I hate microsoft and other things

why is it I feel that when I am using microsoft, they are in fact using me! Why do I feel that my laptop belongs to them and they certainly didn't give it to me for free.
Why do they change my English English to American English, when I am writing English English because that's what I want to do!
I have just spent about 20 minutes trying to respond to my lovely friend Franca's recent blog on eye contact, only to have it deleted 6 times before I gave up and just wrote a plain old "great blog" message.
Franca writes about eye contact and I can't remember the Italian phrase, however, I agree with her. You can understand another person much better eye to eye, whether they are bullshitting you (lot of that in the music biz), just plain lying, or trying to get something from you, or they are just (preferable) a lovely person.
On the other hand, you could also, as I did, find yourself turning around and coming face to face with Paul Newman standing in line to get his car back and go completely ga ga at those oh so very beautiful eyes
She also wrote about Il Postino and Massimo Troisi. The film, along with Mediterraneo are among my most favourite films ever. I did not know that Massimo was also a comedian, and have to wonder whether Eddie Izzard is too. Franca wrote about Massimo talking with God and reminded me of Eddie doing the same - doling out methods of procreation for animals, the giraffe is really funny, calling his son jeezey creezy and annoying him, all in a James Mason voice.
Wonderful blog Franca, even if I couldn't write a lot of the above and get the comment successfully posted. After 20 minutes of trying, even my tenacity failed me! Love you

How does one let go of the past

when it won't let you go?
Post traumatic stress disorder is a pretty tough condition to deal with, and I cannot imagine how much more difficult it must be for soldiers, who have experienced the horror of war.
I find that I have no clue what will trigger mine. I know that smoking pot helps stop the fragmentation of my mind, which I can only describe as viewing a kaleidescope of broken chards of glass.
2011 was (with the exception of the years my Dad died, my lovely Aunt Tricia died and my beautiful cousin, Stewart died) the worst year. Even worse than working for Jack Craigo and being cheated by Chrysalis, a company I gave my loyalty to and turned down many job offers to stay with them. This included an invitation by Joe Smith to start the publishing companies for Electra/Ayslum/Nonesuch and I still feel a complete idiot for not taking that job. So much pain would have been avoided. My trust in people I looked up to, broken
In spite of all that one of my brothers has done to me; because again I was an idiot and came back to Los Angeles to help him keep his two daughters (lost all of my money and 90% of my furniture); I sent him an email asking for peace between us, but no response.
How does one let go of that hurt, when that brother has been with me all of my life and we used to have so much fun together as children, just discards me?
Franca Cavaricci (someone I met through managing the most difficult artist I encountered in over 30 years in the music business!) has helped me tremendously and made me laugh as we share our problems. She is an inspiration.
Cindy is another such woman friend. Anyone listening to us share our various illnesses and trials and tribulations, laughing hard all the way through, would probably think us fit for a sanitorium.
So many what ifs in my life. I hope that there is a parrallel world (love Stephen King and his Towers series), in which I am once again the smiling child who ran through the green fields of my mother's birth place, Liscarroll in County Cork.
May we all have a happy New Year and a much better 2011, especially for those people, who have lost their homes, their jobs, families living in a motel rooms, and the estimated 54% who survive on food stamps. May we not lose anymore people whose lives were in such despair, they could not go on living.
As we go forward into 2011:
may President Obama succeed (and be allowed to) in changing the corruption perpetrated by the previous government and that has penetrated throughout the country. May he change America back to the country I first moved to, where although I was a bit confused that an actor could become President, we had some equality.
May the 10% of the people who own 90% of the wealth in the world become more charitible and think of others. May Warren Buffet and Bill Gates with their inspiring desire to share their wealth and help the needy, turn towards this country as well as America (although I do not know whether this is true as I have only heard this). May others join them.
May people like Angelina Jolie and Bradd Pitt continue their efforts to make a difference not only in foreign countries, however, as they did in New Orleans.
May we never ever again see people crowded into a stadium in awful conditions, because an ineffective government could not do their appointed jobs and allowed such awful suffering.
May women at last have more meaningful roles in government, may there be more of the and may we leave behind the absolutely ridiculous notion that women are not equal to men. May we have women leaders like Golda Meir, and not like Maggies Thatcher. May women learn that they do not have to do things the way men have, however, use their difference to make a difference.

Remembering friends with thanks

The music business is not a business I should like to be a part of anymore, however, so many great memories. And some dark moments too.
However, FB has me back in touch with people I really enjoyed and respected, Nigel Grainge and Chris Hill are just two. When they had their company together and I would occasionally have lunch with them, they added more to my grin lines in an hour - almost as good as Eddie Izzard.
Franca Cavarricci has kept me going through a tough year and it's so great to have her friendship. She'll phone me in the morning and I shall be laughing within seconds.
I've been able to let one friend have a copy of his vinyl album, as he never kept one.
Billy Bass, an inspiring co worker and the first friend to buy one of my giclees of Tea with Klee, really encouraging me, as he is the master of taste.
Susan Whittred, who I am so proud of for changing her career completely, getting into Cornell Uni and becoming a veteranarian (think that's correct!) and enjoying her life.
The beautiful Lydia Sarno, irrepressible Vicki Giordano, Linda Carhart, who did such an amazing job organizing two Chrysalis reunions East Coast and West Coast.
Eve Lenton of Belle Epoque, Black is Black and her gorgeous brother, Albert.
Tiffany Lowe who I first met as a 3 year old and who has two of the most gorgeous children, Luna and Lux.
Life is a little more than tough for me at the moment for too many reasons to share, however, I know I have friends who have known me for so long, and their continued friendship and respect for me, outweighs the darker side of family relationships, which have just hurt me deeply.

What do you do when your heart is breaking

and you can see no end in sight to the sadness that has haunted you throughout your life?
Suicide causes so much pain, yet I do not blame my mother. I know how close I have come myself to just give up and not try to get through another day, because I cannot see a future that makes any sense to me.
What do you do when you are just surrounded by the debris of bits of your life that did exist, reminding you of feats that you achieved, people you somehow managed to help, just because you could. Clothes you could wear before you just gave up caring how you looked. Because what is the point.
You plough through bits of paper that you kept for a reason and you look at them and even though it's been a while since you have, you still see that there's valuable information you could use sometime in the future. So yet again you don't throw that bit away.
But then you can't see a future, you can't even imagine a future and sadly you no longer know how to imagine a future anymore

If you had advised me that it was not a good idea

to give up the offer of a job of running a UK publishing company, and return to Los Angeles to help a brother and his two daughters through a truly awful custody battle with a sociopath, I would not have taken it.
Family had always meant a lot to me, I suppose because I just didn't have a "normal" one.
Now, I am the one who is broken and there's no one to help me at all. In fact it would appear that I have become the pariah of the family.
Sad, and finding it hard to start again.
61 is a hard age to realise that all that you've stood for, justice and fair treatment brings you to a point of desperation.
Depression is not understood. Neither is ptsd or panic disorder. A fact that I realise must be common to so many people suffering with the same serious illness.
So you put one step in front of the other, and hope.

The Cranberries, Ray Parker Jr and acts we missed out on

Exchanging comments with Stephen Foster about the Memphis Sound this morning and I got into how some musicians are just so brilliant and so love what they play, that you are drawn into them. And I then to thinking about drummers, in particular Steve Ferrone (was quite happy just listening to him play anything at sound check, as it took hours for the producer to get the sound he particularly wanted) and Anton Fig, who tie as best drummers in my history and then to Fergal Lawley of The Cranberries. From there I found myself wondering how many acts different staff at different companies, would love to have signed and did their upmost to get the "powers that be" to agree with them, yet failed.
I think I'll start with the famous Ray Parker Jr story, when I was still at Chrysalis.
Ray (and his drummer Ollie Brown who both played for Stevie Wonderand goodness knows how many albums, Ray played guitar on. He once commented that he couldn't remember, there were so many) and I became friends through JD Nicholas, who I'd signed as a write to Chrysalis Music Ltd, so wanted to sign to Chrysalis, but no go at Chrysalis, we hadn't yet accepted that r & b could be pop and would go mainstream.
Ray may be African American (and at Chrysalis we hadn't had much luck with a band called Lynx, I think), however, his music is pop and he has one of the sexiest voices, as well as being a great guitarist and songwriter (he told me once he wrote a lot of his songs from listening to women), and he wanted to be with Chrysalis. I tried my hardest, but no, no go, too black for the label. How ridiculous. Anyway, Ray's next album which we passed on contained "Ghostbusters", so how stupid can some A & R decision makers be! Plus, I then had to put up with a lot of teasing as everyone at Chrysalis knew Ray was my friend and the so called close resemblance of "Ghostbuster" to "I Want New Drug". I just kept playing "Pop Music"(signed by another legend of the business, Seymour Stein, and he also signed Madonna - who we also passed on at Chrysalis) and still think that the only similarity is the bass riff.
I can think of one A & R guy I worked with at Imago (he completed reimaged himself to look like TCE), who didn't even know who Tom Dowd is. How can you be in A & R and not know one of the finest producers ever?!!!
Chrysalis turned down The Squeeze, a great rock band with fantastic songwriting, whose early pub/small club performances I haunted. And the irony of not only passing on still one of the best rock bands, but the opportunity to get The Police thrown in too.
Dire Straits were another they just couldn't get, although Chris Briggs and I did our best to convince the powers that were, to sign the band.
TCE once phoned me a year after sending him a cassette of a band, Minor Detail, whose manage couldn't get a meeting with the UK company, but could see me. That led to a visit to see the band by the UK A & R, often nicknamed um and r.
Anyway, I had no clue what to say to a boss who had just listened to a cassette I'd sent him a year previously! I plucked up courage and called him and said that they'd signed to Polygram a year ago. Well, he responded, what about their publishing?!!! Sadly, the band's unique vocal quality was a&r'd out of their debut album, and they did nothing.
But the Cranberries, have to be one of the worst lack of foresight by a label head. At Imago, Michael Murphy (often wonder where he is) originally heard of the band and then involved Lauren Bromley (from One Little Indian, another great small label and I often wonder where she and Eric - who also worked for Imago - are too) and then me, then Kate. We traveled to Ireland to see them perform so many times. And eventually managed to get TCE to agree to fly them over to London for him to see them perform at a club in the UK. He just couldn't get it. Thought that the songwriting was brilliant, but that Dolores wasn't a star! How he could miss her unique frail quality, and that she was surrounded by light is beyond me. But she wasn't flashy and coming from a small Irish town didn't dress like Madonna. I found myself reminiscing how when I watched them, I also frequently found myself mesmerized by Fergal's drumming, he so loved playing them and that was obvious.
Fortunately, they signed with Denny Cordell, who to me was a legendary record man (Shelter Records - Leon Russell, Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers) and also one who treated women equally. As Imago didn't really function that well, to say the least!
And I'll end with what I still find a funny anecdote. Certain of the Imago A & R staff and I were flying into Dublin to see The Devlins perform. But fog descended, and we were informed that we would probably get diverted to Shannon. Now the man, who sat next to me on the plane happened to buy and sell airplanes and as is my habit, I got talking with him. Learning of our dilemna, he offered to fly us in his private jet at Shannon to get to Dublin, but that still wouldn't get us to the show in time. Well, he "knew people in places", and I saw him disappear into the captain's cabin and the next announcement was that the pilot was going to seek a hole in the fog to try and land at Dublin. First and only time I've ever heard the air staff announce precise safety instructions for a landing. (Fortunately, I am not afraid of flying, once you're in a plane, you're no longer in control and that's just that!). Well we landed, with great sighs of relief from many passengers to an almost empty Dublin airport and made the Devlins' show, joined by the airplane seller and buyer. Us, Imago A& R didn't manage to sign them to Imago either! Ina Meibach was their lawyer, and she's an excellent one, and all for the artist and not the politics of being a lawyer in the music business as quite a few are. Don Passman is another, whose only concern is what's best for his client, not his relationship with labels.
Enough of could haves, didn't do, failed to and I'll end with Chrysalis US passing on The Knack with "My Sharona"!

Growing up in Nottinghill Gate

I was 5 and my brother, 4 when our mother died, and Dad took us to live with his mother (originally from Bermondsey) at no 8 Aubrey Walk, Nottinghill Gate, W8 sometime early in 195

My grandfather worked for the British water board situated at the corner of Aubrey Walk nearly at the junction with Campden Hill Road. The water board, had a tower (since knocked down, but for a while also used as an antena for radio) and was fascinating for David and I to occasionally visit, where my grandfather managed the huge diesel fuelled engines (which we believe led to his lung cancer) that powered the water distribution. Behind this was a large grass covered undeground reservoir. This, David and I frequently managed to get onto (although forbidden to) by climbing up over what was at one time a chicken coop, over a 12' tall wall to get on to the reservoir and play. Dad would also use this shortcut to get to the tennis club.

The waterboard owned a small row of terrace houses including no 8. There was only a toilet, no bathroom. 3 bedrooms. A sitting room, no one ventured into unless there was a special occasion. a common room (can't think what this would have been called) with a fireplace which was lit daily from November through April. Then coal fires stopped regardless of how cold it still was. Next to this was the kitchen where we all ate, and a pantry in which David and I would have our toys and play.

My grandfather would use the shower at the waterboard and my grandmother who did housework for the Tennants who lived opposite in a 4 storey house adjacent to a two story house and would use their bathroom once a week.

David and I would have a bath each Saturday in a tin bath in front of the fire when it was winter.

Bed sheets were changed every week. Mattresses were made of feathers and required a lot of shaking to rearrange the feathers from sleeping in them all week.

My grandparents had the front bedroom, I shared the other front bedroom with my Aunt Jacqueline, and David and Dad shared the back bedroom.

Because David was not yet of school age, he was sent to live with our Irish grandmother for about 18 months shortly after the marriage of Tricia and Bill.

I went to Fox's infant school and then to the adjacent St. Georges Junior School. It was not a long walk down Aubrey Walk, across Campden Hill Road on to Kensington Park Road, where the two schools were situated close to the end of that road.

Adjacent to this small terrace of three houses, was the Campden Hill Tennis Club.

There was/is a beautiful old church (situated about a third of the street from Hillsleigh Road, where my Aunt Jacqueline and Uncle Doug were married when I was about 9, and Dad (who had by now remarried - June 1 we refer to her as, who had two children of her own, Debbie (3) and Stephen (4). David, Dad and I joined this family and left to live in a council house in Stonebridge Park. Quite a different area than Notting Hill Gate! I had what was called a "posh" accent developed from listening to all the similar "posh" accents around me.

In 1953, my Aunt Tricia and Uncle Bill married only about 4 days after my mother died. Weddings for poor people could not be postponed because of the cost. Aunt Jacqueline and I were bridesmaids. I remember that the reception was in a hall with a gallery, which all the children had fun running up the stairs and around and down again. By the end of the evening my long blue net dress had a very tattered hem!

It was a relatively happy 3-4 years for David and me, although Nan Munday was pretty strict and firmly believed that children should be seen and not heard. We were pretty fortunate with holidays as we would generally go to the Isle of Wight for a week and then David and I would go to Liscaroll, County Cork, where our Irish grandparents lived.

David and I used to come home from school for lunch, which was the same menu each day of the week, ending on Friday with fish, because our mother had been Roman Catholic.

Dad would generally take us alternate Sundays to a Roman Catholic church and a Church of England one.

A car accident

My car accident of September 9, 2008 was finally settled in mediation in September 2010 - a long time - yes, a very, very long time. And I was forced into mediation or faced the alternative of having to wait until 2011 to go to court,because the complaint was not filed until February 2010 rather than before the end of 2009, as I had been advised it would be. And I needed so badly for the entire accident to be behind me (which of course it had been!), that I agreed.
I had never had a car accident before (except for minor dings I caused myself - gate posts moving, street lights, that sort of thing!) and it completely altered my life for quite a while. I stopped driving for about 9 months.
I was simply waiting at a traffic light on Beverly and Curson (LA), one car in front of me. Fortunately, I always leave a distance between the one in front and me, so did not hit that.
I remember it as a huge impact (it was a Continental Navigator and I don't know how many tons they weigh) and I had no idea what had happened. Perhaps the world had fallen down.
Because I was looking in the direction of the light, I saw my boyfriend's hands end up on the glove compartment. My beloved dog lying in the back was thrown forward. And of course, because I was looking to my right, my body was thrown backwards and forwards in a small area behind the wheel. Hence over 2 years later, I still suffer daily pain from whiplash in the right side of my neck and my right shoulder and upper arm. Sometimes my brachial plexus plays up, and nerve ending pain is not something I enjoy!
I got out of my car, a volvo station wagon and the entire rear end was smashed in.
A very beautiful young woman was coming towards me on the phone and I asked her if she was ok. She said she was fine.
As an aside there, was also the very rude man who stopped as he was driving past and yelled at us to get out of the road. I did not mince words with him, just assertively suggested he get on his way, which he could do because he wasn't behind us, however, alongside us, hence blocking traffic behind him! Glad that I am not married to him, that's for sure!
It is not the habit of British people to think of lawyers when they have accidents, however, Farmers Insurance (who insure both parties) acted swiftly.
I received a call the next morning. I gave as best account of what happened as one can do, given the shock. Was I okay? Yes, I answered. A British understatement.
An evaluator came to see the volvo, talked about it being a right off and maybe I'd get about $100. My insurance agent was not optimistic either.
Gradually as shock wore off, the pain in my body increased and I did what I never thought I would ever have to do, I called a lawyer friend and he recommended someone expert at dealing with car accidents. A different breed of lawyers to the ones I frequently negotiated with when I was running Chrysalis Music and managing artists.
Went to the ortho doc my lawyer suggested. A cold man. He agreed that I should see my chiropractor, who at that stage I hadn't seen in over 2 1/2 years, since he was able to correct the problem with my pelvis. I often felt that I had no control over the process whatsoever.
Within a few weeks I was in constant daily pain, sometimes so bad that I simply had to go to sleep to get away from it.
I was afraid to drive. Something I never expected, although there had been times in my low Honda Prelude being on freeways with crazy suv drivers, when I felt vulnerable.
Altogether I had about six weeks of chiropractic work and massage, interrupted by a stomach virus. This came back to haunt me, as to why there were gaps in my treatment - I don't know of anyone who would visit a chiropractor to be adjusted while suffering from a stomach virus, but perhaps there are such people - who knows.
Other pain started and I found that my sciatic nerve (I thought I'd pulled a muscle in my butt, until I saw my GP for a general check up and looked at the large poster of a skeleton), so back to the orth doc, who sent me for mri's.
More delay ensued, as he telephoned me with the results of the mri and without mincing words informed me I had a brain tumor. I politely said thank you and just sat there for an evening wondering. And who calls a patient and tells them that they have a brain tumor over the phone? Made an appointment with Cedars-Sinai.
I thought that being totally blameless in the accident, since sitting stopped at a red light is what you're supposed to be doing and there would be an easy settlement!
But Farmers Insurance are not a good company (web sites dedicated to suits against them - they also own All State and 21st Century and a class action suit for discimination against Mormons)and they argued that all of the pain I was experiencing was because of my age! Well I was 59 when the accident happened, could play tennis, lift things with ease, dry my hair without pain and work out, and wow - suddenly age had caught up with me????
Now I paint with a neck brace, and also when using the computer, or lifting things, otherwise the pain reaches the unbearable level pretty quickly.
My life to that point had not been easy because of my mental challenges, but I was finally getting my life back together. I felt free to move ahead and do what I really wanted to do at school (evil stepmother comes in here, but no description) and that was paint. I was no longer able to work in an office around people, because ptsd, panic disorder and chronic depression makes it almost impossible to do so. I never know what will trigger ptsd, when my mind simply fragments and I feel as if I am looking through a kaleidescope of shards of glass.
The accident took all my progress to a better life away and I had to start again.
The small amount of money I shall receive because of Farmer's aggressive stance and the delay in filing a complaint, is pitiful. Although my lawyer is so pleased with the result they achieved, they've actually put it on whatever websites lawyers put such "achievements". I shall certainly never recommend them.
However, I am on the move forward again.
I intend to let Craig Ferguson and his wife know about the small amount I was supposed to have received by the end of October, although the end of October somehow seems to mean sometime the beginning of November to my lawyer. But then they frequently said one thing, which they later said they hadn't and anyone who knows me from working with me, will remember my ability to remember contracts provisions without having to look at one, what decision was made in a marketing meeting months before, etc.
I am not letting Craig and his wife, Megan know to get more money from them, but I would like them to know how shabbily Farmers Insurance treaed me.
So on to the art store to buy some matting board, and mounting board and then to the post office to mail some sold giclees to the UK.

Perhaps my luck is finally changing! And naivete

I am almost afraid to say this, as it's been a truly awful year! Each month something difficult (to say the least) has happened and I have ended that month, hoping the next one will be better, but no.

However the end of this month is turning out okay. Doesn't totally make up for the car accidents (3 - someone smashing past me down a side street and breaking my driver's side wing mirror, reversing into someone I think was driving too fast through a USPS drive through car park, and scraping the side of my pickup while trying to get out of a tiny spot, I probably shouldn't have attempted to get into in the first place, due to two large expensive cars taking up more that 2 adjacent parking spaces!), getting locked out twice, costing me $150, which is more than the $130 I received for the few CDs, Freak Beat Record bought, but retained the three boxes containing over 700 CDs, and not suggesting to me that I could sell them to another Amazon or internet seller, but doing so themselves, thereby immediately making up the small sum they paid me.

It is ridiculous that at my age I am still naive about people in the music business.

Learning that the check I should have received after the mediation by the end of October, will be held by my lawyer (more about her another blog) until sometime next week. Which, to the best of my knowledge is not the end of October! Guess they'll keep the interest!

However, my opinion of Amoeba has gone up, after meeting Jim and Fred, both of whom were really pleasant. Jim (their expert on RIAA awarded discs - I am almost tempted to get copies of all of the ones I should have received - Huey Lewis, other Blondie, etc) was pleased to pay me a fair price for my four platinum discs and a few albums I left out of selling to Freak Beat, because they'd only give me a $1 each for them.

Having tea with a good friend, who is Chairman of the PRS, who has bought a Tea with Klee giclee (he'll hang in his office there), driving back home praying all the way that I would make it to the gas station. I did just! My engine stopped, literally as I crossed their entrance.

Selling two Tea with Klee giclees to the boss, who was my best mentor, Bob Wise of Music Sales - treated me as a woman, an equal, and one with intelligence.

One to a great, but now retired artist manager, John Woodruff and his wife Christine, who became really good friends and got me an invitation to the most prestigeous 3M boat in the Sydney Harbour on Dec31 '84/Jan 1 '85) during my 3 week stay in Australia after I resigned from Chrysalis.
I was asked to stay on for a few months as (which they did not tell me, otherwise I may not have resigned since all senior staff received shares since they then went public) because of Terry Ellis selling his share of Chrysalis to his co-founder, Chris Wright and my loyalty to the company. They needed me to stay on to show that they had a top woman executive, because they wanted not to lose another top executive with TCE leaving, and also because I was really the only top woman exec that the company employed and they needed to show they were "equal op employers" (which they were not) for the British share offering. It's amazing how naive I have been in respect of certain people, for someone so good at business and negotiating!

Friends and letting go of family

It's been a tough year and each month something has happened, and October was the final straw (1 car accident my first ever that is my fault in 43 years of driving - well aside from the dings I caused myself, the loss of a friendship that I valued and trusted - I am reminded that a therapist once told me that you can only judge when to trust a person at the time you need to trust them - not helped by Freak Beat Records, to whom I sold my CDs and [who I shall never recommend], having found that Amazon selling had taken over my life), locked out twice, another car ding, banned from selling on Amazon for life [not a huge loss, I only had two CDs listed on there still]), so I am looking forward to 2011, although still hoping for a good month this year. And hoping the friend, Marv who reminded me of the Mayan prediction that 2011 will be the end of the world, is wrong.
I have come to the sad realization that only my friends really know me and perhaps that is the same for many families.
I have after all spent over half my life in the US. No I am not yet a citizen, however, am starting the process.
I am experiencing deep grief through recent goings-on with my immediate family, as well as still, the loss of my beloved dog, Anita.
I gave so much in terms of money, furniture, time and jobs to help one.
I don't blame that person for not remembering. They have gone through enough health crisises and a painfilled marriage. But I have lost the only person who has been in my life since their birth, and I cannot believe what they have done and said.
But the pain I feel is so powerful, that it is almost overwhelming and even painting is not helping that much (and I am about to have to start cutting matts, which I hate doing!), when it usually stills my mind and the ptsd.
Whenever anything happens with a family member, I get thrown back in to the memory less childhood and adolesence, because the abuse and whether I saw my mother dead or not, is too much for my mind, so it has kindly given me a blank.
Yes, there are some good ones, and a few years until I was 9 where there are happy pictures, particularly of me running around the fields of Ireland with my brother and my second cousin and staying with my Irish grandmother, who was love personified and gave unconditional love.
I have realized that what I thought was a family, isn't one that I was ever really a part of. And that I have always been the odd one out.
So on November 4, I am finally going to address the family issue and learn how to just let go of it all.
Yet remain very grateful that I was able to help my beautiful nieces, Sami and Vanessa.
I would do it all again, just for them to finally be safe, which they are.
And for that I remain very grateful that I was given that particular opportunity.
And now I have to matt a giclee, Anita's Garden for the Stray Cat Alliance, and deliver it for their silent auction today.
Wish me good fortune with letting go.

Carlene Carter (Unbreakable Heart by Benmont Tench)

One Midem (Cannes gathering of the music business every January), I met Ed Tichner. Shortly after I moved to California to develop the Chrysalis publishing companies (until then administered, although had the great song seeker and song plugger, Marv Goodman), which had a variety of names, and I got fed up with listing them all, so named them The Chrysalis Music Group USA, a name still used today. And on a different tack for a minute, really annoyed Jack Craigo (my nemesis at Chrysalis and the reason I resigned after trying to work for somebody, who as another well known publisher, Mike Stewart, said - just didn't like people!) as he thought that it was a better name for the record company.

Anyway, back to Ed and the party that Chrysalis in threw in 1978 to announce my appointment and the development of the publishing companies, which became one of the leading independents and his mentioning a singer/songwriter he managed, Carlene.

Yes, I responded I'd love to meet her. And after listening to some demos she and I had our first meeting, a lunch at the then incredibly successful Le Dome, managed and owned by Michel and Eddie, who and their staff always treated me so well, even tho' for the first year of using my expense account there, I only ever tipped 10% (that being the norm in the UK).

My first impression was of a beautiful sensual woman, with a golden aura, and she has the most stunning eyes. No I am not gay. A golden girl.

We did not stop laughing throughout the lunch, and a friendship started that lasted until 2003, with a few breaks when we didn't see each other.

Anyway, I signed Carlene because I believed she was a star and because I loved her songwriting. No, I did not know of her incredible music heritage, until one of our lawyers putting the contract together asked me how I had managed to sign someone from a legendary family so soon after arriving in LA. I negotiated the deal, but Terry Ellis, being Terry Ellis wouldn't let me sign that one - he had to, even though he'd had nothing to do with me finding her. He could be so full of himself sometimes!

Her first album for Chrysalis was "Too Proud", which I still have a cassette of. Not a great record for her and did not showcase her well, however, contains some excellent songs.

I needed to find a new apartment, and Carlene heard of this and invited me to become her room mate at the (at one time) infamous 1580 Queens Road (probably the title to my autobiography, should I ever get around to writing it!) and I moved in. The day I did, she left to go on the road and before leaving, advised me not to be afraid of the ghost, he was friendly! This together with a member of my staff who kept phoning me my first night and warning me to call the police if I heard any noises. Oh, and if I heard something to tell the police that I had a gun. Why, I asked? Well, if the police know you have a gun they respond more quickly, which made absolutely no sense to me, as I thought they'd act quicker to someone in danger without any defence. Silly of me! And he added that if I ever did get a gun and shot a person, I was to drag them into the house. Odd conversation for me to have and I didn't get much sleep that first night.

That house was so easy to get into, and one of my boyfriends (a guy from the Chrysalis mailroom, David, very attractive and a great tennis player) delighted in getting in and coming up behind me and startling the beejeebers out of me!

Anyway, Carlene and I had only a few months living there together as she was engaged to Nick Lowe and had decided to move to the UK! Great, I've signed a songwriter who is now not going to live in the US.

However, the house was always full of so many musicians and I never knew who I was going to meet as I came out of my bedroom, or home from work. Xene was one and I still can't remember whether I met Viggo Mortenson, who she was married to. Will kick myself if I ever get to meet that gorgeous and talented man, Viggo Mortenson and find out that I did, but don't remember!

So, now Carlene was in the UK and married to Nick Lowe (I missed their wedding at the famous Motel on Santa Monica, as I had already drunk too much to get there!) and writing songs with his and other British music influences. Also some pretty raunchy lyrics and as I told her on one of her trips back to LA, I wasn't going to be able to get a cover with Anne Murray for instance!

But back to the times we shared in LA. Like visiting the Rainbow Room late at night for something to eat. One time, the poor guy (we'd already eaten and he hadn't yet) had his pizza purloined, and Carlene and I drove off along Sunset laughing at our theivery! We always laughed so much together.

And I loved to come home and find CC at her beautiful black piano, in our huge curved ceiling sitting room, which you stepped down into. It was to the side of a beautiful curved top large window.

Can't leave out the first time I met her lovely daughter, Tiffany. It was early morning and I was sitting drinking tea, trying to wake up slowly and this small beautiful child appeared, put her hand on my knee and told me the story of her life to that date (think she was about 3-4) and how she missed her brother, Jackson.

Nor can I miss out Carlene's effect on men! Ones that did, usually were left speechless, and I clearly remember going into a 7-11 and bumping into two managers, John Woodruff and Ray Hearn of Icehouse an Australian band (led by Iva Davies) we signed to Chrysalis. These two usually talkative (particularly John) were awed into nonsensical speech! And another, many years later in London looking for a deal for her, when we were visiting Chris Briggs at his office when he worked for A & M. He came back from lunch with one of the Police's engineer, Pete (and I cannot remember his last name), who was struck speechless altogether!

And I remember the time we travelled to New York together, via Chicago for some reason,] where she got off the plane with one of The Stones and I completed the next bit of the trip without her!

The first time meeting her parents!! Was at a dinner, in an Italian restaurant and other guests included Steve Martin. At this time I had moved to New York, and Johnny and June were in New York, Carlene had "C'est ci bon!" out on CBS (I won't mention Frank Deleo's behavior, but it was pretty not good and I'll say no more) and I was (while also being Senior VP of Chrysalis under the awful Craigo) managing her - needless to say I could not find any real evidence thatFrank did much promoting of the album.

After the dinner, Johnny wanted to meet this woman who was taking care of his daughter, and I was summoned to lunch! Trembling like a shy child, I turned up at an ice cream parlour on Central Park South. Johnny was truly a delight and so easy to be with. And I was approved of.

One Christmas (1983 I think), June was in town with Carlene and probably Tiffany and she heard that I had nowhere to go for Christmas, so she literally dragged me off at short notice to go to Nashville with them. We were late for the plane as we walked through a JFK terminal with so much baggage! Got on the plane late, and there was an announcement, "sorry for the delay, however, we had some late baggage to load". To which June responded, "see, there was no reason for rushing", not thinking that the luggage in question was ours!

What an amazing Christmas (except that Johnny was in hospital). They celebrated Christmas Eve and June arranged the seating. Told Rodney Crowell to sit next to me, which was immediately countermanded by Roseanne insisting he did not, but came next to her. Funny woman, and not one of my favorite people.

Not like Rosie, Carlene's beautiful half sister, who sadly died the same year as Carlene's long time partner, Howie Epstein, June and Johnny. She delighted me by showing me around the circular house (which I constantly got lost in, as it was not only circular but went down on different floors depending where you were!) and telling me of the time Prince Charles asked her out for lunch.

June was a great collector of four poster beds and the house was filled with them. Carlene and I shared this huge room with two of these, as well as racks of clothes. Think that was the first time I ever visited a Wal Mart, which is a store I never use because I don't appreciate their treatment of staff! Didn't know that at the time.

Remember going to visit Johnny (a bit reluctantly as I thought he probably had enough visitors without adding me) in hospital and saying hello, then moving to his side guest room. He popped in to get a cola out of the fridge, and I said you seem surrounded by women - he just sheepishly grinned and agreed.

Then there was the trip when Carlene moved back to Nashville to live in her grandmother, Maybelle Carter's house. What a lovely house and CC loved to ride around on the electric lawnmower. Would never let me have a go!!

Which brings me back in time to our trip to Jamaica, just after I left Chrysalis in 1985 and had only recently returned from a 3 week trip to Australia. We missed the flight! Not uncommon for CC, and sometimes me. Partly my fault, as Bill Aucoin and JP Bommel organized a leaving party for me (I was leaving New York) and that went on late into the night and I clearly remember John Waite phoning me at 6 am to apologize for not making the party, but there was someone there he didn't want to be around. Couldn't he have waited just a bit longer to tell me this!

Anyway, it was the days of white powder and CC had this enviable ability to sleep regardless, which she did promptly on boarding the plane. I, on the other side, spent the entire journey awake worrying! And when I arrived at the other end, was glad that only June showed up to collect us. Seeing Johnny for the first time at their beautiful home in Rose Bay, I couldn't speak, just mumbled and said I needed to sleep. Remember waking up at one point with a flying cockroach walking across my face and I was too tired to do anyting other than brush it off. Oh, and I was in another 4 poster bed, as was CC on the other side of the room. She was there to appear with Johnny and June at a benefit for the children's home they supported and we tacked a 2 week vacation on to it.
The first night we had dinner; and that was in a dining room completely wood panelled with no windows; and first one cockroach flew across above our heads, followed by another, and after the 12th, we all fled the room - very funny, I promise.

After Johnny and June left to return to the US, Carlene and I moved into the nearby hotel. This was cheaper (and also paid for by the charitable foundation) than hiring security for us to stay in the house, although we could drive to it using the golf carts, as there was a course between that and the hotel. But she'd never let me drive the cart, not once! And our bar bill was enormous, because although all kinds of alcohol was much cheaper, our choice for dinner was wine, which was very expensive! My paying a sum of $2000 remains firmly in my brain

It was really amusing to watch the men in business groups staying at the hotel see Carlene, some of whom dared to speak with us, until their wives appeared on the horizon and they were off like a shot.

Smoked quite a lot of pot there, and that makes me giggle at everything for a while then fall into a peaceful sleep, however, Carlene would get in her bed and start to read to me. Throughout the two weeks we spent there, we never ever had a morning without listening to "The Boys of Summer"! It still reminds me of a lovely vacation, with much laughter and fun. And hearing her singing as she walked around the hotel floors.

After returning to the UK in 1985 for a while, I stayed with Carlene, Tiffany and Nick at their great three floored house in Chiswick (had stayed there on previous business trips to the UK, including one when I fled New Yorkand Craigo (arrived and looked in the mirror and I had travelled the entire journey with black streaks of mascara down my face), fully intending to resign, but was persuaded not to by Doug D'Arcy and promises never kept by TCE), when she was starring in Pump Boys and Dinettes with Kiki Dee and Paul Jones. I used to have to find all the quickest short cuts to get her to the theatre on time.

Around this time Nick and Dave Edmonds broke up their group, Rockpile, on their way to the airport to do a show in Scandanavia.

The house was always full of musicians and songwriting, a parrot, Nelson (became my aunt's and uncle's when Carlene moved back to the US) and a cat and a lot of alcohol was consumed! Plus Tiffany would practice a clarinet, I think early in the morning and it was a race between which of Carlene or I would ask her please to stop.

John Hiatt came for Sunday lunch and Nick got it into his head to get up early and put the beef in, which meant that Carlene and I who had both had a good night's drinking had to hurry up preparing the rest of the lunch. Think it took her an hour to make mashed potatoes and cheese! John arrived (nice man), I had one martini (Nick came from a "proper" English family) a little food, then disappeared to my room for a long sleep.

Another time, Clem Burke came to stay when he was working with Dave Stewart (who I knew from my days at Elton's and Bernie's Rocket Records) producing Bob Dylan. Clem is a lovely guy and he'd got into what I think remains a keep fit regime for him, so was eating properly, taking vitamins, running and turning up for his sessions properly dressed! A far cry from the Blondie band member I first got to know.

I won't mention the name of another drummer who stayed one night and came down the stairs and surprised the au pair and me as he was completely naked. A lovely guy, however, very tall and it was hard to keep ones eyes at a different level. She and I ended up backed into a corner in the long kitchen with our eyes still raised to the ceiling!

Nick and Carlene separated, and she was so heartbroken, it was sad to witness and to help her pack up her belongings the same. We did share an apartment she rented in another part of London until she decided to move back to LA.

And Carlene met Howie Epstein, and with Howie she realized her full potential as an amazing country singer/songwriter with edge. I lent her my last 2000 sterling to do some recordings with him. Which lead to her being signed to WB (I was fortunate enough to know Jim Ed Norman head of the Nashville label and a fine gentleman) I negotiated the deal with a really good business affairs guy (whose name I wish I could remember) in LA, and I know it was a good deal for her, still have a copy of it and I am also still proud of what I provisions I succeeded in getting her, particularly her right to re-record any of the songs she recorded for WB and later Giant..

Won't write too much about the relationship with Chrysalis US, now being managed by Tom Sturges, except to say that I was able to negotiate a $25,000 advance out of him, the release of Carlene from the Chrysalis publishing agreement I originally negotiated and the settlement of all songs she still owed the company down to 2 and 1/2 on her album "I Fell In Love". I will, however, repeat part of the angry telephone conversation he and I had, when he called me, absolutely furious as the album came out and the first single started climbing the charts rapidly and reviews were amazing (album was nominated for a Grammy), that we had not offered him a chance to re-sign her. We had each tried separately to reach him several times!!!! He ended up yelling that he was going to make sure that he got one of her songs used for a tampon ad, to which I responded, any cover would be good - thank you!

It was too difficult to manage Carlene and remain in the UK, and I didn't have the money to fly backwards and forwards. So we tried a co-management arrangement, which didn't work. And in the end she signed with Bill (cannot remember his name, however, he was one of the best) for the USA and Australia (the latter pissed me off, since the reason she was known there was partly due to my work on her behalf) and I was supposed to continue for the rest of the world. But that didn't really work out, although WB UK and I worked out a great marketing plan for her to promote her album in the UK - she just could never find the time.

I remember so clearly flying into Nashville to see Carlene perform at a show during whatever they call the country equivalent of NARM. I sat in the first row and cried. Her voice was so very beautiful. Seeing her after the show, she was furious! I asked why - she'd had no stage sound through her ear piece so had to sing using her voice in her head, a rare talent to be able to keep in key without stage monitor sound.

Our last few years together as friends were intermittent visits. It was too hard for me to see her in such a state. And much of those years she was often public news. I visited her in Santa Fe on my 50th (persuaded by a mutual friend that her life was in danger), then didn't see her again for quite a while, until sometime in 2002 she asked me to manage her again and we were in touch by phone while she was back living with Johnny and June.

Sadly, Howie died in February 2003. He was one of the kindest men I've even known as well as one of the saddest. He and I were good friends and I have always treasured that, as he didn't choose many. We had had dinner maybe 1 or 2 years earlier, one night at the Hamburger Hamlet (off Sunset Blvd on Doheny) just the two of us. He told me quite a lot about himself, including his sadness about his family and that his brothers only ever wanted things from him. As well as his concern for Carlene's health.

Anyway, I flew to Nashville immediately, and the horror started - Howie's brothers letting themselves into the Santa Fe home Howie and Carlene loved so much, taking whatever they could. Fortunately, Howie had a guest staying who called and I was able to speak to the Sherriff who had been called in. It took some explanatation, however, I think yet again my English accent gave me some advantage and he accepted that as Carlene was co-owner of the property, the brothers should not be allowed to take anything, although that didn't quite work out and certain things could not be found by the time Carlene and I arrived there there the next day.

What a completely crazy time that was, although being in that house with the beautiful scenery somewhat made up for it. But visits from the police about there possibly being bodies buried on the land, were to say the least worrisome.

Carlene had to leave me there to go and do something, and I was left alone with three dogs, two german shepherds, one of them Anita and the other a small male mixture, called Pup. Anita never messed with Pup, but she was definitely an alpha female and the other german shepherd had to bow down somewhat. It was really amusing sleeping with Pup, since he preferred whatever pillow I chose, and we had to fight over it for me to win!

Being warned by the police of all the drug activities and dealers that had been suspected of being on the property from time to time, one of them being someone they also suspected of being a murderer, I got the electric gates fixed. Did have a lovely Native American guarding me a few nights, until I thought about it and learned how a 38 works. Wasn't worried for me, but for the dogs. Anyway, there were always odd visitors popping up there, and just after the gates were fixed a car drove up (how did he get through the gate!). I felt no fear because I had two german shepherds, and Anita immediately went up to his car window and greeted him. I asked his name - aha, the man the police had been making inquiries about and there's one of the dogs I hope will protect me all lovey dovey with him! How I kept a straight face and a calm voice, I don't know, but was very, very glad when he left. If the Pope had turned up next, I would not have been surprised.

During the time Carlene left, we heard that the two brothers had broken into Howie's and Carlene's LA home and I was driven in 6 hours in pouring rain to join her there. And they'd taken her grandmother's guitar. It was a truly awful time for both Carlene (obviously far more devastating for her) and me. I moved in with, then June died and Carlene went back to Nashville. That night, Anita gave birth to 8 puppies all over Howie's shoes!

The first lawyer we chose did not do a good job, and we were only able to get back certain items they'd taken as Carlene had seen them in the brothers' car as we arrived for a meeting with them and the lawyer. Those were Carlene's linens. They gave those back.

Carlene remained in Nashville and I did the best I could, including representing her at court to try and stop an eviction notice. I only succeeded in getting more time. Also negotiated a deal for her with The Chieftains (a band I'd worked with at Chrysalis) for Bandit of Love, as a duet with them.

Carlene arrived back a few days before eviction and we had a very short time span to move her belongings. I do not know if she ever found all her beautiful stage clothes. She'd managed to get some stuff stored at a friend's warehouse for musicians. And some of her stuff fitted into my storage.

The lawyers fired themselves, and I found another, who I dealt with for a little while, until Carlene took over. So I still don't know if she ever got anything out of the Santa Fe house I worked so hard at trying to keep for her.

And sadly, as one of her song titles, "Love Goes Without Saying Goodbye". The last time I saw my one of my two very best friends, and someone I regarded as my sister, was when she and her husband to be, came to take that out of my storage space. I still hold a grudge against Joe for the way he moved my stuff all over the place and in instances far too high for me to reach! Carlene talked to me and said she owed me an explanation. None has been forthcoming.

However, Carlene will always remain in my heart and I will always remember her as a golden child.

Stevie Wonder, and Innervisions and The Rainbow, London

I just decided to see whether my totally and unbelievably scratched 1973 original CD release of Innervisions actually still plays.
Did give it a wash and it played perfectly all the way through!!
Innervisions was such a part of my early history in the music business. I cannot think how many times I listened to it. It encapsulated so many emotions and feelings for me.
I was fortunate enough to be invited by a journalist friend to go to the Rainbow Theatre in North London when Stevie Wonder did two shows in one evening. Probably around 73/74 or maybe 72 - I know I should look it up!
We arrived and I found myself first row, centre seat. Turned in complete disgust to my journalist friend and said what awful seats, the sound is going to be awful!!
It absolutely was not. I was virtually on the stage with Mr. Wonder and his band and he was probably about 6' - 7' away from me. By the end I was completely high (no, no substance involved) and on the way out saw the head of Motown UK talking with Paul McCartney. Who I very rudely interrupted and started speaking to John. But was making no sense as all my words were inverted and muddled. He'd never seen me like that, normally a reasonably sane woman and a very capable conversationalist. Asked me to slow down! I managed to get out a plea to stay for the second show, which he gladly granted me, one because he was a good man, and two he could get back to talking to Mr. McCartney.
Throughout my career I have been to many, many shows. Saw the Beatles in a small theatre in North London, and U2 at Radio City, and many other great acts. Also saw Stevie Wonder when he played Rock the Vote, and when he played one of Joni Mitchell's songs (again only a few feet away from where I sat at a table at either a BMI or ASCAP Awards, with a Tribute to Joni Mitchell as the highlight).
Amazing, amazing performer.
And he is only one of only two celebrities that I didn't know and actually walked up to (we were passing each other at LAX airport) him and with a grumpy looking minder glaring at me, told Mr. Wonder how amazing his Rainbow show was. He was delighted and kept repeating "you were at the Rainbow". A treasured moment.

Selling my CDs on Amazon.com -v- half.com (E Bay's)

Well, it was really, really hard to let go of my 1200 + collection of vinyl albums. A large majority of which, are in great condition and each contained a memory. However, Ed Eckstein had recommended Freak Beat Records (after I had ventured into Amoeba and encountered an extremely rude young man, who treated Savoy Brown with disdain as well as myself - and I shall never ever shop at Amoeba again!) and a lovely man, Tom arrived at the hopefully temporary housing I live in (tho' it's been 2 years now).
We'd probably met when I was running Chrysalis Music Group, and he was at Gem Records. Certainly must have been in the same places at the same times, or as Dr John might say right time, wrong place.
As we went through my collection I realised how many albums I bought. A lot from Tower Records. I highly respected the man who started it, even if his name will not come to me just at the moment. Solomon? Met him at a club in New York and found him to be a really good guy.
Most of them were in great condition because, who had time to listen to your own personal collection, when you had so many demos and the music you represented, to listen to.
That was always a great thing about working in LA. With the various distances you had to drive, you could always listen to music while doing so. No cell phones in those days!
Anyway, Tom and I chatted and I think it took 3 hours for us to go through the albums. I think he got a good deal. However, I am not complaining about what I got. I could have done my homework better.
Hard to let go of Elton John Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, brown vinyl limited signed edition, which I was given when I worked for Elton and Bernie. And there are certain ones I have kept back.
Now as I go through about 600 + CDs, I find that most of them are in excellent order as well. And many are original releases. Again, many of them not played, because they were either in storage (as were my albums) for years, or for other reasons.
And selling on Amazon.com is a continuing learning process. Probably would have helped if I had read the "instructions", however, as Eddie Izzard says in his stand up routine about computers, when he gets a new Mac, he picks up the instructions and THROWS THEM AWAY!
I could compare it to black jack. You put a price, then someone else lowers theirs to beat yours, and so on and so forth. And obviously I am competing with people who sell on Amazon for a living, whereas I am selling mine to raise money for my art.
Certainly would recommend Amazon to anyone selling their CDs, whereas half.com, E-bay's company, where I listed about 20 has produced exactly zero results!

USING MY VOICE and asking for help

Anyone who has ever worked with me, would probably not hesitate to tell you that I have no problem speaking! And possibly lots of people who use the local store may well agree to, as I like chatting to other customers and the people at the check out, and the people who are always asking if they can help you. Makes the day a little bit more pleasant I hope for them, and it does for me. Especially children, who without exception always make me smile.
I've also had some funny moments in that grocery store and in various other stores, when I have asked for something in English English and no one has a clue about what I am talking! And generally they go to great length to understand me.
I remember two words in particular when I first moved to California, which one confounded two of us and the other had people I worked in total laughter.
The first involved z. Now in the UK we speak it "zed", and I could not understand how the information operator could not understand this letter, and couldn't think how to explain it. since I thought we shared all 26 letters of the alphabet. Of course, zebra did not occur to me. After a few long minutes, I finally said "it's the last letter of the alphabet". Zee, was the response.
The other involved my calling out of my office (rude in the first place) if anyone had a rubber! I could not understand why this was that funny. I did shortly.
I have an English friend who continued with his English English to a degree, where he refused to ask any to please hold the elevator, but used lift instead. I decided that that would lead to the lift leaving without me.
As I seek to get better at my watercolor/watercolour painting, I am also searching for what I can do (other than the current very tedious task of selling my many CDs) to earn some money, and being unable anymore to be in an office full of other people, I thought back to the recordings a friend made of my voice and me. Recorded some years ago, and on finding a good copy, rather than a rough mix, where I am laughing and correcting myself, which is all I could find, I decided to send mp3's to a few people.
The lovely factor about Facebook, is that I can be back in contact with people I really liked when I was still in the music business and this morning I emailed a good man, Bill Green, who I think I first met over 30 years ago. He came back to me with great suggestions, one of which was to include the fact that I would like to do voice overs in one of my blogs.
I'd particularly like to be able to read children's books and children's animation.
And my lovely sister in law, Becky, emailed me a great critique from one of the people she knows through the company that she manages, who reps people who do voice overs.
Anyone reading this, just bear in mind that if you need someone to read children's books I am up for it.
I have read for the Reading for the Blind and Dyslexic (I just had to google that and realize that I spelled it incorrectly when I replied to Bill!) who provide audio books for teaching purposes. And I enjoyed doing so. It was interesting to learn how to describe a diagram, or a footnote (there are prescribed ways to do so, to achieve the goal) and fortunately did not have to read any maths text books! I often wondered how people would listening to a book reacted to an English voice in the middle of American accents, as there was rarely enough time to read an entire book.

What do you do when

the man you love is no longer making you happy, and you are no longer making them happy.

And all you feel is a very deep teary sadness, and that you don't want to make them any sadder than they already are. Because you have listened to all the awful things that were done to him and held him when he cried away some of the pain and hurt, but only some. Things that were done, which appall you to the point where you'd like to visit those people, and let them know the terrible damage they did to another human being.

When you know how it feels to be abandoned because that's what happened to you throughout your childhood into adolesence, as was the same for him.

You know that you love him and want to protect him and want him to fully understand that he is a good man, not just think he may be one.

That like him you have been searching all those lonely years for a companion, a lover and a best friend.

That you can see, given the chance, you could both enjoy friendship and laughter and love and closeness with each other?

That you feel leaving him would be just like abandoning a child, yet all you mostly feel is sadness. That you feel wary of what will be said or done next, and weary too.

Re the Art?? of Manipulation

The words of a Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers' song come to mind.
I won't back down, there aint no easy way, I shall stand my ground, I won't back down!

The Art (???) of Manipulation

I have just discovered that you cannot cut from another document and paste, which means that what could have been an introduction to this subject written in an email to a friend, has to be written again! Pissants.
Via email a guy friend from the music business and I were discussing the art of manipulation, which includes flirting to get something you want regardless of the impact on another person's feelings.
And that really sums up for me what manipulation means to me. Somebody using whatever means to get what they want, no matter the cost to others concerned.
And I realised that manipulation has been in my life from very early on, so if I could, I have had enough practical experience of it to use it. But then to do that, would mean to do exactly the opposite of what my less than saintly self has always tried not to do, and that's - hurt another person.
My Irish grandmother would not have even understood the word manipulate except perhaps the one time she manipulated the dead chicken's claws to move! She was love incarnate, and unconditionally loved everyone.
And when I look for the only other source of unconditional love I've experienced in my life now that I have lost Anita, I think of my Nan Fehin.
But, my English grandmother (and I understand that she had a tough life) manipulated all her children as much as possible, and failed miserably most of the time with her son, my Dad, but tried it nevertheless.
She certainly manipulated me and I knew it, and in the end would apologise for having said absolutely nothing, but listen to her lecture me or tell me bad things about myself! It was just simpler; and that carried on through until she died. And I loved her a great deal anyway. Lesson no 1.
When I was 9 (my brother's and my mum died when he was 4 and I was 5 and I still reckon he got the lucky break because he wasn't at school yet he went to stay with my Irish grandparents for 18 months, whereas I lived with my English grandmother (although this did give me the advantage of having three lovely aunts and their respective lovely husbands in my life and David got them too, but 18 months later), my father remarried. The woman who was extremely loving and far more friendly than the English grandmother my brother and I lived with when we would spend weekends with her and her two children (allowed to wear what we liked, run through fields, no criticisms, not telling offs), changed the minute she and my father married.
My life was hell for the next 10 - 11 years. I won't go into her art of manipulation, just that she was excellent at it. I tried very hard to get her to love me, but I do not love her. Lesson no 2.
Lesson no 3. The music business. Although before I joined that I had experience of manipulative people in the various art related businesses I worked in.
Sadly, in my experience, it was mostly women who used manipulation. And I can understand this from the perspective that we don't have the phsyical strength of a man, and can fall prey to using other means to safeguard ourselves.
In the latter instance, I cannot condemn any woman who would do this to save her own or her children's lives.
Maybe I was fortunate. The two main characters in my family were my brother and my dad, so most men I met, fell into either one or the other. I never found myself talking to guys any differently than I would a woman.
Two of the people I thought of as closest friends, I recognize now as manipulative, and knowing something of their childhood, I understand. But it sure cost me wasted time, money and emotional pain.
The music business was full of manipulators, master ones.
When I worked for Elton, he was still very insecure and there were many times I saw this used against him, by people supposedly there to take care of him.
We'd woo a band, every single member of them, sometimes against stiff competition and then ask them to ditch one of the members, who didn't quite hold the guitar the "cool" way. The worst was the duo. Who signs a duo, then splits them up. Sadly, the one who stayed did not fare anywhere near as well as the one let go, who made his own way with his own creative energy, and that was at the heart of the success of the duo!
I did try manipulation for a short period, when trying to work for a man at a company I loved and who had become my family. He made it clear at every point possible to the extent that managers noticed it, that I had to tow the line, his line. I simply could not and I stopped towing the line, and in the end, I also simply could not take the pressure of trying to put a stop to how other people I worked with, including acts, were treated as bits and pieces. I left the company.
Happened again when I went back to working for a music company and again I simply could not deal with it. I do have the precious memory of the entire administrative staff taking me out for lunch and offering in full force to leave and join me, if I would start a new music company.
The last 12 years of my life have been forever changed by manipulation. In the music business I sorted of understood it. It's a dog eat cat world. I am not a saint as I've written earlier - far, far away from being one, however, I draw the line at engaging someone ele's vulnerable feelings in order to acquire what I want. Better not to get what I want, if that's what I have to do.
Because I am not a saint, while I may think of things I can do, I know that I would pay a heavy personal penalty if I did use manipulation. And also know that having learned at the hands of masters how to manipulate, I have also similtaneously learned the emotional damage this usually does to people you love. End of lessons.

John Waite and winning a bet

I have just (or rather my boyfriend did) move all of my vinyl albums from storage to where I am currently living with the intention of selling them. So many memories to each of them.
Anyway, I also found my gold disc of John Waite's EMI solo album, No Brakes, with the single, "Missing You". John personally presented me with this disc and I treasure it, and will not part with it.
I also remember very clearly that Jeff Aldrich head of A & R at Chrysalis bet me that "Missing You" would not go to number 1, which I said it would.
And it did!!
John has a great voice, is a good bloke and I am glad he's out there performing again.

Billy Idol and Steve Stevens

The sad death of Bill Aucoin, who as I have written, I loved dearly, brought me to thinking about Billy Idol, and of Steve Stevens.
Billy I first met in the UK, when he was still a member of Generation X, a fantastic band.
The group arrived and they were all so polite and delightful! Having only recently met another to be left unamed punk band, who had come in with their delightful producer and were just being rude (if you were punk, you were supposed to be rude!). I politely told them that there was no need for this and to stop, which they did.
Shortly after I went to the famous Wardour Street Marquee, and saw them perform. I was incredibly impressed that they had chosen a steel band to open for them. Great.
Billy's performance was electrifying and while I had got used to the exuberance of punk audiences, the one that night was just way, way great. I didn't quite get the idea behind the spitting from Billy, however, it was all part of his great showmanship. Fantastic show! I stayed far back.
Anyway, the second time I was to meet Billy was a while later after I had moved to Los Angeles. There was a Chrysalis party and Billy and I ended up on the patio chatting at first quite happily, before we got into a heated argument about who came up with punk bands first, the US or the UK and I definitely disagreed vehemently with his then opinion that there were no real punk writers/performers in the US. I named Gary Valentine as one of the foremost at that time. I suppose it's a British thing, but we don't really treat stars (except for Her Majesty and Royal Family, where protocol plays a large part in one's behaviour) with any difference. They're people too. I think that some of the Chrysalis US staff were rather aghast at my having a full on argument with one of the artiststs. Nevertheless, that argument sealed a great relationship between Billy (when I saw him, which wasn't that often) and me.
Now to Steve Stevens!
What an amazing guitarist and the albums that he and Billy created together are still among my most favourite music.
Eyes Without A Face is among my top 20 favourite songs. (And discussing this as potential release in an A & R meeting, someone pointed out that you couldn't dance to it [!!], Terry Ellis got up put his arms around me and to the chagrin [as usual] of Jack Craigo, we danced.)
My funniest and most favourite memory of meeting with Billy was going to the hotel where he and Bill were staying to discuss business, and Billy asking me if I would please try on the lingerie he had just bought for his girlfriend! Not quite part of my job as head of his publishing company, was my response with a laugh.
Steve, always dressed as a punk, yet was one of the most polite and affable men I have ever met.
Back in the UK one time and staying with Nick Lowe and Carlene Carter, we had a party and finding that Steve was in town I invited him to join us. As soon as he walked in the house dressed all in black plastic and earrings, etc, I saw the look on Nick's then current drummer, and before the latter had a chance (there was always a thing between pub rockers and punk bands), told him in no uncertain terms that Steve was one of my good friends and, please, do not be rude to him.
I am glad that Steve and Billy are back together and I hope one of these days to get to see them perform again.

BILL AUCOIN

I have just learned via Facebook that a very dear friend, Bill Aucoin has just died from prostate cancer.
I loved Bill, and I use the word "love" sincerely.
And I am sorry that I did not even know he was ill.
I met Bill pretty soon after I moved to LA in 1978, and I could tell party stories, however, I shall not.
Bill loved life. I never saw him angry, always smiling and though he was not tall, he filled the room.
He let me stay with him at his wonderful apartment in New York next to St. Patricks (I could have stayed in a hotel courtesy of my Chrysalis job), however, it was a pleasure to spend time with him.
It was way up there and I remember one evening spell bound by the ballet dancing of papers caught by the varying breezes, and that's how I shall think of him.
Bill always treated me with respect both as a woman and as an astute business person. No boys club' treatment from him ever.
I believe he was a great manager. I didn't know him when he managed Kiss, however, he was with them for some time and I expect that they will each miss him too.
And he managed Billy Idol really well.
He sometimes got in his own way. However, I don't think I ever saw him not smiling, except for one afternoon, when after a hard day's night, he trusted me enough to take a nap in my LA office.
I joined him as his date one night when his mother and sister were in town and he was taking them to the theatre. A fun night and a privilege.
Bill, I am sorry we lost touch except via occasional FB contact.
love, ann

Going to visit the ocean

I have (I hope) enough gas (petrol in British parlance) to get me there and back.
There is something about the ocean, which has always soothed me. Which in some ways is odd, because I sink rather than swim and have nearly drowned three times.
It's the sound,and the scent and during the week, the lack of people.
The Pacfic ocean does not sound as huge and ominous as the incredibly strong North sea off the coast of Norfolk (which although it does sound ominous and you can't see anything, did not frighten me), where for a brief while I shared an over 200 year old cottage with a walled in garden with my ex husband. [This contained fox gloves and wonderful wild flowers and I could hear the sound of the sea from there, as well as smell it.]
Still working for Elton and as usually having had a crazy week, I often had to stop off on the Friday night 6 hour drive to the cottage. Once slept way into the early hours of the morning, quite safely. But when I got there, no matter what time or whether it was sheeting rain, my first desire, aside from parking my car was to walk down the very nearby slipway on to a vast beach in the darkness. And would wander along near, but not too close, to the sea. The sounds were so powerful, and you could palpably feel it. The huge waves crashing in and slowing to a gentler swoosh as they met the beach, just calmed my heart and made everything seem well with the world.
I loved that small cottage, which had withstood many gales without damage, while other new houses around it had. Although I could have done without going into the garden one time I arrived home, to one of the outhouses and being completely startled and horrified at the two pheasants hanging there! You can only hunt pheasants at certain times in the UK, but if they happened to run in front of your car, which they often did, you could keep them. Pheasant is okay (unless it has been shot, in which case, you might bite hard down on a piece of metal!) and is good for you, as is venison. No fatty substance to clog your arteries, as they run a lot.
Particularly remember the small (Munford) village pub; where I was generally one of only a few women; playing darts against the locals. And stunning them all into silence when to win the current game, I actually hit the bullseye to finish the game!
Now being a woman in the music biz boys' club, I did learn how to play darts as well as the small table poole/whatever, with mushrooms. Beat quite a few men at that too. Never got into streaking, however!
Anyway, instead of doing what I should be doing, which is listing more CDs on Amazon or Half.com, I shall take my camera and warm clothes and just walk and enjoy the ocean.
It's a measure of my limited budget that I rarely get to the coast, and one of my reasons for returning to Los Angeles, was to be near the ocean!
I am tired. Did not have a good night's sleep, having to sit to do so, because of damage to my left sinus after a fall into a bath tub! Run out of nasal spray, and I do have some percussion going on in my head, but that's ok.
I shall wrap up warmly and hope to come back refreshed and invigorated.

THE SAVAGE NOMADS - WHAT THE ANGEL SAID

THE SAVAGE NOMADS - AN EMPTY SEAT

It's after 4 am on my 61st birthday

My mum died when I was young, and Dad could only remember that I was born in the early hours of the morning, or late in the night, whichever you prefer.
So 61 years ago, I was a few years old. Or as my Dad liked to say, I have entered my 62nd year.
My boyfriend has been at odds with me (he rebuilding a motorcylce carbutor - brave of him I thought since he has not done that kind of mechanical work for many years) and I have given up and returned to my own bed.
I think perhaps older women, like cats, like their quiet and solitude more than men.
I have been working on my first portraits from photos admitedly, however, ones I took. And I am thilled. My art can only get better, and that's exciting. I may not ever be commerically succesful, however, my passion has been ignited and I would rather draw and paint then anything else, except what's necessary.
I am going to bed now. Reading Red Cardinal - good book.

4 a.m. on the morning of my 61st birthday!

Since my

`ied when I was young, and Dad could never remember

Farmers Market Insurance - Selling my music is really hard and straw bale houses

And it's also a wonder how I managed to listen to them all at some time or another.
Whereas listing them on Amazon.com or Half.com is not particularly enjoyable, as another piece of my history goes up for sale.
What on earth am I going to do when it comes to my 2000 vinyl collection. Which has an almost new Denon turntable, my brother bought me one Christmas - very thoughful gift.
Why can't I have a large enough space for my albums and CDs, a huge window to light a drawing board where I can paint and listen to music.
Nothing too grand and preferably not within distance of many people.
And speaking of space, I have some books out from the library on making houses out of straw bales, adobe style. Caught a bit of a Huell Howser show about them and have become caught up in the whole concept.
Now if I could just get my car accident settled. Happened on September 7 2008, first one in 40 years of driving, except for small dings here and there.
And all I was doing was sitting waiting at the traffic light waiting for it to change when a several ton Continental Navigagor crashed into the back of me. The young lady jumped out of her car (not damaged, although I did find the grill emblem in the back of the volvo station wagon, which I have to be grateful that I was driving), cell phone to ear and apologising that her brakes just failed. Well she hit me at about 30 mph.
Now she's insured with Farmers and I am insured with Farmers. My boyfriend who had some damage to his arm from being thrown forwards was paid $1000 within a few weeks. Whereas me, with severe repercussions from whip lash, have damage to my brachial plexus (when those nerves get going, it's like having a rat knawing at you) and am for the first time since my mid 40s (when I finally got the triple anti biotic treatment for pylori bacteria, which stopped the constant duodenal ulcers I had suffered with since I was about 17) back in pain again.
Now has Farmers treated me equitably?
Well, it's now June 26, 2010 and I still have only been paid for the car. No movement from them regarding the damage to my body.
And I just read they're being accused of anti discrimination.
To cap it all off, my brother has insured with them for nearly 30 years, and I have for 12.
I mean how cut and dried can a case be when a huge tonnage suv hits a stationary car, which is only stationary because the law requires that you stop at red lights!

Anita

I wait for the sound of her paws
I yearn for the look in her eyes.
I miss the furry warmth of her body,
and I simply can't let go of the pain.
I wake in the morning, she's not there.
She rests in my heart.

Learning to live with depression and other mental challenges

In May 1992, my Dad died, and the rest of the year is a blur with much alchol to deaden the pain. I learned that my whole life (mum died when I was 5) had centered around him. Even tho' I have always been incredibly independent and moved to L.A. to develope Chrysalis Music Group USA.

In February 1993, I lost my job, went to Tortolla with a cheating, lying and abusive boyfriend (we find such people in our attempt to try to correct our childhoods) and on my return, came to accept that I am an alcoholic.

Only problem with giving it up, which I did, was that now there was no wall between me, and depression, panic disorder (I thought that this was a symptom of depression and didn't get that treated until about 2008) and as I learned a few months ago, ptsd.

Eventually, I drank again, however, fortunately with the help of the Musician's Union I went to Cirque Lodge in November 1999 and learned so much in just 30 days (the stay was supposed to be 28, but they let me stay an extra 2) and life began to change.

It's been a struggle. Coming to terms with not being the person I thought I was, outgoing, funny and often outrageously outspoken.

I learned that my childhood had been full of a mixture of people. Some very caring and nurturing and some very crazy mixed up ones. I was a child living with adults who had their own problems, and no time to help a child grow up.

I learned about the authentic self, and that the authentic self as a child is much confused by what is horribly wrong appearing to be right. Because a child does understand the difference. But doesn't have any way to protect themselves.

I learned that without the wall of alcohol to protect me, I no longer had any defences against depression or panic disorder or ptsd.

I learned that if I didn't take measures to help myself and take medication if necessary (which, in my case, is) there would be nothing between me and death either by alcohol or suicide.

To be contd...

Homage to Allan Rinde

My very first day at Chrysalis LA, started with a visit from Artie Wayne. Artie I had met at a Midem (can't remember which year) and subsequently introduced him to my successor at Chrysalis Music Ltd., Chris Stone (wish I knew where he was), who also invested in his talent.
Can't remember the name of Artie's song, however, was convinced it was a hit and had persuaded Private Stock to invest in Pete Gage (of Vinegar Joe fame) producing it with Linda Kendricks, who I had met when she was a back up singer to Elton or Kiki. A rather crazy woman, with the most beautiful blue eyes, a great voice and pretty stunning. As an aside - Nicky Graham of CBS actually suggested that we were having a gay affair - being pretty naive still, didn't quite get what he was suggesting, but when the proverbial penny dropped, he nearly had my salad in his lap! Not that I have any problem with people's sexual orientation, it's just that by then I was already pretty fed up with being accused of having affairs with anyone in trousers, now a woman too! Linda had been a back up singer with Elton, or Kiki. Anyway, Pete and I thought the song needed a bridge!
Now as General Manager of Chrysalis you would think that both the imprudence and impudence (especially as the legendary copyright expert, Bernard Brown of Apple had helped me learn so much more about copyright law; which I'd started doing at Music Sales; when I was Gen. Man. of Big Pig and Rocket) of my action would have struck me. Besides which, no one was looking to share in the copyright neither Pete Gage, nor me for Chrysalis. Just wanted a hit single, and I think a writer's credit for Pete for the bridge.
My first day in my lovely LA office with a patio and humming birds (later lost to the creative genius, Billy Bass) life was going well.
My first appointment - Artie Wayne and Allan Rinde.
Artie was extremely annoyed and agitated that I had dared to add a bridge to the song he wrote about his love for his grandmother. I was totally horrified and upset that I had descrated something so special to him, and immediately offered to have it removed. That's not what Artie was looking for, but that's for him to write about.
Allan was there to keep him company.
That evening coincidentally, I met Allan again at dinner with one of Ten Years After, Ric Lee (another good man) and a life long friendship began.
Allan rescued me when my heart was broken by a winsome blonde man shortly after my move to LA (he did not like how I cleaned the faucets; the end came when he took me to Joshua Tree and ignored me for the entire time we stayed there, although I still have a double pink silk scarf I bought from Palm Springs' BoJangles), and thereafter rescued me several times more from other unwise choices. A great deal of my spare time was spent up at his and Richard Kimble's house in Laurel Canyon. The two of them generally had me in constant fits of laughter.
I also learned that he had introduced Blondie to Chrysalis, which he has never been acknowledged for.
Allan is extremely intelligent, has a caustic wit, and is thoroughly delightful. When I moved to New York, in spite of the fact that I could stay in a hotel I always stayed with Allan, which did mean that no matter what time I had gone to bed the night before I was to be awoken by the famed Holloway Cleaners starting up their business at around 6 a.m.
I am responsible for his breaking his wrist. He'd visited me in my New York apartment and kindly went up the ladder provided to change a light bulb in a 13' high ceiling. The ladder broke. He had great fun telling everyone at Genghis that his broken wrist was my fault. Fortunately, although he had not wanted to go to emergency, I insisted he did. I was more concerned with his stomach, since his arms were working fine, but he had a hair line fracture in his wrist.
During his planning stage for Genghis Cohen, I attended a few dinners while he interviewed Chinese chefs - great food! His delight in constantly rebuilding the restaurant (never knew what alterations would be made each time I came to LA), and in establishing the Cantina as a "must perform at music" venue was infectious.
My favorite story among so many - his reaction to my commenting one morning as I came out of the spare bedroom and said (was working for Imago by now) that I may be fired by the end of the week - "you make dreadful coffee!" Retreated to the guest bathroom to mutter a little, before returning and asking how did he like it?
Allan's sympathy and empathy when my brother was going through the a dreadful divorce and custody battle remains indelibly imprinted in my memory - I fled to him in tears many times. Before finding a house together, my brother and his eldest daughter were able to seek shelter (from a set-up for spousal abuse) at Allan's Flores Street apartment (he was in Nashville visiting Toni Wine) just before Chrismas that year, 1997.
His knowledge of music is phenomenal. He has introduced me to some of the most interesting men, Michael Ochs and Kenny Schaeffer, are just two of them.
My last trip to Palm Springs was with him to visit Richard and Patti Kimble. Richard and he had me in constant fits of laughter as they shared their music biz stories and I really wish he'd write a book.
Life is full of people that come and go. Most of them can go, and that's fine, Allan - never.

Perplexed

I was not particularly a fan of Monty Python when it first became all the rage in the UK, possibly because it was on every week, and became the thing along with football (soccer in the US) that everyone in a male oriented world talked about.

However, I think that if I can look at my current state of living under constant duress, and compare it to the Ministry of Silly Walks, I can call it a period of silly times.

I was given the gift of being able to laugh at myself. I did lose that for a while when depression became bleak beyond black, however, it has popped up again - thank goodness.

Because it seems that no matter what step I take forward, I get stuck.

Friday I visited my gastroentrologist (think that's correct), a very pleasant man, who I trust. Which given the fact that in my late teens and early 20s I grew up with several junior doctors as friends, trust is not a word I use lightly in reference to doctors in general.

On my paternal side we have lots of cancers, however, especially from grandmother, through father and his sister, we have stomach and colon cancer. Neither of which will kill you, if you get them in time.

And I have delayed

Unbreak My Heart

One of Diane Warren's many number 1's. The Bee Gees "How Do I Mend A Broken Heart" and Frank Wildhorn/Chuck Jackson "Where Do Broken Hearts Go".
Grieving - the 5 processes of - "from Wikipedia Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross posited sequential stages of grief including denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance, which are commonly referred to as the "grief cycle."
I never remember the 5 stages easily, however, I have also read that you don't go through them in a specific order, you go through the five as you feel. And you may repeat them over and over.
A thriving business has sprung up for grief counsellors, who help people who have lost loved ones to death. I have met some and know it is a business for them, and I have met others, who simply have incredible empathy for another's pain.
The five stages are applicable to losing a home, a job, a loved one to death, a loved one to divorce, any loss significant to the person concerned.
I have lost my dog, Anita. And cannot find a way through the pain yet. I don't want to walk the streets where I live, where I used to walk with her. I don't want to wake up and not see her face. I don't want to not be able to snuggle close to her and lay my head on her body, which was so soft, furry and comforting. I would gladly vacuum up all her hair again, or brush her daily, sometimes a chore, but it wouldn't be now. I can see her eyes clearly, they were so beautiful and we looked into each other. I simply just don't want to be without her.
I cannot remember experiencing unconditional love except from my Irish grandmother, until Anita came into my life. And she just simply loved me. Such a simple love and so comforting, and it's gone.
Yes, I know she remains in my heart and I can look at her photograph, but these are not enough.
Although a simple memory has just popped into my head. My brother, Darren and his wife, Becky brought their two sons, Ben and Luke to LA a few years ago. When they came through customs at LAX, Ben ran to me and put his arms around me and held me for such a long time. That felt so good and safe.
So I cry and cry, and am quiet.

Totally new to this

My friend, Frances Cavaricci has just introduced me to this, so I am just starting "blogging".
I used to work in the music industry, and for quite a few years had great fun and enjoyed myself. Including 18 months running Elton John's and Bernie Taupins publishing companies, a privilege. I have a page in She Bop, the Definitive History of Women in Rock Pop and Soul, opposite the very talented and always an excellent business woman, songwriter, Diane Warren. But for me, the business changed, or perhaps I took off the rose tinted glasses. I believe people are people and not downloads, or pieces of plastic. Songwriters, musicians and artists share their soul when they give us their music.
Now, I am doing what I really wanted to do in the first place, which is paint. And I suppose also sharing my soul.
I have chosen to learn how to use watercolours, since that is supposed to be the hardest medium. And I guess that if I can be satisfied with what I can achieve with them, I can try others.