Can't Turn Me Around

Another Friday in my small little life in the time of covid-19.  There is so much happening in the world outside that I would love to be participating in.   I'd like to join people in my town as they gather in front of City Hall standing up for justice and racial equality.  I'd like to be in the streets marching with Black Lives Matter.

Except for the virus.

I am, after all, a 63 year old (just this week) with Type 1 diabetes and a host of other things that make me high risk.  So I watch movies recommended to better understand the black experience in the U.S.A.  Many of them I have seen before but there are new ones (for me).  I had a birthday fundraiser that exceeded my goal (thanks, friends) to raise $200 for the Equal Justice Initiative.  Turns out, this wasn't the first year I raised money for them.  I have also been a contributor to the Southern Poverty Law Center since the early 1980s and the ACLU.

One of the most moving experiences I've had was a visit to the International Civil Rights Center & Museum in Greensboro, NC.  I was visiting friends in Chapel Hill, Mount Airy and Asheville.  I don't remember how I found out about the center, but the fact that it was in the building where the Woolworth lunch counter sit-ins started, well, that was it for me!  The original lunch counter is still there on the ground floor, with the museum and center above.  Staffed mostly by young docents from the local colleges, it is an immersive experience.  My friend and I were the only white people there and we had some heartfelt conversations with the other visitors.

I believe change is going to come.  There is more momentum this time around.  NASCAR has banned the use of the Confederate flag, Confederate statutes are being pulled down by the people (not waiting for governments to take them down) and the military is hopefully changing the names of the numerous military basis that are named after Confederate generals.  I'm not naive enough to believe change will be all encompassing and come quickly, but I do feel a difference these days.  Of course it's up to us white people to change our behavior, which is after all, the problem.

I'm glad to see the many resources out there for white people to learn about the legacy of slavery, Jim Crow, the Tulsa rioting of white people killing black people (including dropping bombs on the town from private airplanes).  It's a long a terrible history, and it is our duty as citizens to know it.  We've turned away from it much too long.  Our schools need to devote more than one month a year to study our nation's sin and shame.





Keep the faith, friends. Have a good weekend.

Music Friday

Missed Mail and Close Calls

I applied for my Colorado driver's license on February 5, 2020. I have not yet received it so I went on-line to track down its whereabouts. Turns out it was mailed to me February 10, but returned as "un-deliverable." I double checked the address on my temporary card and it is correct. So, I can't get a hold of the DMV because offices are closed until May 18. I then will need an appointment to go into the office to retrieve it. They've got all my contact information, but of course have not contacted me. A bother, but small in comparison to the next bit of news.

Yesterday was my parents' 65th wedding anniversary. I called around lunchtime and got no answer. Odd. But I didn't panic. Maybe they were out walking their hallway at the retirement center.

Then I got the call at 4 pm from my dad: my almost 86 year old mom is in the hospital after having fallen down and hitting her head. Paramedics were needed to get her up, and they took her to the Emergency Room since her hip hurt as well and she's already suffered two broken hips over the last eleven years. Of course Dad can't go into the hospital with her and that is a critical danger for her. She cannot tolerate opioids of any kind, but this is on the medical information sheet the center gave the paramedics as they wheeled her out. She also is cognitively impaired as a result of Parkinson's, and becomes terribly paranoid and panicked in a hospital setting.

My thoughts began to race about all the terrible possibilities that lie ahead. Luckily, and thankfully, dad was able to pick her up at the end of the day and take her home. Whew. We worry about mom; she's very weak from almost thirty years with Parkinson's, and any chest infection would likely kill her. She's also becoming very difficult to move, even for trained caregivers, because she is so stiff and weak of limb. If and when she can no longer be cared for in their apartment she would need to be moved to the skilled nursing unit. In this time of COVID-19, people in that unit cannot receive any visitors. For my mother this would heighten her dementia and cause untold suffering. I was spinning out with worry that she would have to undergo surgery and recover in the SN unit and it would be a nightmare for her.

This is the same unit where my husband died in January this year. They take good care of people there, but it is still something no one would want. There is much sadness, suffering, and death there. Luckily, Steve was there for just over a week. He hated it. It was a blessed relief when he quietly slipped away in the wee hours of the morning.
So now that I've depressed the living shite out of you, how about some soothing music?




Happy May Day! I remember making paper cones of flowers for my mother on May Day when I was in elementary school. Did you do that?

The Liar Tweets Tonight

Do you wonder if this virus is going to change the way we think about things, here and around the world? I think about that a lot and some days optimism rises but most days I think we're a lot of idiots who never learn from our mistakes. I know it's a small amount of people protesting at state houses but they exemplify the worst of us. My head is exploding with all the virus news, the way people are reacting, everything COVID, day in and day out. I'm burnt out. I don't watch the news every day, but of course when watching the late night shows, there it is, exposed in all its ridiculousness.


So, here's a lighthearted yet serious bit of entertainment for you, friends. Enjoy.

Weary Times

I first heard the Woody Guthrie song "Hobo's Lullaby" when the Kingston Trio covered it in the 1960s. I loved it, and when I began to play guitar at 12, it was on my list of songs to learn. I was drawn to the songs about injustice even at that age. I lived a life of plenty, and when it dawned on me that not everyone was so fortunate, my outrage was front and center. As we move through this pandemic, my outrage continues as I see the lack of access to good medical care, and the number of newly unemployed who have lost their health insurance. I fear we are headed into a very dark time, not seen since the Great Depression.

In addition to being a protest song, this song speaks to me of tenderness and kindness toward those most in peril during these hard times.

Music Friday with Alicia Keys

A song for our times. How you doing out there?



On a completely different note, Fran Lebowitz is wickedly smart and wildly funny. Here is part of an interview with her. "Medicare for All—which used to be called socialized medicine—is something that, of course, can be done. They have it all over Europe. Can it be done quickly in this country? No. But it’s an absurd idea that hospitals should be businesses. People say, “If you love your health insurance”—who is that? Who loves their health insurance? No one really wants health insurance. People want health care. It’s, like, no one wants car insurance. They want a car."

I've been thinking about this during the pandemic. So many have lost their jobs, and for most Americans, the ability to access health care is through their jobs where they pay for employer based health insurance. Now, not only have they lost their jobs, they've lost their insurance. I've always been so grateful for my employer based insurance, which carried over into my retirement. I've also been skeptical that in this country we could bust up the health insurance industry and embark on socialized medicine. I wonder if the nation will change it's collective mind now that people have lost their insurance as they lose their jobs. This seems an insanity to me. We could do it, if we had the will. Would it be a difficult task? Of course. Those who profit off the insurance and medical industries will fight it to their last breath. But one of the biggest errors that is being exposed by this pandemic is the lack of health care for all. I want this to begin a serious national conversation about the issue. Would Joe carry the torch? Be well. Stay safe. Hang in there.

Music Fridays

There's a bit of chat at the beginning, but James brings me some comfort with his words. And then the music...brilliant!

And I Dreamed I was Flying

Remember these two young pups? So long ago! Paul looks particularly handsome here, me thinks. Anyway, these videos from their concert in Central Park are wonderful in every way. Enjoy.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

These high school kids' concert was cancelled due to COVID-19. So here's what they did. Simply beautiful. Bringing joy and magic to us all.

Music for our Planet

The Philadelphia Orchestra has shuttered its doors in the face of the COVID-19 pandemic. Lead by Conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin, their final performance was livestreamed for more than half a million viewers at home. He spoke with Terry Gross, on Fresh Air radio program, about the unusual performance and how music comforts us in troubling times. I was struck by this man's eloquent words, that often times moved the show's host profoundly.

I was driving around Fort Collins in the snow, (yes, snow on the first day of spring!)  listening to the interview.  I had to get out of the house - first time in two weeks - and tour around town.  There was still car traffic out, but not many people walking on the streets, and most everything was closed tight.  Our food Co-op, tiny as it is, was open, but I dare not go in. Opened in 1972 (as so many co-ops were) it occupies a small building in the heart of the old town.  When this craziness has passed, I'll go back and do a little shopping.

By the way, NBC news had a piece on how you should handle, literally handle, food brought to you by restaurants.  Many people are supporting their favorite eateries by ordering take-out or delivery.  Key: get the food out of the packaging, discard packaging (preferably in your outside trash can) and then wash your hands thoroughly before eating your food.  They also recommended microwaving the food before eating it.

And, now, on to the performance.  This piece deserves attention and time, so if you don't have those two things now, come back when you do.  You will be most glad.  It's beautiful and uplifting, and I certainly needed to hear it for the joy it brought to me.  Be well, my friends.

There is an introduction and a commissioned piece of music, which is timely as it turns out, then Beethoven's 5th & 6th symphony.

It Takes A Worried Man

I've been listening to the Kingston Trio since I was a tot. They were favorites of my parents, along with the Yarbirds, and Peter, Paul and Mary. I know so many of the KT songs by heart and many of them were what I first learned to play on the guitar. Some years ago I was lucky enough to see them in concert, and the guitarists strings broke and he quickly changed them during a break. I was next to the stage and asked if I could have those strings, and he put them in their paper packaging and handed them to me. I have no idea whatever became of them. I also recently read that Bob Shane, the last surviving member of the original Kingston Trio, died on January 26, 2020 due to complications from pneumonia. He was 85 years old.

Leonard Cohen

I am a devotee of Mr. Cohen, God rest his soul. Years ago I watched the documentary "I'm Your Man" about his life and work. Plenty of fantastic performances in there by various artists. This first video of Antony Hegarty singing "If it be Your Will" is one of my favorites. I'd never heard of Antony before. And now she is known as Anohni. I don't know her background and when she transitioned to female, but I find it just adds to my admiration of her talent.


The next video is one that always, always makes me cry. It is a powerful protest song, and the words just knock me out. "I can no longer run with that lawless crowd, while the killers in high places say their prayers out loud." Perla Batalla and Julie Christensen do a bang up job. They used to be back up singers for Leonard. I've been lucky enough to attend two concerts of Perla's, and to meet and speak with her. She's a jewel. By the way, she's the one dressed in white.

Choral and Crickets

I attended a lovely choral concert last weekend. The Ars Nova Singers are based in Boulder, Colorado, and sing all over the United States. I wish there were a video of the concert we heard, as it was magical, divine and deeply moving. It was Music of the Renaissance: The Earthquake Mass. It was performed inside a church with exquisite acoustics, and when I closed my eyes I envisioned the night sky filled with stars and celestial bodies. It was a peaceful and inspiring concert.



I loved it so much, as did my friend. As we were warming up the car, she played some music for me. I adored it. She told me what it was. See if you can guess.



Enjoy your weekend!

Who Knows Where the Time Goes?

I was recently reminded that this time, ten years ago, my wife Nicole and I were moving into a enormous rental house in Aptos California. It was up a long road to the top of a hill, and our back gate let us out into the forested Nicene Marks Park (this was the epicenter of the 1989 Loma Prieta quake). It was a five bedroom, two and a half bath home, which was much too big for our needs, but the price was right and the owner was not only allowing all three of our dogs to move in, she adored the fact that we had this creatures (plus a cat). The yard was large as well, and I indulged my love of gardening to build upon the great flower beds and raised vegetable beds. We hosted my daughter's wedding party for a Mexican Fiesta the night before the wedding. The yard was decked out in paper cut outs, brightly colored as only the Mexicans can do. I hired a taco truck which was able to pull into the yard through a large gate made specifically for letting in cars and or large equipment. It's how I also got my hot tub in there.

I had no earthly idea that eighteen months into renting this home we would part ways and I would move out. The divorce took years after that, as we were hoping we'd reunite. So, in keeping with Music Fridays, thank you Robin, I wondered what music I was listening to ten years ago. I had latched on to Patty Larkin, and was lucky enough to see her in concert at the relatively tiny Kuumbwa Jazz Center in Santa Cruz. This song, "Me and that Train" grabbed me, and it's still one of my favorites.



Four years and a divorce later, I had been in Sacramento for about three years. I moved there to get out of town and to help my parents move from their San Diego home of 40 years, north to Sacramento to be closer to one of my sisters. I managed to co-habitate with mater and pater, lovers of Fox News (and I use that term lightly and mockingly) for two years. I was there to help my dad with the day-to-day care of my mother who has Parkinson's. The only problem with that is that Dad is a control freak and nobody does anything better than he can. My efforts were not appreciated, and the old paradigm of father and child played out, with me being the 53 year old child. That didn't go over well with me, needless to say. We had 'words' and often times I would leave the house to take very long walks through Sacramento streets, often finding my way to the lush Capital Park which also serves as an arboretum of sorts, with very old trees carefully tagged with their names and dates. It also boasts a large and beautifully fragrant rose garden. My dad is allergic to roses. Oddly enough, they are one of my favorite flowers.

I dated a couple of women, getting back into the swing after eleven years being with Nickie. It was a heady time, and though I was coping with the painful aftermath of a contentious divorce, I was moving on, making friends, and discovering college courses at our local Sac State. I took a couple of classes (Ted Talks and a Rock and Roll History class) before I signed up for a photography course.

Lo and behold, that's where I met my future husband. In addition to our mutual love of photography, we both enjoyed music as well. He was a great lover of classical, and spent many years going to concert halls and hearing the greats in Philadelphia, Cleveland and Phoenix. His knowledge was encyclopedic and his classical and jazz music collection was vast. So vast, that I had to pry the bulk of it away from him when we bought our home together. It was boxed up and took up one entire space in his three car garage. He had it all downloaded, but had insisted on keeping the compact discs. He probably had thousands of dollars invested in cds. We donated many to the local public radio station and they were thrilled to get them. We also sold twelve boxes to a music dealer in San Francisco who drove up with his wife in their van, and took it all away at a bargain price.

My musical contribution to our union was a solid knowledge of popular music and folk music, which he had mostly missed out on. (He also missed out on many, many fine movies -- being a medical student and then a doctor didn't leave a lot of free time, and he chose to spend it listening to symphony orchestras.) We had six years together before he died last month, and those years went by in a blink of an eye. The time with him almost seems like a dream to me now.

The next song is one that would bring him to tears of exaltation. He sometimes would play this video multiple times a day. We both loved it, as it is powerful and the crowd shots are marvelous. Everyone was getting in to the music -- it was a religious experience!



Happy Friday to you all, and have a great weekend if at all possible. Make it happen.

Gleeful Music by Bob

Well, here's an artist I've never heard of, but my Blogging friend, Bev, who lives in Nova Scotia, posted about him on Facebook. He was born in Toronto and bought land in Nova Scotia when he was in his mid-twenties, and really lives simply on that land. Like, no electricity! A very small cabin. He loves it. This delightful song is very clever and I laughed a lot listening to it. Hope you like it, too.
Have a great weekend!

Sign of the Times

There's a guy who stands on a street corner near my house. It's a busy intersection, one where I take a right turn whenever coming home from downtown. He's there come snow or shine, and he dances holding a sign advertising I don't know what. Perhaps you have seen these guys, too. I've never seen a female out there doing this. A guy thing. I got curious and did a little research: they are called, get this, "Human Directionals!" Businesses love them and think they are a very cost effective way to advertise. I personally think they are a distraction for drivers, and I can't tell what they are advertising because they are, well, spinning those signs super fast. The other term for this Human Directional is 'spinners.' Towns are trying to regulate them, to keep them from both blocking pedestrian traffic and from spilling out into the road. I find them annoying and I'm really not sure how much business they bring in for their employers. I do admit, however, there is a skill and an art to what they do.



Can you tell me what in the world this sign is advertising? Sign spinning has become such a thing that there are championships where spinners compete. Who knew?

What a week we've had, eh? While all the political turmoil was raging, I at least was taking care of my business: new driver's license for my new state, new vehicle registration (difference office, wouldn't you know), driving to Loveland to get fitted for a new CPAP mask, mailing back my old iPhone since I purchased a new one, and faxing the County of Yolo for my husband's certificate of death. Feels pretty damn productive to me. All while the snow was falling in big fat flakes and we had -3 temps the other night. I'm becoming acclimated, I tell you.

But really, the state of the world and the politics of the U.S. has got me concerned. Will my grandchildren have a healthy planet and political climate when they become adults? I shudder to think. I despair. I've seen some pretty awful stuff this week, like the video of the woman in Iowa who is shocked to discover that Pete Buttigieg is gay and is asking if she can have her ballot back. "Can't have a man like that in office." she says. Does she get her ballot back? Hell no. The caucus worker is very calm with her, which is the best way to handle this kind of bigot. The bigot starts paraphrasing the Bible, all wrong of course. But the highlight of the political week for me was when Speaker Pelosi rips Trump's State of the Union speech at the end of his chest thumping, lying, oration. You GO, Nancy! Of course she's being criticized by the GOP, the same GOP who knowingly voted to acquit our Liar in Chief. They dishonor the constitution and their oath of office, and they want to complain about Nancy's behavior?! Puh-leasssse.

This song is pretty bleak, and that's how a lot of people are feeling right now. When will we ever learn? I've spent the week listening to the good old protest songs of the 1960s. Give it a try -- it uplifted me, particularly Dylan's The Times They Are a Changin' and Trini Lopez's If I had a Hammer, sung by Peter, Paul and Mary. I hope if you are full of despair, that you will come out of it and join those of us who can still muster up some hope that we can vote the Cheeto Bastard (and the GOP senate) out of office this November. Or at the very least, play some good old and new protest songs, like Green Day's American Idiot. That's an excellent one.

He's Still Gone. He Always Will Be.

I continue to find it difficult to believe Steve is gone.  I am processing it all, looking back at photographs and emails, remembering the good times. Yesterday I pulled a book off the shelf.  It was a book of photos that Steve made for me -- mostly pictures of me that he had taken over the years.  He inscribed it "To my precious Tara."  Well, that broke me in two.  I'm crying now just writing about it.

I began to grieve for the loss of Steve way back in June when he asked me to leave.  His request was the greatest shock -- I asked him repeatedly, "Do you want to die alone?"  His answer was always "yes."  I think his pride would not allow the thought that I would see him in such a reduced state.  I have read that it is not uncommon for the ill spouse to push the other spouse away, even asking them to leave.  I find this surprising, only because I cannot imagine doing that if the situation were reversed.  From what I've read, the ill person is trying to spare their loved ones from the inevitable.  I know Steve, in his way, was trying to protect me.

After all is said and done, I've had four months of setting up a new life in a new town and state.  This gave me a head start on experiencing living alone and without the man I loved.  When I returned for his last week, and saw him and sat with him, we were able to speak words of love and forgiveness.  I am truly grateful for the time I had with him then.  In the end, he did not want to die alone, and he didn't.  As much as he tried to push love away, his family, many friends, and his wife were there for him.   I'd say the stubborn old bastard was lucky indeed.

We all did our very best to help him in the end.  We all carried him through.  Something I said often in his last days was, "It's okay Steve.  We've got ya.  We've got ya."  It calmed him when he was agitated.

We all surrounded him with the very best we could give.  I believe it allowed him to let go.

And so, I continue on.  I live life in a state of hyper awareness, where mundane things take on great import.  I've recently heard of the music artist Billie Eilish, and I particularly like her song "Ocean Eyes."  Steve had ocean eyes - a bright blue that dazzled.  And, like the song, a "diamond mind."  A brilliant mind until Parkinson's had its way.

Anyway, I find this song very moving.  I hope you do as well.

Music Is Life

Music is one of the first senses we humans respond to.  Tiny toddlers dance, clap and sing to the music before they can even talk or walk.  Music is also the last sense to leave us when we are dying.

In the last few days of Steve's life, his daughter Rachelle got his iPhone working again and set  up a giant playlist of all the classical music he had on his iTunes.  Though fading in and out of consciousness, Steve would raise a hand and conduct the orchestra, as was his way all his life.  Sometimes he could get quite animated!  I thought he may have missed his calling.

We both love the music of Erik Satie, and I added it to the playlist.  It was exquisitely beautiful and heartbreaking to listen to.  His music was used on the soundtrack to the fabulous documentary, Man on Wire.  If you haven't seen it, you must.


Satie was an influential artist in the late 19th- and early 20th-century Parisian avant-garde. His work was a precursor to later artistic movements such as minimalism, repetitive music, and the Theatre of the Absurd. Steve would cry listening to this music. The full album of songs is called Gymnopedies and the music was first heard in 1887 in Paris. Steve's love affair with Paris was life-long, and he passed that passion on to me. He was exceptionally knowledgeable about classical music and perhaps his love of it was second only to his love of photography. But the music came first. Frequently going to live performances of the Cleveland Orchestra when he was younger. Check out Satie if you don't know his work. I think it's brilliant, and certainly very moving.

TGIF

I saw, finally, the movie "The Sound of My Voice." Linda was a favorite of mine in high school - years 1972 - 75. I wore down the grooves on her "Heart Like a Wheel" album. The movie is a powerful portrait of her life and career. She grew up in a musical family and the making of music was just a part of family life. No wonder she was a natural, and ready when she moved to Los Angeles to start her big career in earnest, after starting small with her sister and brother in Tuscon, AZ. "It Doesn't Matter Anymore" was on the regular playlist with my little trio, albeit uptempo unlike this version. I like the slow version, but the two fellas I was playing with preferred something faster. It really took my breath away -- literally. Practice, practice. So, anyway, back to the movie. So many wonderful songs, and great artists: Emmy Lou Harris, Dolly Parton, the Eagles, Jackson Browne, Bonnie Raitte. If you go to Youtube you can see the special upon her induction to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Not to be missed. Have a lovely weekend!