From PostSecret.

How I know that I am old: I saw photos of “celebrities” at the VMAs (which I didn’t know still existed) and I knew maybe 6 of them.

Who/what the hell is this?

I give up. I’m not with it. I’m not cool. I’m old. Get off my lawn.

Just because. I did it anyway and I got the merit badge.

“American men you know them they just gotta be right

When it’s left to me often times I’d rather not fight

They make a big deal out of everything and they got too many guns

And just to make ’em mad I’m gonna do it for fun

I’ll do it anyway over the barren plains

I’m still a girl

It’s just a horse and I got the reigns”

Real friends. #MyPerson

Lately I’ve had a hard time getting to sleep. Even with my medications, I still lie in bed with all my thoughts.

Like…

Why exactly did Mr. Drummond adopt Willis and Arnold on Diff’rent Strokes?

And why did they share a room? Clearly the Drummonds had plenty of rooms in the penthouse.

Why am I thinking about Diff’rent Strokes?

Katie asked if I bought them school supplies. No, I’m going to send you with some dried up pens and some Pottery Barn catalogs in your backpacks tomorrow. We spent more on school supplies this year than on our down payment on our first house.

Why does PBS still have the pledge drives that take my favorite shows off for a Saturday morning and show some random infomercial with pledge cut-ins? Obviously people who ALWAYS watch Martha Stewart at 10 am on Houston’s PBS station, cut into THAT and ask for money. Appeal to the people who are already tuned in. But that would make sense.

I wonder if Morrissey is jealous that Johnny Marr can actually sing.

I wonder if Morrissey and Robert Smith are still feuding.

I miss Morrissey. And I miss reading about him as “Moz.” That’s such a cool nickname. Way cooler than “Ker,” but maybe as cool as “ReeRee.”

What is The Cure doing now? Are they touring? I need to look that up tomorrow.

Why the hell is Counting Crows being billed as folk rockers at Bluesfest? Folk rockers? No.

And who is Paul McCartney fooling with his 76 year-old self singing a song about f@cking on his new album. The song is called “Fuh You.” The F word without saying it. Stop it, McCartney. Just tour. Stop trying so hard. Kisses on the Bottom was bad enough. And no, none of us “got” that the “kisses on the bottom” refers to the XOXO lovey-dovey types write at the end of a letter. There. You’re welcome for explaining that, America. XOXO, ReeRee

Rudy Giuliani actually said “truth isn’t truth” on Meet the Press this morning. Shit needs to start making sense real quick like or America’s going to need the heart starting paddles from the ER. I can’t remember the name of the heart starting paddles because I’m half asleep.

GIVE ME THE HEART STARTING PADDLES — STAT!

What does STAT stand for? I need to look that shit up.

I was in Target bra shopping tonight with the oldest child. Why are there so many types of bras? Do people really wear sleep bras? Are they for an occasion? Because one of the best part of sleeping is not wearing a bra.

Ok, I’m out.

Johnny Marr is my favorite guitarist whom people forget about. The thing about Mr. Marr is that he was The Smith’s guitarist, which meant he took a backseat to the very outspoken, flamboyant Morrissey. The Smiths were one of the few of the new wave/post punk bands with a great guitarist and great guitar jangle pop sounds. And he has a great new album out.

But let’s revisit some of Marr’s takes on Smiths songs while singing lead — post Smiths.

But first, Mr. Marr’s shows us why he’s so very good at what he does.

Guess which one I am.

I never met Aretha Franklin. I never saw her perform, though I purchased tickets to shows she later canceled due to illness each time. It made me very angry at the time, but I had to let it go because it was Aretha.

There have been two artists who have been the soundtrack to my life from an early age: Aretha Franklin and Paul McCartney (who are the same age, which is interesting). They were there long before the bands I write about on this very blog frequently.

Aretha had no idea who I was, but she was my musical and spiritual fairy godmother. She had a way with words that no one else had.

Without Aretha’s influence on music, we would not have Adele, Amy Winehouse, Jennifer Hudson, Alicia Keys, Annie Lennox, Mary J. Blige, Mariah Carey, Lauryn Hill and a dozen others. Aretha sang like nobody else. Her style was influenced by Etta James and Dinah Washington and male singer, Sam Cooke. But she went a step beyond them. She WAS music. She took songs and turned them into feelings.

If you’re an appreciator or music, you can feel it. Aretha made you feel it and gave you a part of it.

She recorded breakup songs, love songs, self-esteem songs, and songs of inspiration and sheer empowerment. Not to mention her gospel album or the songs like “I Knew You Were Waiting For Me” with George Michael, a purely fun song.

Aretha received many honors in her lifetime, but it’s her songs and her voice that will live on. She was the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the ranked the Rolling Stone number one singer of all time, awarded the National Medal of Arts by President Clinton, and the Presidential Medal of Freedom — the highest award a US citizen can receive — by President G.W. Bush in 2005. And an honoree from the Kennedy Center Honors, which is my favorite for the musical tributes. It’s all about the songs.

I will carry Aretha’s music in my heart always. I will remember the strong, pioneering woman she was. I know there will never be another musician like her because she paved the way for all female singers and there isn’t anything anyone can bring to the table that Aretha didn’t do first.

Like I said, I never met her. But I know her. And she knows me. That’s the power of music. I’ve been writing this post all week after hearing Aretha was in home hospice. She passed away this morning. Many people will not understand my love for her, but my good friends will. Quite a few have already messaged me about her. I am incredibly sad, but I still have her music and in that way she lives on. Thank you for everything, Aretha.