Wish I were a songbird

I always wished I were someone who could sing. I mean really, really sing, not the off-tune nasal stuff that comes out of my mouth. No, I mean the rich, beautiful, blush-inducing, gorgeous sounds that some people can produce. I know, it's weird, but I blush when I hear incredible singing or music—does anyone else do this?

Anyhow, being a bad singer doesn't stop me from warbling all over the house, in the car, in the shower, under my breath, and even with the iPod while running on the treadmill. I sometimes even sing to my dogs and cats, making up silly songs to get their tails wagging. And I will definitely be one of those mamas who sings to their babies and children, too. Whether they shriek in terror when they hear me is another matter entirely.

I really enjoy it, feel so happy when I do, and as long as no one's in earshot and writhing in pain, why not? I noticed that when I sing, I must be in really good spirits (which is unusual for me sometimes). So I go with the flow, belting out song after song, an imaginary melodic songbird that's a chirping birdie in disguise.

Denny Doherty of The Mamas and The Papas

Have you ever read or watched tv about someone famous who was once a singer, artist, actor—whatever the case may be—and found the person so interesting that you actually almost mourn the fact they're no longer with us? I feel that way about a few prominent people—John Lennon, for one (I'm one of the biggest Beatles fan there is)—but another lesser-known singer I "miss" is Denny Doherty of The Mamas and The Papas.





I remember seeing my mom's Mamas and Papas album "If You Can Believe Your Eyes And Ears" when I was all of 9 and being totally fascinated by him. Not only did I think he was a handsome fellow, but he had an incredible voice, and he was a funny guy, too.




He wasn't a perfect person, but none of us are. And he had the humility to admit to his faults in interviews that I've seen. Anyhow, when he died a few years ago, I was really saddened.





I often think of him and his beautiful voice, charming wit, and carefree nature when I hear The Mamas and The Papas playing (I'm playing some now). Same thing with Cass Elliot, one of his very good friends.



At least they have left behind a legacy of wonderful music for us to enjoy.

Rockin' at The Bottom Lounge

Monday night was a blast. The band The Duke Spirit was awesome and we had great fun chatting with Scott and Leanne, Pete's friends. I have to admit, I was very taken with the band's style. Lead singer Liela Moss had on a black cat suit, a sequined mini dress over the cat suit, elbow-length black fingerless gloves, and some kickin' black boots. She definitely had some stage presence, and was dancing and gyrating all over the stage, which was pretty wicked.

And the guys were no less impressive in style or talent. Most had on either dress shirts and ties or something similar, and they just had a really cool, funky, circa-1982 vibe going. They were really jamming and keeping up quite well with Moss's dynamic lead. I was very impressed with them all, and I really got into the music, but I couldn't take my eyes off Moss's sequined mini dress, or her hair, for that matter. Oh, that hair! Many call the style "skunk hair" with the dark color underlaying the blond, and it's often ridiculed and sneered at. I, however, have always liked it for some reason, and on Moss it looked pretty awesome. It was very piecey and choppy looking, which looked very rocker chick. Moss grabbed her hair in passionate moments during several songs, moaning out the words, which made her presence all the more cool to me.



After The Duke Spirit left the stage, another band came on and Pete and I decided to head home. It was late and we were dead tired, so we went outside, where Pete was immediately drawn to a pretty sweet Triumph bike parked near the club's entrance. Here he is checking it out, smoking a cigarette while holding my purse. I don't quite remember why he was holding my purse...




I finally maneuvered Pete away from the Triumph and we headed home, exhausted but content, and we eventually collapsed in our nice cozy bed. It was after 12:30 a.m. before we got to sleep, and we had to get up pretty early the next morning as always (4:30 for me, 5:15 for him), so neither of us got much rest and were draaaagggging all day Tuesday.

Anyhow, on that note, I'm off to bed. I plan to sit down with my tea tomorrow night and do a little blogging and blog-reading, which I can hardly wait to do, and which is long overdue. I wish I had the energy of Liela Moss when it comes to just the mundane tasks in life, like doing laundry or running errands. Oh, to be a rock star, eh?