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I was a bit surprised and embarrassed to see that there were only six of us in the theater. As a matter of fact, the absence of advertising was strikingly apparent. There were no posters in the lobby and no lights or billboards promoting the event. I found this odd—wouldn’t they want as many people to attend as possible?
“Chickenfoot Live” was filmed in high definition with surround sound. It opened with the band in a huddle, bent inward, as Sammy Hagar said his customary blessing.
The next scene showed Joe Satriani, Chad Smith, Michael Anthony and Sammy onstage in Phoenix, AZ, and they opened with “Avenida Revolution.” I expected the sound to blow me out of my seat, the way it did when I saw them in concert, but it didn’t. Maybe the establishment needed to turn up the volume.
The theater also presented the picture with the bottom edge cut off because it overflowed the screen. This was distracting.
The close-ups were one of my favorite aspects of this movie—Chad, Joe, Sammy and Mike sweating and rocking their hearts out. There were a lot of interesting shots here, views the ordinary concert-attendee wouldn’t normally see, such as a shot looking down on Chad and his drums. Nice!
And the vocals were amazing. I don’t know if the film was tweaked to enhance range and singing in key, but the vocals were spot-on perfect. So was the music.
I would have liked to have seen performances from a few of the other shows thrown in though. I also would have liked to have seen the between-the-songs antics the band is known for. Not only are they outstanding musicians, their personal interaction with the fans is something that makes attending a Chickenfoot concert truly a memorable experience. Maybe I’m spoiled, but I felt cheated not having been let in on this important part of the show. While Joe normally just stands there smiling and blowing the walls off the place with his unparalleled guitar proficiency, Sammy and Chad usually ham it up with the audience and involve the fans. Sometimes even Mikey joins in. When Chickenfoot came to Denver this past September (see my post “The Foot Comes Down in Denver” dated Sept.15 ,2009) Chad brought a woman from the audience onstage. He stuck his drumsticks down the front of her shirt and pulled sticks out one by one, then tossed them to the crowd.
I also didn’t think the movie showcased the incredible energy Chad has. And although it did a good job of portraying Satriani’s talent, I think it could have complimented him a bit more. The film’s portrayal of Hagar and Anthony though, was very well done. Some of the shots of Mikey were phenomenal; it made me feel like I was right there onstage with him. And there was a close-up of Sammy screaming into the mic that made me feel it all the way down my spine.
I loved every minute of “Chickenfoot Live.” And when I went online this morning and read some of the reviews from fans across the nation, I realized they too, noticed only a handful of people in the theaters. I think I know why. “Chickenfoot Live” wasn’t advertised because it was a personal gift from the band to their fans, a kind of “by-invitation-only” special screening, perhaps as a thank you to those of us who have supported them. Of course I could be mistaken, but I don’t think so.
Was the film “almost as good as being there?” Not even close. Chickenfoot explodes live. But if this is as good as it gets for you in lieu of a live performance, you won’t be disappointed.
Wish I was going to Vegas for their final concert on December 5.
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If my mammogram had been normal, I wouldn’t have found myself in the tiny room with the radiologist that day. As she brought up the round white cloud on the black screen, I sat erect in my chair. Slouching would have been like admitting defeat.
“You have an abnormal spot on your mammogram,” she announced. “We need to do surgery.”
There's a lot of cancer on both sides of my family, so I was scared. I wondered if I might lose my breast or if it would be deformed from having tissue removed.
As I scheduled the surgery, I prayed. I also contacted my friends and asked them to send positive thoughts.
Then something remarkable happened.
I have a friend who practices Sufism. He’s also an incredible professional drummer. We’d lost touch over the years and I’d tried contacting him, but never had any luck.
For the past two weeks, though, I had a feeling I should try reaching him again.
I sent an email and he responded, inviting me to his concert the following night!
After the show, I told him I’d been having some health problems.
“Do you have any friends who can do a healing with you?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
“Would you be open to that kind of thing?”
“I’d be open to just about anything at this point.” I felt a sense of comfort even then.
He introduced me to several people and told them to arrange a healing circle dance with me. A week later, I received an email telling me where and when the dances were held and that Sufi master Shabda Kahn would be making a rare appearance at the next dance.
I went.
Continue reading "The Healing Power of Music and Mysticism" »
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…that desperately wants me to tell my story, DANCE OF THE ELECTRIC HUMMINGBIRD.
I’m absolutely positive about this because my post, “Semantics,” dated Oct. 21, 2009, almost didn’t get published, for the same reason I keep working so hard at DANCE OF THE ELECTRIC HUMMINGBIRD. I’m trying to cross all my “t’s” and dot all my “i’s” and bending over backward to get everyone’s approval every step of the way—I’m so afraid of offending anyone.
But I believe our interpretations of the events in our lives and the meaning of those events is something that is strictly personal and comes to us in a way that’s unique to each person’s way of understanding. What’s right for one isn’t necessarily right for someone else. This goes for tastes in food and living conditions as well as spiritual beliefs.
Just when I’d been hesitating to publish “Semantics,” I received an update from the founder of the Northern Colorado Writer’s Association, of which I am a member. Kerrie Flanagan’s blog featured a gifted writer by the name of Laura Resau, who wrote about how shamanism played a major role in a lot of her books. Laura said shamans believe that their power comes from a divine source and this power translates itself into words or stories, much like what writers have to do. She also provided a link to a talk by Elizabeth Gilbert, author of the immensely successful EAT, PRAY, LOVE.
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I HAVE FINISHED THE MANUSCRIPT!!!! Yes, I’m shouting. Six years of toil—blood, sweat and tears…
I’ve changed the title of my book from Wings of Rock to: DANCE OF THE ELECTRIC HUMMINGBIRD. (You’ll have to read it to see why I’ve chosen this title.)
This too, is subject to change at any time, as writing is a never-ending process. I’m told publishers often change the title anyway, unless they absolutely love it, so I’m prepared for that.
My editor is now checking the entire manuscript for punctuation and grammar, so this is the final writing stage before submission. She should be finished by the end of next week. After that, hopefully it will only take me a day or two to incorporate the changes.
I have also finished my query letter and am very pleased with it.
The next step is finding an agent. A professional author is giving me a recommendation to someone, so please send positive vibes my way. I have a really good feeling about this; I don’t know why!
I also now have a new endorsement. I’m so excited! Here it is:
"Pat Walker's memoir is a joy. It is Eat, Pray, Love for the common woman -- you know, the vast majority of us who can't travel the world because we're stuck at home, doing laundry and driving kids around. I laughed out loud, but I also discovered that serious transformation can occur when one is open to it. In other words, it gives me hope."
-- Laura Pritchett, winner of PEN/USA Award and Milkweed National Fiction Prize
I’m deeply honored to have this endorsement, as giving people hope is what I’ve worked tirelessly to accomplish with my book. I will put this blurb under the “Praise” tab here on “Voice of the Spirit.” However, please don’t get the impression that my book is for women only—it’s for everyone!
Continue reading "Book Update: A New Endorsement and Other Exciting Things in the Works!" »
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We arrived at the theater early so we could get a good seat. I thought we’d have to wait in line forever. I thought the place would be crammed with fans wearing one white glove, Michael tee shirts and holding “I love Michael” signs.
It wasn’t.
This alone made me sad.
Maybe it’s my age, I thought. Or perhaps it’s where I live—maybe a lot of people have espoused the belief that Michael Jackson was a pedophile.
I’ve posted my feelings about that before, so I won’t go into it here. See my entry of July 1, 2009 if you’re interested.
Whatever the reason, there were only a handful of people in the theater. Too bad for those who didn’t make the effort.
I have one word for this film: SPECTACULAR.
It wasn’t about Michael Jackson’s plastic surgeries, “Neverland” or the allegations brought against him in the past. “This Is It” was about the man’s musical genius. Period.
And he was. He transcended gender. He transcended race. And in this movie, he transcended the ultimate performance.
Continue reading "Movie Review: "This Is It"--Michael Jackson" »
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Sammy Hagar recently celebrated his birthday at his Cabo Wabo Cantina in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico with five days of rock ‘n’ roll, commencing on October 7 and culminating with his birthday “party” on October 13. You’d never guess by looking at him that he’s 62; he looks at least 20 years younger and has more energy than most 30-year olds—still touring around the world with his latest band, Chickenfoot.
The final concert of the birthday bash was almost cancelled due to the rain, which fell nearly every day and flooded the streets. Luckily it held off long enough for the show to take place, resuming its incessant misting (it doesn’t really rain down there, it mists heavily) by the time all was said and done.
I was fortunate to be able to acquire tickets to each show, a feat that’s becoming increasingly difficult to do. This is because the requirement for getting tickets is having to wait in line all night on the cobblestones of Mexico’s cockroach-ridden, dusty sidewalks, and this time there was an added bonus—it was raining.
Each year my body convinces me that I won’t do it again next year. And yet I do. Why?
Because there is something magical about Cabo. And because in Cabo Sammy lets his hair down a little more than he does while on tour. And also because you never know who might show up to jump onstage and join the party. In the past, there have been such music legends as Ted Nugent, Jerry Cantrell, Billy Duffy, Toby Keith, Kenny Chesney, Chad Kroeger, and many others. This year the bash was in full swing as Sammy and Michael Anthony (former bass player of Van Halen) repeatedly snagged other people’s drinks off the trays of passing waitresses and helped themselves to a swig. They then replaced the drinks, but not before refilling them with tequila from the bottles chilling in the buckets onstage.
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The other day, a man I’d never met before asked me what my book was about.
“It’s supernatural; it’s spiritual—about a mystical experience I had in the middle of a concert that changed my life. It also involves a famous rock star…” I started to say.
As I spoke, I noticed that the man, an older gentleman dressed in a biker’s vest with the word “VET” sewn onto it, was attempting to disguise the look of disappointment spreading across his face.
“Supernatural is different than spiritual,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and backing off a bit.
“No, I had an out of body experience…” I continued, and this time as I tried to explain it to him, I used the word “God.”
His eyes lit up and he moved closer. “God isn’t supernatural; God is natural. He is everything.”
“Oh yes! It’s everything!” I grinned, feeling joy moving into all my internal organs.
The man went on to tell me that he too, had had an out of body experience. “The Holy Spirit came to me as I lay dying in a hospital bed.”
“How did you know it was the Holy Spirit?” I asked him. “Did you see it?”
He gestured an arc around himself. “No, I felt it all around me.”
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Concert Review—Chickenfoot at the Fillmore in Denver, Colorado
September 11, 2009
I am a writer. And when one is striving to maintain professionalism, it is one’s duty to present an unbiased account of the subject matter, is it not?
I tried. I really tried, but I just couldn’t do it. I was swept “Down the Drain” and it was so, so fine…
I first saw Chickenfoot perform at the Fillmore in San Francisco on May 17, 2009. It was their third live performance as a band; their debut CD had not yet been released. That show blew me away.
The Denver show topped it.
Chickenfoot was tighter than ever. And they delivered the kind of rock music that's timeless and unforgettable.
The thing that continually amazes me about this band is that none of them upstages the others. They are all top-notch musicians in their own rites but they complement one another beautifully and it seems so effortless.
That evening, I had a backstage tour ticket. Our group was escorted into the venue to watch Davy Knowles and Back Door Slam, the band who would be opening for Chickenfoot, do their soundcheck. Davy is only 22 years old, but he has the soul of an old blues man. His music is in the same vein as that of Jonny Lang. Rock and the blues will never die as long as there are talented people like Davy keeping the soul alive.
We were then escorted into Chickenfoot’s dressing area, a room a little larger than a closet, where all the trunks of clothes stood open and waiting for the band. I think Sammy’s trunk had more shoes than shirts! Michael Anthony’s still had the “VH” logo on it from his Van Halen days.
We were then taken to the hospitality room where the band hangs out before the show. There was a small drum set for Chad Smith, guitars, amps and equipment for Joe Satriani and Mikey, including Mikey’s signature Jack Daniel’s bass with two small shooters of JD stuck in it, a portable wine trunk stocked with about two cases of wine for Sammy, and platters of fruit, sweets and snacks. And of course, Sammy’s bottle of Cabo Wabo tequila was chilling in the refrigerator.