"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"

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.

A Baker's Dozen Of "White Christmas" Renditions

So, I've pulled 13 different versions of the same song for your holiday listening pleasure. Now it's up to you to decide which one you like best. I have my favorites among these – and ultimately, my single favorite – as I've noted here. But I'd love to hear your take on it too. Get used to this idea, by the way. I'm likely to do a couple more of these posts – all Christmas songs, of course! Enjoy!  ~  JH

1)  Rod Stewart  (Nice traditional take on a classic – isn't that David Foster on piano?)

2)  Michael Bublé & Kellie Pickler  (Classy cool with a dash of raucous redneck – not bad at all!)

3)  Cee-Lo Green  (Somehow Cee-Lo seems to make this song his own – well-done!)

4)  Lady Gaga  (Surprisingly subdued – plus, she wrote a new verse to it…and it's actually NOT nasty!)

5)  Tony Bennett  (Crooners and Christmas just seem to go together for some reason – a masterful jazz rendition.)

6)  Garth Brooks  (Hey, I found Garth Brooks on YouTube! I thought that was impossible! Nice version, too!)

Video wouldn't load properly –

 of course! – click link to view:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYfgWSF81TE

7)  Michael Bolton  (I'm not a huge fan of Bolton – I think he tries too hard at that blue-eyed soul thing – but I suppose this one isn't too bad.)

8)  Martina McBride  (I've always loved Martina's voice/music, and she doesn't disappoint here either – surprise, surprise!)

9)  Il Divo  (A little too slow for my tastes, but there's no denying that these guys are mega-talented.)

10)  Kelly Clarkson  (I wish this were an actual video, but whatevs… Kelly is, as always, fantastic on this song.)

11)  Glee Cast  (Not surprisingly, Darren Criss and Chris Colfer knock this one out of the park!)

12)  The Drifters  (Often-copied, never-duplicated – this is the group that originally recorded the doo-wop, Motown-style version of the song made über-famous on the Home Alone soundtrack.)

13)  Bing Crosby  (For my money, Crosby's is the quintessential version of what is truly a quintessential Christmas song. Many have performed it well, but no one does it better than Bing!)

"Push" & "Pull" Songs

Okay, so maybe there aren't as many popular artists in this collection of songs, but that doesn't mean the quality of this post is diminished in any way. In fact, it might make it even better. Enjoy!  ~  JH

1)  Avril Lavigne  ~  "Push"

2)  Mikky Ekko  ~  "Pull Me Down"

3)  Kurt Nilsen  ~  "Push Push"

4)  Secondhand Heart  ~  "Pull Out My Stitches"

5)  Lenny Kravitz  ~  "Push"

6)  Nikka Costa  ~  "Push & Pull"

7)  Lupe Fiasco  ~  "Kick Push"

8)  Kaki King  ~  "Pull Me Out Alive"

9)  No Doubt ft. Busy Signal & Major Lazer  ~  "Push And Shove"

10)  Grace Jones  ~  "Pull Up To The Bumper"

11)  Matchbox Twenty  ~  "Push"

12)  Angelique Sabrina  ~  "Pull Up"

13)  Garbage  ~  "Push It"

14)  Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers  ~  "Don't Pull Me Over"

15)  Jackyl  ~  "Push Comes To Shove"

16)  R.E.M.  ~  "Feeling Gravity's Pull"

17)  Miriam Bryant  ~  "Push Play"

18)  Dream Theater  ~  "Pull Me Under"

19)  The Parlotones  ~  "Push Me To The Floor"

20)  Gary Clark, Jr.  ~  "When My Train Pulls In"

A Literal Interpretation Of Dr. Dre's "Nuthin' But A G Thang"

Like the previous two installments of this newfangled notion of mine, this is a word-for-word, line-by-line translation – or reinterpretation – of this song's lyrics. I have taken out all the slang, all the profanity, and all the contractions, so all that's left is what the artist is actually talking about in the song...I think. Of course, this is all done tongue-in-cheek, so I hope you'll find it as entertaining to read as it was to recreate. For a side-by-side comparison of the original song lyrics, click here. WARNING: The original lyrics are quite explicit. The lyrics below are not. Enjoy?  ~  JH

"Nuthin' But A "G" Thang"

as performed by Dr. Dre featuring Snoop Doggy Dogg

[Snoop Doggy Dogg]

One, two, three, and then comes four.

Snoop Doggy Dogg and Dr. Dre are on your doorstep.

We are ready to make an entrance

So please get out of our way.

(As you recall, we nearly had to destroy things recently.)

First, hand me the microphone

In order that I may pop like a soap bubble.

Compton and Long Beach are in cahoots.

Of course you know, this means trouble for you.

It is nothing more than a gangster thing, newborn child!

Two armed gangsters who have lost their minds.

Death Row is the record label that signs my paychecks.

We are unable to fade

So please do not attempt to fade us.

(Oh, yes!)

But, yes, back to the lecture at hand.

We have perfected perfection

Therefore I will allow them to understand

From the perspective of a young gangster.

And before I excavate a female dog

I must locate a personal protection device.

It is impossible to know whether or not

The person in question is working for her friend

Or whether she is teaching him something

Or whether she is setting him on fire.

As you know, I am not interested

In anything like that, high-ranking officer.

No feline deserves to be burned alive

While I am scratching it under the chin.

(Yes.)

This is a statement that is truer

Than Evander Holyfield himself.

All of you who sell yourselves 

For money or pleasure

Will understand how I feel about this.

If it – whatever "it" is – is good enough

To bankrupt me, upon my taking 

A decent-sized piece of it

Then I will simply take for myself 

A small amount, no matter how admirable it may be.

[Hook: Snoop Doggy Dogg]

It is like this and it is like that and it is like this and also...

It is like this and it is like that and it is like this and also...

It is like this and it is like that and it is like this and also…

Dr. Dre, approach the microphone stealthily

In a ghostlike manner.

[Dr. Dre]

Well, I am looking, and I am approaching stealthily

And I am being an annoying person.

But I was nearly noticed when my beeper started beeping.

Now is the time for me to make a good impression.

So sit back, relax, and secure your seatbelt.

You have never taken an automobile ride
Like this one previously.

I am a producer who raps well
And I am in control of the conductor.

While simultaneously I make rap music
That is quite excellent.

As you and I are both aware
I rap in a traditional yet wonderful way.

In addition, the song which I am now rapping
Is symbolic of drugs.

Sample the drug I am offering, but please do not choke on it.

If you do, then it is obvious that you are clueless

Of what my associate Snoop Dogg and I
Are attempting to do here.

[Hook: Snoop Doggy Dogg & Dr. Dre]

It is like this and it is like that and it is like this and also...

It is like this and it is like that and it is like this and also...

It is like this and it is like that and it is like this and also…

Now relax for a bit, until the next episode is set to air...

[Snoop Doggy Dogg]

I am slipping down and falling on my buttocks.

But I do so in such a manner 

That gangsters would be proud of me.

My rap skills can be likened 

To a rotting vat of collard greens.

My name is spelled like this: Capital S, that is right.

I am awesome. Then comes N, two O's, and a P.

The next part of my name is spelled like this:

D – O – G – G – Y – 

Then D – O – G – G – do you understand?

I flex my vocal muscles mightily 

Whenever the time is right to ruin a microphone.

I participate in human trafficking, and I wield weapons

As though my name were Dolomite.

Yes, and it never ceases.

I think the listeners are in the mood to hear

Some mindless talk about being a gangster.

So, Dre –  

(What is going on, Dogg?)

They want something, and we must deliver it. 

(What is that, Gangster?)

We have to tear off a piece of something.

(Oh, yes!)

And it must be quite loud.

(City of Compton!)

[Dr. Dre]

That is where this takes place, so I ask you to pay attention.

I am traveling rapidly like someone who commits incest

With his mother. But I am not hanging people.

My skillful rapping
Makes insecure African-Americans uncomfortable.

When I rap, my adversaries crumble like crispy cookies.

If you attempt to approach me, I will spank you.

My esteemed associate Doggy Dogg supports me on this.

I must never slip. Because if I do slip, then I will be slipping.

But as long as I have my 9mm pistol
You know I am being ridiculous.

I will continue to rap, and I will continue to be smooth.

If your female companions talk bad about me

I will have to physically assault them.

Yes, and you never cease.

As I mentioned, I am much like a clock

In that I tick and I also tock.

But I am never switched off. I am always on.

Until dawn breaks over C – O – M – P – T – O – N

And the city called Long Beach.

We are constructing things.

Like my African-American associate D.O.C. said

No one is able to do what I do any better than I do it.

[Hook: Dr. Dre & Snoop Doggy Dogg]

It is like this and it is like that and it is like this and also...

It is like this and it is like that and it is like this and also...

It is like this – we do not love those people.

Now relax for a bit, until the next episode is set to air...