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

Someone thought they saw her Sunday/Window shopping in the rain…

I try to avoid shopping on Sundays if at all possible. “Day of rest” doesn’t exactly coincide with consumerism and mad crowds. But yesterday my dear mother left me a pleading note before she left for work, asking if I could pick up milk and bread. Who can say no to a pleading mother?

There’s a grocery store just down the street from my house, so on my way home from church, I pulled in and walked to the doors, realizing almost immediately that – argh! – the store only opened at noon and there were still some minutes to go. I contemplated leaving, but am so glad I decided to stay, because I then had the privilege of being part of a phenomenon I had no idea existed up until yesterday at 11h55.

At first it was just me and a scruffy looking guy waiting around outside the doors (his “beard” – aka his scary black scruff – definitely covered not only his face, his neck, and his chest, but I think started creeping around to the backs of his knees as well), and I was hit several times with that paranoid thought that the doors were actually open and I was just standing around like a fool, assuming they were locked. I surreptitiously crept closer to the automatic door. It did nothing automatic. I resumed my place a few paces away from El Scruff.

Then, three too-cool-for-school teenagers came, a guy and 2 girls, 2 of them obviously desperately in love and showing it in their over-pitched mockery and shoving of each other. Next a middle-aged man with three small children and a teenager with an obvious German accent, digital camera in hand, soaking  up the touristic wonders of a Rexall parking lot. A harried woman in a business suit… an elderly woman led by her daughter… a disappointed twenty-something, dressed in gangsta gear and clearly wishing he could hook up with the German girl…

Before I knew it, a microcosm of society had gathered outside the store, and when the doors were finally unlocked by a resigned Sunday employee, the sighs of relief and shuffling of snow-caked boots was our version of a racous cheer.

Sunday shopping. If you’re ever feeling disonnected from society, there’s your cure.

 
p.s. I’m wearing leg-warmers today.