This is Memorial Day weekend. I worked Saturday and my co-workers were all talking about Barbecue and where best to get it. As a result on Saturday, I was jonesing for BBQ and wound up getting it at our local place, where for a brief time in the late 70's, my Dad worked. Saturday would have been my Dad's 98th birthday and I would have visited the cemetery, but it IS Memorial day and probably a real zoo, I am not as patient at large crowds and traffic jams as I used to be.
But I have been thinking about those conversations over work on Saturday, what people were going to do with their three days off ( two and half since we were all working Saturday morning) Some people talked about BBQs some talked about sleeping in. I thought about the mountains of cleaning I needed to do in preparation for a friend's overnight visit. My back bedroom is really a storage area these days. Sigh. We did get a lot sorted and tossed and ready to donate to the Vietnam Veterans. Still I can't help circling back to this day and it's meaning:
For a lot of people Memorial Day has lost its' true meaning. Is it another long weekend? the start of Summer? the Indy 500? Well all of those things happen and are partial true, but I am working hard to bring to mind the real reason for this "holiday", it is to remember those who died in service to this country. It is not a day to thank service members for their service. The day set aside for THAT is Veterans Day in November or Armed Forces Day on the 3rd Sunday in May. Truthfully ANY day is a good day to thank service members for their service, but THIS day honors the memory of those who gave the ultimate sacrifice.
In the 70's, people wore bracelets with the names of POW's in the Vietnam war, to bring attention to their plight and to remember every day the person who was a prisoner. I was against the war, but wanted to honor the people who were caught in between. My bracelet had the name Captain Clifford Fieszel. I wore it and when it broke I got a replacement with his name. He was a pilot who was shot down. The Vietnamese said the had captured him, but there was never any proof and he never came home . His name is on the wall, and there is a grave in his memory, but he was never found. I think of him and others like him, this Memorial Day. As they lay a wreath on the Tomb of the Unknown, I think of families who never knew the fate of their loved ones and of families who buried family coming home in a flag draped coffin.
This is a solemn holiday; one for reflection and prayer. Sure, have that BBQ , but take a moment today to thank those who died in service to this county to make what we have possible.
Monday, May 28, 2018
Wednesday, May 23, 2018
Weird "Movie" dreams
Occasionally, I have these dreams that are like watching a movie. I am in them, playing a character. I am certainly not me.
Last night's dream was fun. In it, Tom Hanks was playing my father. I was a teenager with a little sister. Tom tell us all to pack for Paris. Tom is a writer who is really an international spy and we are going to Paris for a few days. He is bringing us for 'cover" as he needs to meet with another spy. He tells us to pack enough for two days. At some point in the trip I begin to worry I have not packed enough of the right clothes and enough underwear. I comfort myself with the thought that I probably packed at least one pair and can wash them out in the sink if I need to ( ok I TOLD you this was a weird dream). We fly in the front of a commercial airline, but there is no pilot . My "Mother" complains she hates flying like this. apparently this is normal. We get to our room. Tom send me and my little sister out shopping, but my purse is not big enough so I look in the hotel closet and find a metal lunchbox like we used to carry in elementary school. It is big enough. Tom insists I pack a hammer in the lunchbox, just in case. I head out and I am laughing as I have read what the spies have written about my "father" Tom. They are very convinced he cannot type. This seems to be an important piece of information and I think it's very funny as he is a writer ( and Tom owns a bunch of antique typewriters) I come back and Tom introduces me to my "cousin" we are going to a fancy dinner and she lends me a white wool skirt and top for the occasion. She also gives me a white stuffed bunny. Dinner is uneventful, but I leave the bunny at her home when we leave. It explodes. It turns out the cousin is a spy for the other side.
My alarm went off at this point. I enjoy the movie dreams quite a bit. They are much better than the nightmares I have been having. Maybe the dream catcher we hung over the bed is working. I am AMAZED at the number of people who have them tied to the rear-view mirror of their CARS. Are you SLEEPING while driving. Sometime, I think they must be, if you read my last blog!
Last night's dream was fun. In it, Tom Hanks was playing my father. I was a teenager with a little sister. Tom tell us all to pack for Paris. Tom is a writer who is really an international spy and we are going to Paris for a few days. He is bringing us for 'cover" as he needs to meet with another spy. He tells us to pack enough for two days. At some point in the trip I begin to worry I have not packed enough of the right clothes and enough underwear. I comfort myself with the thought that I probably packed at least one pair and can wash them out in the sink if I need to ( ok I TOLD you this was a weird dream). We fly in the front of a commercial airline, but there is no pilot . My "Mother" complains she hates flying like this. apparently this is normal. We get to our room. Tom send me and my little sister out shopping, but my purse is not big enough so I look in the hotel closet and find a metal lunchbox like we used to carry in elementary school. It is big enough. Tom insists I pack a hammer in the lunchbox, just in case. I head out and I am laughing as I have read what the spies have written about my "father" Tom. They are very convinced he cannot type. This seems to be an important piece of information and I think it's very funny as he is a writer ( and Tom owns a bunch of antique typewriters) I come back and Tom introduces me to my "cousin" we are going to a fancy dinner and she lends me a white wool skirt and top for the occasion. She also gives me a white stuffed bunny. Dinner is uneventful, but I leave the bunny at her home when we leave. It explodes. It turns out the cousin is a spy for the other side.
My alarm went off at this point. I enjoy the movie dreams quite a bit. They are much better than the nightmares I have been having. Maybe the dream catcher we hung over the bed is working. I am AMAZED at the number of people who have them tied to the rear-view mirror of their CARS. Are you SLEEPING while driving. Sometime, I think they must be, if you read my last blog!
Thursday, May 17, 2018
Thoughts while driving
I work downtown. It takes me about an hour to get to work and about an hour and a half to get home. I have no idea why, except the one-way streets and all the construction make for a longer commute OUT of the City than into it. Weird.
I have been driving downtown for almost 32 year- give or take, longer than that if I add in the two years I worked at CDD. I took the train and the subway for several years but that doesn't really work with where I am living and taking the subway took a lot longer than driving and I really was't saving money, so back behind the wheel.
I have had my license since I was 17. This is LA the car culture is everything. I drove my mom's candy apple red Maverick, when she could spare it. She loved that car. They bought me a VW when I started college. it was named Hans Joachim or HA Jot for short. After a while I nicknamed it Hansel, as it left a trail of oil wherever it went. Sigh. It leaked so much, I carried a case of oil and a spout in the back seat. I could stop and a stop light, open the motor compartment and add oil before the light changed. PIT CREW!
When I started driving, my mom told me to drive like everyone had just been released from the insane asylum. Good advice, even more so today, where drivers act like they are the only car on the road. My favorite types are:
The luxury car driver who thinks he owns the whole road
The Uber or Lyft driver who parks in the rush hour lanes and puts their blinkers on like they are broken down and NOT waiting for a fare
The driver who cuts you off THEN signals to indicate they have JUST CUT YOU OFF
The driver who tailgates you in rush hour traffic, as if you could magically make the traffic go away. HEY BUDDY there's a car in FRONT of me. I usually move over and watch them tailgate that car.
The driver who sees the long line of cars trying to turn right but races to the front of the line and plays chicken with you.
The driver who knows the lane next to you is going to end or exit the freeway, but jumps OUT of that line and races around to try to get ahead of everyone in the lane he was in. Way to go, you just got two cars ahead of me. Congratulations.
As near as I can tell, I have about 900 more days of this excitement before I retire and stop driving downtown. I WILL say this. Commuter drivers are easier to deal with than the Average Driver who is going somewhere on the weekend and encounters traffic. Those drivers get angry and confused and are much more unpredictable and road ragey than people who do this for a living, so to speak.
I'm off to get in my car. Thank GOODNESS for Pandora and books on CD!
I have been driving downtown for almost 32 year- give or take, longer than that if I add in the two years I worked at CDD. I took the train and the subway for several years but that doesn't really work with where I am living and taking the subway took a lot longer than driving and I really was't saving money, so back behind the wheel.
I have had my license since I was 17. This is LA the car culture is everything. I drove my mom's candy apple red Maverick, when she could spare it. She loved that car. They bought me a VW when I started college. it was named Hans Joachim or HA Jot for short. After a while I nicknamed it Hansel, as it left a trail of oil wherever it went. Sigh. It leaked so much, I carried a case of oil and a spout in the back seat. I could stop and a stop light, open the motor compartment and add oil before the light changed. PIT CREW!
When I started driving, my mom told me to drive like everyone had just been released from the insane asylum. Good advice, even more so today, where drivers act like they are the only car on the road. My favorite types are:
The luxury car driver who thinks he owns the whole road
The Uber or Lyft driver who parks in the rush hour lanes and puts their blinkers on like they are broken down and NOT waiting for a fare
The driver who cuts you off THEN signals to indicate they have JUST CUT YOU OFF
The driver who tailgates you in rush hour traffic, as if you could magically make the traffic go away. HEY BUDDY there's a car in FRONT of me. I usually move over and watch them tailgate that car.
The driver who sees the long line of cars trying to turn right but races to the front of the line and plays chicken with you.
The driver who knows the lane next to you is going to end or exit the freeway, but jumps OUT of that line and races around to try to get ahead of everyone in the lane he was in. Way to go, you just got two cars ahead of me. Congratulations.
As near as I can tell, I have about 900 more days of this excitement before I retire and stop driving downtown. I WILL say this. Commuter drivers are easier to deal with than the Average Driver who is going somewhere on the weekend and encounters traffic. Those drivers get angry and confused and are much more unpredictable and road ragey than people who do this for a living, so to speak.
I'm off to get in my car. Thank GOODNESS for Pandora and books on CD!
Sunday, May 13, 2018
Soft Power
My friend Judith had an extra ticket to see Soft Power at the Ahmanson. I had seen the lamppost banners, as I pass the Music Center every day as I go to work, but knew nothing about the play itself and it had no local buzz. I accepted because ( in no particular order) I love theater and I don't get to go that often; I like seeing Judith and it was a chance to catch up and; she has amazing seats and how often do you get to enjoy something from the front row?
Soft Power is defined as a persuasive approach to international relations, typically involving the use of economic or cultural influence. This play was part play, part musical. It was nothing short of amazing. Frankly, the description of the play made me think it was going to be a drag- something like a Chinese film producer comes to America and falls in love with the President Hillary Clinton. WAY OFF. The play does concern a relationship between the producer, Xue Xing and Mrs. Clinton but it's really much more than that. It is VERY political and critical of the current Administration, "Dear Leader" in particular. My takeaway was that although the direction this country is going is bad- the environment, education and our relations with other counties is in the dumpster, in my opinion- Democracy is STILL the best way to go. We should NOT give up, just because those in power seem to have all the power. The play makes the point that counties in power are exerting "soft power" on other nations to get what they want. Our country seems to just want to blow things up.
Due to horrendous traffic, we were late to the theater and missed the first twelve minutes, except there IS a monitor in the bar and you can watch the show from there so we DID get the gist of the premise. When we did get in, our seats are near the aisle so it wasn't TOO intrusive and we moved quickly- I noticed that the man sitting two seats away was SOUND asleep and snoring to beat the band ( literally, at one point during the pause he let out a RIP of a snore that could be heard all over the theater) He and his seat mate were NOT impressed with the play, his seatmate grousing to us in the elevator that they needed to "go back to page one and re-write the whole thing" I thought it was wonderful The cast was terrific. If you go, look for a nod of the cap to "The King and I" and Aaron Copland ( I think one of the dance sequences was from Appalachian Spring, but it COULD be Oklahoma, I am unsure) The entire cast, except for two characters whose race HAD to be non-Asian- were Asian.
I thoroughly enjoyed the play and recommend it.
Soft Power is defined as a persuasive approach to international relations, typically involving the use of economic or cultural influence. This play was part play, part musical. It was nothing short of amazing. Frankly, the description of the play made me think it was going to be a drag- something like a Chinese film producer comes to America and falls in love with the President Hillary Clinton. WAY OFF. The play does concern a relationship between the producer, Xue Xing and Mrs. Clinton but it's really much more than that. It is VERY political and critical of the current Administration, "Dear Leader" in particular. My takeaway was that although the direction this country is going is bad- the environment, education and our relations with other counties is in the dumpster, in my opinion- Democracy is STILL the best way to go. We should NOT give up, just because those in power seem to have all the power. The play makes the point that counties in power are exerting "soft power" on other nations to get what they want. Our country seems to just want to blow things up.
Due to horrendous traffic, we were late to the theater and missed the first twelve minutes, except there IS a monitor in the bar and you can watch the show from there so we DID get the gist of the premise. When we did get in, our seats are near the aisle so it wasn't TOO intrusive and we moved quickly- I noticed that the man sitting two seats away was SOUND asleep and snoring to beat the band ( literally, at one point during the pause he let out a RIP of a snore that could be heard all over the theater) He and his seat mate were NOT impressed with the play, his seatmate grousing to us in the elevator that they needed to "go back to page one and re-write the whole thing" I thought it was wonderful The cast was terrific. If you go, look for a nod of the cap to "The King and I" and Aaron Copland ( I think one of the dance sequences was from Appalachian Spring, but it COULD be Oklahoma, I am unsure) The entire cast, except for two characters whose race HAD to be non-Asian- were Asian.
I thoroughly enjoyed the play and recommend it.
Friday, May 11, 2018
Hard to write, hard to breathe
It's been something of a Mr Toad's Wild Ride lately and NOT in a good way. Once again, my asthma is winning the battle, but I am determined. My doctors and I started a new regimen with the meds and things seem to be easing. Time will tell.
About two weeks ago, I got the tragic news that my friend and former boss, Betsey Hoage, had died suddenly. I am still in shock. I think that most people already know this, but she had acute leukemia. We don't think she had been diagnosed and had no symptoms. I will miss her, but I think she had a good life; a career she loved, friends who were like family, she traveled to exotic places, she LIVED. We have been sharing stories about her, to remember is to ease the pain, isn't it? I know that when she was my boss, I always felt valued- like my opinion had weight even if I weren't a librarian ( I can't tell you how many people I worked with thought I must be a raging idiot because I don't have an MLS .) We would joke about things, she was always bringing in something she had baked and when she went on trips would bring back little souvenirs for the staff. She was thoughtful and creative. She made the most beautiful quilts. Bob was the recipient of one such lovely giraffe themed work of art. My daughter Kate wrapped her newborn son in it. Kate treasures it.
When someone dies suddenly, you realize all the things you meant to do with them or say to them. I am going to try NOT to leave kindness unspoken, try to HAVE those meals, drink that beer, or tea or coffee. If I say "Let's get together, I am going to pull out my calendar and SCHEDULE it with you. No more "one day" One Day is NOW!
Chris and I are back from our road trip and as soon as I can figure out what happened to my "Stuff you can Stomach" page ( they "improved" it and I can't figure out how to POST on the darn thing) I will be sharing the "wisdom" of places to eat and places to avoid in Las Vegas!
About two weeks ago, I got the tragic news that my friend and former boss, Betsey Hoage, had died suddenly. I am still in shock. I think that most people already know this, but she had acute leukemia. We don't think she had been diagnosed and had no symptoms. I will miss her, but I think she had a good life; a career she loved, friends who were like family, she traveled to exotic places, she LIVED. We have been sharing stories about her, to remember is to ease the pain, isn't it? I know that when she was my boss, I always felt valued- like my opinion had weight even if I weren't a librarian ( I can't tell you how many people I worked with thought I must be a raging idiot because I don't have an MLS .) We would joke about things, she was always bringing in something she had baked and when she went on trips would bring back little souvenirs for the staff. She was thoughtful and creative. She made the most beautiful quilts. Bob was the recipient of one such lovely giraffe themed work of art. My daughter Kate wrapped her newborn son in it. Kate treasures it.
When someone dies suddenly, you realize all the things you meant to do with them or say to them. I am going to try NOT to leave kindness unspoken, try to HAVE those meals, drink that beer, or tea or coffee. If I say "Let's get together, I am going to pull out my calendar and SCHEDULE it with you. No more "one day" One Day is NOW!
Chris and I are back from our road trip and as soon as I can figure out what happened to my "Stuff you can Stomach" page ( they "improved" it and I can't figure out how to POST on the darn thing) I will be sharing the "wisdom" of places to eat and places to avoid in Las Vegas!
Friday, April 20, 2018
Poem
It's April, National Poetry Month so here goes;
I remember that Summer
I must have been eight
jammed into the back seat
of my parents Nova
with my sister and the red metal cooler
filled with root beer
and real beer
for impromptu stops
on the side of the road
We stopped once
at a roadside cafe
we hoped would have hamburgers
and a bathroom
but it was closed
and the desolate
abandoned look of the place
Still makes me wonder how long it had been closed
and if they owners just walked away from it
we stood on the wooden porch
a very long time
as if
in waiting
we could cause someone to appear.
No Air conditioning in that car
we rolled down the windows and held on
on those back roads through the desert
that my dad preferred,
the ones that rose and fell like
an endless roller coaster
ultimately,
I got sick and they had to stop
and dose me with
car-sickness medicine
which I swallowed
with the now-hot root beer
the carbonation like needles in my mouth
and my throat
It made me sleepy
they had to carry me to the motel room.
Those rooms always smelled
like stale coca-cola
and old cigarettes
the air conditioner had that peculiar
chemical taint
that seeped into the pillows
and the inevitable chenille bedspreads
that always seemed to be part of the motel landscape
in 1966
Thursday, April 19, 2018
Barbara Bush
Since she passed away this week at 92, I have been thinking about her. I never really was a BIG fan, to tell you the truth. The Bush clan left me cold and still do. I don't actively hate them and never wished them to the cornfield, as I can say I have with SOME people in politics, but yeah, not tripping over myself to meet any of them and not shedding tears. I am not turning handsprings. I am reflecting on her as a public figure.
The thought that "They sell us the President the same way they sell us our clothes and our cars" ( a line from Jackson Browne's brilliant "Lives in the Balance" which rings as true today as it did in the 80's) reminds me that they ALSO sell the First Lady as .. whatever. Barbara Bush was marketed as a kindly Grandmotherly woman who always wore pearls. I was looking to see if there were a reason, apparently not. ( side note to my friend Tom ; Barbara Billingsly apparently wore them to cover a scar on her neck. No word on Donna Reed)
But her "grandmotherly" image was somewhat tarnished when she was overheard by reporters calling Geraldine Ferraro, who was Walter Mondale's running mate in the 1984 election a "rhymes with rich" I was disappointed in her. Ferraro probably hadn't done anything but campaign. Looking back on it, I suppose she was just caught being who she was, a wise cracking woman with a sharp sense of humor, but we were supposed to see her as a cookie baking, apron bedecked Grandma- and Grandma's don't swear.
Well MINE did, but that's a subject for a future blog.
Barbara Bush advanced literacy, was an advocate for books and reading for children and adults. Her commitment to literacy for all Americans carried on after her time as First Lady. Her Foundation and the work it does is a testament to who she really was.
Odd factoid, Barbara Pierce Bush was a distant cousin many times removed, from Franklin Pierce who was apparently one of the worst president ever. His actions set the stage for the Civil War. We don't really learn much about him in US History. but thank goodness for Wikipedia. Seeing things like that makes me wonder about the nature of politics and whether certain families just gravitate toward politics; think the Kennedy's, the Bush Family ( Daddy Bush's daddy was a senator, after all). The news talked about Barbara Bush and a "life of public service". I wonder why anyone would choose such a life. It seems that half the public loves you and the other half loathe you. Maybe the money is good, if you look at the wealth of the current crop of Congressional leaders. But I digress.
Rest in Peace, Mrs. Bush. Thank you for your service. I hope you had a wonderful life.
The thought that "They sell us the President the same way they sell us our clothes and our cars" ( a line from Jackson Browne's brilliant "Lives in the Balance" which rings as true today as it did in the 80's) reminds me that they ALSO sell the First Lady as .. whatever. Barbara Bush was marketed as a kindly Grandmotherly woman who always wore pearls. I was looking to see if there were a reason, apparently not. ( side note to my friend Tom ; Barbara Billingsly apparently wore them to cover a scar on her neck. No word on Donna Reed)
But her "grandmotherly" image was somewhat tarnished when she was overheard by reporters calling Geraldine Ferraro, who was Walter Mondale's running mate in the 1984 election a "rhymes with rich" I was disappointed in her. Ferraro probably hadn't done anything but campaign. Looking back on it, I suppose she was just caught being who she was, a wise cracking woman with a sharp sense of humor, but we were supposed to see her as a cookie baking, apron bedecked Grandma- and Grandma's don't swear.
Well MINE did, but that's a subject for a future blog.
Barbara Bush advanced literacy, was an advocate for books and reading for children and adults. Her commitment to literacy for all Americans carried on after her time as First Lady. Her Foundation and the work it does is a testament to who she really was.
Odd factoid, Barbara Pierce Bush was a distant cousin many times removed, from Franklin Pierce who was apparently one of the worst president ever. His actions set the stage for the Civil War. We don't really learn much about him in US History. but thank goodness for Wikipedia. Seeing things like that makes me wonder about the nature of politics and whether certain families just gravitate toward politics; think the Kennedy's, the Bush Family ( Daddy Bush's daddy was a senator, after all). The news talked about Barbara Bush and a "life of public service". I wonder why anyone would choose such a life. It seems that half the public loves you and the other half loathe you. Maybe the money is good, if you look at the wealth of the current crop of Congressional leaders. But I digress.
Rest in Peace, Mrs. Bush. Thank you for your service. I hope you had a wonderful life.
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