Susan, Unplugged


I enjoy these sites of mine, easy bake coven, and susan*jayne, mostly because I can write anything without worrying if I'm using the correct tense, or the spelling is right, or who's toes I might be stepping on. Or if I sound too left or too right [hardly]. Outside of blogging, I worry about those things. Every "i" has to be dotted, "t" crossed. Literally. And, mostly, since I abhor pretense more than anyone, I can come here and write about my cat if I feel like it. Or how I think Bush sucks and Gore really won the election. Here I don't have to wring my hands or gnash my teeth trying to write something profound and deep. A raw, pretentious-free zone. And I'm honored to have you come along with me.

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Robyn salutes Bush as he does the 'hook 'em horns' sign.



A Momentum Building?


I've noticed people publically speaking out against the potential war in Iraq. Until very recently, the Democratic silence was deafening. Until, the president-elect, Al Gore, spoke out on Bush's preemptive war doctrine. The wheels are in motion, people. Then Daschel found his cajones on the Senate floor, dusted them off, and barked at Bush a little, too. On deck was Ted Kennedy, voicing his opposition. Robert Byrd came before him, but I'm not sure I understood his rant. We've had more folks display their idea of letting war be the last choice instead of the first choice. No war is the best choice, but if we can move Bush away from having it at the top of his agenda, it's a start. London had a massive march this weekend as hundreds of thousands spoke out and marched in the streets. DC is speaking out against the war as part of the demonstration against the IMF/World Bank. There seems to be momentum building. I like it. I recall a time when it wasn't popular to be against the Vietnam war, but I still marched and protested against it. Every chance I got. Years later, most everyone agrees it was wrong for us to have been there.

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Father Time


Shirl has a nice Dickens' [Barnaby Rudge] quote today about aging. How Father Time lays his hand lightly on you as you physically grow older, but manages to keep your heart and spirit young. Well, that's what I got out of it, anyway. Just as long as Father Time doesn't come for a lap dance, I should manage very well.

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Robert Redford Siting


He's 65; has blond-grey-brown hair, around 5'11" and tonight he's under the same western North Carolina moon as I am. In beauty-conscious Hollywood, he's always spurned plastic surgery. He's shooting on a closed set but was seen filming yesterday in a large downtown parking garage with Willem Dafoe. I wonder if he's been offered any southern hospitality yet.
I've been getting many, many visitors stopping in looking for new info about RR and his new movie "The Clearning", through google and yahoo. Sorry, I only know very little about it, but will post when I find out anything.

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I Remember..., Or What I Did Today When My Power Was Out


My guitar has a mind of its own when I pick it up. It recalls songs my mind has long forgotten. "Don't Think Twice" was half way done when I remembered I learned it at age 14 to impress Bobby Goddard, who was then a senior. He had shown me the three basic chords needed to play most Dylan tunes many moons ago.



"Today" from Surrealistic Pillow, by Jefferson Airplane made a rare appearance. It took me back to a Vermont summer where I first learned that song. Am I subconsciously going back to my teens when I first started playing and singing? Then some Stones, "Lady Jane" and "Anybody Seen My Baby".





My husband came in to join me. We picked out some blues with a silly made up version of "Stormy Monday". While I had him in that frame of mind, I started singing, "It's My Own Fault, Baby", knowing he'd join in. I then sat back while he took over. It was my subtle way of asking him to sing and play. I remembered the songs he used to play on stage before we even met. And how I fell in love with his singing and playing and started asking around about him. I remember the first time he spoke to me. He finally walks over to me one day, looks me square in the eyes and says, "Can I get a Heineken?" I was the bartender. He was the main attraction.

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