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Tag Archives: London

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I Know a Place Where No One’s Lost

29 Wednesday Aug 2012

Tags

emotions, Heart Songs, Les Misérables, London, love, memries, theatre

I’ll be honest. Last night, I felt guilty about not putting Les Miz in my list of 6 Heart Songs. I know not just every word and every note, but also every damned beat. People to this day think of me when they hear a Les Miz song. I actually (perhaps even sadly) have proof.

How did this start? My parents saw Les Miz in New York and I was in 6th or 7th grade. They bought me the program and double CD. I don’t remember when it wasn’t on in my middle school days while in my bedroom. I probably asked Mom fifty, one hundred times, to tell me again the story of the musical. It was tough to simply piece it together on my own. Speaking of, my true song was “On My Own”. My poor family. At least I know I was on tune, however, that doesn’t really ease that kind of suffering. But I still have that original CD. Just saying.

My uncle took a group of students to see Les Miz when I was in middle school. He was a high school teacher. All I know is it was at the Curran in San Francisco and he bought me a Program. The only other true musical I had ever seen in a real theater was Carousel with my grandmother in San Diego. Poor Unc–he had to listen to me sing all the lyrics from my seat. Although he was impressed at how well I knew them.

I can still sing the overtures.

A few years later, we went to London as a family and saw Les Miz at Her Majesty’s Theatre. Let me just tell you, the entire damned week had been colder than anything, except the night we went to the theater. You know it’s a tight, close theater when you’re only 16 and your knees smoosh against the seat in front of you. All of us were at fainting point due to the heat, exhaustion, and even jet lag. Well, all three of us (the boys and I) were ready to listen. We knew the storyline by heart, and we knew the songs well. But I had something interesting happen–I wasn’t as impressed. Okay, let me clarify–the show was great, but I could tell right away that what I witnessed at the Curran was genius, while this was merely phenomenal. Can you hear the difference? We could.

See why I feel guilty about not including it in my Heart Songs? It lives there. But then again, so do so many others. What about America’s “Ventura Highway”? I am pretty sure I referenced songs that motivated me while “ralking”, right? “Ventura Highway did just that. What about my first concert? The Beach Boys. What about my first music record (non-Disney “turn the page when you hear the chime” 45)? And my first cassette? I could name a song from all of those (“Little Deuce Coup”, “When You’re the Best of Friends”, and Michael Jackson’s Thriller).

If I were to list the pop stars that tracked a permanent experience on me, I’d be one tattooed lady. I love that a lot of the songs on tonight’s playlist are kind of well known, and even “best of’s”. But where is that line drawn? I mean, what do we love, and what do we love? And really let’s face it, what is the difference?

Does one genre outweigh any other?  Let’s just stick to Les Miz since that’s all I apparently have on the mind today. Are there any musicals that have stayed with you? Why did they change you? Are there any that you hate? Can you really hate a musical? Let me know what you think.

I think I need to make more room for my Heart Stones.

—–

Love Will Keep Us Together–Captain & Tennille

Bring it On Home to Me–Sam Cooke

Castle on a Cloud–Les Misérables Original London Soundtrack

Andante from Converto in D for–Molter

Ventura Highway–America

Tramp–Otis Redding

Posted by my words on a string | Filed under Family, High School, Life, Music, San Francisco, Writing

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And it’s Time for the Last Rewind

22 Sunday Apr 2012

Posted by my words on a string in Family, Grad School, Life, Music, Paris

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Tags

answers, French, Jimmy Buffett, London, Paris, travel

I went to Paris looking for answers to questions that bothered me so. It was the summer of 2009. While I was studying in Oxford that summer, I found a great deal via the Eurostar from St. Pancras to La Gare du Nord. I disappeared into the French cafes, restaurants and museums for three solid days. I don’t know if I have ever had a more fabulous vacation.

Strolling along the Seine

I decided when I left that I would only speak French. If you know me, you know that’s not necessarily a wise decision. But I figured, if they spoke English, they would reply in English if my French was that bad. Wise decision actually. I did pretty well, and I’m glad that I made that choice. It was fun.

I chose to take a leave from grad work while I was gone despite my better judgment. I had an enormous paper on Ulysses due the following week. But I didn’t care. I took the Metro everywhere, leaving my hotel at nine in the morning, and returning around eleven or midnight. I took probably 500 photos that weekend. I tried on French clothes, only to be disappointed that they didn’t fit a curvy girl well. I smoked French cigarettes, and ordered wine and cheese for my lunch.

So what were these questions that bothered me so? Continue reading →

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