Tagged again?!

Yours truly in black and the usual dark glasses at brunch with my gal pals from Zoetrope writers' workshop (and one of their husbands)...and those usually responsible for these tags.

I wasn't going to blog today; I really need to finish my novel so I can get back to a few agents who are querying me. But my good friend Myfanwy (who is not in the above photo, damn it, because she was unavailable that day) tagged me and I couldn't resist.

So once again, some fun facts about me that you probably already know if we're friends or if you are a regular reader here (is there such a thing?)...

Seven things to do before I die:
1. Write at least ten more novels which are not considered mainstream but are financially successful nonetheless;
2. Go back to England for an extended period of time;
3. Learn how to update my website myself;
4. Visit Italy;
5. Learn how to throw a pot (meaning, I’d like to take a pottery class);
6. Have all the rooms in my house clean at the same time (yeah, like that’ll happen any time soon);
7. Be around long enough to see how my kids turn out as adults.

Seven things I cannot do:
1. Go on amusement rides;
2. Be in the presence of religious zealot right-winger/Republicans;
3. Drive without hitting something or being pulled over by a cop. (So I don’t have a license. And the world is a much safer place)
4. Listen to rap music;
5. Sing on key; (or so I’m told by my kids. I personally think I sound great. Just this morning I wailed (You Make Me Feel Like A) Natural Woman in the shower and I made all the neighborhood dogs bark in utter joy.)
6. Stop worrying;
7. Respect anyone who watches/enjoys American Idol.

Seven things I say:
1. Does anyone need anything at the store?
2. Why didn’t you tell me you needed that when I asked if you needed anything before I went to the store?
3. I seriously wish you’d leave me alone;
4. I’m sooo hungry;
5. Bush is a dickhead;
6. Please don’t try and censor me;
7. Yeah, okay, I’ll do it. (When I really mean no and won’t)

Seven books I love:
1. Catcher in the Rye;
2. A Clockwork Orange;
3. A Prayer for Owen Meany;
4. High Fidelity;
5. Ham on Rye;
6. Fear of Flying;
7. Smoke and Mirrors (which is of course by Neil Gaiman, and here’s today’s twisted moment…though it’s not twisted at all, only if you are me and planning on printing it out, making a mask, and super-glue-ing it to your significant other's face while he’s asleep.)

(That's a photo of Neil in his bedroom, by the way...which he posted on his own blog yesterday, really to show us his new painting but I think it's more like to torture us with that new sexy beard)

Seven movies that I've loved:
1. Rock School;
2. A Clockwork Orange;
3. A Hard Days Night;
4. King of Hearts;
5. Monty Python and the Holy Grail;
6. Sideways;
7. The Last Waltz.

It appears that I am the last of my “group” to be tagged and I have no idea which seven people I should hit next, so if you want to play on your own blog, feel free. Just remember to give me credit. Wait, this isn't like a chain letter where I'm going to die in a horrific accident if I don't send it on, is it?

Oh well. Hope not.

Later..
xo

Dark side of the moon...

Robin Trower

Lawrence Welk

So, class...today's question is: What do Robin Trower and Lawrence Welk have in common?

Answer: Absolutely nothing.

In my world, however, they represent a true Dark Side of the Moon/Wizard of Oz moment.

Last night, I was working on my novel. Okay, I wasn't writing in my journal or sitting at the computer, I was basically writing in my head. Every author has their own way of doing things, and I've never been one for outlines or anything structured at all, really. I'm jealous of people so organized, but it just doesn't work that way for me. I daydream and get an idea for a story, let my mind wander and flesh out the characters, and by the time I sit down and write, I've got it all pretty much figured out. And because I'm a music nut, while I'm doing this "head writing", I always have something inspiring on in the background, which really helps my thought process further.

I was in a Robin Trower mood last night, bigtime. Quick music history lesson: Trower was the original guitarist for Procol Harum. (Meanwhile, I cannot believe how cheesy Procol Harum's website is...what's up with that?) If you want to hear some really interesting stuff, check out their early albums with Trower on guitar. Of course, A Salty Dog is a fucking classic, but listen to the Broken Barricades CD, particularly the cut Song for a Dreamer...and I dunno, maybe it's just me, but his guitar playing makes my soul rise and it bothers me that he's never mentioned in the Guitar Gods discussions/articles I come across.

Trower left Procol Harum and went solo. He's amazing, though I guess, yeah, I know, it's stoner music -- very spacey -- I can't listen to it without smelling pot smoke in the basement -- but anyway, that's what I was listening to last night and at the same time, I had the television on with the sound off. It was the PBS channel, and on Saturday nights, they broadcast reruns of the old Lawrence Welk show. Terrible, terrible stuff. Accordian players, tap dancers, and gruesome late sixties-early seventies hair and fashion horrors. You can tell that blow dryers were new on the scene - the men are wearing their hair like Peter Noone of Herman's Hermits...poufy and cut over their ears...and the women all look like they're part of some weird Florence Henderson/Mary Tyler Moore cult in pastel mini-dresses and glazed over eyes which give out those "I HAVE BEEN SAVED!" vibes.

Just as Trower launches into this totally psychedelic guitar solo, I look at the t.v. and there's a whole choir of Welk people, men dressed in pink tuxedos with pink ruffly shirts and the aforesaid poufy hair. And they're singing and swaying in perfect synchronicity to the Trower solo with the aforesaid glazed over eyes. Trower starts shredding and out comes the accordian player, and he's really into it, he's shaking his heiney with that thing and tossing his helmet hair and I start giggling because he's wiggling that butt in perfect time with Trower, too, and then, the tap dancer comes out and I swear to god, that's when Trower's drummer went into a solo.

Total Dark Side of the Moon/Wizard of Oz moment. If you don't know what I mean, look it up. Oh hell, here's a link for you.

So after I stopped laughing, I shut off the television, continued listening to Trower, and actually thought out a couple more chapters which I'm busy typing up now. Okay, so I'm taking a break to write this, but I'm going back to my novel in a minute.

Give Trower a listen if you're not already hip to him, okay?

In other news, I just learned that my publisher has sent Three Days in New York City, Leigh Ellwood's Truth or Dare and Devi Sparks' Fairy Godlover to the acquisitions department at Borders Books for consideration. Three Days in NYC is available at some brick and mortar stores, but not Borders, and it would be great if this happens, especially with the sequel coming out. So that's pretty cool.

And I got an invitation to join something called Philly Writers. So I did.

Finally, the moment you are all waiting for -- today's twisted Neil Gaiman fact: He wears black long underwear. Says so in his journal post of February 18. Thanks for sharing, Neil.

I mean that sincerely.

Later,
xo

Whew....

Photo of Eric taken in LA last month at the Mark and Brian Show, KLOS Radio. I don't remember if I posted this pic before or not, but wtf, I love it so here it is again.

ETA: I'm such a dork. I had the wrong link for my favorite new "brilliant" place on the web. I've corrected it below. No wonder the website looked so nondescript...it was the wrong freaking one! If you visited this blog earlier, I apologize...I'm making this correction at 5:35 p.m. Now go click on the link...here...I'll put one up now and you will realize I haven't lost my mind altogether.

Wow. What a crazy couple of days. I'm sort of glad to have the house to myself this weekend and am happy to say I'm progressing nicely with the new novel. Finally. Both Eric and Julie will be at Downingtown Rock School tonight to see Eric's girlfriend, Carolyn, perform in her last D-team show so if you're looking for something cool to do this evening, I highly recommend that concert - you can find details here; Julie as usual is working at Rembrandts during the day today and all day/early evening tomorrow; Eric then begins rehearsals on Monday for his up-coming tour with Project Object, and then on February 24 (which I cannot believe is six days from now -- where the hell is time going?), he'll be behind the drums with the Shannon Penn Band at World Cafe Life (click here to buy tickets). This is an all ages show so it would be cool if Eric's friends would come to the concert this Friday night and support him.

Okay, enough about the kiddies -- I'm going upstairs to write.

Oh wait, I know what else. A story of mine is nominated for a Million Writers Award. I don't know the guy who nominated me so Ken Tritoni, whoever you are, thank you! I spent this morning reading some of the other nominations and man, I'd hate to be a judge in this contest. There's some remarkable short fiction on that list, and if you want to spend a few totally enjoyable hours, click on the links provided on the Million Writers site.

One more thing. Hopefully by now, you've all discovered and are in love with this website. If you haven't, don't be fooled by its non-descript appearance. It's one of the most brilliant finds of 2006 for me, anyway, other than what's become my own private radio station. Ha ha. If the government is keeping tabs on the music I select and the websites I visit each day, I am in BIG TROUBLE.

Like I give a shit.

Later...
xo

Odds and Sods for Friday, February 17

Yeah! Ellen Meister got her ARCS (advance review copies) of her book yesterday! Aren't they gorgeous?

So also yesterday I got an e-mail from my agent, Britta Steiner Alexander, who has "decided to leave the agenting business". She wrote me a dear and generous note which made me feel really great about my writing and well, myself in general. So I'm considering other agents at the moment and wish Britta the best in her new endeavors.

Then I got the exciting news that Ellen has received her ARCS...and I'm so thrilled for her, it's almost like I wrote the book. Ha! I wish! It's an amazing novel, and though I did get a chance to read the original manuscript, it was so incredible I opted not to finish it and instead wait for the HARDCOVER -- yep, hardcover, version to come out this August. It almost killed me, it was impossible to put down, and then it got even more difficult when Ellen read a chapter I hadn't read yet at a party last June thrown in her honor by her fabulous husband Mike. I was dying to find out what happened next, but there's something about getting a brand new book...and the fact that it's written by one of my closest writer pals...well, I had to exercise uncharacteristic restraint but I managed. At least I have so far...

Well, anyway, that's all for now. I'm determined to have a productive day writing, and I'm starting out by listening to some Patti Smith on my iPod.

But I'm thinking I could also use something really pretty to look at right now, too, so I give up, I admit it, here it is -- my daily twisted tribute to Neil Gaiman:


Ah, all better now.

Just kidding. But hey, he posts these photos on his blog, nine million people read it per day, so I'm guessing he won't mind if I steal them. Tsk tsk...he's trying to kill all of us poor women, isn't he?

Later,
xo

Oh my god!

Okay, this has got to be a dream and I'm really asleep, right?

Sorry...I know I'm supposed to be upstairs writing, but I just found a review online of the Philadelphia Poets and Writers Festival kick-off two weeks ago in which I read my "hilarious" story about meeting author Neil Gaiman...and oh my god, I'm blushing!

Here's the link!

You have to scroll down a bit....oh, what the hell, I'm so excited, let me cut and paste the applicable part here anyway:

"...Finally, Robin Slick, novelist and former editor of Philadelphia Stories Magazine, discussed her first novel, Three Days in New York City. The sequel to this novel, Another Bite of the Apple, will be available soon. Instead of reading a portion of her novel, Robin treated the audience to a mini memoir, sharing her experiences of feeling like “a dork” while attending a reading and book signing with her twenty-something rock star son. Her memoir brought this otherwise mundane event to life. It was witty, riddled with humor, and true to life. The audience felt the simultaneous thrill of meeting a writer she admired and the utter mortification of her son being forced to endure his mother’s actions as an adoring fan. The Poets and Writers Festival Kickoff ended with a series of questions and answers with the panel of Philadelphia Stories’ editors and contributors...."

Okay. Today has gotten significantly better, and yes, yes, yes, I've knocked out three newly revised chapters of my thrice revised novel!

Later..

xo

The best day ever, huh.

Not quite. Maybe that horoscope was off by day? But at least I didn't get any rejections; just no acceptances. Sometimes when I submit a lot of work I feel like it's all going into a giant black hole. I check my e-mail seventeen times a day...argh...but that's it; today I am limiting my on line time altogether and sitting upstairs with my fountain pen and Neil Gaiman autographed Moleskin journal (ha ha - how many days did you think would pass before I brought that up again) and I'm going to work like a demon on my novel....no more procrastinating with short stories, instant messaging, or the obsessive e-mail thing. As of today, I am through thinking about anything other than finishing my book and sending it off.

But it's been an awfully good week for my friend Myfanwy Collins. She's the author I gave a teaser about a few days ago but now that she's announced it in her own blog, I can do the same: One of her incredible, incredible stories has been accepted for publication in the Kenyon Review and will appear in the summer 2007 issue. If you're not familiar with Myfanwy's stories, Google her and prepare to be mesmerized.

And here's something else that made me smile:



That's my handsome son, Eric, and his beautiful girlfriend, Carolyn, posing for me in my living room prior to their Valentine dinner out last night at Bistro St. Tropez. Don't they look awesome? Anyway, if you are in the Philadelphia area and have never eaten there, you really need to pay a visit, preferrably at night when it's dark, because the view of the river is spectacular and inside is all done up in high tech colored lights and chrome. But it's the food that's really incredible -- have a look at the menus and take the virtual tour on the site. What's really fun about this restaurant is that unless you live in Philadelphia or have a friend who knows about it, you'll never find it and it's one of our best kept secrets. It's hidden on the fourth floor of the Marketplace Design Center in a basically deserted part of town -- in between Center City and University City right before you approach the bridge over the river which will take you to said University City -- at 2400 Market Street. So in essence, if you go at night, you walk into what looks like a closed office building, but once inside, because it is the design center, you are treated to many (closed) stores -- it's like the world's most upscale mall -- full of the most beautiful and obscenely expensive furniture, rugs, artwork -- because this is a place only open during the day to interior designers. I could window shop in there for hours and we all know I hate shopping, but the stuff in there is to die for. I once spent a half hour with my face pressed to a window, coveting a bed. (Okay, keep your smutty thoughts to yourself...ha ha...or not, whatever). Anyway, you walk past a few of these stores, make a right to go on what is just one fairly hidden elevator, take it to the fourth floor, and there is this jewel of a restaurant.

So they had a blast -- and they got to both eat the filet mignon I mentioned yesterday I wished I was going to eat -- Eric had an appetizer of wild mushrooms with truffle oil (he's come a long way since potato chip and ketchup sandwiches on white bread) and I think Carolyn had tuna tartare but she didn't know it was raw fish...I'm gonna have to check with Eric on that...I don't remember if she actually ordered it or not but she was grossed out talking about it...oh wait, now I remember, she ordered prawns which she loved, and then they had this molten chocolate dessert with homemade banana ice cream -- it was one of those hot chocolate flourless cakes and when you stuck your fork in, all this warm runny imported chocolate poured out.

Ah, nice to be young, beautiful and in love, huh.

Speaking of Eric, he has a new gig which is really cool. He's going to be working at New York City Rock School every Thursday as assistant director of their Frank Zappa program. What's nice about this is that New York Rock School Zappa is going to open for Project Object when they play New York City, so Eric will not only be running the opening act, he'll be drumming for the headliner.

By the way, Paul is quoted, with photos, in the current issue of Rolling Stone. I posted a link to the on-line version, but the actual hard copy has photos. I heard it's the cover story but I haven't seen the mag yet so I can't say for sure...I'm gonna pick it up today or tomorrow.

Yeah yeah, it's hard for me to disconnect and move on -- while I'm thrilled for Paul, I'm sad my kids are graduates; especially with all the exciting stuff going on, like the recent tour with Adrian Belew. But hey, as I posted here a few days ago, in the article which was published in the Washington Post they do mention that Paul brought in his graduates (Julie, Eric, Louie Graff, etc.) to jam with Adrian to show him the magnitude of talent coming out of his school, and who knows, maybe some of them will have the chance to work with Adrian in the future in the studio or on tour. Hey, stranger things have happened!

But on the other hand, we were there at the beginning, when Paul had seventeen students whom he taught in his apartment and he used to call me the day of a show, begging me to bake brownies to sell so we could break even on the rent he had to pay for the venue. And the Memorial Day barbecues, Saturday morning Rock School baseball/basketball/football games where all the kids and parents bonded (though I do remember a miserable Eric who hated all sports and just wanted to hang out on the sidelines with the grown-ups and an overly competitive Julie who was actually booted out of games by Paul (and rightfully so) and forced to go sit with the parents when she threw tantrums on the field when other players on her team didn't live up to her expectations -- heh -- some things never change), and the insane Christmas parties where we had to use toilet paper as napkins because we were all so disorganized. Now, with thousands of students nationwide, a CEO, an ambitious franchise plan, it's a whole different ballgame. So we got the best of Rock School as it was growing; the kids today are getting the fruits of Paul's (and the original seventeen families') hard work and dedication. It all evens out in the end.

Just like life.

Hopefully, that is.

Okay, this time I mean it. Upstairs I go, journal and fountain pen in hand.

Later...
xo

Happy Valentines Day

That's me on the left. No, wait, sorry, I'm the one on the right.

Oh okay, I'm the one hiding under the bed.

So have I mentioned I hate Valentines Day?



It's just another of those stupid Hallmark holidays.



And I can't eat chocolate this year so it really totally sucks.

Yeah, so it's just no fun anymore. Julie and Eric are always dieting and Julie announced she is now a vegetarian though she does eat seafood and the occasional chicken breast so let's just say she's given up beef and pork and leave it at that.

I could go for a filet mignon for dinner but there are two things standing in my way (1) My grill is completely covered in snow and so is my backyard and to eat steak that isn't barbecued but broiled in a conventional oven or worse, pan fried, is a travesty; and (2) I'd rather starve than eat out on a special occasion night at a restaurant. Actually...



Also, both Matt and Julie agreed their past weekend in Montreal was their Valentine celebration (three days at the Ritz Carlton and eating at the best French restaurants...yeah, I'd say so), so Matt will be teaching bass as usual tonight at Downingtown Rock School and Julie will be waitressing at Rembrandts, where she will be busting her ass for the aforesaid holiday diners. And Eric has a very special surprise date planned for Carolyn, so...

Sob...

There I go remembering the old days again, when we used to get both kids huge fancy hearts filled with chocolate from Young's, a candy store in existence since the turn of the century on Girard Avenue in Philadelphia where they still make their own candy and hand fill the boxes one by one. When Oprah Winfrey was in town filming Beloved, before she was skinny, mentally well-adjusted Oprah, she used to send her assistant over to Young's to stock up on goodies.

Anyway, Julie and Eric used to get so excited on Valentines Day I'm getting depressed remembering...but watching them with their current significant others and how loving they are...every once in a while I realize I'm not a complete fuck-up and did something right with those two.

Oh well. I've decided I'm going to be happy today.

Even my horoscope, which is from the most dead on site I've ever discovered (well, okay, I didn't discover it, Ellen Meister did), said today I'm having the best day ever so who am I to disagree.

I will let you know.

Hey wait: Something cool did just happen! As I've been broadcasting, Eric is going on tour with Project Object as their new drummer this spring, and here's the first advertised show! They'll be at Martyrs in Chicago on April 22.

How exciting, I've never been to Chicago, maybe I'll fly out there for this one:

TICKETS AVAILABLE THROUGH:

(800) 594-TIXX Saturday, Apr 22 - 10pm - $17
Project/Object featuring Ike Willis performing the music of Frank Zappa

The members of PROJECT/OBJECT feel that Frank Zappa is one of the 20th Century's greatest and most important composers, and they are on a mission to bring his music to the masses by faithfully recreating the live Zappa experience.

"As former Zappa collaborators Ike Willis (guitar/vocals) and Napoleon Murphy Brock (sax/flute/vocals) took to the stage, the performance became as much a revival as a tribute." - Creative Loafing

Zappa repeatedly said his music was to be experienced live, and the band promises to deliver. Every night will be an intriguing mix of classic Zappa. You can count on hearing a lot of material from Ike Willis and Napoleon Murphy Brocks era with Zappa, a lot of other Mothers and Zappa material, as well as new Zappa tunes that Project/Object has never played before. No two set lists will be identical and fans will once again experience the classic and obscure in the same night. "It's incredible to me that over 10 years have passed since Zappa's death," says Cholmondeley. "What's even more incredible is that we continue to turn on new generations to his unmatched genius. My goal is to keep on honoring Frank. I still remember the family's answering machine shortly after his death. Just play his music if you're musicians, and otherwise, play his music anyway. That will be enough for him."

Ike Willis (1978-88) is one of Zappa''s most durable and beloved sidemen, whose soulful vocal hysterics are best remembered as the voice of Joe on the Joe's Garage rock opera trilogy. He toured the world six times with the maestro and was the voice of his music for 14 years on countess recordings, many still unreleased...

So that's pretty fantastic. Okay, bring on the rest of the good news...

Later,
xo

Monday, Monday

Photo taken by Eric Slick yesterday -- I still can't believe that's our backyard. I've never seen that happen before -- so much snow, the trees looking like that. It's so cool I can't stop staring out the back doors. Doesn't my snow covered smoker grill look like a snowman? I should go out there and stick on a pickle nose and maybe two tennis balls for eyes (since I took a quick look around and in the frig and am sad to report that's about it in this house right now for what I can use that no one will yell at me for putting outside in the cold and wet).

Or maybe I should just forget that plan and take the dog out for a long, long walk down by the Art Museum where I am bound to get into less trouble and have a better time.

So Julie made it back okay from Montreal. She said it was only a seven hour drive, and that was in the snow, so I can't believe I've never even attempted a Canadian visit myself before. Julie also remarked it was really, really cool -- kind of like driving to Europe -- parts reminded her of Newcastle and Manchester in the UK...and she finally got to use her eight years of French in Quebec. She brought her Dad back two really cool CDs you can't find here - Hendrix out-takes, and as for me, well, I got two dozen bagels.

Yeah, I know.

Actually, I love bagels, and who would have thought Montreal is famous for them? They are way less yeasty and therefore way less fattening than our version...when I toasted a sesame version this morning it was almost like eating a cracker. Very, very good.

But now I'm starving and could probably eat another four, but I keep thinking of the blood pressure doctor and those extra meds and I guess if I'm smart I'll do 100 jumping jacks instead and walk the dog as mentioned above.

So two very exciting announcements coming up for two friends of mine in the writing world...one who just signed a "significant" deal with Viking Press for a short story collection...yeah -- you read that right -- significant deal for short stories -- yeah!!!!...and the other who will have a story of hers appear in one of the most prestigious literary magazines in the world. But because I'm superstitious and should let my friends make their own announcements first, anyway, I'm just throwing in these teasers and don't bother writing to me, I will not spill any more details. But watch this space!

I've been on an insane submissions tear the last couple of weeks and will probably be slashing my wrists shortly. Ha ha. Just kidding. About the wrists, that is. But yeah, I've been writing and subbing like a madwoman...but mostly short stuff and one essay.

In the meantime, it's back to work on my novel. There's no new music news for either kid at the moment though things are in the works, but as for now, Julie is at Drexel through the evening with classes and a recording project; Eric teaches drums today/tonight, and tomorrow both kids are involved with Valentines Day so that means two straight days of solitude and writing for me.

Could be worse...

Later,
xo

Snow!

Wow. We have over a foot of snow in downtown Philadelphia already and we're still in white out conditions.

Monty adores this weather so I let him out and took a few shots of him and a photo of what's going on in my back yard right now.

I'm in full mother panic mode because yep, Julie is leaving Montreal in a few hours and she's got to head back home through upstate New York to get here and they are getting the worst of this storm later this morning.

Eric is bummed because Carolyn slept over last night and the two of them are supposed to be starring in a music video being filmed at noon but unless the shoot is all paid for and all of the "players" are in downtown Philly, they aren't going anywhere. I can't even see my front steps from the time a half hour ago I took those pics of Monty until now.

Right now they are sitting here in the living room with me and I'm like "Don't you want to go out and play in this? Can I give you guys some money to have breakfast out?"

"No".

Oh well. I guess I should be good mom and offer to make pancakes or something, huh.


I'll be back...
xo

Sigh...

More art from Bill Saunders. Thank God I have something to make me happy today.

Yeah, this wasn't one of my better days. Julie and Matt left for their holiday in Montreal at 2:00 a.m. and I love Julie so much, but she felt the need to wake me before leaving and I couldn't fall back asleep. I was worried about the two of them driving to Canada in the middle of the night; I was worried about the approaching snow storm; I'm worried as I sit here now because I just heard we may have twelve inches by Sunday night and then it's moving north and that's when and from where they're driving home.

Conversely, I am also very happy about the snow. Playing with the dog outside when we have a substantial amount is one of the simple pleasures of my life. And now that I no longer have to walk to work in it, I'm back to being a kid again and I get all excited when I hear we may be having a blizzard.

But today really did suck..

I started out by seeing my doctor who told me my blood pressure had soared again and wants me to double my meds, which means I'm going to be a complete zombie. So I went online and have been studying hypertension all day, and in between being positive I'm going to die, I've been realizing what an idiot I am because I hate to exercise and I hate to diet and if I would just walk a couple miles a day, join a gym, and give up white sugar and coffee and fried food, I might not need meds at all. Because I'm extremely worried that if I do need to double them, I'm going to end up seriously fucked because they really affect my creativity and writing in general.

So that's the plan. And I am doing yoga. I just need those people to stop chanting. I can't handle the chanting. I need to sneak in my iPod. But then I won't hear what the instructor is telling us to do, and she'll make an example of me when I fuck up, just like in every exercise type class I've ever been in, starting with first grade at Julia Ward Howe elementary school.

"What do you mean you can't do a push-up, Robin?"

"I can't!"

"Everyone can do a push-up! You're not trying!"

Okay, if you say so. I still can't do a push-up. Or it's evil twin, the chin-up.

"Where's your gymsuit, Robin? What? You don't like wearing one piece periwinkle blue bloomers which snap all the way up to your neck and have your name embroidered in big white letters across your tits? What, you think you can wear your black hippie clothes in here?"

And then they made us square dance. Good lord. I was a senior in high school in the freaking seventies and they still made us square dance with each other. And in those bright blue bloomers. The guys had gym in a separate room but for square dancing, they were allowed to join us. They had to wear thin white shorts and white t-shirts.

Err...you can just imagine. They had it worse than we did, for sure. Because we noticed everything.

But our bloomers were ridiculous. If you had to pee, you had to unsnap the entire thing and get naked in a girls' communal bathroom (you know I never wore a bra and yeah, yeah, we all noticed who had big boobs and who had tiny bumps and who used crumpled tissues har har). Oh, the agony. The things kids do not have to endure today...they haven't a clue. Though I was really distressed when they recently reinstituted dress codes in Philadelphia public schools. It was my generation who abolished them...I remember having to wear a dress in elementary school and then all of a sudden we were allowed to wear jeans and I felt so free! Now, like everything else in this fucking country, we've taken a giant step backwards into the fifties. Bleh. Have I mentioned how much I hate Republicans and the whole conservative/right wing movement lately? Oh well, 'nuff said about that...there's a million blogs out there who do it better.

Oh and the reason I can't join a gym is because of spandex, exhibitionists, and disco music. I don't think I have to elaborate any further on that one. But I did once give it a try and yep, you guessed it, was immediately made an example of in the step class. Apparently I can't even walk up and down a step properly.

Anyway, Eric was kind of mentioned in today's Daily News because they interviewed Adrian Belew about his involvement with Rock School. Here's the article where they refer to him without saying his name...I'll underline the applicable part:

Belew to mentor, teach & solo at School of Rock
By JONATHAN TAKIFF
takiffj@phillynews.com

Adrian Belew has let his "twang bark" guitar howl in some pretty incredible company through the years, recording and touring with Frank Zappa, David Bowie, the Talking Heads and its offshoot, Tom Tom Club, on some of their most memorable projects.

Belew also pops up several times on the Greatest Progressive Artists list as a core member of the No. 1-rated King Crimson, for his sunny, pop/rock projects with the Bears and as the front man of his own trio and solo discs. (A track from his "Side One" CD was nominated for but lost out at the Grammys Wednesday night in the best rock instrumental category.)

This weekend, Belew is really working through that grand old man of rock thing. He's been cast as mentor, visiting professor and guest soloist for the School of Rock, the Philly-rooted and now nationally expanded music school.

Tomorrow afternoon, Belew conducts a seminar for students at the Downingtown SOR branch. That night, he'll perform with several bunches of the young (age 11 through mid-teen) players for two shows at World Cafe Live. It's actually the third stop of the crew's four-city East Coast mini-tour, concluding Sunday at New York's Knitting Factory.

School of Rock founder Paul Green - a steadfast advocate for complex, progressive rock - had been in hot pursuit of Belew for some time.

"They sent me their documentary to watch [which included guest appearances by other Zappa band alumni], then I went to the Web site and thought, 'This is a really cool thing,' " Belew shared in a chat on Wednesday.

"We rehearsed for the first time last night, and it went very well. Paul and I picked out the material, mostly from my catalog but also including Beatles and Hendrix songs. The idea is to challenge these kids a bit. It's difficult stuff for them to play, and they did really well."

While they're billed as the School of Rock All-Stars, Belew is performing strictly with current students and will gently steer the jams "so the best players get a solo or two."

But for the first rehearsal, Green also brought in some SOR graduates "so we could play just for fun and I could see what happens with these kids when they move on," Belew explained. "A couple are now teaching, others have moved on to college. You can definitely see the progression, how much better they've gotten. It's pretty inspiring."

Enough to make him think about joining the School of Rock faculty in his hometown of Nashville, Tenn.? "I don't have time for a regular teaching gig, but I'm definitely thinking about how I can help out there."

Playing the go anywhere, do anything, gun-for-hire role is something this dexterous talent "really enjoys," he said. (And when not playing, he sidelines as a abstract painter.) "But frankly, it's also what it takes to survive in the music business these days, if you're not in a first-tier band that tours and records all the time."

Belew has also been enticed in recent years to produce albums with the Mexican progressive rock leaning Jaguares, "who're sort of a Spanish-speaking U2, very strong, spiritual," and tracks with the Christian rock band Jars of Clay. And in his kick-butt power trio, he's collaborated with longtime devotees Les Claypool of Primus and Danny Carey of Tool.

"Now those are musicians that the School of Rock kids can identify with," he modestly declared.

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So that's cool, at least. Continuing on with the day from hell, the next thing that happened is that Eric's brand new Mac laptop died today and it said "fatal error" which means the hard drive fried. That was his Christmas present and it's not even two months old! He's really freaked out, because even though we have Apple Care and it's under warranty, he's afraid he's lost all of this music he's written in the past month.

Let's just hope that the nice techie men in the Apple Store can help us tomorrow and fix things assuming they aren't closed due to our approaching snow storm.

Anyway, that's it for me. I think I'll curl up with the dog and watch a DVD. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Later,
xo