KISS: C'mon And Love Me (1975)

This and "Do You Love Me"---two of my favorite KISS songs.



She's a dancer, a romancer
I'm a Capricorn and she's a Cancer
She saw my picture in a music magazine
When she met me, said she'd get me
Touched her hips and told me that she'd let me
I took her hand, baby, this is what I said

I said, "Baby, baby, don't you hesitate
'Cause I just can't wait
Lady, won't you take me down to my knees
You can do what you please
Come on and love me."

I'm a man, I'm no baby
And you're looking every inch a lady
You're good looking and you're looking like you should be good
You were distant, now you're nearer
I can feel your face inside the mirror
The lights are out and I can feel you, baby, with my hand

So baby, baby, don't you hesitate
'Cause I just can't wait
Lady, won't you take me down to my knees
You can do what you please
Come on and love me
Come on and love me
Come on and love me
Come on and love me

KISS: Do You Love Me (1976)

You really like my limousine
You like the way the wheels roll
You like my seven-inch leather heels
And going to all of the shows, but

Do you love me?
Do you love me?
Do you love me?
Really love me?

You like the credit cards and private planes
Money can really take you far
You like the hotels and fancy clothes
And the sound of electric guitars, but

Do you love me?
Do you love me?
Do you love me?
I mean now do you really love me?

You really like rock and roll
All of the fame and the masquerade
You like the concerts and studios
And all the money, honey, that I make, but

Do you love me?
Do you love me?
Do you love me?
Really love me?

Your backstage pass and black sunglasses
Make you look just like a queen
Even the fans, they know your face
From all of the magazines, but...

Do you love me? (Do you love me?)
Do you love me? (Do you love me?)
Do you love me? (Do you love me?)
Really love me? (Really love me?)
I wanna know

KISS - Detroit Rock City (1976, album version)

[...President Ford says that he's disappointed
with Congress's performance...
In Detroit, a Pontiac, Michigan, youth
was reported dead at the scene of
a head-on collision on Grand Avenue this morning
He was reportedly driving on the wrong side of the boulevard when he struck a delivery truck
and was catapulted through the windshield of his car
The driver of the truck is reported to be uninjured
The identities of both men are being withheld by local police
County legislators today are expected to rally
to the aid of striking longshoremen
in hopes of ending the nine-month deadlock...

"...I wanna rock and roll all night
And party everyday..."]

I feel uptight on a Saturday night
Nine o' clock, the radio's the only light
I hear my song and it pulls me through
Comes on strong, tells me what I got to do
I got to

Get up!
Everybody's gonna move their feet
Get down!
Everybody's gonna leave their seat

You gotta lose your mind in Detroit Rock City

Get up!
Everybody's gonna move their feet
Get down!
Everybody's gonna leave their seat

Getting late
I just can't wait
Ten o'clock and I know I gotta hit the road
First I drink, then I smoke
Start the car and I try to make the midnight show

Get up!
Everybody's gonna move their feet
Get down!
Everybody's gonna leave their seat

Moving fast, down 95
Hit top speed but I'm still moving much too slow
I feel so good, I'm so alive
Hear my song playing on the radio, it goes

Get up!
Everybody's gonna move their feet
Get down!
Everybody's gonna leave their seat

You gotta lose your life in Detroit, Rock City

Twelve o'clock, I gotta rock
There's a truck ahead, lights staring at my eyes
Oh my God!
No time to turn
I got to laugh 'cause I know I'm gonna die
Why?

Get up!
Everybody's gonna move their feet

Get up!
Everybody's gonna leave their seat
Get up! 

KISS - Black Diamond (Detroit, 1976)

Ingmar Bergman Films

Can't find a clean, simple list online without bullshit links and photos that force you to click on something.

At any rate, here's what I've seen so far via Netflix (the old-fashioned 2-at-a-time mailed discs):

Summer with Monika (1953)
The Seventh Seal (1957)
Wild Strawberries (1957)

----------------------

And in my immediate queue in this order:

The Magician (1958)
Torment
Crisis
Port of Call
Summer Interlude
Smiles of a Summer Night
The Virgin Spring
Winter Light
Ingmar Berman Makes a Movie
The Silence
Persona
Shame
Cries and Whispers
Scenes from a Marriage
Saraband
Face to Face
Autumn Sonata
Fannie and Alexander
Bergman Island

"The wonder of it all, baby..."

Wings (1975): Listen to What the Man Said

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night (Dylan Thomas, 1951)

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Obsidian

Geologically, obsidian is a dark glass that forms from lava that has cooled rapidly.

Metaphysically, here's an online text sample:

Obsidian is a talisman of those who dare to see…the past, the future, or one’s own inner demons and darkest truths. It is no ordinary stone, but nature’s glass formed from volcanic lava and hardened so quickly it formed no crystalline structure. It has no boundaries or limitations, and works rapidly with great power. Its edge can be razor sharp, and its dark, glossy surface polished into cold, hard glass, a “mirror stone” for those prepared to look deep into the inner being, the subconscious, to reveal one’s shadow self…flaws, weaknesses, fears, all. Nothing is hidden from Obsidian

This shamanic stone can be brutal and direct, yet it carries the wonderful power of catharsis and deep soul healing. It reveals the reasons behind one’s imperfections and causes of dis-ease, and provides a clear picture of the changes needed to ameliorate them. It impels growth and resolution, and lends solid support and direction during the process. Obsidian provides essential grounding, connecting the base of the spine to the heart of the earth. It is highly protective, shielding one from negativity in the environment, from others, and from within the self.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I mention the above because I just ordered a pound of raw obsidian from Amazon. I liked the rawness of it, and the blackness of it in my red/back/white living room. But I was also aware of its metaphysical properties and was attracted by the potential "catharsis." While I was winding down last night, reading, I rubbed one of the raw obsidian stones for over an hour before I fell asleep. During the night, I kept waking up and seeing "various triads of city scapes" (put in quotes because while half-asleep I saw 3 different groupings of spiked silhouettes that I couldn't identify). And when I woke up today, I was in an irritable, aggressive mood. Unlike the "I'm getting older, so I must be humble" attitude that I've been semi-trying to nurture recently as an antidote to my regrets over my past spastic behavior while young.
So was this obsidian a GOOD/BAD aggressive thing (like either Viagra or Thomas's "do not go gentle into that good night"), or a good/bad passive thing (like...oh, I dunno---even the saints were more aggressive).

Perhaps I should just order some rose quartz... 
(Ha! Just kidding. There's nothing "rose quartz" about me. I don't relate to "rose quartz" at all. I most likely should try to, but I don't. Obsidian and bloodstone and labradorite are what I've been drawn to so far. The weird, moony, CALMLY [as opposed to RUDELY] psychic labradorite being about as calm as I might ever hope to get.)

If I had someone to travel with...

 ...here would be one vacation I'd take, centered in the Deep South. (Was just inspired by learning that a home that F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald once briefly lived in [1931-32] in Zelda's home-town of Montgomery, Alabama, is both a museum AND part of the AirBnB circuit, for only $135 a night!)

My potential (though not likely) itinerary:

Fly in to Atlanta. Margaret Mitchell/GWTW site tours. (One day; spend night; rent car.)

Drive out to visit Ginny's grave in McDonough, Georgia, and briefly to the area where I lived for under a year as a 3rd-grader (Warner Robins AFB). Drive on to Montgomery.

Montgomery, Alabama: Visit Fitzgerald house/museum and locations where Scott/Zelda met in 1918, and where her parents once lived/where she grew up (now torn down). Spend night in Fitz AirBnB (2nd story of the house above the museum).

Tremont and Tupelo, Mississippi: Drive to visit birthplaces/museums of Tammy Wynette and Elvis Presley, respectively. (One day; spend night in cheap local place)

Memphis, Tennessee (Elvis's Graceland mansion), and Shiloh Battlefield. (One day; spend night in [probably very expensive] hotel)

Nashville, Tennessee. Ryman Auditorium and other historical country-music club sites downtown, plus George Jones's gravesite. (One day; spend night)  Turn in car, fly home to Austin.

I think this would be a GREAT 7-to-10-day vacation! (Trouble is, I don't know anyone else who does! My tastes are very specific! For one thing, when my mother, younger brother, and myself moved from Texas to Georgia pre-3rd grade to join my military father, my mother drove us all that way through the Deep South. Beautiful and mysterious country (unlike the more hard-scrabble-looking Texas, except for its Eastern woods). I would like to see both the East Texas pines and these southern states again.

The big-city Atlanta and Nashville parts of the trip would probably NOT be the highlights for me. Aside from the scenery while driving, I'd be looking most forward to the Fitzgerald house and the museums and the graves.

KISS: Goin' Blind (MTV Unplugged, 1995)

KISS: Goin' Blind (1974: Hotter Than Hell)

When I first heard this song around age 13 in the late '70s (a few years after it had first been released), I thought it was profound and sad. IT STILL IS.

And I know how it's to be
There is nothing more for you and I
Some are young and some are free
But I think I'm going blind

'Cause I think I'm going blind
And I know how it's to be, yeah

Little lady, can't you see
You're so young and so much different than I
I'm 93, you're 16
Can't you see I'm going blind

'Cause I think I'm going blind
And I know how it's to be, yeah

You're much younger, can't you see
There is nothing more for you and I
I'm 93, you're 16
And I think I'm going blind

Furniture Collapse!

I lived in a one-room (400 sq ft) apartment from 2010 to 2014, and one piece of real-wood furniture I bought during this time was a TV stand from a neighbor who was moving. I think I paid $40 for it. Because it was made of real wood, and not particle board, I'd assumed it would last me for the rest of my life. Though I've been in a bigger apartment since 2017, and one with a black/white/red theme, I'd still hung on to this "redwood" piece. It's been working just fine in my current apartment as a TV stand, and I assumed that it would, at one future point of my life, end up in my garage, or on a porch, or...somewhere.

Nah. The bottom board just collapsed dramatically this weekend (scaring both the cats and me). It's done, and there ain't no fixin' it.

I was mildly disturbed at its demise. I liked this simple table. And also: I haven't been in a lot of places for a "long" time. This current place: nearly 6 years. The next-longest place: 6 years. I was previously used to moving and dumping furniture, and so I never had the experience of having something that I liked actually give out on me! Today ordered a generic black particle-board thing from Amazon to take its place. Looks better, but isn't real wood, and has no story.

(Pictured below: After collapse, having moved the black cube off the bottom board and removed the 3 slats from the right side of table.)

The Seventh Seal: Clowns and Penitents

Aside from this scene, Bergman has his Clown Family survive the plague. I think he was just being kind.

Ingmar Bergman Movies

Odd, but when I did multiple searches on the Internet, I could not find a clear-cut TEXT list of Bergman movies.

Oh well. 

The list that I was searching for would have helped me keep track of the Bergman movies as I watched them. Watched so far:

Summer with Monika
Seventh Seal
Wild Strawberries

I've seen many more than this back in my college years (80s), but am just now starting to go through them again via Netflix, trying to go from beginning (including '40s) to end.

Poop Conversation

I live in a large apartment complex, and some of the residents with dogs don't pick up their dog poop. I usually haven't noticed this, but just last week I did notice that there were about 10 piles of poop right outside my backyard fence. And they stank.

I e-mailed the apt manager about the poop problem. An employee mailed back that I should try to "take pictures" of the miscreants! (Really? I'm supposed to hang out in my backyard with a camera and then pop out and snap shots of pooping dogs? Rather: Management should have their maintenance guys pick up the piles of poop if they can't enforce their rule that residents pick up after their dogs.)

Didn't take any pictures, but---when seeing several dogs/owners walk past my window toward the popular poop patch, I did go out after them and ask if they were "scooping their poop" because "there's been a problem." I felt like a total jerk (aka "Karen"), but in talking to two people (who happened to live together but walked their big-ass dog at separate times), I did glean that they were not the problem, but that there was one guy that they'd both witnessed letting his dogs out sans leash to poop freely... I told them that I'd report that to management, and I did.

This whole thing was so weird that I actually had a dream about it a couple of nights ago, in which I kept confronting various people in this apartment complex about their dogs and their poop!

Pool Conversation

My pool day today was pleasant. The most annoying thing EVER is a 20-something guy coming out there and cranking up his speakers. Didn't happen today, thank god.

I went out about 11:45am, had the pool to myself for about an hour. After that, a Hispanic woman and her young daughter came out.

Had an odd conversation with the mom: She had a pump, and a couple of blow-up floats. She asked me if I wanted her to blow up a float for me (!). I said no, thanks, I was just going to sit there by the side of the pool and read.

The Mom: What are you reading?
Me: The New Yorker. I have a stack of New Yorker magazines that I need to catch up on. [I cancelled my 20-year subscription to the New Yorker in 2016 because of their insane anti-intellectual takes on Trump, but I still have a stack of 10 or so mags that I still haven't read and take out to the pool.]
The Mom: I like to read The Great Books.
Me: What?
The Mom: The Great Books.
Me: When I come out to the pool, I don't want to bring any nice books---don't want to get them wet or get any suntan lotion on them, so I just bring my old magazines.
The Mom: I like to go to Half-Price Books and get The Great Books.

Oh. OK. Jesus. (What in the world are "The Great Books" in her mind? Say I'd asked her what particular "Great Book" she'd bought at Half-Price. Where in the world would that have gone? A serious discussion of Dickens?)

I'm about to be 57 years old next month! NEIN!

Crap! I can't hide it any longer: I just don't look cute any more!

Oh well. Guess from now on I'll have to attract other weirdos like me via my insinuating T-shirts and stated proclivities for George Jones and Joan Crawford and desire to travel to Thomas Hardy and F. Scott Fitzgerald and Southern and Russian and German sites. An acquired (and rather particular and unmatched) set of tastes. (Actual thoughts, though, can't quite be transmitted via the Internet.)

Yes, I fully expect to grow old and die alone---while surrounded by my beautiful cats and listening to the Beatles and George Jones, and watching Joan Crawford movies, and reading Hardy and Fitzgerald and Plath. Not such a terrible way to go out. Thought I really would prefer to have seen Paris and Moscow and Boston (and to have re-visited my father's East Texas and my mother's Wolfsburg) before I died!

Nietzsche bietzsche!

George Jones: Live At Austin City Limits (1980)

Full Austin City Limits George Jones show!
Just posted 4 days ago on YouTube (I came across by accident). Very excited to see this for the first time!

Special kudos to fiddler Johnny Gimble! And to the zither guy with his Tammy Wynette T-shirt! :)

Metallica: Enter Sandman (Live in Moscow, 1991)

(What is it about "Moscow" that adds goose-bumps? They're so grateful.)

"So there's been a Nuclear Attack..." NYC PSA released July 12

"Don't ask me how or why...The Big One has hit, OK?... Don't worry, you've got this."

What's more alarming?
NYC government employees seem to think that a nuclear attack is eminent.
We're not supposed to ask "how or why."
Some stupid wokester in a Steve Jobs outfit tells us, in therapy-speak, that if we go inside, we're fine---we "got this."

Anything wrong with any of the above?