Fighting Basics for Artists

There is a blessing and a curse to being in a family of creative types. We can’t turn off the creativity and it seeps into everything, from our doodles and humor to, in the case of my brother, sister and I, how we fought each other.
It wasn’t just a slap here or a tripping foot there; it was hours and days spent figuring out a way to accidentally kill each other. We were viscous. Knock down, drag out, attempt-to-throw-out-a-window viscous. My mom wouldn’t let me take karate in 6^th grade because she was sure I’d permanently damage my little brother; she knew I didn’t need the edge that karate would have given me. I was shocked and disappointed she didn’t believe in me/saw through my plan. She tried strict rules but the three of us would figure out ways to de-tangle what she saw as a water-tight web and still manage to inflict the maximum physical harm. Mom said we weren’t allowed to hit each other so instead we’d pick up our sweet, mild-mannered cat, Sam, shake her up and then launch her legs-first at whoever had incurred our wrath in hopes that she, in her airborne panic, would latch onto their faces. Usually, this worked splendidly. Sam would screech in mid-air and then land with her claws wrapped around my brother’s head. And I didn’t cause the injury, Sam did. I didn’t touch Elliott’s face, I don’t know how those scratches got there, Mom.

And you thought you and your siblings had cat fights....

Dunno

This was Summer, 2004 and it was Dave and Shelby's wedding. Dave is in the red vest, Elena is being the tiny goof between Dave and I and on the end is our boss, the reason we all know each other: Anna B. Later on we tried to roll and run on the hay bails behind us. It was a good wedding.
The scary thing to me is out of everyone in this photo, I am the only one who hasn't had cancer since it was taken. Anna found out that fall she had precancerous growths; she was 33. This past fall Dave came down with a softball-sized tumor in the middle of his chest. He did six months of chemo and just had surgery last week. He's weak but he's fighting. He just turned 30.
Yesterday afternoon Elena called me saying she had news. She's been with the same great guy for close to three years now so I was expecting the usual, "I'm engaged!" call I've fielded dozens of times. Instead the call revolved around cortisol levels and the hypothalamus and thalamus and the words "tumor" and "pituitary" together. Elena is 26.
It isn't like I know a whole bunch of people from AL; 30 at the most. And then three come down with tumors? At such young ages? I don't understand it, and I'm scared. It is early, she still has a lot of tests before she knows the extent of the tumor and whether to be scared, but I can't help it. She's one of my closest friends.
How does that happen?

That's Bleepin' Fantastic

Special thanks to Ian and Tammy, who shared this gem this weekend and has had me laughing for about four days straight. I mean that's funny stuff right there.

Dreaming (your) Dreams

My friend Seth just sent this to me and it cracked me up...

"In a dream last night I came to a rather disturbing conclusion as to why there were so many hippies/[our high school] grads that had congregated in the same place (Asheville). I dreamt that you all had become part of a dissident school for the performing arts that based its recruiting off of facebook friend lists. You all had built a stronghold in an old castle and had even tricked the us army into giving you all your own rotc branch with which you were building your army. It was like "red dawn" for 20 somethings with makeup and tights. And there were many people there from our graduating class. Apparently rush limbaugh has invaded my dreams and is accessing my facebook friend list. I'm nuts."


HAHAHAHHAHA! Love it.

Up and At 'Em

Now that I sit at a computer most of my day, I’ve gotten back into Pandora. I need something background, some little bits of ambience. Besides that, I’ve been mulling over the same few songs that have been the only thing that has the ability to get me up and going in the morning. I haven’t posted a musical list lately so here it is.

What Drags My Ass Outta Bed, April 2009 edition:
Kids—MGMT
My Only Offer—Mates of State (this one especially)
Carpetbaggers—Jenny Lewis
Nothing to Worry About—Peter Bjorn and John
Don’t Call Me Whitney, Bobby—The Islands
Sugarlumps—Fight of the Conchords
Road to Joy—Bright Eyes
Myriad Harbour—New Pornographers
Hard Worker—Avett Brothers
This is Not a Test—She & Him
New Soul—Yael Naim