S.L. Schmitz's Blog, page 7

Where is David Bowie?

Where is David Bowie?

He’s vanished. The Thin White Duke’s 65th birthday was January 8, 2012, but there was no public party, no photographs, no nostalgia decorated with candles and frosting.

Unlike contemporaries Mick Jagger and Jimmy Page, Ziggy Stardust seems to have disappeared into a vast domestic void, ala John Lennon. Reliable news reports like Rolling Stone and the UK’s Daily Record allude to a former rock god who has now devoted himself, heart and soul, to the life of being a Dad and a husband. He is not out dancing, he is not out attending red carpet events, and he is not on the talk show circuit. He is just… missing.

I want my renegade back. Supposedly, there is a 12-city tour city scheduled the summer of 2012; with all activities and preparations sanctioned by doctors and heart specialists. Did you know that Bowie had a heart attack in 2004, and it has haunted him ever since? At age 57, our hero doubled over in agony and was diagnosed with heart problems. He has been awfully quiet ever since. His upcoming tour is brought to you by the best cardiac specialists money can buy….but is the world ready for Bowie’s newest incarnation of feeble monarch of the circadian rhythm? I don’t know.

Because Bowie is not a part of a group like similar rock gods as The Rolling Stones or The Who, he is not involved in the same financial group dynamics or bickering as those who are multi-invested in their own fame or royalty deals.  There is no simpering Axl Rose haunting the background of Bowie’s music awards. Being a singular phenomenon, Bowie is able to call the shots and remain the ultimate superstar in any grand touring production in which he participates. He can be as intimate or as obscure as he likes – but ultimately, his fans just want him to be visible.

Iman, little HSN Circe. You are a siren in the sea of muses – admit it. What have you done to the beloved one? You have reduced him to carpool, to painting pictures all afternoon and then picking up the spawn after school. It is unacceptable how you have tamed the musical demon. I would respect you, if only I wasn’t so annoyed that it was Bowie that you silenced.

65 years old and hidden… inaccessible… will the 2012 tour redeem you? Or will it be a puppet show, driven by ticket sales and merchandising rights? I mean, after all – no matter how much I adore your previous personas, nothing can excuse the concert sellout of the “Serious Moonlight Tour” and the absurd “Glass Spider Tour”.  I’m speaking from genuine truth – this is from a fan who had the poster of your “Elephant Man” Chicago run taped to the wall by my bed. I only want the best for you.

At least you have not fallen prey to the church of plastic surgery. Bowie still looks like Bowie, even with the heavy bags under his blue and brown eyes.

We miss you, David. You haven’t been onstage since 2006, and you’ve only done cameos on other people’s projects. Please come back to the world that worships and adores you.

David, Ziggy, Aladdin Sane. Where art thou?

“Oh, how I sighed, when they asked if I knew his name…”

Filed under: About Me Tagged: Aladdin Sane, Axl Rose, David Bowie, heart attack, Iman, Jimmy Page, John Lennon, Mick Jagger, muse, red carpet, Rolling Stones, The Thin White Duke, The Who, Ziggy Stardust

Andromeda Eve joins Pinterest – and kinda likes it

Thanks to an old high school friend, I got an invite to Pinterest.

Previously, I had not bothered with the site because it didn’t make sense to me. Screen capture a bunch of pictures and “pin” them into a online folder? Hmmm…

I became more interested in Pinterest when I was on the Examiner message boards and people were talking about how useful the site was as a social medium. So, like a good little Social Media denizen, I set up a profile and created six new Pinterest boards in subjects that I think I can keep updated and meaningful.

My current boards are:

Princess Diana (of course)
Big Bang Theory
Famous Author Interviews (to throw my Examiner columns into)
Books Worth Reading (I can put Dark Continents books and other favorites here)
Haunting Women
Amazing Libraries

I had a good time filling the boards with pictures, and even found myself saying “ooh” and “ahh” looking at other people’s boards. There are some stunning photographers out there, capturing images of clothes that are more like artwork then functional coverings for stick-thin models, powerful close-ups of flowers and insects, and pictures of place on earth that are so breath taking, they cannot possibly be real.

Find me on Pinterest at http://pinterest.com/andromedaeve/, but just remember that like all things that I do, it is a work in progress.

Filed under: About Me Tagged: Andromeda Eve, Christian Dior, Pinterest, Princess Diana

How an entire generation was brain-washed by Little House on the Prairie

When I was a second grader back in the 1970’s, I read and re-read the Little House on the Prairie Series by Laura Ingalls Wilder. It sparked my imagination, and made me wish that I was a little pioneer girl just like her.  I couldn’t decide who I was more aligned with – Laura Ingalls or Jo March, from Little Women. In the end, they were both wonderful books with beloved female characters.

Fast forward to the TV show, also titled “Little House on the Prairie”. This dramatic soap opera of a series ran from 1974- 1982, and featured Melissa Gilbert as Laura, Michael Landon as Pa, Karen Grassle as Ma, and Melissa Sue Anderson as Mary. Obligatory twin sisters Lindsay and Sidney Greenbush played Carrie, and a variety of other cast members portrayed the roles of Nellie Olson, Mr. Edwards, and Reverend Alden. The show was sticky sweet, and every week seemed to bring a new calamity to the town of Walnut Grove.

As an impressionable 8 year old, I loved this show. It was always broadcast on Monday night, and it seemed like fine entertainment at the time. So when I was channel surfing recently, I was thrilled to find Laura and the whole Ingalls gang in syndication on one of the cable channels. And that, my friends, is when the realization finally dawned on me…

Wait – am I about to be sacrilegious and diss one of the Hallmark Channel’s favorite primetime re-runs? I’m not sure how controversial what I am about to say may be to some – but I have got to be honest. With age comes wisdom, as they say.

Here goes: “Little House on the Prairie” was a crappy, sappy TV show.

I mean, a real stinker; on the same level of painful TV viewing as “Three’s Company“, “The Love Boat“, and “Welcome Back Kotter.”

Did you know that there are more than 5 websites that list, one after another, every episode of every season of the show? As I glance through all eight seasons of illnesses, injuries, love affairs, deaths, and neighborly angst, I remember most of them. And all of that sermonizing they did! I think I spent more time in the Walnut Grove church-slash-school building then I did at CCD class preparing for my first communion.

It took years before I grew tired of Laura’s buck-toothed tears, or Nellie’s corkscrew curls. I kept hoping Mary wouldn’t lose her sight, or that Caroline would finally give birth to that baby boy that Charles was always yammering about. Even through the Michael Landon Kodak years and that odd season when they all lived in the town of Winoka and adopted weak-chinned Albert , I stuck with the Ingalls family. I was brainwashed into watching that show every week until I was in middle school, when I finally let the Force Be With Me and fell in love with Starbuck (Dirk Benedict’s original Starbuck, thank you very much).

By the early 1980’s, the whole story arc of the series was centered around Nellie marrying a Jewish guy, Laura finally meeting that goofy looking Almanzo, Grace arrives, and Mary is still blind. Through it all, Pa still manages to spend at least one or two episodes every season saving someone from dying or preaching some more of those Mike Brady/Andy Griffith words of wisdom. The whole show finally jumped the shark in Season 6 when the School for the Blind burns down and Mary’s baby dies. I still remember watching that particular episode with my mother, and the way we looked at each other and rolled our eyes over all the melodrama. It was just too much. Enter puberty- and my Little House on the Prairie watching days were over.

I didn’t pay much attention to the last, straggling seasons as the series wound down. Laura spent a lot of time worrying that Almanzo, with that fabulous bowl haircut, was cheating on her. Charles and Caroline find some more children to adopt, Charles saves the lives of some more really depressed (and depressing) people, there is a lot of Christianity-talk, and Mary is still blind. Apparently, Walnut Grove was a hotbed of crime and disease in the late 1880’s, since so many episodes seem to revolve around death and hostage-taking. Who knew?

Whatever. Back to my original intent for writing this blog in the first place – I just cannot believe how unwatchable the shows are to me now. My forty-four year old self just sits with my mouth open, unable to endure all that saccharine and bad luck. The show was canceled in 1982, preparing the way for Michael Landon to pursue additional religious-themed TV shows, a divorce scandal, and coffee enemas. Melissa Gilbert got a nose job, but that was about the only job she ever got after the show ended.

There were a few, final movies to wrap up the loose ends, all of them sporadically starring the original cast. In the last of these post-series movies, the citizens of Walnut Grove band together to blow up their town in order to keep a railroad tycoon from taking control. Seems to me, they could have done that a lot earlier in the series, and saved a generation from whole lot of pioneer headaches and heartaches.

 

Filed under: About Me Tagged: Hallmark Channel, Jo March, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Little House on the Praire, Little Women, Melissa Gilbert, Michael Landon, The Love Boat, Three's Company, Walnut Grove, Welcome Back Kotter

Let it go…

 

Is it intentional?

This irrational fear that gnaws and consumes… Are all writers afflicted? Are we all so desperate to tell our stories, real or imagined, that we will surrender our own daylight for the promise of another being's sunrise?

It is dark, this place. The affliction personifies; it now writhes and beats against the walls. There are no trapdoors. It is medieval, this place. The body that conforms to the prison within — holed up under the guise of another manifesto.

Hundreds of years later, the castle walls will crumble. You will be found – do not fear. Unable to stand, body disfigured, sentenced to a death within the bricks of despair.

Found, but forgotten.

Unearthed, but unknown.

Filed under: About Me Tagged: blog, castle, poetry, S.L. Schmitz

I am the poster child for the Society of People Who Don’t Get the Memos That Tell Everyone Else How to Behave

 

I can get in trouble all by myself. I don’t need any help, thank you.

Believe me – I am one of those alternative chicks who never joined a sorority, never wears the ‘right’ clothes, and barely keeps my Eastern European hair from sticking out all over the place ala Sigourney Weaver in Ghostbusters One.

Not only am I an only child, I am also an Aquarius. Talk about a double whammy of social in-etiquette. I am the walking, talking poster child for the Society of People Who Don’t Get the Memos That Tell Everyone Else How to Behave. I stumble along, and I think I do a pretty good job of blending in with Everyone Else – but at least once a week I get that old feeling that I’ve broken the rules again.

What rules, you say? If you have to ask, you don’t know them, either. You are probably nodding your head right now and saying to yourself – yeah! I want to know the Unspoken Rules, too! Let’s be honest here – every society has a collection of Unspoken Rules that the members must follow in order to not be considered an outcast or a rebel.

A society is a group of people who are brought together due to circumstances. I am going to focus on the USA for the purposes of this post, as that is my background. When we are small children, our societies are the daycare centers, the T-Ball teams, the kindergarten classroom and the neighborhood kids. As we get into the tween years, our societies become more defined into family, church, and the middle school ecosystems of cool kids, weird kids, poor kids, rich kids, sports kids, etc. By the time we get into high school, teenagers have begun to mold their personalities based on peer pressure, musical and clothing preferences, and preferred social activities. The names for these different teenage societies change with each decade, but the underlying theme stays the same; will you be a jock, a stoner, an Emo, a scholar, or one of those zealous religious kids?

College (or lack thereof) is about expanding frontiers and pushing the limits of society — but don’t be fooled for one minute into thinking that a college campus has more tolerance or more opportunity for societies to blend. They don’t. Often the career path you choose has distinct social parameters and Unspoken Rules. Want to be an elementary school teacher? That nose ring and purple streak in your hair is really gonna stand out at graduation. How about being an accountant or a stockbroker? You better cut your hair a certain way, laugh at all the right jokes, and be able to carry on a conversation using all the ‘right’ words and phrases. It’s not about stereotyping – it’s about knowing the Unspoken Rules.

Honestly, we just haven’t come that far from the Inquisition, the Salem Witch Trials, or the Red Scare of the 1950’s. Being different has always been dangerous.

OK – you get the idea. Society always has and always will frown on anyone who has opinions or thoughts which are alternative or go against the grain. I question things, and seek answers (that one gets me in trouble with Everyone Else with alarming frequency). On top of that, I grew up in the Midwest in a suburb right outside of Chicago, then lived for 5 years in Manhattan KS, then moved to the East Coast and lived in Fairfield County, CT. I now live the Bible Belt in North Carolina. I like to think of myself as ambidextrous within different groups of societies… but the ruse can only last so long. Eventually, my combination Aquarian oddness/liberal thinking pops out and cracks the shell of my attempts to fit in with Everyone Else. It is a cycle that never ends.

I get tired of all the mystery of living in a society. I say things, and can’t figure out why is was not politically correct to the general population. I share an opinion that is considered blasphemous to Everyone Else. If I write or read things that are not YA, or wear all black, or tell an anecdote that is not white bread Barbie doll, I get looks of confusion or disdain.

Why can’t it be OK to just have a thought or an opinion that doesn’t conform? When did we become such a world where high school never ends? Where cliques are acceptable, even when the people in them are all in their 40’s? One of the saddest things I ever heard another human being say was a 43 year old executive assistant at a large corporation. The topic of friendship had come up, and this woman said very distinctly and directly “I do not need to make any new friends. I have all the friends I need already.”

Wha? She was so set in her ways, and so afraid to expand her little world that she had shut down her ability to befriend or be friended by anyone else. She was proud of her statement, too, as if this were a perfectly natural state of affairs.

So for all of you out there who are honorary members of the Society of People Who Don’t Get the Memos That Tell Everyone Else How to Behave — well met and prosper, my friend.

And for the rest of you who have read this blog and have no idea what I’m talking about… that’s alright, too. Feel free to respond however you like. I promise I won’t mind.

Filed under: About Me Tagged: Aquarius, Barbie doll, Bible Belt, Chicago, cliques, Easter European, emo, executive assistant, Fairfield County, Ghostbusters, high school, Inquisition, Manhattan KS, middle school, midwest, only child, Red Scare, Salem Witch Trials, Sigourney Weaver, society

I am the poster child for the Society of People Who Don't Get the Memos That Tell Everyone Else How to Behave

 

I can get in trouble all by myself. I don't need any help, thank you.

Believe me – I am one of those alternative chicks who never joined a sorority, never wears the 'right' clothes, and barely keeps my Eastern European hair from sticking out all over the place ala Sigourney Weaver in Ghostbusters One.

Not only am I an only child, I am also an Aquarius. Talk about a double whammy of social in-etiquette. I am the walking, talking poster child for the Society of People Who Don't Get the Memos That Tell Everyone Else How to Behave. I stumble along, and I think I do a pretty good job of blending in with Everyone Else – but at least once a week I get that old feeling that I've broken the rules again.

What rules, you say? If you have to ask, you don't know them, either. You are probably nodding your head right now and saying to yourself – yeah! I want to know the Unspoken Rules, too! Let's be honest here – every society has a collection of Unspoken Rules that the members must follow in order to not be considered an outcast or a rebel.

A society is a group of people who are brought together due to circumstances. I am going to focus on the USA for the purposes of this post, as that is my background. When we are small children, our societies are the daycare centers, the T-Ball teams, the kindergarten classroom and the neighborhood kids. As we get into the tween years, our societies become more defined into family, church, and the middle school ecosystems of cool kids, weird kids, poor kids, rich kids, sports kids, etc. By the time we get into high school, teenagers have begun to mold their personalities based on peer pressure, musical and clothing preferences, and preferred social activities. The names for these different teenage societies change with each decade, but the underlying theme stays the same; will you be a jock, a stoner, an Emo, a scholar, or one of those zealous religious kids?

College (or lack thereof) is about expanding frontiers and pushing the limits of society — but don't be fooled for one minute into thinking that a college campus has more tolerance or more opportunity for societies to blend. They don't. Often the career path you choose has distinct social parameters and Unspoken Rules. Want to be an elementary school teacher? That nose ring and purple streak in your hair is really gonna stand out at graduation. How about being an accountant or a stockbroker? You better cut your hair a certain way, laugh at all the right jokes, and be able to carry on a conversation using all the 'right' words and phrases. It's not about stereotyping – it's about knowing the Unspoken Rules.

Honestly, we just haven't come that far from the Inquisition, the Salem Witch Trials, or the Red Scare of the 1950's. Being different has always been dangerous.

OK – you get the idea. Society always has and always will frown on anyone who has opinions or thoughts which are alternative or go against the grain. I question things, and seek answers (that one gets me in trouble with Everyone Else with alarming frequency). On top of that, I grew up in the Midwest in a suburb right outside of Chicago, then lived for 5 years in Manhattan KS, then moved to the East Coast and lived in Fairfield County, CT. I now live the Bible Belt in North Carolina. I like to think of myself as ambidextrous within different groups of societies… but the ruse can only last so long. Eventually, my combination Aquarian oddness/liberal thinking pops out and cracks the shell of my attempts to fit in with Everyone Else. It is a cycle that never ends.

I get tired of all the mystery of living in a society. I say things, and can't figure out why is was not politically correct to the general population. I share an opinion that is considered blasphemous to Everyone Else. If I write or read things that are not YA, or wear all black, or tell an anecdote that is not white bread Barbie doll, I get looks of confusion or disdain.

Why can't it be OK to just have a thought or an opinion that doesn't conform? When did we become such a world where high school never ends? Where cliques are acceptable, even when the people in them are all in their 40's? One of the saddest things I ever heard another human being say was a 43 year old executive assistant at a large corporation. The topic of friendship had come up, and this woman said very distinctly and directly "I do not need to make any new friends. I have all the friends I need already."

Wha? She was so set in her ways, and so afraid to expand her little world that she had shut down her ability to befriend or be friended by anyone else. She was proud of her statement, too, as if this were a perfectly natural state of affairs.

So for all of you out there who are honorary members of the Society of People Who Don't Get the Memos That Tell Everyone Else How to Behave — well met and prosper, my friend.

And for the rest of you who have read this blog and have no idea what I'm talking about… that's alright, too. Feel free to respond however you like. I promise I won't mind.

Filed under: About Me Tagged: Aquarius, Barbie doll, Bible Belt, Chicago, cliques, Easter European, emo, executive assistant, Fairfield County, Ghostbusters, high school, Inquisition, Manhattan KS, middle school, midwest, only child, Red Scare, Salem Witch Trials, Sigourney Weaver, society

My Predications on The Walking Dead Season Finale

All I can say before the season finale of The Walking Dead this weekend is: DO NOT KILL CAROL OR DARYL!

There. I feel better now.

And for those of you who have not watched this season's previous episodes, don't read the rest of this post because I am about to bitch slap this series, and will use a whole bunch of spoilers to prove my point.

Episode 212: "Better Angels" ended with Shane's death. Now, I happened to beleive that Shane was a brilliantly conceived antagonist and that Jon Bernthal was a really good actor. You know why I say this? Because I did not like Shane Walsh at all. In fact, by the end of "Better Angels" I was relieved that Rick killed him because he was becoming so dangerous to the group. But now here is where I get pissed off- why did they kill off the one character who actually had a personality?

Bernthal took that character, a small town police officer with a good-ole-boy attitude and transformed him into a violent, jealous killer.  But he did it slooowly…changing ever so slightly from the end of season one until his death last week. He didn't just wake up one day and turn into a the villian vs. Rick Grimes' superhero…. he simmered until all that zombie death and destruction and the loss of Lori just boiled over. The day he shaved his head was the day he crossed the threshold from innocent bystander to hostile witness. I didn't like him, but his character was completely believable – every tribe always has a someone who goes against the staus quo.

So the Season Finale is this weekend, and I better not see Daryl or Carol bite the dust. Daryl is my favorite guy on the show; I always like the bad boys who rebel against society. He needs to be given meatier dialogue, though, and definately deserves more screen time. I am getting bored of watching him just walk around with a crossbow and avoid Carol's soulful gazes. Come on, writers! Give Daryl something to do! And when the hell is his brother going to show up and avenge his missing hand?

As for Carol, I find her quiet but intriguing. Actress Melissa McBride gives Carol a strong backbone despite her weak first impressions. The most emotionally devasting scene from the entire series occured when Sophia the walker came stumbling out of the barn. It was totally unexpected. Carol tried to get to her daughter, but Daryl wrapped his arms around her and they both collapsed to the ground. Carol's heartbreak combined with Daryl's disbelief was powerful to watch – I felt so sorry for the Grimes Gang and everything they had lost due to the zombie outbreak.

On top of that, I want to see Carol and Daryl get together and snog. Of all the couples on the show, they have the most chemistry.

So who could die, and I would be OK with it? Well, Lori has turned out to be a bit of a loser. She is one of those females who plays on both sides of the fence, just to be safe. She keeps Rick by her side because he is currently the alpha male, but its pretty obvious that her allegiance is thin. If Shane had lived and become the alpha male, Lori would have quickly sided with him. Survival of the fittest, right? Can't blame her for her actions – if it was the end of the world and I had the two strongest guys in the Grimes Gang fighting over me, I would probably do the same thing. But I'm tired of her hair being in her face, and I'm also tired of her pouting. Being pregnant does not absolve her from being a simpering princess.

So my prediction for the season finale is that something bad is going to happen to Herschel, the farm is going to be over run and everyone is going to have to leave in search of a new safe place.  There may be more group separations coming, because I think Maggie will decide to stay on the farm, and will try to convince Glenn to stay with her. The Grimes Gang will run into Randall's group of dangerous humans and Merle Dixon, minus one hand, will be the leader of the group. This causes consternation with Daryl, who now must choose which group to join.

Oh, and wouldn't it be interesting if the kind and mild Morgan and his son Duane were now a part of  Randall's roving band of humans?

Hmmm… the possibilities are endless…. as long as NEITHER CAROL NOR DARYL GET KILLED.

There. I feel better again.

By the way – I just re-released Let It Bleed via Dark Continents Publishing. It is available on Amazon on this link. Try it – you'll like it!

Filed under: About Me Tagged: AMC's The Walking Dead, Grimes Gang, Let It Bleed, Rick Grimes, Rolling Stones, SL Schmitz, The Walking Dead, Walking Dead, zombie

My Top Ten Favorite Songs by the Monkees

Oh, Davy Jones- how I adored you when I was a tween! I owned 5 of the Monkees' albums on vinyl, and when they came out on CD, I bought those, too. I was such a fan of the 5'3″ bowl-cut little ex-jockey that I even owned one of his solo albums titled "Davy Jones". The songs on that silly album were just a bunch of bubblegum, but I still remember the lyrics to one of them:

"I'm sittin' in the apple tree, lookin' for a star… I'm sittin in the apple tree, wonderin' where you are…"

Not exactly poetry, but catchy and cheerful all the same. There was plenty of time later in teenage-hood for the Cure and the Smiths; Davy Jones made it alright to just be a girl in love with a teen idol. If you want to hear the song, follow this link.

And now that you're gone, I have spent time this week re-watching your Monkees episodes and listening to your music again. The shows are dated, but still entertaining, and I have enjoyed my Monkees flashback of psychodelia and moppet-to-hippie transformation.

Here are my top ten favorite Monkees songs, starting at number ten. It is immediately apparent that my taste for Mickey, Davy, Peter, and Mike ran to their quirkier tunes, and this list proves that theory:

10. "You Just May Be the One" — sung by Mike, it is the lyrics and the harmony of the chorus that draws me to this tune. I like how "deep" the thoughts are, conveying the idea that all men will eventually find the right women if they just live a proper lifestyle and be patient.

9. The Girl That I Knew Somewhere – another one sung by Mike. He wasn't really a soulful singer, but somehow his voice made this song both sweet and melancholy as he sings about a girl he has never met, but feels he already knows.

8. Writing Wrongs – trippy and dramatic and irreverant, this piano-based tune asks a bunch of dark questions which were deliciously "deep" to my prepubescent mind. In a strange way, this five minute long song by Michael Nesmith with the extensive instrumental in the middle is still current and has not aged.

7. Your Auntie Grizelda – Peter had the worst voice and the worst sense of timing of all the Monkees. He was my least favorite Monkee. But, this song still makes the list for two reasons: the first reason is that Grizelda is still one of the COOLEST names I have heard in my life! The second reason has to do with the whole off-tune, punk mentality that the first 30-seconds of Your Auntie Grizelda are just as good as anything your average local garage band could crank out.

6. Zor and Zam – this tiny little song, sung by Mickey with just minimal drum and guitar in the background had a powerful ending. "Two little kings, playing a game… they gave a war, and nobody came". There are wisps of Vietnam in this tune, and as a tween I had never heard anti-war propaganda before. Still resonants to this day.

5. Goin' Down – Mickey scatting and doing this odd shuffle with his feet – absolutely intoxicating! There is a saxophone and what must have been a very modern (back then) photography technique of double-exposing the film so that it looked like there were numerous Mickeys, all out of breath and putting on their best tribute to floating down some unnamed Southern river.

4. Gonna Buy Me A Dog – not really a song, but more of an outake of Mickey and Davy cracking really bad jokes. I liked it because it felt so personal – these guys were teen idols, and they were letting the listener in on their secret recording world.

3. Words — still wearing their matching red shirts and grey pants, but starting to dip their toes into hippie culture, Mickey and Peter harmonize on echoey-lyrics with back-up windchimes.  As is typical with Monkees' songs, this one goes from cool lyrics to a thunderous bridge. Definately symbolic of their turning point from bubblegum to true musicians.

2. Randy Scouse Git – Sporting long hair and tapestry-embroidered clothes, the boys sing a song using British slang demeaning people from Liverpool. Supposedly, this song was written by Mickey after the Monkees and the Beatles spent a night together partying. I love this song because it just sounds really good.

1. Daily Nightly – the best of the best, Moog keyboard and all. Hearing them all sound totally hip, with Mickey's earnest lyrics complementing the feedback from the keyboard. An intense, thoughtful, psychodelic song that perfectly captures the time and moment in which it was recorded.

Good-bye, Davy. We'll miss you.

Filed under: About Me Tagged: Beatles, Davy Jones, hippies, Michael Nesmith, Mickey Dolenz, Monkees, Moog, Peter Tork, psychodelic, solo album, vinyl

Thursday

There will always be a Light under the door.

It will shine brightly, waiting to be recognized and cherished. You see, I have a weakness. There are too many Februarys, despite the bits of rose petals and crystallized sugars woven into the layers of my hair.

How many times have I stood before this door, admiring the cracks in the walls where exposed tree roots wind around the chandelier, climb the staircase like a trellis. I have become a part of the sprawl, ankles and wrists bound and burdened by false tomorrows.

It just breathes through me, this Light, pulsing in prismatic heartbeats. I could touch it with my toes, but… it could break away, shatter, ride a wave to another horizon. I couldn't bear to lose it, this elusive promise of jeweled solvency.

The Light will always shine under this door, beckoning me, and I know I can never follow it. In order to believe that it will never go away, I must deny it deep into the Nairobi night.

Filed under: About Me Tagged: Light, Madame Bovary, S.L. Schmitz, SL Schmitz, Thursday

How to destroy a publishing company

On February 1, 2012 I made the announcement on my Facebook page and twitter account that I have parted ways with Trestle Press Publishing.

At my request, my serialized novel Mina's Daughter: The Harker Chronicles was removed from Trestle Press, and is no longer available for purchase on Amazon or Barnes & Noble.

In addition, I have been able to contact Liliana Sanches, the artist whose artwork had been stolen by Trestle Press and used without permission on the cover my novel. Ms. Sanches is an amazing artist, and a gracious person. She does not blame me for the stolen artwork, and I have gone ahead and made provisions to pay her a licensing fee as restitution, even though I am not the one to blame.

Mina's Daughter: The Harker Chronicles will be re-issued as a completed novel. Stay tuned for more details.

 

Filed under: About Me Tagged: accusations, art theft, deviantART, Dracula, Goodreads, Mina's Daughter, publishing company, S.L. Schmitz, Trestlegate