Category Archives: Music

Beats the Alternative

One of my first bloggin’ buddies, Georgette of Georgette Sullins’ Blog tagged me for a blogging game.  My choice of morning activities was to respond or clean the house.  Guess which I chose.

The Rules:

1. Post these rules. (CHECK)
2. Post a photo of yourself and eleven random facts about you. (CHECK-ish)
3. Answer the questions given to you in the tagger’s post.  (CHECK)
4. Create eleven new questions and tag new people to answer them. (CHECK)
5. Go to their blog/twitter and let them know they have been tagged. (I’m goin’, I’m goin’)

Here’s me.  Sort of.

Yes, I'm a hairy beast.  Mine is more blondish red, but same idea

Yes, I’m a hairy beast. Mine is more blondish red, but same idea
(Google image)

Eleven facts you may not know about me.

  1. No one has ever accused me of being neat.
  2. I went to secretarial school.
  3. People for whom I worked as a secretary in the 1970s are still trying to find stuff I filed.
  4. My interest in politics started during the Vietnam War but really took off in my freshman year of college when a professor suggested I take his course then next semester.  He thought I was brilliant, so I took his course for an easy “A.”  It was a course on the Kennedys  — the best history course I ever took.
  5. I cannot work on one thing all day.  My mind bounces around too much.  I call it a “Superball”; others say it’s ADHD.  You choose.
  6. My husband John and I were introduced by my old boyfriend, Erik; they worked together.  John and I often sat next to each other at firm functions and insulted each other mercilessly.  Erik used to get really mad at me because “other people just don’t understand that you are joking.”  John and I started dating 4-5 years after I broke up with the other guy.  The “people that didn’t understand” were a bit surprised.
  7. I was Daddy’s girl from the start.  I’m guessing conception.
  8. My brothers and sisters didn’t hate me because Daddy liked me best.  They used me to get Dad to say “yes” to something they wanted.  Worked for me.
  9. I routinely skipped school in 4th grade.
  10. I feel panicky whenever I have to drive across railroad tracks after living next to the NY-New Haven railroad line growing up.
  11. When we got bored just hopping across the railroad tracks when a train was approaching, my brother and I used to pull down our pants and then hop across the tracks in front of approaching trains.  Yup, every day is a gift.

Now, here are my answers to Georgette’s questions:

1. Did you have a cousin close in age to you?

Maureen, my mother’s sister Ruth’s daughter is 10 months older than me.  Aunt Ruth was a widow and she and Maureen spent most Sundays at our house.  Aunt Ruth was always placing Maureen and me back-to-back to see which was taller.  Of course Maureen always “won.”  It used to make me cry.  I didn’t like Maureen much as a kid.  We’re great friends now.

2. What was the first novel that transported you?

My sister Beth used to read my brother Fred and I the classics, right from the start, and I’ve always read voraciously.  But the first time I remember really consciously being aware of the power of words to transport was when I read Great Expectations.  I was then at the intersection between my own childhood and adolescence.  Dickens, who was clearly an adult when he wrote it, was able to go back so clearly and understandingly into Pip’s childhood feelings that I was comforted that I’d always be able to go back to mine.

3. Is the work you do to pay the bills a passion or practical?

My career has been completely accidental.  In my teens I dreamed of being an actress and a singer.  My mother worked in an office and it seemed like the worst sort of drudgery imaginable.  In my arrogance, I knew I was better than that.  More interesting.  More creative.  Smarter.  (See The Silver Lining – thankfully, I grew out of being such an ass.  Mostly.)

But I had health problems – colitis they thought (it’s actually Crohn’s).  I would always need health insurance and so my parents forced me, kicking and screaming, to secretarial school.

They were right.  I HAVE always needed health insurance.  But I managed to turn secretarial jobs into other (still office-bound) jobs that have been more rewarding and really interesting.  I have been incredibly lucky.

My current job is wonderful.  I get paid to write and to learn and to look at this wonderful view every day from my office window.

(Google image)

(Google image)

I have no complaints about taking the practical path.

4. Do you have a favorite country western song? If so, which is it?

5. If you could (or do) grow a garden would there be flowers or vegetables to fill it?

The only successful gardens I’ve ever had were vegetable ones.  There is nothing like the taste of that first tomato.

6. What would you like to see in the US that you haven’t seen yet? Or abroad?

In the US, I’d like to see some more of the west, particularly the National Parks – the Grand Canyon and Yellowstone (Jellystone would be nice, too 😉 I’d love to meet Yogi and Boo-boo)

In Europe, I’d love to see Rome.  But not when they’re trying to elect a Pope.

7. Have you ever caught a fish? If so, tell us about it.

One summer night when I was 7, our first summer living near the beach, my brother Fred grabbed me and we ran to the beach. There was a creek that ran with the tide, which was coming in.  Fish were swimming upstream to spawn.  The moon was full and shining off the silver scales of millions of fish.  We went in the water and caught one with our hands, took it home and put it in the bathtub.  We were going to keep it as a pet.  He(?) surprisingly died and we buried him in our garden that year.

I’ve never seen anything like it.  We never saw the fish migrate like that again — it was magical.  I think of it every time I see moonlight on water.

8. What’s your favorite breakfast, lunch or dinner meal?

Dinner:  Roast beef (medium rare) with gravy, egg noodles and green beans.  I don’t eat too much beef any more so it is a rare and wonderful treat when I do.

9. Have you been surprised recently? What surprised you? When?

Blogging has surprised me constantly since I started doing it.  I didn’t expect to make so many friends this way.

10. What is a state you have never traveled to, but you plan to visit someday?

Colorado.  I’ve never been and I love mountains.  It sounds like the perfect place.  I’d also love to visit the Pacific Northwest.

11. Is there a 2012, 2013 movie you would recommend?

Lincoln and the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.

Now I get to ask questions:

  1. Were you closer to Mom or Dad (if you were spawned by aliens, please explain)
  2. There are moments in history that everyone alive at that time remember (for me it was the Kennedy assassination).  What was your first?
  3. Favorite pet ever
  4. Funniest quote
  5. Best insult you ever delivered and why the recipient deserved it.
  6. First memory
  7. What do you dislike most about blogging?
  8. Do your friends/family members read your blog?
  9. How would you be using your time right now if you weren’t answering my stupid questions
  10. Your dream job.
  11. What you expect to be reincarnated as in your next life?

And now, my victims.  Please feel free to ignore this or do it.  It is your choice.  I will not be hurt, I will not, in fact, stop stalking you.  I chose folks I thought would continue speaking to me after naming them.  If you’re not on it, you weren’t forgotten.   But feel free to answer my questions.  Feel free, in fact to make up your own.

Benze from Benzeknees

Carrie of The Write Transition

Cheryl of Crumb Snatcher Tales

Chris of Word Play

Cooper of Security is for Cadavers

Courtney of The adventures of Miss Widget

GOF from The Bucket

Guap of Guapola

Janice of Aurora Morealis

John of Johnbalaya

Lisa from The Big Sheep Blog

Michelle of The Green Study

Peg of  Peg-o-Leg’s Ramblings

Rara of Rarasaur.

Revis of Stuphblog

Sandy of Sandy like a Beach

S7 of Speaker 7

Tops from Life With The Top Down

TwinDaddy of Stuphblog

Val of QBG Tilted Tiara

62 Comments

Filed under Bloggin' Buddies, Books, Childhood Traumas, Family, Humor, Music, Pets, Stupidity, Word Press

Marriage Strains?

There’s nothing like the sound of young love.

Well, except when I try to eavesdrop on my son and his girlfriend.  Then the sound of young love – “dub step” — is, well, not “moon/June/spoon”- inducing.

Back when John and I fell in love, well, things were different.  Music was wonderful, made to share.  And so I did.

About three months after John and I started dating, I made him a tape.  (For the youngin’s amongst us, it’s like a portable playlist that can be played on any appropriate device available in the prehistoric period in which your parents were, ummm, young.)  Yes, I made my love a cassette tape of my very favorite songs from that and every era.  It contained, among other songs, the following:

Juice Newton, The Sweetest Thing

Joni Mitchell, A Case of You

Bonnie Raitt:  Home

Linda Ronstadt:  Blue Bayou

It was too late when I learned that not only did John not love the songs I loved, he hated them.  Every single one of them.  Over the years, he has solidified his position.  For example, John has threatened to divorce me should I sing Blue Bayou within range of his supersonic ears, an approximate 5 square mile range.

Let me tell you this:  It is not an ideal situation for a critically acclaimed former singer to be banned from singing her favorite songs.  Especially when the ban includes those rare times when I am actually doing housework.  It has been a rather sticky issue for 26 years now.

I try to be accommodating because I am wonderful.  And because I have a huge repertoire of first verses of songs that will get stuck in John’s head for when he really pisses me off.  John has been accommodating by vacating the house immediately when I begin singing/playing/thinking about any of these songs.  Generally he is in search of a divorce lawyer.

But you know what?  Payback is hell.

You see, in the past, I’ve often told John that he needs to outlive me, because I don’t want to have to deal with all our financial issues.  Seriously —  I haven’t balanced a checkbook since we got married, and I don’t intend to start.

But now, after reading an article in today’s Reuters.com, I’m reconsidering my position on who gets to “go” first.  You see, I read that there is:

No rest for the dead with surround-sound coffin

Because now I can get John a specialty coffin complete with seriously impressive stereo speakers, hooked up to the latest iPod/music technology.  And I will get to choose the playlist.

I wonder if I can find that cassette.

Coffin speakers

I promise I will only need one.

Payback is, literally, hell.

89 Comments

Filed under Family, Health and Medicine, Humor, Mental Health, Music, Technology

Home for Christmas

She told the story every year with a warm smile on her face.  Sometimes her eyes got a little bit misty.

“It was 1943, and the War was on, and your father was in the Navy, on a ship somewhere in the Pacific.  We never knew where he was.  Like all the other boys I knew, he was in danger every day.  We lived for the mail, we were terrified of unfamiliar visitors in uniform.  A telegram sent us into a panic.  And ‘I’ll be home for Christmas’ had just been recorded by Bing Crosby.  It was Number One on the Hit Parade.”

That’s how Mom started the story every time.

Of course I’ll Be Home For Christmas was Number One that year.  Everyone, or just about, was hoping that someone they loved would, in fact, be home for Christmas.  That all the boys would be home for good.  But all too many people were disappointed.  I doubt there were many dry eyes when that song came on the radio that year or for the next few.

Mom and Dad got engaged right around Pearl Harbor Day, but the War lengthened their courtship significantly because Dad enlisted shortly after the attack.  It was to be a long war, and a long engagement.  But Mom was in love with her handsome man.  If possible, I think that Dad was even more so.

Mom, Circa 1943

Mom, Circa 1943

 

My Dad was drop-dead gorgeous, and I have heard that in his single days, he was a bit of a ladies’ man.  Every girl in town, it seemed, had a crush on Dad.

Dad, Circa 1943

Dad, Circa 1943

 

In fact, my Aunt Sally once told me that she had been manning a booth at a church bizarre one Saturday in about 1995, when an elderly woman came up to talk to her.

“Are you Freddie E’s sister?” the woman asked Aunt Sal.

“Yes I am.  Do you know my brother?” Aunt Sal responded.

“I did,she sighed.  “I haven’t seen him since we graduated from high school in 1935.  Sixty years ago.  He was,” she stopped to think of just the right word, “… He was dream-my.”

“He still is,” Sally quipped.

One day not long after after Mom had passed, Dad and I were looking at some pictures I hadn’t seen before.

“Dad,” I told him with wonder looking at a particularly good shot, “You should have gone to Hollywood.  You’d have been a star.”

“Nah,” Dad said.  “Mom would never have gone with me.  And once the war was over, well, I wasn’t going anywhere else without her.”

Dad circa 1935

Dad circa 1935

Dad never quite got over feeling lucky that he had Mom.  And he never stopped loving her.

But back to Mom’s story.

“It was Christmas morning, 1943, and I went over to visit Dad’s mom and dad.  Grammy E’d had symptoms of Parkinson’s Disease for seven or eight years at that point.  She could still move around (she was later, when I knew her, almost completely paralyzed), but she could barely talk.”

Mom continued.  But your Dad’s mom was singing ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas.’  Well, she was trying to sing it, any how. She kept repeating that one line, over and over again.  ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas.’  I thought she was crazy.”

“You see,” Mom would say, “Your father had somehow managed to get Christmas leave – he was coming home!  He wanted to surprise me and wouldn’t let anyone tell me he was coming.  He was expected any minute, and there I was, trying to leave.  But I couldn’t stay.  That song made me cry; Freddie was so far away, and in so much danger.  I couldn’t bear hearing it.”

So Mom left after a while, she had other people and her own family to see.  Later Dad caught up with her and they spent most of Christmas together.  Both of them always smiled at the memory.  Dad was home for Christmas that year, just like in the song.  It was a magical year for them both.

Mom was always touched by Dad’s surprise and by his mother’s loving gesture in fighting back the paralysis that was taking over her body to try to get her son’s girl to stay.  To sing when she could barely speak.

“I’ve always wished I’d stayed.”

We lost Mom on Easter of 1997, and Dad really never got over her passing.

The song and Mom’s story took on an even more poignant meaning in 2000.  Because on Christmas of that year, Dad joined Mom again for the holiday.  He went “home” to Mom for Christmas again, joining her in the afterlife.

Even through the sadness of losing Dad on Christmas, I always have to smile when I hear that song.  Because I can just see the warmth in Mom’s eyes now as she welcomed Dad home.  This time, I’m sure she was waiting for him with open arms.

100 Comments

Filed under Family, History, Humor, Mom, Music

I’ll Be Seeing You

I don’t know what you’re going to do for the next few days.  I mean without me.  Because I am pretty sure that you won’t be hearing from me for a bit.

Why?

Sandy, of course.

Damn — not THAT Sandy.  This one, The “Frankenstorm”:

The Weather Channel Hurricane Specialist Carl Parker says Sandy is expected to bring widespread damage over a wide area.
SHIT.

Some areas are prepared for nasty weather events.  Given that the Greater Washington DC  area closes down with snow flurries, well, it won’t be pretty here, even though other areas will likely get hit harder.

Still, I can safely say that:

  • I will be powerless for many days.
  • I will have no running water until the power comes back on sometime around Thanksgiving.
  • Trees will fall on my once wooded lot and I will have to remortgage to pay for the cleanup.  Then I will plant wheat.
  • I will be unable to flush the toilet for a very long time which is especially pleasant if you live with Crohn’s Disease.
  • I will be unable to shower for days.
  • We will not relocate to a hotel because it would upset our dog, Cooper, too much.  Cooper is very old and has been dying any day now for nearly three years.  He will bury John and I when we smell so bad that he mistakes us for dead animals.
  • I will not be pleasant to sit next to until sometime after the election when I promise to shower.

I can also safely say that I will be going completely out of my minds being unable to check polls, hear about what is happening in the run-up to the election and what stupid things Ann and Mitt Romney, and Pauly Ryan have said lately.

But you won’t have to suffer, unless you too are in Sandy’s way.  When you are looking for your bizarre little bits of what the crazies on the left are doing, here are two of my favorite locations:

http://www.dailykos.com/

http://crooksandliars.com/

Meanwhile, until the storm starts, I will be at the grocery store.  Handing out copies of this picture:

You gonna vote for a guy with even less heart than Bush???

 *     *     *

To all my friends who are also in Sandy’s way, good luck with the storm.  Remember, that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.  And of course, by “stronger” I mean more fragrant.

To all of you who are not impacted by Sandy, please go to our websites frequently so that we will feel the love later, when we have electricity and want to know that our bloggin’ buddies have been by to help keep our stats up.

And Sandy of Sandylikeabeach?  I expect you here by Friday with a chain saw!

81 Comments

Filed under Bloggin' Buddies, Campaigning, Climate Change, Criminal Activity, Family, Global Warming, Humor, Hypocrisy, Music, Real Estate, Voting

Me and Julie

One week after landing in a hazy, overcast, gray Geneva, Switzerland, I had my very first taste of what I’d moved 3,000 miles to experience.  And it was, of course, magical.

I was alone for the first time in weeks.  Exploring.  John was working, Jacob was safely at his first day of school.  I was on my own, with only our Bernese Mountain Dog, Charlie, for company, when it happened.

I was driving down the Route de Divonne when the clouds, at long last, parted.  And there they were – just past the now glistening Lake Geneva — the mountains.  Mont Blanc, with its year-round snowy peak, the highest mountain in Europe. The Alps, danced right there, just through my windshield.  I could practically reach out and touch them, taste them, smell their beauty.  It was magical.  Breathtaking.  Inspiring.  Unforgettable.

Google image

I felt like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music.  You know just what I mean, don’t you.  I felt like Julie when she is up there in the mountains by herself.  When she throws her arms wide and sings with all her heart, The Hills Are Alive, With the Sound of Music.  And they are.  Trust me.

I slowed down, tried to breathe, tried to memorize the moment and keep it in my heart. Tried to capture the moment forever.  I also tried not to hit another car.

And then, well, something else happened.  From a side street to my left came a small car.  It turned in front of me, pulling behind it a long green open-air trailer.  Neatly stenciled on the back in a lacy, delicate script were these words:

jardin naturel

“Natural Garden,” in french.

And on top of that trailer sat the largest pile of steaming cow manure I have ever seen.

And so, my first solo excursion in the Swiss countryside became a metaphor for life as an ex-patriot living there:  There were moments of majestic beauty that I call “Julie Andrews Moments,” when I was filled with beauty and awe and felt like the luckiest person on earth.

And there was a lot of shit.  These two elements combined with travel to places I never dreamed I’d see, made our time in Geneva the adventure of a lifetime.

*     *    *

Some of my bloggin’ buddies have asked me to write more about our time in Geneva, and I figured it is about time I did.  It was a wonderful experience, and not a day goes by that I don’t miss my  non-home-away from home, Switzerland.

88 Comments

Filed under Driving, Elections, Geneva Stories, Humor, Music