Thursday, September 30, 2004

What's good about the South?

Blog #4

Sometimes secession seems like a good option. Don’t get me wrong: I’m glad the North won the Civil War. I’m glad we no longer have the scourge of slavery, and that the Union held and all that. But just think: if the South had succeeded in seceding, John Kerry would surely be a shoe-in today. Of course, if the South had seceded, George W. Bush would be Czar of Texas instead of our president. (If just Texas had seceded, or Florida, or Tennessee, for that matter, but that’s four year’s ago’s story.)

Other compelling reasons to secede: if New England were its own country, we could be on a different time zone and have Daylight Savings all year long. Here’s why: we all (up here in the Northeast) complain that just when we need that extra sweet hour of sunlight the most, in dour November, the government takes it away from us, as if it were tax dollars or school music programs. Their argument? “Little Georgian school children would have to wait for the school bus in the dark otherwise,” they say. If you examine a map of the US, you will indeed see that Georgia is quite a bit west of New England, indeed neighboring Alabama is in Central time. But if New England were its own country, all we’d have to fight with (we meaning me, here in Western Mass) would be those cranky down Easters in Bar Harbor. They’d probably want TWO extra hours of daylight savings time. And then the sun wouldn’t come up here until 9 am!

We rehearsed as a full band last night over at Katryna and Dave’s house/studio, the great and mighty Sackamusic. Dave had reorganized the furniture, by which I really mean electric music making machinery, amps and the like. I got to Sackamusic first. Amelia said, “Come sit down to dinner, Nerissa. Sit here, next to me,” and she pointed to a tiny plastic purple chair at her play table. I obliged. She was wearing maroon pants with yellow numbers all over them and little braids in her hair.

“Oh, Amelia,” I said. “I love you so much it hurts.”
“Why does it hurt?” she said, cocking her braided head.
“Because,” I explained. “The place in your body where you love is here,” and I pointed at my heart. “It’s called your heart and it’s a muscle. And when it really really loves someone—which is its job, you know—it has to work hard, so hard it hurts a little. But in a good way.”
“In a good way,” Amelia nodded vigorously. “Nerissa, I love you.”
“Thank you Amelia!”
“You know how I know? Because my stomach hurts. Just a little. In a good way.”

Dave Hower got there at 6, followed immediately by Paul Kochanski and we plunged right in, playing straight through the two full length sets we’re doing at the Iron Horse this Saturday—not repeating a single song. We practiced for four hours straight without a break. Although by the end my voice was tired and so was my right shoulder, it was the most fun I’ve had in months. Sitting in that room, bathed in the sounds of those fine musicians, I felt invigorated, suspended.

Maybe we could have a weekly—or even monthly—local gig. I need to play with these people more often.

Maybe just Texas could secede. I’d miss my friends in Austin, though. And I’d need a passport to get there.

I just went through files and files of old Nields memorabilia in the hopes of finding something to inspire a chapter for The Big Idea, my novel about a family from Jintucket, Massachusetts who is also 3/4ths of a rock band. Came across most, if not all our old newsletters. As I was reading through them and chuckling to myself, Patty called on her way down to Mohegan Sun to watch the WNBA.

“Listen to this,” I said.
“Wait!” she shouted. People on cell phones are always shouting. “I called you for a reason! Is the moon full tonight?”
I pulled out my handy ephemeris, for I am an astrology guru-to-be.
“Yesterday,” I said. “Why?”
“Because everyone’s driving like maniacs! “ Patty wailed.
“Lunatics,” I corrected her. “Now listen to this.”



(from the Nields Newsletter #19, winter 1997)

We write this from the Beautiful South! Namely the dressing room of Carrboro, NC’s finest club, Cat’s Cradle. We love this club, and we haven’t even sound checked yet. They gave us jellybeans and popcorn cakes. ‘Nuff said.

We love the south. It’s warmer plus they have Waffle House.

So in case you didn’t hear, I broke my foot. I was stage diving at the Music Farm in Charleston, SC and forgot that you need to have people there to catch you in order to execute the move with optimum grace. Then, three days later (having temporarily established myself as a “stool” performer, something I’ve feared and loathed since the late 70’s during my brief Donny & Marie observing phase) in Birmingham Alabama I fell OFF my stool in the middle of “Alfred Hitchcock” (what can I say? That Les Paul is heavy!) and tumbled forward, making contact with first the mic stand, then a cup of hot tea and ultimately the floor. The combination of the sound of the Les Paul hitting the monitor at full volume and the hot tea falling into my ear led me to the conclusion that I had become deaf. I was very sad. Then I noticed a fan was video taping the entire event. That made me sadder. Then the water fell out of my ear and lo! I could hear again!

I must say, there is something empowering about having your absolute worst performance nightmare (i.e. falling on your face) actually occur and living through it. I want to thank those hundreds of fans in Birmingham who gave me the courage and support to finish that show. Okay, I lied there were only 37 fans there, but still.

END FLASHBACK TO NEWSLETTER; RESUME BLOG IN 2004...

Patty was laughing so hard she had to stop the car by the side of the road, but not so hard that her capitalist brain wasn’t whirring.

“Leave all those newsletters on your porch tomorrow,” she said. “And I’ll take them to Paradise Copies and make them into books and we’ll sell them at your Iron Horse show on Saturday.”

I do love the South. Reading the newsletter reminded me of this. I love the South the way I love certain parts of my own personality. Not necessarily the co-operative parts but absolutely crucial parts nonetheless. Like the part of me that likes pink frilly things. And astrology.

My friend A. from Uruguay says, "From a foreign perspective, especially a Latin American one, there's really no difference between Democrats and Republicans. Kennedy was just as brutal to us as Reagan." I'm trying to hold on to this as some sort of consolation just in case I have to mourn in November. There is a south beyond the south.

I even love George W. Bush. I do. I don't want him to be president, but I have grown to love him, yea these past four years. I cannot tell a lie. There is something endearing about his bemusement. There is something sweet about his visage. He doesn't make my heart hurt the way Amelia does--though he does make my stomach hurt sometimes. Who's to say that's not love? The "worst" happened in 1997-I fell on my face at a gig-and I survived. Much worse things actually happened after that, to me, to the USA, to the world. In the face all this, the pain of this beautiful planet and her lovable craven misguided well-meaning greedy humans, what can we do other than exercise our little heart muscles to the point of near exhaustion? And play on.

12 comments:

Anonymous said...

Nerissa,
Were Amelia's pigtails both on the sides of her head, or was one in the back? :)

Ahhh...to let GWB be Czar of Texas...I'm joining your prayer bandwagon...Dear God, please help John Kerry to be assertive and forceful tonight. Please help him to talk about Iraq, and not Vietnam (bravo for going to war, but let's focus on today's issues).

Enjoy the IronHorse shows!
~Kris (who still has What Would You Do with a Drunken Sailor like a broken record in her head!)

Anonymous said...

Please, Nerissa, be kind to dour November. Some of us were born in that month. To us (we use the royal plural, you see) November is the last gasp of Autumn beauty before Winter closes in. Winter has its own beauty, but Winter is hardy and stands on two feet; Autumn is fragile and needs our embrace.
Peace,
:-) Stephen
P.S. How do you pronounce dour - dow-er or doo-er?

Anonymous said...

Nerissa,

Thanks for the lovely thoughts expressed in your post. My fiance, James, and I are looking forward to hearing you and your wonderful band Saturday night at the Iron Horse. If I can make a request on-blog, could you please play a song for him at the early show? You know, the one that repeats his first name several times (James, James, James....) And could you also say "This is for Jim & Becky." Thanks so much! You ROCK! (Or should I say, you FOLK!)
May John Kerry be victorious!

Peace and Love,
Becky (and Jim)

Anonymous said...

Nerissa,

Thanks for the props about my dear hometown, Austin. It would be sad to need a passport to get there, but even this eighth-generation Texan understands that Austin is really the only part worth shootin'. Congrats on the blog, I see you got it syndicated so I won't try to figure out how to do that seeing as I don't know how either. I can't wait for the next writing group, and I know you're just dying for the link to my blog which is not quite as funny as yours: http://www.livejournal.com/users/crowgoddess

-Meredith of the swiping-your-cookies-and-accidentally-writing-poetry Merediths, not the web-person Merediths

p.s. Hi Tom!

Anonymous said...

For Amelia, you should learn the Patsy Cline song, "I Love You So Much It Hurts Me." Oh. Google tells me that Ray Charles sang it as well. See? It's a good song.

Weekly gig: Yes please! Where do I buy my season ticket? I'll pay cash!

Good catch on the lunatic-versus-maniac.

--Adam, looking forward to the IH shows

Anonymous said...

The South loves the Nields. Well, this girl (er, woman), who happens to be from the South and who has lived here her whole darn life loves the Nields.

All of my Nields concert experiences have been amazing, and I'm so, so glad that I got that one chance to see you guys at the Iron Horse. I think I am still paying on that credit card I used to take the trip, but it was totally worth it. It was also a kind of last-hurrah trip with a person who was a close friend at the time and graciously humored my obsession.

I really loved seeing you in Atlanta, though, and Birmingham, and in my hometown of Pensacola, Florida. I saw you at The Point in Atlanta in 1997, and by the time I moved to Atlanta in 2003, there was nary a trace left of The Point on that corner. I now live about half a mile away from that spot, and we actually picked this neighborhood because it had such great vibes from my concert-going experiences. It was a great choice, too. I wouldn't live anywhere else in Atlanta -- well, I won't until we're ready to buy a house, and then we won't be able to afford this neighborhood.

It's also really special to me that I saw the Nields for the first time in my hometown of Pensacola, Florida. I was 18 and had seen much less of the world then than I have now, comparatively. I spent a week hunting down the newly released Guardian version of GOGOG (my first Nields CD), was entranced on my first listen, and quite starry-eyed, I'm sure, as I did my dorky little dance while watching the Nields perform at Pensacola's Spring Fest. It still kind of blows my mind that such a cool band -- my favorite band, ever! -- visited Pensacola, because at the time it seemed like no one visited Pensacola, ever.

Just a little walk down memory lane for me. Carry on...

And come back to Atlanta any old time! I can't wait for that day.

Blair

Nerissa Nields said...

Hey Blair! I remember you! Wow. I would love to come back to Atlanta. Maybe in the spring. Thanks for the memories!

Love, an adrenalized-from-watching-the-debates Nerissa

Anonymous said...

Hey, Nerissa, I just discovered your blog within the last week, and I'm hooked! I find myself clicking on it several times a day to see if there's anything new. Your prose is a bright and alive as your song lyrics! Can't wait for "Plastic Angel" and "The Big Idea." I loved the New Haven Advocate piece too.

Patty's idea on the old newsletters sounds great. If we make it to the Iron Horse on Saturday (my wife has a cold), Patty's sure to sell a batch to me.

Regular full-band shows in Northampton would be a treat for those of us in driving distance. I know your set list for Saturday is set at this point, but I'd love to hear you do "New State of Grace" with the band sometime.

Alex

Anonymous said...

LOL! Did you sleep a little better after the debate last night, Nerissa? It was a pretty good night for our boy, Kerry. Fingers are crossed that people were listening!

~Kris

Nichole said...

I recently had the incredible opportunity of meeting and talking with Raymond Federman, who I am now a HUGE fan of, and your blog reminds me of something he said. He wrote a book called Loose Shoes (which they won't publish in America) and wrote a small piece every day. He said many times he turned his emails to friends into stories. This is how I see your blog. I love reading it because it's so lyrical, and I feel like you've turned it into your own little piece of fiction. (being an english major is taking over my life. I must analyze everything.)

nichole, from buffalo

Anonymous said...

I am surprised to hear this talk of practicality regarding weddings. (If practicality was the issue, the wedding industry would have to shut down!)

Weddings are celebrations, and we fans are an important part of Nerissa's life, so of course we should be there. Besides, I would bring a lovely present that would be worth more than the cost of inviting me.

Actually, I will send a present anyhow because I am so happy for my favorite female songwriter, even if I do live in the South.

Jeff from Charlotte

Anonymous said...

This has nothing to do with the South, or anything you said in this blog entry, but OMG the Iron Horse shows rocked. Rocked! Everyone on stage shone. Thank you, all. I can't even pick out a highlight, it was all that good.

Sadly, the few pictures I took (after getting Patty's OK) suffered from lack of flash. C'est la vie.

--Adam