Concerts

A fun new twist on the internet slam book. Play if you want by creating your own list.


*First concert — Brenda Lee, she was twelve or so and I was around four and it was the first time I wanted to BE someone else. https://youtu.be/sxEDxiWZx20 


*Most Recent concert — Over the Rhine https://youtu.be/wvs9SQH6G14


*Best concert — Elton John and Billy Joel together on the stage — or maybe Anderson East who excites me beyond words - or Englebert who I honestly wasn’t sure I would survive after he walked on stage, opened his arms, and sang “Welcome to My World” https://youtu.be/v_CoI6ldkE0 and my fucking heart stood still because I wanted that moment to never end - or it could have been Ella Fitzgerald and Duke Ellington because I couldn’t believe I was actually there - but then there was something so very special about seeing The Jackson Five’s ABC tour and being one of the two white people in the packed arena (there might have been others in the nose bleed section where we couldn't see them but we shrugged and wondered what was wrong with 'our people'). This was before the handlers choreographed so little bitty Michael was still doing his own thing and it was adorable. https://youtu.be/aHLZJHUtcjI  


*Worst concert — Peter Frampton was the biggest disappointment but I think it was because J. Geils opened and the energy change made Frampton feel boring


*Seen the most— tough call, too. Ones I lost count of: Dr. Hook https://youtu.be/s7Z50V7tadg (can't mention Dr. Hook without saying how much I adore Shel Silverstein) , Gary Morris https://youtu.be/rA1KCv8cXY8, Willie Nelson, Kris Kristofferson, Brandi Carlile, Anderson East https://youtu.be/6uG-WiaBAKU, Over the Rhine, and (embarrassingly now) Alabama - unless I count bands my husbands and friends were in


*Next concert — Would give anything for it to be Karise Eden https://youtu.be/pi1FAb4Ej9w


*Most Fun concert - Dr. Hook for their performance, M C Hammer for the envy of my kids who couldn’t believe we didn’t take the kids, Gary Edwards because he pulled me on stage and sang a song to me, Gary Morris because -- you’ll have to read my autobiography through music for the reasons


*Wish you could see — Many people but I am fortunate to have seen sooooo many, and especially to have had back stage access to so many. I consider it one of the biggest entries on the pro side of the balance card that is my life

Accept Gifts That Keep Giving

If I put my mind to it, I could probably list almost every gift I have received as an adult and many from my childhood. The first one I remember wasn’t a planned gift but I’m counting it because it’s my first memory in life. When I finally recalled it decades later and described the dress I was wearing, who I was with, and how it came to be, my parents knew the day – and that I was three years old. 

My grandmother and her mother were walking me to the store, one on either side of me holding my hands, and occasionally swinging me, which was a thrill for me. Unfortunately, they weren’t swinging me as we crossed the railroad track and my black patent leather shoe got stuck between a rail and the ground beside it and weren’t able to retrieve it without destroying it. They took me on a bus to replace my shoes and I wouldn’t realize until many years later that the bus fare alone was probably a huge hardship for them. This realization was what made me recall the story and tell it to my parents. At the time, I just felt special that I got to ride on the bus in my yellow dress with Grandma and Granny and get new shoes. 

The second gift I remember vividly was a giant paper doll from Grandma. When I say giant, I mean giant. Grandma always bought the same gifts for my cousin Dina and me, so I hope paper dolls were also her favorite toys and she was truly as thrilled as I was. We were sitting on the floor at Dina’s house when we opened these giant paper dolls and they were taller than we were sitting down.

Later, because Grammy competed with Grandma in pretty much every way that I can think of except for saying the worse cuss words, Grammy gave me Jenny, the almost life-sized real doll. I can’t say that I loved Jenny more than I did the paper doll, but I was equally thrilled to get her and the two dresses that my grandmother made for her because she was sure we wouldn’t find clothes for her in stores. (pssst, Grammy, 4T might have worked but I loved those dresses.)

I sincerely appreciated every gift I received and still have many of them. As I see them in my home or pull them out of the cabinets to use (lots of kitchen gifts . . .  one heavy lead crystal glass remains of the four Aunt Jackie gave me in forty year ago for Christmas, I never bake a whole turkey and seldom drink or serve wine but the turkey platter that Sherri and Wayne and wine glasses that Tammy and Chuck gave me for Christmas and a wedding gift nearly that long ago are still in the top shelves of my cabinets. Strange as it may seem, I think of the gifts and people who gave them to me sometimes when I’m not using or looking at them. I remember my first roll-on deodorant and lip gloss – an Avon gift from an aunt to acknowledge that she realized I was growing up. In a small way, that acknowledgement changed my life.

When Uncle Mickey married Pam, I thought I hit the gift jackpot and that’s big for someone who had sincerely loved every gift. Maybe because they were close in age (6 years older than me) it was easier for her/them (I assumed her at the time) to know my exact taste so well. Their gifts weren’t extravagant, just so me. I preferred to think age had nothing to do with it and Pam, who became a close friend, person to run to when Mom was on my nerves, and softener to the love-hate relationship that Uncle Mickey and I had had since he had five sisters, no brothers and I was his third niece and he didn’t want ‘just another girl’. One of Pam’s biggest gifts was teaching me anatomy and guided me into the medical field, a place I never expected to go but It was a perfect fit when I got there. 

A few years after they divorced, Uncle Mickey gave me a sweater for Christmas. Just as I had appreciated the jellybean crock the year before (which I still have and use as a planter now because I would never own enough jellybeans to fill it), I appreciated this sweater but seriously wondered what he was thinking. It wasn’t like anything I wore – not my style or colors. There wasn’t a single reason I could think of for that sweater to have said, “Sandy,” to him. 

I discussed this sweater with Mom later and admitted that I was struggling with hurt feelings because it seemed to say he either didn’t pay attention me anymore, or he just picked up ‘something’ for me without giving it any thought. She said he probably liked the sweater and figured since he liked me, too, we belonged together. I told her I would have worn it even without that story but thanks for trying to make me feel better. I did hope it was something that simple and it was ridiculous for me to feel hurt. 

The first time I wore that sweater out, I got more compliments than usual. People told me I looked beautiful, happy, healthy, and asked if I had changed my makeup or done something different with my hair. Every time I wore that sweater, people reacted similarly.  A few might have said they liked the sweater, but the comments were overwhelmingly about me with no mention of the it.

Years later, when ‘having colors done’ became a thing and I came home with my swatch packet, my best colors were in that sweater. And I was still wearing that sweater (as I did until it fell apart). I was also liking Uncle Mickey enough to thank him for seeing me better than I saw myself – but harbored enough of the smart ass/hate side of our relationship to tell him he missed his calling. He should have been a fashion consultant instead of a Naval Engineer. 

The cryptic sweater ended up being an amazing gift that kept on giving, long after it was gone. I’m loving that sweater right now, decades later and wishing Uncle Mickey was still alive so I could call and tell him. Again. 

I am not a fan of registries and gift lists and highly recommend allowing people to give what they care to look for or are moved to gift based on what you mean to them. Sometimes, it is more of a gift than you can imagine.

Tomorrow is his birthday

Do I call? Should I call today if I decide I want to wish him a happy birthday since he’ll probably be with family tomorrow and won’t answer his phone and then I’ll think fuck him for not answering even though I sort of respect him for refusing to answer his phone when he’s with people?

Or, do I just message him? Then, he’ll know I remembered. Will he wonder why I just sent a message and didn’t call him?

I read the memes about ghosting (a new word for an old lady but a familiar situation) and how I am supposed to receive the hint and get over people who ghost me. And, to be perfectly honest, it’s impossible to even estimate the number of times this man has hurt my feelings in the last fifty-two years. Yeah, I have hung on and made myself available for more for half a century. Most of my life.

Because love never dies.

I can count the number of times he has broken my heart, though. Three. It’s possible that is an even score. But I’m not sure I want to receive the hint or should get over him. So, fuck memes.

It was a first relationship, first real kiss, first butterflies, first time lost in a crush on someone who was in my life and not on a television or movie screen. It didn’t count as a first real love then, but it became a real love when I returned after my first real love and my first real husband.  So, like those loves, this one never dies either.

I consider myself the queen of unpopular opinions and this –whatever this is—feels right but makes me question my sanity. Why can’t I just tuck him away in a treasure box with the ones who have died and let him ghost away? Why do I have to know and care that if I don’t call, he’ll feel ghosted and I’ll feel like a bitch? Why do I expect more of myself than I expect from him?

Of course, I know the answers to these questions. And I’ll call. Because love never dies, even when people don’t want to be in a relationship.

I think memes don’t consider the possibility that ghosting just might happen when people are afraid they’ll cross old familiar lines and cause more hurt so it’s not all bad. 

  via awwmemes.com

Reading about a progressive organization

A progressive organization questions in my mind already - is this group calling itself progressive and is it really an organization? Can’t imagine anyone I trust calling themselves progressive right now since that word has been hijacked by Sanders and clones, misused and abused, and is therefore meaningless to me   is plunging itself plunging itself is such an odd choice of words – plunge is a quick move that mostly seems negative to me, like under duress or in fear so I sense desperation or thoughtlessness into the presidential campaign, for real?! This ‘progressive organization’ is ‘plunging’ into a presidential campaign that started the day after the horrific election stolen from Hillary three years ago? Surely, they’ve been working frantically to have that election invalidated and, finally, after all that hard work, realize they can’t get this done so now they have to do something DESPERATE like PLUNGE – my heart is racing because this must be great news unveiling plans to spend $75 million on digital advertising to counter President Trump’s early spending advantage in key 2020 battleground states. WTAF – my heart dropped and my head is spending. 2020 battleground states? Digital advertising? Ads that Twitter will refuse to run so that Trump’s news agencies (ALL NETWORK AND CABLE NEWS, as well as all of his fake news pimps like Breitbart, et al, can have all of the space to ‘report’ Trump’s messages? Like that? And where, if they don’t manage to shutdown Facebook, they’ll be insisting that Zuckerberg spends billions more dollars fact-checking all of these ads after the right-wing trolls REPORT EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM? For real? This isn’t feeling like such a great idea anymore but I haven’t read enough . . .  let’s keep going

The effort, aww, shit – it’s just an effort? Not a bold, fool-proof plan?  by a nonprofit group called Acronym and an affiliated political action committee, HOLD ON JUST A LONG MINUTE OR TWO – progressives hate PACs, remember? They will have to condemn their own damned selves? This seems weird as hell to me. But how tricky to use the name Acronym instead of Anonymous.  is an outgrowth of growing concern by some Democratic officials We have officials? Can we name them? Better yet, can we identify Democratic non-officials, like Sanders and clones who want to destroy the party in the name of progress?  That would make me smile.  that Mr. Trump could build an insurmountable edge in those key states through massive early advertising efforts. Damn, my mind wanders. Remember those couple of years before Mr. Sanders  (of #TeamSanderstrumPutin) announced he was running in 2016 when he flooded the internet with all of those fake ‘draft Bernie’, ‘would you vote for Bernie’, ‘Bernie created everything progressive and don’t believe your memory or history when it tells you that he has stood in the way of progress and that all progress actually made was MADE BY REAL DEMOCRATS that he criticizes and wants to destroy’ -- and the progressive organizations (one using multiple names) that pimped meme after meme after meme and petition after petition after petition, mostly based on false premises, to totally saturate the internet with ‘free’ ads Mr. Trump has spent more than $26 million so far nationally just on Facebook and Google, ahh  Google/YouTube, where right-wing will always be able to buy themselves to the top – where I can enter MY NAME, the TITLE OF MY ARTICLE, and get 10,000 returns of things other than MY ARTICLE WITH MY NAME?  That Google? And Facebook that they pretend they want to fact check when they don’t even face check their own shit?  Seriously?   more than the four top-polling Democrats — Joseph R. Biden Jr., Elizabeth Warren, Bernie Sanders and Pete Buttigieg — have spent in total on those platforms. And there we have it – THE MEDIA’S TOP FOUR – not the top four of THE PEOPLE.

“The gun The gun?!  WTF is he talking about? on this general election does not start when we have a nominee; it started months ago,” said David Plouffe, who managed Barack Obama’s 2008 campaign and was a key adviser to him in 2012, and who recently joined Acronym’s board. ”If the things that need to happen don’t happen in these battleground states between now and May or June, our nominee will never have time to catch up.“ Let’s just talk about battleground states. Why are we allowing these first four states that don’t resemble reality so much power? Why aren’t we insisting that all primaries be held on the same day, and letting ALL OF THE PEOPLE SPEAK? Why isn’t someone progressive enough to think about what would actually be best for the party/country/world?

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Read more articles each month with a free account. Ummmm when I have more red than black, you really think I want to trust you? Or spend this much time trying to maybe learn a little something from you? 

Getting Old Isn't All Bad

Most days, I say or hear --or both-- some reason that getting old sucks.

Last week, I got a bit emotional telling my daughter that I had realized another great thing about aging. The longer I live, the more I realize how much people influenced my life. Often, even though I appreciated everything everyone did for me all along, the significance of their contribution didn't become apparent until much later. The people who brought out the emotions last week were the pharmachists I had worked with at the hospital. And talking about them led to my appreciation of the dietitians, and the poor daughter had to listen to me recount the entire staff because that's what we do in this family. 

One of the benefits of being an employee at the hospital was that I could fill presecriptions while at work, and I got a discount on anything that wasn't covered by my insurance. The added benefit of working with the pharmacists on committees was that I got to know them well enough to ask for advice and they'd either hang around after meetings or join me for lunch and share their knowledge and advice.  

As I went through years of new symptoms, and new diagnoses, and an assortment of doctors trying to guess what to do with me, I discussed every new prescription, in depth, with a pharmacist. Together, the they and I ruled out most of them after weighing benefits against probablity of side effects that would require a new drug to treat it, and more side effects requiring more drugs . . .  

Together, the pharmacy staff and I developed my no drugs unless they are necessary to keep me alive policy. And I found doctors willing to work with me on my terms.

Those pharmacists undoubtedly saved my life. That didn't occur to me until decades later so even if it's possible to track them down and thank them now, they probably don't even remember me.

Tonight, as I loaded my prescriptions into daily dose slots so I will know immediately if I miss a day, I realized it's a good thing I never considered pharmacy as a career choice. I really do hate that chore.

Not being able to remember if I took my meds last night is one of the sucky parts of getting old.