Sleep poem

I had a dream about you
we were eating ice cream
in a shop window
when suddenly
we were in one of those
faux European commercials
where mannequins come alive and
you can drink from the glass inside the window
by pressing a straw against it

You drank some kind of dark green drink
pronounced it "delicious"
and all the while
music blared
the kind Millennials
are supposed to favor
(but I suspect they don't)
all pop-y
and the singer singing
in a flat monotone

I kept trying to write a poem
but the man you were with kept taking the scrap of paper from me
ruining my concentration
until you told him to leave me to finish
it  was about a goddess named Emma Still
an ice blonde with long elegant fingers
and bright red lips
who presided over something
which waking has made me forget

Happy Anniversary

This is gonna be short, because I am already running late but...

I got up a wee bit early this morning to make my husband his favorite cookie ( so Chris if you are reading this BEFORE coming downstairs, they are cooling on the table and should be ready by the time you are ready for work)

Eight years ago today, I married my best friend, my soulmate, Chris Myers. I know that I am truly blessed and am thankful every day that I made the rash decision to see a band called "Evita Freaks" back in September of 2007 at a dive bar in Studio City. Chris was playing bass with some of his childhood friends and I fell for him.  It took him a while to fall for me, but eventually it all worked out.

I'm not going to get all mushy, but our marriage has helped me in the worst of times and has given me the best of times. Little things make me happy and being married to a man who thinks of little things to make me happy is .. well.. the best!

So Happy anniversary, sweetheart. My dad used to tell my mom "that's one more year off my life sentence"  but I knew what he meant.  I love you, Christopher and I think everyone who knows me knows that!

Veteran's Day

"In Flanders Fields, the poppies blow, between the crosses, row on row."

I thought of the poem, written by John McRae, a battlefield doctor in World War One,  the "War to end all Wars"   if only THAT were true.  I thought this morning about those who died fighting and those who came back, changed by their experience.  My father was a World War Two vet, who fought at the Battle of the Bulge.  He talked about it more later in life.  One of the things he told me, you don't see in the history books.  He told me the housewives in St Vith brought their fine white lines out to the American soldiers to help them disguise their tanks and other equipment from the air.  It was Christmastime and there was snow on the ground.  My father asked one woman why she would do this.  She told him if the Germans won, they would not need the linens.

I am thinking about a vet i bought a poppy from, in front of a museum downtown, bout 10 years ago.  I bought it and waled away a bit.  then , overwhelmed, I went back and asked if I could hug him.  He said yes and we hugged. I cried.   It mean a lot to me.  I think you only see the WWII vets with poppies; even though they symbolize WWI, I think there is a carryover.  After all, the fathers of the WWII vets were the ones who fought in the War to end all wars.

Today, and every day really, I am grateful for those who fought.  While I did not always agree with sending out young men and women into battle (yes, Viet Nam) I had and have no quarrel with the soldier who did his or her duty.   Thank you for your service.   May we remember it always  and work together toward a day where we can argue and disagree without sending our people to fight and die for a disagreement ( Hitler was another story altogether..)

Things I think about while stuck on the 5

So, I'm going to commit a sin here. Last night while stuck in bumper to bumper traffic, my beloved soon-to-be-no-more radio station played "I want you ( she's so heavy") by the Beatles.  After what seemed to be 25 minutes of hearing John wail "she's so Heavy" over and over again I turned off the radio,  Nothing, at that moment, was more annoying than the Beatles, or at least that tune and I sat, musing in my silent car, why we used to think everything they did was golden and it was some kind of sacrilege  to dislike every single note by John , Paul, George or Ringo, even after they disbanded. I also cannot stand "Hey Jude"  the interminable  "na, na, na,na na na Hey Jude" goes on for - what- NINE minutes?  That's about six minutes too long.  We get it Paul.  I turn off the radio when it gets to that point too.  Anyone else with me?

So there's a lot of noise still about the NFL players kneeling.  For the record, I think they should be able to do whatever they feel before the game and I DON'T think it disrespects the flag or the soldiers or the veterans.  Didn't they fight and in some cases DIE for our right to freedom of speech, or does freedom of speech ONLY apply if you agree with what is being said?  In elementary school, there was a kid in my class who was atheist, which in the sixties was like declaring you worshiped Satan.  He refused to salute the flag and was picked on for it.  He wasn't one of the "popular" kids, but now over 50 tears later, I admire the courage it must have taken him NOT to go along to get along.  He followed his beliefs and stuck to them in the face of peer pressure.  As far as the NAACP wanting to change the national anthem because of a reference to slavery.  I don't know how I feel about it.  I need to look at the whole phrase and see what it says.  Does it glorify slavery or just refer to it?  After all it DID exist and it part of our past and one of the reasons for the Civil War ( there were others but that was chief among them) I need to see it, although that stanza  is never sung anymore.


As we go into Veteran's Day, I want to take a moment to shout out to all those who served and those who are serving now. I KNOW I KNOW  a "Veteran" is one who HAS served, but I want to thank those who have put themselves on the line for my freedom to state what is in my head, without fear of being dragged off to the Gulag

stuff...

Ok, fasten your seat-belts, it's going to be a bumpy night.

Yesterday, at work, I had an asthma attack.  It's been a while since I had one and it scared me.  I know what to do and was able to take care of it but.. wow. Probably brought on by stress and lack of sleep ( which is brought on by stress)   I am going to take this weekend to try to figure out what to do about.. everything.  I wish I could wave a magic wand and solve the situations that are bringing me down.  I can't and I am not going to be able to.   I need to talk to a few people.

Apropos of nothing, I got a call the other day from someone I used to know, CROWING about an article that had been written about them and how wonderful it was and how I should read it.  They admitted that there were a few "falsehoods" in the article.  I read it   A FEW??????  about half of it was BOLD faced lies and the rest were innuendo.  I don't know if I am angrier about the writer, who this person said "embellished" their exploits, or the person themselves, who seems inordinately pleased that the article makes them out to be something they are not,   I'd like to straighten out that they were NOT shot stopping a robbery, it was a gun cleaning accident.  I was there at the time. The fact that this person let this be published, as well as the fact that the article really hurt someone I know ( not me)  really grits my teeth.  Ah the "fake news"thing of today.  Can you even trust the media.  THIS is "Yellow Journalism" at it's finest.

Looking forward to a few days off, to rest and read.  I am reading "One Summer , America 1927"  I was struck by the talk about Warren G. Harding, a man totally unfit to have been President.  How he appointed people he KNEW rather than people who were qualified for cabinet positions, which caused the Teapot Dome scandal.  It reminded me of someone else.  Harding died in 1923, and the rumor was that his wife poisoned him, although the official cause of death was a heart attack.  hmmmm.  I'm enjoying the book and the look backward.  My dad would have been seven that year,  He remembered the excitement about Lindbergh and said the kids would shout at every plane "LOOK there's Lucky Lindy"  AH, the innocence of the time...

I am seeing the ENT specialist on the 20th.  Hopefully, he will have an answer to my ongoing problems and will be able to FIX this,  I might need some type of surgery, but I am sick of this.  It's making me tired,  and probably stressing me out!

31 years

I find it had to believe that I have been doing this job for thirty one years.  My working at the Library is all my daughter has ever known.  Thirty-one years ago today a 28 year old me took the elevator to the thirty-fifth floor of Arco Towers to begin a new job and a new adventure.  I had been working at Parking Enforcement, a job I still consider "A Season in Hell" for reasons which I will not enumerate, but to say that working with SOME of those people was a lesson in how NOT to treat co-workers.

I was only going to do this for five years.  I thought I might get some budget experience then move on, maybe work for the CAO or the City Attorney.  My job in Rent Stabilization made me appreciate how the rules and laws were created for the City and I thought either agency might be interesting work.

Then I got pregnant. Kate was a hoped-for  "planned" child, but being a mother changed what I wanted.  I really wanted to stay home with my baby, but the economy and other things prevented that. I guess I should be grateful, because having a job made ending my marriage possible when the time came.  When I was off, there was an earthquake that damaged some of  the Northeast and Hollywood branches to a degree that they were uninhabitable. I came back to relocate first my own office and then to work on getting the damaged branches into "permanent temporary" housing.  We began a campaign for bonds for building projects, which passed and I spent the next several years working on building projects.  Just as that was winding down, the Northridge quake happened and we were off again! 24 building projects later, I was a moving specialist.  I had at that point moved more libraries than anyone in the country ( if you reason that the second building project was the largest ever undertaken and I already had a number of moves under my belt by the time that happened.)  I was well suited to that job and it was a lot of fun.  I kind of miss it, but given the current state of my body, I'm glad we aren't doing anything like THAT right now.

I think about retirement more and more these days. The job is not as much fun as it used to be and some days it is positively draining.  I am hopeful they will bring in some new wide-eyed rookie I can train.  My predecessor left a sheet of notebook paper with three phone numbers and the words "Good Luck"

I should be writing.

Really.

Instead I find myself playing mind numbing video games or surfing the same comments over and over. 

I should be writing.

I'm trying to think positively about the world.  The #me too brought up far too many memories of things I would rather not think of in the middle of the night when I can't sleep.  Not just the idiots in trucks blowing sickly kisses and yelling "hey baby baby" at em.  I really want to explain that you are NOT going to attract a woman that way.  I read a comment on a friend's page that said- in all seriousness- that men know right from wrong but do this anyway. I suppose it makes them feel "powerful" to demean and in some cases terrify other people. Sexual assaults are not about sex, no matter what you have been told, they are about power over the powerless; taking what you want because you can.

It's like stealing but what you have taken can never be replaced or returned.

I sit here, reading the news seeing all the reports of the terrible behavior of DJT and his tweets that he has "proof" he said otherwise.  Stop with the thumb action and bring it forward.

We are waiting.


Waiting.


Yeah, right after he releases his tax returns and the proof of the Obama wiretapping.

He's up to something and it can't be good.  He and that child in North Korea are about to get into another dick-measuring contest.  This time, they may put the entire planet at risk, as NEITHER seems to understand that nukes will take out the whole planet, eventually.  If you use nuclear weapons, the territory you attack will NOT be a prize for you to take, but a barren uninhabitable wasteland, use enough weapons and the whole planet goes.  Maybe they need to read  Neville Shute's masterwork "On the Beach"  There were films made of it in 1959 and 2000, so maybe one of those might do, except there may be too many big words for DJT and not enough naked women.

Every morning I wake up and check the news to see if he is still in office. Mike Pence is probably just as bad, maybe worse because he is probably smarter ( there are species of carrot that are smarter than DJT, but that's another story).  I keep hoping that Robert Mueller and Adam Shiff can save us.

A war at home.

I really DO believe the Republican Party is waging a war on women.  They want to "Make America Great Again" which I read as rolling everything back to the 1950's when white men ruled everything, people of color were servants and janitors and women were housewives who did whatever their husband said.  rankly, they watched a little too much "Father Knows best" although I do remember one where the Anderson family helped their Hispanic gardener launch his singing career.  It was like that on the surface, but underneath it was an ugly teeming mess.

They are trying, desperately, to control women's bodies, which they see as belonging to them, created for THEIR pleasure and to procreate. It's a subtle form of slavery, a way to keep all women down.  I remember as a child, being told that women should remain virgins until marriage, but men should have "experience". That always confused me and I thought that there must be one woman out there having an awful lot of sex.  It's peculiar , the thought that women who have sex are 'Sluts" but men who do it are  "Studs".  Recently I "unfriended" the widower of a distant cousin, who crowed about how only "sluts" needed birth control and how happy he was at the ruling that employers can withhold it as part of the medical coverage if it is against the EMPLOYERS religious beliefs.  I carefully did not point out to him that his daughter had a baby without being married, which used to be an even BIGGER sin than sex before marriage.  But I guess since she obviously wasn't using birth control, by that reasoning it's ok. Some women are given birth control to help manage their "cycle" as many women are, but somehow she would have been branded a "Slut", even if they are not having sex, simply because they need this drug.  According to some "religious" people, women are cursed with menstruation as "payment" for Eve's "sin" I see this as another way men try to control women.

Until 1974  I believe, married women could not get credit in their own name.  We could not vote until 1920. Despite the Lily Ledbetter Act. I am fairly certain that women are still being paid less than men.  I was told that was "because men have families to support"  Somebody need to check te facts on families that have NO father and women are the only adults.  Maybe if these women had access to birth control, they would not need to be supporting families without fathers.  In Colorado, for instance, they experienced an almost 40 % drop in unintended pregnancies when they offered the Long acting birth control to young women.  But hey, they're "sluts" for wanting that, right, Republicans?

I see Viagra is still covered...

Lack of sleep and other assorted ramblings

It's NOT sleep apnea.

I have been tested for sleep apnea so many times it's not funny.  I'm getting tired of the testing, but I'm tired of being tired.  Tired or relying on coffee and catnaps to get through the day.  I GO to sleep, I'm just not sleeping deeply.  It's probably the pain that is keeping me from deep sleep so I am on the surface of sleep but not down in the healing sleep my body so greatly needs.

I take as MUCH of the medication as I feel I should.  It's tricky.  My surgeon wants me OFF the medicine before he will do the surgery.  The pain is ridiculous. Yesterday Chris and I went to Ikea to get bookcases for the spare room. These don't have to be the lovely lawyers style cases I have downstairs. I recently bought one at a yard sale so I have THREE downstairs ( I know.. I know...)  I need to get my spare room in order before the holiday season gets here.  It's a disaster

Off Topic, does anyone know an upholsterer who can tell me, Honestly, if my grandmother's chair is worth repairing?   It is in a horrible state of disrepair and my husband says I have to let it go, but some of my best memories of her are tied to that piece of furniture.  I am torn,

Anyway the new Ikea in Burbank is even more convoluted in layout than the last one was.  You have to snake around the entire floor to get to things you need. There is ONE PATH. We found the bookcases that were the right size and the right color fairly quickly once we actually found the Room o' Bookcases. I was also looking for chairs, but Chris could go no further and sat down on one of the display chairs- they don't get mad when you do that so it was ok.  I found some nice chairs to replace our dining room chairs which are falling into disrepair and cannot be fixed.  I need nicer ones for the holidays.  I am thinking about the holidays with a mixture of joy and sadness as most people of my age certainly must. I miss my family and will need to do something about it all very soon.  Visits in the works if I can swing the time.

Chris and I managed to wrangle the boxes with the bookcases in them onto the  flat cart.  Remember this is IKEA so most of the stuff is DIY. I read a sign that said they will assemble it and deliver it, but it was more than the cost of all three bookcases put together so... no.  When we got to the elevator I hit my own wall and cried out in pain.  A very nice couple asked if they could help. I was embarrassed, but took their offer.  There was NO WAY Chris and I could have done this without them.  They cheerfully took over, rolling the cart to our car and loading them boxes inside.   I must have said "thank you" a hundred times.   I was practically crying, I was so grateful.  Whoever they are, I hope something amazing and wonderful happens for them. They were so very kind.

When we got home, our friend and neighbor Gary got them out of the car and into the house.  They will sit in the living room until I can get the upstairs room and the boxes out of the way.  Most of the boxes are books, I think, so if we wan get the bookcases assembled and up the stairs and into the area where they need to be it will be wonderful

Friday morning poem

I had a poem
in my head last night
When I went to bed
and like all other poems
I knew I should have
gotten up
and written it down

it was gone by the morning

Something about
how women talk
over cups of coffee
glasses of wine
or shots of whiskey
about their lives and problems
they do not expect solutions
mostly
just a smile
a nod and an "I've been there"
Maybe the other woman will say
"and what are you going to do about it?"
but will not insist on solving it
unless asked.

How women think differently from men
how hearing the problem
voiced out loud in her own voice
Is the beginning of finding the solution
for herself

Remembering Mom

Thirteen years ago today, my mother, Hazel Emma Myers, lost her fight against Alzheimer's.  I miss her every single day. but at least I have ( sort of) stopped wanting to call her when something really good happens, or when something happens where I could really use her advice.  I "talk" to her all the time, hoping somehow she can hear me. My faith that I will see her again does help.

She would have loved the heck out of my husband and I think the two of them would have got on like a house on fire, as the saying goes.  I have no idea WHY they say that but there it is.  She would have been as thick as thieves with my mother-in-law, Anna.  I can hear the two of them plotting something fun.  It's both a comfort and a sorrow to imagine the scenarios.

I remember her teaching me to spell the word Wednesday  "WED NEZZZ Day"  I hear it when I spell it, like just now.

I remember being about six and the two of us running from the garage, through the gate and into the house to catch the last bit of my favorite song "The Cat Came back"  It was a silly novelty song and I will have to see if I can find it on Youtube today.

I remember her being in charge of membership of the PTA at Sharp Avenue and all  of us writing     50 ¢ in the little space on the envelope.  She taught me about volunteering and community involvement.  She joined the teachers on the picket line in front of my school in my sixth grade year.  I was proud of her.  I wonder if I ever told her that..

I remember the morning after I announced my engagement to my first husband, getting up for school (I was in college) to find she had two complete plans for our wedding.  She thrust them at me and I said "Mom, can I get a cup of coffee first?"  I seem to have inherited her planning gene.

I remember her holding her six day old granddaughter on the couch in my living room, she and Kate bonding, a love that lasts in my daughter still.

I remember us laughing in her kitchen  when I made her her first mimosa. I have the photo on my desk of us kidding around with the empty champagne bottle.

I remember her telling us, at Christmas, that she had Alzheimer's and would not remember any of us next year, but that she wanted us to know that she loved us

I remember taking her on a picnic and giving my now childlike mother her sandwich, which she ate.  quickly. I was still giving out the rest of the sandwiches when she demanded "where's MINE"  We had to tell her she had eaten it. I asked her if she were still hungry, figuring she could have mine. but she looked down and said no.

I remember holding her hand the day before she died and telling her she could go.  She wasn't eating or drinking and we could feel the presence of those she loved who had crossed over who were urging her to join them.  She looked pointedly at my father, her husband of 54 years and the love of her life. I promised her we would take care of him.  She had not said a word in weeks, but later she looked at me and said "How did I get like this?"  It startled me, but I said "You just got sick, Mom. That's all"  "oh.  she said  "what a mess"  and shook her head sadly.  She died the next day, surrounded by us all.

I don't need to tell you that Alzheimer's is a terrible disease.  It stole my brilliant mother from us piece by piece.  I see the Alzheimer's Association is talking about finding the first survivor.  I hope they do and soon.  Thirteen years later I still feel the pain it caused.

Attitude of Gratitude 2017

I had a dream last night that really brought home my need to work on my "attitude of gratitude" I need to let go of anger at certain unchangeable situations that I am letting impact me. I will work on remembering that although someone seems to always get what they want, they confessed that they are STILL unhappy. It made me laugh and have a bit of schadenfreude when they told me that. I need to look at what I HAVE and realize that being vengeful or jealous is blocking my path to what I want. I read something that said believing "prosperity is just around the corner" will always KEEP it around the corner. So. Hmmm. I need to practice thinking " I have abundance. I have what I need to get what and where I want to be"

I AM grateful for:

My husband. I am lucky to have found someone who loves me for ME and does not want to change the fundamental core of who I am. I had someone in my life who thought I would suddenly morph into a willowy blond who was obedient as a golden retriever. MY husband's physical presence is more calming to me than ativan.

My children. Sure both of them drive me to distraction and we often misunderstand what is being said but I love them just the same. Both of them are working hard to get things right, for all of us.

Bobby. If I have to explain THAT, you haven't been paying attention.

My doctors. I am still having trouble, but yesterday's physical therapy gave me hope. The new meds seem to be helping a bit. I go back to the allergist on Monday and I am really going to talk to him to see what is causing ONE of the problems that is making me cough so much. I think it's an allergy.

My "peeps" at work. I am most fortunate to have found a job that suits me. My former boss said once that I really tailored the job to my personality. I guess I did. I really love and care about my folks out there who are on the front-lines of public service. It's not all sunshine and roses and if I can help them have a better day in some small way, then I am content. I always wanted a job that "made a difference" This one does and I an truly blessed to be able to do it. Sure sometimes it drives me CRAZY, and some conditions are not ideal, but I am hanging on.



So as I go about my day today, I will try to remember NOT to be angry about things that are and are out of my hands. The practice of "Let go and Let God" or the universe, which are sort of interchangeable in my mind will be my mantra, Accept things I cannot change but change things I cannot accept, where possible. I will gather my circle of positive things around me to lift me up.

My voice

As a by-product of the pneumonia, and a few other things, I have pretty much lost my voice.  I am frustrated with the medical efforts to get me to stop coughing and my larynx to stop spasming. I have not had a "I can't breathe" episode in a while, so maybe, just maybe,I am healing.  It's slow and frustrating.  The thing is, this week, a lot of people have taken the trouble to point out that I  "sound like shit"  REALLY?  I never noticed.  I miss my voice.  I miss the ability to sing.  If you know me, you know I am always singing.  It's my stress reliever.  Now I can't do that at all.  Yesterday , at work, after three people made "helpful" comments, pointing out how bad I sounded, I fled to the bathroom to cry.   I have great doctors and therapists who are working to get me back to normal, but the process is slow. I am frustrated.  Please, if you feel like saying anything at all to me, be encouraging.   Don't be Captain Obvious.  I know I sound bad.  I miss my voice and I am working to get it back.  Say you are praying for me.  Tell me you hope I get better.  Don't tell me, as one helpful soul did, that I sound like shit and what am I doing at work?  I'm trying to be "normal" and being around my work colleagues usually helps.  Except when it doesn't.

Nightmares

I've been sleeping poorly for the last week or so, so much so that I am afraid of falling asleep during mid-afternoon meetings.   Lately I have been having nightmares.   Last night I was trapped in a Nordstroms.  Every time I would try to get to the elevator, these women, dripping in furs and jewels, would shove me out of the way. I was late for work, and trying to call my boss to confirm my schedule.  In the dream I was working in a branch library with the boss from Hell, a job I held for eighteen months that I STILL refer to as "time off from Purgatory"  I could not find my car in the parking lot.  Ok, I know as nightmares go, it does not measure up to the Sam Peckinpah worthy nightmares that were induced by Ambien.  As I lay in bed, wondering if I should TRY to go back to sleep or if I would fall BACK into the same nightmare, I tried to determine the root cause.   It COULD be the new meds I just started, which both my pulmonolgist and my allergist SWEAR will quell the horrible cough. If could be that work itself is overwhelming.  I am working hard as I was off for a long time and although my colleague did a LOT of the heavy lifting, there is a lot of catch-up for me right now.  It could be the news.  I would like to stop seeing the news. Every day , Lord Cheeto does something that shows me just how unfit he is to run this country  The thing that REALLY scares me is the article I read that says that his base still thinks he's doing a good job.  He DID say he could shoot someone in Time Square and not lose voters, He knows his audience, doesn't he.  I wonder what his fans will say when he encourages Nazi and white supremacist behavior. I have a high school chum who is Hispanic and a HUGE Trumpster.  I wonder if he will still support Trump when they start profiling HIM

As for me, I watch and I listen. I hope I have the courage to join my fellow humans who live in this country and say ENOUGH and rise up for change.  I see Steve Bannon is gleefully anticipating the Revolution.  It's probably NOT going to be what he thinks it is.

Poem- Reading Billy Collins

Seeking to expand my horizons
I was led to Billy Collins
His seemingly effortless ability
to drop the perfect juxtaposition
into otherwise innocuous sentences
has me wanting to crawl into a corner
scrawl" ignorant hack" across my forehead
and devote myself to art that is more
in keeping with my talents
like finger painting
or using the box
of 64 crayola crayons ( how I love thee, Burnt Sienna)
on books
made of cheap paper
with outlines of clowns
or dinosaurs
then I find later poems
in the same anthology
where he tries
and fails
at  being William Carlos Williams
I am both heartened
and disheartened
in the same breath.

Summer Reading

Summer.  Reading.  Two of my favorite words.  My birthday is June 23 and for me Summer always began on my birthday.  It was like the start of something; FUN!   Long lazy days of swimming and bike riding and a baseball game we called "three flies up"  where the batter would toss up the ball for a pop fly and whoever caught three would then become the batter.  The beauty of the game is you could play it with as few as two people, although three or four made for a better game.  As a child I ALWAYS participated in the Library's Summer Reading program. I was a competitive little kid; one summer I read 64 books, I think. My mom would ask me to tell her about each book before she wrote it down on the sheet they gave you to keep track so you could get your "prize"  I believe the "Prize" was a certificate that said you completed the Summer Reading Program.  I don't remember getting any cool stuff.  Maybe there was a coupon for a free ice cream?  I don't remember.  I stopped when I was a teen because I really don't remember the teens being involved in any kind of organized Summer Reading Program,  "YA Lit" as it is sometimes called, was in it's infancy when I was a teen.  Sure, I read and LOVED "The Outsiders" ( better than the movie) . I read "The Cat Ate  My Gym-suit" and the novels of Paul Zindel, "My Darling, My Hamburger" and "The Pigman".  Most of the books dealt with a teen angst that was at once familiar and foreign to me.    Summer in tenth grad and then again in eleventh I spent rereading the "Lord of the Ring" trilogy ( a fine set of films but again,the books are better), but there was no official group to join.  If there were one, they never recruited me.  NOW the Library goes full-bore to keep teens engaged in the Library and lifelong reading.  The past few years they have begun to include everyone in the Summer Reading program.  I signed up this year, but  as I did so online, I did not get the bag they give you and the program is apparently SO successful they are out of them!  I think I can get over the disappointment.

I will talk more about the two books I have read for it so far Julia Glass' " A House Among the Trees" and Jill Shalvis "Lost and Found Sisters" which is SUCH a "Beach Read" the cover features a beach umbrella and a beach bag which as far as I can tell - and I'm halfway through the book- has NOTHING to do with the story.  I have slowed down considerably since my 64 book achievement all those Summers ago.  But  I have a question for all of you reading this right now.  I am listening to "The Handmaid's tale". It is totally giving me the creeps, and a LOT to think about, but does LISTENING to a book count as reading it?  I'm not so sure. If I am not actually doing the "work" of reading, does it count?

Birthday weekend, Part 2

At the America show, I found myself thinking how much I missed going to see live music and live theater and thinking that I should make more of an effort to see both.  When we ran into the very kind Hank Linderman in front of the venue, he gave us each a slip of paper with the name "The Barefoot Movement " and a time and place- McCabes- on it. I had never actually BEEN to McCabes, although I had heard of it.  My great-great grandmother's maiden name was McCabe, which is an incidental thing, but that gives me a family connection right ?

 We looked them up on YouTube.  What did we do before YouTube, oh yeah  RADIO actually played new music and new acts.  We liked what we saw and heard and tried to get tickets.  The website said they had ONE ticket left.  I was disappointed and went upstairs to take a shower.  Sometimes, I get my best ideas in the shower and I came down and asked Chris to call the venue, as I found it odd that they only had ONE ticket.  Sure enough they had more and we gleefully bough a pair.  Turns out that the website had crashed AND they always have more at the box office ( good to know! )

We go to the Westside early and found parking in front of the venue.  We walked down the street to a local Mexican place, Lares.  The service was friendly, but the food was only serviceable.  I got a couple of cheese enchiladas and a margarita. They forgot the margarita mix, it was triple sec and tequila and undrinkable.  I will probably elaborate on"Stuff you can Stomach"  my food review page.

We really enjoyed the show except for the two  annoying women behind us who kept up a running discourse on what was going on.  You would think they were  baseball announcers, calling the game.    At one point, Chris turned and SHUSHED them, LOUDLY.  It worked for about two songs, but ah, the temporary silence was bliss.

The band, The Barefoot Movement, plays... barefoot.  They do rock hits and original music as well as classic Americana music, all in the style of bluegrass.  They did some interesting mashups; who KNEW "I get Around" by the Beach Boys could seamlessly blend into "Crazy Train" and back again?  Or that Jimi could be played bluegrass style?  It sounded GREAT and I did not want the night to end.  I am sorry they are not playing here for a while, but I hope to catch them when they do. I bought the EP and will be looking to buy the rest of their catalog soon. Yeah, they were THAT good.  They made me want to brave the Topanga Bluegrass Festival next year.

I am enjoying the live music and getting back out.  Strange how a serious illness makes you want to embrace things.  Chris made my birthday weekend amazing, even if we had serious building drama the next day.

Interlude

I will post birthday weekend part two and three in the coming days, but  I have been thinking about this for a while.

At the America show, I thought to myself that I really missed seeing live music and live performances and should see more of them.  As it happens, I was able to go out the next night to see The Barefoot Movement and last night went out to the Bowl to see the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra and Pentatonix.   Both events were a lot of fun and I will post more details in the next few days but BOTH events had me wondering about the following question;  WHY do people feel the need to TALK  and SING during quiet musical performances?   The people behind me at both shows acted like they were in their living room, keeping up a running commentary, observations so inane, I felt like slapping them.  HELLO Captain Obvious. Then the singing.  I'm sorry, but I did not pay to hear YOU sing and I really would like to be able to enjoy the professional performers  I DID pay to hear.  I mouth the words to songs I feel the need to "Sing" along with.  Last night, the orchestra played a song that had special meaning to me and the drunken millennials behind me chatted through the whole thing.  Gee, I'm glad YOU were having a good time, but you ruined it for me.  If you want to talk and sing drunkenly along, off key and with the wrong words, GO TO A BAR.  If you want to talk, GO TO A BAR. When I was little I was taught to be QUIET at the symphony.  Now it's like a sporting event.  Even a good dose of the "Hairy eyeball" did not shut these people up.  I hope I ruined their video, I kept shifting and stretching and ant one point stood up.  Ok, maybe that was uncalled for but I was annoyed.  At the Barefoot Movement show, Chris SHUSHED the chattering women behind us.  It only lasted  a few songs, but the silence was blissful.

Weigh in here. How do You feel about chattering audience members and people who seem to need to perform in their seat?  How do you react to it?   It won't stop me from going to live shows, but there must be a way to handle this, or am I overreacting?

Birthday weekend Part 1

Last night, Chris and I went to The Rose in Pasadena  to see my favorite band, America.  The venue is local ( about 20 minutes from our house) AND it was my birthday, so we splurged on the tickets and dinner.

Diner is mandatory if you get a table.  They have some seating that is just chairs and standing room,  which is around $50.  The tables were not as closely spaced together as I had feared and we were seated next to some very nice fans who had never seen the band live before ( how is THAT possible???)  We ordered dinner.  Since it was my birthday and I was NOT driving, I treated myself to a whiskey. They did not have Bushmill's , but as I like to say Jameson's will do in a pinch.  It was Jameson's.

The Rose is run by the same people who run the Canyon Club and The Coach House. With a good seat near the stage you get a table where you MUST spend $25 per person on a dinner plate.  THIS is on TOP of the really inflated ticket price.  I hate places like this, especially since the food is often terrible.  At the Coach House, for instance I got a plate of "Steamed vegetables'  They had to STEAM them to get the ice chips off.  Really they popped the bag of frozen veggies in the microwave then they topped it with margarine. oooh,tasty.  Some reviews said the food at the Rose was pretty good but  I was not excepting much and ordered the vegetable lasagna, figuring they would need to go a long way to f- that up.  I was wrong.  The sauce tasted burned and everything else was suffering from a long stint in the microwave.  I deconstructed it and ate some of it but-- bleh.  Chris got prime rib which was also overnuked.   They also add a 20 % "Service charge" that is NOT the tip to your waitress, but tips "the people in the back of the house."  I really resented that.  They should just charge more for their almost inedible food and bury the cost there.  Our bill was almost the cost of my first car.

The opener was a local girl, Bleu Stroud .  She was sweet with a nice voice.  She did that vocal thing that seems to be super popular, where they stutter over the first letter of the word ; think Taylor Swift.  She has a lot of potential, but she needs to work on her patter a bit.  It was mostly "This song is called________" and a moment to introduce Ryan, who may or may not have been her brother.  Dunno.  She may have been nervous.  We guestimate over 500 in the house.

Before the show I went over to the Merch table to see what they had to offer.  I wanted a new canvas bag and while I was there  I ran into Ryland. They were selling his CD "This Magnificent" and I purchased it.  He graciously signed it for me AND I got a birthday hug- Glynnis  who was at the table with Brynna told him it was my birthday and he offered me a birthday hug.   I will be reviewing that later but they were playing it at the close of the show when they were trying to get the crowd out and I liked what I heard. I will post a separate review later this week when I get a chance to listen to it.  I have an hour each way commute so that affords me the time for a serious listen.

The lights went down and the house speakers began to play "Miniature"   Ok  I got goosebumps.  I was SO excited to see the band.  They started with Tin Man and as usual, Dewey's vocals were buried until about halfway through the song.  The sound was pretty good after that. 

The set was the usual one with TWO delightful additions ( for ME anyway) Monster and Greenhouse.  Greenhouse makes me think of the late Miguel Ferrer who did a wicked version of it the night I saw Bill Mumy's band, the Jenerators.   Fellow America  Fan Kathy and  I shrieked and high-fived. It was awesome.  They covered Eleanor Rigby and California Dreamin.   The bass solo on "Here" ALWAYS makes me appreciate what a wonderful musician Rich Campbell is.  I was paying close attention to the "new kids"  I have a confession here.  I like them, but I have been watching those two "youngsters" since they played in a band with Gerry's son Matt, so I have a bit of a mother hen feeling toward them.  When I first saw Ryland, I think I said he looked like the pizza delivery guy but MAN could he play drums.  My opinion has not changed and he has really grown into the role.  Andy is fun to watch. I still kind of miss Woodsy's impish grin, but Andy was all over the stage and having a good time.   Nice banjo work on "Don't cross the River"

It was too soon before the audience was counting out the final "one two one two three four" start to Sister Golden Hair.  The band was joined for the encore by Hank Linderman , Ryan from the opening act and Noah Wells, who is the lead singer and an amazing fiddle player for the band "The Barefoot Movement"  We ran into Hank outside the venue and I went up to him to speak with him ( for the life of me I can't explain THAT, except maybe the second glass of whiskey had kicked in?)  He invited us to go to McCabe's in Santa Monica to see the Barefoot Movement.  We did, but that's another day and another post!

NO CANCER, so back to work

I realize I haven't written anything and I should have.

I had a lumpectomy last Monday.  In MARCH at my annual mammo, they found "something"  the configuration was not cancerous but suspicious so they had to come out.  Then I got pneumonia and was down for much longer than I thought I should have been.  Apparently I misunderstood my doctor and returned before I should have.  He placed me off work for three weeks- one week before the surgery and two weeks after- presumably for post surgical recovery- but I am feeling better, somewhat antsy here at home, so I am going BACK to work today.

The surgery was weird.  The actual incision doesn't hurt.  The worst part was getting the guide-wire inserted, which they do under a local.  Again they did not give me ENOUGH of the local and I gritted my teeth.  It HURT!  It STILL hurts in that spot.  They gave me a "cocktail" before I went into the OR and I remember them putting the legwarmers on me then.. nothing.  I don't remember them putting me under. I was actually dreaming when I came out of the anesthesia, or at least it felt like dreaming . Like I said, weird.

Chris and Ruth kept me company, then Ruth kept Chris company while they waited.  I think the surgery was about an hour.  I came home the same day and SLEPT.

ON Thursday I got the good news from my surgeon, who told me the results had JUST come in and she wanted me to know right away.  NO CANCER, probably the most beautiful combination of words in the English language.  To say I am relieved is an understatement.  I can breathe again.  I think I have been holding my breath since March.

I will begin a round of going to have a follow up mammo every six months for the next year and 1/2, If I recall correctly.  Small price to pay to make sure there was nothing lurking with the "Somethings"  I have what looks to be a small scar, a badge of honor in the fight against cancer.  Thankfully, there was no cancer there, but who know what would have happened if I had NOT had the mammo.

Get the boobies checked.  It's important.

I go back to work today.  It's been a while. I hope my brain is up to the task!

scars

"Scars are souvenirs you never lose"  As I prepare myself for surgery today to remove the three "Somethings that will be nothing" I am thinking about all the scars I have on my body. The surgeon and I joked about making the one she is going to put on my right breast match the one on my left breast.  I doubt she can but it was and is a good joke.

I have a lot of scars, mostly from surgeries.  There are a few from  misadventures, like the one on my left hand where I slammed my hand in the car door when I was about twelve. I have a scar from the c-section and a lot of little scars from having my gallbladder taken out.  The scar on my left breast, though was one I hid.

In 2006, I went for my first mammogram and the found "something"  I went through the whole series,  more mammos, the biopsy and the surgery.  I had a large somewhat puckering scar at the bottom of my breast.  I was embarrassed by it and hid it when I had cause to be undressed in front of other people.  At some point, I realized that this scar was NOT a scar but a badge.  The "somethings" did not get a chance to be cancer, because of that scar.  The same will go for this scar.  I once met a woman at a pool party who had a wicked deep scar on here left shoulder.  She told people that she had been attacked by a shark. Our eyes must have gotten wide, she laughed and said "cancer"  Scars like that mean we have fought the battle and won.

I am sure that my "somethings" are still nothing and I will come home today and rest.  As I recall, it wasn't a big deal, not any pain really. I am a bit nervous, but not afraid.  I have a wonderful surgeon and Chris will be there for as long as he can.

 I've got this.

Karma, Schadenfreude, revenge and payback

Recently I have gotten into more than one discussion that involved the need to avenge  or "get even" with someone.   It has me thinking about the nature of Karma and vengeance and the difference between the two.

Karma is a concept of Eastern philosophy that states what you did in you past life visits you in this life.  I may be oversimplifying it, but Westerners have adopted karma as "You were mean to me and the universe will get you for it"  It doesn't quite work that way.  People seem to think they can call karma out of the sky like an Old Testament lighting bolt. Again.  No.  You earn your karma in your last life and what is there is here.  You are thinking of revenge.

Now, revenge is a concept as old as time.  I think of TWO Klingon (ha) proverbs.  "When setting out on revenge, first dig two graves" and the most famous "Revenge is a dish best served cold"  Revenge has a way of rebounding on people that the person who is hell-bent on revenge often cannot see if they are blinded by their red heat of rage.  Often, the fallout hurts more people than the intended victim.  Sometimes the intended victim skates by altogether and the person SEEKING the vengeance gets hit.  Mostly it's people around both who are injured by the vengeance and sometimes it takes years to undo the damage.

My husband is always reminding me that the Universe had balance and as surely as the wave must return to the ocean, things go back into balance without our help. I do believe that the Universe has a way of working things out the way they are supposed to be if we just LET it.  This is where the concept of Schadenfreude comes in.  It means Joy from someone else's misery.  It's why we laugh when the bully gets it in the end of the film.  Satisfying.  To be able to stand by and watch the "bad guy" get their just desserts without DOING anything.  Yes. Do I feel somewhat guilty in that pleasure?  Why yes I do, but it IS human nature and I am going with it.

In a conversation with a friend from elementary school about a teacher who terrorized him and whom he would like to punch in the face ( apparently this particular teacher had a LOT of people who hated him because he was a bully, I looked him up on a website and saw at least ONE more person who after almost 50 years STILL had the desire for revenge)  I told my friend something that I really believe; Living well is the BEST revenge. The way to get "Even" is to pull ahead.  People who want to drag you down cannot stand it when you are just out there, doing your thing DESPITE them.  Eliminate people from your life who want to drag you down and LIVE

Robert Kennedy

June 6, 1968.  I got up in the morning to my mother listening to the radio, as we did every morning.  We listened to KMPC Los Angeles.  I remember Gary Owens was one of the jockey's but they had sketch comedy and popular music in the morning. My mother and I would often giggle over the bad puns. My mother was staring at the little beige radio on the counter.  She was crying. She said that when she turned on the radio that she misunderstood when the announcer said that RFK was "Shot"  she thought he was just tired.  Now she understood that he had BEEN shot and was dead.  My parents were Kennedy Democrats. Losing Bobby, after losing JFK was too much for my mother.  We talked about it, I  am sure.  I was weeks away from turning ten and was something of a political child.  I am sure I wondered who would lead us , now that Bobby was gone.

I read recently that RFK's assassination resulted in giving the US Nixon.  The Democrats were forced to go with Hubert Humphrey, not exactly a dynamic man or a ball of fire and after Bobby, well the party could not get it together enough to beat the Republicans.   Had Bobby lived and been elected, I like to think the world would have been a better place.  There is a lot of talk about his plans for Vietnam, but I am more interested in his initial platform that would have addressed civil rights, hunger, poverty and education in this country.  The thing that makes me sick when I think about it it the prevailing idea that those people who live in poverty or hunger in this country somehow deserve it.  The Republican party has never ( and please don't cite Lincoln,his party was "Republican" in name only their policies do not reflect current values).

I had lunch once at the Ambassador hotel, sometime in the late 80's before they razed most of it and turned it into a High School.  The place was deserted and shabby.  Frankly the ghosts int he room were enough to make me uneasy.  I heard an interview with the busboy where he said Bobby asked him "Is everyone else alright?  I wondered if that were a fiction, designed to rise his star one final time.  A part of me hopes it is true.

Sweetness

I have been doing a lot of kvetching in my blog lately.  I blame the prednisone.  It makes me feel irritable and agitated.   I HATE this but am almost done with it. so YA me.  I am off trying to get rest. I am reading a really good book "A House among the Trees" by Julia Glass.  I like her style and will look into her other books when I am done with this one. Part of my plan is to sit in the morning sun, reading and baking some of the "crud" out of me.   It's something my Dad used to say to do and I certainly felt better after sitting and walking in the sunshine at John and Heather's wedding on Saturday.  They got married at the Relay for Life.  I managed to raise the $100 I wanted to and I DID walk, although I took breaks in between laps.  The "laps" were about 1/10th of a mile, so don't be TOO impressed, but I do have severe osteoarthritis and have been fighting off this illness. 

 I was proud of me and I did what I set out to do.  It was important to me The first lap, honored my father, who died of bone cancer. I got emotional on the first turn. The second honored my mother, a breast cancer survivor. The third was for my Aunt Ruthie and my grandmother, who both died from uterine cancer, the fourth honored friends and family still fighting cancer. The last lap? For me and the determination that the lumpectomy I am facing will be NOTHING! It was harder than I thought. I took a celebratory lap with other wedding guests, behind the bride and groom, to join in their joy.  Chris walked FOUR laps with me. He was only going to do one or two.  He paid for it yesterday as he is not doing so hot either.  

As I watched my friends join in marriage, I reflected on how long I have known the bride, we are both a part of the Heart and Soul community.  When I met her she was still grieving and trying to find her way after the loss of her husband.  She has returned  ( I wanted to say grown, but I think she was this way before grief knocked her flat) to be this joyful artist with a fierce determination in all things.  John makes her laugh. I think we need that in our lives.  Balance and joy.  Marry someone you can talk to, who makes you laugh , who makes you feel  better.  I know I did.  I wish them BOTH a long life with lots of giggles and warm sweet abiding love.

Update

At the beginning of the year, I looked over my health issues.  Sure,I have asthma and pulmonary hypertension, but those were well controlled and I was losing weight and exercising and looking forward to a possible knee replacement mid year.

Then, in March, I went in for my annual mammo, and they found three "Somethings" that needed to come out of my right breast .Not cancer yet, but suspicious  and they need to come out. Ok  I've done this before.  In 2006, I had three ( why is is always three?) somethings removed from my left breast.  I joked with the surgeon about getting the scars to line up.  I was ok with it.

Then all hell broke loose.

If you follow my rather random blog, you know that I got really sick at the beginning of April.  They treated it as an asthma flare, but it was really pneumonia.  I was off work for almost six weeks.   I went back to work on May 15, but I am still sick.

I saw my pulmonologist about a week before original scheduled date of my surgery, May 19 He told me I was "not strong enough to survive the surgery" and spoke with the surgeon to postpone it.  Fine.

Yesterday I went back to see him for clearance.  He was appalled that I was working and essentially told me I need to stay home and REST or I cannot have the surgery.  I NEED the surgery, so once again I am off work.  I have pretty much burned through all my sick-time, but Chris and I have a plan.  Things are going to change up for a bit here at Casa Myers.  I AM going to rest as much as possible - don't tell my doctor I am still planning on going to John and Heather's wedding tomorrow, but this will be good for my heart, which is in sore need of something to lift me up.  I am having a small gathering at the house on Sunday to celebrate Chris' 50th birthday. Nothing elaborate and I plan to rest.

I am, as the saying goes, sick of being sick and tired of being tired.  I am also, and I am loathe to admit it, a bit afraid that I will not get well.  I am heading in to work today to pick up some things in inadvertently left on my desk and to take care of one or two paperwork issues that once they are done will NOT weigh on my brain for the entire time I am off.  I have some books, I may try to pick up one or two before I leave Central today.  I am up for visitors, I am not contagious, just have to lay low and take all the shiny new meds.  I need to find my strength and my courage.  It is easy to be disheartened,but I have family, friends and faith.

Keep me in your prayers. I',m a little low at the moment, but I am going to bounce back and be ME again, I promise!  I really appreciate all the love I have been shown. I know that I am truly, truly blessed.

Driving

There's a song I often find myself singing on my commute home;

"well I left my job about five o'clock
it took fifteen minutes to go three blocks
just in time
to stand in line
with the freeway looking like a parking lot
DAMN this traffic jam!"

I love James Taylor.

YESTERDAY it took me about 15 minute to go two blocks.  WHY you ask.  Stupid people,   They don't know how NOT to drive into the intersection of it is apparent they won't clear it before the light turns red for them AND they don't know how to merge.  MOST of theses people were driving luxury cars and Living room sized SUV s.  One woman pulled all the way to the right and tried to scoot down the turn lane until she swung BACK to the left and forced her way into the line of cars.  When I waited at the intersection to let some poor hapless soul who was trying to make a left onto the street, the jerk in the black Ranger Rover behind me leaned on his horn and went ballistic. It wasn't like we were MOVING or anything. Traffic was stopped.

Trying to MERGE is an interesting experience.  I was actually TAUGHT to do this in High School Driver's ed.  One car, one car.  That rule has apparently changed and people make up lanes and play "chicken" with one another. I tried to merge and this moron in a white van tried to edge me out. I realized I was in FRONT of him and if he hit me in the process HE would be at fault.  So I kept going.  Honestly.  The woman who had been BEHIND me played "what's my lane" made her own lane and zoomed in front of three cars.  If everyone just behaved themselves it would not be a mess, but no it's a free-for-all out there and it's  every car for themselves.  The guy in the white van ZOOMED past me as I tried to merge.  I moved over in a more orderly fashion and passed him, waving my fingers as I did. He looked pissed.

The bonus of this was it took SO LONG for me to get back to the valley, I missed the rush hour traffic in the construction zone.  I had forgotten what a mess the 2/210 connector is right now.  I hope they are done with it soon.

Stuff

I am sitting here with my breathing treatment, Wondering if THIS is now part of my daily regimen for the rest of my life.  I hope not.  I hope this is just until my raging asthma is controlled,  It is worrisome.

I got my surgery date.   June 12.  I am ready. This allows me to plan to do a few things before the surgery, no more waiting and wondering if I am going to be available for this or that.  I am done with this.  I am pleased to be able to go and see the play my friend and former co-worker Henry Ong is showing  called "a dream of the Red Chamber"  a six hour play!  FUN!!!!  I love Henry and his work is intricate and humorous, just like Henry himself. I made my reservations to see it, so I am now in the process of planning the PICNIC I will be taking.   You know me, it's all about food.

I need to get my tail in gear and go to vote BEFORE I go to work  This is a local election for a council seat that was vacated by someone who got a better offer and bailed on his commitment to the community.  Shameful.  The race itself devolved to nastiness.  I will NOT be voting for Monica Rodriguez for the following reasons:

Robocalls from Raul Bocanegra.  He's cut from the same cloth as the guy who bailed and I wouldn't believe him if he told me today is Tuesday

NASTY and I mean evil posts by her supporters about local activists were gone unanswered or apologized for.  When one of your "supporters" calls local women "Hos" and you say NOTHING, that shows me that you are willing to do anything to get elected.

NASTY mailers.  I am sick of the innuendo.


A LOT and I do mean a LOT of money is being thrown at this election.  I cannot think but the people who want to push the high-speed train through this community are somehow behind Monica.  She's for it and that alone loses me.  


I vote every election. I am involved in a small way in my community, not so much since I started having health issues last year and things got a bit dicey. It is even MORE important to vote on local issues than on National ones.  THESE are the things that will MOST impact your life.  Turnout is going to be slim, I fear.   I was going to work the polls, but am glad I stepped away as I am NOT 100% yet and I don't think I would have done anyone any good today.  Still Chris and I are proudly casting our ballots and I HOPE for a victory for Karo.  He was not my choice in the primary, I voted for someone whose pitch I liked but had a proverbial "Snowball's Chance" to win.  There were over 20 candidates so a runoff was pretty much in the cards anyway.  Whoever wins, it's gonna get "interesting" up here, as it often does.  I think of Tujunga as a small town, nestled in a larger one.  We sometimes forget we are part of the City of LA, I think.  

We'll see what happens

I can't avoid talking about #45

I am going to stop asking aloud just how STUPID  Donald Trump can be.  Perhaps we should ALL stop asking that.  He seems to think it's some sort of "Challenge"

Presented for your contemplation:

He hires a law firm to categorically deny he has ANY ties to Russia and to state that his returns will bear this out. Problem One. The law firm has DEEP financial ties to Russia.    Problem Two  No returns were included for viewing when the statement was released.  Call me skeptical, but unless the returns are presented  BY the IRS and VERIFIED BY the IRS  anything he might pull out of the vault is well, suspicious in my book.

He invites a cadre of Russians to meet with him in the Oval Office, including one whom the State Department suspects is a spy.  NO American media is allowed, and Trump and his people seem SHOCKED  SHOCKED I tell you, when the Russian media splashed pictures everywhere.  He tired to deny meeting with the guy who is FEATURED in the photos.  Still shouting "FAKE NEWS" Donald?

He fires the head of the FBI, by proxy; sending his goon uh bodyguard to deliver the message.  A little too Godfatherish?  Where is the protocol? Oh yeah on "The Apprentice" that's how they did this.  Isn't this still my game show?

He fires Comey a day after he asks for additional resources to investigate the Russian interference; THEN claims he was told to do it by Jeff Sessions , who had recused himself and had no real say in the matter if recused means what I think it means.  Apparently Jeff Sessions has a different dictionary than I do.

He goes on the Nightly News with Lester Holt and ADMITS he fired Comey before he got the "recommendations".  People know he did it NOT because of the handling of the Hillary emails, which he has praised as a brave thing to do and credits it with assisting his "great Victory"

Trump had gone on record as saying the Constitution makes us look "weak"  THIS Living document, which he SWORE to uphold when he took the oath of office. I wonder if that fancy prep school Daddy sent him to actually covered history and the Constitution.  If it did, I'm sure teen aged Donny was busy trying to figure out how to get in a girl's knickers and not paying much attention.

I've got one more thing he might not know about; vocabulary.  While the man famously can't string two words together without tripping over them, I am concerned he never learned this word:

trea·son

ˈtrēzən/

noun

1. the crime of betraying one's country, especially by attempting to kill the sovereign or overthrow the government.

For as sure as I am sitting here, that man has been in bed with the Russians in more ways than one.  His party minions, on whom he must have some dirt, are circling the wagons and going so far as to publicly proclaim they will obstruct any effort to investigate.  Really?  These are the same folks who spent HOW MUCH investigating Hillary Clinton and Benghazi, Benghazi Benghazi for nothing.  You would think that they would WANT to CLEAR him with an independent investigation.   

This just looks like they are hiding something.

Me so far

I sit here with the mask from the home nebulizer AKA "My little Friend"  strapped to my nose and mouth.  I am getting used to breathing "normally",while the steam or whatever the heck the solution turns into goes into my lungs.

Getting old is a bitch.

The pneumonia is gone and I see my pulmonologist today for clearance for takeoff.

This means I can go back to work on Monday.

Oh yeah and have the surgery to remove the lumps from my right breast on Friday.

A month or so ago, my only concern was my knees.  I have severe osteoarthritis in BOTH knees and am working to get stronger so I can have them replaced.    THAT has become SO back-burner, I don't even think about it.

Well. I am ready to go back to work, even if I DO get tired.  I can go back to work slowly and not kill myself but I really need to get back into a routine and OUT of the house.  I have left the house for small runs, but mostly I go to the doctor.  I am tired of Kaiser.

I need to stop whining.  The lumpectomy will go fine, they will find nothing and I can get back to being me.  I need to find my energy. I seem to have misplaced it.  You know, when you reach down to get the energy to do something and it's just not there?  Baby steps

April 29. Disasters in Los Angeles

It's April 29.  Los Angeles, The city I love, live in and work for commemorates ( not celebrates)  two horrific events.

April 29, 1986. Central Library Arson fire.

I remember exactly where I was when I heard about it.  Although it may seem I have been there forever, I was working in the Department of Transportation, Parking Enforcement ( or as I call it "a Season in Hell")  One of the Supervisors, Birdie Westmoreland, called out that Central was on fire.  They knew I was "Library" having worked in branches for 6.5 years.  They got tired of me asking for updates and plunked a spare "rover" ( radio) on my desk.  I heard them say "There's smoke coming through the top of the tower".  I turned off the radio, put my head on my desk and wept.  I thought the collection was gone.

The fire brought volunteers from all parts of the City to help.  I could not go, as I had just had the surgery to "fix" why I could not get pregnant and was forbidden to lift anything over 5 pounds.  Six months later, I started working in Branch Library Services and seven months later became pregnant with Kate ( nice how that worked out!)  The Save the Books Campaign begun in the ashes of that fire, when the good folks at ARCO came to offer any and all assistance.  We had prime real estate in ARCO Tower for about a year.  I know my friends who were still working in the building did so under unfathomably filthy conditions, but did so with a love and a sense of humor and purpose that is unmatched.   I always say that the fire made the people in the City realize how precious library service, the Central Library and their local branch means to them.   Out of this tragedy came a newer, bigger and better library system.  We passed TWO bond measures and Measure L which grew, strengthened and improved library service for all who use our system. The fire allowed new technology for water logged books to be tested on an unprecedented scale.  Some good did come from it.

On a side note, I hope the firebug who did it is "enjoying" the fires of Hell.  He was never able to be convicted, but he did it. He's dead now.  Good.



The King Riots April 29, 1992

I remember being in the office with co-workers when the verdicts came down.   Literally, I felt the energy in the room shift, suddenly iced cold.  I ran to my phone to call the Day Care Center where my then four year old daughter was a student.  It was across the street from Parker Center.  The daycare worker I talked to said I was overreacting when I told her they should get the kids in the inside rooms.  I KNEW Parker Center would be some sort of flash point, but she dismissed my worries with a "pfft".  I called my brother-in-law, with whom I was commuting, told him NOT to dawdle and he met me at the Center at 5 on the dot.  I remember running to the car, my brother-in-law with my daughter under his arm, passing the Japanese Heritage museum who had had an event planned that evening.  Workers were hurriedly pulling chairs that had been staged and tossing them into the building.  The wind picked up and it smelled like chaos.  We watched from home as the mayhem began unfolding.  They tired to burn down Parker Center and when that failed, went on to City Hall South where the Daycare Center was housed.  I kept my daughter home with her father and went to work.  They sent us home at about three and we did not go back until the following Monday.

 We lost two libraries that were housed in mini-mall sites.  One neighborhood, the John Muir branch community. saw neighbors forming a bucket brigade to save the building. They saved about half of it.

We were told at the time to refer to the event as a "Civil Unrest "  How sweet and politically correct.  I'm sorry  THAT was a RIOT.  The things I saw and will always remember:

 A Mother proudly patting her son in front of tv cameras saying "He stole this shirt.  He's a man now"

Two neighbors, arguing about burning down the grocery store "Oh I have groceries I took before they burned it down, you can have some "  "YES, but you burned down the STORE. Where do we get groceries when THOSE run out?  Don't you see what you've DONE?"

The four people who risked their own lives to save Reginald Denny and countless others who tried to help stop the destruction, including King himself, looking tearful as he asked "Can't we all just get along?"


I understand anger.  I am not in a position or a place where I can say I understand the underlying rage in communities, because, well, I can't.  Did some good come out of all of this?  Maybe.  Maybe dialogues began, maybe friendships were forged and new organizations dealing with the issues that were brought to the forefront by all of this have BEGUN to make a difference.   We have a long way to go. If we learned anything, we have learned that.

Me. so far

"The rabbits say one cloud is lonely" ( a quote from my favorite book, Watership Down)


I am sick.  I don't think I can ever remember BEING this sick.  Ever.   So here is what is going on:

On April 6, after two days of my asthma raging out of control I went to urgent care.  They sent me home with stuff to get the asthma under control , prednisone .  About a week later, I wound up seeing my primary care who gave me another round of prednisone.     After that was done, I wasn't getting any better, so back to urgent care.  An x-ray revealed pneumonia.  I was given MORE antibiotics.  Here is where it gets "interesting"  I'm allergic to penicillin.  It says so, right in my chart.  Both the doctor and the pharmacist said "oh this should be ok"  Well. it wasn't.  I dutifully went home and took both the meds.  Within ten minutes, my left hand swelled to almost three times it's normal size and the back of my hand turned black from knuckles to wrist.  I stared at it, wondering what the hell I had done.  It looked like I had backhanded someone- hard.  I kind of freaked out and called my sister who reminded me to take benadryl. Of course.  I took a double dose,  It does not affect me like some people, so I knew that I would be ok and called a friend to "babysit" me. She stayed with me until I felt better.  Back to urgent care, where the doctor told me that I could NOT have had a fever since I did not take my temperature ( I think I know when I have a fever)  and gave me advice contrary to what my pulmonologist  advises regarding the use of my rescue inhaler.    Enough.  I emailed him and he got me in right away.  We talked and he sent me to Emergency.  I hate going to Emergency, but I was so sick I was willing to do ANYTHING.  They sent me to the Observation unit and loaded me up with  steroids and antibiotics after a chest x-ray revealed pneumonia in my left lung.  You don't get any sleep in Observation.  They woke me up at midnight to give me a self-care pamphlet.  I was JUST sleeping good, as my father used to say, when they woke me up at 5:30 for a blood draw. I had fallen asleep around four.  Sigh.  The megadose seems to have worked. I am not coughing or wheezing, but will be off work until this (hopefully) last round of prednisone and antibiotics are done and my pulmonologist can see me.  I pretty much burned my sick time.  In the midst of all of this, my mother-in-love had surgery so I sent Chris to take care of HER.  He came home with- you guessed it- pneumonia.

We are both on the mend. I am profoundly grateful for the love and the help I have received during this time.  I am truly blessed by wonderful friends.

Judas and Easter thoughts

I've been thinking a lot about Judas Iscariot, the man who "betrayed" Christ.   I have been thinking about it, because there is such a dichotomy about him.  I went to a church as a child that vilified Judas. He was the most horrible human being . Ever.  But now, as an adult, I wonder about that.  IF we believe that God sent Jesus to die for us so that he might rise again and give us everlasting life, then WHY is what Judas did a bad thing?  Someone told me that "Judas turned away from God"  but I think Judas turned TOWARD God.  He, alone, truly must have believed that this was God's plan, for him and for Jesus and hard as it must have been, his pure belief in God lead him there.  If as Christians, we believe in the Resurrection being God's plan, in any case.

But it is Easter Sunday, and I am thinking about my beliefs and my faith. This day, for Christians, is the holiest of days.  I am not a "practicing Christian" I just try to live in the way that my faith guides me.  Me.  Not You.   I am responsible for me. I have no problem with people believing other things, or not having any kind of "faith" at all.  Faith is not necessary for some people, although it gets me out of bed in the morning sometimes.  The belief that things will be better if good people put good in the world.  Maybe it is naivete, but I think a little of that is good.  Being angry and suspicious  ALL the time is not good for the soul.

I was not raised in a "religious" household.  My mother was raised Protestant, my father was Irish Catholic, until the priest kicked him out- allegedly for sassing the Nuns one too many times ( He asked her in Sunday School how a woman could have a baby and still be a virgin, she tossed him out).  My mother had a quiet faith, believed in  the Resurrection and held close to John 3:16 as her favorite verse.  She had in underlined in her small pocket bible, which I found after she died.

When I think of Easter, I try to remember this is a holiday centered around the idea of forgiveness and reconciliation.   Most religions have some sort of rebirth celebration that coincides with Spring.  As I celebrate today, I will think about forgiveness, renewal and life.

Can I say

Can I say I am sick of honey tea?  Can I say I am sick to DEATH of chicken soup?   Can I say I am tired of wheezing, and the congestion and gasping for air?  Yeah.  I have a serious case of asthma, complicated by some icky viral infection.  I am pretty sure I know where it came from.  WHY do people insist on coming to work so sick and spreading their germs wily nily?  This is no joke for me.  I can't remember WHEN I was last this sick.  My immune system is down, due to the inordinate amount of stress I have been under lately.  I THOUGHT I was doing ok.  Guess not.  I am NOT a good patient- no PATIENCE. I want this done.  NOW.

For the first time in my life I have a home nebulizer.  I am not crazy about this latest development in my health.  I am going to do whatever it takes to get better.


Easter is Sunday. I want to celebrate.  We will see where it goes.

Home, sick and thoughts about oh.. anything

I thought my asthma was just out of control. It IS but apparently I have some kind of icky viral infection on top of this.  THIS is NOT good, I don't have time to be THIS sick.

I'm stuck at home, with brief trips to the grocery store for stuff I need.  I have no energy and only have ONE book left in my arsenal to read.  That means I am watching a lot of "daytime television" which is really crap.  I got sucked into the soulless hell  of "Paternity court"  Even I could see the baby looked JUST like the father. Honestly what is is about some men who father a child but the minute they get into an argument, deny the child and accuse the girl of sleeping with the entire neighborhood.   Sheesh.  It was like a train wreck.  I felt sorry for the kid.

No word yet on my surgery date, just as well as I am on heavy duty meds to get my breathing stabilized.

My daughter says I never mention her in these blogs.  I do that for a reason.  She and my son-in-love are very private people and I try to be careful in what I say so as not to intrude, BUT Danny is in the process of opening a tv sales and repair shop in Yucca and I am very proud of him.  I am not sure if he has had his grand opening yet.  it's called "the TV Store"  I love them both.  I know they love me too and will always be there for me.

Oh and Bob.  I love Bob.


Hope to be up and around tomorrow.  My favorite burrito place is closing ONE of it's two locations and I NEED to go before she closes it.  This is the larger sit-down Yucas and the only one that makes the Jajuba burrito. I keep hoping she will find a new place and QUICKLY.   She needs one with good parking and a lot of space.  The old Denny's up here is for sale, Dora ( she says hopefully)   If Dora did move operations to Tujunga I would probably weigh even MORE than I do now!!!

An American in Paris

A friend of mine has season tickets at the Pantages, Incredible  seats around the fourth row and she unexpectedly had an extra seat to Saturday's performance.    It was a win-win, an evening of playing catch-up with my friend AND the treat of an excellent musical.

Gershwin and ballet?   As the song goes, "Who could ask for anything more?"  The performance started late,  Apparently something had happened to the principal dancer and they had to get the understudy out there.  Barton Cowpethwaite did an excellent job in "Jerry" the Gene Kelly role.  He is a marvelous dancer.  His singing was ok- he was a bit flat sometimes to my ear, but I'm going to chalk that up to what must have been a huge case of nerves. The house was packed and I don't think he was really ready to go out there. He gave "Jerry" an earnest vulnerability. At the close of the performance, the actress who played "Lise" the Leslie Caron  part, gave him a HUGE bouquet of flowers and he was roundly applauded by the cast and the audience, which gave them all a standing ovation. He saved the night.

The play itself was wonderful.  Costuming was gorgeous, and the minimalist staging, with tables, chairs and small rolling partitions being seamlessly rolled into place by the cast created a terrific visual effect. There was not a lot of use of video, but  the screen provided a backdrop that enhanced rather than detracted from the on stage action.  Some of the onstage costume changes were a delightful surprise.  I LOVED the big nightclub dance number toward the end of the second act,  Watching the dances seem to float in both the tap numbers and the gorgeous ballet that finished the play reminded me of what athletes dancers really are.  It got me thinking about how male dancers were made fun of as being "poofy" and how many football players later discovered that they could up THEIR game by taking ballet lessons ( Jerry Rice for one)

All in all, a great production. I have to see the film again.I think I will find it a bit dated but  I love Gene Kelly. I'm glad I was familiar with the music, which was pure delight.   A lot of the themes that were snuck in were sly reference to modern times.  The dancing made me think of my Dad, a man who loved dancing. He would have enjoyed this one.

Thoughts in free-fall

I am sitting at my computer, just... typing.  Whatever pops into my head.  I am dealing with the upcoming surgery and all it's implications by thinking that there will be nothing more than the lumpectomy.  Even though the surgeon gave me "worst case scenarios"  I am hoping for the BEST possible outcome.

I hope to be able to mend a rift with someone I love very much.  I really have to accept that this may not be possible.  I am going to try by not trying.    When this person is ready to talk, I will listen.  Sometimes, we react to our own fears by lashing out in anger at the very person who needs you not to.  I understand that, but it is difficult to deal with.  In the mean time, I am going to settle in my head what I need to do to face the surgery and the outcome.   I will get through everything.

"I have seen the Eternal Footman hold my coat and snicker and in short, I was afraid"  Ok  T.S. Eliot.  I quote him a lot.  He is one of my favorite poets.  I do understand he was a monumental asshole, but that boy could WRITE.  When I saw the surgeon, Kaiser gave me a booklet about Advanced Directives.  Honestly it looked like an elementary school style workbook.   I suppose I should read it, maybe talk to Chris about things, maybe write things out.  I am NOT going to die.  Not yet anyway. I am FIRM in that, but maybe it's time for that conversation.  It's often the Elephant in the room.

In the meantime, I am looking forward to seeing "An American in Paris" this evening.  A friend had an extra ticket and it was "just the ticket" for me.  I was thinking about how I would LOVE to see more theater and she called me!  I am looking forward to possibly seeing parts of Henry Ong's play "the Dream of the Red Chamber"  I love Henry,  I worked with him years ago and never knew that this quiet unassuming man was actually a brilliant playwright.  His work is delightful and as this is a magnum opus, I expect to be enchanted by it.

What's going on- so far

Stop reading right now if you are one of the people who complained that my blogs and my FB page are getting a bit, shall we say.. DARK?    I am moving toward sunlight, but the journey is  still a bit dark.

Yesterday, I met with the surgeon who will remove the possible pre-cancerous "somethings" from my right breast.  The possibility of them turning cancerous is more likely than not, so we are taking out the lumps as soon as we can get it scheduled. I will NOT be making any plans that cannot be canceled at a moment's notice.  They say they will give me two days.   I have to stop taking certain supplements and not take other things at all.

I am ready.

My surgeon is a young woman.  I probably have shoes older than her, but I got an immediate sense of her skills and her humor and I trust that she will take good care of me.  It's important to feel that way, don't you think?  She was more informative than the last surgeon, who I am fairly sure was the Undead.  He had NO bedside manner, although he was a good surgeon.  He neglected to tell me ALL that would happen.  She laid out the steps and we laughed a bit about how they need to put a Styrofoam cup over the guide-wire they will insert prior to the actual surgery.  She told me that she HOPES not to find anything and that nothing has spread to my lymph nodes.  We are doing the minimum right now as it looks like it's NOT cancer- YET. I am going into this with a positive outlook for a quick removal and NOTHING ELSE.

Still , cancer ain't no joke and I will repeat EARLY DETECTION is the key to a great survival rate.   I have wonderful friends who care and a husband who will not leave my side during this whole procedure.  I think recovery will be a few days and I am planning on reading and sleeping , A LOT. Hell of a way to get a vacation!  If you have any books you are recommending, fire away!

Fear means Face Everything And Rise

Why don't we allow ourselves to acknowledge that we are afraid?  Yesterday, after receiving the devastating, yet half-expected news that while the "somethings" are not cancerous, the operative word in the sentence is YET and I will be undergoing surgery to remove them; a coworker chastised me for expressing my fear and called me a wimp.  That hurt and I didn't know what to say.  Explaining seemed pointless and I suppose I should be more circumspect in future dealings with this person.

I think we should be allowed to express that we are afraid without judgement.  I find my strength when I talk with others who are like-minded, I suppose.  I hope I never belittle anyone who says they are afraid of something and that in talking I help them get past the fear into the "doing".

I have been called a wimp and a chicken my entire life.  It's hard, but there it is. I have always believed true courage is being afraid and doing it anyway.  The person I was speaking with probably hasn't been afraid of anything in her entire life.  I have NO idea what that feels like. I do what needs to be done, afraid or not.  There are people who have never been afraid of anything.  Bully for them.  I am not one of them.

I didn't start out to make this a confessional, but I suppose I needed to say something about it.  Yes, I am afraid.  It's surgery.  I am resolved that I will have a successful outcome and the little hoodlums hanging out in the lower part of my right breast will NOT be around to turn into cancer.   I have had this surgery before, about eleven years ago. I think I know what to expect.  I meet with the surgeon today and I hope she will understand that what I think I need is JUST the lumpectomy, since there is no evidence of cancer.

This morning, I will allow myself tears, then pick myself up and dust myself off and meet the challenge head on, as I always do.  Courage is NOT the absence of fear and FEAR means Face Everything and Rise