Lipstick on the Mic: Christine Lavin

Kind of looking like Grace Slick

She's the darling of the folk music scene, the voice of an angel but the sense of humor of one of the guys on the docks. Christine Lavin has been writing and performing for 50 years, since she was discovered at an open mike night while waitressing in Saratoga Springs. The guy who discovered her, Dave Van Ronk, is a legend in his own right: House of the Rising Sun? He arranged that. 

What sets her apart is her sassy songwriting that could be touching in one song, and bawdy the next. 

What a thrill to spend an afternoon with her. 

I first saw her at the Women's Literary Club in Grand Rapids 30 years ago. She was riding high on an indie hit single, The Kind of Love You Never Recover From, and getting a couple of songs on some movie soundtracks. My roommate Kathy met her in the bathroom, and helped her with her hair. 

Flash forward, I happened upon a social media post that she would be playing a Lutheran church in East Lansing in February. It was a rare Sunday that I had nothing going on, and she would be playing in daylight instead of some dim, smoky nightclub. I had to go. 

In another astonishing bit of luck, she welcomed fans to a meet and greet before the show to knit and converse. She had prizes for people! Not a knitter, I grabbed a figure skating dress to stone while listening to stories. 

She gave away a CD to the person with the biggest project, a huge knitted afghan. Then another for the newest project, which went to the person who had just started a project with a grand total of eight stitches completed. The last prize went to the person who had worked on their project the longest, an eight-year project that had been started and stopped many times. 

While looking for the glue and stones for my skating dress, I happened to have found an old USFSA keychain for the premiere of the documentary Rise, about the 1961 World team plane crash. Christine is a huge figure skating fan, so I impulsively brought it along if I had the chance to talk to her. 

After she gave her CDs away, I said "Wait, I have a gift for you." I wanted to give her something as a thank you for writing the song As Close to Flying, which she had dedicated to the lost World team. She gasped, immediately added it to her keychain, and said I have to give you something for this. I weakly refused, saying that was not my intention to gift grub. She gifted me The Subway Series CD, and told the assembled that I was a figure skater, and how she had written three songs about skating. 

Oh my gosh, to connect with her like that! 

On with the show about Jeopardy, bad boyfriends, crackerjack vendors, and new-aged guys

She started her set at 3pm, a story about how her parents met on the subway ("put down your phones"), and proceeded to entertain us with stories, anecdotes, songs, and plenty of audience interaction. Highlights for me were The Kind of Love You Never Recover From (RIP to the inspiration, a man who passed away in 2013, noting she had dreamt about him the night prior), the revenge story against the New York Yankees and the unfortunate incident of the crackerjack vendor, and the group singalong Sensitive New Aged Guys. She ended the show with a gentle singalong, accompanied by vocals recorded by a folk artist who recently passed, performing the song "(All I Have to Do) Is Dream" by the Everly Brothers.

But a Lavin show can't end until she trots out her batons, which she did with a flourish. 

After the show, she approached ME and asked if I'd like her to sign the CD she gave me. Well, I bought another one! She paused, and said, "Wait! I have something else for you!" and disappeared into her private room. The ladies gathering for autographs looked at me wide-eyed. She came out with a small ball of yarn, unraveled it, cut a yard, gave it to me, and asked if I would add a few sequins from her to my skating dress so she was out there with me. 

Of course I will!

Cool chick, and as Jeff Daniels says "What an original!"

The Fifth Monkee, Henry Corden

The landlord is unamused. 

On a television show featuring four young musicians, someone had to play the heavy, a grown-up authority figure. Henry Corden, as landlord Mr. Babbit, fit the bill. He was always chasing the rent while the boys chased gigs, and he even chased Micky in drag, in an attempt to woo the drummer masquerading as a chaperone so the boys could invite Davy's young girlfriend to a party. 

Corden had a long career on television, getting his start in Danny Kaye's The Secret Life of Walter Mitty - a personal favorite short story of mine - to being the voice of Fred Flintstone. Reviewing his entry on IMDb, his early career was a fascinating trip through history: Abbott and Costello. The Ten Commandments. Perry Mason. Dragnet. Bonanza. Gunsmoke. I Dream of Jeannie - he was Jeannie's dad! The latter part of his career was focused on voiceovers and children's programming.

Corden passed in 2005, but, according to a quote on IMDb, of all his roles, being a husband and a father was his favorite. 

Typing Out Loud: Finding Community

Daisy Buchanan has nothing on me. 

The fundraiser for our school district's athletic teams was held this past weekend. Our contribution to the festivities was donating a popcorn basket with a family fun 4-pack courtesy of the Whitecaps and a $50 gift card to the shop on behalf of boys' baseball.  

It's a new event and a new crowd, so I experienced a little social anxiety over being strangers in a room of people who have known each other for decades. 

Instead, we were welcomed warmly. 

The theme for the party was Roaring 20s, but since it was cold and breezy, I did not dress for the occasion. One of the gals at our table remedied this by gifting me a headband to match my outfit. And always convinced I was not welcome or invisible, instead, I was greeted with smiles and people who said, "I've seen you around!"

It was a welcome change. 

Project 3867: The Milk & Bread Store

Just the basics ma'am

When I was a kid, there was a drive-thru party store in Michigan Center. It was a novelty to drive in, point to what you wanted, and have the clerk hand you a candy bar and a pop. Moms and dads would pop the trunk and the beer would go right in. 

Drive-thru party stores are still big in Ohio, and Dave goes to one whenever he can. 

So why not here? The closest grocery stores are on Alpine - Walmart, Aldi, and Meijer - and frankly, it's a pain in the ass that you can't just do a quick run-in to get essentials. The gas stations charge outrageous prices for those quick convenience items. Cap 'n' Cork, the liquor store over by Mad Dogz, doesn't carry much outside of booze, snacks, and smoking paraphernalia. 

With those two bays, I could close one and open the other as a drive-thru to pick up the stuff you forgot you needed before going home. With a relatively small store, keep in stock maybe the top 25 convenience store items such as milk, bread, cereal, eggs, baby formula, and butter; grab-and-go snacks like chips and candy; and random stuff you always forget while shopping like batteries. Opting to not have liquor since CnC is across the street. Keep it clean and efficient. Add order ahead like doordash to have things ready for pickup. 

Not sure if this is the best business model; it's based more on nostalgia, novelty, and laziness on my part. But with the bay and the back parking lot available to create a drive-thru, the space is conducive to this idea. And you can phase out what doesn't sell and phase in what is requested. 

The Cereal Project: Product

"It's got to be healthy!" 

::Adds candied fruit::

Now that we've established the audience as GenXers - consumers between the ages of 45 and 60 - what product would appeal to them/us?

Has to be healthy yet sweet without extra added sugar. 

It's got to be colorful - we grew up on neon Trix and bright marshmallow Lucky Charms. 

It's got to be flavorful. 

It's got to be versatile. We learned to eat on the go, so the cereal has to be good in a bowl, by the handful, as a breakfast bar, or mixed in with yogurt.

How about puffed rice in the shape of an X, a multi-grain O, dried mixed fruit like banana chips, strawberries, and blueberries, slivered almonds, and mini chocolate chips?

We'll call it Xs and Ohs! 

Next up: the tie-in. 

Typing Out Loud: Thoughts on the Super Bowl Halftime Show

She's gorgeous

This is a true typing out loud: This entry is messy and disjointed. I'm not sure I'm making any of the right points, but maybe I'm getting there. 

My New Year's resolution for 2025 has been to keep a diary of daily occurrences when I have learned something new. I'm keeping it in a purple notebook covered in stickers and the way I'm filling it, I will need a new notebook by the end of April. My 2/10/25 entry is timely and going in all sorts of directions; I need to type it out to figure it out. 

White middle-aged lady alert! It started with me learning what a crip walk is. 

A crip walk, known as the c-walk is a dance move created in the 70s by first-generation gang members. It was intended to be a method of communication among members, but as it has gone worldwide, it's lost the linguistic aspects. 

The dance involves the movement of the feet to spell C-R-I-P to show gang affiliation. To date, the only reference I have is tennis star Serena Williams doing it twice - first at the Olympic Games after winning her gold 12 years back, and again at the Super Bowl. 

People are outraged at her because one of her sisters was murdered by a crip and also for bringing "ghetto" to a general audience. 

I don't know, by doing this, maybe Serena is reclaiming her sister's dignity, kind of how the black community reclaimed the n-word as a term of affection? It is often noted the word is offensive from white mouths, not black. I get it. 

Also, it appears the rapper Drake's popularity is a sore point in the black community and Kendrick Lamar used the greatest tennis player ever - she is also Drake's ex-gf - to publicly dismiss him. 

Many in the black community are saying whites don't get it and that's the point. They are tired of being sanitized entertainment, palatable for our society. They don't want to stay in their lane. With Kamala, they were ready to take the reins. They will call out injustice and wrong-doing, even if it's one of their own in Drake. 

I'm still trying to unpack everything about the halftime show, but I feel like it was also a message that the black community is calling out those who voted for Trump - it's time for the revolution, but you picked the wrong guy. 

There is also Kendrick Lamar's pleas to "turn off the TV." Don't fill your head with other's notions, and if I have to use a GenX reference for connection, as En Vogue said, "free your mind." 

I'm still thinking about this days later. I'm turning the performance around in my head like a large crystal to see all the facets. 

So who is the white people Drake? Justin Timberlake. His crimes against society? 

Slut-shaming Britney Spears. Result? She got a conservatorship, he got a solo record deal and collaborated with Madonna. 

Exposed Janet Jackson on live TV at yet another Super Bowl, 20 years ago. She suffered the consequences in her career; he got movie deals. 

He abandoned his band N'Sync and appropriated R&B sound. He got a #1 album. 

He got a DUI and canceled his world tour. He's planning his redemption tour. 

The public forgave him.

I should have seen Trump's re-election a mile away - the general public loves a mediocre white bad boy. 

In the court of public opinion, Kendrick Lamar - thug, worst halftime show ever. Trump - cowboy, a rebel! 

Mind blown. 

This led to me musing about the consistent outrage over Kanye lately. He is currently being lambasted for his online web store this week, which sold one thing and one thing only - a white t-shirt with a swastika. 

He is also under fire for parading his white wife in public wearing see-through clothing. 

He is being called a misogynist, racist, and worse. 

Is he those things or is this one big performance piece? Is Kayne calling out white America, who can get away with our systematic racism with a wink, but when a black man does it, he is vilified? By parading his white wife around in this manner of undress, is he saying our emperor has no clothes? 

Whoa. 

Lipstick on the Mic: Girlschool

They deserved more from us

I discovered Girlschool back in those early MTV days where the station would play any clip they could get their hands on. The two they played to my rapturous attention were Race With the Devil and Hit and Run. 

The band formed in 1978, originally called Painted Lady and their sound was a mix of punk, hard rock, and metal. They reformed under the name Girlschool, inspired by the B side of Paul McCartney’s Mull of Kintyre single. Their big break came when Lemmy from Motörhead heard the song Take It All Away and asked the band to be the opening act on tour in 1979.

The band became part of the British metal movement in the early 80s, which included Judas Priest, Saxon, and Def Leppard, which led to tours with Black Sabbath and Rush in the UK and Canada. 

But what about America?

In the mid-80s, their label pushed the band to be more like Heart, AOR pop rock with more feminine, fantastical outfits to appeal to us stateside.  Cute but tough Kelly Johnson, already exhausted from four years of nonstop touring and image polishing, thought enough was enough and quit. 

Girlschool never really achieved widespread success in the US after their initial splash. Johnson died of cancer in the early 2000s. Yet, the band presses on as a festival favorite in Europe while maintaining their musical integrity, as Creem noted in 1982: “They don’t pimp their gender” by relying on sex appeal as a gimmick.

Cute story early in our relationship: I had been searching for the album Hit and Run for years. Dave, eager to show off his musical prowess, assured me he would find it. 

I dared to doubt him. 

He brought me to Grand Rapids on a road trip date, and we went to Vinyl Solution, where he found a British import copy for $3. If he had asked me to marry him on the spot, I would have. Instead, I allowed him to buy it for me, then we went to Classic Stereo. This particular date is so him.