The Jane & Scott Show

I’m awake. I will probably be happier tomorrow if I sleep soon. But I probably won’t. Sleep soon, that is. My happiness is, always, unpredictable and dependent on a all kinds of weird things.

1. New Moon. Yes, I’m going. Yes, probably incognito. And yes, I prefer Jacob. Mock all you want. I will now try to salvage some remnants of my pride as an emancipated woman and point out that Edward is an overbearing, bossy prig who wins every argument because he’s older and stronger and I wholeheartedly disagree with many of the Disney Princess values that un-subtly shine through the books. I also disagree with the craptacular production values of the last film. (and I use that term loosely)
That being said, I’m still going.

2. Nuts. I must crack walnuts tomorrow so I can make pancakes on Saturday. . .I hope they crack nicely instead of exploding everywhere. I hope I don’t hammer my thumb again.

3. Church. Should I become an Episcopalian? Does it really matter what I claim as a denomination when I haven’t been to a service since last Christmas? It seems to matter, because Catholicism has suddenly become painful to be a part of. Better to think of nuts.

4. Nuts. I think God invented walnuts just for people like me. People who can’t make their brains be quiet, and who need something picky and demanding of all their attention to focus all their energy. So God gave me black walnuts and scrabble. And Scott.

5. Halloween. I put up a hankie-ghost. It pretty much just looks like a hankie. But maybe that’s what ghosts look like, when you can see them at all. Like an old handkerchief that went through the wash with something red at some point, draped over a walnut (they’re everywhere) and hanging by a twisty tie to the porch light.
Next time you see one, ask it what it wants. That’s how you help them cross over.
But don’t ask the one on our porch – it’s a fake. In fact, after Halloween I’m going to crack the walnut and eat its little spectral brains. Or put them in pancakes.

6. Hankies. Maybe I’ll wash it with bleach. The whole hankie concept is kinda gross. It’s like saving snot and sweat in your pocket all day.

7. Louie Armstrong. Ew. I hope he never blew his nose in the one he was always wiping his face with. I guess he’s allowed to do whatever he wants. Privileges of being awesome. I bet if he came back as a ghost he’d get a whole sheet, not just a hankie. . . although a hankie would be sort of appropriate. Maybe a really, really big one. But Satch probably went straight to heaven.

8. I’m pretty sure dogs go there, too. Someone once explained to me that you only go to heaven if you have a soul, and you only have a soul if you have self-awareness and thought, and since dogs aren’t self-aware beings, they don’t get to go to heaven. Psh. To that I say this: I know a lot of self aware people that are awful. Plus, heaven is supposed to be great. How can it be that good without dogs? I wonder what the Episcopalians think about that?

9. I’m finally getting sleepy. Boring myself. Rox looks very comfy on my bed.

10. I need to crack some nuts tomorrow. . .

That’s sort of misleading, isn’t it?  Georgia doesn’t seem to get dry summers.  They’re sort of long, moist and sticky.  Not in that good way.  Aaaanyway, it was dry for the purposes of you poor, parched Jane and Scott Show lovers, because we weren’t playing much.  We were hiding away, making an acoustic show into a rock show, recording an EP, and sitting on the air conditioning vent.  (Ok, that was Maggie, but mentally, we were with her.)

We are now well into the Fall, having returned with a rocktacular show at Red Light, and all of a sudden things are happening.

So just in case you’ve missed it, here’s a recap and a couple of  teasers:

1.)  August 15th:  The first full Jane and Scott rock show at Red Light.  There was noise, there was a drummer, and the sound guy thought Jane’s mom was hot.

2.) August 17th: School started, and with it writing for the paper, getting into the environment and another rash of escapist song writing.

3.) Sept. 10th: Jane and Molly find each other, and the Great White Bass is sent to stand in the corner facing the wall. (Don’t worry, his story has a happy ending later)

4.) Sept. . . somewhere in the middle. . .walnuts. everywhere.

5.) Sept. 27th:  The Great White Bass moves on to his new home in the Christian Rock Band “A Love Not Lost“, where he will more appreciated than he ever was in my arms.

6.) Oct. 2nd: CD release!!  Jane and Scott let their very first EP out into the wild at Java Monkey.  So far it’s still alive.  We’re monitoring it closely via a chip attached to its ear.  So far it’s about five weeks away from primary feeding grounds on Amazon and i-tunes.  If you want to check on it, call WRAS 88.5 at 404-413-WRAS.

7.) Here come the teasers: Halloween! Yay! (we’re not playing or anything, I’m just very excited.)

8.) Nov. 10th: we bust out some more noise at 10 High (Darkhorse Tavern downstairs)

9.) Dec. 2nd: Bread, the free coffee house on the Emory Campus.

10.) Dec. 19th: Wonderroot Benefit – Winter Soulstice Art Jam at Smith’s Olde Bar.

. . .and in four to six weeks, it should be up on itunes!

Show last night was fun – thanks to everyone who braved the fire-inspired traffic on ponce!

In case you have had absolutely no contact with Jane in the last three days. . .update: she went and bought an amazing new instrument she can’t afford because it was obviously put on craigslist by an act of providence, so now she needs a job and someone to buy her other instruments but in general is very excited, almost giddy, and practically incapable of finishing sentences.

Passe Love Song; or Ode to Molly
I used to be
In an abusive relationship
My Squire and me
Didn’t get on, we didn’t fit.
I played too hard
And he played hard to get
Leaving me hurting
Unwilling to quit

I’d take him out
To be in the bright lights
Hope no one heard
The way we used to fight
End up embarrassed
A silent drive home
But last night I saw Molly
And now I’m no longer alone!

Molly
She’s up for anything I wanna do
Molly
She’s been around, yeah, she’s not brand new
Molly
The softest touch that I ever had
Oh Molly, honey
I’m done being sad

She’s kinda classy
You might say high maintenance
But I know she’s worth it
When her violet eyes glint
Have to be gentle
Or she’ll show all my sins
Yeah Molly
She makes the world make sense

Molly
She’s up for anything I wanna do
Molly
She’s been around, yeah, she’s not brand new
Molly
The softest touch that I ever had
Oh Molly, honey
I’m done being sad

So now I’m selling my squier
To any willing buyer. . .

When I was little, my mother would occasionally get a flash of extreme ambition and bundle all six of us into coats and rubber boots, pack an enormous cooler full of peanut butter sammiches, apples and water, put us in the car, and drive us out to some remote trail head with a map under plastic between driftood poles for a day of nature appreciation.  My reactions at the time varied; sometimes it was very exciting, other times just cold, muddy and foggy; or disappointing because we didn’t see any animals because one of the younger brothers was running ahead with a stick-laser gun, making high-pitched “chew-chew” noises and pretending to shoot everything in sight.  (my poor mom. . .) I remember trying to remedy this by slowing down in the hopes of losing them, but I never quite managed.  My mother had  very helpful older daughters.  I found them officious in the extreme. In retrospect, I suppose this was a good a thing, and these days I think of those trips with some nostalgia.  So imagine my delight yesterday when I  sort of re-discovered this place.

I was innocently tootling around on my bicycle, getting familiar with the neighborhood; I have noticed that when I drive places, google-map directions in hand, I don’t get to know the lay of the land very well, so this was a kind of deliberate get-a-little-lost kind of ride.  It worked out even better than I expected.  I cam down a hill and noticed a break in the undergrowth that may or may not have been a trail, and thought briefly that if I’d had my trail tires on, it might have been fun to explore.  I went a little further, and lo and behold, Nature Preserve!  They even have a place to lock up your bike, so I went a short hike, which turned out to be a long-ish hike because I sort of got lost (all part of the plan!).  I didn’t see too much fauna, but I think this had to do with the one creature that has no fear loud humans at all – the mosquito.  I definitely had to keep moving to keep the little vampires off, so there was no opportunity to sit quietly behind the photo blind (eagle-scout project, 2008) and wait for a red-shouldered hawk to appear.  It was a beautiful hike nonetheless, and I will be going back coated with mosquito repellent to watch for these guys.

The spots actually sparkle! Rad.

And I found myself missing my officious older sisters and exuberant younger brothers, (all of whom have matured into equally responsible and exuberant adults, though perhaps with a bit more of a sense of the appropriate) and wishing I could show my mom the puff of feathers on the ground where a fox probably nabbed a bird.  I was also highly appreciative the novel experience of remaining both warm and dry for the extent of my explorations.  This never happened in Coos County.

So who knew?  28 acres of nature preserve right here inside the perimeter.  Awesome.