My Life as a Movie Sound Track

I'm stealing this from my great friend, The Queen-a Athena, because it was such a hoot to read her version on her blog.

Here's what you do:

1. Open your music library
(iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool...

Now, a confession.
The first time I tried this, my Creative Zen mp3 player shuffled only the songs from the sound track of my current WIP, which I'd listened to last night. So I had to figure out how to access all the tracks. It turns out that my mp3 player SHUFFLES in playlists; if I want it to access everything, RANDOM is the way to go.

OPENING CREDITS
I’M NOT SUPPOSED TO CARE
(Gordon Lightfoot)
"I wish you good spaces
In the far away places you go.
If you need somebody sometime,
You know I will always be there.
I’ll do it altho’
I’m not supposed to care"
Okay. This makes me sound like a decent human being.

WAKING UP
WHISKEY GIRL
(Toby Keith)
This was tough trying to figure out. I love wine, champagne and loathe whiskey, so I didn't get it. And I had a 67 Firebird, not a 69 Mustang . I still dream about that car. "Sitting there singing every song on the radio." Yup. That's exactly what I did in that car.

FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL
I’LL NEVER FIND ANOTHER YOU
(The Seekers)
Not quite sure how this relates to school. Maybe the opening line: "There's a new world somewhere, they call the Promised Land." Except I hated school. Maybe it's the school of life? "If they gave me a fortune, my pleasure would be small, I could lose it all tomorrow, and never mind at all." Tough lesson that some folks never get. I'd rather be happy than anything else in the world.

FALLING IN LOVE
COMMON BOND
(The Kennedys)
"Something good’s gonna happen,
there's something transcendent in me.
Maybe a kind of beginning,
at the end of a long ordeal
We believe in a higher intention,
Somewhere in the darkness beyond
There’s sign of affirmation that
We all share a common bond"
Oh, yes. This fits. (And I need to add this song to the WEREWOLF CHRONICLES playlist.) Isn't love about transcending the petty? I always thought so. I remember explaining to my mom what TV Stevie and I had in common (Bob Dylan) when I told her we were getting married.

FIGHT SONG
SHOCK AND AWE
(Neil Young)
I swear, this was random. I did not chose this. I was thrilled the first time I heard Neil's LIVING WITH WAR album. My reaction was, "he's back!" The Neil I loved when I was teenager. Pure poetry. Anger at what's happening in the world. All I need to do is sing along to express myself.
"History was a cruel judge of overconfidence."
"The sun was setting on a golden photo op."
"1000s of bodies in the ground,
Brought home in boxes to a trumpet sound.
No one sees them, Coming home that way."
"1000s of children scarred for life,
Millions of tears for a soldier’s life."

BREAKING UP
SHENANDOAH
(Bruce Springsteen)
A melancholy love song, quite appropriate for breaking up. I prefer the Connie Dover version--it's more about lost love--but this one will do.
"Oh Shenandoah, I love your daughter, Away, you rolling river. Away, I’m bound away, 'cross the wide Missouri." If he loved her, he wouldn't have left her. Don't know how it applies to me, though. Except maybe TV Stevie shouldn't work so late at night. Or maybe it's about how even though we love each other, we should be free to do our own things. Like go to RWA conferences.

PROM
FANFARE FOR THE COMMON MAN
(Leonard Bernstein)
I didn’t go to my prom. I was too busy protesting/writing really, really bad poetry to dance. I was not the All-American Girl.

LIFE IS GOOD
SIGN OF THE TIMES
(Menopause the Musical sound track)
"When your roots are gray and your memory shorter,
Hourglass shape becomes a glass of water.
The wisdom passed from women from so long ago.
Strength of conviction and feeling free.
With luck find a reason to smile.
Ignore what’s in style
It’s time I changed my mind
and love the woman I see—
Celebrate the woman who is me."
Self-explanatory.

MENTAL BREAKDOWN
HEALING ENERGY FOR WRITERS
(Jade Lee)
ROTFLOL! This is an RWA workshop from the 2006 conference in Atlanta. It's a great workshop. Again, completely self-explanatory.

DRIVING
MACK THE KNIFE
(Louis Armstrong)
I so totally don't get this, unless it's about my refusal to let Y-Chromo get his learner's permit. Or get into a car driven by a teenager. My cousin's youngest daughter was killed in a high-profile accident several years ago. I will never, ever forget his family's agony. Ever. Sometimes, I still cry about it.

FLASHBACK
GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN
(Cyndi Lauper)
Yup. My mother asking,
"When you gonna live your life right?"
Always knowing that,
"I wanna be the one to walk in the sun."
And I still just wanna have fun.
Life's too short.

GETTING BACK TOGETHER
YOU CAN’T LOSE A BROKEN HEART
(Billie Holiday & Louis Armstrong)
"If you ever break up then try to make up
It’s tough to make a brand new start
Weigh your remarks before you speak.
Or you may be sorry soon
Don’t be erratic, be diplomatic
To keep your hearts in tune."
Well, the lyrics fit the topic, but I never broke up and got back together... well maybe once or twice in high school, but it was HIGH school, for crying out loud.

WEDDING
ORINOCO FLOW
(Enya)
"Sail away, sail away, sail away"
Nice harmonies. I have no idea how this applies to my wedding. Except TV Stevie and I both feel that we should have eloped. And we didn't even have a big wedding. We're just not fancy-shmancy, do-it-up-big people.

PAYING THE DUES
FORTUNATE SON
(Creedence Clearwater Rivival)
"It ain’t me. I ain’t no Senator’s/millionaire’s son
It ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate one."
‘Nuff said.

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE WAR
SANE & NORMAL GIRLS/THANK YOU DOCTOR
(Menopause the Musical Soundtrack)
"I wish we all could be sane & normal girls"
Because if we were, there wouldn't be war.

FINAL BATTLE
LOVE SONG TO A STRANGER
(Joan Baez)
"Don’t tell me of love everlasting
and other sad dreams I don’t want to hear.
Just tell me of passionate strangers
who rescue each other from a lifetime of cares
If love means forever and expecting nothing in return
I hope I’ll be given another whole lifetime to learn"
Oh, wow. I don't even know this song. It's from a greatest hits album I have loaded into my mp3 player. But yuh. That's deep stuff.

MOMENT OF TRIUMPH
WHEN I PAINT MY MASTERPIECE
(His Bob-Ness/aka Bob Dylan)
YES!!!!
This is another fine example of random perfection.
"It sure has been one helluva time."
"One day everything is going to be different
When I paint my masterpiece."
When I write my Rita-winning, NY Times best-selling novel will definitely be my moment of triumph.

DEATH SCENE
CANTUS
(Connie Dover)
Beautiful song, filled with Latin, French, and incredible harmonies. It’s the story of the Crucifixion. A death scene for sure, but not mine.

FUNERAL SONG
BRAND NEW KEY
(Melanie)
"Don’t go too fast, but I go pretty far. . .
Some people say I done alright for a girl"
Can't ask for more than that.

END CREDITS
I KNOW YOU’RE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE
(The Moody Blues)
"The mist is lifting slowly, I can see my way ahead
I know I’ll find you somehow!
And somehow I’ll return again to you."
Or in the words of Arnold Schwartzenegger:
"I'll be back."

This was fun!

If anyone out there tries this, let me know.

And check out The Queen-a Athena's blog to see her answers.

Thanks, Kris.

The Party Line

Does anyone remember party lines? I'm talking about telephone party lines.

The notion of something so communal leaves Y-Chromo & X-Chromo aghast. They insist they are deprived because they don't have cell phones. And I wonder, "What would these spoiled teenagers do if they were on a party line?"

When I was very young, my parents did not have a telephone. When they finally had one installed, it was black, had a dial, and was hardwired to the kitchen wall. The handset was connected with a 6-foot spiral cord. And we were on an eight-party line. Eight households shared one telephone line. When the phone rang one long ring, it was for us. Mr. & Mrs. Shute were two short rings. I'm not sure how the other six parties managed.

Eventually, my parents moved up in the world and to a four-party line. Except one of the parties talked on the phone all day long, so no one else could use the phone. I remember my parents complaining to the phone company. The cost of a private line was prohibitive. My early teen years were spent listening to the clicks of the other parties either trying to get me off the phone or eavesdropping. Eventually, my parents went for a private line. I can't imagine how else I could have had those long, soulful conversations with my boyfriend.

When I moved out on my own, I opted for something new: a yellow telephone and touch tone. Yes, we had to pay extra for touch tone. Eventually, I bought my own phones, hooked up my own extensions, touch tone became the standard, etc., but I still never made long distance calls. Long distance calls were an unnecessary expense.

When I married TV Stevie, I was shocked that he called his mother long distance IN STATE (more expensive!) every week. I still hesitate before picking up the phone to call someone long distance. It's still new to me.

Isn't it amazing how technology has changed things? We have cordless phones in our house; long-distance calling is unlimited as part of our telephone and Internet package; we have speaker phones. Y-Chromo does his AP English homework on weekly conference calls -- via speaker phone -- with his friends. Cell phones are a way of life.

Except for Y-Chromo and X-Chromo.

They complain, and I remember the party line.

Here crittie, crittie, crittie...

Critique groups. One hears horror stories about them. Not so in my local RWA Chapter. We are the best local chapter, so it stands to reason that we would have the best critique groups, right?

For a very long time, there were only two organized critique groups in the chapter. After a couple of years, I was invited to join one when someone else dropped out. One of the best writing-related things that ever happened to me. We are a wonderful fit, all writing in different genres, and all very serious about our writing.

An influx of serious-about-writing members created several new critique groups. We long-time members love hearing how these newer members are forming groups the way we did. So now, in a chapter of about 40 members (give or take), we have 5, maybe 6 critique groups: The Packeteers, The Virgins and Prose, the Herkimer Diamonds, the Laptop Dancers, the Creek Critique--and perhaps one other group.

But a few meetings ago, something unusual happened. A member of one of the newer groups said to me, "We didn't know critique groups were supposed to do that." I've forgotten specifically what "that" was, but she mentioned it again at our chapter meeting yesterday: "We thought critique groups were just about reading each other's work and giving feed back."

Well, they are.

When we went around the room to share our accomplishments for the month, she heard that one of the crit groups had gone camping together. In the past, some of us have mentioned retreats, goal-setting sessions . . . all sorts of things.

There is no secret formula for a successful critique group. There is no list of rules. In fact, there is only one rule.

A critique group is about meeting the writing needs of its members.

No more, no less, and it's up to the members to decide what those needs are and how to address them.

My particular group is very much into goal setting and the writing itself. What do we do on retreat? Well, we write. That surprises some people. But that's what we do. We will rent a hotel suite for a long weekend, load up on food & beverages, decide on a couple of movies for movie nights, but the focus is on WRITING. We sit around with our laptops and/or AlphaSmarts, our mp3 or portable CD players and headphones . . . and write. Last retreat, I wrote over 20 pages in one day and finished the first draft of my then-WIP. Over MLK weekend in January, at least three of us had at least one 20-plus page day (I had two!).

It's about the writing. Sometimes more, but never, ever less.

Smile! You're On Wild Kingdom!

My husband's cousins have a son attending the Major University in my city. Cousin J e-mailed us to let us know they were coming in for parents' weekend and wanted to get together with us for dinner. TV Stevie & I checked our planners, and lo and behold: we were free on the evening suggested. TV e-mailed our acceptance, and Cousin J e-mailed back that she'd made reservations for 7:30pm, Saturday night at an Italian restaurant on the strip where all chain/theme restaurants dwell. This particular restaurant has four locations in upstate New York, which, I suppose, makes it a regional chain.

The parking lot was crowded when we arrived. The university's Homecoming Football game had gone into double overtime, creating unexpected crowds. A young man in a fedora, looking like an escapee from the original Godfather, had a walkie-talkie and a flashlight and was directing traffic in the lot. People congregated outside the restaurant doors, and not all of them were smoking.

After standing on line for several moments, we found Cousins H & J, their student son, and his girlfriend. The place was mobbed. And loud. When we finally made it to the hostess stand, what I'd been hearing on line was confirmed: a three hour wait for a table unless you'd done something referred to as "call ahead seating." Then the wait for a table was only an hour and a half.

At this point, we fell into a Woody Allen movie.

Cousin J said, "I have reservations for 7:30."

The hostess said, "We don't take reservations."

A woman standing next to me said in a downstate accent, "Yes, you do. Two days ago, I made reservations with you for 7:30 tonight."

Hostess: "We don't take reservations."

Cousin J: "I spoke to a man four days ago, and he took my reservation for 6 people for tonight at 7:30. I even asked if I need to call again and confirm and was told that wouldn't be necessary."

Hostess: "I'm sorry, we don't take reservations. All we do is have call-ahead seating. You can call up to a half-hour before you arrive, and when you arrive, we put your name ahead of everyone else. But we don't take reservations."

Third irrate customer, also speaking with downstate accent: "But a man took my reservation three days ago, for 7:30 tonight."

Manager arrives. He's fourteen, as opposed to the twelve-year-old hostess. "We never take reservations."

I start looking for cameras. For Woody.

Fourth irrate customer, from somewhere behind me, in a downstate accent: "Really? Someone took mine for tonight last week."

And so on. For several moments. In the meantime, the line behind us grew and grew, while more and more people, all with downstate accents, chimed in claiming that they, too, had made reservations for 7:30pm at this restaurant within the past week.

Manager and hostess continued to deny such a thing could happen.

Cousin J turns to me. "Is there some place else we could go?"

I suggest another Italian restaurant, not on the strip of chains, but close and easy to get to from where we were.

TV Stevie and I talked about it as we walked to our car. Mr. Fedora Parking Attendant apologize profusely and continued to peddle the myth of no reservations. He couldn't have been happy to hear us discuss a competitor. He, however, gets points for apologizing and for graciousness. I think he was sixteen.

Cousin J has a GPS in her vehicle, so she called the other restaurant and learned there was only a 90 minute wait. She had our names placed on the list.

The restaurant I'd suggested is actually two restaurants: fine dining downstairs and casual dining upstairs. We discovered there was only a 20 minute wait upstairs, so we opted for that.

What a treat! We could hear ourselves converse, the food was good, the atmosphere was better than a chain/theme restaurant . . . and they let us stay and talk until they were closing down.

Cousin J told us that her hotel had coupons for free drinks at the first restaurant and that she would collect all she could and mail them to us. They arrived yesterday. Each coupon is good for one free alcoholic beverage with every entree purchased.

Revenge isn't always sweet. Sometimes, it's liquid.

My critique group and I are making plans . . .