Day 15/16: Your Favorite Tumblrs & Your Views on Mainstream Music

Yesterday and today have been combined. Not only are Mondays particularly busy for me; my husband is also sick, so I figured my time was better spent doing anything BUT blogging. Besides—I don’t  know what a “Tumblr” is, and as I am currently inundated by social media, I have no desire to learn. I’m currently on a semi-break from Facebook and Twitter (why can people NOT understand this?!?!? My Twitter and Instagram feeds directly to my Facebook. So, I was barely on Facebook for a few days, but I was tweeting, and people were like, “I thought you said you were off of Facebook?” DUH. Look at the source—everything says it’s from Twitter! SO, because people can be clueless, I’ve stopped tweeting, too. I just need a break; if I hadn’t committed to this blog, I wouldn’t be doing it, either.). I figure if it’s that important, people have my cell phone number.

I don’t have a “favorite Tumblr.” ‘Nuff said.

As far as mainstream music goes, I don’t have much of an opinion. There’s not much to have an opinion on (at risk of sounding like my parents). I do love the trend of the “return of the musician.” Bands like Mumford & Sons, OAR, Of Mice & Men, or The Lumineers—these are bands that feature true talent, rather than the auto-tuned pop crap that we’ve all been subject to for the past few decades. I can appreciate their sound…Don’t get me wrong; there is a time and a place for synthesized hot messes. I just have no idea what that time and place is (then again, I’ve never been on drugs, so maybe that’s the answer?  Maybe techno actually sounds good when you’re stoned? I have no idea.).

I love that every few years, the exact same sound in music comes back around, only THIS time, it has a new name…like “dubstep.” (Now I REALLY sound like my parents. Or perhaps, like the two grumpy old men Muppets….) Dubstep is nothing more than dance music with a better bass and more computerized accents. To me, “dance,” “techno,” and “club” are the exact same thing, at different speeds. “Pop” could be anything. “Metal” is just…well, it has been/is/will remain total crap, as will anything with “metal” in the title. I have too many headaches to deal with that stuff.

Again, I know that I sound about 30 years older than I am. I really, really like folk music…music that features a story, well-played instruments, and very little post-production nonsense. I like a skilled musician…I’m a sucker for a good acoustic guitar player. I will always, always love Billy Joel—he may be the only piano player I could listen to, for hours. Jason Mraz makes my heart smile. I surprisingly like Phillip Phillips, and I do NOT like American Idol, so that was a lovely find. If I’m going to listen to pop, I like Mika—he’s like lyrical sunshine, politics aside.

I suppose I should give a section of this article to Christian music. I can spend more time telling you what I don’t like, than what I do like, which is sad. It seems like CCM (Contemporary Christian Music) has sounded the EXACT SAME for the past 25 years. Nothing (and I mean, NOTHING) has changed. Even the bands I grew up with—Rather than find fresh, new talent, they simply went back and picked other singers from other bands that were popular in the ‘90’s. I think that’s kind of selfish.

There is other talent out there, guys. There is no need to be a 50 year-old rapper, and it hurts my heart to say that, because I was and am such a huge fan…Take a break, and raise up the next generation.

Christian musicians are being taken away by secular bands who recognize their talent. The world is stealing our kids, folks, because Christian record labels ARE NOT GIVING THEM AN OUTLET!!!  It’s time for CCM magazines to STOP telling us what Christian bands “sound like” secular musicians. Why aren’t WE the forerunners?

We’ve got the market on praise music, sure…and that’s great. But let’s be truthful: Most of us are not sitting in our offices listening to Maranatha. We need music that gets us up and running. CCM artists tend to provide CCM radio stations with a blander version of their songs, just to get airplay (because, God forbid, CCM radio stations NOT SUCK!); we’re stuck with boring versions of songs that are played on heavy rotation (I swear, I seriously heard “Who Am I” like, 4 times in one day), and we’re sick of them! When you land on an internet-based Christian station like NGEN that plays upbeat, fun Christian music, you almost want to cry in desperation—it’s like water in the desert.

There are Christian artists that are pushing the envelope. Andy Mineo (rap) is amazing. Lecrae has been doing this forever; he, and artists like Tedashii, are making waves in all markets of rap music. But I don’t know where the artists are that can buck the trends. I like the Pistol Annies. Can we get a female Christian artist that doesn’t sound like a doormat?  Where are the musical Rahabs and Deborahs? 

When I found NGEN radio, I about blew up my local library—I’d write down the artists, and check out the CD. I found some amazing artists that I’d never heard of in St. Louis. Our radio market has one of the largest Christian radio stations in the country (Joy FM), yet it’s hardly the kind of music that is going to find its way into popular music. It’s boring and it’s overplayed. Any port in a storm—I do listen to it. And I know I sound like such a jerk—there is a POWERFUL ministry there. I realize that I’m among the overchurched spoiled brats who just want to be impressed. I know. I get so caught up in my own sarcasm that I forget about the lives that stations like Joy FM, or The Bridge have touched. It’s touched my life more than I realize. 

But there’s more out there.

Christian music has got to spread its’ wings, musically, and socially. There is more to Christian music than CCM, but very little means to publicize it, which is where the church MUST step up. We have to fund it; we have to run it; we have to produce it. We have to stick our necks out there, physically and financially. Some of us aren’t in a place where we can; others are in a place of abundance. We need to give when/where we can.

Music has a way to reach people across every level. It breaks through borders and language barriers; financial separations and logistical nightmares. Music affects us all, and as Christians, we need to make it our very strongest weapon (outside of prayer).  The walls of Jericho fell through obedience, prayer, and through MUSIC—worshipping God. Imagine what WE could do with the same methods?

So, my views on mainstream music are a little bit more than just an opinion on bands. They’re a philosophy. And that’s it.

Day 14: My earliest memory...

My earliest memory is one that took place SO early in my life, that some might swear it's not possible, that I remember it.
When I was two years old, my mother and biological father divorced (No, I don't remember THAT!). That divorce left my mother, who up until then, had pretty much been a stay-at-home mother of two. She had started waitressing at the local truck stop (you may have heard of it on the Route 66 shows--the Diamond's Restaurant & Inn in Gray Summit, off of old '66. It no longer exists), part-time; when she and my father split up, it left her alone, with a 6 year-old and a 2 year-old, and only a waitressing gig to support us all.
I won't go into details on the child support (and lack thereof). I will say that my mother asked for a PALTRY amount, and in spite of that, my father's wages (at Chrysler) had to be garnished.
We weren't even worth that, to him.
(Insert sad violin. Okay, stop. Really.)
Anyways, my mother worked hard...and my earliest memory recalls a time I was in a high chair at that Diamond's Inn restaurant. I remember the glass case full of souveniers; I remember the cigarette smoke (because back then, you could smoke anywhere in a restaurant); and I actually remember the little ash trays and the yellow waitressing outfits (think Alice, for those of you who are old enough to remember). I don't remember anything else about the place; just that.
It wasn't the first time that my mother had to take one or both of us to work with her. My mom was eventually blessed with a fantastic job with the post office. I can remember sleeping in mail bins, and learning how to sort mail at a very young age (they do NOT let anyone do that, now--we're talking 30 years ago!). The smell of a post office still makes me smile..
But not the smell of cigarettes...
Or greasy diners....
My earliest memory forged an attitude that my mother has passed down to me, and that I am proud to have: You do what you have to, for your family. You work. You take care of your family, no matter what. My mother worked her rear end off for us. Now that I'm a parent, I see a tiny sliver of the sacrifices she made, and I have the most amplified respect for her--I never understood, until now. My mother is an incredible woman, and I'm so proud of her...

Day 13: Somewhere I'd Like to Move or Visit

Doing this blog challenge, silly though most of the topics may be, is requiring me to write every single day. Even though the subject matter is pretty fluffy, just getting into this practice again is really nice! I'm taking a Facebook/Twitter break for a few days, so this is my only outlet. Sometimes, comments or status updates from people get under my skin. I'm not going to lie--there have been a few this week that have brought out some Hulk in me. Rawr!!!  So, even though the subject matters are kinda fluffy, sitting down to write is a very therapeutic thing for me...But I digress!
Somewhere I'd like to move or visit....
My first response is always Georgia. Granted, I've barely visited the West Coast...or the East Coast...But I feel like I was born a southerner at heart. When I can't sleep, and I'm designing my dream house, it's always, always, always, always in Georgia. I can see myself in a hammock on a wrap-around porch, drinking iced tea and reading a book. I can see the sunset over the landscape, and I know that Georgia is where I'm meant to be. So, for whatever strange reason that I've never understood, it's Georgia. I'd like to live there.
As far as where I'd like to visit, that list is endless. Israel tops the list. I'd like to give Paris another try (since my first trip there SUCKED)...New York City (but only if I had a LOT of money and a bodyguard)...I'd like to go back to Guatemala and Costa Rica with my family, to show them the beautiful people and the amazing culture...
I'd like to go on missions' trips that are off of the beaten path...
Oh, and add St. John to one of those places I wouldn't mind living. If you've been there, you get it.
I want to go to the Grand Canyon...to Galveston, TX...to a lot of places in Canada...
I definitely want to take a train and a cruise through/over/around Alaska...
I'd love to go to Italy and Greece...and Ireland...and back to England...
This could be a pretty big list, so I'm stopping here. 
But I have to come back to Georgia...
And I have to live there...
Someday.

Day 12: Bullet your day

Okay, I THINK it's Day 12...Sheesh.

Today’s blog asks me to bullet out my day.

Seriously? (I find myself reacting incredulously to most of these blog “challenges.” Like, who has time to think these questions up? And couldn’t you come up with something more interesting? Anyways…)

•  Alarm goes off.
• Hit alarm.
•    Repeat two more times, until I realize it’s 4:30am, and there is no possible way that I can avoid taking a shower today.
•   Roll out of bed (which is difficult, as the pack-and-play is blocking my side of the bed.)
•     Try to avoid kicking the way-too-excited-this-early-in-the-morning dog, which is nearly impossible, as she’s weaving in-and-out of my feet. She’s #60, folks. That’s not easy to maneuver around, especially when you’re bleary-eyed.
•  Sneak up to the door of the “guest” room, where my mom is sleeping with my baby boy.  Grandma takes him one night a week, so that Mommy and Daddy can have one uninterrupted night of sleep. It’s a blessing, but I sure miss him…even his 1:30am kick attacks…
•   Hit the showers, and begin the rushed-but-who-cares process of “getting ready” for work. If it were possible to shower and sleep, new moms would have patented the process by now.
• Grab the clothes I laid out the night before. Pants too tight…begin self-deprecation…bad-luck bra, but I don’t care, because it’s comfy. And on a day like today, when I’m at the end of 4 12-hour days (10-hour shifts, 2 hours of driving), comfort is key.
•   Remind myself that I have coffee at the office, and that my pre-made breakfast is in the staff kitchen. I’m starving, but I’m out of time….and money, so I determine that I will NOT stop for breakfast OR coffee.
• 10.   I’m up and out of the door in 30 minutes. I’ve showered, gotten dressed, thrown on what little makeup I wear for the day (mascara), fed and watered the dog, unearthed my keys, grabbed my water bottle, and I’m on the road. I’m not going to say that I drive like Mario Andretti…but I do.
•   The best thing about being on the road at 5:00am is that there are few people on the road, and fewer cops. Making my way to the highway usually means that I’m avoiding more deer than people (or skunks!). Most of us on the highway are in a rush, so the average speed is about 15 mph above the posted limits. I can appreciate that, even in my beater.
•    Once I’m at work, anything can happen—I’m not going to bullet my day, here, because it would bore most people to tears. I usually like it; it’s quiet, I set my own agenda, and I’ve gotten to a point in my field where I’m fairly comfortable. I know certain things I recommend/say will not be respected, so I don’t get my hopes up. I also know that I bring a particular kind of organization to my field, and that’s appreciated by the people I need information from. Although I don’t always feel liked, I rarely feel blatantly DISliked, and I’m okay with that.
•  At work, I need to figure out how to respectfully back out of certain conversations. I’m not good at it, because I don’t like to be rude. However, certain people have made a career out of discussing others, and I don’t like to get trapped in the net. Once you’re in it, it’s nearly impossible to extricate yourself; next thing you know, you’re implicated in a hot mess of gossip that you had no intentions of getting tangled up in. It’s best to back out of the conversation, and close the office door—this is what I am doing, today.
•    I took off a little bit early today, because of a meeting I was supposed to have. I’m now highly debating that meeting, and considering cancelling. I don’t feel well; the anxiety over this meeting has escalated to point at which I know God is trying to tell me something. I think I will just go home, and get some rest.
• Today, I will process medical records requests…work on credentialing doctors with a large number of insurance companies…do a LOT of scanning….call people who are too disorganized to remember that they have doctors’ appointments…attempt to straighten up my office, as it’s been a busy week, and it’s a mess…
• Today, I will slug through my morning in a sleep-deprived, zombie state. I will drive to work by the grace of God, and I will appreciate that I have this thing down to the minute.
•  Today, I will avoid having a particular conversation with my husband that has me at my wits’ end.  I will try to avoid saying harsh words and hurting feelings; I will try to express that it is a need to protect/prevent, and a feeling of helplessness, that has me so volatile. It is the injustice of the situation…the oppressiveness that entraps.   Today, I will probably cry at least once, if not twice, because I feel powerless…because I am having to lay things before God that I am tired of laying before Him. He’s not tired of hearing me, though…and I know He DOES hear. He knows our hearts, and He knows our struggles. He’s not deaf. I will look at my son, and I will remember that God keeps His promises. He doesn’t want His people in chains; He’s the Father of “Let My People GO!” We’re meant to run, free. Time for victory.
• Today, I will go home and snuggle the sweetest baby boy on this planet; I will embrace every moment that I get to spend with him over the next 3 days, until I have to leave him again for my work week.  Today, I will try not to think about that, and will try to focus on the future we are building for him….
•    Today, my week ends, and I am thankful. I’m thankful to be employed during tough times; I’m thankful that days like today are full of things to do. I’m thankful that I will hopefully get some sleep tonight.
• So, that’s basically my day. I’m not bullet-ing it out—do you REALLY need to know that I brewed two cups of coffee this morning, or that my egg wrap was wonderful? Did you need to know that I’m out of Greek yogurt, and that I need to go to the grocery store, or there will be a Greek tragedy? I don’t think you care, and frankly, I wouldn’t, either.  Today will go faster than normal, and I couldn’t be more thankful. I hope your Friday is fabulous, and ends with a restful night’s sleep…

Day 11: Assault of the iPod

I've actually REALLY been looking forward to today's post. I think a playlist says a lot about a person. So, today's challenge is to put your iPod on shuffle, and list the first 10 songs that played. Here's my list:

1.   “Joe Cool Blues” by Wynton Marsalis (I kid you not, that was the first song. I officially feel cooler than I did 10 minutes ago)
2.  “Bye Bye Bye” by ‘N Sync (Consider my "cool" feeling utterly destroyed)
3. “Kiss the Rain” by Yiruma (Yep--it's from the "Twilight" soundtrack. Shut up.)
4.  “Don’t Need A Reason” by Missy Higgins (Just a good singer. I really like her music).
5.  “Don’t Talk (Put Your Head on My Shoulder”) by The Beach Boys (I hate The Beach Boys. Or should I say, I dislike their "lead" singer? I lost a lot of respect for him after seeing part of a free concert of theirs a few years ago. I thought he was terribly rude.)
6.    “Above All” by Steve Fee and Candi Pearson (I have a lot of worship music on here, so I'm a bit surprised that only one song came up)
7. “Shelter From the Storm (Alternate Version)” by Bob Dylan (Kind of like Michael W Smith--I'm not a fan of the voice, but I like the lyrics. I just got my cool factor back!)
8.   “Creep” by Macy Gray (I love this version of this song. It's totally brilliant...minus Macy's weird need to drop F-bombs in the chorus!!! TOTALLY RUINS IT! I'm like, did you REALLY have to do that?!? It's so good, without it!)
9.     “Memory” by Sarah Brightman (Amazing. Perfect. Vocal history. Not enough words, to describe this woman's voice)
10. “Secret” by The Veronicas (Questionable band. I like them...but I don't know why.)

So, there you go. Form your own opinions. I've been in the process of trying to filter my music collection (bye, Tupac. Sigh), as it's time to grow up. It's time to purify.  So, slowly-but-surely, things are getting deleted....and I'm feeling a whole lot better about listening to my iPod around my son...

Day 10: Your First Kiss, and Your First Love

Gee, that’s kinda personal…

I was 14 years old, when I was kissed for the very first time…by John Potter….at a church retreat. Yay, church retreats! Sorry, youth pastors!

It was your typical, super-sweet kind of kiss that you put in the back of your memory and cherish for its innocence…but I think that 14 is way too young to be getting your first kiss (at least, for MY son)!!! 

My first love was a summer romance that was also the kind of thing that you put in the back of your memory, and cherish for its innocence…His name was Scott, he was a little younger than me, and we met while I was working in a grocery store during my summer leave from college. He had to finish his senior year; I had to go away to school…you can see it was doomed from the start. I broke it off—I was the Mean Girl, and I didn’t handle it well. I have absolutely nothing negative to say about him or the relationship. It was a beautiful thing—my mother was appalled, and I didn’t care. His home life was terrible; mine was stressed. We liked nothing more than the peacefulness of driving down back roads and blaring the stereo as loud as we could (I blame Scott for my love of country roads, taking the long way home, and for a pickup truck). He played guitar (no, I mean, HE PLAYED guitar. This guy played sessions with BB King. He’s phenomenal), and I have to say that I really and truly loved him. He actually played Celine Dion songs for me in the car—so, I have a suspicion that he loved me, too.

But, the separation of college (and the advances of a particular student) had me wondering if the grass was greener? And in my foolishness, I sent him a “Dear Scott” letter…(I absolutely did not break it off with him, because I started something else. “Something else” wouldn’t interrupt my life for a few more weeks). If I had it all to do over again, I wouldn’t change a thing about that summer. It was the stuff that country songs and Disney radio thrive off of. The only thing I would change is how/when/where I broke it off, because that was stupid. The summer of 1996 is on my list of favorite summers, and I have very few regrets.  That fall, however? NOTHING but regrets. I think the comparison of that summer and fall/winter made me value the innocence of the relationship that I had with Scott, even more.

I ran into his sister a few years after we broke up, and she was STILL furious with me. I didn’t realize that I’d broken his heart…and that broke mine, because I’d ruined a wonderful thing. Scott & I reconnected on Facebook a few years ago, and caught up…but I am married now, to an incredible guy, so the conversation was handled delicately.

My husband generally doesn’t read my blog; he knows my story, so I don’t really have a problem writing all of this out there. We were in our late 20’s when we met, so we both have past relationships and stories. This is where it counts: Scott may have been my first love, but David is my TRUE love. He’s the man God meant for me, and I wouldn’t trade him for anything. However, if David wrote about his true love, I’d be clawing the computer screen out (‘cause I’m jealous like that). I think that David is secure enough in our relationship to appreciate the nuances of a summer romance.

I met my husband in person on May 3^rd, 2002, and our first summer together was an amazing season of learning, experiencing, trial-and-error, and more. THAT summer was so much more than a “summer romance;” it was a summer of laying foundations…of breaking off scars and wounds….of healing and hoping, and of beautiful, exquisite wonder…

So, as I’m writing about that “first love,”  just know that although I look back on that relationship fondly, it’s okay. We should be able to have pleasant memories with our exes, without our spouse feeling threatened or without people throwing suspicion or accusations around. It’s a happy memory, from a long time ago…but it’s just a memory.

When I leave this place tonight, I’m going home to my present…and it is such a gift! I wouldn’t change a thing.