Canamgirl Music

It will have been 19 years, this August, on the 19th that I arrived in the United States of American. It also happens to be my 38th birthday!  I will have spent exactly half my life in Canada and half my life in the US but that second half of my life has been wrought with stress, concern, and attempts at various VISA’s, boarding crossings and extensive measures to maintain my little life here south of the border.

I have been on an F1 VISA (Student), TN VISA (NAFTA treaty) and H1-B (Work VISA) throughout those 19 years.  The most recent has been the TN VISA and as a “temporary VISA” there was going to come a day when I would expire as a legal resident in the US on a temporary VISA.

I have had a number of opportunities over the years to marry.  Some of them even came close, but I never wanted to marry to stay in the US.  Like I used to tell people, “I’m not from Rawanda” so I don’t NEED to stay in the US.  I just built a life here over those 19 years that I really enjoyed and was never ready to leave…although I have had numerous people tell me recently, given the political climate, I should really consider going back.

The irony is, I finally did find someone to marry!  He wasn’t just anyone, but someone I could see myself working through life together with, because anyone who is honest about marriage knows it’s work!  I am finally in the final stages of residency in the US and am faced with an insane amount of work – a full medical exam (that would have better suited my initial arrival in 1997), thousands in paperwork and legal fees, marital interrogation by a judge and then government officials and all of this needs to be completed by May 26, 2016 when my current VISA is set to expire…

Immigration is an anomaly to me here in the US.  I’ve been here 19 years.  I’ve paid taxes for 19 years.  I’ve contributed to social security for 19 years. I have been a gainfully employed member of American society for 19 years, but I might still face rejection.

With a hope and a prayer, plus solid legal representation, I face the next four months armed to successfully complete the immigration hurdles in front of me and with a new found respect for all my friends who have had to go through this process before me…it’s like marriage, WORK!! 🙂

Here’s to another 19 years of free travel between Canada and the US!

Snowmageddon 2016 brought the very weather I have spent the better part of my adult life trying to avoid.  Why didn’t I move further south, you ask?

While I left my home and native land over a decade ago to attend college in VA, I always appreciated the fact that I could get in a car and be at my dad’s front door in 12 hours but not have to live in weather that would freeze your very breath before it left your body. The 12 hour drive was appealing due to my morbid fear of flying.  I know, I know, it’s a million times safer to fly than it is to drive, and while there are endless statistics to support that statement, the fact that I am sitting in a tin-can in the sky, looking out a 8×10 window at the clouds and the world below, at the mercy of whichever pilot was assigned to that commercial flight leaves me feeling anything but safe.

So I settled in Virginia.  A happy little state just south of the Mason Dixon line (Canadian friends, google that one if you are like me and had NO idea there were lines beyond country and state!) where the weather still carried four seasons but at a much more tolerable climate than my beloved Canadian seasons.  Until this year.

As a child, I can acutely remember walking to school, 30 minutes each way, in drifts of snow that reached up to my knee, barely able to feel my fingers or toes, and dreaming of that place the Beach Boys would sing about on the oldies station in my dad’s car: “I wish they all could be California girls.”  I was certain I was a California girl or some-other-climate girl as I used to dream of warmer places every winter that seemed to span from September to April.  A Virginia girl and for the better part of the 19 years, the weather here has always been appropriately milder than that of my childhood home.  Until this weekend.

Here is Canada on Saturday:

Here’s Virginia on Saturday:

I got what I was trying to get away from!

What did your weekend look like?

As a Canadian, living in a foreign country (the US), I have experienced moments of sensitivity when my nationality was either ridiculed, teased, or mis-quoted.  I have never taken offense, even when offense was intended, as I understand that the ignorance or deliberate slander of another is not a reflection on me or my country but recognizing the pride associated with ones home and native land I took to heart something that was brought to my attention about St. Patrick’s Day…

I had NO idea.  All these years, I’ve spelled it “Patty,” as “Patrick” has the “t” and that seemed like the logical next step in shortening the phrase.  I was wrong.  So wrong, that it was a Reverbnation post to a fellow artist who kindly informed me that all these years I have been slandering this Irish holiday, unbeknownst to me, and anyone Irish was cringing in the way we might when nails run down chalkboards every time they read the phrase “St. Patty’s Day.”

In the interest of not being a “goat,” I am hence forth referring to this day as “St. PADDY’S Day” and would ask that to be culturally correct all who read this do the same!

If you want a quick little read on this mix up, check this out : http://paddynotpatty.com/

Cheers!!

Renee Ruth

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On the heels of my last post about Madonna, I was looking at the lengths she has gone to in order to “preserve” her youth.  Even as you scroll through Hollywood celebrities and Grammy winners, both men and women alike spend a fortune to slow the march of time on their skin.  I can remember the moment in my late 20’s when I looked in the mirror and finally *noticed* the expression lines on my face…it was tragic. I immediately set out on a pilgrimage to accomplish what so many before me had tried to do and ended up seven years later with a graveyard of cosmetics that did little more than disappoint.  It was after a six week stint with a well known all-natural anti-aging regimen that I tossed the half-empty bottles into the trash and ordered my first Redefine Regimen along with their brand new release of Acute Care.

I am not a fan of chemicals, so Botox doctors will never see a penny from me and I am terrified of surgery so neither will the plastics docs.  That’s what attracted me to R&F and Acute Care!  It was ALL-NATURAL and designed to attack the lines that had taken permanent residency on the corners of my eyes!  It was nearly two months into the routine of the regimen R&F began turning back time.

I have waited nearly half a year before actively becoming a consultant in this company because I didn’t want to prematurely support a product (like I had done in the past) that did not deliver what it promised.  This company is not a farce.  The results are gender proof and age proof.  Anyone can begin the journey of turning back time and everyone can prevent the clock from marching on.

Email me at reneeruthmusic@gmail.com and I’ll set up a time to call/text about getting you into the best skin of your life!!  Remember, the first thing people see is your face!

Renee Ruth

Renee Ruth

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“Like fine wine”…most men tend to get better with age while us women…shrivel up like grapes!  I recently came across Madonna’s interview in Rolling Stone Magazine which touched on her racy climb up the pop music ladder, claiming the throne as one of pop musics iconic queens, and the frustration she is facing as she continues to redefine herself and the pop music industry for a woman in her 50’s.  So I went on a hunt and pparently what I found was the “tame” version of feedback on Madonna’s music career:

http://www.rollingstone.com/music/features/madonna-on-making-rebel-heart-the-age-of-distraction-and-joan-of-arc-20150305

“OLDonna.”  That is what she has unaffectionately been dubbed in this particular articles mini-feed.  Even as I read it, I couldn’t help but think how, no matter who you are, what you do, and with what intent, there are going to be naysayers, haters, and people who are going to be find something nasty to say about you.  It is part of being in the “limelight.”  I find it interesting Madonna is bothered by it, especially the particular “limelight” she has always ascribed to, as it appears as though record labels could be less concerned about her “squeakbox voice” and “wrinkley face” with the release of her latest album “Rebel Heart.”

Yet, Madonna fought back with this article in Rolling Stone:

http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/madonna-fights-back-inside-rolling-stones-new-issue-20150225

She reserves her most passionate and eloquent remarks for the topic of ageism, in pop writing and in society, claiming that she is musically judged by her age.  As I continued to think about pop music and women vocalists in their 40s and 50s, artists like Aretha Franklin, Diana Krall, Kate Bush, Bonnie Raitt, and Joan Jett came to mind.  They have not faced the same social media onslaught as Madonna; so is it really ageism?

As my fellow musicians of all ages and fellow listeners of the same peruse this post, I wonder what you think about ageism in the music industry?

Renee Ruth

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I love that commercial, where the dad opens the door and looks at his son and “calls in sick.”  There are a lot of jobs in life where you just can’t do that, the show MUST go on.  Which of my readers is in a job where you just don’t have that luxury?  If you don’t have kids, it might be a business that can’t run without you there, or in my case a band that needs me there!  I woke up yesterday morning like and mack truck had run me over.  You know that feeling where your head is as big as a balloon and pounding like a Miami night clubs drum and bass?  That was me.  It’s hard to “reschedule” gigs though.  So many people are counting on you to show up and put on a show, including your bandmates who need the money for bills, and the venue who needs to business for the same reason.  Last night I showed up, AND put on a show…

It takes a lot to step up to the plate when you’re having trouble sitting up off the couch! 🙂  I was wondering what little tricks of the trade you all use to show up when “the show must go on”?

Renee Ruth

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I recently was in a lengthy discussion, actually a couple discussions, about the arts, music in particular, and our need to shamelessly support everyone we meet and know in the industry as often as we can.  How many of you take time out of, what I’m sure is like mine, a VERY busy schedule to go hear other bands in your area play?  How many of you share other bands status’?  These are things that sometimes we are just too busy to think to do, and sometimes we forget what the music is about…

Music should be what UNITES us!  We are one big family of people who have a common goal: to bring more music into this world!  Let’s make it our gaol as we move into a gig-full weekend, to share and support all the musicians we come into 🙂

Renee Ruth

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I’m sure there are some of you who immediately think of the cult classics that centered around the ideas of tapes, tape decks and those prehistoric form of music distribution.  In 2009, there was an entire movie centered around this form of listening and recording.  I can remember sitting in front of my JVC listening to Casey Kasem (we we sadly lost last year) waiting for the opening strains of my favorite song to hit the big red “record” button and start what would be an 8 song montage of radio songs I loved.  Those days are so far behind us, I had almost forgotten the crude approach to music listening and loving until today.

This musical generation behind me has probably never held a Scotch tape, and if they were asked about it they would definitely assume we were talking about something sticky.  The digital world has changed music forever.  How do you remember the music?

Renee Ruth

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And I am thinking about how long it’s been since I composed anything on this blog.  I had initially thought to do a creative status update on FB, and then remembered this cognitive outlet.  So here is how I would like to say goodbye to the last year…

Dear 2014,

When I first met you, ironically, I had just left one of the best New Year’s parties with a friend who moved away not long after you and I were introduced and headed to a celebration at the very place I will now say goodbye to you.  For those who don’t follow (smile), I was at a party at Martin Donovan’s and we all went to Jimmy’s on the James after the ball dropped to dance the night away. I met 2014 as a newly single, eternal student, who once had musical dreams, family dreams and felt left with her academic aspirations.  That first day together I spent on my own determining to complete the doctorate I was chipping away at and to start writing music one of those three hundred and sixty five days.  That first day was spent at the OCC workout room, looking out over a southern VA landscape I’ve grown to love and I didn’t know how you and I were going to spend the next year, but I was determined to make it matter.

I would never have guessed, that at the end of our days together, I would be getting to do the what I love the most: Sing!  You couldn’t have convinced me that I would have found a band of fantastic musicians, we would end up in the studio before the summer was over, we would release a live CD AND a single, and we’d end up driving to Richmond to Audition for American’s Got Talent.  While all this is going on, you got to see me complete the very last doctoral class I will ever physically take and begin the opening pages of my dissertation.  If you had told me that this year I would find a man who loved me more than life itself I wouldn’t have believed that either, but those were just the tips of the iceberg of experiences that marked this past year.

2014, when I think of the last year we’ve spent together, and the milestones in my life you walked me through, I can honestly say I am sad to see you go; however, it is truly my prayer that when I meet 2015 in a few hours, the dreams that I hold for that year will be much like they were last year whenI met you: Far exceed anything I could have imagined.

The Lord has walked through the beginning and ending of so many things in my life and it is the prayer for the coming year that He maintains His hand in my life and takes me to the places I have always dreamed of!

Here is to the coming year and all the dreams, hopes and experiences it holds!!

Renee Ruth

So my phone went missing Saturday night, March 1st 2014, either during or shortly after my last set at Jimmy’s on the James.  That place has always been like a second home, even when I’d been gone for a few months, I came back to the same audience and community that had loved me long before I left.  I have seen posted numerous places on Facebook that you aren’t doing something right if you don’t have any haters, and it is no secret I have a few, but I never translated the idea of “haters” into potential “thieves” until last night.

There was a table of customers at my show, only one or two who I knew, that did not seem like they were necessarily there to support my music and my band.  My phone sat with my things at the front table near all our gear, and at the end of my set I ran to the bathroom and came back to pack up my things.  My friends and long time fans had been sitting there when I left so I didn’t notice the missing phone as anything alarming right off the bat, I had assumed like friends had done in the past, when they left the table of things, they carried personal possessions that were there with them.  It wasn’t until 30 minutes later when the place cleared out and I began inquiring who picked it up that I became concerned.  When we tried to call the phone and it was off, having arrived at Jimmy’s at 8pm fully charged, I started to get that feeling…you know the one that tells you something isn’t right.

Now here is how “Find my iPhone” really works.  At the restaurant, we were able to call my phone and it continued to go into voicemail.  Since Jimmy’s doesn’t have wifi, I had to wait to get home to try and track my phone.  Had I believed my gut about the theft, I should have ran next door and found wifi to track my phone that was on (as it was ringing before it dumped into vm) but by the time I got home the repetitive calls (I’m assuming) caused the thief to shut off the phone.  When that happens, “Find my iPhone” will only return an “offline” status and a notification that action will be taken next time the phone is on the network.  I knew this meant that if the thief had any cell phone savvy, they would never turn that phone back on…

Like someone PM’d me on Facebook, the Lord has definitely always guided me and protected me, even in the moments I’ve been wronged, and this individual was obviously unaware of the IOS 7 capabilities and he turned my phone on Sunday at 3:44pm.  What happens with IOS7 is you have the ability to put your phone in “lock mode.”  Once you do this, when the phone is turned on a message is received on the locked screen saying “This phone has been lost, please call ‘x'” and there is absolutely nothing else that can be done with the phone.  It is a brick. I spent all day Sunday blacklisting the phone with the police, reporting it stolen with AT&T (meaning it can’t even be hacked and used), and studying the GPS coordinates that “Find my iPhone” provides the minute the phone is online.  Here is what I had at 5pm Sunday:

And this map location:

You just don’t realize how important something like a cell phone is until it’s gone, especially since a number of years ago we all nearly did away with landlines all together.  I had to screen shot these onto my iPad (which only worked when connected to wifi) and took it in the car with me to set out to Madison Heights.  My thought was, maybe they had enough sense to know that a locked phone is worth the price of a brick, to them, and the just turned it off and tossed it behind this building.

So here I am, at dusk, on the side of a building shuffling thorough grass and rubble that was located next to the equipment shop that ended up being where the little red dot landed.  A church was located next to the shop, so maybe I had a false sense of safety, because the back of my mind still held a few FB people who warned me about going to “certain parts of Madison Heights alone.”

Then I heard the screech of truck tires.

I glance over my shoulder and see a massive white truck with two guys in it looking very hard at me.  It is amazing how quickly you can calculate things when the adrenaline is rushing and you think you are in danger.  I was reaching for my keys and racing for the drivers side door of my car as I heard the truck peel into the parking lot and head for my car and I deduced that there was no way I unlock and get into my car before the driver of the truck got out of his.  I still try.  As I’m reaching for the handle, I glance at the driver’s face and notice a look of concern rather than anger and for a minute my guard drops.  I wave a white flag with, “Hey!  Do you guys own this place?”  My question immediately disarms the driver who has cleverly blocked my car with the length of his vehicle.  Quickly I learn it is his grandfather’s equipment store, and there had been a recent theft (ironic) and the driver and his passenger get out of the truck and help me search for my potentially abandoned iPhone.

As I get in my car, dejected that my phone was still MIA, I say a quick prayer thanking the Lord that nothing unfortunate happened to me (like FB friends had foreshadowed) and headed back home to silence.  It’s amazing how attached we are to our phones and how connected we are and it’s something we’re uniquely unaware of until its gone.  I called it an early night, worn out from the chase, and woke up the next day to a host of posts regarding my missing phone and GPS coordinates.

When I woke up the next day, I had a list of posts regarding the coordinates I posted above.  Turns out a former coworker, lived on that road next too the pin drop along with the suspected thief (that was sent in PM’s to me over the course of the night).  I sat at my computer and realized that the thief had turned on my phone, saw that “lost phone” message and decided to not return the phone; this was definitely theft.  So I started to think like the thief.  If I lifted an iPhone my goal was probably to make a few bucks selling it.  If this thief had any tech sense, they’d have figured out the phone in “lock mode” is now worth nothing to them but it was worth $800 to me.  Someone on FB said, why don’t you offer a reward and I immediately posted a status saying anyone who “found” my phone would be given $100 (1/8th of what the phone was worth to me since I found out there was no insurance on the phone).

Friends posted, re-posted and I heard nothing but I did hear from my online jobs who were needing to reach me via phone and I didn’t have one.  I waited a few hours and ended up on the snow-day at AT&T replacing my stolen phone with a phone from the Next Plan.  Essentially, the replacement phone was a lease as I didn’t have the $800 to shovel out for a new phone I could own and I took my shiny new champagne colored iPhone 5S back to my apartment that afternoon to receive a phone call at 4:30 where the caller was saying to me, “you’re never going to believe this…”

Talking on the replacement phone I was forced to get two days later for work, the voice on the other end said they got in touch with my former coworker, informed him of the reward, and this individual said he had my phone and wanted his reward.  I sat there stunned.  I was getting my phone back, I’d already gotten a new phone, this person had my phone or immediate access to it and I used to be his manager ten years ago and his co-worker last year at Jimmy’s on the James.  He had been there the night it went missing and now he “found” it.  When the phone was brought back to the restaurant that night at 5pm, this person was shown the GPS satellite location, along with the GPS map that was produced when my phone was turned on the next day and he appeared surprised that you could pinpoint a phone location and it pinned my phone suspiciously close to where these two individuals lived and worked.  He still took the reward money in exchange for my phone he brought, and left.  I can’t help but wonder how those men would feel if someone came to the ones car wash shop in Madison Heights or the others new restaurant on 29 and “found” one of their phones or other items of value?