Disclaimer: And now the conclusion, if you're now just joining start here.
Warning: Adult content
"The way I'm loving you
Oh, what can I do
Insatiable, for you
My love for you insatiable"
Just when both were bout to reach the promise land of explosive ecstasy, his phone rings. He would've been able to ignore it had his ring tone not been set to play "Highway to Hell", and seeing that to the Catholic church what he was doing would constitute a one way ticket to such a place he was knocked off cloud nine. He grabs his cell phone with his free hand and searched for the ignore button . By the time he looks back at the computer all he sees is a hand waving goodbye. Before he could type in a question or a plea, his guest was already gone, along with his hard-on. There's much to be said about not "finishing", and most if it came out in curses. His phone beeps and alerts him of a voice mail. He listens to it with about as much enthusiasm as one would have anticipating a root canal. Under the sounds of thumping music he could hear his friend asking him to come to the second floor of the club and rescue him from his predicament. Hanging around the guy he's desperately in to yet sees him as nothing more than just another infatuated friend. Our fourth can hear the frustration and sadness in his voice. It's the second time he'd had to hear it. The first time was earlier this evening at the jazz club. Maybe never knowing his mystery man is a form of penance for all of this guilt. Having worn the shoes of one that victimizes, he turns a new leaf and decides to play for the other team and makes haste to save his friend.
In another part of town, we find our first person shutting down his computer after a round of guilty pleasure on the net. He's managed to keep himself unknown to his cyber pal, fearing that to reveal himself would only subject him to either ridicule, or speculations of obsessive behavior. Maybe he is obsessed, tragic as that may sound he will openly admit to that. And what he's doing may perhaps be shady, but he will rob this guy of stolen affections, even if it is through deception. Love's never always pretty he reasons. His cell phone buzzes and sees a text coming through. It's from his roommate, telling him of his awful night. After one too many drinks and a surreal encounter with his ex, he's on his way home and asks his roomie to prepare some coffee and himself for a postmortem.
We see all four in their various situations. One making coffee and rationalizing, one sitting absentmindedly on a couch in a sea of random people and drinks awaiting his salvation, one in a cab ride home, fighting off tears of frustration and intoxication, and one stepping out of his apartment as he tries to redeem himself and be a hero. Somewhere, by an open window, we hear the radio playing a song. An elegy to all their unrequited love.
"Some people live their dreams
Some people close their eyes
Some people's destiny
Passes by
There are no guarantees
There are no alibis
That's how our love must be
Don't ask why
It takes some time
God knows how long
I know that I can forget you
As soon as my heart stops breaking
Anticipating
As soon as forever is through
I'll be over you"
Friday, May 30, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Unrequited Love Pt 4
Disclaimer: If you're now just partaking in this adventure, start here.
Warning: Adult Content
"...you're looking better than a body
has the right to
And shaking me up so
That all I really know
Is here you come again
And here I go"
They lock eyes but for a moment. Suddenly a hand with a drink is presented to the man by the entrance belonging to a very amorous gentleman, whom he greets back with a hug and proceeds to flirt with. The sight of him laughing in delight and interacting lovingly with this intruder was enough to jog our third person back to his senses, and back at the bar where he's been day dreaming the whole time. But the "new comer" was very real, and was leading the object of his affections away to the upper level of the club. Annoyed, the third person asks for another shot. The bartender obliges, and gives him a double, but then decides that the drink will only further his misery. So he declines, pays his tab, and makes his way towards the coat check line.
The club shares a wall with a line of condo apartments. Our fourth lives right behind that shared wall, and his cries for silence falls short. Banging on the wall doesn't help, for it is merely drowned out by the music and vibrations already caused by the club itself. Defeated, he lies back down and thinks of how lousy the evening has been. Earlier he joined some friends at a local jazz lounge where he had to endure listening to a scorned lover sing about him. That song was about him, he's certain of this. And now the guilt is keeping him up, along with the aforementioned nuisance.
He grabs his pillow and blanket and walks across the hall to the computer room. He can close the door and the sound would be muted. He throws his accouterments onto the day bed and walks over to his computer. He turns it on and searches the web for something to read that will lull him back to sleep. A message pops up, asking him to cam. He looks at the screen name, and no sooner has he done so did he feel a familiar tightening in his boxers. He goes and closes up the blinds before rushing back to his seat. He accepts the invitation and a screen pops up. This isn't the first time they've done this. An occasional cyber-lover, who's presence is always a welcomed distraction. He never sees his face, which adds to his allure. Completely nude, the camera runs up and down his body showcasing every hard and supple parts. Hands roaming around, gently caressing and groping maliciously. Music is emminating from the other side of the screen, his guest is playing a song for them.
Our fourth reaches for the hardness between his legs and begins to gently stroke it in rhythm. He smiles as he cajoles the other to do the same. Aiming to please, the man follows suit. For a moment there's no lack of sleep, no noisy wall, and no guilt.
"When moonlight crawls along the street
Chasing away the summer heat
Footsteps outside somewhere below
The world revolves I let it go..."
Warning: Adult Content
"...you're looking better than a body
has the right to
And shaking me up so
That all I really know
Is here you come again
And here I go"
They lock eyes but for a moment. Suddenly a hand with a drink is presented to the man by the entrance belonging to a very amorous gentleman, whom he greets back with a hug and proceeds to flirt with. The sight of him laughing in delight and interacting lovingly with this intruder was enough to jog our third person back to his senses, and back at the bar where he's been day dreaming the whole time. But the "new comer" was very real, and was leading the object of his affections away to the upper level of the club. Annoyed, the third person asks for another shot. The bartender obliges, and gives him a double, but then decides that the drink will only further his misery. So he declines, pays his tab, and makes his way towards the coat check line.
The club shares a wall with a line of condo apartments. Our fourth lives right behind that shared wall, and his cries for silence falls short. Banging on the wall doesn't help, for it is merely drowned out by the music and vibrations already caused by the club itself. Defeated, he lies back down and thinks of how lousy the evening has been. Earlier he joined some friends at a local jazz lounge where he had to endure listening to a scorned lover sing about him. That song was about him, he's certain of this. And now the guilt is keeping him up, along with the aforementioned nuisance.
He grabs his pillow and blanket and walks across the hall to the computer room. He can close the door and the sound would be muted. He throws his accouterments onto the day bed and walks over to his computer. He turns it on and searches the web for something to read that will lull him back to sleep. A message pops up, asking him to cam. He looks at the screen name, and no sooner has he done so did he feel a familiar tightening in his boxers. He goes and closes up the blinds before rushing back to his seat. He accepts the invitation and a screen pops up. This isn't the first time they've done this. An occasional cyber-lover, who's presence is always a welcomed distraction. He never sees his face, which adds to his allure. Completely nude, the camera runs up and down his body showcasing every hard and supple parts. Hands roaming around, gently caressing and groping maliciously. Music is emminating from the other side of the screen, his guest is playing a song for them.
Our fourth reaches for the hardness between his legs and begins to gently stroke it in rhythm. He smiles as he cajoles the other to do the same. Aiming to please, the man follows suit. For a moment there's no lack of sleep, no noisy wall, and no guilt.
"When moonlight crawls along the street
Chasing away the summer heat
Footsteps outside somewhere below
The world revolves I let it go..."
Friday, May 23, 2008
Unrequited Love Pt 3
Disclaimer: If you're now just tuning in, begin from here.
"I don't want to be lonely tonight
No, no
I don't want to be lonely tonight"
As soon as the song was finished, as if on cue, everyone got up and went about their business. No one clapped or cheered accolades. The performance ended with the shuffling of stools and chairs being placed up on tables. He shrugs, puts the guitar in it's case, and continued to clean up the stage.
After all was done, he walks out and over to a dance club right across the street that was now in full swing. He by passes the line and greets the bouncer who gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder as he lets him in. The house is packed with a variety of men. Some clad in designer duds, some half naked wearing nothing more than just sweat above the torso. All are gyrating to the beat of the bass resonating across the floor, limbs intertwined in a ritual mating dance.
Over to the bar is a congregation of friends and acquaintances taking shot after shot of liquid happiness. They laugh heartily and proclaim their singlehood out loud. Our third person cocks his head back and sways to the rhythm of the music. Someone comes and clasps their arms around his waist so that he may arch himself even further without spilling onto the floor. He opens his eyes and views the world upside down, taking in the scene from different angles as he swayed side to side. He immerses himself in the moment. Free from the shackles of a relationship, he's able to do whatever or whomever he wants. A new view, where it's all about him and no one else. His terms, his rules, his world.
He squints his eyes as he spots someone he seem to recognize from several yards away. He rights himself up and pushes gently away from his helpful someone to get a better look at the person by the entrance. The man stood there, meek yet dignified. Our third person backs himself onto the bar, shuts his eyes, and tries in vain to sober up. He'd just seen a "ghost". In the darkness he can see images of the past in flashes like a strobe light. Seeing this person seemed to have just sucked all the cool out of him. When he opens his eyes once more, the whole scene moved as if it was submerged in clear molasses. It could be the alcohol, it must be the alcohol. He slowly makes his way through the crowd, unsure, unprepared. Keeping his eyes on the target, he whispers a song to himself...
"Here you come again
Just when I've begun to get myself together
You waltz right in the door
Just like you've done before
And wrap my heart 'round your little finger..."
"I don't want to be lonely tonight
No, no
I don't want to be lonely tonight"
As soon as the song was finished, as if on cue, everyone got up and went about their business. No one clapped or cheered accolades. The performance ended with the shuffling of stools and chairs being placed up on tables. He shrugs, puts the guitar in it's case, and continued to clean up the stage.
After all was done, he walks out and over to a dance club right across the street that was now in full swing. He by passes the line and greets the bouncer who gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder as he lets him in. The house is packed with a variety of men. Some clad in designer duds, some half naked wearing nothing more than just sweat above the torso. All are gyrating to the beat of the bass resonating across the floor, limbs intertwined in a ritual mating dance.
Over to the bar is a congregation of friends and acquaintances taking shot after shot of liquid happiness. They laugh heartily and proclaim their singlehood out loud. Our third person cocks his head back and sways to the rhythm of the music. Someone comes and clasps their arms around his waist so that he may arch himself even further without spilling onto the floor. He opens his eyes and views the world upside down, taking in the scene from different angles as he swayed side to side. He immerses himself in the moment. Free from the shackles of a relationship, he's able to do whatever or whomever he wants. A new view, where it's all about him and no one else. His terms, his rules, his world.
He squints his eyes as he spots someone he seem to recognize from several yards away. He rights himself up and pushes gently away from his helpful someone to get a better look at the person by the entrance. The man stood there, meek yet dignified. Our third person backs himself onto the bar, shuts his eyes, and tries in vain to sober up. He'd just seen a "ghost". In the darkness he can see images of the past in flashes like a strobe light. Seeing this person seemed to have just sucked all the cool out of him. When he opens his eyes once more, the whole scene moved as if it was submerged in clear molasses. It could be the alcohol, it must be the alcohol. He slowly makes his way through the crowd, unsure, unprepared. Keeping his eyes on the target, he whispers a song to himself...
"Here you come again
Just when I've begun to get myself together
You waltz right in the door
Just like you've done before
And wrap my heart 'round your little finger..."
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Unrequited Love Pt 2
Disclaimer: If you are now just tuning in, here's the first part of this story.
"...and there I'll be
While I rot with the rest
Of those whose lives are
Lonely too"
The lounge is now empty of patrons, and light has been turned on to reveal the aftermath. The whole place turns into a totally different world, devoid of atmosphere and ambiance. The remnants of the evening is being handled by a couple of bar backs and bartenders. Everyone's aware of their individual tasks done routinely every evening and so move in monotonous pace as if battery operated.
On stage, a second person puts away several cords and tripods used earlier that evening during the performance. He gingerly places various equipment back in their cases as if they were fragile artifacts. Suddenly the quiet droning is interrupted by the buzzing of his cell phone. A familiar name flashes on caller id that once used to send a rush of giddiness through him. He's apprehensive about answering, as if to do so would be like opening Pandora's box. He does so anyway, against his better judgment. Pleasantries were exchanged, and we see him smile and agree to a plan set after he's done with work. After he hangs up, he takes a deep breath and ponders for a second.
He takes a step back that nudges the stool which was supporting a guitar leaned against it. He manages to catch it by the neck preventing any damage. He then picks it up and tunes it as he sits on the stool. He picks at the strings gently as to not attract attention, which failed miserably as he failed to notice that the guitar was still connected to an amp. He suddenly feels eyes staring at him. He's shy by nature, this second person of ours. So instead of looking up, he acknowledges his audience of layman workers by singing. And they, in turn, drop what they were doing for a second to settle into chairs, light their cigarettes, and listen to his affirmation.
"Do me wrong, do me right
Tell me lies but hold me tight
Save your goodbyes for the morning light
But don't let me be lonely tonight"
"...and there I'll be
While I rot with the rest
Of those whose lives are
Lonely too"
The lounge is now empty of patrons, and light has been turned on to reveal the aftermath. The whole place turns into a totally different world, devoid of atmosphere and ambiance. The remnants of the evening is being handled by a couple of bar backs and bartenders. Everyone's aware of their individual tasks done routinely every evening and so move in monotonous pace as if battery operated.
On stage, a second person puts away several cords and tripods used earlier that evening during the performance. He gingerly places various equipment back in their cases as if they were fragile artifacts. Suddenly the quiet droning is interrupted by the buzzing of his cell phone. A familiar name flashes on caller id that once used to send a rush of giddiness through him. He's apprehensive about answering, as if to do so would be like opening Pandora's box. He does so anyway, against his better judgment. Pleasantries were exchanged, and we see him smile and agree to a plan set after he's done with work. After he hangs up, he takes a deep breath and ponders for a second.
He takes a step back that nudges the stool which was supporting a guitar leaned against it. He manages to catch it by the neck preventing any damage. He then picks it up and tunes it as he sits on the stool. He picks at the strings gently as to not attract attention, which failed miserably as he failed to notice that the guitar was still connected to an amp. He suddenly feels eyes staring at him. He's shy by nature, this second person of ours. So instead of looking up, he acknowledges his audience of layman workers by singing. And they, in turn, drop what they were doing for a second to settle into chairs, light their cigarettes, and listen to his affirmation.
"Do me wrong, do me right
Tell me lies but hold me tight
Save your goodbyes for the morning light
But don't let me be lonely tonight"
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Unrequited Love (a meditation in five parts) Pt. 1
Disclaimer: This is a very personal story telling for me. Having been born with the gay gene, I tend to daydream in music video sequences. This story is influenced by the most poignant and personal times in my life. To understand the tale, one must be equipped with a good imagination to picture it all, an open heart to feel its message, and pair of ears to listen and absorb the lyrics. Let's begin...
The scene opens to a dimly lit lounge. Hushed murmuring fills the room along with the stench of expensive perfumes, cigars, and scotch. If one were to look around everything would seem black in color, shadowed, with the tables lit by a single tea light candle in blue glass holders casting insignificant glow. The faces of the patrons are barely seen, yet you can tell there's a mix of anxiety and excitement in the way they gesture and sit around.
We see a stage where the shadows of three musicians play around as they take to their positions. You can see them tuning their instruments, yet no sound can be heard. Finally, a fourth silhouette appears, one recognizable as the star of the evening by the reception of applause received. Our first person gives a nod of gratitude, and some would even say they saw his invisible mouth move as if to whisper thank you. He looks on and finds a familiar face among the crowd, transfixed. The spotlight slowly casted on him revealing him for the first time in a finely tailored pinstripe suit. The expression his face wore however was less than to be desired. It read of heartbreak as his mind reeled of memories past. As the music begins...
...it brings him back to the present. His gaze turns stoic as he grabs the old polished microphone and begins to sing.
"I used to visit all the very gay places
Those come what may places
Where one relaxes on the axis of the wheel of life
To get the feel of life...
From jazz and cocktails."
The scene opens to a dimly lit lounge. Hushed murmuring fills the room along with the stench of expensive perfumes, cigars, and scotch. If one were to look around everything would seem black in color, shadowed, with the tables lit by a single tea light candle in blue glass holders casting insignificant glow. The faces of the patrons are barely seen, yet you can tell there's a mix of anxiety and excitement in the way they gesture and sit around.
We see a stage where the shadows of three musicians play around as they take to their positions. You can see them tuning their instruments, yet no sound can be heard. Finally, a fourth silhouette appears, one recognizable as the star of the evening by the reception of applause received. Our first person gives a nod of gratitude, and some would even say they saw his invisible mouth move as if to whisper thank you. He looks on and finds a familiar face among the crowd, transfixed. The spotlight slowly casted on him revealing him for the first time in a finely tailored pinstripe suit. The expression his face wore however was less than to be desired. It read of heartbreak as his mind reeled of memories past. As the music begins...
...it brings him back to the present. His gaze turns stoic as he grabs the old polished microphone and begins to sing.
"I used to visit all the very gay places
Those come what may places
Where one relaxes on the axis of the wheel of life
To get the feel of life...
From jazz and cocktails."
The body beautiful...
is built with confidence!
Growing up in the Philippines, I was told that I was too dark, too short, or just plain ol' homely looking. This wasn't just from girls I would have crushes on back in school, but from family and relatives as well. You'd think such verbal bashing to the self-esteem would've scarred me, well I'm here to tell you, it did! -lol
I was growing into my teens very insecure about my physical state. I also had ginormous teeth when I was eleven so I was never at liberty to smile in photos if I could help it. It wasn't until high school that someone pointed out that I did in fact carry a wonderful smile accented by straight choppers that I began to change my mind about my facade. From that small compliment, I began to work on being comfortable with just being me.
At some point from then and now, I learned a lot about what makes one beautiful. Beauty, indeed, is in the eye of the beholder. When enough people genuinely tell you that you're handsome, at some point you will have to let go of your insecurities and start accepting the compliments with the confidence that "Hey, maybe I am." You look at yourself in the mirror and declare that you're a God among men with much conviction and you will in fact believe this! (but remember to keep it to yourself, no one likes a delusional ego maniac) I didn't let my childhood "put downs" get the better of me. We need to learn to better filter the things that are detrimental to our state of mind and push them right out of our systems. More importantly, we need to remind ourselves that the outer shell is nothing more than just that! It's not everything that makes us who we are. You can look your best in great threads, you can have the face of a movie star, but without a good personality and a good heart, it's nothing more than pretty wrapping paper concealing crap!
This blog was prompted by a blogger/designer who knows about taking better care of one's self and self image. A song to inspire would be this 1990 hit from the uber sexy Mr. George Michael. The title of the song added the number "90" so as to not be confused with a Wham song of the same name. It was a confessional song by George recognizing his fame and fortune during his days with Wham, and the fact that his views of the business he's in has changed to a more cynical and grown-up one. It also alluded to his struggles as a closeted gay man. The song was also the first step he took in breaking himself free of his contract with Sony Music. The video was moody, sentimental, and didn't feature George Michael himself but supermodels Naomi Campbell, Linda Evangelista, Christy Turlington, Tatjana Patitz, Cindy Crawford, Todo Segalla and Scott Benoit. Blowing up his iconic guitar, jukebox, and burning his jacket from his Faith era are further examples of Michael's efforts to cut ties with his past.
So do as I do when I hear it and rejoice the joy that is being you. Crank up the volume and dance around the room wearing nothing more than just the essentials: a good pair of underpants and a whole lot of bare skin! Let's all declare "Freedom! '90"
Growing up in the Philippines, I was told that I was too dark, too short, or just plain ol' homely looking. This wasn't just from girls I would have crushes on back in school, but from family and relatives as well. You'd think such verbal bashing to the self-esteem would've scarred me, well I'm here to tell you, it did! -lol
I was growing into my teens very insecure about my physical state. I also had ginormous teeth when I was eleven so I was never at liberty to smile in photos if I could help it. It wasn't until high school that someone pointed out that I did in fact carry a wonderful smile accented by straight choppers that I began to change my mind about my facade. From that small compliment, I began to work on being comfortable with just being me.
At some point from then and now, I learned a lot about what makes one beautiful. Beauty, indeed, is in the eye of the beholder. When enough people genuinely tell you that you're handsome, at some point you will have to let go of your insecurities and start accepting the compliments with the confidence that "Hey, maybe I am." You look at yourself in the mirror and declare that you're a God among men with much conviction and you will in fact believe this! (but remember to keep it to yourself, no one likes a delusional ego maniac) I didn't let my childhood "put downs" get the better of me. We need to learn to better filter the things that are detrimental to our state of mind and push them right out of our systems. More importantly, we need to remind ourselves that the outer shell is nothing more than just that! It's not everything that makes us who we are. You can look your best in great threads, you can have the face of a movie star, but without a good personality and a good heart, it's nothing more than pretty wrapping paper concealing crap!
This blog was prompted by a blogger/designer who knows about taking better care of one's self and self image. A song to inspire would be this 1990 hit from the uber sexy Mr. George Michael. The title of the song added the number "90" so as to not be confused with a Wham song of the same name. It was a confessional song by George recognizing his fame and fortune during his days with Wham, and the fact that his views of the business he's in has changed to a more cynical and grown-up one. It also alluded to his struggles as a closeted gay man. The song was also the first step he took in breaking himself free of his contract with Sony Music. The video was moody, sentimental, and didn't feature George Michael himself but supermodels Naomi Campbell, Linda Evangelista, Christy Turlington, Tatjana Patitz, Cindy Crawford, Todo Segalla and Scott Benoit. Blowing up his iconic guitar, jukebox, and burning his jacket from his Faith era are further examples of Michael's efforts to cut ties with his past.
So do as I do when I hear it and rejoice the joy that is being you. Crank up the volume and dance around the room wearing nothing more than just the essentials: a good pair of underpants and a whole lot of bare skin! Let's all declare "Freedom! '90"
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
With all the talks of politics...
and who deserves to be the Democratic nominee, I have become disenchanted with the whole lot! What with the media and press' constant embellishments and need to sensationalize everything for the sake of ratings, and not for the journalistic ideals we the people deserve. No one is an exception, not Fox, not CNN nor MSNBC. ('cept maybe Mr. Anderson Cooper for reasons which are clear to most)
Where was I, oh yes, patriotism! I looked around YouTube to be inspired again amidst this whole debacle, and found several renditions of our National Anthem.
*side track: some facts about the national anthem*
Our National Anthem was formulated from a poem written by a 35 year old lawyer named Francis Scott Key who witnessed the bombardment of Fort McHenry in Baltimore which lasted all through the night, and saw a torn and battle worn weary but still flying flag in "...the dawns early light". The music itself was based on a British drinking song "To Anacreon in Heaven" which was attributed to John Stafford Smith. A lot of singers would find that the song is very demanding with its long sustained notes and many peaks and valleys of range. The song often takes so much concentration on the vocal side, that most forget the lyrics, hence the need for pre-recording by even professionals in fear of such a disastrous event. A Jazzy version was performed by Jose Feliciano during the 1968 World Series at Tiger Stadium, which in fact was the first time artistic liberties were taken with the song. Marvin Gaye sang a soulful rendition during the 1983 NBA All-Star game a year before his death. Roseanne Barr generated a veritable firestorm of acidic criticism with her version in 1990, which wasn't the only time someone had to apologize for their bad performance or disrespect of the song. Steven Tyler had to as well when his ad lib at the 2001 race didn't bode well with the audience/spectators. He replaced "...home of the brave." with "...home of the Indianapolis 500." (trying to fit in all those syllables was a crime in itself, Steven)
In my exploration I found this beautiful version, crafted/arranged by the amazing Mr. David Foster, and sung by a phenomenal woman! The way this song was done was so justified that it deserves top shelf! It should be the standard! Not so much frills, sung in the way I believe it should be sung (with utmost respect to the original arrangement), without overt runs it was a delight to be heard. From the way it made my heart rate palpitate on overdrive and fill with pride, to the way the voice made goosebumps raise up on my arms easily enough to be mistaken for braille (and it would read "WOW!"). The sheer vocal talent of this singer help catapult this song to a pedestal it surely deserves (at least in my book). She sung it full voiced with no use of the head voice (also known as falsetto) for the high and critical notes, just with some good ol' belting, and the fact that it was sung live is a testament to the fact that some artists are good on record, and then there are those who just have it! And she definitely has it!
So, inspired to feel more patriotic and give my perspective of this presidential race a much needed jolt of enthusiasm, I present you David Foster's production of The "Star Spangled Banner" sung live at Super Bowl XXXIV by the wonderful Miss Faith Hill.
P.S. You thought I was going to say Whitney Houston, huh? Come on, admit it! For the most part it's overly praised and people just follow suit to what others think, lemmings come to mind when people comment on it! It was also pre-recorded and not live when it was performed at the Super Bowl. I love me some Whitney and her magnificent voice, but for me, Faith takes the gold.
Where was I, oh yes, patriotism! I looked around YouTube to be inspired again amidst this whole debacle, and found several renditions of our National Anthem.
*side track: some facts about the national anthem*
Our National Anthem was formulated from a poem written by a 35 year old lawyer named Francis Scott Key who witnessed the bombardment of Fort McHenry in Baltimore which lasted all through the night, and saw a torn and battle worn weary but still flying flag in "...the dawns early light". The music itself was based on a British drinking song "To Anacreon in Heaven" which was attributed to John Stafford Smith. A lot of singers would find that the song is very demanding with its long sustained notes and many peaks and valleys of range. The song often takes so much concentration on the vocal side, that most forget the lyrics, hence the need for pre-recording by even professionals in fear of such a disastrous event. A Jazzy version was performed by Jose Feliciano during the 1968 World Series at Tiger Stadium, which in fact was the first time artistic liberties were taken with the song. Marvin Gaye sang a soulful rendition during the 1983 NBA All-Star game a year before his death. Roseanne Barr generated a veritable firestorm of acidic criticism with her version in 1990, which wasn't the only time someone had to apologize for their bad performance or disrespect of the song. Steven Tyler had to as well when his ad lib at the 2001 race didn't bode well with the audience/spectators. He replaced "...home of the brave." with "...home of the Indianapolis 500." (trying to fit in all those syllables was a crime in itself, Steven)
In my exploration I found this beautiful version, crafted/arranged by the amazing Mr. David Foster, and sung by a phenomenal woman! The way this song was done was so justified that it deserves top shelf! It should be the standard! Not so much frills, sung in the way I believe it should be sung (with utmost respect to the original arrangement), without overt runs it was a delight to be heard. From the way it made my heart rate palpitate on overdrive and fill with pride, to the way the voice made goosebumps raise up on my arms easily enough to be mistaken for braille (and it would read "WOW!"). The sheer vocal talent of this singer help catapult this song to a pedestal it surely deserves (at least in my book). She sung it full voiced with no use of the head voice (also known as falsetto) for the high and critical notes, just with some good ol' belting, and the fact that it was sung live is a testament to the fact that some artists are good on record, and then there are those who just have it! And she definitely has it!
So, inspired to feel more patriotic and give my perspective of this presidential race a much needed jolt of enthusiasm, I present you David Foster's production of The "Star Spangled Banner" sung live at Super Bowl XXXIV by the wonderful Miss Faith Hill.
P.S. You thought I was going to say Whitney Houston, huh? Come on, admit it! For the most part it's overly praised and people just follow suit to what others think, lemmings come to mind when people comment on it! It was also pre-recorded and not live when it was performed at the Super Bowl. I love me some Whitney and her magnificent voice, but for me, Faith takes the gold.
Monday, May 19, 2008
I am so....
tired! Long weekend of nothing but sleeping in and boozing with the family. And now...it's back to work!
People would say that I'm crazy for loving Mondays. It's not that I like to schlep myself in traffic for an hour just to get to work, or the fact that I had to get up early to get to work (I'm always ahead of myself). I think of Mondays as a way to reset what's been done last week and start fresh! At least this is the most up-beat way I could look at it to beat the work day blues.
I do my usual routine of blowing my nose for a few minutes to relieve my poor sinuses of allergy induced snot (so not pretty), grab myself a cup o' joe, read my e-mails, read some blogs, and just before doing actual work...I read my bff's blog, then proceed to work on mine. I do all of this religiously!
Anyway, in honor of the dreaded Monday blues I picked a nice number released in 1986 by one of my all time favorite girl bands, The Bangles! It was their first hit, and it was written by Prince in 1984. He recorded this as a duet for his own album, but decided to pull it later. Two years pass, he tries to court Miss Susanna Hoffs (lead singer of the Bangles) and presents her with the song which they eventually record and become a no. 2 hit on the charts. (Behind Prince's "Kiss" of course).
The song is very simple, with a very catchy verse melody that strongly resembles one of Prince's song, "1999". It describes a girl waking up from a romantic dream only to find that it's Monday and so begins the process of having to drag herself through the work day.
So grab a cup, read your e-mails, and enjoy "Manic Monday"
People would say that I'm crazy for loving Mondays. It's not that I like to schlep myself in traffic for an hour just to get to work, or the fact that I had to get up early to get to work (I'm always ahead of myself). I think of Mondays as a way to reset what's been done last week and start fresh! At least this is the most up-beat way I could look at it to beat the work day blues.
I do my usual routine of blowing my nose for a few minutes to relieve my poor sinuses of allergy induced snot (so not pretty), grab myself a cup o' joe, read my e-mails, read some blogs, and just before doing actual work...I read my bff's blog, then proceed to work on mine. I do all of this religiously!
Anyway, in honor of the dreaded Monday blues I picked a nice number released in 1986 by one of my all time favorite girl bands, The Bangles! It was their first hit, and it was written by Prince in 1984. He recorded this as a duet for his own album, but decided to pull it later. Two years pass, he tries to court Miss Susanna Hoffs (lead singer of the Bangles) and presents her with the song which they eventually record and become a no. 2 hit on the charts. (Behind Prince's "Kiss" of course).
The song is very simple, with a very catchy verse melody that strongly resembles one of Prince's song, "1999". It describes a girl waking up from a romantic dream only to find that it's Monday and so begins the process of having to drag herself through the work day.
So grab a cup, read your e-mails, and enjoy "Manic Monday"
Thursday, May 15, 2008
In celebration...
of California Supreme Courts ruling over the issue of same-sex marriage, I offer this wonderful song that has been a gay anthem for most.
This was released back in 86 as Cyndi Lauper's first single to her second album of the same title. The song has become a legendary anthem for the gay community, as well as human rights in general. The song promotes love for one's self and confidence. The song was used as Miss Lauper's marquee for her concert tour in 2007 for the Human Rights Campaign promoting gay rights. Billy Steinberg (one of the song's composers) originally wrote True Colors about his own mother. Phil Collins covered the song, as well as a host of other artists.
In my opinion, marriage is an issue between you and your church, not the government's. I for one could care less about getting married, but I do have qualms about not being given the same rights that married couples get when it comes to me and my partner. Keep your marriage, but give us our rights. But that's my own opinion.
For your listening pleasure, I give you "True Colors"
This was released back in 86 as Cyndi Lauper's first single to her second album of the same title. The song has become a legendary anthem for the gay community, as well as human rights in general. The song promotes love for one's self and confidence. The song was used as Miss Lauper's marquee for her concert tour in 2007 for the Human Rights Campaign promoting gay rights. Billy Steinberg (one of the song's composers) originally wrote True Colors about his own mother. Phil Collins covered the song, as well as a host of other artists.
In my opinion, marriage is an issue between you and your church, not the government's. I for one could care less about getting married, but I do have qualms about not being given the same rights that married couples get when it comes to me and my partner. Keep your marriage, but give us our rights. But that's my own opinion.
For your listening pleasure, I give you "True Colors"
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Perhaps it'll remind you to pay attention...
the next time you initiate chat with me, Mr. Bise!;) Here's a song in dedication to the moment of cruelty, and perhaps a reminder for anyone to always pay attention when need to!
It's a Jim Croce hit classic back in 73, and most appropriate for such the moment. The song has also been covered by Miss Dolly Parton. It was even performed by this blog's subject (or victim, whichever way you view this) to which it was, and still is, greeted with cheer and much jubilation when performed.
Here's "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown"!
It's a Jim Croce hit classic back in 73, and most appropriate for such the moment. The song has also been covered by Miss Dolly Parton. It was even performed by this blog's subject (or victim, whichever way you view this) to which it was, and still is, greeted with cheer and much jubilation when performed.
Here's "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown"!
If I had the chance...
to talk to myself, it would pretty much be done the way this song goes.
I've heard several covers of this song, but none has the same sound of conviction in delivery as done by it's originator, Miss Annie Lennox. The song was her fist single from her debut album, Diva back in 92.
Annie said in an interview that the song was about her going solo. I would think it details the kind of conversation/debate/fight she had with her band mate/s. Who knows really.
At a time when my world was bleak and severely depressing, I listened to this song and imagined it as if there were two of me, and one was talking to the other in dialog. My disappointments, my fight with myself, my wanting to be the person I used to be and save myself from whatever destructive path I was taking my own self to.
Here's "Why".
I've heard several covers of this song, but none has the same sound of conviction in delivery as done by it's originator, Miss Annie Lennox. The song was her fist single from her debut album, Diva back in 92.
Annie said in an interview that the song was about her going solo. I would think it details the kind of conversation/debate/fight she had with her band mate/s. Who knows really.
At a time when my world was bleak and severely depressing, I listened to this song and imagined it as if there were two of me, and one was talking to the other in dialog. My disappointments, my fight with myself, my wanting to be the person I used to be and save myself from whatever destructive path I was taking my own self to.
Here's "Why".
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