Bits & Bats

As I was clipping letters for a birthday-related ransom note* recently, I read an article from a 2008 Vanity Fair, about Joni Mitchell, Carly Simon, and Carole King, and I was instantly struck by how much I would have loved to live in the 1960s and 1970s. How much the music–the revolution lingering beneath every lyric, the personal and national growth during those two decades–appeals to me. How interesting I find the stories.

The individual stories of these three powerful and determined women, and the way their respective stories intersect and bisect and run aground on one another, fascinates me.

Cat Stevens dated Carly Simon who later married James Taylor who collaborated with Carole King and who also previously dated Joni Mitchell, who dated nearly every man she ever met and/or collaborated with.

From the article it would appear Mitchell’s physical presence was nothing short of intoxicating. There were countless stories of her sitting in a room, singing and playing her guitar, and some man, typically another musician, wandering by and being instantly enraptured by her.

Did you know Carly Simon also dated Kris Kristofferson, and that Kristofferson** was the one dating Janis Joplin when she died? Or that Mick Jagger, who was a friend of Simon’s at the time, is the one singing back-up on her “You’re So Vain” track? Or that “You’re So Vain” originally started as “Ballad of a Vain Man” after Bob Dylan’s “Ballad of a Thin Man,” and is most likely written about Warren Beatty (who repeatedly tried to date Simon in the early ’70s)?

Did you know sweet baby James (Taylor) is an ex-heroin addict and sort of a jerk? At least, when it comes to his intimate relationships with women he is. He has a documented history of severing all ties to people he once deeply cared for; when he’s done with you, he literally never talks to you again. After Carly Simon watched him behave poorly with ex-girlfriend Joni Mitchell (and others), after eleven years of marriage and two kids, Taylor did the same thing to her. It’s easy to see from the Vanity Fair article, and interviews she’s given before and after, that his coldness and distance from her is something that still hurts Simon to this day.

The article was extensive and well-researched, and I was so enthralled I spent the rest of the evening listening to Joni Mitchell and wishing I could have been alive to see her and Carly Simon, Joan Baez, and Cat Stevens, Bob Dylan, and groups like Crosby, Stills and Nash performing in their respective primes. I would loved to have seen them young and vibrant and finding their place in the world through their music, telling stories that still resonate forty years later. Their music had so much soul. Their music still does, to this day, have so much soul. In my opinion, more soul than even the best music being made today will ever have. For whatever reason, it’s hard to find music that moves me the same way ’60s and ’70s folk rock and rock n’ roll does.

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I will forever maintain that the single saddest day in music’s dynamic and collective history was the day Cat Stevens stopped playing his guitar, the day he stopped performing and recording albums.

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This is one of my all-time favorite pictures of my dad, found in a box of old family photos I didn’t realize I had during the recent Great Closet Purge of 2010:

(You might have noticed I’ve been on a bit of a scanning kick as of late.) This picture was taken at my grandma’s house (my mom’s mom), and I’m quite excited to be heading toward that same house this Friday for an extended Memorial Day weekend. I have been missing my family to a degree I haven’t really felt in years. My grandma is one of my most favorite people on the planet, and I can’t wait to wrap her wee frame in a huge bear hug, both of us mostly likely crying because we’re (sappy like that, yes, and) just so happy to see each other.

Speaking of awesome grandmothers, I have two! This is my Grandma Ladish (my dad’s mom):

She turned 80 earlier this month and is as lovely (and as English) as ever. I get to see her (and Frances!) Saturday, and I can’t wait. Oh, and that incredible cake? My cousin Lianna totally made it. From scratch. Because she is amazing.

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After watching MacGruber last week with Sarah, Erin, and Daniel, I made an inspired ’80′s soft rock mix for the 6+ hour drive from Portland to Spokane and beyond, featuring Toto, Heart, Eddie Money, and Mr. Mister (to name a few). I then told Hans she was going to be subjected to said mix CD on our drive, and instead of fleeing the state without me, she humored me by acting as excited about it as I am. Come to think of it, I think she actually might be as excited as I am. Which is why she’s my Hans. (You know you wish you were going to be in the car with us. Especially after I tell you I’ve been practicing my rendition of “Take Me Home Tonight.”)

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Nothing is set in proverbial stone yet, but there’s a good chance I’m going to get to see my sister at the end of August. THE END OF AUGUST. For the calendar challenged, that’s not even a full three months away. To say I’m psyched would be to grossly understate. And grossly understating is gross, so I’ll just stop now, and wish you a happy! long weekend.

(Or if you’re Canadian and don’t have a long weekend that starts in t-minus two days (but who’s counting, really?)…you get to be Canadian, so don’t worry, you still win.)

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*What? Birthday notes that look like ransom letters are totally fun!

**Speaking of grandmothers! My grandma (mom’s mom) LOVES Kris Kristofferson. I doubt she’s seen any of the Blade series, but I’ve seen her call him “a fox” on numerous occasions.

***In case you were wondering, I have no logical idea why I titled this post “Bits & Bats.” I just liked it/thought it fit, especially because this might be the single most random entry I’ve ever posted. For the record, there are no bats, have never been any bats, will hopefully never be any bats. Unless maybe we’re talking about Batman. The Christian Bale version, though, none of this Keaton/Clooney/Kilmer nonsense.

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