Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Songs About "Something," Vol. 2

This is part 2 of 2, a compilation of songs with "Something" in the title. The last song in this collection is the inspiration behind this latest dumb idea of mine. Enjoy!  ~  JH



1)  Mark Wills  ~  "19 Somethin'"




2)  John Mayer  ~  "Something Like Olivia"




3)  Hanson  ~  "Thinking 'Bout Somethin'"




4)  Elton John  ~  "Something About The Way You Look Tonight"




5)  Aaron Tippin  ~  "You've Got To Stand For Something"




6)  Parachute  ~  "Something To Believe In"




7)  Jamiroquai  ~  "You Give Me Something"




8)  Sugarland  ~  "Something More"




9)  Girls Aloud  ~  "Something New"




10)  Daft Punk  ~  "Something About Us"




11)  Secondhand Serenade  ~  "Something More"




12)  Two Door Cinema Club  ~  "Something Good Can Work"




13)  LeAnn Rimes  ~  "Something's Gotta Give"




14)  Poison  ~  "Something To Believe In"




15)  A Great Big World & Christina Aguilera  ~  "Say Something"


Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Songs About "Something," Vol. 1

So I had this not-terribly-earthshaking idea to compile and post a collection of songs with the word "Something" in the title. Trouble is, I found too many good ones I wanted to include. Too many for one post, at least. So here's a bunch of songs about "Something," and it's part 1 of 2. Enjoy?  ~  JH



1)  Jakob Dylan  ~  "Something Good This Way Comes"




2)  Crowded House  ~  "Something So Strong"




3)  Duran Duran  ~  "Is There Something I Should Know?"




4)  New Edition  ~  "Something About You"




5)  Jamie Cullum  ~  "Edge Of Something"




6)  Claire de la Fuente  ~  "Something In Your Eyes"




7)  Sanctus Real  ~  "Whatever You're Doing (Something Heavenly)"




8)  Dave Gahan  ~  "Saw Something"




9)  Paloma Faith  ~  "Do You Want The Truth Or Something Beautiful?"




10)  Nirvana  ~  "Something In The Way"




11)  Newton Faulkner  ~  "I Need Something"




12)  Christina Aguilera  ~  "Something's Got A Hold On Me"




13)  Naked Eyes  ~  "Always Something There"




14)  Bonnie Raitt  ~  "Something To Talk About"




15)  Christina Perri  ~  "Something About December"


Monday, December 16, 2013

Real Talk


As you may have noticed, I post lots of stuff on my blog that – while generally maintaining a modicum of entertainment value – is mostly a bunch of mindless drivel. Every now and then, I have to force myself to "get real" and write about things that actually matter. In particular, to write about myself (not saying that I actually matter) and what's going on in my life. This is one of those posts. Hang on!

To say that I have it all together would be a vast overstatement. I would say that I'm a slightly-better-than-decent father to Josiah (who's growing so fast I can hardly believe it – he'll be one year old next month!) and a marginally-better-than-adequate husband to Mary (whose jobs as a teacher and a mother are so all-consuming that she stays tired all the time, not to mention overwhelmed). And yet, in "accomplishing" these things, I'd have to admit that I'm a barely-scraping-by employee and a falling-far-short-of-the-mark Christian. I'm a terrible friend (more on that later) and a too-distant son/cousin/nephew/take-your-pick-of-relative. I'm okay in that I'm surviving, but not okay in the toll that it all takes.

I feel guilty for the wrong things I have done and I feel guilty for the right things I have not done. I beat myself up about everything and wonder why the bruises never go away.

Let's take a step back here. I am being dramatic. But at the same time I'm sugarcoating things. The lines blur together all too frequently.

There are times where I genuinely feel like a crazy person. I get angry for no reason, screaming at nothing and no one and everything and everyone. And just as quickly I retreat to my facade of calmness, like nothing ever happened.

I don't like talking about myself – it's embarrassing. But I'm doing it, and I'll probably regret it later.

I've been thinking about a lot of things lately, and one of them is friends. I looked back at my high school yearbook a week or so ago. I've always maintained that I had just two friends throughout high school, and that one of them betrayed and abandoned me, while the other one stuck by me and has remained a good friend even to this day. 

Well, upon reflection, I realize I actually had closer to seven people I could truly call my friends back then, and that, with only a couple of exceptions, I am still at least electronically connected to all of them now, even if we don't see or speak to each other personally.

Why does that matter? It probably doesn't, except that it got me thinking about the people I consider my friends. Which ones are actually my friends, and which are mere acquaintances? The unwelcome answer is that most are only acquaintances.

And why is that? Put simply, it's my fault. I'm selfish, withdrawn, introverted, and – I'll say it again – selfish. I don't now and have rarely ever put forth any significant effort into maintaining person-to-person relationships, namely friendships. It's not that I don't want to have friends to spend time with – I desperately do. But, like many other things in my life, I don't work at it hard enough, and friends and friendships fall by the wayside.

I'm a flake. You can't count on me, so why would you bother? And, knowing this about myself, I suppose I just try to live up to my low expectations, never getting too close to anyone, knowing full well that I'll disappoint them in the end anyway.

This emotional aloofness got me wondering recently whether or not I'm seriously messed up. I took a personality test I found online – the reliability of which I am well aware could be suspect – to see how crazy I might be. The results showed that I was well above-average in the Paranoid, Schizoid, Borderline, Histrionic, Avoidant, and Dependent categories; slightly above-average in the Schizotypal, Antisocial, and Obsessive-Compulsive categories; and well below-average in the Narcissistic category. 

I won't even pretend to know what all that means, or even give serious credence to the results. But the fact that I'm even somewhat concerned about all this has to mean something, right?

Okay, time to put a cap on what has truly been a depressing, self-revelatory post. But before I go, here's fair warning to any of you who may know me personally:  If I'm not doing so already, I'm probably going to disappoint you somehow. I don't know what your expectations of me may be, but I will probably not meet up to them, now or ever. If you consider me a friend, don't lose hope on me, but don't hold your breath either. I am somewhat unreliable; I may forget to call you for months at a time. If I put my mind to it, I can accomplish any task, great or small. But my mind is very scattered lately, and it may take some work to reassemble it properly. I'm a wreck, and not a beautiful wreck. But my chin is up. It's going to get better. Someday.

A Baker's Dozen Of "Santa Baby" Renditions

Since my last post like this one garnered a grand total of one "vote" (oh, I'm not bitter!), I've pulled 13 different versions of ANOTHER great holiday song for your listening pleasure. As before, it's up to you to decide which one you like best. I have my favorites – more than just one this time, actually. But I'd LIKE to hear your take on it too. Enjoy?  ~  JH




1)  Madonna  (Madonna, in her younger days, had the vocal chops and sex appeal to pull off this song with aplomb – this is an iconic version of a classic song!)




2)  Kylie Minogue  (What I said about Madonna just then, that goes double for this lady – except Kylie's not well past her prime, like Madonna is now)




3)  Ariana Grande ft. Liz Gillies  (Ariana's got a great voice, but the modernized instrumentation here takes away a lot of the charm and classic feel of the song.)




4)  Megan Nicole  (Self-made YouTube star Megan Nicole captures the essence and the sassiness of the song while keeping it sounding fresh and modern – well-done!)




5)  Kellie Pickler  (Some songs simply don't sound as good with a massively overblown country twang – I think this is one of them.)


Video wouldn't load properly – click link to view:




6)  Colbie Caillat  (I love, love, love Colbie Caillat, but…she's just too sweet for a song this sassy. When she croons, "I've been an angel this year," you actually believe her!)




7)  Taylor Swift  (She's plucky, spunky, and quite pretty, but – like Colbie Caillat – Taylor just seems too innocent for this song. Plus, the country-pop instrumentation on this one lacks the jazzy feel of the original.) 




8)  Glee Cast  (With her exotic good looks and sultry vocals, Naya Rivera is the perfect GLEE cast member to tackle this classic song!)




9)  Miss Piggy  (Everyone's favorite porcine diva is just right in this doo-wop-inspired rendition of a holiday classic. And it's awfully funny, too!)




10)  Shakira  (This is definitely one of the best modern versions of this song I've ever heard. Her voice, her look, that slight hint of an accent – it's just perfect!)




11)  Pussycat Dolls  (If anyone could wring all the subtle double entendres out of this song's lyrics and bring them to the forefront, it would be the Pussycat Dolls. The fact that they're singing the song to Snoopy Doggy Dogg dressed as Santa Claus – whom they refer to in the song as "Santa Bizzle" – just ramps up the weird factor that much more! #smh)




12)  Jenna Sousa  (If seeing and hearing a 12-year-old girl sing this decidedly adult-oriented holiday song doesn't make you more than a little uncomfortable, you might be a pedophile. Also, she kind of sucks at singing it.)




13)  Eartha Kitt  (Of all the excellent versions of this song that have been recorded in the ensuing years, none quite surpasses Kitt's original recording. This has gotta be – hands down – my favorite one.)


"Rise" & "Fall" Songs

Oh, look! Another "Opposites" music post. Yeah. What's your point? Enjoy!  ~  JH



1)  MIKESCHAIR  ~  "Let The Waters Rise"




2)  The Donnas  ~  "Fall Behind Me"




3)  Shawn McDonald  ~  "Rise"




4)  Banks  ~  "Fall Over"




5)  The Skints  ~  "Rise Up"




6)  Juris  ~  "I Don't Want To Fall"




7)  Redlight King  ~  "Born To Rise"




8)  Brendan James  ~  "The Fall"




9)  Jenny Lewis and The Watson Twins  ~  "Rise Up With Fists"




10)  Razorlight  ~  "Before I Fall To Pieces"




11)  Alabama Shakes  ~  "Rise To The Sun"




12)  Gin Blossoms  ~  "Until I Fall Away"




13)  Eddie Vedder  ~  "Rise"




14)  R.E.M.  ~  "Fall On Me"




15)  Chris Tomlin  ~  "I Will Rise"




16)  Chromeo ft. Solange Knowles  ~  "When The Night Falls"




17)  Dido ft. A. R. Rahman  ~  "If I Rise"




18)  Clay Walker  ~  "Fall"




19)  Flobots  ~  "Rise"




20)  Rise Against  ~  "Ready To Fall"


Thursday, December 12, 2013

Stories # 70 & # 71: "After The Beep" & "No Longer With Us"


Okay, where to begin with these two short stories? Firstly, no, neither one of them is about me personally, though both are loosely based on true stories. Secondly, yes, the first story is written from a female perspective. Whether I succeeded in that attempt or not, I'm not sure, but I'd like to think it rings pretty true. Thirdly, yes, these tales are heavier and more serious than most of the drivel I usually post here. But sometimes I get inspired to write heavier, more serious pieces, and I simply have to go with it. All that being said, I hope you'll enjoy reading these as much as I enjoyed writing them.  ~  JH



"AFTER THE BEEP"


I never wanted to be found. I'd carefully constructed my life in such a way that I could be genuinely happy without ever again acknowledging or revisiting my former life.

My family always knew where to find me – I wasn't hiding from them. Not to mention that I did and still do see them at least twice a year, three or four times if they're able to make the trip up here for a visit.

It wasn't that my life was anything to be ashamed of – it wasn't. It was simply that there were things, there were people, that I wanted to – no, had to – leave behind forever in order to be truly content.

There was a boy, so many years ago now. I know he loved me, though he never said the words. I think he even thought of me as his girlfriend in the way that only naive, misguided youths are able to imagine their own realities. 

If I am honest with myself, as I most likely never have been in this case, I may have loved him too. At least a little. Though probably not for the same reasons as he loved me – or thought he did.

The irony of it all is that at some point, he seemed to put his feelings for me aside, and all the awkwardness, the "no, thank you" answers I'd given him the few times he'd actually asked me out, seemed to melt away. And we became friends. Good friends, really.

That's why I could never go back there, to that place where I know he still lives. Because I might see him, and things might change. Perhaps he still thinks of me as his friend, the friendship we built towards the end his lasting recollection. Perhaps the love he once felt has lingered, perhaps it has even grown.

I have a great life now. I have been married for the better part of a decade, and my husband and I have four wonderful children. Blessings, all of them.

So when the phone rang just now, and I casually glanced at the caller ID – an innovation that barely existed back in the day – and I read his name on the display screen, I froze. The questions started flowing.

How did he find me? How did he know where to look? Why is he calling me after all this time? Doesn't he realize I have a family now? Can I bring myself to speak to him?

The phone stops ringing after chiming five times, and the answering machine chirps its cheery message. It's my voice, my words. Of course it is. Why couldn't it have been my husband who'd made the recording? But it was me.

At the sound of the beep, there's a moment of hesitation. The sound of his sigh mimics my own, though he couldn't have heard mine. And then he speaks. His voice is deeper now, his tone more measured than I've ever heard it. He says hello and my name, not wondering if he's reached the correct number, knowing that he has. He asks how I've been, and tells me that he's thought of me often throughout the years, but has never had the courage to call till now. His next words stop my breath once more.

He implores me not to worry, he's not some crazed stalker, not some lovestruck psychopath bent on avenging his unrequited affection. He just wanted to say hello. He promises never to call again, assures me that this will be his first and only attempt to make contact. In case I feel like talking, he adds, here's his telephone number. The all-too-familiar area code comes through loud and clear, as do the first three digits of the number, but then the beep rings out and the recording ends abruptly. 

I know the entire telephone number will be stored on the caller ID, that I can retrieve it as easily as I could have picked up the phone. But for some reason, I think he will call back and recite the last four digits of the number. And maybe, just maybe, this time I will answer it instead of letting the machine pick up.

I wait for five minutes, which seems impossibly like five times that long. The phone doesn't ring again. Staring at it blankly changes nothing. 

My son's voice coming from the room behind me breaks the eerie silence. He's skinned his knee, and though he's not actually crying, he's definitely on the verge. I know the feeling.

As I scoop my son into my arms and whisper words of comfort in his ear, I can't keep myself from thinking about the phone call. What would it have hurt to pick up the phone? How would it have complicated things?

I have a happy life. I have no regrets to speak of, and I honestly wouldn't change a thing. And yet.




"NO LONGER WITH US"


She used to iron her shirts while she was wearing them. It was pretty impressive. I only saw her burn herself once, and even that was just the back of one finger.

She liked the Bee Gees. Who knows why? She had a deep singing voice, like a guy's almost. But when she got to the chorus she'd break out into falsetto like nobody's business. I've never seen or heard anything more entertaining.

She pronounced the word "tomato" like this: "TOE-may-TWO." I never asked her why, because I figured it'd make her self-conscious and she'd stop, and I didn't want her to.

Her favorite number was 37. She never explained that one, either. Incidentally, she never did reach that many years on earth. Missed it by a month.

She drove a Volkswagen Bug long after it was popular to do so. But then again, she was never much into popular things. Or people. Like me, for example.

She was completely unashamed about her nose, and believe me, she had every reason to be. Her "honker," as she liked to call it, was a sign of her heritage, the only visible link she had to her ancestors.

She looked beautiful. But more importantly, she was beautiful. I don't think I need to explain the difference.

I hate them for what they did to her. She didn't deserve it. None of them did. She was just doing her job. Training young minds, managing a variety of personalities, trying to hang onto her sanity.

She didn't suffer. So I was told, at least. The door to her classroom wouldn't lock, so she'd barricaded it as best she could with her desk and some of the students' work tables. The gunmen were strong enough that it didn't matter. 

The doors burst open, the bullets flying already. She went down hard, collapsing into several of her students. The kids were okay. Shaken, scarred, but alive. They'd only come for the teachers.

Before it was all over, before they were apprehended, nine precious ladies had perished. Including her.

She'd kissed me goodbye that morning, a little longer and deeper than the requisite peck. Almost as if she knew. Which she couldn't have.

I am here. Shaken, scarred, but here. But she is no longer with us. It isn't fair.