When people start writing, it is common to think, “I can’t be a writer. I am not nearly as good as Stephen King/Ernest Hemingway/Toni Morrison/Fill-in-the-Blank, so why should I even try?”
Watching “How to Be a Writer” videos or reading/listening to those types of books, the common refrain is, “Practice Makes Perfect.” Of course, we all know this. I remind myself of this often.
Queen – Live at the Rainbow ’74
So as I was chilling after a long day’s physical work in my room, I turned on a Queen concert I had not seen in its entirety – their Live at the Rainbow in 1974.
Queen was fully formed in 1971 with the addition of John Deacon on bass, added to Brian May (guitar and vocals), Roger Taylor (percussion and vocals), and Freddie Mercury (vocals and piano). So, this concert, the Queen II Tour, was a mere 3 years into their formation and it was their first tour.
And it shows.
Watching it, I smiled at the (for lack of a better word) immaturity of their stage presence, their cohesiveness, and even the way the songs sounded. Each song in their set sounded similar compared to the massive diversity of later albums. They were also decidedly slower compared to later years. “Seven Seas of Rhye,” was especially slow compared to future concerts. (“Stone Cold Crazy” definitely picked up the speed of that show.)
By the time I saw Queen on November 4, 1978 during their Jazz Tour, they were an amazingly gifted band whose show was incredible. In those four short years of practice… in the studio and on tour… they had become monstrously great.
Moving forward even more, by the time they were at Live Aid in 1985, they stole the show from dozens of seasoned bands and singers. That was only eleven years after The Rainbow show.
Progression
Looking at the speed of their progression, I think about my own writing. Has my writing advanced in the last eleven years? Have I practiced enough? Do I practice enough?
No.
I am buoyed by having watched Live at the Rainbow ’74. I see what a great deal of desire and practice can do for an artist. I want to be an artist. In order to do that, I need to get my ass writing again. I’ve not written since October 1, 2022… the day after NaNoWriMo ended… and I’ve sporadically done a couple of edits on the book that needs to come out.
Side Note: Editing is HARD!
Forward Movement
I wrote my 3 Pages this morning. I am finishing this post. I will do my best to do a bit of editing, even if it is just for five minutes.
I’m listening to Frampton Comes Alive! and thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve blogged.
Como siempre, health issues arise and fall, but I’m tired of talking about those.
Work has been good, if not terribly busy. I’m writing some great pieces for work and I am proud of that.
I’ve been listening to a lot of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young and really loving that music from my childhood. It’s made me think about how old my musical idols are and how people are dying every day and too soon, it will be Brian May, Roger Taylor, John Deacon, Peter Frampton, Yusef Islam (Cat Stevens) and more.
Amy and I had a tumultuous life together. She died of an accidental overdose to Fentanyl in 2011, before everyone carried Narcan. We really didn’t like each other very much, even if we loved each other deep, deep down.
My favorite memory of her… with her… was when I was driving her somewhere and we had not been talking for an hour, just listening to the radio. We were probably angry with each other, hence our silence. Then “American Pie” by Don McLean came on and without hesitation, we both sang every word of that 8 minute, 37 second long song together. I remember crying as it ended because it had been the most tender moment I’d ever shared with my sister. It turned out to be the most tender moment I would ever share with her.
I can feel that love flowing from us still… a beloved memory recreated with music.
Did the guys give Freddie shit about what he wore on stage? How did Freddie respond? In the commentary of Montreal 1981, Roger says he always laughed when Freddie wore shorts on stage. Brian said he just didn’t know what to say about them. Did they tease like boys? Did they tell Freddie his dick was going to fall out of the white shorts and maybe he should wear underwear? Did they tell him the first five rows could see his dick even when it hasn’t fallen out? Did Freddie laugh his ass off and say, “I don’t give a fuck, dear.”
Looking at the masses of photos they modeled for, did they get sick of it all? They look great and relaxed in almost all of them. How did they tolerate that crazy boring part of being stars? When someone said, “You have a photo shoot in two hours,” did they moan and groan about having to get dressed again, to model, again. Did they just take it in stride? What was the worst part of the job of Queen? If I had to pick what would drive me crazy would be photo sessions, mostly because I do not always feel pretty enough to be photographed 24/7. If you are a Queen member, do you just see it as a normal part of your day?
I really don’t care much about the other drugs they might have done.
I know they drank cases of Moët, but what about wine? What was each of their favorite wines? They drink/drank lots of whisky; what is/was their favorite? Are any of them considered alcoholics? Have they ever tried not drinking?
When it came to lyrics, did they see who could use the most complex word? Was it a contest to see who could have the most creative lyrics? I think about their Scrabble games and how competitive they were making words; did that translate to writing songs as well?
John Deacon
Does John ever listen to his famous bass riffs and smile? Does he listen to other bassists fawn over his music? Does John ever miss performing? Does he pick up his bass at home and play? Even all by himself? Does he have a collection of his basses in the house?
When John wrote, “I Want to Break Free,” had he been having an affair and wanted out of his marriage? How did he fix his marriage so they are still together after 48 years?
Did John have fun when he was in the band? Does he have good memories? Is he happy now? I really hope he has had a wonderful life. Such a gentle soul.
Brian May
Did Brian snort coke like the others? With the others? He has said he did not do any drugs. Did he worry about his 180 IQ? How did he avoid all that with the other three around him doing drugs?
Was Brian the guy who was the furthest out of the circle? People think it was John, but Brian dealt with depression. Was part of that his isolation from not partying like the others? Or did he and he just has kept his secrets tighter than the others.
Did the guys know Brian suffered from depression? Did Brian ever tell any of them when he was having a hard time? I would imagine he told Roger when he went into the treatment center in 1997. Did he tell John? Was his stint in Arizona before or after they filmed “No One But You (Only The Good Die Young)“?
Is Brian happy? It’s as if I can see the pain in his eyes on IG and YouTube sometimes. He does speak about his on and off again difficulties. Are they as painful as in the past when he needed a lot of help to get balanced again? I can relate to Brian so much and my heart hurts feeling those same types of emotions… and that he might feel something similar… I wish better for both of us.
On a more humorous note, did the guys tell Brian not use such big words except when he was playing Scrabble? (Even then, Roger never forgave Bri for getting the highest score for one word – 168 points. Bri, used all his letters on a triple word score, spelling “lacquers.” Roger spits, “Bastard!” in the video.)
Freddie Mercury
Freddie had a fun life. I don’t even question that. Did he love his time in the band, too? I can’t imagine he would not have since he stayed and was a major proponent of the band staying together.
Freddie seemed like he loved his life. Listening to some of his songs, he also felt sad deeply… longingly… at times. He really did seem otherworldly. That had to have been difficult sometimes/a lot. Did he ever wish for something different? More anonymity? What was it like in his mind? Was he always thinking in song?
Did anyone in the band not visit Freddie at the end and hurt his feelings? What did Freddie think? Did Freddie ever wonder where he got AIDS? Did he care? Did he cry when he got the diagnosis? Did he have other friends with AIDS to talk to?
He loved Mary. Full stop.
Roger Taylor
Did Roger ever get any Sexually Transmitted Infections from his dalliances? Are there Roger babies running around all over the world? Does he know about them? Does he take care of them? Does he visit them? How could he not have any other kids?
Roger is snarky and sarcastic and incredibly dryly funny. I didn’t like Roger for a long time (despite finding him yummingly attractive) until I heard some of his songs that illustrated his heart better than any interview ever did.
You can’t hurt me now, I’m gone from you
You can’t hurt me now
You can’t hurt me now
You can’t reach me where I’ve gone to
I surrender
And “Foreign Sand”
Why do we fear what we don’t understand
Can’t we reach out our hands to try to just say hello
Try to plant a seed, fulfill the need
To make it grow, just say hello
Someone without a heart does not write lyrics like that. Now I would have Roger’s baby.
So Many Thoughts
I am sure I have more questions, but these are ones that have been floating around in my head. It feels good to have written them down. Doubtful I will ever get any answers, but the questions are now out in the Universe. Float around, question marks!
Roger Taylor, Queen’s drummer, became such good friends with Taylor Hawkins, the Taylor family considers Hawkins as Roger’s son Rufus “Tiger” as his “almost godson.” It was Freddie Mercury who gave Tiger his nickname; clearly, it stuck.
Freddie Mercury died November 24, 1991 when he was 45 and Tiger was eight months old.
I’m sure others figured this out a lot sooner than I did, but the close ties between the two bands, with Taylor Hawkins as the connector, has to be spooky in that Queen and the Foo Fighters each lost a beloved member who had been with them for over two decades.
What I hope is Roger Taylor and Brian May are a support for Dave Grohl (whose best friend was Taylor Hawkins) and the other Foo Fighters members as they grieve their drummer Taylor. What a sad club they belong to, with such an amazing connection being the wonderful Taylor Hawkins. Hawkins even shares a name with Roger and Tiger Taylor.
My head spins as I consider it all. Theirs must as well.
Tributes
This first video was made by the three remaining members of Queen… John Deacon, Brian May, and Roger Taylor… as a tribute to Freddie Mercury. It’s exquisitely, sadly, beautiful. It was the last video John Deacon ever did before retiring from Queen, and music, altogether. There was an enormous Tribute Concert for Freddie, but I wanted to share this kind gift his bandmates gave him privately.
Bring tissues.
This second video is from the Taylor Hawkins Tribute Concert held in London on September 3, 2022. Taylor’s 16-year old son Shane is featured as drummer in his dad’s place as they sang “My Hero.”
I can’t watch this without chills or tears.
Again, I hope… no, am sure… each comforts the other… Queen and Foo Fighters.
It’s always been difficult for me to hear the bass line of any music, including Queen’s. I often heard about Deacy’s (Deek-ee) skills, but unless he was playing without the band, I just could not hear him.
Until Today
This morning, I put on headphones and turned Queen videos on YouTube and, amazingly, I could, all of a sudden, hear Deacy’s bass lines! Shocked, I listened to the next song, then the next. There it was again. Did I just need headphones on all this time?
But I’d listened with headphones before, yet the bass never popped out like it did this morning.
Focus
For song after song, I concentrated to hear the bass John was playing, all but ignoring Freddie, Roger, and Brian, wanting to hear, finally, what I had been missing for far too long.
I am in heaven!
Amazing Listen
Below is Charles Berthoud playing Deacy’s most famous bass creation and one every new bass player learns first. This is 1:33 minutes long, but will move you to tears with its beauty and connection.
I took an Uber to my daughter Aimee’s a couple of hours away and spent a few hours holding her four-month old baby (my grandbaby!) and had time with my other toddler granddaughter, too. It was glorious being with all of them.
I also got to fold clothes which is my favorite chore to do ever ever.
As I held the child in my family line, I began singing “Bohemian Rhapsody” to her. She seemed to like it, smiling at me at one point. Then, from the kitchen, I hear someone joining my voice, singing along. I got chills and kept singing. It was wonderful to know so many people know this amazing song.
Ubering
I was tired when I left, so put my earbuds in for the two hour ride home and dozed to my Queen playlist.
I heard “Bohemian Rhapsody” playing and, confused, took one of my earbuds out only to hear “BoRhap” playing on the driver’s sound system. I laughed and asked him how he knew “Bohemian Rhapsody” and he said, “Doesn’t everybody?” When I asked how old he was, he said 22 and I was floored.
“When was the first time you heard this song?”
“I’ve always known it.”
In my head I laughed. I think kids are born knowing it now. A from-the-womb sort of thing.
“Killer Queen” came on and I asked, “Are you playing a Queen playlist?”
“I am,” he said.
All I could do was laugh and thank him for being so cool.
He started “Bohemian Rhapsody” again and we sang together; the entire song.
I am making a 70s Playlist to listen to as I write during NaNoWriMo, which starts in one week from tomorrow.
As I pulled up Simon and Garfunkel, I came across the 7 O’clock News/Silent Night that I’d heard as a young teen, but could not have understood completely.
Tonight I listened to it and wept at the juxtaposition they created and how so little has changed. Except there is no 7 O’clock news anymore. But with 24/7 news, it makes it even more alarming because Silent Night would have to be on a constant loop to accompany the world’s horrors.
Young people need to hear this. I hope some will React to it on YouTube come the holiday season.
Or tomorrow.
There is no “season” this sadness is appropriate, but the message is very much needed every day of the year.
Rick Beato is one of my favorite YouTubers. He is a fantastic guitar player and music teacher who dissects songs that often go over my head (as a non-musician), but enough of the time I do understand enough to keep watching since I do love music and played flute and piccolo for many years. I watch him even if it’s just to hear music-speak; it’s all fascinating.
He had a segment with Mary Spender, another musician YouTuber, and they talked about Jim Croce’s song “Operator” which was written in 1972. While the majority of the discussion was music-oriented, I was piqued by his mentioning items in the song that younger people probably have no clue about. I am talking about the time around 1972 in this post.
I’m writing this specifically for my kids and grandkids, but I’m spring boarding off you, Rick… thanks!
Baseline: Our Family’s Telephone
This was on the kitchen wall at the house where I grew up. I made the pic bigger so you could see the numbers in the middle of the dial.
First, there is the dial. You put your finger in the hole and spin it around to dial the number. This is why we still say “dial a phone” – we did! The area code says 305… the same area code written there decades after it changed to 407. And the phone number where I grew up – 855-9485 – always imprinted in my mind. This phone was corded, as they all were then, with a short cord until they the made longer ones when I was a teenager. Still, the long ones didn’t go very far and got really tangled, so that was annoying.
Same phone showing the short cord.
Party Lines
Until I was about 11 years old (1972), we had a party line. That’s when several households shared one phone line. Not number, but line. When our phone number was called, we had a certain ring. When the other houses’ numbers were called, they had their own distinct rings. Some rings were two short rings, a break, and then a longer ring. Something like that. But, if you wanted to… and many did… you could pick up the phone and listen in on the other people’s calls. You could talk, too, but mostly people just wanted to listen in. Privacy was not a thing back then. The major reasons, clearly, were the party line and the short phone cord.
If you needed to make a call and someone from the party line was on their phone, you either had to wait until they were done or tell them you needed the phone and hope they hung up. More often than not, they did not hang up and you got angrier and angrier the longer they talked. I distinctly remember my mom trying to get one of the teens off the line for quite awhile and ended up slamming the phone down after calling her a bitch. I asked what a bitch was and my mom, ever the avoider, said, “I said, ‘witch.'” I can hear her yelling bitch all these decades later.
Slamming a Phone Down
Busy Signal
If you were on the phone and another person was trying to call you, they got a busy signal. They would get a busy signal until you hung up the phone. No one could get through. There was no call-waiting until I was an adult.
We didn’t have Caller ID until well after call-waiting came around.
There was one phone number per house until I was in my late teens when parents got their own lines in their bedrooms. Which we used when they weren’t home because we could lie on the bed and yack for hours. Our parents would call their line and know we were on it. For hours. We always got in trouble, but did it anyway.
It’s so odd to think we know exactly who is calling now. People can call and get a ring even if someone is talking to us, and we can go anywhere there is a signal, even lying on our beds.
Prank Calls
How many of you remember either placing prank calls during slumber parties or receiving dirty prank calls on Saturday nights?
I remember both.
We were giggling girls calling random numbers and giggling more when some unsuspecting person picked up their phone. We would do any number of silly things; ask them what they were wearing… ask, “Is your refrigerator running? Then go catch it!” It’s embarrassing me to even write that I did these things. At the time, they were hilarious.
The scary ones were the calls in to us. Heavy breathing men who, now I know, were probably wanking. We didn’t know that then, though. Men who tried to talk dirty to us. We would quickly hang up and nervously laugh about what they said.
The worst were when they tried to terrify us with murder or rape talk. We couldn’t hang up fast enough, but not before we clung to each other in fear.
It’s odd thinking prank phone calls are a thing in our past that shan’t be repeated.
“Help Me Place This Call?”
In the first line of the song “Operator,” we have an operator who, among other things, was someone who would dial for the caller.
“Operator, oh, could you help me place this call?”
ATT – American Telephone and Telegraph Company operator. ATT acquired Bell Telephone in 1885 and was the phone company until 1984 when the US government broke ATT into parts, eliminating their monopoly.
Women (and they were always women) were hired to be telephone operators and they had a few jobs, but mainly (from what I know), they talked to people who dialed 0 (zero) on a phone. Back then there was no 911, so if there was an emergency, you dialed 0 and they would connect you to who you needed… fire, ambulance, or police. Operators were initially around the country and you never knew where you would get an Operator so that made it difficult if you needed emergency help, so they were eventually hired more locally, in an area code, for example.
Area Codes
Sorry this is jumping around, but things are popping out as I write that need to be addressed before the next item. Didn’t expect the rabbit hole with the word “operator,” did you?
Before I was born, phone numbers were different than they are now. They often combined letters and numbers. In 1972, they were different, too. Then, we had seven numbers unless we were calling out of our area. Then we had to use the area code before the seven numbers. An area code grouped regions together.
The area code for Orlando and surrounding areas was 305 when I was growing up. That went all the way down the southeast to Key West. So if we were calling anywhere in our area code, there was no extra fee. As Orlando and everywhere else grew, they needed more area codes and in 1988, Orlando’s changed from 305 to 407. It was quite distressing to lose our 305, but now no one gives it a second thought. Today, Orlando also has 321 area code numbers.
As we all know, even if you are calling next door, you have to dial the area code. Ten number dialing is totally normal for us now.
Pay Phones
A phone booth with the folding door.
In the olden days, we had to pay for calls – to dial the pay phone (hence its name) and to pay for long-distance calls (“distance” being quite arbitrary). If you didn’t have money for a call, for many years, you were out of luck. Rarely, you could beg an operator (who you could call even without money) to place a call for you.
Note the dial with numbers and letters by the finger slot. Phone numbers used letters in my mom’s day. By the time I was dialing a phone, only numbers were used. See also where you put the coins at the top? You had to carry a lot of change for long-distance calls.
To make a long-distance call, you would need many quarters to pay for the call, putting the coins in as the operator told you how much to put into the phone. I always found it interesting how they knew the amount I put in and would continue the call. If, while you were talking, the money/time ran out, the operator would break in tell you to deposit more. If you could put a lot in, you wouldn’t be interrupted as much and, as far as I remember, if your call finished before you ran out of money, the coins would drop down into the coin return thingie.
The Coin Return
An annoying thing happened a lot; when you put a coin in, it would just drop to the coin return. Did the phone or operator think you put a Canadian coin in the phone? You would put the same coin in, trying several times, and invariably, it would fall through to the coin return slot. Occasionally, the repeat try would actually work and that was worthy of a “whoopeeeee!” as it echoed inside the small enclosed booth.
It was normal for everyone to check the coin return for coins someone forgot to get out before they left the phone booth. If there were phone booths today, I would be checking for loose change in them, that’s how ingrained that behavior was.
Accurate meme.
Collect Calls
If we didn’t have money, but had to call someone, we could… or would… call collect.
Me: “I need to make a collect call to 305-855-9485. My name is Barbie.”
Operator talking to the person called: “I have a collect call from Barbie. Will you accept the charges?” I could hear the operator ask that question.
Whomever I was calling would either accept or refuse the call. If they refused it could be one of two reasons; one, they didn’t want to talk to me, or two, I was calling to let them know I was okay and they didn’t need to accept the charge. We would do that if we needed to check in and didn’t want to spend money.
What machinations!
Third Party Calling
Third party billing could be demonstrated best by my I-Ran-Away-From-Home story.
Me: “Operator, I need to make a call and charge it to (random area code and number).”
Operator: “Okay.”
Me: (talking to parents for free and some stranger got charged for the call) – (gift: bad karma)
Occasionally, the operator would call that third number to see if they would pay, then I would hang up and try another operator. Invariably, within a couple three calls, I could call for free without my parents ever knowing. Years later, I learned people did not have to pay for those stranger calls. I was quite relieved.
Finding a Number
Jim Croce’s next line is:
“And give me the number if you can find it”
At one time, operators did look things up for us. Remember, there was a time, in my lifetime, that there were no computers. They had to turn the phone book’s pages just like we did on this end of the phone.
A public pay phone booth with hanging phone book, encased in a plastic cover.
While there were phone books hanging on pay phones, it wasn’t uncommon to have a page ripped out because someone wanted to save the number for future reference. I doubt many people thought, “Gee, what if someone needs this page?” They were in their own heads and kept the page they wanted.
Once computers came around, a new type of operator was born – the Information, or 411, Operator. I had a partner who was a 411 operator and it was one of the strangest jobs ever. A call-center job, people asked the oddest questions.
“What is the airline closest to the airport?”
“What is the closest taxi to my house?”
Antique Call Center
They thought they called 911 all the time and 411 finally started forwarding it instead of trying to explain the person needed to hang up and dial again. Alternately, 911 had the same issue with people calling to ask for the number to Shakey’s Pizza.
Phone Books
Yes another obsolete item attached to the phones of the past.
A stack of smaller phone books. Some were several inches thick. The Yellow Pages (what they were called) were ads. The White Pages (also what they were called) were residences.
Notice the 7-digit numbers. No area code needed to be used wherever this was.
Yellow Pages Ads
Phone books came every year in December for the year ahead. The ads cost money and it was a big thing to be in the phone book. It was how everyone found what they were looking for.
When people were short, they would sometimes sit on a big phone book to lift them up. In the car, kids at the dinner table, in high chairs.
Come December, when we knew the new phone book would be out soon, a lot of people made Phone Book Christmas Trees. We did this a lot. Tons of glitter. Messy.
How to make a Phone Book Christmas tree.
Glitter Phone Book Christmas Tree
Who Does Not Hang Up On You?
The second-to-the-last verse says:
“Operator, oh, let’s forget about this call
There’s no one there I really wanted to talk to
Thank you for your time
Ah, you’ve been so much more than kind
You can keep the dime”
It was wonderful to hear that soothing female voice on the other end at times, especially when you were scared and waiting for the police or ambulance to arrive. She was someone who would talk to you and not randomly hang up.
I know many of us felt like Jim Croce, only having that voice to validate our existence.
There are plenty of songs, articles, and posts about getting revenge on someone through words.
There might not be any better song than “Death on Two Legs (Dedicated to…)” by Queen on the 1975 A Night at the Opera album.
Death on two legs
Tearing me apart
Death on two legs
You never had a heart (You never did)
Of your own (Right from the start)
Insane, should be put inside
You’re a sewer rat decaying in a cesspool of pride
Should be made unemployed
Then make yourself null and void
Make me feel good (I feel good)
This section is not even the worst of the lyrics. Give a listen for the whole picture.
Warnings Abound
When Googling “Revenge Memoir” a slew of posts and articles come up explaining why revenge memoirs are not the way to go about exacting revenge on someone.
It seems like revenge songs are way more common. They would be fun to sing, wouldn’t they?
Queen’s “Death on Two Legs (Dedicated to…)” was about their first manager, Norman Sheffield, who swirled in Queen’s money while they were still broke. While Sheffield’s name or job was not mentioned, Sheffield outed himself by suing Queen for defamation. They settled out of court and Sheffield, many years later, wrote Life on Two Legs: Set the Record Straight where, of course, he denied stealing from Queen.
What I Wish I Could Write
There are plenty of people in my life, including midwives, who I wish I could write trash about. Sadly, I doubt that will ever happen. If I do write about my midwifery life, the bitches will be composites and while they can’t know for absolute sure, they will know who they are by their own words still floating around trying to stab me and polluting their own air.
That felt good.
(And yes I know my own words affect me, but they are inside even if you don’t see or hear them and writing them outside is a release. Of sorts. I’ll accept the consequences.)
I got the notice that Roger had arrived, but when I checked my doorstep, it was empty. I looked the 1/8 mile up to the mailbox and saw the box hanging out.
I got dressed, put shoes on, brushed my hair, grabbed my phone in case I fell down and needed help, and began my hike out to the front 40.
Not used to trudging further than to the kitchen, I walked. Rested. Walked. Rested. Cursing Roger the whole way. If there was an Uber that could have picked him up to bring his too-hungover-to-walk-to-the-house-himself Funko, I would have called one. Instead, I had to go pick the yummy idol up m’self (my bad British accent there).
Finally in my arms, Roger’s box (haha, as opposed to allllll the other of Roger’s “boxes“) tucked under my arm, I hiked back to the homestead, again in fits and starts. Again, cussing at Roger for not being sober enough to walk his own ass to his new home.
Roger Finally Joins the Queen Funko Team
Once I caught my breath in the house, the journey became irrelevant as I scissored the box open, opened the Funko box, and tipped Roger out of the clear, hard plastic into my hands.
Queen’s Roger Taylor Funko
Do you see his hooded eyelids? He even looks hungover! If I had sunglasses, I would put them on him because I’m sure the light is a tad much for his brain at the moment.
My Own Funk-Y World
Above, you get to see how my bizarre mind works. I should put these mental shenanigans on paper and make some cash out of it.
Watch Roger’s amazing live performance of his song “I’m in Love With My Car.” It’s the second song in this medley starting with “Killer Queen.”
There have been no dolls in the house since the kids were little and even then, I don’t remember playing with them, making them listen and talk. The last time I remember playing with dolls was with Barbie Dolls. I was about eight before I was “too old” for them.
Queen Funkos Are the Bomb
I am having the best time with my Funko Deacy (John), Freddie, and Brian. I’m still waiting for party-boy Roger to arrive. I talk to them all the time. It’s so funny how easy they are to talk to. Avid listeners, they hold their instruments and Freddie has a grip on his mic. I squint and wonder if Freddie is going to hold his microphone out for me to speak into. He’s not remembering that what I share is kind of private.
(I am so crazy.)
John Deacon, Freddie Mercury, Brian May – Queen Funkos
Writing as Dolls
I have kept journals for decades and suppose I talk to the pages as I am to the dolls, but something feels different. I get up to grab a Diet Coke and ask the boys (for they were boys then; ask Bri) to make sure no one takes my seat. Or I ask them to monitor the phone and let me know if I’m getting a call. I’ve never done that with writing.
With writing, I am talking to myself and then answering myself. In writing, it’s more introspection – just like here in the blog.
Would writing as dolls be all dialogue? Would I ask, then answer?
Freddie and Brian came today and already I am yacking with them about their new song Face It Alone (below) that came out today. Deacy (John), quiet as always, just listens. Roger needs to get here, but he is probably sleeping with some Funko Babe and running late.
Freddie Mercury and Brian May Queen Funkos
I’m the Village Crazy Lady
I really am hilariously nuts.
My Funkos Need Air
People are hollering about my taking the Queen Funkos out of their boxes, but I am not a collector. I want them where I can touch them, hold them, and yes, even talk to them.
Queen dropped a new song this morning. It’s so beautiful!
Queen is credited as the songwriters, but it’s clear Freddie Mercury had a large hand in this beauty. It was written as he was sick with AIDS, knowing he was destined to die. The poignancy is palpable.
As is usual with Queen’s music, and all music for that matter, the meaning of the song shifts depending on the listener. I hear it as a writer’s lament, the solitude of writing, and how the words burn inside, needing to escape.
A new song added to my Queen Meditation Playlist, I shall listen as Freddie, and Queen, sing to me as I write.
Queen: Face It Alone (Lyrics)
Video Below
When something so near and dear to life,
Explodes inside,
You feel your soul,
Is set on fire.
When something so deep and so far and wide,
Falls down beside,
Your cries can be heard,
So loud and clear.
Your life is your own,
You’re in charge of yourself,
Master of your home,
In the end,
In the end,
You have to face it all alone.
When something so dear to your life,
Explodes inside,
You feel your soul,
Is burned alive (burned alive).
When something so deep and so far and wide,
Falls down beside,
Your cries can be heard,
So loud and clear.
Your life is your own,
You’re in charge of yourself,
Master of your home,
In the end,
In the end,
You have to face it alone.
When the moon has lost its glow,
When the moon has lost its glow,
When the moon has, when the moon has lost its glow,
When the moon, when the moon has lost its glow,
You have to face it all alone.
I’m trying to figure out what the heck is going on with my mind. (Is there ever any figuring it out, though?)
The clock is driving me crazy. It feels, quite literally.
That Damn Clock
When the kids were babies, watching the clock was the worst thing I could do. I would look at the clock to see how long I had been asleep before being awakened again to nurse. With Tristan, I would get angry seeing it had only been 15 minutes… or 30… or 50… or even 3 hours. I believed I couldn’t get enough sleep.
Meghann was born when Tristan was 19 months old and I started the same frustrating cycle, feeling my anger rising again. Being angry at a baby isn’t a proper emotion with a newborn/baby/toddler/child especially when it is 100% their innate behavior, so I reached out and asked for help.
Best Parenting Advice Ever
My experienced-in-natural-birth-and-parenting friends had The Solution.
Cover the clocks.
If I did not know how long I had slept, I could stay in the moment and be the mom I wanted to be: present and relaxed.
I’ve since shared that advice hundreds of times, knowing the benefits first-hand.
Meghann sleeping with newborn Gabriella… without a clock.
If There Were No Clocks
If we lived in the wilderness, the jungle, the desert, hundreds/thousands/millions of years ago, we would look to the sun, moon, and seasons for the passage of time. If the sky was covered with clouds, we would be guessing. Nursing moms would look into the eyes of their babies when they cried, not upward to watch the passage of time in a 24-hour day.
“Watch the baby, not the clock,” was a mantra I shared with all new parents.
Clocking the Time
My job requires a clock. I have to know the time a call starts, then look at the work timekeeper to see how long I have been talking. I have to write the time down for each call three times. While I can clock in and out when I want to, I have to “clock” in and “clock” out.
I look at my (now) blue glowing digital clock dozens of times a day for a variety of personal reasons pertaining to health and household needs.
The clock hangs heavy around my neck. Especially the digital one because it does this fluctuating weird shit I can’t explain. Sometimes it glows. Sometimes it’s 3-D. Sometimes it’s flat. Sometimes the numbers float.
I thought when my hallucinations stopped, the clock was going to chill, but it has not. Instead, it’s taken on a new design of continuous motion within its metal container.
Disconcerting doesn’t begin to explain how it feels.
I wish I could cover it. I really wish I could yank the plug and throw it away. I’ve thought about getting a new clock, but the idea of a strange resident is scarier than what I have looking at me right now.
I’ll look outside the window as much as I can.
“Confusion never stops Closing walls and ticking clocks, gonna Come back and take you home I could not stop that you now know, singing”
I came across this beautiful YouTube audio of Brian May playing Freddie Mercury’s “Love of My Life” on his classical guitar set to a wonderful gentle stormy night backdrop.
It’s an hour long – set on constant repeat for me – writing meditation. I thought someone else might benefit from this beauty.
Below the solo guitar is the video of Brian playing in concert while Freddie Mercury sings.
Exquisite.
Thank you, Freddie and Bri.
Thank you so very much.
Love of my life, you’ve hurt me You’ve broken my heart And now you leave me Love of my life, can’t you see?
Bring it back, bring it back Don’t take it away from me Because you don’t know What it means to me
Love of my life, don’t leave me You’ve taken my love (my love) And now desert me Love of my life, can’t you see? (Please bring it back)
Bring it back, bring it back (back) Don’t take it away from me (take it away from me) Because you don’t know (ooh-ooh-ooh know) What it means to me (means to me)
You will remember When this is blown over And everything’s all by the way (ooh) When I grow older (yeah) I will be there at your side (ooh) To remind you how I still love you (to remind you) (I still love you)
Back, hurry back (back, back) Please, bring it back home to me (bring it back home to me) Because you don’t know (ooh-ooh-ooh know) What it means to me (means to me)
“Want some whiskey in your water?
Sugar in your tea?
What’s all these crazy questions they’re askin’ me?
This is the craziest party that could ever be
Don’t turn on the lights ’cause I don’t wanna see”
Clearly, it’s encouraging me to just keep writing.
Everywhere I turn, there is The Message.
“She saw Fancy pressed up against a wall in Leo’s room while a muscular man held his head by the hair and, through gritted teeth said, ‘Spread your legs. I’m gonna fuck you, faggot.’” – In the Bushes/WIP by Barb Herrera
“Write, Barb! No matter how crazy. Just keep writing.”
While I have not seen a Queen concert live since 1978, I have watched as many as exist on YouTube showing the Queen + Paul Rodgers tours beginning in 2005, continuing with the Queen + Adam Lambert tours beginning in 2011.
Being a Queenie, of course I love the following reviews, most taken during a Queen + Adam Lambert tour, and I agree with them wholeheartedly.
Amsterdam
“The show at the Ziggo Dome was nothing short of majestic and overwhelming.”
‘”…a setlist that goes from climax to climax.”
Cologne
“… in the sold-out Lanxess Arena in Cologne, the 51-year-old Queen presented itself breathtakingly vital, and it did not seem that this rocking monarchy with masterfully staged theatricality and glitter pomp is anywhere near its end.”
Berlin
“Champions, that’s what Queen were on that night…the show must go on, and that for years to come, it certainly wouldn’t be a mistake.”
“One could literally see their joy to play in May and Taylor’s eyes.”
Roger Taylor and Brian May – Getty Images
“Queen anthems such as ‘Another One Bites The Dust’, ‘Crazy Little Things Called Love’ and ‘Love Of My Life’ all sounded really fresh…and May happily demonstrated again and again with impressive, but never too long, solos why he and his guitar have created a sound for eternity.”
Birmingham
“Brian and Roger put on an energetic display that would put most younger bands to shame. Cracking gig!! 5 Stars.”
“A wonderful night and a wonderful show. Queen still rock.”
“…an emotional universe and beyond.” 5 Stars
Belfast
“For any Queen fan, this will be the closest thing to a religious experience.”
“Two and a half hours of jaw-dropping spectacle and euphoria.”
“The rock icons blew the roof off the SSE Arena with a simply electrifying performance.”
What I Love
Brian May and Roger Taylor
Knowing the critics can see the joy and love in Bri and Rog’s eyes while they perform propels my continuing to read reviews at all. Queenies can’t be the only ones who get why Queen still performs.
If you have not watched or listened to Queen in awhile, it’s time you do.
Start with the last album they completed before Freddie died, Innuendo. It has become my absolute favorite. I still love Made in Heaven, of course, but Innuendo is incredible.
If you have not discovered Nandi Bushell yet, now is the time. Nandi’s YouTube channel will introduce you to her amazing talents that include incredible drumming, great guitar and bass playing, time on the piano, and now professionally showing us her singing skills.
Not only singing for us to hear, but she is demonstrating her beautiful songwriting talents, too.
Nandi Sings for Her Father
As she tells it, her father fell into a depression earlier this year so she wrote him a song to let him know how loved he is and how he is not alone. What 12 year old understands the depths of depression in a parent so intensely, she writes a love song to him?
“When your fears have taken their toll
When the demons have gotten control
When the shadows won’t leave you alone
I’ll be there
When all your rainbows turned into black
When the sun has turned its back
When all of your power bled itself dry
I’ll be there
For you”
Roger Taylor drops his new double album The Outsider Tour Live today and I love it!
Rog, as he is affectionally called by Brian May and others, is a multi-instrumentalist, singer, songwriter in his own right, and the drummer as well as back-up singer and songwriter for Queen for the last 50 years. Besides his own songs, he’s written such hits as “Radio Ga-Ga,” “I’m in Love With My Car,” “A Kind of Magic,” “The Invisible Man” [which I adore], and more.
As I’ve written, I had a serious crush on Roger Taylor when we were all younger. Cute as fuck, he glows with sexuality and charisma.
Roger is also snarky (exhibited on this album by calling the movie Bohemian Rhapsody, a movie he helped make!, “Bohemian Raspberry” despite professing to love the movie) sarcastic, sometimes very rude, and, at least in his earlier incarnation, quite oversexed. Of course, all of this is based on what people have recorded and shared on YouTube and in the press over the years. So, I could be way off, but suspect he would laugh and nod along with my/their assessment.
22 Tracks & Many Sooooo Good!
What shines through this music is Roger’s kindness towards humanity, usually an obvious trait reserved for Brian May. It is beautiful to hear Roger sing about the pain of domestic violence in “Surrender,” and our collective need to take care of others in “Foreign Sand.”
“As far as we know it’s the only way to be Try to plant a seed, fulfill, the need To make it grow, just say hello And though you’re far from home try to learn what you could be Your heart will tell you everything you need”
These Days…
“These Are the Days of Our Lives,” a song written by Roger for Queen, continues to bring me to tears, knowing where the birth of the song came from. As Freddie was dying, Roger penned this beautiful ballad as a reminder for where they had been and that they were, even in darkness, still all together. It was Freddie’s last recording on camera.
Roger’s solo version remains a beautiful gift for all of us, Freddie included. His voice, perfectly nuanced, pulls the emotion we share with each other into the time we have left and the reminder to stay present, even when things are impossible to accept or understand.
Who Has Control (And What Do We Do About It?)
“Gangsters Are Running This World” illuminates another part of Roger’s gentle consideration of humanity and what it does and should look like.
“I wanna fly on the wings of love I want the clean fresh air in my face I wanna tear down every border and wall I wanna take part in the human race I wanna fly on the wings of love I wanna run down a path of hope I wanna fly on the wings of love
Gangsters are running this world You can shout but never be heard”
This is one of my favorite tracks, one I had not heard before this morning. It’s perfect. A deep ballad with a beat of walking feet that keep moving even with the realization that we don’t have all the control over our destinies. Roger implores us to reach higher than we think we can and not to give up.
Navelgazing Writer 