As might be evidenced by my last post, I'm a huge music lover. I'm especially enamored of singer/songwriters, I think mostly because I'm also a lover of poetry. There's just something about
Listening to music at home is great. I'm a big fan of car karaoke - playing a CD at top volume and driving around singing along. It's better than therapy. And it's really good to have background music for your life. I like to fall asleep to music. I like to listen to music while I walk, when I'm on the bus, when I'm knitting. But the best thing about music for me is going to concerts. As a performer myself, I understand the draw of both performing and being in the audience. It's something a friend of mine called "the feeback loop," where the audience gives the performer their energy, who then feeds it back to them, who feeds it back to the performer, etc, etc, until you have what I experience as a spiritual experience.
In my Sociology 101 class back at Mills, we discussed a concept that really captivated me: the sociology of God. The basic premise, as I understood it, is that when a group of people gets together and focuses on one thing, they create a presence, an energy, that is greater than themselves. Whatever this thing is, was the beginnings of what people called "god". I don't mean to discount religion, or to explain it away; I just want to say that this is how I experience religion and spirituality.
You can have a spiritual experience at any concert, but every once in a while you meet a performer who can truly channel that energy. I'd liken them to a really charismatic preacher - they know what the audience is reaching for, and they know that they're the link that can get them there. I remember the first time I was really able to put that feeling into words was when I was 19 and went to see the Butchies at the Bottom of the Hill in San Francisco. I remember how uplifted I felt through that whole concert. I still remember how it smelled, how Kaia looked from the front of the crowd, how the music sounded, how the energy pulsed through the crowd, through my body... I remember coming home and saying "that concert was a spiritual experience". I had a similar experience at the Erin McKeown concert - I think she might know how well she manipulates the energy of a crowd, and if she doesn't, she should. Concerts like those are transcendent - they are why I listen to music, why I go out, why live music is so important. If I can't afford it, I find a way to go.
I go to church for the community, but I go to concerts for the energy rush, the spirituality, the connection to god.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Put your money where your heart is
This is a call to action.
Okay, everyone copies, burns, pirates music. A friend has an album you like, so you borrow it from her, burn it, and give it back. You find your favorite band's latest CD at the library, so you check it out, burn it, and return it. Money is tight. I understand that.
But wouldn't it be cool if we each picked one or two artists that we will support wholeheartedly, never burning, copying, pirating, or even buying used? Someone who we only buy from when we have the money, but we make sure they get every penny for every song, because they're amazing and they deserve it. Wouldn't that make you feel good about yourself? Wouldn't it make you more invested in their music, and make listening to it even more enjoyable?
I know it is for me. First off, I really enjoy having the original CD, with album art and lyrics. There's just something wonderful about having it in my hands, and I like to take a new CD and sit in my room and listen to the whole thing in one sitting with the lyrics sheet in my lap, letting the music soak into me and getting the full effect of the lyrics. So I almost never pirate CD's anyway. But I never used to have a problem with it. Really like her music, but can't afford a CD? Just rip it from the library! No problem. But recently...
Okay, so I went to this concert last November that really rocked my world. I ended up going to it kind of by accident - I signed up to be on the street team for one of my favorite musicians, Chris Pureka, and I got an email back about five minutes later saying that they really, really needed someone to hang posters for the Erin McKeown/Jill Sobule show two days later. Well hey, I thought, I spend an hour of my time doing this and I'll get brownie points with the Chris Pureka team. The two free tickets were an added bonus, but I wasn't feeling very well that week and didn't decide to go until the day of. Anyway, I did end up going, and boy am I glad that I did. I absolutely fell in love with Erin McKeown's music, lyrics, and stage presence (especially the stage presence! Come back to Seattle soon, Erin!). I almost never buy CD's at the show, but I knew I had to have a copy of Hundreds of Lions right then. Got it signed, took it home, and really haven't stopped listening to it for more than a day or two since then.
A day or two after I got home from the concert, I went online and purchased a copy of "We Will Become Like Birds," another Erin McKeown album, from her website. A couple weeks after that, I bought two t-shirts. This was the first time in years, and I mean years, that I had bought any CD new (except for Chris Pureka's new EP which I got signed at her last concert), much less a band t-shirt. It got me to thinking, but I hadn't formed that thought yet until Christmas came and I received a $20 Amazon.com gift certificate.
Now, $20 is a lot of money for me these days, and the temptation on a huge site like Amazon is to buy as cheaply as possible to make it stretch. Knowing that I wanted a couple more Erin McKeown albums, I thought, well, they're pretty cheap if you buy them used, I bet I could get two or three that way, instead of one and a half. But I looked at them, and I stopped. How could I love this artist so much and not support her 100%? If I knew that my biggest fans were doing everything they could to not spend money on my work, I'd feel like shit. So I made myself a promise.
For my favorite artists, I vow to always buy their merchandise new and pay full price for it. I know I cannot afford to do this for every musician I come across, so I will put my money where my heart is.
Since I promised this to myself, I feel better about listening to music. I feel freer about extolling the virtues of my favorite artists. And I feel really good knowing that when I take my newly-bought CD's to the next concert, I can get them signed without feeling even the slightest twinge of guilt.
Can you make this promise to yourself? In an age when most music is available (if illegally) for free, can you choose the moral high ground and pay for yours? I don't think you'll regret it. If you read this, comment and tell me where your heart is.
Okay, everyone copies, burns, pirates music. A friend has an album you like, so you borrow it from her, burn it, and give it back. You find your favorite band's latest CD at the library, so you check it out, burn it, and return it. Money is tight. I understand that.
But wouldn't it be cool if we each picked one or two artists that we will support wholeheartedly, never burning, copying, pirating, or even buying used? Someone who we only buy from when we have the money, but we make sure they get every penny for every song, because they're amazing and they deserve it. Wouldn't that make you feel good about yourself? Wouldn't it make you more invested in their music, and make listening to it even more enjoyable?
I know it is for me. First off, I really enjoy having the original CD, with album art and lyrics. There's just something wonderful about having it in my hands, and I like to take a new CD and sit in my room and listen to the whole thing in one sitting with the lyrics sheet in my lap, letting the music soak into me and getting the full effect of the lyrics. So I almost never pirate CD's anyway. But I never used to have a problem with it. Really like her music, but can't afford a CD? Just rip it from the library! No problem. But recently...
Okay, so I went to this concert last November that really rocked my world. I ended up going to it kind of by accident - I signed up to be on the street team for one of my favorite musicians, Chris Pureka, and I got an email back about five minutes later saying that they really, really needed someone to hang posters for the Erin McKeown/Jill Sobule show two days later. Well hey, I thought, I spend an hour of my time doing this and I'll get brownie points with the Chris Pureka team. The two free tickets were an added bonus, but I wasn't feeling very well that week and didn't decide to go until the day of. Anyway, I did end up going, and boy am I glad that I did. I absolutely fell in love with Erin McKeown's music, lyrics, and stage presence (especially the stage presence! Come back to Seattle soon, Erin!). I almost never buy CD's at the show, but I knew I had to have a copy of Hundreds of Lions right then. Got it signed, took it home, and really haven't stopped listening to it for more than a day or two since then.
A day or two after I got home from the concert, I went online and purchased a copy of "We Will Become Like Birds," another Erin McKeown album, from her website. A couple weeks after that, I bought two t-shirts. This was the first time in years, and I mean years, that I had bought any CD new (except for Chris Pureka's new EP which I got signed at her last concert), much less a band t-shirt. It got me to thinking, but I hadn't formed that thought yet until Christmas came and I received a $20 Amazon.com gift certificate.
Now, $20 is a lot of money for me these days, and the temptation on a huge site like Amazon is to buy as cheaply as possible to make it stretch. Knowing that I wanted a couple more Erin McKeown albums, I thought, well, they're pretty cheap if you buy them used, I bet I could get two or three that way, instead of one and a half. But I looked at them, and I stopped. How could I love this artist so much and not support her 100%? If I knew that my biggest fans were doing everything they could to not spend money on my work, I'd feel like shit. So I made myself a promise.
For my favorite artists, I vow to always buy their merchandise new and pay full price for it. I know I cannot afford to do this for every musician I come across, so I will put my money where my heart is.
Since I promised this to myself, I feel better about listening to music. I feel freer about extolling the virtues of my favorite artists. And I feel really good knowing that when I take my newly-bought CD's to the next concert, I can get them signed without feeling even the slightest twinge of guilt.
Can you make this promise to yourself? In an age when most music is available (if illegally) for free, can you choose the moral high ground and pay for yours? I don't think you'll regret it. If you read this, comment and tell me where your heart is.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
The Happy Existentialist
We make our own purpose in life. Every choice we make brings on more choices, unfolding endlessly before us. Fenced by circumstance, guided by our desires, we move forward as we will.
Some believe in God, some in justice, some in truth.
I believe in me, and my power in the world to do good or ill, to have my life touch the lives of the people around me. I try to be a good person, to step in where I can, to make things easier for others. I like to have fun. I like sex, and music, and soft fabrics, and good books. I like to feel. I like excess. I like to go back into myself at the end of the day, to recharge and reflect.
I like to give. I like the surprise in someone's eyes when I give them something, do something for them, that makes them feel special. It makes me feel whole. I like to give nice surprises. I like to bake cookies and share them with everyone I meet. I like to give pleasure to people because I like to indulge myself so much. I like to share. Joy shared is joy doubled.
I like to lose control, to be in control, to see where things go. I like to see how other people's choices connect with mine. I like coincidences.
I believe that life is inherently meaningless, that its only meaning is what we bring to it. And I like it just fine that way.
Some believe in God, some in justice, some in truth.
I believe in me, and my power in the world to do good or ill, to have my life touch the lives of the people around me. I try to be a good person, to step in where I can, to make things easier for others. I like to have fun. I like sex, and music, and soft fabrics, and good books. I like to feel. I like excess. I like to go back into myself at the end of the day, to recharge and reflect.
I like to give. I like the surprise in someone's eyes when I give them something, do something for them, that makes them feel special. It makes me feel whole. I like to give nice surprises. I like to bake cookies and share them with everyone I meet. I like to give pleasure to people because I like to indulge myself so much. I like to share. Joy shared is joy doubled.
I like to lose control, to be in control, to see where things go. I like to see how other people's choices connect with mine. I like coincidences.
I believe that life is inherently meaningless, that its only meaning is what we bring to it. And I like it just fine that way.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
On Hurting
I hurt today. When I don't hurt, it's an academic problem. I can talk about hurting, about not sleeping, about limping, about being frustrated. Then, I can go do something fun and forget about it. When I do hurt, I can't do anything else. I can't exercise, can't do stress relief activities, can't sleep, can't forget about it. I'm so tired. Some days, I'm bounding with energy, ideas, happiness. It's hard to be happy on days like this. It's hard to put one foot in front of the other, to think, to perform basic tasks. It's hard to imagine that there's nothing wrong with me, that I'm not dying, that I will ever not hurt. To wonder what I could have done to make this not happen.
I get angry. I get cranky. Everything is done to annoy me. I get depressed. I worry over things. I get stressed out emotionally. I want to hurt people, say mean things, push people out of my way. I have to work extra hard to be around people, to be nice, to be cheerful. I don't feel cheerful. I don't feel nice.
And I know that when I stop hurting, I'll stop thinking about it. I won't limp, or grind my teeth, or be exhausted. I won't worry about it. I'll be my regular, ray of sunshine self. I'll want to help people, do good things, hang out. But today, I can't think about anything else. I can't remember what feeling good is like.
I'm tired of talking about it. No, there's nothing I can do about it. Yes, whatever it is you think is causing it, I've been tested for that. Whatever treatment you're suggesting, I've probably tried it. Please stop suggesting things, asking things. When I tell you about it, it's because you looked concerned over my limp/strained expression so I gave you an explanation. My body is not yours to fix, and the more you try the more frustrated I get because I can't do anything about it.
I get angry. I get cranky. Everything is done to annoy me. I get depressed. I worry over things. I get stressed out emotionally. I want to hurt people, say mean things, push people out of my way. I have to work extra hard to be around people, to be nice, to be cheerful. I don't feel cheerful. I don't feel nice.
And I know that when I stop hurting, I'll stop thinking about it. I won't limp, or grind my teeth, or be exhausted. I won't worry about it. I'll be my regular, ray of sunshine self. I'll want to help people, do good things, hang out. But today, I can't think about anything else. I can't remember what feeling good is like.
I'm tired of talking about it. No, there's nothing I can do about it. Yes, whatever it is you think is causing it, I've been tested for that. Whatever treatment you're suggesting, I've probably tried it. Please stop suggesting things, asking things. When I tell you about it, it's because you looked concerned over my limp/strained expression so I gave you an explanation. My body is not yours to fix, and the more you try the more frustrated I get because I can't do anything about it.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Transitioning
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
re-forming to a will not quite my own
I'm losing both my future and my past
My feet are heavy, slowly gaining mass
though all the rest of me has come unsewn
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
My life will move and change and fall too fast
Until I tell myself - how you have grown!
I'm losing both my future and my past.
I will not change. It is too much to ask.
My spirit has been stripped to brittle bone
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
The things I fear may never come to pass
The thrill, the fear, the hope of the unknown
I'm losing both my future and my past
I shiver and I stutter and I moan
And one bright flash, my life, my world is gone
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
losing both my future and my past.
Making the decision to physically transition is one of the scariest things I have ever done in my life. It's also been one of the most freeing. I haven't started hormones, but I feel more comfortable in my body just knowing that I have the option. There will be several posts on this, but for now, I leave you with this poem.
re-forming to a will not quite my own
I'm losing both my future and my past
My feet are heavy, slowly gaining mass
though all the rest of me has come unsewn
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
My life will move and change and fall too fast
Until I tell myself - how you have grown!
I'm losing both my future and my past.
I will not change. It is too much to ask.
My spirit has been stripped to brittle bone
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
The things I fear may never come to pass
The thrill, the fear, the hope of the unknown
I'm losing both my future and my past
I shiver and I stutter and I moan
And one bright flash, my life, my world is gone
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
losing both my future and my past.
Making the decision to physically transition is one of the scariest things I have ever done in my life. It's also been one of the most freeing. I haven't started hormones, but I feel more comfortable in my body just knowing that I have the option. There will be several posts on this, but for now, I leave you with this poem.
On Being Short
No one talks about it, but there is a definite social bias against short people. I wouldn't call it oppression, but it's damned annoying. Doubly so for a short man, and triply so for a short, pre-physical transition man.
1. No one takes you seriously. I know that all my friends see me as male, but I'm not sure if any of them actually sees me as an adult. It's very difficult to feel grown up when it seems like everyone else sees you as a child. Standing in line for the grocery store, I had someone ask me what grade I was in. I didn't even know how to answer, since I haven't been in school, even college, for at least a year and a half. And does college count as a grade? "I'm a senior in college, but I'm not in school at the moment, so I'm not sure how to answer your question." At the coffee shop, people call me "honey" and "sweetie", and the fact that it's both patronizing and misgendering makes me grind my teeth. I suppose if I was cisgendered and wanted to look grown up, I could wear makeup and tight shirts to let people know that I was a post-pubescent woman. I can't even begin to figure out how to make people take me seriously as an adult male without first going on hormones.
2. People touch you all the time. Being short makes it more difficult for tall people to see you, so you get bumped into and stepped on a lot. That I can handle (not happily, but I've been in enough mosh pits that it doesn't usually faze me), but what drives me crazy is what people do when they realized they've bumped you. They touch your shoulder, or even worse, your head, by way of apology. Sometimes they touch both your shoulders, or your back. I hate being touched by strangers, especially strange men (who are the majority of tall people touching you); it makes my skin crawl. I don't understand why they feel that this is appropriate. You accidentally touched me without my permission, so by way of apology, you're going to intentionally touch me without my permission? Besides the apology pat, you also get the attack hug, which I think is mostly relegated to people who are read as female. That is, people (again, often men, but a surprising number of women as well) you've met once or twice come in and attempt to pick you up in a hug. I've become adept at the duck-and-run technique, which is easier the taller the person. It seems that if you l0ok small enough to pick up, people can't help but try it. Can I have one hug (if I have to hug you) without my feet leaving the ground? I mean, really, it makes me feel more like a grownup to keep my feet on the ground.
3. It's impossible to find clothing that fits. I imagine this is slightly easier for women, but are any other guys out there frustrated by the choices for small men? I mean, I got this new sweater I thought looked pretty keen. I wore it to a show with my friend Erin, and told her I just got it, and how did she like it? She said, it's cute! I think [her six year old son's name goes here] has one jut like it! Of course it was a boys' sweater, one they make in all boys' sizes, so of course her son had one just like it. At least boys' ties are cheaper. They don't even make jeans in my size, they're all at least 4 inches too long so I either have to have cuffs, step on them a lot, or roll them under. I suppose I could wear boys' jeans, but I draw the line at snaps instead of buttons. So much for that! And I think that my clothing makes people see me as much younger, because I have to buy it in boys' sizes, leading to more of #1 above.
4. You feel like you either have to compensate a lot (swearing, drinking, talking about literature) or just speak up for yourself (I'm 24. I'm 24. No, I'm not in middle school. Yes that's my brother but he's 12 years younger than me. Please just look at my ID.) so that people don't see you as a child. It informs your every move, how you shape your personality, whether you like it or not.
5. You can't see. You miss out on a lot of things that happen in crowded spaces, because there's someone standing in front of you. I have to get to concerts early, every time, in order to insure a seat/standing space in the front. When I go to the movies, I end up moving at least once because someone sits in front of me and I literally can't see the screen.
There are a few perks. I still ride the bus for 75 cents. I can get into amusement parks as my friend's child and get huge discounts on my tickets. You can fit into small spaces, and you never bump your head, anywhere ever. Also, other short people tend to like you a lot, especially if you're shorter than them (which I am, not a whole lot of other 4'11'' folks out there) But really, I'd rather pay $2 for my bus fare and have people look me in the eye and treat me like I know what I'm talking about. I have a lot of fantasies about being famous, I think mainly because I feel like more people might take me seriously then.
So guys, next time you meet a short person, ask before you touch them. Don't pick them up unless they ask you to. Don't make fun of their height, don't tell them it makes them cute, or that they'll really enjoy looking "young" when they're older. Your short jokes? We've heard all of them before. Yes, even that one. And if we haven't heard it, we probably don't want to. Let them stand in front of you at the concert. And for fuck's sake, treat them like they're adults, even if you're not sure how old they are!
1. No one takes you seriously. I know that all my friends see me as male, but I'm not sure if any of them actually sees me as an adult. It's very difficult to feel grown up when it seems like everyone else sees you as a child. Standing in line for the grocery store, I had someone ask me what grade I was in. I didn't even know how to answer, since I haven't been in school, even college, for at least a year and a half. And does college count as a grade? "I'm a senior in college, but I'm not in school at the moment, so I'm not sure how to answer your question." At the coffee shop, people call me "honey" and "sweetie", and the fact that it's both patronizing and misgendering makes me grind my teeth. I suppose if I was cisgendered and wanted to look grown up, I could wear makeup and tight shirts to let people know that I was a post-pubescent woman. I can't even begin to figure out how to make people take me seriously as an adult male without first going on hormones.
2. People touch you all the time. Being short makes it more difficult for tall people to see you, so you get bumped into and stepped on a lot. That I can handle (not happily, but I've been in enough mosh pits that it doesn't usually faze me), but what drives me crazy is what people do when they realized they've bumped you. They touch your shoulder, or even worse, your head, by way of apology. Sometimes they touch both your shoulders, or your back. I hate being touched by strangers, especially strange men (who are the majority of tall people touching you); it makes my skin crawl. I don't understand why they feel that this is appropriate. You accidentally touched me without my permission, so by way of apology, you're going to intentionally touch me without my permission? Besides the apology pat, you also get the attack hug, which I think is mostly relegated to people who are read as female. That is, people (again, often men, but a surprising number of women as well) you've met once or twice come in and attempt to pick you up in a hug. I've become adept at the duck-and-run technique, which is easier the taller the person. It seems that if you l0ok small enough to pick up, people can't help but try it. Can I have one hug (if I have to hug you) without my feet leaving the ground? I mean, really, it makes me feel more like a grownup to keep my feet on the ground.
3. It's impossible to find clothing that fits. I imagine this is slightly easier for women, but are any other guys out there frustrated by the choices for small men? I mean, I got this new sweater I thought looked pretty keen. I wore it to a show with my friend Erin, and told her I just got it, and how did she like it? She said, it's cute! I think [her six year old son's name goes here] has one jut like it! Of course it was a boys' sweater, one they make in all boys' sizes, so of course her son had one just like it. At least boys' ties are cheaper. They don't even make jeans in my size, they're all at least 4 inches too long so I either have to have cuffs, step on them a lot, or roll them under. I suppose I could wear boys' jeans, but I draw the line at snaps instead of buttons. So much for that! And I think that my clothing makes people see me as much younger, because I have to buy it in boys' sizes, leading to more of #1 above.
4. You feel like you either have to compensate a lot (swearing, drinking, talking about literature) or just speak up for yourself (I'm 24. I'm 24. No, I'm not in middle school. Yes that's my brother but he's 12 years younger than me. Please just look at my ID.) so that people don't see you as a child. It informs your every move, how you shape your personality, whether you like it or not.
5. You can't see. You miss out on a lot of things that happen in crowded spaces, because there's someone standing in front of you. I have to get to concerts early, every time, in order to insure a seat/standing space in the front. When I go to the movies, I end up moving at least once because someone sits in front of me and I literally can't see the screen.
There are a few perks. I still ride the bus for 75 cents. I can get into amusement parks as my friend's child and get huge discounts on my tickets. You can fit into small spaces, and you never bump your head, anywhere ever. Also, other short people tend to like you a lot, especially if you're shorter than them (which I am, not a whole lot of other 4'11'' folks out there) But really, I'd rather pay $2 for my bus fare and have people look me in the eye and treat me like I know what I'm talking about. I have a lot of fantasies about being famous, I think mainly because I feel like more people might take me seriously then.
So guys, next time you meet a short person, ask before you touch them. Don't pick them up unless they ask you to. Don't make fun of their height, don't tell them it makes them cute, or that they'll really enjoy looking "young" when they're older. Your short jokes? We've heard all of them before. Yes, even that one. And if we haven't heard it, we probably don't want to. Let them stand in front of you at the concert. And for fuck's sake, treat them like they're adults, even if you're not sure how old they are!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
