Time May Change Me, But I Can’t Trace Time

What does it say that my last post was in remembrance of Lou Reed?

And just a few posts before that was my tribute to Captain Beefheart.

I suppose the only thing that dusts off the Creeter QWERTY is an influential musician passing through to the starry expanse.

And, glory-be, David Bowie was as influential as they come.

Announcement of his death on January 10th left me so thunderstruck that I had no words for several days. I sat by and read friend after friend pour out their hearts and tears. I read article after article praise his career and character. All I could do was passively click “Like” and silently weep.

No, that’s not all I could do. I also cranked up the volume.

Hunky Dory (1971) is, by my standards, one of the top 10 albums of all time. It’s hard to choose a best David Bowie album, it’s true, but Hunky Dory just takes it all to the next level for me.

Everything from his deliciously passionate vocals, to the wide range in music style honoring his favorite musicians, to the ever-present message that it’s not only okay to be an outsider – it’s good, it’s healthy, it’s necessary. You, in being abnormal, are normal. Love yourself. You are the future.

One of my favorite tracks is the song Bowie wrote upon receiving news he would become a father. “Kooks” is so simple and beautiful; the perfect song from a parent to child. I cannot wait for my husband and I to sing it to our baby when we have one.

I suppose it really is fitting that Lou Reed brought me back last time, and David Bowie brings me back now. This time I plan to stick around for a while.

Let’s take you out on a track from Hunky Dory that Bowie wrote for Lou Reed. In fact, the two of them performed it together on stage for Bowie’s 50th Birthday Bash in 1997.




You Know, Her Life Was Saved By Rock & Roll

Lou Reed passed away today. He had a liver transplant earlier in the year, and I was so relieved to read an article where his wife, performance artist Laurie Anderson, said he was recovering nicely. Not only was I worried about Lou Reed’s own health, but the thought of the two of them being separated broke my heart.

Lou and Laurie

Lou and Laurie had been an influence on me with their individual careers, long before I even knew about their long-term relationship. But since their marriage in 2008, when I learned that they had been together since the 1990s, I have always been filled with immense love and hope just thinking about the fact that they were a couple. Two amazingly talented and perceptive people, who may not go by other people’s standards of “normal,” but are beautifully intertwined by their confidence in and respect for themselves and each other.

While I am saddened by this great loss, I am encouraged by the thought that there even existed an artist and human being who could be such a profound influence on the world, and this very Creeter.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna start dancing to that fine, fine music.

-Rachel Creeter

And all of us must breathe/until our dying breath…

Two weeks ago, my puppy stopped eating. My puppy is 13 years old, a tiny black terrier with spiky bangs, long silky ears, liquid black eyes and an underbite that reduced his dollar value to zero and increased his loveability by about 6000%. But he stopped eating two weeks ago. My puppy has cancer.

For the last two weeks, he’s been sleeping more and more, only getting up to come to the door when we come home, looking at us with his liquid eyes and slowly wagging his plumey tail, quiet gratitude that we’ve returned to love him a little bit more.

The vet suggested that we could bring him to be put down, but that’s it’s not necessary : he’s not in pain and he will eventually just fall asleep and not wake up. Putting him down would be convenient. It would have meant grieving for a day and then moving on – not waking up five times a night to let him outside or help him on the couch, not holding a water bowl up to him so he can drink whilst lying down, not having to hold him and croon words of love and gently stroke his fragile head and hurt again and again and again at the thought of not being able to do all that tomorrow.

But death is not convenient. And, with death and love so inextricably entwined, neither is love convenient. Death is a part of life, as love is a part of death and life. One would mean nothing, have no consequence, if it weren’t for the other. Living with my puppy dying in my life makes me more fully human than if I were to remain untouched by his life and death and love.

But dammit, knowing that does not make life easier.

Better. But not easier.

Life Moves Pretty Fast…

…if you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

-Ferris Bueller

John Hughes died today. I feel as though my entire childhood has passed away, now. What with Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, Ed McMahon—and now the creator of the Brat Pack.

I just watched Pretty in Pink again the other day, and was going to watch Ferris Bueller’s tonight. Now I’ll have a special reason to.

It’s just so bizarre to me. I mean, I know he hasn’t been in the media the past couple decades, and has pretty much disappeared from the movie-making business….but I guess I was secretly hoping maybe someday he would make a comeback and be the voice of the new generation again.

Long live Shermer, Illinois.

-The Basket Case

P.S. I’ll do a Mix Tape of songs from his movies (they always have the best soundtracks, my friends) soon.