the hills are alive!!!

 

So sang Julie Andrews from the very start of "The Sound Of Music"! 

So sang we at Asbury Memorial tonight, keeping pace with her!

How appropriate that this sing-along was in Holliday Hall so Miss Virginia could be there, too, singing with all of us to this classic musical!

I was between Ellie and Robin and it absolutely didn't matter that we were a little pitchy or a bit off-key.

The point was sharing this experience - and that we certainly did!

Mickie Townsend started things off by sharing the story behind a song that led to her 50-year marriage.

She had broken off seeing Bob, as he was studying to be a preacher and she didn't want to be locked into life as a 'preacher's wife'.

Somehow, they were both at the cinema for this movie.

And when the song "Climb Ev'ry Mountain" was done, she knew Bob was 'the one' for her.

He would help her fashion that wifely position into one unique to her.

Bravo to that Louisiana pair!

I'm so glad I was there!

 

Earlier, around 5:15 pm, I'd popped into Jalapenos of Sandfly for the S&K Friday Fiesta and was the very first one there.

That's because its start time had shifted to 5:30 since Addison came home for summer break.

Claudia helped me shift our two tables together and set me up with chips and salsa - perfect!

Tybee Mike came over to see how I was - how very nice!

Then, at last, Smitty and Mary arrived... and had extras along!

Tyler, now 29, was there with little Theo, the Pip - oh, how he's grown!

Plus, Robin had come in from Ellabell, at Laura's request - wonderful!!!

I visited with all for about 40 minutes, then headed out for the party at Asbury.

That was all to the good! 

My brothers had been surprised to see me at all, as I'd told them both on Wednesday that I would be absent.

AARP was hosting a 'Happy Hour Get Together', with food and games and trivia, so that was where I was booked to be!

 

Sadly, that turned out to be a bust.

I was the only one who showed up for that AARP-sponsored soiree at Savannah Technical College.

It was to have started at 4 PM and gone until 7 PM, but the only car in the whole parking lot was my little Saturn.

I had followed all the signs to the promised "Event Parking"... 

but there was no event. 

Eckburg Auditorium was locked tight.

I took a stroll around campus, looking for someone to ask about the situation, but no one was there.

Sure, I hadn't arrived until close to 4:30, but... I was the only one who came.

I persisted in staying for about thirty minutes, hopeful for others.

Nope.

That's when I headed for Sandfly, arriving early but still finding my people. 

Then I'd gone to the sing-along, for food and fellowship and "My Favorite Things", finding more of my people there.

Life is good!

(smile!)

hush, hush, i thought i heard her calling my name

Okay, so, by this stage in the game, we all are aware that watching movies is a favorite activity of mine.
It's even better when I have someone watching the movie with me, but I still enjoy it as a solo experience.
And, if I'm at a kid-friendly movie and kids are in the audience, I expect some level of chatter now and then. Not a problem. That's to be expected, with the attending parent hurriedly shushing the child(ren) after the outburst.
I've even become somewhat inured to the pre-film "peas and carrots" sibilance from folks sitting in groups (usually pairs or trios). I occasionally will glance behind me, in their direction, to remind them to "hush, hush, voices carry". As a rule, that chatter disappears when the previews are over and the main attraction has begun.
However, once the movie begins, I expect the audience to participate through laughs and tears, but to keep their mouths closed. After all, the two holes in the head for listening cannot effectively work if the one hole for talking is still emanating sound.
Some people have never learned that lesson.
Those same people also believe they can somehow alter the course of a movie by talking loudly to the characters on the screen.
I don't know, maybe that course of action does yield results in their living room, with their televisions.
You know, like folks believe when they're watching a televised football or baseball game and think their cheering and advice are truly making a difference to the results of the game?
Or, you know, when folks are following their favorite characters on the soap operas and give unheeded advice and get all upset when the plots don't unfold the way they would like?
When you're in the privacy of your own abode, you should definitely feel free to jump and shout and yelp as often as you please. As long as you're having fun and those around you are entertained, go for it!
Some cinema attendees, however, fail to make the distinction between the screening room in the cinema and their personal living room. These folks evidently do not go to the cinema very often.
I doubt they know the Joe South tune, "Hush", even though it goes back to the mid-1960's and has gospel roots. Still, if they had purchased a cola at the cinema, they would have seen the above message on their cup and, like me, been reminded of the song. Or, at the very least, been reminded to minimize their vocal outbursts.
Not so tonight.
I attended a free advance screening with my first niece. She was familiar with the film "Beyond The Lights" and was eager to see it, especially as it starred Gugu Mbatha-Raw. I knew little of the movie except it was about the life of a singer and was free.
Apparently, that last point was the driving force that brought quite a few folks to the cinema tonight. I'd be willing to wager good money that some of these people had not been to a cinema in more than a year. To them, it must have seemed like a very large living room.
Consequently, television-watching mode kicked in and these folks talked, loudly, back to the screen throughout the movie. They no doubt were encouraged to continue doing so when their initial outbursts were not quelled by those sitting near them.
My guess is: they were middle-aged or older and unaccustomed to being in cinemas.
Christina and I would look at each other and grin at the inane vocalisms, but we didn't say anything to the loud-talkers. If the folks hosting the event didn't confront them, then who were we to do so?
Still, I would hope the people at Relativity Media and at WEAS-FM (aka E93) will learn from this experience and, perhaps at the next screening, issue a gentle reminder about cinema etiquette.
Hopefully.

must have been whle you were kissing me

... you took the words right out of my mouth!

The next man I ever kiss needs to see the romance in the Meat Loaf.

The next man I ever kiss needs to believe Steinman wrote some of the best love songs ever.

The next man I ever kiss has some pretty big shoes to fill.

it's so tragic that i, in the prime of my life, cannot love someone living instead

Speaking of coincidences, here's another one.
Earlier this month (on the 9th), the peace Guy and I were both home on a Saturday afternoon, not doing anything in particular. I had popped my "Happy Songs" cd into the player and was listening to it while doing stuff on the computer.
Well, of course I'm singing along, since that is what I do.
At one point, the peace Guy comes into the room and says to me, "What on Earth are you listening to?"
You see, the line above had just been enthusiastically sung by me.
He apparently was not familiar with that Fossil tune. "Josephine Baker" is a quasi-mournful, cheeky song that always brings a smile to my face! Hence, it is one of my "Happy Songs"!
So, I explain that to him and he tells me about her - Josephine Baker - being featured in an animated French film.
Say what?!
Super cool!
He brings up the film segment featuring her and we both watch it together.
Super cool!
Then, four days ago, Cercle Francais is showing that film as their free monthly movie.
And I found out about it via an email.
And it was the first I had ever heard about them having free monthly movies, which they apparently do on a regular basis.
Like, monthly, during the school year.
And the movie was being shown on a Thursday, an open night for me.
You better believe I was there!
When the heavens throw a party for you, you have to go!

killing zombies

I have discovered a video game: The House of The Dead. Woohoo!!! I felt a need to destroy SOMETHING, but I didn't want a shooting-at-humans game. Dave & Buster's set me up right! Not just ONE zombie-killing game, not just TWO, but THREE machines, each with a different weapon to use. Oh, yeah! I didn't care about the points I amassed or the levels of play attained - oh, no, not me. I delighted in watching the zombies become headless masses, holes blown in chests, blood splatter all around. Destruction!!!
No, I do not own a gun. Games like this remind me of WHY I don't own a gun. My seven years in the Navy first convinced me that I should not own a gun, and so I do not.
But I sure did enjoy destroying zombies on the three variations of The House of The Dead available to me. In fact, I enjoyed it SO much that a song composed itself as I drove north along I-95, a song which I sang several times on my way to Jekyll Island, singing with great glee and joyfulness. Here it is:

If killing zombies is wrong,
I don’t want to be right.
In the House of the Dead I can slay at will
And I do so with all my might.
With pump-action shotgun
Or hair-trigger Magnum,
It matters not to me.
As long as I can blow their heads clean off
That’s the way it should be.

If killing zombies is wrong,
I don’t want to be right.
If killing zombies is wrong,
I don’t want to be right.
I don’t want to be right
If it means my slaying is over,
I don’t want to be right
If it means the zombies take over.
I don’t want to be right
If killing zombies is w r o n g,
I don’t want to be right.

(To the tune of “(If Loving You Is Wrong) I Don't Want To Be Right”)

a singing bird

"Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps a singing bird will come." So says the Chinese proverb on the yellowing newsprint, held to my refrigerator by a magnet my mother gave me. And so I have and so I do. And... a singing bird has indeed come. The singing bird first appeared to me on the 25th of February, but off in the distance, too far for me to easily hear or see. For the next few days, the image of the bird was all I could espy, still off in the distance, and though its beak was in motion, I could not yet hear its song.

On Saturday, I hesitantly trilled my song out there, reaching across time and space... and the bird answered, its song sweet and steady. Nice! But the bird was still so distant and I waited to see if it would fly just a little closer... just a little closer... if I were to gently approach. And the bird came, its song a nectar in my ears, renewing my spirit with its bright notes.

Now, the bird sings to me its song of hope every night. The notes trail after me as I go to bed and echo still in the hall, in the house, in my head when I arise the next morning. The bright and cheery tune keeps a smile close to my lips and in my eyes. Perhaps, someday, the bird will come to stay in my green tree, nestled deep in my heart. Perhaps...