How Dare You, Barry Manilow!!
I just realized the song "Can't Smile Without You" which is tied to Manilow like a co-dependent to his/her enabler, is the National Anthem of the Co-Dependent/Enablers Union**, of which I am a card carrying member. Oh, you disagree? Take a gander:
"You know I can't smile without you,
Can't smile without you.
I can't laugh and I can't sing,
I'm finding it hard to do anything.
You see I feel sad when you're sad,
I feel glad when your glad,
If you only knew what I'm going through,
I just can't smile without you."
HUH? HUH? What about THOSE lyrics? Granted, Manilow didn't write the darn thing, but it's been one of his signature songs for a long time. He used to bring women up onto the stage to actually sing it with him (until one lady grabbed a hold of his ass and wouldn't let go, which he didn't think was particularly funny....). But what did he expect? She was CO-DEPENDENT for heaven's sakes. She was hearing her Fight Song! Her Anthem!! She got a hold of her Co-Dependee and wouldn't let go until security shot her up with fentenyl and versed and used the Jaws of Life to pry her clamped fingers off his rear end (just kidding--but as with all jokes, there's a grain of truth in them. It's up to you to find out what's true and what isn't. I'm just telling a story here and empowered with literary license).
Barry thinks "Can't Smile" is a chipper ol' song about undying love and pining away. Sure it is.....the enabler is just pining away to get her lover out of jail after his 6th DUI (golly, he only really drinks one or two on the weekends), or not questioning the strange massive withdrawals from your checking account after you gave your boyfriend of 2 months access to your account number. Why make him mad? He LOVES you. He'll pay you back. He's a great guy. Or calling the school over and over to say your teenager is sick while she is really just hung over after being up all night on the computer talking to Sid, whom you haven't determined is female or male or under 45.
Or how about just old fashioned anger? How about being that enabler who knows that any anger erupting within a 45 mile radius to due to something she had either DONE or FAILED to do and then must make everything better even if it means selling her own soul to the devil. An enabler would be HAPPY to sell her soul if it would assure that everyone is happy and not making her pay (cuz you know, 'someone HAS to pay') for every mistake that ever happened in the history of the planet. I know. I tried! You wouldn't believe how HARD it is to sell your soul. Really. Some souls Lucifer just ain't interested in -- imagine what THAT does to your confidence level.
Anyway, Barry, tell it like it is. "Can't Smile" is a sad, sad song about co-dependents unable to live their own life because they are too busy enabling someone else's life. They "can't smile" unless someone else is smiling. They feel sad if someone else is sad. They are "finding it hard to do anything". Barry -- that's Co-dependency, not a LOVE SONG!!
So I hope you will take this in the spirit it was written --- and for god's sake don't get angry or I'll never be happy until you're happy again.
(**for real help with co-dependency, read Melanie Beatty's "Co-dependent No More"**)
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Co-Dependent Fight Song
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Ultimate Manilow
Last Friday, I was lucky enough to meet someone I've admired for a long time -- Barry Manilow. He was gracious, warm, genuine. Just the way I thought he would be. It was a meet and greet before his Las Vegas show and and I was really a nervous wreck. But his staff was extremely patient and kind and the second I saw him smile and extend a handshake, I knew I wouldn't at least throw up on his shoes.
Afterwards, I sat in the front row of his new show and enjoyed it completely. I know there are people who go to his concerts and can tell you what he sang, how he sang it, what he wore and how he wore it, what he said and how he said it. Frankly, I have no clue....just like I have no clue what I said when I was standing in front of him. All I know is that I sang and cheered and stood and clapped and laughed. I came away happy. I came away happy after I shook his hand and I came away happy after his show.
And really.....what more could we possibly want from anyone??
Thanks again Barry......I know you've made so many people happy. With your time and your talent. It really is magic.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Hey, Barry Manilow Fans!!
And anyone else who likes to help those in real need (speaking of volunteering and charity)....
Go to www.manilowsmidnightdreams.com, (or connect through their link on my sidebar) click on the Raffle icon and help someone who was part of Barry's early career and now is having a very difficult time.
There is a terrific raffle set up by the directors and staff of Manilow's Midnight Dreams (Viv, Beth, DD, Cindi and Crystal) with lots of great prizes...and all of the proceeds going to help someone who truly needs it.
All the people involved with Manilow's Midnight Dreams are trustworthy, honest people. I guarantee you that if you donate, the money will be going to help Jeanne Lucas and no one else.
I know as a Manilow fan myself, there is no group of people who will come quicker to your aid or send a comforting note sooner than they. It makes me proud to be among them...and has always made me proud of Barry himself to nurture that sense of charity among his fans and fan clubs.
So take a minute, go to the site and click to help.
Thanks!
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Thursday Thirteen #19!
Because of the holidays and precious little time to devote to higher pursuits, I give you a simple, honest Thursday Thirteen. So run away if you must, but here, for the first time written down for all to view, are my favorite Barry Manilow songs, not in any particular order:
1. Mandy. He didn't write it, but he rearranged it from a rock song titled "Brandy" and sings it beautifully. Still a fave that has held up very well over the last 30+ years.
2. Could It Be Magic. Could it be that I love this song because it is based on a Chopin prelude? Or could it be because my mother discovered this song for that very reason and was one of her favorites? I don't know. I still love it though.
3. Do You Know Who's Livin' Next Door. Done about 2001, it was on "Here at the Mayflower", the first album Manilow created totally on his own. All his compositions, all his arrangements, all his production, all his voice, and he played every instrument (except for Dave Koz on sax) or created it on a computer. He had to jump ship from Arista to RCA to record it because it wasn't considered a profitable undertaking, but the whole of "Mayflower" is one of his very finest.
4. I'm Coming Back. On the Mayflower album. This song is the one I used to sing to myself during a panic attack to get my brain out of panic mode. The melody is easy, the beat consistent and the words are sweet and able to get your mind off the fact that you may have to call 911.
5. Leavin' in the Morning. Fairly autobiographical (IMO, of course) about his decision to leave his wife and start his musical career. Very sad and very telling, but once again, a strong lyric and wonderful arranging.
6. One Voice. A beautiful song, whether he sings it with musical accompaniment or a cappella -- about his belief in the power we have to join together to help one another.
7. Nice Boy Like Me. What a fave -- has been for years! About a "nice" boy like Barry cruisin' chicks in a "place that never closes" -- and "lookin' so sad" cuz he just can't get any (yes, I know -- NOT biographical...well, at least not since 1975). Funny, upbeat, with his usual self-depreciating lyrical style.
8. Sweetwater Jones. On his first album and while his voice is a bit NY twangy and unpolished, the melody is catchy and the lyrics tell a good story. I also feel that way down deep, this one is fairly autobiographical too.
9. It's a Miracle. Just a "true blue spectacle" of a song. And really, even if you don't like Manilow, I bet you know all the lyrics to this song!
10. Who's Been Sleepin' in My Bed. "Gettin' what I get, when I don't get it..." A strong song, great melody, painful lyrics, with a story behind it (reportedly about his breakup with a longtime girlfriend). And you can even dance to it.
11. Baby, It's Cold Outside. With K.T. Oslin. Barry seducing K.T. with drink and god knows what else as the snow piles up outside. She fell for it---and so would alot of women I know! Was originally a song from the 40's sung by Ricardo Montelban and Esther Williams. Really.
12. When October Goes. Johnny Mercer's widow gave Manilow these lyrics after Mercer's death and asked Barry to put it to music. The result is a powerful, yet beautiful and delicate song -- and one that Mercer would be very proud of. It literally can bring you to tears.
13. You Could Show Me. A very short, sweet, simple song on the One Voice album and a demonstration of one of the secrets to Manilow's success -- telling the story of the lost, the lonely and the hopeful...a recurring theme in Manilow-land.
And because I simply couldn't leave it out:
14. Who Needs to Dream? ... "when there is you?" Probably one of the best love songs ever written and so very underappreciated. It's such a great love song that it practically yanks the tears out of your eyes. Story is that he wrote this for the tv movie "Copacabana" and when co-star Annette O'Toole heard it for the first time, she actually did cry.
So while I encourage you to pick up those cover albums (ah hem), Manilow's earlier stuff along with "Swing Street", "2AM Paradise Cafe" and "Here at the Mayflower" make up a pretty impressive body of work. Sure, he's the butt of alot of jokes, many of his own creation, but anyone who sells over 75,000,000 albums and is still around after 30 years has to have something going for him!
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Music and Passion
I'm warning you ahead of time that we are marching into Manilow country, but stick with me here for a minute. You must be fairly well aware that along with Abe Lincoln, I am a Barry Man-i-low-o-phile (trying saying that fast a couple times...spelling it is worse) but as I sit here in Sandusky, Ohio, about a 6 hour Amtrak train ride from my home in Chicago, I find I must write about the weekend I had.
My friend Colleen and I planned a trip to Cleveland Ohio to attend a Barry Manilow concert on December 14th. She has family here in Sandusky, and we ingratiated ourselves into their lives for a couple of days. As we were traveling around Colleen's old country stomping grounds, we looked up in the air to see this "thing" flying around. We looked again and again. We stared some more. We wiped our eyes, thinking we were having the same hallucination. But there he was. Beautiful. Amazing. A magnificent sight I will never forget in my entire life. Colleen threw her camera at me and I took this picture out of the car window: 
I swear it was some kind of preview of the wonderful weekend I was going to have. There were laughs and Colleen's wonderfully warm family....and music and food and even a couple of happy tears. There was sleeping in and being lazy and meeting the new puppy, who dragged Colleen's socks all over the house and chewed up the little wrapper I had for the computer screen. Then of course, there was this:
Me, Colleen and 15,000 of our closest friends piled into the Quicken Arena to see Barry in concert. And we all had a blast. Even with a venue that size, Barry managed to keep it intimate and personal. I even think it was better than his Vegas show. It was simpler and toned down -- he knew he was playing for his fans and not for the Electricians Union Annual Vegas Convention. Barry does not need a multi media laser show for the majority of his long time fan base. We'd be happy with him, a piano, and a spotlight for 90 minutes.
So it was a miraculous weekend from all perspectives. The healing power of friendship, laughter and music is truly amazing. The only problem? In my excited and distracted state post concert, I left my cell phone, program, and only set of matching gloves in Colleen's car --- which is headed back to her home in Cincinnati as I head for Chicago. I only hope they have a safe trip.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
What Have I Done -- Parts 1 and 2
Is it hormones? Is it menopause? Is it the looming specter of empty nest syndrome? Or is it a woman who, after surviving an abusive marriage with the help of dear friends and 6 years of psychotherapy, has finally starting rediscovering who she is and what she wants to do?
I don't know. The flip side shouts that perhaps the meds aren't working as they should.
But over the last week, I've done some fairly uncharacteristic things. And I have more in the works. I'm relatively free of my ex, although those emails still keep coming in, which I will share with you again soon, I have a good job that I like, I have dear, true friends, my kids are growing into healthy adults. Sure the shit hits the fan and I take a nose dive, but I'm starting to do things just for me. I do have leftover Ex baggage which manifests itself in my little voice telling me I can't, I shouldn't, I'm not smart enough, I'm not organized enough, I don't have the time, the stress will make me eat more, eating more will make me fat-ter....etc. You get the point.
But I've stopped listening -- most of the time.
I didn't listen when I signed up to participate in NaNoWriMo (www.nanowrimo.org) which is National Novel Writing Month. 50,000 words in 30 days. I've done 1324 words as of today and have no idea what else I am going to type! I'm looking forward to the challenge and just hoping I can make it to 30,000 words. I'd be happy with that! There's always next year!
Then, I signed up through the Manilow Fund for Health and Hope (www.manilowfund.org) to attend a charity event next year which includes a "how do you do" with Mr. Manilow himself. I saw the ticket on line, I waited 48 hours, a ticket was still available and I took it. I can't believe I did it. It so isn't "me".
But I've decided these things -- NaNo and Manilow -- are good things. I'm breaking free of the victim I was and seeing things through totally different eyes. Don't get me wrong -- it's taken a long time to get here. A Long Time. But it is so worth it.
For any of you healing from abusive relationships, get therapy. Talk to your friends. Don't isolate yourself. Try new things. Realize you are going to backpeddle sometimes, but that's ok. Progress will be made.
You are worth every single thing you do for yourself -- silly or not!
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Always in Fashion
Music and Passion ---
At the Copa AND at the Las Vegas Hilton! Can you believe I took this picture? No. I can't either. I'm surprised all my pictures weren't more blurry -- Manilow keeps moving so much, it was hard to take a shot!
My trip to Vegas, where I met my friend Colleen and several Manilow fans that I had only met on-line, was an absolute blast. So much happened, we did so many things I don't know where to start. I figure I will dash off two highlights: 1. Manilow at the Hilton and 2. Toby Keith's I Love This Bar and Grill at Harrah's.
Don't ask me why, but I love both these men. Is this not a testimony to my varied and unique tastes? New York mets Texas. Bagels and BBQ. Armani and Levi Strauss. Jo Malone and Stetson. And damn fine music. What more could a woman want?
Anyway, for my money, Toby Keith's I Love This Bar and Grill will be a mainstay of all future visits to Vegas. Good food, margaritas served in mason jars, bartenders who give out free shots (as long as they can stand on the bar and pour it into your mouth). Waitresses are friendly, good service, lots of Toby stuff on the walls. We had an exceptional time. Thanks, Toby.
Manilow at the Hilton. Say what you want, but the man knows how to put on a fun, great, classy show. Although he joked about "Menopause, The Musical" playing down the street as well as in his audience, there were a surprising number of men. Granted, their wives/girlfriends might have hauled their asses in there, but I didn't see anyone asleep.
I know he's been described as "schmaltzy" and there were maybe a few times in my Manilow history when I sort of, kind of agreed, but there was none of that here. The musical arrangements were exactly on target, it appeared everyone including Barry himself was having fun and a good time was had by all. He saluted the 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's and the William Tell Overture. I believe he covered all the necessary musical bases in the time allotted, which was way too short. Ninety minutes absolutely few by.
Manilow's great talent, besides music, is his ability to connect with people, connect with his audience. He did that magnificently and received probably 6 or 7 standing ovations.
So thanks, Mr. M for a great show, and oh, I was the one standing in the 3rd row.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Off To See The Manilow
The wonderful Barry of Vegas.
I shall be off until my return from Benjamin (Don't Ever Call Me Bugsy) Siegel's mafia bank-rolled vision in the desert.
Yes, I found an outfit that is classy and comfy. Yes, I will take pictures and post them. Yes, I am really looking forward to this.
And I know what you are thinking: Don't Ever Call It Beatle Fest Again and Manilow back to back weekends. Put that woman in a psych ward. But remember this -- at least I am not posting about about PMS, Puberty, Menopause, my brains spilling out or anxiety induced panic attacks. That's one good thing, No?
Besides, how can you NOT like a guy who loves his animals this much?
(Thanks, www.manilow.com for the photos! And you can peruse The Manilow Fund for Health and Hope (in my links section) which supports many charities including animal rescue and shelters.)
Thursday, July 12, 2007
I'm So Screwed
See this dress? Pretty isn't it? I want to get my pear shaped body into that Cindy Crawford shaped dress by 8/11/2007. Less than one month away.
I have several problems.
#1 -- I don't like exercise.
#2 -- I enjoy eating.
#3 -- I have no willpower.
#4 -- I always have more than 3 problems happening at the same time, so just figure I've got at least a couple more that I won't bother you with.
August 11, 2007 I will be in Vegas, seeing the Man, The Showman of Our Generation, Ladies and Gentlemen: 
(thank you www.manilow.com for that picture).
I've been a Mr. Could-It-Be-Magic fan since I was in high school...which is a number of years ago. My love-struck skinnier ass was at Ravinia in Highland Park, Illinois in August, 1976 to see Mr. M for the first time. He filmed his first Emmy-winning special there and then on a, to borrow a phrase, Hot (and humid) August Night. I had a great time. Like him or not, he'll give you your money's worth when it comes to a show.
I saw him again in 1979 and was going to see him last year until the show Anne and I were going to was cancelled. There was some speculation that Barry realized I was going be in Vegas and consequently left the entire state of Nevada -- only to appear in Rosemont, Illinois, a stone's throw from my own backyard. In other words, I was in his backyard, and he was in mine. But nevermind. Being my oldest friend, Anne was pissed off on my behalf, so Barry and I could maintain the warm and loving relationship he knows nothing about. Of course Anne and I had a great time in Vegas sans Mr. M -- how can you not? -- and the highlight was visiting the M Store at the Hilton.
The saleswomen were delightful. Ready to give you a Barry story or sighting on the spot. They were friendly and chatty and very helpful. They asked me about my Barry history. Then they turned to Anne, who was buying Manilow truffles only because the package said "Watch out! They squirt!"
"Do you like Barry?" they chirp.
"No," replies Anne, pointing an index finger at me. "I'm only here because of HER."
The looks on their faces assured me that Anne had delivered an answer they never heard before.
Now while Anne, out of friendship, would surely have accompanied me to Vegas this year, I've decided to spare her. This time around, I am going with my friend Colleen (whom I've met on-line) and meeting several other Manilow fans. Saturday night, 8/11, we will be at the show en masse. Third row center.
Poor guy. 30+ years in the frickin' business and he's soooo not prepared for us. Trust me. I'm on a pretty impressive regressive swing thanks to bio-identical estrogen.
In the meantime, what am I going to do about my pear?
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
The Dangers of the Internet
We've heard all about them. Predators. Abusers. Lurkers. Schizophrenic sociopaths.
However, ponder for a moment that neither Ted Bundy nor Jeffrey Dahmer nor Richard Speck had the internet. Nor did the Hillside Stranglers nor the Boston Strangler. They just lurked right out in the open, so to speak.
This weekend, say some, I took my life and the lives of my children and put them in potential harm's way. I invited a female friend and her daughter to my home for the weekend -- a friend I met over the internet.
We bonded over Barry Manilow via blog (i.e. LIKE THIS ONE) and an on-line fan club (www.manilowsmidnightdreams.com). Now I'm sure Mr. Manilow has his share of lurkers, but I'm still here. And I know my kids are still alive because there's no food in the house.
Oh, I know what you are thinking. Yeah, first Barry Manilow. I like Mr. M and we've gotten past that already, haven't we? Now, on-line interaction.
I'm not suggesting that you "converse" with a blogger and invite them for dinner. And none of this applies to anyone under 21 years of age. But I am saying that probably the percentage of bad outcomes is the same for internet interaction as it is for the population as a whole. In other words, there are nuts everywhere. Every day you walk out of your house is a crapshoot. You meet nice people and you meet raging lunatics. Think of your work environment. It's probably safer to invite an internet Manilow fan over than it is to work at the post office ("nothing against the USPS," she said with all love and affection).
It is necessary to use a little brain power, instinct and caution. And while we originally bonded over Manilow, we got to be good friends by sharing stories about our fears and our hopes and our lives. Yes, I could have been a good liar. So could she. But after about a year of "type talking" and a couple conversations on the phone, well, it was apparent that we had many of the same likes besides Manilow singing "Here at the Mayflower": (a good laugh, writing, reading, taste testing tequila, and maintaining our Mother of the Year status) and dislikes (liars, bullies, bigots and my ex-husband). We also share that most beautiful title of all: smart-ass.
Bottom line? We had a wonderful time. The internet brought 2 friends together that never would have met. I'm very grateful for this little cable that connected the 400 miles between us....and of course, Mr. M.
So to my new dear friend and her sweet little angel daughter -- This One's For You.
Monday, June 18, 2007
A New Point Of View Is Beginning...
I feel compelled and must, MUST continue to tell you the story of my book writing odyssey. Only unlike Hubbell from "The Way We Were", who was beautiful beyond beautiful, smart beyond smart and talented beyond talented, my journey was born out of depression and a need to focus on anything besides my horrid marriage, even more horrid divorce and the looming title of “Single Full-Time Working Mom”. Besides, I promised “redcat” I’d finish the story. And really, wouldn’t Barry Manilow like to know?
No. I didn’t think so either. And actually, right or wrong, poor Mr. Manilow had nothing to do with any of this, other than having the tenacity and talent to hang around from 1974 through to the new millennium.
So to summarize, we left Lara post Manilow google, doing some serious contemplating and welcoming in of January, 2006.
The remaining notes I took during my journey were in diary form.
January, 2006
Knowing I’m going to hit 50 this year, I’ve decided I’m going to take a trip to Vegas, perhaps by myself and see Barry. I haven’t seen him since 1979 – in the old Chicago Stadium. I found the program from that concert the other day and really cracked up. Lots of jumpsuits and rhinestones! I also found my calendar from 1976 when I saw Barry for the first time in concert – Ravinia in Highland Park. I suspect his Vegas show is nothing like Ravinia, which featured 3 backup singers, a small band, him and his piano. Oh and the palm tree. Loved the palm tree and his frenetic pace back and forth on the stage.
When I told Anne of my plans, she heard the words “Vegas” and “birthday” and said, “I’m so there.” Manilow is merely a side attraction. She is checking on hotels and flights. I’m in charge of Barry tickets.
We have hotel, flight and tickets for October, 2006. I have put my confirmation up on my bulletin board at work. My co-workers, while admiring by Beatles calendar and Captain James T. Kirk action figure (along with pictures of my kids – I’m not that crazy) are puzzled by this Manilow addition.
I realize I am awash in a sea of….Manilow-who-cares? You know, they wondered if he was even still alive. I march boldly on, used to the chuckles and snickers. As Barry said years ago, “You take a lot of shit for being a Manilow fan.” Fine.
There is some recognition that he is indeed still alive as his 50’s CD debuts at Number 1 on the charts. Sorry, Barry, but I just can’t make the purchase. That picture on the cover frightens me. A part of me realized you just might need me to set you straight on what is “cover-worthy”.
February, 2006
I decide that I need to touch base with other Manilow fans, as I realize there are none within a 200 mile radius of where I live.
I’ve hit paydirt. On-line fan clubs! Now this is what the internet was designed for! The BMIFC/Barrynet thing is fine, but I’m beginning to realize that his fans are like the population in general. You’ve got Right Wingers, Middle of the Roaders and Left Wingers. The extremists scare me, but I’m a big girl and have been taught not to give out my home address and social security number, even if they ask.
I have written a reminder on my computer at home limiting myself to 45 minutes of Barry Manilow a day. Any more than that, and I may have to check myself into rehab.
Anne, Vegas companion and friend since kindergarten, tells me that my Manilow fixation comes out of left field to her. She hasn’t remembered the name Barry coming up in any of our conversations since Barry Newman. Or Barry VanDyke. I tell her it’s hormones and to just play along. I know all her secrets.
March, 2006
Not only are there on-line fan clubs (Barry’s Retro Fans Unlimited, Manilow’s Midnight Dreams, Manimodems, Barry Manilow, All4Barry Manilow, Melting for Manilow to name only a very few) but there are bloggers. Lots and lots of bloggers. Anne tells me to check out one she found on line. I do so and start corresponding to one in particular, using an alias of course. See? I know how to feed my fixation and remain anonymous.
I painfully realize that while I am well versed in Manilow trivia from 1974-1990, I am sorely ignorant of his tours, travels, loves and fax paus from 1991-2001. Oh, I have all the mainstream albums and CD’s, but have not ventured into the purchasing of CD’s that have all the songs from say, Barry Manilow II, along with a bonus track, necessitating the need to dish out $11.99 for one song. I remind Anne that I have scoured racks of CD’s during our 25 year annual pilgrimage to the Fest for Beatles’ Fans looking for a particular McCartney compilage, which has everything from “Ram” on it, except in a different order. She accepts my Manilow fascination as a fact of life.
I yank out my old VHS copy of “Copacabana” taped off the television in 1987 and notice it’s disintegrating before my eyes, plus irritating me with commercial interruption. How can I get a new one? Oh, look here. Barry Manilow merchandise on-line! Imagine that! Starz.bz. Perhaps along with replacing my worn copy of “Copacabana”, I can get a tee-shirt that actually fits. I could finally put that medium sized “I Love Beagles” shirt to rest, where it really has been since I was last able to wear it in 1980.
April, 2006
It’s spring and I’m busy. I do keep up with the on-line fan clubs and notice there is lots and lots of information out there on poor Barry Manilow. Part of me starts to feel sorry for him. Thirty years of having the press up your ass at every turn must be very wearing, especially when they usually rip you a new one every time. There’s lots of press because of the 50’s CD and his Music and Passion show.
I realize, via Barry, that he likes his fans and could give a good shit about what the press and reviewers have to say about him. He laughs his ass off all the way to the bank. I finally get a good night’s sleep. I hear that he’s planning a 60’s CD as a follow up to the 50’s CD and I wonder if I can get a note to him quickly enough, offering my suggestions for the cover. I lose sleep once again.
I have been getting to know one of the Barry bloggers fairly well. Her blogs are a riot...she comes up with very humorous stuff. We “converse” via blog, which is an interesting way to talk to anyone. You are having a conversation with someone solely via the written word. It’s like the 1800’s again, only you can’t give out your real names or where you really live.
I’m still contemplating how I can meld my future writing career and Barry.
I get my answer at 2am during a very impressive panic attack. The fans. The fans share stories, their pictures. There’s the Manilow Fund for Health and Hope. Why not create a book of fan stories/pics and donate the proceeds to his charity?
I decide to think about that some more.
To be continued...
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Come Monday....
my life starts again.
I've thought about that since I've reached a certain age --- you know, if I'd want to go back and be a kid again. I see what my children (a teenage boy and pre-teen girl) go through and I most emphatically say "NO!" It's not only that, but I'd have to go through all the things I've prayed to God to just get through the first time. Highschool, parents dying, abusive 15 year marriage, divorce, entering the dating world again with offspring for chaparones. Dear Holy Lord. No thank you.
The only advantage would be watching all the body parts that have started a downward descent begin to head north, the fading of wrinkles, the ability to sneeze without worrying if you are wearing a pantyliner and, once again, to jump out of bed on a dime without worrying about throwing your back out. This is just the tip of the iceberg -- and I'm not THAT old. Let's just say I watched the Beatles on Ed Sullivan and fell in love with George Harrison on the spot. (There has been some discussion between myself and my friend Anne that I fell in love with George because she had immediate dibs on Paul, but we can discuss that later.)
For now, let's discuss blogging. I've heard it's a good creative outlet for those of us wanna-be writers who are intimidated by the actual writing/publishing game. Yes, I write all the time. No, I've never been published. Yes, I'm too afraid to submit anything. I hate the thought of going through everything to just get rejected -- I can just stay home with my kids and get that.
I thought I would just make your day by relating my little trip into the realm of creating a book for publication. It brought out the best in me creatively and ignited my worst fears of failure. It got me in touch with a new dear friend and opened my eyes to some wonderful possibilities. It confirmed that I have friends in my corner that will always hope for my success, no matter what idiot moves I make. It also proved to me that when things look the bleakest, I'll find some way to survive, someway to keep myself occupied.
Hang onto your hats as we take a trip down the path of my convoluted thinking processes trying to write a book about.....Barry Manilow.
No. I'm not kidding.
And I know what you are thinking: Barry Manilow? Damn, she is crazy. But just hang in there. I can explain. Eventually.
Scene: I was extremely out of sorts, to put it mildly, following a divorce from a guy who wasn't really nice to me for most of the 15 years we were married (she said, being PC). It was the first weekend my children, then 4 and 10, were with their father. I was pretty lost, alone, confused and had shut down emotionally from the stress. There isn't much I remember about that time. However, as I did subscribe to the benefits of "retail therapy", I took a trip to a local super-store that had everything from lettuce to 50-inch television sets. Sure, I looked and felt like I had been emotionally tackled by the defense team of the 1985 Chicago Bears, but at least I was moving. I think I had even managed to take a shower and brush my teeth, so I was actually way ahead of some of my other days.
So I wandered around the store. Not looking at anything -- just wandering. The music department called my name and off I went. I spotted a new CD on a front rack. "Here At The Mayflower". I picked it up, curious, as I couldn't decipher the cover art. It was Barry Manilow. Of course. Barry Manilow! He'd been kicked around like a piece of talentless shit for years...but there he was. New CD and all. Well, ok. Ok...the world still worked on some level, I told myself. Barry Manilow was still standing and surviving. Fine. So could I.
I picked up the CD, left my empty cart in the aisle, paid for it and left the store. I went home and looked at it. I placed it unopened by my stereo. It remained there, wrapped in its original cellophane, for a long, long time.
I don't know why I didn't open it. I didn't open that CD for years -- until my life was better, until I was able to function like a normal human being again. Why? I don't know. Another mystery that is me.
After a couple of years of once a week couch time and whining endlessly to my dear, patient girlfriends, I got ME back and the only thing that I wanted to do was write. The only thing I could think of to write about was Barry Manilow. Once again, I don't know why. My psychologist doesn't know why. Manilow was my life raft and there you go. "Mayflower" made me realize once again that Barry Manilow was very talented and I fell in love with him all over again...just like when I was 19 and saw him for the very first time in 1976.
Anyway, I contemplated poor Mr. Manilow for a long time. Not contemplated like in "stalked", or contemplated like in "losing touch with reality", but just as in hey, maybe I could write something about Barry. He wouldn't care. At least I'd be nice, which was a big foot up from most of the crap that has been written about him.
So in July, 2005, I googled Barry Manilow for the first time (and I hope he enjoyed it). I started squirreling and sifting my way through mountains of internet information. I looked to see if other books had been written about him during the years I lost my Manilow-focus and didn’t find much. Mostly just the usual lambasting of his work, looks, fans, tours and personal life in magazine articles and reviews. SOS, different years.
I began contemplating digging up my own information and maybe...you know maybe...seeing if...sort of...I could...maybe...write something about him. I had some serious self confidence issues at the time, which, you'll be happy to know, I've overcome. Mostly. So from August to December, 2005 I thought lots and lots more about writing about Barry Manilow (which to you new writers is called the “exceedingly long contemplation phase”). I think, therefore I am --- but that's it. Nothing gets down on paper. Thinking will only get you to ... thinking some more, unless you take pen to paper and plop some of those thoughts down.
However, I was keeping myself busy. Which, viewing the whole thing in my rear view mirror, was probably the point. I could have taken up needlepoint or yoga or painting or yodeling, but it was Barry Manilow.
And my story isn't done yet.
