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Currently listening : Appeal to Reason [Ecopack] By Rise Against Release date: 2008-10-07

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Women Who Rock Wednesday: Deborah Frost!

Yay, it's Wednesday! The day when I get to spotlight one of the many women whose art (be it music, painting, writing, whatever!) rocks my world. Today I am honored to feature the legendary musician and writer, Deborah Frost. I discovered Deborah and her music with her band the Brain Surgeons via MySpace, which as she addresses later is a great way to be able to discover really meaningful music without having to deal with the all the gatekeepers put in place by the music industry. Deborah gave me one of the most in depth, insightful interviews I've gotten so far on WWRW. It's a long read, but a really, really good one. I gotta say she completely schooled me on so much in this one interview, and I hope you learn as much from it as I did. As usual, please leave a comment about anything this interview made you reflect on and you will be entered to win a signed copy of the Brain Surgeons album Denial of Death and possibly some more Brain Surgeons swag! I'll announce the winner (chosen at random from all comments across all three of my blogs) next Wednesday.

But before I let Deborah take over the show, a couple quick announcements. Khyrinthia from blogger is the winner of the Liz Adams grab bag and painting! Please email me at stephanie at stephaniekuehnert dot com with your mailing address and I will pass it on to Liz!

Also the fabulous Eli and Rae from nineseveneight reviews did possibly the most interesting interview with me ever, so you will want to check that out here.

Lastly, as I announced last week, in celebration of Teen Read Week, next week, I'm letting you interview my characters Emily and Regan from I WANNA BE YOUR JOEY RAMONE! This is your chance to find out any backstory (or what happens next!) that you were wondering about for those characters and their band She Laughs. I haven't gotten many questions yet and I need your participation in order for this to work, so please leave your questions as comments or email them to stephanie at stephaniekuehnert dot com by Sunday!

But now without further adieu, the amazing Deborah Frost!!!


Q: It's an honor to have you on the blog for WWRW because as a Harvard-educated woman who not only plays music as part of the Brain Surgeons, but also writes about it, I think you can give us an interesting perspective on women's role in rock music throughout the years, but let's start with you. When did you start playing music? Did you come from a musically inclined family or discover it on your own?

Deborah: Thanks, it's great to be here. My parents were incredible music lovers-- their first Manhattan apartment, in fact, was next to a conservatory where you could hear everyone playing right through the walls and out of the windows, so I was exposed to this constantly before I was even born. My mother has always played the piano-- not on that level-- but there was always music and my parents were always going to the Philharmonic and the Opera. If my mother was home, it wasn't Sunday without the live broadcast from the Met blasting through the house-- they had a really good stereo system set up practically as soon as they were invented. Now mother probably goes to as many concerts as any critic-- though she only goes to what she likes! Leonard Bernstein had these Young Peoples' Concerts, and I was taken to them as a very young child in Carnegie Hall-- before Lincoln Center existed. And then I went to the New York City Ballet alot-- and not just the "Nutcracker"-- and what could be more fabulous than Stravinsky and Tchaikovsky-- and everything that Balanchine set his dances to. This was basically the soundtrack of my childhood. And then there were the Broadway musicals of the era--of course Leonard Bernstein wrote some of em-- by the time I was 9 or 10, I was incredibly into them. This was also the moment when Broadway musicals were great and not mish-mashed out by Andrew Lloyd Webber or Elton John. Not that Elton John hasn't been great-- especially his earliest stuff-- but not when he's connecting dots for Disney. I would spend hours singing and acting out all of the parts of "The Sound of Music" or "West Side Story" in my living room-- to this day, I can probably do most of them for you on the spot. I was thrilled when they had Sound of Music--because it had kids as characters-- but somehow I knew I'd never get a gig as one of these little Austrian blondes-- and believe me, I thought about it. Although I didn't start auditioning for anything til I was old enough to take the train by myself, I was very, very driven when I was really young and was always trying to figure out how I would get into some kind of Broadway show--or even, God forgive me, the Mickey Mouse Club-- but in my day, there wasn't very much else on television, especially for kids.

I actually started going to my mother's piano lessons when I was about three-- which is when I also taught myself to read. So I thought it was just like another form of reading-- unfortunately, my sightreading has not improved too much since. Maybe it was something with the left hand-- it either got to be too much work or I lost interest and decided I'd rather jump around in a little leotard or ride ponies or whatever, and my mother was probably just as happy to have her music lessons back to herself-- though I was later in the school orchestra--playing the clarinet. I was really pissed off that they wouldn't allow me to play drums, which was my first choice-- it wasn't for girls. And by the time I was in high school, I studied classical singing and my teacher was really heartbroken that I didn't want to pursue opera. But frankly, I couldn't stand the idea of wearing a dress! Not to mention how rigid the roles were, and you had to sing exactly what was written and by the time I was in high school, I'd already been writing my own songs-- as well as a lot of other things-- even if not a lot of people heard them-which was probably just as well-- for years. Probably as soon as I heard the Beatles write their own songs, I wanted to, too. But I actually have gone back and studied more formal singing again. Actually, James Hetfield, who is an awesome vocalist and has developed so much in general as a singer and musician, gave me the idea-- and I did it at first for the same reason he did, because I was concerned about blowing my voice out and just being more prepared for night after night. It's just like dealing with any other set of muscles-- and it's basically really painful when you hurt yourself and as you get older, it just gets harder to recover. And it's just not fun-- especially when you're concerned about giving people a good show. And if it's not fun, what's the point? You have to really love this or there's no way to do it night after night-- whether you're making money or not making money, or playing stadiums or dives. Because you have to do it under so many adverse conditions before you even get to the point where you might possibly break even, never mind make money, that that is really not that important-- and it's never motivated anyone I've ever seen become really successful-- and stay that way, which is even harder-- and I've seen a lot.

But as for singing, I studied with a really great teacher here in New York, Leslie Giammanco, who's also a great opera singer and performer, she's done Broadway, the whole bit, and she also happens to be a friend and neighbor, which is particularly good for me, because I'm so lazy I hardly like to get out of my bathrobe and go anywhere. But what's ironic when I look back now is that as a teenager, I wanted the world and I wanted it now---of course I still want it NOW- but I didn't really want to take the time it would take to develop as a classical singer, I wanted to get right out there and scream with a rock band-- and what's funny is that I really didn't evolve as a singer--or anything else-- until I was probably the same age I would have been to hit my stride in any other genre or make my debut at the Met, lol. But growing up, popular music was not such a big deal-- though for some reason, I had the Doris Day single of "Que Será, Será" and also, when I was about three, I was in the restaurant of the Biltmore Hotel in Palm Beach with my parents led by the bandleader who'd played my parents' wedding and I got up and I will never forget, it's such a vivid, indelible memory-- I didn't really come up to the first bend of the stand up bass-- I got up on the stage and sang "Que Será, Será" and the people in this huge fancy restaurant, maybe it was a ballroom, all clapped. And that was it-- I was hooked. On clapping. Maybe it had nothing to do with music.


Q: No doubt you have been an influence on numerous women in rock, but who were your early influences? And which women (in music, art, writing, any creative field) are you really inspired by lately?

Deborah: You don't want this interview to be longer than War & Peace, do you? In terms of rock, for me, the major, major thing was the Beatles. Elvis had come along earlier-- but as a child I was basically repulsed by him-- and there was no reason for me, coming from where I came from, not to be. It wasn't until much later that I appreciated his music. But as I've said before, most of the girls I knew immediately had the response that they wanted to be one of the Beatles' girlfriends-- I wanted to be THEM. In fact, really early on, when I was 9 or 10, I was trying to figure out how I could sing with myself-- and be like John and Paul TOGETHER-- my father got a Wollensack tape recorder and I couldn't figure out why I couldn't figure out how to make it multitrack--of course I didn't even know the name for it then. It wasn't until I heard Todd Rundgren--at which point I was about 17-- and learned how he did Something/Anything on a Teac 4 track--one of the first that was available for home use-- and recognized that was what I'd been trying to do--and of course, as soon as I could, I went out and got one of those. This is also why I called one of my first bands the Imaginary Playmates-- cause it was based on this idea of me singing and doing all the stuff myself. Of course I also didn't realize that you also needed a mixer or a preamp--and basically I decided pretty much then that the technology part was not what I was most passionate about and someone else could be the engineer! But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Anyway, at first with the Beatles--and the Stones-- and most of the British Invasion--well, you'll notice there were no women influences, because there were NO women! Except maybe, Petula Clark. And I'm not ashamed to admit that I liked her too--I may still have the single of "Downtown" somewhere. But I appreciated good, well crafted pop-- and I still do. But another HUGE influence was Motown-- but it wasn't just the Supremes, or Martha and the Vandellas--I don't know that I would call them "women influences" just because they were biologically women. I was just completely into the songwriting and the sound, the beat. And of course, Phil Spector's production of the Ronettes-and people who imitated him-- or them--like the Shangri Las-- but with groups like that--even though I was too young to articulate it and there certainly wasn't a WHOLE lot of information disseminated--- I mean, there was 16 Magazine--which I devoured RELIGIOUSLY- as soon as I discovered it- but that was more fan nonsense--not that I cared--I was just so into this whole world that I wanted to see it and get as much of it as possible. But I also had other people who lived with--and/or worked for my family-- and I probably began hanging out with them a lot more than with my mother-- who had three younger kids to deal with and probably didn't even notice-- and music was something really vital that we shared. I would spend hours in the basement while my Southern housekeeper did the laundry, just listening to R&B radio and talking-- I could really identify with that character in Tony Kushner's Caroline or Change-- cause I thought, for the first time, that is, in a sense, me! But I was very influenced, early on, by R&B-- and for me, the music I truly, truly love--that resonates most personally and emotionally for me, always has some element of blues and soul-- which is one of the things that separates me and say, Robert Plant, with whom I've had this conversation, and really helped me clarify it all for me-- from, say, people like Metallica--as much as I admire them-- or Joan Jett, much as I love her. They're just a little too white. At the end of the day, as far as I'm concerned, Aretha Franklin IS and will probably always be, the voice of God.

Yet at the same moment, we also had an au pair from Belfast, Maureen Simpson, who I adored--and I was shattered when she had to go back to Ireland under somewhat mysterious circumstances and I know she came back and settled in White Plains and got married and had a few kids-- I saw her one day on a corner but we didn't really get a chance to exchange info--in any case, she knew where I lived-- but I've always wondered what's become of her--so if anyone out there knows---she had a brother Terrence, who was my penpal for years and another named Liam (William)-- her mother would knit incredible sweaters for us at Christmas--and she also exposed me to the plight of what was going on in Ireland-- which is something that at 9 or 10 I certainly would not have been exposed to otherwise-- it was not exactly front page news in the Times-- and something that has really been a concern of mine since. In fact, she got me very into Catholicism-- of course my mother was horrified to find my counting rosary beads and sprinkling holy water on myself-- and I was so into the entire megillah that I was ready to convert--until I realized that you couldn't jump into the baptismal font and come out immediately as Joan of Arc!

That was not the deal I wanted.

But in terms of rock, the first woman I heard singing a rock song was Grace Slick. "White Rabbit"-- and I can tell you exactly where I was, just like I can tell you where I was when I first heard Eric Burdon doing "House of the Rising Sun"-- which had almost as profound an effect. And it was very earth shattering for me. Mind blowing, if you'll pardon the expression. And then came Janis-- who was so clearly ripping her heart and her throat out on every song, which is really what I was determined to do too--for a long time-- even when I wasn't necessarily singing. If I were just writing a piece-- everything was beyond full-throttle--if there wasn't blood, fairly literally on every page--I wasn't trying hard enough. You can imagine what a joy I was for any editor. I cannot believe some of the things I did, and I really can't believe I survived any of them. Sometimes I wake up and I'm just amazed that I'm here.

As for other fields-- well there is so much literature that I've devoured, and SO many writers who've stimulated and inspired me, it's impossible to start. And I really hate classifying anything in terms of male/female anything--great art transcends that stupid kind of classification. Why not ask who my favorite Black or Asian writers--or artists with blonde hair or need wheelchairs or who are short fat Jews with an eyepatch? I would resent being looked at or categorized that way, so frankly, my gut feeling is I don't even want to participate in what I consider to be a completely idiotic enterprise. I mean you don't WRITE or paint or make music with your- or any--dick (unless you're some total chest thumping moron who participates in some fairly primitive derivative crappy metal or pseudo rock noise that has nothing to do with any art form, it's just monkey see-monkey do). So my gut feeling is that I don't even want to participate in that kind of discussion or even privilege that question. I think it should be outlawed. And if I were queen, I would!

Shakespeare influenced me, JD Salinger influenced me, Arthur Miller, Tennessee Williams, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Faulkner, Raymond Carver, the list goes on and on and on, I don't even know where to start. The Bible influenced me, numerous classical thinkers-- there are a lot of historians I've been into at various points. A lot of junk has influenced me too! As for female writers-- everyone from Louisa May Alcott, Edith Wharton, Dorothy Parker, Virginia Woolf, Djuna Barnes, Jean Stafford, Sylvia Plath, Ann Sexton, whose daughter was a good friend of mine at school- it's endless. Jane Jacobs, who was not a fiction writer, was a huge influence on me. Grace Paley was massive. But sometimes if I have the time to go back to someone I simply could not get enough at some other point in my life--well, it's interesting to see if their voices still resonate in the same way. Paula Fox-- Courtney Love's biological grandmother-- who came to writing fairly later, as a fullblown human being--- her adult novels- as well as the way they relate to her memoir which allows you to really see how she was able to transcend the circumstances of her life and transform it into art-- incredible. If I could figure out how to do that, I would be happy. She's a tremendous artist. It's also amazing how the craziness of the women in this family has been passed on and the same patterns repeated through at least four generations, even when these people had no idea--due to being literally abandoned by their mothers in one way or another that they were biologically related. It's astounding. If Courtney Love has one functioning brain cell or iota of talent, you can see exactly where it came from--- as well as her insanity. If you're talking about contemporary writers, I went through a massive Ann Beattie phase in my impressionable youth-- and I met her and hung out with her-- she was a friend of a friend who was also a teacher of mine-- to me that was a much bigger deal than ANY rock star-- and believe me, I've encountered quite a few--John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Robert Plant, Jimmy Page--you name em, I've probably bumped into 'em somewhere along this strange wild trip. It was even weirder when someone I knew had been her first husband and later was married to another pretty decent writer called me up when he found himself suddenly single and got my number from an editor after supposedly liking some piece I wrote somewhere. I was beyond flattered-- but I was so in love with the idiot I am unfortunately still married to I don't think I gave him the time of day. Joan Didion was a major, major influence upon my younger years-- I was similarly awestruck upon meeting her, and likewise Nora Ephron, another major total idol. And her sister Delia is no slouch either. And she and her husband Jerry are just terrific hosts and just super wonderful, lovely people who help restore my faith in humanity, period.

But I've also spent I a lot of time surrounded by and studying fine art-- whether in my own home, family friends' homes--I've really been privileged to have been exposed to a lot of amazing, museum quality work in pretty intimate settings and not just in the great museums of the world, where I've also spent a lot of time. For me, communing with art is basically a religious experience-- though not a substitute for other kinds of spiritual practice, searching or reflection-- it's one of my most favorite and most private things to do. And there are many women artists-- Frida Kahlo, what's not to like?-- who I appreciate tremendously-- from Berthe Morrisot, Helen Morgenthaler and the tragic, perhaps underappreciated Camille Claudel (unfortunately the subject of one of the world's most boring French movies).

But there are also artists I adore-- Matisse, Klimt-- that give me a greater appreciation and understanding of female beauty and in fact, it is these great artists who can make you-- or anyone with half a brain-- see women as not as any kind of object or merely reflection of their own "male gaze," that favorite feminist saw. Rather they glorify the souls of their subjects.
Perhaps my favorite artist of all time is Van Gogh-- but its my identification with his suffering rather than his sex, which frankly means nothing to me.

As people who really inspire me right now-- Allison Anders may be my favorite filmmaker of all time, although she may not have as great a body of work as Truffaut, Spielberg, Howard Hawks, there are a lot of great filmmakers of all stripes whose work I love. It's funny though, I read an interview with Allison Anders-- which is what may have first really gotten me into her work-- because her first stuff--like Border Radio, which people loved--was fairly crude, by my standards, and I know this is blasphemy in certain circles, not that I won't blaspheme in ANY circle--but I was never into the whole X scene, and I sort of associated Border Radio with that LA punk vibe-- really, it took me a long time to even appreciate the Minutemen-- and I sort of came to it backwards, via my friendship with Mike Watt-- by the time these people all came along, I was a little more developed musically and not into that whole ilk. But anyway, I read an interview with Allison Anders, and the way she spoke about and related to music-- I almost thought I was reading about or hearing myself-- only these words were coming out of the mouth of a woman who grew up-- and is actually only 363 days younger than I am, though I think she's WAY more mature--maybe having a kid at 17 has something to do with it-- in practically Appalachia, in a completely different-you would think-- physical culture or aspect of the American landscape. And yet rock served very much the same purpose for her as it did for me-- which also involves coping with some very intense pain and personal tragedy. And she's been able to transform her own experience into some incredible art--I see things that other people may not even in her "flops," like Grace of My Heart-- but this is a whole other topic, which hopefully I'll get to explore in further depth at some other time. Things Behind the Sun-- which she didn't write, Kurt Voss did--but I think HE's best when he's channeling her-- is actually my favorite. I met her in Seattle, and did something I can't imagine myself ever doing to anyone else, which is literally kissing her hand, and calling her "Goddess." Of course, she acted as if she were very used to it.

As for musicians-- well of course, Joni Mitchell may be one of the most brilliant singer/songwriters of all time-- and also one of the bigger crackpots. And even though that "Shine" is utter shit, you can't take away her countless masterpieces-- any more than you can Mick Jagger and Keith Richards' or Paul McCartney's, no matter how dopey their latest rehashes-or excuses to go back out on the megatour-might be. Joan Armatrading has written some of my favorite songs. Jill Sobule, Amy Rigby, Lucinda Williams I love-- even though you might never hear it in my own music, and are not necessarily people who work within relatively the same genre I do, which will probably always be much more of a hard rock, maybe even metal-oriented thing. Though, really, I hate and resent labels of any kind. I think they're for lazy people-- and people who are lazy in a different way than I may occasionally be-- which has more to do with getting out of my bathrobe than anything else. It's not intellectual laziness. I just would rather waste less time getting dressed-- or UNdressed, as the case might be.
Joan Jett interests and fascinates and inspires me-- maybe just in terms of sheer work ethic-- more now than she ever did, for a whole variety of reasons. I remember talking to her, probably Kim Fowley set it up-- I don't even remember if the Runaways record had even been released-- and I just thought she was a snotty--well, I don't know if you could even call it snotty-- it was probably more just inarticulate-- punk kid. Cute, but not even that cute-- maybe it was just that she didn't seem all that bright. She seems much brighter now. But she was what, all of 15. I was maybe 19. I didn't think she was much of a musician, she didn't appreciate Fanny-- who I was very into, just musician-wise, at that point. I think the songs she wrote with Kathleen Hanna, which she's been playing for what, the last ten years now-- but then again, her whole thing is not really about doing new--or for that matter, even original, music-- and these are really some of the most original things she's done-- esp. because she's not re-writing Eddie Cochran--or the Who doing Eddie Cochran-- let's face it-- "Bad Reputation" is her "My Generation." But you what, you look at her audience-- and the people she's a role model for--who come to see her at the county fairs and chili cook offs where she gets a guarantee of $40,000 where some other oldies act like BOC gets $5,000-- along with the grandparents and kids and farmers and just the people who make America for you and me-- and it IS their "My Generation." And God bless her for it.


Q: As your bio says, you were a teenage drummer when you started writing about music. Can you speak a little bit about why you enjoy writing about music and how writing about music connects with playing music for you?

Deborah: Haha-- wasn't it some genius like Mark Twain who said no one but a fool enjoys writing I enjoy HAVING written. And then of course, you have to get up and do it all over again. There are moments when I get into the groove and really ENJOY writing. But it can be excruciating just to get to that point. I hate sitting in a chair. And there's no way to write, for me to write, anyway, without doing it. For a long, long time. Writing is also a very lonely, very isolating enterprise.

Playing I get to get up and jump around. And even occasionally meet some really cool people-- and I am basically, as I have realized fairly recently, a very social person even though I've also spent vast amounts-- and I mean years-- involved in this other very isolated thing and I really need to spend that time doing that in order to do it-- and not always for such tremendously great and/or rewarding results. But playing is the fun part-- when everything is going right. But it doesn't always. There's always the monitor that freaks out, or the note you or someone else misses. Some stupid person who throws something. Just some stupid something, in general. A zillion things. So I just live for the moments when it goes right. Because there is nothing, and I mean nothing, else like it. And nothing else-- no drug-- or any other kind of activity-- and believe me, I've tried most of 'em-- will do it. Like the stupid credit card ad that tries to define priceless. It's what's priceless. And you just try to hit it every time. And then-- you try again.

Q: Tell us about your band the Brain Surgeons, how the band formed, what you play, your role in the songwriting, etc. What are some of your songs that you are most proud of and what are the ones you think people who are new to the band should check out?

Deborah: Well, the Brain Surgeons are in a very funny place right now because unfortunately I am in the midst of a fairly horrendous divorce from my husband, who was also my creative collaborator since 1984-- even before we become romantically involved-- who is not only the father of my son, but someone I assumed would be my soulmate and dearest friend and partner for life. And there are a lot of things I can't really discuss because it's all a matter of litigation and just really ugly and unpleasant on every level. But when you are dealing with a narcissistic sick person who will never get help (and is therefore incapable of being cured) who would rather accuse everyone else of having some problem rather than accept any responsibility for ANYTHING, this is what you get. I can't even take it personally because he's done it before, unfortunately. And it's been much, much harder for my son than for me-- but only because I've been through a lot of tragedies-- and pretty early in my life. But you know what, basically I have the same relationship to the Brain Surgeons as Flaubert to Madame Bovary-- c'est moi. And I've written a lot of great songs-- and I will continue to do so-- it's funny, that I think some of the greatest, and perhaps our most cohesive album, Denial of Death, was written during a particularly terrible time-- and I can't believe I wrote a song like "Plague of Lies" which I thought I was writing about someone and something else, and is all too unfortunately the story of my life. There are some great songs on that album, like "Strange Like Me"-- which was funny, cause Albert said, "I can't believe how you wrote that song about me. You got me to a T"-and I said, "You? I'm not talking about YOU, it's about me!" "Lady of the Harbor" is a really good song, in its last incarnation-- I actually recorded it and re-wrote it maybe twice. "Medusa" on Trepanation, the second album, is a really good song-- though I re-did it again, the way we did it live, on Beach Party-- but I did the vocal in like 2 seconds and I wish I did it again. Now that's a song I actually started when I was like 15, after reading Edith Hamilton- and thought Medusa, now there's a song. But I didn't get around to finishing it for decades. That's just the way it works sometimes. In the Brain Surgeons-- well, at the beginning, there might have been a couple of songs I didn't write-- there were some Meltzer or Patti Smith things, probably rejected by Blue Oyster Cult for good reason! Just joking, sometimes the demo might not have been too persuasive or someone else had to get a song in or there was some producer trying to turn them into the Cars for a moment (oh, that was GREAT idea) or maybe they thought they SHOULD be the Cars for a moment, or someone at a record company did. Who knows? Hey, they should thank their lucky stars they didn't stick around long enough on a major to let themselves bend over and try to be turned into Hootie and the Blowfish!

Q: As a woman who has been involved in the music scene for many years both as a musician and a journalist, how has the music landscape changed for women since you were a teenager? Every woman I've talked to still seems some degree of sexism in the industry, but in your point of view what challenges are still out there and what has gotten easier?

Deborah: The industry-- it deserves to die. See Hootie and the Carfish, above. I know for myself, the internet, which I've been involved with since it coincided with my putting out my first albums through my own company in 93/94, though I've really been involved with independent music-- and putting out other people's stuff one way or another since the Punk scene of the early 70s (which by the way-I don't consider the Ramones, or the Sex Pistols-CBGB-thing--or even pre-CBGB, the Dolls-- the FIRST punk thing-- to me it was the MC5, Iggy.) But you know what, ELVIS was a punk-- who was just exploited by a carny barker. The Beatles were punks, REAL punks in Hamburg. And you know what, even Mick Jagger- though he probably always had the same dreams at the London School of Economics as Jann Wenner had at prep school in Switzerland and that's how they all eventually end up on basically the same beach together--even he was a punk. For a minute. But anyway, the internet has allowed me to cut out the middleman- and the gatekeeper. Though I'm sure they'll all figure out how to put up new gates and new middles, because people who only want to make money always figure out how to do it-- whether it's in hedge funds or derivatives or turning record companies and book publishers into mere cogs in some rental car magnate or real estate developer's or Australian news baron's "empire." That's just how it works. It's also allowed me to do a certain kind of very simple market research-- which of course, no one who went to business school would actually be trained and or have any interest in doing, because that's all about turning things into formulas and science and cookie-cutting. But basically, what it also tells me is that what most of these industry assholes-- like the Jason Floms, with his father on the Time Warner Board, who actually got lucky with his Hootie or Skid Rows or Wingers (and where are they all now) for a minute once told me--"There are too many girls on this label"-- and all kinds of other shit that Joan Jett still goes on about hearing from the 23 labels who rejected her in when was it, 1981-- and then went on-- even if it took three years, to have a number one multi-platinum album that is still selling and more important, is still wonderful and MEANINGFUL today-- or that such and such is not "what the kids want." Well it tells me what I've felt in my own gut all along, that these people are full of shit. Rock is not about what kids want, any more than any other art form is about what old people or anybody else wants to buy or have shoved down their throat. Art-- of all kinds-- whether it's making music or tattooing something you feel is beautiful on your or anyone else's skin-- or trying to communicate something you feel passionate about and may or may not articulate something that someone else feels but can't quite figure out how to say in his or her own words fills a very important and very basic human need. And people who are driven to make it will always figure out how to do it-- whether they have to paint it on a cave or weave it into a basket. This is how we try to express ourselves and how we COMMUNICATE with other people who may not necessarily speak the same language.

As for sexism, I had to put up with all kinds of crap-- and so did everyone who was a pioneer, whether they were trying to cover the White House or baseball-- places where they wouldn't let in Black people with dicks for however many years. But that's their problem. In terms of music, guys-- whether Led Zeppelin or Metallica have had the privilege of saying "Fuck 'em all" for years. Now more women-- simply by virtue of having their own record companies or developing their own audiences-- and Joan Jett is a prime example-- or even the Donnas--and I think they are great, as is their management-- can say fuck em all too (although they all actually say it relatively nicely). I don't know whether this is progress. But the point is, women have own money to spend--although in this economy, they may soon have less of it. But also kids have grown up in a different environment. The Donnas or Joan Jett have as many guy as girl fans. It's not an issue to these people. Joan Jett may have a message--or be communicating Paul Westerberg's-in something like "Androgynous" (which is, in some ways one of the least hard rock but most interesting things she's ever done) or in her own "Change the World." But the world is changing-- the western world, anyway. If not fast enough. In other places, women are still forced behind walls and burkhas. And the men want to keep it that way. So they don't have to improve their own game. You really have to look at the much bigger picture.

Q: What is next for you? Any upcoming projects we can look forward to either listening to or reading?

Deborah: What is next for me? Ask the judge in my divorce case!! All I can say is you'll be seeing and hearing a lot from me--probably on your local corner singing and dancing with a little styrofoam cup and I'll try to have a very nice sign. I don't know. Read my lips.

Q: I always ask two standard questions of my Women Who Rock. The first one is a two-parter. What was the first album you bought and the first concert you attended?

Deborah: Obviously I remember a single I had when I was 3-I guess I didn't buy it.
I don't really remember the first album I bought. I remember going to Korvette's..getting a whole bunch of records--like Otis Redding.

And I have no idea what was the first rock concert I went to.I went to clubs before I went to concerts--and I'm still much more into experiencing music in an intimate setting--of course, I've seen a lot of people most people later see in concerts very early on--sometimes I've been like the only person in the audience--or the audient, as I like to call it-- Springsteen, the Police, Tom Petty, Pearl Jam, Courtney Love- the Cars-- there are people I've been the first person here to write about-like PJ Harvey--but that's not because I'm into any trend--in fact I hate them-- I am totally non-trendy.

But I am into music--and what is gonna turn ME on.Actually, I basically hate concerts--for me, it's always been work, not fun, even if I have a backstage pass or I'm literally on the side of the stage while people who really know what they're doing-- like Jimmy Page or Robert Plant or the guys in Metallica-- are on. Look, it's weird to me to go to a concert w/out a notebook-- but then again, I was a professional rock critic when I was still a teenager-- and not be scribbling more notes than most people will ever do in any class-- but I was also a very good notetaker, and a great student, in the traditional sense, when I wanted to be. But I've very, very rarely gone to a concert for ENTERTAINMENT, per se. And if I get off, that's even better. I have rarely, almost never, in my life, bought a ticket for one. I don't go to parades either. I hate crowds. They're not a lot of fun for a small person. But that's not necessarily what provides me w/ a sense of community--which is why I think alot of other people, particularly young people who desperately want to feel a part of SOMEthing--go to them. They have a different kind of experience--and motivation--than I do. I would always rather be creating something or trying to learn how to better create it. There's nothing I enjoy MORE than just being able to be a fan-- and when I am, you will see me right up there in the front, non-stop dancing. It makes me so happy to be able to do that. But there aren't too many artists who make me want to-- and it's usually some kind of inspired occasion. Like the Rock Hall of Fame at the Waldorf. Hey, I was even rockin out to Lynyrd Skynrd. And I caught the glass slide!

Q: My other standard question is what was your biggest rock star moment? Maybe it was a concert you performed or one you saw or maybe it was someone you met or a time you just got the celebrity treatment.

Deborah: Honey, I've been getting celebrity treatment all of my life-- and I think I deserve it!
I met John Lennon when I was, what 16-- Robert Plant has driven me through the Alps. I've had a really wild life-- and there are things I've gotten to do just with my family that are just in completely different realms and they've been amazing experiences that I cherish and would rather keep to myself. I appreciate the highs cause the downs... believe me, they've been pretty horrendous, as bad as it gets. But OK, if I had to pick a rock experience-- no, it was not the day I saved Cher's life and every time since when I hear her horrendous, even pitch corrected bleating, I have only myself to blame--but that was really a gym moment, not a rock one. I would have to say when I went to Wrestlemania with Cyndi Lauper and hung out with Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant and Mohammed Ali and my total, total idol, the Fabulous Moolah, that was pretty cool. She invited me to come to her wrestling camp, I still have the card-- but I was afraid I'd get too black & blue--what a wimp. But really the topper was when Liberace, who was a very sweet man, let me put on his gold diamond encrusted piano ring. Now that was fun.

See, as promised, an amazingly in depth and insightful interview. I want to say thank you so much to Deborah for spending her time answering these questions so thoroughly. I also love that someone I admire so much also believes that punk began with Iggy and MC5. And yeah, Wrestlemania with Cyndi Lauper??? Definitely one of the coolest rock star moments that has been shared so far. So what did Deborah get you thinking about? Leave a comment about it and be entered to win a signed copy of the Brain Surgeons album Denial of Death!

See ya next Wednesday with our fictional guests, Emily and Regan!

8:51 PM - 10 Comments - 18 Kudos - Add Comment

Bar Fight

Warning: this blog is kinda all over the place and I doubt it makes a coherent point because it's still so fresh, but I still had to share...

The night before last I had a dream that my brother got mugged at gun point. It freaked the hell out of me and when I woke up I wanted to talk about it, but I was in Michigan with my mom and I figured if I told her about it, it would just freak her out. No reason to get her worried over nothing. I went to the hotel gym and worked out and felt better. Strange tension tends to linger with me when I have dreams like that. Not that I think that exact thing is going to come true or anything, but it feels like a bad omen or something. But as the day went on, the tension dissipated. I indulged in my once yearly Starbucks latte (I avoid caffiene because of my insomnia, but when Pumpkin Spice coffee comes out, I have to have it once). Mom and I drove back to Chicago. We stopped at a farm and bought apples and pumpkins. I got home just in time for the White Sox game. The Sox won. The game ended literally the minute I had to go to work. I was hopeful that this Sunday night wouldn't be dead because people would be in the bar watching the game and people would stop by the bar after the game. In other words, I thought it would be a good night. I'd completely forgotten about potential bad omens.

It was dead but not bad at first. Three of my favorite regular customers were in there. We just talked music and baseball. A few people filtered in who'd been at the game. We talked more baseball and watched the Red Sox/Angels game. Scott's sister Kelly texted me saying she and some friends might come in. I told her, yes, please!!! I knew my regulars would be leaving soon and I would be bored and potentially have to deal with being alone with the weirdo customers like Creepy Al and Napkin Note Guy. About thirty minutes later I was wishing for those weirdos because while they may be a little off, I know they are harmless. Suddenly I was faced with unknown crazies and I had no idea what the hell they might do.

Crazy 1 came in as my second to last regular, Dave, was leaving. At first I thought Crazy 1 was just a slightly inebriated White Sox fan. He had a green Sox hat on and he was clearly excited about the game but then immediately apologized for being excited. I assumed he thought it was a Cubs bar (despite the decor making it quite clear that it's not), so I assured him that we were all Sox fans here. Then he started talking. For almost ten minutes. Without shutting up. Even when he asked me questions. And he also had this really irritating laugh. At first it reminded me of Woody Woodpecker. But the more he creeped me out, the more it reminded me of Heath Ledger's Joker laugh. I couldn't help but think, this man brings bad things. Bad things.

He babbled about his grandfather who'd been an orphan selling peanuts at Comiskey Park. He told me he'd grown up in La Grange, that he was 46, a liberal, blah blah blah. He asked me where I was from and what I did. I told him. A few minutes later he asked me again. He told me to talk so he could stop talking. I didn't know what to say and didn't really want to engage in a lengthy conversation and besides it was clear he was not listening, so I was unusually quiet and he kept talking anyway. At first I just stood back and observed. I theorized that he was manic depressive, off his meds, in a manic phase. Or he was on coke. Or both. I'm writing a character like this. I've been stuck and a horoscope which I'd just read told me not to give up on a project that I'd get new insight. Here was my new insight.

I got sick of observing quickly. I walked away when I realized that he'd keep talking without even noticing I wasn't listening. I got Pat his last beer, started talking baseball with him. Crazy 1 latched on to the conversation. Then he got into an argument with Pat who was definitely intoxicated himself at this point and when he is, he gets loud and argumentative, but never scary so I just let it go. They argued about how much of a difference having Ozzie Guillen as a manager made for the Sox. It got loud, I got irritated, but I knew Pat would leave soon and then I would tell Crazy that the bar was closing and send him on his way, only to reopen of course when Scott's sister got there.

I went into the kitchen to text Kelly to show up. I hear the front door open and rush to the end of the bar to meet my new sane customer. Turns out he is a co-worker of Kelly's, a bartender. He knows and understands my pain. So we start talking. Pat leaves. I decided to go with my "ignore them until they go away" approach that I usually use on Napkin Note Guy and Creepy Al wherein I simply talk to the normal sane customer, ignore the empty beer in front of the wacko customer until they leave out of frustration. I know this is a passive aggressive approach, but I am a girl who works at a bar alone. No bouncer. No owner. No other bartender. Just me. I don't want to get into shit with a drunk, particularly one I suspect has some other mental health issues. I have thrown unruly drunks out before, but there have always been more people in the bar when I did it. People like Pat who I know will have my back. He and another regular physically took someone out to a cab for me once. Or in another case, the other guy was a known quantity. He'd come in too drunk to be served regularly. I knew other bartenders had no qualms throwing him out and I knew he wouldn't be too resistant. When it's an unknown quantity like Crazy 1, I don't want confrontation.

It seemed like my plan might work, but then more customers came in: Paul, a guy I went to high school with, who I consider a friend. Kelly and two of her friends. But close on their heels is the person we will dub Crazy 2. He sits down next to Paul. Seeing that Paul is not pleased by being engaged with him, I invite Paul down to the other end of the bar to meet Kelly. Paul tells me I need to keep an eye on Crazy 2 because he seems to be messed up, probably on something, possibly grieving, and he's got a lot of expensive jewelry and shit on. Possibly he's a dealer or affiliated with other unsavory shit that I don't want in my bar. And I can't help but think of my dream with the gun... I'm highly uncomfortable. Paul and I agree that there is too much crazy in the bar. Things are unbalanced.

But Crazy 2 is being ignored so he seems inclined to go away, unfortunately before I realized he was a bit off, I opened a tab for him, so I have to stop him when he is about to leave and make him pay it. While I am running his card, he starts talking to Kelly and her friends and to Crazy 1. He's touching Kelly more than I feel is appropriate. Then he won't leave. Crazy 1 gets him outside. It looks like there might be an altercation between the two of them. We lock the door behind them, which would have solved all of my problems, but there is an issue : Kelly's friends are outside. Eventually when the Crazies get away from the door, I tell Kelly to get her friends and they can all go smoke in the beer garden. Katie, another bartender comes in at this point. Paul and I explain the situation to her. Crazy 2 leaves so thinkgs seem resolved. Paul goes out to the beer garden to smoke. Moments later he comes back to alert me that Crazy 2 is back.

"Shit what do I do? Lock the door again?" I ask.

Paul has bartended before, he's been in unfortunate situations. He says, "Somebody's gotta stand up to him and tell him to leave."

I know this somebody is me. So I go to the door before Crazy 2 enters. I cross my arms over my chest and summon all my inner strength, pretending I'm bigger than I am. "You can't come back in here. I've cut you off. You need to leave." I tell him firmly.

"I will, but you just need to understand my pain," he whines.

"I understand, but now I need you to get off of my doorstep and leave."

"No you don't understand..."

There is a back and forth, but he is backing down. All would have been fine except Crazy 1 has to try to intervene. "Let me talk to him."

I whirl around, furious that he is interfering when I have almost diffused the situation. "NO!" I roar. "You are not talking to him. He is leaving. I've cut him off and he has to go! If you don't like it, leave with him. If you want to talk to him, leave with him!"

Crazy 1 objects. Crazy 2 tries to push his way into the bar. I stand in his way. I continue to yell until Crazy 2 ambles off. Crazy 1 wanders back over to his beer muttering to himself about how I am completely unfair and off base. I tell him, "Listen, I work here and I am in charge and I handled things the way I needed to handle them. You can either sit down and be quiet and finish your beer or you can leave too."

He chooses option 1. I will realize in about 15 minutes I should not have given him an option. On TV or in the movies when there is a hostage situation or big heist, the cops will always say something like, "We don't negotiate with terrorists." Well, bartenders of the world, our stock line needs to be, "We don't negotiate with crazies."

I thought Crazy 1 had calmed down. I went back to talking to my normal sane customers. Paul gave me pointers about how to keep my emotions in check in such a situation (he suggested tightly crossing my arms over my body the whole time). I made small talk with Katie. Then I noticed there was trouble brewing at the end of the bar. Crazy 1 was arguing with Kelly.

I didn't know how it started but I found out later that Crazy 1 had continued mumbling, talking shit about how our generation didn't understand the sacrifices made by the rest of humanity and we were worthless and living off our parents. Kelly's friend Aaron was getting pissed by this and made a remark about how he was about to punch the guy. Kelly, knowing I didn't want to deal with more shit, decided to stand between the two of them to diffuse the situation. It didn't work.

When I approached, I head Kelly say something along the lines of "Knock if off or I'm gonna hit you." And then Crazy 1 said, "I don't care if you're a girl, I'll hit you."

Yeah. Not okay. On so many levels.

1. We've all heard the Pink song U + Ur Hand. Perhaps if you are a girl you have also lived that song. I know I have and that is exactly why as a women, I make a point to assure that women aren't fucked with in my bar. If I see a drunk guy hitting on a girl or being generally obnoxious, I check with the woman and see if they want me to send the guy on his merry way. I've only had to kick out one guy because of this at the Beacon since it is not the type of place where that kind of crap happens, but still. That is my general policy. Intimidate or harass a woman in any way and you are gone.

2. Kelly is not just any woman. Kelly is my friend. Nobody fucks with my friends in my bar.

3. Kelly is not just my friend. She is my boyfriend's sister. My boyfriend and I have been dating for almost three years. My boyfriend is "the one," which basically means his sister is my sister. And I've always wanted a sister and think Kelly makes a great sister, so you really really don't fuck with my sister in my bar.

So I run around to the other side of the bar and get in between Kelly and Crazy 1. Kelly doesn't want me there. She wants to fend for herself which I get, but I think she also got that it is my bar, I'm in charge, I have to handle it. I tell Crazy that he needs to go. He, of course, claims that it is not his fault, she started it. Then he goes into his crazy rant about my generation being worthless and the downfall of all humanity. He punctuates the rant with his crazy Heath Ledger Joker laugh. I am not dealing with this shit. "You are insulting me and my customers. You leave now or I call the cops," I shout over him.

He continues with his crazy babble and tries to assert that I shouldn't be making the rules. With my arms crossed over my chest per Paul, I back Crazy toward the door, repeating over and over, "This is my bar. I am in charge here. You leave or I call the cops."

Eventually after much verbal abuse and creepy laughter I get the guy out the door and lock it. I feel accomplished for about ten seconds. Then I see that Kelly's co-worker and her one guy friend are holding back her other guy friend. We will call him Backwards Baseball Hat Guy. That is what Paul would call him later when we were recounting the situation and it fits. I don't have many stereotypes in life, but I do have one for white guys who wear backwards baseball hats. They are the frat boy types. They remind me of beer pong and date rape and Limp Bizkit and the resurgence of stupid cock rock. They are dudes who get into fights in bars for no reason other than they love fighting. They love fighting and they love recounting their sexual conquests. And this guy was totally one of those guys. Later after things calmed down, he sat there talking about his bar fights and telling how he didn't just have one night stands, he didn't even close out his tab at the bar, he'd just take the girl home, fuck her, and then come back and finish drinking. I walked away when he was about to account his "best blowjob" story. Yeah. No. This not the type of person we usually have at the Beacon and I am damn proud of that. I intentionally avoid drinking at and would never ever work at the kind of bar that does cater to that type. Their mindless sexism irritates me as a woman and I'm irritated by them as a bartender because they are amateurs. They think they can can hold their liquor and they can't. They don't know how to tip and worst of all, they bring drama. Which is exactly what Backwards Baseball Hat Guy did.

He wanted to go out and kick Crazy's ass. Never mind that I said, "No, he's gone and that's all that matters." Never mind that Kelly said, "No, chill out. This is my sister's bar." (And I admittedly had a moment where I flashed out of the drama and got all giddy and was like cool, she thinks of me as a sister, too!) Never mind that his two more sober and a-million-times-cooler-in-my-book buddies were like, "No." Nope, he runs out the back door and there is a fight in the street in front of the bar.

We all rush outside. Kelly is screaming at me to get her phone and call a certain guy who is a local cop. Katie is screaming at me that she is going to call the cops. I run in, get Kelly's phone, tell Katie to hold on a second and call Kelly's friend. Voicemail. I tell Katie to go ahead and call the cops. I go outside to try to get Kelly inside because I don't want her to get hurt or get in trouble.

I don't recall exactly how the situation got diffused. When I ran back outside, two of Kelly's friends were restraining Crazy 1. Kelly was standing in front of him with her heels off. I had a flashback to my last almost bar fight. I was in LA. Some dudes were talking shit to a friend of mine. I was drunk and I took off my shoes threatening to beat their asses with them. It was ridiculous. The dudes ended up leaving. The guy I was defending that night ended up being a total asshole who, a year later would let some chick he was dating seriously beat up one of my best friends. Just another reminder that your drinking buddies are not always real friends.

But anyway. I think I told them that we were calling the cops. I think I yelled at Kelly to get inside. Her friends let the guy go. They all followed me inside. I grabbed the phone from Katie and told the cops that the situation had been resolved. The lady on the phone was really nice and said to call back if there were any further problems.

I didn't kick Backward Baseball Hat Guy out. Normally I would have, but since he was with Kelly... But I did call her today and told her not to bring that guy back. The other two guys are totally welcome because they were cool and worked really hard to actually calm the situation, but not him. Yeah, I would understand it if he wanted to kick Crazy's ass because he was drunkenly defending Kelly. I wanted to kick Crazy's ass for that and I was stone sober. But BBHG really just wanted a fight. This was proven by his numerous explanations to me that he was going to take the guy across the street so it wouldn't affect me. Um, yeah, maybe that works at the Madison Street bars he normally frequents where the police can't tell which bar the brawl spilled out off, but there aren't a bunch of other bars near the Beacon. It affects me because my bar is not that kind of bar. Also, why fight when you don't actually have to. Not that I bothered asking him that because he would have no idea what I meant.

I spent the rest of the night keyed up and shaking and replaying scenarios in my head. Considering the places where I fucked up. I should have thrown Crazy 1 out sooner. I just suck at being the bad guy. I don't like being an authority figure and no one takes me seriously as an authority figure because I'm female. These are two issues I'm going to have to struggle to get past. If my gut tells me not to give someone the benefit of the doubt, I have to trust my gut and just not serve them or ask them to leave as soon as I realize they could cause a problem. And I shouldn't hesitate to call the police. I hesitate because of my inner teenage punk girl who views the cops as more likely to harm than to protect. I think that somehow I will get into trouble, the bar will get into trouble, etc. Also I just suck at asking for help period. I want to handle situations on my own. I want to be strong. And you know what, I did handle those situations on my own and I did a good job. Both situations would have been much more minor if some stupid guy hadn't decided he needed to interfere. Like when Crazy 1 interfered with Crazy 2 or when Backwards Baseball Hat Guy decided he needed vigilante justice. Honestly I think that is what upset me the most about the night. I wasn't so much freaked that maybe someone could have had a weapon and things could have gotten uglier (even though that was constantly on my mind because of my dream and also because well, when I was getting crazy drunk and hanging out with crazy drunks in my late teens/early twenties we all were carrying knives or switchblades or something), more than anything I was pissed because people kept jumping in and making shit worse instead of letting me handle the situation.

Yeah, okay, so I say that and I act strong, but part of me still feels fucking weak. Crazy 1 showed up at the bar again about forty-five minutes before close. I told him to get the fuck out or I'd call the cops. He gave his little Joker laugh and said, "No you won't." I chased him out of the bar with him laughing and giving me the finger the whole way. I felt humiliated. Part of me wanted to grab him, knock his ass down and hold him there and tell someone else to call 911 just to get him arrested. But I know it wouldn't have done any good. Creepy Al was in there by that point and he kept telling me repeatedly, "Don't take it personally," explaining that Crazy had been kicked out of Circle Inn earlier as well. And I wasn't taking it personally that he was crazy. I wasn't thinking he'd singled me out. But I still hate feeling weak and humiliated. I really do.

Anyway, so that was my Sunday night. It was stressful to say the least. I know other bartenders have dealt with worse, but this was the worst shit I've been through thus far. But now I feel like I've been through some sort of rite of passage. It will make me a better bartender and as my friend Polly put it, it's all material. I'll take that situation, dial it up to 11 and make it part of the climax for my next novel.....

4:35 AM - 8 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

Women Who Rock Wednesday: Liz Adams!

Before we get to the main event, I want to mention a couple of things:

1. I'm sorry if my blogs and responses to people are little more sporadic than usual. I'm still struggling to find the magical balance in my life that allows me enough time to write. Currently my solution to said problem is to just disappear for a day or two, ignore everything and write. I'm also as usual totally backlogged when it comes to replying to emails and comments and blog interview requests, etc. I promise you that I will get to these as soon as humanly possible. I try to reply to each and every one of you in some form or another, but it might just take some time, I hope you understand.

2. I did do an interview with Gaper's Block this week, which you can read here!

3. I'm headed to Detroit on Friday where I will be going to a trade show and doing a reading on Saturday, October 4th at 4 pm at the Barnes and Noble in Royal Oak, MI at 5oo S. Main St. And I hope to see all my Michigan area friends and fans there as I'm not sure when I'll get out to the area next!

4. I have a cool Women Who Rock Weds announcement, but I'm making it at the end of today's interview, so make sure to read all the way to the end of this blog!

Okay, now without further adieu, welcome to Women Who Rock Wednesday, the day of the week that I celebrate amazing women and highlight the cool creative things they do on my blog! Each week I introduce you to a fabulous creative lady who rocks my world and give out a prize to a random commenter. Last week we hosted one of my favorite authors, Cecil Castellucci, who agreed to give out a signed copy of her book, BEIGE. The lucky winner chosen at random from across my three blogs is Lovelessangel93 from LiveJournal!!! I will pass your address on to Cecil!

This week, I am excited to bring you an artist whose work I hope to fill my house with someday, Liz Adams! I discovered Liz's artwork when I picked up the book CHERRY BOMB by Carrie Borzillo-Vrenna, our first WWRW featured author. Liz did the illustrations for CHERRY BOMB (an example is on the left) and I thought they were so unique that I went to her website to learn more about her. I found that she'd done lots of illustrations in magazines and newspapers from Teen Magazine to Seattle Weekly and had her designs on things from notecards to skate decks such as this one: Basically her art just makes me squee and sigh and I had to share her with you. So introducing, Liz Adams!

Q: Liz, I came across your amazing art by seeing your illustrations in Carrie Borzillo-Vrenna's book, CHERRY BOMB. That's one of your latest projects, but can you tell us about how you got started as an artist? Your style is very unique, who are some of your art-world influences (whether they are known artists or teachers, friends, or parents)? Also I'm a writer, but music heavily influences my stories, what are some of your inspirations outside of the art-world?

Liz: Ever since I was really little, I was drawing and making stuff. In middle school I started getting into comics and made my own really dumb ones. In high school I did little zines and found art class to be the only bearable thing about school. I was an art major in college and mostly took sculpture classes. After graduating I moved from Phoenix to Los Angeles and got a job as a photo retoucher. I didn't really know what I wanted to do or how to get professional work as an artist. The whole time I was drawing in my sketchbooks a lot and I started painting. I also had a design job and when we needed illustrations I would do them, and it was exciting. This gave me a few portfolio pieces to start promoting with. I made a website, sent out postcards, and tried to make new work whenever I could. It took about six months to get my first real client and it snowballed from there.

Growing up in Tucson, Arizona was a huge influence on me artistically. I spent a lot of time outdoors when I was little. The desert landscape and animals made a huge impression on me. Other influences come from growing up in the 80s', animals, animation, comics and video games. I've always thought female musicians were so cool and spent most of high school and college playing drums in an all-girl band, so music is also a huge influence.

There are a ton of people who inspire me. The list includes John Waters, Maila Nurmi, Joan Miro, Gary Panter, and Lynda Barry to name a few. In college, I was very inspired by my professor Ron Gasowski who taught a folk/outsider art class.

Q: How did you come to work on CHERRY BOMB? What was it like collaborating with Carrie and how do you feel about the final product?

Liz: Carrie was awesome to work with. From what I understand, she put together a list of a few illustrators and submitted it to Simon & Schuster. I was recommended to her by a couple of people she knew. After I was chosen and contacted by the publisher, Carrie invited me to her house to meet and talk about the book. We looked at all the cool stuff in her closet so I could have more of idea of what her character would look like. I felt like we were on the same page about all of the illustrations. I'm not the most fashionable person, but I like fashion and I like drawing cute girls—especially 'rock chicks'—so this project was a good fit. I am really happy with how it turned out and I hope to collaborate with Carrie again sometime.

Q:Do you think you will do more book illustration in the future? What are some of your upcoming projects?

Liz: I hope so! It was fun to tackle a larger project. I am working on a couple ideas for childrens' books right now. One is about a tiny dog that thinks it's a wild beast. The other is about a girl and a magical bunny.

Q: I know from experience that it's hard to grow up a creative soul in this world, but lots of young, creative folks read this blog. Can you share some words of wisdom about being an artist with them?

Liz: My advice would be to put in as much time as you can to your art. I have always been pretty good at this because I don't have much of a social life (hehehe). I think learning to promote is almost as important as making the work itself. Being persistent and patient pays off, and though being patient is sometimes torture.

Q: I love the images of women and girls in your work and find them very empowering. Do you consider yourself a feminist? Are there reasons why you create the images of women that you do?

Liz: Yes I do. Ever since I was little I've looked up to women who did their own thing, so I'm sure that's big part of it. Besides that, I think of my personal work as a way of escaping everyday life. I kind of live vicariously through the characters I create so it just seems natural to make up nerdy, badass superhero girls with capes who play instruments and are BFFs with pterodactyls.

Q: I always ask two standard questions of my Women Who Rock. What was the first album you bought and the first concert you attended? Be honest, we don't judge.

Liz: Umm...I think the first tape I asked my parents to buy me was either a Debbie Gibson or Tiffany tape when I was pretty little.

I think one of the first concerts I went to was Green Day at the state fair with some friends. I was fourteen. All I remember is that I lied and said I was 12 to get kids admission price and thought I was such a rebel.

Q: Please dish about the moment where you felt most like a rock star. Maybe it was an art opening you did to or a moment of big success in your career, an "I'm Not Worthy!" Wayne's World type moment where you met someone cool, or a time where you just got the rock star treatment. Or maybe it was an unusual rock star moment, like the one Cecil Castellucci tells about here.

Liz: I think it would have to be about three years ago when I landed a job with my first big client Teen Magazine. At that point I had been promoting for about a year and had mostly done work for obscure publications and bands. I was working as a fine art printer at the time and sneaked a peak at my email at work. I saw the message in my inbox and couldn't believe it. I then hid in the bathroom and danced around until I could calm down. Illustrating for the teen market was one of the first goals I set for myself. At the time, it seemed like such a lofty goal, and when it happened it was exciting. I now illustrate for them on a regular basis, and it's opened a lot of doors for me. That may not be 'Rock Star' to most people, but for me, it was pretty awesome.

Q: They say pictures can speak a thousand words and I personally see stories in your artwork. Can you share one of the pieces you are most proud of and tell us what story it tells to you?

Liz: I often don't paint or draw with a specific story in mind. Usually I think of a theme and work within that framework. I like to make everything pretty optimistic and whimsical. Usually the characters are having a good time, or if they are a character facing an obstacle, I like the impression to be that they would overcome that. The final product often looks like a part of the story, but it sometimes isn't quite that literal.

That being said, things going on in my life do inspire stories in paintings. One example I can use is my painting, "Baby Alien Rescue":

For a few years I was balancing my freelance work with my full time job. After a while it just got to be too much. I was so afraid to leave my steady job and take a risk. Eventually I did and all of the stress I was having at the time kind of went into this painting. I felt like this little character looking for something in the dark on a strange planet. She finds it, but there's a huge, dumb monster lurking so It's hard to say if she'll make it back to her ship in time. I'd like to think that she will.

It's awesome to know what Liz put into this painting, but now I would like the blog readers to comment on what story they see in "Baby Alien Rescue" and next week I'll choose a random commentor to win a grab bag of Liz Adams items including this original mini-drawing (2.5 x 3.5):
As usual, the contest winner will be announced next Wednesday when I host Deborah Frost of the amazing band Brain Surgeons! Now for the big Women Who Rock Wednesday annoucement, I promised!

As many of you know the week of October 12th is Teen Read Week so I thought we should do something fun and fictional on Wednesday October 15th. It's been over a year since I've revisited my characters from I WANNA BE YOUR JOEY RAMONE, but I think it would be fun to do so. If you wanted to know more about the story and characters of IWBYJR, now is your chance because I am going to let you interview Emily Black and Regan Parker of She Laughs. Hey, they are women who rock, right? Even if they are made up. So you can leave your questions as comments to this blog or email them to me at stephanie at stephaniekuehnert dot com with the subject Question for Emily or Question for Regan. I'll choose about seven or eight questions from the ones I get by October 12th and post them up for the WWRW on the 15th. I think this is a fun idea and I hope you do too because I can't do this without your input!!!

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Ah, the Beacon, the Good, the Bad, the WTF

Today I'm over at the Teen Fiction Cafe discussing my love for fall, sharing photos of old Halloween costumes and congratulating my brother Dan for officially becoming a lawyer (he passed his bar, yay!) today. Go check it out here!

So, I've been back at the Beacon for slightly over a month now and I figured it was time for me to catalog some observations since I've been back. I think they fit into three categories: the good, the bad, and the WTF.

Good

• I'm happy to be hanging out with my regulars again. (Except for the one that was an obnoxious drunk last Saturday, got cut off by the owner and decided to walk out without paying or tipping and has yet to apologize to me. Even if you don't remember the details, you know you walked out on your tab and therefore didn't tip because you had to pay the tab the next time you came in. Would it hurt to apologize?) I've also got some new regulars who I really like, too. Including, oddly enough a woman who has to be in her sixties or seventies. We had a really great conversation about cats when she came in one Thursday for lunch and now she comes in every Thursday for lunch. I like that this job enables me to meet and talk to people I would not normally think I'd hit it off with.
• The stories. It's great to be surrounded by stories. I've already heard some good ones. Like a regular who told me that in her one hitchhiking experience, she and her friend were picked up by John Wayne Gacy. Supposedly he even had some of his clown garb on and warned them about hitchhiking. This woman was like, "If I'd been a boy, I would have been dead." It's hard to know if this is actually true because, well... alcohol... but the time period as well as the neighborhood in Chicago is accurate so who knows. Either way, now it is material. Ohhh there is so much more material at a bar than at an office!

• Tipping is not a city in China. People who don't know how to tip are now the bane of my existence again. I am a firm believer that everyone should be required to work in the service industry at some point so they learn how to treat servers. People who don't tip at all are the biggest assholes. Like the other day I had this guy who gave me a dollar more than what cover the cost of his beer. Like it was 4.50 and he gave me 6$. Generally when this occurs, it is implied that the dollar and the change is mine. So I put this in my tip jar. When I walked past the guy again, he snapped at me, "Where is my change!" So I apologized, tried to explain my confusion and gave him the 1.50$ back. He didn't leave me a tip at all. I suppose I was being punished. Ugh. But the people that also irritate me are the people who are really cheap with their tips. It is pretty universal that you tip $1 per drink if you are getting good service (and I am good server, prompt, friendly, etc). If you've been in the service industry, think your bartender rocks or want to be their friend in hopes of a free drink here and there, you tip more than that. Now, I have a few retiree-aged folks who come in, drink a few beers and only leave a buck or two. They are on a limited budget and they are drinking the cheap bottled beer. They are also regulars and very friendly to me, so this rule does not apply. But Mr. and Ms. Twenty and Thirtysomething who are ordering the expensive cocktails and microbrews, you should be tipping more than fifty freakin' cents. Seriously!
• Cha-cha-changes.... I used to have nightmares that I went back to the Beacon and it was this hip, clean, up-to-date yuppie bar with all this food I had to make and didn't understand and a new-fangled computer system and yuppie customers who didn't tip. Well, it's not that bad, but there have been changes at the Beacon. There's a beer garden, which is cool, but kind of screws me because either there is no waitress and I'm running myself ragged going out to take drink orders, making them and taking care of the regular bar. Or there is a waitress and I'm still run ragged making all the drinks but I don't have to carry them outside however, I lose out on the majority of the tips. I can't win. Also there is an expanded menu. I have to cook this food, the majority of it being disgusting meat products, and the people who order food for the most part don't seem to get that I'm making their food, I'm bringing it to them, I'm making their drinks and bringing them to them and I have the rest of the bar to deal with. And then they tip me like they would a waitress.... Ugh.

• To continue in the vein of people who for some reason now seem to think of the Beacon as a restaurant rather than a bar that happens to have food so if you start drinking early and forget to eat dinner you can be accomodated.... Yesterday a women came in with her four and six year old boys. Yes. A woman brought her kids to the bar. Then she proceeded to ask me what we had to drink for kids, while her obnoxious little rugrats (I like kids, don't get me wrong, but when they are being loud and annoying in a place that is supposed to be for adults like R-rate movies or... I don't know... A BAR, I get irritated) screeched for chocolate milk. I had to restrain myself from saying, "Well, I can make a shot that tastes like chocolate milk..." Instead I named off the stuff we use to mix with booze, Coke, 7-Up, Orange Juice.... Of course they proceeded to order food with special demands to appease the kids. Of course it put off my regulars some of whom were there to shout obscenities at the TV when the Sox or Cubs screwed up and vent about their crappy days using colorful language that you can use at a bar because, you know, it's supposed to be for adults. And of course the lady tipped like it was a freaking restaurant, not like I was bartending, cooking, and doing special kid service...
• The crazies. Oh the crazies. Sometimes they amuse, sometimes they irritate, so they just fall in the WTF category. Apparently in addition to Napkin Note Guy, we've collected some new weirdos over that the Beacon such as Creepy Al and his girlfriend. I can't really explain Creepy Al without doing a vocal impression, but his girlfriend came in a couple Saturdays ago while I was slammed and stopped me from what I was doing FIVE times to ask me if I'd seen Al, if I was sure I hadn't seen Al, if I knew who Al was, and even though I reassured her each time. When I wasn't looking, she still absconded into the Beer Garden (which was closed because it closes at midnight and this is indicated by not one, but two closed doors) and Dan O. had to chase after her. She told him that she thought Al might be sitting out there... Never mind that the Beer Garden was closed and IT WAS POURING RAIN! Ah the adventures of Creepy Al and Crazy Chick. But now to update you on Napkin Note Guy. I hadn't seen him in awhile and thought hmm, maybe he did read the blog and is staying away. But he's turned up again and he won't ever read the blog because he doesn't know how to use a computer apparently. Also, for those of you who were like, oh maybe he's not that creepy, I've collected stories from other bartenders and regulars about him. Including about how one regular smashed his camera after he took a picture of him at the urinal.... And apparently he's been banned from a couple other bars because the Napkin Notes creep people out. The latest Napkin Note however, is just nonsensical.
  

9:52 PM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Women Who Rock Wednesday: Cecil Castellucci!

Welcome to my new favorite day of the week, Wednesday when we celebrate the women who rock my world. Among them so far we have had writers, musicians, and a fashion designer. Last week, I featured my new favorite band, Civet and the winner of a special promo edition of their CD Hell Hath No Fury is eeeeeeeee from MySpace! Next week, I'll be featuring one of my favorite artists, Liz Adams. And this week, I'm above and beyond thrilled to be hosting Cecil Castellucci, author of BOY PROOF, THE QUEEN OF COOL, THE PLAIN JANES, JANES IN LOVE, and one of my all-time favorite novels, BEIGE!

You can read my original squees and sighs about BEIGE here. I love BEIGE because it's the perfect combination of a fish out of water story and a coming of age story set against a punk rock backdrop, which made the book for me, of course. I was the girl who felt like she never really fit anywhere and I suspect a lot of my readers were those kinds of kids, too. BEIGE