Taylor Hicks, Taylor Hicks, Taylor Hicks!

I started to tune American Idol out a while ago. But with Mr. Hicks, somehow, I’m back in… 

 

The “Boy, I hope you SUFFER” Song.

Courtesy of Kathleen Edwards.

Some of the best parts of “Back to Me”:

I got ways to make you crazy
Wear all the things you always wanted me to
I got ways to make you run
And my Daddy’s coming for you…

I got ways to make you hear me
Just by whispering your name
I got ways to make you think
You’ll never be happy again.

Great guitar, and as mean as they may seem….Clever lyrics. And its rock, and it’s country, and its just…Right.

Watch the video if you have time.

I’m tellin’ you right now. Someday I’m gonna sing BTM to a man.

That I hate. 😉

Carry A *What*…?

This morning, I lay in bed, earphones in, listening to the radio.

You know those epic rock songs from the 80s?

*sheds a tear for Chicago*

There’s this song…I’m tellin’ you…It’s been bothering me for years. It didn’t matter what the verses said. Whenever the chorus came up, from what I could tell, it was all about this chick named Carrie A.

Or so I thought.

Carrie A lays along the road that I should travel…

Still. Something told me that I didn’t have things quite right.

And so this morning, I tried to listen with new ears. At last, I thought I had it. “Mmmm….” I said to myself in my hazy morning fog. “…It’s called ‘Carry A Laser‘”.

And I just felt soooo clever. I was gonna come in here and blog about how wonderful it was that I finally managed to figure out the title of the song that had eluded me since childhood.

And then I went to Google.

The first entry that came up after typing “Carry A Laser” had a blurb that mentioned “Kyrie Eleison…”

I pressed on.

“Kyrie Eleison” is actually Greek for “Lord have mercy”.

And so, even in a simple, nagging quest for knowledge…The Lord speaks.

New india.arie and a Thought or Two

How many of you have heard her latest, “I Am Not My Hair“?

That song came my way via the boards on Nappturality, at–I’m sure you know now if you’ve read recent entries–a particularly poignant time.

On occasion, I wish I was bald. Perhaps then the madness would cease.

But in my lifetime…Or make that, in my twenties, when I first decided to try to love what the Good Lord gave me and accept it as is, I have endured what can only be called a litany of resistance. Beginning and ending with the classic anti-natural warnings:

No one will ever like you. No one will ever love you. No one will ever marry you. No one will EVER hire you. You are NOT beautiful. You do NOT look nice. People will be ashamed to be seen with you. I am ashamed to be seen with you. How can you possibly ever think that THAT is acceptable? Only SOME PEOPLE who have any sense are going to tell you the truth about the way you look, and you do NOT look good.

Did I miss anything? Let me know. LOL.

Which brings me back to ms. arie’s music.

I get and love what she’s trying to say. I understand her song completely. And yet…

As for me, I tend to think that I am my hair. In that I want to be real. And I feel the most authentic when I’m not hiding or pretending.

Not that my relaxed hair doesn’t look good. It’s fine.

*rolls eyes*

In a dry, crispy sort of way.

I do not mean to speak ill of those who relax their hair and enjoy it, or those whose natural hair texture is straight. But if you would like to learn more about why relaxing hair is dangerous, and what I mean when I call mine “crispy” read this. In particular, note this sentence:

Relaxed hair is always dry. This is why we?re constantly putting something on it.. oiling our hair and scalp two or three times a week…

I won’t into the perpetual damage that I now have to look forward to.

However, in spite of the fact that, depending on how I style it, I look even less like a teenager than I usually do–for which I sincerely thank God…

I miss being me.

We all have the right to be ourselves.

*huge sigh*

Jill Scott’s coming to town….

And naturally, I’m missing her.

She’ll be in tomorrow night. Massey Hall. Toronto.

If you’re going…I hear she’s fantastic.