August 6, 2014
I have gotten to that place past 50 music entertainment industry types have noticed. They call it old. I have gotten older like some of you and others of you will. I always wanted to be the older woman. A 20-year-old Rita Tushingham asks in A Taste of Honey, “Do I look like a woman with a past?”...in that adorable east end London accent. I mirror her words in my head, in my 16-year-old head, “a woman with a past.” That’s who I want to be, a woman with a past who’s lived an authentic life: following dreams, passions and living to tell about it.
No wonder it surprises me when the woman with a past is not a treasured commodity in this world. The wizened woman who’s grown to know so much is not as valuable, as I see it. But I’ve always had an eye for the rare find that can be had for a bargain price. That’s me. I just need to find the right ones to see it. As I scream at Mr. Music Business, “My new CD, Ever Since You Never Heard of Me, it needs to be heard. It needs to be in and on and heard among this so much radio shit!” And he answers, “Yes, but it’s young shit.” And I take the blow. And the voice in my head says, “It’s still shit.”
I have old jewels. Rubies, emeralds, chalcedonies, aquamarines, crystals, moldavite, orgonite, phenakite, amber, amethyst and even unnameables because I am a woman with a past and I got better at everything I do.