"Chatting On The Subway"

My first, and to date only, original full-length musical is “A Heart Calls Quietly.” I had several follow-ups planned and started. This was to be the opening number of one of them. Imagine each verse sung by a different person or set of people, until they all join together on the final verse. Neither this show, nor any of the others I started around the same time, was completed…yet. I did finish three children’s musicals in collaboration with Carol Smith: “The Dancing Princesses,” “Brave Little Tailor,” and “Hansel and Gretel.” Only the first of those was every produced on stage.

One humorous incident occurred around the time “A Heart Calls Quietly” was produced. A newspaper interviewed me about the show. (An original musical was sort of a big deal at the time in Des Moines, Iowa.) I explained to the interviewer that I had written the book, music and lyrics to the show as well as arranging and recording all of the music. The interviewer asked me how I found the time to do all that while at the same time going to college and working a job. I answered, “I stay up late and drink a lot of coffee.” The paper printed my reply as: “I stay up late and drink a lot.” My first experience with the press, and I was misquoted! I remember being angry at the time, but now it makes for an amusing anecdote.

Chatting On The Subway

© Brian Hutzell 1989

It sure was nice to see the Nelsons
They looked so happy in their new apartment
A pleasant dinner at the Nelsons
It's nice to know we've got good friends
Wasn't it nice they had us over?
Don't you think so?
I do
It's nice to know they're doing well
They've got a comfortable home
But the night is nearly over and it's off to our own

They gave me quite a lovely party
I know I'm going to enjoy my retirement
And on my parting day we partied
It's nice to know I've still got friends
What'll I do with all my spare time?
Will I love it?
I will
I've got books to read, places to see
My leisure life can begin
Now my working days are over and it's time to turn in

Beginning a new job is a little exciting
But things went well and my nerves have settled
What'll I do with all the money?
Will I save it?
Or spend?
Save would be best
Mom will insist
I guess my childhood's almost over
Now that I'm working
My real life begins

A happy one-year anniversary
One year ago tonight we started dating
You took me to a lousy movie
We've graduated to a play
Hasn't it been a happy evening?
Do you love me?
I do
And pretty soon we'll graduate
There's not much longer to go
College days are almost over and we're out on our own

Beginning a new year is a little exciting
We're doing well, feeling secure and settled
I can do all of the exotic things I've wanted to do
Buy some new shoes to wear to school
Now the night is nearly over
It's been a good day
It's been a good day

"Build a Better Data-BASS"

Build a Better Data-BASS

© 2013 Brian Hutzell

As I write this, I am listening to an album by Keith Green. I greatly respect his voice, his piano playing, and his songwriting. Where I part with Mr. Green, though, is the content of his lyrics—the very thing he no doubt considered the very essence of everything he did. The late Keith Green was one of the first performers to blend pop and rock music with a deeply felt Christian message. I envy the conviction of my religious friends. It must be nice to believe with every fiber of your being that there is a deity that is all-knowing and all-powerful and that he is ON YOUR SIDE! Wow! We could all use an ally like that. But much as I’ve tried to believe, I remain filled with doubt. The one thing I’ve definitely learned in my quest is that faith cannot be forced. So the evangelicals can consider me a bound-for-hell sinner. I consider myself still a searcher. Meanwhile, I am thoroughly enjoying this music. 

"Change"

Sometimes songs just refuse to come out the way I want them to. I had high hopes for this one, but it was determined to disappoint me at every turn. There reaches a point, when things aren’t going well in the creative process, that you need to make a choice: Do I continue wrestling with this, or do I just kick it out the door and let it go wherever it wants? I chose the second approach with “Change.” I don’t know where it wandered off to, and I no longer care.

Change

© 1994 Brian Hutzell

Losing the one who makes you happy catches you unprepared

Leaving you moody, blue and crappy

Feeling alone and scared

Why couldn’t love be neater--manageable, refined?

Why can’t life be sweeter, cleaner, clearer

Nearer to what we had in mind?

It’s a change

And I could use a change

A change of direction, a change in the weather

But is it a change for the better, or is it just a change?

Looking toward a different future, shifting gears again

Though I try, it’s not wise to be too sure

Of who and what and when

So many roads to choose from--taking me here to there

I know I’m bound to lose some, and I want to be prepared

Still it’s a change

And I could use a change

A change of direction, a change in the weather

But is it a change for the better, or is it just a change?

Trying to reach the mainstream

But I’m still on a sidestreet

Frustrated by the detours and delays

Now I’m finally realizing that pointless agonizing

Is less productive than harmonizing

I’m mingling at the party, but no one’s bringing me my punch

So I’m packing up and parting

Making my own free lunch

It’s a change, and I can use a change

A change of direction, a change in the weather

May be a change for the better

But whatever, it’s a change

"BASS-ted Chicken"

BASS-ted Chicken

© 2013 Brian Hutzell

I’m not a vegetarian, and those times when I’ve thought about becoming one, the inner debate has been more over health issues than either animal ethics or environmental concerns. However, I’ve had my mind changed about what to eat for dinner more than once by passing a truck full of livestock on the highway. After seeing a semi-trailer packed with doomed pigs or chickens, I can’t bring myself to eat meat. As for health, I know I feel better when my diet contains less meat. On a trip to Portland, Oregon, I had a breakfast at Denny’s which featured a large portion of chicken-fried steak smothered in gravy. It was delicious, but afterwards I felt like The Blob. For my next meal, I discovered Blossoming Lotus, an organic vegan restaurant. After eating there, my body breathed a huge sigh of relief, and for the rest of that trip, I ate all of my meals there. Asked to choose either a plate of bacon and eggs, or a bowl of yogurt with granola, I know I’ll gravitate toward the former. Hopefully, though, I’ll take the long view and go with the latter.

"Cars And Girls"

Even while trying to become a pop star, I thought the whole business of pop music was stupid. I have long felt at odds with myself regarding the entertainment business.

Cars and Girls

© Brian Hutzell 1984

The lines were tasteful

Elegant poetry

Lyrically flowing from metaphor to simile

Exquisite symbolism

Meshed with psychological probings

Enough to tantalize the mind

Without demeaning the listener.

I played it for the man behind the desk

And he heard graceful melodies

Tinged with jazz

And clever quotes from classics

He heard wonderful music, imaginative thinking

My heart and my life, my deepest convictions

Were there on the tape

And the man with the desk said:

Cars and girls

That's what they want to hear

Cars and girls

Am I perfectly clear?

Cars and girls

Nothing hard to understand

Cars and girls

No sleight of hand

He was right of course; he'd been through it before

As my fame increased so did my bank account

And the songs I thought were gross were the ones that sold the most

People love it if it sounds good turned up loud

Cars and girls

That's what they want to hear

Cars and girls

Am I perfectly clear?

Cars and girls

Nothing hard to understand

Cars and girls

No sleight of hand

From the rise of Henry Ford, people never got bored

Of hearing 'bout a screaming machine

And silly love songs have been sellin' since the very first musician

Sang his courtship to the daughter of a queen

Cars and girls

That's what they want to hear

Cars and girls

Am I perfectly clear?

Cars and girls

Nothing hard to understand

Cars and girls

No sleight of hand

"BASS-ic Training"

BASS-ic Training

© 2013 Brian Hutzell

In any band, the rhythm section’s main job is to provide a steady beat. That being the case, why do so many people, musicians especially, get upset when the drums & bass are provided by a drum machine and sequencer? I’ve heard complaints that the machines are “too perfect.” Is that possible? Isn’t a steady beat what you want? And those machines can play tremendously difficult licks perfectly every single time! If you saw a live rhythm section playing that well, you’d be very impressed. The “live” concert experience is another subject open to many debates: How much of the show is pre-taped? How much is sequenced? How much is performed by additional musicians who are out of site? Does any of  that matter as long as the show is entertaining? At larger shows, is anybody beyond the first few rows even looking at the musicians? No! They’re all staring at the big screens. The band really needn’t bother showing up at all.

"Capture The Moment"

A month ago, it looked as if Hitomi and I would be moving back into the Boston are, but that was not to be. So we are still in Des Moines, and even though Des Moines is a nice enough place, it’s got me a little down. I grew up here, and always swore I’d leave at first opportunity and never come back. Like the old joke says: How do you make God laugh? Tell Him your plans! At present, I have no job, no prospects, and no marketable skills. Turns out most employers aren’t terribly impressed by my many years of experience as a musician. Why didn’t someone tell me this? Oh yeah, they did. EVERYBODY did. Time to pay the piper, I guess.

Capture the Moment

© 1987 Brian Hutzell

It's been said that opportunity

Favors those with open minds

One thing's true in each community

There's no immunity from the march of time

Capture the moment

Put it in your pocket

Capture the moment

Before it's gone

Capture the moment

Otherwise you've lost it

Those moments keep you company

As your life goes on

Precious moments pass before your eyes

See them, if you're so inclined

Beauty wasted won't apologize

Love doesn't hide

But you've got to look to find

Capture the moment

Put it in your pocket

Capture the moment

Before it's gone

Capture the moment

Otherwise you've lost it

Those moments keep you company

As your life goes on

Picture books are fine, but photos always fade

Memories will shine as long as they are saved

Don't throw them away

You might be surprised how quickly you forget

Things you've memorized

It's been said Good Fortune comes but once

Better recognize his call

You can meet him if you're bold enough

And when you do, there's no stopping you at all

Capture the moment

Put it in your pocket

Capture the moment

Before it's gone

Capture the moment

Otherwise you've lost it

Those moments keep you company

As your life goes on

"The Camera Turns Away"

In one way, writing these little introductory blurbs to my songs is easy: My attention span has shrunk to the point where it can be measured in seconds then counted on one hand, so short is good. What keeps them from being TOO easy is that there are just so darn many of them. I don’t want to write the same thing over and over for every song, so I keep needing new material. The first time I heard comedian Steven Wright, I thought it must be much harder to write his act, which consist of zillions of short observations, than it would be for the more standard comedian who tells longer stories, or who sticks with a single subject until the humor potential is exhausted. Writing in the latter format, you’d only need a handful of topics to fill a set onstage. To do it the Wright way, you’d need to come up with dozens of independent ideas. This is all a way for me to pat myself on the back and try to convince you, Dear Reader, that though this looks easy, I am actually toiling away very hard. If I toil even harder, my material may begin to approach the excellence of Steven Wright’s, but probably not.

The Camera Turns Away

© 1994 by Brian Hutzell

Hush it up! No one has to know

It’s just our little secret

We’ll never show and tell the world about it

That’s not the proper thing to say

We’ll save the story for when the camera turns away

They’ll never know; they’ll never suspect

It’s all up front; we’ve let them inspect the books

Let them photograph our honest looks

If that’s not enough, well, tough!

Hush it up! No one has to know

It’s just our little secret

We’ll never show and tell the world about it

That’s not the proper thing to say

We’ll save the story for when the camera turns away

The truth is dull--makes us look unkind

Doctor it up; no one will mind the ruse

And the proper slant makes for better selling news

While the tabloids speculate, the facts can wait

Shh! Be very still

Let them say what they will

If we like it we’ll let it stick

If not, we can contradict with a lie of our own

Live by the lie, die by the lie

Don’t you trust me now?

Live by the lie, die by the lie

Don’t you believe me now?

Hush it up! No one has to know

It’s just our little secret

We’ll never show and tell the world about it

That’s not the proper thing to say

We’ll save the story for when the camera turns away

"Calling For Rain"

I remember singing this song often and loudly in our apartment in Medford. The downstairs neighbors were more than tolerant with the amount of noise that was generated above them. Can you imagine worse tenants to live under than a bunch of musicians? To add insult to injury, I once asked a member of the ever courteous and long-suffering family below us (who were our landlords, but the way) to turn down their stereo as it was TOO LOUD. What nerve! I hope I’m less of a jerk now, but I wouldn’t bet on it.

When I first wrote these lyrics, I was very proud of them. Sometimes in those cases, I am afraid to revisit a song because I often find that what I once thought was genius is in fact garbage. Happily, that's not the case here. I still like these lyrics. That doesn't necessarily mean they're brilliant; it may just mean that I'm not good at recognizing garbage.

Calling For Rain

© Brian Hutzell 1987

Last night, she told you you were Prince Charming
How nice, smile at you those eyes adoring
First bite may taste safe but there's no harm in foresight
Wouldn't hurt to look past morning
You think you'll never have a cloudy day
You think everything will be okay
You think the sun is here to stay
Don't kid yourself - it's gonna rain

Calling for rain, calling for rain
I heard the news and the weatherman said
Calling for rain, calling for rain
If you go out, better cover your head
Calling for rain, calling for rain
Nothing will grow if it never gets wet
Calling for rain, calling for rain
Look at the clouds, they're calling for rain

Sometimes feels as if you are the only
One who's breaking in new territory
New ground, care for it and hope it won't be cut down
Cause it's a familiar story
And though you've heard it in a thousand songs
Now you don't mind when the tune comes on
You'll listen till your mind is numb
Don't kid yourself - it's gonna come

Calling for rain, calling for rain
How can it be; there's s clear blue sky
Calling for rain, calling for rain
Nothing to indicate something awry
Calling for rain, calling for rain
You'd like to predict things are gonna stay dry
Calling for rain, calling for rain
Even the obvious evidence lies

Calling for rain, calling for rain
I heard the news and the weatherman said
Calling for rain, calling for rain
If you go out, better cover your head
Calling for rain, calling for rain
Nothing will grow if it never gets wet
Calling for rain, calling for rain
I see the signs, and the future is calling for

Changes in the climate
Who's crying now?
Time, uninvited
Is a window past the pain
Where you see the green the rain brings

You're finding things you don't want to feel
And now you seem to have lost your shield
You think you're safe behind the wall
Don't kid yourself - it's gonna fall

"BASS-ed On a True Story"

BASS-ed On a True Story

© 2013 Brian Hutzell

“15 Bass Pieces” began life as a list of song titles playing off of the word “bass.” I remember making the list at the West Des Moines Public Library. The experience was memorable only because I was annoyed by a fellow library patron blabbing away loudly on his cellphone. It bothers me that people no longer know how to behave not only in libraries, but in public places in general. It also bothers me when the figures of authority present fail to do anything about it. Even worse is when a kid is clearly misbehaving and the parent is either ignoring the problem or also misbehaving. Hey, you kids! Gets off my lawn! And take your folks with you!

"BASS-ball"

BASS-ball

© 2013 Brian Hutzell

One of the things I have always enjoyed in short story collections is when the authors write an introduction to the story. Harlan Ellison is especially good at this. That’s probably what inspired me to write little blurbs about all of my various songs, artworks, etc.  Plus the short format suits my attention span these days, which last about as long as Oh look! A Squirrel! 

"BASS-al Metabolism"

BASS-al Metabolism

© 2013 Brian Hutzell

Wally got me started on running when we were living in Revere, Massachusetts. I didn’t particularly like it at first, but later that summer, after I’d moved to Boston’s South End, I began running in earnest along the Charles River Esplanade. That was also the summer when I first began tanning in earnest, lying by the river and reading. Relaxing in the sun with a good book is still one of my favorite ways to spend an afternoon.

"BASS Face"

BASS Face

© 2013 Brian Hutzell

I’ve lately been blogging about some of my song lyrics, but that excludes all of the pieces I’ve written which don’t have lyrics. To correct that error of omission, I’m going to put up a few of my instrumental ditties, beginning with this one from a set of short bass exercise I wrote called “15 Bass Pieces.” (Apparently I used up all of my cleverness on the individual song titles, and didn’t have much left over for the collection title.) 

"Calculus"

As a kid, I had lots of big plans, and one of them involved a complex over-the-top complex piece of music to be called “Calculus.” I eventually created both a song and a piece of art with that title, but neither came close to what I’d originally imagined. Art is full of compromises, at least mine is. Sometimes that’s the only way to get it finished.

Calculus

© 1992 Brian Hutzell

How to begin, confusion again

Looks like a dump, sounds like a foreign language

Estimate the time and the date

Feel like a chump--watching the future languish

Combat ignorance

Give it a smack with Calculus

At bat, each of us

Go to the mat with Calculus

Angles arise, foolish and wise

Think it's a crock:  pretending they have the answers

Stumbling block--sharing a drink with cancer

Combat ignorance

Give it a smack with Calculus

At bat, each of us

Go to the mat with Calculus

Hang on to innocence

Give it a hand with Calculus

Do something scandalous

Take a stand with Calculus

Attention subjects!  Heed the call!

Unwise objections won't resolve

The problems facing us today

Don't be naive; they won't go away

But that ignorance,

Given a smack with Calculus

Won't stand the slightest chance

Driven back with Calculus

Hang on to innocence

Give it a hand with Calculus

Do something scandalous

Take a stand with Calculus

"Busy Signal"

Some of the worst moments of my life were only awful because I made them so, waiting by the phone for a call that never came. I’ve written about this subject a few times. As a song, “Waiting For Your Call” is better, but the desperation comes through more in these spare lyrics. Now that I think of it, on those occasions when I found myself waiting anxiously for a call, I did indeed have reason to be worried, as subsequent events proved.

Busy Signal

© Brian Hutzell 1990

I try to call you
I get a busy signal
Who are you talking to?
I have to solve this riddle

I try to call you
Your line is busy

Who is he?

My line is never busy
I'm keeping it open
My hand it getting itchy
The longer I'm hoping
You'll call me
I'm all free
And it doesn't matter who you are
The call is all I need

I'll be here to love you
My line is open and so am I
Call me...anything

"Burn Your Fingers"

Was there ever a time I could sing these lyrics with a straight face? I doubt it. Certainly not now. I like the music for this one, and the recording, made at Hinge Studio in Chicago, came out pretty well, but those words…sheesh! But why stop with embarrassing words?

Why not accompany them with an embarrassing photo! 

Burn Your Fingers

© 1994 Brian Hutzell

Once, you were taught

The iron is too hot, too hot

Careful of the stove

Don’t get too close, too close

But the warnings didn’t kill your hunger for the thrill

If you like to swelter, come to me; I’ll give you shelter

Burn your fingers, burn your fingers on me

Burn your fingers, burn your fingers on me

If you’re in the mood for danger, excitement and such

If you’re not afraid to blister, I’ll tell you where to touch

Burn your fingers, burn your fingers on me

Burn your fingers, burn your fingers on me

When you fly

Don’t go too high, too high

The blazing sun

Could be too much, too much

The power of the star tempting you to ride too far

Be aware you could be stung when the fire flicks his tongue

Burn your fingers, burn your fingers on me

Burn your fingers, burn your fingers on me

Can you take the furnace?  Feel your body sizzle and scorch

Welcome to my inferno; let me light your torch

Burn your fingers, burn your fingers on me

Burn your fingers, burn your fingers on me

If you’d rather burn than smolder--rather play it rough than nice

Come to my volcano; become the sacrifice

Burn your fingers, burn your fingers on me

Burn your fingers, burn your fingers on me

"Broken Night"

Another Wally & Brian long distance collaboration, this is one I have frequently performed live on solo gigs. Because I’ve kept it alive in my repertoire for so long, I have a deeper relationship with this song than I do with many others. Rather than becoming meaningless through repetition, the lyrics have resonated differently with me through the years depending on my personal life situation and the state of the world around me.

Broken Night

© 1994 Brian Hutzell and Wally Koekebakker

Look at the view from here

Should I be impressed?

It must be nice when the sky is clear

But today it’s just another fine mess.

What shall I tell you when the words are all gone?

Who should I turn to with so much to be done?

Recreating mistakes past, with the starring roles miscast

The cluttered background masks events

About which we’re not supposed to ask

March on, march into war

Better to be left behind on a broken night

Yes, we’re still friends

And the world looks the same

Just a few more loose ends and a few more names

Recreating mistakes past, with the starring roles miscast

The cluttered background masks events

About which we’re not supposed to ask

March on, march into war

Better to be left behind on a broken night

I walked out this morning, missing your company

Hope I haven’t offended you by speaking openly

Don’t mean to preach

Stop me if I reach that point

Erase all your reservations

And don’t sandblast this conversation

Recreating mistakes past, with the starring roles miscast

The cluttered background masks events

About which we’re not supposed to ask

March on, march into war

Better to be left behind on a broken night

"The Boulevard Song"

Still reading Nick Hornby’s Ten Years In the Tub. On page 151, he mentions the band Slipknot in the context of using music as a torture device. My parents have some good friends, the Joneses. I have known them for many years, long enough to remember when their kids were very young. A few years back, my mom casually mentioned on the phone that one of the Jones boys, Craig, was in a band. Now I’m still thinking of Craig as a little kid, so I politely say something like, “That’s nice. What’s the band’s name?” “Slipknot.” Well, knock me over with a feather! More like an anvil followed by a sledgehammer. I think Slipknot may be the most culturally important thing Des Moines ever gave to the world. I’m not a fan of their music, but they’ve made an impact. For all of my training, practicing, endless gigging, etc., my music career has yielded nada in terms of financial or critical success. Craig has me beat by several million to naught. I'd love to be well-known enough to have my name casually dropped as a cultural reference, even as a torture device.

I’m bugged by songwriters who use words that normal people never use, especially in pop songs that are supposed to be for the everyday people. “Boulevard” is not an advanced or obscure word, but when’s the last time you heard it used in conversation? For most of us, this word has only one use: to rhyme with “hard” in bad lyrics. That’s what this song is about.

The Boulevard Song

© 1994 Wally Koekebakker and Brian Hutzell

You’re in love and someone else comes along

The same old story, but the plot is wrong

And you don’t know who you can count upon

But I’m here

You can call me tonight

Try to make it seem all right

Everybody told you it was gonna be hard

And writes a song about a lonely boulevard

I’m here to show you just how wrong they are

Those cliché rhymes happen all the time with harmonica and guitar

You’ve got a lot of love to share

And tell yourself you’re only being fair

They’re not gonna see it that way

Pretty soon there’ll be no on there but me

You can call me when you feel a time of need

Everybody told you it was gonna be hard

And writes a song about a lonely boulevard

I’m here to show you just how wrong they are

Those cliché rhymes happen all the time with harmonica and guitar

Turn off that solemn music

Listen to a brighter melody

No use hearing melancholy

Find a jolly up-tempo beat

And the pain you feel is still there and still real

But you will be surprised how fast you heal

Everybody told you it was gonna be hard

And writes a song about a lonely boulevard

I’m here to show you just how wrong they are

Those cliché rhymes happen all the time with harmonica and guitar

"What I'm Reading Now"

When I was a kid, my parents took me to Silver Dollar City in Branson, Missouri. There was an attraction there called Herman’s Heaven, the highlight of which was a darkened room of mirrors and strings of lights that gave the impression of infinity. I’ve been intrigued by that layered effect ever since. Like the book cover of a man holding the book cover of a man…you get the idea.

I’ve been reading Nick Hornby’s Ten Years in the Tub, which is a book about books. One of the books he writes about is Gabriel Zaid’s So Many Books, which is another book about books. I wanted to mention that just so that I could add one more layer: I’m telling about a book telling about a book telling about books.

What I'm Reading Now

© 1992 Brian Hutzell

They accused me of not knowing what's going on

Told me I had no clue

Said I was hiding in a shell

Wrapped up in a silk cocoon

What they didn't know: the part about you

What they didn't see: the part about me

And the fact that now I'm free

If they could see what I'm reading now

What has happened to allow me to read what I'm reading now

We broke up, and I have lots of free time

Unless I constantly read, I can't control my mind

And it turns to you

And I freak out

Gotta forget about you

Get a new life now

And new books to read in new languages

Pages of stuff I'll absorb like an undiscriminating sponge

Only to forget it a week after I'm done

It appears I'm crawling in a hole

But that's only part of the story

There is a reason for what I do

And my library likes it too

What they didn't know: the part about you

What they didn't see: the part about me

And the fact that now I'm free

If they could see what I'm reading now

What has happened to allow me to read what I'm reading now

If they could see what I'm reading now

What has happened to allow me to read what I'm reading now

"Bottle In The Bedroom"

I recorded this song for my cassette collection “Making a Mess,” which is one of my personal favorites. It’s just a bunch of early songs I wrote, recorded in “everything-including-the-kitchen-sink” fashion. No commercial potential whatsoever! I began work on a sequel, “Another Fine Mess,” but never finished it. I leave a trail of unfinished projects wherever I go.

Bottle In The Bedroom

© 1983 Brian Hutzell

She's living with a bottle by her bed

It helps her get to sleep by lightening her head

"Just a little now and then," she says

But that little bit can sometimes make a mess

You know, making a mess of her brain

Making her insane

Making a mess of her mental facility

Hampering her mechanical ability

Wreaking havoc with her thought processes

When taken in reckless excesses

(Would you like a drink?)

She's got a bottle in the bedroom

And she touches it more and more

What does she need it for?

It knocks her to the floor

In the morning her head is sore

All the time it's making a mess

(Oh yes!)

Making a mess of her sense of discretion

Creating unneeded liquid excretion

She's got a bottle in the bedroom

And it's making a mess

And why should I have to clean it up?

That's not my job

She's such a slob

She can't even tell she's losing touch

Something she does not think about much