Jess Banks schools you.

I’m a very phasey kind of person. I’ve got two big cycles that dictate a lot of my recreational activity/spending. One is my crafting cycle. Because I get bored with repetitive actions, but am utterly dependent on them for my sanity (Bored Hands are Bad Hands), I flow through phases when one craft particularly seizes me, and I do it until it stops scratching the Busy Hands itch, then switch to another. It usually goes in this pattern: Cross-Stitching –> Crochet/Knitting –> Jewelrymaking.

The second is the Books –> Music –> Movies cycle. In each stage, my goal is to Open The Brainbox And Put All Of It In. I’ve been in Books phase for a few months, but I can feel myself sliding toward Music (perhaps checking out 15 CDs on my last library trip was a clue). Another good clue was producing 7 music-related lists on a 20 minute car ride last week. So, this is week 2 of my music jag here on Friday Night Lists. If you didn’t catch the 5 Vastly Overrated Bands (and 5 that aren’t), check that list out as well.

As always, I’m happy when people argue with me! But if my lists provide more of a “FINALLY! Someone who thinks that too!” kind of experience, that’s pretty cool too. In this list, as in others, these are all groups that I’m heavily invested in–the vast majority of them, I love. And now, in no particular order…

5 BANDS THAT WERE BETTER WITHOUT THEIR ORIGINAL FRONTMAN

1. Genesis — Peter Gabriel is a phenomenal musician; you’ll get absolutely no argument from me there. But he’s clearly his best as a solo act, with complete creative control–his influences and personal tonal language come to life when not moderated by the group dynamic of a band. The best thing Genesis ever did was move the mike in front of Phil Collins, and set Gabriel free.
2. Joy Division — Heartless, I know. Suicide is definitely NOT the best reason to look for a new frontman, and I really like Ian Curtis’ dark, earthy sound; after all, it was a big parcel of the seedbed for every goth/alternative artist that followed. But, after Curtis’ death–apocrypha says he put a noose around his neck and stood on an ice block until it melted–the group splintered into New Order, which rewrote the electronica field, and Love & Rockets, which helped build the bridge forward from punk to grunge. Two awesome bands for the price of one frontman–sorry, Ian, but the kids turned out okay.
3. Chicago — I have this theory, you see. I believe certain voices are genetically keyed to appeal, no matter what kind of music/text they’re performing, no matter how much you want to hate them. Peter Cetera has one of those voices (so does Celine Dion. Go ahead, tell me I’m wrong). He was one of the founding members of the band, and one of three singers–keyboardist Robert Lamm and guitarist Terry Kath also sang. Both have a more baritone range, but Cetera’s keen, clean tenor blends so much better with the horns that became part of their signature. Without him, it’s hard to recognize a “Chicago” sound. Besides, when I was in junior high, he said he would fight for my honor. What’s a girl to do?
4. Depeche Mode — As with the first two bands on this list, I’m a fan through and through, but Vince Clarke, who provided vocals for DM’s initial offering Speak & Spell, just wasn’t the right voice for the gloomy, mournful, surprisingly danceable songs that defined them. And the fact that their first hit, “Just Can’t Get Enough,” sounds so much more like Vince Clarke’s later and longer project Erasure means he was onto something even then. But Dave Gahan’s deep, coffee-dark tone is what puts that naughty shiver into songs like “Master and Servant” and “World In My Eyes.” Martin Gore also provides vocals for DM; it’s his sweet, tremulous voice that gives a soul to songs like “Somebody.”
5. Faith No More — I have a big soft spot for these guys, if only because Gus’ Pizza in my hometown had them on the jukebox as “Safe No More,” and as high schoolers, we found that hilarious. They only had one big hit under their belt with the original (at least, at point of first recording) frontman Chuck Mosley, “We Care A Lot,” most memorable now for its reference to the Garbage Pail Kids of yore. And the bass-slapping thrash-punk sound remained consistent, but the addition of Mike Patton on vocals gave their songs the kick in the teeth needed to match the instrumentals. Patton has extraordinary flexibility–for whatever reason, his voice reminds me of John Leguizamo’s, with all its chameleonesque range–and the songs he fronted with Faith No More (and later efforts like Mr. Bungle) are whiplash rides through a wide swath of emotions. Revisit “Epic” if you’ve forgotten.

And just for contrast, here are:

5 BANDS THAT WEREN’T

1. Queen — I put this at Number One for a reason, for once. Queen, Queen, Queen. You were a great backup band for the Greatest Frontman Of All Time, Freddie Mercury. Be content with that.
2. Van Halen — Sorry, Sammy, no dice. Your brand of caterwauling was a lame substitute for David Lee Roth’s sexy, rockin’ purr and shriek. Nice that the rest of the group finally came around on that, too.
3. 10,000 Maniacs — I’m sure the woman who followed Natalie Merchant was very nice and all, but she was the sonic equivalent of watching paint dry, compared with Natalie’s sinusy, kittenesque, sort of Pre-Raphaelite melodic lyricism.
4. Talking Heads — Are you kidding me? EVERYTHING is better with David Byrne in it! No Talking, Just Head sounded just like their name choice: poorly thought-out and missing the best part.
5. INXS — With Michael Hutchence, they were all rowr. Without him, after his suicide in 1997, they were all over the place. They’ve had a variety of singers–one even chosen in a reality TV show–and a string of singles, but nothing that sticks the wall. They’re like the opposite of Joy Division: tragic loss of singer, but they just keep flogging away, instead of growing up and moving on.

I’m kicking off a new series on Friday Night Lists, all about music. I’m a longtime musician–vocal and instrumental–and an avid fan of almost every type of music. The most common question when people look through our CD collection is, “How many people did you say live here?” So I thought I’d share a few lists that have been stewing in my head for a while.

Obviously, I have very definite opinions about stuff, but I’m always willing to be talked down from wherever I’ve treed myself lately. Please, try to convince me I’m wrong! Until then…

THE FIVE MOST OVERRATED BANDS EVER

1. Led Zeppelin–They’re good instrumentalists, I’ll give them that, but DEAR GODS THE SCREAMING. Robert Plant sounds like a cat in heat being skint. And just because you CAN play the same song for fifteen minutes doesn’t mean you should. I’m looking at you, too, Phish.
2. Wings–Paul, you know I love you. I really do. But after The Beatles broke up, you went a little mad. Synthesizers aren’t a step on the Stages of Grief. If I ever have to hear that Christmas song again while I’m shopping for gifts, I swear, there will be blood.
3. Rush–I’m not picking on the ’70s, really, I’m not. Lots of great bands came out of the ’70s (seriously). But Rush has only has two things going for it: concept albums (which almost never work the way you mean them to) and the utterly inimitable voice of Geddy Lee. And by “inimitable,” I mean, I’m glad nobody else can sing like him.
4. The Stone Roses–The biggest of the bands to come out of the Manchester movement in the ’90s, they seemed to think that massive distortion and a whiny, mumbly frontman somehow equaled “cool and inscrutable.” I don’t want to scrut them or anything else. Just ghastly.
5. The Rolling Stones–If I want to listen to music influenced by American blues and R&B, I will listen to ANY OTHER BLACK MUSICIAN EVER. If I specifically want to hear blues miraculously done well by a pasty Brit, I’ll listen to Clapton. If I want to watch someone strut bizarrely around the stage or play drunk/stoned off his ass, I’ll hire a chicken and Slash. They wrote some good songs, but every single one of them, I like better when covered by somebody else.

Now, if you haven’t stopped reading out of sheer fury yet, here are five bands that are/were huge that totally deserved it:

1. The Beatles–The single best assemblage of songwriters in rock & roll history. From their delightfully proto-punk early garage-band sound, to jangly fun teen pop, to wild concept albums like Sgt. Pepper, to the incomparably elegant simplicity of songs like “Yesterday” and “Let It Be,” they deserved every superlative in the book.
2. Pink Floyd–Every time I put on one of their albums, I’m immediately struck by how far ahead of their time they were. I’ve done that for over 20 years now, and I have every reason to think that they’ll still sound that way in another 40. “The Wall” is the concept album that made everyone else want to try one, and some of David Gilmour’s guitar solos bring tears to my eyes every time I hear them. Not to mention the fact that they put on a HELL of a show–I had the great good luck to see them on the Division Bell tour. Staggeringly weird, beautiful images and insane production values. Incomparable.
3. U2–Say what you want about Bono’s politics, or which of the sounds they’ve attempted over the years may have been ill-advised, but they execute like professionals every single time. The best of their stuff is the simplest, the most stripped-down. And time and time again, they changed the direction of modern rock. Another phenomenal show, as well.
4. R.E.M.–I’ll admit to major bias here; they’re one of my all-time favorite bands. But they’re another group that consistently shaped the sound of musicians around them for decades. Michael Stipe’s voice isn’t perfect, and his lyrics are more like abstract word paintings than poetry, but Peter Buck and Mike Mills are virtuosic in their skills, and Bill Berry is a freaking metronome with improv chops to boot. Again, their simplicity is their strength, and even the songs you love to hate, you find yourself singing along with.
5. Metallica–Say what you will about metal, but its mainstream acceptance today owes itself entirely to Metallica. Whether they’re better than Iron Maiden or Black Sabbath or any of the bands that came before them isn’t my department. I’m not even a big fan. But they radically changed the landscape of acceptable music and opened the front door for Punk and Industrial and host of other genres that we can hear on the radio today.

So, Friday Night Lists is a good intention, and even after this last installment of my Dinner Guests series, I’ll be keeping it up (so suggest topics for lists you’d like to see!), but here’s the thing about Friday night: If I’ve been singlemomming since oh-dark-early Thursday morning, my Friday night “WOO HOO” excitement is sneaking an ice cream bar over the kitchen sink before crashing into bed at 8.30. (More on this subject in another post.)

This list was perhaps the hardest of all three to write, because some of my favorite characters from film or fiction just wouldn’t make good dinner guests or conversationalists. I mean, need I cite passages of Katniss’ table conversation, or post the video of Denethor eating? (Not that I like Denethor, just to be clear.) But that’s why you won’t find Gamera on my list, much as I love him. Other favorite characters are not included because I would prefer to host them in more intimate settings (I’m looking at you, Frank N. Furter).

I’ve included pictures of those characters for which there are photos/clips or official pictures from things like dust jackets. In a couple of cases, though, with book characters, I’ve chosen not to post a picture. I’m a really visual reader, and I prefer to keep my pictures in my head uncontaminated by other people’s faces as long as possible.

As always with my Friday Night Lists, please add your own in comments!

MY FICTIONAL GUESTS

• Barbara Gordon: daughter of Police Commissioner James Gordon; Batgirl; Oracle. Her evolution just takes her from one powerful female rolemodel to another. (Batman)
• Death: one of The Endless. Her gentle manner is an aspect of the most inescapable of all fates that both frightens and comforts. (The Sandman)
• Dr. Sheldon Cooper: theoretical physicist; super-genius. Some may find him abrasive, insulting, and annoying. I just find him familiar. Plus, I want to see my next guest make his eye twitch. (The Big Bang Theory) 
• Harry Dresden: wizard-for-hire. One of my best friends, Jim Butcher, invented this wry, embattled, deeply human character, and plopped him in a high-wire act of a life. I just want to feed the man one good, homecooked meal without someone shooting at him. (The Dresden Files)
• Iorek Byrnison: king of the Panserbjorne. I’m sure he’s a lovely conversationalist, especially with the voice of Sir Ian McKellan, but I mostly just want to cuddle with him. (His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman)
• Jamie & Claire Fraser: Scottish rebel, American colonist; WWII nurse, time-traveller, healer, surgeon. One of my two favorite couples in all literature. It’s hard to explain, but I hunger for news of them like they’re family. (Outlander by Diana Gabaldon)
• Jed Bartlet: president of the United States. He’s the president every liberal dreams of; it helps that he gets his lines from Aaron Sorkin and his gravitas from Martin Sheen. (The West Wing)
• Mary Russell & Sherlock Holmes: detectives. My other favorite couple in literature. A man of boggling intellect, the more recent incarnation with a strong, smart wife and partner only makes him more interesting. While my first Holmesian love will always be Doyle’s erratic, exuberant, brilliant misanthrope, I I think I may like Laurie King’s older, steadier, but just as adventurous and insightful version. (Mary Russell novels by Laurie R. King)
• Phineas & Ferb: brilliant inventor kids. Just because I want to see what they’d come up with for dessert, and how it would disappear before their mom arrived. (Phineas & Ferb)
• Diana Bishop: historian; witch. She embodies the dichotomy of science and magic, power and restraint, reason and passion. I want to read manuscripts and cast spells with her. (A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness)
• The 10th Doctor: Time Lord; explorer. My favorite Doctor for so many reasons. I’d have him to dinner just to give the man a rest from all the running. (Doctor Who)

Last week, I started a new feature on the blog called Friday Night Lists, with the first of three lists of people I’d love to sit down with, around a dinner table, and talk the night away. Last week, I gave my picks from the pool of living participants. This week, I’d like to introduce you to my guest list drawn from all of history. Like last week, I’ll give a brief blurb about why I’ve picked each person, and I’ll provide a link, in case you’d like to learn more about the ones I’m introducing you to/reminding you of.

As with all my lists, I’ll inevitably forget someone–much footstomping and cursing will follow. So please share your picks, to help remind me in case my sons ever do manage to build a TARDIS out of a refrigerator box.

MY HISTORICAL GUESTS

• Christine de Pizan: medieval author; philosopher. Her clever allegory City of Women books make the case for a feminist perspective on Christianity, without proposing that women’s only place in the world was as an empty vessel for children or the Holy Spirit.
• Constance de Markievicz: politician; rebel; founder of the Fianna Eireann. She dressed like a man, sat at the table with the intellectuals who planned the 1916 Easter Rebellion, and trained the generation of boys and girls who would see through the dream of an Irish Free State.
• Edward R. Murrow: journalist. Through the new medium of radio, Murrow brought the early days of World War II into American homes, fearlessly reporting from London throughout the Blitz, and from many other hazardous locations. As if that weren’t brave enough, he stood up to the McCarthy witch hunts in the name of free speech and accurate reporting.
• Franklin Delano & Eleanor Roosevelt: four-term president of the United States; First Lady & activist. He engineered the New Deal and the American social safety net, then gave the nation a moral compass to get through World War II. She was a smart, welcoming First Lady, and an inspiring advocate for peace when she founded the United Nations. They weren’t perfect, but my admiration is boundless.
• Hatshepsut: king of Ancient Egypt. She stands out as a fearless female leader in the midst of millenia of patriarchal influence. She wasn’t satisfied with the qualified, subordinate title of “queen;” she dressed and ruled like the great kings of the Nile.
• Jim Henson: puppeteer; director; artist. Who could possibly envision everything from Sesame Street to the Skeksis, and a million sights in between? His respect for children, smart and wacky sense of humor, and gift for finding the humanity in every sock and stick was half of what defined my idea of imagination as a child.
• John Lennon: singer/songwriter; artist; activist. Half of the greatest songwriting team of all time, he lived a second act that spread the word of love and peace, before ending far too soon.
• Katharine Hepburn: actress; author. She was brainy, cool, elegant, funny, and smart-mouthed. I watched everything of hers I could find as a kid, much of it on the big screen, from “Kitty Foyle” to “The Philadelphia Story” to “The African Queen.” She brought immeasurable class and fearless grit to every aspect of her life. I even wear my long hair in a bun, in hopes that someday, it’ll just stay like that, just like hers.
• Margaret Sanger: nurse; midwife; sex educator; founder of Planned Parenthood. She knew that a woman’s power over her reproduction was even more important for her ultimate health, wealth, and upward mobility than suffrage. As you wonder how birth control is even a topic for debate in 2012, spare a moment for dear Margaret and the sheer will and courage it took to fight that fight in public 100 years ago.
• Oscar Wilde: author. He skips from whimsy to horror to cutting satire so fast, it gives a reader or theatergoer whiplash. He was persecuted as a political pawn for whom he loved, and he bore the humiliation and suffering with honesty and dignity, when his opponents had none.
• Richard Holbrooke: diplomat. It pains me that he’s not on the list of Living Guests. His knowledge of such difficult regions of the world is sorely needed, as is his skillful, sensitive hand at negotiations which ended the Bosnian conflict in peace.
• Samuel Clemens: author. Witty, insightful, playful, and profound, Mark Twain remains my favorite author of all time, bar none. Every time I read his work, there’s a new revelation.
• Theodor Seuss Geisel: author/illustrator. Dr. Seuss’ books shaped my childhood as much as did Jim Henson, with their psychedelic, whimsical characters and cleverly wrought language. We hardly noticed the messages of basic human rights, environmentalism, and peace, but they left their mark.
• Thomas Jefferson: author, inventor, architect, third president of the United States. He had a completely unique view of the world, and it gave us a future we’re still unfolding. I want to compliment him on his beautiful home and garden, then grill him on his notions of “inalienable rights.”

I love making lists, but I’m terrible with lists that force me to make Big Decisions. Ten albums I’d take to a desert island? Hah. Ten books I’d take to outer space? Puh-leeze. Ten foods I’d eat for the rest of my life? Are you kidding me? Here’s what happens the minute I finish my list:

*foot stomp* DAMMIT. I forgot one! Let me start over.

But, for whatever reason–perhaps I’ve been away from friends for too long–I’ve been thinking a lot about my ultimate lists of dinner guests. To have even a hope of fitting everyone around the table, I had to divide them into three categories: Living Guests, Historical Guests, and Fictional Guests–I’ll present each in a separate blog post, because otherwise, it’s just too long! They’re in alphabetical order, since I can’t assign them any kind of priority. I’ll give a little blurb about who each one is, and maybe a bit about why I chose them; most of the time, those things are one and the same. And, of course, my Darling Husband is included at every dinner. My children are decidedly not.

Never heard of someone? Know that they come with my highest possible approval, and follow the links I’ve provided. Also know that, as soon as I publish this blog entry, I’ll stamp my foot and think of someone I forgot. Please suggest your own in the comments!

MY LIVING GUESTS

• Alex Kingston: actress; lovely scenery. She’s my female Freebie.
• Alexander Skarsgard: actor; lovely scenery. He’s my male Freebie. And if I can have them together, I don’t have to worry about calling one the wrong name. Isn’t that handy.
• Anthony Bourdain: chef; traveller; writer. His cutting humor and relentless curiosity about one of the most universal features of human life make me want to go where he goes, taste what he tastes, and stay the hell off his bad side.
• Barack Obama: lawyer; community organizer; senator; first African-American president of the United States.
• Bret McKenzie & Jemaine Clement: comics/musicians/actors; AKA Flight of the Conchords. They’re Kiwis and they’re hilarious. McKenzie wrote the music for the recent Muppet movie. What’s not to love?
• Eddie Izzard: comic/actor. His brand of weird, hilarious, super-smart free association humor is so similar to my Darling Husband’s, I just want the pleasure of seeing them riff off one another.
• Ellen Johnson Sirleaf: current president of Liberia; first female head of an African state; co-winner of 2012 Nobel Peace Prize. She’s an icon of feminism and peace activism–what a hero.
• Madeline Albright: former Secretary of State; Holocaust survivor. She’s so smart and grounded and kind; I admire her immensely.
• Mary Robinson: first female president of the Republic of Ireland; United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights. Much the same as Ms. Albright, only Irish.
• Melissa Harris-Perry: professor of political science; author; liberal media commentator. She consistently rocks me with new insights, and she never talks down to her audience.
• Neil deGrasse Tyson: astrophysicist. He’s so smart and good-humored, and he’s got a natural talent for explaining complex scientific concepts to laymen.
• Neil Gaiman: author. He’s written one of my favorites in three different categories of literature: graphic novels (The Sandman), YA fiction (Coraline), and adult fiction (American Gods). No one else thinks quite like he does.
• Pema Chodron: Buddhist monk; teacher; author. She translates esoteric Buddhist concepts into easily understandable Western contexts, and she embodies the idea of compassion, both for self and the world.
• Rachel Maddow: liberal media commentator on politics and current affairs; author. She’s crazy smart, and funny, and geeky. I agree with her on almost everything, but she’s so humble and modest, she’d never admit how much fans like me respect her analysis.
• Stephen Fry: actor; author. He’s incredibly well-read and whip-smart; he manages to be jolly and sweet and clever and self-effacing, all at once. He seems like a completely delightful person.
• Temple Grandin: engineer; author; autism advocate. She was one of the first autistics to really explain to the wider world how the world she experiences differs from the one neurotypical people perceive. She’s an amazing role model for everyone, not just autistics.
• Tenzin Gyatso: current Dalai Lama of Tibetan Buddhism. His laugh is infectious, and so is his open, loving, intellectually curious, and human-hearted attitude toward the world.
• Terry Jones: historian; member of Monty Python. His academic influence can be so clearly felt in the group’s classic skits and movies, and he’s exported that funny, accessible perspective on history well to non-fiction series. I love and emulate his humble, humorous approach to teaching others about the past.

Things you should know about me

• I love volunteering for good causes
• I love making people feel good about themselves
• I love trying new things
• I love making people laugh
• I also use humor to defuse tense situations
• I need to feel useful
• I try to be honest, tactful, and polite, even when they seem mutually exclusive
• I frequently wear myself out doing things for others before I get around to taking care of myself
• I have an anti-authoritarian, rebellious, “Who the hell are you to tell me I can’t?” streak a mile wide
• I’m wild about democratic politics, but not interested in small group interpersonal politics, except in an abstract, anthropological way
• I love when my enthusiasm for something makes others enthusiastic too
• I somehow manage to have abysmal self-esteem and a sense of unflappable calm and competence in crises
• I probably like making lists a little too much
• I’m pretty riled up at the moment, so this is about as passive-aggressive as I get
• I’m pretty sure the people I’m upset with don’t read this blog

Things I don’t really enjoy

• Power politics in places you don’t expect them
• People who hoard information to guarantee their continued importance
• People who let someone else take fire as a leader, but continue to pull strings behind the scenes
• Finding out important things about an institution that radically change your understanding and expectations of what’s possible
• The belief that intellectuals can’t possibly know anything practical about the “real world”
• The stance that it’s not worth even trying new things because there’s the chance that they’ll fail
• Grown-ups who still rely on status cliques for a sense of importance
• People who won’t blow you off to your face, but who basically stopped listening before you started talking
• Being accused of selfish motives for taking on time-consuming, thankless volunteer work
• Finding oneself nominated by the method of everyone else taking a step backward while you stood still
• Being my own (and only) cheerleader
• Feeling like a project that’s meant to be helpful and positive is now nothing but a drag on time, energy, and emotional reserves
• Working on not being such a control freak, and then watching everything go directly to hell the minute I leave it alone
• Being hamstrung on projects that are important to me because I don’t play politics
• The why-am-I-even-trying-anymore kind of tired

Things I actually do enjoy

• Kids wanting to hug me, high-five me, say hi to me, tell me a joke, or ask when I’m coming back to their class, every time I walk down a school hallway
• When good, solid, simple plans work like they’re supposed to, defying others’ expectations of failure
• Having another project that actually is working, and doing good, and is appreciated
• People who feel like I’m approachable and non-judgmental, even when the group I represent leaves them feeling excluded from a secret society
• Helping friends
• Helping kids
• Helping strangers
• Helping anyone, anywhere, anytime I’m asked
• My hair color, even if I’m “too old” to be doing weird stuff like this
• A good old-fashioned bitch session
• People who support me when I go out on a limb with good intentions
• Participating in conversations that have no mysterious subtexts or power dynamics I don’t know about
• Making my own social group where the misfits feel welcome and valued
• A level playing field
• Offering a graceful way out of the corner someone has painted themselves into (eventually)
• The job-well-done kind of tired

Websites all over the Internet are blacked out today, in protest against the proposed anti-piracy legislation making its way through the US Congress. I am not technically skilled, and while I would’ve gladly joined the protest, none of the passionate emails and postings urging folks to add their weight to the boycott actually gave instructions on how to black out your website.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t protest in my own little way. So I’m doing something that would get my site shut down, if the proponents of SOPA and PIPA have their way. It’s harmless, it’s fun, and it’s exactly the kind of free speech that these misguided bills would needlessly strangle.

THINGS YOU WON’T BE ALLOWED TO SAY ON THE INTERNET IF SOPA AND PIPA PASS

• “I really hate those stupid Mickey Mouse homework assignments.”
• “Say hello to my little friend…Pepe the chihuahua.”
• “Avengers, assemble by the third floor elevator for evacuation.”
• “I was birdwatching in the marsh, and I think I saw the first Captain Jack sparrow returning from Mexico.”
• “I see dead people…and they look good, thanks to the fine folks at Peterson Mortuary and Funeral Home!”
• “It’s a lovely bowl, but it was made by the most extraordinarily hairy potter you can imagine.”
• “Luke, I am your father, not some guy off the street who you can just ign…come back here!”
• “Th-th-th-that’s all folks! I mean it, you can’t stay here when the heat isn’t working.”
• “The cake is a lie. All those Weight Watchers desserts are actually made of tofu.”
• “Would you please just buzz Lightyear? I’ve been in this waiting room for 45 minutes!”
• “Honey, you can’t keep working and cleaning and running a Girl Scout troop and volunteering at church; you’re not Wonder Woman.”
• “The best way to get to the bridge is to go via Com…no, wait, that’s always backed up this time of day.”
• “Grab your stopwatch, we’re going to time Warner as he says his multiplication tables!”
• “I can’t believe how long you look in the mira, Max–you’a just some kid from Brooklyn.”
• “Dis knee is killing me, Doc. I vish my Enklish vas better zo I could tell you.”

There. That should do the trick.

REVERB GAMERS 2012, #7: How do you pick names for your characters? (Courtesy of Atlas Games.)

I’m influenced quite a bit by the setting–if there’s a clear analog to a time period or ethnic culture, I like to find a name that fits in the landscape. Just Google “baby names” and you’ll find all sorts of fantastic lists, often with meanings attached; www.babyhold.com has one of my favorites, with lots of ethnic names to choose from. I also read a lot, and books are fantastic sources of names. You might even keep a list of your own, with your gaming supplies, so you can remember the nifty names you come across in odd places. I’ve been inspired by names I found in alumni mailings, historical documents, garden centers, news reports, even on menus (I once had a pulp character named Wasabi Delmonico, after a steak description at a trendy bar and grill!).

And in case you’re the kind who does keep lists, here’s an incomplete list of character names I’ve used over the years (in no particular order): Selwyn, Rebekah, Julia, Rosemary, Margaret (aka Maggie the Book), Caledonia (Callie, for short), Bethan, Mercia, Anthea, Amara, Constance, Helga (the Wonder Nurse), Astrid, Marilla, Serafina, Lysimachia (Lysa for short; it’s the Latin name for Loosestrife, which is awesome for a fairy name), Stella Cordaric, Twink (the halfling barbarian with a soup pot for a helmet), and Freya. I know I’ll kick myself for the ones I’m forgetting, but if any of you dear readers can remember other characters I’ve played over the years, feel free to post names in comments!

REVERB GAMERS 2012, #8: What’s the one gaming accessory (lucky dice, soundtrack, etc.) you just can’t do without? Why? (Courtesy of Atlas Games.)

I’m terrible at sitting still; I have Busy Hands ™. So my essential gaming accessory is a craft to work on while the game’s in progress. Over the years, I’ve crocheted, knitted, cross-stitched, and made jewelry at the gaming table; I do this while visiting, watching movies, even during church services (thank the gods for circular bamboo knitting needles; no danger of a mortifying clatter when you accidentally drop your knitting). This is what I’m working on at the moment; you can see examples of my jewelry here.

Some people–even other women–this takes aback. From the reactions I’ve gotten from some men at convention games as I took out my tools and fibers, you’d think I’d just whipped out a breast instead. Somehow, it seems, my crafting was an unwanted feminine intrusion into their macho adventure space. In other groups, it was the norm. The battlemat was littered with scraps of embroidery floss, yarn ends, wire snippings, and stray seed beads. All the women around the table were industriously working away on their blankets, quilts, or wall hangings, stopping only to roll a handful of dice and briskly announce, “I kill it.” It was like the awesomest kind of quilting bee-slash-special forces raid.

I know that not everyone can deal with someone efficiently multi-tasking in their presence; it looks to them like I’m not paying attention as they play their part of the scene. What I try to make them understand is that I’m actually far less likely to stay focused on the action if my hands are busy. That physical occupation calms the restless, seeking portion of my mind, allowing the creative part to fully concentrate in the mental task at hand. I’d be curious to know how many other gamers on the ASD spectrum function better while stimming. I’m fortunate that my stim of choice masks what it’s doing for me in a sensory capacity. And when I’m done stimming, I have pretty things to show for it.

Reverb Broads 2011, December 30: If you could go on a trip regardless of cost, where would you go and what would you see? (courtesy of Dana at http://simply-walking.com)

I’ve already been crazy fortunate in how much of the world I’ve seen. I’d been to all 48 contiguous states, most of the provinces of Canada, and across the Mexican border before I graduated from high school. By the time I got married at 21, I’d added England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, France, Belgium, The Netherlands, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Poland, the Czech Republic, Italy, and New Zealand to the list. Like I said, crazy fortunate.

Still, there’s a whole lot of world left to see, and I’m an adventurous traveller. There are loads of things I want to see and do out there. Here are just a few:

• I want to see the wooden shrine at Ise in Japan. It’s the principal shrine for the Japanese Imperial Cult, and every twenty years, they completely rebuild the entire shrine complex on an adjoining plot because Shintos believe natural spirits live in trees, and renewing the wood rejuvenates the spiritual power of the temple.

• I want to sleep on a rooftop in Greece under that blue, blue Mediterranean summer sky.

• I want to eat my way across India, and wrap myself in its bright silk, and bathe in the holy Ganges, and let the liquid syllables of Hindi and all its dialects wash over me in the breathtaking heat.

• I want to take my family to the parts of America that stick in my memory like splinters: Mount Rushmore, the Badlands, the Black Hills, the Colorado Rockies, Yellowstone, Crater Lake, Bryce Canyon, the Grand Canyon, New Orleans, Savannah, Charleston, Vermont, Bar Harbor.

• I want to go alone to a storm-washed rock in the North Atlantic or Irish Sea and let the ascetic austerity settle deep in my spirit: Skye, Skellig Michael, Iona.

• I want to steep myself in the spices and the history of Morocco and Egypt.

• I want to hear the crackle and chime of the Aurora Borealis, or the eerie midnight sun, across the skies of Iceland and Sweden.

There are a few places I have relatively less interest in visiting (Russia, South America), but were I offered the opportunity, I’d be on a plane in a heartbeat, because I love the adventure of it all. And there are places I want to go, not for pleasure, but to help with the meager skills I have to leverage: Haiti, Congo, or Senegal.

In short, I want to keep travelling. I want to see everything.

Reverb Broads 2011, December 29: What was the soundtrack of your year? Of your life? Which songs most strongly represent the various eras of your life? What songs were playing for the most crucial, formative moments of your life? Or, if the chronological approach doesn’t work for you, which songs best capture the different facets of your life? (Childhood, Love Life, Adulthood, Loss, Growth, Career, Happiness, Sadness, etc.) Please elaborate. (courtesy of Bethany/Katie)

These are just a few of my songs. I know, the list is unbelievably long as it is, but it feels so incomplete. Some of them, I don’t even like, but most of them I always have and always will. And, for better or for worse, they’re like little hyperlinks to my memory. I did the best I could with the actual links; there’s supposed to be a YouTube clip attached to each. If it doesn’t go where it’s supposed to, you can Google as well as (or better than) I can. And how could I do it in anything other than mixtape form?

Side A: Child and Teen Jess

“The Bare Necessities” from Disney’s The Jungle Book — my favorite movie, age 2

The Star Wars theme — my new favorite movie, age 2.5

“Stardust” by Willie Nelson — my first concert, age about 2

“Help!” by The Beatles — Mom is a Beatlemaniac, and she started us young

“The Rainbow Connection” from The Muppet Movie — my new favorite movie, age 4; also excellent for showing off at the rollerskating rink

“Tomorrow” from Annie — my new favorite movie, age 7, and a good audition piece

“Mickey” by Toni Basil — those first heady days of MTV and the roller-rink

“Thriller” by Michael Jackson — the cassette I got with my first walkman

“Purple Rain” by Prince — my first R-rated movie (I still stop to watch it whenever it’s on VH1)

“The One I Love” by R.E.M. — my first taste of college radio in my stepbrother’s room

“All Cried Out” by Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam — my first junior high dance drama

“(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” by Bill Medley and Gloria Loring from Dirty Dancing — my new favorite movie, age 13

“Watermark” by Enya — mission trip to Appalachia, and my first taste of New Age music

“Everyday Is Like Sunday” by Morrissey — my first kiss

“So Alive” by Love and Rockets — my first chaperone-less concert

“With Or Without You” by U2 — my first high school dance drama, and the beginning of a 10-month abusive relationship

“Three Little Maids from School Are We” from The Mikado — my first college-level theater experience, as a HS sophomore in the chorus

“Skid Row (Downtown)” from Little Shop of Horrors — music from the soundtrack I sang with my girlfriends as they took me in and protected me after the abuse

“Blue Monday” by New Order — falling in love at music camp

“Cuts You Up” by Peter Murphy — first (voluntary) you-know-what

“In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel — first big breakup

“You Are The Everything” by R.E.M. — falling in love at World Affairs Seminar

“Comfortably Numb” by Pink Floyd — senior year long-distance relationship

“Blister in the Sun” by Violent Femmes — senioritis and graduation

“Under the Bridge” by Red Hot Chili Peppers — school trip to France

Side 2 — College and Old Jess

“These Are Days” by 10,000 Maniacs — first semester of college

“One Night in Bangkok” from Chess — first off-campus apartment with a boyfriend

“Supervixen” by Garbage — AmberMUSH and the start of so many good things

“Possession” by Sarah McLachlan — end of an engagement; freedom

40-Part Motet by Thomas Tallis — singing in my fantastic college choir

“Linger” by The Cranberries — study abroad in France, and the beginning of a courtship

“Black Hole Sun” by Soundgarden — dating by phone call and mix tape

“Je t’aimais, je t’aime, et je t’aimerai” by Francis Cabrel — life in France

“Ngaire” by The Mutton Birds — planning a wedding, half a world away

“The Macarena” by Los del Rio — coming home, and the ’96 Olympics in Atlanta

“The Lark in the Clear Air” (trad. Irish) — the song I sang at our wedding

“Darling Nikki” by Prince — working at the record store, the song we had to sprint the length of the floor to skip before he sang the word “masturbating”

“He Watching Over Israel” from Mendelssohn’s Elijah — staging the oratorio as an opera, with my fantastic college choir again

“Candle In The Wind” by Elton John — moving to Pennsylvania

“Tubthumping” by Chumbawumba — first semester of grad school

“The Trick Is To Keep Breathing” by Garbage — my fibromyalgia diagnosis, and the depression that followed

“Du Hast” by Rammstein — so very sick during my first pregnancy, but the baby loved this song, before and after birth

“The Night” by Morphine — the song playing while I was in labor with my first son

“Woke Up This Morning” by Alabama 3, from The Sopranos— that first long summer of motherhood

“Fix You” by Coldplay — my second son arrives

“American Idiot” by Green Day — mad, mad motherhood

“Business Time” by Flight of the Conchords — moving to Wisconsin, and gaming conventions

“What’s Left of the Flag” by Flogging Molly — life in Wisconsin among my Irish family

“I Will Follow You Into The Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie — teaching at Carroll and getting by

“We Used to Be Friends” by The Dandy Warhols, from Veronica Mars — moving to Minnesota, and depression I almost didn’t survive

“Bad Things” by Jace Everett, from True Blood — rediscovering joy

“Paparazzi” by Lady Gaga — the long, hard winter, and children old enough to start influencing their parents’ listening habits

“The Parting Glass” by The High Kings — a much better summer

“Firework” by Katy Perry — the Next Big Thing arrives for my Darling Husband

“I Still Believe” by Frank Turner and the Sleeping Souls — back to school, and the best concert I can remember