Author: Mary Lucia

Yeah, yeah. In some ways I have that “old soul” thing going on (though I find that expression to be fundamentally jive). Lately, however, some form of latent immaturity has started to kick in. For instance, I recently walked into a conversation at work among a group of people who were discussing the joy–and excitement…

We’ve all heard about the different levels of grief and Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Lately I’ve had reason to re-examine the varying levels of “relevance and cool” in the music business. There are phases, to be exact. Level 1. You start out, fresh, unknown, and interestingly unstudied. Someone more famous than yourself has gone…

I should preface everything by saying that for me the scariest scene in Rosemary’s Baby was not when the middle-aged Satan worshippers drugged Mia Farrow and forced her to have “relations” with the Beast Master, thus planting the seed of Lucifer in her waif-like womb. For me, the real horror began when, upon moving into…

I can’t think of anyone whose career I am more interested in or more forgiving of than Prince’s. Let it be known, I’d follow the tiny man who penned “Shockadelica,” “The Cross,” “House Quake,” and “Bambi” into the gates of hell if he asked me to. In the nineties I was one of those diligent…

I’m a renter, not an owner, baby, so why don’t you kill me? I realize that this may be the final stumbling block delaying my actual adulthood. I certainly know scads of people my age and younger who’ve taken the plunge. As Bob Smith would say, “Why can’t I be you?”Is it the dough? Nah.…

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to do some fill-in work at a radio station. Handed a pile of standard forms to fill out, I sat staring at question number four. “List three people to call in case of emergency.” Three! Didn’t it used to be one? Just how dangerous is this gig?…