I'm producing a record for the band Miss Molly. Here we are recording basic tracks at Sonic Lounge.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
What does it take?
Last night, on my drive home from a gig in Cleveland, I stopped at a gas station somewhere off I-71 at around 2:00 am. Just for fun, I was wearing a little black dress that had been my mother's. The Mary Anns had had a terrific gig at the Grog Shop earlier in the evening and I was feeling tired but happy with our outing. One of my bandmates was sitting in the passenger seat as I pumped gas. My heart breaks when I think about what happened next.
I looked around the nearly empty gas station lot and saw only a white 4 door Jeep Wrangler with several young men looking at me from across the lot. Suddenly, the Jeep's stereo came alive. I don't remember the lyrics completely but I remember the first line "I don't give a damn about the NAACP" followed a few moments later by the "n-word." Then I realized all the men in the Jeep were singing the song at the top of their lungs and smiling at me. At first, I really thought I was imagining it, but then I realized I wasn't. I stopped pumping gas, hung up the pump and walked quickly to the drivers side of the car. I heard the Jeep engine rev as the men cut the car in a quick arc around the lot. As they swung by the back of my car, I could hear a few of them yelling anti-Asian slurs I had not heard since I was in grade school. The car sped out of the lot, the occupants still singing.
I was really surprised by my reaction afterward. I was, of course completely furious and frightened at first. I felt violated, my whole body poisoned by the experience. I spent the next hour talking about what had happened with my passenger. And what began as pure vitriol on my part, a lame attempt to retroactively defend myself from their cruel attack, soon gave way to disappointment and supreme sadness.
I couldn't help but think "What does it take?" I thought, they weren't born spewing that kind of hatred. What does it take? What chain of events have to happened for someone to feel capable of an act like that? For fun? My other thought was that the Universe would eventually pay them back for that very large withdrawal from the Karma bank. They don't even know it.
There is some part of me that has forgiven them already. She is the woman who, if given the opportunity, would sit them down and quietly ask them why?
I looked around the nearly empty gas station lot and saw only a white 4 door Jeep Wrangler with several young men looking at me from across the lot. Suddenly, the Jeep's stereo came alive. I don't remember the lyrics completely but I remember the first line "I don't give a damn about the NAACP" followed a few moments later by the "n-word." Then I realized all the men in the Jeep were singing the song at the top of their lungs and smiling at me. At first, I really thought I was imagining it, but then I realized I wasn't. I stopped pumping gas, hung up the pump and walked quickly to the drivers side of the car. I heard the Jeep engine rev as the men cut the car in a quick arc around the lot. As they swung by the back of my car, I could hear a few of them yelling anti-Asian slurs I had not heard since I was in grade school. The car sped out of the lot, the occupants still singing.
I was really surprised by my reaction afterward. I was, of course completely furious and frightened at first. I felt violated, my whole body poisoned by the experience. I spent the next hour talking about what had happened with my passenger. And what began as pure vitriol on my part, a lame attempt to retroactively defend myself from their cruel attack, soon gave way to disappointment and supreme sadness.
I couldn't help but think "What does it take?" I thought, they weren't born spewing that kind of hatred. What does it take? What chain of events have to happened for someone to feel capable of an act like that? For fun? My other thought was that the Universe would eventually pay them back for that very large withdrawal from the Karma bank. They don't even know it.
There is some part of me that has forgiven them already. She is the woman who, if given the opportunity, would sit them down and quietly ask them why?
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