Friday, December 30, 2005

100! 100! 100! 100! 100! 100! 100! 100! 100! 100!


HAPPY 100TH POST TO ME!!!!
I'd like to thank my 5 regular readers for inspiring me and coming back everyday! Woo hoo! 100!

Thursday, December 29, 2005

The Power of Orange Knickers HNT!



The Power of Orange Knickers is another one of those Tori Amos songs that you have to read over and over and over, and still you are not quite sure what the heck she is trying to say.....but I do know one thing. The schmata industry sure sold a lot of orange panties this year! I have to admit, I feel really empowered in my orange knickers. Tori must be on to something!
So, for this weeks HNT, here's my ample, and totally empowered orange knickered bottom.......Happy HNT everyone!
Pssst! Mr Ratburn believes in the power of orange knickers too!

The power of orange knickers
The power of orange knickers
under my petty coat
the power of listening to what
you don’t want me to know
Can somebody tell me now who is this terrorist
those girls that smile kindly then rip your life to pieces?
Can somebody tell me now am I alone with this
–this little pill in my hand and with this secret kiss
am I alone in this…
A matter of complication
when you become a twist
for their latest drink
as they’re transitioning
Can somebody tell me now who is this terrorist
this little pill in my hand that keeps the pain laughin’?
Can somebody tell me now a way out of this
–that sacred pipe of red stone could blow me out of this kiss
am I alone in this…
Shame shame time to leave me now
Shame shame you’ve had your fun
Shame shame for letting me think that I would be the one
Can somebody tell me now who is this terrorist
this little pill in my hand or this secret kiss

am I alone in this kiss
am I alone in this kiss

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Tori Tuesday

With the writing of songs for Scarlet's Walk, like Wampum Prayer and Indian Summer, Tori becomes in touch with her Cherokee Indian roots. There is no way that I can capture the beauty of this song without the music, but, i hope it will inspire you to seek out and listen to it.
This weeks Tori song, Indian Summer, is my way of wishing you all a wonderful new year, and that our planet may find peace. I couldnt have said it better than Tori has...peace...



Indian Summer
fresh mown grass
Girls in the attic
looking on them
Indian Summer
call me back
someone tell me there's another way
is it loud?
is it autumn that you're talking about?
is it what? is it lost on
what i'm talking about here...
is it just that
you just cant find a way out
find another way

Teach me how to pray
Indian Summer
through the year
on the medicine wheel
call me back
trap me in between
Somewhere west
Somewhere south
it seems these days anything west
Gets the blade
Gets wasted

is it right is it real
what you're talking about
Everything that i feel
you're talking about
Sometimes i don't know what
i'm hearing now
is there another way

There is another way
another way to pray
Girls take your hands
like you pray
all over the ground
then back on your body
Girls take your hands
like you pray
through the blades of grass
Gently, gently - gently

There is another way
Yes another way
Another way to pray

Indian Summer
fresh mown grass
Can you Mr. Bush light the sage
Can you anyone that's listening
find a way
it is clear, it is clear
that we need another way
another way to pray

Do you feel
Do you feel now
what I'm talking about
Everywhere that I look
No one's comin' out --
Out with it, What it is
they're feelin' now
There is another way

Another way to pray

Monday, December 26, 2005

Happy Monday!



Ummmm, Oaty? I think Santa brought that for Hannah's dolls to live in!?!!!























Growwlllll!!!!!! My tooth still hurts!

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Growllll!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Poor guy, and all it was was a toothache!

Friday, December 23, 2005

My Favorite Christmas Tale....



Originally a book written by Raymond Briggs, and made into an animated film without words, this tale of a little boy and an enchanted snowman will steal your heart!
A little boy rushes out into the wintry day to build a snowman, which comes alive in his dreams that night. Together they share a magical night of friendship, fun and flying!
The musical score, composed by Howard Blake, and performed by the Sinfonia of London, is beautiful! The artwork, is a delicious, snowy wintry treat. I promise, you will love it!
It's my families favorite Holiday film, we watch it every year, and when you see it, i'm sure you will understand why!
Happy Holidays everyone!

Have a Grinchy Christmas!



Mr. Grinch

You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch
You really are a heel,
You're as cuddly as a cactus,
you're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch,
You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel!
You're a monster, Mr. Grinch,
Your heart's an empty hole,
Your brain is full of spiders,
you have garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch,
I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole!
You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch,
You have termites in your smile,
You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch,
Given a choice between the two of you I'd take the seasick crocodile!
You're a rotter, Mr. Grinch,
You're the king of sinful sots,
Your heart's a dead tomato splotched with moldy purple spots, Mr. Grinch,
You're a three decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce!
You nauseate me, Mr. Grinch,
With a nauseous super "naus"!,
You're a crooked dirty jockey and you drive a crooked hoss, Mr. Grinch,
Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of rubbish imaginable mangled up in tangled up knots!
You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch,
You're a nasty wasty skunk,
Your heart is full of unwashed socks, your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Grinch,
The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote, "Stink, stank, stunk"!



Grinch Quiz

1. What is the name of Mr. Grinch's dog?
2. Where does the poem say that the Grinch lives?
3. Where do the WHO's live?
4. The Grinch hates all the what, what, what??
5. What does the Grinch take from the sleeping kids hands?
6. Why did the Grinch hate Christmas?
7. How did the Grinch "find" a reindeer?
8. Where did the Grinchy Claus stop first?
9. Explain the Grinch's awful idea.
10. What was the first thing to go on the Grinch's trip to Whoville?
11. What did the Grinch make his Santa suit out of?
12. Who was the Grinch caught by?
13. Grinch is a bad banana with a what?

14. What was the last thing that the Grinch took?
15. All he left on their walls was....
16. What did the Grinchy Claus tell the little girl who caught him taking the tree?
17. Why did the Grinch stand there puzzling and puzzling?
18. Explain what the Grinch realized on Christmas morning?
19. The Grinch carved the what?
20. How much did the Grinch's heart grow?

21. The Grinch even took the last can of what from the fridge?

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Happy Holidays HNT!

Yeah, I know what OS wants us to do, but, I'm just too damn rebellious to change this HNT that I had all planned out for this week. So, the comment whore in me will just have to be happy with the 5 readers comments that I normally get every day.
So here I am still goofing off in Las Vegas, with pockets full of Johhny Walker.....if you think i'm being naughty...Mr Ratburn ran off with the lady caroler and hid her somewhere in the hallway!
Happy HNT everyone, and Happy Holidays!




Fa la la la la la la la laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Weird Habits

Well, Hmnnnn. not sure I can tell you the weirdest ones, but......

1. I use my toes as fingers. This talent makes wearing shoes and socks a problem.

2. I prefer to sit on the floor. Couches are sooo uncomfortable!

3. Given my "unique" wardrobe, I would be a perfect candidate for the What Not To Wear show....

4. I always forget to wear a jacket, socks and closed toed shoes in the winter. My friends say that I "make them cold" by the way I dress.

5. I have strange eating habits such as Dr Pepper or Diet Coke for breakfast, then I forget to eat all day. At dinner time, I am starving, eat really fast, and stuff myself!

I don't like to tag people.....do it if you want to :X

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Book review!!!! Woo hoo!!



I've just finished reading Shantaram, an epic novel of over 900 pages. I totally dug it! The story, based on the true life experiences of the author, takes place mostly in Mumbai, Afganistan, and other parts of India, which appealed to me immediately. If you love adventure and excitement, you will love this book. It was written while the author was in prison, and then, after he gets out of prison, the book is published. He now tours promoting his book, lectures, writes poetry, and was also in a rock band. In addition, he has set up organizations and charities in Mumbai to help people living in slums and extreme poverty.

While living in Mumbai, the main character, Lin, lives in a chopadpatti for a long time, and because of his limited yet necessary medical experience, becomes the slums doctor. He later joins the Indian mafia, crosses the jagged mountains into Afghanistan, becomes involved in the Afghani/Russian war posing as an American, survives, comes back to Mumbai to return to the mafia.

After reading the book, check out,
www.shantaram.com to read about what Gregory David Roberts is up to now. What an incredible human being! (He was originaly imprisoned for robberies to obtain money for his heroin addiction, and never killed anyone, by the way!)

There are plans to make a film out of the book, due to be released in 2007. Johnny Depp is said to be starring in the film. Of this, I am not too pleased. While I think Depp is one hot man, I have a very difficult time envisioning him as the tough character, Lin, the hero in this story. They'd better not wreck it! :P

Below is a review that I found online, if you want to read more....


Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts

Shantaram is an epic story spanning more than a decade of life on the run, large in every way – over 900 pages, real not only because it was, but also by the gifted writer at the helm, who’s talent and awesome ability leap forth from the first page, and that promise of greatness holds through to the novel’s end. It is a masterpiece; intelligent, thrilling, romantic, philosophical, humorous and with elements of outright horror – Shantaram has it all!
When the story begins, Greg is now on the run, after breaking out of prison in Australia, where he was convicted of armed robbery while under the influence of drugs. His life on the run takes him from New Zealand to Bombay, India. Using an alias to enter Bombay, ‘Lindsay’ attaches himself to a group of tourists to pass customs and immediately is met by a young man -- the unforgettable Prabaker -- claiming to be Bombay’s best city guide. ‘Lindsay’ meets and befriends so many wonderfully engaging, vivid people that populate this story. He joins the Indian mafia and is enthralled with and loved by its leader, exploring the father/son and philosopher/student relationships pondering good and evil, man and God. And it is here too in Bombay that he falls in love Karla. The eloquent words of love and loss Greg writes as he learns of life and who and what kind of man he is, and struggles to become, while he manages to survive on the run, are exciting mesmerizing and enthralling: a story to read and savor!
Shantaram is a thriller of the highest order: a love story that is profound and penetrating, cut bloody with truths, and seen through the eyes of a poet, philosopher, gangster, smuggler and a man on the run.

Saturday, December 17, 2005

AGRA, DECEMBER 2004


Ok, you wanted more! I took this picture in Uttar Pradesh, India, on the way to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. The gentleman is dressed in traditional folk attire, and sheesh, it is NOT a dress! (eye rolling) He is playing an Indian instrument called a Sarangi. (soo rang hee). He stands outside of places where a lot of tourists frequent, and plays music for rupees. Sarangi means a hundred colors, which might explain the matching costume! I just thought he was too cool! It took me awhile, but, I finally got a smile out of him! BTW, check out that mustache!!! If you want to know more about the sarangi, read on.



The Sarangi is the premier bowed instrument of North Indian music, it began to become popular in the mid-17th century to accompany vocal music. It still retains this vital role today but is largely surplanted by the harmonium.
The Sarangi consists of squat, truncated body. Like the Sarode it has a sound board of goat skin. It has three main playing strings of heavy gut. These are the ones which are bowed. It also has an addition 30-40 metal smypathic strings, which give the instrument it characteristic sound.
Unlike the violin, in which the strings are pressed down on a fingerboard,the playing strings of the sarangi are stopped with fingernails of the left hand.
Its name is widely believed to mean "a hundred colours" indicating its adaptability to a wide range of musical styles, its flexible tunability, and its ability to produce a large pallette of tonal colour and emotional nuance. The sarangi is revered for its uncanny capacity to imitate the timbre and inflections of the human voice as well as for the intensity of emotional expression to which it lends itself. In the words of Sir Yehudi Menuhin: "The sarangi remains not only the authentic and original Indian bowed stringed instrument but the one which... expresses the very soul of Indian feeling and thought."
Coming from a large family of folk fiddles, the sarangi entered the world of Hindustani art music during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries as the preferred melodic accompaniment for songstress-courtesans. It appears to have been the most popular North Indian instrument during the nineteenth century at at a time when sitar and sarod were relatively rare as well as relatively primitive not having yet benefited from technical improvements made during the twentieth century. So plentiful were sarangi players that paintings and photos of singing and dancing girls usually depict a sarangi player on each side of the singer.
The classical sarangi is carved out of a single piece of hardwood, usually
tun (sometimes called Indian cedar) and is between 64 and 67 centimeters in length. It. It has three melody strings which are usually made of gut and around thirty-five metal sympathetic strings which provide a bright echo. The strings pass over and through an elephant-shaped bridge usually made of bone or ivory. This rests on a leather strap which protects the instrument's goatskin face. The bow, held with an underhand grip, is usually made of rosewood or ebony and is considerably heavier than Western violin or cello bows, contributing to the solidity and vocal quality of the sarangi's sound. Most players play instruments between fifty and a hundred years old, often inherired from their elders. The instrument's tone and playability are largely determined by its setting up: the placement of and contouring of the bridges, the thicknes height of the strings, and the fitting of the pegs. These complex skills require a lot of experience. Traditionally they have been passed, like the music, from father, grandfather or uncle to the children of sarangi families. But due to both the quickening pace of life and inertia and demoralisation on the part of sarangi players, these skills are gradually being lost.
The sarangi's three melody strings are stopped not with the pads of the fingers but with the cuticles or the upper nails or the skin above the nails of the left hand. The Cretan lyra and Bulgarian gadulka are also played with the sides of the finger nails, but to my knowledge there is no other instrument on which the strings are stopped with so high a portion of the back of the finger. Practice often leads to prodigious callousing as well as to telltale grooves in the fingernails. The difficulty of sarangi technique is legendary.

The nineteenth century sarangi was a smaller and less standardised instrument, and it is possible that the unwieldly complexity of the modern instrument has contributed to its decline as an accompaniment instrument, and to solo sarangi's relatively low profile on the modern concert stage. But the sarangi's decline has been largely precipitated by social forces. Although sarangi players and tabla players were equally important in the ensembles of singing and dancing girls, the tabla have to a great extent outgrown the stigma of association with prostitution partially because of its enhanced role and more glamorous status in the accompaniment of sitar and sarod. In the popular imagination the sarangi remains linked to the world of courtesans. And that world has ceased to exist. It first came under attack with the British export of Victorian moral attitudes which were enthusiastically embraced by the swelling middle classes. The erosion of the funds of the nobility, the courtesans' patrons, was begun under British rule and completed by the democratisation of Indian society at the time of Independence in 1947. Government legislation has consolidated the demise of the songstress tradition, a tradition which was central to the evolution and preservation of art music. Tawaifs still exist in the cities of North India, but usually they perform film songs for clients of meager refinement. With the end of what was once a lucrative market for sarangi playing, the prospects for sarangi players became bleak except for those who were talented or lucky enough to become employed by All India Radio. And as the pace of life quickened, sarangi players had less and less reason to devote their lives to practice the way that their forefathers had and as appears to be necessary for anyone who wants to attain and maintain control over a sarangi.
The innocuous harmonium has largely replaced the sarangi as the preferred accompaniment to vocal music. Although its tempered tones are categorically out of tune for Indian music, they are, sadly, more in tune than the notes of a less than expert or out-of-practice sarangi player. Generally vocalists shy away from the possible competition of sarangi players. And indeed, sarangi players do sometimes overplay or steal the limelight, often, sometimes justifiably, considering themselves to be of more substantial musical pedigree than the singers they accompany. Their low social status is often at the root of unjustifiably low musical status, more so nowadays as a large percentage of performing vocalists, especially in Maharashtra, come from the educated middle classes and no longer from families of hereditary musicians.
Musical aesthetics have changed during the twentieth century. The use of microphones and the proliferation of recorded music has increased the accessibility and public appreciation of sweet quiet singing. Along with technical improvements in the sitar and sarod, this has contributed to the standardisation of intonation and to a high premium being placed on slick clean music which, to quote D.C. Vedi, "does not disturb". The sarangi fits poorly into this context. It is a survivor from a time when music spoke more directly to people and music's emotion and formal brilliance were valued more highly than its slickness and technical perfection. The modern concert-going public is largely motivated by questions of status: music reminds them of the good old days or, for the nouveau riche, it confirms their newfound position as consumers of culture. This is an exercise which should be accomplished pleasantly and comfortably. There is no longer a high premium placed on being profoundly moved by music; bursting into tears would be quite out of place in the comfortable armchairs of a Delhi auditorium. And sarangi is the quintessentially emotional Indian instrument, a favourite with film-makers for tragic scenes: a baby bitten by a scorpion; Gandhi-ji's assassination; unrequited love.
The situation of sarangi players is a vicious circle. Lack of recognition has eroded their self respect, bringing about a decline in the dedication with which the tradition is sustained through practice and teaching, and inevitably a decline in musical excellence. I have met many excellent players who, being depressed about their poor economic prospects, have become unmotivated with regard to the tuning and maintenance of their instruments. This compounds the dimness of their prospects of employment as well as inviting criticism from vocalists and from the musical public, which further erodes self-respect.
When I first met sarangi players in 1970, a large proportion of hereditary sarangi players were no longer teaching their sons. Disillusioned by the economic prospects offered by sarangi playing, many were sending their sons to school and on to commercial colleges. In the last ten years this trend has been somewhat reversed. The sarangi has received more interest. Of particular importance was the Sarangi Mela held in Bhopal in 1989 where sarangi players were reminded of the importance of their tradition. A resurgence of interest is attested by the phenomenon of great sarangi players such as Ustad Abdul Latif Khan and Ustad Ghulam Sabir Qadri who did not teach their sons - now teaching their grandsons. It is heartening to see that a large number of players are now teaching their sons. Musical enculturation - how children grow into music in sarangi families - is an important aspect of my current research.
Sarangi music is vocal music. It is quite impossible to find a sarangi player who does not know the words of many classical songs. The words are usually mentally present during performance, and performance almost always adheres to the conventions of vocal performance including the organisational structure, the types of elaboration, the tempo, the relationship between sound and silence, and the presentation of khyal and thumri compositions. The vocal quality of sarangi is in a quite separate category from, for instance, the so-called gayaki-ang of sitar which attempts to imitate the nuances of khyal while overall conforming to the structures and usually keeping to the gat compositions of instrumental music. Most sarangi players learn to sing before they begin to play.
Sarangi players sing with their fingers. Rather than as an appendage to or as a shadow of vocal music, sarangi must be viewed as a semi-independent tradition of vocal music, still respected at the end of the nineteenth century, which has fallen drastically in prestige largely as a result of social factors.The sarangi tradition is integral to the vocal tradition, and has sustained and nourished it. Prejudices against sarangi players are usually defended on grounds of the shortcomings in their grasp of and capacity to reproduce vocal music; to my mind, this is a convenient way of side-stepping the social basis of prejudice. If sarangi players were all poorly grounded in vocal music, it would not be possible, as is the case, that a large number of the most famous male singers of the twentieth century have come from sarangi families or been sarangi players themselves. These have included: Abdul Wahid Khan, Abdul Karim Khan, Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, Amir Khan, Niaz Ahmed and Fayaz Ahmed Khan and Rajan and Sajan Mishra. The Kirana and Patiala Gharanas, important vocal traditions, owe their heritage largely to sarangi playing. Before the latter half of this century, most of the great female singers came from the courtesan tradition, and many of them were taught by sarangi players. Nowadays many respected sarangi players owe some or all of their livelihoods to the teaching of vocal music.


Have a great weekend everybody!





Friday, December 16, 2005

STUFF PORTRAIT FRIDAY


C'mon, let's see your stuff!



Something red.



Somethings green.



Something you decorate.

Thursday, December 15, 2005


HAPPY HNT FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY........



OOOPSSSS!!! When I put these jeans on in the morning, there was just a little worn out spot under the pocket. But, everytime I bent over, I felt them tearing little by little until I had an HNT photo for you! Happy HNT, from the bottom of my....um, bottom!!!!!

My oh my, go check out Mr Ratburns Christmas balls!

And, while you're at it...go see what's happening at our new group blog.....




Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Dont forget to Laugh!

































































Im sure we've all felt like this a few times in our lives!

A Woman goes to the Post Office, to buy Stamps for her Christmas Cards. She says to the clerk, “May I have 50 Christmas stamps.” The Clerk says,“What denominations?” The woman says, “God help us, has it come to this?Give me 6 Catholic, 12 Baptist, 10 Mormon and 22 Presbyterian.”

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Hurray for TORI TUESDAY!



This week, for Tori Tuesday, I lifted this review of Tori's latest release, The Beekeeper. While it isn't one of my favorites, it does have some gems on it like, Parasol, Sweet the Sting, Barons of Suburbia, Mother Revolution, Ribbons Undone...HEYYYY, wait a minute! You know what? It's not such a bad release afterall. It's a step away from Tori's rocking days of Boys for Pele, but it's still a masterpiece. Check it out!




Pieces of Tori
BY ANTHONY BALDMAN
It’s been over two years since Tori Amos has released an album of new material, but with her latest release The Beekeeper (released on Epic/Sony Feb. 22), Amos delivers intimate fables soaring with elegance and complexity. The 19-track disc, nearly 80 minutes in length, is her ninth album spanning a career which took off in the early ‘90’s with her critically acclaimed multi-platinum release Little Earthquakes (Atlantic 1992). Amos produced the new album herself and recorded it in her U.K. studio Martian Engineering with drummer Matt Chamberlain and bassist Jon Evans, a duo she has been recording and performing with since 1998.
As a companion piece to The Beekeeper, family bloodlines are one of a several issues explored in her new book Tori Amos: Piece by Piece (Broadway Books), which hit the stands on Feb. 8. Amos teamed with acclaimed music journalist Ann Powers to present a fascinating portrayal of her life in and out of the spotlight. The book captures closer glimpses into her personal life as a wife and mother, her art of live performance, the origins of her songwriting process, touring the world and Amos’ strict religious upbringing.
Piece by Piece is a must read for fans who want to dive deeper into Amos’ mind and the historical events that shaped her to be the gifted musician she is today. This is not a traditional biography of a musician, but rather a reference tool fans can use to guide themselves though the complex mind of Amos and the music she creates.
Each of the eight chapters tackles different aspects of Amos’ history and modern day life. Detailed accounts of her childhood experiences bring the reader closer. Interesting personal anecdotes, some referencing unfinished and never-released material Amos has written intrigue the reader even further. In the 25 “song canvass” sections, Amos explains most songs on The Beekeeper and some relevant tracks from older albums.
Amos’ grandmother on her father’s side, who she called “The Puritanical” and “The Shame Inducer”, was a catalyst for much of her self-righteousness and outspokenness. She knew from a very early age she was not going to be the traditional minister’s daughter who obeyed authority figures. Amos writes, “At five I knew I was at war with my grandmother.”
This divisiveness in Amos’ soul has greatly influenced her songwriting, personality and musical maturity over the years. Always obscure, her lyrics are often interpreted differently and rarely completely understood. Songs have become more and more complex over the years and are filled with a multitude of Biblical and historical references. The Beekeeper is no different in that aspect.
On the new album, Amos incorporates a vintage B3 Hammond organ to the mix in addition to her usual Bosendorfer piano. Using the organ was a departure from much of her older material.
“The Beekeeper is musically inspired by the fact that the piano has realized that she has an organ – with my right hand on her organ and my left hand on her piano keys, I have been changed by the relationship between these two beautiful creatures, the Bosendorfer piano and the B3 Hammond organ,” Amos said in a Sony press release.
As with all of her albums, Amos creates an overall theme. The Beekeeper’s songs all relate to or pollinate one another in some aspect, segmented into six distinct gardens – the rock garden, desert garden, the orchard, roses and thorns, the greenhouse and elixirs and herbs. Amos says in Piece by Piece that the songs are “independent but connected to each other, no different than the structure of hexagonal cells that make up the beehive.”
Amos takes a funky live-band sound and melds it to her intimate vocals and precise piano pounding. Some tracks feature Afro-Cuban drums while the London Community Gospel Choir contributes soulful backing vocals to four songs on the album, including “Witness” the most striking departure from Amos’ usual musical style.
Amos makes complete use of her Hammond organ on “Witness” adding to its sheer Southern gospel feel. As with many of her songs, Amos mixes things up a bit. During the bridge, four minutes into the six-minute song, she switches from the organ to piano, changing the melody completely, singing desperately, “Is there a way? Is there any way forward?” This is a song about betrayal and Amos attempts to get through this emotion and move on.
Amos’ music has always been as non-commercial as you can get, with most radio stations not playing her music at all or opting to play one track if fans are so lucky. Don’t expect any chart-topping hits from The Beekeeper, but you may just hear “Cars and Guitars” hit the airwaves in the coming months. It’s perfect for a commercial release, with catchy guitar hooks and overall melody, as well as amusing lyrics such as, “you start me up again” and “restring my wires y’know”. Piece by Piece explains the character in this song is a mother who is fed up with her daily responsibilities, pondering whether she should just “keep on drivin’” during the chorus’ repeating refrain.
There are many traditional Amos sounds combining intricate piano with angelic, breathy vocal harmonies. “Barons of Suburbia” is a fast tempo, chaotic ride with some great vocal improvisation at the very end. Many fans only get to experience this type of performance live in concert, but Amos finally captures it on a studio track. Amos adds to the song’s complexity by playing the organ and piano simultaneously throughout.
“Original Sinsuality” is a standout track, the barest and shortest song on the album with just piano and vocals. It haunts you, referencing the fruit of the tree in the Garden of Eden as a taste of knowledge and sensuality rather than sin. It’s almost a shame it’s only two minutes long. Its starkness really brings you back to Amos’ early days.
The soft drumming combined with an upbeat piano against soft guitar on “Martha’s Foolish Ginger” also is reminiscent of an older Amos era with a fresh, innocent sound. She sings about two lovers on a boat named for the track’s title. In Piece by Piece, Amos explains she had started to write the song years ago, but she had not been able to finish it until recently when she was in San Francisco Bay on the water.

Saturday, December 10, 2005

ME ME MONDAY

IT'S ALL ABOUT ME, SO DEAL WITH IT!

I live in an apple orchard.



For you city folks, this is what an apple blossom looks like.



Yummmm, these guys are ready to eat!



The orchard constantly changes with the seasons.



The orchard is a great place to play!



Have a great week, everybody!

Friday, December 09, 2005

Well! I Never!!!!!!




Sheesh, I just came from Santa Rosa, and I just about got lynched by some huge man in an even larger SUV, because I, well, I know, I know, it was my fault, but honest, I didnt see him! After the highway crime, he actually followed me into the parking lot, and pulled up next to me and started yelling at me! Sheesh! I'm trying to apologize to him, but noooooo! He's telling me I'm incredibly selfish and how I think the road is JUST for ME, and how rude I am to have cut him off....Im like...."I'm............ I'm............ I'm" Ya know, trying to apologize..but he just won't shut up! So finally I just yelled at him, "Oh man, get over it!" and went into the shoe store! Sheesh, what a jerk!
Then, I'm at a light, it's red. I'm looking around at stuff.....la la la! Then all of a sudden, "BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPP!!!" from behind me. Dang man, the light was green for all of two seconds before this aural assault! To hell with this shit, i'm going home to my orchard where people are nice!

Thursday, December 08, 2005



HAPPY HNT LAS VEGAS STYLE!



Go here for Mr Ratburn's Las Vegas HNT!

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Joke Wednesday......

DONT FORGET TO LAUGH TODAY!