Back To The Egg

Learning the Ropes

2020-09-16T21:07:00.000-07:00

I'm dipping a tentative toe into the blog world with these first few words. I have not always tagged behind people, so this is really rather different for me. However, it's only one part not having the know-how & equal parts wondering if I have anything to say that might be of interest to anyone else besides myself. But then, I guess that really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things because primarily, I'm doing this for one person anyway, & that's myself. If I can help anyone along the way, that's a bonus. As I peek in & read other blogs I see it all comes down to that end anyway, so here goes! It's cheaper than going into therapy & we really want to stay away from those drugs now, right? Or hey! Worse..."natural supplements". They aren't even regulated. Ephedrine...or Ephedra is a supplement & not considered a drug.

As I ponder & contemplate the things that have occurred to me the last five years, I realized I needed a place that I could lay it all out to examine & analyze it's nuances. So many times when something medically immense has taken place in a person's life, we don't know how to deal with it. Because it's brand new & because it's not usually something we get the chance to practice on, we so often flounder & get it wrong. We are also 'directed' on how to deal with it by others who have no clue how to deal with it themselves, yet feel that they are because they have that medical degree & are armed with all kinds of text books & journals.
Or because they love you, they feel they're expert advisers for you. Right up front I have to say, until you've worn the moccasins, (as the saying goes) stick to suggesting, but don't try to tell me how I feel - or should feel. I already know that. And it's not even close to the way you might imagine.

Five years ago I had an aneurysm. It ruptured. And it was heavy duty! Pre to that, I had been an extremely active person; I ran daily, biked & hiked weekends, climbed mountains twice a year...or as often as I could get to them.

I ate healthy & stayed fit in my own complete home gym. I didn't smoke & rarely drank but for special occasions such as weddings or the holidays. There never seemed to be enough time in my days for the things I wanted to do, but I crammed as much as possible into every 24 hours & loved it that way!
My life was generally full & not complicated with health issues of any kind.

Then May 29th 2001 arrived. I found I wasn't as energetic as I wanted to be in prepping for a busy Memorial weekend. I needed something to keep me going without lagging. I knew with all the things we had planned, that I needed an energy boost. So I bought some Metabolife to balance my metabolism. Yessirree! I was going to get it done. Much the same way Steve Bechler must have felt that day in 2003 as he was getting ready to pitch his game for the Baltimore Orioles. Steve was the 23 year old pitcher who wanted to combat fatigue & decided to try Metabolife to revitalize himself. But like Steve, that wasn't in my future either.

I say "like" Steve, but not quite because Steve died.

At that time, Metabolife contained the Big E. For those who still haven't heard about this wonder herb, that's Ephedrine. The herb that people are trying to get put back on store shelves because they want to 'look good'. Gambling with their own lives for vanity. Russian Roulette for the buff body. All of which could be viewed very prettily laid out in a casket.

I took my first little pill in the morning of that first day, another in the afternoon & pill three before bed. I was feeling pretty good about all this; I was doing something healthy for myself & doing it "naturally" & not paying out money for prescription drugs.
So! In the morning, I took my fourth pill & went outside to do a little gardening. That was the last thing I remember until I 'woke up' in hospital seven weeks later totally paralyzed on the left side. My good fortune & what probably saved my life was that I had two doctors living right next door to me & they were tending their garden as well, when I hit the ground. They made an immediate evaluation & had me medi-vaced to the hospital downtown in eight minutes.

That was to be the first day of my second life. The one where you find out you're incredibly more resilient than you ever thought possible; the one where you find out through sheer determination that you can amaze yourself as well as the medical world. The one where, if you look at things as a challenge instead of a disability, they are surmountable. And the one where you find out who your friends are & sadder, just how very weak your family structure is. Those people who 'love you' were all of a sudden way too busy to call or lend a hand. The ones who will 'try to get around' or if they find the time, they will pick up that item you're needing but can't get yourself. Have they always been that self-involved or have you just been too self-involved yourself to notice? New life; new questions.

Counter that however, with those you never noticed in your life before. They come forward & quietly sustain you as you plod along in your new life. Supportive, helpful, not just given to lip service as surprisingly, family members only seem to manage. These quiet friends are there to bring you out of the hospital for the day & take you for long drives & to a wheelchair-friendly restaurant for lunch. They run the little errands for you that your loved ones are (sic) too busy to run & they sit & listen as you try to figure out what happened in your life literally overnight.

I am learning so many valuable lessons in my second life. Some I wish I hadn't ever needed to learn; others I am eternally grateful for learning. As Maya Angelou so eloquently stated:
"Courage allows the successful woman to fail & learn powerful lessons from the failure...so that in the end, she really hasn't failed at all!"

At any rate...bear with me here...I'm still learning. Now there's this blog thing! ~*wink*~

Republican Hypocrisy and other Religious fervor

2011-10-21T14:59:00.000-07:00

I have been watching with increased interest, not to mention amazement at the new case brought against Mitt Romney these last few weeks regarding his faith. OMG, he's not even a Christian! (??) Really?

First off, that has to do with what, exactly? Not that I'm in agreement with that statement but merely asking, by a Christians standards what does it matter? Where in the Constitution does it say a politician has to be a Christian? Actually, lest we forget, it says the opposite, but I'll get to that in a moment. Suffice to say that the understanding of the First Amendment essentially says that the government could not support any one church organization.

Yes, the bible was regularly used as a textbook in public schools. And presidents used bible quotes to justify and explain their policies or to bless the country and the people in times of great strive. All presidents did this, not just those who were ardent Christians, like Washington and Adams. Even those presidents like Jefferson and Lincoln, who would certainly not be part of the "religious right" if they were alive today. They did this, not because it was a part of our government and a law of the land, but because it was what they knew many needed to hear.

Mark Twain once said, “If Jesus were alive today, the last thing he’d be is a Christian!” I have to agree. From everything I've seen of Christianity Republican style it would make Jesus weep!

If you at all defined religion or Christianity by the words and actions of Republicans and their base these days, then Twain had it right. Republican’s policy toward children, the poor, the homeless, the needy and the aged runs counter to anything and everything that Jesus taught.

Nor can I find any passage in the bible which says: “Oh all ye faithful: The poor shall sacrifice everything so that the rich may retain their wealth forever more.”

It was Jesus who said, “as you do to the least of these, you do unto me.” What the Republicans say is, "Hey, they need to get a job." Or 'let them die on a gurney if they don't have health insurance.' And for God's sake, don't ask me to look after my brother…I'm not sharing *anything* I have! It's mine. I earned it!"

Why, they'll even cheer the mounting numbers of people put to death by one candidate because Jesus didn't say anything about loving thy brother as thyself and leaving punishment to powers bigger than ourselves, did he? It would appear in this instance anyway that it depends greatly too, on what kind of Christian you are…is this like cults then? I suppose that's a bad joke, but no different than the remark coming from Pastor Robert Jeffress of the First Baptist Dallas megachurch, proclaiming Mormonism a cult!

At any rate, back to execution & rauncheous applause from execution loving folk…'Yeah! Kill the bastard!' Interesting that the three largest Christian denominations in the United States are split on the issue of capital punishment so I guess it depended who was in that audience. The Roman Catholic Church opposes it in virtually all cases; the Southern Baptist Convention approves of it in certain cases; the United Methodist Church opposes it in all cases. Sure glad I'm not a Christian - it's all so very confusing.

But the bigger issue here, is the politicizing of every damn issue imaginable and the tendency from the extreme right to force religion down everyone’s throat, believers and atheists alike. Political orientation is not defined by one’s spirituality. There are atheists who call themselves conservative as well as liberals who are devoutly religious. A mental, thinking persons separation between church and state. If one can make any kind of broad generalization regarding politicians & religion, it is to be made in how they express their beliefs.

Liberals feel no need whatsoever to interject their religious beliefs onto people. Conservative politicians, on the other hand, see religion as a tool to be used as a means for political gain and they work that baby from dawn to dusk. It is precisely this politics of fear that has them, for example, demonizing Muslims and now, in more recent days, the Mormon faith and Mr. Romney. The underlying thinking being, ‘if they’re not one of us (i.e. Christian), they’re against us.”

So how do we decide whether a belief is religious or secular? Hinduism teaches that it is wrong to harm animals. Does this mean that any laws against cruelty to animals are illegitimate? We'd certainly be in trouble with our maker with all those operating slaughter houses. The American Indian religions all involve great respect for nature, and that the Indians took care of their surroundings, the animals within those surroundings and care of the natural environment at large. They may have been different clans and tribes but at least they are all on the same page with this one. So looking at it from a Native Americans point of view does this mean that any laws against environmental pollution are illegitimate?

This brings me back to the beginning and how important it is to keep the division of church and state separate - to show how impossible it is to govern correctly and precisely if you allow religious beliefs to intervene in decision making. Nowhere does our Constitution say that a government official may not have any given set of religious beliefs. On the other hand, it does clearly say, "no Religious Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or public Trust under the United States." (Article 6, Clause 3). Yes, I looked it up and so can the politicians and voters if they really cared.

To declare that a candidate is unfit for public office because he holds certain religious beliefs is a violation of the plain words of the Constitution. And for those candidates and voters alike who love to quote the bible and the Constitution, please do us all a favor - learn them first, and only then let your brain engage your mouth and speak.

Jackson Browne at Sovereign Performing Arts Center, Reading PA

2011-10-17T14:23:00.000-07:00

It seems just amazing to me to be saying we've just been to our eleventh Jackson Browne concert on Tuesday, October 11th, 2011, but that is exactly what we've done. Even funnier was that until we were driving home from this concert we didn't realize it was number eleven. We thought we were attending number ten! But as we chatted and talked about each of the concerts in the past, it became evident that we'd left one out.

I'm not sure where it fell in the list of concerts...probably around mid way, we attended two concerts back to back in Binghamton NY and in the confusion of that, with same sets and same venue, we just missed counting them as two. However...this was number eleven and it was as enjoyable as numbers one, two, three, four, etc, a la!

I would like to say I had wonderful pictures and great listenable video from this concert but alas I don't. They would not allow cameras or recorders in the theater and I thought for awhile I would be okay - I had my trusty Blackberry Torch with me & could still get pictures and video with it. Well, for the first time since I bought it, the Torch let me down. Not only didn't it video any more that 3-5 seconds of video at a time, but even the camera nose dived. It refused to zoom and then my screen froze. So...the entire concert is residing in my mind alone.

It was a beautiful night to be going anywhere and the theater was just as spectacular. Incredible inlays on floors and ceiling everywhere, with a grand marble staircase and stained glass everywhere.

The building was built in the early 1870's and it appears to have been well taken care of but for a few pieces of stained glass missing here and there.

Acoustics were fine and there really wasn't a point that you couldn't see the stage perfectly. We were center and back about midway up the theater. I only wish I could have gotten one good photo of Jackson because he was in fine form - very talkative and sharing funny stories for each song and cute antidotes throughout the evening. He has always had a remarkable rapport with his audiences.

He didn't have many new songs to share with us but seemed happy to do most of his hits for the audience. He didn't even have a set list but asked the audience to call up what they'd like to hear. It doesn't get much better than that.

There was one thing that was a bit worrisome to me at least and that was that his voice cracked on him often. He assured everyone that he wasn't ill but that he'd had a pork chop with mushroom gravy for supper and there was a mushroom hanging on his tonsils. While it was a very cute story, it wasn't all that reassuring to me, but my husband told me not to be such a worry wart so I'll try not to be.

He played one long set, took a fifteen minute break and then played a much longer second set, working his way through all of his eighteen guitars he had on stage with him, plus his piano. And then of course a three song encore. The entire evening was magical, as it always is with Jackson. I hope I live long enough to see another nine concerts, providing he continues to do them.

And last but not least, What would have been a wonderful photo if my camera was able to zoom. Jackson sitting on a single chair and playing Take It Easy. Thank you Jackson, for all the pleasure, all the music and all the incredible memories you've given me over my lifetime. I'm shooting for concert twenty but right now I'd be happy to see concert twelve for a full dozen!!

The Avett Brothers live...

2011-09-23T12:50:00.000-07:00

Pictured are Bob Crawford, Scott Avett and Seth Avett

Looking at my blog title for this review, I'm thinking perhaps a better line should be the Avett Brothers lively because lively they are! Almost electric. But I will leave it as it is...for now.

Seth Avett
We had the great pleasure of seeing the group in Reading this past Wednesday night, September 21, 2011. As we stood in the rain waiting for the Sovereign Center to open it's doors, we questioned if this drenching was all going to be worth it. Others standing under umbrellas assured us that we would not regret getting a little wet.

Leaving the Center at the end of the evening we admitted that, if given the chance to see them again, we would not only stand through torrential rains, but possibly hail, blizzards, flash floods or tornado force winds as well! Yes, they were that worth it!

But first let me qualify myself. I have seen so many performers over the course of my life, big names as well as not so big. Artists with names like Eric Clapton, Paul McCartney, Aerosmith, Jackson Browne, Joe Cocker, Billy Joel, Bonnie Raitt, the Eagles, Styx, Journey, Maroon5, Jeff Healey, Keb Mo, Steve Forbert, Buffy Sainte Marie, Matchbox Twenty, just to name a very few. But with all of that, I have never seen any who had as much love for what they were doing as the Avett brothers did on Wednesday night!

The energy they have is palpable! And they were having so much fun, it just flowed out across the audience and the entire arena, floor and seats were undulating like giant ocean waves. That is when they weren't bouncing to match the pace of everyone on stage!
It was also remarkable to hear the audience all singing alone...to every song!

Scott Avett
The brothers, Scott and Seth are originally from Concord, North Carolina and while they tried their hand at other things, when they realized they weren't having any fun at what they were doing,they quickly settled into this delightfully humble threesome by adding stand up bassist Bob Crawford to their ranks.

It is hard to pigeon hole them into a genre...Americana suits them best, but I've heard country fans will come away with a feeling of satisfaction after seeing them as well, and folk lovers will also be happy with what they bring to the stage. Multi-instrumentalists, they are adept at everything they pick up, be it guitar, banjo, seated at a piano or in the case of Scott, wielding a paintbrush. Aside from making great music, Scott is living out the philosophy given in one of their songs as well. - "Decide what to be and go be it.”. He is equally as talented with a palette and brush as he is with fingers on strings and harmonies

Our evening opened with guest artist Nicole Atkins. Nicole, a longtime friend and past performer with the brothers, did a selection of her more known songs Neptune City and Brooklyn’s on Fire were there. But she got her biggest round of applause when she did a traditional American folk song which dates back to at least the 1870s currently called, "Where Did You Sleep Last Night?" The song has been covered by many over the decades and Nicole chose to do it in the fashion of Nirvana's Kurt Cobain.

Then -

Set list: not necessarily in this order -
Laundry Room
And It Spread
Tin Man
Colorshow
November Blue
Salina
Paranoia
Go To Sleep
The Fall
Slight Figure of Speech
Once and Future Carpenter
Head Full of Doubt
Backwards With Time
When I Drink
Ten Thousand Words
Kick Drum Heart
Never Been Alive (unreleased but played in concert)
Blue Ridge Mountain Blues(doc Watson)
January Wedding
Will You Return

encore:
Talk on Indolence
I and Love and You

I'd say that if you only had five concerts you could see in your lifetime, then pick your favorite four bands, but definitely make the fifth one an Avett Brothers concert! Their shows are unmatched for their energy and intensity, and the music is absolutely amazing. They sound great, and they are a lot of fun to watch. What more do you want for your ticket price?

The Low Anthem...

2011-09-17T08:25:00.000-07:00

Well, here we go with another rash of concerts for fall. I guess the word rash seems as though it's an uncomfortable thing but believe me, nothing is further from the truth. Music is my life and being able to see live music performed by favorite people is a kiss to the heart.

The Low Anthem, consisting of multi-instrumentalists Ben Miller, Jeff Prystowsky, Jocie Adams and sometimes Mat Davidson have been a favorite of mine ever since discovering them on cd Baby's website a few years ago. I bought the first album and quickly snapped up the others as they were released. With any album, there are favorite songs but with this group, I find it hard to actually choose. People have asked me and I can usually only narrow it down to five or six after a lot of hemming and hawing.

They are a unique and extremely talented trio [sometimes quartet] who between them all play 34 instruments. Almost all vintage or antique. It has been said that they have in their possession, more antique instruments than the museum in Providence Rhode Island where they hail from.
And each of them is able to play almost all of the 34! I got to see this first hand last Wednesday night, Sept 14 when we attended their concert at the World Cafe LIVE in Philly.

The evening opened with guest artist William Elliot Whitmore, a singer/songwriter I'd never heard of before. But he didn't disappoint and was the perfect choice to open for a band like The Low Anthem. William played banjo, guitar and bass drum. Yes, you read that right - bass drum! It had a wonderful effect with what he did and we enjoyed him a lot!

Then with virtually no real break at all, Low Anthem entered the stage. They began their program by announcing they would do the songs in chronological order which got a laugh from the audience but really ended up working well for those recording their favorite songs.

I could fill this post with video I took of the evening but I think it would be better if you went to see them yourself if they come to your corner of the world. Philly was the first concert of the tour and they will work themselves cross country to California before going on hiatus to work on new things at home in Rhode Island. You will not be disappointed and since this tour will be their last, you won't get another chance if you pass on this one.

To Ben, Jeff, Jocie & Mat, plus past member Dan Lefkowitz, - thank you for three incredible albums that filled so many of my days, plus an evening I will never forget.

Buffy Sainte-Marie - Philly World Café LIVE

2011-08-01T15:15:00.000-07:00

May 16th, 2011 - World Cafe LIVE, Philadelphia PA

My heartfelt apologies to this great lady for doing my review of her wonderful concert and then forgetting it in draft, where it has been sitting for two and a half months. How I never noticed it wasn't a part of my blog only goes to show how my head is in other places these days and maybe one day soon I will share that too. But this is neither the time nor the place for less than celebratory things.

We got to see Buffy the evening of May 16th, 2011. When I think back of all the years I have followed her and yet never got a chance to see her, how sweet it was that this just sort of fell into our laps. Maybe on a trip to visit family in Canada, but Philadelphia? I happened to overhear a conversation between two others and checked to see what they were talking about - Buffy was coming to Philly. Got tickets!!

I have been a fan of Buffy's for as long as I can remember. I worried a little going to see her now, whether I should have seen her in her prime. Well, let me tell you something right up front - Buffy doesn't know she's NOT in her prime! She may be 70 years old but this beautiful woman hasn't missed a beat! She entered the stage in snug jeans, bare midriff & fit body. Her voice clear and as sweet as always and her stage presence could put a lot of twenty year old entertainers to shame. A ball of energy who didn't lag in the almost three hours she was on.

Buffy's lyrics and melodies have not lost any their magic and the magic washed over the stage and the audience alike. If anyone has to ask…oh yes! Buffy still knows how to rock!

It never ceases to amaze me how she effortlessly moved across musical genres too. It was all showcased on that night; rock, country, rockabilly, folk, and powwow infused music, long a favorite of mine, as well as the more mainstream, beautiful, classic ballads "Until It's Time For You To Go" and the Oscar-winning "Up Where We Belong." Thus, the audience was given a wonderful snapshot of the huge amount of music this incredibly creative woman has given to us over the course of her career.

Older songs like Little Wheel Spin and Spin and Cod'ine were reinvented for the show to great effect. But Buffy also knew when to pull back and just allow the original power of a classic like Universal Soldier to shine: the mark of true showmanship - as well as being indicative of her instincts as a great lyricist. Buffy knows that there is power in simplicity; conveying complex ideas in the most direct, uncluttered way possible.

And Buffy's band - not enough can be said about them either. They were absolutely brilliant and matched her energy and intensity throughout the evening. They lived the music and loved the music and it was so very obvious. The powerful drumbeats drove the music forward - I could have sworn I was at a powwow listening to a heartbeat drum; it made me want to dance as I always did when in attendance. From my perspective, at least, I'd say the audience just couldn't get enough of those Native American inspired songs!

Favorite moment: When Buffy sang my favorite song, Starwalker and when her drummer got up and did a Fancy Dance while Buffy and the other band members cheering him on.

Setlist for the evening: Piney Wood Hills, No No Keshagesh, Cho Cho Fire, Cripple Creek, I'm Gonna Be A Country Girl Again, Blue Sunday, Little Wheel Spin and Spin, Universal Soldier, Until It's Time For You To Go, Up Where We Belong, Soldier Blue, Cod'ine, Darling Don't Cry, Priests of the Golden Bull, Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, Starwalker, He's An Indian Cowboy in the Rodeo

I'm not sure when she will grace us with her presence again here in Philly, but one thing's for sure - I'll be the first in line at the ticket booth.

Bailey

2011-07-21T19:25:00.000-07:00

~ Bailey born October 11, 1998 Passed away Wednesday July 20, 2011 ~

I was going to begin this last night, but between the pain I was feeling and the loss of what I wanted to title it, I am beginning it a day late.

It's a funny thing how we always look for just the right title or banner when we want to post something new. Something of special importance. Yet, the most important thing of this post is Bailey, so that is simply what I've chosen to call this. It is fitting and I'm sure he would approve.

We acquired Bailey from a lady by the name of Nancy. She was a rescuer who would go to the local shelters every day and look at the times remaining on the animals cages. With the aid of her husband, she built a small barn & run for her rescued kitties and at her own expense, looked after them and tried to find homes for them. She did this with a lot of success as well.
We were looking for a play companion for our Jakey at home so went to see Nancy and brought Bailey home. Ironically, Jakey just passed away a few months back - Feb. 12, 2011. A double loss which is leaving me more than a little bit dazed.

Bailey was a unique puss. Small and determined, hard on walls and furniture and oh yes, on Jakey at times too. Due to his diminutive stature, I think he felt he had something to prove, and he picked the biggest boy in the house to make that point. A Napoleon Complex of sorts. It caused me a lot of concern over the years we had him, but if I could trade any of this sadness right now to get him back, ornery and all, I would do that in a heartbeat.

We knew something was amiss a couple of months ago when we found a mess on the carpet in the dining room. Since we have three other cats in the house, Trey, Darius and Milo, the last kitty we thought could have ever caused this mess though, was Bailey. Bailey was the fastidious one. Bailey was the one who would go back and make sure everyone else's stuff was covered up in the litter box. His nickname...Mr. Clean.

But we couldn't imagine the others doing this either, so after a lot of trial and error, we did finally face the fact that it was indeed Bailey. And by this time he had gotten so much worse.

We took him to our vet yesterday and learned that he had also lost a pound in a very short time, his heartbeat was rapid and he had what she called a mammoth murmur. All this on top of the creeping senility which was making him forget where things were - and worse, starting to fear inanimate objects like carpeting on stairs and certain toys. While we didn't feel it was time to lose him, Mother Nature had other ideas and she was calling all the shots.

I have never had to do anything like this before in my life. In fact, I've long been an advocate of letting a pets little clock tick down on it's own. Barring pain of course. If they were suffering then that had to be stopped. As we walked into the vets office I had flash back's of the tiny kitten he was and how happy we were to have saved his life. And now here we were all these years later about to take his life from him. When we talk about justice in life, so many times I have to ask where?
So hard!

Physically, Bailey was fine. To all outward appearances he looked the picture of health! He had so much energy and liked to do all the things he's always done. There were seemingly no changes except for the disease that was stealing his mind.

Bailey had also been through so much with us. Two cross country moves riding shotgun with us in the suv and not a complaint out of him. He was a trooper that's for sure. He provided more than a few laughs over the years too... He loved Xmas...the gifties from his own stocking, the little treat of egg nog on Xmas Eve and some turkey and gravy Xmas Day. How empty those days will feel now, even tho' we have our other boys, there is that upstart Bailey hole which will not be filled. Oh gawd this was so hard! It is hard now as I type with tears in my eyes and a painful lump in my throat.

I am not a religious person. I'm not sure I believe in afterlives or anything of that nature, but if there is one, I am hoping that Bailey is there and that there are lots of his favorite things. He loved to play with springs and little furry toy mice. He could amuse himself for hours with a little plastic curly thing. We were never at a loss of what to buy him...

I could reminisce for hours here but there are space and time restraints. Besides, I will continue to get sadder still and I need to start my healing process for my other little guys sakes. They are mystified too as to where both their brothers have gotten to.

Rest in peace Bailey. And if you've joined Jakey, go easy on him okay? =) We love you so much and will never forget you.

Ding Ding The Monster's Dead!

2011-05-02T07:49:00.000-07:00

The wicked monster's dead! But is the war on terrorism over? Absolutely NOT.

It should be noted that terrorism in the form of Islamo-facism did not start 10 years ago with the attacks on the Towers and it will not end with the demise of its mastermind. He has become, in recent years, merely a figurehead to their cause. The strife in the middle east is thousands of years old and will continue throughout our lifetime. It was there before any of us were born and it will still be there long after our deaths. What we have seen is merely another horrid chapter come to a close.

However, despite this rather gloomy reality, bin-Laden’s death is cause for great celebration. It represents a huge victory for justice as well as closure for the families of the victims of 9/11 and the men and women who sought him out for the past decade. It is a victory for civilization over the forces of barbarism in the modern world. And it is no less a victory for the Muslim world as a whole. Bin Laden has preyed on them as well. The Muslim world suffered tremendously from terrorism, and in all too many cases, far more, at the hands of his terrorists’ than did many other peoples of this world. Up to and including the Towers tragedy, in which it was speculated 1200 Muslims died as well. There is no way of having exact numbers because sadly there are still bone fragments that haven't been identified.

Yet we mistakenly blame Muslims as a whole for what radical fascists do in the name of Allah. We haven't seemed to learn that to stop hatred, someone has to lead by example. I wonder sometimes, did Timothy McVeigh pray to his god before engaging his bombs in Oklahoma? Did Reverend Jim Jones get to his knees and pray for guidance before setting out his instructions to his followers? If so, should we not be fearful of all Christians as well? And yes, there are those who actually enjoy hating, those who shock me with their hatred, feeling easy and righteous about it, but that's something for another blog on another day.

The argument of course, is that these Christian men I've cited were sick minds. Like bin Laden I presume?

Bin Laden repeatedly used Islamic texts taken out of context and twisted to exhort violent action from an ignorant and hate-filled following of terrorists. Usually, very young radicals wanting to break away from the rigid confines of their religion and who were easily convinced the US was an evil empire of infidels. This was how his operations started and grew to wreak havoc against American military as well as our citizenry. It is for this reason we celebrate the death of Bin-Laden in the same way that those of an earlier generation celebrated the death of Adolf Hitler and for many of the same reasons.

There are concerns that bin-Laden’s death will spur new and more violent acts of terrorism. That his death will cause greater hatred among his followers. I am not convinced that bin Laden’s death will somehow give these people super powers to accomplish what they’ve failed at over and over again in the last ten years - to repeat the heinous crime of 9/11…but they may well try. Frankly, I don’t see how those who hate us enough to murder thousands of innocent people from all over the world, can possibly hate us any more than they already do, but again, I don't think they have the capacity to stop how they feel, it is so engrained.

We think of the Americans lost in the New York City tragedy, the act that left a crater in the middle of our largest most populated city, but it wasn't just Americans lost that day. While it happened on our soil, 91 other countries lost people that day. Including the Muslim world. Terrorism isn't discriminatory.

I salute all our men & women in uniform for this great victory. I salute them all. It may well be that the actual credit for this go to the few who were actually there & carried out the mission, but it was the efforts of all of them, from the private killed in Iraq to the Sergeant wounded in Afghanistan, that eventually brought this about.

Yup, right up to the President, who at great political risk to himself said, "You think you have him? Okay, DO IT!"

Dedicated to Jakey...

2011-02-12T15:37:00.000-08:00

Now Comes The Night

This song is dedicated to Jakey on his passing, Saturday February 12, 2011. Baby, I miss you so much already. I cannot believe the pain.

He was such a Rob Thomas fan & I listened this song again on the afternoon of the day he died. ='(

When the hour is upon us
And our beauty surely gone
No you will not be forgotten
No you will not be alone

And when the day has all but ended
And our echo starts to fade
No you will not be alone then
And you will not be afraid
No you will not be afraid

When the fog has finally lifted
From my cold and tired brow
No I will not leave you crying
And I will not let you down
No I will not let you down
I will not let you down

Now comes the night
Feel it fading away
And the soul underneath
Is it all that remains
So just slide over here
Leave your fear in the fray
Let us hold to each other
Until the end of our days

When the hour is upon us
And our beauty surely gone
No you will not be forgotten
No you will not be alone
No you will not be alone

Eric Clapton in the 'Burgh...

2010-09-25T16:26:00.000-07:00

A lifelong dream of mine came true last Thursday night, February 25th when we battled to stay ahead of one of the worst blizzards of the year and get from Philly to Pittsburgh ahead of the storm. The goal was to see my guitar idol Eric Clapton who was going to be appearing at the dear old Igloo (Mellon Arena). Having missed the chance to see him a number of times already, I was very nervous it would happen again as they talked of record breaking snowfall the day before the concert.

Could we make the 300 plus mile trip before the storm hit? Well, we were about to find out because we were not going to be deprived of another opportunity to see him.
And see the Igloo for the last time too, because that wonderful old arena, the oldest in the NHL, was slated to also be torn down within the month.

So we left the Mustang in our garage, knowing better than to take it on a snowy trip and sliding off the road. Instead we hopped into my 15 year old Escort GT knowing that if we had any chance at all of making it to Pittsburgh, my Pokey was going to be the one to get us there.

~Pokey resting on Laurel Highlands

We arrived in the Burgh and had time to spare...the weather still holding strong in that fair city.

After getting settled and having something to eat it was off to the Igloo like we had done so many times while living there and going to so many Penguins games. It was so bittersweet being back, knowing I was going to see Eric for the first time in my life - and seeing the Igloo for my last time.

Roger Daltrey was appearing with Eric and opened the show with some of his older Who stuff but much of his stuff was new to the audience. He did many covers of other artists and endeared himself immediately with the crowd. Opening his portion with I Can See For Miles and The Real Me, he also did a Taj Mahal cover of Freedom Ride. Levon Helm's song, Gimme A Stone was perhaps the favorite of the Daltrey set -

Finally, the moment everyone had come for. Eric strolled out on stage without any fanfare whatsoever, looking like a college professor dressed for a weekend visit to the market. He wore jeans, a plain blue button-down shirt and sneakers, his hair long, his manner quiet and unassuming.

When he played the opening chords of "Goin' Down Slow" he was suddenly transformed — as was I and the rest of the audience — through his brief 15-song, 90-minute set. The brevity of the show didn't matter. Like other singular artists — think Pavarotti, Baryshnikov or DeNiro — Clapton's talent defies description, and astounds even as it takes place before one's eyes. He seems almost lackadaisical in his approach to his craft, but the genius that emerges as his hands fly up and down the length of his guitar is astounding.

Four songs into the evening Clapton played "Old Love," an atmospheric, sweetly melancholic tune that featured one of his indescribable guitar solos. You start to think nothing would top this ... until the next song, a rousing version of "I Shot the Sheriff" which featured yet another breathtaking guitar solo. So went the entire evening. Even the obligatory acoustic run of songs, which featured "Driftin' Blues," "Nobody Knows When You're Down and Out," "Running on Faith" and "I've Got a Rock 'n' Roll Heart," transcended the usual limitations of such forays.

Instead of seeming indulgent, Clapton transformed the whole arena into an intimate club. The lighting - the general feeling given off - his quiet rapport with his listeners, made everyone feel that he was playing for them...only them. Everyone had "their" Clapton song and he accommodated most by giving them that. How do you top that?

Well, we are talking Eric Clapton here right? It's easy. He trotted out "Badge" from his tenure with Cream, and even though a keyboardist added some odd-sounding accompaniment (much to Clapton's amusement) the grandness of this magisterial song shone through. With another stunning solo unleashed, of course.

Clapton followed with sparkling versions of "Little Queen of Spades," "Before You Accuse Me," "Wonderful Tonight" and "Cocaine," the audience response increasing with each selection. And that was it! Suddenly it was over, save for a truncated, almost carnival-like version of "Crossroads" that ended the evening much, much too soon.

I wish I could have captured more video of this concert but to be honest, I was so wrapped up in what I was experiencing, I simply forgot to turn the Flip on when I maybe could have. However, I did get a few and will leave you with one....

So I had finally achieved the thing I've waited my entire life for. And now I want to do it again!

A Country Gone Terribly Wrong

2010-08-13T07:54:00.000-07:00

Jokes can be in such poor taste.

I was listening to the radio this morning and the DJ took a moment to remind us that tomorrow is Ramadan. He went on to explain that on that holy day Muslims must fast. They cannot eat or drink. And they can’t have sex. He joked that we should all watch out now because there will be “hungry, horny” Muslims running around everywhere. Cute. But he couldn’t stop there. After a measured beat, he chuckled, “They’ll be looking for something to bomb.”

Now, those few moments of tasteless radio are so wrong on so many levels that I hope the guy was marched right off the air into his boss’s office. But, could we have spiraled so far downward since 9/11 that his boss – and the majority of his listeners – would actually applaud his joke? I know the answer to this one, it was rhetorical.

It reminded me of how stomach-churning the recent brouhaha is over the “Ground Zero Mosque.” Who crafted the term “Ground Zero Mosque” anyway? It certainly hasn't escaped the more informed that the term was masterfully devised to fan the flames of hatred vigorously. Now, thanks to that bit of wordcraft, we have people running amok all over the country vandalizing under-construction mosques.

And in some areas, bus ads in New York City implying that the World Trade Center was demolished to make room for a “Mega Mosque.” Dear Lord! Is there no limit to the lengths people will go to spread their hatred? But what's worse, is there no end to the nonsense people are willing to swallow to justify their hatreds? Apparently not. We can carry placards calling the president of the country a Nazi & show pictures of him in whiteface. We have politicians running for office advocating we pick up guns and kill those politicians we don't agree with.

We have Americans who will listen to tv shows such as Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck and other spewing Fox malcontents with cultlike attention. These personalities who will get more facts wrong in the space of one hour than an average third grader can do over the course of his school year.

And they choose to embrace these lies because it fits into their racist way of thinking even tho' the truth openly is there to correct us all. Whether we are speaking of the Birthers, pictures of President Obama in whiteface or comparisons of the first black president to Hitler, many consider these elements of the tea party inherently racist because they are indicative of a new type of political discourse that first emerged during the last series of presidential campaigns.

Tea party leaders of course, reject charges of racism by insisting that their movement is inclusive of all races. Even though its membership is 99.9 percent white. No, those 'isolated racial incidents' such as calling civil rights hero John Lewis the n-word and spitting in his face probably did not happen (and if it did, why then it's only the actions of a marginal few). They are quick to assure us that 'We are not racist, but...' That 'but' is legends long. They contend that those who make such accusations are simply “playing the race card” for political means. Really? I don't see any of us putting up signs to accuse them of treason. Which we would be very justified in doing since they are acting treasonous.

Just to bring one up to speed on what treason is, aside from being illegal and coming with a very long prison time - 'Treason is any attempt to overthrow the government or impair the well-being of a state to which one owes allegiance; the crime of giving aid or comfort to those who wish to harm one's government". Sure sounds like both the tea party and the Republican party to me.

Why haven’t we learned anything since 1942? Then again, why should we have? We haven't really learned much about tolerance, morality, living and sharing anything since 1492 either, so why begin now?

Am I comfortable with the Muslim way of thinking or worshiping? Or treating their female followers? No, I'm not at all. But at the moment, I'm not too damn comfortable with the Christian white either. Why they feel it is totally alright for them to spread hatred and advocate white supremacy is beyond me and why they feel justified in their actions because of a terrorist attack which killed innocent Muslims as well? I just don't get it, sorry. But then again, hypocrisy has never been my strong suit either.

This country was founded on the belief that every citizen should be allowed to worship their creator as they see him. Freedom of religion is a principle that supports the freedom of an individual or community, in public or private, to manifest or practice, and observe their beliefs.

Back in 1807, Thomas Jefferson said "among the inestimable of our blessings, also, is that ...of liberty to worship our Creator in the way we think most agreeable to His will". In a country with a state religion, freedom of religion is generally considered to mean that the government permits religious practices of other sects besides the state religion, and does not persecute, or allow persecution of believers in other faiths.

For a party who loves to remind us they want their country back and are given to quote the founding fathers at every opportunity, they seem to edit out that which doesn't support their hatred and prejudices. They are a party of obstructionists led by the likes of Sarah Palin, Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh, Michelle Bachmann and a burgeoning Sharron Angle. They would burn cross on the White House lawn and call for a removal of most of the liberties of the Bill Of Rights except for those of course that serve their self interests.

Yes, they are right - the country is broken and needs fixing. But they are the ones responsible for breaking it so what would they suggest we do with them?

Romancing the Rodeo - the unanswered crimes

2010-07-17T09:04:00.000-07:00

Officials hold up tarps to shield the horse from the public's eyes after it collapsed and died on Sunday evening.

We don't want people to see the truth now, do we?

**Animal welfare advocates say more are calling for historic event to be shut down.

The difficulty in writing this is directly related to the starts I've made to do it. That would be four. The reason being, every time I think I have it done, the numbers change. And always for the worse.

My first draft was about four horses dying in the space of 24 hours. Since that time last Saturday, the number has risen to six. Which helps make my case, but saddens my heart further.

My grievance is about rodeos, generally, but the Calgary Stampede specifically—the annual animal abuse get-together disguised as a happy-go-lucky [sic] Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth. Nothing could be further from the truth and this year it seems to be finally exposed for what it really is: a cruel cash cow for the city of Calgary but a bigger embarrassment to many.

What makes it a little worse is that it's being played out in a country which prides itself on compassion and peacekeeping. Canadians are quick to protest civil rights violations of humans in other countries around the globe. They protest dolphins being killed in a cove in Taiji, Japan and they protest whale hunting by Japan, Norway and Iceland. But apparently none of this extends to anything within their own borders, for their government condones the seal slaughter and it now appears they don't have much remorse over grinding animals into the ground at the rodeo either. Even when other countries try to shame them into changing, as Britain has just done by sending a letter to the Canadian government regarding the rodeo, they just turn a deaf ear.

Mind you, I am not broad-brushing the entire population of Canada. I know there are people there working diligently to make the changes needed. But they are too few and they are countered by those who either don't care 'because it's ours' ergo it's okay, or have bought into the rhetoric coming from the provincial organization and feel that 'gosh, it's too bad all these animals are dead isn't it, but hey! It happens'. Visiting the newspaper and television forums to get a feel for how Canadians feel about this is extremely disheartening. Their only real answer, when confronted with these facts, is to attack each other with remarks about homeless people and taxed gas. Like one thing really has anything to do with the other; they can find no valid argument.

This years stampede isn't near over yet either. There's still three more days of this. Do we know how many other animals will perish in the name of entertainment? Do we wait to see what other horrible death happens while fans argue it's their heritage—their tradition? They believe it shouldn't change because of those things. I wonder what Abraham Lincoln would have to say about that. Heritage and tradition were also a part of the South and owning slaves needed to be done away with. Because something can be dated back doesn't necessarily give it the stamp of approval to continue.

The other argument which comes up is the idea that the rodeo is an offshoot of ranching. Nothing could be further from the truth! There's never been a rancher alive who would use his stock—his investments—the way the rodeo uses the animals. The rancher had money invested in his animals so they would bring him revenues, returns on his money. He would never risk having an animal break a leg or a back and have to be destroyed.

The rodeo was brought about by a judge who held a competition between two men to see who could best handle extreme ranch work. One task was to break wild mustangs and the other was to rope and secure calves who were moving away from the herd and into danger, rope them without causing injury to the young animal. From that, Wild Bill Hickok took it on the road and the rest is history.

We've come a long way, haven't we baby? Now, 'breaking a horse' is literal, and breaking a calf's necks is, I believe, injuring it to death. That ranch judge would have tossed us all out on our asses.

I know the money made by these events every year tallies into the millions of dollars in North America, but I also believe there is a time for everything and until there's a rodeo which puts animals' welfare first, it's time to hold a moratorium on them. The human participants go in by choice and at their own risk. The animals are victims and are subjected to all of this. And far too many end up dead.

And last but certainly not least, for you apologists and defenders of the rodeo out there, I ask you to visit SHARK. (SHowing Animals Respect and Kindness) If, after looking at the facts face to face, you can continue to say it's just a fun romp in the hay, then I say to you, you're a heartless cowboy with your eye on the prize money and your mind firmly in denial.

The romance of the Rodeo

2010-07-14T09:41:00.000-07:00

I'm aware of the complaints leveled against rodeos by animal rights organizations such as PETA - they are growing as each day passes and rightly so. I am a part of that. As the owner of four cats and supporter of numerous animal protection organizations, I know myself to be one who cares deeply for all animals. You need only look into my backyard to see that. I respect all animals, both large and small for the magnificent creatures that they are and I'm appalled when I see them abused or neglected.

I admit that every year I grow more & more concerned about the treatment of the animals used in rodeos. And with each year passing, nothing is being done to change this. I feel it is about time to speak up louder than ever, but before I continue, in case someone wants to question my concerns, citing I seem to care more for the animal than human life, it goes without saying I am equally concerned about the clear risk of injury to the human competitors. There is a vast difference here however - their risk is their choice - the animals risk is not.

**The origins of the rodeo have been debated & contested, but I believe the very first was held in Deer Trail Colorado in 1869. And no, it wasn't born from ranch work as so many like to believe - no rancher in his right mind would chance injury to his stock like happens at rodeos. A broken leg or broken back to his animals meant he lost that animal and a part of his livelihood. No, the first "rodeo" was launched by a court judge to decide who was a better farm worker and gained notoriety when "Wild Bill", J. B. Hickok took it on the road in his traveling Wild West show.

Believing it to be an extension of ranching is a fallacy and one rodeo proponents want people to believe. It's just not so, any more than Santa Claus is the real reason behind holding Christmas on Dec. 25th each year. It's all about money. Incidentally, Bill was about as western as the Statue of Liberty too, having been born in Illinois. But he liked to play cowboys and Indians too. One thing I've always found amusing is the rodeo beginning with it's impressive parade of flag bearers and contestants, all on horseback parading through the arena. They carry flags of the USA, Canada as well as the provincial or state flag. A mini Olympics for the horse shit crowd I guess. Looking at these flags, one sees money is prevalent - there are flags for sponsors such as Dodge trucks, U.S. Smokeless Tobacco and Wrangler Jeans. Flags for ranching equipment, even flags from medical practices such as chiropractors. For cowboys or animals I wonder? Oddly though, there are no flags from the ASPCA or the Humane Society, though most of the rodeo has as much if not more to do with animals.

Let it be noted too, it's a totally different crowd of people that you'll see at the Fair portion of the Stampede too. The people enjoying the fair with the rides, baking competitions & quilt sewing are a far different crowd from the rodeo crowd. Where the crowd buying goods & enjoying rides at the fair are multi-racial and suburbanite, the rodeo crowd is overwhelmingly white and clearly country. There is a clear proliferation of cowboy hats, denim jeans with blown knees and cowboy boots, not only on the adults but even on the youngest children. Got to start them young apparently. And if you don't have a cowboy hat, there are plenty on sale right inside the rodeo entrance along with a rodeo shop and a large concession area. They want to make sure you're appropriately attired for their animal abuse show. Oh yes and let's not forget - make gobs of money off you too.

The rodeo's themselves are now week long affairs designed to make millions of dollars through merchandising & visitors to their host cities. They're divided into multiple sections of events which ultimately repeat after an intermission. While some of the events move along quickly, others such as the Team Roping seem to last forever. I have to admit that in the three rodeos I was talked into attending, I found myself rooting for the animals in all of the events, garnering many a dirty look from fellow spectators. One even spit on me. Did I say anything about these people having class?

The scheduled events for most rodeos - Brahma Bull Riding, Bareback Bronc Riding and Saddle Bronc Riding, are supposed shows of man's endurance against animal. Well, okay if you must, but as just mentioned I am going to be on the animals side in this. I have no sympathy for Mr. He-man...or Ms. Superwoman.

But Calf Roping and Steer Wrestling are incredibly disturbing. No one can convince myself that the animals aren't feeling a lot of pain in those events especially when you see a lassoed calf fly backwards doing a 360 in the air as it's roped or when you see a cowboy twist the neck of a young steer in what appears to be an unnatural position. The number of deaths of animals in these events pretty much confirms that as well. The opening picture to this post clearly shows a young animal in distress as he's dragged around the arena by his neck, the rope cutting into his eye.

Even in the seemingly more gentle events such as the riding events, the animals are fitted with what I've learned is called a "bucking strap" which fits around the animals abdomen and groin making them sufficiently irritable and compelled to toss off the competitor.

Photo courtesy of John Fischer

To those disbelievers, note the above photo clearly showing this abrasive & painful strap on the animals lower abdomen. It's not my intention to condemn all rodeos in general.

And I have to keep my personal feelings somewhat in check & look at the event with some objectivity because I really have no way of knowing how many are held across the continent that do have regulations in place to assure the animals health & well-being. Having said that, I know many, like Calgary Alberta's say they do, but seeing the dead and injured animals taken from the grounds each year, I have to surmise the people put there to do this job are either completely inept or they're taking money to turn their heads in the other direction. In which case they should be fired & people who can do a better job should be brought in to protect the animals. Case in point right now in Calgary where in the short space of 24 hours, four horses have lost their lives. I might add here however, calf roping should definitely be removed as an event, because there is no way of doing this with causing great pain, injury or death to the calf.

"The Calgary Stampede has been under fire from animal rights activists, who have said it is time for the Stampede to come to an end. Four horses have already died this year. CTV ran a story about the Calgary Animal Rights Meet-up Group earlier this month. The organization launched a campaign against the Calgary Stampede's sponsors, saying "Every year animals are hurt and killed and scared out of their minds for the sake of entertainment, not to mention the ones that get killed in the practice sessions."

And the Stampede with its rodeo has only just gotten underway, so prepare yourself. How many more die before the closing ceremonies? I recognize that it's an important part of the culture and history of our two countries, Canada's & the US. I'm very familiar with the cowboy tradition in the Americas, dating back to the vaqueros, (the Spanish or Mexican cowboys,) and the more famous American cowboy of the old west. I realize that rodeo is not going to go away. There's too much money invested in it and keeping it going as a cash cow for too many people. But major changes need to be made and without delay!

For most people living in urban areas their whole lives, it's the only opportunity they'll ever have to experience the 'Old West'. They love the cowboys, the hat waving & the music at these events. It conjures up the cowboy & Indian games we played as kids - the westerns movies we watched with hard riding & wrangling. However, those movie sets had people there to protect the rights of the animals forced into doing things that humans demand of them. Things that could kill them many times. The animal trainers and animal owners were there to protect their animals and their investments. Kids I knew, myself included, grew up playing cowboys and Indians where each group hunted each other. Our bikes and Big Wheels were our steeds and they never died because our horse was our best friend. As an aside, in reality, it wasn't the cowboys who were responsible for the mass slaughter of hundreds of thousands of Native Americans. That disgrace fell to the U.S. cavalry. But that's for another blog at another time.

Back to the topic at hand.

I guess I'm saying is that unless & until these organizations can bring *real* regulation in & *really* stop animal abuse leading to death, then the rodeo to me is just a more romantic name for 'Animal Abuse with spectators'. Right up there with bull fighting, dog fighting, cock fighting & animal crushing and all the other things that have and should be banned. We continually take pride in ourselves for being compassionate & humane individuals, yet we fall so short of that by not demanding more from these organizations whose only focus is the gobs of money they bring to their respective cities every year. We pat ourselves on the back as we protest injustice and atrocities seen in other lands yet allow those same injustices happen right under our own noses. I think we need to clean up our own backyards a bit too. It's about time we walked the talk.

What if you could no longer eat food because it made you sick?

2010-03-20T19:52:00.000-07:00

I am taking the liberty of putting this on my blog because it is such a heart wrenching situation I feel it has to be heard. People need to read this, they need to learn about it - they need to press the powers that be to help babies like Izzy and her family as well. Especially her family.

Kelley is a friend of mine and is Izzy's mommy. She loves her little girl as much as any mother could possibly love a child! Her pain when her baby is sick is probably worse than any pain she herself would have. But she has to watch as her baby suffers every hour of every day of every week. Can you put yourself in her place for only a moment without having your heart begin to ache? Because I can't.
I can't even begin to imagine how her and her husband feel every hour as they battle this disease and yes, even sadder, have to battle the health insurance companies to get help for their baby. And try to make doctors understand what life is like for them on a daily basis.
I am hoping that if I can't do nothing else, I can at least bring this to my readerships attention and from there, just maybe there will come a time when this disease is found only in old medical books. Here is Izzy's Mom's note I read just hours ago - that provoked me into including it here.

"What if you could no longer eat food because it made you sick?"

My Husband wrote this late last night. We are trying to bring awareness to the disease our daughter has so that hopefully one day we can encourage more research and find a cure!!

Allergies aren’t that big of a deal. Right? What if you couldn’t eat most foods or even any food at all? This is the struggle my 2-year-old daughter, Isabelle, is facing. Isabelle battles a nefarious and unpredictable disease called Eosinophilic Esophagitis (EE) where all food can be the enemy.

It’s incredibly ironic that the one thing that is supposed to sustain us can actually be the one thing that hurts us. If she eats dinner, the white blood cells attack. If she picks up a potato chip off the floor and eats it, the white blood cells attack. If she nibbles a little chocolate egg, the white blood cells attack. When the white blood cells attack, they strike her digestive system, destroying her little esophagus, inflicting severe tissue damage and creating pain few can imagine let alone bear on a daily basis. That is the nature of this disease which was only discovered 10 years ago. Food is life. We need it. We celebrate it.

In our family, it’s dramatically different. Food is approached with caution. Mom and Dad evaluate every single type of food Isabelle puts to her lips. It is constant diligence and it is exhausting. What most families take for granted in sharing a meal, our family has to read a label for ingredients, prepare it without cross-contaminating it, and hope it won’t make our child sick.

Trying to stop a child from the innocent act of wanting to eat something, anything, is excruciatingly difficult. Food is about socializing. When we meet, we eat. When we gather, we eat. When we have fun, we eat. Everyone gets to eat, except the child with EE. He or she is left to survive off an amino acid-based formula which provides nutrition. It provides no taste(bad taste), no pleasure, and no sense of fulfillment. It is a struggle for any parent to explain to a child why everyone can eat except him or her.

Let’s not stop there. Since Izzy cannot eat most foods, she hasn’t developed the necessary oral motor skills for speech. At 28 months, she has the speech of a 12-month -old because she can’t eat enough food to strengthen and coordinate her speech muscles. The result is an inability to communicate with her Mommy and Daddy on a basic level when she becomes sick from eating food. Izzy is unable to effectively tell us if and when her tummy hurts, if her throat and esophagus burns, or if she has headaches, another symptom of EE.
We sometimes take our best guess at what might bring her comfort and guide her on regimen of steroids and Proton pump inhibitors (PPIs) that should be reserved for adults 10 times her age.

The biggest challenge right now is that few people have any understanding of the complexity of this disease and how it impacts small children physically, mentally, and emotionally. One day, this childhood nightmare will be eradicated from our world. But today, we need to educate people about EE and build awareness so that funds can be generated for research to help the little ones who rely on us. Help us get the world of EE into mainstream America. So that, if nothing else, a child with EE will never have to hear the ignorant words spewed at them, “Oh, you just have food allergies. That’s easy, just eat something else.” Sometimes, little ears hear and little hearts break.

REPUBLICAN PARTY, RED FROM THE START

2010-02-22T19:15:00.000-08:00

While Republicans wail nowadays about how Marxist the Democratic party is & how they are turning the country into a socialist nation, let's take a look at the real Marxist party shall we? Who really has ties with Marx, Communism & to a degree socialist states.

The Republican lament these days is that the country is moving away from it's core values & has “lost its way” & “gone wrong.” It has “diverged” from the fiscally responsible, small government philosophy of Republican heroes like Robert Taft whom Eisenhower’s handlers finagled out of the nomination for President in 1952.

We're now told this is why today’s Republican Establishment hates Dr. Ron Paul with such a passion; that they hate him because, like Taft, he is the quintessential Republican. Patriots who say that are mistaken, of course.
The reason the Republican Establishment hates Dr. Paul is precisely that he is *not* a traditional, mainstream Republican - that his platform of freedom is an aberration. The Republican Party didn’t “go wrong,” didn’t “go left” , didn't go any direction. It has been wrong from the beginning, from the day it was founded.

From the very beginning, the Republican Party has worked without deviation for bigger, more imperial government, for higher taxes, for more wars, for more totalitarianism. From the beginning, the Republican Party has been Red. Why? In 1848, Communists rose in revolution across Europe, united by a document prepared for the purpose, entitled Manifesto of the Communist Party. It's author was the degenerate Karl Marx, whom a small gang of wealthy Communists – the League of Just Men – hired for the purpose. The Manifesto told its adherents & its victims what the Communists would do.

But the Revolution of 1848 failed. The perpetrators escaped, traveled where else but to the United States.

In 1856, the Republican Party ran its first candidate for President. By that time, the Communists from Europe had thoroughly infiltrated this country, especially the North. Many became high ranking officers in the Union Army - top government officials.

Down through the decades, Americans have wondered about the Yankee brutality in that war. Lee invaded the North, but that sublime Christian hero forbade any forays against civilians. Military genius Stonewall Jackson stood like a stone wall, routed the Yankees at Manassas, but when Barbara Frietchie insisted on flying the Yankee flag in Frederick, Maryland, rather than the Stars & Bars, that sublime Christian hero commanded, according to John Greenleaf Whittier, “‘Who touches a hair of yon gray head/dies like a dog! March on!’ he said.”

But the Yankees, invading the South, were monsters, killing, raping & destroying civilian property. In one Georgia town, some 400 women were penned up in the town square in the July heat for almost a week without food, water or access to toilets of any kind. And it got worse when the Yankees got into the liquor. Some two thousand southern women & children were then shipped north to labor as slaves.

Sherman’s scorched earth March to the Sea was a horror even the later Nazis could not equal. Why? Because the Yankees hated Negro slavery so much? There can be no doubt that the already strong Communist influence in the North, combined with that of the maniacal abolitionists, was at least one of the main reasons. Slavery was a handy excuse, an afterthought they introduced to gain propaganda traction.
In retrospect, it appears that because nothing like this had ever happened in this country before, Lee & Jackson did not fully comprehend what they were fighting. Had this really been a “Civil” War, rather than a secession, they would & could easily have seized Washington after Manassas & hanged the first "Communist President" along with the other war criminals. Instead they went home, in the mistaken belief that the defeated Yankees would leave them alone. Lee did come to understand, but too late. He said after the war that had he known at the beginning what he had since found out, he would have fought to the last man.

What was the South fighting? Alexander Hamilton was the nation’s first big government politician. Hamilton wanted a strong central government & a national bank. Vice President Aaron Burr killed Hamilton in a duel. The problem was that Burr didn’t kill him soon enough. Henry Clay inherited & expanded Hamilton’s ideas in something called the “American System,” which advocated big government subsidies for favored industries & high, ruinous tariffs, what we today call “socialism for the rich.” Clay inspired smooth talking railroad lawyer Abraham Lincoln, who inherited the Red escapees from the Revolution of 1848 & became our first 'Communist' President.
All of this comes again to mind with the recent publication of Red Republicans: Marxism in the Civil War and Lincoln’s Marxists (2007) by Southern historians Walter D. Kennedy & Al Benson, Jr. Don't believe me, then read this book, because it irrefutably nails down everything I've said above & then some. Take a peek through the Red Republicans, & remember that the reason most Americans have never heard of all this is because it's the winner writing the history.

For instance, August Willich was a member of the London Communist League with Karl Marx & Friedrich Engels. Needless to say, Willich became a major general in the Union Army. Robert Rosa belonged to the New York Communist Club & was a major in the 45th New York Infantry. Brigadier general Louis Blenker of New York was a “convinced Marxist.” His 10,000 man division looted people in Virginia, inspiring the term “Blenkered.” Many of his men were fresh from European prisons. Our first Communist President knew this, but turned them loose on the people of the South.

In Red Republicans you'll learn of nine European revolutionaries convicted of treason & banished to Australia. They escaped to the united States & Canada. I took this in school so am familiar with all this. Three or four of them, with no military experience, became Union generals, joining at least three other Marx confidants who already held that rank. “Every man of the nine became a member of the Canadian Parliament, a governor of a territory or state in the Union, party leader, prime minister or attorney general.”

Many of these men, though not all, were Germans, some four thousand of whom escaped to this country. Known as Forty-Eighters, they quickly added violent abolitionism & feminism to their Communist beliefs. In Missouri, Forty-Eighter Franz Sigel became a Union general & had uniforms made for his Third Infantry Regiment that closely resembled the uniforms worn by socialist revolutionaries in Germany in 1849. Forty-Eighters who became high ranking Union commanders included Colonel Friedrich Salomon, Ninth Wisconsin, Colonel Fritz Anneke, Thirty Fourth Wisconsin & Colonel Konrad Krez, Twenty Seventh Wisconsin. Communist journalist Karl Heinzen wrote: “If you have to blow up half a continent & cause a bloodbath to destroy the party of barbarism, you should have no scruples of conscience. Anyone who would not joyously sacrifice his life for the satisfaction of exterminating a million barbarians is not a true republican.” Heinzen came to this country & supported Lincoln.

Joseph Weydemeyer had to flee Germany when the Communist Revolution failed. In London he belonged to the Communist League & was a close friend of both Marx & Engels. He came to this country in 1851, supported Lincoln, maintained his close friendship with Marx & became a Brigadier General in the Union Army. Dedicated socialist Richard Hinton had to leave England. In this country he became a Union colonel, a Radical Republican & an associate of the maniac John Brown.
So was Allan Pinkerton, who financed him. At one meeting with Brown, Pinkerton told his son: “Look well upon that man. He is greater than Napoleon & just as great as George Washington.” Yes, Pinkerton was the great detective who founded the agency that bears his name. Why didn’t you know that?

In Kansas, mass murderer Brown enjoyed the support of wealthy Yankees (the Secret Six). August Bondi & Charles Kaiser, who worked with Brown there, were Forty Eighters.

What about Marx himself? Marx fled to England, where he is buried. He became the European correspondent for socialist Horace Greeley’s New York Tribune, whose Managing Editor, Charles Dana, was a Communist. Dana hired Marx as a foreign correspondent. Marx wrote often of his kinship with the new Republican Party. Dana’s generosity to Marx kept that scumbag alive. Remember that Marx never worked a day to support his family, but did find time to knock up their maid. Dana later became Assistant Secretary of War. All these people were in place when our first 'Communist' President was elected on the Republican ticket in 1860 & provoked Lincoln’s Communist War to Destroy the Union.

The GOP Convention of 1860 took place in Chicago, a flaming center of German Communism. Many such Reds were delegates, including Johann Bernhard Stallo & Frederick Hassaurek from Ohio & Heinrich Bornstein from Missouri, a very good friend of Marx. Socialist Carl Schurz was a delegate from Wisconsin. To guarantee German support in Illinois, Lincoln secretly bought the Illinois Staats Anzieger. After the election he awarded the editor a consular post.

Socialist Friedrich Kapp was editor of the New Yorker-Abendzeitung. He wrote propaganda for the new Republican Party & helped mightily to deliver the German-American vote to Lincoln. With other Forty-Eighters, he was an elector for Lincoln in 1860. Remember, these are just a few examples. You really need to read the book. I can't possibly give any more than an essence of its content here.

Keep in mind too that slavery, for these Communists, was just an afterthought, a tool. Before the War for Independence, it was the Southern colonies that petitioned the King to stop importing slaves into the South. Did you know that Jefferson tried to include in the Declaration of Independence a complaint against the King because his government had forbidden the colonies to end the slave trade? Jefferson’s language was deleted to avoid giving offense to New England, which was making buckets of money trading slaves. Did you also know that if slavery was what the South fought to defend, all it had to do was stay in the Union? Lincoln made clear that he would defend slavery & would not free slaves owned by a man in a state within the Union: [quote]“I have no purpose, directly or indirectly, to interfere with the institution of slavery in the States where it exists. I believe I have no lawful right to do so, and I have no inclination to do so.”[unquote]

Remember that the Emancipation Proclamation came well into the war. It was a propaganda stunt that freed only the slaves in areas controlled by the Confederacy; in other words, none. Meanwhile, prominent abolitionist Robert E. Lee, the first man Lincoln offered command of the Union Army, had freed his family’s slaves long before the war. So, what were the Communists who came here after? Republican Senator John Sherman, brother of the monster who Marched to the Sea, advised his fellow senators to “nationalize as much as possible [making] men love their country before their states. All private interests, all local interests, all banking interests, the interests of individuals, everything, should be subordinate now to the interests of the Government.”

Germany was a decentralized collection of independent states. The goal of the Forty Eighters there was a “united, indivisible republic” in which those states would be dissolved. Land & private industry would be confiscated. The government would be transformed into a Socialist dictatorship. These are the ideas the Forty Eighters came to implement here. By the way, that is what Hitler did in the 1930s. That is what the fleeing Communists found so attractive in Lincoln.

So, again, the Republican Party did not “go wrong.” It was rotten from the start. It has never been anything else but red. The characterization of Republican states as “red states” is quite appropriate. What do these revelations mean to us? Again, Dr. Paul is an aberration. He is not a “traditional Republican.” A “traditional Republican” stands for high taxes, imperial government & perpetual war. Pretty much what we've seen so far.

The Little Blue Spruce

2009-12-21T09:38:00.000-08:00

He may not be mighty, barely 4 feet high - he may not have a gazillion lights or expensive ornaments gracing his boughs. He may not have been on TV with people gathered 'round singing Christmas carols either, but he is proudly living up to his name - Blue Spruce.

This photo was taken after our snowstorm on Saturday December 19, without using any filters or special tricks to get an effect. It was taken just after it stopped snowing about dinnertime and the lights on the tree shining through the snow created a blue aura.

This is Your Brain on Music – the science of human obsession

2009-06-22T14:15:00.000-07:00

It is funny how I initially came upon this book. Myself, along with a group of friends were sitting around talking one afternoon about how we eventually all seem to get stuck or trapped in our own generations music.I immediately thought about myself and questioned if there was perhaps a piece of generational gene that I’d not inherited, because I had definitely not stayed with my generations’ music. As new music is released I have moved along with it and embraced it. Perhaps it was because, for most of my life I have been a musician.

Or maybe it was because I could hear the recycled riffs and shared melody from past compositions that bridged the music from the past to the present. But it was that thought that led me to Googling the question “Why do we love our own generations’ music best?”And that search eventually led me to this book.

This is Your Brain on Music is pretty hard book to argue. Written by multi-hatted Daniel Levitin, you have to accept that the man knows where he’s coming from. Among the non-music related things he’s worked at professionally are a diverse and somewhat eclectic list of jobs. He worked as an automobile mechanic and as a graphic designer - a typographer, a chauffeur, product manager, data analyst, dishwasher, computer operator, television repairman, fry cook, standup comedian, door-to-door salesman, camp counselor and wood stove salesman.

Then in his thirties he returned to school and studied cognitive psychology/cognitive science, first at Stanford University (he received his B.A. in 1992 with honors and highest university distinction) and then the University of Oregon where he received his M.Sc. (1993) and Ph.D. (1996). He completed post-doctoral fellowships at Paul Allen's Silicon Valley think-tank Interval Research, at the Stanford University Medical School, and at the University of California, Berkeley.

He has been a visiting professor at the University of California, Berkeley, Stanford University, Dartmouth College and Oregon Health Sciences University. As a cognitive neuroscientist specializing in music perception and cognition, he is credited with fundamentally changing the way that scientists think about auditory memory, showing that long-term memory preserves many of the details of perceptual experience that previous theorists regarded as lost during the encoding process, and with drawing attention to the role of cerebellum in music listening, including tracking the beat and distinguishing familiar from unfamiliar music.

He has worked with the likes of the Grateful Dead, Santana, Steely Dan, Chris Isaak, Joe Satriani – just the beginnings of a very lengthy list of musicians. He has won awards from the Sundance Film Festival and Venice Film Festivals, and returning to university in the 70’s.

On the sound effects side of things he worked at A Broun Sound in San Rafael, California, building speaker cabinets for The Grateful Dead, for whom he later worked as a consulting record producer. He was invited and became one of the golden ears used in the first Dolby AC audio compression tests, a precursor to mp3 audio compression.

I know one of the first things out of people’s mouths is to wonder how dry this book is. Admittedly, the first part is a bit, but it’s by no means something that would put you to sleep. Not by a long shot.

Daniel writes in the introduction:

“By better understanding what music is and where it comes from, we may be able to better understand our motives, fears, desires, memories and even communication in the broadest sense. Is music listening more along the lines of eating when you’re hungry, and thus satisfying an urge? Or is it more like seeing a beautiful sunset or getting a backrub, which triggers sensory pleasure systems in the brain? Why do people seem to get stuck in their musical tastes as they grow older and cease experimenting with new music? This is the story of how brains and music evolved --- what music can teach us about the brain, what the brain can teach us about music, and what both can teach us about ourselves”

You will find that Daniel can tell a very good story. He imparts many in this book and you begin to wish you could have been a fly on a lot of walls during some of the times he tells about. You also come to understand yourself a little better and understand about things such as ear worms, that which makes songs stick in our heads for much too long sometimes. He tells about finger snapping and toe tapping and how they differ from each other. And he tells about meeting and working with John R Pierce who had also been noted for his work while serving as vice president of research at Bell Labs in New Jersey. He relates how Pierce asks him to explain rock and roll music to him, something Pierce had never paid attention to and didn’t understand.

Pierce requested that Levitin come up with six rock and roll songs that he felt would capture the essence of rock and roll. No easy feat! Levitin’s offerings were

1. “Long Tall Sally” – Little Richard
2. “Roll Over Beethoven” – The Beatles
3. “All along the Watchtower” – Jimi Hendrix
4. “Wonderful Tonight” – Eric Clapton
5. “Little Red Corvette” – Prince
6. “Anarchy in the U.K.” - the Sex Pistols.

This list alone has you going over in your head which six songs would you have picked? And if any one of yours is among the ones he picked?

This book surprised me because I thought I’d pretty much had a full understanding of the impact music had on my brain. But he opened whole new thoughts about that by bringing a scientific perspective to it. I caution that this book does not read like a text book, but it does talk about research on how the brain processes music and discusses things like pitch, timbre, rhythm, loudness and harmony and how they affect the human body.

If you have any interest in music whatsoever, I think this should be a book on your MUST READ list.

There will be a parade...

2009-06-15T07:38:00.000-07:00

Pittsburgh once again celebrated her champions with a parade yesterday at noon, three days after the Penguins won Game 7 of the Stanley Cup against the Detroit Red Wings. Yes, there was that crowd of 27,565 welcoming them home from Detroit with the Cup, but the turnout for the parade well exceeded the projected 350,000. Pretty darn good for a predominantly football manically-minded city like Pittsburgh.

It’s funny but when you’re a sports fan, isn't everything is measured by big events instead of the usual hours, days, weeks and months? This victory parade also followed another such moment – the Steelers victory over the Arizona Cardinals in February of this year brought the Super Bowl championship title back to the 'Burgh as well. Now the Penguins, after a long 17-year wait, have brought the Stanley Cup back. How are the Pirates doing? Anyone know? Will this be a trifecta kind of year for that fair city, or will it only extend to the black and golds?

I can’t concern myself with any of that though, not in any large way at least. Yes, I love the city and wish everything good for it. But I am a hockey fan. Not a sports fan, but a hockey fan. My joy comes from the knowledge that my Penguins, my team in my adopted hometown have defied the odds and won the Stanley Cup.

What happened to the inevitable Wings win? The win everyone, sports gurus and hardcore fans included, said was going to happen? Absolutely no question in anyone’s mind. The Wings have experience on their side. They have premium players – not just two beginners, but many Olympic caliber star players. How could a Penguins team that was still too young and lacking in experience ever win the Cup? One year in the playoffs wasn’t going to serve them well enough. No, the Wings would come out of game seven with back to back Cup wins.

So then how come that young team was hoisting the Cup after game seven? Because they had some secret weapons, that’s why. One, they lost a player (Marian Hossa) who may have cost them the win, since he ended up playing for Detroit. And two, they got rid of a coach that was disliked and replaced him with one who actually cared about the team as a whole and not just one player. Dan Bylsma got a chance to prove he had the strength and spirit to propel this young team to the Cup. He did not disappoint. He put together a blueprint for a win which the team trusted and followed. These Penguins are more relentless than they are dramatic or resourceful. The genius of their plan is its simplicity.

That's something the Penguins gained firsthand knowledge of a year ago against the Red Wings.

Sensing an opportunity to capture the Stanley Cup qualified as one of those. Dan Bylsma dug deep into his inspirational repertoire while trying to capture the spirit of the thing.

As has been his habit before games, Bylsma scribbled a famous quote onto the grease board in the Penguins' dressing room Friday afternoon at Joe Louis Arena. Although movie quotes had often been a popular choice — recall the recent reliance upon "winners want the ball" from "The Replacements" — Bylsma chose the occasion of Game 7 against the Red Wings to revisit Penguins history.

When the players arrived this day in search of the franchise's third Stanley Cup, they were greeted by a declaration from the coach who had delivered their first.

"It's A Great Day For Hockey — Badger Bob Johnson."

For those who ventured to say a Penguins win may only be possible because of ‘the two-headed monster’ Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin, well, there was contribution from both, as expected. In fact, Evgeni Malkin won the Conn Smythe Trophy for MVP in the series.

But the unexpected winning goals came from equally unexpected players. Maxime Talbot with his ever present "heart on his sleeve" play and Rob Scuderi picking up the slack much of the series for a wandering Marc-Andre Fleury. Perhaps the Pens should have signed Scuderi as backup goalie instead of Mathieu Garon.

This all sounds so very like some scripted story out of Hollywood but it is the real deal.

These entire playoffs have been so much more than their hype, really. Pens. vs Flyers was supposed to be a bloodbath. Pens vs. Caps, too, had people talking about Crosby and Malkin's supporting cast not being enough to fend off the Alex Ovechkin and Alex Semin. Pens vs. Canes in the Eastern Conference finals saw the Staal brawl catchphrase pick up speed, but it ran it’s course and died a quiet death with the Penguins win over them. Then came the rematch.

The Wings with newly acquired ‘traitor’ Marian Hossa who left the Penguins to be on a Stanley Cup winning team… and for less money. Had Hossa stayed with the Penguins for more money, he may have won the Cup with them. Don’t think that didn’t make the Wings defeat just a bit sweeter for the Pens. But I say "may have won" because I'm not at all sure the Pens would have won with Hossa on their roster. His leaving allowed them to bring in the players who formed the team that won this championship.

"It's A Great Day For Hockey — Badger Bob Johnson."

And for the Penguins, these are the greatest days in hockey.

And as their fans lined the parade route today to thank them and cheer them, this hopefully will be the beginning of many more great days for a team that everyone said wasn't ready to win.

Moonalice

2009-04-27T20:51:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time in America, there were musicians who played the music they wanted to play. They didn’t follow musical fads, they created them. They had lots and lots of fun with that and we had lots of fun listening. They were based in California - more specifically San Francisco, but within a very short space of time, they were embraced by a continent of music lovers. Bands like Hot Tuna and Jefferson Airplane, evolving to Jefferson Starship, and of course the Eagles and Poco, Buffalo Springfield and just to name a very few.

Some of these bands have largely stayed together – others have disbanded and gone solo or started up new ventures. So it is with Moonalice.

Moonalice is a band/tribe (sic) comprised of musicians Jack Casady of Hot Tuna, Jesus H Moonalice, the incredible Barry Sless (David Nelson Band, Phil Lesh & Friends) on bass, guitar and pedal steel, Sir Sinjin Moonalice (British born Pete Sears, also from Hot Tuna, Rod Stewart Band, Jefferson Starship et al.) on bass and keys, Chubby Wombat Moonalice (Roger McNamee) on guitar, bass, Blue Moonalice, Ann McNamee (Flying Other Brothers, Ann Atomic) on angelic vocals and percussion, and finally, Barry Sless and Dawnman Moonalice, Jimmy Sanchez (Boz Scaggs, Bonnie Raitt) on drums.

Last and certainly not least is G.E. Smith. Leader of the Saturday Night Live Band for about ten years, he also toured with Hall & Oates for a number of years, plus played with Dylan, Jagger, and Bowie.

As the story goes, Moonalice is a Native American tribe that dates back to the beginning of time. In later times, the tribe evolved into two major clans, one agricultural, the other nomadic. The nomadic Moonalice clans were known as bands. They wandered the continent, surviving on their wits and music. Their specialty was low tones. From time to time, the Moonalice hippies and bands would gather in pow wows that were known as gigs. More Woodstock than livestock, Moonalice gigs were quintessentially American, combining the vibes of New York, San Francisco and all points in between. Moonalice legend speaks of a mysterious 7th player – a bass player, naturally – who possessed prodigious talent. It is said by those who say such things, that the day will come when all members of the tribe will play bass together. And on that day the notion of low will be taken to new depths. Or possibly the notion of depth taken to new lows. As with all things, it’s really a matter of perspective.

The band started out with mirth but on the right foot too, when they enlisted legendary producer T Bone Burnett to help transform the highly regarded Moonalice live sound into a recorded project. Can this album really go bad? Of course not.

Pseudonyms aside, this album will charm you. Moonalice’s debut harkens back to a simpler time – a time when the world too, was somewhat simpler. Every problem could be solved by making love, not war and every coming together of people was the simple sharing of anything you had to share. Love, hemp, opinion, and a hatred of ‘the establishment’.

For those of us who grew up on California folk rock with a psychedelic twist, this album is a breath of fresh air – what we know and love, albeit maybe not as soft as in those days of caftans and granny prints. I do think they’ll pick up a few new followers with this album though. How can they not?

I have to say I love this album. Hearing G. E. Smith master the Telecaster once again in the only way he can, was worth the cost of the album right there. But there are bonuses too - Jack Casady's legendary full driving tone and innovative melodic bass work was there as well, the stormy melodic lines & sweeping chord work that earned him a place in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. But aside from musical qualities they bring you great tunes as well. From the Mark Knofler-esque sounding’ "Kick It Open" to the haunting "Blink Of An Eye" this will definitely get many hours of play at our house. I highly recommend everyone give this a listen - once you have it certainly won't be your last.

Alexander Ovechkin - clever clown

2009-02-02T16:02:00.000-08:00

Once "O" for Oprah and Obama, now coming soon for Ovechkin. As things go, I could say this was expected.
The world eventually had to catch sight of Alexander Ovechkin because he, along with the current superstars of the NHL have been entertaining North Americans for a couple of years now. Just the mention of his name immediately inspires conversation of one degree or another. Some hate him...but not really, while others love him, myself included. Either way, there isn't a person on the North American continent who can say with conviction that they think he's untalented. The man is mind blowing in what he can do and with good spirit and a love and passion for the game like none other.

But he has an incredibly smart side too - one which so far has shown him making all his own business decisions and they are good ones. His own negotiations and long term signing with the Washington Capitals, to this latest signing with IMG Worldwide is not only smart for Ovie but for the sport of hockey in general. Long trailing behind other sports as the little brother with a loyal fan base, this may well be the one thing to open the words eyes to this exciting sport too. As it should. Yes, biased I may be, but there is no arguing that hockey is fast, exciting and has an amazing wealth of talent signed to the NHL.

IMG Worldwide, the premier global sports, media and entertainment company, announced today that it has signed hockey superstar Alex Ovechkin, for exclusive worldwide management, sponsorship, licensing and marketing representation.

Ovechkin, the 24 year-old Washington Capitals left wing, is one of the most talented and exciting players in the game today. Since bursting onto the scene in 2005, he has taken the NHL by storm, winning the Hart Memorial Trophy for Most Valuable Player for the past two seasons. He has also won the Lester B Pearson Award for 2008 and 2009 naming him MVP as voted on by his fellow players. He is only the fourth player in history to score more than 200 goals in the first four years of his career joining hockey icons Wayne Gretzky, Mario Lemieux and Mike Bossy. In July of this year, he was named “Official Ambassador” to the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia.

"We are very pleased to welcome Alex to the global team at IMG," said David Abrutyn, IMG’s Senior Vice President and Managing Director of Global Consulting. "He is clearly one of the world’s greatest athletes and one of the NHL's brightest stars. His electrifying play and charismatic personality will make him one of the most sought after athletes for companies and brands to grow their business. We are looking forward to working with Alex and his family, the Capitals and NHL to build the Ovechkin brand and the game of hockey around the world."

"As one of the most exciting players the game of hockey has seen, Alex has captured the imagination of fans around the globe and he is well on his way to establishing himself as one of the world's great sports icons," said Brad Pelletier, Senior Vice President and Managing Director of IMG Canada. "The excitement and personality he brings to the game is not only great for hockey, but also for his personal brand, which we look forward to working with him to grow around the world."

Following the 2008-2009 season he was awarded his fourth consecutive Kharlamov Trophy, honoring the best Russian NHL player as voted by other Russian NHL players. He finished the 2007-2008 season as the NHL leader in points (112) and goals (65), winning the Art Ross Trophy and the Rocket Richard Trophy, respectively. It was the first time in 41 seasons that a left-winger led the NHL in points and established an NHL record for goals by a left wing.

Ovechkin finished the 2008-09 NHL Season with 56 goals, winning his second Rocket Richard Trophy in as many years, joining Jarome Iginla and Pavel Bure as the third player to win the award twice, and the second player after Bure (2000-2001) to win the award in back-to-back seasons.

Out of the ashes - Baby is well

2009-01-19T10:11:00.000-08:00

Thank you Linda, for prodding me to do this. I may never have put any of this together without your asking.

Sometimes we need to just kick off our shoes...socks too, and grab the guitar, noodle around and do some simple stuff.

Upload MP3s using free MP3 hosting from Tindeck.

Maybe not quite as laid back as Grayson Capps, especially if you're female, but you get my gist? We complicate our music so many times and then wonder why it is we can't relax with it.

It's funny y'know, but from the moment I picked up my guitar so many years ago now, I wanted to play what I was listening to on the radio - or what I was hearing from my albums. Just exactly like I was hearing it. Little did I know as a kid that this stuff was multimixed! The sound was manipulated and the tracks layered! And then mixed some more.
I anguished for years, thinking I would never play as well as I wanted to. I had fun doing what I was doing but there was always that feeling of inadequacy - sad huh?

Well, fast forward a few more years to my band years. Though I was playing an acoustic guitar I was still required to use a pick up and amplify the guitar. Not the soft sound of thumb or plectrum on the strings - no, it still needed to be artificial sound.

Then an event happened that took even that minuscule talent away from me. A monumental event that sank me for a number of years. Many on you who read my blog regularly will know what I'm referring to, but for those who don't, I had a brain aneurysm which paralyzed my left side and meant learning all the things I'd learned as a baby over again - things like sit up, walk, talk and use my hand and arm again.

But I've always been resilient - I don't take any credit for that - I just am. And my determination to get better made many of these things return fairly fast. Within four years I was doing everything again and while not climbing mountains or playing hockey due to an noncomplying leg, I am in the process of learning to play my guitar again. Perhaps the luck of the genes.
But whatever it is, I'm now in the long process of climbing out of that damn deep pit I was put in.
Odd too, because I truly believe that if my dear old guitar hadn't been hurt bad, I may never have attempted coming back from my own hurt. There you have it though - the mystery of the way life works sometimes. From something bad comes something better. You hear people say it all the time, and probably have even given that advise out yourself, but until it hits home, you don't realize just how true it can be.

Once I got my guitar fixed I could not wait to play it again. But being a 45 year old instrument it needed a little more than just the cracks mended and a shine up. As I soon learned, there was also a matter of tuning keys that actually tuned. The old ones slipped, or snarled and wouldn't turn. Yes, we can buy those things in any good music store, but what do shiny new and modern pegs look like on an old guitar? Not right. Not at all! I did not want to replace 1964 tuning mechanisms with 2009 anything!

So I wrote to the Framus company in Germany asking them if they could recommend a place for me to get replacements. After some correspondence with historian and descendant of the Framus founders family, Dr. Christian Hoyer, I was told that, yes, they were happy to announce - they could replace them for me themselves! They needed to see photos of my guitar as well as the tuners themselves and they would go from there. They still had access to them from their shop in Markneukirchen Germany.
Not only that, but because my guitar is a model they don't have in their museum, they were interested in having pictures of mine for the museum as well as a second edition of Dr. Hoyer's book about the Framus company - Framus: Built in the Heart of Bavaria.

The tears I'd shed at seeing my guitar destroyed by careless people became tears of joy. And so now thanks to the expediency of the Framus company the tuners are sitting beside my guitar awaiting installation. It cannot happen too soon!

Thank you so much Dr. Christian Hoyer for your assistance in this. Without your help, the guitar would be destined to sit idle, a reminder of things that used to be.

In the meanwhile though, while waiting, I was still without any guitar at all. Nothing to play...not any way to make my fingers work or make music at all, complicated or otherwise - Without a guitar, even a simply two chord lilt was impossible. So something had to be done.

Since I've played a 12 string guitar for most of my life, there were times I thought I'd like to invest in a six string as well, but finances never allowed that to happen. And I would absolutely never give up the 12 string for a six. Once you get all that sound from a guitar you're just not willing to give it up.

So - while all this was happening, Christmas was approaching and someone in my life was taking serious notes of all this. Subsequently on Christmas morning I found myself the happy owner of my new Martin D-18. If someone had told me five years ago that any of this was possible I know I would have rolled my eyes and thought them a bit daft. Well, guess who was wrong? And guess who is very happy to announce they were wrong?

This post is a bit of a ramble I know, but I just wanted to tie up some loose ends and remind people that there is always a silver lining to things even if it looks bleak. Never assume that reaching the bottom means you will stay there.
Now if you don't mind, I think I will go and make a little music...

There's noone as Irish as Barack Obama...

2008-11-09T07:09:00.000-08:00

I knew I was feeling an unconscious reason to vote for Barack too....

A new president, a new precedent...

2008-11-06T11:42:00.000-08:00

How can I possibly find something new to say after these last few days? It's virtually impossible now that everyone has had a chance to put their spin on events of the last days, so maybe just a few of my own words on how I feel about everything. And how we all finally got here in one piece.

I had written a blog some months back saying I was disappointed in Oprah Winfrey for putting her support behind Barack Obama. That post was gravely misunderstood and I immediately regretted not being clearer in what I was trying to say. I had been questioning how quickly Oprah backed Obama after so many years of saying we needed female representation in Washington and women should vote for a woman given the opportunity.

The opportunity arose and Oprah didn't do what she'd been asking of others because the woman candidate, Hillary Clinton had an opponent who was an African American man. Oprah dropped everything she'd been advocating over the years and put her support behind him. For one reason - he was black.
I felt she was setting a terrible example for others, especially in lieu of what she'd been preaching to her hordes and because the very last reason a person should vote for an individual is because of his or her color.

I eventually changed my thinking on the issue because I realized that it was just as bad for her to be asking someone to vote for a woman based solely on that one fact as well. We hopefully choose people for what they stand for, what they can bring to bear and how well we think they will do in a position of leadership. Not gender - not skin color, but ability, integrity and honestly.

However, I do not want to rehash that old post. It's past - it's done for whatever reasons Oprah gives for it now. She's a happy woman. I'm a happy woman.

I am thrilled that Barack Obama is our 44th president of the United States.
It's not that I think Hillary would have been a bad president - I backed her initially and I don't doubt her capability if she'd stayed in and gone on to be president. After all, she would have Bills experience as president to draw on as well as his wealth of knowledge from those years.

But I love what has happened now! I love that history was made. I love that I stood for over two hours in the teeming rain to help make it happen. I love that we have dared to take the first tiny step over racial lines and thumb our noses at racism and recognize a person who is ideal for our times. The world looked on and rejoiced along with us. Did we regain our respect around the world? I would say we did quite a bit. The world too, recognized what we were trying to achieve and now it's up to us to prove this wasn't just a single fluke, a blip or lapse from the same ol' inbred politics of the past. It looks like America may have finally grown up at last. No more bogeymen under the bed. No more running scared because a candidate says we'll all die if we don't get him into office post haste.

And the YouTube propaganda couldn't put dent in the glacial move to make this happen. Fear mongering, while still rattling some, didn't work this time. People wanted change and they weren't buying into the threats "we're all gonna die". Or that Obama was the Antichrist. Or that he was the number one evil incarnate because he happened to have the middle name Hussein.

When I see things such as this being said, I have a better understanding of how we ended up having eight years of George W. Bush. Stupidity prevails no matter how hard we try to educate. One example: using names as a measure of good or evil. Well then, it's certainly good we didn't end up with John McCain. For all those fearful prophets reading doom into the name Hussein, let me give you bigger things we could have worried about! John!!! Yes, John McCain. You want stupid logic? Here's a bunch! According to this thought pattern a man named John would have certainly brought our nation to utter ruin. I mean just look at history, it's all right there. There was John Wayne Gacey. And John Wilkes Booth, John Gotti, John Dillinger, John George Haigh known as the 'Acid Bath Murderer' in the UK.

Oh yes, and let's not forget John Hinckley Jr. and John Schrank who attempted to kill Teddy Roosevelt. All just evil Johns. Can you see how dumb that line of thinking really is? Yet there were people wringing their hands and sending out email warnings about this 'omen' - this sign of all that is bad.
Furthermore, why not think about a great man like the late King Hussein instead? How did a name, Hussein, become a bad word? Who stole this name and corrupted it to mean radical Muslim terrorist? Utter nonsense, sorry.

A name doesn't make a man. A man makes a name for himself! I expect that our new president will make a fine name for himself if given the chance and that includes help from us, the people who will benefit the most from supporting him now. He has what he's coined as 'the audacity of hope'. I do too. I know that together, we can make this nation great once more.

Yes, we can.

And so after all of this, we can't always be somber - a little levity is in order - if you're Irish anyway - like Barack Obama. What, you say? Oh yes! He's as Irish as Paddy's tam - just give a listen - O'Click here.

Alexei, I didn't even get to know you...

2008-10-14T11:06:00.000-07:00

Gone at 19...

The shock of death is something we all know, man and beast alike. But when it steals someone from us that simply should not be gone, we stand baffled and confused by it. Grief, wishing to turn back time just a little to make it untrue. A mistaken report.

"He was an exceptionally talented kid," Grossman said. "He played in the Russian Elite League, in the men's league, even before he was drafted which in and of itself is an achievement. He was a self-motivated kid that had an inner confidence about him."

"He just laid back, passed out and went kind of white," - Alexei Cherepanov dead at age 19.
No! This makes no sense at all!

Sometimes there just are no adequate words and I won't try to come up with any. This is just so wrong on such an enormous scale. My condolences to his family. I can't imagine their pain right now...

R.I.P. Alexei. You touched my soul for whatever reasons I do not know, and the person who put together the YouTube video using Fix You by Coldplay must have felt the same way, because this song has always touched my soul too.

This old guitar of mine...

2008-10-09T20:42:00.000-07:00

This week or the next I will finally be reunited with my guitar. My best friend for so many years, my beautiful Framus 12 string guitar. Listed as the Texan by the company, so many people referred to it as the Hummingbird that Framus finally changed the listing in their catalog to the Hummingbird. While the bird on the Framus pick guard isn't really a hummingbird, but really some sort of songbird, the shape of the guard and the flowers on it are very much like that of the Gibson Hummingbird.

I've had this guitar with me what seems like forever, but in reality 35 years. It is one of my things that I always took good care of, making sure it was always cleaned and polished, even if I wasn't using it and keeping the wood hydrated. No dust ever dare try to lay on it for long.

It was the third guitar that I'd owned, my first being a student guitar, a black flattop Harmony - 'the peoples guitar' they touted it at the time. I often wondered "as opposed to what?" That guitar came with a 25 year warranty and was sold through Sears with their Silvertone name on it. It was a surprisingly nice sounding guitar for it's price tag, maybe a bit scratchy, but otherwise okay for $90.00.

As a kid I thought I had the best guitar that money could buy.
I don't know if mine would have made it the 25 years or not but it didn't matter because I sold it to buy a Gibson LG1.

The LG1 and I did not get along at all. It was a sort of clunky sounding little 3/4 guitar that had neck rod problems we were never able to get fixed. One song and I was having to tune - that did get rather old very fast.

So a dear friend of mine, who happened to own a music store, called me in and presented me with my Framus. He thought it was the best guitar I could have for the type of thing I did on guitar and he was right on the money. I bonded with my baby immediately and I've never looked back.

So fast forward to today and getting my guitar fixed after our last move back to the east from Vegas. The guitar was so mishandled by the moving company, having been left in 100 degree heat unprotected for nearly nine months, it split down the center of the face.
*all photos may be enlarged by clicking on them ~

I was beside myself when it arrived wrapped in only a sheet of newspaper, nothing else, even tho' the company, Puliz Moving and Storage, [remember that name] assured us the guitar would be specially grated and kept in air conditioned storage, it was more than evident that never happened. As an aside, Puliz damaged more of our belongings in this one move than any of our other seven moves combined. If you need to move anywhere, you need to avoid this company like the plague.
And so began a long saga of fighting with their insurance company to have the guitar fixed.

Since they were refusing, I sought out a man here on my own in Pennsylvania...Bangor PA to be exact. Mr Fred Castner. The guitar has not left my side in 35 years! I didn't want it replaced - I wanted my guitar in the condition they received it in. I want you to remember this name too, Castner Guitar Repair, because not only is this man an expert at his craft, but working with him has been a delight from beginning to end.
In today's world, with all the businesses that won't give an inch, or live up to their promises, how refreshing it is to find a person like Fred who will go the extra mile and then some, to get it right! He has kept me abreast of every step of the way in the restoring process. I have received daily reports and he's asked for my input at times if in doubt about what I expect.

How could you ask for anything better in business?
~the seemingly innocent looking crack~
The progress pictures arrived compliments of Fred's wife Regina and I am thrilled at what I am seeing so far! I can't post all the pictures, but I will give you a sampling and trust me, the remaining photos show a beautiful guitar emerging again thanks to talented hands.

~prepping for the lacquer

~the crack is mended and sealed.

~another look before polishing it up

And so now I'm counting the hours til I have it back again. Any guesses as to what song I will attempt to play on it first? Isn't it obvious?

I'm intending to add to this as the time nears to bring it home too, so please drop by again. Sorta like awaiting a new baby, isn't it?

Saturday, October 18, 2008 - homecoming day -

There was the sign just ahead at the roadside. The sign reads Castner Guitar Repair. Should also read “Miracle worker slash all round great guy!” I am still in awe of what he has worked with my guitar.

My heart started hammering as we pulled into the drive and it hit me that this was the day I was picking up my guitar to bring it home again.
We met Fred at the door and he took us into the shop and presented the guitar to me – and no, for those of you that know me, I didn’t cry. But it was an uphill battle not to.

~ No, it's not your eyes, it's hubby's eyes. The pix are blurry. He says he doesn't need to wear his glasses.

The guitar is so beautiful, as you can see.

Once I got it home, he & I went over a few tunes together - songs that I thought may be easy for me to pick up again. Now I have blisters on my fingers! Trust me when I say it’s been a long, long time since that’s happened, but I welcome it so much. And it didn't take too long either!

I was so relieved to find out I may have been worrying needlessly about my fingers not working. It will be like learning over again, I'm sure, but at least I can learn over…and with one advantage. This time I have the chords all in my head, I just have to send them all that back to my fingers.

I’m pretty confident that once I rebuild my calluses, I’m gonna be okay. Something I didn’t think about though, was the rest of my hand - my wrist will need some work because that is one wide neck, I tell ya! I had forgotten. I'm not a guitar weenie so I'm not sure of the measurements, but I believe the average 'at the nut' measurement for a guitar neck is 1 3/4" to 1 11/16" wide. Mine is 1 14/16ths"! That's quite a span for a female type hand, but ya do what ya gotta do! Life's little challenges, y'know?

And I will do it again, in fact already doing it, just awkwardly, but I’m not going for best looking guitar player so it doesn’t really matter! Wish me luck everybody. I will try to give a 6 month report on my progress.

And if you ever have a guitar that needs repair or refinishing, or know someone that does, keep Fred in mind, because as you can see you will not be disappointed.

An Evening With Jackson Browne...

2008-09-19T09:19:00.000-07:00

Aah, where to begin? I had the distinct pleasure of taking in what was to be my seventh Jackson Browne concert at the Tower Theater in Philly on Thursday night. Even the Tower itself is renowned for past performers like the Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen, James Taylor, U2, the Dave Mason Band. In fact, David Bowie played the Tower as his first ever in the USA concert. Paul Simon appeared there more than a few times and even a part of his One Trick Pony tour was recorded there, along with the VHS tape for marketing. An aging theater which I pray someone will restore to it's former beauty before it's too late. Just it's aura alone...but I digress.

What could possibly be left to say about this truly amazing, one of a kind man, Jackson Browne? No surprises he would be making an appearance at the Tower again. While he seems ageless from afar, he isn't, but he still has that boyishness that endears you to him.

I expected to see him appear sporting the beard that he had at Sundance Music Festival, and on the cover of Time The Conqueror, his new cd. But he surprised us once again when he quietly strolled onstage, like always no introduction and no pretension; no rock and roll attitude or 'sit up listen now, I'm a big star' personae. Just his familiar clean shaven face, the one I've known all these years, giving the audience his patented shy 'hi'. He came front and center and did what he's done for as long as I've followed him - enjoyed his audience as much as they enjoyed him.
That is one thing I've always admired about him - his rapport with his audience. He will laugh and talk with everyone - joking about himself and the situations he's found himself in as well.

We didn't have to sit through an opening band either. Jackson was all the opening band anyone in the theater wanted. He started the show with 'Boulevard' and seemingly played without any kind of set list, playing what popped into his head, although I'm sure there is a loosely structured one - there has to be, if you're going to play for three hours. He typically does and didn't disappoint this time either.

He joked, “I’m struggling with the self-knowledge that I’m lazy enough to just stand up here and do whatever you guys tell me to do.” While he doesn’t quite do that, he will kid with the person asking for a song that it was the best way to get him not to do that particular song.
The song of course, will show up a bit further in the show.
But this is his style and it allows him to occasionally take requests from the audience, which in turn gives him an opportunity to do the archival songs he may not otherwise get to do.

One song from the newly released cd was 'The Drums Of War'. The audience, up til then had been animated - swaying, dancing or singing along. But when the first drum-laden bars of this tune began, a hush fell over everyone and they just listened -rapt. If this is any indication of the contents of Time The Conqueror, Jackson has another hit album on his hands.

He had his longtime band with him also - Kevin McCormick (bass), Mark Goldenberg (guitars), Mauricio “Fritz” Lewak (drums) and Jeff Young (keyboards and backing vocals).

However, there were two new additions who are also on the new cd are backup singers. Chavonne Morris and Alethea Mills are two vocalists Jackson met in early 2001 while working with Washington Preparatory High School located in South Central Los Angeles. These girls are absolutely worth the price of the ticket on their own! They are one of the best things Jackson has done.

Lastly, he finished things off with I Am A Patriot and reminded everyone to get out and vote - and even with good reasons to talk about political things and law suits, he made no mention of candidates or policies being presented.

Having been to so many of his concerts now, there are so many little stories I could regale you with about him and how he chooses to conduct himself onstage. I think the thing I like best though, was never before more evident than it was last night - Jackson is true to form and has been since he appeared on the scene in the mid 1970's with the song that got my attention - Doctor My Eyes, and for me there was no turning back.

He really has proven he's conquered his time and not the other way around. His vocal chords don't yet know they'll be celebrating their 60th year on this planet October 9th.

As I said, a truly amazing man.

For myself, I will leave you with the song that went straight to my heart and is still my favorite today - Late For The Sky. I could have written these words about my own situation at the time myself, had I been talented enough. And one day, I'm sure I'll get through the whole song without crying.

United Nations says Eat Less Meat

2008-09-11T13:35:00.000-07:00

Well now, here's a new twist on why to give up eating our animal friends - do it to combat global warming. I like that! One more reason to consider this healthy life style even tho' this one will have people scratching their heads or snickering behind their hands.

Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change Chairman, Rajendra Pachauri

To combat global warming, Dr Rajendra Pachauri, head of the United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, advises, "Give up meat for one day [a week] initially, and decrease it from there." Pachauri is a vegetarian himself, and points out that greenhouse gas emissions and habitat destruction are associated with animal agriculture.

To most animal advocates, this is old news. Even to the United Nations, this is old news.

Sadly, some environmentalists still have their heads [politely] in the sand when it comes to this issue. Rain forest Action Network found that holding vegetarian events alienated some of the people they wanted to work with, including some of their own staff.

To Al Gore, the role of animal agriculture in global warming is the most inconvenient truth.

Most people don't think of global warming as an animal rights issue, but global warming is a threat to all wild and domestic animals. Anthony Marr, an animal rights activist and author of "Homo Sapiens, Save Your Earth!" is dedicating his life this year to this issue.

Of course, being vegan is better than being vegetarian from both an environmental and animal rights standpoint. Buying eggs and dairy products would still support animal agriculture.

Freegan living is probably the most earth-friendly way to get your daily bread and other commodities. By utilizing food and other products that are discarded by others, freegans truly minimize their ecological footprint.

My thanks to Doris Lin for her article at About.com

This topic seems to be hitting the internet all at the same time and I can't be happier to see it getting attention even though some of that attention will be negative.

Another article, this time from Juliette Jowit, environment editor of The Observer in the UK, says

'His [Rajendra Pachauri's] comments are the most controversial advice yet provided by the panel on how individuals can help tackle global warning. Perhaps so, but then it's always been the radicals who have made the changes in our world and most of them have been good.

However, he also stressed other changes in lifestyle would help to combat climate change. 'That's what I want to emphasize: we really have to bring about reductions in every sector of the economy.'

Pachauri can expect some vociferous responses from the food industry to his advice, though last night he was given unexpected support by Masterchef presenter and restaurateur John Torode, who is about to publish a new book, John Torode's Beef. 'I have a little bit and enjoy it,' said Torode. 'Too much for any person becomes gluttony. But there's a bigger issue here: where [the meat] comes from. If we all bought British and stopped buying imported food we'd save a huge amount of carbon emissions.'

Tomorrow, Pachauri will speak at an event hosted by animal welfare group Compassion in World Farming, which has calculated that if the average UK household halved meat consumption that would cut emissions more than if car use was cut in half.

The group has called for governments to lead campaigns to reduce meat consumption by 60 per cent by 2020.

Campaigners have also pointed out the health benefits of eating less meat. The average person in the UK eats 50g of protein from meat a day, equivalent to a chicken breast and a lamb chop - a relatively low level for rich nations but 25-50 per cent more than World Heath Organisation guidelines.

Professor Robert Watson, the chief scientific adviser for the Department for Environment Food and Rural Affairs, who will also speak at tomorrow's event in London, said government could help educate people about the benefits of eating less meat, but it should not 'regulate'. 'Eating less meat would help, there's no question about that, but there are other things,' Watson said.

This article in it's entirety can be read by going to

There are many places addressing this as I've mentioned already. To see them I've listed them here for however the links are hot. Forgive me if they pull the piece before you've had a chance to read it.
There is the Time article, in partnership with CNN.
And BBC World News America.
Also The Telegraph.

In fact, just about everywhere I've gone in the last few days, people and papers have been talking about this. It seems the threat of taking away peoples 'meat' is having a profound impact on everyone and it's funny to me how it took something like global warming and going green to perhaps force people to be humane.

Birthin' bears - Confessions of a Teddy Bear creator

2008-09-03T19:00:00.000-07:00

~ Mama Bear Marta gives a warm welcome to all ~

I have elected to let Marta do the formal greeting and introduction. She's always had such a smart way with words. Being the most cultured and highly respected matron of the house, she makes sure the rowdier denizens keep their manners.
She and Marigold rein in the upstart boys, both of a feline and ursine persuasion. I wouldn't have it any other way. There will be no clambering for laps to sit on, nor will they toss themselves about the beds.

~ Marigold Lockes, Goldie to her closest friends ~

So just what is a "teddy bear creator?" you may ask. Well, there may be some variations on how we define the term, but in general - a bear creation is a bear created from scratch by just one person. And our bears are not toys but are Artist Teddy Bears made exclusively for collectors...though I have made exceptions for very young 'collectors', using a more durable and cleanable material and making sure that things like eyes and ears don't come loose from excessive loving.

There are no assembly lines in my craft room, neither are there anyone else's patterns for the most part - just taking ideas from what's in my head, by way of my memories and then creating it from the materials I put together.

My exception to this was in my beginning when I got a classic 1903 teddy bear pattern and modified it to my own liking. That and the pattern I found in a Peggy and Alan Bialosky book I brought home from the library. Oh, how hard those first bears were to make back then, but how quickly I learned by simply having a love for the task!

As artist bear creators, first we need to design our pattern, draw it out onto the fur - I like to use German mohair, but I've sometimes used good quality synthetics. Then cut out the pieces, pin, sew, stuff and assemble the bear itself. It's always important to take special care creating the faces. Others have referred to the face as "the soul" of the teddy bear and I concur. I cannot name my bears until I see his or her face, at which time introductions are made.

So here I go off on yet another adventure - but not a new one, oh no! Not at all! It is the reinstatement of my teddy bear business. I find myself yearning to once again create something that someone can love. And those with teddies know the feeling is mutual, but it's a guarded secret to protect all involved. From the first teddy who held us up when we took our first tentative steps, to the bear who whispered in our ear that they'd be right there waiting at home when we returned from our first day of school and the bear who we perhaps soaked with our tears as we told them about the anticipated date that didn't happen.

Creating bears was something that I've had to put on a back burner for far too many years and I've missed it greatly. The joy of creating a small furry being, watching the little faces emerge and introduce themselves to me...a feeling like none other!

The fun of making the paws just the right 'plump' - the ears set just right...the nose...aaah, the beacon of the friendly face, all sleek & shiny.

And deciding on a ribbon. Plaid, striped, patterned or plain satin? Over sized or understated? Tails? Bow or knot? Or beads! What about a strand of beads for the little girlie bear? Or a lacy battenburg collar with a pretty clasp! You see that even here as I post about the creation I'm already opining on options. It is an obsession but one that all adds up to Herr Bears personae when the deed is complete. Those are the easy things - the dressing up and dressing down...a look of aristocracy or a woodsy denizen. I'm ready to dive into this. In fact, more than eager to begin tomorrow if I could.

But there is still so much yet to do before I can proceed! So much homework to see how things are done today as opposed to my older methods. I have discovered a plethora of talent out there. I am humbled by the workmanship I see. I can't hope to compete, but only bring something different to the 'adoption tables'. Over the course of the last few days I've visited so many wonderful sites and I want to give them their just due by mentioning them here. As an appreciator of all things bear, I would be remiss in not at least doing that.

The first I found, and most helpful as well, was Teddies By Laura Lynn. Laura has put together a wonderfully informative site which I spent the better part of an afternoon pouring over. Being a bear creator lends nothing to knowing how to use WEBPLUS X2 I'm afraid. This is a new learning curve embedded in that old one.

The second site I liked very much was The Vintage Magpie, a wonderful place that will take you back to times past. And another...oh my competition is strong, tho' I don't think of them that way, is Jennylovesbenny. Jenny's creations are so sweet and conjure visions of pretty tea cups and berries and cream in a delicate china bowl. I will be listing these creator/artists' site on my site as well.

In years past, I always shopped locally for my bits and pieces. All the makings were relatively close at hand. And I had a shop to sell my bears in, or a consignment shelf in others shops, and it was just the right pace for me in an otherwise busy life. Now Jenny has provided me with the things I will need.
So here we are again - moving around from country to country, city to city and state to state the last 25 years hasn't allowed me to have an outlet long term, so I'm now about to try my hand on the internet. Watch for my new upcoming website where you may browse the pages and pick who you'd like to adopt and bring some whimsy and warmth to your home.

And there, as here I also hope to include a little of the history of bears, and have links to places where you can enjoy a tale or a poem two.

Hopefully it will all be ready soon, this place that's so new I haven't even a name yet.

Or why not search by creator? Use the following link for that.

And best of all, a place to talk about life with bears, and load up on ideas and supplies to bring those ideas to life. Now it doesn't get much better than that!

Professor Randy Pausch Died Today - Fri July 25, 2008

2008-08-08T07:12:00.000-07:00

Some things are just so hard to accept, but if Randy could, then I guess we all should. This was to be Randy's last lecture. He knew it and approached it as he did everything else, with humor, grace and a resignation that some things can't be changed so don't whine about it. Just accept it as part of the whole package called life.

I don't think he truly knew his greatness as a teacher and lecturer, but he held me rapt on a few occasions. I related to him because, like him, I wanted nothing more than to grow up and go work for Disney. I was consumed by that dream as a kid. Neither of us achieved that dream, but I feel he ended up doing something so much better.

This is Randy's last lecture at Carnegie Mellon in Pittsburgh. It is 76 minutes long, but don't fear it's length or worry that it's maudlin or sad - it is neither. He talks about becoming an imagineer and learning to do electronic arts -he talks of his childhood, his parents, the people that influenced him both growing up and as an adult, and there is so much for us to learn just by listening [and watching] as he relates all this to us. Please take this time to enrich your life by getting to know Randy, even if it is posthumously.

RIP Randy. I still have the aquarium screen saver and the kitties and I are still enjoying it today.

The words of a child...

2008-04-27T06:44:00.000-07:00

I know what those who know me are going to be saying right now. 'Oh oh, the Tree Hugger is at it again'. Well yes, they're right. She is. As I drag my little soapbox over to stand on, I want to share this powerful video with you.

Can you watch and listen to her words and not feel a little shame, sadness or some guilt? Unless you are guiltless of any of the things she talks about, then you should be ashamed and sad...and feeling guilty.

We talk about making a better world for our children, and their children after them - but we wait for someone else to do that for us. We're too busy buying and disposing of the things we're tired of - last years 'had to have' items are now this years donation or trash.
And our lawns and properties...make them beautiful on the surface, as we kill what's underneath. Poisoning the earth and the waters - and our animals - and our children!

Others try to make a difference - to change attitudes and try and compel us to care for Mother Earth as we sit idly by clucking our tongues and saying how awful things are getting but never making any effort to change them ourselves.

What will it take to make a difference? Will it be the heartfelt words of just one single child? I wish I had more faith in mankind to believe it will because I don't think the words of even a million children would make a difference. But like anything in this life, we can live in the hope that one thing may just sink in before it's too late for all of us. Will it be this girls plea that makes that happen?

Living With Kitty - Times Three

2008-03-27T10:20:00.000-07:00

Oh yeah! Times this by three & you have my mornings! I suspect it even might include a bat, which might explain the pounding headaches some mornings.

This is a wonderful little piece of work entitled 'Wake Up Cat' and was done by the English animator Simon Tofield. Mr. Tofield works for an animation company called Tandem Films. This film won Best Comedy at the British Animation Awards. I just fell in love with it, hitting so close to home as it does.

Also the evening ritual...or afternoon, or morning or mid morning or...well I think you have the picture - the program you want to see comes at a time that just isn't appropriate for kitty.

And then of course there's the "let me in situation", which in Simon's video, the kitty actually does cross the threshold and come in. At our house, that's rarely the case. At out house they pat and paw, stretch and rub against the glass, mewing plaintively until someone takes pity and puts down whatever they're doing to goes to let them in. At which time kitty looks at us as if we're totally daft then turns and walks in the other direction. I think they are programmed to do these things. .

We used to have a kitty by the name of Dobie. Dobie wasn't allowed 'outside' outside, but was allowed in our screened-in porch. And 95% of the time, this was the best of both worlds for him...a place to enjoy the breeze and smell the smells, occasionally chasing an insect who was unfortunate enough to think the screened-in porch was a great safe place to take up residence. Dobie lived for those moments and was quite happy in his inside outdoors - until some human had to go to the outside 'outside' and mow the lawn or rake the leaves. This was unacceptable behavior! Leaving him behind while they walked in the grass? Gack, no!

He needed to work out some deal here so he was included in the excursion. First was the caterwaul. Well, that didn't work! All the human did was move further away from the screen so he wasn't heard! There needed to be some way of attracting attention. Running up and down the screen? Well that worked when we were tiny but resulted only in getting hollered at as he got larger...something about 'don't rip the screen, bad boy!' or something like that.

Okay, so tears in the screen weren't acceptable - humans have so many rules - 95% of them inane. So how about a pluck? He would pick-pick on the screen to get our attention and if that didn't work he would stand on his head. A fella's gotta do what a fella's gotta do.

I sure miss you, Dobie. You were truly one of a kind. I think of all those times I told you to be a good boy and get down off that screen and I would suck it all back right now for just one hour more with you. RIP my beauty. Having just four short years to share with you was not nearly enough time. I hope there are plastic springs in heaven and angels who know how to play 'fetchies'.

The Las Vegas Wranglers

2008-03-25T15:17:00.000-07:00

That's hockey spelled F-U-N! There's almost nothing I miss about living in Vegas except the occasional show, some good eateries we discovered & named ours - and my boys. My Wranglers. I loved this team and I won't lie to you. I'm living in a virtual hockey nation right now but I miss going to see the Wranglers a couple of times a week. Seasons tickets & the pregame parties - meeting up with friends at the games...we were a family of 7000.

Anyone who thought Vegas wouldn't be able to do hockey right? Let me correct you. They made it a total arm waving, throat rasping riot! Elvis singing Viva Las Vegas every time the Wranglers scored, the intermission shows, the arena buffets, the giveaways...yeah, they had their own brand of hockey but it worked for me & I'm a pretty traditional fan.

Exile In America

2008-02-20T14:23:00.000-08:00

A Matchbox Twenty concert review.

Well, they are back with a vengeance, and ask me if I could be happier?

I got to attend my sixth Matchbox Twenty concert last night at the Sovereign Arena in Reading PA. There are two things I will say about the groups’ performance Tuesday night. The first is – damn good to have them back! And second, kudos to them for the subtle changes they’ve make in the interim that have improved them in all the right places.

If someone had told me a few years ago I’d be saying this, I would have guffawed them. Because, in my opinion, the band was already just about as close to perfection as they were going to get. Yes of course, the bias of a fan speaking, but minor tweaking over this 'time-out' has led to more than a few minor changes and overall, to a more professional sound for the band.

First is the addition of drummer Ryan McMillan setting a really rock-solid bottom line. Switching Paul Doucette to rhythm guitar from drums has worked out very well.

Also the lighting for this show was designed to focus us on lead singer Rob Thomas. Whether this came as a surprise to new fans, or upset long time ones, I'm not sure. But recurrence of a thematic lighting scheme persisted throughout the concert, and it was done superbly.

In all twenty five songs of their set, the spotlight — or spotlights — constantly shone brightest on Rob. In fact, there were moments where a sheer black curtain was dropped from the rafters, dividing him from the rest of the band members and they were only silhouetted behind him.
A rather impressive visual as Rob himself held the multi-kilowatt beam to himself.

Having said that, I don’t believe for a moment that this was any kind of prima donna predisposition on the part of Rob, but more a case of a lighting dynamic designed to give the backing members an air of mystique, which it achieved beautifully. Having followed the band since the days when they were known as Tabitha’s Secret, I feel this was a spotlight technique used as a visual tool to preserve Rob's status, not just as the voice, but the face of Matchbox Twenty.

The evening opened with a new group, Mute Math – an electro-rock quartet out of New Orleans. They spent a half hour trying to dazzle with loud sounds and blinding strobes, giving some in the audience a chance to refresh their drinks before settling down again. In their favor, they had some uniqueness. But I was glad I was only subjected to a half hour of it.

After a short break we were treated to Alanis Morrisette. I've never been a huge fan of hers. I'm not saying she's bad, just not my type of music. Alanis played an hour-long set that included almost all of her breathy, exasperated vocal-driven songs — minus "Head Over Feet" — plus her haunting, yet amusing spoof of the Black Eyed Peas' "My Humps." And of course "Jagged Little Pill." One thing's for sure: her songs of a woman's relationship discontent resonated soundly with the disproportionately female audience.

I think it admirable that MB20 invited her to join their tour, but she didn't appeal to their audience. She had a following there though, sitting down front so she sang primarily to them.

Then finally MB20 came out to a resounding welcome from the audience. And we weren’t to be disappointed! The band is touring in support of their new album, Exile on Mainstream. In fact, they opened their show with a rousing rendition of "Let's See How Far We've Come," their latest hit single from that album.

From there, the concert moved into a shuffle of hit songs and new album cuts. Since the album is basically a greatest hits album with six new songs added, most of the concert gave fans what they wanted to hear — their favorites re-worked but remaining pretty much as they were the first time around. In between filler material, people perpetually yelled out for staples like "3 a.m.," "Unwell," or "Push" (the last song of the evening.)
And, to no one's surprise, as always, the band didn't disappoint.

Highlights of the concert included the last song before the encore. "Bright Lights," opened with a solo blues riff from guitarist Kyle Cook, which moved into a momentous rock version of the hit song. But before they wrapped up, the band broke into the first couple of verses of the Beatles' "She Came in Through the Bathroom Window" before circling back into the closing notes of "Bright Lights."

Another highlight was Rob taking a video camera from a woman in the front row & videoing the band for her, turning the camera on himself at one point and singing to it/her. Something I’m sure we will see on YouTube before long.

Finally, the most important thing to note is the band has kept everything they’ve always had going for them, like their rapport with their audience and their ability to do their songs from years back and never make them sound tired. But now, they’ve added a sweet glossing of professionalism that caps them off. I recommend to anyone, if you haven’t already, buy tickets and don’t miss this one.

Evgeni does English

2008-02-12T14:52:00.000-08:00

We've waited for Evgeni Malkin to do his first English interview and here it is. While not a sit-down talk with a reporter, it is a conversation all in English without the aid of an interpretor. Very good Geno! The confidence you show on the ice has obviously given you the confidence to tackle your first statement to the press alone and you handled it like you do the puck - with aplomb.

It all began this way...

2008-01-16T08:56:00.000-08:00

A person had to suspect that something special was taking form when they sat rink side and watched a 14 year old Sidney Crosby making older players look silly. Not only that, but the maturity to hold an interview which also could make some older players today look pretty silly too.

Now I don't see much difference in listening to him then as he is today...okay, a couple of octaves lower now maybe, but still with that same focus and knowledge he needs to do what he does in the game of hockey. If I'm going to touch on hockey, then it just seemed the right thing to do to add infant Sidney to my blog.
No further buildup needed - enjoy.

The Story of Stuff

2007-12-26T12:27:00.000-08:00

This is an incredible little 20 minute tour guided by Annie Leonard through our wicked and wasteful ways. It tells how we got here and why, but also how we can reverse the trend before it annihilates us all. I will only be able to link you to the film as there is no code to bring it directly here.
But watch, please. It is funny and informative.

The Story of Stuff

If you need inspiration...

2007-12-09T06:10:00.000-08:00

I don't think we can look at our cut finger or stubbed toes and whine after watching what others cope with so beautifully every day of their lives, do you?

The almost mighty Oak...

2007-11-08T07:18:00.000-08:00

The future mighty Oak. As I sit here at my computer every morning, I have looked out my window and watched this young Oak grow from a spindly, supported little stick, to what could be qualified as a tree now. Not a big tree, but the potential is there.

It was only last November that it was no more than a stick - looking more like a green Q-Tip stuck in the ground, than anything close to a tree.
But it's a proud little tree now. It even has four acorns. And I'm sure as it looks around itself at all the wonderful colors surrounding it, it wants to show it can keep up with the best of them. Our house is nearly completed and the closing date grows near...November 27. I will be moving away from this apartment in another few weeks and I won't get to watch the progress of this little tree any longer. That makes me sad in a way...silly me.
So I wanted to pay tribute to it's efforts with my camera at least.

There are two other little Oaks here as well and I'm waiting for them to turn so I can capture their colors too, but for now, I just have the one.

I do have a Mallard family who comes every day too - their day at the 'beach' I presume. A safe haven from hunters anyway.

At least here they will be. I never like to think beyond that.

The Mephisto Club

2007-11-02T20:35:00.000-07:00

Sixth in the series of Medical examiner Maura Isles and Boston City police detective Jane Rizzoli.

A few years back I joined an obscure little whodunit book club that literally gave us books to read, just so we could rate them. Nice work if you can get it, and I did. For a person such as myself who couldn’t keep myself in books, this was ideal. Oh yes, there were some kumquats to gnaw through, but for the most part, I had, to one degree or another, a retty good book to read when I was ready to relax for the evening. There were the exceptions to those kumquats too. One such non-kumquat was author Tess Gerritsen.

Fast forward to the present and Ms. Gerritsens sixth in her series of books featuring heroines Laura Isles and Jane Rizzoli. All the books in this series are stand-alone thrillers, as is The Mephisto Club. The title refers to a somewhat loosely knit organization of wealthy, but naive idealists who claim to seek out evil and try to strike it down. Or at least so they say.

The club’s acolytes devote themselves to the study and analysis of evil: is it able to be explained by science? And does it have an absolute physical presence? Do modern day demons walk the earth? Drawing on a wealth of dark historical data and mysterious religious symbology, the clubs scholars claim they can prove what they believe to be true - that Satan and his minions actually exist among us today. But is the club only investigating murders, or are they the target of the killings? Or do they emanate from it?

As the story opens, Medical examiner Maura Isles and Boston City police detective Jane Rizzoli find themselves involved in an unnerving Christmas Eve investigation. A murder in a rundown house in the city - a young woman brutally murdered and then meticulously dismembered by her killer. The words "I have sinned", written in blood, are left ominously scrawled above her on the wall, along with what seem to be religious symbols. This whole murder scene, the women feel, is one of the worst they’ve encountered over the course of their careers. How were they to know this was only the beginning?

Soon afterwards, a second murder victim is found and the whole scene has eerie similarities to the first, now also drawing the interests of The Beacon Hill Mephisto Club – a society of religious and crime historians with an unhealthy appetite for every gory detail, and headed up by the well-connected and very rich Anthony Sansone.

Also causing the women concern, is a phone call traced from the crime scene back to Jane's nemesis, psychologist Joyce O'Donnell. What this all points to, they have to find out and fast before any more deaths occur! In fact, as they investigate further, they begin to wonder if they themselves might be the next victims!

Tess Gerritsen can take you easily into her story. She is a qualified American physician and former anthropology student. During her studies at Stanford University, Tess developed a keen interest in ancient cultures as well as spending time studying the workings of the human body and human remains. It’s this combination of interests that led her into writing, affording her an opportunity to develop stories from her studies as well as through her travels. Her first-hand experiences in autopsy rooms and the medical professional comes through expertly in her writing.

There are some glitches in the plot, however nothing major, and the story stands up and is riveting and hard to put down. If you liked Da Vinci Code, you will thoroughly enjoy this book! A powerful story that I wouldn’t be surprised to see made into a movie. Unsettling and edgy – just what you expect from a good thriller.

Mr. Crayola

2007-11-02T14:15:00.000-07:00

Don Marco is an incredible artist who didn't let the little things like proper medium stop him from creating some beautiful visions for us to enjoy. How come my crayons never did this, hmmm?

Don Marco - Mr. Crayola-part 1

and...

Don Marco - Mr.Crayola - part2

I didn't inherit my uncles gift of taking 8 wax crayons either, like Don Marco, and creating wonderful images that belie their origins. C'est la vie. But who knows? Maybe someday I will select just the right colors and I too, will appear in someones blog with my masterpiece.

Hey, it could happen!

Booyah...Yeah - Boo!

2007-10-28T09:19:00.000-07:00

What can I say? I love Halloween, can you tell? I mean, who doesn't? Is there anyone who doesn't enjoy dressing up as someone, or something else for a day? Or watching those tiny witches, pirates and princesses working their way tentatively up your front walk past the spooky trees and other ghoulish house decor, trying to be brave and get to the door for that reward of treats?

This is such an ancient holiday, not always the one we recognize today but a special date on our calendars nonetheless.

Yet, I wonder how much people really know about this day and date? Don’t think of this as a test – think of it as just a fun quiz. That’s all it is, no need to fear doing badly. You won’t be visited by three ghosts in the witching hour – you've got the wrong holiday. Sadly though, I can’t give you chocolate or candy kisses if you get them all right either, but you can still feel good about doing well. Alright, ready?

1. Wiccaphobia (not to be confused with Wikipedia) is a fear of witches and witchcraft. Arachnophobia is a fear of spiders. Catoptrophobia is a fear of mirrors. What is Selenophobia?
(a) A fear of the moon
(b) A fear of the dark
(c) A fear of Selena
(d) A fear of light flashes.

2. Halloween's origins date back to the ancient Celtic festival of
(a) Guy Fawkes Day
(b) The Day of the Dead
(c) Oktoberfest
(d) Samhain
3. It was once believed that if an unmarried girl kept a silver sixpence and a rosemary herb beneath her pillow on Halloween night, she would likely dream of what?

(a) The way she would die
(b) How well her garden would do through the winter
(c) Her future husband
(d) The spirits of dead female relatives

4. Robert Englund (Freddy Krueger, Nightmare on Elm Street) starred in what 1977 movie with Henry Fonda and Susan Sarandon?

(a) The Rocky Horror Picture Show
(b) The Last of the Cowboys
(c) Once Upon a Time in the West (C'era una volta il West)
(d) The Satan Murders

5.Dean Koontz didn't write Something Wicked This Way Comes, so who did?

(a) Edgar Allen Poe
(b) Mary Shelley
(c) Ray Bradbury
(d) Bram Stoker

6. On October 31, 2005 in Northern Cambria, Pennsylvania, Scott Cully set what world record?

(a) Carved a Jack o'lantern the fastest
(b) Won the pumpkin pie eating contest
(c) Grew the world's largest pumpkin
(d) Carved the largest Jack-o-lantern

7. The Irish tradition of carving a lantern is centuries old. But since the Irish don't grow pumpkins, what did they originally use?

(a) Petrified wood
(b) Turnips and potatoes
(c) Large clumps of peat from bogs
(d) Watermelons and Cantaloupe

8.Who died on October 31st?

(a) Boris Karloff
(b) Bram Stoker
(c) Edgar Allen Poe
(d) Harry Houdini

9. Which of these is not a real place?

(a) Skull Creek, Nebraska
(b) Transylvania, Romania
(c) Black Forest, Germany
(d) Death Valley National Park
(e) Devils Den, California

10. Which one of these urban legends is true?

(a) Razors have been found in apples.
(b) Halloween is the second-biggest holiday in terms of retail sales.
(c) Ohio's famed "Chimera House" is a haunted attraction that's so scary, no one has ever completed the tour.
(d) The Blair Witch Project is based on footage shot by three student filmmakers who mysteriously disappeared while making a documentary about the legend of the Blair Witch.

Tattle tales from the crypt:-

1.(a) - Selenophobia is a fear of the moon.

2. (d) - Samhain was celebrated by the Celts. They lived 2,000 years ago in the area that is now Ireland, the United Kingdom and northern France. They celebrated their new year on November 1.

3. (c) - She dreamt of her future husband. It was also believed that if a girl carrying a lamp in her hand went to a spring of water on Halloween night, she would see the reflection of her life partner in water. There was also the belief that if an unmarried girl carried a broken egg in a glass and took it to a spring of water, she would be able to catch the glimpse of not just her future husband, but also her future children.

4.(c) - The Last of the Cowboys a rather eclectic B road movie.

5.(c) - Ray Bradbury published Something Wicked This Way Comes in 1962.

6. (d) The world's largest Jack o'lantern was carved by Scott Cully (USA) from the world's largest pumpkin on October 31, 2005 in Northern Cambria, Pennsylvania, USA. The pumpkin was grown by Larry Checkon (USA) and weighed 666.32 kg (1,469 lb) at the Pennsylvania Giant Pumpkin Growers Association Weigh-off, on October 1, 2005.

7. (b) - They used turnips and potatoes.

8.(d) - Harry Houdini died October 31, 1926

9. - Would you believe…they're all real? They are indeed –spooky huh?

10. (a) – sadly, razor blades have been found in apples. The other legends have now all been proven wrong. And oh for the day when as a society, we are well, and this will be added to the others as no longer true.

Pumpkins have been grown in North America for five thousand years. They are indigenous to the western hemisphere. And for anyone afraid of that piece of pumpkin pie, leave off the whipped cream and you’ll be okay. Pumpkins are low in calories, fat, and sodium and high in fiber. They are good sources of Vitamin A, Vitamin B, potassium, protein, and iron.

Happy haunting, everyone!

The pet lovers alarm clock and other cat issues...

2007-10-21T06:05:00.000-07:00

Okay, I know that any human sharing their space with a cat is going to watch this and sagely nod their heads.

The procedure is the same, no matter who you are or where you live - kitty is hungry - move it! Move it before you lose an ear or an eyelid...don't fight it. Just get up and feed Precious.

In our household there are two people to 'appeal to' and three kitties to make those appeals. Mornings can get bloody! I have the 'extra freckle' on my nose to prove it.
One morning I had an early dentist appointment and when I got all settled in the chair, the doc peered at my nose and asked 'what in gawds name happened to you???' I explained that it was nothing really - just a kitty kiss from Jake.

Jake loves to see everyones eyelids raise in the morning. In fact, I think he can hear them move even before they are full up! He will be in the farthest reaches of the house, but the second I wake up, he'll bound into the bedroom, launching himself off the floor and full onto my midriff. Ooooph! Depending on what I've had to drink before bed, plus how late and how much will dictates the condition of my bladder. But generally, it's maxed out. Did I mention that Jake is a robust 23 pounder? That touchdown will turn anyone into an Olympic caliber sprinter!

We are all taught by our furrier friends at a young age, how we are to co-exist peacefully with them. It is to our advantage to listen and watch then, so we're not left at any great disadvantage later on. They can fascinate. They can mystify. They inspire great men and women to pen poetry about them.

Some short:-

Mr Mistoffelees
by T.S. Eliot

OH!
Well I never!
Was there ever
A cat so clever
As Magical Mr Mistoffelees!

Some not so short:-

Hodge The Cat
Sarah Chauncy Woolsey (Susan Coolidge)

Burly and big, his books among,
Good Samuel Johnson sat,
With frowning brows and wig askew,
His snuff-strewn waistcoat far from new;
So stern and menacing his air,
That neither Black Sam,
nor the maid
To knock or interrupt him dare;
Yet close beside him, unafraid,
Sat Hodge, the cat.

"This participle," the Doctor wrote,
"The modern scholar cavils at,
But," - even as he penned the word,
A soft, protesting note was heard;
The Doctor fumbled with his pen,
The dawning thought took wings and flew,
The sound repeated, come again,
It was a faint, reminding "Mew!"
From Hodge, the cat...

The Dictionary was laid down,
The Doctor tied his vast cravat,
And down the buzzing street he strode,
Taking an often-trodden road,
And halted at a well-known stall:
"Fishmonger," spoke the Doctor gruff,
"Give me six oysters, that is all;
Hodge knows when he has had enough,
Hodge is my cat."

Then home; puss dined and while in sleep
he chased a visionary rat,
His master sat him down again,
Rewrote his page, renibbed his pen;
Each "i" was dotted, each "t" was crossed,
He labored on for all to read,
Nor deemed that time was waste or lost
Spent in supplying the small need
Of Hodge, the cat.

The dear old Doctor! Fierce of mien,
Untidy, arbitrary, fat,
What gentle thought his name enfold!
So generous of his scanty gold.
So quick to love, so hot to scorn,
Kind to all sufferers under heaven,
A tend'rer despot ne'er was born;
His big heart held a corner, even
For Hodge, the cat.

They inspire us to perform songs about them. Songs like Cat People (Putting Out Fire) by David Bowie as well as the 'not so great' and not so 'classic' Mean Kitten, but still lots of fun song by Cory. The lyrical lad wails of hunters and stalkers and the Big Gulp pusses and the Sink Dinks. We are all familiar with them.

Free Animated Hug eCards

STOP the nuclear bailout! A petition...

2007-10-19T11:56:00.000-07:00

Please do this for yourself and the planet. It is such a small thing to do and has such a monumental result.

I thank you and the earth thanks you...

Making others listen to your inner self

2007-10-19T08:09:00.000-07:00

As I sit here this morning thinking about the busy day, nay, weeks ahead and having to make yet another big move, I realize my six & a half year anniversary is nearing – the anniversary of my brain pop, my blow-out, my vascular paroxysm...my near death experience. I have called it many things, most unprintable – the medical professions terminology is brain aneurysms. But, like the rose, by any other name, it still stinks. You won't find that in any medical journal you can bet.

I think about where I am today and where I was the many weeks after May 29^th, 2001. First, laying unconscious in a hospital, totally paralyzed on my left side and everyone ready to write me off.

I was told I would likely not have the use of my left arm and hand again, or walk without a full leg brace and quad cane, never mind hike, climb or do something like drive a car. But today, I can do all of those things.

I was told that the hole was in my brain was placed immediately where the brain operates eyesight and I would likely lose mine. I don’t even wear glasses. I was told that since my brain was flooded with blood and sustained damage, I shouldn't expect to do any of the things I used to do. The bloody barrage that soaked the right side of my brain was going to render me disabled. Handicapped. Crippled. No longer able to do anything, so I shouldn't waste my time trying. Oh sure, I needed to do my therapy so I could see small gains - do my therapy so that I wouldn’t worsen. But don’t set my goals too high or expect to regain my abilities 100% because I would just be disappointed. It wasn't going to happen.

Thing is, I never approached my life like that before this event, so I certainly wasn’t about to cave and start doing things that way now. Not when there was so much at stake! Were they crazy? I would sit in my hospital bed in rehab and wait for someone to come around and wheel me to therapy, wishing all the while that I could do something…ANYTHING, while waiting for my hour at the gym room. I was so eager to get started and since I worked out everyday before being hospitalized, this was unbearable! I asked them if I could bring the dumb bells back to my room from the therapy room and the answer was no because they were needed in the gym. Besides, they didn’t want me to tire myself…~*sigh*~.
I was tiring alright! Tired of the inactivity I had to endure.

So I embarked on my own path back.

Out of desperation, I had my husband bring my dumbbells in from home and I'd sit in my chair in the corner of my room and work my arm. There was also Debi, an aide/friend/confidante who would bring me the mop from behind the janitors’ door at night and I did lifts with that while sitting on my bed. I got my fingers moving and gripping and then my hand working. Before long, my arm.
My doctors were astounded! My therapists weren’t. They said they knew if anyone was going to be able to come back from something like this, I was, because I didn’t accept no for an answer. I never believed the doctors and I never believed I wasn’t going to get better. That’s not a brag – that’s simply a fact. And it’s also the point of my post.

The medical profession continues to make one large mistake over and over again. They treat patients as case histories or tend to try and fit them into what they believe is how it should go, based on what has gone before. The textbook case. ‘Let’s see…kinda like case 732b and a little like case 81c with a dash of F459 thrown in, so I guess we can’t expect anything different from this person, even though she’s an entirely different human being in entirely different circumstances and with a major kick ass attitude!’

My main doctor, Dr. Howard Yonas, is a very highly respected neurosurgeon [and all round cool guy] not just in the US, but internationally, would kid with me from time to time, saying he was going to have my picture put on the side of buses in Pittsburgh as his poster person for recovery. I'd kid back telling him to throw away all his books and write his own books based on observations of his patients like me and he would have plenty of poster persons.

In the end, the lesson here is we should never limit ourselves, nor should we allow others to limit us - least of all our doctors and physical therapists. I lived all by myself in Vegas for nearly a year and today I still spend a lot of time on my own. I doubt I'd be able to do this had I listened to the naysayers. I was so fortunate to have good, understanding therapists that understood my mindset. Thanks guys and girls, you know who you are. Because of your support, I'm continuing to have an active life, and while maybe not 100%, I do a pretty nasty 95%.

Echo Park

2007-10-10T10:20:00.000-07:00

Readers of Michael Connelly’s Hieronymus [Harry] Bosch series will be happy that the 12th in the series Echo Park has now been released in soft cover. And I’m happy to report it’s another great read from cover to cover. Great plot, and the tale moves along rather crisply.

I haven’t had the chance to catch up with Harry over these long summer months, but then Harry isn’t that hard to catch these days, having reached his 60’s and slowing a bit after coming out of retirement. That’s not to say he’s lost his edge though, just that his edge has softened a little, along with his middle and his eyesight.

Echo Park finds Harry back on the job, this time assigned to cold cases division in LAPD’s Open and Unsolved Cases Unit. He begins digging out old cases he personally had never been able to close - one such case that had plagued him for thirteen years – the case of a missing young woman, Marie Gesto. Over the years, Harry had occasionally pulled the file on Gesto fearing it was a murder but never having proof. No evidence and no body to give himself or Maria’s parents closure.

So when Harry learns that a killer, apprehended for several other crimes, has recently confessed to the Marie Gesto murder, he is both stunned and more than a little skeptical.
Harry's brought in to take the man's confession, since he and his former partner Jerry Edgar worked the original case and Harry’s so familiar with the case history.

All appears in order and the man, Raynard Waits, agrees to lead the police team to Gesto's body. But Harry has a bad feeling about this ‘confession’, a feeling that this is all just too tidy. Especially when he learns that the prominent candidate for District Attorney, Rick O'Shea is involved. The name's double entendre shouldn't be lost on anyone.

To make matters worse, it is pointed out by one of the investigators of the reopened case, that Harry and his partner had originally dropped the ball and missed a critical clue which allowed the killer to go free and leading Harry to believe he could have cracked the case and prevented the girl’s death back then if he’d done his job right. It would have also meant stopping her killer from taking the nine additional victims that followed her being killed as well.

Harry’s faith in himself is now shaken to the core and he’s determined to make up for that past mistake. What he doesn’t count on is that prominent people associated with the crime are corrupt and he can trust no-one, whether they’re in law enforcement or not.

There is a lot for readers to enjoy about this book, though some new to the Harry Bosch series may feel like they’ve been dropped into the middle of an intimate conversation. But they can still enjoy the story because the conversations and flash-backs make it all clear relatively quick. What I like about the series, this book not withstanding, is that Connelly tells things so believably. He describes accurately the unglamorous side of the investigation, the dreary paperwork and reading of reports and files. Even with all this, however, it is so well-written that it doesn’t shortchange the reader on anything. There’s lots of drama - heinous acts and a gun fight or two – body pieces in trash bags and underground dens of iniquity…plus close partnerships and returning loves. And more than a few exciting plot twists. What's not to like about this book?

What's left to be said about John Prine...

2007-10-10T05:39:00.000-07:00

...that hasn't already been said a thousand times? The man is a lyrical genius admired over his long career by peers and audiences alike. John writes the songs we can all relate to. The songs about favorite cars, favorite dogs, and favorite times. And the bad times...a song writer can't ignore the bad times, but John writes those from a different, nay, a better perspective. Not so much in protest as in a nostalgic learning path. A more palatable reminiscence.

Returning home a star...

...favorites...

And then Bonnie & John doing one of my personal favorites.

I would have killed to be at this concert - Bonnie, Bryan, Bruce, and Jackson all doing John! OMG!

Still, I'm hoping to see John doing John in the next few months. A trip to my old stomping grounds - Pittsburgh and a close to the stage seat in the Mellon Arena. Can't ask for more than that.

I'll let y'all know how good it was...

The Fairy nests

2007-10-06T20:19:00.000-07:00

~click on all images to enlarge~

I love to find the little treasures of life - the things my grandfather would always explain to me and no-one else knew about. The tiny Maple whirligigs, the propellers that the Nature spirits would use to come gently to the ground. I tried as a child to catch a glimpse of the spirits but I never could...oh, I saw the propellers for sure, but never was good enough to see the spirits.

Though never seen, I always felt their presence y'know, and I think that was what my grandfather was trying to teach me. The awareness of nature. The awareness of all things of nature, real or imagined.

But the fairy nests, well, I saw them everywhere as a kid and I did sometimes think I saw the their little faces hiding down under the canopies and laughing at my inability to catch them. I would gently blow on them - not enough to harm anything or tear the fiber of them, but just to make them dance and jiggle the millions of glistening droplets.

Very early today as I looked out at our misty morning, I was delighted to discover everything draped with fairy nests! All along our hedges they dwelt, outlined with dew and sparking in the soft morning light. A photo op if there ever was one! Something I was never able to do as a kid, and as hard as I tried to draw them, I could never capture their ethereal form or do it justice.

So I have them now - proof that they exist and to capture the beauty of them for ever.

A community of Fae - the preparedness of winter settling in. Berries in abundance and the protection of boughs from the cold snows that will be here soon enough. The quiet hush of autumn...

They choose their different places, much as we do - some picking the burnished red of the fiery bush while others preferring the smaller blades of grass. My grandfather would be so proud that I had remembered his tales of how they decided to live where they did, but for now I will leave you with just these images.

I must remember to watch closely to see if I will be treated to a sighting of the inhabitants. I have my camera ready...you just never really know.

Whoosh!

2007-10-04T05:40:00.000-07:00

How many times have you started a sentence with "Somebody should come up with a...". Well, this is the answer to all my sentences starting with those six words. My life just got a little easier with Tubes.

Bless the hearts of those folks at Tubes Networks, they've saved my hide by coming up with this little gem. Too many times I've hit 'send' only to want to suck it back immediately afterwards, knowing that there's that one terrible picture in there I've been meaning to edit out - the one with someones eyes half closed, or the top of their head lopped off. Now though, it'll no longer be me going down the tubes - just my files - in Tubes.

Tubes incorporates the internet by assigning a unique URL to every file in every tube, then every tube automatically generates it's own Web site - or TubeSite as it's called. The individual file URL's can easily be found by right clicking on a file and selecting an option to copy the URL into an email or browser.

Basically, once you've downloaded it, Tubes resides open on your desktop and you just sort out what you want to send, drag it over and drop it into the appropriate tube and send it off - whoosh! Just like the bank vacuum tubes that have made everyones lives so much easier.

Another terrific feature is you don't have to be online to access it and make changes! Just do the same as you would if you were online...drag the files in or out of the tube. Then the next time you connect to the internet, it automatically updates.

I like that they've used the familiar drag and drop feature that we're all so accustomed to using too. Any kind of file can be sent off in these tubes. As soon as you've released your data into it's tube, a whoosh sound tells you your file has been encrypted and uploaded to the Tubes server. How easy is that?

The only thing I could say negatively about my PC program is they could improve upon the permission levels and making them easier to understand. I'm moderately good at understanding the computer, but I had to read through a few times before it all clicked for me.

Beyond that, it's a relatively easy thing to use right out of the gate and who could ask for more than that?

They still need to come out with a Mac version however, and that needs to happen soon. I'm using Windows Vista and many of my Mac owner friends have had very inconsistent picture files coming from me. Or not at all! This too, could be a Vista issue, as those of you who have it, know it's issues! So as good as Tubes is, there is still room for a smidgen of improvement but nothing major, just a tiny grumble.
There's word out that a revised and improved version is about ready for release now, so they do listen.

Oh, and one last (nice) thing? It's available in a free version which handles a gigabyte of storage. But for a reasonable fee you can get five, ten and twenty gigs for $6, $11 or $21 respectively. And no, I don't work for them. I just believe in endorsing something that works well. This works very well.

The Ever Expanding Blogosphere

2007-09-28T09:07:00.000-07:00

It’s funny how I came upon this realization – it was through my treadmill. Okay, not literally through my treadmill, but because I was ready for my daily tread on it. I had pretty much exhausted everything I wanted to listen to on my iPod, so I snapped on TV for something to watch while spending an hour walking nowhere. News being what it is today, I decided I couldn’t walk fast enough to get away from anything they were airing & so switched to the next channel.

As it happened, it was Retirement Living TV and the show was Daily Café. Daily Cafe is hosted by Mary Alice Williams, I hope you remember her - the first ever woman to win an Emmy for anchoring the evening news? Mary Alice hasn't sitting on her laurels either! She is doing this show as she's done everything - superbly.
As for Retirement Living TV, I didn’t even know this channel existed, I’m ashamed to say.

This day, they were talking about keeping elderly parents or grandparents vital and active once they moved into retirement; or retirement homes as the case dictated. They had a video of a wonderful 78 year old grandmother cooking up something in what was obviously her own kitchen, so I just had to watch more.

As it turned out, it was a podcast done by Bubbe’s grandson Avrom and featured her at home in her kitchen cooking kosher. Feed Me Bubbe. What fun! As it turned out she was making Apple Blitzes and I waited in anticipation for the recipe to be given out...which it was at the end of the Daily Cafe show!
This was then followed by various celebrities who related their stories of getting their older family members active on the computer.

For most of the people past 65, just the thought of buying a new computer gives them hives. But to actually start something like a blog or to join a message board or chat room was, to quote them, way too hard to do. “Something for young people to do, but not them”. They had learned how to bank online and shop online – why not enter the world of blogging? Why were they intimidated by this aspect of computer use? Have we perpetuated those feelings?

So I took it upon myself to seek out some of the more adventuresome post 65 year olds who had leaped into the fray so to speak, and was amazed at just how many there are. And how damn good they are too! No longer is blogging a world completely dominated by gossip mongers or people with axes to grind. We are now joined by people of experience. People that aren’t drawing from books to talk about what happened 50 years ago, but people who were actually there and lived it. Blogs like Welcome to Katalusis by Virginia Bergman, a wonderful site filled with warmth and insight.

To further my enjoyment of these focused blogs, they hadn’t yet become splogs. By that I mean so loaded down with ads and click-me banners that you can no longer find the blog itself right away. Don’t get me wrong - it’s not that making pin money from blogs is a bad idea. But when the ads take up more of the blog space than the writing, it‘s no longer a blog; it’s mainstream media with some token commentary. I actually visited one site the other day where the entire day’s post was a plea for readers to click on the ads there! They were threatened with closing down the blog for lack of funding.

Then too, are the social sites such as MySpace and Twitter which are further eroding the sense of community that blogs originally fostered. These “social media sites” look more like newspaper inserts for Walmart, Sears or Kohl’s. It has become that as bloggers work toward that professional blog status, we lose the essence of what attracted us “amateurs and personal journalists” to blogging in the first place. Seeing these sites, do we have to wonder why the storytelling people and people with histories among us shy away from blogging?
I so welcome the day when we can expand back to that.

I wish I still had a grandmother to get hooked on it. I know my grandmother would have embraced the concept and would have posted the best blog this side of 70.

Lisey’s Story - a novel by Stephen King

2007-09-26T06:03:00.000-07:00

Lisey’s Story - who would have expected this tale to come from the word processor of Stephen King? King of the boogies and master of the biannual fright fest? I recall him saying once in an interview that he was the ‘fast food of fiction’. He certainly has been that.

With Lisey’s Story however, we have a novel which hints at a section of Kings mind that isn’t all gobbledy-gooks chasing kids, mad dogs and monstrous motorcars. This story seems to move away from those things - departing from all that. Almost. Yes, there’s the weird words, the invented slang, things like bools and bad gunky, as well as the baby-talk terms that can get a bit tiresome in the beginning, but after a few hours they quickly become a part of your thought processes too.
There’s the New England colloquial expressions of course, that has always been a part of the King novel du jour, but these are suited to our heroine now, since she resides in Castle County, Maine.

This time around, King has dared to drop his own preoccupation of past tales and set out on a literary composition of Lisey’s preoccupation of her own past. This is a multidimensional story of grief and love, of a woman surviving fame and dysfunctional families. As I read on, I felt I was peeling the layers away from a colorful onion and finding another story of a different color beneath the preceding ones. Stories both mesmerizing and honest. Perhaps even Kings most honest book to date.

Lisey’s Story is the story of Lisa Debusher Landon, fifty year old widow of National Book award and Pulitzer prize winning author Scott Landon, who, while clearing out her dead husbands writings from his work space two years after his death, finds herself understanding for the very first time who he really was. He has left clues behind for her to discover. Clues about a ‘place’ called Boo’ya Moon, a lavender-scented parallel world of sorts. She learns this is the place Scott and his brother escaped to while growing up with their monstrous father in rural Pennsylvania. A place where Scott eventually takes his brother to - a brother driven to catatonia and worse. She also soon learns that much of Scott's vivid writing talent comes from what he has witnessed in the Booya Moon.

While applying herself to this arduous sorting chore however, Lisey gets threatened by a strange man, the evil Zack McCool aka John Dooley, who wants all Scotts unpublished papers. So after stealing her sister Amanda out of an asylum, she and Amanda whisk Dooley away to Boo'ya Moon, where the justice of that land is meted out by a creature that haunted Scott his entire life.

Boo’ya Moon itself could very well become a new series of books, so complex and interesting a place this is. Moving behind the purple curtain and into the place where Long Boy lives and evil laughers make sunset dangerous. The place of the word pool, that pool which supplies poets and authors with the ways of expressing themselves - where we all go down to cast our nets and fish. Magically, mysteriously, it also heals both mentally and physically.

Though she spent most of her life lost behind her husbands fame, Lisey was the sort of person that holds the planet steady on it’s axis, so to speak. You share in the warmly candid relationship she has with her four sisters, Amanda, Darla, Cantina, and Jodotha, something that anyone with sisters will relate to. I think you have to love Lisey. She is understated, but to the point. Quietly sarcastic and wonderfully decent, dependable and unpretentious, she is the last person we think of when thinking heroism, yet in every respect she is.

I especially love when Lisey recalls a part of Scotts proposal to her. “I come to you and you see me whole,” Scott told Lisey when he proposed marriage in 1979. That moment is as alive for her when she remembers it as it was all those years back. “You love me all the way around the equator and not just for some story I wrote. When your door closes and the world’s outside, we’re eye to eye.” While that might not have been true when Scott said those words, it surely was by the end of this novel. This book goes beyond those words to give a palpable sense of their enduring love affair.

This book is not without its faults. No one with as much money as Lisey was left with is going to be that vulnerable to a stalker. However, if you can ignore this particular contrivance, you've got an engrossing and often terrifying story. It is long at 653 pages but rewards the reader with a feel good ending once you reach the last page.

The Photo Album

2007-09-20T04:33:00.000-07:00

>click on all pictures to enlarge~
I have so many pix that just don't seem to fit into any one post now, so I thought this might be the best way around that. Since the new camera came into my life, it has virtually been aimed and clicked at everything - some things were keepers and others brought about no more than a giggle or embarrassment. But it's all a part of the learning curve and you don't want to toss them for that reason. "Exhibit #51, yer honor - why not to snap a picture before focusing."

I do have automatic everything on the camera but still prefer using the manual settings. There's just something too perfect about those automatic pictures, and many times they lack the character of ones that are manually set.

So! No more going on about that. These pictures will all be from different times and different events. I will try & caption them as much as I can so I hope you enjoy them...
First and latest, from my husbands company picnic:-

The kids doing what kids do at parks and picnics...

Ollie waits patiently for his twin brother Tobi to come play ball.

Tobi has other ideas though..."Sorry pal, but this town ain't big enough for the both of us - I'm turtling outta here.

Huh! Oh yeah? You think you can catch me with the speedy Chipmunk, think again! My hardshell has his orders!"

Giddyup! Get movin'! There's peanuts in it for ya iff'n you can catch that varmint!"

Matteas contemplates her odds - not great! "That's a long, long way down to that tree, and what's this you say? I gotta go around it three times??

"Oh, and Mr. Judge? I'd like to report a contest infraction? I can't prove it but I think he's glued his egg to the spoon?"

The team enjoys the spoils of their race win - mini fishing!

But now on to something completely different. The sky over our new house.
We couldn't help but snap these shots, and even then we couldn't capture just how beautiful the sky was because it's impossible to capture light. But as we were taking pictures of the construction, a noisy family of crows flew overhead drawing our attention to what was above.

There were almost biblical rays shooting down through the mauve clouds and lighting up the sides of the house and the windows. It was, for lack of a better word, spooky! The sun setting and the surrounding landscape was reflected in the front windows and it was golden.
Sometimes you just dumb into an interesting shot.

Matchbox Twenty

2007-09-19T07:13:00.000-07:00

It all started with this tune...

Which kicked off a passionate love of their music and the message their music brought.

Some things are just too hard to label - for me these guys are one of them. I love this band and wasn't too thrilled when Rob Thomas decided to go out on his own, figuring that was the death knell for the group. Altho' he and Joss did a nice tune together, I still wanted him back with his boys.

They were the band I attribute to getting me out of rehab, back on my feet and walking again - my lead therapist held a poster up at the end of the corridor in the hospital each day and said "Ginger; Rob wants you here in front of him right now." It worked. I had tickets for their concert and I was determined I was going to go! Since our tickets were stage front, I wouldn't settle for the handicap section either! No, I wasn't going to do that to my husband or myself! I had no intention of cashing those tickets in for some others. I was going to walk to those seats and watch my guys. I did! Thanks guys...

Anyway it wasn't the end!! They are back and better than ever, if that's possible.
And thanks for seeing the wisdom in putting yourselves back together and giving us all some more music to listen to. I'm at your next concert - or two- or more! Count on it!

Things I drool and lust after 2

2007-09-14T06:20:00.000-07:00

I want to do this someday too...drive to the airport in my Porsche Carrera GT and hop into my F18 or my F22 Raptor...

...or have someone drop me off at the local aircraft carrier and punch it out into the sky. Hey! A girl can dream right?

I might even let someone else pilot the thing.

I never understood the need for booze and drugs. I could get so high on so much in life - music, and speed...real miles per hour speed, not methamphetamines. Listening to someone who knows how to play blues just has me in the palm of their hand. I am putty...no, I am a cooked noodle! Bonnie can do that for me - and so can Steve with Joe.

And while it's a little loose, it's still two of my best together - Aerosmith & Zeppelin.

And bad vid but hey! I was there, so it's gotta go in.

There's not a lot to add to this one...Jackson and David doing what they do the best.

Oh, those Mercury Blooooooz....

And lastly, I want to learn to play my fav classical pieces like this guy!! Two of my favorites actually right from childhood. First
Ready, set, go - Pachelbels Canon in D major, not quite like you've ever heard it before!

and then Antonio Vivaldi's Le Quattro Stagioni, better known as The Four Seasons suite, but never heard like this before, I'm sure.

The Glass Castle - A Memoir by Jeannette Walls

2007-09-12T13:30:00.000-07:00

I read The Glass Castle - A Memoir last November while still living in North Las Vegas and had a very clear knowledge of the places Jeannette Walls spoke of in in her book. Her eventual move to Welch, West Virginia, then took her close enough to Pittsburgh where I’d spent eight years as well. As she described her surroundings, I mentally moved along with her. and it helped me to relate fully to this book. But that's where the similarities ended.This comes about as close as you’re going to get into the lives of what some cruelly call white trailer trash, yet it is an intriguing story that kept me with it to the end. It took only the first few pages and I was hooked. After the next 20, I was somewhat unbelieving, yet still captivated.

As I turned each page I wanted to dislike this tale of dysfunction at its worst and family survival at its best, but I kept reading.

Having said that however, there are blaring signs that the author went too far in her embellishment of this story. I know I am going against the grain in saying anything bad about this book as it was received with rave reviews, yet I could not embrace it as others did. Not as a biography anyway. Try fiction or 'based on the life of...'.

The very lack of emotion as Jeannette relates the more poignant moments suggests she’s taken a lot of artistic license in writing this book. At least it gave me that impression anyway. Telling of living in a small building without utilities through a winter and the building sliding down the mountainside — no feelings on that; it just happened. Or children coming by their home and taunting and calling out bad things; she didn’t have any feelings about this either, it seems.

I recall as a kid that I would be upset if I even imagined someone doing that, but if they actually did it, I sure felt many things. And certainly if I was going to write a book on my life, I would take that opportunity to tell how I felt in order to make the reader understand.

Walls relates how hard it was to get through years of hunger, but never once describes how she felt at the time, i.e."‘my stomach hurt so terribly and I felt so weak." Or, "I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep because my stomach was empty." These omissions, together with the author being able to quote verbatim whole conversations and dialogs from her earliest childhood, added to my disbelief. Can she possibly remember things that took place so long ago in such detail? There seems to be much fictionalizing along with her "memories." Perhaps she is her father’s daughter after all.

Which brings me to one more question. She tells us her father was a prolific storyteller and was always scribbling down his thoughts. Then later on, her mother finds all his stories written down. Yet Walls gives us no excerpts? Or never has them published?

And, where are the photos? I know not all books are published with photos in them, but this is a memoir and Jeannette tells us there were pictures taken of them as dirty kids living in the desert. Not even one on the book jacket?

The hardest part to swallow though, is that today she is married to writer John Taylor and currently working in New York City as a gossip columnist with MSNBC.com. She has also appeared regularly on television, including the Today Show, CNN, and PrimeTimeLive. She is enjoying a very privileged life today, yet her mother lives in destitution in the same city and she’s allowing her to live this way. According to Ms. Wall, allowing her mother her "spiritual freedom"? Really.

I wish Ms. Walls had been honest and just titled her book “The highly fictionalized, sort of loosely based memoir of my life”. Then I’d feel much better about calling it a biography.

reviewed February 6, 2007

The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards

2007-09-12T13:14:00.000-07:00

Kim Edwards' propitious debut novel, The Memory Keeper's Daughter, is by no means an easy read. The overall sadness, a result of an impulsive and painful decision made by Doctor David Henry during an immobilizing snow storm on a cold winter’s night in 1964, creates such sweeping consequences that they reach into the next two decades and beyond. This one unfortunate choice made by a man who felt there could be no other choice for him, irrevocably changes the lives of many people.

Doctor Henry, an orthopedic surgeon, delivers his wife Norah's babies. Along with his nurse colleague Caroline Gill, they witness the birth of fraternal twins, son Paul, and a little girl, Phoebe. But they don't tell his wife that Phoebe is born with Down Syndrome.

It is Kentucky 1964, and at that time not uncommon for babies with the syndrome to be sent away to special homes at birth. But what David decides to do is not entirely legal; in fact, it is close to being a crime.

He asks nurse Caroline to take the baby away to a place that looks after children such as Phoebe, and he tells Norah that their daughter has been born dead, rationalizing it as a need to protect his wife from grief.

This split-second decision becomes a pivotal turning point in the lives of Norah, their son Paul, as well as Caroline, who decides to flee with the child and raise her as her own. After seeing the home she was told to deliver Phoebe to, she realizes that she cannot leave the baby there. In the back of her mind she knows she can give Phoebe a much better life than what she'll receive at the institution.

As the years pass, David and Norah's lives continue to erode, with the lie creating an invisible wall around David, and he and Norah drift further and further apart. Where once their marriage had been happy, the "death" of Phoebe destroys it. And the boy, Paul, sensing the unhappiness between his parents, is also affected by the death of his twin, and becomes a rebellious and petulant teenager, easily seen heading to a life of delinquency and crime.

The jarring irony in all this is that David based his decision on his own childhood. He grew up watching his own parents live in the fear of losing his sister, who also had Down Syndrome. She was chronically ill, born with heart defects and had no chance of surviving into adulthood. It was David's need to protect Norah from the sorrows of raising a child such as his sister that forced him to give Phoebe away, never understanding how the death of a child would impact his wife, or any mother. At the same time, David acting as if the baby was never born, causes Norah to turn from him as he continues to frustrate and anger her more as years pass.

Both David and Norah eventually find interests away from each other, creating a wider chasm in their relationship. There are other people brought into this book, all with much to add to the story, including Norah's free-spirited sister Bree, caught up in the turbulent '60s; and Al, a truck driver who helps Caroline and the baby the night they flee, becoming an integral part of their lives. You follow the children and see how they thrive in their own ways and follow the years as one family thrives and the other one deteriorates.

This book shouldn't be mistaken for a romance, nor should it be thought of as a soap opera laid out on paper; it is neither. It is simply a wonderfully crafted tale of two sets of people tied together by the lie of one man. What is most fascinating though — comprising the power behind the novel -- lies in the paths of each of the twins as they grow up in separate environments.

The Memory Keeper's Daughter isn't the kind of book I'm accustomed to reading, but it was recommended to me by a friend. I am now making a recommendation to others to give it a read. While not perfect, it gives us a view of the past and much to think about.

reviewed February 24, 2007

Losing respect really hurts

2007-09-09T09:34:00.001-07:00

In the space of two weeks I have lost respect of not one but two women I have long admired, and for reasons I never would have expected. All having to do with race and people of color.
The women I am referring to are Whoopie Goldberg and Oprah Winfrey.

First Whoopie.
How thrilled I was when I learned she was going to be joining The View? After the recent rash of controversy caused for the show by Rosy O'Donnell, I mistakenly thought Whoopie would be the intelligent and light-hearted addition they needed to continue into their eleventh season with some freshness. So how shocked and disappointed I was when I heard Whoopie defending Michael Vick in his recent dog-fighting scandal.

"He's from the South, from the Deep South. This is part of his cultural upbringing. For a lot of people, dogs are sport. Instead of just saying (Vick) is a beast and he's a monster, this is a kid who comes from a culture where this is not questioned."

Whoopie, Whoopie, Whoopie! You mean like Jeff Saturday, born in Georgia or Peyton Manning born about as deep in the south as you're gonna get - New Orleans, Louisiana. ...would you be so quick to condone them too if they'd broken the law? Or is your compassion for Vick more to do with his color? That's a terrible accusation I make, but I'm left with no other explanation for what you've done.
Whoopie subsequently defended herself the next day, explaining that she was attempting to explain Vick's actions from a cultural view, but was in no way condoning his actions. ~*back pedal*~

Dog fighting and cock fighting are cultural in some countries, yes, unfortunately they are. But here in the USA they are not. It doesn't matter if you're Chinese, Irish, Greek or African American, if you are born in this country and you live in this country, you abide by the laws of this country. There are no exceptions because you are a certain color or you don't know the law. It is up to you as a citizen to learn the laws - ignorance of them does not except you.

Dog fighting is a felony in this country!

There is no dark side to Vick being charged with this crime, only shock and disgust! And to imply like so many other black people do that he is being made a victim because he is a person of color just breaks my heart coming from you. I would expect any person with scruples or a hint of ethics to see that and not make excuses and alibis for him.

Thankfully Joy Behar took immediate issue with Whoopies comments and asked her, "What part of the country is this? How about dog torturing and dog murdering?"

Her comments were also denounced by Wayne Pacelle, president of the Humane Society of the United States, who noted that dogfighting is outlawed in all 50 states and is considered a felony in all but two, Idaho and Wyoming. How long will it take now before we hear someone accuse Behar and Pacelle of making a victim out of Whoopie? I have a sad feeling that someone is out there ready to do that too.

And Oprah - Oprah endorsing Obama. We've long known that Oprah is a king maker but now she's moved on to something a little different. I will leave you to say what that is, but after listening to her from as far back as 1984 say that it's criminal that more women aren't elected to office in this country and chastising the women of her audience for not doing enough to make that happen, she herself has an opportunity to do just that now and doesn't. Why is that do you suppose?
Furthermore, though she hasn’t had other candidates on her show to my knowledge, she did invite and had Obama and his wife. Not only that, but she then holds an extravagant bash with 1,500 guests on Saturday evening. As she introducing Obama's wife, Michelle, (who was wearing a dress by Chicago designer Maria Pinto), Oprah called her the "first lady."

Wouldn’t you love to see that guest list? I do know that Stevie Wonder performed at the do and Chris Rock and yup! Whoopi too, were both in attendance. We can only speculate…

I hope no one takes me wrong with this post though I have no doubt it's about to happen. But I stand by my convictions and I can live with peoples criticisms.. I admire Barack Obama very much and this really has little to do with his running for office - or him personally. He is a very pleasant and articulate man and he may well be the next president - the first black president this country has seen. I love the prospect of something like that happening. But this post has little to do with that. It has to do with hypocrisies and people’s motives and how they can be upset by accusations of racism against them yet perpetuate it with their actions.

Ladies, you really have let me down.

The Buffalo Field Campaign...

2007-09-09T07:26:00.000-07:00

I can't bring myself to watch these videos more than once, but I feel compelled to post them here in the heartfelt hope that it will compel enough people to write, email, phone, march or whatever it takes to stop this practice...or that matter any of these practices! Who are we that we set ourselves up to 'manage' life?

The Buffalo Field Campaign removes any (small) steps we've made toward preserving things that share our country and our planet with us. Buffalo and wolves fall to our every whim to satisfy rich ranchers and/or are 'managed' due to illness & disease. My question is if they can shoot a bullet then why can't they shoot a vaccine? There are alternatives to so much that we do but as usual, they are being ignored. We haven't learned a damn thing, have we?