Author: dianneP

There’s something about this flower.

You can see it growing in a ditch on the side of a nowhere rural road.

You can whiz by it on a highway, the petals bobbing in the drag from the cars and shaking off the exhaust as they soak up the sun and reflect the light out and about, bouncing it off the car windows.

But, try and grow it at home, and you may find it near impossible to locate. If you do find some to plant, it starts off shy, and skinny, and then, when you give it some love, it takes over, pushing to the front, looking for the love, the applause from the crowd.

It’s probably my favorite flower as it has my two favorite colors (orange and green) and polka dots, and those dots, in my opinion, are purple, which would be my third color choice. This flower knows me. And this flower is definitely on its way to a party. Not a bar, not a dance, a party, one of those parties in a crappy apartment that rattles to its bones every twenty minutes when the EL goes by; one of those parties that you walk to in shoes not suited to the cobblestones and ruts; one of those parties where the world outside smells like trash and cold wet cardboard, and the world inside that very important party smells like garlic and hot rice and too much cologne. The party is dark, not because of atmosphere, but because the tenant only owns two lamps, and people smoke unreservedly, and someone smokes cloves, and one intensely serious boy is in charge of the music, and all night long it’s slow, and moody, and alternative, and you’ve never heard any of it before, which makes him seem dark and mysterious and unknowable, and, then, he plays your favorite song.

Tiger Lily Girl  

Sweet obscenity…

 

My brother played the guitar, as long as I can remember him I remember him playing his Gibson guitar. Most of my friends, their musical tastes go back to 1976 or so, but I go back to the late 50s, because my big brother made sure I got to hear all the music, rock music, that he grew up loving and learning to play.

My brother’s most favorite music was, I’m bold enough to guess, Frank Zappa, Santana, The Beatles, The Stones. Like him I never quite embraced The Who, but I think we both liked The Kinks. I don’t think he ever took to disco, but I think he forgave me for it.

My brother collected Presidents from the A&P when I was a kid. I used to play with them, use them as bowling pins with marbles, and mess up their order on the styrofoam shelf. He was (mostly) nice about it.

My brother liked to play wiffle ball, and stick ball, and ice hockey.

My brother liked to tinker with things, repair things. I think it began with old cars, but it didn’t stop there. He liked retro, vintage, black and white. It didn’t matter to him if it was old and beat-up. He found it valuable and usually could shine it up again.

My brother especially loved old radios. He liked the huge cabinet models and the smaller models, and he could get them going again. I have one in my kitchen he gave me at Christmas along with figurines of Pixie and Dixie and Mr. Jinx.

I remember my brother as handsome, and sweet, and helpful. He could eat two Thanksgiving dinners in a row and still wear his high school jeans. Levis.

I can still hear his voice. I can still see the funny little way he walked, feet turned out like my mom but wearing Chuck Taylors, always Chuck Taylors. I can still remember all the jokes he made, and how he laughed at his own jokes.

My brother left us suddenly yesterday.

All the old people in the family loved my brother, the first child of any of their children, as if he was an extra son for them all. And while I cry today, I know, somewhere, all those grandparents, and the great aunts and uncles, are all today a good deal happier to be in his company once again.

Dave, Sophie, and I are happy to be PFLAG.

Happy pride month!

One of my favorite things is “amateur” art. This is one of my favorite things I own. And I briefly knew the artist when I lived in Los Angeles.

I call this Bunny Lady, and I look at her every day.

Isn’t she great?

I have, by choice, a lot of mis-matched dishes. I found recently that I kept picking up pottery by Stangl, the maker of the two bowls pictured here.

I adore dishes, and I wish I was a potter (high on the list of dream jobs).

One of my favorite pieces is this slightly cracked bowl.

Does anyone know who made this?

There is no maker’s mark on the bottom:

But I love the color and the pattern. Anyone know?

When I was in 9th grade I bought my first records (yes, my mother was against records, so I was not allowed to buy any before then) at Sears, lol, and I bought one LP (London Town, by Wings), and the following 45s:
All Alone (Rita Cooledge)
Give a Little Bit (Supertamp)
Tired of Towing the Line (Rocky Burnett)
On and On (Stephen Bishop)
Telephone Line (ELO)
& Lovely Day (Bill Withers)

John Prine has Covid19 and is critical. Sending him love, hope you will join me.

It’s funny, people who only know me now may not know, but in the 70s, I was a Philly WIOQ listener (Adult Rock Era: Under Outlet, WIOQ evolved into an eclectic music format often described as “adult rock“. The station played a blend of softer songs heard on rock music stations, some deeper album cuts, a few top 40 crossover hits, and a bit of uptempo jazz. Leading air personalities on WIOQ in this era included John Harvey (“Harvey in the Morning”), Helen Leicht who hosted a show called “Breakfast With The Beatles” on Sunday mornings, David Dye, Ed Sciaky and Michael Tozzi. (Leicht and Dye are now the midday DJs for the adult alternative public station WXPN. The former continues her “Leight Lunch” program at noon, and Dye is the producer and host of the nationally distributed World Cafe.)Thank you Wikipedia….

I have fairly varied tastes; I love “old school” jazz; I love funk, some rap, some very pop/teeny-bopper stuff, and I might make this list of my current favorite bands (in no particular order):

• Cake
• Fountains of Wayne
• Jack Johnson
• Beatles
• Stones
• Kinks
• Chili Peppers
• Luna
• Sugar Ray…

But I think most folks in my life today wouldn’t associate me with a very folky sort of past. Loved me some deep cut Jackson Browne, Bonnie Rait, Joan Armatrading, CSN, Neil Young. Love them still, just kinda wore them out a little, and life takes you in different ways. If I were still with my first love, I’d still be right in that folky-rocky pocket. But love doesn’t stay; tastes change, and we don’t last forever, or even as long as we should, in some cases.

So sorry that we lost Adam Schlesinger, formerly of Fountains of Wayne (FOW), to Covid19. I adore FOW, and am so very sorry to know there will never be a reunion concert now. He was too young to leave us. I hope that John Prine will not soon join him.

I love your songs, John, and I wish you recovery, music, and love.

PS. Check out my previous John Prine post why don’t you?

Previous JPPost

At their best, it’s hard to believe there is any other kind of music besides this simple, graceful, chiming chug — the Guardian

Dean Wareham has an unlikely quiver of a voice that, for whatever ungodly reason, sounds as if he’s survived something his music alludes to but never gives away — Jerry Stahl

One of indie rocks’ most beloved live acts — Rob Sheffield, Rolling Stone

One of Dianne Pearce’s most beloved acts – Dianne Pearce

I remember, in my late 20s, hearing Tiger Lily Girl played on the radio. From that moment on I have loved Dean and his band.

My favorite song is probably “Dear Diary.”

So try a little Luna, won’t you? And see what makes them just so charming 🙂

 

I’d rather be singing.

How about you?