Rockabilly Psychosis

It has been more years than I can care to remember since I last attended a live show, was it the Cramps, perhaps the Sun Rhythm Section or was it Johnny Cash?

As my confidence grows as April I have reached out to wider world I was hiding from. Discovering the website Toronto Rockabilly.com I learned there was a local band that played my kind of music. I missed their January show in Burlington but on Saturday they were appearing at the Moonshine Cafe in Oakville.

The Moonshine is a small club, very intimate like listening a band in your best friends wreck room. But what to wear. Now in the UK attending such a show would mean wearing the appropriate rockabilly gear. Would local fans wear there musical taste on their sleeves or just be normal. I didn't want to be the odd girl out.

I selected my tailor made black leather motorcycle jacket (made by North Bound Leather….funny story) and leopard print mini dress with four inch pumps. Extra eye liner and bright red lipstick. I also had jeans but lost those for the photos.

The Hellbent Rockers were great with a mix of old and new rockabilly with some cool originals thrown in. It was like listening to my own record collection. I just wish they had a spot for dancing as I could not help moving to the beat. I think Natasha was even impressed, so this is what you are always listening too, I think I like it.

Stayed for all three sets, the band also invited up an amazing singer and guitarist the Crooked Cowboy play a few tunes, I especially liked his version of I Walk the Line where he mixed in verses of Pinball Wizard and Puff the Magic Dragon, all sung in a Johnny Cash drawl, yes it worked amazingly well.

Talked to the lead singer about rockabilly, couldn't help myself as I haven't had anyone to talk in depth about music since my brother moved to Japan. Asked why did he say the Way I Walk was by Robert Gordon, I said you know that's originally by Jack Scott who was born in Windsor, Ontario. I know he replied we just didn't expect anyone else in the audience to know. They even played the old Matchbox song Hurricane.

The Lincoln was parked right out front (washed for a change since it was so warm), received some nice comments on the car and one guy even tried to pick me up! He did know I was not all I seemed but didn't guess until we had talked for a while. At the end of the show we took some photos and was offered the double bass to pose with.

On seeing the photos "J" said it was lucky I was not arrested for prostitution. Actually that was her nicest comment.

All in all a great night!

PS. I was the the only one sporting the all out rockabilly look…whoops.

links:

http://www.themoonshinecafe.com/

http://torontorockabilly.com/

http://hellbentrockers.com/

This and That

I have another cool transsexual history item to post but this is just a brief update on what has been happening with me.

The contract work I took on is a lot more involved than I expected and I have found myself working on it pretty much full time with a few very late nights thrown in for good measure. I can see why they outsourced this particular project!

Had a meeting today with the company to go over progress and they gave me some additional tasks.

I am still using the Lincoln daily and have yet to switch over to the Seville. The Lincoln still has a manifold leak making the semi muffled 460 sound like a wheel barrow full of bricks being shot out of a cannon….not very ladylike I am afraid.

Lots of good “passing stories” TM, though I tend to forget them if I don’t write them down. A good example was at Canadian Tire today where I had three different staff members offer to help me (NEVER happened in guy mode), ma’am’d most everywhere. Sneaking suspicion that one of the two girls working the cash at the gas station read me, the one steps behind display and gestures to the other then the girl I was paying gives me an extra appraising sort of look. Perhaps they just liked my fur coat.

Crossed paths with lady from church while I was with children at McDonalds, “J” runs into her later and mentions well I guess you know then, confused look, turns out she thought I was the baby sitter. Ok enough bragging, I am sure I still get read more often than not. Which brings us to the ever sticky issue of voice. The contract work involves a lot of follow up phone calls, I have been practicing my voice at the start of each session but have got a few sirs (booo). I have not chickened out and left it up to the person on the other end, instead I start Hi this is April from…

Have an interview scheduled for Monday, already had two phone interviews as April with this company, a little nervous… make that very nervous as to meeting in person.

Met up with friends Ashley and Natasha, seems all our lives are moving in parallel as both are full time and like me doing our best to find our way forward without a map.

Today’s musical pick is the Modernettes from Vancouver’s 1980 punk scene with a decidedly Jan and Dean sounding rave up, Barbra. Play it loud!

Photo is of course Coccinelle taken from the amazing web site, http://www.queermusicheritage.us/drag.html

Very interesting, tons of history, some of it pertaining to being transsexual.

On Being A History Buff

I can’t help it; I am fascinated by the history of well ….just about anything. Part of my interest in cars is the amazing social and business history each model reveals. Each a microcosm of the nations events and tastes.

I lived in a confusion of naivety about being transsexual for much of my life. Like many I knew there was something terribly wrong but I couldn’t be one of those people could I?

Like the mainstream media I lumped drag queens, homosexuals and sex changes all together, not even sure I had even heard the term transsexual.

Clearly there have been transsexuals since the beginning of time but our history is something still in living memory, particularly in North America where surgery didn’t become available until the late sixties. As the majority of transsexuals want nothing more than to live “normal” lives as female the successful completion of surgery means going stealth and blending back into society. An unfortunate result is that much of that history is lost as on one is there to speak on behalf of those pioneers.

Transsexual history has also been subsumed by the greater LGBT (the T is silent) narrative. Transsexuals were at the forefront if not the vanguard of the gay rights movement. More so than being gay or lesbian being transsexual was, if one chose to try and live in ones true gender, impossible to hide. The very act of wearing appropriate clothes was illegal, their world shrunk to the size of whatever gay ghetto they could find a place to live. The only means of employment were if passable as a female impersonator or prostitute.

With nothing to loose and suffering so much oppression from without and within their own community it was no wonder the first shots in the revolution were fired by transsexuals (known as hair fairies), the battlefields, 1959 Cooper’s Donut Riots in LA, Compton’s Cafeteria 1966 and finally Stonewall. Yes transsexuals started that riot too.

With the advent of surgery by the end of the decade the opportunity for a new life and greater horizons was at once within reach. Perhaps here we see a partying of the ways, Transsexuals individually perused their goals to be accepted into mainstream society and traditional gender roles while the gay rights fought to be recognized as a new addition to what is normal. I am making no judgment here.

A few links for you:

Screaming Queens: The Riot at Compton's Cafeteria clip from Frameline on Vimeo.

Here is some riotous female rockabilly from 1959:

Tobogganing in Three Inch Heels

First real snow of the season here in this corner of Southern Ontario, also the first day I actually shovelled though could likely have left it to melt. Unfortunately our driveway is a little like the secret garden and never seems to get any sun.

To answer the question you are all anxious to know, yes it is possible to shovel snow in three inch heels. No not trying to show off its just that my only pair of winter boots are heels.

Saturday the children were getting "squirrelly" being cooped up so we took advantage of the snow to hit "murder mountain" the name kids have given the local hill. Retrieved sleds from the garden shed and hit the slopes so to speak.

There had been a rumour that the city had posted a sign forbidding sledding at this site but when we arrived the usual crowd was there and teenagers attempting to shoot down the east side and sail across the frozen stream. The sun had melted the snow on the opposite slope so everyone was forced to use the long steady grade facing south.

The children had a great time as the snow had been packed and polished by everyone and some good speeds were attained. I was freezing after an hour and to take my mind off my frozen toes I hitched a ride on the last few runs, yes in heels.

Despite the minimal snow the salt trucks were out in force spraying rock salt and calcium chloride brine with abandon. I wrote an article on rust proofing last month and will hopefully be able to share an excerpt with you dear faithful reader as soon as it is published….yeah I know you can't wait.

Little work done during the day as the youngest was sick, seemed like a whole day at the doctors then the pharmacy. Better get caught up on the contract work I took on.

Photos, children on the slopes, I know it is a real Mark IV but not so sure about the handbag.

Something to warm up with:

The Girl Can't Help It

Jayne at home

Jayne at the wheel of a 1959 Cadillac series 62 convertible

I must have been an odd teenager (or really cool as I prefer to think of myself), both feet planted in the 1950's a decade before my parents experiences, my mother listened to the Beatles, while I maintained that rockabilly was king and no new good music had been made after 1965.

I was obsessed with tail finned Cadillacs and begged my parents to go see each rusty example I could find advertised for sale.

Besides Elvis and Gene Vincent my idols were Mamie Van Doren, Jayne Mansfield, Bettie Page and Wanda Jackson. No not Marilyn, everyone liked her just too common for my tastes. I even met Wanda once and Mamie is still with us.

Poor Jayne was killed in a car accident (Buick Electra not a Caddy) in 1967. We certainly shared a taste in cars if not physical attributes, mores the pity. There are lots of photos around of her with custom pink Cadillacs, Lincolns and even Jaguars.

Her Hollywood house was the Pink Palace and the interior decoration would appeal to anyone with Elvis like sensibilities, so of course I love it! Unfortunately it was demolished in 2002 by some woman who is an investment banker, even the heart shaped poor is gone... unbelievable. Look at the photos I wouldn't change a thing....perfect!

Here is my favourite clip of her walking down the street to the sounds of Little Richard screaming the Girl Can't Help It. Try to imagine how mind blowing this was in 1956.

Hugs,

April

A Rare Case When I KNOW I Passed

Last Wednesday I had a meeting with the editor of a car magazine I am doing some contract work for. I wore a long grey skirt and purple patterned blouse and black tights, boots, black fur jacket and gloves as the cold weather demanded.

After the meeting I stopped at a hobby store to pick up a gift for my father (diecast Mark II Cortina GT like he used to have). I have known the stores owner since he opened and we have had many conversations about cars and I have bought a good number of birthday presents and gifts even some stuff for me at his store over the years.

Clearly he didn't recognize me. I paid for my purchase and even asked if he had the Hot Wheels Cadillac Seville as I had just bought the real thing recently. Still no sign of recognition. By this time another customer had come in so I asked if I could see an item at the back on a high shelf.

After he showed me the Autoart MGB I finally said, I should introduce myself. Yes he replies expectantly.

Didn't you see what I drove up in? Don't you recognize me? Oh the Lincoln, still no sign of recognition. Feeling a tinge of exasperation at this point I say I am (insert old name here). Still confused he says, Oh you're his wife?

NO I was HIM! Finally I see the light of comprehension in his eyes. He was cool with it and we had a quick chat before he had to get back to work.

It can be frustrating not knowing when we pass, are people being polite or did they assume that I was the woman I was presenting as. Was that odd look because I am not doing something right that is giving me away, did my voice betray me, the way I walk? Endless second guessing.

I am much better than before, earlier I would be terribly self conscious and have little confidence. Going full time helped immensely and more often than not I find myself having left the grocery store for example realizing that I had not worried about whether I pass or not.

That is not to say I don't make my best best effort to pass every day but April is now who I am and that is how I live my life every day.

The photo I took turned out super washed out my the noon day light but I think it gives it a real faded seventies vintage look. And no I am not eight feet tall, the Lincoln has been lowered significantly with custom made springs by Eaton Detroit.

Here is Hillbilly Moon Explosion with my new favourite version of Chick Habit:

Hugs,

April

My Kind of January

Thought I would share a photo or two to demonstrate how on and off warm our January has been in Southern Ontario. Now that I write this we will no doubt be snowed under.

This is my 59 series 62 convertible Cadillac, which I have had since I was 16. The 59 Cadillac was my first and still number one dream car. It has travelled to Gettysburg, Nashville, Memphis and Graceland, it served as our wedding car, it has been rebuilt twice. The 59 has the rare Q engine option, a 390 V8 with tri-power carbs. My father and I rebuilt the engine, well mostly him. I assembled the Caddy from a trailer full of parts without an manual, I know every inch of her like the back of my hand.

There was the time she broke down coming back from seeing the Blasters in Toronto and my friend Tony and I had to leave her by the side of the road as it was two in the morning. The next morning I called a tow truck and the driver said yep saw her on that back road out side of Peterborough already, have her home to you in an hour. True to form she started right up.

Saturday was my first drive in the Caddy as April (though I was dressed to work on cars not to impress). I may end up selling her to pay for FFS or even SRS if the provincial government changes what surgeries they cover. It will break my heart and I don't think I could ever look at another 59 Caddy again.

In other old car news….and you thought this was one of those trans type blogs….silly girls and boys.

Coming back from the grocery store, I noticed that the Lincoln was pulling to the right when braking, hmm think I have a sticky LH calliper. The 75 and 76 Lincoln Mark IV's have four wheel disks, best stopping ever on a large car but need a little TLC from time to time. Urgh time to get dirty again.

Really you must think this is a FtM blog, don't worry I will confirm to stereotype tomorrow and talk about some recipes I have had success with and what I wore to my meeting.

Here is Dave Alvin:

one time I took it like a man…..and I am never coming back in a long white Cadillac

Extra bonus version:

Hugs,

April