Ms. Cheevious in Hollywood

My Zany Years Spent Working in Tinsel Town

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When we bring out the big guns

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WHEN WE BRING OUT THE BIG GUNS

#DailyMischief

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I told you guys the story of my sister and I flying out to spruce up the family home a few weeks ago, but I left out a little incident that happened when we went to listen to our baby brother’s hard rock band that weekend.

What do you call two over-forty, totally white chicks at an extremely loud heavy metal concert? LOST.

But we were totally game! You have to understand that prior to this, WE WERE READY TO ROCK! We’d been ready all day. After working our fingers to the bone for two days straight, a rock-n-roll night would be had by all, dammit. We cranked Bohemian Rhapsody, on the way over in the car and sang every word of that song, Wayne’s World style, to prepare.

So, when our bro’s band played only original songs, we were a little deflated we wouldn’t get to hear our favorite Motley Crue song (everyone has one, right? Girls, Girls, Girls? That’s one, right?). Still, in a show of support, we got up to dance a few times anyway.

Then the second act came on. The guy sang in alternating tones: deep and scary, mixed with equal parts “frat boy on helium”. Occasionally he threw in a screamy-terror voice – the kind that sounded like he had a gnarly case of laryngitis and made me want to run up and give him a throat lozenge. But this is where I lost it. You guys, the guy was running around our little crowd of about thirty, zigging and zagging. He looked like a pin ball machine.

What got me was the guy had a cool microphone that allowed him to run out into the crowd. I’m sure he was doing the best he could, but dang, I would have RULED that thing. I would have climbed up on the speakers singing, lured the chicks in the crowd to dance and tear their shirts off… This guy just sort of ran back and forth, and back and forth… And occasionally to and fro.

I tried to laugh and joke about it with my sister, but trying to communicate with her was useless. I chuckled in her ear and told her my hilarious observations and she stared blankly at me. She couldn’t hear a word I was saying.

So, we pulled out the big guns.

When heavy metal is too loud, pull out the big guns.

Gotta love technology, if not for the sole purpose of delivering zingers.

Click here to tweet about the Frat-Boy on Helium…. or here to talk about the gnarly-laringitis-heavy-metal guy.

If you liked the Motley Crue artwork, give a visit to this talented artist’s page: http://nakamarusama.deviantart.com/art/Mick-Mars-paper-child-345610900

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Blog content copyright 2014, LISA JEY DAVIS a.k.a. Ms.Cheevious.

 

That time when ignorance really was bliss

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Two days ago I was driving with Nuggie and the radio was playing a familiar song by Lifehouse called “Hanging by a Moment.”

I was singing along, when I experienced a rare moment in drive-time singing: that instant when you pay attention and realize you are and always have been singing the wrong lyrics.

I sang this:

“I’m falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I’ve held on to
I’m standing here until you make me blue…“

you know, because, the guy wasn’t going anywhere until the girl he loved paid attention to him. Even if it meant turning blue. I laughed and realized how I had imagined the guy was holding his breath, waiting desperately for someone, and somehow I crossed metaphors in my singing. You know those stubbornness, hanging on by a thread, holding your breath til you turn blue, and not being willing to move until someone makes you metaphors? Yeah, those.

How amazingly complex and artistically intricate the brain can be that I was able to mix metaphors into something that actually rhymed, right?!

Yeah, that’s it. It was my brilliance that made me sing about a guy turning blue from standing around.

But that’s not the worst of it. I’ve long been a vocalist. You may not know this about me but I attended college on a scholarship for my voice. So I have a special respect for singing and music, in general. But I love it as well, and when given the opportunity, I often indulge.

When I realized as I drove along the road, somewhat abruptly that my lyrics all these years had been wrong, I somehow was transported to a barbecue a few years back hosted by a friend of ours. Our friend the host’s band was performing, which of course meant I would be joining them, no matter how much I’d had to drink.

I remember telling our friend I absolutely loved “(fill in the blank)” band and had sung all of their songs in high school.

So, while I was up there with THE BAND getting ready TO SING unbeknownst to me the video was rolling. The band started to play, and I started to sing. Only, shockingly what came out were indecipherable lyrics, because — you guessed it: I couldn’t remember the lyrics. So, though my memory is foggy, it went something like this: “Yeahhhhhh… uhhhhnnnn… hnnnnnn… love youuuuuu…”

You get the picture. It was a prime example of my brilliance at work. The best of the worst part? One of my best girlfriends couldn’t make the party while we were there, but arrived a while later. She reported with a teasing grin that she’d had the fantastic pleasure of watching the video of my moment on stage.

Ah, the glory, the lights.

With that I’ll leave you with a video of the song that started this post, and a complete and full admission that I’m much more suited to writing professionally. Because singing should be left to people like this.

But I must admit. When I thought I knew the lyrics to that Lifehouse song, and I sang it happily. Those were the days. That was when ignorance really was bliss.

Lifehouse

 

I know. Yes. They’re hot. Enjoy.