The Fat Lady Sings

Terms of Service

I've posted this before.  It seemed relevant considering the day.

We owe our troops so very much.  Sometimes I wonder if it can ever be enough. 

When I was a little girl (in the early 1960's) there was a man from our neighborhood who spent all his time sitting on benches - usually waiting for busses he never seemed to get on.  He wore shabby clothes and blinked quite a lot.  Most of the children were afraid of him.  We were told he was suffering from something called 'shell shock' - though no one bothered to explain exactly what that was.  I knew it had to do with loud noises, however - because the crueler kids would sneak up behind him and set off firecrackers or shoot cap pistols just to see the poor sod jump and scream.

 

I thought it was a terrible thing to do.  Most of these kids were the local bullies.  I’d often been on the receiving end of their nastiness – so I sympathized with the man.  I was maybe 6 or 7 at the time (1^st and 2^nd grade) – so the thought of his being at all dangerous never even crossed my mind.  He just looked sad.  My child’s mind reasoned that all he needed was a friend to make him feel better (‘cause god knows that’s what I needed).  Well - one Saturday afternoon I screwed my courage to the sticking plate and sat down beside him on that bench.  He never moved, just stared out into space.  I had no idea what to say – so I told him all about the Mighty Mouse cartoon I’d seen on TV earlier that morning (I thought Mighty Mouse was so cool!).  He never spoke – never even acknowledged I was there – but I could tell he was listening.  Not many grown-ups ever listened to what I had to say.  It felt good – like I had a real friend.  After a while, I said my goodbyes, promising to visit him the very next Saturday.

 

And so began one of the oddest relationships of my life.  Nine am on a Saturday, rain or shine, he’d be there.  Waiting.  We never really spoke (to each other) – though there were times when he’d talk to himself – disjointed stuff about war and bombs and mud.  Things I wasn’t equipped to understand or deal with.  I only have snatches of those memories – but I remember telling him about the shell shock.  I thought it was some disease, you see – like mumps or the measles - that one day he could get better.  At least I think that’s what I told him – that one day he’d get better.  He got very quiet; then kinda nodded his head.  Then he began to cry.  I didn’t know what to do – so I went over to the Jack-in-the-Box and bought him some French fries (they cost a quarter in those days – my week’s allowance).  I patted his hand.   

 

I wasn’t always able to make it – though I tried.  Saturdays were big chore days around my house – I had lots to do before I could go out and play.  I tried to get everything done early – but sometimes I had to wait quite a while to get started.  My father drank heavily, you see - spending most Saturday mornings in the bathroom (or the hallway) getting sick.  I’d try and sneak out if I could – but that wasn’t always possible.  Also - my mother liked to go out on weekends.  Sunday was usually her big meet-n-greet day – but that depended on my father’s drinking.  The drunker he was Friday night – the earlier she wanted to get out Saturday morning.  It was her way of sticking it to him.  I remember one particular Saturday - driving by in my parent’s car (we were going to visit my aunt or some such).  The mans bench was on a busy corner, near a traffic light.  When we stopped for the light – I looked out the window right at him.  I was afraid to wave, afraid if my parents noticed they’d refuse to let me see him any more; which was what happened, in the end.  He looked right at me – right into my eyes.  As the car pulled away, I saw him get up and stumble away.  He’d been waiting, you see – for me.

 

I saw him there on and off for the next several years.  I’d finally been forbidden to talk to him, being found out whilst kipping 50 cents for a couple of Cokes.  I was afraid of what my parents would do to me if I got caught disobeying (retribution in my house was swift and devastating) – so I’d ride my bike on the other side of the street, hurrying by very fast, unable to look him in the eye - all the while feeing guilty as hell for abandoning him.  He never knew why I stopped coming by.  I’ve always regretted lacking the courage to defy my parents and just say something – but I was so afraid (I had good reason to be – alcoholics and drug addicts aren’t known for making sound parenting decisions).  It was terrible.  He’d just look at me with those big sad eyes, watching me ride by.  I felt like a criminal.  Then, one summer, he was just gone.  I’d gotten so used to seeing him there.  I learnt about his death from a local shopkeeper.  He’d died sitting on that bench, all alone.  I was told he was indeed a veteran – of WWI.  And it wasn’t just shell shock – he’d been gassed.  And now he was dead – he was dead, and I never even knew his name. 

 

And that’s all he earned after serving his country – a worn out bench with a six year-old child to keep company.  Well I say he deserved better.  They all do.  You know - every time I hear Paul McCartney’s The Fool on the Hill I think of that poor man sitting alone on his bench - waiting.  Here it is almost 50 years later – and nothing has changed.  Veterans still wait for someone to care – and they often do it alone.

Adam Lambert - Ray of Light (Updated)

Whole Lotta Love from The Adam Lambert Show on Vimeo.

A superstar was born last night – and like any star or comet streaking across the sky – there may only be a limited viewing opportunity.  Adam Lambert may have sung his last yesterday.  Not because he wasn’t all that and a bag of chips – ‘cause he was – but because America doesn’t seem to know what to do about it.  Vote, you’d think.  Make him the next American Idol.  It’s a competition – and Adam obviously outshines all the rest.  But that counts for naught here in Jesus land – where a Jewish, possibly gay, albeit heavenly performer is considered less because of it. 

So I fully expect to tune in tonight and learn America in all it’s homophobic faux religiosity has rejected Adams ray of light.  To hell with ‘em.  I got to see magic performed right before my very eyes.  Adam prowled the American Idol stage like a jungle cat – sinewy, svelte, beautiful.  He sang like the angel he is – draped in swirling black leather, kohl smeared eyes and snakeskin pants.  I was entranced.  Adam entrances.  Few singers are possessed of that magic - to hold your heart in the palm of their hand.  I cried with him on 'Change is Gonna Come'.  He reached through the TV screen and caught me up in his emotional connections.  I was shivering by the time he was done. 

 

That's the difference between Adam and everyone else (for me, at least).  He touches my soul in a very profound way.  I feel with him; and that's the mark of any great artist: eliciting emotion whilst experiencing their work.  The last time I saw the birth of this magnitude star – Madonna appeared.  Before her it was Elvis (before my time – but it’s easy to see in his early performances).  Both changed popular culture.  We see our world differently thanks to them.  Adam also possesses this elusive quality.  When asked - Madonna said she wanted to rule the world. Adams assault will be quieter, more respectful (as was Elvis, in the beginning) – but no less all-encompassing.

 

I am nigh unto positive that Kris Allen has won American Idol.  But he will have lost in the long run.  Unfortunately for him - Kris's victory will always have a mental asterisk by the title – and that’s not fair to a very nice, very capable, very talented young man. Maybe America will surprise me – and go for pure talent.  I doubt it – but who knows?  Stranger things have indeed happened.  Look who’s president.

Addendum: Well - I was right. Adam Lambert did not win American Idol. Even Kris Allen acknowledged that Adam should have won. Once again the evangelicals carry the day. Politics and religion have twisted what should have been a joyful singing contest. I am very sad for us all.

The New Republican Party Theme Song

 

I'm My Own Granpaw (With Diagrams!)

Courtesy Ray Stevens

Adam Lambert – A Whole Lotta Love!

Untitled from Alejandro Iturrieta on Vimeo.

Well - I got my wish.  Glambert came back last night with a vengeance!  Talk about tearing the roof off the sucker!  ‘Ring of Fire’ Adam strutted that stage in all his black leather, lip curling glory!  What I would have given to have been in that audience!!  Hotchacha!  I mean he just blew everyone else outta the water.  It was a massacre: vocals, performance – the works; sheer perfection, wall to wall.  Who’d a thunk American Idol would ever showcase someone with this kind of talent?  You’d assume the industry would have noticed already and snapped somebody like Adam up.  But it doesn’t always happen that way – no matter how good you are.  I know.  I toiled in a similar vineyard for years.  Oh – I made a living; which is more than many can say – but I never managed to crack that top tier.  You need juice behind you to make a go of it, you see – some person or institution who forces people to sit up and take notice.  Talent alone isn’t enough.  That’s the service Idol can provide – that much needed boost; a leg up into the industry.  People who believe in your talent.  Adam just signed on for the ‘E’ ticket ride, baby – all the way to rock god-dom!  Wowza! 

Obsessive, says you?  Well……maybe a little.  But only around the edges.  I appreciate talent wherever I find it, is all.  What Adam does may look easy – but it’s not.  Oh – god gave him the talent to be sure; but it was up to him to hone and develop it.  That’s sweat equity, my friends.  That’s what led up to last night’s flawless performance.  All in all – I’d call it fantabulous – all across the board.  Oh – and Adam has him some mad partnering skills!  Now that’s partially learned.  Years of Musical Theatre paid off for Adam in spades with the duets.  He kept his performance attuned specifically to his partner Allison (the cutest little 17 year-old phenom!) - not showing those crazy vocals off one bit.  Adam and Allison sang TOGETHER.  That's what made it such a treat.  Duets are supposed to be give and take – not vocal competition.  It’s like tossing a ball back and forth.  The idea is to make it sound seamless – to sing as one; certainly to convey one emotional point of view.  Adam and his partner did that beautifully.  You know - I had heard speculation that Adam might pull a Patti LaBelle and overshadow little Allison the way LaBelle did Diana Ross during one rather infamous duet.  Not possible with Adam.  He's far too skilled - too professional.  Besides - the man just isn’t selfish.  You could see how carefully he watched Allison - making sure HER vocals were equally showcased.  Perfection.  Perfection in every way.  Oh this guy’s going far.  Win or lose – he’s tha bomb.  I say the only way he loses, is if other factors come into play other than talent – which is still an unfortunate possibility.  As the song says – people are strange.