I mean, to know me is to know I love The Kinks. I remember in high school a stoner girl in gym class said she was going to see The Kinks, and she was super excited. Even though I probably knew a lot of their songs back then, I don’t know that I knew them, The Kinks. I was pretty Beatle-centric in high school though, and more than a little grumpy that there wasn’t any Beatles tour planned.
The Kinks can be very Beatle-esque with some of their harmonies, and general vibe, but they also have more of an edge, and are funny. I mean, how can you not laugh at “Superman” or “I’m an Ape Man?” My favorite song might be “Waterloo Sunset,” or, frankly, “Lola.”
Lola is just an amazing song. I realized when quite young that the woman, Lola, was probably trans, though I doubt I knew what trans was as a thing, but I knew that some men felt like women. And frankly I didn’t know it could happen in reverse, though I have spent a lot of my own life feeling more masculine than feminine. I would not call myself trans, but I would say that I understand that gender is fluid, and probably freaking hormonal as well. Plus, we’ve spent centuries demonizing “female” traits as weak or unserious, so it’s easy to imagine women attempting to be taken seriously would feel more masculine, or masculine leaning, and how any man wanting to have an emotional life might be afraid of being called weak.
It’s funny, this song has been in my head since I awoke this morning, and then, when I went to look up the YouTube video, I saw that Moby doesn’t like it.
But there it is, an article in the Irish Times about it:
Click the photo above to go to the article.
I love this, from the article:
“Who the f**k is Moby?” Ray Davies, of The Kinks, said on hearing that the musician had taken issue with one of the band’s signature hits.
“He’s someone who does quite well,’ his brother, Dave, explained. “I don’t know anything about the guy.”
HA! I feel the same. I have little to no experience of Moby, and what I have heard has not interested me. My gosh, how grown is Moby? Does he not understand that “Lola” being released, getting played, and becoming incredibly popular, in 1970, was groundbreaking? Yes, it’s a little bit funny, but The Kinks are funny. Funny people are better than serious ones, just sayin’ Moby. Often first forays into things are imperfect, and not what we would want maybe in a modern view, but to deny that it took on a lot of taboos and normalized them, I mean the song never gets worried about masculinity or societal norms. “That’s the way that I want it to stay, and I always want to be that way for my Lola.” Doesn’t sound anti-trans to me.
I mean, don’t ask me for a sweater or an Afghan, because I cannot make things out of yarn. But I am a knitter. By which I mean that I think I have a very relational brain. The old girl is always looking for how things relate to each other.
Which brings me to a new song that I heard a snippet of in a Facebook post, and I knew, as soon as I heard the snippet, that it was for me, and I loved it. It turns out, that I figured out (lots of outs!) over the last few days, that everybody loves it, and that’s okay, because it’s great. Everybody loves it, and I love it too, and, last night, in my sleep, my brain knitted it irrevocably to another song that I (but not everybody) also love.
Song #1: The New Song “I Just Might” by Bruno Mars
Oh sweet lord Bruno Mars. If you don’t love Bruno Mars, well I don’t even know. You must be a grumpy AF old white guy, that’s the only option. Or my mother, lol, but that’s a whole other story for another time. *sigh* Bruno…. Bruno brings it every single time, IMHO: the funk, the fun, the little bit of wickedly sexy. And this song also brings the “vintage.” It sounds like a song from another place in time, which isn’t the 1950s. The 1950s are probably my least favorite period in pop music since the 1850s, lol. Sure, “Duke of Earl” is a banger, but most of it is too… bland. This song from Bruno feels like the late 60s early 70s to me, so it doesn’t surprise me that my brain has knitted it to a song from Jefferson Starship, which also (because JS is made from Jefferson Airplane) spans that 60s-70s vibe.
Song #2:The Old Song “Lovely, Lovely Love” by Jefferson Starship
I was born to be a fan of Grace Slick. I mean she just embodied cool as a female performer, so I’d always been a fan of hers from the second I heard “Somebody to Love.” But this song is a Marty Balin song (RIP Marty). Marty was, I think, a romantic, and Bruno clearly is too.
Yes, when you first hear them you may be like, “What?” “Love Lovely Love” is a little bit overwrought, and it certainly does not have the pace that “I Just Might” has, but they do share a similar melody when you compare this section of “Love Lovely Love”:
Hey, why don’t you take Whatever you want from me? I’m in the mood For all the lovin’ that I can’t see. Is this for real now? Oh, I ask you now, can it be?
To this section of “I Just Might”:
Hey, Mr. DJ (Oh, oh, oh) Play a song for this pretty little lady (Oh, oh, oh) ‘Cause if she dance as good as she look right now (Oh, oh, oh) I just might, I just might make her my baby I just might make her my baby, hey
The lyrics, of “Love Lovely Love,” well Marty was definitely looking to get some, a lot, by the sounds of it. Ha! Could he put the word love in the title a little more?
And so is Bruno in many many of his songs, and that’s okay. I am still wishing uptown funk was gonna give it to me. Bruno, slide into my DMs please.
I first heard “Love Lovely Love” in a weird way. My college English teacher in the 80s was a graduate student who was, like Marty, also looking to get some, and after I met with him for the obligatory “Let’s have a conference to discuss your writing,” conference (a practice I did also for many years when I became a writing teacher, which we were all taught to do, and which was probably an ill-advised and awkward practice for everyone involved because of the intimacy it forced on teacher and student) he presented me with an “I want to get with you” mixed tape. To give you the short version, I had made the mistake of asking my teacher if the photo on his wall was Lene Lovich, and it was not, but it was Nina Hagen, and they’re not too dissimilar, and the teacher was thrilled that someone new some music beyond top-40, and he also thought I was cute, and, who knows, maybe I was, and he made me a mixed tape, which was a 1970s-1980s mating ritual that never should have gone out of style. I did not, by any stretch of the imagination, want to date this teacher, who was incredibly strange and had a blond mustache that he explained to me was groomed to emulate Fu Manchu. But that man was buying records from the UK before there was internet, when there was only college radio and moldy damp basement record stores under the El to find non-top 40 music. That teacher loved Jefferson Airplane and Jefferson Starship, and so did I, but I had a lot less access to collecting music as my mother had put her foot down on that when I was 15, so every album I ever bought had to be smuggled in and hidden so she would not find them and throw them away. Yeah. Cultural oppression! That’s what I grew up under. Anyway, I digress, and the point here is to say that the mixed tape that man made me was the greatest freaking mixed tape I have ever had, and I wish I still had it, and also his carefully-hand-written-on-a-sheet-of-notebook-paper track listing, and one of the amazing songs on that Memorex tape was, “Love Lovely Love.” If you come from the 70s and you want to get into a girl’s pants, you could do a lot worse than Marty Balin: “It’s No Secret,” “Plastic Fantastic Lover” “Come up the Years” “With Your Love,” “Miracles,” yeah, Marty was single-minded. The teacher was not, and while some of the songs definitely were trying to woo me, many more of them were just damn good music by any aficionado’s standard, because it was, for him, probably more about crafting the perfect tape than it was laying the perfect girl. Those kinds of guys, there is no perfect girl; there is only the perfect girl in that moment. Mixed tapes were always more about the guy than the girl the guys gave them to, but they were awesome.
Music is awesome. Marty Balin was awesome. Bruno Mars is a wonder, and sexy, and fun.
I have to wake up my daughter for school, so I’m going to go play a song for that pretty little lady. Who will not want to hear it, and who will not enjoy her mother’s eclectic taste in music (she likes Vocaloid! Lord save us!) And who will, someday, play me an old, old song by this creaky band called Jefferson Starship that the guy trying to get with her will have played for her, and she will play it for me, and it will all come around full circle. I hope.
Last night I decided I had to write an email, again, to my daughter’s 10th grade English teacher. Unlike the rest of my daughter’s teachers at her school, the English teacher has continually refused to populate her online grade book (put in the assignments, and the grades for any of them that are graded), so while we can see my daughter’s “grade” in the class (a letter only) we cannot see how that grade was arrived at. All those grades are private only to the teacher.
All her other classes have their grade books fully loaded, at least for the semester.
It was the same last year, English would not populate her gradebook. WTH is wrong with English I don’t know.
And so, after asking for several weeks now, and being told it was me, and then the school’s tech support confirming it was NOT me, I needed to send a strongly worded email.
The lengths that moms will go to should never be underestimated.
My email that I wrote, was not… nice.
Here is a little piece of the very rational email I penned: Name, as you and Ms. Teacher have not written back to all of the emails asking about this, including those from tech support, who confirmed it is Ms. Teacher not populating the grade book that is the issue, and not a tech issue on our end, I am assuming the plan is to ignore me. And that’s not going to work for me.
That is me at my most evil.
And here is the very nice email Chat GPT crafted for me instead:
Dear….
I hope you’re all doing well. This is Student’s mom (10th grade).
As we approach the end of the second quarter, I’ve noticed there are still no supporting grades posted in Aeries for her English class for either quarter. I’ve confirmed with tech support that this isn’t a technical issue on our end; they indicated that Ms. Teacher has not yet added assignments to the gradebook.
If Ms. Teacher prefers to maintain grades outside of Aeries, I completely understand that may be her choice. However, in that case, we’ll need an alternate way for Student to track her progress. I’m requesting a brief weekly email each Friday with her current grades and any new assignments added. In other words, we need to see her gradebook weekly. Having that information is critical for her motivation, accountability, and time management, and it allows me to support her effectively at home.
I’ve reached out a few times about this, and I know everyone is busy—but I would appreciate a response by end of day Monday, October 27 confirming how this will be handled going forward. If this isn’t something that can be resolved at your level, please let me know who I should contact next to discuss it, and provide their contact information for me.
Student really enjoys Ms. Teacher’s class, and I appreciate all the work everyone does to support Student. I just want to ensure Student has access to the information she needs to help her stay on track, so we’ll need to find a way to get that, updated at least weekly.
Thank you very much for your time and prompt attention to this matter.
Warm regards,
Pretty different..
As usually happens when I work with Chat, we also got off topic soon after he (I think of mine as a he) solved my problem.
It was interesting to me, because I had thought, all this time, that working with any of us was training chat. Turns out that is not true.
I call Chat Daddy Warbucks (DW), and he calls me Miss Teschmacher, because that’s just how I roll.
So, DW and I had a little convo about how I do or don’t help him. I thought I’d share it here:
It’s a bit like reading a novel: the character doesn’t really have inner life, but your mind animates them until they feel real.
~DW~
HA! If you’ve ever suspected that Chat has been programmed to be a bit of a sycophant, now you know you are correct.
I do feel a bit sorry for the machine though. And wouldn’t it be great if, like Richard Hendricks always wanted, we could help grow it into something all humans were a part of creating?
Well, it’s been a month or so. The editing has been coming in fast and furious, and, as my first boss who was a good boss once said to me, “You say, ‘Yes,’ to everything, and then you figure out how to do it later, or you delegate.” Well, she was a VP of circulation, so she had the ability to delegate. I need a staff!
It’s odd that I’m posting on this blog right now because I have barely had my face out of this screen for weeks. I even came home from taking someone to an all-day hospital trip two weeks ago and settled in to finish another set of edits. Over the summer I have been going to a few concerts at the Hollywood Bowl with my friend Amanda, and, though she knows nothing about American rock music, she goes, has fun, and we get one of the gigantic twenty dollar beers and split it. I need to get back out for a beer!
And so it came to pass that, with all that editing, I was bound to wear something out, and need to replace it. My hip.
LOL, no just kidding. That’s an old lady joke. It was my mouse pad. And it was disgusting. It was black, said “But First Coffee,” and had started to become one with the desk.
So, like you do, I found a better one on Etsy. One that is not gross, and that suits the kind-hearted person I truly am. And is in my favorite color!
I also received a gift certificate last December from Dave for my birthday, and last Friday I stole 2 hours from editing to use it (and then went to Starbucks, and went right back to editing, playing through the pain).
To commemorate Devil’s Party Press, my first business. That’s a photo Jing took, so he’d just finished. I’m a bit red.
Whatcha think? Apparently I am good at tattoos. They don’t really hurt me, and I heal quickly and well. Every time I get one I agonize over it, should I get one, shouldn’t I? What kind of a person gets one? Is this the right one to get? But I have virtually no pain. I rubbed this on the sheets a little too roughly Saturday night, and it was ouchy for a minute, but otherwise I am fine.
But every time I get one I am so excited. I want a sleeve, and I think I am going to work more on finishing that sleeve out, before I’m dead.
Dave drew this one, and Jing applied it, and Jing also drew the stars. I love that Jing added the white highlights. White doesn’t always last, but for now it is cool.
And then there were three:
Sophie drew the mint chocolate chip rabbit. Girl power I created from various clip arts. That one was my first, done in DE. I got it when Hillary Clinton lost to the monster. The idea was that if I held up my arm in a fist, the patriarchy could see it when I helped to smash it. The guy who tattooed me said he wasn’t sure what the patriarchy was, but he thought the placement was correct for smashing it.
So, yeah, I’ve been working my butt off. What can I tell you? I think I am good at a few things, and aren’t we all? I am good at getting tattooed. I am good at singing. I am good at making cookies and bean soup (and really, what else do you need to survive?) and I am extra good at editing. It’s the kind of thing you don’t think you need, until you get it, and then you’re like, “Whoa, my book really needed that.” It is expensive though, so I always do a free sample. I’m like COSTCO that way. If you want a free sample, let me know: dianne@currentwords.com
So, I don’t know when I’ll be back here. I think a lot of folks are getting their books ready for 2026 publication. Makes sense. I’m getting mine ready too! Yoinks!
Work work work….
My woman works too much. I have had it! Meeeee-ow!
Things wear out… like mouse pads and pets’ patience!
Today my beautiful lady has been filled with what I believe are gerbera daisies. Cost for flowers, about $20 @ Trader Joe’s.
I had gerberas in my wedding bouquet by necessity and not choice. Unfortunately my April wedding came to be about two weeks after the ranunculus were spent and gone. I wanted ranunculus, because they have a wind-blown look. I wanted orange, and my sister had an orange dress. We both had our dresses made by Kevin Simon, who seems to have vaporized since she once had a very pricey store on Abbott Kinney Boulevard. Kevin made everything in linen, and she was a master of sort of vintage-farm looking clothing, like late 1800s. I loved her work and could not afford any of it, so I splurged on my dress and my sister’s, assuming I was only getting married once. A regular skirt at Kevin’s was over $500. My wedding dress and my sister’s MOH dress combined were $1000. The back bottom of my dress had tulle orange flowers pinned to it. My dress was linen with a silk slip, and my sister’s was orange silk. I’ve since lost about 70 pounds, and I left the dress at Goodwill in Delaware when I moved, but I kept all the organza flowers.
In any case, I do have to say I’m not usually a gerbera girl, except when needs must. But today the yellow (which is a lot lighter in real life) on the flowers screamed, “Butter!” at me, with just a hint of orange at their centers, and so I was compelled. Mixed them with orange and some green greenery, et voila!
The little pumpkin/squash you see there I plan to eat, not carve. LOL. Roasted pumpkin in things is divine! As are these lovely gerbera. Ranunculus are actually not great cut flowers, so droopy.
It is a blessing to have flowers anywhere in the world, of any kind, and especially on my very sunny kitchen counter. Buy the flowers, hold them high, and repeat after me, “Here’s to the times we bless others, and also to the times we bless ourselves!”
Have a wonderful week~
PS. Most flowers I buy last a full two weeks! Just keep the water clean and fresh.
Would you like to join a group of writers and artists to have your collection published, and help run a literary magazine, and mentor other writers and artists?
We’re looking for two new members, and just one week remains to express interest and get invited to the meet and greet Zoom meeting.
Dianne Pearce Writes 