Mama, But Weer All Crazee Now- SLADE

The Sunday Morning Muse, August 10, 2008

Leading up to the start of the Olympics there were a lot of negative news stories about Beijing. The pollution, the closed factories, the displaced families after places were torn down to make room for new buildings, the hardship of the countryfolk who must conserve water to make it available for Beijing.
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I caught myself giving in to the negative. Sheesh. Why would anybody pick Beijing
to host the Olympics? Then, when I heard about surface to air missles on standby...just in case.... the old terrorism fear starting... creeping into my imagination. Maybe this wasn't a "safe" choice.
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But then I watched the Opening Ceremonies. A perfect 10. Amazing. Stupendous. A creative balance of present and past. A triumph of the blending of high technology with the talents of thousands of people performing out of love of their country. And they performed with honor and respect and courtesy for all their guests. It truly was a coming out party for China. A billion people strong.
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It made me.... hopeful somehow. After all the negative images we have seen, stories of incredible hardship, government crackdowns, the treatment of Tibet, etc. All that faded away for a moment, and I retreated to the wonder of it all, and of course the beauty. It was like discovering that the bully down the block has a butterfly collection.

Incase You Missed This. . . Go Paris!

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

Laurie Anderson Says. . .

When love is gone, there's always justice. And when justice is gone, there's always force. And when force is gone, there's always Mom. Hi, Mom!

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Laurie Anderson (Oh Superman)

Back on the Chain Gang

I've always wanted to sing like Chrissie Hynde.There's just something...I don't know...earthy and honest about her. (THINK: pretty much the opposite of everyone you hear out there today. Nothing staged or fake.)

Did you know she was born in Akron, Ohio? She went to Kent State...and was there during the infamous shootings according to Wikipedia.
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"LIKE A BREAK IN THE BATTLE WAS YOUR PART, OH OH OH OH
IN THE WRETCHED LIFE OF A LONELY HEART."

The Sunday Morning Muse, August 3, 2008

This morning's muse: August
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The local corn is ready. Vegetable stands are popping up around town with fresh tomatoes, peppers, cukes. Fresh peaches. Amish children with straw hats on the corner.
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There's a whole aisle of school supplies in most stores. Fall sweaters for sale. The clouds are starting to look different. Puffier. (Oh no-not fall just yet!) The sky is brilliant blue.
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The lilies are starting to die. (But I still got some nice pictures.) I bought mums for the front of the house. Sunflowers are looking great. The grass doesn't need cut as often. Butter flies and honeybees. Hummingbirds and crows. (And a three and half foot snake crawled into my garage yesterday, after getting sun in the street.)
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Road crews and detours. The smell of tar and asphalt. Orange barrel capital of the world. Lots of motorcycles out. Concerts in the park. People washing cars. Yard sales.
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Sitting on porches, drinking beer. Kids in pools. Lemonade.
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Get out and enjoy it while it lasts.

Kelly Bundy, Car Model

I read this morning that actress Christina Applegate was diagnosed with breast cancer. They caught it in the early stages. She will forever be Kelly Bundy. I love this clip of her trying out for a modeling gig at a car show.

Smoke on the Water

Machine Head. Didn't everybody have this album?

Annie Dillard Says. . .

"Because how we spend our days, of course, is how we spend our lives." -Annie Dillard

A Friday Evening Muse

I lost a bar a few years ago and never found another that felt quite the same. In the grand scheme of things, maybe this doesn't seem important, but then in some ways it really was. I took it for granted back then. It was a nice Italian place.The owners were always there to greet you, and on Fridays the regular crowd was treated to free Pasta Fagioli from a big pot on a table at the end of the bar. For some of us that was dinner on Fridays. Oh some nights we'd order real sandwiches or a plate of pasta, fried zucchini, fried eggplant.. but I digress.
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What really made it special wasn't just the food. It was the feeling that you could walk in and just know that in awhile someone else would be there you knew, or the owners would stop by to chat or let you try a bit of their homemade wine. Sometimes we'd catch up on gossip or talk about the new play in town or local politics. Then a bunch would go sit out on the patio and just watch the sun go down and take in the night breeze. The bar was right next to the Playhouse, so Friday nights brought in a variety of people-- actors and actresses, the stage crew, people in from out of town to watch the show, etc. The "regulars" consisted of a diverse group of all ages and walks of life--the political bigwigs, a very friendly and talkative group of social workers who came after work, a couple of local radio personalities, musicians, a few local eccentrics (one who claimed to have been at Woodstock), and even some people who were almost quite literally "on the street." The place reflected the community.
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When the owners had to sell the bar, the crowd went their separate ways. I remember the "last" sort of normal Friday night there when people started "lobbying" for the next bar. But it was useless. The gang split up. Fractured. Dissipated. Never was the same. Thinking about it, we were never really a "gang" of people. Few of us really saw each other outside of Friday nights at the bar. Occasionally I see a few familiar faces from back then, when I'm out at other bars now. A smile, a wave here or there. . .
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But there's no more free Pasta Fagioli on Friday night.