Another Horsedreamer's Blues

With the windows down and the music up loud, I drove south out of the N.C. mountains today on Highway 441. On a whim, I brought along Recovering the Satellites, the Counting Crows album that came out my senior year of high school and turned me into a die-hard fan. I can't remember the last time I listened to it in its entirety. But today, I did.

I had forgotten about the song "Another Horsedreamer's Blues" even though it was one of my favorites on the album. I was reminded of the passage I used to listen to, rewind and listen to again and again...

"Margery's wingspan's all feathers and Coke cans and TV dinners and letters she won't send. And every race night is shot through with sunlight. Trying to hit the big one one last time tonight for drunken fathers and stupid mothers and boys who can't tell one girl from another. So she takes her pills - careful and round - one of these days she's gonna throw the whole bottle down but she's trying to be a good girl and give them what they want."

Granted, I didn't have a drunken father or a stupid mother, but I did mostly think the boys in high school couldn't tell one girl from another. It was the part about trying to be a good girl and give them what they want - there was something about the way it was sung, so angry and defiant. Searching for what it was they wanted.

And at times - even at 31 - I still feel like that 17-year-old girl with clipped wings trying so hard to fly right. Trying so hard to live up to expectations. And sometimes, in a moment, rolling down the asphalt at 65 mph with my red hair whipping in the wind, I realize that I'm a stranger to myself in the mold and so familiar to myself instead with the early spring sun turning my hair to fire.

Happiness

The Word's Goodbye, But I Can't Say It

I've been a (raving) David Gray fan for over 10 years now. It all started for me like it did for most of us on this side of the pond when White Ladder exploded on the American scene with "Babylon." But over the years, I discovered the treasure-trove of pre-Ladder work, from Flesh and A Century Ends to Sell, Sell, Sell and my beloved Lost Songs. Plus, Gray put out three studio albums after Ladder.

Even more than Coldplay, David Gray has been the soundtrack of my life over the last decade. Albums and songs surged to the forefront at varying times with the words and music crafted for highs and lows. For love and lack thereof. For times when in the place "where we can shine" to the place "where the eye don't see no color." Like a cheap therapist, David Gray has soothed my soul on many occasions - long, desolate, never-ending car rides, stricken with grief, heartbroken.

And just like at the Coldplay concert, I heard one of his songs for the first time - from just four rows away from the one and only David Gray. I had thought it would be "This Year's Love" that would bring tears to my eyes or when he sang "As I'm Leaving." But instead, I was surprised when the song "Freedom" went right through my soul. And as I listened to it over and over (and over) again since then, what wasn't surprising was that it was a song for right now. For this state I'm in. For this place I live.

Take your eyes off me
There's nothing here to see
Just trying to keep my head together
And as we make our vow
Let us remember how
There's nothing good that lasts forever

Time out on the running boards
We're running
Through a world that lost its meaning
Trying to find a way to love
This running
Ain't no kind of freedom

Feel the touch of grief
You stand in disbelief
Can steal the earth from right beneath you
And falling in so far
They know just where you are
Yeah, but there ain't no way to reach you

***
It's time to clean these boots
Fold up these parachutes
The word's goodbye, but I can't say it
The end is close at hand
I think we understand
There ain't no use trying to delay it

***
Fasten on my mask
I'm bending to the task
I know this work is never finished
But if I close my eyes
I can still see you dancing
Laughing loud and undiminished

I love the last line of the song, the bittersweet hope of knowing that I will be able to close my eyes and see Kudzu undiminished - dancing across the floor on small, sure feet, eyes alight with love and mischief.

Thank you, David Gray, for the 497th reason that a world without your music would be less bearable.

David Gray, On Pretention

"I think people are often surprised I don't take myself incredibly seriously. I hate people that are too precious. It's the thing I like least about an artist. I'd rather they be cheap than precious. Art has to exist but I don't think we should bow down and tip toe around it. The splendor of music... f*ck, any fool can do it, for God's sake." ~ David Gray

Are You There, Blog? It's Me, Ashley.

Six months ago, the words stopped.

I couldn't say precisely why. Perhaps it was my unwillingness to let the laptop go and embrace a new computer. Perhaps it was the myriad of out-of-town trips that kept me busy through October. Perhaps it was the onset of the second holiday season without Ronnie. Perhaps it was the relentless pursuit of the perfect house. And perhaps it was a combination of those things or none of those things. But whatever the reason, the inner-narrative that became the outer-blog was suddenly silenced.

I feel like I ought to be able to find the words now to describe those months, to fill in the great void I've left here. When I try to pin them down and sort them out into some chronological experience, it all falls apart. Instead it's a rush and blur of images and scenes. Mountains in October in North Georgia and Boone, NC. Dahlonega in November. Pictures of leaves. A second Thanksgiving without Ronnie. And Christmas without him, too. Cold, gray days, long and dark.

There were sounds: A Death Cab for Cutie concert at the Fox. And Ray LaMontagne's voice crying out "Jolene" against those beautiful theater walls. A new David Gray album - fourth row tickets purchased for his upcoming concert in Atlanta. John Mayer at Phillips Arena again, covering "Ain't No Sunshine."

The milestones: Dillon is three now. And Reese is one. And I bought a house. The Barrister, for whatever reason, still sees fit to hang around me.

I still work in the office between The Goofball and The Linguista.

Nothingandsomuch has changed. And nothingandsomuch has stayed the same.

And even though I want to say everything, I settled for saying something. Something like...hello.

Sorta Memory

Just listening to the Sarah McLachlan station on Pandora, and it's playing Tori Amos's "Sorta Fairytale." And for a flash, I'm standing in the kitchen of the Grace Street apartment in the middle of fall. The windows are open, twilight is settling, and the air begins to bite. Debating a glass of wine and smelling the cold. Filled with melancholy, but I don't remember why...and then, like a fairytale would, it dissolves into nothing more than an ephemeral shiver.

Ashley the Grouch

* Since I spent most of the weekend actively puking my guts up or feeling like doing so, I'm tentative about eating. Which means I'm hungry. A lot.

* I really hate Taylor Swift. I hate her weird squinty eyes and stupid "Love Story" song, which invokes Romeo & Juliet in the world's most insipid way.

* I hate that Taylor Swift probably thinks Romeo & Juliet are from that movie with Leonardo DiCaprio.

* I have to drive to the outskirts of Atlanta today - for a 4 p.m. meeting. Hello, traffic.

* One of my clients is being unsatisfiable. And I have had it.

* I'm really annoyed when I can't tell whether I'm friends with someone anymore.

* I'm pretty sure that I look fugly today.

* If you have a question that starts with, "Can you...?" the answer is "no." And if you press me, it's gonna be "hell no."

Cashthrax: A Metalgrass Band

I don't confess to be musical in any sort of way other than liking to listen to it. But I do know a little bit about bluegrass - how it generally sounds, the kind of instruments that are involved, the harmonies. Enough to know that the show I went to Friday night featured a band that was decidedly not bluegrass.

While we were subjected to the sounds of The Unknown Band, I made a few observations, puzzled together this mysterious musical performance and came up with this: the band came together with two sets of brothers - one in each pair devoted to classic bluegrass and their counterparts equally passionate about heavy metal. But rather than be brothers divided, they decided to meld their incongruous loves into a band of heretofore unknown composition: the metalgrass band.

The metalheads brought their pounding drums and their electric guitar riffs and the grassroots brought their upright bass and their banjo and then they found the missing ingredient: the pretty-boy frontman who could hunch over a mandolin but never quite make noise with it. And this motley crew became Cashthrax, an absolute abomination to both ends of the spectrum.

And poor Jason and me were stuck...for thirty minutes, listening to them bang and wail in a fashion that was a glaring insult to all things bluegrass and a wad of spit in the eye to all things metal. But they labored on, picking and plucking in their cowboy boots and their Converse and their long Amish beards and sang something that was neither identifiable nor enjoyable.

And then the headliner appeared with the proper instruments and harmonies and vocals and sounds and words. The world improved greatly for a brief moment...and then tilted on its axis in a haze of white-boy pain and mid-life clogging. A cluster of frat-boy redneck types moved into the middle of the open floor - one wearing a camoflauge cap, another a Member's Only jacket - and began what can only be characterized as a rhythmless white-boy shuffle. They were soon joined by a 40ish or so woman in a dress so ugly, it pained me. No. Seriously. This dress - this boxy black and camel dress - hurt me. And it hurt me even more when I noticed her hair was held in place by a small pink terrycloth scrunchie. She took to the floor in her thick suntan-colored pantyhose (shoes kicked to the side) and clogged the dickens out of that concrete floor. And when she wasn't clogging, she was to the side with her decidedly more stylish friend (although Jason insisted she didn't score that many extra points) who seemed to be the girlfriend of a hip Atown townie who was so stoic and immobile, I would've thought him dead. But it was his friend - the sometimes sax player (?) - who was the attraction for the clogger. And while stylish friend (whose name I decided was Willow) tried to motivate her catatonic beau to move things along, the sax player and the clogger had intermittent awkward conversations leaned across the impassive zombie while Willow stroked his neck. And on top of that, we were fascinated by the incredibly bad date that was happening stage left, cringing at the body language and counting the guy's trips to the bar for another beer. Drink til she's cute!

All that said, the band was rather enjoyable. That is until they descended from the stage into the mob of mutants and continued playing and the mutants started shouting incomprehensibly. That's I turned to Jason and said, "Let's go now." And we walked out into the cold and hoped that whatever fissure had opened up in the universe behind us had closed - and hopefully taken that hideous dress with it.

Simply Irresistible

In case you missed it on Facebook, here's the first meme I've seen in a long time that was worth doing. Check out Kim Shable's blog to see from whence I ripped the original.

RULES:
A. Put your music player on shuffle.
B. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
C. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!
D. Tag 10 friends who might enjoy doing the game as well as the person you got the game from.

1. IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
"Jenny was a Friend of Mine" by The Killers

2. WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
"Full of Grace" by Sarah McLachlan (oh, that seems a little lofty)

3. WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
"White Flag" by Dido

4. HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
"Sundays" by Counting Crows

5. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
"Belief" by Gavin DeGraw

6. WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
"Lovestoned" by Justin Timberlake

7. WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
"Joking" by Indigo Girls (that's probably pretty true!)

8.WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
"Moondance" by Van Morrison

9. WHAT IS 2 + 2?
"Grace is Gone" by Dave Matthews Band

10 WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
"Wheel" by John Mayer (???)

11.WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
"The Light" by David Gray

12. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
"Going Back to Georgia" by Nanci Griffith (I swear! That's what came up!)

13. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
"Fantine's Arrest" from Les Miserables (perhaps not!)

14. WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
"Push" by Sarah McLachlan

15. WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
"Thank You" by Dido

16. WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
"Cheers Darlin'" by Damien Rice

17 What will they play at your funeral?
"The Scientist" by Coldplay (I might cry now...)

18. WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
"Lullaby" by Dixie Chics

19. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
"Delicate" by Damien Rice

20. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
"Hospital Food" by David Gray (Sorry, y'all)

21. WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
"Beautiful Day" by U2

22. HOW WILL YOU DIE?
"Songbird" by Eva Cassidy (Note to self: do not watch The Birds)

23. WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
"It's All Over" by David Gray

24. WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
"Green" by Brendan James

25. WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
"Raspberry Swirl" by Tori Amos

26. WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
"Vultures" by John Mayer (YIPE!)

27. DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?
"Hanging on Too Long" by Duffy (Is that a no?)

28. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
"Dramamine" by Sun Kil Moon

29. WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
" ou Can Bring Me Flowers" by Ray LaMontagne

30. WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
"Simply Irresistible" by Robert Palmer

A Gem of a Break-Up Song

Whether or not you like the All-American Rejects, you have to give them credit for their new single "Gives You Hell." It's a really fabulous break-up anthem. The kind you should listen to with the windows down, possibly driving a little too fast and screaming the words at the top of your lungs. Please enjoy.

Coldplay: A Personal History

"Spies" - First year of grad school. The tiny bedroom in the Abbott's Run apartments. Listening to Parachutes while getting ready for Clyde's class. Dragging out of bed to head downtown to the little brick office on Princess. "Spies come out of the water..." always makes me think of the light through that second floor window, the view of the dumpster, Kim Shable's patio, and the first slight easing of that summer's torrid heat when October arrived.

"Clocks" - I used to travel between Wilmywood and Charlottesville, VA to see Mike when he was in grad school at UVA. The five-hour drive was pretty brutal - an endless stretch of asphalt with very little to look at until you got on I-64 in Richmond and headed into the foothill country toward the college town. I can remember Sunday afternoons, getting on the I-64/I-95 interchange with the windows down and the piano unfolding into the sinking sun, the wind whipping my hair. "Home, home, where I wanted to go..." and wondering exactly where "home" was anymore.

"Fix You" - "And the tears come streaming down your face when you lose something you cannot replace." I sobbed relentlessly over these words as I turned out of the drive at Grace Street for the last time. I was losing something - Wilmywood, my first (real) apartment, my hard-won independence. I let go and jumped into the unknown, letting the tears come, letting "the lights guide [me] home."

"42" - The first time I heard this song, it gave me chills. "Those who are dead are not dead, they're just living in my head. And since I fell for that spell, I am living there as well." What an apt description of the last eight months in the aftermath of Ronnie's death...the retreat into my head where the dead live, where it's the safest and most excruciating place to me. Inside my head, I'm insulated and tortured by all that's there.

And tomorrow, I'll add another memory to my list...

A Myriad of Miscellany

* Completely annoyed by Kid Rock's new song that samples liberally from Warren Zevon's "Werewolves of London" and Lynard Skynard's "Sweet Home Alabama." You can't make it better, Kid.

* Christian Bale was on VH1 this morning talking about The Dark Knight in his native Welsh accent. Dreamy.

* Les Mis is coming to the Fox Theatre in September. I am pee-in-my-pants excited!!!

* At a chamber function last night, was invited by two almost-40 married men to have a drink at a bar along with my intern who is 21. Wrongness.

* This morning, I tried on no less than six outfits with four different pair of shoes before I left the house.

* I'm considering possibly maybe starting my own charitable organization. More later as my plans take shape...

* Headed northwest for the weekend and considering a trip up to old B.C. for taking photos. A new round of 26 things started last week, and I've got to get crackin'.

* Me, at work today? Totally useless. But that's okay...I've already put in about 50+ hours this week.

"Green"

Please enjoy this beautiful song I can't stop listening to...

In Honor of Tomorrow's Wake Up Call

This Atlanta commute is killing me.

Threesdays: I'm Just Not That Into You

* Amy Winehouse: her whereabouts, her in-and-out relationship with rehab, her crazy husband who is currently incarcerated, her signature beehive, her insistence on wearing ballet slippers everywhere...and her music. Yeah, I don't get it. I didn't drink the Kool-Aid. It's just not that great to me.

* The Hills: Lauren and Heidi and Audrina and...I don't even know anymore. Everyone's all aflutter over whether or it's real or fake, and I just can't watch a show featuring a guy who's last name is "Pratt." I mean, I get that it's entertainment, and if you dig it, so be it. But me? So disinterested.

* Ashley Dupre: I really don't care about the high-class hooker that got Elliot Spitzer booted from the NY Gov's office. I don't care how much Larry Flynt offered her to pose for Penthouse. Or that she was spotted on Girls Gone Wild as an 18-year-old. I don't care where she lives or what her sad, sad story is. I don't want to be her friend on MySpace. And I'm not sorry.

Dear VH1,

Sometimes in the morning, I turn on your channel to enjoy a little music while getting ready for the day. I'm a pretty regular viewer - five days a week on average. So please consider my request to stop playing the Alicia Keys video for "Like I'll Never See You Again" between 7:30 and 8. It's not anything against Alicia Keys - I think she's lovely. And I'm sure it's a very popular video that a lot of people enjoy, but the whole hospital scene in the beginning with the panicked voices and the heart monitor? I cannot handle that right now. And unfortunately, that's the very beginning of the video and I'm always in the other room so it's only when I hear that flat-lining noise that I know to change the channel and after that, it's a moot point. I've been through a lot the past few weeks, so I really feel like I'm entitled to this one small request.

Thanks so much,
Ash

99aXed

It's the end of an era. As of January 25, 99x will no longer be on air. The 99.7 FM frequency is being given to what is now Q100, a top-40 rock format. The X will transition to 100.5, sans its morning show, marking the end of Leslie Fram's 15-plus-year run on the station's Morning X show.

For those of you who grew up in Georgia, listening to the Morning X was akin to watch SNL on Saturday night. It's just what you did. You tuned in to the legendary Barnes, Leslie and Jimmy morning show so that you could catch a few stellar lines and maybe hear the first spin of "Jeremy."

And then there was 99x Resurrection Sunday, which played chic rock and folk rock and folk infusion and was the first place I heard "Silent All These Years" by Tori Amos. I remember leaving Jenn's house and driving down a lonely stretch of road with Tori's voice reverberating through the old '92 Taurus and thinking, "Yeah."

99x sponsored the Counting Crows concert at Chastain Park Amphitheatre where I met Adam Duritz - who gave me his autograph while denying me me a hug. Somewhere, I still have photo of Niki, Tempe, Heather and me with the 99x poster we absconded with.

The X hosted the Jingle Jam that Sarah McLachlan headlined at the Gwinnett Civic Center where we had fifth-row seats.

And there was also Live X, which produced some amazing acoustic sets over the years.

99x has apparently fallen on hard times while I've been away. With the rise of satellite radio and the faltering popularity of alt rock against top-40 pop coupled with the departure of Barnes and Jimmy from the Morning X and difficulty finding a successful replacement combo, it looks like it's finally jumped the shark. Goodbye, 99x. Thanks for the memories.

* For you OC kids, I couldn't find the old logo - the bright yellow 99x on the black background. You know what I'm talkin' about!

Say What You Need to Say

That's right, kids. It's time for the first John Mayer post of 2008. Okay...I'm sure there are many among you who think John Mayer is lame and that I'm lame for my insanely freakish fandom. But I highly encourage you to take a listen to "Say", written for the new movie The Bucket List, with Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson. I found it to be a great sort of anthem for starting off the new year. Listen. And then say what you need to say.

Note to Self

Throughout the day, I tend to write down an ongoing list of things to remember on a post-it note stuck to my desk - some are things to do, some the beginnings of blog posts and others are mysteriously vague. Inevitably, these notes end up stuck in the bottom of my purse or in pockets. Here's a sampling of those sorted through this evening:

* Jeans
* Prom jewelry
* War with the rock star
* Olives
* Knitters
* Shred credit card bills
* Check out Heatmiser
* The Gates of Hell
* Jenny Ray's birthday (see? I didn't forget altogether...)
* Bathroom stall
* Call STGD
* International Delights
* "Wide Unbroken Skies"
* Don't forget Mel
* 8:30 sharp, out by 9:30
* House is on tonight
* Mom - side dish, insurance
* B Spears new album?

Father Spice

Dad: "Ashley, are the Spice Girls still together?"

Me: "Well...actually, yes. They just reunited...why?"

Dad: "I just wondered."

Me: "Wow...questions I never thought my dad would ask me."

Dad: "Why not? That's who we're listening to."

Me: "No, Dad. This is the Dixie Chicks."