Electromagnetic Love

A multi orificial elemental nutrient

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Swaddled in a felt pelt for maximum comfort and absorbency.

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

A modern love song singer

The Resurrection of MooMoo

MM was a singer. MM wanted to sing love songs. Both sad and glad. MM had a bit of the 80's sad pop inside. Those melancholy synthesizers and the catastrophe of love. MM knew that the 80's was a cheeseball decade. But MM was a bit of cheeseball, especially about love. MM, when alone, would don a black outfit, mascara and slicked back hair. MM loved that slutty androgynous look that bloomed in the 80's and died so quickly, never to be seen again (outside of a Motley Crue/Soft Cell cover band.)

MM also had a thing for R&B love songs. Toni Braxton, Jodeci, Teddy Pendergass, et al. MM wept with epiphany upon hearing Toni sing, "It's just another sad love song, racking my brain like crazy." But MM also smiled obscenely when Jodeci sang, "Come and talk to me I really wanna know your name…."

Alone in an apartment MM sang love songs. MM had to close the curtains because the scene was pretty pathetic. A grown person crying while singing old songs being played on Lite FM. But MM was a singer. And singers do three things: rehearse, perform and live the lush life. MM did two of those things well. MM practiced with verve and relentless determination. And MM lived the lush life with aplomb. It was the performance that was lacking in MM's troika of singerhood.

Rumors abounded about why MM would not perform. Some said it was because MM was no good. Some said it was because MM was scared. Others said it was because MM was not with the times. Still others said it was because MM had a terrible secret that precluded performance singing.

MM tried as hard as possible to rectify the situation. MM auditioned for bands that posted crude fliers in the back of slacker coffee shops. MM's desire to sing love songs in a style that blended 80's synth melancholia with melodic R&B did not go over well. Nor did MM's heavy use of mascara and eyeliner. Then MM put together a demo tape and sent it out to agents and record labels. 98 out of 100 demo tapes did not garner a response. The two that responded used sentences like, "nice voice, wrong millennium," and "the kids don't do love anymore."

MM was taught to believe that if you follow your heart good things will follow. But the only things following MM were jealousy and despair. For a singer without an audience is like a Peep in a microwave. The forces that cause the singer to expand are sealed in a box, and instead of showering others with musical joy, the solitary singer explodes against empty plastic walls.

Then MM had a visit from an old hustler. This was a person who used to creep around the neighborhood. The hustler was working down in Miami for a while then crept back in to town. MM confessed to the hustler the dilemma – the inability to create a connection so that love could flow from MM out to the world.

The hustler leaned back in a chair and considered a minute: "A hustler hustles, nothing more."

MM heard this wisdom. It seeped into the marrow. It was obvious. If MM was going to perform, MM was going to have to perform. Then the hustler tried to sell MM a Mercedes for cheap. MM did not want a Mercedes. MM wanted a van, big enough to hold a band. The hustler told MM that this could be arranged, give the hustler a week to come up with a nice van for..."What's the band's name?"

MM thought about it a moment, "Thin Line."

MM put together a flyer advertising the formation of Thin Line. Musicians interested in reclaiming the love song for the modern world were asked to audition at noon that Sunday. The flyer claimed that Thin Line was a group dedicated to "music that chokes hate, weeps love, cannot forget and has got to hit that."

Musicians responded. Not the typical talentless hipster hacks who thrashed about like momma was withholding love and the world owed them sex. But rather, 'bitter classical music program' drop outs who desperately wanted to play music for money. Any kind of money. MM put together a band. It had one guitar, one bass, one synth, one drum, one sax, one tambourine and one singer.

MM demanded heart, soul and a pound of flesh as well from the band. The band bitched. The band fought. The saxophonist had to be replaced by a clarinetist with a rented alto sax. MM had big dreams. Literally. MM dreamed of a lost highway, a forgotten seaside resort, a deluxe old ballroom and a band that recalled the true terror of love.

MM knew what motivated musicians – money, sex and the lush life. To provide those things for the band, MM turned sleazy manager. MM called bars, clubs and theaters. MM demanded that people listen. MM lied, wheedled and cajoled. Not that much happened, but MM did get Thin Line booked in this dingy cabaret nightclub – a god-forsaken refuge for musical theater detritus.

Thinking messianically, MM did not scoff at such an offer. She merely beat her band harder. They whined like only musicians can. Musician whining can break glass, it is well known. MM needed one good hour of music. A sixty-minute set, no breaks, no mistakes. Was that so goddamn hard? MM asked this at practices that lurched into the next day with beer no longer cold.

Thin Line got booked for a Tuesday evening. Worst evening of the week. (Monday was not considered an evening as everything was closed.) Thin Line was to play on a stage built in the 1920's for a two-piece band accompanying a slow moving burlesque artist. Thin Line was to follow an a cappella group of ex-junkies who sang about dirty deeds done in alleyways.

MM filled the place. MM could get about 150 people to show up if every threat, plea and lie were used. MM put 150 people in that room. The crowd was loud, boisterous and thirsty. The crowd applauded the ex-junkie a cappella group. The crowd bought the drug-addicted songsters cigarettes and coffee after the show. A DJ came on while Thin Line set up its instruments. The crowd buzzed, milled and wondered. Was Thin Line going to be worth going out on a Tuesday night?

The DJ stopped. The house lights dimmed. The sound was only shuffling of feet. From the wings climbed Thin Line. They packed compactly onto the small stage. MM was hit by a spot light. MM wore a black outfit, mascara and long eyelashes. Was MM a boy or a girl? The first moaning notes that softly swelled the room did not answer the question.

MM had known for a long time that when the first notes were played, the first line sung, the song could only be one song: "Another Sad Love Song." Written by Babyface and Daryl Simmons, executed brilliantly by Toni Braxton, MM knew there was perhaps no better homage to that thin line between love and hate than this song.

The band exhaled a deep African beat, a syncopation that was music by itself. It rippled through the crowd, spiraled through people's bodies and all began to move. Then moaned 80's pop synth notes. It conjured in the crowd a remembrance of things past, a feverish nostalgia. Then the saxophone muscled in, a bridge, an invitation to either joy or despair.

MM leaned into the standup mike and let it go:

"Since you been gone
I been hangin’ around here lately
With my mind messed up.
Jumped in my car tried to clear my mind
Didn’t help me…
I guess I’m all messed up now baby."

Thin Line did it faster than Toni's version, hoppier, an homage really. MM moaned it. An alone and palely loiterer searching for an 80's English beat. The crowd swayed. The crowd remembered again what a catastrophe love can be.

And the crowd recalled too what life can be: A wanting love song between birth and death.

Even before the hook started, MM began to cry. The crowd gaped at this weeping apparition in a spotlight on a creaky stage in a musty club. Some of them began to weep too. For it all came out of Thin Line then – ecstasy and agony.

MM stepped into the hook. The band began to sweat, the crowd began to roar and even the decrepit owner in the corner smiled for the first time in 35 years (so it was said…)

"It’s just another sad love song
Rackin’ my brain like crazy
Guess I’m all torn up.
Be it fast or slow
It doesn’t let go
Or shake me…
And it’s all because of you."


Sunday, April 18, 2004

Match the Crazy Pet with its Unstable Owner.

Below are a list of pets and owners. If you match them correctly it might be time to get a new pet.

Pets:

  1. A three legged cat with a penchant for eating moths. Likes to sit next to front door of people across the way. People across the way are creeped out by cat. Cat once defenestrated from second story window while lunging for a juicy moth. Shaken but unhurt, cat's behavior has required the purchase and installation of impact resistant window screens.

  2. A mixed breed dog who enjoys eating itself when bored. Scared of and tries to bite the following: fireworks, buses, overweight grandmothers. Once tunneled way out of backyard, severely injuring eye in the process. Constant vet bills due to self-injury have necessitated purchasing health insurance for dog with low deductible. Enjoys running away and barking while dreaming.

  3. A variegated pastel female bird who hates females of any species. She conversely loves males of any species. The sweatier the better. If she sees a sweaty guy she flies right onto him. Then prances up and down his shoulders cooing. She goes from guy to guy with a flutter, never thinking about anybody else. Except females of course. When she encounters another female of any species she tries to peck their eyes out. A bit of a problem for the owner, requiring frequent confinement and a retainer with a lawyer specializing in naughty pets.

  4. A turtle who yearns for things a day trip away. Turtle is never satisfied sitting in a box eating its gourmet turtle pellets. Every waking minute turtle tries to get out of box. When let out of box turtle fixates on something at the other end of the apartment and begins to lumber to it. Unfortunately turtle averages about a room a day so never achieves objective. Also is stymied by anything that gets in its way, like a table leg or an electrical cord. Wanting the unachievable is communicable to others, who always pick him up and lift him over to what he wants. But once at the object of his interest, turtle turns and finds something else to wander toward.

  5. A supposedly crime fighting pig who in fact just wants to eat people's faces off. This pig was raised since it was a piglet in with a suburban family. Once a couple of pounds it now weighs over three hundred. One day it scared off a burglar and the news cameras showed up to do a story on the crime fighting pig. But in reality the pig just wanted to eat the burglar's face off. The pig wants to eat the face off anybody. But nobody has let it. Yet.



Owners:



A) A nonprofit administrator with an obsession with the fertilizer potential of pet poop. This person constantly thinks about pet poop properties when their pet takes a poop. Why not use pet poop to fertilize gardens and parks? This person has developed plans for municipal pet composting centers. Here people who collect pet poop can come and get 10 cents a pound while contributing to the fecundity of municipal greenery.

B) A parent of four children in a single parent household. This person believes that every member of the household should be ranked and updated rankings should be made public every Monday morning. Household rankings include pets. Those with higher ranking receive the first pick of food, recreation and sleeping arrangements. Those with low rankings must sleep outside and clean carpet stains.

C) A lawyer who loves their pet so much they have no other friends. Lawyers have few friends to begin with, but this pet-owning lawyer is so overwhelmed by their pet that they do nothing but spend time with it Picture of pet sits on this person's desk. Picture of pet has been put on a well worn T-shirt. Person typically smells like pet. Person constantly day dreams about escaping the rat race, buying an old VW van and traveling the world with pet.

D) A restaurant manager from Wichita who only dates people their pet approves of. Potential daters must stand in a room alone with pet and begin to sing a Mariah Carey song. If pet retreats and feigns sleep, dating does not commence. This person also forces new hires at restaurant to memorize and recite on demand salient facts related to pet. These include, what is pet's favorite TV show, pet's least favorite neighbor and pet's romantic history.

E) A librarian in a major metropolitan area. Presently writing a novel in verse starring pet. This requires researching pet's movements for days at a time. This has necessitated the installation of an expensive, omnipresent video surveillance system. This person reviews tape late at night and has recently begun to consider abandoning novel in verse idea. Instead this person wants to edit down the thousands of hours of surveillance footage into a reality show starring pet. Tentative title: Nap, Poop, Eat: The Sam saga.

Please match the owners with their pets in the comments section. Winners will be announced shortly. Winners receive a gift certificate to a posh pet accessory store in Hollywood, CA.