The Halloween That Almost Isn’t

I’m not much of a Halloween gal. I don’t like horror movies. I honestly don’t get the meaning behind It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. And, I’m not much on Double Bubble and Pop Rocks. I’d say I’m more of a Dia de los Muertos kind of girl, but I know little about my ancestry and it’s been ages since I stepped foot in a cemetery.

I’m more into the glitz and glitter of Christmas and New Year’s.

Do I hear an ugly “ugh” and a deep sigh?

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Between Paranoid and Haunted Trees

“I’m feeling rough. I’m feeling raw. I’m in the prime of my life.”

~ from MGMT’s “Time to Pretend” off of Oracular Spectacular

Hidden among many of my favorite hip hop and rap tunes, crouches, like a clever stowaway, the song “Kids” by MGMT. Being the solitary voice of the (modern psychedelic?) rock genre in this not-so-eclectic playlist, the song stands out but also stands its ground. And, with gusto.

There is just something about the chorus—control yourself/take only what you need from it/a family of trees wanting to be haunted—that speaks to both the desire and the resistance in me as I imagine it does in many listeners.

In fact, the entirety of Oracular Spectacular, MGMT’s first release (2007), speaks to my very core. It is one of those albums that I’d bring if sailing off to be imprisoned on a deserted island (if I was permitted to bring albums) along with PJ Harvey’s To Bring you my Love and Outkast’s Aquemini.

But, of course, I am no critic of music. I only know that I like what I like and I like MGMT.

But, why “Kids”? Why not another, perhaps less popular, tune from that release? Why is it even on that playlist, nestled cozily between Flo Rida and Eminem? I mean, one minute Ty Dolla $ign is paranoid because his bitches know about each other and the next we’re contemplating the restraint (or lack thereof) of a group of desperate trees.

It’s simple. Of course.

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‘Raw, Unmedicated Heart’

I have a mad crush on Macklemore.

Yup. Me too.

I suppose that’s why I feel entitled to pilfer his lyrics and convert them into the unauthorized title of this post.

Yeah. (And, you can insert that wide-eyed, close-lipped head nod that means “Sure I did it and I should probably feel bad about it but I don’t really feel that way so what are you actually going to do about it?”) Yeah. The words that make up my title are not my own. They come from the song “Ten Thousand Hours” from which also hails the inspiration for this post.

Thank you, Macklemore!

So, ten thousand hours? I’ve been sober for 736 and some odd moments and seem to be getting my kicks from juxtaposing a nip (or two or three) of late night coffee with a mug (or two or three) of Sleepy Time Tea and from journaling about spiritual texts while listening to Chris Brown’s “Loyal.” And, after all that caffeine-high, herbal-low, I also seem to be passing the time by pissing a whole awful lot. Detox, I think they call it.

If that doesn’t sound like fun, what does?

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Good Night, Sleep Tight

Once, I put my foot in my mouth. (Yes, just once. I’ve got that much social savviness!)

I was at a wedding watching a youngster—maybe age two, maybe age three—run around chasing other children, having fun. I was standing with his father, admiring the boy, whom I hadn’t seen in quite some time, and commented “Wow, look at him! I haven’t seen him since he was nursing!” The father, turning to me with a look of irritation, simply stated “He’s still nursing.” Oh. Oops.

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Dos Carnations

Once, many years ago, I pulled through an oil well, oil changing place. I was driving the car that I still drive today—a little black Toyota Echo, a simple Coke can of a car—except that, at that time, it probably had something like 150,000 miles on it rather than the 235,000 it has today, and was the happy possessor of all four hubcaps. Still, all of that is beside the point,

The point is not, although I am sometimes amazed at the fact, that I have been driving the same 43-miles-to-the-gallon vehicle for the last fifteen years. No. The point is that, as oil changes are so often highly memorable, I still remember that oil change. Starkly.

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