another cabaret at the UUC!

There were two differences, however, from the one yesterday.

First, I was the only volunteer usher for "Night And Day: Cabaret with Samantha Talora", as the other three had opted for the salon event later tonight.

Yesterday, I'd worn my green, flowing dress, with my hair in a high ponytail.

Today, I took my hair down after I arrived.

I wore Mother Pat's summery Hawaiian dress with the golden dolphins.

Nice to give the audience something different!

Second, this event was actually double-billed, as it also featured Assaf Gleizner on the piano, as well as his talented arrangements of some of the music.

Remember, this event was titled "Night And Day".

Well, it turns out that the singer knew of two songs with that title, but different lyrics.

When she'd asked Assaf which one he'd prefer, he replied, "why not both?"

So that's what they'd done, blending the Cole Porter oldie with a much more recent one by Roxanne Seeman and Billie Hughes that Bette Midler sang about 30 years ago.

Magnificent fun!!!

When I talked about the mashup afterward with Assaf, I just had to share the one I'd done some years back!

He thought "I Feel Pretty" and the James Brown funk was an exciting idea!

Maybe I'll hear that being played at a future SVF concert?

That would be grand!!!

Samantha wove a story for us from the songs tonight.

She mentioned that she'd been on an episode of "Stories From The Stage", one of the short PBS programs I enjoy.

I'll have to see if I can find the one she was on!

That was early on in her time of saying "Yes" to scary things.

My guess is that change in quest began after her younger brother's death from cancer in 2013.

I know very well how that can change one's perspective.

Her story in song carried us from childhood ("Little Voice") to a change in attitude ("I'm Not Afraid Of Anything") to a realization that there will always be differences between people ("The Other Man's Grass Is Always Greener" and "The Secret Of Happiness").

Those last two made me think of Erma Bombeck and her humor!

After that biographical intro, she then sang a song for her dog, a song for her husband (that involved a gender swap from the Ray Charles version), and a song in memory of her brother.

Those were all straight from the program... but then came a change!

Instead of the listed tune, she sang one of my favorites: "You'll Never Walk Alone" - oh, yes, so beautiful it was, too!

Then she performed the next listed one... and encored with "Oh Shenandoah" instead of the posted Simon & Garfunkel song.

Nice change, y'all!

Yes, this has been a pretty amazing day, with plenty of lovely surprises!

(smile!)

in defense of keith

My friend Sherry Giddens posted this meme yesterday, cracking wise about how much older Keith Richards looks compared to others in The Rolling Stones and insinuating that he'd had to wait many years for them to come of age.

Timely, right?

After all, I'd just done my little piece on the aging of Michael McKean.

So, I checked to see just how old the ax wielder is.

Holy smokes, he's actually five months younger than Mick Jagger!!!

Mick was 82 in July this year; Keith won't be 82 until December. 

Bill Wyman, Charlie Watts, and Brian Jones were all born before them.

That meant Keith was actually the youngest boy in the band back in the day.

And, yet, the man looks rode hard, doesn't he, and has for as long as I can remember.

Now I have a different perspective on his place with them. 

Nice to be able to use my skills as an analytical chemist to clear that up!

(smile!)

at the movies with cc-east!

That's my acronym for Compassion Christian-East!

I was talking about acronyms earlier with Ivan and Peyton.

They were unfamiliar with the word, but they've go it now!

(smile!) 

Tonight was the last screening in their "At The Movies" summer series.

We only got 4 weeks this year, instead of 6, but it's been a good bunch.

It's been me, Smitty, and Mary these past two movies, as Tony's family has preferred pool time while the two kids are here.

They've missed two sports-themed films.

Tonight's feature was "Forrest Gump", so the marquee talked about 'running', and 'showing up', and 'loving'.

All are definitely words that describe the character played by Tom Hanks!

The film clips we saw concentrated on the love line between 'Forrest' and 'Jenny', but with intersections of 'Bubba', 'Lt. Dan', and, towards the end, their son.

The message was about showing grace toward others, even through simple gestures.

The first was when 'Jenny', as a child on the school bus, said to newcomer 'Forrest': "You can sit here if you want."

The second was when 'Bubba', as a fellow soldier on the bus off to the battle zone in Vietnam, said to late entry 'Forrest': "You can sit here if you want."

Small things truly do carry much weight.

My favorite thing, though, was all the letter-writing that 'Forrest' did.

"Love in the mail," that's what I call it. 

(smile!)

The unspoken message in tonight's sermon was about accepting others as they were, differences and all, just as Jesus did to those in his life.

In particular, this film was about accepting someone with mental and physical handicaps because, as with last week's film, we are all stronger together.

Last Wednesday CC-E gave us "Remember The Titans", a biographical sports story about two football coaches, one black (Denzel Washington) and one white (Will Patton), at a small school in Virginia that was having a serious problem with racial bias.

The year was 1971, the same year that Savannah had problems with that same issue in our schools, as the school zones had been redrawn by the politicians to allow for more diversity in all of the public schools.

I was in middle school and got beat up and kicked on the ground by a group of black students from Savannah High.

Why had they done that?

Simply because I was white and didn't make it to safety inside in time.

Mama kept me out of class for a week, sending me back with Mace in my pocket.

Fortunately, I never had to use it.

Anyway, back to the movie: the school had the black coach take over the football team, and his task was to turn them into a blended force.

He did so by assigning them to rooms together while training, making sure each pair consisted of one white and one black, and thereby ensuring they would have to get to know each other one on one, not as a group.

That made the difference.

Prejudice cannot live outside a nameless, faceless, group.

The guys all found they were stronger together, that their diversity unified them.

What a great message!

Diversity is what unifies us...

as it did for the hobbits, elves, dwarves, and wizards in the first movie...

as it did for the differently-talented people in the second movie...

as it did for the blacks and whites in the movie about the Titans...

as it did for all who interacted with the slow boy from Alabama.

Our differences make us whole.

 

i thank You, God, for this series of sermons and movies.

A fresh perspective always is a benefit.

Time with family is, too. 

balthasar:: a tale of serendipity

Had I not seen these two particular plays so closely together, I would not have caught it.

Both feature a character named 'Balthasar'.

Might that character have been the same person?

When I queried the world wide web, I received an unsatisfying reply.

Apparently, no graduate student has pursued that as a thesis.

I wish that Dr. Joseph Killorin were still alive.

He had such an expansive knowledge of the Bard's plays and I know we could have had quite a discussion about such a thing.

So, what say I approach it on my own?

I say William Shakespeare placed the character in both plays deliberately, perhaps as an inside joke for himself, curious as to whether anyone would catch on.

'Balthasar' was not only Romeo's manservant, but a dear friend as well.

That was evident in "Romeo & Juliet", the play seen tonight, performed by the 7th and 8th grade students at Garrison Arts Academy.

How very age-appropriate for those tragic lovers, non è vero?

That's why I wanted so much to see this version.

I'm so glad to have caught this closing night performance!

I'll be looking forward to future works with Noah Jasso and Adoration Boothe, two of the 14-year-olds advancing to high school, who were absolutely perfect as the teenagers in love, staying in character even at the play's end. 

Kudos to Jaclyn Jackson as the slain 'Tybalt', who stayed in position on the stage from the end of Act I, through intermission, and into Act II, when the body was carried off.

Kudos also to Ke'Aisha Powell, actor for 'Balthasar'.

The absolute dismay shown for having let down 'Romeo', leading to his death, urged me to delve into that character.

 

Could this be the same one who sang "Hey Nonny" on Thursday eve?

That's when I watched the opening night performance of "Much Ado About Nothing" by the 11th and 12th graders at Savannah Country Day.

I speak not of the same actor, of course, as 'Balthasar' was played by Tanner Kaminsky for this high school production.

I speak of the character himself.

This time, as well as being a singer, 'Balthasar' was the manservant for 'Don Pedro', the Prince from Spain, visiting his brother there in Messina.

So, both like-named characters are manservants?

Might it be that both are actually one and the same???

I hold that to be true.

Kindly, hear me out.

"Romeo and Juliet" was penned by Shakespeare between 1591 and 1595 and is set in the city of Verona, in northern Italy.

Picture a younger, more naive, 'Balthasar', perhaps on his first job as a manservant, and naturally forming a close relationship with the 'Montague' teen he serves.

Now, imagine the grief and distress of that young man when he finds the message he gave his charge was incorrect and led not only to his death, but to that of 'Juliet'.

How very heartbroken 'Balthasar' must have been!

Fast forward to 1598-1599, the time when Shakespeare penned "Much Ado About Nothing".

This time he sets the play in Messina, way down in southern Italy.

Perhaps the short elapsed time between these two plays, as well as the physical distance between the two cities of Verona and Messina, led his mind to thoughts of what the young, emotionally-distressed 'Balthasar' might have done in those few years.

Perhaps he left Verona and all its sadness, seeking a new life...

perhaps he moved to Messina and sought work there as a more experienced, less naive, manservant to the wealthy, bringing his singing ability along as an asset...

perhaps.

And so it was written, and so it was done.

Had it not been for these two schools having chosen these two plays for their graduating thespians to perform as their last hurrahs, I would not have had this perspective into a side character.

Right place, right time.

Now, I share that inside joke of the Bard's.

(smile!) 

is it live or is it memorex?

"What's that? I seem to recall that was a 'mercial catchphrase, once upon a time."

So it was! Memorex was a brand of magnetic recording tape used for VCRs. 

"So, you've referenced an extinct type of recording medium that was used for an extinct videocassette recorder. Just where are you going with this?"

You're right, I'm showing my age, I guess. It's just that the advertising jingle popped into my head between the time I viewed a recorded concert on youTube and a live concert today. Both were performed at Asbury Memorial Church.

"Ah, now I get it. I'm sure you have photos from both? And that the purpose here is to determine which was from a time in the past and which was from today?"

Correct! Only, I won't make you guess. I'll actually tell you! Will that be okay?

"Sure, toots! You go right ahead."

Thanks, you're a peach. (smile!) Okay, this first image was snapped from the youTube source. This was the inaugural concert for SING, aka Savannah Inspiring Next Generation. That's the first song, "Yonder Come Day", which started with a solo, then became all voices. The concert was performed on January 26 of this year.

"That was after Enzo dumped snow all over town?"

"Correct again. However, that isn't the reason I missed the concert. I already had an event down at Tybee at the same time. No clone, so I went to the one at the beach, as I'd waited for it for several months.

"Oh, yes, the talk about shorebirds."

Yes. Now, notice a few things about that photo. First, there are no audience heads, nor is there sunlight seen in the windows about the group. None of that is from my editing of the photograph, but from the editing work of the recording crew. 

"Yes, I see that. Nice and tight editing, no extraneous stuff."

Here's where the difference really shows. I snapped this photo today of the Spectra Choir performing their annual International Women's Day Concert. Both concerts were 3 PM matinees, so in this photo, the afternoon sun is pouring in behind the group as they sing "What Happens When A Woman Takes Power". The heads of those seated between me and the stage are quite obvious, too.

"I see what your mean! The live shot from today is much more... 'now'... more vibrant... than the one from the recording. It's almost like the difference between an AI-generated image and a real picture."

I hadn't thought of it that way, but you do have a point. My 'live' shot is more... 'messy'... I guess one would say. There's a lot of extraneous stuff that detracts from the focus. Then again, all that messiness is what makes it feel more real, more fresh. Consider this of Teagan, one of the teen girls in SING, performing a Miley Cyrus song, "The Climb". One of the stage cameras was able to set up that angular shot to isolate her from the others.

"I see that. The folks in the audience would have seen only a sea of blue behind her."

Exactly. However, at today's concert, the solo singers came from the audience, not on stage, making them that much harder to see. I took that photo of Jayden Muncy singing Linda Ronstadt's "You're No Good", and doing a mighty fine job of it, but it's clear that I could hardly see her.

"Good thing that she had that red-hued hair! Yes, I see what you mean. I'm sure you were singing right along, too."

You know I did! But once I knew the soloists were seated in the audience, I didn't try to take any more photos of them. I just sat back and enjoyed the music, as well as the poetry.

"Well, as you've noted before, all lyrics are poems."

I stand behind that assertion, too, but that's not what I was referring to just then. There were several in Spectra Choir who recited poetry today. Lila Miller was one of those, performing a piece she wrote called "A Masters Degree In Mirrors". After the concert, at the reception in Holliday Hall, she set up shop, so to speak, behind a manual typewriter, producing "poetry on demand". Simply marvelous!!! When my turn came, she asked what topic I'd like her to use and I told her the first thing that came to mind: baseball. She thought for just a moment, selected a piece of pale blue paper, and started typing as I watched. Incredible!!!

"Oh, wow!!! That's the most cool thing ever!!! What did she write for you??"

Sharp like the diamond

precise, soft but not

     yielding

RUNNING from point

                    to point

(as we discover

                the purpose)

 

     this game, this uniform

 

   smiles bats sweat

joy and rage and the

                    competition

 

     in baseball and life

             a homerun

                    for everyone

 

     and the thrill

            of the win

what a difference a half-century makes... in a game show

Comcast has given me a variety of serial television shows to test-drive this week.

I never would have thought that "Family Feud" would have changed that much, nor had I realized how my perspective toward certain actions have changed in five decades.

I actually found myself feeling a bit squeamish watching those earlier shows!

Wow.

Here are a few examples of those changes, in visual format, as a picture truly is worth at least a thousand words.

 

Here is the part that got to me.

Richard Dawson would kiss all the females on the lips - young, old, white, black, married, single, or even still a child.

Macho entitlement behavior it was, but also part of the culture that still existed in the mid-1970's.

That part I could accept.

Some of those kisses though, like the one above, lingered a little too long.

It's obvious from her husband's expression that he is none too happy about that farewell kiss, but it was the last time Dawson would be kissing his wife, as the team had lost.

But, still, the kiss lasted long enough that I caught the shot easily.

The husband's brother is steadily watching his sibling to make sure he keeps his cool, so there's definite tension.

Still, by the time Dawson made it to the matriarch of the clan, the younger brother was all smiles as he watched mom get smooched.

Like I said, Dawson made sure to kiss all the females, each and everyone, though he did take his time a bit with the PYTs. 

 

How does that compare with Steve Harvey's actions?

In this day and age of "#MeToo", he would be courting a lawsuit to be landing lip smacks on any of them, and he is quite mindful of that.

Harvey may offer handshakes to outgoing teams, but usually only for older players.

 

What other differences were there?

Well, back in the mid-70's to 80's, the central showdown was a small counter space, with the contestants practically in each others faces.

Also, notice the attire of contestants.

Women wore dresses or skirts, men wore suits, and that's exactly the way it was.

The hair was all perfect, too.

Compare that to any episodes aired since the pandemic.

The showdown area consists of two separate counters, with space between.

Players are casual in dress and hairstyle.

During those early years of the show, the contestants would pose in the arched areas, then walk down several steps to the playing area.

Notice the dated color scheme, which would have seemed quite trendy in the 1970's.

Trust me... I grew up then.

The set today seems much brighter by contrast.

The arches to both sides still exist, but serve only to highlight the surnames of the contestants.

When the show opens, the contestants are already in place, awaiting the game host's arrival.

 

 

My guess is the steps were deemed too much of a tripping hazard for eager players, so those were eliminated.

The money has changed, too.

The top prize used to be $5,000, with the contestants facing off in five rounds, and the family reaching 300 points first were the ones who played for that cash.

Today, the top money is $20,000, with only four rounds of questions between the teams, except on those occasions when neither team reached 300 points; then, the fifth member of each team would play a showdown question that determined the winning team.

 

Wondering about that big difference in prize money?

Let me put that into perspective.

In the late 1970's, my paycheck as an E-5 in the Navy netted me about $8000 annually.

That's right: $8,000.

A prize of $5,000 was quite a royal sum of money!

What a difference fifty years makes!

a drop of water

Sometimes, a different perspective is needed.
This is definitely one of those times.
Yesterday, my first niece, my outlaw Melinda, and I spent five hours setting right the house of my little sister's dad. What a totally depressing afternoon.
I spent most of that time gathering bed linens, toweling, clothing, then evaluating the items. Salvageable? Too badly damaged by body fluids?
I also worked in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher twice, unloading it three times. Why? It had not yet been unloaded from a previous time when he had washed dishes.
I had it easy.
Christina and Melinda had the horror show in the main bathroom and the front bedroom.
Even so, the work, and the atmosphere in the house, took its toll on me, mentally, spiritually, and physically. One of the downsides of getting older, a downside that no one really talks about, is that of helping those dear to you bury their parents and siblings.
My dear Jo, from my high school days, lost her youngest brother on New Year's Day. Still no word on when his funeral will be, due to legal complications.
Sue's dad is again in the hospital. Word is that he may never come home again. We were there yesterday trying to make the house habitable before Sue arrives in a few weeks.
I doubt she will actually be able to stay there.
The smell of cigarette smoke swats you as soon as the front door is opened. It's engrained in the furniture, the carpeting, the very paint on the walls, even the air and the ice in the refrigerator. Even keeping the house open the entire time we were there could not dissipate those many years of smoke inhalation by the furnishings.
We have one more trip to make there, to haul the carpet to the dump.
I wish I was done with it.

what a difference a day makes, 24 little hours

"There's so much time in a day, Faustina.

You could have breakfast, lunch, and dinner on 3 different continents.

You could outline the book you're going to write, start the screenplay adaptation, and watch "Gone With The Wind," before the sun even sets.

Spend a day at work, and still have 16 hours left over.

Or you could just think 60,000 different thoughts as you tool all over Savannah.

Hey, the record for climbing Mt. Everest is under 9 hours, leaving 15 to nap and go Yeti searching. There's so much time in a day, Faustina. So much.

You're rich,
The Universe"

well, i can't chain him, can i

"I brought you into this world and I can take you out."
Uttered by Bill Cosby, the line is hilarious! After all, he's recounting a conversation with his son, probably teen-aged, during a moment of extreme boorishness on the son's part. However, we all know it would be a cold day in July before he would ever ACT on that threat. That means, of course, that the boy's life is safe in his father's hands. Right? As long as he's in the Northern hemisphere, that is.
Now, consider a case of a parolee, just released from prison. In the movie, we're not told why he was incarcerated; that's not the point. Suffice it to say that's he's been gone at least two decades and the small boy he left on the other side of the bars is now a grown man.
But... in the father's mind, the mental image of his son is frozen at that young age, that preschool innocence shining from his face. The picture of the boy is front and center in the dad's memories. Time stood still for that aspect of the man's life.
Now, consider that the very day the father is released on parole, he is informed that his son is dead, killed while burgling an occupied home. Moreover, on the day of his release, the son is being buried. The father never actually sees the son's body, so the mental image he carries is preserved, carrying over into a need for vengeance against the homeowner who killed the son.
Things get complicated, though. The father becomes aware that the man buried was not his little boy, but some random guy. His son, his all grown up son, has mob affiliations and has been whisked into witness protection until his testimony against the mobsters.
The father wants to see his son, wants to have a new image of the boy who grew up without him. Only this image is nightmare fuel. The man he sees is a serial killer of young girls, a brutal animal who is the star of many snuff films.
And the father makes a hard decision, but the right one. The son must be put down, as he cannot be chained.
Great story.
If you get a chance, see "Cold In July". The ending is exactly right.

speaking dingbat

I wonder if the translator programs on the web speak dingbat?

You talkin' to me?

Well, I'm rying to. This keyboard is no_ only noisy as heck, but the keys a_e also s_icky.

What? You seem to be missin_ some letters there at the end.

He_, you mjust missed one, too. That's okay, I seem _o have picked up an extra, so no worries. Of course, I've dropped a few mo_e along the way. Kind of like alphabet crumbs _o help find my way home...

Maybe that would be the better place to finish _his. It certainly would make it easie_ _o read.

No kidding. It's almost makin_ me lose my train of thought.
Back on _rack, you!
Arrgh!
Oh, I know what I can do! I can _o back and pu_ in the missing letters in bold _o make it all easie_ to read!
Or not.

Why, oh, why, did you come to this beach today???

Hmmm? Oh, right. My phone.

You_ cellphone skips letters when you _ext?

Hahaha! Don't be silly! No, all the letters are there, but sometimes they are in dingbat. Well, not really in dingbat, but certainly not in English.
Consider this conversation between me and Hai, on December 26th of last year.
me: Wanna pm tm tgd 4 pm tmdaw at Carmike?!?
him: What did your previous message say?
me (after looking back at my message): Pardon? i don't speak dingbat.

He really is a long-suffering friend, isn't he? (smile)

Hey, he's a sweet, smart cookie. He really is. Yeah, and maybe a little long-suffering...
Anywho, I was trying to see if he wanted to go to an afternoon movie, perhaps the latest Muppets film, and I was so excited about him having said "yes" that I wasn't watching what I sent into the airwaves. Yeah, that really is how it happened.
Oh, wait! That movie wasn't even out yet. I remember now: it was "47 Ronin"!!! Oh, yeah! And I got to see it with a guy who knows all about that sort of stuff - graphics novels and film remakes and swashbuckling!

And you were talking about your phone...?

Why, yes I was. How sweet of you to get me back to topic.

Well, I am trying to get out of this cold room, now that your student has finished his make-up Final Exam.

You'e right. It IS a bit brrr in here.
And these intermittent r's and t's and g's are an a_g_avation. As I was saying, ever since that episode with Hai, I've caught my phone doing silly stuff like that rather frequently. I'll be zinging along in autospell and hit "send"... only to find the message did NOT read what I had meant to say.
I honestly do not know what dictionary was used, as I cannot fathom the_e being one in which "zoninn" is a preferred word choice over "woohoo"... honestly!
Sure, I can understand the phone not knowing some p_ope_ nouns, like "Abercorn" and "Habersham", which are both local street names. I have no problem with "teaching" it those words. But I do object when it doesn't know "bellydance" or when it opts to throw in "hands" when I thought I typed "games".
Maybe I should give up on using the autospell feature. I find it slows me down almost more than it speeds my _esponses. Maybe I'll give it a few more t_ies.
What do you think I should do?

Go home. Now. P-l-e-a-s-e.

Sho' 'nuff! Color me g-o-n-e!

pulling it out by the roots

I was in a foul mood when my first niece arrived.
I had gone to Weight Watchers to find I had gained several pounds.
Not good. I was plenty upset about it.
My plan had been to retreat home and sulk.
No sooner did I arrive home than she pulled in the driveway.
Determined to cut short her stay, I met her outside.
We talked out there for about thirty minutes, standing by her vehicle.
No sign that she would soon be leaving.
Aggravated at having my pity party interrupted, I started pulling weeds. You know, channel some of that destructive urge into something positive.
And you know what?
She began pulling up dandelions with me, following my lead, grabbing their leaves together near the base and hoisting them, roots and all, out of the ground.
Sometimes, the leaves would tear off.
Sometimes, the long taproot would break in half.
Every broken piece oozed white, milky, sticky blood.
All the while, we talked about kids and school and "Divergent".
We did this for almost three hours.
And you know what?
My funk lifted.
I never did talk to her about the Weight Watchers meeting.
I just didn't feel like dragging that out there.
And you know what?
She allowed me to leave it out.
She knows I will talk about it when I'm ready to do so.
She is generous enough to wait me out.

I do so love that girl.
Coincidence that she came by?
You're kidding, right?
We both know she was on a mission from my mother.

pardon me, sir, there are bees in my aquarium

Doesn't that patch of purple-studded greenery look like aquatic flora to you?
Maybe you have to hold your mouth just right to see it. Go ahead, I'll wait while you try that. Maybe squint your eyes a little, too.
No?
Then maybe it's just me and my perspective.
Today, I had arrived early to campus and was wandering through the International Gardens, soaking up sunshine, basking under the blue sky. I had paused to sit on one of the stone benches in the amphitheatre, to make like a lizard and indulge in the sensation of warmth from all directions into my body.
Ahhhhhhhh....
Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement in the above spring scene. Bees? Wasps?
As I allow my gaze to follow their meanderings amongst the stems and leaves and tiny flowerlets, I am hit by a stray thought! Bam!
By hardly any stretch of the imagination, that plot of land could be an uncaged aquarium!
Can't you see it, too?
Or is it mere coincidence that I, an ocean-lover, make that correlation?

like grains of sand

Today was a blustery day at the beach... but Barbara and I went walking there anyway.
It was the first blue-sky day that we had been both free... and I had leftover popcorn for the seagulls.

I had taken some photos of my hair this morning.
This is an important step in my moving on process.
I've been trying to become more accepting
of my current age, to better embrace the me as I am, by substituting my present appearance into my mental image of me.
You see, I tend to carry around an image that is long overdue for an update. But I'm working on changing that, as I mentioned earlier this month.
Comparing the gray steaking of my hair to the racing stripes on the beach today is a fabulous way to celebrate the me of now. Coincidence? Of the best kind! The coean and I, both with gray highlights to whip around in the breeze - I can think of no perspective more pleasing!

texting with the ex

Ever since Thursday, a lot of words have sped along in the ether between his phone in Michigan and mine here in Georgia. Especially this week. We have "spoken" every day for three days in a row.
His cousin's death has hit him the hardest of any of the others (his mom, our friend Jim Adams, our friend Sam Johnson, my stepbrother, and David's sweetheart) over the past decade.
I'm sure that is due to time and circumstances being different now. After all, he will be 49 years old next month.

He grew up in a small family.
He was raised as an only child by his divorced mom. She eventually had remarried, for a few years, adding two stepsisters to his life. He didn't know them well, as they were a bit older than him.
His dad went on to remarry and have several children, but my ex never knew them, never even knew of their existence until I had tracked down his dad almost ten years ago. (That was after my ex - still husband at the time - had the first two stents placed into his heart. I had wanted to get a more complete medical picture.)
I think his dad had two sisters, maybe three. I don't recall any brothers. At any rate, the ex did not grow up with them in his life, nor any children they may have had.
His mom only had one living sister. Through her, the ex grew up with two male cousins and one female cousin. Those were the only cousins he ever knew.
As I said, he had a small family.
I don't know if that increased the perceived impact of each death. I don't think so, but I don't know. Perhaps some studies have been done on the subject?
But he and David were close and had grown closer over the past six years. When the ex would come to Georgia to visit his elder daughter, he would also swing up to Tennessee on his return trip and spend some time with his cousin. It allowed him some time with family, with people who knew and loved him.
The other cousins and his aunt live in Minnesota and Virginia. Not exactly "on his way" for his travels from Michigan southward.
The loss of David is a huge hole in his heart.

The ex and I have remained close, as I've mentioned a time or two. That's a good thing for both of us. After all, we are still family, we still know and love each other.

So, the following are transcriptions of our conversations since Monday evening.
No, wait.
I'll include the one from last Thursday, too, when I'd lunched with his aunt and uncle here in town.

Thursday, Nov 7, 2013
(About 3:30 PM, after sending him two pictures taken during the lunch with his Aunt and Uncle.)

me: At Huey's on River Street.
ex: I didn't realize they were in Savannah!
me: Are in Hilton Head. Got there on Monday. We had a very nice lunch!
ex: I'm guessing they needed a break after Tennessee.
me: Yes. Very sad about David. {Auntie} Arlene is exhausted.
me: We talked very briefly about David and Chris {David's son}. Then we dropped the topic. Did you know that David was going to have to move out of the house?
me: I can understand why he may have felt there was no other option for him. Very sad.
ex: I didn't know that. Was that what the fight between him and Gwen's family was about?
me: Yes. There may have been other issues that I don't know. Arlene made it seem to have been a longer running thing. Could have just been since Gwen got cancer.
me: The question of what to do with the house would have been raised then.
me: The house was Gwen's and the land had been her mom's. Her mom wanted it back and wanted David out. Arlene was there cleaning it out for the bank to take it.
ex: What a mess. I've been saying that if something was enough to break even the devil-may-care David down, who are we to say that it wouldn't have done the same to us...
me: You are absolutely right. But you have to remember he was a sentimental man. The timing was all too hard.
me: David had arranged for a friend to come over at a specific time. Instead Chris came there unexpectedly and found him. Very sad.
ex: I'm betting I know which friend. They told me about him while I was there.
me: Arlene mentioned his name but I don't recall. She said David had evidently given it all some thought and wanted to not have family find him.
me: Instead Chris came home and found him. Then he ran down the street to the bank where Stephanie {David's daughter} was working and said "I think Dad has hurt himself."
ex: Already in shock. He couldn't bring himself to say what ultimately had happened. The best laid plans.
me: I know. One never knows what will happen. Neither of the kids wanted to go into the house so Arlene took care of cleaning it out.
me: Stephanie and Daniel had her over for dinner every night.
ex: I'm sure they did. Daniel's a nice guy.
me: That's what Auntie said. She really likes him.
ex: Even Goldie, the rescue dog they had, knew something bad was going on. She came and sat next to me on the couch straight away. Years of visits and I couldn't get her to do that.
me: Jeff I am so very sorry about David. I always liked him and I know he meant a lot to you.
ex: Thank you honey.

That was one of the most difficult conversations I've ever had. Oddly, texting the news instead of speaking it somehow made it more real, more solid. The power of the printed word, perhaps.
Now on to this week's word exchanges.

Monday, 11 Nov 2013
(The ex had contacted me earlier, texting about Earl Grey tea and tomato soup, then I had to go to work. This is the resumption of the talk, about 9 PM.)

me: Okay all done with lab. Yeah!
ex: We had our first snow today. As you may guess, I'm not very happy.
ex: it was 41 this morning and the temperature slowly dropped all day. We bottom out at 26 tonight.
me: Much
me: Ouch
me: Damn phone.
me: Has been very cold at night here too. Will be in thirties on Wednesday.
ex: Hot tea and extra blankets tonight.
me: Yeah me too. At least you are not living in a tent in the woods. That is what Ronnie is doing.
me: My heat is not working so I have a space heater in the living room. Blocked off the sunroom and guest room so that helped. I hope next week is warm.
me: I am glad that I have a heated mattress pad. Could not live without it.
ex: He's still doing that?
me: Oh yeah. No rules but his.
ex: I have no idea what to say to that. But you're right.
me: I know. I called him today to check in and he complained about the cold but didn't say he needed anything. So I didn't offer.
ex: I think that was the correct card to play.
me: I knew it was. If I offer but he didn't ask then he regards it as free.

Tuesday, 12 Nov 2013
(The next morning, the conversation resumed about 8:30 AM and went for an hour.)

ex: I didn't see that your heat wasn't working because I was still incredulous over your running comment. How have you blocked off the sunroom since it's open space? Is John not there, that you were able to block off the guest room?
me: Joe (the peace Guy) moved to Atlanta in early August. As for the sunroom, I hung a sheet between it and the kitchen. Seems to work well.
ex: If it works, it works. By the way, your low last night will be our high today.
me: That sucks. Our high tomorrow is in the fifties. That really sucks.
ex: Here, that would be pleasant. Hell, more than pleasant. Unseasonably warm.
me: And THAT is why I don't ever want to live at that latitude.
ex: I'm sure my blood is getting thicker. I just won't ever get it used to the idea.
me: That makes it a matter over mind thing. Lol.
ex: Lottery hasn't been any kinder to me in Michigan that it was in Georgia. At least I'm no longer throwing away hundreds of dollars at a time (casino).
me: I keep trying with Publishers Clearing House. No luck so far. :)
ex: Oh how priorities change. I used to want to make great spots. Now I just walk on eggshells, capitulating to every whim (however stupid) of the sales people, just so I can crawl to my 5 year mark. The last time I had three weeks vacation per year, I was in the service.
me: Five year mark?
ex: The dream is in sight. Rather than take a week at a time, I'll just dot the calendar with the three- and four-day weekends all year.
me: Nice. That tends to be what I do.
ex: Yes, I've been at MacDonald Broadcasting for 3 years now. September.
ex: And why not? There are so many things to see and do in Michigan and the Great Lakes region. Grand Rapids. Toledo. Indianapolis. Chicago. Cinci. Cleveland. And now that Bob's in Des Moines, I foresee a long drunk weekend in the immediate future.
me: Not what I meant. Do you get tenure or something at five years?
ex: I don't think it's thought of as a tenure thing in our business; it's more just a perk and thank you for helping keep the company stable.
ex: It's never been something I thought of because I never came close to five years at a radio station before.
me: So what do you get at five years? Just more vacation?
ex: Probably. It would be nice if I got a raise. Honestly, though, I make enough. I'd rather have more time than more money. Very soon D {his younger daughter} turns 18 and that will be an extra knot in my pocket every month.
ex: Although my BlueCross just jumped up...so not as big a knot as I had hoped.
me: Yeah that will be February. You won't need to pay for medical insurance on her either.
ex: Au contraire! Obamacare will make me carry her until age 26. And I want to. She's going to need every bit of help she can get...and that help will be expensive.
me: Heard. Good of you to take care of her like that.
ex: That's another reason I keep my head down, keep my mouth shut and do my work.
me: You keep trying. That is good.
ex: I'm trying to straighten things out. The boulder is at the bottom of the hill every day.
me: Think of those hills as in succession, not the SAME hill.
ex: I could have it worse. I could be living in a tent, freezing my ass off in a sleeping bag. And not by choice.
me: He has been like this for years now. He counts on the holiday spirit to make folks more generous toward him. It is very tiring.
ex: How serendipitous that the holidays come at a time when the weather turns bad and someone like him needs help the most.

ex: Wow! Looks professionally done!
me: Thanks! Sam does that at her house to block off the upstairs. She only heats the downstairs. Has heated mattress pads on all beds.
me: As for Ronnie, yes. He may not believe in Christmas but he knows the rest of us do.
ex: I didn't word that well. I didn't mean to imply that he works that happenstance...even though, deep down, we know he does.
me: Oh yes. He most certainly does. He times it on purpose. He gets tired of working and this is his way of getting others to take care of him.
me: I have confronted him about it and he doesn't deny it.
me: I pay for him to have a phone every month. Just as I have ever since his TIA. That way he can call for help if he needs it.
ex: Well, I admire the fact that he admits it. That means he's true to his belief. However, it's not very smart. Knowing he's an unrepentant freeloader gives me all the reason I need to not enable him.
me: Smitty is of that mind. Throws him some work from time to time but gives him nothing.

Wednesday, 13 Nov 2013
(Out of the blue, after 10 PM.)

ex: The picture of David and Gwen...where is that from, again?
ex: ...and when?
me: 5 July, 2009, at Nags Head. It was the K&k family reunion.
ex: I'm kicking myself for not having gotten photos with them in 2010, when they visited Mary and me in Birmingham. We were at this cute little place caleed the Bottle Tree Cafe but the lighting indoors was too low for pictures.
me: Didn't you send me a photo of that place? By email. I may still have it.
ex: I still have all the photos I took of the decor and the sign with the actual sculpture. Not one of me or my family.
me: Auntie said they took video at the reunion in Minnesota this summer.
ex: Yeah, they talked about that last month.
me: Maybe they will post it online.
ex: I'm taking old photos on my phone and cataloguing them on the computer.
ex: I don't know how much more I can take this.
me: Pardon? Want to talk?
ex: It's alright, but thank you...it's late. I'm going to brush my teeth and go to bed.
me: Love you, Jeff. I am here if you want to talk.
ex: Thank you. I love you too.
me: I took a lot of photos. Will send you the links. I even have a few from that trip to Virginia Beach. That was definitely a fun day.
ex: That trip where we were putting out so much radiation that we could bake a potato in our hands?
me: Yes that's the one!
ex: F&k. It hurt to sit it hurt to stand it hurt to move...It hurt to BE.
me: :-)
me: Just sent the link for the VA Beach pics.
me: Be sure to wear your sunglasses!
ex: I didn't mention that last Thursday, Living Colour was in Flint on a tour celebrating the 25th anniversary of their first album. They played it in its entirety.

ex: They played Walk on The Wild Side since Lou Reed just passed. They played Should I Stay or Should I Go by The Clash as the last song. The chorus was played at thrash metal speed.
me: TOTALLY awesome!

Then, on that up-note, we signed off. I bounced over to facebook, to raid my albums there for signs of life.
I found them.
I had five albums with David in them.
I sat there and cried, remembering how much fun he was to be around, feeling the void in the world.
Very sad.
I sent links to the albums to the ex, to the cousins, to the daughter.
And I went to bed.

yippeekiiaye

So, what was your first thought when you saw this?
I know the card was meant to be a congratulatory message.
That isn't my take on it.
Nosirreebob.
That's why I added the exclamation point!
Want to guess? Come on, just one guess!
*
*
*
*
*
Still no?
*
*
*
*
*
Okay, are you ready for this?
*
*
*
Think banditos and a stagecoach... Yeah! It's straight out of a Western, isn't it?!
That's what I told my youngest brother when I was writing to him today.
I think he'll get a churckle out of it.
I did!

2 txt is to talk - almost!

23 july 4:31 pm
me: Vroom, vroom!
joe: What? Did you buy a new car?
me: LOL! No, but that's a funny response!

23 july 5:12 pm
* * * about an upcoming PFS movie * * *
me: Jim isn't sayin'.
me: All we know is it's a movie with Albert Brooks.
bfe: BTW on a funny note, I thought the movie was called, "Jim isn't saying"!
me: HahaHA! that's a hoot!

1 aug 11:59 Am
hai: Soooo guess who got a job at the new learning Commons at AASU? (Points to self) This Guy right here!!!!
me: Heard that from Beer. Congratulations!
hai: Soooo I'm DEF thinking this Saturday at the Distillery after Last of the Mohicans. You in?
me: Yes!

3 aug 3:31 pm
hai: hey are you going to see last of the mohicans tonight? If so do you want to be my Girl Friday on a Saturday?
me: No, dear, am on my way to ATL with Joe. will be back later 2nite.
hai: Oh okay just checking. I'll see you later tonight right?!!?!!?!
me: Yes, dear! :-)
hai: Good good I better see you tonight ... or ELSE!!!!
* * * about six hours later * * *
me: Hai, I am not going to make it. But i do want to still take you to 17hundred90. Will that be ok?
hai: Gasp!!!! My soul is wounded!!!! J/K It's fine.
me: :-) love you!
hai: Love you more :-)

6 aug 11:09 am
me: Good morning!
joe: Good morning! Just putting things away. Damn, i have a lot of shit!
me: Working on stuff to Goodwill today.
joe:I do nelieve you have more stuf but also more room. And u r bribging stuff 2 goodwill and not even moving!
me: Every once in a while, i just have to get rid of some stuff. Keeps down my hoarder tendencies.
Joe: Need 2 examine my own hoarder tendencies. But right now i need 2 start getting ready 4 work.
joe: Thanks 4 checking in.
me: Call me 2nite to tell me about ur 1st nite w SW.
joe: will do

... and he did and we talked for 45 minutes... very nice!


8 aug 12:24 pm
* * * after a PFS showing of two episodes of "The Amazing Randi" * * *
me: I was a magician"s assistant 2nite!
Joe: Oooh! Did he make u disappear?
me: Hahaha! No, but he did make a dollar bill i burned re-appear!

bras, from a different perspective

A Chinese guy goes into a Jewish-owned establishment to buy black bras, size 38. The Jewish store keeper, known for his skills as a businessman, says that black bras are rare and that he is finding it very difficult to buy them from his suppliers. Therefore he has to charge $50.00 for them. The Chinese guy buys 25 pairs.
He returns a few days later and this time orders fifty.
The Jewish owner tells him that they have become even harder to get and charges him $60.00 each. The Chinese guy returns
a month later and buys the store's remaining stock of 50, and this time for $75.00 each.
The Jewish owner is somewhat puzzled by the large demand for black size 38 bras and asks the Chinese guy, "...please tell me - What do you do with all these black bras?"
The Chinese guy answers: "I cut them in half and sell them as skull caps to Jewish men for $200.00 each."

The above joke reminds me of a scene in one of my favorite movies, "How To Train Your Dragon". The father, Stoick, is welcoming his son, Hiccup, into the world of dragon slaying and presents him with a helmet, fitted with large horns to either side and an exact copy of the father's own helmet.
"Your mother would have wanted you to have it. It's half of her breastplate."
He adds, as he taps his own helmet, "matching set."
Of course, when you understand that these Vikings are fairly isolated in their island community, then recycling or repurposing of already fashioned goods is a way of life. Nothing should be discarded until it is falling apart, and even then it could be used as fuel.
Having said that, I do wish to add that there was a sentimental reason for reuse of the mother's breastplate as headgear.
"Keeps her... keeps her close, you know."
Yeah. I've always had a soft spot for teddy bear hearts in grizzly bear bodies.

benny, baby!

Yesterday, the faculty reading roundtables and teaching groups gave brief presentations on their preoccupations over the course of the school year almost ended. Some groups had a hand-out, some had a powerpoint presentation, some had both (mine did). But two of the groups contained the same thwarted thespian, the same entertainer of the masses and would-be center of the world.
Well, maybe not that last part.
Then again...?
The thespian presented a slide show for his teaching/grant-writing group. Using humor, he likened his exploits in search of financial aid with those of Jack Benny. The slide show may have lasted a bit long, but all in attendance, myself included, definitely were entertained!
For his next act, for the reading roundtable, he made use of one of his team mates to serve as introducer of the physicist he was bringing to life. He made sure everyone understood just what a skirt-chasing, egotistical, immoral, boor Richard Feynman was as a person. I actually guffawed when he was introduced and started his spiel, but I was alone. Everyone else, in particular every woman there, was glued to him and his performance. Incredibly, they all seemed to be taking him to be the genuine article! Could it be that they mistakenly believed him and this other physicist to have the same personality?

me: Quite entertaining presentation today!
bfe: Thank you! Which one, Jack Benny and denial or Feynman. I bet Feynman.
me: Actually, i liked the Benny better. Feynman was such an ass.
bfe: I agree. Feynman... he's not very sympathetic.

Well, at least he and I knew better.

peanut butter & Elvis, too

So, here's a funny thing!

What? You talkin' to me?

Yep! Guess what I had the other day for lunch at the school? I'll even give you a hint: Elvis would have thought it was pretty dope!

What?! Okay, this is all because you went to that Georgia Elvis Festival, isn't it? So, now you think there is some special significance to this coincidence, right?
You know I'm right.

Hmphf. You know, just because you don't lend an event any importance doesn't mean the event was not significant.

Oh, c'mon, I'm just playing with you. What did you have for lunch?

Okay, but don't laugh... I had the Peanut Butter Elvis Melt!!!

Seriously? The school thought the kids would go for that?

I have no idea what the chef thought. Maybe, just maybe, he knew about the Elvis festival and wanted to pay it homage! Or maybe the stars aligned since I was going there for lunch and he was inspired to create this dish especially for me.

Seriously? I mean.. SERIOUSLY???

Yes. It could happen. Little miracles like that happen all the time to brighten life.

Oh, so now we've gone from "coincidence" to "miracle"? Really?

You know, you don't have to believe, but I choose to do so. When I walked in to The Galley and was looking around to see what was offered for lunch today, this entree brought a big smile to my face and my heart. THAT is what makes it important: it reminded me of happy times at Spring Break, happy times with Mama.

You're right, of course. Just because something is not relevant to one person does not mean that there isn't meaning in it for another. We each have our own version of the world, after all.
Okay, tell me about this food you're talking about.

Thank you, thankyouverymuch.
Sorry, I couldn't help myself!
Actually, I could have stopped myself, but I chose not to do so.
I don't know why people say that: "Sorry, I couldn't help myself." Of course they could have. They simply chose not to do so. Then, as an apologetic thing to smooth any ruffled feathers, they offer that phrase.

Um, weren't you going to tell me about your lunch?

Oh, right. Okay, here it is: two thick slabs of white bread, spread with peanut butter and filled with crispy bacon strips and sliced banana, then smeared with butter on the outside and grilled.
It was gLoRiOuS!!!

Elvis would have agreed, I'm sure! How often do they offer that?

Well, that's the thing: I've never seen it on the lunch or dinner menu. I suppose it's possible that they may have it at breakfast, but I wouldn't know as I don't ever attend that meal at school.
The Melt is a rather labor intensive sandwich, so I cannot imagine they would offer it at such a busy time. Heck, the Galley may well never have it again, as much time as it takes to make it.
I think this may have been a one-time, never-before, never-again thing.
That makes it even more meaningful!

when i'm 64

That was one of Mama's songs that she liked to sing. When i am sixty-four, i will be one year older than she was when she died.

Where are you going with this?

I'm just sayin', that's all.

Dear, i've been around enough that i know that when you use that phrase, you usually have something to say. So, out with it! Stop your dillydallying and speak your piece about whatever it is that you have on your mind.

Well, okay, but i want you to acknowledge that YOU asked for it.

Fine. I asked for it.

Yesterday, i went to a children's movie with my bff and lost my mind.

Jeez! Is that it? Aw, come on, you cry at animated films almost all the time. I'm not sure, further experimental data is needed to verify, but i believe you cry more often at animated films than you do at live action movies. Truly!

(Exasperated, elongated sigh.) I really can't recall, Perhaps, but i doubt it, as i have over-reactive tear ducts.

Hahaha!! Oh, that's priceless! No, what you have is an over-active imagination which allows you to integrate, perhaps, too deeply into the entertainment. Remember, they're all just poor little fictional characters -

You now, the purpose of attending an entertainment event is to allow one a respite from one's own existence and a brief interlude in someone else's world. It matters not whether the event is reading a book or listening to a concert or viewing a film.

(Stifling another chortle.) Fine, fine. (grin.) What movie was it this time?

(Sidelong glance, assessing the other.) Well, it was the new one, just opened yesterday, in fact, and my bff had pleaded by text before her visit that i agree to go see it with her. So i did. And we BOTH got a little teary at the end, though i suppose for different reasons. I don't really know. How odd.

Why odd?

That we didn't discuss WHY we teared up at the end. Don't you think that's odd?

(Shrug of shoulders.)

And off i go on anoher tangent. Yes, i know. Maybe i'm trying to avoid the topic i broached at the onset of this rant. Or is it a rave?

Seriously?

Fine. Here's my point. (Deep breath.) Okay, on Thursday, i had my portrait painted. No, not for posterity, but it will exist for about a month or so, i think. You recall that kickstarter project about the wall mural downtown?

(Nod of head.)

Well, some of my fliss funding went into that. Every month, a new artist will get to place their handiwork up for all to enjoy, then the next artist comes up to bat. So to speak. Perhaps i should have said "with brush in one hand and palette in the other." And someone else films the process for each artist, then the filmed work is placed online for all the backers to enjoy, so we can appreciate the end result in case we live too far away to visit the actual wall.

I thought we were talking about a movie???

I'm getting there! I have to set it up first, so you can better understand how my head was working. Lord knows, i wish i'd had someone to set it up for me!

You are definitely different, dear.

Don't i know it. KidSyc even talks about that in a song, too! "You say you know i'm different, i say i know i'm different, that's why i'm so terrific, that's why you're noticing me." You know, i think i would seriously enjoy sitting in on on of his class sessions.

(Incredulously) So, you think he wrote the song about you?

Maybe, maybe not. We have met a couple of times! (laughing) But i don't think he wrote it for me. I know he used the song when he was trying to help a local charity get some much-needed funding,

So... you were talking about some wall downtown... ?

Right. So, the first artist had painted this edge of the marsh scene, very nice, with lots of blue sky above and sand along the bottom. As if, perhaps, you were standing in the shallow water and gazing at the near distance. Quite nice.
The second artist chose to allow that work to stand undisturbed, mostly, painting stenciled flowers randomly between the marsh edge and sand foreground. Then, the word was sent out: any kickstarter backers who would like their likeness embedded in a flower, come on down!
So i did on Wednesday evening, having a bit of time on my hands. But the artisit was busy with locals who had come by, especially some children. After introducing myself, i pledged to return the next day.
And i did, but again there was a line of folks waiting to have their portrait become part of the new artwork.
So i waited. I talked to the folks there, discussing whether the stone in my ring is a citrine or citron. (It's a citrine, a lovely lemon-colored quartz.) We discussed the music, as the songs were familiar, but not by the particular artists performing them, underpinning the tunes with new meanings. (Such as, "Respect" being sung by a man, rather than Aretha.)
I watched three little blondes as their images became part of the visual dialogue, three little blondes who, at first glance, seemed so similar. But the artist was able to capture the nuances of their features, bringing to the fore the individuality of each girl. Over the course of an hour, i watched as he distilled their "sameness" into unique beings. Magic for sure!
Then it was my turn. I sat in the chair and had my real image captured, then settled in to allow him to see ME. And he did, in about ten minutes. And at first, i really enjoyed it. Dark brush strokes for the hair, mixing of tones for the face, put the tongue in or keep sticking it out? I decided to keep it in, so he finished up the lips, even adding a bit of what i thought of as gloss. Fun! And the bright green for the arms of the cheap sunglasses - definitely! And then he placed the splashes of gray into my hair, and, even though i knew in my heart that he was right and he had been successful in his task, that image was incongruent with the mental image of myself which i carry around in my mind. Was i truly that gray??? Surely not... right?
Then i thanked him and went off to prepare for my dinner party that evening.

You didn't realize you had gray hair? That's what you want me to believe?

No, i am quite aware that i have gray hair. I just hadn't realized how MUCH. And it was startling to see it reflected back to me through another's eyes. That's all.

And still we haven't gotten to the movie...

Okay!! Jeez, i thought you didn't believe in nagging!

Only for you, dear, only for you.

Fine. So, now you have the background. My feet are being swept out from under me by a young wave and my hair tells me i'm older. No, NOT old, just oldER. Okay?

I said nothing...

Nor did you need to. So, i'm watching this animated film about this strong-willed redhead and realize: the previews didn't spoil it. We had NO IDEA where this story was leading us. Pleasant surprise!
And i start noticing the gray in the mother's hair. Not salt and pepper, not scattershot like mine. No.
Her hair was adorned with the silvery gray, like my mother's had been.
And suddenly i was missing Mama. And i was feeling older.
And it was just a bit too much for me.

Well, dear, you do have the option of washing that gray right out of your hair, you know. You did so for years. As did Mama.

Yes, i know. And it could well be that i am now the age at which Mama stopped coloring her hair. If not, i must be close. Maybe. I had stopped dyeing my hair about March or April of 2010. I was dating an older fellow and i was curious about the quantity of gray i now possessed, My hair had lost color so slowly over the passing months that i somehow overlooked the evidence that the ratio of gray to dark was higher than i had supposed it was.
Now, i still may not notice the gray, but it shows up in pictures, so i cannot deny its existence.
And that freaked me out.

So, get some color on it! That's an easy enough fix!

And i had considered that. I am still considering that course of action. But earlier on Friday, i had bought a bottle of ash blonde, thinking that i would give it a whirl, maybe it would just color the gray but not affect my natural dark tone. And when i pulled it out to show her, after the movie, she jumped all over me for choosing such a light color, telling me that she wouldn't even go that pale for HER hair. And next thing you know, i'm in tears and telling her i don't want to look old and i don't know what to do and i miss my mom and i'm boy-crazy.
And she takes each issue and we deal with it. Right then and there.
And i felt much better.
And i had put up a question in the status line of my social network: To dye or not?
And i was amazed how many responded!
And even though the answers were mixed, it was good to know that folks had taken the time to think about the question and to think about me.
And i've placed that topic on hold for now. It's been two years, it'll keep a little longer.

Good. I think that's a good idea, give it some time to breathe and develop into a final plan.

You know, sometimes, i just need someone to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay.

I know, dear, i do. And when you need that, you get on the phone and let folks know so they can help, you hear? No one can read anyone else's mind, so if you don't tell them what you want, they have no way of knowing.
Right?
Hey!
Right???

Yes'm. Message received.
I am doing better at that, and i'll surely keep working on it.
And now i'm going to get outside for a bit, maybe go and visit that wall before the improv workshop.
And i'm taking a dress for tonight's dinner with the physicist.