happy veteran's day!

In memory of Daddy, Harvey Smith. He served in the US Air Force.

In memory of my stepdad, Frank Barry. He served in the US Army.

In memory of my uncle, Bob Walker. He served in the US Navy.

Happy Veteran's Day, on the actual day established to honor those who served the USA with military service.
I was blessed to tune in to the parade here in Savannah as it was beginning, there at the corner of Broughton Street and Bull Street.

The moment of silence,
for those who served
who are
no longer alive.

The moment of silence,
with the
US Army's 3rd Infantry Division holding steady.

Taps,
for those living only in memory.

Broughton Street, decked out in our nation's finest colors.

The parade begins!

The first steps of a new day!

for the sake of a little strange

Tonight, I was fortunate to be one of the forty in attendance.
This time, that number referred to the maximum capacity allowed in the Black Box in Jenkins Hall.
The small space is reserved for the Masquers' more experimental ventures into the thespian world. Some are comedic, some are dramatic, and all are quite intense.
"Theatre-in-your-face" experiences, if you will, much like all of the productions of the Savannah Stage Company.
Tonight, the Masquers offered up "Desdemona, A Play About A Handkerchief", a fairly recent Shakespeare-inspired one-act.
For a starting point, recall the tragedy Othello.
Now, consider that as the backdrop and enlarge the roles of three women: Desdemona, the general's beloved wife; Emelia, her maidservant; and Bianca, the harlot the wife has befriended.
The first, in the titular role, is portrayed as a very loose woman, with an itch that must be scratched, no matter the cost.
A woman who first was attracted to the Moor because of his skin color.
That was strange to her, and strange was her drug.
After her marriage to the Moor, she continued her search for strange, befriending Bianca, a woman of like ilk, at the local bordello.
She even took that woman's place one Tuesday night, "working" her shift in a darkened room... unknowingly being bedded by her maidservant's husband, a bitter man, jealous of a younger rival's promotion in the army of Desdemona's husband.
The maidservant is convinced by her husband to steal Desdemona's handkerchief, a gift of love Othello had bestowed upon his wife.
The one-act play opens with Emilia snatching the strawberry-embroidered "snot rag" off a table and stuffing it into her bosom.
And then the trouble truly begins, as the three women discover the web that has trapped them all.

The troupe utilized an interesting technique to control the tension, perhaps for the actors as well as the audience. The play was offered as a series of small vignettes played to a camera, with a huge screen behind the staging area to show the action from the lens' objective frame of reference. In between the vignettes, the actresses would relax out of the characters for a few moments, talking casually to each other.
In one sense, the technique allowed an easing of the emotional build-up during the scenes.
But the impact of the horrific ending, when Desdemona and Emilia realize Iago's betrayal of them both, cannot be softened.

Intense.

Tomorrow, I will attend "Henry V", a history lesson from Shakespeare, as interpreted by Savannah Shakes.
Even with its themes of warfare and swordfights, I suspect it will be lighter fare than that my senses dined upon tonight.

words of hope from the wisest woman i know

When I rose yesterday morning and discovered the results of the presidential election, I was in shock and was awash in sadness for this country I so love.
The old white men had turned out in droves to elect one of their own.
As a country, we have taken a giant step backward, just as we did when Ronald Reagan was elected.
Even the rest of this world we live in will suffer.

My dear friend, the indomitable JinHi, has shared her sanity on facebook.
She has restored my hope for a better day.
Here's hoping her words will salve your ache, too.

JinHi Soucy Rand
November 9 at 1:22pm · Savannah ·

Last night at dinner as friends were periodically checking their phones for early election results, I felt a calm. It had occurred to me that I am a person who has grown accustomed to waiting for Biopsy results, and then dealing with whatever those results may be. Either way the election was going to go, we were about to discover in some historic way who we are as a whole, and where the hurt is that most needs to be addressed.

We are struggling. And in times of struggle as well as times of grave personal illness, turn to your friends, families and neighbors and start repairing there and use that strength to carry on and continue to recover. Sometimes things can get pretty bleak before the healing begins. You have to address your overall health, our overall health, and not just the symptoms. Once there are undeniable symptoms, the illness has spread. The election results, and the fear and disappointments that have been confused for hate, are the symptoms not the whole of each individual that voted.

Just as I know that my cancer cells are still my cells, still my body. I have learned to claim them with a little bit of compassion, understanding that anything I do to them, I do to all of me. I ask that you consider our country and fellow citizens this way. I can't go after my cells with more rage and poison than my body and soul can handle.

Be kind to us. Be kind to each other. There is so much love, so much progress, and we can overcome anything. Maybe not in our lifetimes, but that's not our job. Our job is to use our time to keep progress moving forward. It can't happen without taking a really hard look at ourselves and acknowledging that we took our health for granted.

There are so many ways to get involved and so many amazing people who know how to organize and utilize all of your strengths. Reach out and lend a hand or hold mine. We've got this.

<3

We've got this, together.

farewell, to the lady

On Saturday afternoon, the Celebration of Life of Lady Chablis was held at the Lucas Theatre.
It had originally been scheduled for that second weekend in October...
which would have been one month after her death...
but Hurricane Matthew put those plans on hold...
at least temporarily...
certainly not permanently.

The Lucas was packed, of course, but my job as event usher assured me a space.
Brenda Dale Knox, born Benjamin Edward Knox on March 11, 1957, had been bringing tourists to Savannah for the last twenty years. Ever since her star turn in THE Movie, aka "Midnight In The Garden Of Good And Evil", in 1997, folks have come from all over the world to see her perform at Club One.
She really didn't have to act in the movie.
She simply played herself, albeit the make-up artist certainly helped her attain the needed look.
After all, consider the math. When the movie was filmed, she was already forty years old. Yet, she was playing her 24-year-old self, using the name Chablis Deveau.
She owes much of her fame to Clint Eastwood for allowing her to do so.

Now that pneumonia has clutched her to its clammy chest, I have to wonder what effect her loss will have not only on the LGBT night club, but also on tourism in this city.
There are many folks who still come here because of THE Book and THE Movie, hoping to meet some of the characters they've read about or seen on the screen.
However, it's been thirty-six years since the events which were the basis of THE Book.
Most of the people in the murder tale have died in the last ten years.
Now, Lady Chablis has died, too, at only 59 years old.

Honestly, I had thought she was a good bit older than me, not just by one year.
Scary thought...
I've had pneumonia twice in my life.
Maybe it's time for another pneumonia vaccine...

new people, old ghosts

I was sitting on the grassy hillside, under a blue sky, watching the waves roll up to the rocky spit of land that we called a beach.
It was one of my favorite places to just "be".
Then a cyclist pedaled into view on the road below...
and it was Toad, with his hand up in greeting as he rode past me...
then he, and his bike, glided out of sight on the curving road...
and I sat there and cried.
He had died on the biking portion of the triathlon just a week or so earlier.

That was 35 years ago.
I was 23 years old and in my first year at Okinawa.
Last night, the crystallized memory popped back into full view with all the clarity of that clear blue sky on that spring day.
I could even see Michael's face, smiling as he waved.

Kevin and I were at the Savannah Striders' post-race celebration downtown. He had asked if I would fetch him from his apartment, as he didn't trust his mermaid legs and fuzzy head to get him back downtown.
I did, of course.
Things were going very nicely at the restaurant. The family of four across from us welcomed us enthusiastically into their conversation. Maria and Robert had run the half-marathon, with their two daughters cheering them on - very nice!
Then Kevin asked if I had been concerned that he wouldn't finish the race and I had replied that I had been. I told him I had been quite concerned around mile 22, because I knew Jane was to meet him there and I had not heard from her that he was safely to that point. After almost an hour had passed since he had hit mile 20, I had contacted Jane and asked if she had seen him. Yes, she had, and she even sent me a photo!
But I had been very worried, and had continued to worry until his text at mile 25.2.
Kevin asked why I hadn't contacted him if I was worried.
I told him I hadn't wanted to concern him, especially if all was well.
I hadn't wanted to worry him and take his concentration off his quest.
We both knew that people have died on this race, here in this town.
Then, justthatfast, the memory of Toad on that blue-sky day popped into my head and I was suddenly drowning in grief.

I practically ran as I excused myself from the table.
I know me.
The only way to navigate the grief wave is to go through it, allowing myself to be totally submerged, until it has passed by and ebbed away.
That's what my counselor, Duke Miles, had advised during my divorce in late 2007.
He was absolutely right, too.
Getting the tears out of the way immediately, as it happens, allows me to get back to my day in just a few moments. That's much better than trying to postpone dealing with it and ending up with a meltdown.

After only a few minutes, I was able to compose myself and returned to the table.
I told Kevin about my friend and what had happened to him.
I had known I was feeling fretful these past few weeks as Kevin had been ramping up his training for the marathon. My level of anxiety had been ramping up as his enthusiasm rose.
But I had not realized that my concern went back to an incident thirty-five years in my past, when I was young.

Strange how the mind ties old forgotten memories to new events and new people.

As I drove him back to his apartment, I told him about my vision of Michael that long-ago day.
Then I told him about Grandpa's death in Waycross while I was in Okinawa and my vision of him in a dream.
And I told him about the pilgrim ghosts seen when I was a little girl. (That probably is part of my reason for going crazy in the dark, now that I think about it.)
And I told him about Mama helping me enlist, and my debates with Grandpa, and my tubal ligation, and Mama's conversation with me after my first niece was born...
Sigh.
I do hope I haven't run him off.

At least I'm not on parole or probation...
I would definitely be kicked out of his life then...
that would be heartbreaking for me.

Please say a little prayer...

kevin completes his quest!

This is Kevin, clad in his finisher's jacket and sporting his finisher's medal.
(You can't really see that because of budget cuts.
Trust me,
it's an inside joke.)

This is the race map for the 6th Rock'n'Roll Savannah Marathon.
Kevin's arrival times at the checkpoints are recorded thereon, based on his texts to me and Jane at the start, then every five miles.

Here he is, approaching Jenkins High School, near mile 15!
Kevin was in my 'hood!!!
He even veered off course to grant me a brief big, sweaty, hug!
What a treat!
(smile)

There he goes!
He was heading back toward the high school, then onward to Daffin Park before a return to downtown.
This was just past mile 19.
Go, dancing bear, go!

And so he did,finishing the 26.2 mile race in almost exactly 6 hours.
Impressive!
To finish a marathon has been his quest for seven years.
Today: success!!!

For my part, I tried to make sure he knew he was loved!
Besides my sweatshirt, I also decorated two posters to cheer him on and assure him that he was totally aWeSOmE!

This was the one I held as he neared me at the high school.
(Maybe it's the reason for the hug?)
The other was propped on a bush as he came back toward me for mile 19.


I also sent goofy little poems as he checked in along the way.
He had sent an early morning text to thank me and Jane (honorary Mom) for being there as his support group. After I responded, I climbed back into my warm bed. Trust me, I had meant to go back to sleep! Instead, two poems had popped into my head, self-made! I had to jump out of bed to write them down before they vanished back into thin air!
So, here they are, two spontaneous, two deliberately constructed to round out the set.

After mile 5:
Maintain your pace
with a smiling face
and that's how you
will complete the race!

After mile 10:
The parks downtown
are oh so pretty!
Time now to explore
the rest of the city!

As encouragement around mile 18 (before he came into sight at mile 19):
Move your feet
to the music's beat
with a smile on your face
as you go down the street!

After mile 25.2:
Returning to downtown,
maybe time for a stroll.
Just keep moving, Kevin,
you're close to the goal!

I'll leave it up to you to guess which ones got me out of bed!
(smile!)

Now, I'm off to the Lucas Theatre to usher for a memorial service.
Later!

tuesday timing

What a day this has been!
I woke up at 8 AM, took my little pill for my cyst-slowed thyroid, and climbed back in bed.
There I stayed until 10:31 AM.
I had apparently turned off the alarm!
Oh, no!
Class was at 11 AM!!!!
I got dressed, grabbed a to-go snack box, and set off for the college.
Amazingly, I made it safely to campus, without any coffee to wake my mind.
Then, even more amazingly, I slid the car right into an open parking space.
When I reached the classroom, the time was 10:51 AM.
i thank You, God!
That gave me a few minutes to get a little sustenance in.
Good thing, too. That bit of energy kept me going for the talk on the kinetics of reactions, including exothermic and endothermic factors...
which was especially good as today was the day the dean chose to audit my class.
Yikes!
Still, he had to be impressed that I seemed to be running on all cylinders, without notes, even reminding the students of the topics we had already studied and their place in our current studies.
I certainly hope so.
The timing of his visit gives me pause, though.
Why?
Well, late last week, he had sent the following email to all in General Studies.

"All,
At the link below, Malcom Gladwell discusses the U-shaped curve in relation to classroom size. He discusses class size at around 16:40.
U Shaped Curve and Classroom Size
What do you think about his idea about the impact of classroom size on poor students?"

I had viewed the link on Saturday and then responded.

"Very interesting discussion...and I concur with his results.
I am currently teaching the same course, with the same textbook and same homework assignments, to two different classes. One class began with thirty students, has much class participation during lecture, and has 27 students after midterm. The other class began with ten students, has very little participation during lecture, and will soon be down to five students.
Honestly, it has been a bit disheartening to witness this great difference.
But I shall persevere at providing a good education to those who remain, in both classes."

As I said, I find his timing on auditing my class to be curious.
Perhaps he wanted to see my energy level and style for himself?
I'm just grateful to have been there on time, teaching material I know well, in front of four students intent on learning.
Again, i thank You, God.

Now, it's time to head to my "Tuesday with Kevin" dinner and a movie. This time, he's selected "Inferno" for our weekly viewing.
He's also already invited me earlier today to go with him on Thursday to pick up his race packet for the Rock 'n' Roll Marathon in Savannah! Of course I said I would go! (I even plan to cheer him on as he runs - twice - past my neighborhood on this Saturday.)
Thursday will make the third time this week that we've seen each other and had dinner together.
How so?
Well, on Sunday evening, I went over to help him study for his physiology test...and he bought me dinner! Ceviche at Jalapenos! Quite nice!
I suspect we will dine together on Thursday, too.
We'll see!
What delicious timing!
(smile!)
Maybe I am his favorite "fun aunt"...
I'll accept that honor!
(smile!)