Why (Annie Lennox)

No additional nor explanatory words from me today... but it is indeed Feel Good Friday, and I have some wonderful links to share.  As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

~ Silver Linings:  The pandemic obliged—or enabled—many women to go gray. They’re still reckoning with the transformation.

~ Every song of the summer from the past 45 years:  Every year, there's a battle to see which song can claim the title of "the song of the summer."...  The jury is still out on which song will be this year's biggest hit, but we used Billboard's charts to choose the highest-ranking summer song for each year.  Whether or not you agree with the top song, here are the No. 1 summer songs from 1975 to 2020.


~ Victoria's Secret is overhauling its image. Is it enough to regain relevance?  Less than two years after Victoria's Secret pulled the plug on its star-studded annual fashion show, known for runway looks that combined strappy lingerie with enormous wings, the brand is retiring its supermodel "Angels" for good.

~ Summer reading: the 50 hottest new books everyone should read:  From missing lighthouse keepers to the healing power of trees ... 50 new fiction and nonfiction books to enjoy. Plus recent paperbacks to pack and the best children’s stories (thanks to SandyA for the heads-up!)

~ Why Won’t Anyone Help Me in This Sex Shop?  At 83, and legally blind, I could use some assistance.

SONG:  Why by Annie Lennox

BOOK:  Little Kids First Big Book of Why by Amy Shields

POEM:  Why by Robert Funge

You could call me obsessed

or a fool. There’s no future

turning your insides out

arranging words until they’re

comfortable with each other.

And the pay! Just this morning

a check arrived in the mail

for fifteen dollars, for a poem

it took forty years to write.

Standing on the corner

looking hungry and tired, the

Veteran of a Thousand Wars

does better on a bad day.

I show you

how I feel inside, how my daughter

whores for drug money, and my son

ransoms his future for a soul.

I tell you how my father

forgot my name, and my mother

went to the electric table

to have her mind rearranged.

I tell you how I prayed for grace

and was given pain, to show

that all prayers are answered.

I’ve shown you how I died

three times, yet here I am,

Lazarus and Buddha, my

victim and savior. All this

for fifteen dollars and a year’s

subscription. If I didn’t have a job

at the factory, sweeping floors

on the graveyard shift …

And I’ve shown

where I buried myself, covered

my walls with books and paintings,

how I talk to them and they say

This is what you’ve always wanted.

I am my prisoner and my warden.

I tell you how a passing image

makes me rise, and how love

leaves me cold. I sleep alone

in a king-size bed

and spill myself. I confess

in public. I publish my shame.

I don’t judge anymore.

I’ve forgotten how to pray, unless

this is a prayer.

And now I arrange my life

in code, knowing you decipher

more than I show.

They can keep

their fifteen dollars. They insult me!

All I want from life

is sainthood and some poems

that will last. I lied early:

the future is all there is. My gift

is my present to myself, this day’s

condensation of memory.

It saves my life.

[Robert Funge: “I live alone in a library. I’m retired and busier than ever. I write poems to make sense of the past, and because it’s fun. Always both. These poems reflect his life, his imagination and his idiocrasy.”]

QUOTE:  "The more often we see the things around us - even the beautiful and wonderful things - the more they become invisible to us. That is why we often take for granted the beauty of this world: the flowers, the trees, the birds, the clouds - even those we love. Because we see things so often, we see them less and less." ~ Joseph B. Wirthlin

Just Like That (Rachel Bissex)

[me, Dar, Reba:  Road Trip to St. Augustine for Dar's March 12, 2020 concert... the day before the world locked down for COVID]

R.I.P. dear friend; I found out about her passing from a post to the sf_folk list a week ago tonight.  The news hit me hard, and I continue to grieve as well as be comforted by the memories.  It is hard to imagine a world without Reba Heyman.  I remembered writing the following to a friend in late-August 2020 and, rather than reinvent the wheel, decided to copy and paste here:

"Before I get in the bath, I wanted to give you some backstory about Reba, and what I was doing today.

I first met Vic and Reba Heyman at the Albuquerque Folk Alliance in February 1999 (my first national conference, if you recall).  Vic and Reba were/are folk royalty.  Based out of Rockville Maryland, they have been on the folk scene for decades, financing many artists' CDs, not to mention careers.  

They are long-time fans of Dar Williams and, when Rachel Bissex passed away in February 2015, they did a tribute double-CD set, and Dar (and Patty Larkin) covered the song Rachel wrote about Vic and Reba, Just Like That.  Confused yet?

So, back to the Folk Alliance.  I crossed paths with Vic and Reba a handful of times; they always had reserved seats on the front row in all of the main showcase rooms.  When I came into one of the rooms, which was full, Reba patted the seat next to her, motioned me over, and said, "Vic is napping.  Please join me!"... and it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

They started coming down for the South Florida Folk Festival each January, staying for a long weekend... and then a few weeks... and then a month... until they finally became snowbirds, arriving early-December and leaving late-March.  Vic passed away of Parkinson's Disease in January 2009, while they were still in Florida; he was in a coma a few weeks before he died, and I sat vigil with Reba a few times to keep her company, bringing sandwiches and mandarin oranges, or grapes, because I knew she wasn't leaving the room to eat.

The singer-songwriter Joel Raphael sent Reba a peace lily plant in condolence and, when she was headed back north for the spring, she asked if I would take care of it in her absence... and of course I said yes.  It is with honor as well as trepidation to have co-custody, in that, god forbid anything happens to it on my watch.  I've always sworn to myself that I would just go to the nursery, find a "color match", and no one else would be the wiser.  Thank goodness my theory has not been tested.

Reba is game for road trips, and has been my road buddy all the way to St. Augustine (twice) to see Richard Shindell and Dar Williams (stories for another time).  When she is in town, we do lunch regularly (at least we did, pre-pandemic), and concerts, and dinners with friends.  She turned 83 in March (2020).

She was in Florida when the coronavirus hit, and I checked in with her a few times a week, and asked her to send me her grocery list weekly, so that I could order via Instacart and then deliver to Plantation (about 25 minutes north), sitting on her patio and visiting a while after she put her perishables away.  She was grateful and I was glad to do it, thinking that, if my Mom were still alive, I would love to envision someone doing it for her.  She is fun, and funny, and good company, and often tells the same story, but 80% of the time I let her, and the other 20%, I say, "I love that story!".

Reba decided to go back to Maryland in early-July, one of the main reasons being that she was terrified to be here for hurricane season.  She hadn't been home more than two weeks when she slipped and fell on her stairs, breaking her shoulder, ending up in the hospital (thankfully no surgery required), then to a relative's home, then back to her house with around-the-clock home health aides.  Now her daughter Judy, who lives in San Francisco, has asked Reba to come stay with her (not sure if temporary or permanent), and she'll be flying out September 8.

All this to say (whew!), Reba is giving up her apartment in Florida, and has asked me and Dave to be in charge of sending clothes and special artwork to Judy's... and then distributing the remainder of dishes, glassware, CDs, furniture, lamps, etc. as we see fit... and today was Phase I.  We were super-productive, and we're going back tomorrow.  Yes, it's a lot of work... but it's Reba.

And that's why I'm taking a bath... :-) "

There is more to the story, but I just don't have the heart or the energy to finish it now.  Although I intuited from recent interactions that she was declining, Reba's death was unexpected, sudden, and heartbreaking.  I am inconsolable... and now I have full custody of the peace lily... ☮⚘

SONG:  Just Like That by Rachel Bissex (Rachel wrote this song about Vic and Reba... and Dar Williams covered it on Remembering Rachel, a tribute put together after Rachel's death, which Vic produced/assembled/publicized)... 💕

BOOK:  Notes on Grief by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

POEM:  While I Wait by Brooke James

At the sidewalk café

a white-haired man

asks for coffee, hot,

cream, no sugar.

His daughter touches his sleeve

and points—the cranberry scones 

in the glass case—

your favorite, remember?

His granddaughter splashes

in the ceramic dog bowl 

brimming with cool water 

on the porch step

where I sit shielding my eyes 

from the sun with a menu,

the salmon pink impatiens

in the clay pots tremble 

when a concrete mixer rumbles by,

spinning its vanilla and orange striped drum.

Look, I whisper to the little girl,

a swirled ice cream cone on wheels. 

Late August drifts by,

settles on my sun-warmed knees.

A friend of mine died 

last week, I say to no one

as I wait for you to cross the street,

waving as you come.

[Brooke James: “The poems that really stay with me are the ones in which the big and small moments of life intermingle. This is what I attempted to achieve with ‘While I Wait’: a late summer afternoon in a sidewalk café, made memorable by salmon pink petunias, the death of a friend, cool water in a dog bowl, and you crossing the street to meet me, your hand outstretched in greeting.”]

QUOTE:  "The meaning of life is to give and receive love.  Everything else is just the stage to do this on." ~ Sheryl Cattell

No Regrets (Friction Farm)

Good morning!  Has it really been two weeks since I last posted?  WTF?!?  It seems to have been a combination of reasons:  due to increased vaccinations (50% now!), things are opening up, which means there are more in-person get-togethers, which means I am out of the house more and not sitting at the laptop as much... also, my mood/attitude is good, but nothing has really jumped out to inspire me, meaning I've had to go mining for a a great song or poem, as opposed to the ones that usually throw themselves in my path, begging "Pick me!  Pick me!".

I'm staying busy... moving more, worrying less, sleeping well, eating healthy, still reading like a MF, addicted to The Handmaid's Tale (I read the book a bazillion years ago, and am so impressed with the Hulu adaptation!), regular phone chats with family and friends, obsessed with watermelon chunks as my late-night snack (ha ha!).

Still watching Jeopardy religiously (last week and this are the Tournament of Champions) and, I'm not going to lie, very glad that the cocky *sshole of quarterfinals fame ("for the kill"?  really?) lost Tuesday night in the semi-finals.  I know that's not very kind; oh f*cking well.

Redeemed my Mother's Day "coupon" with Sarah this past Sunday at Marando Farms; we had a lovely breakfast/brunch at their Twisted Tomato Cafe (their veggie hash is divine!), and then walked the petting zoo with Colin (I used to think goats were cute, but now I believe they're just annoying... 😲 )

Last week and this were: Karen's healing hands massage, taking a friend to a doctor's appointment, a few library pick-ups, my OverReaders Anonymous book club,  Pool Days with Nancy, Zooms with Nancy and Judi, a livestream with Tracy Grammer and Jim Henry (theme was animals), a few pick-ups of Colin from preschool.  Lunch with my son Rob today (since reading Crying in H Mart, I've been craving Korean food), then headed up to my former UU church for a memorial service (tragic series of events).

 

In the meantime, it is indeed Feel Good Friday.  As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

~ Eric Carle, Author of ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar,’ Dies at 91:  A self-described “picture writer,” he wrote and illustrated more than 70 books for young children, selling more than 170 million copies.

~ ‘Dear Evan Hansen’: Watch the First Trailer for the Ben Platt Musical Movie:  Universal has released the first trailer for the “Dear Evan Hansen” movie, premiering in theaters on Sept. 24.  Ben Platt returns in his Tony-winning titular role in the big-screen adaptation of the Broadway musical hit created by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul.

~ What’s Your Rose, Thorn and Bud?:  This past year, as we’ve had sooooo many dinners as a family, we have started the age-old tradition of rose, thorn, bud. Want to play it? Here’s how it works…  Basically, everyone goes around and shares a rose (a positive thing that happened that day), a thorn (a negative thing that happened that day) and a bud (something they’re looking forward to).

~ Louvre Gets Its First Female Leader in 228 Years:  Laurence des Cars, who will become the president of the world’s most visited museum in September, shares some of her plans in an interview.

~ Spotify Playlist for Daisy Jones & The Six (a novel by Taylor Jenkins Reid): randomhousebooks, 26 songs, 1 hour 47 minutes

NR:  Take a Hint, Dani Brown by Talia Hibbert (god help me, this is my third romance novel in as many months.  Who am I, and what have I done with Susan?!?  However, how can one resist this bio?... 💖

"Talia Hibbert is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author who lives in a bedroom full of books. Supposedly, there is a world beyond that room, but she has yet to drum up enough interest to investigate.  She writes steamy, diverse romance because she believes that people of marginalised identities need honest and positive representation. Her interests include makeup, junk food, and unnecessary sarcasm."

SONG:  No Regrets by Friction Farm (scroll 1/3 down to album cover of Evidence of Hope, click on album cover, click on arrow to navigate to track 8)

BOOK:  No Regrets Living: 7 Keys to a Life of Wonder and Contentment by Harley A. Rotbart MD

POEM:  Mad Farmer VIII by Wendell Berry

When I rise up

let me rise up joyful

like a bird.

When I fall

let me fall without regret

like a leaf.

QUOTE:  “Let go of who you thought you’d become.  Let go of the need to control.  Let go of the expectations that society has burdened you with.  Let go of disappointments, missed opportunities, and broken hearts.  Because only by letting go will you discover who you are becoming.” ~ Justin Shiels

Coming Alive Again (David LaMotte)

[So weird!  I went to upload this post last night about 8 p.m. and received an e-mail from Blogger; here's a snippet:

As you may know, our Community Guidelines describe the boundaries for what we allow-- and don't allow-- on Blogger. Your post titled "Coming Alive Again 

(David LaMotte)" was flagged to us for review. We have determined that it 

violates our guidelines and deleted the post, previously at 

http://optimisticvoices.blogspot.com/2021/05/coming-alive-again-david-lamotte.html. Your content has violated our Malware and Viruses policy. Please visit our Community Guidelines page linked in this email to learn more.

I completely freaked out, tried to recover it, thought about attempting to re-create it but it was late and I was tired, and then gave up in defeat, shutting down my computer completely, and vowing to solve/resolve in the morning.

Woke up today to this:

We have re-evaluated the post titled "Coming Alive Again (David 

LaMotte)" against Community Guidelines. Upon review, the post has been 

reinstated. You may access the post at 

http://optimisticvoices.blogspot.com/2021/05/coming-alive-again-david-lamotte.html.

What?!?  Whatever!  Thanks to Blogger for re-evaluating as well as validating that I made the right choice by not spending time troubleshooting last night, and for believing in the system such that it all eventually and easily came together (although I certainly didn't sleep well as a result).  First World Problems, right?  Happy Saturday... 💖 ]

Another full week:  weekly Zoom with Nancy and Judi, picked up sweet Colin from preschool and got to hang out for a while, three-hour (!) phone chat with dear college roomie Linda, belated-but-no-less-enjoyable Mother's Day dinner with Rob and Eric, pool with Nance, and this evening a Virtual LitLIVE! event with authors Kaitlyn Greenidge and Kirstin Valdez Quade.  Dinner and a movie in a few minutes:  Mixed root vegetable fries (carrot, parsnip, beetroot) and The Woman in the Window on Netflix.  Ooooh, it's a wild night in the Moss household... 😉

A few things on tap for the weekend, and we shall see how it all unfolds.  In the meantime, it is indeed Feel Good Friday.  As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

~ The Other Side of Languishing Is Flourishing. Here’s How to Get There:  Research shows that the pandemic took a toll on our overall well-being and left many of us drained. Here are seven simple steps to get you thriving again.


~ The Lure of H Mart, Where the Shelves Can Seem as Wide as Asia:  The huge grocery chain and other megastores like it have revolutionized the way many Asian-Americans shop and eat.


~ Colson Whitehead's Pulitzer Prize Winning Novel, The Underground Railroad on Amazon Prime:  From Academy Award® winner Barry Jenkins and based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by Colson Whitehead, "The Underground Railroad" is a new series that chronicles Cora Randall’s desperate bid for freedom in the Antebellum South. After escaping a Georgia plantation for the rumored Underground Railroad, Cora discovers no mere metaphor, but an actual railroad beneath the Southern soil.

~ Welcome to Life Lessons:  This week, we revisit some admittedly out of context highlights from two interviews with singer-songwriter Joni Mitchell, the original Lady of the Canyon: first in August 1985, then in April 1991. Sit down, pull out your acoustic guitar—you just might learn a thing or two. 


~ Do We Even Know How To Socialize Anymore?  Zoom meetings. Virtual happy hours. Facetime dates. We've been living in a pandemic world for over a year now, and for better or worse, many of us are used to our new social routines.  But as vaccinations ramp up and restrictions begin to loosen across the country, the new question is: Are we ready? After so much time apart, do we even know how to socialize in person anymore?

NR:  Crying in H Mart: A Memoir by Michelle Zauner

SONG:  Coming Alive Again by David LaMotte

BOOK:  88+ Ways Music Can Change Your Life by Vincent James, Joann Pierdomenico, Jack Canfield (Foreword)

POEM(S):  To Be Alive by Gregory Orr

To be alive: not just the carcass

But the spark.

That's crudely put, but ...

If we're not supposed to dance,

Why all this music?

Say it With a Mix-Tape by Christopher Goodrich

These are the professionals. The ones who know

why birds suddenly appear every time you are near;

the self-assured idols who can ask Do you

want to know a secret oooooo waaaa oooooo?

without sounding stupid. I’ve begged

them to tell us why secrets are

given as gifts in obvious packaging.

So much of falling is sitting still, filling

a blank tape with voices of famous people—

the mystic warbling of Joni Mitchell,

the simple sex of Simon and Garfunkel.

This is what it sounds like to be me in love with you.

And because only Ray Charles, who sings from both sides now,

can translate my heart’s handwriting, I’ve included

two of his numbers, see side A, songs two and nine.

He will insist, as many times as you care to listen:

I’m gonna love you like nobody’s loved you come rain

or come shine, which, incidentally, is true, I’m gonna.

The Mix-Tape: proof that love loves James Brown, the reason

we turn to Nina Simone when sex fails to fulfill us,

why, when harmony is what is missing,

a light rhythmic rain begins to fall.

QUOTE:  "You must always believe that life is as extraordinary as music says it is." ~ Rebecca West

Rebel Girl (Bikini Kill)

[One-of-a-kind hand-stitched embroidery works by Amy Tingle, with a line of one of Maya Stein's 10-line Tuesday poems touching on motherhood.]

Today was one of the best Mother's Days I've had in quite a while although, truthfully, they're all pretty amazing, especially since my daughter Sarah has become a mom; I get immense pleasure seeing her in action, parenting Colin with such patience as well as joy.  He is so much like her, and she is so much like me, and I am so much like my mom.  The nut definitely does not fall far from the tree.

Both my sons are in the restaurant business so, since it's one of their busiest holidays, they were of course unable to join us (and we will celebrate another time), but we invited Sarah and Colin over for a Pool Day, and I ordered in advance the Mimosa Starter Kit/Mother's Day Brunch Box from Einstein Bagels (no muss, no fuss, no bother), which my husband picked up:

Lest you worry about my dietary/nutritional choices, I had vegan cream cheese, sprinkled with Everything But the Bagel seasoning, topped with vegan smoked salmon (yes, there is such a thing!), and felt completely satisfied!

Long-story-short is that Colin is obsessed with wild animals, and I gave him a wildebeest figurine this morning, and he had more fun teasing us all:  "Is it a warthog?  Noooooo, it's a wildebeest!" he said, multiple times, with a twinkle in his eye.  Hilarious!

I gave Sarah a few items related to Schitt's Creek (which she and Rob got me watching a few months ago):  a Fold In the Cheese dishtowel, a sideways S necklace (like Alexis' A), and an Ew David tank top, which was running late and naturally arrived after they'd left.

Her present to me was promise of brunch/lunch at a new local farmer's market, with lots of vegan options, maybe even this next weekend.  My husband gave me a giftcard to Chico's (one of my favorite clothing stores, which I haven't stepped foot in in over a year), and will enjoy redeeming.

Yesterday afternoon I decided to watch Moxie on Netflix and, halfway through, texted everybody I know to encourage them to view it as well.  Excellent film, which reminded me of my younger protesting days (as opposed to my older protesting days, ha!), and also my friend M's daughter K (my son Rob's age), who used to publish a 'zine in high school, to which I subscribed.  Today's blog post song came from the movie, which reminded me that, although I've certainly made my share of mistakes in life, if there's one thing I can say with absolutely certainty, it's that I have always been and continue to be a good mom.  I take great pride in knowing that I have instilled in my children all the important values:  thoughtfulness, compassion, generosity, kindness, integrity, the importance of equality and social justice (and working toward it), passion, a love of music and language/books, creativity, and a great sense of humor.  [S]he who laughs, lasts... 😄

SONG:  Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill ("That girl, she holds her head up so high, I think I wanna be her best friend, yeah")

BOOK:  Motherhood: Facing and Finding Yourself by Lisa Marchiano

POEM(S):  What Children Say by Kate Baer

I can’t reach my cup, my water bottle,

the snack up on the shelf. I can’t do

it. I won’t do it. I would never do it

in a million years. You need to help

me. Help me faster. Do it the way

I asked you to. I don’t like pizza or

watermelon. I don’t like anything I

liked before. I do not want it. I do

not need it. I will never move up off

this floor. Do not help me. Do not

hold me. Do not sit down beside my

bed. I’m not sleeping. I’m not tired.

I’m too scared to fall asleep. You must

hold me. You must rock me. Do not

leave me all alone. I am thirsty. I am

hungry. I am too tired to put my toys

away. Do not be angry. Do not start

singing. Where is the butterfly I drew?

I’m still hungry. I’m still playing. Will

you leave me? Will you stay?

What Mothers Say by Kate Baer

I am tired. I am sleeping. I am heading

up to bed. Is it Tuesday? What’s tomorrow?

When’s the last I slept alone?

I am thinking. I am talking. Do you see

I’m on the phone? Bring the dishes, find

your blanket, put that book back on the

shelf. It is bedtime. It is rest time. You

need to go and brush again. I am working.

I am eating. This is why we bought you

toys. Go and play now, find your brother,

find elsewhere to make your ship. I am

angry, you’re not listening. Please stop

crying on the floor. It’s a school night.

Do your homework. Let me come and

scratch your back. I am listening. I can

hear you. Thanks for telling me the

truth. Let me closer, let me help you.

I am here now. Let me stay.

Stronger That You Know by Kate Baer

My friend’s young daughter tells her mother:

you’re stronger that you know.

We repeat this, even though it doesn’t make

sense. We say it to cheer each other up. We

say it, knowing how much harder it is: that vs.

than. One suggests it was always inside you.

The other suggests it’s better you’ve learned

the coin can flip either way.

We tell our daughters they can be anything.

We call them warrior, fierce, and brave

as if they arrive in war paint and heels

to fight off our old demons.

And when they suffer, which they do

we offer our consolations:

This is a part of it.

Take a deep breath.

Look at you kicking your legs.

Moon Song by Kate Baer

You are not an evergreen unchanged 

by the pitiless snow. You are not a photo, 

a brand, a character written for sex or 

house or show. You do not have to choose 

one or the other: a dream or a dreamer, the 

bird or the birder. You may be a woman of 

commotion and quiet. Magic and brain.

You can be a mother and a poet. A wife and 

a lover. You can dance on the graves you dug 

on Tuesday, pulling out the bones of yourself 

you began to miss. You can be the sun and the 

moon, the dance a victory song.

QUOTE:  "When a mother somewhere forgives herself for being human, earth exhales a little." ~ Breeze

Work Hard and Be Nice (Michael Franti & Spearhead)

Other than a pesky crick in the left side of my neck (caused by a two-hour phone conversation with a dear friend; still worth it!), which turned really painful, causing me to spend most of the last few days in a regimen of a handheld massager/Aleve/Cryoderm/heating pad, a super-hot Epsom salts bath, and a visit to Massage Envy... it's been a good week.  Hung out with Brian for three hours in the park, sat with DonnaG's kids while she attended a tele-appointment, Zoom with Nancy and Judi, an authors-who-also-own-bookstores livestream, Pool Day with Nancy, and just wrapped up an Ellis Paul music event celebrating songs inspired by books.

Sunday is Mother's Day so, if possible, check in with the woman who physically brought you into this world, as well as the special people in your life who tend and nurture you.  I miss my Mom every day, and wish I could call and/or visit her (she passed in July 2009), but I do have plans to get together with my daughter and her kiddo, which I am very much looking forward to; a gathering with my sons will have to wait for another time, since they are both in the restaurant business, which is historically crazy on this holiday!  More on those events later... 💓

It is indeed Feel Good Friday.  As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

~ Brie Larson Pivoted to Video:  The Oscar-winning actress has found therapeutic refuge on YouTube.


~ Side Effects of Walking Just 10 Minutes Per Day, Says Science:  Here's how taking brief but brisk walks can help your focus, self-confidence, and lifespan.


~ James Taylor - Remembering 1970: BBC and Joni's Jag:  Topics include: travels to London in the same year that he released album "Sweet Baby James", playing at the London Palladium, Lenny Bruce, driving cross-country with @Joni Mitchell​, bunking with Warren Oates, Two-Lane Blacktop, visiting the Hopi Indian reservation--even dancing with snakes! James also solves the BBC "In Concert" mystery: "who knitted that green sweater"?! Test your JT trivia chops!


~ Inside the ‘Jeopardy!’ Guest Host Rotation:  This season’s experiment with a carousel of fresh faces has forced the stalwart quiz show—and its contestants—to rethink much of what they know about ‘Jeopardy!’


~ Where Are All the Bob Ross Paintings? We Found Them:  Bob Ross painted more than 1,000 landscapes for his television show — so why are they so hard to find? We solve one of the internet’s favorite little mysteries.

NR:  Sarah's Key by by Tatiana de Rosnay

SONG:  Work Hard and Be Nice by Michael Franti & Spearhead

BOOK:  Deep Kindness: A Revolutionary Guide for the Way We Think, Talk, and Act in Kindness by Houston Kraft

POEM:  The world you see is just a movie in your mind by Jack Kerouac

The world you see is just a movie in your mind.

Rocks don't see it.

Bless and sit down.

Forgive and forget.

Practice kindness all day to everybody

and you will realize you’re already

in heaven now.

That’s the story.

That’s the message.

Nobody understands it,

nobody listens, they’re

all running around like chickens with heads cut

off. I will try to teach it but it will

be in vain, s’why I’ll

end up in a shack

praying and being

cool and singing

by my woodstove

making pancakes.

QUOTE:  “There are three ways to ultimate success:  The first way is to be kind.  The second way is to be kind.  The third way is to be kind.” ~ Fred Rogers

Your Smiling Face (Jennings & Keller)

I just posted the following to our sf_folk list and, rather than reinvent the wheel, I'm reprising it here:

A Bazillion Thanks to Dave Cambest for being the first to put together a backyard house concert that more than satisfied two of the things I've most missed these last 14 months:  live music and hugs... :-)

Who better to "break the pandemic" (as someone tonight said) than local treasures Jennings & Keller (Laurie and Dana)?  So many tears (of joy) and an equal number of smiles (of ecstasy, familiarity, comfort, serenity, gratitude, grace (as Laurie reminded us many times) and, most especially, love... for the music, for each other, for the idea of being that much closer to whatever "normal" looks like on the other side of COVID.

All of us in the audience had been vaccinated, and the emotion was palpable... friends greeting friends after a too-long absence.  Many of J&K's songs spoke to that, from their opening cover of Richard Thompson's Keep Your Distance to their closing song of Robert Vincent's The Ending... to so many new originals we were treated to (Like No Other, Your Smiling Face, High School Play) to some old favorites (Hold Fast the Wheel, Your Heart Holds the Truth) to The Byrds' Tulsa County and Joni's Little Green.  Laurie's voice was as gorgeous as ever, and Dana's dobro was, to transpose a cliche, a sound for sore ears... 💖

Laurie thanked the audience for being there, and we reciprocated by applauding warmly and enthusiastically, an energy most performers have greatly missed during this strange time.  The evening was a magical and soul-filling watershed, as those who were there can attest.  Here's/cheers to the first of many safe, loving gatherings, musical and otherwise... <3

SONG:  Your Smiling Face by Jennings & Keller [flip side/bonus song:  Wear a Mask, a Beauty and The Beast parody... 😄 ]

BOOK:  Smiling From Ear to Ear: Wearing Masks While Having Fun by Kaitlyn Chu

POEM:  Relic by Russell Brakefield

years from now I dislodge a mask

kneeling in a gas station parking lot

to suck crumbs from the consoles

half in and half out the passenger seat

I dislodge a mask from the floormat

flattened and streaked, folded on itself

like a wounded bird but still

retaining its feather-blue tint

ear straps flung aside like broken wings

its sunken breast smudged

where I once pressed my mouth

the downy screen through which

I filtered my life, where my words were

wrung out and carried off as on a soft wind

a dirty plume that held prayers

and songs and desperate transactions

where I said even I love you

in a muffled tone, where I said even

I’m home! standing in the doorway

forgetting, for a brief moment, which

were the safer parts of the world

[Russell Brakefield: “As we encounter positive news about vaccines and look forward to a new administration’s response to the pandemic, I’ve been turning my mind to a post-Covid world, thinking about how we will live and interact with this time in history in the years to come.”]

Fatigue by Jill Kandel

I’m on the Day with No

Groceries day of the two-week cycle

which means I’m off to buy veggies and

you’d think I’d be used to my long-mandated mask

which makes it hard for me to understand what others

are saying and also sticks to my face as my breath gradually

fogs up my glasses already smeared from putting on and taking off

this, my handsewn slightly crooked mask, all the while trying to retain some semblance

of put-together-ness which went out the window some time ago and belongs

in the land of long forgotten things like hugs and real-life visits

and shared smiles that can actually be seen, dimple

to dimple, but what’s a person supposed to do

except cry, cry for my sweet friend battling

brain cancer and I can’t go visit him, his

systems shrouded in compromise

and Covid

restricting visits even from his

wife—depending on the hospital the clinic

the treatment the day and the hour—from going inside

with him and sitting beside him in his pain and his confusion, his veiled

hope and pallid suffering, and my other friend who just happens to live in the same city,

who placed her mother into a nursing home for people with dementia

the day before the nursing home shut to outside visitors, daughters included,

even daughters of newly admitted mothers who will go on to catch

Covid and die in that brand-new shining facility blanketed

with so much hope just two months earlier,

so even though I want to harangue

and childishly rage

joining in

the chorus of people

on Facebook and Twitter who hate

this politician and that party, smugly promoting

one cover-up or another, the wearing of masks (#MaskUpMN #WearADamnMask)

or not wearing of masks (#IwillNOTComply #NoMaskSelfie) I can’t join

in because it’s not that I’m really angry or mad or feel rant-ish,

it’s that it just keeps going on and on and on and on

into a future that predicts more and longer and still

here tomorrow and into the fall

and even the winter, and

I’m tired,

tired of being heartsore,

tired of listening to my friend

a hospice nurse who can’t hold her dying

patients’ hands and is trying to Zoom into their lives

as if she’s real, as if she’s there when in reality she could be a thousand

miles away, a woman on a screen and some days a screen is just not enough

to wrap around our sorrow and that’s what screams out to me, the grief, the longing,

the loss of what I used to know, the loss of who I used to be, and more

than that, the disappearance of who we used to be, how we

used to walk so carefree, so bold and vibrant

through this our now curtained

and weary world.

[Jill Kandel: “CNN carried a story on September 27 that the US cases have surpassed 7 million, and we can still expect to see an explosion of Covid-19 this fall and winter. I wanted to write beneath the surface of the pandemic, the veneer of daily frustrations, and into the heart of our sorrows.”]

QUOTE:  “Each one of us has lived through some devastation, some loneliness, some weather superstorm or spiritual superstorm, when we look at each other we must say, I understand. I understand how you feel because I have been there myself. We must support each other and empathize with each other because each of us is more alike than we are unalike.” ~ Maya Angelou

Poetry in Motion (Johnny Tillotson)

Sadly, today is the last day of National Poetry Month.  Joyfully, I was able to post almost every day (although there were a few blips along the way).  I urge you to explore more, discover more, enjoy more poetry... whether it's haiku, free verse, sonnets, cinquains, villanelles, sestinas.  Find what you like, and then read more of it. Don't make it a lesson, appreciate it as a pleasure.  Feel free to share one of your favorite poems in the comment section below and, if you wish, give the backstory of how you it came on your radar and why it "speaks" to you... 💓

It is indeed Feel Good Friday.  As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor (all poetry-related) to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

~ Poetry & the Creative Mind 2021:  Celebrating 25 years of National Poetry Month:  We are thrilled to welcome an incredible lineup of readers, including Meryl Streep, Elizabeth Alexander, Lauren Ambrose, John Darnielle, Terrance Hayes, Regina King, Delroy Lindo, Samin Nosrat, Sandra Oh, Jason Reynolds, Sarah Sze, and more. [Watched and listened to this phenomenal program last night, alternately weeping and smiling!]

~ This Is Why You Should Write Poetry, no matter what kind of writer you are:  Poetry is a shortcut from heart to heart.  “The only thing that can save the world is the reclaiming of the awareness of the world. That’s what poetry does.” — Allen Ginsberg

~ Our modern obsession with poetry is only growing:  Outlining the popularity of the Instagram poet:  Given the recent mainstream popularity of poets like Rupi Kaur, it’s no secret that there’s been a poetry revival over the last few years. Poems are no longer only read by aspiring writers, English majors, and souls who find refuge in words. They’re being circulated to the masses.

~ Do You Have a Favorite Poem?:  Her name was Charlotte, and she was part of my mom’s book club. When I complimented her straw hat one afternoon, she invited me over for “tea and a poem.” My mom, of course, made me go. At first, I dreaded it. All my friends were selling Girl Scout cookies, and I was hanging out with Chaaaaarlotte. (573 comments, most of them offering up exquisite poems, many of them new to me... ❤)

~ When the Doctor Prescribes Poetry:  “This crisis affects more or less everyone, and poetry can help us process difficult feelings like loss, sadness, anger, lack of hope.”

SONG:  Poetry in Motion by Johnny Tillotson

BOOK:  Poetry Rx: How 50 Inspiring Poems Can Heal and Bring Joy To Your Life by Norman E. Rosenthal

POEM:  Mugged by Poetry by Dorianne Laux

—for Tony Hoagland who sent me a handmade chapbook made from old postcards called OMIGOD POETRY with a whale breaching off the coast of New Jersey and seven of his favorite poems by various authors typed up, taped on, and tied together with a broken shoelace. 

Reading a good one makes me love the one who wrote it,

as well as the animal or element or planet or person

the poet wrote the poem for. I end up like I always do,

flat on my back like a drunk in the grass, loving the world.

Like right now, I'm reading a poem called "Summer"

by John Ashbery whose poems I never much cared for,

and suddenly, in the dead of winter, "There is that sound

like the wind/Forgetting in the branches that means

something/Nobody can translate..." I fall in love

with that line, can actually hear it (not the line

but the wind) and it's summer again and I forget

I don't like John Ashbery poems. So I light a cigarette

and read another by Zbigniew Herbert, a poet

I've always admired but haven't read enough of, called

"To Marcus Aurelius" that begins "Good night Marcus

put out the light/and shut the book For overhead/is raised

a gold alarm of stars..." First of all I suddenly love

anyone with the name Zbigniew. Second of all I love

anyone who speaks in all sincerity to the dead

and by doing so brings that personage back to life,

plunging a hand through the past to flip off the light.

The astral physics of it just floors me. Third of all

is that "gold alarm of stars..." By now I'm a goner,

and even though I have to get up tomorrow at 6 am

I forge ahead and read "God's Justice" by Anne Carson,

another whose poems I'm not overly fond of

but don't actively disdain. I keep reading one line

over and over, hovering above it like a bird on a wire

spying on the dragonfly with "turquoise dots all down its back

like Lauren Bacall". Like Lauren Bacall!! Well hell,

I could do this all night. I could be in love like this

for the rest of my life, with everything in the expanding

universe and whatever else might be beyond it

that we can't grind a lens big enough to see. I light up

another smoke, maybe the one that will kill me,

and go outside to listen to the moon scalding the iced trees.

What, I ask you, will become of me?

QUOTE(S):  "All my life I have tried to save some part of my time for the inspiration which the poets give." ~ Newton D. Baker

"Then let us ask poetry to portray us as we are, our times, our ways of life. Who but our poets can give these supreme word-pictures to our descendants? How shall these children of our children visualize our era if our poets are silent? Through the cold, factual lines of historians? The limited dimensions of painters, sculptors and musicians? The poet is all and more than these." ~ Marie Bullock

Everything I Need (Melissa Ferrick)

It seems as if I have turned a corner with my attitude as well as my awareness.  Life feels easier than it has in quite a while.  I am eating super-healthy; my relationships are, for the most part, honest and reciprocal; I am taking the time to self-nurture, on many levels.  I was speaking to my daughter Sarah by phone the other day and, when I was filling her in on my day (Goodreads review, blog post upload, starting a new book), she said:  "Mom, you are living your best life!".  "Yes, I am", I replied... 💖

It's been a good week:  celebrated a friend's birthday Monday; Tuesday Zoom with Nancy and Judi, then picked up Colin from preschool; Sarah and Colin came for a pool visit yesterday, as well as lunch with Eric; Pool Day with Nance today, and an online poetry event this evening.  My soul overfloweth... 😍

Lest this all be misconstrued as *perfect*, I do need to exercise more as well as tackle additional items on my To Do List.  I will make it happen!

NR:  Scratched: A Memoir of Perfectionism by Elizabeth Tallent

SONG:  Everything I Need by Melissa Ferrick (thanks and love to AmyW for introducing me to this song a bazillion years ago, when she sent me a mix CD on which it was included... 💓)

BOOK:  Recipes for a Sacred Life: True Stories and a Few Miracles by Rivvy Neshama

POEM:  Happiness (Reconsidered) by Judith Viorst

Happiness

Is a clean bill of health from the doctor,

And the kids shouldn't move back home for

more than a year,

And not being audited, overdrawn, in Wilkes-Barre,

in a lawsuit or in traction.

Happiness

Is falling asleep without Valium,

And having two breasts to put in my brassiere,

And not (yet) needing to get my blood pressure lowered,

my eyelids raised or a second opinion.

And on Saturday nights

When my husband and I have rented

Something with Fred Astaire for the VCR,

And we're sitting around in our robes discussing,

The state of the world, back exercises, our Keoghs,

And whether to fix the transmission or buy a new car,

And we're eating a pint of rum-raisin ice cream

on the grounds that

Tomorrow we're starting a diet of fish, fruit and grain,

And my dad's in Miami dating a very nice widow,

And no one we love is in serious trouble or pain,

And our bringing-up-baby days are far behind us,

But our senior-citizen days have not begun,

It's not what I called happiness

When I was twenty-one,

But it's turning out to be

What happiness is.

QUOTE:  "Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now.  Live it, feel it, cling to it.  I want to become acutely aware of all I've taken for granted." ~ Sylvia Plath

Alive (Dala)

Quite simply, yoga changed my life.  In February 2017 I started taking, and truly committed to, Monday night classes at my UU church.  In six months, I saw/felt major improvement in my strength, flexibility, and mindfulness.  I was more in touch with my body than I'd been in years, and my spirit was more peaceful.  I learned coping mechanisms for dealing with stress, as well as increased self-confidence in my physical abilities.  Because of the increased self-confidence, I segued to our LA Fitness, twice a week.

 

Before that, I always thought of yoga classes as a room full of skinny, blond, scantily-clad young women.  I could *never* have envisioned myself there.  Now, not only did I see myself there, I followed through and put myself there (Note to Self:  many of them are full-figured, dark- or gray-haired, and wear T-shirts...  😉 ) 

The gym instructor made me feel that I could do *most* of what she taught, but also offered challenges I could see myself achieving on down the road.  None of it would have been possible without Victoria's patient and loving tutelage.  She trained me up to fly away (roots and wings), and my gratitude is eternal.  

I continued classes at the gym until the pandemic, and now I have a home practice, either Yoga with Adriene via YouTube or on my own with a series of poses I've put together.  It's a great way to start the day (or mid-afternoon or evening), stretching, breathing, escaping yet at the same time attuning.  So many challenges, but so much growth as well.  I am amazed when my body will do things I never envisioned.  What a great journey indeed.

However, I still have problems with tree pose, but we all know that balance, on many levels, has never been my strong suit... 😁

 

P.S.  Veni Vidi Vici (translation: Oooooo... I'm on Music Sensory Overload... an evening snack of watermelon is the best... :-) 

NR:  The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

SONG:  Alive by Dala 

BOOK:  Yoga After 50 For Dummies by Larry Payne PhD

POEM:  First Yoga Lesson by Mary Oliver

"Be a lotus in the pond,” she said, “opening

slowly, no single energy tugging

against another but peacefully,

all together.”

I couldn’t even touch my toes.

“Feel your quadriceps stretching?” she asked.

Well, something was certainly stretching.

Standing impressively upright, she

raised one leg and placed it against

the other, then lifted her arms and

shook her hands like leaves. “Be a tree,” she said.

I lay on the floor, exhausted.

But to be a lotus in the pond

opening slowly, and very slowly rising–

that I could do.

QUOTE(S): "Love is a friendship set to music." ~ Joseph Campbell 

“Happiness comes of the capacity to feel deeply, to enjoy simply, to think freely, to risk life, to be needed.” ~ Storm Jameson

Reach Out and Touch (Somebody's Hand) (Diana Ross)

[Disclaimer:  Not our family, but this photo is a placeholder until Sarah sends me the one she took a few days ago... 😍]

The highlight of this week was getting together with The MossFam6, maskless and hugging!  We have all finally had both vaccinations, and the relief is palpable.  I cried, because I just could not stop embracing my children.  Here's/cheers to better days ahead, because the world is becoming a safer place as we approach herd immunity... 💞

 It is indeed Feel Good Friday.  As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

~ Biden Is Pushing a Climate Agenda. Gina McCarthy Has to Make It Stick:  Gina McCarthy, Barack Obama’s E.P.A. chief, could only watch as the Trump administration dismantled her climate work. Now, she’s back with another chance to build a lasting legacy.

~ There’s a Name for the Blah You’re Feeling: It’s Called Languishing:  The neglected middle child of mental health can dull your motivation and focus — and it may be the dominant emotion of 2021.

~ The Ms. Q&A With Ani DiFranco: “You Have License To Be All the Aspects of Yourself and To Be Unashamed of Them”:  When feminist icon Ani DiFranco first stepped onto the global music scene with a defiant voice and black combat boots, she was just 19 years old.

~ Mister Rogers Heat Changing Mug:  The Mister Rogers mug features several quotes from the beloved television host, and when you add a hot beverage, Mister Rogers changes into a comfy sweater. (Yes, I ordered it, and yes, it works.  Very cool.  However, *not* dishwasher-safe!)

~ 2021 Big Read Keynote Address: Hope Jahren, Author of Lab Girl:  More than half a dozen Big Read communities from around the United States will join online for an insightful and inspiring lecture and Q&A by Hope Jahren, a scientist from rural Minnesota who not only knows her trees and flowers, but “has some serious literary chops” (The Washington Post).

SONG:  Reach Out and Touch (Somebody's Hand) sung by Diana Ross (written by Ashford and Simpson)

BOOK:  Heart Minded: How to Hold Yourself and Others in Love by Sarah Blondin

POEM(S):  Hidden Haiku from a Times interview with Kyle Abraham

Even approaching

touch with a friend is a new

negotiation

Creed by Meg Kearney

I believe the chicken before the egg

though I believe in the egg. I believe

eating is a form of touch carried

to the bitter end; I believe chocolate

is good for you; I believe I'm a lefty

in a right-handed world, which does not

make me gauche, or abnormal, or sinister.

I believe "normal" is just a cycle on

the washing machine; I believe the touch

of hands has the power to heal, though

nothing will ever fill this immeasurable

hole in the center of my chest. I believe

in kissing; I believe in mail; I believe

in salt over the shoulder, a watched

pot never boils, and if I sit by my

mailbox waiting for the letter I want

it will never arrive—not because of

superstition, but because that's not

how life works. I believe in work:

phone calls, typing, multiplying,

black coffee, write write write, dig

dig dig, sweep sweep. I believe in

a slow, tortuous sweep of tongue

down the lover's belly; I believe I've

been swept off my feet more than once

and it's a good idea not to name names.

Digging for names is part of my work,

but that's a different poem. I believe

there's a difference between men and

women and I thank God for it. I believe

in God, and if you hold the door

and carry my books, I'll be sure to ask

for your name. What is your name? Do

you believe in ghosts? I believe

the morning my father died I heard him

whistling "Danny Boy" in the bathroom,

and a week later saw him standing in

the living room with a suitcase in his

hand. We never got to say good-bye, he

said, and I said I don't believe in

good-byes. I believe that's why I have

this hole in my chest; sometimes it's

rabid; sometimes it's incoherent. I

believe I'll survive. I believe that

"early to bed and early to rise" is

a boring way to live. I believe good

poets borrow, great poets steal, and

if only we'd stop trying to be happy

we could have a pretty good time. I

believe time doesn't heal all wounds;

I believe in getting flowers for no

reason; I believe "Give a Hoot, Don't

Pollute," "Reading is Fundamental,"

Yankee Stadium belongs in the Bronx,

and the best bagels in New York are

boiled and baked on the corner of First

and 21st. I believe in Santa

Claus, Jimmy Stewart, ZuZu's petals,

Arbor Day, and that ugly baby I keep

dreaming about—she lives inside me

opening and closing her wide mouth.

I believe she will never taste her

mother's milk; she will never be

beautiful; she will always wonder what

it's like to be born; and if you hold

your hand right here—touch me right

here, as if this is all that matters,

this is all you ever wanted, I believe

something might move inside me,

and it would be more than I could stand.

QUOTE:  "Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around." ~ Leo Buscaglia