Tag Archives: Abstract Absurdity Productions

Okey-Dokey! Sorry, Gang!!

All righty! Well, I’m a little bit late posting here today.

What a gorgeous day here in Crazeysburg, gang! I ran out of a couple things in the fridge so I decided to go ahead and drive into town and do the marketing this morning.

What an incredible day for a drive into town.  Just lovely.  And so now the marketing is done for the week.

I hope this finds all of you faring well during all the riots and unrest we’re having, Stateside. (And, I don’t know — if you live somewhere other than the States and are having riots and unrest, too, well I hope you’re okay, also!)

Here in Crazeysburg, all is well.  And sometime this week (I think) I might be getting that brand new barn door!! I’m going to hear from the Amish guys sometime tonight to get the firm date. But I am so excited, gang!! I cannot wait. And I can’t wait to see Kevin’s face when he gets back from Montana in the fall and sees how great the barn will be looking by then!

And the other Kevin in my life — the director of my play, Tell My Bones — should be calling sometime today to go over the plans for the Zoom staged reading that we’re taping sometime this month. I’m excited to get the update on that, too. (And I’m going to try to persuade him and his husband to come out of lockdown and meet me for dinner one night soon at the Granville Inn!!! We’ll see what they say…)

And Peitor texted a while ago and wants to do more Abstract Absurdity Productions work today, so I said okay.

So between that, and the editing I’m still doing on Peitor’s book (more than halfway done with that), and any work I can get done on Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse, my day is just about over!! Or so it seems…

On an unrelated note… loyal readers of this lofty blog will no doubt recall that I had to finally unfollow the Keanu hashtag on Instagram recently because it was literally jamming my feed with endless, endless, endless photos of Keanu. (And doing that has now allowed tons more photos of alpacas, bears, birds of the world, and the Rolling Stones to flood into my feed!!)

But interestingly enough, there is an “official” Keanu Instagram account that I discovered by way of the Johnny Depp official Instagram account — (and there’s also an actual Johnny Depp account that he personally posts to once in a blue moon and when he does, in a nanosecond 65,739 viewers have already viewed it…)

Anyway, I thought that was interesting. An official Keanu account. So I clicked “follow” and it turns out that they have to approve you! Clicking “follow” is merely a request. You don’t get to just follow him, willy-nilly!! (Probably because the average Keanu fan is just indescribably rabid about Keanu.) Well, the other day, I got approved! I now get to officially follow Keanu’s official account! And they only post maybe one photo every 3 days…. much better than that other stuff.

Okay, so.

Life here is just really good, gang. What can I say? Perfect weather. All my many projects are moving ahead again. My heart is as happy as can be right now. And my refrigerator is full of food!!

And my dad is slowly coming out of lockdown — he’s doing his own grocery shopping now. Throughout the first 2 and 1/2 months of the quarantine, his grocery shopping was done for him by people who work at the Nursing Home-compound-place where he lives.  He still has to wear a mask and all that, because the virus is still really prevalent in the county where he lives, but he is really enjoying at least being able to go to the store now.  And plus he gets some dinner invitations from friends, now, too. So that’s nice. (If you’re new to the blog — my dad is about 90 years old, and his wife of over 30 years died in mid-January. So not only was he alone in the quarantine, but he’s still grieving the loss of my stepmom. So all the isolation has been rough on him.)

But things are moving forward — at least, here in Ohio, they are. I hope it’s similar where you’re at.

All righty, on that note — it is now after 12-noon here, so I’m going to get started on the editing.

I hope you have a great Monday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang! This morning, on the intothelightadventures blog, she mentioned a Cat Stevens song that I used to love that I hadn’t thought of in years (“Moonshadow”), so it got me into a Cat Stevens mood again. So, today I leave you with a really gorgeous “live” version he did of the song, “How Can I tell You I Love You?” (a song that means a lot to me, gang). So, I hope you enjoy it. Have a great day. I love you guys. See ya!

How Can I Tell You

How can I tell you that I love you, I love you
But I can’t think of right words to say
I long to tell you that I’m always thinking of you
I’m always thinking of you, but my words
Just blow away, just blow away
It always ends up to one thing, honey
And I can’t think of right words to say
Wherever I am girl, I’m always walking with you
I’m always walking with you, but I look and you’re not there
Whoever I’m with, I’m always, always talking to you
I’m always talking to you, and I’m sad that
You can’t hear, sad that you can’t hear
It always ends up to one thing, honey,
When I look and you’re not there
I need to know you, need to feel my arms around you
Feel my arms around you, like a sea around a shore
And – each night and day I pray, in hope
That I might find you, in hope that I might
Find you, because heart’s can do no more
It always ends up to one thing honey, still I kneel upon the floor
How can I tell you that I love you, I love you
But I can’t think of right words to say
I long to tell you that I’m always thinking of you
I’m always thinking of you….
It always ends up to one thing honey
And I can’t think of right words to say

c – 1971 Yusef Islam

Happy Sunday!!

Assuming, of course, that you’re not living somewhere that’s paralyzed by both the virus lockdown and now the riots.

What a mess.

Here, it is another cool and gorgeous day.  However, by “cool” I mean that tonight it’s supposed to go way down to 42 degrees Fahrenheit — not enough to kill my flowers, but still pretty cold. So we’ll see how they manage.

Currently, if you’re into space travel stuff, the historic NASA SpaceX launch and DRAGON hookup is streaming live. You can watch it here.

And aside from all the riots right now reminding me of Cleveland, all this NASA stuff reminds me of my childhood in Cleveland, too. We always watched all those Apollo launches on TV, and if the launches took place during a school day, we dropped everything and watched it on a TV in the classroom.  Black & white, of course. (Back then, all of our classrooms had television sets, but it was primarily to watch PBS educational broadcasting. I’m guessing they don’t do that anymore…)

This is how our classrooms actually looked in Cleveland in the late 1960s. And notice the Girl Scout over on the right!! I’d forgotten that we always had to wear out Girl Scout uniforms on days when our troop had its meetings after school. Ah well. Yesteryear.

Oh! And in case you’re interested! Here is my actual Girl Scout sash from those long ago days. Considering I will be 60 in about 6 weeks, and that I was a Girl Scout when I was 9… this sash is pretty old. (And I sewed on each of those little merit badges myself.)

My Girl Scout sash, from Troop 1334. Circa 1969

Okay! So.

Yesterday, Peitor and I got some great work done on Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff. It really felt like we were back on schedule now. And like the lockdown stuff was really coming to an end. We shall see.

(Of course, now the riots in LA are sort of screwing all that up — mandatory curfews there again, etc.)

Here, in Muskingum County, the lockdown is essentially over. We have had a grand total of 40 cases of the virus so far, with no deaths (about 86,000 people live in Muskingum County) .

To give you an idea of how unlike most of Ohio this is, where my dad lives, they still get dozens of new confirmed cases every day, and have over 1000 people with the virus right now — just in his county alone (about 383,000 people live in his county — huge difference).

However, here in Crazeysburg — which, more & more, feels to me like some sort of dreamland — the gasoline prices are on the rise again ($2.09 a gallon), no one has to wear masks anywhere (in the town), and you no longer have to stay 6 feet apart from anyone if you don’t want to. And the local factory is back in business, but at 50% staff.

I still have to leave the county once a week to get my groceries — and even though I’ve had the virus already, I still wear a mask when I go into the next county, because I’m hugely paranoid about catching it again. But other than that, it at least feels completely normal around Crazeysburg now.

Well, all righty. I still have some book editing to do for Peitor — I’m halfway done with that. And then I want to spend the rest of the day working on that new segment for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse. So I’m gonna close this and get going.

Have a happy Sunday, wherever you are in the world. I forgot to mention a while back that the new Einstürzende Neubauten album did indeed come out (Alles In Allem). Over on the a1000mistakes blog out of Australia, he mentioned a song off the album today called “Wedding,” which I also like, so I’m leaving you with that today!

The song is in German. I have no idea what it’s about, except that I’m guessing a wedding factors into it somehow. (But with Einstürzende Neubauten, you don’t really know that for sure. You’d simply have to understand German to really know.) I just like how it sounds. I like the whole album, too. So listen and enjoy! Thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya!

A Lovely Little Morning in Crazeysburg!

Wow, gang. The temperature dipped down into the 50s Fahrenheit, making for just a delightful little morning here. I could still keep some of the windows open during the night, but also get snuggly in bed. Perfect sleeping weather.

And now the sun is shining and the birds are chirping and it just feels like a perfect morning.

I got good work done on the edits of Peitor’s new book yesterday — still have a few days worth of work ahead of me, though. But he’s written a really cool book —  a really engaging read, so I don’t mind editing it at all.

And when I wasn’t editing, I was continuing to read Sharon Olds’ collection of poems, The Father. And even though it is extremely well written, and some very arresting imagery is expressed (it’s a collection of poems chronicling the death of her father), I just kept going right back to Anne Sexton’s Complete Poems. She just inspires me to the moon and back, you know? And she’s really moving me along in Letter #8 for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse.

It’s weird because this is certainly not the first time I’ve read Anne Sexton’s poems, or even The Complete Poems — Wayne and I had that book, back when I was still married to him, back in NYC. And I used to read it.  But for whatever reason, right now, I am totally hooked into it. Totally. Can’t put her poems down.

And even while she is not the aforementioned “Muse” I’m writing to (i.e., “erotic love letters to the Muse”), she is definitely “musing” me right along right now. And I am really enjoying that flow.

I’m reading the Sharon Olds collection specifically because I began reading an academic book that focuses on how the “confessional- style” poets Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, Adrienne Rich, and Sharon Olds deal with the themes of father-daughter incest in their poetry.

(After Anne Sexton’s death, a previous psychiatrist of hers, violating the mandate of doctor-patient confidentiality,  released Anne’s private transcripts to the world (via a book about Anne’s life), revealing that she may have been the victim of incest with her father when she was growing up, and also that Anne herself had engaged in incestuous behavior with one of her daughters — with which that particular daughter concurred, later, in her own memoir.)

Sharon Olds doesn’t seem to have had that issue to contend with in her life, but some of the ideas she touches on in The Father poems could be construed as exploring a certain sexual energy, for lack of a better way of explaining it.  But, to me, it feels more like a human energy, a “thought-exploration” that opens all kinds of doors inside a woman’s mind when someone she loves has died. I certainly wouldn’t describe it as “incest” or even truly “Oedipal”, for that matter.

I’ve read a lot of Sylvia Plath in my life, but not a lot of Adrienne Rich poems, for some reason. But I still found that academic book (mentioned above) highly interesting because the incest theme is certainly a huge part of my own life and my writing (my biological father, not my adoptive one).  And the book did sort of indicate that, in regards to that specific theme in my life, I definitely seem to have never grown up. (I am paraphrasing, hugely.) But in that same regard, based on the author’s conclusions about Anne Sexton and Anne’s approach to that topic in her own work — and drawing from Freud and that whole crowd — neither one of us really grew up.

It could be that my intense immaturity is why I find Anne Sexton’s poems so inspiring! (I do, of course, jest.) (I think.)

Anyway. I appear to be deep into some sort of digression here.  Not sure how that happened. One minute, I was talking about the lovely weather, then the next minute, I was talking about incest…

But that’s just the splendiferous joy of spending time in Marilyn’s Room. We never know where my digressions will take us!!

Meanwhile…

Wow, I really enjoyed that movie I mentioned yesterday Behind the Curtain (1929). I finished streaming it last evening, and it did indeed have Charlie Chan in it — midway through, the location switches to San Francisco and that is where Charlie Chan is living at that point. AND, I might add, they had an actual Chinese actor playing Charlie Chan!! Something they don’t seem to have ever again done, until some remake in the early 1980s, or something like that.

Plus, Boris Karloff puts in an appearance, as well — playing a Persian manservant (!!).  But overall, I just felt the story was really good, really engaging. I mean the morals are outdated, but the storyline was really good for its era.  It was certainly a much deeper film than any of the Charlie Chan one-hour movies that Hollywood began making in the 1930s, when Warner Oland began starring as Charlie Chan. (And the Charlie Chan movies get even more formulaic after Warner Oland died and Sidney Toler was playing Charlie Chan — well in the 1940s. It gets to the point when I can no longer even watch them; they just become paper-thin.)

Anyway, Behind the Curtain was a nice surprise.

Overall, I had just a wonderful day and evening yesterday. Today, I’m scheduled to work again with Peitor on Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff. Plus chat with Valerie about design-related stuff for my upcoming novel The Guitar Hero Goes Home.

Which reminds me… I was chatting on the phone with my ex-husband, Wayne, in NYC, the other day. And he was commenting on a sample of the cover art I had texted him for The Guitar Hero Goes Home. Apparently, he had gone onto Amazon to see if the novel was for sale yet, and he told me he was kind of astounded by how many of my books are for sale on Amazon…

Well, this astounded me because nowadays I have only two-pages on Amazon, mostly for out of print books or for eBooks. Whereas, even just a few years ago, I had a couple dozen pages, and most of my books, from all over the world, were still in print.

Wayne commented to me, “Wow, you’ve really done a lot of writing.’

And then I thought, like: Wow, where were you the entire time we were married? You know? I was publishing tons of stuff the entire time we were married. I was winning literary awards all over the fucking place. Giving readings all the time — and not just in NYC, but in Boston, Cambridge, LA, London, Paris. I was using my advance money from publishers in Europe to take us on great vacations. And I was always, always, always working on one publishing project or another the entire time we were married.

It felt shocking to me that he seems to have no recollection of this. And it makes me wonder who he remembers being married to for 14 years, you know? It was actually kind of upsetting to me, but I didn’t say anything. We’re not married anymore, and haven’t been since 2007. There’s no reason to even go there, right?

However, it did sort of renew that feeling in me that the work women do is never deemed as important as what the men are doing. At least, in my marriage it felt that way.

Although, when I left Wayne and began living with Mikey Rivera, it was just so different. Mikey was unbelievably supportive of my writing — of every single thing I wrote. He was an under-educated Puerto Rican plumber, raised in a Brooklyn ghetto, but he was just so proud of my being a writer. And during those early years with him, I really began to write some of my best work.

Anyway. Life goes on.

So, I’ll close this now and get Saturday happening here! Thanks for visiting, gang. I was listening to the Essential Nina Simone last night while drifting in and out of sleep — and, eventually,  I was dead to the world as it played on into the darkness and turned itself off.

What a great collection! I’ll just randomly leave you with her version of a BeeGees’ song I’ve always loved, “To Love Somebody.” Listen and enjoy, but the entire selection is just stellar. And have a great Saturday, wherever you are in the world, gang! I love you guys. See ya!

 

Just Something Promising to Look At…

Well, the news continues to disturb and distress, doesn’t it, gang?

You know, if you aren’t American and have no idea where or what Minneapolis is — it always seemed to me to be a city that had a very open-minded and tolerant reputation. And it’s a northern city, to say the least. (Northern cities usually have a reputation of being more tolerant, in general, and Minneapolis is probably the largest northern city we have.) (Of course, I grew up in Cleveland, which is also a northern city, and all throughout my childhood, there were violent race riots and massive protests and the National Guard being sent in and fires set all over the place that destroyed lives, etc.)

I don’t know. Maybe Minneapolis’ reputation for tolerance was a little erroneous, or even subjective.  Or maybe the tension of the lockdown on top of the tragic, racially-charged killing, just caused the whole city to explode.

Just a great big horrible, awful mess. (And it’s interesting that so much of Instagram wants to blame Trump for what happened. I seem to recall all kinds of similar awfulness happening throughout Obama’s reign. And of course, I just mentioned how, nearly 60 years ago, this kind of awfulness was happening all the time, and Trump was still growing up out in Queens, so… It gets hard to follow the regrettable chain of ideas that springs simply from hate.)

A well-known writer from the rock & roll days that I follow on Instagram is a serious Trump hater.  Like, beyond your ability to comprehend. He blames Trump for absolutely everything imaginable. He even made a statement the other day that Trump dodged COVID 19 the same way that he dodged the Vietnam War. What the heck? This writer is old enough to have served in Vietnam, too, and didn’t, so, like why’s he even bringing that up?

I guess to give the impression that he’s blinded by hate.

And even though I’m not  a Republican — although I am definitely no longer a Democrat, since they became the Party of Supreme Intolerance — I have no issue with how Trump handled COVID 19.

During the peak of the crisis, even while I had the virus, I watched the President’s press conference every single night. The Federal Government seemed to be doing an amazing job of staying on top of the horror, daily — and it was intensely revealing to see how these alleged “journalists” would take the President’s answers to their intensely-politically-motivated questions and then turn the answers into headlines the following morning that were meant strictly to incite emotions and to not deliver actual facts.

I saw it happen again and again in the NY Times and with CNN — two news outlets that I used to swear by, you know? I saw it with my own eyes; heard it with my own ears: Wait, I saw that press conference and that’s not what the President said.

It was scary to see all that hate heaped into the NY-based news outlets by “journalists,” while all those New Yorkers were trapped in the quarantined epicenter and already struggling against so much tragedy caused by that Virus.  (New York City is also the epicenter of Trump-haters — followed closely by Los Angeles– so the headlines seemed to just be exacerbating the city’s fears.)

Anyway, here was this NYC-based rock & roll writer, spewing so much hate in his Instagram feed, while I was actually faring just fine with the Federal Government’s handling of the pandemic.

Because I’m a writer, I have to file a Schedule C every year with my taxes, meaning I am also responsible for paying for my own healthcare, at a premium rate.

Health insurance is ridiculously expensive in America — most Americans simply cannot afford it without assistance of some sort, myself included. And I don’t believe in health insurance — while I do believe that it is unconstitutional to force Americans, by law, to buy health insurance. That was Obama’s legacy, btw, and he was allegedly a Democrat (that I voted for) (but he was actually a Socialist).

Anyway, because Obama forced into law something that was unconstitutional, I joined a Christian healthcare cooperative, that costs me next to nothing every month and keeps me within the law.  But because we were in lockdown, the Federal Government started sending out special weekly payments to people like me who are alone and have to handle all kinds of expenses — i.e., ridiculously expensive health insurance — with next to know opportunities for money to come in until the lockdown is completely over.

Because of the Federal Government, I have survived just fine — but, then, I don’t have to pay for health insurance. The pandemic has been beyond “regrettable,” but Trump didn’t cause it — Trump, a Republican whom I didn’t vote for. (Whereas Obama, a Democrat whom I did vote for, did in fact create this horrible economic situation where Americans are forced by law to have health insurance that most of them cannot possibly afford, with or without the added awfulness of the pandemic.)

So it is, indeed, a great big mess for a lot of people right now. But I do honestly believe that a huge portion of the national media makes things a whole lot worse — purposely feeding people emotionally biased “news,” intentionally manipulating them, until feelings and facts have become hopelessly blurred.

And unfortunately, I have found that I did have to jettison CNN  and the NY Times, in order to find out what was actually going on in the world.

So, well, I guess that’s how I feel about that. (“And other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, did you enjoy the play?”)

Oh — and here’s something I realized the other day — when Abraham Lincoln was heading by train to Washington DC for his inauguration as President, he traveled on the Baltimore & Ohio rail lines, and stopped overnight at the Buxton Inn in Granville, Ohio. (The Buxton Inn is across the street from my beloved Granville Inn –itself a National Landmark, but nowhere near as old as the Buxton Inn.)

But it occurred to me the other day that, even though my house wasn’t here back then, the railroad tracks were, and Crazeysburg was already here, and I’m thinking that Lincoln’s train probably was on those very train tracks that are outside of my house! Just so cool, right?? (Assuming you don’t also hate Lincoln — a Republican– which I don’t.)

Well, all righty!! I know I try not to get political on this blog, but some days I just have to give in.  It really just gets to be too much sometimes — how all the faces change, and the sides rearrange and the issues have different names, but the bad news stays exactly the same.

Today is going to be full of thunderstorms, so that should be suitably dramatic and will see if my breathing becomes once again affected by the intense humidity of thunderstorms. I still have to do a ton of editing on Peitor’s new book. Then meet with him for a few hours over the phone and work on Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff. And then also do some more work on Letter #8 for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse.

I’m guessing the day will be over in a heartbeat. Currently, I’m streaming Behind the Curtain — a movie made in 1929, which is technically a Charlie Chan movie, but I’m halfway through it and so far, Charlie Chan hasn’t put in an actual appearance. It’s more about Scotland Yard getting help from Charlie Chan, via overseas letters, in solving a local murder. It is actually a really good movie. And it’s “pre-Code” so it has its salacious elements right out front. No innuendo needed.

Okay. I’ll close this and get on with my day, gang.  Thanks for visiting.  I hope Friday is okay to you, wherever you are in the world. I leave you with something I happened to see on Bad Seed TeeVee last evening and then was reminded of on Instagram this morning! Rather timely, as it were. I sure hope the tragedy in Minneapolis can find some sort of balance before more people die and the whole city  goes up in flames. Okay. I love you guys. See ya.

“In The Ghetto”

As the snow flies
On a cold and grey Chicago morn
A poor little baby child is born in the ghetto

And his mama cries
Cause there’s one thing that she don’t need
Is another little hungry mouth to feed in the ghetto

Oh people don’t you understand
This child needs a helping hand
He’s gonna grow to be an angry young man some day
Take a look at you and me
Are we that blind to see?
Do we simply turn our heads and look the other way?

And the world turns
And the hungry little boy with the runny nose
Plays in the streets as the cold wind blows in the ghetto
And his hunger burns
So he starts to roam the streets at night
And he learns how to steal and he learns how to fight in the ghetto

Then one night in desperation
The young man breaks away
He buys a gun and steals a car
He tries to run but he don’t get far
And his mama cries
A crowd gathers round an angry young man
Face down in the street with a gun in his hand in the ghetto

Oh people don’t you understand
This child needs a helping hand
He’s gonna grow to be an angry young man some day
Take a look at you and me
Are we that blind to see?
Do we simply turn our heads and look the other way?

And as her young man dies
On a cold and grey Chicago morn
Another little baby child is born in the ghetto

c – 1969 Mac Davis

Sure Hope the Morning Gets Better…

Wow, what a weird morning I’ve had here so far, gang.

My perceptions have been all screwy.

First, I awoke around 3:45am, looked at my phone to see if there were any texts on it. There were, including one that was of great interest to me which turned out to not actually be there.

I like to think I was somehow still half asleep when I looked at the phone, but I could have sworn I saw what I saw. So that was intensely creepy.

I got up to go to the bathroom, stepped on something weird, which felt like a fuzzy cat toy of some kind. I turned on the lamp for a moment and there was absolutely nothing on the floor but the floor itself. So that was weird.

In the (dark) bathroom, I heard a very loud ticking sound that also creeped me out. It sounded like it was coming from the cabinet under the sink, but it wasn’t. And then the sound suddenly stopped.

Then I saw something weird on the bathroom floor, and thought: what the fuck is that? But upon blinking my eyes, I realized that it was just the bathroom scale.

When I came back into the (dark) bedroom, I saw a weird glow coming from the far side of the bed, on the floor. When I went to investigate, there was absolutely nothing there at all. No glow, no light, no nothing.

I decided at that point to get out of the bedroom and just go downstairs and start my morning. And even though everything was perfectly fine downstairs, I really was starting to worry that I was losing my mind.

So we’ll see how this day actually goes, gang. The sun is up now and all seems to be right with the world (and my bedroom), so here’s hoping…

(The most disappointing part of it, though, is that yesterday,  I had such a great day — from start to finish. I was expecting to wake up this morning still in the momentum of the great day yesterday, and instead, woke up in a completely different Universe.)

Me with my imaginary (though undeniably handsome) friends, watching my life go off the rails…

Okay.

I don’t know if I’m working on Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff today or tomorrow, but I do know that I am doing a final edit on Peitor’s new book, starting today. I imagine it will take me about a week, so that means a couple of my own writing projects will likely take a backseat for right now, but at least it gets that project off his desk and will help him/us focus on film  stuff. Los Angeles is starting to come out of lockdown now, too, so we have a lot of work to catch up on.

I am still making good progress with the new segment for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse. (I am surprised by just how intense that segment is, though. I will likely split up the book editing work this week with working on that new segment.)

So! Little by little, we are getting back to normal around here. (Or perhaps, me being out of my mind is going to be part of that “new” normal we keep hearing so much about!) (I hope not.)

I still have a TON of web work to do on the Abstract Absurdity Productions web site, though, which is sort of stressing me out — remember how that site was supposed to launch by April 1st??!! And  I had planned to hire “a happiness engineer” to help me quickly pull that site together, but then all these expenses came up for the barn so now I’m not sure. I guess we’ll just see.

What a strange, strange day, though, gang.

Last evening, down in my kitchen,  I streamed yet another Charlie Chan movie that I’ve seen a million times — Charlie Chan in Monte Carlo (1938). This was the last full Charlie Chan film Warner Oland made before he died. And thinking about that at the kitchen table last evening, caused me to google his cause of death — I knew he had died suddenly, and then they brought in Sidney Toler to be Charlie Chan for a bunch more films. But I never knew what had happened to Warner Oland. (He was , by far, my favorite Charlie Chan.) (And it turns out he was not part-Asian, although he’d said he was.)

But it turns out he was a really, really cool individual. I was kind of flabbergasted. He even did a lot of early stage work with Alla Nazimova!! (Who I write about, at length in my novel Twilight of the Immortal.) Warner was his Americanized stage name — he was actually born in Sweden (and died there, too, as it turned out). He married a playwright, who mastered the Swedish language, so that the two of them could  translate the playwright Strindberg’s plays into English.

Warner Oland - Wikipedia

He and his wife were married for 30 years and were both very successful. And then — yes — his alcoholism (!!) caused him to walk off the set of a Charlie Chan movie, and that quickly killed the 30-year marriage. And shortly after the divorce, he visited friends back in Sweden, got pneumonia, discovered he also had emphysema, and then suddenly died. It all seems to have happened in very short order.

And in fact, 20th Century Fox (the studio he had walked out on) took the footage they had already filmed, replaced the Charlie Chan character with Peter Lorre playing Mr. Moto and released it as a Mr. Moto film!! Isn’t that wild? I of course saw that very same Mr. Moto movie just a couple weeks ago, and I wondered why on earth Keye Luke was in a Mr. Moto movie, still playing Charlie Chan’s Number One son….

Keye Luke

I always loved Keye Luke because he reminded me so much of my first husband, Chong Foun Kee. They looked quite similar and had similar characteristics. Both good-looking and super friendly…

Anyway. It was quite a successful google expedition. I learned all kinds of interesting stuff!

I’m also making great progress in studying my French on the Mondly app. It’s quite fun and I’m actually learning stuff, even after 52 years of “studying” French…

On another topic altogether, the Nick Cave exhibit in Copenhagen, Stranger Than Kindness, has officially announced the re-scheduled opening date: June 20th and it will run until February 13, 2021!!  Details are here.

So that’s exciting! The world really is getting back to normal.

And on that great note, I guess I’d better get started around here.

I hope you have a good day, wherever you are in the world.  I hope all your perceptions are spot-on and you don’t drive yourself crazy on this happy Thursday.  I leave you with my breakfast-listening music — John Lee Hooker singing his hit “Boom Boom” from 1962. Such a sexy song. It hasn’t aged a bit. All righty, enjoy! Thanks for visiting, gang. I love love you guys. See ya.

Boom Boom

Boom, boom, boom, boom
I’m gonna shoot you right down
Right off your feet
Take you home with me
Put you in my house
Boom, boom, boom, boom
Mmmm hmmm
Mm hm hm hm

I love to see you walk
Up and down the floor
When you talking to me
That baby talk
I like it like that
You talk like that
You knock me dead
Right off my feet
A haw haw haw haw
Whoa!

Once you walk that walk
And talk that talk
And whisper in my ear
Tell me that you love me
I love that talk
That baby talk
You knock me dead
Right off my feet
A haw haw haw haw
Yeah, yeah!

© 1962 John Lee Hooker

Wow!! Another Splendid Day!!

Yes, I’m just hanging out here in Crazeysburg with my cock  rooster today!! What could be better –right, gang??!! It’s going to be another really gorgeous day.

Okay, well. Yesterday, as gorgeous as it also was, was an adventure in gardening, so I never got back here to post again. I was too exhausted.

I went to town early, in order to get my groceries and then to get the flowers for the summer —  but apparently this pandemic has made it next to impossible to get impatiens, which is my preferred flower for the boxes & planters on the porches, because they bloom like crazy, all summer long, and they require no maintenance except for watering.

Well, there were no impatiens at all — none, zippo, zero. So I had to load up on my second preference, which they did have– petunias. They require a little bit more maintenance, but not much, and at least they bloom all summer long, too.

But by the time I got everything home, even though it was only 10am, it was already in the mid-80s Fahrenheit. Just super sunny and super hot.  And I had bought 42 plants that needed to be replanted into 9 flower boxes and planters. But because of the intense heat, I was exhausted by 10:03am…

However, I carried on. Plus!! I have a toad this year!! I discovered him last week, when I was raking that enormous pile of leaves outside my back door.  He came hopping out of the leaves, startled me, and then delighted me, and then went over and sat closer to the house and watched me rake for quite a while.

Well, yesterday, it looked like the very same toad, but I honestly have no clue if it was or wasn’t. However, there he suddenly was, on the kitchen porch, right in the middle of all my gardening stuff, hopping around in the shade of all the many new flowers that were waiting to be re-planted.

He stayed on the porch with me for really quite a while. I chattered at him and asked him all kinds of questions while I worked, but he was cagey and answered none of them.

Mr. Toad , Beatrix Potter | Beatrix potter, Beatrice potter ...

Eventually, he hopped off the other end of the porch and went his happy way, but it was really nice having him to talk to. (Or at least to look at. Although for much of the time, he was motionless and just staring at me while I talked to him — so, it actually made it seem like he was listening to me!! Which was so nice!!) (My cats pretend like they’re listening to me when I chatter at them all day long, but they know that if they just look at me patiently for at least a moment, I will eventually leave them alone and go away!!)

It seemed like it took forever for me to get the flowers planted. People were texting me and the phone was ringing and I had to keep getting things to drink because it was inching up toward the 90s and I was sweating like crazy. And then I was hungry. And then I was exhausted again. And on and on. And then, by around 1pm, I ran out of potting soil and I only had one planter left to do!! But I had to drop everything, get back into my car and drive back into town!!

Yes, another 25 mile trip (each way)!! Except that on this trip, I was all sweaty and dusted with potting soil from head to toe.

Luckily, halfway to town, I remembered that there is a really big gardening center along Highway 16. I don’t ever shop there because they’re privately owned and very expensive. But all I needed was one bag of organic potting soil, so I stopped there and went inside and got my potting soil and wished that I could afford to shop there more often because they have such great garden stuff!!

And you can tell they’re privately owned because they have uplifting Scripture from the Bible printed on large banners and hung on the wall by the check-out. Which means they’re Christian and hold Christian values and they want you to know that your patronage is practically sacred to them. Publicly-owned stores nowadays would never risk publicly displaying Christian values. Atheists will write many, many angry letters to try to shame you for it. (If you’re privately owned, you can just advise the Atheists to shop elsewhere and keep on keeping on…)

Anyway!!

So, by the time I got the final planter finished, and swept off the porch and had everything watered and all cleaned up, and then took a shower and got all the potting soil washed off of myself — it was 5 hours, total. And it was really hot, outside and inside, and I was just unbelievably exhausted.

But the flowers got done! And I was happy. Summer can now begin!!

And then, because of something someone had posted on Instagram yesterday afternoon, I felt like watching that movie, Billy Elliot– the original one; not the new musical version, which I haven’t seen yet.

So, after dinner, I streamed Billy Elliot at the kitchen table and all the flowers were on the porch there, and the kitchen door was open as were all the windows, and the world was beautiful and I  had the most wonderful evening. And I could not believe that Billy Elliot came out in 2001 and is 19 years old already. I could remember, plain as day, sitting in a movie theater in NYC — I was still married. With no thoughts whatsoever of ever leaving New York.

It is just scary, gang — where does the time go??!! Honestly!

Okay, well, today is going to be about making more progress with Letter #8 for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse. Then tomorrow, Peitor and I are supposed to get back on schedule with Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff. He has another producer on board now who can better advise us about budgets for short subject films. So that’s exciting!

And this morning, Nick Cave sent out another Red Hand Files letter where he talks about the personality, or mindset, of creative people (that’s sort of putting it in a nutshell).  I totally related to what he said. You can read it and decide for yourself at the link there.

And on that happy note!! I’m gonna close this and reply to the 5 texts I have gotten in the past 20 minutes… And then get down to work here!!

Have a great Wednesday, wherever you are in the world, gang!! Thanks for visiting. I had forgotten that T.Rex’s original version of “Cosmic Dancer” starts off the Billy Elliot movie (in such a glorious way, too). So, even though I streamed the re-mastered version of T. Rex’s Electric Warrior as I drifted off to sleep last night, I’m gonna close this with Nick Cave’s version of “Cosmic Dancer” again, which I just love — and which is available now for purchase, gang, wherever you buy your music!! All righty. Enjoy. I love you guys. See ya.

 

Who Knew I’d Turn to Ronnie Wood for Serenity??!!

If you don’t know who Ronnie Wood is, he’s a guitar player who’s been a member of the Rolling Stones since the mid-1970s, and was a member of the British group, The Small Faces, & then just The Faces, with Rod Stewart, before that.  He ‘s had a life-long reputation for being intensely “fun loving” (drugs, alcohol, high energy, funny). But several years back, he became clean & sober.  And now, on Instagram, during this pandemic, he frequently posts little videos for other members of AA or NA about serenity and taking it one day at a time.

I’m not in any type of substance-abuse healing program, but I have always been a huge fan of Ron Wood’s so I enjoy watching his little videos. And I think it’s just so sweet (I honestly do) — you know, all these years later, this frenetic rock & roll guitar player is helping us find serenity…

Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood, 1980 – LA MAISON REBELLE
Keith Richards & Ronnie Wood, pre-serenity…

All righty!!

Well, guess who has inadvertently signed up for another year of the Mondly app?? Yes, that (really fun) app that was teaching me Italian for about 9 months, until I gave up on ever learning Italian in this life time!! (And as it turned out, the writer’s retreat, that I was supposed to be hosting in Italy this Spring…. well.)

So, yes!! The Mondly app auto-renewed itself because I wasn’t paying attention, even though I was actually looking at the app icon on my phone the other day, and really missing it. And sort of wishing that I hadn’t let the app expire…

Good news!! I didn’t….

Yeah, well. Actually, I thought that was kind of cool when I saw it on my bank statement, even though I wasn’t expecting it. But I don’t think I’m going to try to keep studying Italian, because I just don’t seem to have a head for it. I suppose I could go back to studying French and really try to learn conversational French, instead of that sort of  “formal business letter-writing French” that I actually know.

But it sort of feels like a wide-open playing field right now. An entire year in front of me to study a foreign language! I’ve studied French for most of my life, do I still want to keep studying it? Through the course of my life, with varying results, I’ve studied German, Portuguese, Spanish, Mandarin Chinese, Biblical Hebrew, and, of course, Italian. And French is the language that I keep coming back to.  But I just don’t know.

Anyway, it’s kind of exciting to think about.

Well, yesterday was interesting. I did spend several hours with my friend Kevin, which was nice — and it was such a beautiful day here. But he is very depressed about all this COVID 19 stuff and how it’s changing everything and how pretty much every area of our lives now is up in the air.

I’m not sure why it doesn’t depress me, but it just doesn’t. (I guess Ronnie Wood has me feeling too serene…) Seriously, though. I just take everything one day at a time. We have no clue what’s ahead — it could wind up being just spectacular, once everything settles where it will and life moves forward for those of us who are still here.

So I tried to encourage him and make him feel better. After all, he’s taking off for Montana in a few days, and it’s so beautiful out there and he lives out there every year until October.

Then I did my grocery shopping, came back to Crazeysburg, called my dad and he announced that he’s not moving to Florida. He changed his mind. So that was very nice to hear — and totally unexpected.

Peitor also called to talk for 3 minutes about the sets he needs to build for our film shoot in the cinematographer’s studio in Alabama, and then he explained the idea he came up with to make it more affordable when we have to shoot on location in — Sweden (he’ll shoot in Paris if he has to, but he’d rather keep it authentic and shoot in Sweden).

(Yes, that’s right — on location in Sweden, or in Paris, if we absolutely have to, for an 8 minute film.)

And I’m, like, “Well, this all sounds really good, but we still need to get the budget together and see who’s paying for all this.” (In addition to everything imaginable involving the shoot, actors also have to be flown to and accommodated in Alabama and Sweden…)

It’s probably hard for you to imagine that I’m actually the level-headed one in the production company. Still, I do share his vision for perfection. I really do. And I do research everything, constantly. Just constantly. And I’ve taken 6 webinars already about the best way to approach this financially, from all angles.

So, we’ll be talking more at length about all of that today.

On another topic entirely….

I’ve had more time to listen to the new Bob Dylan song, “False Prophet.” I do like it — I like it better than “I Contain Multitudes,” but still, nothing comes close to “Murder Most Foul.”

Which unfortunately reminds me that a colleague in NYC and I were talking about “Murder Most Foul” back when it first came out, and he had the audacity to point out to me that Dylan was singing about Nat King Cole’s famous jazz song, “Nature Boy,” and not  Nick Cave’s song of the same name. And I was extremely crestfallen about that. Of course, I could see he was right about it, still. I guess love is not only blind, but deaf, as well. And in my mind, forever, it will still be Nick Cave’s song mentioned in “Murder Most Foul”…

Overall, though, that new Dylan album should be very interesting. (And his tours, of course, in support of the new album have now all been cancelled.) (Which makes me wonder, where does Bob Dylan actually live? He’s always, always, always on the road, in that unending tour he’s been doing for the last 20 years… I know he got another divorce at some point, so where does he live?? I’d assumed he just lived in some sort of monster bus. Hmm.)

Well, all righty. I guess that’s it for today. I’ve got work to do here. I hope you guys have a nice Thursday in front of you (or on it’s way out, depending on where in the world you live!). Thanks for visiting.  I leave you with my favorite Faces song, from 1973, Ronnie Wood was one of the writers on this great song — “Ooh La La,” from the album of the same name. (A song that never goes out of date, as it turns out, because those gosh darn women never change!) Enjoy and have a terrific day. I love you guys. See ya!!

“Ooh La La”

Poor old Granddad
I laughed at all his words
I thought he was a bitter man
He spoke of women’s ways

“They’ll trap you, then they use you
Before you even know
For love is blind and you’re far too kind
Don’t ever let it show”

I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was younger.
I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was stronger.

The Can Can’s such a pretty show
They’ll steal your heart away
But backstage, back on earth again
The dressing rooms are grey

They come on strong and it ain’t too long
Before they make you feel a man
But love is blind and you soon will find
You’re just a boy again

When you want her lips, you get a cheek
Makes you wonder where you are
If you want some more then she’s fast asleep
And leaves you twinkling with the stars.

“Poor young grandson, there’s nothing I can say
You’ll have to learn, just like me
And that’s the hardest way
Ooh la la”

I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was younger.
I wish that I knew what I know now
When I was stronger

© 1973 Ronnie Lane, Ronnie Wood

Yeah, Baby! More Laundry Than You Can Even Imagine!!

Seriously. Today is already SO MUCH BETTER than yesterday, that it can’t even be compared.

You know, like, what was yesterday, anyway? Some sort of strange partial reality, wedged into a dead-end probable universe or something?

It’s so weird, because today couldn’t be better, but I didn’t do anything different, really.  Except, I guess, to decide that today was simply going to have to be better.

Also, this is that first day of the gateway to summer. Weather-wise, it’s going to be a perfect day. Which means that windows will be open around here by this afternoon, and that always makes me so happy.

Right now, I’m doing all the bedding that needs to be washed and then stored away in the linen closet until Fall. That’s like, 5 loads of laundry. Just bedding, quilts, blankets, etc. And it really feels just so good to do that because it means that the whole house is soon going to be really airy and  sunny and of a summer-weight that always just feels lighter on my whole soul.

So!

NO!! Absolutely no work got done on Abstract Absurdity stuff yesterday, or on the cover design for The Guitar Hero Goes Home. Although I did at least chat with Valerie on the phone for about an hour, but it was not work-related. I was trying to sort through all my complicated feelings about my dad’s announcement that he’s moving to Florida (see post from yesterday).

That whole thing just triggered all these abandonment issues I didn’t realize I actually had — beginning with when he left us for good the summer I turned 13 (and not ending there, by any stretch) (how many times can my parents discard me, you know? It’s astounding). So much horrible shit came up in me yesterday, which I honestly did not know was there.

So Valerie and I talked about that and decided to have the work chat on Thursday, instead.

And today, I just feel worlds better. I honestly do.

Plus, Kevin is coming over this afternoon to drop off his vintage 1965 VW camper-van until Fall! Hard to believe it’s actually that time of year already. And I know he is eager to see the new roof on my barn!

It’s going to be so nice to see Kevin. I haven’t chatted in person with a human being that I actually know as a friend since March 14th. And then I’m going to drive him back into town and go get more groceries.  (Oddly enough, he lives 3 minutes from where I do my marketing. He can walk there from where he lives.) And it’s going to be perfect weather for driving 95 MPH on the highway here in Muskingum County today! Yay!!

I think this tai-chi idea that I had yesterday is going to be a really good idea. Tai-chi in the morning, yoga at night. And try not to have to do Booty Core again. I think it’s going to be a lot more relaxing for me. I don’t know why I am such a stressed-out individual. Well — I do know why. But I don’t know why I can’t just let it all go for good, you know?

And I’ve been letting it spill over into my writing lately, which I usually don’t do. The last few days, I’ve been feeling like I just can’t focus right now, and I hate that. And feeling like people are looking over my shoulder while I write — my mind getting super critical of me — and I really, REALLY hate that. But it seems like even a little bit of tai-chi yesterday helped that, so I’m hoping that by keeping it up for a little bit each morning, I can totally re-set myself and get back on track around here.

So, yes, that means my new routine will be to wake-up at 5am, go downstairs to feed the cats, feed myself, do my little Inner Being dialogue journal thing, then my little journal where I pre-pave my day into a positive direction so that I don’t become completely unglued before noon, then go back upstairs and meditate, and now add tai-chi — then post something to the blog and get my day underway. And that’s about a 5-hour chunk of time there — I’m not exaggerating. Have you ever known anyone who had to invest so much time into not losing her fucking mind every day?

Well. So far, it’s working. So I’m going to stick with it. I literally spent 11 straight years (2006 – 2017) on the verge of suicide every single day — and that is an absolutely exhausting way to sort of half-live, even though I was really productive in my work during those years. I wrote 2 novels, a ton of short stories and novellas, developed 2 TV series (still in “development” in LA), wrote an award-winning screenplay that placed well in half a dozen major screenplay competitions in Hollywood, and then developed two musical theater projects that are inching toward production as soon as the virus gets out of NYC — oh, and I went to Divinity School in the middle of all that and got a degree in Ministry (and got ordained, wherein I also took perhaps an ill-advised oath to never smoke again, or do recreational drugs, and only drink alcohol based on Biblical guidelines, which means wine, basically, but only wine that started out as water moments before…) (kidding about that last part; I can drink wine if I want to, but my point is, how the heck do I get rid of my stress??? Prayer, or some weird shit like that???).

Well. Anyway. I jest.

But I did a ton of fucking stuff while on the verge of suicide for 4, 015 straight days…

And I like my life a lot better now.  Those years were a nightmare, in all seriousness. So even if I have to get out of bed at 5am in order to have enough time to start my actual day when most everyone else is just starting their days, it’s worth it to me, so I’m just going to stick with it. And add the tai-chi.

So. I’m very, very excited about today. It’s so beautiful outside and I get to see Kevin today — and through some twist of fate my house is actually clean on the one and only day that a human being is coming over!! So all things considered, pandemic-wise, everything’s looking good around here.

I’m gonna go make a little more progress on that laundry now and, yes, get my day underway over here. Have a wonderful Wednesday, wherever you are in the world, gang!! Thanks for visiting. I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning — a song that millions of girls the world over believe that Tom Petty wrote just for them!! And I am no exception!!! “Wildflowers,” the titular song from his multi-platinum album from 1994, Wildflowers. It’s a beautiful song, gang. (And I know for sure that he knew I was going to eventually live out here in the peace and solitude of the Hinterlands and that’s why I know for sure that Tom Petty wrote this song specifically for me!!) All righty. I love you guys. Have a great day. See ya.

“Wildflowers”

You belong among the wildflowers
You belong in a boat out at sea
Sail away, kill off the hours
You belong somewhere you feel free

Run away, find you a lover
Go away somewhere all bright and new
I have seen no other
Who compares with you

You belong among the wildflowers
You belong in a boat out at sea
You belong with your love on your arm
You belong somewhere you feel free

Run away, go find a lover
Run away, let your heart be your guide
You deserve the deepest of cover
You belong in that home by and by

You belong among the wildflowers
You belong somewhere close to me
Far away from your trouble and worry
You belong somewhere you feel free
You belong somewhere you feel free

© 1994 – Tom Petty

Let’s Just Knock It Out of the Park Today!!

Okay?? Okay!!

We’re gonna make it a great day (because it’s kind of, like, sucking right now and I refuse to allow the whole darn day to be ruined) !!

It’s gorgeous here today. So sunny, it is amazing. Still too chilly & damp to rake leaves (darn it), but we’re getting there.

Okay, yesterday was weird. I waited all day for Peitor to call because we were supposed to work on Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff. And I also waited all day for Valerie to call, because we were going to work on the book cover design for The Guitar Hero Goes Home.

While waiting on everybody, hour upon hour, I did manage to get a bunch of housecleaning done.  Had my lunch. Had my dinner. Finally gave up on everyone at around 5:30pm, closed the laptop and decided to stream a movie down in the kitchen.

At that point, Peitor texted to say he could call me in about 2 hours… Meaning around 7:30pm my time (Eastern Time).

Even people who know me really well never seem to remember that I’m up and out of bed and starting my days at 5am.  By 7:30 at night, I’m not usually feeling like: All righty!! Let’s get started here!! You know? I’m starting to get contemplative and thinking about the Universe and the nature of reality and getting into a general “I wonder what it’s gonna feel like after I die” frame of mind. I’m way into my own zone.

And then Valerie texted at 8pm (and she’s even in my same time zone) to say that she’d lost track of the time…

So that was how work went yesterday. I’m feeling like something similar will happen today, but we’ll just see. I’m going to try to just focus on my own writing and not get into that mental space of waiting around on phone calls.

I also decided to release the experience of Booty Core from my life!! At least, for now. I just don’t like it. I decided that I want to maybe do tai-chi in the morning, and still do yoga in the evenings, and see if my hip joints do okay with that. And if they do, goodbye to Booty Core forever.

Mostly, I just can’t stand that curvy Booty Core look. I really can’t. And I have tried to be open-minded about it, embrace the possibility of a new physical shape, but I simply come from a whole other era. And I’d still rather look like I’ve been smoking and doing amphetamines all day than look like I’ve spent the whole day in the gym….

I’m just a 1970s kind of gal.

So.

The main thing that’s kind of playing with my head here this morning is that my dad announced (to me – although I think my stepsister already knew this) that he wants to move to Florida. Not only that, but he’s already looking at potential properties. and not only that, but I get the feeling that the thing he sent me in the mail last week — to choose which of his art pieces I was interested in having in the event of his death or in case he had to downsize and go into a nursing home — was actually part of his wanting to move to Florida but he hadn’t said it yet.

Plus, he wants to move to northern Florida which is sort of a weird part of Florida to want to move to when you’re 90, so it makes me think he wants to live closer to my stepsister and her husband and their kids. He has always had a really good relationship with them, and also I think it would help him feel like my stepmom was still in his life in some way.  To have that part of “his family” closer to him again now that she’s gone.

I honestly don’t believe that anybody owes anyone anything in life. I mean, ideally, I have a way I would love life to be. But still, I believe it all comes down to choices. Making choices that have value to us, individually, and not based on what we might think we “owe” people, because we just have our lives to live, you know? And if they aren’t meaningful lives, then being here, living something meaningless, helps no one.

So I don’t really feel I have anything I can really say about this.  He’ll be 90 in a handful of weeks. He should live a life that makes him happy. I honestly believe that, and I’ve always tried my best to accept that his being happy didn’t usually involve me. You just can’t force things, right? What is the point in that?

Even though it makes me really sad — it makes me feel defeated more than anything else — I just don’t want that to set the tone for my entire day today.  I am trying to get into a better place about it.  So we’ll see how that goes.

Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand Files letter- thingy this morning that was very interesting. About one of his songs that I love (“Night raid”), and a specific song lyric that has put in a number of appearances in other things he’s written over the years and I guess — if he dies, like, today — it will be on his tombstone, too. And he also talked about the overall plans for Bad Seed TeeVee, which continues to expand and blossom into all kinds of videos clips — not just songs but interviews and all kinds of stuff.

Okay, I’m gonna do some tai-chi here and see if that transcends my morning into something way more productive than, I don’t know, thoughts of suicide, I guess.

I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from today — which is usually a song I play when I am thinking about committing suicide. But I do not believe he intended this song to be used for that!

I’ve posted this song here a bunch of times — Tom Petty’s song “Only A Broken Heart” from his wildly multi-platinum album, Wildflowers, from 1994. Even though he wrote this song because he was wanting to divorce his first wife and couldn’t figure out how to do that — and even though when he finally did figure out how to do that, it destroyed him for awhile, turning him into a reclusive heroin addict, etc. (and the creator of the album Echo (1999) — an intensely beautiful but very difficult album to listen to). His decision did eventually open up his whole life, and made it possible for him and his second wife, Dana, to fall in love and get married and enabled him to write probably his most accomplished songs/albums in his 40-year career.

So. The point is not to focus on how terrible things feel today, but focus more on how change can open up all sorts of amazing possibilities down the road. It’s just that maybe you can’t see it just yet. (Meaning “me”, of course — not necessarily “you”.)

With that in mind, have a good Tuesday, wherever it finds you, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang! I love you. So much. See ya.

“Only A Broken Heart”

Here comes that feeling I’ve seen in your eyes
Back in the old days, before the hard times
But I’m not afraid anymore
It’s only a broken heart

I know the place where you keep your secrets
Out of the sunshine, down in a valley
But I’m not afraid anymore
It’s only a broken heart

What would I give, to start all over again
To clean up my mistakes

Stand in the moonlight, stand under heaven
Wait for an answer, hold out forever
But don’t be afraid anymore
It’s only a broken heart

What would I give, to start all over again
To clean up my mistakes

I know your weakness, you’ve seen my dark side
The end of the rainbow is always a long ride
But I’m not afraid anymore
It’s only a broken heart

© 1994 Tom Petty

Me, Around the House!!

No, I’m serious! Look :

Just one of the many delights of my kitchen!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of course, I don’t bake anymore because I live alone now and would just eat everything all by myself and then be as big as — if not bigger than — my whole house.

But I used to be a really good baker.

In fact, back when I worked at the Museum of Modern Art in NYC in my 20s, for a while I was the assistant to the Pastry Chef there. And I also slept with the Pastry Chef there. Although I don’t recall that either one of us ever actually slept… And while sexual activities between employees was rampant there (as well as among the guests of the museum — frequently the guests would have sex in the bathroom stalls there during various sunny afternoons), it was still technically frowned upon by the boring fuddy-duddy Management and Security personnel. And so she (the Pastry Chef was a ‘she’) used to say this thing that still cracks me up . If/when we were screwing around somewhere in maybe a storage room in the bowels of that heady museum, and it seemed like some sort of “Boss” type person was coming, she’d get her shit together very quickly and say, “Watch it. Furtive lurkers are about.”

That always made me laugh so hard. We never got caught at anything, but we always looked like we were up to something. (Management there loved her, though, but most of the Management did not love me. I was opinionated, outspoken, and the Shop Steward for the Local Union there.) (Still — since it was the 1980s and Manhattan was still incredibly wonderful, she and I would take our break together at the bar next door to the museum, drink as heavily and as quickly as we could, fool around in the bathroom stall at the bar, and then light up our cigarettes and head back for Round 2 at the museum!)

Anyway!! Yes!! I digress!!

I am not baking anything here today, but we did get a colossal wind storm here last evening and some of the siding blew off from around my kitchen window, so I’ve already been out there with a ladder, a hammer and some nails, and got everything back in place.

(And if I had a ladder that was ten times as tall, I would clean out my gutters, too. But alas, I don’t have that kind of a ladder. Plus, I’m afraid of heights…)

It’s a good thing the roof on my barn was already fixed last week because that wind yesterday would have blown the rest of the roof right off it. The winds were at 65 MPH.

Even though it’s overcast here today and cool, it looks like it is going to be the last one of these types of days — by mid-week, we go up into the 70s Fahrenheit and beyond. So it will really be Spring and I can start cleaning up the yard and the porches and get the flowers planted in their flower boxes and clean up the porch furniture and just get ready for, hopefully, the best Summer ever.

Okay, today is an Abstract Absurdity Productions day! Peitor should be calling here later on. And then hopefully I’ll also be doing some more work over the phone with Valerie in Brooklyn regarding the book cover layout for The Guitar Hero Goes Home. And other than that, I’m just planning on writing and editing at my desk today. So it should be a nice day.

I hope you guys have a great Monday, wherever you are in the world!  Thanks for visiting, gang. I have no breakfast-listening music from this morning, but I leave you with this! It cracks me up. I wrote about this a couple weeks ago after watching it on TikTok: Tyler Jarry’s “Dads talking about the weather.” It’s so perfect. (In my life, anyway. This is just totally my dad.) Okay. Enjoy! Have a wonderful day. I love you guys. See ya!