Howdy from Oklahoma! I don’t have a lot to say in this intro so LET’S GO
Well, I’m finally back home. While I was waiting for my suitcase at the Tulsa International Airport baggage claim last Tuesday, I looked around and realized that I missed my Marcus, I missed my stuff, but I did not miss Oklahoma. Two out of three will have to do. (I also didn’t miss my house, I really want a different one, but that is definitely a story for another day.)
Now I’m back in the groove I guess, busy AF as the kids say. Actually, I don’t think life in general is any busier, but I’m adding more things to my Reminders app and trying to do them. I have found that being able to cross things off a list is a good motivational tool. And so far my new Apple Watch is too—I’ve successfully guilted myself into a lot more daily movement. Their slogan should be Apple Watch: Perfect if you’ve self-diagnosed yourself as OCD. But all this, too, is a story for another day … Most likely my next post.
Today we’re talking about music. Sort of.
Music has been a big part of most of my life. Especially in high school. I loved Mod, went on to Punk for the angry teenage years, dabbled in 80s New Wave, Goth, and whatever the heck the Smiths were…
And then there was the Talking Heads.
They had a few songs on the radio back in the day, and I liked them just fine. I owned Little Creatures and maybe True Stories on vinyl. They were weird, but good. I didn’t listen to much of their earlier stuff, because too weird.
But I was a teenager. What did I know? I thought the Damned were the cat’s pajamas for Pete’s sake. (Don’t get me wrong, I’ll listen to “Smash it Up” or “New Rose” any day, but I can only take a few songs at a time anymore.)
Two weeks ago, on a whim, my friend Julie and I decided to go see the newly restored version of “Stop Making Sense” at a San Diego IMAX. That was one of the best decisions I’ve made in a while.
The film is being called “one of the greatest concert films of all time,” and for me, that statement rings true. I walked out of the theater blown away, mostly because I realized I had underestimated this band for 40 years. Oops. Julie felt the same way, and it was so perfect to see with one of my dearest friends, someone who has known me since those early days of musical discovery. I’m sure we bopped around in her dad’s Studebaker to a Talking Heads song or two back in the day.
Everything about “Stop Making Sense” is pitch-perfect: the concept of the show, the musicianship, the cinematography, and the remastered music. And with my new Loop earplugs, the volume was perfect!
It was emotionally immersive, it was frighteningly prescient. Beautiful to watch, even better to hear.
Music has always been a safe way for me to experience and process emotions, and there was a lot to the film that I never would have picked up on when I was in my teens or even twenties. But now … Now it Makes Sense.
Something about the songs feel so timely. So many things feel out of control in the world around us—climate change, the dumpster fire that is American politics, the Big Cheeto running wild in the court system…
To take 88 minutes out of my life to watch a group of incredible musicians come together to tell the story of making something bigger than themselves was just what I needed, even though I hadn’t known I needed it. I felt part of something bigger than me, I was brought into the story and the experience and it felt safe and good.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the movie. When I got back home, Marcus said that the live album from the film had been one of his favorites (I did not know this!) so I told him we needed to go see it. On Sunday, we went. It’s not on IMAX here, but I’m just glad it came to Tulsa at all. There were maybe six other people in the theater.
Yesterday I received some bad news regarding some family members and it took me back to last year, to the final days of my dad’s life and the almost unbearable amount of stress I somehow managed to endure. Funny how some things can trigger such a strong reaction. But not surprising I guess.
I’m struggling with it all today. On my walk this morning, I reframed “Stop Making Sense” in the context of grief. That feeling, however brief, of connecting to something that is big and beautiful and joyful and weird and expressive is the other side of loss and fear and mortality.
Anyway, I’m really glad I saw that film twice. It will stay with me, as will the grief.
Funny how it all balances out.
wow this is great and i need to see that movie now i remember doin some kinda construction job in a Vermont industrial park in mid 80's when "Psycho Killer" first caught my ear off radio and over years i held them at bay like strange insects which fascinate until they just took over a certain part of brain and you channel that so well here with this piece honest ie "you may find yourself..." in a home or place you might trade off but its the spiritual that makes it real of value
hell ilve in florida panhandle 5 months a year and its as foreign sometimes after 20 years to me as Ok. might be but always delivers new gifts demands another perspective
She loves to Zumba!!!