Not a real post today since I have to head out soon for a long shift!
Yesterday was great, though. I spent the whole afternoon going over my finances and I have an appointment later this week for a chat with my accountant in NYC.
I am looking very seriously at retiring after the New Year, so that I can spend the rest of my life writing.🥰
I will keep you posted.
Have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world!
Thanks for visiting.
I love you guys. See ya!💖
Sorry I’m late!!
Today is really the first day I’ve had completely and totally OFF in about 3 weeks. So I think I just went ahead and collapsed. I slept in until 5AM (!!) — I haven’t done that since before the time change. And then after I went back to bed with my coffee to meditate and get ready for this splendid day, I just did not want to get out of bed.
But here I now am!
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My shift with the retired Minister and his lovely wife and cat was really weird yesterday.
I can’t go into the details. It wasn’t bad, just “challenging.” And more than ever, I am really planning to retire early next year. I really don’t know how much more of the caregiving I can handle.
We shall see.
My primary concern, of course, is my favorite 95-year-old Japanese man. He does not handle new or unfamiliar caregivers very well at all. Plus, he thinks he has known me for years. He thinks I was also freinds with his late wife (by the time I began working with him last October, she had been gone for nearly 6 years).
I know it would be so hard on him if I simply stopped showing up and someone else was suddenly in my place.
My Q-following friend had a good point, though, when we were discussing this very topic on our recent road trip to see my birth mom — she said that if I gave up all other clients and only worked with him, I might be able to handle it better.
It’s something to think about.
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Speaking of road trips!!
So, okay — wow. Am I glad I made that trip, gang.
The night before, I was panicking. It’s part of being born “a mistake” and never really feeling like I belonged anywhere. And there’s always a little voice in the back of my head saying that my birth mom (even after 40 years of having her back in my life) is suddenly going to announce: “I changed my mind and I want you to stay away from me now.”
I called my girlfriend and said that I was canceling the trip. I was too stressed out. I was convinced that my mother didn’t want to see me. That I have no place left in that family — I’m an outsider, etc.
My girlfriend convinced me that I had to make the trip. That my mom wasn’t getting any younger, and if I canceled the trip, I would never re-schedule it.
So I said okay, we’ll go. But I was still stressing.
And then Thursday morning, I was wearing a white pullover that had little pumpkins and fall leaves all over it, and I was wearing a very autumnal-colored pair of rust-colored jeans. And even my coat had autumn colors. And even my earrings kind of matched my shirt.
And even though this is how I actually dress in the fall (!!), I suddenly felt that everyone would think that I dress really weird.
But the trip got underway, and what a gorgeous fall day it was. It was such a great day for a drive on mostly backroads in rural Ohio.
And my girlfriend and I never stopped talking the whole way. It was great.
And when we arrived in Greenfield, I could not believe how pretty that town was. Actually, it has now been downsized to a village, no longer a town. (Like here in Crazeysburg, where I live. This used to be a town — it had a hotel, a billiard hall, some bars, a grocery store, a restaurant. Now it has none of those things and only about 1300 people live here. Greenfield is a lot bigger than here, but it is still smaller than it once was.)
I remembered that I had always liked Greenfield, but I hadn’t been back there in about 40 years. I had been back for my grandmother’s funeral about 12 years ago, but the cemetery is on the outskirts of the town, so I wasn’t actually in the town itself.
But, wow, do they take a lot of pride in it’s history. It is so pretty and they take really good care of the really old buildings (some as early as the 1800s).
My mother’s little senior apartment complex is directly behind the buildings on the left:
I was expecting my mom’s apartment complex to be a lot bigger and sort of non-descript and industrial looking but the complex was tiny, rustic and old, and adorable.
AND — my mother was waiting for us in front of her little apartment and she was wearing a black pullover with tiny fall leaves all over it and matching little fall-leaf-shaped earrings.
This idea that I don’t belong in that family is now, you know, completely over…
And her little front garden was full of little fall stuff that she’d bought at the Family Dollar — which is another thing that I totally and completely do!
Anyway. She said: “I was so nervous about you coming here. I was so stressed out. I’ve been cleaning all morning.”
This was the first time I’d actually seen her apartment. She’s only been there a few years. (She lived forever and ever in a farm house in Jackson, Ohio.) And it was not only absolutely adorable, but the way she had it decorated, it was like walking into a tiny version of my own house.
Oh, also, I had brought $50 to give to her and I kept stressing about that, too. Should I give her money? Is that weird? Will she be offended? But after my brother had gone out, I gave her the $50 and I said, “Here, I just wanted you to have this. I didn’t want to give this to you around Ronnie, because I don’t want him to spend it.”
And, gang, she practically cried. She said, “Thank you so much. “
I was so glad I had brought her that money.
She and my girlfriend and I went out for lunch and the food was fantastic. And we just had the best time. And it was right across from the old (and beautiful) high school :
Both my mom and my birth dad attended this high school, even though both of them dropped out and did not graduate.
But being in that town felt like a part of me was “home” and I remember feeling that same feeling when I used to go there back in the late 80s.
It was just a beautiful feeling. And I felt like my birth dad was there in spirit with us.
Well, the trip was short, but the drive back here was just stunning. We took a different route, wherein I also got to pass by my old alma mater — Ohio Christian University, where I studied for the ministry about 10 years ago. Wow, are they taking great care of that place, too:
And after I got back home, my mom called me to make sure we’d gotten back okay. And she started to cry a little and she said, “I was so stressed about you two coming here to this tiny apartment, but I had such a nice time. I am so happy you came. I just wish I could walk out my door and walk right over to your house and walk inside.”
That made me feel incredible, gang.
And right before I left her house, she surprised me by giving me a really lovely framed Thomas Kincaid print– of a church in the spring. She had originally given it to my grandmother as a gift, but took it back after my grandmother died:
I was blown away! It is so pretty. And the fact that she wanted me to have it, instead of her other daughters or her granddaughters or her great-granddaughters… it just meant so much to me.
It’s now hanging in my kitchen because I wanted to look at it all the time. And now every time I go into my kitchen and see it, I just smile.
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Well, sorry this is so long! But it is safe to say that I no longer feel like I don’t belong in that family.
Okay. So.
Enjoy your Monday, wherever you are in the world!
Thanks for visiting.
I love you guys. See ya!
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I leave you with this!
Breakfast-listening music. Another one from Mojo, 2010. Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers’ “Good Enough”.
Enjoy, gang.
“Good Enough”
She was hell on her mama
Impossible to please
She wore out her daddy
Got the best of me
But there’s somethin’ about her
That only I can see
And that’s good enough
You’re barefoot in the grass
And you’re chewin’ sugarcane
You got a little buzz on
You’re kissin’ in the rain
And if a day like this
Don’t ever come again
Well that’s good enough
Good enough for me
Good enough for right now
Good enough for me
Good enough for right now
God bless this land
God bless this whiskey
I can’t trust love
It’s far too risky
If she marries into money
She’s still gonna miss me
And that’s good enough
Gonna have to be good enough
c -2010 Tom Petty, Mike Campbell
A lovely morning here. Yay!
A little chilly, but it is mid-November, so I can’t complain. Oh, wait! I could complain, but I won’t!!
I have a shift with the retired Minister later today, but most of the day here is free and I have tomorrow OFF, so — yay!! I’m tired, but I’m happy.
Okay!
I forgot to post this yesterday!
It was 45 years ago yesterday that I moved to NYC!! What a time it was, gang. New York in the 80s. Wow. Some rough stuff out there in those streets but so memorable! (And for some reason, living for nearly 30 years in NYC was never as rough as my life had been in Columbus, Ohio…)
And here is quite a memorable song from that era, too. Whenever I hear this song, I always remember that first year I spent in NYC. It was life-changing on so many levels. Queen, 1980, “Another One Bites the Dust”:
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Here’s this!
I loved this photo of Allen Ginsberg in Prague, March 1965:
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And, WOW, gang!
I got up to go to the bathroom during the night at — apparently — 2:49AM, and these 2 very cool texts were on the home screen on my phone!! I had to take a screenshot for you!
One was from Wayne, with more kind words about my manuscript for The Curse of Our Profound Disorder.
And a quick reply from Billy Sheehan to one of my comments to him on Instagram!
If you don’t know who Billy Sheehan is:
“…an American musician known for playing bass guitar with acts such as Talas, Steve Vai, David Lee Roth, Mr. Big, Niacin, and The Winery Dogs. He is also known for his “lead bass” playing style, including the use of chording, two-handed tapping, “three-finger picking” technique and controlled feedback. Sheehan has been voted “Best Rock Bass Player” five times in Guitar Player readers’ polls.”
His account on Instagram is personal — he’s actually the one posting stuff, not an assistant. And while he has a ton of bass-related stuff, he also posts photos of his cats, his wife, his yard, his meals when he’s on tour, etc.
And I really appreciated Wayne’s text about the Jack Kicking Eagle section of my novel, because I re-wrote that particular stuff many, many times. Even when I finally signed-off on it, I wasn’t sure if it was going to be clear enough for readers to appreciate it. So that really felt good.
And — oddly enough — when I was driving home from my shift yesterday afternoon, I was thinking about that very section of the book and I was wondering what Wayne was going to think of it. So it was particularly cool to see that text in the middle of the night. I went back to sleep with a little smile on my face.
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And yesterday, while I was with my favorite 95-year-old Japanese man, we were talking about the hot springs area of Japan where his father had gone to live until he died — Beppu Onsen in Kyushu.
I found a photo of it on my phone and his face lit up when he saw it. “Yes! That is it!”
Since his long-term memory is still perfect, he really, really enjoys seeing photos of people and places he remembers from his past.
Here is the photo of Beppu and this LINK tells you about the area.
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You know, the older I get, the more convinced I am that I won’t be able to see a lot of the places I’d dreamed of traveling to in this lifetime, primarily because I get so tired of doing everything all by myself. And the places I want to visit, and the reasons why I want to visit them — I can’t imagine anyone being interested in going with me.
Except maybe Kara! I can actually imagine myself saying to her:
ME: “Come on, Kara, we’re going to Beppu Onsen in Kyushu! Get your passport ready!”
SHE (a little mystified): “Oh, really? Okay! Wow, where did I put that darn passport…”
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Okay, that’s kind of it for now.
I know I said I was going to go into more of the details about my great trip to see my birth mom and my younger, 59-year-old (!!), brother. But it will wait until tomorrow.
Enjoy your Sunday, wherever you are in the world!
Thanks for visiting.
I love you guys. See ya!
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I leave you with this!
I love this song!! I especially love the off-beat Thomas Jefferson history of it.
I’ve been playing this CD on my retro boombox for the last few mornings, when I finally get up, let the cats into my room, and start making the bed!! And then this fantastic opening riff sticks with me all morning.
Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, “Jefferson Jericho Blues”, from their fantastic album, Mojo, 2010. Enjoy, gang.
“Jefferson Jericho Blues”
Well poor Tom Jefferson
He loved the little maid out back
Midnight creepin’ out to the servant’s shack
Kept a secret under the bed
Wrapped in a burlap sack
Well I drove all day and night
Out to Jericho
But in my second mind
I knew it was time to go
Yeah and I still get nervous every time
That bugle blows
Well she ain’t no good for me
But I just can’t let go
If I sit here thinkin’
My thoughts will overflow
And I can’t keep from cryin’
Can’t keep time from movin’ slow
c – 2010 Tom Petty
…Wherein, I could sure use a day off!
God, I’m tired, gang. Even though it’s all for good stuff this time. But I’d really like to just STOP, you know?
Anyway. I am hoping to retire early next year. Not from writing, but from the other stuff. We shall see how that progresses.
Meanwhile…
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Here’s this!
Just lovely, in my opinion!
Oh, and I forgot to mention that I finished watching the TV docu-series, My Life As A Rolling Stone (2022), the other night. And I think the episodes on Ronnie Wood and Charlie Watts were even better than the episode about Keith! If you can imagine that!
Anyway. I liked the series. I wish it had more episodes.
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And here’s this!
One more photo from the other day in Argentina:
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And here’s this!
A Black Friday Sale is underway at Cave Things!
Including items like this!
50% off!! Now only $128. With FREE shipping — Oops! With NOT free shipping!! Yay!!
Honestly, though, gang, if you purchased this for me, as well-meaning as your gesture would be and as appreciative as I would be to receive it, I would be hard-pressed to find ROOM for it! I have so many darn dishes!!
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Okay, on that Nick Cave note — more thoughts from yesterday, and Nick’s Red Hand File to the girl from Germany who had written a poem…
It reminded me of how incredibly blessed I was when, at age 12, I entered Jr. High School in Columbus, Ohio, and got the most amazing English teacher, ever. And he remained a good friend of mine for decades.
(This will all be in that memoir of my life in the 1970s, once I am able to think straight and actually write it.)
R. Nikolas Macioci. He is still a prolific poet, even though he is well into his 80s now. And back in 1972, when I first met him, he was already a published poet, and had just received his PhD. And without him, it is safe to say that I would not have survived those years in Jr. High School. (Fall 1972- Spring 1975)
It was not Jr. High School that was hard on me, it was everything that was happening to me in my life back then.
One of our class assignments in 1972 was to read a specific book (I can’t recall now which novel it was) and then write a short paper in response to the book.
By then, I was already a prolific writer. I wrote songs and poems constantly, in my room. So, without knowing yet that our teacher was a published poet, or interested in poetry in any way, I wrote a poem in response to the novel. And when he chose me as one of the students that had to get up and read to the class what we’d written about the novel, he was sort of astounded that I’d written a poem.
And he told me to stay after class.
I was, of course, nervous, because I thought I had done something wrong by writing a poem instead of an actual paper. But what happened, then, is that part that changed my life as a writer, forever.
He asked me if I’d written other poems. I told him yes, but that mostly I wrote songs. And he asked if he could read some of them.
Well, I was thrilled by this! The next day, I brought in the 3-ring binder with all my song lyrics and poems in it and gave it to him after class.
HE: “You wrote all these? Do you care if I take this home with me?”
Again, I was just thrilled.
And after he’d read all of them, he asked me to stay after class yet again — and he told me that I was very talented. And that I should stick with it. And he even gave me exercises to work on at home, to specifically make my poetry better.
At that point, my life started to go completely haywire, in all the worst ways, and he was someone I could always go to for moral support. And during the brief time that I moved to Cincinnati (after Greg’s death, the first rape, my nervous breakdown and a couple of overdoses) and lived with my dad and stepmom for a few months, he used to write me letters that literally saved my life.
In fact, when I was committed to the mental hospital, he came to visit me there. (He privately took me aside there and told me, “You don’t belong in this place. Keep writing. Keep fighting.”)
I cannot overstate how much he meant to me, and the influence he had on me as a writer. Even during all the years I lived in NYC, I would send him my writing and he would write back (or sometimes call) with his comments.
The last time we got together was when I came back from doing a reading in London for my novel, Twilight of the Immortal. I had sent him a copy and he read it. He loved that novel. In fact, this is from the very kind review of it that he wrote on Amazon:
“…Twilight of the Immortal is a masterful book, perhaps a masterpiece. Once the first page is turned, life changes for the reader. It’s a book that immerses, educates, entertains, and enlightens. It’s a book that induces laughter and tears. It’s a book that the reader will savor until the last pages and then begrudgingly winnow down paragraph by paragraph to prevent the end from actually arriving because it’s hard to accept that this book won’t last forever.“
You can find a lot of his poetry collections at Amazon HERE. (He was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize.)
Here is what he looks like nowadays (although I haven’t actually seen him since I moved out here to the Hinterlands):
And here he is from the school yearbook in 1973!
And here is what he signed in my yearbook in the Spring of 75:
And as I was perusing my 3 Jr. High School yearbooks for this blog post, I thought you might appreciate seeing this great photo of some of the teachers at my school back in 1973!! While they were difficult years in my life, the 1970s were such great years to be alive.
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So, all of that came back to me when I read what Nick Cave had written to the girl from Germany who had shared her poem with him, wanting his advice.
I’m guessing that his generosity toward her (in public, no less), will have a profound and wonderful influence on her future writing.
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I also wanted to go more into the details of my great trip to visit my birth mom and my younger brother in Greenfield on Thursday, but I don’t have time today. I have to head out to see my favorite 95-year-old Japanese man — whose daughter is visiting from Texas starting today!
So I gotta scoot, but I will write more about my trip tomorrow.
Also —
Phil’s Q & A from last night was very good! You can listen to it HERE if you missed it.
Enjoy your Saturday, wherever you are in the world!
Thanks for visiting!
I love you guys. See ya!
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I leave you with this!
Back in English class in 1972, “Mr. Macioci” (who, for most of my life I have called “Nik”) told us about a song he had heard on the radio and that he was very moved by it. He thought it was an incredible song. He wanted to know if any of us had heard it … (of course, I had…)
“Changes,” by David Bowie, the single was released earlier that year, from the album Hunky Dory. Enjoy, gang.
“Changes”
Oh yeah
Mm
Still don’t know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild, a million dead-end streets and
Every time I thought I’d got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I’ve never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I’m much too fast to take that test
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes (Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes, don’t want to be a richer man
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes (Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes, just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can’t trace time
Oh yeah
I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They’re quite aware of what they’re going through
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes (Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes, don’t tell them to grow up and out of it
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes (Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes, where’s your shame?
You’ve left us up to our necks in it
Time may change me
But you can’t trace time
Strange fascination, fascinating me
Ah, changes are taking the pace I’m going through
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes (turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes, oh, look out you rock ‘n rollers
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes (turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes, pretty soon now you’re gonna get older
Time may change me
But I can’t trace time
I said that time may change me
But I can’t trace time
c- 1971 David Bowie
I am going to try to catch up from what I didn’t have time to post over the past couple days, but I do have to head to town and see my favorite 95-year-old Japanese man soon, so I don’t know if I can post everything today.
We shall see!!
Oh, I want to mention that his daughter from Houston is coming to visit for a few days, starting tomorrow, and he is very excited about that. So he should be in great spirits today.
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My trip to see my birth mom yesterday was fantastic, gang. And I also saw my younger brother for the first time in about 5 years (??). Something like that.
Somehow, during the last 40 years that I’ve known him, he became an old Cherokee guy– really weathered-looking; chiseled facial features, long-ish, graying hair. Tall, lean. He still drinks like a chimney and smokes like a fish…But, wow, he is really attractive.
It’s a good thing he’s my brother, otherwise, if I, like, met him in a bar or something. Well, let’s just say he is NOTHING but trouble. And with a capital ‘T’. But good-looking Trouble. And I have always been inordinately attracted to Cherokees.
Anyway!
My mom looked great. And, while, physically, she’s moving a little slower, her mind is still sharp. My Q-following girlfriend was with me and the 2 of them had met before, here at my house. They get along very well. So all of us had a really nice time.
My mom is generally very quiet and introverted, so I had not realized how much she missed me. That felt incredible, gang — to feel like I “mattered” to somebody again. Since my dad died, and the caregiving jobs started, I have felt so emotionally isolated.
I will go into more details about the trip tomorrow, but for now, I just feel so happy with how everything went.
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Okay. Here’s this–
Keith with John Lee Hooker:
And Keith in Copenhagen, in September 1970:
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And here’s this–
Mink (Willy) DeVille in NYC:
And one of my all-time favorite Mink DeVille Songs! “Mixed Up, Shook Up Girl,” 1977. What a great song!!!
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Johnny Smoke has been in Buenos Aires this week! Primarily for the launch of “Modi” down there. But also for this:
Judging from the tons of photos and videos on Instagram, the trip was a complete & total success!
Here are just a couple of photos:
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In Nick Cave news this week!!
There is a seating and venue update for the Australian “Wild God” Tour in January.
Find out more HERE.
And he sent out quite an incredible Red Hand File the other day, too. It brought back some terrific memories for me and my life as a young writer (13-14 years old), that I will post about tomorrow!!
Meanwhile, you can read what Nick Cave said HERE.
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Also, there is a new film out that has made the rounds of the International Film Festivals, and I cannot wait to see it.
It is called “Peter Hujar’s Day“–
It’s based on a transcript of Hujar’s description of what he did in one day, which in the film becomes anything but ordinary….”
Long-time readers of this lofty blog perhaps recall that back in NYC in the mid-80s during the AIDS crisis, I was a volunteer for Visiting Nurse Services of NY, and one of my patients was Peter Hujar — right up until he died.
What a nice man he was. And his photos were absolutely iconic. Stepping into his apartment the first time I met him, I was overwhelmed by just how many photos he’d taken that I not only recognized (they were displayed on his walls), but that were also sort of monumental to me, during my years of reading CREEM Magazine, as a young teenager in my little bedroom in Ohio.
In NYC, he lived only a couple of blocks from me (in the East Village), and when I met him that first day in his apartment, he said, “You live around here, don’t you? I recognize you from the neighborhood.”
I was really flattered by that, you know?
Anyway. I can’t wait to see this film. Rights to the film have now sold to multiple territories.
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Well, shoot. I really gotta go, gang.
I will be back with more details about LIFE tomorrow!!
Enjoy your Friday, wherever you are in the world!
Thanks for visiting.
I love you guys. See ya!
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I leave you with this!
From John Fogerty’s album, Centerfield. From 1985. Not only an iconic album, but it was extremely popular during that late Spring when I first met my younger brother. He was 19.
It was early morning, I was sound asleep in my sister’s bed, my brother came in, drunk, and suddenly blasted this song on his boombox.
I lurched awake from a sound sleep. My brother said, “You’re really pretty, you know that?”
Okay! For my not-so-little brother, Ronnie. I love you!!
“Rock & Roll Girls”. Enjoy, gang.
The Internet eventually came back yesterday afternoon but I did not have time to post.
This morning, I’m heading out early with my favorite Q-following friend, to drive down to Greenfield to see my birth mom. So it’s looking like I’ll be posting here tomorrow.
Have a great Thursday, wherever you are in the world.
Thanks for visiting.
I love you guys.See ya!
There was no internet this morning in Crazeysburg so I will try to post when I get home later from my shift!
Meanwhile, I stopped at a park to try posting from here!!
See ya later, gators!🥰
Just a quick post to say I am finally feeling a lot better.
I got plenty of rest yesterday even though I still got everything done that I wanted to do. Plus I ate a lot. I think I needed that.🥰
Sandra was not able to work over the phone yesterday, but I did have a really nice chat with Foun Kee, my first husband who lives out in Seattle. It was really nice to catch up,
Have a terrific Tuesday, gang, wherever you are in the world.
Thanks for visiting!!🙋♀️💖
Sorry I’m late. Again.
Wow, am I exhausted, gang. Emotionally. I’m really having trouble snapping out of it. And not just because of Nancy’s death, but because everywhere I look right now, nothing makes sense. My brain can’t process anything.
I need a stay-cation so badly.
I am so tempted to call off sick for tomorrow– to give the Agency a big head start, trying to find someone who will cover a 10-hr shift….
But then I remember how much the client said they appreciated me last week and I feel like I can’t call in sick if I’m not truly sick… I’m just exhausted.
So anyway. On we go.
(Oh, looks like the Government is finally re-opening. The Senate just voted.)
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Since tomorrow is Tuesday (I can’t call it “Terrible Tuesday” anymore because it makes me feel guilty now, knowing how much my client wants me there). Anyway, I won’t be posting to the blog tomorrow–
So, an early Happy Veterans Day to one and all!
Long-time readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall, that my ancestors fought in the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, WWII, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War.
And while I could conceivably be a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution, since my birth certificate says “Father Unknown,” I can’t prove that I am part of the May family bloodline. (And my birth father is dead now.)
But the Mays not only fought in the Revolutionary War, and knew Thomas Jefferson, they also played a big part in founding the State of Kentucky. And they also knew — and explored Kentucky with — Daniel Boone.
I’m only bringing this particular stuff up, because it came up last night while I was at my shift with the retired Minister. We were watching a few reruns of the old Daniel Boone TV show from the late 1960s. That show takes place around Maysville, which is a town in Kentucky, on the Ohio River, founded by my Uncle John (put a bunch of “great-greats” in front of that).
Well, I could go on and on about my ancestors in the State of Kentucky, but I won’t.
Just try to honor Veterans Day tomorrow, if you live here in the States.
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This morning, when I’d gone back to bed with my cup of coffee, and totally collapsed (after having had 7 hours of sleep last night), I was listening to this on my retro boombox:
And it brought back memories from over 20 years ago, when I lived on Spring Garden Street with Mikey Rivera, in Easton, Pennsylvania.
We had a little CD player in the bedroom, and I would often play Nat King Cole while making the bed in the morning, getting ready to start the day.
I was a full-time writer back then, and always under constant deadlines. I miss those days.
But anyway!
Here’s my beloved desk back then (yes, I had a fax machine!):
And here’s the house we rented our apartment in. (House on the right.) Our apartment was on the second floor, on the left:
It was only one house away from the Delaware River. We could easily see New Jersey from the kitchen window, and the foothills of the Pocono Mountains from the living room window.
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Okay.
Last night, I started watching Episode 2 of “My Life As A Rolling Stone“.
Episode 2 is the interview with Keith Richards. It is great! I liked it so much better than the interview with Mick, but mostly because Keith is so easy going and animated and emotional.
I stopped watching right before 1968, when things are going to start going really bad for Keith for quite a while. I will watch that part tonight. But I am really enjoying the series. And I am LOVING my family room again, gang.
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Ross K. Nichols Sunday School class from this past Sunday.
Matthew’s Prophetic Rebirth (1 hr 25 mins):
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All right.
I have to finish up the laundry. Get a pot of soup started. Do yoga, wash my hair — and somehow fit in a phone call with Sandra.
So I gotta scoot.
Enjoy your Monday, wherever you are in the world.
I will be back here on Wednesday.
Thanks for visiting.
I love you guys. See ya!
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Breakfast-listening music!
Such a beautiful LIVE album.
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – The Ship Song (Live At The Royal Albert Hall version) (1997). Enjoy, gang.
Happy Sunday. Sorry I’m late.
I’m still trying to process my grief over Nancy’s death the other day, without really having much quiet time to do it in. So it is really kinda weighing on me around here this morning.
My cats don’t seem all that interested in hearing about it. And I can’t discuss a client’s death with my other clients.
I do get free, 24-hr phone counseling through the Agency, but you know, where would I start?
ME: “Everyone I interact with everyday is really, really old, cognitively impaired and getting ready to die or has just died, and I feel like, I don’t know, like something’s missing in my life… I got a new flat screen TV in my family room and it helped, but still…”
THE COUNSELOR: “Have you considered getting a pet — a cat, maybe — to interact with?”
Okay. Perhaps I underestimate the counselor, but you know. Where would I start? Honestly. It seems easier to not dwell on everything that’s weird in my life and just keep goig. Or “going,” as the case may be. (Although I have never actually “goig’d” so maybe it would help. I will look into it…)
I did get a chance to have a chat with Valerie in Brooklyn late yesterday afternoon and that helped a lot. But I really just wanted to call in sick today (I have the retired Minister and his lovely wife and cat later today), but there’s something I do with them every other Sunday (which is today) that no other caregiver is trained in yet, so it just seems like it’s better for me to just go to town for my shift. I have tomorrow off.
All I have to do between now and leaving for town in 4 and a 1/2 hours, is do yoga and take a shower. I like to think I can manage that. I guess we shall see.
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But it was great chatting with Val yesterday. And she actually asked to read the manuscript for The Curse of Our Profound Disorder.
After I picked myself up off the floor and got back in my chair, I said:
ME: “You haven’t read one of my books in, like, 25 years — give or take 20 years.”
SHE: “Yeah, it might have been a decade or two ago.”
She has trouble focusing. But now she wants to work on focusing so, hey. I sent her the file!! I would just love it if she would actually read it and tell me her opinion of it. We’ll see.
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Okay, here’s this.
From Phyllis Stein’s Instagram page!
Keith in Los Angeles, in 1972. Photo by Ken Regan:
And last night, in my new & improved family room — I started watching that documentary TV series on the Rolling Stones from a couple of years ago, “My Life As A Rolling Stone“.
Episode 1 interviewed Mick Jagger. It was interesting, but I felt like it glossed over a whole lot of stuff from the last 60 years. Still, I watched it and will continue. Although it only covers Mick, Keith, Ronnie, and the late Charlie Watts.
Plus, from the brief synopsis about the series:
“…how [they] grew from young blues-loving hopefuls to a globally recognized cultural brand.”
It actually says that. A globally recognized brand.
That’s sure what The Rolling Stones mean to me. For chrissakes.
ME (aged 12, alone in my room, listening to “Exile on Main St” for the first time): “Wow! If these guys stick with it, they could become a globally recognized brand!!!”
But anyway.
I’m trying to force myself to sit in the family room at night and watch TV. And stop being closed up in my room so fucking much. (Along the lines of how Val is trying to force herself to “focus” again.) So I will stick with it. I am of course eager to see Episode 2, which interviews Keith.
We’ll see if I have it in me to watch it tonight, after my shift. Or if I will be too entranced with the idea of closing myself up in my room, lighting some votives, getting in bed and wondering what the fuck has happened to my life…
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Okay, well, I think I’m gonna stop there for today and try to get my thoughts together here before heading off for the shift later. Hopefully, I’ll be in a better emotional place tomorrow.
Enjoy your Sunday, wherever you are in the world.
Thanks for visiting.
I love you guys, See ya!
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Sunday morning-listening music!
From when I went back to bed, with my cup of coffee. Meditated. Then watched it rain outside the window. It helped.
Enjoy, gang.
Marilyn's Room 