The Adventures of Rain Dance Maggie and the Awesomeness of a Fleet Foxes Funeral Finale with a Bit of Frusciante For Good Measure

Looking back over the past few blog entries, I see that I've tackled:

1. Politics (if Sarah Palin Entertainment can be counted as Actual Politics and unfortunately, I think it can).

2. Impermanence

3. Attachment Parenting and the Fostering of Independence

4. Religion

Don't you think it's time I drop all the fluffy unsubstantial blogging for something REALLY important? And judging from the title of this blog post, which is probably the longest blog post title ever in the history of blog post titles, can you see that I'm about to talk about something monumentally imporant? Like...oh, I don't know...The Adventures of Rain Dance Maggie? Yes, my Sardine Peppers....today the brand spanking new Red Hot Chili Peppers single was released.  It is a few days earlier than expected, so boo-yah! Sardine Mama woke up to an unexpected pleasant surprise instead of the kinds of surprises she's used to waking up to, which are more of the I think I'm gonna throw up! variety.  Or the Jasper just dumped an entire gallon of milk on the floor! variety.  Or the Mom!! I have to be at work in five minutes!! variety.

You can listen to the single, if you want.  But you don't have to.  You and I don't have to be on the same page for EVERYTHING, after all.  Or anything, for that matter.

I do not count myself a citizen of the Insane Chili Peppers Community. I'm not one the millions of (surprisingly young) people who spend hours commenting on discussion boards.  The threads on these boards have titles like Will Anthony Shave His Mustache? It seems that there are a lot of people very concerned about the Chili Peppers front man's facial hair.  Like REALLY CONCERNED.  They're all rolling around on the floor in orgasmic bliss right now because of this single.  Unfortunately, I am not in any kind of orgasmic anything that I know of.  But I am really excited.  But not as excited as the Crazy Fans on the Discussion Boards.  I love it that I'm not as crazy as they are.  There is a Them (crazy fans) and there is a Me (normal fan) and there is a rock solid line between us.  I mean, after all, I don't spend hours commenting about Anthony's mustache.  I just spend hours reading the comments about Anthony's mustache.  This clearly makes me Normal.  Clearly. Normal. Look it up.

Anyway, I am thrilled and excited and after listening to it 40 or 50 times, I have decided to come out in favor of The Adventures of Rain Dance Maggie.  It's catchy.  But it's missing something.  And his name is John Frusciante.  John, my favorite Pepper, is not in the band anymore.  He's been replaced by a fine young man named Josh Klinghoffer. And I'm like totally cool with that.  I am.  Not. Really. Cool. With. That.  Because even though I claim not to be obsessed with the Chili Peppers?  I must admit to a somewhat casual no big deal or anything like that very small and tiny little obsession with Frusciante. 

I have a small little tendency towards ridiculous obsessions.  I have a small little tendency towards not really grasping the idea of moderation. You know, I couldn't just have one or two kids, I had to have five!  I couldn't just homeschool, I had to unschool! I couldn't just breastfeed a baby, I had to breastfeed toddlers! That's the Sardine Mama you know and love (or are at least mildly curious about)....but my All Or Nothing personality doesn't stop at parenting.  Unfortunately.  Let's just say it's a good thing I never did Real Drugs.  I can't just casually like a band, product, person, or philosophy.  I wish I could.  Casual Liking, it seems, would take up far less time that Complete Devotion.

So I'm devoted to Frusciante.  Everybody needs a hobby.

Fortunately for me, I do have a Fellow Frusciante Buddy...and fortunately for me, I'm married to him.  And fortunately for me, he often plays John's songs on his guitar.  I don't think Jeff's interest in Frusciante extends to where he was last seen and what he was wearing, as does mine (even though I'm not crazy).  But still, he appreciates him.  I'm thinking a lack of appreciation for Frusciante would have been a deal-breaker for me.

My kids? Do not appreciate Frusciante.  In fact, I'm pretty sure they're a little bit jealous.  Like, who do you love more, Mom?  Me or John Frusciante?  Before you become alarmed by this, let me just say that I hardly even had to think about it.

John has crazed fans.  I'm not even in the same universe as some of these people, many of whom claim he is Jesus. He has just sometimes looked like Jesus, which is clearly not the same thing as BEING Jesus.

He has also, at times, looked a bit like Edward Scissorhands, and he currently looks like a cross between Ben Stein and Grizzy Adams.  None of his looks (and he's had so many) define him.  He's undefinable.

Many claim to be in love with him.  They want to marry him, have his babies blah, blah, blah.  I am NOT THAT OBSESSED.  I do admit to a 1:00 pm John Adoration Hour where I like to watch videos...but that's not EVERY DAY.  It's only the days that I'm home at 1:00. I'm not in love with him, I don't want to marry him, and I certainly don't want to have his babies.  I'm just his soul mate.  That's all.

I would like to hang out and be his muse.  Don't you think I would be a good muse?  I could inspire him to write beautiful music.  Because don't you think I'm inspiring?  He might also find me amusing.  Ha! Did you get that?  I made like a little pun-thing....aMUSE....get it?  I'd be an awesome muse.  Unless, of course, he'd want to be like writing music All The Time. Like, spending hours and hours locked away being all boring and writing music.  After awhile, I think I would cease to be amusing and start to be needy.  I'd be all like Come TALK to me....I'm feeling LONELY....You don't pay enough ATTENTION to me.... I have been known to be um...emotionally needy (at times).  And if I weren't all emotionally needy, I'm afraid I'd become physically needy, and John would be all like trying to write a song and I'd be all like, John, I'm hungry...fix me a sandwich!! Can't you see how well that would work out?  See why he needs me?  Let's see....what was I saying?  Oh yeah.  About how I'm perfectly normal and Not Like Those Other Fans who are clearly Not Perfectly Normal.  Like I am.  Normal. Ahem...

I have most of John's solo albums.  And I like to listen to them in the car but I have to FIGHT FOR MY RIGHT to listen to John Frusciante.  Sometimes we Rock/Paper/Scissors for it.  Rock, paper, scissors!  I win, Mom! Taylor Swift it is!  Whenever Camille wins it is either Taylor Swift or Justin Beiber.  I'd prefer a little Beiber, myself.  But Camille sure loves Taylor.  When she hands me the CD, I say, "What do you say?"  And Camille says, "I don't need a boy to make me happy!" That's right. I refuse to pop in the Don't Leave Me Alone or Break Up With Me or I'll Die a Thousand Deaths-themed CD until Camille has recited this particular mantra.  Sometimes she decides to be a smart ass and says, "You don't need John to make you happy, Mom!" And then I say, "Yes, I do. Mommy has reached middle-age and she's not at all comfortable with that and loving John makes it more bearable and adds meaning to my life and I'm entitled to a little joy, after all, and...." and then she walks off.  See? All. Completely. Normal.Over. Here.

Joel can't stand the Chili Peppers.  He says By the Way, in particular, reminds him of childhood family vacations, which I thought were all pretty swell but apparently give Joel nightmares.  Whatever. He doesn't have much of an opinion about John one way or the other.  But he supports my right to my obsession.  When you die, Mom, I'm gonna have you cremated and sprinkle your ashes on Frusciante's lawn.  Then you can become a PART OF HIS LAWN.  No wait!  I'll sprinkle your ashes on his George Foreman Grill and you can become a PART OF HIS STEAK and he'll eat you and you'll become a PART OF JOHN FRUSCIANTE.  You'll freaking BECOME John Frusciante. 

I think he's teasing but it is a lovely idea. 

Speaking of when I die (because I don't know if you noticed but it seems I've subtly changed the subject), Joel and I have Big Plans for my funeral.  I have a Funeral Play List and it is Rocking Awesome and it is a shame I won't be there to hear it.  One of the songs that shall be played at my massively impressive funeral attended by thousands is Fleet Foxes' Tiger Mountain Peasant Song.  It is SO DANG BEAUTIFUL.

Joel and I were discussing it and I was like, "Just picture it....me in the coffin....this song playing beautifully and everyone crying and weeping, but wait a minute...Joel, dude, you know we have to cut that song off before he gets to the end where he says, "I'm turning myself to a demon," because that would be inappropriate, in a way, and you know, quite possibly upset the church-goers amongst my fans..ahem...I mean, the people who have come to my funeral."

And then Joel is like, "Oh no, Mom! That would be AWESOME. I'll tie some invisible strings to you and when it gets to that part of the song I'll pull on the strings and you can SIT UP IN THE COFFIN."

I must admit, this idea does hold a small amount of appeal for me. It would almost be worth dying for. Listen to the song and tell me you don't agree.

Well, this was another one of those posts where Sardine Mama revealed just a tad too much about herself and lost a couple of followers, but whatever.  It's my blog, after all.