Remember when you were a kid and went somewhere with your parents and tried to pretend that you were not really with them? Well, I did that a few times. I don't think I fooled anyone, including my parents.
It was sort of the same way with bluegrass/country music. My father, who's now 91, used to play guitar (not very well) and sing songs made popular by Bill Monroe, Ralph and Carter Stanley, Mother Maybelle, Hank Williams, and Patsy Cline. I used to pretend I didn't hear him.
As a teen and young adult, I was trying to "prove to them" (whoever they were) that I wasn't a hillbilly and that I could indeed thrive in non-hillbilly conditions. I used to cringe at the fiddle sounds in Orange Blossom Special and pretend I wasn't captivated by the rhythm of Wildwood Flower.
I'm not sure what changed. Did I gain enough self-confidence to be myself? Did I gain enough knowledge of musical theory that I could appreciate the nuances of sound from opera to rock to bluegrass? Did I gain enough life experience to emphathize with the emotions in bluegrass and country music: love lost, love unrequited, hard times?
Somewhere in my mid-to-late 20s, I began to tap my feet to bluegrass, to sing-along, to hear the beauty of bluegrass harmony, to listen in amazement at the sounds of a dobro and a licketysplit banjo or fiddle.
Yes, I'm a child of the 60s and I "Cain't Get No Satisfaction" and I grooved to "InaGaddadavida," and knew "There's a Bad Moon Risin.'"
I weep with pleasure listening to Mozart. All I want is "R-E-S-P-E-C-T" and want to feel like a "Natural Woman."
However, I would like to ride "The Orange Blossom Special." I would like to hear the "Wabash Cannonball" rumble past. I occassionally have seen "The Wildwood Flower" here in the mountains of Virginia.
Yes, I do like bluegrass music.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
I miss the "old" hardwear store; I'm glad it's gone
When I was eight or nine years old, I didn't think of myself as a tomboy. (Does anyone even use that expression now?) Of course, I didn't think of myelf as a sissy either. What I did know was that it was more fun to tag along with my Dad to the hardware store than to go to the department store with my Mom.
Hardware stores had a better smell and had aisles full of mysterious implements that I couldn't reach. It was a man's domain, and I was a visitor to this strage land. Maybe the smell was of metal rusting combined with oil, but I liked it. The deities were the men who knew where everything from a molly bolt to a belt for the tractor was kept. I don't remember any women staff.
The way I remember it (which may/may not be the way it really was) is that it was ok for a little girl to tag along with Dad, but when I was over 18 and went in the hardware stores by myself to select a tool or supply, I was looked at suspiciously, as if I had the wrong religion or had wandered into the wrong territory--sort of like Gary Powers flying over Russia.
Now, the big box stores that sell hardware may have a department called hardware. But they are more than that. They actively market to women. There are sections that sell home appliances such as vacuum cleaners, dishwasher. And just wander down the curtain and window covering aisles, called home decor. There are women who actually know where the molly bolts are and who can direct me to the lumber section of the stores.
Yes, I miss the mystery and smell, but I like that men and women seem to be equally ignored by the staff. Well, in fairness, there are actually helpful staff who've shown my everything from the deck stain to the molly bolts.
In fact the last time I went into the "hardware" store which is now a home improvement store, searching for a variable speed drill, I knew more about it than the "helper." I'm glad I was able to visit those mostly disappeared wooden-floored, male-dominated stores as a girl.
Hardware stores had a better smell and had aisles full of mysterious implements that I couldn't reach. It was a man's domain, and I was a visitor to this strage land. Maybe the smell was of metal rusting combined with oil, but I liked it. The deities were the men who knew where everything from a molly bolt to a belt for the tractor was kept. I don't remember any women staff.
The way I remember it (which may/may not be the way it really was) is that it was ok for a little girl to tag along with Dad, but when I was over 18 and went in the hardware stores by myself to select a tool or supply, I was looked at suspiciously, as if I had the wrong religion or had wandered into the wrong territory--sort of like Gary Powers flying over Russia.
Now, the big box stores that sell hardware may have a department called hardware. But they are more than that. They actively market to women. There are sections that sell home appliances such as vacuum cleaners, dishwasher. And just wander down the curtain and window covering aisles, called home decor. There are women who actually know where the molly bolts are and who can direct me to the lumber section of the stores.
Yes, I miss the mystery and smell, but I like that men and women seem to be equally ignored by the staff. Well, in fairness, there are actually helpful staff who've shown my everything from the deck stain to the molly bolts.
In fact the last time I went into the "hardware" store which is now a home improvement store, searching for a variable speed drill, I knew more about it than the "helper." I'm glad I was able to visit those mostly disappeared wooden-floored, male-dominated stores as a girl.
Boomers Do Social Media
Enough with the talk about digital natives and digital immigrants. Some of us Boomers have been working with computers since before the Millenials were even born. Ok, so there wasn't all the fun stuff to do--such as games, etc. And yes, we were using them for WORK.
However, some of us have decades of experience and do use social media and do use smartphones for work AND fun. We're individuals, and so are our colleagues in Gen X and Y and the Millenials.
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