Having a blast here in my home away from home, Austin Texas! Highlight? Can’t help myself, MIke Stinson! Sigh. Second – James Intveld, 3rd – Dale Watson, 4th – The Wagoneers. I hear Jack White is setting up on the street all over town and playing guitar, haven’t caught that yet!!!
Posts Tagged ‘Mike Stinson’
cannot believe the end of Summer is nigh . . . sigh. Almost my birthday again . . . sheesh! Have been so bloody busy lately; loads of travel. When your boyfriend lives 1500 miles away, what’s a girl gonna do? I can’t bear to miss him play (in every way) for too long! Just visited him for a few days, saw several gigs which make my heart sing. . . his version of Dion’s “Love Came To Me” takes me to a place I didn’t even know existed-pure musical bliss, coupled with my early teen obsession, buying his 45s at the Reseda Record Rack. . . the glory of it is beyond words…and I like Houston, and Houston likes Mike Stinson. He is nominated for 4 Houston Music Awards and you can vote here: http://polls.houstonpress.com/polls/hou/mas2010/
I also taught another writing workshop in New York with my fantabulous Manhattan dolls, 18 of them! We had a blast! I plan to be back there in November for another round. I stay with sweet Sharon Ackerman, the hostess with it all!
I am now in Novato, Ca visiting my James Dean pal, Toni Lee Scott. . . she and Jimmy were very close. Can you imagine? What a story! I wrote a script about them which is still AVAILABLE!
Last weekend I took 10 people on my 8th (9th?) Rock Tour of Hollywood & Laurel Canyon. . .and it was a first for even me! Our screenwriter for HBO’s upcoming “I’m WIth the Band,” the crazily gifted Jill Soloway came along and wanted to peruse my actual diaries, and as I thumbed through those Very Important Tomes, I came across a map that Gram Parsons drew for me back in 1969, directions to their new pad off Woodrow Wilson Drive, “Burrito Manor.” He wrote “Look for the Brick Pillars,” and lo and be-be-behold, they were still there! I even wrote a song/poem called “Brick Pillars” about my love for Mr. Hillman.
That’s where I met my goddaughter, Polly Parsons when GP asked me to babysit her. She was almost a year and a half, an exquisite, serious little toddler. I hadn’t been there since they moved out n 1970. My soul thrummed dolls and sprouted wings- as you can see!
Check out my man’s video dolls, with me as the tragic main character – great job Jesse and Emily!! Sigh…
Music video for Mike Stinson’s “Slip My Mind” from his new record “Jukebox in Your Heart” on Stag Records.
February 14-a sad Valentine’s day for me, dolls. I lost a very close, beloved friend, Doug Feiger, to cancer today. He fought that bugger so valiantly and gracefully for over five years, and became a better man in the process. Doug inspired so many of us by sharing his courage and optimism and ultimate acceptance of his plight. His determination staved off that beast way longer than his doctors predicted. He was the snappiest dresser, the poppiest singer, the most self-possessed conversationalist. . . I miss his presence acutely already, although I felt him near me today. He told me to take care of myself. I loved/love him dearly . . . I will be reading for him nightly from The American Book of the Dead, and hopefully assist him on his journey . . .
I have been laid low with 2 versions of icky chest ailments that have had me on 2 different antibiotics for the last 3 weeks. That incredibly fast-track mini tour I did interviewing groupie goddesses in the snow took its toll on me bigtime. The pace, planes, eating on the run, freezing my tits off, being ON every day and night wreaked havoc with my usually sunny immunity. But, hey, I’ll recover any minute now, right?
I did start 2 new writing workshops last week however, and all the dolls are, as usual, groovy and gifted sweethearts, every one. I am always amazed at the level of talent they
arrive with, and so many of the girls become fast friends from the outset. Like minded music loving females bonding with words!
I never even wrote about my New Year’s Eve, spent with my dear pal Iva Turner, watching our fave hot tamale rockabilly lord, James Intveld shred what was left of 2009. That year already sounds like so long ago, doesn’t it? We danced in 2010 and enjoyed it immensely. I did miss my boyfriend, Mike, having spent the last 6 New Year’s Eves with him . . . but, alas, he now resides in Houston.
I visited him last month and got to see him play a few stellar shows- one at his local home away from home, the Volcano Bar. His new song, “Late For My Funeral” bowled me over, he is so bloody talented. His 3rd album, “Jukebox In Your Heart” is being pressed as I write this! Yay! We cuddled and wooed and he took me to all the local thrift stores and vintage clothing joints. He had even stocked his kitchen with an array of gluten-free treats. Sigh. I actually took a Greyhound bus from Austin to Houston, after teaching my glorious students there, and is was quite a serene little jaunt. It was over all too fast and I am now counting the days until my next trip to Texas mid- March.
We’ve almost finished the VH1 rock doc “Let’s Spend the Night Together,” which should be airing in May. In L.A. I spent quality time in front of the cameras with Miss Mercy, Catherine James, Cassandra “Elvira” Peterson and Lori “Lightning” Mattix discussing the glory and heartbreak of groupiedom. I can’t wait for you all to hear their candid outrageous tales!
February started off with a dynamite explosion when some unknown somebody decided to report that Zooey Deschanel was going to play me in the upcoming HBO “I’m With the Band” pilot. I have been keeping kinda mum on the subject, waiting for the perfectly exquisite moment to announce the momentous news, but that particular somebody beat me to it. Oh well, it’s certainly good news, isn’t it dolls? I couldn’t be happier about Zooey – a rock loving dollface, vintage fashionplate, a stellar actress and kindred spirit. And HBO? My fave shows, “Big Love” and “In Treatment” say it all. We are in the midst of meeting with writers, and I will keep you updated as we move the project along!!!
I saw my pal Paul Reuben’s supercool Pee Wee Herman show at L.A.’s Nokia Theater last week (with James Intveld) and jaw-dropped in awe, I rollicked with laughter and had a blast. Paul said he will probably take it to Vegas or Broadway..eeny meeny miney moe???
I have to go put on my flannel jammies, dolls and rub my chest with Vick’s Vapor Rub and think of my sweet mommy who used to comfort me in that oh so familiar way…
Will write sooner than soon, promise…
Hello Dear Dolls o’ Mine!
Here’s hope hope hoping that you enjoyed your yummy Thanksgiving feasts and that you had a whole lot to be thankful and grateful for. I know I do, and try to thank the good Universe many times a day for all my blessings. Just drawing breath is a glorious gift. It’s been a busy dizzy season for me already, and I’m just popping in to give you dolls some lovin.’ My darling Mike Stinson was here from Houston for Thanksgiving and I prepared us heaping platefuls of free-range turkey (god love the gobbler!) yams, mashed taters, many many veggies and some incredible gluten-free organic berry pies that I get from a savvy baker here on the Westside.
The next morning we got up and drove to Vegas for a couple of nights. Primm, actually, which is the border into Nevada. It’s really for people who are salivating to gamble and can’t wait another 40 minutes to hit good ol’ Lost Wages proper. One of our mutual faves, Dwight Yoakam was playing Buffalo Bill’s, so it was a perfect opportunity for a little romantic getaway. Our musician whiz pals, Josh Grange and Eddie Perez are in Dwight’s band and we spent some quality time with them under a huge fake tree with gold-mining dummies above us panning for faux gold and holding phony guitars. Once inside the casino, you’re surrounded by an ersatz version of a vintage western town amidst the shrill clink clank beep beep of the one arm bandits. It’s kind of like a bizarre version of Disney’s Frontierland. I think the powers-that-be want to lull you into a fantasy world where you might believe your money is as fake as the bewigged western mannequins, and toss it around like Monopoly dollars. Luckily, neither Mike or I have any interest in throwing our dough down the fictitious drain of folly.
Dwight was on fire, especially with his hot young raging band revving him up. He was in divine voice and still sliding those long skinny legs around the stage at age 52. The gals were screaming and swooning. Dwight recorded one of Mike’s genius tunes, “Late Great Golden State,” a few years ago and its on 2 of his albums. The drive to Primm was cool, but coming back we got stuck in Vegas traffic . . . so what, just being with Mike ANYWHERE is magic. I sure do miss his face now that he resides in Houston. It’s my turn to visit him next. I realized that I have been in love with him longer than any other fella except my ex hubby, Michael. 6 years in February. Sigh. If you haven’t heard his music, dolls, check him out! www.mikestinson.net. We did get into Vegas for some fine vintage thrifting. Mike got the most wicked pair of 70s Larry Mahan patchwork boots you’ll ever see.
On another note…whenever I have guests, they wonder who the heck is that old man with the long gray beard, positioned prominently on my wall. My precious soul brother, Walt Whitman, is often mistaken for my grandfather. It’s comforting to know that Uncle Walt is out there, whirling around in the cosmos, singing the body electric for all eternity. It’s a very long story, my attachment to Walt, and he will be heavily featured in my upcoming tome, ‘Blinded By the Light-Confessions of a Gurupie,” but I’d like to share a little tidbit with you now. A tale of manifestation. I knew that Walt’s fave image of himself was a photo taken towards the end of his robust life, and I set out to find a copy of it for my very own. I called several photographic agencies to no avail. Frustrated, I was still determined to find that photo! Aha! “Why don’t I just ask Walt to find it for me?” I thought. After all, I felt very close to his spirit, indeed. So I beseeched Mr. W. to lend me a cosmic hand. A couple of weeks later, my ex, MDB took me to a swap meet in Malibu. It was a lovely day as we strolled among the collectibles and treasures, hand in hand. As we turned one corner, I saw something miraculous and actually stopped in my tracks and rubbed my baby blues. Could it be? At the very end of the row, a large painting sat high upon an easel. As I got closer, I realized joyously, yes! It was the very image of Walt Whitman that I had been seeking. A flawless, living, breathing oil painting of the Great Poet smack dab in front of me. Breathless, I asked the seller “How much is Walt?” he was so impressed that I knew who it was that he offered me the majestic artwork for $600. I didn’t have that much, so he kindly let me pay it off, and one fine day I brought Walt home with me. That was about a dozen years ago and the painting continues to bring me constant joy, and a reminder that we create our own miracles by believing in them. Recently I discovered that the artist, Roberto Lupetti, worked on the restoration of the Sistine Chapel before he passed on in the mid nineties, and that dear old Walt is worth quite a bundle! Of course, he’s staying right where he is, under a poster of my all-girl band, The GTOs.
“Wonderful how I celebrate you and myself!
How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around!
How the clouds pass silently overhead!
How the earth darts on and on! and how the sun, moon, stars, dart on and on!
How the water sports and sings! (surely it is alive!)
How the trees rise and stand up, with strong trunks, with branches and leaves!
(Surely there is something more in each of the trees, some living soul.)
Oh amazement of things-even the least particle!
Oh spirituality of things!”
Hi dolls o’ mine,
I have just returned from the far shores of Virginia, spent a week with my dear Mike Stinson at his mom’s beauteous pad right on the ‘creek’ in Bayford.
Their idea of a creek is pretty amusing as it is miles and miles long and extremely wide to boot. I have visited Susan several times and wanted to see Mike for my birthday, so grabbed the opportunity to meet with him there. It was a relaxing, sweet and slightly melancholy experience because he now lives in Houston and our time was short. We celebrated my 9-9-09 day with a few friends and a bunch of gluten free honey cupcakes, a big surprise from Susan. . . luscious and yummy.
I was toasted at 9:09 PM and my head spun with #9,#9.#9!!! Mike chose such perfect gifts for me, a cowgirl purse, some bracelets with big chunky gems, and a cool vintage cowgirls shirt that fit perfectly. One of my heroes, the 86 year old artist, ‘Babbie’ came to the little bash and I was honored.
I met her years ago and we connected like kindred dolls because she is a member of the church of religious Science and actually KNEW one of the founders and brilliant thinkers, Emmet Fox. She is collected by many folks on the Eastern shore and paints with her heart. Her paintings live, breathe and move like Van Gogh’s do. She really shocked me last year when she asked for a photo so she could paint ME! Zowie, what a spectacular honor!
Mike and I thrifted, (Check out my ebay auctions this week!) and ate lots of crab and shrimp, stayed up late to watch ‘darkness files,’ (those scary tawdry tales on Tru TV) and gazed into each others’ eyes, as usual.
I came home to a couple of high powered meetings and I hope t be telling you all some incredible news very soon!!
Next week I make my annual (sometimes tri-annual) trek to Fairmount, Indiana to commune with James Dean’s very sensual ghost. I have made so many good friends there and I often actually LONG to be in that quaint little town, walk the same streets Jimmy walked down, the sidewalks haven’t been updated since the 20s. . . I feel his footprints and sly madness everywhere. 2 years ago, my dear pal Lenny & I came in second place in the dance contest and I want to enter again, wearing my finest crinolines and spike heels. Somehow his death day, September 30, has becoe a huge event, with 50,000 rockabillies arriving in their 50s Deanmobiles. He’s cracking up in heaven I’m sure.
I hope some of you dolls can make it to New Jersey for the Chiller Autograph event over Halloween. It’s my first one and I am printing up a bunch of photos and cds. . . then I’ll be teaching my first writing workshop in Manhattan Nov. 2-3. I’m thrilled! I am teaching my bi- annual Austin workshop Oct. 16-17 . . . come join us, you hot Texas angels!
I have been fairly freaked out by the scary Republican depictions of our president as a Nazi and an African native with a bone through his nose. Can we call just send our handsome, thoughtful prez some love and light to counteract the hatred? And then lets send some more love to those hate mongers. . . maybe it will do them some
Love you all,
Greetings my dear dolls!
I had a small gathering of my darling doll-pals to celebrate my birthday a few days early last night, and it was such a comfy sweet groove. I adore my girlfriends. . . yummy red velvet cake was gluten-free and deee-lish! Lots of tasty potluck and thoughtful gifts. My friend Vicki made me some ‘bottle art’ and included a photo of me and my new fave-rave, Jack White. Talk about Yum. Loads of Elvis prezzies – my girls know me well! One of them asked about my Top 5 and it’s actually 6.
3. Walt Whitman
4. James Dean.
5. Mary Magdalene
6. Bob Dylan.
In no particular order except Numero Uno! Rounding out the Top Ten would be All Four Beatles and William Blake. Eleven, but who’s counting? I leave before dawn tomorrow to visit Mike Stinson, my bf of over 5 years. We visit his mom on the Eastern Shore often, and I just found out it will be pouring with rain on my actual birthday, 9-9-09! I am meeting him at the Houston airport and will be stunningly excited, as I haven’t seen him in 2 months! He moved away, alas, to pursue his music career in Texas, where it is already going swimmingly for him.
My next Rock Tour of Hollywood and Laurel Canyon is October 3–come see where I rolled around with Jim Morrison! And I just decided to hold a writing workshop in Fairmount, Indiana on my annual trek to James Dean holy ground. It will be at my dear pals, Dave & Lenny’s James Dean Gallery September 29. Let me know if you can attend! I feel so at home in that tiny midwestern town. I love to loll and laze at Jimmy’s grave and catch him up on all my latest shenanigans. I also have a 2 nighter coming up in Austin, Oct 16-17, and another in Manhattan Nov 2-3. Come meet me and get your muse to wake up and scribble! I am also one of the guests at the upcoming Chiller even in Jersey Oct.30-Nov.1, and will be selling GTOs cds, photos, shirts etc. Ann Margret is going to be there. Wowie! She touched the king, she shimmied with him Viva Las Vegas, baby!
Every day I still wake up and say ‘Yay!’ I am always excited about something and that’s the way it should be. Remember dolls, we’re all in this together.
Shake rattle and roll . . .
I am feeling a bit low this evening as my darling boyfriend of over 5 years, Mike Stinson, has decided to make a move to Houston, Tx to keep his country music dream alive. When we first started hanging, the alt-roots-Americana-country scene was in full swing in L.A., and Mike was the well-known King of Hollywood Honky Tonk. I silently thanked my long lost pal, Gram Parsons for turning me onto the country music greats back in The Day, or I might never have come in contact with one of the Great Loves of my Life.
But lately the roots scene has dwindled to almost nothing and Mike needs to be heard. I completely understand why he has to go, and I encourage his courage and bravery to pack up all his cares & woes, George Jones records, Merle Haggard posters, guitars and cowboy suits and try to make a brand new start in another town. But it makes me so damn sad. We are best friends as well as being wildly in love, and yikes, I’m gonna miss that closeness and understanding, hilarity and love-of-the-same-music that we share. It’s times like this that I have to rely on my hard-won spiritual strength and inner guidance.
I do believe I have actually learned that to accept WHAT IS, may be the ultimate lesson in life. If you don’t accept the cold hard (or warm soft) facts, you slam up against that infernal wall until you bloody yourself and not a damn thing will change. So, Mike is driving off into the very bright sunlight and I accept it. I’ll be lonely and probably pace ’round and ’round my pad, especially on the weekends, but I will get through it. Houston isn’t on the other side of the world, thank goodness, and I’m sure I will accrue lots of frequent flyer miles winging my way to that reddest of states to gaze into the hazel-brown eyes of the man I love.
I do have a swell trip coming up which will hopefully take my heartache temporarily away. This Thursday, I will be winging my way to Roma, darlings, one of my very favorite places to be! I am being honored (yippee!) at the “Just Like a Woman” festival in Genoa, Liguria ~ a divine seaside town, where I shall be wined, dined and feted. How lucky am I? And my groovy Italian publicist, Alex Izzo has secured tickets and passes to see the BOSS! I know that for 3 hours plus I will be dancing up a storm in rock & roll heaven…
silky pajamas at 3:30 PM.
Mike played a solo acoustic show at McCabe’s last night and had them enthralled from the first twang of his Ray Price signed guitar. It was happy and sad all at once because he has decided to relocate to Houston in a few weeks to try his luck as a real true country musician in Texas. After a dozen years in L.A. he should be a Big as it Gets, and he IS the King of the LA Country Scene, which has unfortunately started to dwindle. Mike is the Real Thing – George, Merle, Waylon, Ray Price, not a so-called Modern Country singer, the type that gushes out of Nashville these days. His songs are beyond brilliant, amusing, self-effacing, charming, literate, loving….I could go on and on…I will miss my man like Elvis missed his mama. We have been side by side for 5 plus years…oh well, dolls. Life must go on. And I have a busy one, thank goodness…
I have yet another reason to be proud of who I am, as the great Merle Haggard said…I was the first female judge at the 7th annual Air Guitar championships in LA Friday night at the world famous Troubadour. (I once waltzed across the street with the Byrds/Burrito Bros. drummer, Mike Clarke, so he could take a whizz in the phone booth because the little boy’s room was taken). My ultra-talented Webmistress, Kathleen Morgan, accompanied me right into the judgesbooth where I shared a big black Marks-a-Lot with the handsome and debonair Jeff B. Davis. After 5 omething-or-others on the rocks, Jeff leaned over to me and said, “I understand why all those musicians wanted to sleep with you…” compliment or not? You be the judge…
I wish I could say I saw some stellar air fairy performances, but it was mostly all blow with no show. The Japanese Elvisy guy came in second and he should have won. If you haven’t seen the documentary on this absurdist phenom, be sure to log on to Netflix and reserve your copy. I love that the finals take place in Helsinki, Finland, a place I have visited, and adore because they publish my books there in Finnish!!!
Two Big Meetings this week, one for my groupie doc…and please groupie dolls, send me your mot VIP tales – you never know who might get into this VH1 movie, along with the divine groupies in Let’s Spend the Night Together…also have a meeting regarding turning BAND into a musical. Great idea, yes?
And tomorrow, I have my weekly One-to-One at my handy dandy Apple store ~ determined to be able to do the complete dosey-do with my