January 28, Houston: The book launch party for Lone Star Legend is at Brazos Bookstore, at 7 PM. Y'all are all invited!
February 4, Houston: I'll be reading/signing at the downtown Houston Public Library, at 6 PM.
February 5, Austin: I'll be reading/signing at BookPeople and will undoubtedly stop by the FlipHappy crepe trailer some time after that.
February 5, San Antonio: I'll be reading/signing at the San Pedro Barnes and Noble and will probably buy some coconut candy at Mi Tierra, too.
My other blog: Go read my the Houston Chronicle parenting blog (or my ChronMomBlog, as I like to call it) and find out what I've said to piss off the more conservative commenters this week.
Buy my new novel, Lone Star Legend.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
like the ladies from Fleetwood MacWe went to the Fleetwood Mac concert here in Houston last night. It was good -- they're very good musicians. We were sad that Christine McVie didn't tour with them. But it was still good.
While sitting there watching Lindsey Buckingham tear it the hell up on his guitar, I remembered that I'd mentioned Ms. McVie and Stevie Nicks in my first book. I was talking about being a child and imagining myself a successful grown-up, and that picture, in my mind, involved looking like Stevie and/or Christine.
See, when I was a kid in the '70s, there were those two, and then there were Ann and Nancy Wilson, of the band Heart*.
That was it, for me. Those were the four women who were allowed to be in rock bands, because they were so bad-ass that they apparently got to bend the men-only rule. And they were*, therefore, my role models. I could say my goddesses or my muses or whatever, but really, only Ann Wilson reached those proportions in my mind. Ann Wilson was, to me, awesomeness personified. I was singing "Magic Man" in the back seat of my parent's car, back when I was three or four I guess because I remember my mom still being there and encouraging me -- she liked that song a lot, too.
I remember staring at the cover of my dad's Dreamboat Annie album whenever he let me, reflecting on the perfection of the Misses Wilson on it, believing that they were exactly how women were supposed to look.
I remember pulling out the inner album sleeve and staring at the beautiful, beautiful guitarist in the band with them (Roger? Steve? can't remember who I thought was so handsome) and imagining that he must be in love with either Ann or Nancy, or both. And thinking that they probably kissed him sometimes. Both of them.
(Way later, I read that I'd guessed right.)
I remember, also, playing my dad's Tusk and Rumors cassette tapes. Listening to Lindsey Buckingham sing "won't you lay me down in the tall grass and let me do my stuff" and inferring that he was probably singing either to Stevie or to Christine, and that "do my stuff" undoubtedly meant kissing.
I remember wondering if I'd ever sing and play the guitar, like my mom used to, and if a handsome guitar player would ever want to kiss me. :)
So... I sat in the Toyota Center with hundreds of other people -- all chilled out and seated, mercifully, because we're all getting too old to jump around -- and I thought about this stuff. And I knew that the people behind me were more likely remembering actual kissing that they themselves performed to those cassette tapes, since they were a little older. Same with the people in front of us. Lindsey sang that song, and three women near by jumped up and screamed and danced like they must have danced as teenagers, and I knew that those words about the tall grass had had a striking effect on them, too. In a way I felt embarrassed that when the band announced a song name, I usually didn't know which song they meant until they started playing, because I was so young back then and I just listened to the tapes all the way through, without picking favorites or even looking at their titles, like you do when it's an album you've always known and loved. But then I relaxed and realized it was okay not to know the song names.
I sat there looking all around at the hundreds of people, knowing that they all had special memories that went with these songs. Lindsey and Stevie stood on stage and told us their own memories, too. And it was -- you know -- magical and stuff.
* When I say Heart, I mean, of course, Heart in the '70s. Not in the '80s. I pretend that '80s Heart didn't exist, or was a different band with the same name. Actually, same goes for Fleetwood Mac, too. Don't tell my Gen Y fiance that I said that, though.
My favorite song by Fleetwood Mac, as played by a young man on YouTube with a really nice voice.
The kissing-in-the-grass song, with Lindsey B's remembrance intro.
Stevie on the same tour, week before we saw her, wearing the same gold shawl for "Gold Dust Woman," which made our friend June suggest that I find one for my wedding. (I look better in silver.)
Labels: getting older, music, reminiscing
7:50 PM #Comments:
Oh, thank you for this Gwen. There is so much of my life and so many memories wrapped up in FM's music, but you tell stories so much better.Stevie ALWAYS wears the designated shawls for specific songs, whether she's performing solo or w/ FM (GDW, Stand Back, Edge of 17). The Gold Dust Woman one is treated like a relic b/c it's 30+ years old and started to fall apart a few years ago.
I'm so glad you guys got tickets!
# posted by
Maria : 8:54 PM
i wasn't old enough to love fm from the beginning, but rumours was in constant rotation on any road trip i have ever been on. something about that album, with the windows down, wind in my hair, sun on my face...
# posted by
pooja* : 1:57 AM
Aw man! My heart jumped a little when I saw the title of this post (I was praying you weren't going to say anything bad about FM because that would've hurt my heart). I went to see them last night in Tulsa. It was the 3rd time I've seen them, and it may have been the best yet. Like the first commenter, I feel that my childhood is inextricably linked to FM. Like, if I were to meet the band, they would instantly know who I was because we have such a bond. Silly I know. Rumors came out the year I was born so, you know, that means I'm extra specially connected with them :)
I was thinking somewhat along the same lines as you at the concert last night. I turned to my friend and said, "Isn't it crazy to think that all these hundreds of people are here for the exact same purpose, all milling around here, excited and waiting to see our band." I'll honestly feel a immense loss when one of the band members dies. And yes, although it doesn't take away from their shows at all, I do so wish that Christine would still tour with them. But at the same time I almost love her even more that she's just sort of like, "Yeah, I'm done with all that business, press releases and touring, I'd rather just kinda sit back and be a hermit now, I've left my legacy."
# posted by
: 9:01 PM
But what about Debbie Harry? Pat Benatar? Joan Jett? In the '70s, my next-door neighbor and I spent hours listening to 45s in her basement, and those three were BIG.
Also, Lindsey Buckingham's wife and I went to the same high school (she was a year behind me). Very pretty, very popular, and quite a little bee-yotch.
# posted by
Propagatrix : 11:49 AM
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