My Rainbow Race (Pete Seeger)

So... our Pete Seeger 90th Birthday Celebration yesterday was a total success - below is what I posted to our local folk discussion list:

Thanks so much to Tony Thomas, David Engels and Ellen Bukstel for weighing in on today's Pete Seeger 90th Birthday Celebration - I pulled into my driveway about 10 p.m., after breaking down (the church, not mentally!)... cleaning up and driving a few people home...

Let me first thank everyone for their patience, their enthusiasm and their willingness to stay... long after our 2-hour projected concert time frame came and went - who knew we'd end up with anywhere near that many people?!? (about 300, by our count). It was a loaves-and-fishes moment - just when you didn't think we'd find any more chairs... or any more room to put them... we did (magic... on so many levels!)...

Each and every performer (Allan Aunapu, Amy Carol Webb, Arlene Boumel, Bob Singer, Ellen Bukstel, Jack Lieberman, Matthew Sabatella, Ray DelPapa, Rob Koppelman, Rod MacDonald, Rudy Delgado, South Florida Raging Grannies, South Florida Solidarity Singers, Vanessa Gilyard and Tony Thomas) was prepared and professional... not to mention inspiring - as I said from the stage, they donated their time, treasure and talent to help make this event happen. We are incredibly lucky to have such gifted artists "in our own backyard" - I do confess to weeping during We Shall Overcome, as everyone in the room stood up, linked arms, swayed and sang so beautifully together...

Additional thanks to the sponsors, who brought literature and petitions and reminded us of Pete's ongoing legacy: of ecology, of activism, of the power of hope - they donated some great raffle prizes too!

After expenses (minimal), we made $1606 (from the gate, raffle ticket sales and caterer donation), which was split 50/50 between the Clearwater Next Generation Legacy Project and the Unitarian Universalist Church of Ft. Lauderdale, our gracious hosts for the afternoon - also... many people stayed afterwards to eat cake, watch Allan's film... and/or participate in the song circle... :-)

It was a pleasure working with the Birthday Committee (Bob and Patty Bender, Vicki Ryder, Virginia Anderson, Dan Isaacson, and Ray DelPapa)...and I'm proud of ALL of us for organizing, facilitating and supporting such a community-building event - the Power of Song indeed!

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I meant to post this last week... but you can hear our radio interview that aired Sunday, April 19 (with Rod MacDonald, Allan Aunapu, Vicki Ryder and myself) here...

SONG: My Rainbow Race by Pete Seeger

BOOK(S): The Protest Singer: An Intimate Portrait of Pete Seeger by Alec Wilkinson

"To Everything There is a Season": Pete Seeger and the Power of Song by Allan M. Winkler

How Can I Keep from Singing?: The Ballad of Pete Seeger by David King Dunaway

POEM: The Spring by Delmore Schwartz

(After Rilke)

Spring has returned! Everything has returned!

The earth, just like a schoolgirl, memorizes

Poems, so many poems. ... Look, she has learned

So many famous poems, she has earned so many prizes!

Teacher was strict. We delighted in the white

Of the old man's beard, bright like the snows:

Now we may ask which names are wrong, or right

For "blue," for "apple," for "ripe." She knows, she knows!

Lucky earth, let out of school, now you must play

Hide-and-seek with all the children every day:

You must hide that we may seek you: we will! We will!

The happiest child will hold you. She knows all the things

You taught her: the word for "hope," and for "believe,"

Are still upon her tongue. She sings and sings and sings.

QUOTE: "There is hope for the world." ~ Pete Seeger

Every Grain of Sand (Bob Dylan)

Happy Earth Day!

I facilitated our UU church service this past Sunday, on the topic of our seventh principle: the interdependent web of life - below are excerpts from the sermon:

Springtime – the season of rebirth – is the perfect time to Celebrate Earth Sunday as humans have celebrated the bounty of Earth since ancient times. Everything we need for life comes from this Earth. There is no other source. So on this special occasion, let us “celebrate the web of life . . . seeing the divinity in every living thing.”

Attending to our relationship with Earth, and our responsibility for its care is crucial in this time as Earth suffers under the burden of careless human activities. And in gratitude for the beauty and bounty of this precious planet, let us also commit ourselves to “protect the lives of all that share the glory of the Earth.”

If we pay attention, the Earth will teach us gratitude instead of grasping, simple joy instead of compulsive consumption, openness to life instead of a driven (and fruitless) attempt to control everything. Thoughtlessness needs to give way to awareness, arrogance to compassion, addiction to balanced calm. A deep and abiding connection with nature can be that antidote to the compulsiveness and stresses of a life spent chasing the materialism of our post-modern American Dream.

As Unitarian Universalists, we profess to believe in the interdependent web – the unity of all existence. And we acknowledge that we are a part of it. Not outside of it. Not separate from it. And not subject to a different set of rules, or consequences. The evidence for its Truth is found in science, and also art and spirituality. We feel the interdependence in our relationships with each other, and our relationships with non-human creatures, and specific places. Our consciousness of these connections has to influence the way we live. How can we allow ourselves to use more of the Earth’s gifts than we need, knowing that our grandchildren and future generations will not have what they need for survival? How can we let our greed get in the way of our relationships?

We Americans suffer from a “Gratitude Deficit Disorder” – we keep trying to make ourselves happy through more stuff, but it never works, so we have to grab for even more stuff. It’s a never ending escalation, this addiction to stuff. We must break the cycle, remembering that happiness comes from relationships, connections, satisfaction of worthwhile endeavors.

[ Here... two long-time members at the Unitarian Universalist Church of Ft. Lauderdale shared their own personal experiences and relationship with the Earth. ]

In the final analysis, to love the Earth is to participate in the circles of life with respect and compassion. It is to live, work, and play in communities... communities that celebrate our interconnectedness and strengthen our ties... with one another, with the land, and with all of nature. We must deepen our sense of place, and take time to watch, and listen, and absorb the wisdom of the Earth.

Our longing for a healthy future for all beings may seem too good to be true when everything in our world conspires against our efforts to reach that vision. But hope assumes that, in the end, all will be well. That all must be well! Hope is not based on facts. Hope is a choice built on the faith that we have the imagination and creativity to build such a future. And that we are, in fact, building it.

In addition to the suggestions made by F and K... we urge you today to make, or continue, a commitment to action: bring your canvas bags to the grocery store... recycle... walk, bus or bike instead of driving and, if you do drive, carpool... use compact fluorescent light bulbs... turn off lights when you leave a room... brush your teeth with the water off... plant a garden... start and maintain a compost pile... become a locavore (eating as much locally-grown food as possible)... buy minimally-packaged goods to reduce your garbage... go on a low carbon diet... support carbon offsets... take the Ten Tree Challenge, which is listed on the UU Ministry for Earth website, which was a great resource for this service...

The principle of the interconnected web reminds us that we are connected to each other as well as to the Earth and all the creatures that are a part of nature. And we must spread the message of our that connection, a message that challenges us to heal the Earth for our children, and for all of Beings on this precious planet. We must all envision and work towards a future that will be healthy for all beings as if our lives depended on it. Because, in fact, it does.

May we be among those bringing forth that vision. And may that vision come to be our reality.

P.S. Have you seen Google's logo today?

SONG: Every Grain of Sand by Bob Dylan

BOOK: Thinking Like a Mountain: Towards a Council of All Beings by John Seed, Joanna Macy, Pat Fleming

POEM: To Begin With, the Sweet Grass (excerpt) by Mary Oliver

1.

Will the hungry ox stand in the field and not eat
of the sweet grass?
Will the owl bite off its own wings?
Will the lark forget to lift its body in the air or
forget to sing?
Will the rivers run upstream?

Behold, I say - behold
the reliability and the finery and the teachings
of this gritty earth gift.

2.

Eat bread and understand comfort.
Drink water, and understand delight.
Visit the garden where the scarlet trumpets
are opening their bodies for the hummingbirds
who are drinking the sweetness, who are
thrillingly gluttonous.

For one thing leads to another.
Soon you will notice how stones shine underfoot.
Eventually tides will be the only calendar you believe in.

And someone's face, whom you love, will be as a star
both intimate and ultimate,
and you will be both heart-shaken and respectful.
And you will hear the air itself, like a beloved, whisper:
oh, let me, for a while longer, enter the two
beautiful bodies of your lungs.

7.

What I loved in the beginning, I think, was mostly myself.
Never mind that I had to, since somebody had to.
That was many years ago.
Since then I have gone out from my confinements,
through with difficulty.
I mean the ones that thought to rule my heart.
I cast them out, I put them on the mush pile.
They will be nourishment somehow (everything is nourishment
somehow or another).
And I have become the child of the clouds, and of hope.
I have become the friend of the enemy, whoever that is.
I have become older and, cherishing what I have learned,
I have become younger.

And what do I risk to tell you this, which is all I know?
Love yourself. Then forget it. Then, love the world.

QUOTE: “To be alive in this beautiful, self-organizing universe – to participate in the dance of life with senses to perceive it, lungs that breathe it, organs that draw nourishment from it – is a wonder beyond words. Gratitude for the gift of life is the primary wellspring of all religions, the hallmark of the mystic, the source of all true art. Furthermore, it is a privilege to be alive in this time when we can choose to take part in the self-healing of our world.” ~ Joanna Macy

Blueberry Hill (Fats Domino)

Have you had your RDA (Recommended Dietary Allowance) of anti-oxidants today? - well... now you have... :-)

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Blueberries are good for the heart, study hints
Mon Apr 20, 2009
by Megan Rauscher

NEW YORK (Reuters Health) - Eating blueberries, as part of a healthy diet, may help ward off several key risk factors for cardiovascular disease and diabetes, such as an accumulation of belly fat, high cholesterol, and high blood sugar, according to research reported Sunday at the Experimental Biology conference in New Orleans.

The health benefits of blueberries are thought to be due to their high levels of phytochemicals - naturally occurring antioxidants called anthocyanins found in darkly pigmented fruits and vegetables.

"In the long-term Women's Health Study, it was shown that women who had diets high in anthocyanins had a significantly reduced risk for heart disease," University of Michigan research scientist E. Mitchell Seymour told Reuters Health.

In studies involving overweight rats, Seymour and colleagues looked at the effects of adding freeze-dried blueberry powder to a low-fat and a high-fat diet.

"We looked at things that are relevant to heart disease," Seymour explained, "like total body fat, abdominal fat, blood lipids (fats), and the body's ability to manage blood sugar levels and we found that they were affected by the blueberry."

After 90 days, rats fed the blueberry powder had less abdominal fat and lower levels of cholesterol and harmful triglycerides than control rats that weren't fed any blueberry powder.

Blueberry-fed rats also had improvements in blood sugar levels and in how their bodies used insulin to process sugar for energy - both of which could help keep diabetes at bay.

The benefits of a blueberry-rich diet were more pronounced when combined with the low-fat diet, as compared to the high fat diet, "but the majority of those benefits were still present even in a higher-fat, more typical American diet," Seymour said.

The study was supported by the U.S. Highbush Blueberry Council.

P.S. SMM here, here and here...

SONG: Blueberry Hill by Fats Domino

BOOK: Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey

POEM: Blueberry by Diane Lockward

Deep-blue hue of the body, silvery bloom

on its skin. Undersized runt of a fruit,

like something that failed to thrive, dented top

a fontanel. Lopsided globe. A temperate zone.

Tiny paradox, tart and sweet, homely

but elegant afloat in sugar and cream,

baked in a pie, a cobbler, a muffin.

The power of blue. Number one antioxidant fruit,

bantam-weight champ in the fight against

urinary tract infections, best supporting actor

in a fruit salad. No peeling, coring or cutting.

Lay them out on a counter, strands of blue pearls.

Pop one at a time, like M&M's, into your mouth.

Be a glutton and stuff in a handful, your tongue,

lips, chin dyed blue, as if feasting on indigo.

Fruit of the state of New Jersey.

Favorite fruit of my mother.

Sundays she scooped them into pancake batter,

poured circles onto the hot greased griddle, sizzled

them gold and blue, doused with maple syrup.

This is what I want to remember: my mother

and me, our quilted robes, hair in curlers,

that kitchen, that table,

plates stacked with pancakes, blueberries sparkling

like gemstones, blue stars in a gold sky,

the universe in reverse,

the two of us eating blueberry pancakes.

QUOTE: "I am not bound for any public place, but for ground of my own where I have planted vines and orchard trees, and in the heat of the day climbed up into the healing shadow of the woods. Better than any argument is to rise at dawn and pick dew-wet berries in a cup." ~ Wendell Berry

Turn! Turn! Turn! (Pete Seeger)

Happy Birthday, Dar Williams!

My salvation/salvage/salve (see poem below) is the music... and Dar is a big part of that - blessings on the day she was born, 42 years ago... :-)

We used to coordinate projects/activities through the Dar-list for her birthday, which can be seen here and here - this year nothing official was organized... but here is my contribution:

In April 1998, when I was a fairly new fan, Dar appeared on the Conan O'Brien show with Pete Seeger, who I didn't know much about at all - who knew that, eleven years later, I'd be helping to coordinate a Pete Seeger 90th Birthday Celebration in South Florida, with local musicians and local nationally-touring performers... including a friend who was Pete's first captain of The Clearwater?!?

This has turned into a very big deal and today, along with three other participants, I appeared on our Folk and Acoustic Show to promote the event (and even asked the DJ to play Dar's cover, with Toshi Reagon, of Pete's Oh, Had I a Golden Thread) - our venue seats about 250, and we are now sweating the proverbial bullets that we will have enough space for everyone!

And... coming full circle, Dar is performing at the Pete Seeger celebration in Madison Square Garden - birthday wishes abound... :-)

The poem below also makes me think of Dar's song Arrival: "that's when you knew this world can't be saved, only discovered" - what an amazing lyric...

SONG: Turn! Turn! Turn! by Pete Seeger

BOOK: Turn! Turn! Turn!: The '60s Folk-Rock Revolution by Richie Unterberger

POEM: Salvation by Lynn Ungar

By what are you saved? And how?
Saved like a bit of string,
tucked away in a drawer?
Saved like a child rushed from
a burning building, already
singed and coughing smoke?
Or are you salvaged
like a car part -- the one good door
when the rest is wrecked?

Do you believe me when I say
you are neither salvaged nor saved,
but salved, anointed by gentle hands
where you are most tender?
Haven't you seen
the way snow curls down
like a fresh sheet, how it
covers everything,
makes everything
beautiful, without exception?

QUOTE: "Because time itself is like a spiral, something special happens on your birthday each year: The same energy that God invested in you at birth is present once again." ~ Menachem Mendel Schneerson

Do Re Mi (Maria and the Von Trapp Children)

We had a lovely Easter Sunday yesterday - my son Rob worked, getting home about 5-ish, and we ate a bit before 6 (Eric was home from college for the weekend). I made Poppyseed Chicken (my sister's recipe), brown rice, steamed broccoli, steamed carrots with dill weed and a homemade apple cobbler for dessert - Sarah and I even dyed Easter eggs. I never made it out walking... but figured I could use a bit of a break, since I had followed through the previous six days in a row - so proud of myself!

We hung out until about 10, watching the first half of The Sound of Music (thus the synchronicity of the above YouTube video appearing in my inbox today)... and then Sarah headed home and the boys went out together - I watched some mindless TV and fell asleep on the couch, exhausted after the whirlwind weekend (my Labyrinth Cafe concert, with one of the artists staying with us Friday and Saturday night)...

Today has been an attempt to catch up: laundry, putting the Ozfice back in place (folding up sleep couch, etc.), finishing the dishes I let soak in the sink last night - I still need to get in my walk... and work seriously on the local Pete Seeger event as well as write the Order of Service for my UU Earth Day service this Sunday. I also took Reba out to lunch as she leaves tomorrow to head back to her home in Maryland - I'll miss her...

SONG: Do Re Mi, as sung by Julie Andrews and children in The Sound of Music

BOOK: The Mysticism of Sound and Music by Hazrat Inayat Khan

POEM: Snow Geese by Mary Oliver

Oh, to love what is lovely, and will not last!

What a task

to ask

of anything, or anyone,

yet it is ours,

and not by the century or the year, but by the hours.

One fall day I heard

above me, and above the sting of the wind, a sound

I did not know, and my look shot upward; it was

a flock of snow geese, winging it

faster than the ones we usually see,

and, being the color of snow, catching the sun

so they were, in part at least, golden. I

held my breath

as we do

sometimes

to stop time

when something wonderful

has touched us

as with a match,

which is lit, and bright,

but does not hurt

in the common way,

but delightfully,

as if delight

were the most serious thing

you ever felt.

The geese

flew on,

I have never seen them again.

Maybe I will, someday, somewhere.

Maybe I won't.

It doesn't matter.

What matters

is that, when I saw them,

I saw them

as through the veil, secretly, joyfully, clearly.

QUOTE: "As your faith is strengthened you will find that there is no longer the need to have a sense of control, that things will flow as they will, and that you will flow with them, to your great delight and benefit." ~ Emmanuel

Spring Street (Dar Williams)

I've written before that we don't really have distinct seasons here in South Florida - it feels like almost year-round summer, with flowers blooming constantly, no falling of leaves and no winter to speak of. For the attuned, the difference is subtle yet distinct - we've been experiencing a "cold snap" (i.e., 60+ degree nights, 70+ degree days) which has been refreshing, invigorating and a wake-up call for me personally...

I went through a patch these last few months whereupon I lost my concentration - I got so bogged down in the minutae of daily life (everyone else's) that I forgot to pay attention to my own. I was eating crap (and lots of it!), being extremely sedentary and in a stuck place productivity- and positivity-wise - through the motivation of various blogposts (here and here) and the support of a particular friend on a similar journey (hi, MH!), I am back on track in all its many connotations...

This past Monday found me focusing on... my 3-mile trek around the neighborhood (god, I'd missed my walking!), followed by a stretching routine; a healthy eating plan of fresh fruits, vegetables and whole grains, with my only sweet/indulgence being a Skinny Cow (love the taste, hate the name!) ice cream sandwich each evening; vitamins twice a day (memory's the second thing to go, you know!); an as-close-to-midnight-as-I-can-make-it bedtime; and beaucoup glasses of water - I've succeeded four out of the last four days, and am well on the way to completing today's assignment...

Still haven't managed to make/find time for 10 minutes of meditation a day - always room for improvement. I've vowed to resume blogging on a semi-regular basis as well - there's a place in the world for the therapeutic spew-and-send (major understatement... :-)

Many plusses this week: Eric is home from college for the Easter weekend and we'll have a family dinner Sunday afternoon... my Labyrinth Cafe concert is this Saturday night, and it got a nice treatment in today's Miami Herald... we get to hard-boil and dye eggs tomorrow... and the HBO drama In Treatment is back with Season 2 - "I don't have to go to Spring Street... 'cause it's spring everywhere"!

P.S. SMM here, here, here, here and here...

SONG: Spring Street by Dar Williams

BOOK: Spring: A Spiritual Biography of the Season by Gary D. Schmidt, Susan M. Felch (editors), Mary Azarian (illustrator)

POEM: Poem on a Line by Anne Sexton, 'We are All Writing God's Poem' by Barbara Crooker

Today, the sky's the soft blue of a work shirt washed

a thousand times. The journey of a thousand miles

begins with a single step. On the interstate listening

to NPR, I heard a Hubble scientist

say, "The universe is not only stranger than we

think, it's stranger than we can think." I think

I've driven into spring, as the woods revive
with a loud shout, redbud trees, their gaudy

scarves flung over bark's bare limbs. Barely doing

sixty, I pass a tractor trailer called Glory Bound,

and aren't we just? Just yesterday,

I read Li Po: "There is no end of things

in the heart," but it seems like things

are always ending—vacation or childhood,

relationships, stores going out of business,

like the one that sold jeans that really fit—

And where do we fit in? How can we get up

in the morning, knowing what we do? But we do,

put one foot after the other, open the window,

make coffee, watch the steam curl up

and disappear. At night, the scent of phlox curls

in the open window, while the sky turns red violet,

lavender, thistle, a box of spilled crayons.

The moon spills its milk on the black tabletop

for the thousandth time.

QUOTE(S): "Every spring is the only spring - a perpetual astonishment." ~ Ellis Peters

"The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created Spring." ~ Bern Williams

Pretty How Town (Kris Delmorst)

April 1 is most certainly April Fool's Day... but it is also the beginning of National Poetry Month:

Inaugurated by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, National Poetry Month is now held every April, when publishers, booksellers, literary organizations, libraries, schools and poets around the country band together to celebrate poetry and its vital place in American culture. Thousands of businesses and non-profit organizations participate through readings, festivals, book displays, workshops, and other events.

More here...

P.S. SMM here, here and here...

SONG: Pretty How Town by Kris Delmhorst

BOOK: Poem in Your Pocket: 200 Poems to Read and Carry, edited by Elaine Bleakney

POEM: How to Read a Poem: Beginner's Manual by Pamela Spiro Wagner

First, forget everything you have learned,

that poetry is difficult,

that it cannot be appreciated by the likes of you,

with your high school equivalency diploma,

your steel-tipped boots,

or your white-collar misunderstandings.

Do not assume meanings hidden from you:

the best poems mean what they say and say it.

To read poetry requires only courage

enough to leap from the edge

and trust.

Treat a poem like dirt,

humus rich and heavy from the garden.

Later it will become the fat tomatoes

and golden squash piled high upon your kitchen table.

Poetry demands surrender,

language saying what is true,

doing holy things to the ordinary.

Read just one poem a day.

Someday a book of poems may open in your hands

like a daffodil offering its cup

to the sun.

When you can name five poets

without including Bob Dylan,

when you exceed your quota

and don't even notice,

close this manual.

QUOTE: "Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary." ~ Kahlil Gibran

Lucky (Danny Schmidt)

This is what's been happening in my life since late Monday/early Tuesday... reprinted from various e-mail updates I wrote to family and friends - cutting to the chase (before you have to read the loooooong recap below): I am now home and Eric is much better (another crisis averted!).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sent: Tue, 24 Mar 2009 7:41 pm

Subject: Eric

I'm doing one big-*ss bcc: to keep everyone in the loop - I know you all understand...

I am in the hospital room with E, who is sleeping soundly, with an IV drip of antibiotics and pain medication - they're also giving him a potassium IV, as that's severely low...

I made it to Orlando in three hours (what is normally a 4-hour drive) - let's just say the Universe was running interference, in the form of a black car in front of me that was going a few miles faster (mumble mumble 80+ mumble mumble), making everyone move out of the way, which I followed it almost the entire trip. Coincidence? - I think not...

Long story short: Eric (my 20-year-old son, as most of you know) woke up yesterday (Monday morning) with a lesion on his left cheek, and the whole side of his face swollen and painful, including an almost-shut eye - he went to a walk-in clinic, where they gave him antibiotics and pain meds in pill form, and told him to come back the following day...

When things still were not better by 8 p.m., his roommate took him back there, whereupon the doctor on duty told him to go immediately to an emergency room - after a few hours there, they admitted him a bit before midnight. I knew at that point I would be driving up today, spending a few hours this morning clearing my calendar - thanks to all of you who I cancelled/ postponed...

A doctor specializing in infectious diseases came in this morning, but hasn't been back - Eric is now in what is considered to be isolation, recommending that people who visit wear gowns/ gloves. At this point, they are trying to rule out what it's not - he's had a CAT scan, blood work and various swabs. The lesion/swelling has happened twice before in the last six months, but not anywhere this severely - it just feels good to finally be dealing with it...

I so appreciate everyone's skyward prayers... purple candles... healing energy... good thoughts... best wishes - I will pass them on when he wakes. I have packed enough for a 5-day stay, and will be here longer if necessary - the cafeteria food (mmm, salad bar) is pretty good (weak smile... :-)

I'll attempt daily updates - in the meantime, thanks again for the continued blessing of your friendship...

Sent: Wed, 25 Mar 2009 8:44 pm

Subject: Eric - 3/25/09 update

It's been a good day, informationally and otherwise, after a very frustrating evening of fitful rest coupled with constant interruptions - I know it's for Eric's own good but, when there's someone in the room every hour, taking vitals, changing IV bags, giving pain medication, making sure he's hydrated, etc., it's exhausting... literally...

He did catch up a bit during the day, sleeping more deeply and for a longer period of time since I've been here - I'm glad I'm able to run interference/be the advocate to answer questions so they don't have to bother him unnecessarily...

So... we were finally able to talk to the doctor of infectious diseases today... and, although they can't confirm until the culture comes back (48 to 72 hours after swabbing his nasal cavity yesterday), he is 90-95% certain it is MRSA, a staph infection common in hospitals, athletic environments and student communities. What we thought was a spider bite this past fall seems to have been this (strange they didn't diagnose it as such at the time, especially in a college town) - I've done a bit of googling and it's more than a bit scary, although comforting now that we know what we're dealing with...

http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/mrsa/DS00735

Some people are more susceptible than others - Eric could very well be affected the rest of his life, and we're becoming informed on ways he can attempt to minimize outbreaks. They will be keeping him another two days (at least) to make sure the antibiotics have made a major impact on the infection - he already looks and feels substantially better since my arrival, although the wound site is still painful and abscessed, albeit smaller...

Poor baby - we'll try to get him showered and changed into fresh clothing later tonight (we need their help, because the IV line goes through the sleeve of the gown), which will go a long way toward recovery...

When he's finally discharged, I'll stay up here another day to help with laundry, cleaning and cooking - what's a mom for if not to make big batches of soup, right?!?

Again... thanks - your collaborative and continued love is felt and passed on...

P.S. I'm finally getting around to reading Wally Lamb's The Hour I First Believed - highly recommended (waving to my BookWomen, sorry about missing tonight's Pride and Prejudice meeting... :-)

http://www.amazon.com/Hour-I-First-Believed-Novel/dp/0060393491

Sent: Fri, 27 Mar 2009 11:13 am

Subject: Eric - 3/27/09 update (He Shall Be Released - with apologies to Bob Dylan)

Wanted to let you all know Eric was released last night (Thursday) about 8 p.m. - it happened quickly, with the doctor coming in about 5 to check on the lesion, which had begun draining earlier in the day (apparently what they had been waiting for). He escalated prescription writing for oral antibiotics and pain medication and, once those finally came through (we had already started packing), we were good to go. And yes, if you're confusedly wondering... three hours *is* quick by hospital standards - it's certainly been an exercise in patience and perspective...

Cut to the chase: we spent the night at Eric's apartment last night, which he shares with a roommate - how wonderful to finally stretch out, face down, on a real bed (as opposed to face up on a semi-reclining, hard-as-a-rock chair) - I'm having to use his computer, as there's no wireless in the complex to people who don't live there/subscribe...

The plan today is to do lots of laundry (hot water and bleach), clean the apartment and make sh*tpots (a Southern term for beaucoups) of soup - I could actually end up coming home tonight or may wait until tomorrow (Saturday), depending on his need to have me here/desire to be rid of me now that he's better...

More health/technical stuff involved, of course, which I won't regale you with - let's just say that it's a process, and we're prepared to handle it all, one day at a time...

Thanks again - your support and love are palpable and cherished...

Sent: Sat, 28 Mar 2009 8:54 pm

Subject: Re: Eric - 3/28/09 update (Home - Meg Hutchinson)

Just wanted to quickly let everyone know I'm home, leaving Orlando for Pembroke Pines about 3:30 this afternoon) - will spend the remainder of the evening catching up on voicemail and e-mail and snail mail, oh my!

I promise to follow up with personal replies tomorrow as I attempt to get back into the chaos I call my life - thanks in advance for everyone's patience... :-)

Eric is much better, after having consumed about 10 bowls of my soup so far - I think there are a few gallons left. Hey, I'm Italian - I don't know how to cook "small". I also made dinner last night... lots of pasta, sauteed veggies and turkey meatballs for him, his roommate, his roommate's girlfriend and a few other friends who wandered into their apartment - I stocked the fridge and pantry with other healthful options as well... and we cleaned/disinfected everything in sight...

The hospital sent him home with two prescriptions, one of which (the antibiotic) could only be half-filled until the pharmacy re-stocks on Monday... and the other (the painkiller) couldn't be filled at all because the doctor wrote the wrong date (2006 instead of 2009). Since Eric was discharged, I have to wait to call Medical Records, which doesn't re-open until Monday, to straighten everything out - so frustrating, because it was their error (and thankfully, he has enough from his previous prescription to get him through a few days)...

So... attempting business as usual... slooooowly - thanks again to all... for just *being* there...

P.S. Headed soon to the jacuzzi... with something alcoholic in hand - "got a little pinot grigio for a woman with the blues?" (I miss you, Rachel... :-)

SONG: Lucky by Danny Schmidt

BOOK: The Hour I First Believed by Wally Lamb

POEM: Meditation on Ruin by Jay Hopler

It's not the lost lover that brings us to ruin, or the barroom

brawl,

or the con game gone bad, or the beating

Taken in the alleyway. But the lost car keys,

The broken shoelace,

The overcharge at the gas pump

Which we broach without comment — these are the things that

eat away at life, these constant vibrations

In the web of the unremarkable.

The death of a father — the death of the mother —

The sudden loss shocks the living flesh alive! But the broken

pair of glasses,

The tear in the trousers,

These begin an ache behind the eyes.

And it's this ache to which we will ourselves

Oblivious. We are oblivious. Then, one morning—there's a

crack in the water glass —we wake to find ourselves undone.

QUOTE: "In all chaos there is a cosmos, in all disorder a secret order." ~ Carl Jung

Better Off Broke (Danny Schmidt)

Tuesday, March 10 was the official CD Release of Danny Schmidt's Instead the Forest Rose to Sing... and this past Saturday, March 14, I had the honor of presenting him (in a co-bill with Nick Annis) in my concert series - it's taken me this long to revive my vocabulary in order to write about the magical weekend!

I've spoken of my love for Danny Schmidt's music throughout this blog - he is as dear as he is talented, a sentiment reinforced during his recent stay. He made a point to show up early so we had time to visit before driving to the Labyrinth Cafe later that day - he also offered to help chop or stir, as he was keeping me company in the kitchen while I made a batch of pasta primavera for the performers and volunteers (I didn't let him... but still... :-)

I had e-mailed Danny a few weeks before the gig, telling him how much, and why, I loved the song Accidentally Daisies on his new CD - I also mentioned that Elizabeth, who was accompanying Nick the night of the show, played fiddle/violin and, with Danny's blessing, I could drop her a note asking her to work up a string part for the second half of the song (stating of course no pressure/no worries if not). What could have turned into a "train wreck" (Danny's words) evolved into a stunning collaboration which meant the world to me - when the threesome (Danny, Elizabeth and Nick) did his Company of Friends as their encore, I had goosebumps on top of goosebumps...

We all later segued to Peter Pan Diner (a post-concert tradition) for food and chat, Danny and I getting home very late, only to have to rise early the next morning, Danny to drive to Tampa for a house concert and me to head to church to facilitate a service - before he left, I asked him to sign a CD for a friend and a poster for me... and I gave him a present to pass on to his sweetie who had inspired the song: a small bowl from my wedding china, with a border of daisies (thanks, CE... :-)

I've said it before and I'll say it again - I am a very blessed and lucky woman...

P.S. SMM here, here, here, here and here...

SONG: Better Off Broke by Danny Schmidt

BOOK: Money, and the Law of Attraction: Learning to Attract Wealth, Health, and Happiness by Esther Hicks, Jerry Hicks

POEM: The Moment by Margaret Atwood

The moment when, after many years

of hard work and a long voyage

you stand in the centre of your room,

house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,

knowing at last how you got there,

and say, I own this,

is the same moment when the trees unloose

their soft arms from around you,

the birds take back their language,

the cliffs fissure and collapse,

the air moves back from you like a wave

and you can't breathe.

No, they whisper. You own nothing.

You were a visitor, time after time

climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.

We never belonged to you.

You never found us.

It was always the other way round.

QUOTE: "Money and time are the heaviest burdens of life and... the unhappiest of all mortals are those who have more of either than they know how to use." ~ Samuel Johnson

Superstition (Stevie Wonder)

How Friday the 13th Works
by Tom Harris

In order to organize time, human beings created calendars.

As part of today's dominant calendar system, every year is divided into 12 periods called months, consisting of roughly 30 days each.

All days are also grouped into sets of seven, called weeks.

In the Western world, a significant chunk of the population suspects bad things will happen whenever the 13th day of a month occurs on the day of the week called Friday.

Like many human beliefs, the fear of Friday the 13th (known as paraskevidekatriaphobia) isn't exactly grounded in scientific logic. But the really strange thing is that most of the people who believe the day is unlucky offer no explanation at all, logical or illogical. As with most superstitions, people fear Friday the 13th for its own sake, without any need for background information.

The superstition does have deep, compelling roots, however, and the origins help explain why the belief is so widespread today. In this article, we'll look at some of the interesting stories behind this unluckiest of days.

The fear of Friday the 13th stems from two separate fears -- the fear of the number 13 and the fear of Fridays. Both fears have deep roots in Western culture, most notably in Christian theology.

Thirteen is significant to Christians because it is the number of people who were present at the Last Supper (Jesus and his 12 apostles). Judas, the apostle who betrayed Jesus, was the 13th member of the party to arrive.

Christians have traditionally been wary of Fridays because Jesus was crucified on a Friday. Additionally, some theologians hold that Adam and Eve ate from the forbidden fruit on a Friday, and that the Great Flood began on a Friday. In the past, many Christians would never begin any new project or trip on a Friday, fearing they would be doomed from the start.

Sailors were particularly superstitious in this regard, often refusing to ship out on a Friday. According to unverified legend (very likely untrue), the British Navy commissioned a ship in the 1800s called H.M.S. Friday, in order to quell the superstition. The navy selected the crew on a Friday, launched the ship on a Friday and even selected a man named James Friday as the ship's captain. Then, one Friday morning, the ship set off on its maiden voyage... and disappeared forever. A similar, entirely factual story is the harrowing flight of Apollo 13.

Some historians suggest the Christian distrust of Fridays is actually linked to the early Catholic Church's overall suppression of pagan religions and women. In the Roman calendar, Friday was devoted to Venus, the goddess of love. When Norsemen adapted the calendar, they named the day after Frigg, or Freya, Norse goddesses connected to love and sex. Both of these strong female figures once posed a threat to male-dominated Christianity, the theory goes, so the Christian church vilified the day named after them.

This characterization may also have played a part in the fear of the number 13. It was said that Frigg would often join a coven of witches, normally a group of 12, bringing the total to 13. This idea may have originated with the Christian Church itself; it's impossible to verify the exact origins of most folklore. A similar Christian legend holds that 13 is unholy because it signifies the gathering of 12 witches and the devil.

The number 13 could also have been considered pagan because there are 13 months in the pagan lunar calendar. The lunar calendar also corresponds to the human menstrual cycle, connecting the number to femininity.

The Christian perspective on Friday and 13 is the most relevant today, but it's only one part of the Friday the 13th tradition.

Some trace the infamy of the number 13 back to ancient Norse culture. In Norse mythology, the beloved hero Balder was killed at a banquet by the mischievous god Loki, who crashed the party of twelve, bringing the group to 13. This story, as well as the story of the Last Supper, led to one of the most entrenched 13-related beliefs: You should never sit down to a meal in a group of 13.

Another significant piece of the legend is a particularly bad Friday the 13th that occurred in the middle ages. On a Friday the 13th in 1306, King Philip of France arrested the revered Knights Templar and began torturing them, marking the occasion as a day of evil.

Both Friday and the number 13 were once closely associated with capital punishment. In British tradition, Friday was the conventional day for public hangings, and there were supposedly 13 steps leading up to the noose.

Ultimately, the complex folklore of Friday the 13th doesn't have much to do with people's fears today. The fear has much more to do with personal experience. People learn at a young age that Friday the 13th is supposed to be unlucky, for whatever reason, and then they look for evidence that the legend is true. The evidence isn't hard to come by, of course. If you get in a car wreck on one Friday the 13th, lose your wallet, or even spill your coffee, that day will probably stay with you. But if you think about it, bad things, big and small, happen all the time. If you're looking for bad luck on Friday the 13th, you'll probably find it.

For more information about Friday the 13th and other superstitions, check out the links on the next page.

SONG: Superstition by Stevie Wonder

BOOK: The Encyclopedia of Superstitions by Richard Webster

POEM: Superstition by Allan Peterson

I believe in the hot & dry, that’s why Florida.

I try circle for possession

and Far East, though that’s impossible for globes,

and something from the sky.

Meteors, nickel-filled, crystals as fragments

of a solid throne

because of heaven being ice, and shattering

despite some wishes,

I wear topaz for heat, strewn in my iris like straw,

lark’s eye wrapped in a wolf skin.

Thursdays I wear no rubies and put my watch aside,

add up my lucky days

avoid the rain and the ice saints, the uneven.

I am interested how nothing

is the fault of the afflicted, the malady is just

their bad shadow dragging them down.

How moth, a messenger, jimmied the house and died

by the light without telling us anything.

QUOTE: “The root of all superstition is that men observe when a thing hits, but not when it misses.” ~ Francis Bacon

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...

SONG: Play a Train Song by Todd Snider

BOOK: A Passion for Trains: The Railroad Photography of Richard Steinheimer by Richard Steinheimer, Jeff Brouws (introduction)

POEM: Trains by David Shumate

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

Shiny Happy People (R.E.M.)

From Thursday's TUT (Totally Unique Thoughts):

Simply imagine happiness, Susan, your own happiness. Feel the smile stretching across your face, notice the lightness in your step, hear the sparkle in your voice, and all things, material and spiritual, will dance to the beat of your drums.

Happy Thursday! The Universe

You smiled didn't you, Susan? Just be careful with those sparkles so close to the drums.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've been working on this blog entry for days, but keep getting distracted (look, something shiny!) - I'm still in "full plate" mode, feeling as if I'm doing lots of things poorly.

However, one thing I *do* excel at is The Power of Positive Thinking - when a friend sent me the above video, I knew it was the jumping-off place for a future post (and here we are) - wish I had the time/energy to add more of my own words... but I'll just ask you to read between the lines... :-)

P.S. SMM here, here, here, here and here...

SONG: Shiny Happy People by R.E.M.

BOOK: Happy for No Reason: 7 Steps to Being Happy from the Inside Out by Marci Shimoff

POEM: The Guest House by Rumi

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

QUOTE(S): " A happy person is not a person in a certain set of circumstances, but rather a person with a certain set of attitudes." ~ Hugh Downs

"I have found that if you love life, life will love you back." ~ Arthur Rubinstein

"It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily. "So it is." "And freezing." "Is it?" "Yes," said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening up a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately." ~ A.A. Milne

Diamonds and Rust (Joan Baez)

Joan Baez: 50 years of music to move you
Folk singer-activist discusses new hope, new songs, new film
By Chris Boeckmann
Sunday, March 1, 2009

Put simply, Joan Baez is a legend. She might hate the title, she might think she doesn’t live up to it, but it’s true. Baez helped bring folk — female folk music especially — to the mainstream, and along the way, she was courageous enough to stand up for a number of noble causes.

Early in her career, she stood next to Martin Luther King Jr. Later on, she did the same with farm workers, supporters of Harvey Milk and environmental activists.

Musically, she is known as a master interpreter and gifted songwriter. Now at age 68, she is in her 50th year as a musician, and she’s touring the country. On March 16, Baez comes to the Missouri Theatre Center for the Arts.

She says she’ll play a mixture of songs from all points of her long, busy career. The Tribune talked to Baez on the phone early this week; Baez was in Austin, Texas, at the time.

Tribune: Before I started doing more research, I had pegged you as an optimist. Do you come across that a lot?

Baez: I come across it, but I’ve never been an optimist. (She laughs.) I think human nature would show otherwise. Being a non-optimist has never really interfered with the things I do. I see hope here and there, and I’ve seen human behavior do some pretty wonderful things.

Tribune: You talk about your lack of optimism in an article from The Guardian; that article is from 2006, in the middle of the Bush presidency. Now President Barack Obama, whom you openly supported, is in office. Are you any more optimistic now?

Baez: Obviously, there’s been a sea change. There’s been a huge atmospheric change for everybody in the world, so yeah, I certainly buy the word “hopeful” in a way that I never have in the past, except perhaps when I worked with Dr. King and when I’ve worked on smaller projects when the word “hope” was in accordance with the size of the project.

Tribune: Why do you play music?

Baez: I guess because I can. I guess at age 13, somebody handed me a ukulele, and I discovered I could make tunes on it and sing to it, and within a year, I developed sort of a distinct sound, y’know, for a kid, and I liked it. It provided something interesting for me in a situation I was not very happy in, which was school. So I began to spend more and more time with my little ukulele, and my voice developed, I didn’t ever have plans for anything, but I moved in that direction because I liked it.

Tribune: What about today? Why do you still play?

Baez: I think that when my voice begins to really stop functioning properly, that will be the time for me to stop singing. But the fact is that over these years, luckily the voice has held up because really as the years go by I enjoy it more and more. When I was younger, I was so fraught with problems and age fright and feeling I had to be more than I was and carrying the world on my shoulders — everything that could interfere with you having a wonderful time on the stage was there. And now due to the years and due to a lot of therapy, it’s really not there anymore, so I can sing and have wonderful music and travel on a bus that I love. It makes up for a lot of difficulties I had earlier.

Tribune: For you, what sort of differences are there between touring, say, 40 years ago and today?

Baez: Well, I used to run through the airport with my guitar 50 years ago and catch planes. I was all alone, I didn’t know what a tour manager was. I had a sort of semblance of a manager, but we had no contract, and I was flying, so that was a miserable experience (laughing). But eventually I had musicians playing with me, eventually I traveled in a bus, and it was all a really long process. Now we have no maintenance, we have the right musicians and the right manager and the right driver. It’s just a completely different situation.

Tribune: How do you choose songs to interpret?

Baez: I just choose a song that’s usually how I think and feel and hear. Sometimes it’s a song I don’t even understand. I’ve never really understood why I pick songs. I’m sure there are very different reasons, some of them are obvious right off, like the song “Day After Tomorrow,” which has so many things that remind me of me. And sometimes there are songs that are beautiful that I know aren’t for me; it’s been that way my whole life.

Tribune: Do you listen to much new music?

Baez: I don’t keep up with new music, I’m sure of that. When most people grow up, they turn into horrible parents and they say, “Ugh, what’s that you’re listening to?” to their kids, and I’m probably in that same category, except my kid plays African music. And he plays very, very current West African music, so in that sense, I’m very current in some kinds of music. But what I listen to? It completely varies. I’ve looked at my iPod, and what I’ve been listening to for the past month is either opera or Willie Nelson. (She laughs.)

Tribune: When this article comes out, we’ll be celebrating our city’s documentary film festival. I know you’ve shown support for Michael Moore and appeared in multiple documentaries. Do you watch many?

Baez: I’m in the process of making my own. I’m in my 50th year, and I’m sure that’s why we’re doing it. Rather than having talking heads, half of the interviews are just conversations with me and different people — like my ex-husband about the draft in the military, like the president of the Czech Republic because I knew him before the revolution. Let’s see, Jackson Browne is great, just sitting and talking, Dar Williams sitting and talking — and she wonderful, y’know, she’s funny and fun. And my father was a camera buff when he was quite young, so we have extraordinary footage of stuff that either he took or he handed the camera to somebody. There’s footage of him and my mom coming out of a church right after getting married. So it’s really rich with material.

Tribune: So what stage are you at?

Baez: I think we’ll have more footage of comments and maybe a couple more interviews. But we’re just about through, and it should be out in the fall.

Tribune: Wow, cool. Are you going to aim for festivals?

Baez: Yes, I think I’ll be at festivals.

Tribune: Are there any particular films that inspired this one?

Baez: No, not really, just my life.

Tribune: Besides the documentary and touring, what other plans do you have for the near future?

Baez: Spending a lot of time with my family. I didn’t spend enough time with them in the ’60s and ’70s. My mom is 95, and my granddaughter is 5. They’re a big part of my schedule.

Tribune: So I’m guessing you spend a lot of time on the phone?

Baez: Talk a lot about them in the show?

Tribune: No, talk to them on the phone, while you’re on tour.

Baez: I’m not hearing you again.

Tribune: Oh, I was just saying that when you’re on the road, you probably spend a lot of time talking on the phone.

Baez: (Laughter) Yeah, I do. Right now my son is with me. He plays percussion.

Tribune: I’ve read some very positive reviews. It looks like the tour is going well.

Baez: Oh, really, really well. We just love it. It’s just so simple. These musicians are just top, top quality, and we really care for each other a lot, so all the way around it’s a pretty wonderful experience.

Tribune: What kind of crowd do you draw?

Baez: It varies from show to show, from country to country. In Europe they’re much younger. Here there are some younger, but the majority are my age or somewhat younger. But over these past 10 years, there have been more younger people.

Tribune: Do you think folk will continue to thrive?

Baez: Yeah, I do. It’s sort of a goofy phenomenon that I’m here in the first place after 50 years — what’s even goofier is that they are.

Chris Boeckmann is a freelance music reporter. He can be reached at chrisboeckmann@gmail.com

Make sure you watch/listen to the YouTube post all the way to the end - the last lyric of the song when first written was "and if you're offering me diamonds and rust ...I've already paid"... which segued over the years to "...I'll take the diamonds" which is now "...I'll take the Grammy" (ha!).

I've always been a Joan Baez fan... and I credit her for "introducing" me to Dar Williams, whose You're Aging Well I first heard on Joan's 1995 Ring Them Bells CD... and was instantly captivated, needing to know more - and the rest, as they say, is herstory. I love Joan's covers of Dar, as well as Richard Shindell and Dave Carter, her activism and her ability to age gracefully - to paraphrase Gloria Steinem, this is what 68 looks like... :-)

Thanks to sharon for her heads-up post to the Dar-list about the Baez article!

P.S. SMM here and here...

SONG: Diamonds and Rust by Joan Baez

BOOK: And a Voice to Sing With: A Memoir by Joan Baez

POEM: For What Binds Us by Jane Hirschfield

There are names for what binds us:

strong forces, weak forces.

Look around, you can see them:

the skin that forms in a half-empty cup,

nails rusting into the places they join,

joints dovetailed on their own weight.

The way things stay so solidly

wherever they've been set down --

and gravity, scientists say, is weak.

And see how the flesh grows back

across a wound, with a great vehemence,

more strong

than the simple, untested surface before.

There's a name for it on horses, when it comes back darker and raised:

proud flesh,

as all flesh

is proud of its wounds, wears them

as honors given out after battle,

small triumphs pinned to the chest --

And when two people have loved each other

see how it is like a

scar between their bodies,

stronger, darker, and proud;

how the black cord makes of them a single fabric

that nothing can tear or mend.

QUOTE(S): "Action is the antidote to despair." ~ Joan Baez

"It seems to me that those songs that have been any good, I have nothing much to do with the writing of them. The words have just crawled down my sleeve and come out on the page." ~ Joan Baez