Now, We Just Need to Bring Jimmy Page over to the Dark Side

You might read this article and read John Paul Jones on mandolin and assume they mean some other John Paul Jones.

But they do not! Holy fuck, they do not.


Bellies Bared to the Sun

I love this so much. I love seeing women with their big fat bellies just out there, them completely unselfconscious about it.

A while back, when I was at M.’s, I was joking about how old women cannot resist squeezing me. And the truth is that I understand. I mean, kind of. I’ve always had this body, or some variation of it, and I can touch it whenever I want, so it’s not that big a deal to me. But even back in my more frequent skinny-dipping days, when I stood naked in the moonlight at the edge of the pool or pond, other women would say “You’re so round” to me with awe.

I can’t say that I really know what they were thinking. I just know that they saw something when they saw my body that unexpectedly pleased them. And I still find it funny and strange, but not surprising, when women cuddle up next to me or put their arms around me or rest their hands gently on my hips.

I don’t know. Maybe guys feel the same way, but there’s no cultural license for dudes to snuggle up on women. And probably that’s for the best.

But when I see these sleeping Lithuanians, I both am grateful to see them and grateful there aren’t any comments, so I can just live in a world where this is extraordinary and wonderful.

You’re So Cute, Amos Lee

Regarding this song, Amos Lee told Rolling Stone, ‘The Man Who Wants You’ was written more as a straight-on country kinda tune, but I wanted to stretch it out of that scene a bit, so I played everyone ‘Snatching It Back’ by Clarence Carter and it fell into place easily. I always saw that tune as more of a country R&B flavor.’

And I’m glad to see the acknowledgement of the song’s debt to Carter.

But I think he’s left out the song’s obvious grandfather.

It’s cool, Amos Lee. It’s cool. We know.

One of the Ways I’m a Terrible Person

When I was a kid, an adult did something shitty to me. Not like life-shattering betrayal of trust shitty, but just ordinary shitty. The kind of ordinary shitty, though, that kind of ruins a little bit of being a kid for you. Like “Oh, this person is just pretending to be nice and pretending to be friends with these other adults, but really, she’s a liar who is deliberately doing things to undermine the people who think she’s their friend.” Until her, I didn’t really understand that grown-ups would lie. I thought they might not always tell the truth, but it was just because they didn’t know what the truth was, not because they had some agenda that was furthered by just trying to fuck things up for people.

Anyway, something terrible has happened to her community. She is fine. But I saw her on the news, hugely upset, going on about how she and the members of her church were staying late to help the victims of this terrible thing, because they’re Christian and that’s what they do.

And I felt this kind of rage burn through me so quickly and then burn out and then I laughed. And I realized I was laughing because she was so upset and scared and miserable.

I would like to be a more forgiving person. Not for the sake of the people who have wronged me. But just for my own sake. But I hadn’t thought about this woman in a million years. Isn’t that the benefit to moving away? Folks go on with their lives. You go on with yours. And you don’t have to give a shit about each other anymore. If you’d have asked me yesterday morning about her, I think I would have had to struggle to bring her to mind. My first memory of her would not have even been the shitty thing, but the really awesome thing she’s well-known for in the community (which I’m not mentioning, because it would, I think, make her immediately recognizable).

I didn’t know, in other words, how pissed and hurt I was still by her. Yesterday morning, if you had asked me if I had forgiven her. I would have laughed and said yes, of course. That was so many years ago. And I would have believed it.

But seeing her face. It just opened up some part of me I didn’t even know was walled off. And there I was “Ha ha, this time it sucks to be you.” And it felt good to see her crying.

So, here is my question. If you design an interior space in your psyche that lets you navigate life with as little continuing trauma as possible, if you just wall off the unpleasant shit you have no way of resolving and learn to maneuver around the spot you just don’t use any more so deftly you even forget it’s there, and you base your ideas of yourself on the interior that no longer includes those walled-off spots, how can you truly know you’ve moved beyond something? That you’ve truly forgiven someone? If the wall is there, just waiting to crumble, how can you ever, really, move beyond old hurts?