Vintage blues, or as some call them “the scratchies”,  tell stories and come from the depths of a person’s life.  One of the best visuals of this is the Empress of the blues, Bessie Smith.  From songs of despair and dying like Send Me To The ‘lectric Chair to the ravings about the famous southern musician Charlie Green in Trombone Cholly, the blues were equivalent to life.  Reaching into the depths of your soul and bringing what is there to the surface and pouring it into an envelope of music is what the blues and especially the vintage blues is all about.

Most people today who enjoy the blues do not want to venture back to the roots.  These are usually the vinyls that no one wants to touch for fear of marring them; kind of like the best china that is saved for only the most special occasions that never seem to come around.  Today a lot of this music has been digitalized and yet people are still afraid of playing it.  They would rather play contemporary blues like Stevie Ray Vaughn, John Lee hooker, Van Morrison and yes, even Cyndi Lauper. There is nothing wrong with any of these performers.  I enjoy listening to their music very much as the person whose blog I have hijacked can attest to.

As a history buff I love exploring the roots.  When discussing blues this means gong back and experiencing those who came before and paved the way for the contemporary artists.  The women, or queens of the blues especially paved the way and made it possible for others to pick up where they left off.  Bessie Smith earned her title as Empress as she could be considered the original blues diva.  This gutsy lady, upon being told that the KKK was coming to break up her tent concert did not run and hide as she was advised to do.  Instead, she walked off the stage and right out toward the hooded mob and stood her ground telling them that they would have to fight her, her band AND her tentful of fans.  This five foot nine inch woman who could cuss the wallpaper off the wall turned the KKK on their tail and sent them running.  She lived every word and every note she sang.

Billie Holiday was another Queen of the blues.  She, too, felt every thing she sang and continued to light the path for many others just like the woman whose music inspired her, Bessie Smith.  Willie Mae “Big Mama” Thornton also laid some mortar of her own.  In fact, you could say she was responsible for one of Elvis Presley’s hits, Hound Dog.  The song was actually written for Big Mama and is about a man.  Mr. Presley took it and made it about a dog and had a hit.  If you listen to Big Mama’s version you can really feel why this song was written for her. Ma Rainey is another lady who gets my applause and humble curtsey as a queen of the blues.  She was not afraid to sing about anything.  From being a Slave To The Blues to Countin’ The Blues, Ma Rainey knew what she was providing to the world.  But she could also sing songs like “Ma” Rainey’s Black Bottom with style and class.

Now, before anyone begins to think that I am partial to the women of blues (I suppose I am as they had to do more to open doors for the women who came after them) I must mention some of the men of blues.  While he is mostly known for his jazz (and what some considered a career ending move to pop) Louis Armstrong also provided the world with wonderful blues.  This man did more for music in general than anyone else in my opinion (yes, I am partial).  Bind Willie McTell is another mason who cleared the way for the future generations.  A recognizable voice his music told of life and all that it can bring.

The list of kings and queens of vintage blues could go on for the next ten generations.  However, reading about these great oldies would take away from actually experiencing them.  Take out the vintage and dust them off.  Spin them on the turntable or MP3 player or whatever your chosen mode is.  Reaching back and touching your roots from time to time will only serve to strengthen your core and enlighten your soul.

The Damsel And The Dragon

On the heels of the Queen’s death and the conjoinment of Prince CuChulainn, Princess Emer and Duchess Ryanne, who were now ruling over of the kingdom, came an influx of new faces migrating to the Islands that are called Lost and blending into the fabric of the kingdom deeply enriching the Flanagan Clan.  One of these fresh faces belonged to a comely damsel.  She walked into Flanagan’s Pub one cold winter evening to attend a festive gathering and to satisfy her curiosity about the Clan and other people in the kingdom.

Putting on a name tag that simply read “Parker” she returned greetings with all the confidence and stability of a newborn kitten.  Parker was careful not to make eye contact with any one, but remained on the sidelines watching in wonder and awe.  The crowd was dense and she knew no one in the room.  Slowly she meandered around the perimeter of the amazing ornately plain room.  She studied with care the textures and moldings that would make this ballroom come alive even if no one was present.

Stepping through a side door the damsel had her breath taken away.  She was in the original part of the pub and found herself reaching out and touching the smallest details with tender fingertips.  Studying the richness of every crease and crevice, Parker lost all track of time.  She allowed the music wafting in from the outer ballroom to lull her further into a mesmerizing trance that propelled her into the speculation of the history of the fine craftsmanship enveloping her.  While her fingers ran along the ivory keys of the piano she did not realize her solitude had ended.

As she caressed the handiwork all around her, Parker was unaware of eyes studying her.  She jumped at the greeting bestowed from behind.  Turning toward the door, Parker was face-to-face with Prince CuChulainn and returned his greeting apologizing if she had entered a room not open to the public.  The prince assured her that all rooms were opened for exploration.  He went on to apologize for interrupting her reverie but explained that he was not given to crowds and much preferred smaller gatherings.

The pair chatted for a while then the prince went into a detailed history of the pub.  Lovingly he explained how the queen had desired such a place for the Clan and all those in the kingdom to come together.  Parker drank in every historical notation accounting the construction and dedication of the pub, its ballrooms and gardens.  She did not want to miss one iota.  The more the prince talked the deeper the damsel drifted into the manifestations that are the Flanagan Clan.  In the same reality the deeper the prince took Parker’s thoughts into his recitations, the further she went from the nightmare in her own world.

One cold winter night in the warmth of a cozy pub, a friendship was formed between two unlikely souls.  Parker and the prince would spend hours together talking and sharing their thoughts and their joys.  Enthusiastically the pair explored various parts of the kingdom and enjoyed the richness and beauty therein.  But, always close in the damsel’s conscience was the battle looming that she fought every day.  Wanting to enjoy every blissful moment, the damsel knew she could not reveal to anyone in the kingdom (least of all the prince) that a dragon had come to claim her and threw her into a vicious battle that she fought alone in her own world.

Years before, without warning, Galar entered the damsel’s life.  At first she did not think the dragon powerful and venomous.  Time proved her wrong.  However, knowing his strength would not have given Parker any foothold to banish him from her life for good.  In the beginning Parker did not know what she was fighting and knew even less about how to fight dragons.  Instead of fighting, the fair damsel gave up and ran away looking to find replacements for all that Galar had stolen from her.  In her apparent flight from reality, Parker found herself continually on the Islands that are called Lost and enjoying the companionship of a prince.

Day after day the sweet damsel entered what she called her fairytale life.  It was there that she could be herself again, be whole.  In her fairytale life she could run and dance and even spread her arms to fly.  There, Parker could control her own life and not be concerned with Galar looming behind rocks or lurking in caves waiting for a chance to spring, talons extended and deliver more crippling blows to her already fragile body.

In the fairytale land of the Islands that are called Lost, Galar dared not enter, but the moment Parker would step out of the fantasy, away from the beauty of the land and the companionship of her princely friend, Galar was waiting.  His hot breath steaming through flared nostrils would cause her head to spin.  Galar is a sneaky dragon and does not fight fair.  He has a way of leaving his prey alone and just watching, waiting for just the moment that the intended victim would feel confident that he was finally gone and would plague them no more.  Then at just the perfect moment Galar would extend his talons and use the full force of his mighty arm to knock the victim off their feet and leave the poor soul laying there writhing in pain.

One day, in the early spring of friendships blossom, a messenger arrived while Parker and CuChulainn were exploring gardens on the far side of the kingdom.  Parker watched helplessly as news delivered to the prince that a knight, who was closer to him than a brother, had been murdered by a dragon.  It was speculated that this dragon was of the same nest as the one which claimed the queen and another knight who was a boyhood friend of the prince.  In his grief the prince ran off for the palace leaving the damsel to stand shivering with worry.

Parker return to her home and watched the day the prince rode off on his steed to hunt down the dragon which dared to enter the kingdom and take the life of one so loyal as Sir Jeff.  Parker waved as CuChulainn rode by, but still buried in his grief the prince did not see his friend.  In her heart of hearts, Parker knew she would never again spend time with the one who had given her many hours of relief from Galar.  Demurely patting away the tears rolling down her cheeks with her lace handkerchief, she slowly turned and walked back into her home.  Her reality.  Her own personal battleground.

Deep concern for the prince allowed Galar another entrance into Parker’s world.  She was already weakened from previous battles with her fierce enemy.  Now, her heart broken, Galar wasted no time hurling his fiery darts in just the right places to send Parker crumbling to the ground.  There was no one there to catch Parker as she fell and no one to help her fight this dragon she did not understand.  Now, she no longer had any one to help her escape his relentless torment even for the briefest of time.

One brisk autumn day, lying in a sea of her own tears, Parker found herself curled up like a kitten shivering in pain and fear.  Slowly, she pulled herself up.  For the moment Galar did not appear to be around.  Tattered and scarred, the once fair damsel knew in fractured clarity that she needed to fight back.  After bathing, Parker put on fresh clothes and went in search of a friend.  Stepping back into her fairytale world she reacquainted herself with others she had enjoyed the company of in time long since reverted to memory.  Spending time in her fairytale land with acquaintances she felt comfort that she hadn’t felt since her time with the prince.  Once again, Parker had found an escape for brief interludes from Galar’s ferocious attacks.

Slowly, the damsel regained the resilience she knew before Galar entered her life and wreaked havoc.  As she felt surer of her footing she also found herself trusting.  She began to share information of her battles with those who had taken her in as family and friend.  Neither the Flanagan Clan nor the royals had fully accepted her, save the prince alone.  She was a commoner and not a clansman therefore, they could never have fully accepted her.  However, in a quaint little village known as the Bee Hive Township, there were those who offered hands to hold and arms to lean on whenever Parker was weary from her battles’ rage.

Seven souls welcomed Parker into their world and in return she began to trust their strength and learned to use it during the ensuing skirmishes with Galar.  Even the times that Galar would have the upper hand, Parker knew she was not alone.  There were seven angels who were each in their own way, there to catch her or to help her tend her wounds.  Over time, in the fortitude of a few, Parker found herself winning the battles more and more.  Galar turned his attention from the damsel with the help of a gentle wizard who truly knew how to fend him off.

Parker would return to the Islands that are called Lost from time to time and continued to be concerned for the prince.  However, CuChulainn faced his own dragon and the sweet damsel held vigil against hers.  The season’s changed as they always do, but Parker could now stand in both her fairytale world and her real world with trust in her heart with the weapons of friendship and love to wield whenever Galar came to prey.  Deep within the damsel knew this dragon would never go away.  But then again, neither will friendships found so true.

June 19, 2009

© DL Bach

**DISCLAIMER – The characters in this story are people in Second Life.  I am not, in any way, attempting to mock or do harm to any deities.  The people chose their own names and I just wrote my story.

I spent last night in and out of sleep.  When I was out of sleep I was thinking about everything that still has to be done.  I woke up thinking about this post.

There are those who will wonder why I didn’t come to them with all of this.  Well, how could I bring you my tears when you didn’t want to share in my laughter?  In my life I have had one thing in my heart that I have striven to bring forth to the world in my meager words and that is peace through understanding and acceptance.  The world has not listened.  My heart is not to be heard.  The world is not ready to hear what is in my heart, for it would rather hold onto its anger and hatred.

Perhaps in my next life, the world will be ready to hear what is in my heart.  I believe that the intent of the heart follows you into your next life, so perhaps I have been trying to get the world to hear my heart for generations.  Not this life, but hopefully the next.  If you desire to me honor after I am gone, then remember the message of my heart and learn to accept others no matter the differences and understand that everyone is a human being above all else.

True peace will come when people move beyond the fears of what is different and accept everyone as individual human beings without the anger and hatred that continues to bind this world through ignorance.

On October 9, 2009 (I erred in math and celebrated a day early) I showed the naysayers that Parky’s Pub had what it takes by celebrating the one year anniversary with a six hour gala affair that brought in great DJs and singers.  Still there were those who believed it would close.

On October 10, 2010 Parky’s Pub celebrated with a three hour two year anniversary party (Parky is getting too old for the all-day parties).  This party brought the official DJ debut of Parky herself who kicked it all off at 2 pm.  Then the wonderful and very talented BartyAum Mohegan serenaded the house full of friends SLamily and new comers with his amazing music.  We finished off the day with an hour of DJ Crighton Johin doing what he does best, spinning the best jazz on the grid.

Two griefers decided to show up during Barty’s set, but they were quickly dispelled and everyone had a wonderful time.  Pub photographer, Kimala Kohime took lots of happy snappies and then took some of them and made them into the following video.  I messaged my sweet angel, Aeryn Lovenkraft during the party and told her I had tears in my eyes.  She fussed at me, but I reminded her I had tears in my eyes for the first anniversary as well as for the grand opening.  As I look around and I see all those wonderful souls at the pub enjoying themselves I can’t help but feel that it is all because of them that Parky’s Pub has lasted as long as it has.  It is the great people who come to the two events each week (jazz with Crighton on Thursdays at 5 and Celtic Kitchen Sink with Isobela on Fridays at 2) and those who come for special events and just stop by to enjoy the place during off times that have made Parky’s Pub everything I had dreamed it could be.

Enjoy the video and here’s to at least two more years and to each and every person whom I see when stand and and look around when no one is there.  It is your laughter and chatter that fills the place.  Thank you.

Click the link below.

2 Year Celebration! Parky\’s Pub

I sent out the notices indicating Isobela’s request (she didn’t know what I was doing).  As the doors were opening, our first special guest arrived, the Butt Fairy.  This fairy stated that she came in her sister’s stead as she did not know where her sister was, but knows many have grievances with her.   No one wanted the services of the Butt Fairy unless she decreased the size instead of augmenting.  The owner, however decided to use this to her advantage and was able to keep the rowdy group in line by telling them instead of ejecting them she would send them to the corner with the Butt Fairy.

The Butt Fairy

It seems that after people around the grid began receiving the notices they sent out beacons looking for the Boob Fairy to help Isobela and while the crowd was dancing away to the wonderful Celtic tunes a new fairy flew into our midst.  This time we had the one and only Boob Fairy.  Together, the two fairies danced and played with the patrons who came from all over the grid just to become acquainted with these two fine creatures.

I am always excited about the patrons who frequent Parky’s Pub and when we can have two such very special guests who mix and mingle with everyone else it is all the more exciting for me.  We have been visited by special guests since the pub opened 10/9/08.  From refrigerators to spaghetti monsters and even Frankenstein in a kilt.  Perhaps one day I can get all the fairs and perhaps a leprechaun or two to visit at the same time (our usual furries and blue angels are always welcome).

The Boob Fairy and The Butt Fairy

In February 2007, I was at home watching the Law & Order: SVU episode where they were looking for a person who was involved in a virtual reality world called “Another Universe”.  This gave me an idea.  I found that Another Universe is fictitious, however there is another virtual reality world that was alive and well called Second Life (later in 2007 Second Life (SL) would be depicted on CSI).  I had my laptop at work and created an avatar and entered the world.  Due to not having internet at home at the time and issues with my laptop I did not make it off Orientation Island.  I put SL aside and went on with my life.  In the midst of Meniere’s I dealt with the death of my father and a treatment that took away my immune system and left me fighting colds and infections.

October 2007 I watched the CSI episode involving SL and was reminded of my failed attempt at entering that world.  I couldn’t recall my avatar’s name and password.  So I created a new avatar and called her Parker Janick (Parky).  I made it into SL this time and began exploring.  I would spend my free time at work in SL (I worked nights at a television station and was all alone there)  During my exploration I was clicking things and not knowing what I was doing things would happen.  One time I clicked something and received a blue box and clicked yes.  I then went to change a tape and when I returned, my avatar was dancing.  I sat there and cried for about five minutes.  I could no longer dance in Real Life (RL), but I could dance in SL.

I continued to explore and ultimately got internet at home where I could explore more.  I made friends, learned how to swim and do many other things in SL.  I finally found my life again.  Along my journey I began meeting other people with chronic illness and issues.  There are those who are bed ridden and others who are in wheelchairs.  I have even met three others in SL who have Meniere’s Disease.  It helped at one point when I begin attending a support group in SL for people with chronic illnesses and/or their caretakers.  One thing was certain, we all came into SL for the same reason, to do things that we could no longer do in RL.

I can’t do much in RL that I used to do, but in SL I am thriving.  I own a Celtic Pub where everyone is welcome (as long as they obey the rules) and I host twice a week at a friends jazz and blues club.  I am involved with writing groups and even attend a Writer’s Circle once a week where I read some of my own work.  I recently submitted a poem for a contest in SL and won first place.  I even wrote a short story called The Damsel And The Dragon about why I am in SL and it was published in a SL magazine.

I highly recommend SL to those with Meniere’s Disease or any chronic illness that keeps you from doing the things you love to do.  You can do those things again by using an avatar in SL.  Use this link http://secondlife.com/.  to find your life again, even if it is virtual.  I would still much rather be dancing, hiking and swimming in RL, but for now I will do these things in SL and keep my mind active while meeting new people from around the world and making friends (gaining contacts) in the process.  Don’t let your illness deprive you of your life.

A staged shot taken to accompany my short story The Damsel And The Dragon

A staged shot taken to accompany my short story The Damsel And The Dragon

Some of these spots were really nice and picturesque with soothing music playing for relaxation and meditation.  One I recall was nice, but they were playing Nutcracker Suite.  I can’t really focus on meditation with Dance Of The Sugarplum Fairies ringing through the stream.  I muted the tunage and pulled up the ambient sounds.  That was a bit better.  I continued on in my journeys.  I came across a spot that offered a “re-birthing” experience.  I have recently had someone to suggest this to me (although not in SL).  So I clicked to TP to the spot.

I arrived and found this surfboard like object to sit on and the sounds of heart beat all around.  The textures were amazing.  I followed through fully clothed, not knowing what to expect.  After the initial time, I wanted to fully experience the process.  I TPd back up the the womb and removed all my clothing (actually my meditation ALT did) and I put on some long hair to provide a wee bit of modesty.  Then I took my time and went through the re-birthing process.   I found this to be a great experience.  Educating as well.  I went back up one more time and staged the happy snappies to post here.

The outside of my womb

I sat on the surfboard like area and curled up into the womb

Standing up I looked toward the exit

I made my way to the exit and received a note saying to take my time and when I felt ready – jump

This can be a very nice experience for anyone seeking to do a re-birthing, but wanting it to me more virtual and spiritual than physical.  If you take a large group, don’t worry.  The SIM has two separate re-birthing areas and two people can use one at the same time.  I have added the links to both.  This is where you will find a TP ball that will take you into the womb.  Make the experience what you need it to be and have a happy re-birth.

http://slurl.com/secondlife/Hauwai/99/205/86 http://slurl.com/secondlife/Hauwai/37/177/94

One of my funniest moments was walking through WalMart doing my marketing and there was a display of books and one was the latest vampire book.  I am not a fan of this genre in books or otherwise.  However, my SL friend Aeryn is a SL vampire.  I recall picking up the book and looking at the back cover and thinking; “This looks interesting.  I bet Aeryn would enjoy reading this.  I wonder if it is on SLX so I can send it to her.”  I put the book on the shelf and began laughing.  People thought I was crazy.  I went home and e-mailed Aeryn’s human host who also got a big laugh from it and then immediately set about organizing an intervention for me.

One Sunday morning I was hosting my usual Sunday Morning Blues and Coffee at The Savoy when a friend IMd me.  She began telling me how her RL sister had bought a new skirt and came over to show it off.  Her sister wasn’t sure of the fit and mentioned it.  My friend asked her if it were “mod”.  Thinking this meant “modern” the reply was, of course.  My friend went on to tell her sister it was an easy fix and she could walk her through the steps and to just “right click and select edit”.  Yes, her sister now believes my friend is ready for an institution.

I found myself one day sitting in my front room looking at a bare corner.  I thought for a moment and then recalled a really sweet chair that would look lovely there.  I tried to pull up my inventory to look for it.  Finally realized I don’t have access to my SL inventory in RL.  So glad no one was around to see the fit I threw when I came to my senses.  Another time, I was standing in WalMart.  I was in a bout of Meniere’s due to the rain, but needed groceries and a photo frame to complete my uncle’s birthday present.  I couldn’t make it to the frames and just stood there crying.  My head was going in circles and I felt the strong desire to live in SL where I could either find what I needed in SLX or cam around the store without moving and get the items I needed.

I have often looked around my little skybox and pondered.  If it had a kitchen and toilet with running water, I could actually live there.  So often I have discussed (half joking, half serious) the idea of a TP system in RL.  How nice it would be if all we had to do was click on the map the place we wanted to go to and in a matter of seconds we were there hanging out with our friends and dancing and laughing and just having fun.  This morning is what has prompted this post.  With the rainy weather causing issues for my Meniere’s, I had to take my medication before bed last night.  One of the side effects is that my head is very foggy the next morning and the fog doesn’t really lift for several hours.  My laptop was several feet away from me as I had booted it up and went in to get dressed and upon returning to the front room, I sat down on the couch to attempt to get my head together.  Desiring to journal and check my e-mail, I kept looking at the laptop.  Oh how I wanted to be able to right click, edit and move it to my location.  Alas, I had to conjure up the strength to go over and bring it to me.

So tell the truth.  If not to me via comment, then to yourself for a bit of a giggle or a chuckle (or even a big ole belly laugh).  How do your lives collide?  It is easy to allow and acknowledge how RL seeps into SL, especially the better we get to know those we spend the most time with.  But how has your SL invaded your RL?  Have others noticed?  Do you acknowledge your SL friends to your RL friends and associates?  Or do you just refer to them as another SL friend of mine does simply as your “imaginary friends”?   Come on now, be honest and fess up.

I have loved jazz for a long time.  Jazz and blues are very closely related so I am a fan of each.  Seems everyone knows my favorite is Louis Armstrong.  It is often said that jazz is the black man’s music and white men have tried to take it for their own.  I have also heard it called African Music.  I honestly do not believe any of this.  Jazz is the music of peace.  It transcends race, gender and age to bring everyone together for a meeting of the heart, mind and soul.  President and Mrs. Obama were seated in the balcony with the honorees.  Secret Service were there as well.  The agents assigned to protect the president are to be alert and always focused on what is around them.  I usually think of Royal guards who aren’t allow to move at all while they are standing guard when I think of the Secret Service agents.  While the cameras were capturing the faces of those in attendance during the performances I watched.  During Dave Brubeck’s presentation I noted the faces and posture of those the cameras caught.  When they were focused on the First Couple I noticed the Agent seated behind them.  His eyes were focused and watching everything around them, but his head was moving to the beat of the music.

Wide shots throughout caught everyone with heads bopping, feet tapping and fingers drumming to the fine jazz music being played.  Black, white, Hispanic, male, female, actor, musician, president.  It didn’t matter who they were, they felt the heartbeat of the music that is jazz.  If it moves your body, even your toe to tap, then it has reached your soul.  And that is JAZZ.