Celebrity Crush

Real Simple October 2018

Having started celebrity fascinations at the tender age of, I am guessing, 13, all that is presented in this article to defend this particular affliction makes sense to me.

1. "It's a breather from the real world:" ain't that the truth. I currently work in a county building and when I am not teaching, I am expected to sit in a dark, dirty, possibly vermin infested back room to collaborate with my colleagues, whom I am not particularly interested in collaborated with as my experience and educational philosophies differ from theirs enormously ... actually, my ideas about anything, for the most part, sets me apart from them. Plus, some aren't particularly forthcoming, so, as I breathe in the stale air and hope that I don't catch anything from any of the surfaces, I read People.com. I am not much of an Internet surfer, but for this site, I would be a little embarrassed if any checked how many times a day I take a look to see if anything new has come up in the day. Maybe the Princess, any number of them, has visited a school or hospital. What were they wearing? How did the people react? It is diverting. And in the end, I know way too much about what is going on with William and Kate, but that's okay. It's a brain break ... and I need a lot of those at my current place of employment.

2. "It can encourage you to help others:" this is certainly true for me. Bono, alone, encouraged me to do something in the world. I think that I possess that gene already, but were it not for him, I wouldn't have done Habitat for Humanity builds in Chile and Botswana. When I dragged my butt through 26.2 miles of a marathon, I did it to raise money for the AIDS Foundation of Chicago. In many small ways, I have often considered, what would Bono do? I'm teased endlessly for my love of him as it is misunderstood. For me, he is the rock star, yes- but he is also a point of light for me to believe in and he makes me want to be a part of building things up, not tearing them down. I am fully aware that he is human and imperfect as some like to remind me of occasionally, but I am too. And that's okay.

3. "It emboldens you to live your dream:" a few years ago, I saw the David Bowie exhibit at Chicago's Museum of Contemporary Art. Not knowing quite what to expect, I was blown away by it. I could've spent hours more in what was, to me, a visit into Bowie's creative mind. Aside from the fashion display and all of its Alexander McQueen wonderfulness, I was most impressed in the area that was devoted to Bowie's Berlin years. One of the exhibition pieces was a machine that Bowie would use to spark lyric ideas. Randomness can spark creativity. And that set me off to thinking. Recently, I've been immersed in Steve Perry's story- the Journey front man who walked away from it all and didn't sing for 20 years. To hear him talk about it is fascinating. I loved Steve Perry more than life itself during high school. I broke up with him in college for New Wave, but he's back, and I can see what I saw in him then and am glad that he's arrived to the now with a story that I understand about talent and creativity. I don't know if these stories help my dream as much as I see the struggle that they face in their creative lives, identify with it and feel encouraged to continue, in my own small way, my own creative pursuits.

4. "It can make you feel connected:" in the summer following sixth grade, I spent every day with the older girl a couple doors down. She had a good stereo and led me away from David Cassidy and introduced me to the Beatles, Led Zeppelin, The Who, among others. The Beatles, in particular, grabbed a hold of me deep. The first album that I bought with my own money was 'Abbey Road.'  We spend hours listening to her vinyl collection, and I clearly remember feeling my whole being opening up to receive all of the ideas and sounds that came in listening to the music. Going into seventh grade without my new friend who was in high school, I faced two lonely years of not fitting in and general awkwardness ... like most I imagine.  But I had the music. And I lived a full life whenever I listened to it or, even, thought about it. I started my subscription to Rolling Stone at that time. I don't even know if I was aware or savvy enough to fully comprehend everything that I read, but I felt that I was a part of the community, a part of something.

5. "It can help you pick up great style tips:" continuing on with my 13 year old self. I was such a dork, but the love that I had for the bands that I was listening to was so real. I didn't have a lot of clothes at that time and some of my pants, my mother had sewn me. I had one pair of light blue, elephant pant styled cotton pants that she had sewn for me that I took an embroidery needle to and embroidered the names of my favorite bands on the legs of the pants. I didn't quite pick up that style, but I was inspired and began to develop my own sense of it. I did have feathered hair like some of  my favorites, David Cassidy especially, but I'm not so sure that is how it went down. When Madonna came on the scene, I certainly went to the men's department and bought boxer shorts to wear as clothing. Thankfully, I don't have pictures of that! I can't even imagine. Since so much of fascination involves musicians, not actors, I don't know if I picked up style tips from them or their sound crated an impression which led me to create a style.  But I get this.

Luxury Linens

Victoria Magazine September 2018

I am sitting at my old desk, in its new place, waiting for Angel to arrive to repair the drywall in the ceiling of the room that I intend to arrange just as you see in the photograph. 

I have embarked on a new adventure ... having lived in the city, alone ... well, except for the couple of years that I lived with my sister, I have moved out to the suburbs to live with Mamasita, my mom. It is time to keep an eye on her and this is just of the ways of doing so in coordination with my other sister, who lives nearby. 

When considering the move, I thought to myself, as one would, I need to buy new bedding. And I want luxurious, soft, comforting, entangling things so as to create an oasis of calm for moments when I can be quiet and pretend that I still live alone in the old apartment on a somewhat quiet street in the thick of it all. The comforter that I had been using was nearly 30 years old. Thirty years old, you may wonder. In a former life, when I worked at Marshall Field's and at the beginning of the Super Sunday era. Traditionally, the store on State Street was closed on Sundays and opened late, until 7 p.m., twice a week. When the doors opened on Sunday, the sales were phenomenal and the crowds were insane. When this started, I managed several home store departments. I would place sale merchandise on tables down the aisles and some customers would come by and buy everything on the table. We would clear out our stockrooms not so much with merchandise that was damaged or poor sellers, but one of a kinds and often luxury goods ... in the beginning. It was on one of these early Sundays when I found my first luxury comforter set. It was from an Australian vendor that the department didn't stock ... sometimes buyers, who still worked in the building, would sell off samples on Super Sunday. As the years went on, the comforter became softer and finer than when I first put it on my bed. I was tempted many times to replace it because it was so old and a few times, a duvet covered it. But I created a story for it ... a great textile in a great house would lie on a bed for a century. What would possess me to replace this one. Of course, in reality, mine was just an old bedspread in a worn vintage apartment in an American city, not a great estate in the Cotswolds.

Sadly, Marshall Field's is gone. But I committed myself to finding the most luxurious bedding that money could buy, which, I might add, is no easy feat in the age of Amazon. But I found it ... in reality, I found layers of it ... sheets, blanket, pillows ... even a new mattress pad. And in going to paint, to layer the look even more, I found where the roof leak snuck in ... my bedroom ceiling. And so in warped speed, I have been quickly brought up to speed of what it means to be a homeowner. I'm not sure about it, but I've no other choice. It is insane how complicated it is to find someone to do the work. Angel came to me via a family connection. He's in there now cutting out the drywall and doing what he does. My linens, I imagine, are peeking out of their bags around the corner wondering if they are every going to get out of their plastic and on to the mattress. 

Soon, luxury, soon.

Serena Williams ... again

People Magazine

Serena is bringing me back to tennis. As a kid, I did have the chance to take tennis lessons with the park district. I was lucky enough to have a great coach, who really taught me the game. I can remember when I was beginning to be successful that I started to watch tennis on television. Born into a sports loving family, I was encouraged to watch ... and play. I bothered my mom to no end to help me out in buying a Chris Evert tennis racket. Ooooh, I wanted that racket. I can't even remember what kind of racket that I was playing with before I put my hands on that racket. It was probably bought at the local Value Village and was made of tin and fishing line. I know that my play elevated as soon as I put my hand around a grip that was sized for my hand. And I played with it through junior high and high school when I played for the school team. I brought it to college and took tennis as my PE requirement. And then, I sort of lost track of it.

I picked up a racket again many years later and graduated to a titanium delight that weighs nearly nothing and allows me to block the power shots that my niece drives at me across the net. She's a power house and were it not for the tennis elbow that plagues me, I would continue to play more than during our asphalt pick up games when she's in town. Perhaps because I have gotten the racket back in my hand, I have kept an eye on what is going on in professional tennis. In the past, I watched mostly men's tennis ... Bjorn Borg, Jimmy Connors, Ilie Nastase ... all of the old guys. I wanted the Evert  racket, but I watched the boyfriend (Jimmy Connors).

Well, we've come a long way baby. And little girls know that they need to take the gaze off of the men and find power in their own sex. And I'm reminded of this as I am fascinated by Serena Williams', not Roger Federer's, play. And with that, I have to wonder why tennis hasn't kept up with the movement that has picked me up. Becoming a mother aside, Serena has locked heads with the old tennis guard with what she wears to play. Wearing a compression catsuit to protect against blood clots, the French Tennis Federation President, Bernard Giudicelli, banned her from wearing them. He said that her appearance must "respect the game." I don't have much to say about that idiotic statement and belief, especially as athletes across the seasons have gone to more streamlined uniforms to enhance their performance. But Serena?  Girl, she figured it out. And what she did is pure sport.

For the 2018 US Open, Serena worked with Louis Vuitton's Virgil Abloh and Nike to give the French guy what he wants ... a tutu. In her first appearance at the tournament, she wore black. She came out of the tunnel in a leather coat and compression fish net stockings. Her shoes were bedazzled. And for each match she has twirled her way on to the court ... actually, she twirls at the end of winning each match so far ... but she arrives with her game face on and a fabulous defense, actually offensive, against the outdated, misogynistic malarkey that, apparently, tennis officials still hold dear.

They need to watch it ... cause girls run the world, and Serena is likely going to run them out of town ... or out to pasture, where they belong.

Rolling Stone Reimagined

Rolling Stone August 2018

'Rolling Stone' reimagined? Hm.

I picked up a Rolling Stone Magazine years ago after having not read it in twice as many more. It supplied, maybe, hours of relief on a long flight somewhere in the world. Once home, I immediately added it to the list of magazines that stuff my mail box every month.

One of the things that I always liked about the magazine was that it was a manageable, newspaper-like without the ink on my hands, periodical. I didn't have to read it like a book- the pages easily folded back so that I could read one page at a time. If needed, I could also fold it in half lengthwise to fit into a pocket. And all of this ease of use came with color and content.

Now ... what have they done with this reimagining? Made it harder to read, that's what I think. The cover and pages are stiff and the pages are larger, so I had to read it sitting down and on my pillow that I put on my lap for magazine reading ... especially when the magazines are like books. It will not easily travel with me that I am sure of. And in its bigness, the content looks smaller, and if you can see from the scan, mean, skinny lines, a stark contrast to the big, enclose content that I am meant to look at. I don't like it. And I found that I spent less time with it than I normally would have given the stiffness ... and since I can't fold it and put it in my pocket, it's off to the recycle.

Touched by Ghoul

www.touchedbyghoul .  photo by Poorie Koleyni

A Chicago band, Touched by Ghoul, opened for the Foo Fighters at Wrigley Field this week. They did a short set with another opening band playing after them. Oh, but what a set it was. Angela Mullenhour, the singer, came out with her big guitar, heidi braid, and Kate Spade-ish summer dress, opened her mouth- wide, and pulled the early evening crowd into the band's jam.

Song, song, song, little repartee, song. The band (Mullenhour, Andrea Bauer, Alex Shumard, and PaigeSandlin) played fast, tight, and pulled together. The sound of them blew me away. As it happens and with my poor hearing, I don't always capture song lyrics, but I get the sound. The urgency of the music and the humor that Mullenhour presented the lyrics brought me right into the songs in the first listen. Now as I'm listening to them on YouTube, I already feel like they are old friends. If I had to describe their style, I would say that they are punk. But they are fresh and more modern that what would've gone as punk in the past. But when the songs end ... on a dime ... on a pin ... however you say it, it's punk. And when they left the stage, I was sad that they didn't play more, especially when the Breeders came out with an incoherent, disjointed performance.

I give it to the Foo Fighters for highlighting a local band. I'm disappointed that when I look them up for future Chicago appearances, any appearances, they don't seem to be playing anywhere. That's too bad. I think that they underestimated their own power to pull in Foo Fighter fans, who probably aren't as likely to go punk.

I am enthralled.

U2 2018 Experience + Innocence Tour

Rolling Stone October 5, 2017

I seemed to have lost track of the more recent article that had a review of the current tour: U2 2018 Experience + Innocence Tour, which had Adam Clayton saying that if fans wanted to hear the old stuff, they should have gone to the "Joshua Tree" 30-year anniversary tour, which went around last year. In this new show, the new songs were on the menu with none of the songs from that album.

I attended both nights in Chicago for both shows- old and new. And as great as it was to hear "Joshua Tree" played in the album's order at Soldier Field on two lovely Chicago summer evening, I have to say that the show that reminded me of what U2 is all about was the more recent one.

Naturally, I was well rehearsed in the new material as I had it on repeat in heavy rotation to learn every song. I have probably listened to album in its entirety a hundred times ... easily. And two months after I saw it performed live, I'm still listening to it. I find their songs, like good poetry or fiction, is so layered that it takes many listens to get through them all. A song that seems so basic and straightforward, on its 20th listen, becomes something else. That's always the case for me with this band. I remember the first time that I heard "Who'd Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses" from "Achtung Baby" I giggled. And my sister and I would shout out the chorus in a sort of comedy show, but ... on examination and after many listens, my tune has changed on that song. Some times that I am so excited for new music from a band that when I first hear it, I don't really hear it. I am overwhelmed with giddy excitement, which drowns out the intended meaning of what the song will become for me.

In this articles, RS  writer Andy Greene reports that Edge said: "We need to make sure that we are part of a current conversation in music culture in terms of production and songwriting, melodic structure ... we don't want to be perceived as - and we don't want to sound like - a veteran act out of touch with where the culture is ... it's a balance." I understand that RS is biased when it comes to U2 ... what are they ever going to say something bad about U2? But from the horse's mouth, the Edge, I think that I can confirm that what he's talking about is at the heart of why U2 continues to make relevant music thirty years into it. So many bands by this time have moved into a comfortable groove of what they know best, but that isn't how U2 rolls. I remember once hearing Bono say that he is as uncomfortable as comfortable being in a revival tent. Sure, this is out of context, but that he is okay with being uncomfortable tells us where his head is at. The band's life seems to be born from the uncomfortable and that has let them continue to evolve as a band. You can count on them for their 'wall of sound,' but it is their adventurous drive to grow still that sets them apart from the rest ... and in my wholly biased opinion, I do mean the rest.

And they have come and gone through my town. I was lucky enough to see them perform both nights. The experience is a blur ... it seemed to have happened so fast, and I sort of want another chance to see the show. Twice wasn't enough to get over the giggles from the excitement of seeing them on stage and get down to the business of peeling through the layers. God, I'd make a horrible critic. I could not watch just once to find the heart of it all.