Blame It All on Garth

“Ain’t it funny how a melody/can bring back a memory/take ya to another place and time/completely change your state of mind.”

            “State of Mind”- Clint Black

Coming from me, it may sound odd that my favorite Christmas gift was a Garth Brooks box set. I’m the guy who repeatedly listens to Fiona Apple and drove 10 hours to New York to see Bjork. I think I even surprised a few people when I mentioned the box set was on my Christmas list (thanks Sis!). But, as the name of the set suggests, blame it all on my roots.

I grew up in Eastern Kentucky where the prevailing music was either hymns in church or country music on the radio. My earliest memories are of me surrounded by music. In retrospect, what’s surprising is that while my parents certainly influenced what music I was exposed to, the music I listened to was my music. Mine. I owned it. 

For every birthday, I got records. When my grandparents would give me a dollar, I couldn’t wait to get to Mack’s or the TG&Y to buy a 45. 45s could usually be had for a dollar and would give me a chance to get a taste of a little bit of everything. I kept them in what had been a gallon Neapolitan ice cream bucket. This let me carry them and my portable record player with me everywhere I went.

For clarification, I’m not talking me as a teenager or even a tween. This is me at 6 years old, with my Randy Travis, Reba, Judds, Don Williams, Ricky Skaggs, Gene Watson, Barbara Mandrell and the records of countless others literally dragging behind me throughout the house. I sang along. I learned every word, even when I had no idea what most of it meant. It became my escape.

It wasn’t until looking through the box set today that I realized it’s dedicated to Garth’s influences. His own music and the songs and artists that he says shaped his sound. Many of these were the records, then eventually tapes and CDs, that were my childhood. While reading song titles and artist’s names, I was taken right back to Harlan County. Some of them literally took my breath away.

Just the recollection of a few bars of “Don’t Close Your Eyes” had me back in the floor with my record player, watching the Epic Records logo spin and trying to drown out the sounds of fighting in the other room. “Digging Up Bones” had me driving to Martin’s Fork Lake and remembering the first time I heard Randy Travis. Garth’s version of “Shameless” reminded me of having bought the Billy Joel “Storm Front” tape at the flea market and surprising my mom when I already knew every word when Garth’s version came on WFSR. It went on to become her favorite Garth song.

So, I’m spending today thinking about Wynonna and Naomi, Tanya Tucker and Sawyer Brown, Charley Pride and maybe even George Jones. It’s bringing back a ton of really happy and occasionally painful memories, loads of which I’d completely forgotten. But, just a quick scroll through my memory bank of that ice cream bucket of 45s and as Trisha sang, “even if the whole world has forgotten, the song remembers when”.

In Defense of Fashion

You ever see something that gets under your skin for no reason?  Something that really has no relation or bearing to your actual life, something that just has nothing to do with anything you have any control over and really isn’t in the scope of your everyday life, but for some reason, this irritating thing causes you to have a little mental meltdown? Ever had that?

It probably happens to me with more regularity than it should. Last night, a friend posted a link to a Buzzfeed story that displayed photos from various shows from Men’s Fashion Week in Milan. The article boils down to a series of carefully curated photos with snarky commentary from what was certainly the most out of the ordinary looks sent down the runways. The general premise being, “aren’t these ridiculous??!!...What are these fashion people thinking??!! No one would ever wear this!! Does Donatella think the next “Big Thing” is going to be gladiator costumes??!!”

And this, this is what set me off. Yeah, I’m not in the fashion world. I don’t design. I only own a couple of pieces of true Designer clothes. But, the lack of understanding about what a fashion show is, what purpose it serves, and the disrespect and ignorance (usually followed by disdain) that people often give Fashion got/gets/will continue to annoy me.

I’ve spent more time than I should have in my life defending not only my love for fashion, but also why it isn’t something to be discounted. Let’s start with a few quick premises:

1)      Fashion is Art. And no, I’m not necessarily talking about what you’re going to find at H&M, J. Crew or even the mass produced Calvin Klein you find in Macy’s in the mall. I’m talking from real design houses that actually spend time completing an honest to Gaga collection. Those collections have themes, intents, and actually work to say something that the specific designer wants to say. Sometimes it’s social commentary, sometimes it’s challenging the idea of masculinity and femininity, and sometimes it’s even commenting on Fashion itself. However, a true runway collection is no different than any other type of art exhibition. It’s an artist attempting to present an idea via the artistic medium he or she has chosen. Fashion just happens to be worn as opposed to an object d’art hanging on the wall or sitting in a gallery.

2)      Fashion shows are not for you. Or me. Or most of us really. They are either for the buyers at the major retailers who will pick what clothes will be sold in their stores, or for fashion magazine editors who will try to capture what the designer was saying and maybe comment on it in an editorial.

3)      That brings me to some of the looks that often make it onto things like the Buzzfeed article. Every season designers show pieces that are “weird” or “out there” or even “unwearable” in an everyday context. THESE ARE NOT INTENDED TO BE WORN WHILE YOU CLEAN THE HOUSE/GO TO WORK AT YOUR CUBICLE/OR EVEN OUT TO DINNER. These are often conceptual looks that fit into the collection by displaying a new technique or use the extreme to hammer home the larger message of the collection. Just because it goes down the runway on a model doesn’t at all mean the designer intended for that look to be worn by the masses as it was shown. If it shocked you, that was probably the designer’s intent.

4)      To that end, let’s talk about the exclusivity argument. Fashion is often seen as something for the pretentious elite, something that the shallow folks with gobs of money waste their trust funds on. And sure, most Fashion is above most of our budgets. Just as most of the art hanging in the Met or Guggenheim is out of our budgets. So, what’s the difference? Why is it ok for someone to spend thousands or even millions for a painting with precious little outrage, but it’s a crime for Prada to charge $5000 for a dress? Sure, you can buy a $100 suit at H&M. But, you also pay for what you get in terms of fabric quality, construction, attention to detail and the wages of those who made the garment. The garments may even appear similar. It’s sort of the same principle as buying the original Van Gogh or buying a print of it in the gift shop on your way out. Most of us don’t buy the original. Instead, we buy a mass produced, cheaply made version of it.

5)      While we’re on the topic of wages, take a moment to consider that awesome $5 t shirt you bought at a discount store. Sure, it was a great bargain for you, but at what cost on the back end? If you’re truly interested in the high cost of low priced, disposable clothes have a look and listen here and here. Maybe also watch an episode of Project Runway and see the art, talent and time it takes to construct one garment. Then, think about how it can be that anything sells for $5.

6)      And finally, let’s talk about the nature of what Fashion is for most of us. Even those who shun the world of Fashion have to engage it in some way to know what to rail against. And yes, just as it was succinctly described by Miranda Priestly in “The Devil Wears Prada”, what shows on the runways will eventually trickle down (with increasing speed due to that cheap manufacturing) to us masses. See all those printed shirts? They’ll likely show up in stores in toned down, more widely appealing patterns. See those color pairings and silhouettes? They might just show up too, in a way that hints back at the original’s general concept, but in a way that is relatable to most people.

And with all that being said, I’ll close with my final defense. Perhaps it’s the ultimate reason I’m bothering to post this. It’s the defense of myself. I’ve been accused of being shallow, pretentious, vain and any number of things due to my love of Fashion. It’s always been frustrating to attempt to explain why I don’t see Fashion as others seem ready to understand it. However, it is nothing more than an appreciation for what seems to me to be the art form we all most interact with, whether we like it or not.

Nope, I'm Not Going To Make A Reference To a David Bowie Song

So, hi there. Been awhile, hasn't it? 

My last post was over half a year ago. I'll stop myself from waxing too philosophic about getting older and time moving faster, but suffice it to say I'm shocked by that. This is actually something I really enjoy doing. So, I'm finally taking a moment to lay the devices and the day down and get to some explaining. 

I'm presently sitting in my hotel room in Cleveland, a place that I don't so much as unpack but move into. My stay is 19 nights. The Hilton points are glorious. 

The first change worth mentioning is that I'm writing my first post that's completely done on my iPad. Thank you Bluetooth technology. I really do require an actual keyboard. This leads to another change. My beloved (and I'm not really being facetious) BlackBerry has died. Thus, my devotion to the BlackBerry has died as well. I've kept my iDevices for lo these many years, but held on to my Tyrone (his name from Curve to Bold). We've taken walks on the beach, snuggled during sofa naps. He was always responsive and ready with his efficient and confident bounce/click on the keyboard (even after several of his letters had worn away). 

Yet, his successors forwent the keyboard, leaving me no choice but to complete the iFamily. I dare not speak its name in the same post. My fingertips will be forever longing for that reassuring click of a word/text/email/post without the intrusion of Siri, auto-correct or push alert. Adieu, Tyrone. 

But back to the reason I'm in Cleveland: the new job. I have taken a new job with the same company, but a bit of a different gig. The impetus for the change being the ever constant threat of layoffs and my desire to just get the hell out. So, I'm now no longer occasionally loaned to the Catastrophe Team; I'm part of it. This means that my new work schedule is 20 days "on" and 8 days "off". 

During the 20 days, I'll usually be in Cleveland, the site of our Response Center. While here, I'll do a little bit of everything. I'll organize people "on the ground" in various locations where Catastrophe has happened, and I'll work directly with folks who are presenting claims as a result of said catastrophes. I should also mention that "catastrophe" can include a large, populated area being hit by fairly innocuous hail to tornadoes tearing apart a town. A laugh about baseball sized hail pelting you as you try to cover the car in pillows and then tears with someone as they talk about losing everything can easily happen on any day. 

We work long hours. 7:45am to 7pm. Everyday. One day off over the 20. I come home spent and to people who love me and take care of me .I'm grateful and spoiled. 

I'm also a bit disconnected. I try not to be. The iDevices help. But, while here my mom has lost her job, and a few other actual tragedies have happened in the lives of people I love. I try not to let distance equate distance and send the love/hurt/empathy as much as the pixels let me. It always feels trite and not enough. I'm working on being sure I try anyway, because my initial reaction is to not do anything, because it doesn't feel as authentic as what I might do or say were I there in person. 

I'm midway though a rotation now and very much looking forward to the time I'm about to get home, complete with a mini-vacation to Atlanta where I'll get to boo the Braves in person and bask in the not quite full drag glow of the Beyonce. I also hope I'll get the chance to get and give the hugs and words that I need to. Until then, I'm pulling Carole King's "So Far Away" out of the cloud and placing it on repeat.