Friday: The Rock Star. Went off to New Jersey all by himself to see his favorite band play. Introduced himself to them, gave them his demo, hung out after the show and ate with them, established himself as a professional in their world. Came home over the moon.
Saturday: The House Party fundraiser for Green Party Candidate for Mayor, Rev. Billy Talen. Spent all day cooking and cleaning. Had the backyard gorgeous until two tiki torches caught fire and scorched the grass. Then a downpour. In spite, the evening came off beautifully. Some good friends, the candidate and his wife - good conversation, good food, music from the ever-so-talented teenagers, a balmy, firelit night.
Sunday: Disco Mass, The Heritage of Pride Parade, A Gospel Concert. Went to church, and thrilled to dance and song in celebration of LGBT culture. We are all one. Marched in the Pride Parade with our brothers and sisters. Ended the day with a soaring Gospel concert back at St. Marks's by the wonderful Tyrone.
It's the kind of weekend that leaves me in awe that I live in New York, that I know the most incredible people and that my son is growing up here and is a part of all of this. Every day is a new adventure.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
A Real Life Education
Since the age of about 10, the rock star has marched with my husband and I in several anti-war demonstrations, Gay Pride parades, and participated in more than one civil disobedience action. The actions were led by Rev. Billy, whom some of you know and others have read about in my postings, a performance artist and activist who is now running for Mayor of NYC with the Green Party. Whether protest, march or action, my son joined in each time with a conviction as strong as ours and these experiences have had a great influence on who he is and who he is becoming.
Lately, I expressed to him my frustration with the fact that we have been forced to put him through a fairly traditional system of education which has not much nurtured his creativity. Only last year when he finally found himself in a performing arts school, did his education begin to feel like it was serving him, and even so, it's been a struggle for him academically. In spite of this, and thanks to the input of so many influences in his life, his creativity has flourished. We take our share of the credit for this, since theater, film, sculpture, writing and other forms of art and design have always dominated our lives.
Last Wednesday night, after the rock star and I both attended one of Billy's rousing campaign meetings, we talked about this further, and I expressed to him that even if he doesn't always do well in school, we could not be prouder of the person he is, artistically and in every other way. We know he's not perfect - neither are we - but who we are and every experience of our lives before and since he was born has combined to help make him the child we love so much.
Thinking of this reminds me that there have been many adults in his life, friends of ours without their own children, and some with, who have been his mentors. Mostly, these are artist friends of ours or devoted family members, who, in spite of his not always being easy, saw in him a great potential and invested their time, energy and interest in him. You know who you are. Without my realizing it, he has actually been getting the education I always wanted him to have. Many thanks to all of you who are and have been his teachers.
Lately, I expressed to him my frustration with the fact that we have been forced to put him through a fairly traditional system of education which has not much nurtured his creativity. Only last year when he finally found himself in a performing arts school, did his education begin to feel like it was serving him, and even so, it's been a struggle for him academically. In spite of this, and thanks to the input of so many influences in his life, his creativity has flourished. We take our share of the credit for this, since theater, film, sculpture, writing and other forms of art and design have always dominated our lives.
Last Wednesday night, after the rock star and I both attended one of Billy's rousing campaign meetings, we talked about this further, and I expressed to him that even if he doesn't always do well in school, we could not be prouder of the person he is, artistically and in every other way. We know he's not perfect - neither are we - but who we are and every experience of our lives before and since he was born has combined to help make him the child we love so much.
Thinking of this reminds me that there have been many adults in his life, friends of ours without their own children, and some with, who have been his mentors. Mostly, these are artist friends of ours or devoted family members, who, in spite of his not always being easy, saw in him a great potential and invested their time, energy and interest in him. You know who you are. Without my realizing it, he has actually been getting the education I always wanted him to have. Many thanks to all of you who are and have been his teachers.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Before and After
Before
It's that time of year again, the great, awe-inspiring event, THE BATTLE OF THE BANDS, 2009. Will the rock star's band be the one to win this time? Will we all be cast into fits of nervous angst as the time nears? The suspense is mounting as the band rehearses diligently and plans their fabulous (yet understated like they didn't try too hard) outfits. The first time Sounds Children Make played the B of the B at the Knitting Factory in Manhattan (the occasion that inspired me to start this blog) the Rock Star was all glammed-out in glitter. Now, he's doing a boy/man thing with either a western shirt and narrow tie, or skin-tight T, skinny jeans and Converse or Doc Marten boots. He rocks.
But in spite of all the build-up, they don't care that much about winning except that if they do, they'll get 12 free hours of recording time. They're just so happy to be playing in a professional venue to a large crowd. Anyway, more on this after the fact.
Now for some motherhood musings: The other day I walked past as he was shaving in the bathroom mirror with an electric razor that he'd bought. It was the first time I'd seen him shaving 'cause there ain't much there to shave. But he was so nonchalant doing it, I thought - this is it - he's a man. And yes, cliche as it is, I'm in tears as I think about it now.
After
The show has come and gone and the band knocked 'em dead. The girls in the audience were giddy, and a gaggle of wanna-be groupies formed outside after the 20 minute set to fawn. I wonder how the girlfriend/rockstar feels about that? She was spectacular on stage, fingering the keyboard throughout and then taking lead on her signature songs. Her voice is pure power - like an angel in hell belting to reach the heavens. Here's the video - judge for yourself. (forgive the cameraman's experimentation) www.ltbprod.com/SCM3/index.html.
Or for a cleaner sound, you can hear their songs on their myspace: www.myspace.com/soundschildrenmake
It's that time of year again, the great, awe-inspiring event, THE BATTLE OF THE BANDS, 2009. Will the rock star's band be the one to win this time? Will we all be cast into fits of nervous angst as the time nears? The suspense is mounting as the band rehearses diligently and plans their fabulous (yet understated like they didn't try too hard) outfits. The first time Sounds Children Make played the B of the B at the Knitting Factory in Manhattan (the occasion that inspired me to start this blog) the Rock Star was all glammed-out in glitter. Now, he's doing a boy/man thing with either a western shirt and narrow tie, or skin-tight T, skinny jeans and Converse or Doc Marten boots. He rocks.
But in spite of all the build-up, they don't care that much about winning except that if they do, they'll get 12 free hours of recording time. They're just so happy to be playing in a professional venue to a large crowd. Anyway, more on this after the fact.
Now for some motherhood musings: The other day I walked past as he was shaving in the bathroom mirror with an electric razor that he'd bought. It was the first time I'd seen him shaving 'cause there ain't much there to shave. But he was so nonchalant doing it, I thought - this is it - he's a man. And yes, cliche as it is, I'm in tears as I think about it now.
After
The show has come and gone and the band knocked 'em dead. The girls in the audience were giddy, and a gaggle of wanna-be groupies formed outside after the 20 minute set to fawn. I wonder how the girlfriend/rockstar feels about that? She was spectacular on stage, fingering the keyboard throughout and then taking lead on her signature songs. Her voice is pure power - like an angel in hell belting to reach the heavens. Here's the video - judge for yourself. (forgive the cameraman's experimentation) www.ltbprod.com/SCM3/index.html.
Or for a cleaner sound, you can hear their songs on their myspace: www.myspace.com/soundschildrenmake
Monday, May 4, 2009
My Best Face
It's been a weird couple of weeks since returning from Uncle Joe's funeral. The two days of funeral activities, the viewing, the mass, the graveside service (in a mausoleum) and the wake were demanding in that they required one to do things in a certain, prescribed way and order, talking, greeting and expressing oneself well, and almost continually. I have never attended a full-blown Catholic funeral before, nor a viewing. As much as I tried to get used to seeing the body - I really couldn't. It was so terribly unreal.
Fortunately, there was a lot of levity, remembering a much beloved man, laughter at the eulogy, much more at the wake. Sadness and tears over the flag ceremony; my uncle was a Korean War vet. No matter how you feel about war, it's a beautiful, and touching ritual - the honor guard solemnity, presenting the coffin flag to the widow, Taps played on the lone trumpet.
I'm glad I went, glad to have represented my family.
Since coming home, it's been a whirlwind of getting back into the swing of things: working on the Rev. Billy campaign (voterevbilly.org), organizing a community forum to address an intrusive development project, getting the Rock Star ready for the SATs and tending him through a very bad cold, feeling foggy from allergies. Working on my current novel, spring gardening, teaching - all these things are part of my life right now. Loving, struggling, putting my best face forward. Life goes on.
Fortunately, there was a lot of levity, remembering a much beloved man, laughter at the eulogy, much more at the wake. Sadness and tears over the flag ceremony; my uncle was a Korean War vet. No matter how you feel about war, it's a beautiful, and touching ritual - the honor guard solemnity, presenting the coffin flag to the widow, Taps played on the lone trumpet.
I'm glad I went, glad to have represented my family.
Since coming home, it's been a whirlwind of getting back into the swing of things: working on the Rev. Billy campaign (voterevbilly.org), organizing a community forum to address an intrusive development project, getting the Rock Star ready for the SATs and tending him through a very bad cold, feeling foggy from allergies. Working on my current novel, spring gardening, teaching - all these things are part of my life right now. Loving, struggling, putting my best face forward. Life goes on.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Vacation - happy and sad
It was an schizophrenic sort of vacation. About a month ago, I started thinking about where we could go during the rock star’s spring break and the choices were limited in terms of time and money. Somewhere we could drive to and somewhere warm, though those two things didn’t really go together. Also, I thought, we should go visit my aunt and uncle near Baltimore, because my uncle hadn’t been doing well. A call to my aunt confirmed it. The vacation had to encompass a visit to them because my uncle was going into hospice. As the East Coast representative of the family, I was the one to pay this visit, and I felt it was too long overdue anyway. We hadn’t seen them for 5 years. How shameful…to be within 3 hours of family and not visit more often.
I proclaimed to the rock star and his dad that this was to be our vacation, but promised that we’d see some interesting stuff in the area as we also paid our respects. So the day after Easter we headed on down south, making the first stop the nursing home where my uncle was under hospice care. I tried to prepare myself. My sweet uncle was a withered version of himself. His heart failing, his lungs damaged by asbestosis, his hips and back broken from falls. He acknowledged me long enough to say hello by name, then sunk into unconsciousness. I stayed with my aunt and son in the room for a while, chatting, my aunt maintaining amazing good humor and fortitude. She may be a bit over-dramatic sometimes, but she’s also a rock. I know she’s been preparing herself for my uncle’s demise for a long time. He’s had something like 5 heart attacks. She and her kids refer to him as Lazarus. But this time, Lazarus is not rising. I said my goodbyes and told him that I loved him, that his brother loved him, then we went to my aunt’s house to have dinner with her. She’s a riot, perhaps a little nuts, but I have always appreciated her sense of humor. She fell in love with the rock star – those two have an eerie lot in common for two people who have no blood ties. We then went on to our hotel near D.C.
We woke up to rain and cold, went into Washington and saw the Natural History Museum, very cool, and then the Hirshhold Museum of Modern Art. I never used to like modern art that much until I began to see it through the rock star and his dad’s eyes. This place had some mind-blowing exhibits, which I won’t try to describe here – go see it if you can. That evening we had dinner with my aunt and my cousin and his family, and re-connected with those lovely people that I hadn’t see in way too long. Funny how much you have in common with relatives even though your lives may be so different.
The next morning, as luck would have it, we woke up to more rain and colder cold, even though my reasoning for going south for vacation was that it would lead us to warmer weather. In my infinite wisdom, however, I booked us a hotel with an indoor, heated pool which gave the slight illusion of a warm weather getaway. (The rock star and I like to swim.) Anyway, we went, in the pouring rain, into Baltimore to the American Visionary Arts Museum, a venue for “untrained” artists. Just fantastic – though I like to call it the OCD museum because these artists seem mostly compelled to create art by taking little tiny pieces of various materials and constructing giant things out of them. After that, we went vintage clothes shopping, ended up eating Maryland crabs for dinner, and finally went back to the hotel to have a swim.
Our last day, sun and warmth! We headed for Harpers Ferry, W.V., famous Civil War Site and the location of the John Brown raid. This place is remarkable. It’s a charming village hanging on a hillside over the Shenandoah River, remote and almost untouched by modernity. Though there are homes, shops and restaurants like any town, mostly all are the original buildings - I’m sure it’s a landmarked village. But rather than focus on the town, we meandered through a wooded area along the river, among the newly greening trees and the bluebells. There are these great stone ruins of mills and factories that are strewn next to the river in the woods, completely accessible for exploring and clambering over and around. They are an awesome testament to the early industrial age – now just a fascinating part of the beauty and history of this place. I found myself perched on the tip of one structure, looking out over the Shenandoah, thinking of how my cousins and aunt are dealing with my uncle’s rapidly approaching demise - so sad for them.
There was not another soul out exploring these forgotten and crumbling monuments to man’s ingenuity, lying peacefully amongst the most idyllic backdrop. This was the perfect spring day we’d been craving and we were thrilled to have it to ourselves while the smattering of tourists were busy perusing the town shops and "museums." It could not have been a better final day of our trip. After lunch we wandered up to Antietam, which was interesting and beautiful but we didn’t linger – we had a 4 hour drive home and we hit it around 3:30. A long ride back to NY, but a really good and meaningful trip. So glad we did it just like we did, and it couldn't have been timed better because this morning my cousin called to say my uncle passed away. Sunday, I go back to Baltimore on the train for the funeral - but that's another blog.
I proclaimed to the rock star and his dad that this was to be our vacation, but promised that we’d see some interesting stuff in the area as we also paid our respects. So the day after Easter we headed on down south, making the first stop the nursing home where my uncle was under hospice care. I tried to prepare myself. My sweet uncle was a withered version of himself. His heart failing, his lungs damaged by asbestosis, his hips and back broken from falls. He acknowledged me long enough to say hello by name, then sunk into unconsciousness. I stayed with my aunt and son in the room for a while, chatting, my aunt maintaining amazing good humor and fortitude. She may be a bit over-dramatic sometimes, but she’s also a rock. I know she’s been preparing herself for my uncle’s demise for a long time. He’s had something like 5 heart attacks. She and her kids refer to him as Lazarus. But this time, Lazarus is not rising. I said my goodbyes and told him that I loved him, that his brother loved him, then we went to my aunt’s house to have dinner with her. She’s a riot, perhaps a little nuts, but I have always appreciated her sense of humor. She fell in love with the rock star – those two have an eerie lot in common for two people who have no blood ties. We then went on to our hotel near D.C.
We woke up to rain and cold, went into Washington and saw the Natural History Museum, very cool, and then the Hirshhold Museum of Modern Art. I never used to like modern art that much until I began to see it through the rock star and his dad’s eyes. This place had some mind-blowing exhibits, which I won’t try to describe here – go see it if you can. That evening we had dinner with my aunt and my cousin and his family, and re-connected with those lovely people that I hadn’t see in way too long. Funny how much you have in common with relatives even though your lives may be so different.
The next morning, as luck would have it, we woke up to more rain and colder cold, even though my reasoning for going south for vacation was that it would lead us to warmer weather. In my infinite wisdom, however, I booked us a hotel with an indoor, heated pool which gave the slight illusion of a warm weather getaway. (The rock star and I like to swim.) Anyway, we went, in the pouring rain, into Baltimore to the American Visionary Arts Museum, a venue for “untrained” artists. Just fantastic – though I like to call it the OCD museum because these artists seem mostly compelled to create art by taking little tiny pieces of various materials and constructing giant things out of them. After that, we went vintage clothes shopping, ended up eating Maryland crabs for dinner, and finally went back to the hotel to have a swim.
Our last day, sun and warmth! We headed for Harpers Ferry, W.V., famous Civil War Site and the location of the John Brown raid. This place is remarkable. It’s a charming village hanging on a hillside over the Shenandoah River, remote and almost untouched by modernity. Though there are homes, shops and restaurants like any town, mostly all are the original buildings - I’m sure it’s a landmarked village. But rather than focus on the town, we meandered through a wooded area along the river, among the newly greening trees and the bluebells. There are these great stone ruins of mills and factories that are strewn next to the river in the woods, completely accessible for exploring and clambering over and around. They are an awesome testament to the early industrial age – now just a fascinating part of the beauty and history of this place. I found myself perched on the tip of one structure, looking out over the Shenandoah, thinking of how my cousins and aunt are dealing with my uncle’s rapidly approaching demise - so sad for them.
There was not another soul out exploring these forgotten and crumbling monuments to man’s ingenuity, lying peacefully amongst the most idyllic backdrop. This was the perfect spring day we’d been craving and we were thrilled to have it to ourselves while the smattering of tourists were busy perusing the town shops and "museums." It could not have been a better final day of our trip. After lunch we wandered up to Antietam, which was interesting and beautiful but we didn’t linger – we had a 4 hour drive home and we hit it around 3:30. A long ride back to NY, but a really good and meaningful trip. So glad we did it just like we did, and it couldn't have been timed better because this morning my cousin called to say my uncle passed away. Sunday, I go back to Baltimore on the train for the funeral - but that's another blog.
Friday, April 10, 2009
The Time of My Life
I don't mean to keep rambling on about my son turning 17 like I'm the only mother on the planet that ever had a child turn 17. But some things have struck me the last few days that make me realize that this milestone is more significant than I previously thought. I came to this conclusion when I considered myself at 17, and what a big transition that was for me. During the late 70's, a lot of kids were enlightened early to things like sex, drugs and rock and roll, much like kids today - but not me. I was genuinely a child until almost exactly my 17th birthday. I'm not saying that anything untoward happened that day - but it was on the eve of my birthday that an event occurred that changed my life. My best friend and I went to see the Led Zeppelin movie, The Song Remained the Same, almost by accident. (God, I'm really aging myself.) That movie opened my eyes to a world that had been invisible to me before. The fact that that particular movie changed everything, in retrospect, seems a little silly. But after that, the music I listened to, how I dressed, who I hung out with, everything changed. And it happened simultaneously to my best friend. We bore each other along on a tide of heavy metal and punk and all the accoutrements that went with it for the next few years.
It was also after I turned 17 that I met my first boyfriend, that I fell in love for the 1st time with my second boyfriend, that my heart was truly broken for the first time, and that I left home to travel. As I told the rock star today, that year my life began. Now he's 17, and has been, for at least a couple of years, where I was at 17. But still, I look at him with renewed wonder that he's finally reached that magical age. I would say it was the best year of my life up to that point, and in some ways the worst. I wish for him only the joys and the awakenings I had that year. This is just the beginning.
It was also after I turned 17 that I met my first boyfriend, that I fell in love for the 1st time with my second boyfriend, that my heart was truly broken for the first time, and that I left home to travel. As I told the rock star today, that year my life began. Now he's 17, and has been, for at least a couple of years, where I was at 17. But still, I look at him with renewed wonder that he's finally reached that magical age. I would say it was the best year of my life up to that point, and in some ways the worst. I wish for him only the joys and the awakenings I had that year. This is just the beginning.
Monday, April 6, 2009
The Birthday Party
Today the rock star turns 17. Saturday night was the official bash, a Guitar Hero party, ironic because he and his friends spend most of their time actually singing, playing and rehearsing music, so to be spending hours doing it in a video game seems redundant. It ended up being 5 hours of loud craziness. His friends, gay, straight, bisexual, all artists, highly creative, each one louder than the last, are the most delightful, interesting group of kids you could meet. I love them, each and every one, because they are so special. These are the kids who in another time and place might have been the oddballs, but maybe because they live in New York and go to an arts school, they are totally in their element. I made a ton of Mexican food, which they scarfed and we invited just enough adult friends to keep his dad and I sane, though most of them beat a retreat by 9:00. The kids left around 11:00 to go see the midnight show of Rocky Horror. Some things never change.
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