The End of the Year

 as this year comes to a close, people start talking about - and making lists- of two things

1-Best and worst things that happened

2- Resolutions for the Coming Year

I am not going to go on about making a list ( well, maybe I am) but this last year kind of bit ( past tense of bites!  People I loved died suddenly an d the Orange Shitgibbon was elected. Trying to look for the good stuff in my life I come up with things I looked over the calendar.   It looks like we spent a lot of time at Kaiser this year, rivaled ONLY by the amount of time our cars spent in the shop.  BUT we went to dinner and concerts and the Zoo and the Wild Animal Park and the beach, mostly with friends and well, you get the idea.

This year had balance and while not everything was sunshine and roses as far as some things are concerned, we had a pretty ok year.  Chris and I celebrated 15 years of marriage.  It's funny , because it seems both less time than that and more time, as if the time before did not exist.

Earlier this month, I flew to visit my kids and my grandkids.  They live in a beautiful place and I am super proud of them.  They took a Leap of Faith and made a life in another part of the country. It was wonderful to see them, it's been a while.

Resolutions are funny.  Most people decide to change something they will do for a month or two and then go back to the path of least resistance and give up, going back to the thing they want to change.  I think maybe it's because it focuses in a negative way rather than positive ( I'm going to lose weight, I'm going to eat healthier0  There has to be a positive spin on it ( I'm going to the park more often, I'm going to try new foods) Years ago, I vowed to do more volunteer things and some of it was super fun (Operation Gratitude) and some of it turned me off doing ANYTHING remotely related to that group ever again ( I'm looking at YOU, Burbank Rose Parade Float people who treated volunteers like serfs)

I doubt I will make any resolutions, except for one like this.  Years ago, I read a book called "A Crack in the Sidewalk"  It was about a young girl who became a folk singer in the early 60's.  She came from a very poor but close family.  They are making New Year's Resolutions and they make one for her brother , who was probably severely autistic.  They decided that he would resolve to be happy ( he was ALWAYS happy)

So I'm gonna shoot for that.  More visits to the Zoo and the park and the beach. More dinners with friends here at Casa Myers, more music, more laughter and to quote Davis Crosby:

But I'm not giving in an inch to fear
'Cause I promised myself this year
I feel like I owe it to someone

Thinking about art.

 I don't have an artistic bone in my body. While I suppose that writing is an art, this is just a natural outcropping of my rather frantic brain.  I titled my blog "inside Robyn's brain" and put up a warning that you would be meandering in my mind as I sought to free whatever words were trying to get out.

I admire people who can paint, or draw or create visual art.  I love "representational" art, but get that modern art moves people as well. 

Art, in its many forms is necessary for human health, in my opinion.

As I seek to calm my mind with the storm that appears on the horizon of the Republican Administration, I will go to museums, concerts- while I can afford it, they have promised the Middle Class "great suffering" as part of their agenda to destroy the Middle Class and create two classes  Serfs and royalty.

I am off on a tangent I did not mean to follow, so you see where I am these days. I will seek out new museums, look for artists at street fairs, add to my art wall in my stairwell and hope.

Always. Hope.

Concerts- America at YAAMAVA November 22

 I have been going to concerts since 1972.  I saw James Taylor and the Section ( who opened for him)  It was wonderful and began a lifelong journey in the world of music and live performances.

Friday night , I went to Yaamava Casino  to see my favorite band in the world, America.  I saw the band in 1973 and their music always makes me feel happy.  Now it IS true that only one of the original members is still touring after 54 years. Dan passed away some years ago ( although he had left the band some years prior to that) and Gerry announced his retirement from the road last year.  That leaves Dewey as the one original member but the rest of the band is made up of wonderful musicians, including Rich Campbell who has been with them the longest. Andy Barr does a great job, handling what would be Gerry's vocals. Steve Fekete is a ball of energy, killer guitar player.  Ryland Steen is behind the kit, he also handles vocals and acquits himself quite nicely on both counts. 

Casino shows can be weird.  A lot of the audience is made up of "club members" who might have been comped the tickets or a lot of people who are casual fans, out for a fun night of drinking, gambling and entertainment. This was certainly the case on Friday night.

WHY tell me WHY do people think it's ok to have a full-blown conversation during the show?  We are NOT in your freaking living room!  The redneck old guys behind me were TALKING REALLY LOUD during the opening montage.  I LOVE the song that goes with it ans was looking forward to hearing it, not Jim-Bob's detailed description of changing his car bumper.  I gave both of them the GLARE twice and when that didn't work, I said " are you two planning on talking through the ENTIRE SHOW?"   "Jim-Bob" said  "what's your PROBLEM?  I said "your MOUTH!'  It stunned him into silence.

Since Dewey is the only remaining member, they do their hits, but delve into the deep cuts from Dewey's catalog. I knew all the songs, but a REALLY DRUNK AND LOUD casual fan in the back kept screaming "we came to hear America Songs!!!!"  They did their hits. I can't think of one they missed (well maybe Muskrat Love but NO ONE want to hear that song) they added Neil Young's  "Cinnamon Girl" ( which was a real treat to hear) and that seemed to set him off.  He started screaming that he didn't want to hear Neil Young . Well that makes you a party of one in my book.  I enjoyed it.

The only song change I would make is swap "Nothing's so far away as yesterday" for "Three Roses."  But really, as the fan at the start of Jackson Browne's Running on Empty  live album screams out PLAY WHAT YOU WANT!

I am not in charge of your set list.

We had a nice time.  Yaamava is a HUGE casino with disappointing food choices.  I paid 17 bucks for a "sandwich" that was literally three dry pieces of turkey under a SINGLE slice of bread, sliced diagonally. Inedible.  Seriously we shoulda gone to Denny's ( and I LOATHE Denny's)

The venue is nice.  We looked around and if we go there again, there are larger handicapped seats which might have made it more comfortable ( Chris has some disability issues, as do I)

All in all a nice Friday night adventure. We were celebrating our 15th anniversary.

Funerals

 About a week ago, my next door neighbor and a long cherished friend both left this earth.  While there will probably be no official service for my friend, yesterday I attended the services for my neighbor, who at 93 had lived a full and rich life.

I sat in the pew of the church reflecting.  The ceremony was in Armenian, except for some of it, which was bi-lingual. It gave me time to think about my neighbor, while the singing washed over me- the ceremony is mostly sung. I haven't attended church since I was a pre-teen, as I found that the church I was going to really weren't getting the "Love ye one another"  thing that Jesus espoused.  PLEASE don't jump on me and tell me I should come to YOUR Church , that it is different.  I tried that several times and realized that I don't get the peace that other people say they do from a sermon.  I have a connection to my Creator and that is all I need. Conversely, if you are atheist, don't jump on me for my belief system.  It works for me and you trying to cram your beliefs ( and it IS a belief) down MY throat is just as bad, as you are ALSO trying to convert me.

When the priest read from the Gospel according to Paul. I knew I was in trouble.  Paul is a misogynist and something of a pompous  jerk IMHO and this reading was no exception.  I looked at the floor and gritted my teeth when he intoned that "heaven was for Christians and ONLY Christians"  Ok then.  not going to Heaven.  Check.

He went back and forth about the Second Coming and how all souls would rise, then told us that my neighbor was with God.  Pick one belief or the other.  I don't get it.

I never look at the face of the deceased. I don't want my last memory to be that.  Probably has to do with my mother forcing me to kiss my dead grandmother at 7 years old.  I still remember it, almost 60 years later.

We went to the gravesite and put flowers and handfuls of dirt in the grave.  I hate that and usually avoid the graveside portion, but we needed to go, as her daughter, who is also my neighbor, requested it.  The service itself was traditional and I believe brought great comfort to the family.  For me, I never liked being preached to, but I am not being critical of what was done as a final farewell

But funerals are for the living, and the rituals of death and funerals are often a comfort. Grief is love with nowhere to go, as they say.  I'm tired of death.  Can someone get married or have a baby??

I need you- 53 years of America- THE BAND

 If you know me, then you know that my favorite band in the world is... America.  I have always loved their music ( except for that album I refer to as their unfortunate foray into the 80s disco-esque sound  BLEH)

So when I got a chance to go and see the WORLD PREMIERE of a documentary, detailing their over 53 year career I jumped at it.

The plan was to meet up with my newly "adopted" sister, Sally and her sister , Lauren.  Lauren is part of a photo that hangs on my living room wall in the background of the last photo we took of my MIL, Anna at an America concert in 2021.  Anna passed away three days after the photo was taken. It is both a sweet and sad memory.

We met up at the Bear Flag Fish Company for dinner, drinks and lively conversation with a group of people from the Fan Base.  What a treat to meet (finally) fellow fans Tom and Bonnie  AND to see Mo again ( girl, it's been far too long!)  The food and drink were good ( I may write a review on my Stuff you can Stomach blog)  And soon we were heading down to the venue, the lovely Lido Theater.  We stood at the very front of the waiting Queue  for quite some time.

As cars pulled up to drop people off, excitement grew.  Eventually the Beckley Family ( well Gerry and his sons Matt and Joe) got out of a car and they were greeted by the  newly dubbed "Eclectics" from our front of the line position.  Gerry graciously came over to talk to us ( he seemed really pleased to see Mo- aren't we all?) He took pictures with each of us.  I spoke with Matt and told him I missed seeing him perform. He's doing more producing now and I am sad not to see him play anymore. He is truly one of the nice guys and I get it, but HEY MATT just a small gig somewhere???  lol.

We sat in the second row. It really is a nice theater, old time-y but not uncomfortably so.  I paid FIVE DOLLARS for a small bag of M&Ms however so that was a bit excessive.

The documentary was wonderful.  Interspersed with photos and footage from their 53 year lives on the road. I laughed and cried. Gerry said something about acquiring too many instruments and I nudged my bass-player husband, whose collection takes up a substantial corner of our living room.  There are interviews with the group of  fans Gerry calls "the Nine Fans" I cried when Mo said she can't get through "another Try" without getting emotional.  I talked to her afterward about it.  That song always makes ME cry, coming at a time when I was going trough something similar.  We both wondered how Gerry had gotten in our heads- how he got that situation just right  however he did it, thank you, Gerry.  Knowing we are not alone helped me through that difficult time.

Music does that, doesn't it?

The guys and the team that put the documentary together did a Q&A that ran far longer than the venue intended.  Most notable things that I will carry with me:

The woman who thanked them for being the soundtrack of her life and her bond with her mother who loved "You can do Magic"  Gerry pointed out that since they were teens themselves, this music was also the soundtrack of their lives.

The eighteen year old young man sitting behind me, telling them that they were inspiring HIS dreams.

Like I said Music does that,

Too soon we were ushered out.  Since this WAS a film festival, we were asked to vote on how well we liked the film.  I snatched Mo's ballot out of her hand and tore the little corner off, marking it "excellent" I had already done the same for my ballot and Chris'.

I hope they win!

My only wish is that they had spent SOME time on some of the musicians that made up the rest of the band.  I am hoping for .. oh.. 30 hours of bonus content in the DVD release. 

There had BETTER be a DVD release!!!

Outside the theater, we met up with the very talented Campbell Family.  I talked to Glynnis about her new book ( hurry up) and Brynna about her projects ( her book was 75% done but since it was about a pandemic- written before the mess, she is working on it) IF you haven't hear Brynna's music, well you SHOULD  ( shameless plug )

 https://www.brynnacampbell.com/product/1000-masks-2022-album-by-brynna-campbell/

She is super talented.

We kept them talking far too late and Rich had to be ready to fly out in the very early morning.  I hope he got some sleep, he had a bit of a drive to get home.

The evening ended with an obligatory trip to Denny's ( just kidding it was really the only place open at midnight and the food at this one was better than some of them are)

We got home at 3:30.  A.M.   I'm STILL tired.

The week that was

 Not writing much and I ought to be.

Things have been so jumbled, so frantic I don't sit down at the keyboard to share my thoughts as much as I should- not for any readers, really but for my own sanity.

It's been a week.

On Sunday, my neighbor stood crying on my doorstep.  Her mother had died and she was just bereft. Her mom lived in the complex with us and her daughter would go to her place multiple times a day to bring her something or to visit.  There is a lot going on and I am trying to be helpful.  The only thing I could think of was making soup, which I did.  It took me to another time in my mind, when A friend's husband was killed in an accident . We were all very young.  I made soup and bread. I remember she told me that the only thing her son would eat was that soup and bread.

On Monday,  I was told that the sister of that  friend- who was one of my dearest friends- had died.  I am shocked and angry and grieving- all the reactions rolled into an impossible ball.   

On Tuesday, I met with friends old and new to see the Documentary "I need you: 53 years of the Band America"  It was an amazing night and I will be writing about THAT experience singularly as I need it to be a review, not a reflection of what is going on in my life right now.

So, hug your friends, call your mom, make some soup. dance. Sing. and LIVE!

Cemeteries

 Tomorrow marks 20 years since my mother died of Alzheimer's.  We drove down to Riverside National Cemetery to put flowers on her grave and to visit the grave of my friend Kaye who is also buried there.  It is a long drive and I had a lot of time to reflect both on the way there and on the way home.

AS I walked along the graves to find their stone, I reflected on the sacrifices of those men and women who are there.  Most of the graves near My folks and Kaye are older people who came home from the war and lived out their lives  There was no active war going on when they died, so the area is filled with soldiers who were presumably not on active duty.  Most near my dad say WWII or Viet Nam.

As I walked along the grass covered graves I thought of this poem .  I thought it was Whitman, but it turns out it was Carl Sandberg.

Grass

By Carl Sandburg

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.

Shovel them under and let me work—

                                          I am the grass; I cover all.

And pile them high at Gettysburg

And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.

Shovel them under and let me work.

Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:

                                          What place is this?

                                          Where are we now?

                                          I am the grass.

                                          Let me work

I thought about the people I did not know behind the names on the grave markers, saw what their loved ones placed on the headstones  I particularly liked the couple whose stone  ( after their names and dates) read " Forever Ice cream"  It made me smile, as I suppose it was intended to.

I did not have the desire to stand before any of the graves with a cheese-eating grin and a "thumbs up" I thought about how horrible I felt, looking at that picture this morning and I was sick at heart that the candidate and that soldier's family acted like they were at a picnic, rather than mourning her death. Maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe things have changed so much in this country that pictures like that one are the way we do it.  I don't know.

I thought about Arlington. Hallowed ground that began as a "fuck you" to Robert E. Lee whose front lawn was where the first bodies were buried. I found it interesting that the land belonged to Martha Washington's first husband and her son inherited it.  Her great-granddaughter ultimately inherited it.  She was married to Robert E. Lee -so since he was her husband, it became his.

Call me meanspirited, but I do not think that a former president who tried to overthrow the government, wants to destroy the Constitution, got out of the Vietnam war on a false medical diagnosis  and calls our brave soldiers "losers" and "suckers"  Should be buried at Arlington.  Let his rest beside his first wife in an unkept grave on his golf resort/cemetery in New Jersey.