Showing posts with label Todd Snider. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Todd Snider. Show all posts

Friday, February 19, 2021

If Tomorrow Never Comes (Todd Snider)

It has been an insanely long time since I last posted (almost a month?!? - yikes!).  Reasons, but really no good reasons.  I have three blog posts in draft form that I've been working on, and then something (whether meaningful or meaningless) comes along and I allow myself to get sidetracked.  Hey, I can do it tomorrow... or the next day... or the day after that.  I'm still walking, still doing yoga, still reading like a motherf*cker, in the condo pool (heated) a few times a week to stretch, still eating nutritiously, my vision has come back 100% after last month's health scare, my husband is loving, we've had both vaccines (blog post on that coming soon), my kids are well, my grandson is perfect, I do the NYT Mini-Crossword and Spelling Bee every morning to start my day, I switched from Brown Sadness Water to caffeinated coffee, and I am watching the news again because I *trust* this administration to tell the truth.  Considering the circumstances, life is pretty d*mn good... 💗

On the flip side, I am well aware of the extreme weather conditions in Texas, the fact that we will soon be hitting 500,000 (half a million) COVID deaths, children across the nation are still doing online learning, today’s Republican Party is less concerned with national public opinion than it used to be, etc.  However, since January 21, it feels like a kinder, gentler, more equitable nation with swift as well as measured responses to ongoing problems or, as MSNBC correspondent Brian Williams accurately described this evening:  "back to a standard, traditionally-operating White House with rigor and expertise and order and schedules and process."

Our country feels safe(r) again.


I haven't offered up a Feel Good Friday post in a while.  Attempting to resurrect this tradition:  five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

Promotions for Female Generals Were Delayed Over Fears of Trump’s ReactionUnder a Biden administration, the nominations are expected to go from the Pentagon to the White House within weeks and then to the Senate for approval.

Alex Trebek’s Wardrobe Is Donated to Formerly Incarcerated Men:  The gift, which will also benefit formerly homeless men, was in keeping with an appeal that the host of “Jeopardy!” had made when he asked viewers to “build a gentler, kinder society.”

Why 'A Case Of You' Is The Best Love Song Of All Time:  Sometimes a once-beloved work feels like a relic, like a junior high yearbook autographed with the names of people I no longer remember. Other times, I find myself understanding and appreciating it in new ways.

Feed families, spread kindness, strengthen communities When you become a part of Lasagna Love, you’re joining a movement full of people who want to weave kindness back into the fabric of our everyday lives. (thanks to MicheleW for the heads-up!)

Gwyneth Paltrow Is Selling Vibrators The Goop founder also talks about sexual wellness and how she contracted Covid-19 a year ago, probably in Paris.


NR:  Migrations by Charlotte McConaghy (exquisite... 💞)


SONGIf Tomorrow Never Comes by Todd Snider ("if worms had daggers,
birds wouldn't f*ck with them"... 😄 )

BOOK:  The Authenticity Project by Clare Pooley

POEM:  Wild Thing by Judith Viorst

I went for a walk in the sun without wearing my sunscreen.
I went out of town without making a reservation.
I placed my mouth directly upon a public drinking fountain, and took a sip.
I didn't bother flossing my teeth before bedtime.
I pumped my own gasoline at a self-service station.
I ate the deviled egg instead of the cauliflower with low-fat yogurt dip.
I bought, without reading Consumer Reports, a new dryer.
I left my checking account unreconciled.
I know that the consequences could be dire,
But sometimes a woman simply has to run wild.

QUOTE:  “There’s a particular feeling in your body when something goes right after a long time of things going wrong.  It feels warm and sweet and loose… For a moment all my bees have turned to honey.” ~ Lily King, Writers & Lovers

Friday, April 24, 2020

On Top of the World (Imagine Dragons)

[This is brilliantly creative.  Clicking to enlarge will heighten your enjoyment!  (thanks to NickA for passing it on, and to Reddit, where he got it from...  :-) ]


It's Feel Good Friday (do it twice and it's a tradition), five links to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy!

~ The Kirsten Maxwell Livestreaming Event, Friday, April 24 (tonight!) at 7:30 p.m.:  Kirsten Maxwell is a New York native, raised between Sunnyside, Queens and Huntington, Long Island. She attributes her love of music to her parents who met performing at the famed Amato Opera. Maxwell made her stage debut at age 5, and remained there, changing costumes and styles, exploring opera, musical theater, folk, and everything in between. Her eclectic taste and talent for switching between genres remain, but she can most often be found playing guitar and singing one of her original songs.


~ This Is Why There Is A Record-Breaking Spike In Pet Adoptions in Palm Beach County:  For the first time in its history, which stretches five decades, one of three kennels at Palm Beach County Animal Care and Control’s shelter in West Palm Beach is completely empty.


An Evening With Richard Blanco: Poems for IsolationMonday, April 27 at 6:00 p.m., Livestreamed via Crowdcast:  Miami Book Fair, the Miami Downtown Development Authority (DDA), and Books & Books invite you to a reading by Miami’s own presidential inaugural poet, Richard Blanco. Join us from your balcony, bedroom or home cocktail bar for an evening of reflection, as we celebrate poetry and its power to carry us through difficult moments. 


~ Buy Girl Scout Cookies OnlineTo protect girls and communities in the wake of COVID-19, Girl Scouts have suspended door-to-door sales and cookie booths.  But you can still buy your favorite cookies online today and have them shipped to your door—or donate cookies and we'll distribute them safely to provide comfort to first responders, volunteers, and local causes in need.  (thanks to Nance for this tip!  Yes, I ordered four boxes of Thin Mints, vegan, you know!, which are due to arrive *tomorrow* and will go straight into the freezer...  :-)


Todd Snider on John Prine: ‘I Couldn’t Believe I Knew Him’:  The Nashville songwriter on bonding with his mentor, taking him out for pizza, and that time they got lost in Europe


~ Bonus link!  Shelter in Poems: A Virtual ReadingThursday, April 30, 7:30 p.m. EDT:  The evening will include poems presented by:  Elizabeth Alexander, Sam Beam, Richard Blanco, Julia Bullock, Marilyn Chin, Rita Dove, Patrick Gaspard, Amanda Gorman, Joy Harjo, Juan Felipe Herrera, Edward Hirsch, Stephin Merritt, Maulik Pancholy, Alison Pill, Dan Rather, Alberto Ríos, Mustafa Shakir, Naomi Shihab Nye, Lorna Simpson, Amber Tamblyn. and other special guests.  The event will raise funds to support our free publications and programs, including our K-12 education program. As National Poetry Month comes to a close, many of us will have weathered a month of solitude in an act of solidarity to protect each other. During these weeks, poetry has brought us all closer together, even as we remain physically apart.



SONG:  On Top of the World by Imagine Dragons

BOOK:  A Year of Writing Dangerously: 365 Days of Inspiration and Encouragement by Barbara Abercrombie

POEM:  Thoughts After the Poem Wild Geese by Adrie Kusserow (who was inspired by Mary Oliver's poem to write a coronavirus adaptation)

You do not have to become totally zen,
You do not have to use this isolation to make your marriage better,
your body slimmer, your children more creative.

You do not have to "maximize its benefits"
By using this time to work even more,
write the bestselling Corona Diaries,
Or preach the gospel of ZOOM.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body unlearn
everything capitalism has taught you,
(That you are nothing if not productive,
That consumption equals happiness,
That the most important unit is the single self.
That you are at your best when you resemble an efficient machine).

Tell me about your fictions, the ones you’ve been sold,
the ones you sheepishly sell others,
and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world as we know it is crumbling.
Meanwhile the virus is moving over the hills,
suburbs, cities, farms and trailer parks.

Meanwhile The News barks at you, harsh and addicting,
Until the push of the remote leaves a dead quiet behind,
a loneliness that hums as the heart anchors.

Meanwhile a new paradigm is composing itself in our minds,
Could birth at any moment if we clear some space
From the same tired hegemonies.

Remember, you are allowed to be still as the white birch,
Stunned by what you see,
Uselessly shedding your coils of paper skins
Because it gives you something to do.

Meanwhile, on top of everything else you are facing,
Do not let capitalism co-opt this moment,
laying its whistles and train tracks across your weary heart.

Even if your life looks nothing like the Sabbath,
Your stress boa-constricting your chest.
Know that your antsy kids, your terror, your shifting moods,
Your need for a drink have every right to be here,
And are no less sacred than a yoga class.

Whoever you are, no matter how broken,
the world still has a place for you, calls to you over and over
announcing your place as legit, as forgiven,
even if you fail and fail and fail again.
remind yourself over and over,
all the swells and storms that run through your long tired body
all have their place here, now in this world.

It is your birthright to be held
deeply, warmly in the family of things,
not one cell left in the cold.

QUOTE:  "
Feeling good about your life, but not expressing a heartfelt 'thank you,' is like wrapping a gift for someone and never giving it to them." ~ Chip Conley

Friday, April 10, 2020

Ascending into Madness (Todd Snider)

I am finding myself becoming extremely testy (major understatement) and over-sensitive (although the latter has always been an innate characteristic of mine).  If I am not careful, I imagine that everyone in my circle is annoying to me, and can do no right.  Then I take a step back and follow Sarah's advice to Colin:  "10 to a 2, buddy.  10 to a 2.").  I try to sit with something for at least 24 hours before I react (reducing my chances of overreacting).  I am attempting to fine-tune my already hair-trigger filter, before I say and/or do something I can't take back.  I also still believe in boundaries and, just because these are horrifying times doesn't mean we should lower our standards on civility, courtesy, and kindness.  In fact, we all need to be kicking up those qualities so as not to offend, hurt, or overstep.  

Cleaned out the guest room closet yesterday, which has been #1 on my To Do List for entirely too long.  Found the hand weights and the bunny ears, two of my main objectives.  Feeling a great sense of satisfaction and, going back to my previous post of Things You Can Control:  aaaahhhh... :-)

















SONG:  Ascending into Madness by Todd Snider (I was actually at this performance!)

BOOK:  Will My Cat Eat My Eyeballs?: Big Questions from Tiny Mortals About Death by Caitlin Doughty, Dianné Ruz (Illustrator)

POEM:  Dear P. by Victoria Chang

Someone will        love you     many will      love

you         many will brother you   some of these

loves will        bother you   some   will      leave you

one might        haunt   you      hunt you in your

sleep        make you       weep the tearless kind of

weep the         kind of weep   that drowns your

organs     slowly    there are little oars  in your body      

little boats   grab onto them and row and        row

someone will tell you      no       but you won’t   know

he is    right until you have   already        wrung your  

own heart dry    your hands dripping knives    until

you have    already   reached your hands into       his       

body and put them through his        heart     love is


the only thing that       is not    an       argument

QUOTE:  "My belief is in the chaos of the world and that you have to find your peace within the chaos and that you still have to find some sort of mission." ~ Ta-Nehisi Coates

Monday, January 27, 2020

Bring My Flowers Now (Tanya Tucker)

This post has the potential to go long, as I describe the adventure ("isn't that what you would call it?", sings Dar) that was the 30A Songwriters Festival last weekend.  I give you permission now to pull the plug at any time...  :-)

My husband and I flew up to Pensacola Thursday evening (1/16) to meet up with my college roommate Linda and her husband Craig.  I had booked our flights on Silver Airways, because it was the only airline that flew non-stop from Ft. Lauderdale (we hate Miami Airport).  I knew something was awry when I checked in the night before and saw there were only 48 seats on the plane.  Yikes!  We got to the airport, went to the gate and, when they called our flight, I looked out the window and joked to Chico that the little pink prop plane on the tarmac was ours.  Um... yup.  Taxied so far and long on the runway, my next joke was that we were just going to drive I-75/I-10 all the way to Pensacola.  Fortunately, we did take off at some point, and to be fair to them, it was a nice, smooth flight, as was the return trip ("and I'd do it again", Dar, different song).

Linda and Craig picked us up at the airport, we spent Thursday night, swung by Wendy (Linda's co-teacher before they retired, and her husband) and her husband Don's house Friday morning, ate lunch in Destin, and finally got to our cabin in Santa Rosa Beach about 3:30 p.m., whereupon we quickly got settled so we could hear some music.  The festival is named 30A after the highway most of the venues are on, with a few offshoots.  It's pricey, with an extensive line-up, and sets you up for failure in that you're never going to see everyone you want to, and basically have to decide on a venue to sit through for the evening, as opposed to bopping around from place to place. Wah!

We collaboratively agreed on a Friday night plan, and headed out to see two rounds: Eliot Bronson and Danielle Howle, both of whom I am familiar with (she opened for Ani DiFranco at the Carefree Theatre in West Palm Beach a bazillion years ago!).  Amazing set, and a great way to start our festival experience.  Next round was Sierra Hull and Steve Poltz, the first a discovery of Craig's at Merlefest and the second a Bucket List item for me (Jewel's boyfriend and co-writer a long-time ago).  She was a young, beautiful, mandolin whiz and he an older, energetic nutjob (in the best possible way), such that, even though I'm on a buying moratorium, I had to spring for a T-shirt.  Another great set, to end the evening...  :-)

Back to the cabin for late-night snacking and drinking, up again Saturday morning for coffee, then on to the outdoor amphitheatre, where the gates opened at 11 a.m., music beginning at noon.  The festival modus operandi for both Saturday and Sunday is to showcase three big-name acts at this large venue exclusively, with no other music running concurrently.  Saturday was Tanya Tucker, Indigo Girls, and John Prine.  Tanya is back on the scene after a 17-year hiatus, largely due to the support/encouragement of Brandi Carlile (and just had a showcase spot at the last night's Grammys).

The next two sets were Indigo Girls (Emily had a bad cold, which really affected her voice, but we did get to sing along to Closer to Fine and Galileo); and John Prine, who looked and sounded amazing, showcasing several tunes on his new CD, Tree of Forgiveness, which I need to listen to immediately.  He also called Tanya Tucker back to sing harmony with him on Angel from Montgomery and Paradise.

We all went on to the next venue, got there just as they were taking a break, and breezed right in, waiting only 10 minutes for a round with Sierra Hull (previously-described mandolin whiz), Allison Moorer (ex-wife of Steve Earle, sister of Shelby Lynne), and Mindy Smith.  All were great, but I was especially captivated by Moorer who, after decades of keeping it quiet, has recently written a book and a companion CD, about her father murdering her mother, and then turning the gun on himself, which she and her sister witnessed when they were children.  Her song Nightlight broke my heart.

Then... TODD!!!  When I discovered early in the festival that I was never going to be able to see everyone I wanted, I basically said that as long as I could hear Todd Snider, I was happy.  Mission Accomplished, in the best possible way!  His performances can go either way:  on-task, focused songwriting and storytelling, or off-the-rails, drugged-out, mumbling, stumbling, possibly cutting his set short.  Fortunately, he was more of the former, as Linda had seen him a few years back (exhibiting latter behavior), and was unimpressed. We got to sing along to Beer Run, and he did some introspective songs as well.  He also told a story about wearing shoes lately on stage, as he had performed barefoot all his life, which his doctor said was probably the reason for many of Todd's health problems.  "Well, that and drugs", he said, "but at least I met him halfway".  Hilarious!
Back to our cabin for more late-night snacking, drinking, and conversation.  I am fond of saying that I can still do everything I used to; it just takes me longer to recover.  That was the theme of this weekend...  :-)

Sunday morning, back to the outdoor amphitheatre to end up in the same place we were the day before, a few rows behind the fence of the VIP area. Good sightlines, plus they had a Jumbotron on either side of the main stage with close-ups.  I said before that this festival is pricey, and VIP tickets were even more so.  It's a wealthy demographic, and I joked all weekend about the plethora of animal prints in the women's clothing:  jackets, shirts, headbands, and boots.  Begone the rain of the day before; it was now sunny and cold.  I wore my pussy hat...  :-)

As I was headed to the food tent to buy a cup of coffee, I ran into someone I had met the day before, who told me that David Olney had died onstage the night before, and a feeling of such sadness overtook me.  From Amy Rigby...

The day's line-up was nostalgia:  Herman's Hermits with Peter Noone, Don McLean, and Brian Wilson.  Peter Noone was charming and spritely, saying that they didn't write any new songs for this gig; instead they would perform all the songs we knew and loved... and they did!  From Henry the VIII to Mrs. Brown to There's a Kind of Hush, they led us on a journey of our past, and muscle memory kicked in and the audience sang along to everything.  Such fun!  Don McLean was a big yawn/snore, ending up with American Pie (he didn't even do Vincent), which was cool but not enough.  Brian Wilson lent his name to the next set, and sang on about every fourth song, but all the "heavy lifting" was done by the other 10 guys on stage, who were amazing.  Brian just looked sad and cold, even wiping his nose on his sleeve a few times, and the camera crew soon learned to focus elsewhere.  There was a part in the middle of the set of "new" songs, which no one in the audience knew, and people began to leave.  Again, so very sad.

Back to the room to warm up and eat, then into town again to hear an in-the-round with four songwriters in the venue where Olney had died the night before, which set the mood for a very somber evening.  Then on to hear Mary Gauthier (who I adore), accompanied by Jaimee Harris, her accompanist/girlfriend, and Will Kimbrough (who used to play lead guitar for The Nervous Wrecks, Todd Snider's band, and is quite the talent in his own right). The night continued on a serious note, as Will shared that Olney was his across-the-street neighbor, and said that he would be going home to a very different neighborhood.  He then quoted the iconic singer songwriter Townes Van Zandt:  "Anytime anyone asks me who my favorite music writers are, I say Mozart, Lightnin' Hopkins, Bob Dylan, and Dave Olney. Dave Olney is one of the best songwriters I've ever heard – and that's true. I mean that from my heart", and then proceeded to play To Live Is to Fly, which I adore.  Not a dry eye in the house.

Back to the cabin for our ritual of eating, drinking, and yakking... then up the next morning to pack and check out.  The cabin was within walking distance of the gulf, so we of course had to do that, and we strolled along the beach for over an hour, witnessing the beauty of Mother Nature's blue skies, fluffy clouds, and sun sparkling on the water.  Tried to see a bit more music on our way out of town, but all three venues we stopped at were packed, so we bid adieu to 30A, and headed back to Pensacola.
The F*cking End!





POEM:  The Uses of Sorrow by Mary Oliver

Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.

QUOTE:  "When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home." ~ Tecumseh


P.S.  I think the hardest thing about coming back to blogging is going to be... not repeating songs, books, poems, and quotes I've already used.  Ack!


Sunday, June 28, 2009

Good Fortune (Todd Snider)


I commented recently on a friend's blog, regarding Todd Snider's new CD, The Excitement Plan:

I have been cranky lately because I actually got in on the limited edition box set, which was shipped to my house (in Florida) on the CD release day - however, I am still at my mom’s and as yet unable to listen…

I may actually order the CD from amazon.com and have it sent here - I can find a good home for the duplicate when I get back home…

I personally think every single one of his albums is brilliant, and I do hope you manage to work your way through the backcatalog eventually - if you enjoy “political without being preachy”, start with East Nashville Skyline (The Ballad of the Kingsmen and Sunshine, in particular)…

So... I *did* order the CD... and it arrived yesterday - I had a chance to begin listening on my way back to mom's from Mari's this morning, and I am flippin' loving it already! I highly recommend - you can read more about it... and listen to a recent NPR interview here...

Speaking of Fortune... neighbors have been bringing food, friends have been sending flowers and cards and writing in mom's guestbook... and my husband might actually be flying up for a visit - goodness abounds!



POEM: Give Us Courage by Robert Louis Stevenson

Give us courage, gaiety and the quiet mind.
Spare us to our friends, soften to us our enemies.
Bless us, if it may be, in all our innocent endeavors.
If it may not, give us the strength to encounter
that which is to come, that we be brave in peril,
constant in tribulation, temperate in wrath,
and in all changes of fortune and down to the gates
of death, loyal and loving to one another.

QUOTE: "I can't even enjoy a blade of grass unless I know there's a subway handy, or a record store or some other sign that people do not totally regret life. It's more important to confirm the least sincere. The clouds get enough attention as it is." ~ Frank O'Hara

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Play a Train Song (Todd Snider)


Some of you are aware that I've been contributing to Star Maker Machine, a collaborative weekly-themed music blog, since this past October - its fun, it's challenging... and it's an honor to be in such esteemed company...

A few weeks ago the subject was Trains, of which I'd made a mix CD a few years ago (thus possessing me to contribute 6 submissions containing 9 songs, a record for me) - when the following poem appeared in yesterday's Writer's Almanac... today's OV post was a no-brainer (who am I to argue with The Universe?... :-)

P.S. SMM
here and here...



I am seduced by trains.
When one moans in the night like some dragon gone lame,
I rise and put on my grandfather's suit.
I pack a small bag, step out onto the porch,
and wait in the darkness.
I rest my broad-brimmed hat on my knee.
To a passerby I'm a curious sight—
a solitary man sitting in the night.
There's something unsettling about a traveler
who doesn't know where he's headed.
You can't predict his next move.
In a week you may receive a postcard from Haiti. Madagascar.
You might turn on your answering machine and hear his voice
amid the tumult of a Bangkok avenue.
All afternoon you feel the weight of the things you've never done.
Don't think about it too much.
Everything starts to sound like a train.

QUOTE: "The only way of catching a train I ever discovered is to miss the train before." ~ G.K. Chesterton

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Can't Complain (Todd Snider)

So... two blogger friends posted yesterday about worrying... and I commented to each... among other things suggesting using The Serenity Prayer as a benchmark (serenely accepting, courageously changing, wisely differentiating) - today, I will struggle to take my own advice... :-)

See yesterday's post regarding my home leak - see potential panic and dollar signs in my eyes. The leak detector guy came this morning, surveyed the whole house (headphones and sonar equipment and beeping, oh my!) for the routing of the pipes... and determined the leak is in our master bathroom under the floor - it appears the toilet will have to come up, as well as the gorgeous cobalt blue tile that was one of the features attracting me to the house 16 years ago...

The plumbing company is coming *back* tomorrow to give me an estimate on exactly how much this is all going to cost - there is bad and good news: it is unlikely my homeowner's insurance will pay for this since there is no visible damage and the pipe is under the house, therefore no threat to structural integrity. The other good news is that, since this is in the *hot* water system, I am keeping the hot water off, but we still have water throughout the house (to flush toilets, make tea, wash hands, etc.) - when I want to shower, I can turn the hot water back on long enough to accomplish... and then back off again (a pain... but nowhere near as inconvenient as it *could* be).

Trying trying trying to keep my wits (ha!) until I *know* what I am facing - received an e-mail from my husband traveling on business to Mexico, stating: I am okay. Thinking of you. All my love. Part of me would love to respond: I am not okay. Wishing you were here to help deal with this mess. Don't ever leave me alone again. (He doesn't have a clue yet as to all this stuff - I'm waiting until I know "the big picture" before I share details.) Then I remember how much he traveled in the past, and I know I'm lucky to have him around as much as I do these days - I pat myself on my back (tight with tension knots) that I am strong, capable and a good decision-maker.

The money will come from somewhere... that particular pipe will not bother us again for a while... and maybe it's time for a tile choice that reflects me and not the previous owners - how's that for sugarcoating?... :-)

Plus... thankyoujesus tonight is water aerobics class (I've been going twice a week for the last two months), I've been eating much healthier (loving the fruits and vegetables from the food co-op), my mom's health seems to have stabilized a bit, two of my three kids are doing well (and I'm handling the other with equal amounts love and boundaries), I know I'm voting for Barack Obama and will be volunteering at their headquarters over the next few weeks, I'm reading an old Ann Patchett and listening to a new Todd Snider.... and last night's jacuzzi soak was under a full moon - still thinking positive thoughts (and urging those around me to continue as well)... but I didn't cause this problem and I have the wherewithall to fix it.

As my friend sharon is fond of quoting her dad: "if a problem can be fixed with money, it's not a problem" - so true, so true...

For my previous posts on Worry, click here...

Real Simple, December 2002/January 2003

Think Constructively
Worrywarts tend to automatically assume the worst will happen in any situation. You can head off the cascade of negative thoughts by challenging them with logic, says psychiatrist Edward Hallowell. Ask yourself questions like How do I know the situation is bad? What are other possible outcomes? Is there a more positive way to see the situation? Say you have a falling-out with your fiancé. Instead of spending the rest of the day in a panic, convinced your relationship is doomed, remind yourself that the two of you have fought many times before, that your fiancé loves you, and that fights are a normal part of all relationships.

Make a Plan
Action is a powerful antidote to anxiety. After that argument with your fiance, make a list of what went wrong and how you could deal with it better the next time, or call a friend to discuss the spat. Likewise, you'll have less fodder for worry if you start addressing the situations that cause you stress. Hallowell suggests you come up with three specific changes you want to make that address specific worries, such as making a will if you're concerned about your estate, seeing your dentist if you fear gum disease, or cleaning out the attic if you're afraid it has become a fire hazard. Next to each item write down how and when you are going to tackle it. Once these are done, give yourself three more tasks.

Get Organized
Many everyday worries grow out of disorganization. Every bit of structure you add can reduce the time spent in useless worry. For example, get in the habit of making lists or keeping a daily schedule, or set a basket by the door to hold your keys so you can avoid that frantic morning search.

Distract Yourself
If you can't shake a worrisome thought, take a brisk walk or play a game with your kids, pull a few weeds or read the paper. Anything that requires some concentration is helpful, says psychologist Susan Nolen-Hoeksema. A 10-minute break is all it takes to shut off the negative cycle of rumination. Another trick: Wear a rubber band around your wrist and when the train of "what ifs" starts gathering steam, snap the band hard and tell yourself to stop. The experts say such thought-stopping techniques really work.

Schedule Your Worries
Set aside a time and place — not the bedroom or anywhere else you like to relax — where you can spend 10 to 30 minutes every day worrying. That's right, just worrying. During that time, let all your worst fears rip. For the rest of the day, if a concern pops up, tell yourself to set it aside until your worry time. "When you worry without resistance, it tends to lose its power," says Wilson. Over time you'll find those troubling thoughts are less intrusive.You can also postpone worrying into the future. If you're nervous about giving a presentation that you've been preparing for days, tell yourself to set those fears on the back burner for 20 minutes to two hours. When that time comes, either let yourself worry about it or postpone it again. This technique will help keep you more relaxed and in the moment.

Write Your Worries Away
Keep a pad by your bed to jot down that vexing problem that jolts you awake at 2 A.M. You'll be able to get back to sleep knowing you won't forget about it. A worry journal can also help, though be sure to use it as a dumping ground and not a place to endlessly recycle the same concerns. You can also use a journal to work out answers to troubling problems.

Worry with a Friend
Nothing brings your troubles down to size more quickly than sharing your concerns with someone else. Along with sympathy, you'll get a clearer perspective and help in brainstorming possible solutions.

Tame Your Tension
As psychologist Beverly Potter points out in The Worrywart's Companion, tension and worrying go hand in hand, but if you can relax your body, your mind will follow. Try deep breathing to unwind and root yourself in the present. (Your abdomen should go out when you breathe in, and in when you breathe out.) Or practice tightening and then releasing your muscles from head to toe to teach yourself the difference between feeling tense and feeling relaxed. Seek calm through prayer, meditation, or yoga.

Treat Yourself Well
You know the drill — a good night's sleep, a warm bath, regular exercise, healthy eating, limited caffeine. Add them all up and your anxiety decreases.Although some of these techniques may feel awkward or artificial, stick with them and you'll find they work. Just ask psychological researcher Evelyn Behar. When she was writing her master's thesis, she found herself up night after night, consumed with worry: How would she finish on time? Would her professors think she had done a good job? She knew she needed to get an adequate amount of sleep, so she gave herself a scheduled time and place to worry. Every night at eight, she gave herself 20 minutes of "worry time" on the living-room sofa. "I finally forced myself," she recalls, "and it saved a lot of time during the day, time I would have spent worrying. Overall, my anxiety level went down."

Let Go
Easier said than done. However, many people who make a habit of worrying often become convinced their vigilance is keeping bad things at bay — like the white-knuckle flyer who is certain her anxiety is keeping the plane aloft. The truth is, we don't have control over many situations in our lives — whether it's the safety of the airplane we're riding in our ability to have children. Hallowell suggests you try turning your worry over to God, or to fate if you don't believe in God. Accept that your worries won't make the world any different; they will only make you more unhappy. How? Try praying; try writing the worry down and putting it in a box; try anything that helps you let the worry go.



POEM: Against Pleasure by Robin Becker

Worry stole the kayaks and soured the milk.
Now, it’s jellyfish for the rest of the summer
and the ozone layer full of holes.
Worry beats me to the phone.
Worry beats me to the kitchen,
and all the food is sorry. Worry calcifies
my ears against music; it stoppers my nose
against barbecue. All films end badly.
Paintings taunt with their smug convictions.
In the dark, Worry wraps her long legs
around me, promises to be mine forever.

Thugs hijacked all the good parking spaces.
There’s never a good time for lunch.
And why, my mother asks, must you track
beach sand into the apartment?
No, don’t bother with books,
not reading much these days.
And who wants to walk the boardwalk anyway,
with scam artists who steal your home and savings?
Watch out for talk that sounds too good to be true.
You
, she says pointing at me,
don’t worry so much.

QUOTE: "We can easily manage if we will only take, each day, the burden appointed to it. But the load will be too heavy for us if we carry yesterday's burden over again today, and then add the burden of the morrow before we are required to bear it." ~ John Newton

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Mission Accomplished (Todd Snider)




May I just tell you how much I love Todd Snider?!? - he's been one of my favorite singer-songwriters ever since I first heard his Talking Seattle Grunge Rock Blues, a hidden track on his Songs for the Daily Planet CD, waaaaay back in 1994.

He comes across as a stoner dude (could be some validity to that... :-) but his ability to memorize and play not only hundreds of his own songs but those of his heroes (Robert Earl Keen, John Prine, Bob Dylan among them) shows he's in full faculty of more brain cells than all his fans combined will ever lose. His tunes range from hysterical (Beer Run) to heart-wrenching (You Think You Know Somebody) - he's a consummate songwriter, clever without being predictable, educational without being preachy and emotional without being smarmy.

His way with a phrase is beyond brilliant ("I've always been afraid of a 12 step crowd, they laugh too much and talk too loud, like they all know where everyone should be"... "Got a lump on my head and a boot print on my chest from what the guys in here call the Tillamook County lie detector test"... "You know that was so underhanded, grabbing him just as you landed, after holding me the whole time you fell") - for a while there, I used one of his lyrics to evaluate the people in my life ("you're either out of control or you're stuck"... :-)

I've seen him live a handful of times (he almost always plays barefoot), once at the 2001 Folk Alliance in Vancouver (I went to all his showcases) and on a few more occasions at The Bamboo Room here in South Florida, an intimate listening space which has unfortunately since closed down - I have his Vinyl Records T-shirt, his Peace Love Anarchy baseball cap (which Janis Ian commented on this past July at Falcon Ridge, saying she and Todd were e-mail buddies), every commercial CD he's ever released and quite a few bootlegs made available through his avid fanbase, a few DVDs... and countless memories of the joy his music has given me: priceless!

And now his new CD, Peace Queer, is about to be released on October 14 (his birthday) - I've pre-ordered, so am keeping my fingers crossed it arrives Tuesday, a week from today. "Fighting for peace, that's like screaming for quiet" - I repeat... brilliant... :-)

His website is being re-done... but check out this fan-driven site, called Eighteen Minutes for the monologue he usually does during his shows (“Some of it’s sad, some of it’s funny, and sometimes I’ll go on for as many as 18 minutes in between the songs.”), for all things Todd - he never fails to amaze... and challenge... and entertain!

[Added 10/8/08: Austin American-Statesman article... ]

SONG: Mission Accomplished by Todd Snider (no lyrics available yet)

BOOK:
The Moral Architecture of World Peace: Nobel Laureates Discuss Our Global Future by Helena Cobban

POEM: Wildpeace by Yehuda Amichai

Not the peace of a cease-fire

not even the vision of the wolf and the lamb,

but rather

as in the heart when the excitement is over

and you can talk only about a great weariness.

I know that I know how to kill, that makes me an adult.

And my son plays with a toy gun that knows

how to open and close its eyes and say Mama.


A peace without the big noise of beating swords into ploughshares,

without words,

without the thud of the heavy rubber stamp: let it be

light, floating, like lazy white foam.


A little rest for the wounds - who speaks of healing?

(And the howl of the orphans is passed from one generation

to the next, as in a relay race:

the baton never falls.)


Let it come

like wildflowers,

suddenly, because the field

must have it: wildpeace.

QUOTE: "The pacifist's task today is to find a method of helping and healing which provides a revolutionary constructive substitute for war." ~ Vera Brittain

Friday, September 5, 2008

All That Matters (Todd Snider)

"These are the times that try [wo]men's souls" ~ Thomas Paine

Lots going on these days, both locally and globally, such that we are challenged to think realistically as well as wax optimistically - I have always been a firm believer in the Power of Positive Thinking (no duh, Susan!) and I am intentioning my patootie off right now... :-)

First of all, let's talk about this hurricane season - we've been unbelievably lucky the last few years... and it's natural to give in to the mindset of "oh well, they had to catch up with us sometime". I beg to differ - I have wished strongly for Fay, Gustav and Hanna to present as near-misses... and they have. Upcoming
Ike may be more of a challenge... but I'm not giving up (my money's on the southernmost track on the computer model) - obviously, we are taking this day by day... and there is a fine line between anxiety and preparation.

We're fairly well-stocked with canned goods, water and non-perishables (cereal bars, granola bars, crackers, etc.) - I'll stop on the way home and fill up the car with gas and get cash from the ATM. The next few days will determine whether or not we put up the hurricane shutters and take down the windchimes (ugh) - in the meantime, thoughts/prayers/purple candles are much appreciated... <3

And then... there's the election coming up in November - I'm an Obama woman (another no duh). This deserves a whole other post but, scratching the surface, I am trying not to be annoyed that McCain's VP choice is just so *insulting* to women - how dare he think he can play the gender trump card... and females all over the country will fall for the bait and switch and ignore the fact Palin is so staunchly conservative. My friend Judi sent me this YouTube link - love it!

Storms on the horizon indeed - as my dear Todd Snider sings:

"Out in the rain, lost as I was
I said "You think it'll ever stop"
You said "It always does"


Once in a while
joy throws little stones at my window
it wants to let me know that it's waiting for me
but today I'm calm
I'd almost say even-tempered
I'm going to keep anxiety locked up
and then lie flat on my back
which is an elegant and comfortable position
for receiving and believing news

who knows where I'll be next
or when my story will be taken into account
who knows what advice I still might come up with
and what easy way out I'll take not to follow it

don't worry, I won't gamble with an eviction
I won't tattoo remembering with forgetting
there are many things left to say and suppress
and many grapes left to fill our mouths

don't worry, I'm convinced
joy doesn't need to throw any more little stones
I'm coming
I'm coming.

QUOTE: "The average pencil is seven inches long, with just a half-inch eraser - in case you thought optimism was dead." ~ Robert Brault

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

America's Favorite Pastime (Todd Snider)

Claim: Pittsburgh Pirates pitcher Dock Ellis hurled a no-hitter while under the influence of LSD.

Status: True.

The rest of the story can be found here...

And more...


YouTube video here...


POEM: Analysis of Baseball by May Swenson

It's about
the ball,
the bat,
and the mitt.
Ball hits
bat, or it
hits mitt.
Bat doesn't
hit ball, bat
meets it.
Ball bounces
off bat, flies
air, or thuds
ground (dud)
or it
fits mitt.

Bat waits
for ball
to mate.
Ball hates
to take bat's
bait. Ball
flirts, bat's
late, don't
keep the date.
Ball goes in
(thwack) to mitt,
and goes out
(thwack) back
to mitt.

Ball fits
mitt, but
not all
the time.
Sometimes
ball gets hit
(pow) when bat
meets it,
and sails
to a place
where mitt
has to quit
in disgrace.
That's about
the bases
loaded,
about 40,000
fans exploded.

It's about
the ball,
the bat,
the mitt,
the bases
and the fans.
It's done
on a diamond,
and for fun.
It's about
home, and it's
about run.

QUOTE: "Baseball? It's just a game - as simple as a ball and a bat. Yet, as complex as the American spirit it symbolizes. It's a sport, business - and sometimes even religion." ~ Ernie Harwell

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

D. B. Cooper (Todd Snider)

This news story came across the AP wires this morning... at about the same time this poem's e-newsletter arrived in my inbox - somehow, in my metempsychotic (I learned a new word today!) brain, they seemed to fit... :-)

March 26, 2008

It's dirty and it's old, but a piece of cloth found in a Washington field might hold the key to solving one of the FBI's most enduring mysteries.

On Nov. 24, 1971, an unassuming man wearing a business suit and appearing to be in his mid-40s allegedly hijacked and threatened to blow up a Northwest Orient Airlines plane traveling from Portland, Ore., to Seattle if he did not get four parachutes and a $200,000 ransom.

When the plane landed in Seattle, the suspect, known only as Dan Cooper or D.B. Cooper, allowed the passengers and two flight attendants off the plane, and the officials handed over the money, in $20 bills, and the parachutes.

According to the FBI, Cooper simply told the remaining crew to "fly to Mexico" after they took off from Seattle.

"Back in the early '70's, late '60's, hijackings weren't uncommon. The philosophy of the day was cooperate. Comply with his demands and we'll deal with it when the plane lands," said Larry Carr, an FBI special agent who manages the case out of the bureau's office in Seattle.

In a daring getaway, Cooper jumped out of the speeding 727, thousands of feet over the Pacific Northwest, during a raging storm. Cooper disappeared, and is still missing today, despite a massive manhunt.

In 1980, the case was put in the spotlight once again, after a young boy found $5,800 in $20 bills from the ransom money decomposing along the banks of the Columbia River.
But no Cooper.

Countless suspects have emerged, but none have turned out to be the mystery man. In 2001, the FBI extracted a DNA sample from the J.C. Penney tie he was wearing on the flight and left behind before jumping, but that sample hasn't matched up with anyone in the investigators' sights.

Cooper's story became the stuff of lore, even a movie. Now, more than three decades later, the FBI has the possibility of a breakthrough.

Two weeks ago, two children discovered a parachute buried in the dirt, in a field approximately 100 miles south of Seattle. Investigators still need to excavate part of the chute's remains.

"It's the right color, it's the right size. It's definitely the right location, so the investigation will tell," said Carr.

He told ABC News he hopes the forensic tests on the chute will be completed this weekend.

He noted that parachutes buried in the middle of nowhere aren't something found very often, so the find could offer a big break in the case if it pans out.

But does the parachute belong to Cooper? Will they find his remains? Or is this a tantalizing clue that will again lead to disappointment? Stay tuned.



POEM: Metempsychosis by Jane Hirshfield

Some stories last many centuries,
others only a moment.
All alter over that lifetime like beach-glass,
grow distant and more beautiful with salt.

Yet even today, to look at a tree
and ask the story Who are you? is to be transformed.

There is a stage in us where each being, each thing, is a mirror.

Then the bees of self pour from the hive-door,
ravenous to enter the sweetness of flowering nettles and thistle.

Next comes the ringing a stone or violin or empty bucket
gives off-
the immeasurable's continuous singing,
before it goes back into story and feeling.

In Borneo, there are palm trees that walk on their high roots.
Slowly, with effort, they lift one leg then another.

I would like to join that stilted transmigration,
to feel my own skin vertical as theirs:
an ant-road, a highway for beetles.

I would like not minding, whatever travels my heart.
To follow it all the way into leaf-form, bark-furl, root-touch,
and then keep walking, unimaginably further.

QUOTE(S): History, like a vast river, propels logs, vegetation, rafts, and debris; it is full of live and dead things, some destined for resurrection; it mingles many waters and holds in solution invisible substances stolen from distant soils." ~ Jacques Barzun

"Civilization is a stream with banks. The stream is sometimes filled with blood from people killing, stealing, shouting and doing the things historians usually record, while on the banks, unnoticed, people build homes, make love, raise children, sing songs, write poetry and even whittle statues. The story of civilization is the story of what happened on the banks. Historians are pessimists because they ignore the banks for the river." ~ Will Durant