Sawyer’s Many Nicknames

Ah, Sawyer and his witty nicknames, you gotta love him.  I missed having a new LOST on this week, didn’t you?

And, beecause you need to see even more …

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Rock Stars – The Rise, Fall, and Rise of 80s Glam Frontmen into Pop Culture

When I saw that a book was written about 80s metal and pop culture, well … I just knew I had to read it.  I grew up listening to music, literally since the day I was born.  My momma always told me how I’d kick to the beat of whatever record she playing by keeping my long legs against the bottom of my crib.  For years I dreamed of being what I thought might be the coolest profession in the world – Rock Star Superstar, something that translated into being a guitar player, lead singer, and movie star.  Well, my glory days of karaoke are over, and I sold my cheap guitar back in 2000 when I needed groceries.  Never could learn to play more than five chords anyways, as I had no lessons, and no time to play it.  As for my movie career, well, at least I can say I’ve been an extra in Whip It and Hung on HBO.  I’m way to shy, never acted in a single school play, but I do adore the camera.  Even though my childhood dream hasn’t come true, music still lives in my soul, my blood, and runs through my veins. 

Rock Stars: The Rise, Fall, and Rise of 80s Glam Frontmen into Pop Culture by David S. Grant and illustrated by Joel Gwidt was a fun (if not brief, as I read it in 45 minutes, but I do read very fast) read.  David manages to make me chuckle all throughout the first thirty or so pages (and by writing this, I am also telling you that this was my biggest complaint with the book – there weren’t any page numbers.  I wonder why?) by taking me down memory lane, telling me stories about the good old glam days of rock from his perspective, as well as sharing some tales about the men who were the frontmen for the big metal 80s bands, those men who wore more make-up that the hot chicks they dated.  I’ve got every cd or at least every hot hit by every artist he profiles in this book, and immediately after reading this book, I was desperate to thrown on some glam rock and bang my head.  Sadly, since I have seven herniated disks in my spine at the advanced age of 39, the best I could do was throw in a cd, turn up my stereo to 11, and raise one arm and fist above my head during the big moments in each song.  Gone are the days of head banging for me, but you might not have arthritis and a connective tissue disease, but you might throw a head bang around in my honor if you’ve read this book, or at least loved dudes like Ozzy Osbourne and Bret Michaels.

I know a lot about music, especially from this era, but I still managed to learn a few new things when I read Rock Stars:

• Three of the four members of Guns and Roses didn’t manage to graduate high school;
• The state of Montana has no speed limits.  Of course, this comes up when he is talking about Sammy Hagar’s classic hit I Can’t Drive 55.  Even though I’ve been to Montana and even driven there, I had no clue, which really makes me want to go back again and drive as fast as I can while listening to Sammy’s song; and
• Tawny Kitaen was also on the cover of Ratt’s Out of the Cellar album.  Then again, I am not a dude.

Like me, David Grant has never learned how to play guitar.  But this has never stopped him from loving and living glam metal – he is a fan, like we all were fans back then, but he has managed to remain a fan all these years and I congratulate him for writing about his passion and writing weekly for a cool website about his passion called Metal Underground.  And, from reading this book, I can see David has watched Rock of Love and Celebrity Ghost Stories, two shows I have enjoyed watching myself.  He was even kind enough to sign my review copy of his book, so when I write this next sentence, I write it with huge guilt.  But, I am an honest blogger and book reviewer, and when I read Rock Stars, I felt like I was reading several good blog posts, rather than reading a book.  And this became a problem for me, along with the large print and several types of font that are found throughout the book.  I got scared, really scared, because, I didn’t know how to finish this post.  While I really enjoyed and had fun reading the beginning of this book, it just wasn’t for me.  I think that this book would be a great book for perhaps teenagers who want to learn all about 80s music, or someone who enjoys short pop culture novels.  It would make a great gift for forty-something guys who don’t read but who still love talking about Poison and Motley Crew.  I enjoyed all the illustrations, and all the reminiscing about Ratt, Van Halen, Sammy Hagar, David Lee Roth, Aerosmith, Guns N Roses, Bon Jovi, Def Lepard, Dio, Skid Row, Poison, Motley Crew, Ozzy Osbourne, Twisted Sister, Quiet Riot, Winger and Whitesnake, and the other glam faces of rock.  So, even if I didn’t like the large print, lack of page numbers, and the many font changes, let me remind you I did enjoy the writing, and that is what counts.  Perhaps this book wasn’t put together to shape a book to my liking, but it may be a perfect book for you.

The author, David S. Grant

Purchase your own copy of Rock Stars here.

To visit David S. Grant’s website, go here.

Check out David’s weekly column at Metal Underground here.

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Spingtime in the Hood

Nah, I’m just kidding, about the hood that is. I’m so happy spring is here, even if it is supposed to freeze tonight and my flowers are all going to die!  Here I am last weekend in my neighborhood, trying to strike a pose while on a walk with the family.  I noticed that I looked a bit busty in this shot, which is totally by accident, but when someone eight inches shorter than you takes your photo at the wrong angle, weird things happen.

I live in a beautiful little town, miles and miles away from the ghetto I grew up in.  Being lucky to finally live in a safe and unique town, I want to keep my city pretty.  I am being considered for my town’s Pretty Committee (Seriously!  Wish me luck, I find out in about a week.) but I’ve also been working hard the past few weeks trying to perk up the beauty outside my little condo.

My back yard was a total nightmare.  There must have been three hundred pounds of rocks back there.  Rocks that made you twist your ankle or scream in pain whenever you watered plants barefoot.  I wish I had remembered to take some before pictures, but just imagine my entire back yard (and by back yard, I mean tiny five foot square or so) was full of air conditioners and uneven piles of lava rock.

Having a not-so-great back, I was amazed at the willpower I had when I pulled out twenty bags of lava rock, leveled the ground, and laid in some patio pavers to create a little place for me to sit and relax.

I did the entire thing by myself, except for when my husband helped me carry in 12 pavers, as he was home my last day and was tired of me forcing the both him and our 16-year-old to give me backrubs at night.  Sure, he tossed some of the old round pavers, shown above, but since he is the trash man, I just consider that part of his job.  Ha, honey I’m kidding, thank you, I’d never have been able to get rid of all of those.  The worst part was dealing with the idiots who worked at Wal-Mart where I bought my supplies, a store I normally boycott.  On my first trip I purchased 24 pavers, a flat of flowers, bags of dirt, etc., and the cashier in the garden section said there wasn’t anyone to help me load my cart or load my purchases in my car.  I was at the store for nearly two hours, and my hands were bloody as hell, but I got it done.

I ran out of options for rocks to fill in the empty spaces around my pavers, as Wal-Mart’s garden center stinks and doesn’t sell any other rocks other than the muddy kind.  Like I want to buy a ten bag of mud with a few rocks thrown in.  I manged to find some decorative rocks by the candles, as shown below.  I don’t own a car anymore, so I have been walking a mile down to the creek and pulling rocks out of the water, and lugging them home.  Normally I wouldn’t kill myself like this, but it’s my way of saving money, since we have one income.  I can’t tell you how hard it is walking with heavy-ass rocks uphill for over a mile.  But, it paid off, and I only need to go back for maybe one more bag.

Do you have any spring projects going on?  What do you think of mine?  I know my project isn’t absolutely fabulous or perfect, but it is 100% better than what was back there before … and it’s a bargain at $120.

The Whole Book Deal Thing

A ranty but fun video I made in response to the agent who approached me to write a book about Kate Gosselin.  Sorry if it is a little long.

 

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The Queen of Palmyra by Minrose Gwin

“I need you to understand how ordinary it all was. . . .”

Nothing is ordinary during the summer of 1963 in Mississippi, yet Ms. Gwin tricks us into thinking so despite her this first line in her novel.  Her wonderful and moving novel revolves around Florence Forrest, a young girl, who has a beautiful (if not alcoholic and tormented) mother known as the town’s cake lady, and her angry yet seemingly loving (to his daughter, that is) burial insurance salesman father, as well as her grandparents who keep their eye on Florence with the help of their black maid, Zenie Johnson, who lives on the wrong side of the tracks in Shake Rag, the black section of town. 

As Florence’s mother begins to fall apart between her bootleg runs in the backcountry and Florence’s father’s abuse and unnatural hatred of blacks, this pushes Florence closer to Zenie, who is named for Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra.  While Zenie treats Florence as just another task she has on her list, calling her “it” when she was being nice to her, Zenie manages to fill Florence’s head with stories of the legendary queen’s courage and cunning, which comes in handy one day in the not-so-distant future.

The more time Florence spends with Zenie in Shake Rag (especially since Florence’s mother and father seem to drop her off and pick her up later and later these days), the more Florence comes to realize how racially divided her small town really is.  Her young eyes have become open to the world around her.  Despite being surrounded by the Klu Klux Klan, sometimes Florence’s scarier enemy is in her own home in Millwood. 

Without sharing most of the details with you, it is quite hard for me to explain how brilliantly layered this book is without giving away any of its secrets.  You would be amazed at the horror trapped beneath Florence’s eating problems and black outs.  Florence, as every child living in a tense and violent home, has a story that is so dark and twisty, it even impresses upon me (a survivor of horror at home myself) the depth of violence she had to face before the fifth grade.  Trust me, this was a book that had me on edge of my couch and staying up until 5:30 am in the morning to finish it, because I was so utterly terrified what was going to happen to the girl next. 

It is sometimes those quiet and magical novels, full of reserve and restraint, that pack the biggest emotional punches.  Minrose Gwin manges to deliver one hell of a punch in The Queen of Palmyra while still leaving much unsaid in this story of race and identity.  Don’t be a fool, go buy this book right now!

To buy your copy of The Queen of Palmyra, click here.

To visit Minrose Gwin’s website, go here.

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