Tag Archives: Mrs. Fever

Life, Living and Loving: Mrs. Fever’s September Song Project 2021: “I Gave to You”

This is a 1970’s song by The Delphonics that is so nice and was “the song” for me and my then-girlfriend; we both heard it for the first time at a house party we had attended and as we danced to it, wow – it conveyed our feelings to and for each other way better than either of us could say.

It’s one of those songs that you could actually use to let your beloved know how much you really loved them… and without saying a word yourself. It was our song but musically and lyrically, it just touched me; it’s soulful in that classic R&B way that, today, R&B has a hard time duplicating. The band I was in also covered this song in one of our “slow dance” sets and as the group’s drummer, whew, the song meant so much to me that I had to make sure that I was playing the music instead of just listening to it; sometimes, during rehearsals, my bandmates would have to remind me to pay attention… and giving me a bunch of shit about my lack of attention or, as our bassist once said, “You can go get that pussy after we finish!”

It’s not one of those “timeless” songs and I’m not sure if there are many folks today who even heard of The Delphonics or any of their other songs although they have one song that is more well-known than this one is: “La-la Means I Love You.” For this song, it wasn’t just about dancing to it; it was also about singing it as you danced, too; R&B in the 1970s had a lot of slow songs that were like this where you could dance – we called it grinding and for a pretty obvious reason – and even if you couldn’t carry a tune if it had a handle, if the song meant something to you, you sang it anyway.

The song talks about being in love, from the joy of it to the pain of it; it’s… a sexy piece of music and even when I listen to it today – because it lives on my R&B playlist – it brings back so many memories of being young and in love and not much else mattered in the world other than that. I have, admittedly, found myself crying listening to it because the song just touches me that way.

I’m gonna give y’all the URL to the lyrics which also appears to have a link to the song itself:

The musician in me loves the simplicity of the song although, personally, there are some spots where I think the drummer is… sloppy with his rolls – I wouldn’t do them that way and when my band played the song, I just didn’t but I understood that’s how it was written for the drummer at the time. The guitar parts are… melodious and fluid; the lead singer’s tenor just gets to you, not so much in the way Eddie Kendrick’s voice did or even Philip Bailey’s (lead singer for Earth, Wind and Fire if ya didn’t know that); the harmonies are… raw in their simplicity and that’s not a bad thing; they’re not overdone and, overall, it’s one of those songs that you can just sit and listen to… and think about being in love.

And it reminds me of being in love in a time where the rest of the world was going to shit and the messages to “Make love, not war!” were very prevalent. Back then, songs had messages; they told a story or expressed feelings of love and pain like music today, while okay, just doesn’t do like it used to. This song, every time I listen to it, takes me right back to the exact moment I heard it; I know where I was, who I was with, what we were doing and even that “wondering” feeling I had when the party’s hostess said, “I got this new song y’all just gotta hear! It’s a slow song so grab your man or lady and get your asses up and dance!”

And we did… and it became our song. The joy of it; the sadness in it. A reminder that love feels good and not so much and, strangely, it’s not a bad thing that love can hurt so bad in that sense. It’s one of those songs where you would have had to been there to be a part of how it not only affected me but everyone else who was there and heard this song that night. You just didn’t hear the song: You felt it. One of those songs that, the next day, had me hauling ass to The Record Museum to get the 45 and one that I had to replace a few times because I’d play it so much that I literally destroyed the grooves in it. The other side, which had the song, “When You Get Right Down To It” was an okay song but didn’t get played all that much and was more in pristine condition.

Thank goodness for MP3s…

There are a lot of songs done by The Delphonics that are more memorable and chart-toppers… but while being good, they didn’t mean as much to me as this one song did… and still does.


Posted by on 5 September 2021 in Life, Living and Loving


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Life, Living and Loving: Mrs. Fever’s September Song Project 2021: “Do Me Baby”

I remember when this song by Meli’sa Morgan came out and at a time when R&B was getting more sultry and a tad bit raw. Songs like “Secret Lover” and “As We Lay” were quite popular and along the same “risque” lines but this particular song, wow.

I’d gotten the album after hearing so many people talking about this song; got it home, put it on the turntable and gave it a listen and, okay, musically, it was interesting but I hadn’t really listened to the lyrics all that much until, during a Friday get together with my sister and her husband – and with me playing DJ as we played cards – I put the song on as a change of pace and paid attention to the lyrics… and found myself being aroused by them. What the hell?

It was like she was talking to me, telling me what she wanted me to do and like I never had before and give to her until she couldn’t take any more. The song is playing and I’m trying to pay attention to the cards in my hands… and I’ve got a problem in my pants that wasn’t easy to ignore. Looking around the table, I saw that I wasn’t the only one captivated by the song’s lyrics; my wife (at the time) and my sister were smiling, ah, let’s say, salaciously and my brother-in-law, well, I can’t say where his head was or if he even noticed how my sister was looking at him but he was kinda like me in trying to pay attention to the cards in his hand and maybe with the same, um, problem I was having.

The song was getting down near the end and, shit, I gotta get up to put something else on and thought for a moment how to do that without “flashing” the room with my erection but I thought that we’re all adults here, right? I was going to put on a more up-tempo song when everyone at the table shouted, “NO! Run that back!” and, to be honest, I’d been thinking about replaying it anyway. The card game got forgotten for a moment because our ladies wanted to slow dance with us; the look on my brother-in-law’s face was precious and I thought it was because he didn’t really want to stand up and flash the room and as I wound up doing… but that’s probably why they decided that having a nice, slow, dance was in order.

So… we’re dancing with our wives and you just gotta know that my wife had to whisper in my ear, “Looks like you’re happy to see me…” and if I could blush, I probably would have which would have been silly because, you know, it’s not like she’s never seen or felt me hard before. I mumbled something in reply as it seemed to me that the longer the song played, the more aroused I got and grinding with her wasn’t helping matters any. I could hear my sister giggling over something her husband said to her and continuing to whisper to each other and, jeez, is it just me or is it really hot in here?

I could feel my wife’s breath on my neck, all hot and steamy and now I’m thinking about how to kick my sister and brother-in-law out so I could take care of the growing ache in my balls and, yeah, do her like I’ve never done before. And to make matters even worse, she whispers in my ear, “I know what you wanna do… because I really want you to…” and I think I groaned – well, I know I did inside my head and I must’ve actually done it because she gave me one of those low, sultry kind of laughs that sent chills racing through me. The song hits the high point; the synth drums are banging out the beat and Meli’sa’s singing, “Do me…” over and over and the song reaches its highest point and I shuddered and not unlike I might have had an accident in my pants.

Thankfully, that wasn’t the case but I was sure that I’d had an orgasm as the song wound down and, again, my wife didn’t help matters any by looking into my eyes and saying, “Hmm…” Because I could – and before I knew I had to let go of her to catch the record, I reached between her legs and, how ’bout that? The crotch of her jeans was damp and I just looked at her with a salacious smile of my own. The song ended and to kinda break the spell, I asked, “One more time?”

Everyone agreed that it was time for a different song and we still had a Spades game to finish… and I’d never been more thankful for the diversion. I wasn’t fully erect but I could feel my dick all fat and hot against my thigh and then, if shit couldn’t get any worse, my sister looked at me, shook her head and said, “Get your head outta the gutter or get a room!” We all laughed and of course I had to point out to her that I was at home so getting a room would be easier for me than it was for her. And it wasn’t like she had any room to talk from the way she kinda gingerly sat down.

Man… I couldn’t wait for them to go home! Even though I was playing a lot of different music, this song kept echoing in my head and I still couldn’t shake the very weird sense that Meli’sa was speaking directly to me. I had even mentioned it when we were talking about how good the song was and my brother-in-law admitted that he felt the same way I did and also admitted to thinking that he was just imagining it. Um, no, it wasn’t just his imagination (see what I did here?) and our wives were strangely silent.

And I was thinking about putting the song on tape and the whole tape with just that song on it; there are some songs that are just tailor-made to make love to and to me, this was one of them. As I was thinking this – and as the current hand ended – my wife got up and went to the stereo setup, grabbed a new cassette and handed it to me and said, “You know what to do when they leave, right?”

I’m not gonna say that I did her like I’ve never done before or that I gave it to her until she couldn’t take no more… but she got done and while the song continuously played the whole time.

The next day, my sister and her crew stopped by; apparently, somewhere during the evening, she’d lost her keys and rummaged around the house until she found them in the living room. While she searched, my brother-in-law sidled up to me and asked, “Did you do what I think you did?”

“What do you think I did?” I asked.

“Put that song on tape and…,” he replied.

“Uh, yeah, I did,” I said.

“So did I,” he said and we stood there grinning like idiots and got busted; my sister, who had found her keys said, “Oh, you two need to quit!”

One of the ongoing projects I have is to collect songs from back in the day. I had had Meli’sa’s album, then the CD and had ripped the CD, along with a great many others, to my computer to create playlists and all that and even when I’m in the mood to listen to mood music, “Do Me Baby” is right at the top of the playlist and still affects me the same way it that that day so long ago.

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Posted by on 4 September 2021 in Life, Living and Loving


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Life, Living and Loving: Mrs. Fever’s September Song Project 2021: 2525

My 13-year-old self had been having a grand time at summer camp despite having the thought that since I’d been going to this camp for years now, eh, maybe it wasn’t going to be as much fun as it had been in the beginning. I had gone back to my original camp activities of archery, riflery, and swimming even though I’d already gained every award/achievement they had to offer for these things – and I did it because over the years, I’d taken many of the other activities and they were okay, like horseback riding and understanding what it was like to be atop of an animal with a mind of its own; yeah, TV cowboys made it look so easy to just hop on a horse, didn’t they?

Going back to the beginning, however, allowed me to meet “Christine,” a green-eye, red-headed, freckled angel of a girl who captivated me on the very first day we hit the archery range. She’d been having a lot of trouble stringing her bow even thought the instructors had demonstrated it quite a few times. Being an old hand at it, I went to help her and the moment our eyes met I, um, I forgot why I was standing next to her. Then she smiled… and I was pretty sure I’d forgotten where I was and maybe even who I was.

To be honest, it wasn’t as if I was inexperienced with girls… and in any way you want to define it. I liked girls but this one? Like any other teenaged boy, my hormones were already redlined but that initial moment of meeting Christine was such an instantaneous rush of emotions that I felt dizzy and had to take a seat after helping her get her bow strung and the dizziness threatened to overwhelm me when our hands incidentally touched, making me gasp and I dimly remember her blinking rapidly, her jaw dropping for a moment. I’d sat down for a moment, breathing heavily and, I guess, so distressed that an instructor came to check on me and having them ask me if I was okay broke the “spell” that came over me. I told them that I was fine and the day’s lesson began… but I wasn’t at my best, not in the form that had gotten me the American Archer award just a couple of years ago.

Maybe it was fate… or purely a coincidence but in every activity I had, Christine was there, too. At the rifle range, jeez, I had the jitters so bad – and because she was in the firing position next to me – that I had a hard time locking in on the target; what the hell was wrong with me and an even better question, why was I feeling this way every time I saw her? Even at lunch, my eyes were drawn to her from across the dining room, picking her out easily from all the other girls in that section; our eyes met – again – and I must’ve blanked out for a moment because I hadn’t realized that instead of taking a bite out of the sandwich in my hand, I ate my napkin instead. I got snapped out of whatever the hell this was by the guys at my table having a good old time laughing their asses off at me for doing just a dumb thing.

As smart as I was (and according to all the tests I’d been taking), I couldn’t figure out what was going on with me; before lunch, we had swimming class which was a “waste” of my time since I had long since achieved the highest level of swimmer and, as such, didn’t need instruction. But there she was again and even with her buddy, I had no problem locating her out of all the kids in the safe swimming area… and not more than ten feet away. My heartbeat pounded in my ears and so loudly that I could barely hear my own buddy asking me something. That got me out of my moment and as I went to answer him, Christine had gotten swamped by a wave and separated from her buddy; the next thing I knew, I had her in my arms and her head above water… and I shuddered, then was embarrassed because I’d just ejaculated in my swimming trunks.

Worse, I think she knew it since my front was pressed against her back as I moved her toward the beach. She didn’t say anything (thank God) but she smiled and thanked me even as the lifeguards came running over to see if we were both okay but her smile was even… brighter than it had been earlier that day on the archery range. Yeah, I thought she knew what had happened with me.

It was going to be a long two weeks. My days were filled with Christine and in the moments where we were separated, my thoughts were occupied by her and my nights, oh, damn, my nights were filled with having to masturbate several times because she just haunted me into having erection after erection and even when I slept, it was fitfully and there were too many mornings where I’d wake up with my underwear plastered to me. What the hell is this? What is wrong with me?

Somehow, a memory showed up to explain it all; I remembered the day I had asked my mother how would I know if I was in love and she gave the answer of, “When it happens, you’ll know it!” I thought, at the time, that it was the most useless answer I’d ever heard from her and had dismissed it… until now. Was this love? Is all this shit I’d been feeling and going through what it means to be in love? I didn’t know and there was no one I would even dare to ask being at camp.

Then came the night of the camp dance, which was always held a couple of days before the end of every camp session and attendance was mandatory. The room was filled with laughing, talking, and dancing kids of all ages and I had felt… weird dancing with other girls and either locking eyes with Christine – and being pissed off to see her dancing with some guy – or just knowing she was looking at me as I danced with someone. At one point, the music changed from being up – tempo to slow and the counselors chaperoning the event reminded us to keep some distance between ourselves and our dance partners. I was kinda standing there when the song, “In the Year 2525” began to play and I heard a voice I knew all too well asking, “Do you want to dance with me?”

I turned and looked and saw Christine standing there but, of course, I’d already known it was her and there was no way in hell that I was going to tell her that I didn’t want to dance with her. And we danced and, perhaps, a bit closer than what was allowed but no chaperone came over to separate us. The song seemed to go on for forever as we swayed on the dance floor and gazing into each other’s eyes and at the part of the song where the singer was talking about the year 2510, Christine said, “I think I’m in love with you… and I think you’re in love with me, too…”

Then she kissed me and the next thing I knew, we were outside on the building’s deck. Wait… weren’t we just inside and dancing? How did I get out here? I blinked and realized that I was holding Christine’s hand and she was smiling and even crying; did I do or say something wrong? I was able to remember that just as the song got to the part about the year 2525, I had told her, “I love you…” and that’s when I blanked out, I guess. Standing there in the warmth of the night, holding her hand, wow – nothing else mattered or even existed. We kissed – totally against the camp rules – and our tongues got together and I could feel our bodies trembling and I was sure we were holding each other up… and I was praying that I didn’t shoot in my pants.

We were both crying now after talking about camp being over for us and that we’d never see each other again and I was so in love with her and so totally heartbroken at the same time and looking into her eyes told me that she felt the same way. We got snapped out of our moment by the counselors saying that the dance was over and the hustle of the various counselors collecting their charges to once more put a lot of distance between the boys and girls. We kissed one more – and last time – and it was beyond amazing; we ended it just in time for some counselors to wrangle us up but not before we had a chance to tell each other where we lived… and the exultation of finding out that we lived in the same damned city! That last kiss wasn’t a kiss goodbye and forever!

We’d become boyfriend and girlfriend despite some… resistance from her parents and over that racial bullshit that existed. It didn’t stop us from sneaking off one day when I was allowed to visit with her and, um, well, we made love on a blanket in the neighboring woods and listening to our song on the radio she had brought with her. If we hadn’t known that we loved each other before, we knew it as our bodies joined and we became one with each other. And, oh, how we both cried in that moment and I understood what “tears of joy” meant as I came in her over and over and over until I couldn’t anymore… and even then nothing mattered other than my love for her and the love she felt for me. I knew what it meant when she’d said that she wanted to give herself to me even if it got us in trouble; I remember my mind giving me a “busy signal” to hear her say that she had to do this because she had been told – and like we all had been – that she should only give herself to someone she loved… so she did. We explored each other’s bodies; I remember how she gasped and shuddered as I kissed her “down there” over and over and how she made me gasp and shudder as she returned that special kiss to me and the rest was… beyond beautiful.

Then she moved away; I remember feeling that same heartbreak I’d felt at camp when she told me about it and how her dad had gotten transferred and made worse because we were only allowed a few short minutes to say goodbye to each other and allowed one last kiss before it was time for me to head back home. I don’t even remember walking back home; to me, one moment I was taking one last look at my beloved Christine and the next moment, I was walking through the door of my home. And to make things even worse, I kept hearing our song on the radio, which made me happy and sad all at the same time.

Today, I don’t know if the song can be found… and even after all this time, I don’t know if I could listen to it even if I could find it… but there are times when I think about it and it makes me think about Christine and the first girl that I ever fell in love with… and it makes me smile at the memories of our short but beautiful time together and, yes, especially the moment we stole to “consummate” our love and defining what it meant to make love.

One of the musical moments I will never, ever forget…


Posted by on 1 September 2021 in Life, Living and Loving


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Life, Living and Loving: Mrs. Fever’s Inspiration Project: What Inspires Me to Write

I write a lot about bisexuality and the inspiration comes from the fact that I am bisexual and have been for a large portion of my life… like over five decades. The other thing that inspires me to write about it is knowing that:

  1. A lot of people have no idea what bisexuality is.
  2. A lot of people don’t know how to be bisexual and that it’s not just a thing to do sexually.
  3. A lot of people have questions or concerns and there aren’t that many answers to them that aren’t couched in pie-in-the-sky nonsense and psychobabble.
  4. It’s a kind of legacy thing; I felt a great need to pass on what I’ve learned about this and I’ve learned a lot of shit about this
  5. It’s therapeutic to write. Years ago, I had a stroke that left my whole right side impaired. I had to relearn how to walk and relearn how to do simple things like pick something up with my right hand and other stuff right-handed people normally do and including, for me, being able to type as well and as fast as I could before I had the stroke.

I like to say that I’m “rabidly bisexual” which might sound weird but isn’t; being bisexual is the shit, not just because of the sex that can be had but because it proved to be one hell of an eye-opening thing that, almost right away, showed me the world and the way things really worked. I saw that what we believe about certain things is just the preferred way to do them… but has never been the only way.

Bisexuality liberated me from conventional thinking, beliefs and behaviors. It’s been likened to being blind… then being able to see and now a lot of the things that didn’t make sense started to make sense… and I embraced the hell out of it and, without any shame whatsoever, yeah – the sex is just fucking amazing. Once I started blogging – and blogging about this particular aspect – the thoughts that are forever bouncing around inside my head now had an outlet and if I had a regret, it’s that it took a long time for me to find this outlet and I probably wouldn’t have until a very dear – and now late – friend of mine told me about the blog she was writing and suggested that she thought I’d be good at blogging.

As it turns out, this month is my WordPress anniversary month. I wrote my very first blog on 28 May 2010… and I haven’t stopped blogging and, wow, I’ve had a lot to say about what it’s like to be bisexual and what it means as well as what I’ve observed from others on the topic. When someone asked me, “Why do you write about this?” my answer was, “Because someone has to… and someone has to be for-real about it. No sugar-coating it; no bullshit; tell it as it is and as I’ve experienced and observed it.”

While a lot of bloggers blog to gain an audience and can be all about the stats, eh, I don’t care about that so much; I’m inspired and “driven” to get the word out to anyone who cares to pay attention to it that bisexuality isn’t the non-existent thing everyone seems to think it is. It’s not all about the sex but the sex is just as much a part of it as the emotional aspects are. I’ve heard a lot of people ask, “Why do guys have sex with each other?” and I’m the guy who can answer that question and, nope, being gay has nothing to do with it… and I’m also the guy who is inspired to do some mythbusting and get down to the real and “dirty” answer to that question…

And then to let anyone who cares to read what I write know that the only shame in this is the shame we allow ourselves to feel or allow someone else to foist upon us. Stats aren’t important; the fact that few people ever comment on the things I write about this doesn’t mean a whole lot… but getting the word out there means everything.

I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good, therefore, that I can do or any kindness I can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it for I shall not pass this way again.” Etienne de Grellet du Mabillier is credited with uttering these words and when I first saw this, I was inspired; if I can “set the record straight” about what it means to be bisexual and what it is, then I’ve done some good and, again, someone has to. If not now, when? If not me, then who? I’d not call my the expert in things bisexual… but I know some shit about it and, as one can see when I write, it’s a lot of shit that most people aren’t even aware of because few people ever really bother to dig down deep and as I did to answer a question I asked myself five decades ago: How can something that’s supposed to be so bad feel so good?

Because I know the answer, yeah… inspired like you wouldn’t believe. I know the good of it as well as the bad; I understand the science behind it and if being bisexual didn’t teach me anything, it taught me what it means to be human and no matter what the rules have to say about it. Some bloggers write to excite and stimulate and, well, when I write about, um, certain things, they can excite and stimulate… but that’s not the purpose or reason because if I really wanted to do that, I can and have written erotica and got published (and paid) for it. I am inspired to inform and to the best of my ability to do so and do it in a no-nonsense, no bullshit kind of way because I know, even if no one else does or cares to know, bisexuality is some very real and life-changing shit.

And I remain inspired to be the one to have the nerve and gall to write about it… because someone has to.


Posted by on 15 May 2021 in Life, Living and Loving


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Life, Living and Loving: Mrs. Fever’s September Song Project II – Apple Music

Music is a big part of my life, as a listener as well as a composer and performer. There’s no such animal as too much music and to the point where there’s a pretty good portion of my mind that always has music playing, whether it’s something I’ve heard before or something I’m composing.

I have both an iPad and an iPhone and I always made sure that I had my music loaded up from my huge stash kept on my computer – which ain’t even close to speaking to all of the music I still have on CD that I’m too lazy to put on my computer and a project, due to my laziness, I have been putting off for years now.

To be honest, I wasn’t a fan of Apple Music or any of the other services that offers music, like Amazon, Spotify, etc., because, like most people, I have my favorite kinds of music and, at least in the earlier days, none of them had the music that might pop into my head at any given time. So if I didn’t have the CD already and it wasn’t on my computer, bleh – the various services couldn’t be that good and more so when they say they have the music you want to listen to… and then they don’t.

But when I upgraded my iPhone, they were offering a year of Apple Music free and I thought that, well, it’s free so why not? I’d taken a look at the other services and my son-in-law gave Amazon Music some props but, after checking them out, nah – I wasn’t feeling them. So I signed up for the free year, put an entry in my calendar to cancel it before the year was up, and we’ll see if Apple Music really does live up to the advertised hype.

In reality, there’s a lot of music I can think of that Apple Music doesn’t have, either because they can’t or haven’t obtained the rights or, in a lot of cases, the music is literally no longer available – it’s “out of print” and like a lot of books are. When I have music on my mind, it’s usually the music I grew up with; yeah, some of it I do have on CD but, again, I’m just too fucking lazy to pull out my stash of CDs and put them on the computer so I can upload them to my devices. It really is easier to think of a song, pick up my iPhone or iPad, tap the Music icon, and go looking for it and with the thought that, chances are good, they’re not gonna have it.

Then be pleasantly surprised that they do have it and, yeah, often finding new music to listen to. I don’t remember which iOS update changed the way Apple Music behave but I was quite upset to find, after updating, that my music apps – other than the one that came with the phone/pad – could no longer see the music I had painstakingly uploaded from my computer – it was now all in Apple’s cloud. Okay… my music was “safe” in that sense but let’s face it: Apple’s music app just flat out sucks. No EQ to speak of or any other way that enhances what you hear and a reminder of why Apple pisses me off so much given how fucking proprietary they tend to be and, as such, not allowing the apps that gives me the best listening experience to access Apple Music in the cloud.

And there are few apps in the AppStore that meets my needs… and the ones I often see there includes a lot of shit I’m just not interested in, like radio stations that are streaming music I’m very much not interested in: I want to listen to what I want to listen to and when I want to listen to it and how I want to listen to it, damn it to hell!

Still, um, Apple Music, surprisingly, hasn’t disappointed me all that much when I think of a song, search for it, and find it, adding it to my ever growing collection – did I mention that I have a shitload of music? All kinds of music that covers my tastes? The good part in this is that despite whatever Apple has to offer, I still have access to my favorite music to listen to even if it’s now hanging out in the cloud – and it’s still on my computer so I guess it’s really a win/win.

The thing is that, for me, I can’t imagine a life without music. One of my biggest fears, when I had my stroke, was whether or not my ability to play an instrument was going to be lost and if I’d even be able to remember any of the music I love so much. My ability to play an instrument was, sadly, impacted; while I regained a lot of the fine motor skills required, I didn’t get it all back and I can’t begin to tell you how frustrating it is to know I can, say, sit down at my Korg workstation and I know what to do… and I have a problem doing it the way I know how to. It’s… muscle memory as well as being able to remember what’s called for to be able to play a given instrument… but the brain is mysterious: I know how to do it but my hands and feet – because I’m also a drummer – can’t get back on the same page with each other.

I need my music. Even if playing it poses a problem, I need to be able to listen to whatever I feel like listening to and in the moment I wanna hear it. Like, I was watching a movie – or, really, the tail end of it – and I heard Brian McKnight’s, “Back to One,” a song I hadn’t heard, oh, since it came out – and one I knew I didn’t have in my library or on CD. I had my iPad in hand, exited out of the book I was reading and a few taps later, the song is mine… and along with three more of his songs that also happened to come to mind.

It makes paying that $9.99 every month worth it. Oddly enough, I recently signed up for Amazon Prime – something else I wasn’t really feeling so much but Amazon had something I needed right away so, okay, I needed Prime and got it. It comes with Amazon Music… and I haven’t even bothered to check it out… because I don’t need to but maybe I should; they could have something that Apple doesn’t.

Mrs. Fever picked September for a music meme project… but for me? Every day is a musical meme for me; I pretty much live for music. It’s been an integral part of me since I was seven years old, having been bitten by the music bug when our church organist sat me down at the gigantic, four manual keyboard and showed me how I could make it do music. I could barely reach the lower manual but I managed it… and I was hooked after she taught me how to play “Chopsticks.” Today, I think she’d be proud to know that I learned how to play such a big organ and can play something other than “Chopsticks.”

I know music. I can read it. Perform it with and on various instruments. I can compose it, write it using notation that I trained hard to learn and, of course, I listen to it and hear it playing non-stop in my head.

How’s that for a meme?


Posted by on 15 September 2020 in Life, Living and Loving


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Life, Living and Loving: Mrs. Fever’s September Song Project II: Two Songs

Since the passing of my mother, there has been two songs echoing through me. The first is Eric Clapton’s “Tears in Heaven” and the other is from the movie, “Avengers: Endgame” and entitled, “The Real Hero” composed by Alan Silvestri.

I don’t think there’s anyone who doesn’t know the story behind “Tears in Heaven” and in case you didn’t know, Clapton wrote that song after the tragic death of his young son. I watched his MTV Unplugged performance when it aired and as he and his guys performed “Tears in Heaven,” I was… in awe of the man and that he could perform a song that so much reminded him of his son’s death and the Unplugged version had me in tears – you could feel the emotion in the song and in his voice as he sang.

This was the first song that popped into my head upon hearing of my mother’s death, followed by “The Real Hero.” If you’ve not seen “Avengers: Endgame,” the song actually appears twice in the movie, once – and in part – during the opening scenes and at the moment Tony Stark died after swiping the Infinity Stones from Thanos and snapping him and his army out of existence.

Had tears in my eyes seeing that part of the movie but the song itself speak of sorrow and hope as well as a sense of what it means to commit one’s self to the ultimate sacrifice. Dr. Strange had told Tony that there was one chance in 14 million to defeat Thanos and, at one point in the movie, he told Stark that if he told him what that chance was now, it would never happen.

Then everything comes to a head… and Dr. Strange looks at Tony and slowly raises one finger… and Tony knew what he had to do. And did what he had to do even though it was the one thing he didn’t want to do.

Pretty heroic stuff and the song by Silvestri embodies it… and is fitting as I remember the hero my mother was to me and even more so when I think about how she faced death with a strength, resolve, and utter fearlessness.

The musician in me loves these two pieces of music. I’ve always liked Clapton’s music and it’s fascinated me that a guy with a very British accent can sing without any trace of that accent in his vocals… and his skill and virtuosity with the guitar is unmatched by few. He performed on Phil Collins’ “Let It Rain Down On Me” and his licks, which opened the song, wow. Just fucking wow. Such emotion in those opening measures, followed by Collins’ vocals, the rest of the musical performance – the bass line is deep and the drum parts – which I took great joy in being able to perform myself – just adds to the soulfulness of the song.

And, yeah, it was the third song that flowed through my mind during this time of grief.

Silvestri and the London Symphony Orchestra performed “The Real Hero” – he did all of the music for all of the Avengers movies. Strings and French horns just reach out and tug on your heart right from the beginning – well, if you like orchestral music. The song starts playing in my head – or I open the playlist I have this song in (available on Apple Music if you got it like that) – and I see the ending scenes of the movie and the two of them together running in my mind just touches my soul – and that was way before all of this happened to my mother.

It’s the last song in this particular playlist and I placed it there deliberately even though I’ve added songs to this playlist; the playlist opens with Eugie Groove’s “In Love With You” and continues with an… odd collection of songs set in a particular and specific order to evoke differing emotions; love, happiness, thoughtfulness, and unabashed toe-tapping and dancing like no one’s watching – and singing. This playlist is a rollercoaster ride of musical fun and ends with the heart-rending soulfulness of “The Real Hero” and a reminder that while all things must end, there is still hope remaining and that the cycle of life continues on…

Plus that playlist is set to repeat itself. In this period of grief, these two songs are… fitting. The first – “Tears in Heaven” – speaks to how I’m feeling about all of this while the second – “The Real Hero” – speaks to my memories of my mother and how she faced the things in her life and stood tall and strong even when life threw a lot of bad things her way.

They are, in a way, my songs in the key of life.


Posted by on 12 September 2020 in Life, Living and Loving


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