Tag: memories

Hump Day Happy–Early Edition

I was sitting on the front porch Tuesday afternoon after I dropped all the rose petals into the flower bed. I was thinking about John Lennon and Riley and their eternal connection in my heart while I sang to the dogs. The dogs LOVE it when I do this; in their excitement, they run to distant corners of The Compound, probably hoping I’ll sing even more loudly so the world can share in the thrill of it all.

I wasn’t singing a John Lennon or even a Beatles song, but one of my favorite Neil Young songs, “Birds.” I was sad, and it occurred to me how one of Riley’s gifts was that no matter how crazy awful our lives were (and 1980 delivered a ton of crazy awful), he could always make me laugh. As I sang, I remembered Riley telling me a story about a day he was sitting on his front porch, singing and playing his guitar. He was working on a song of his called “I Saw the Light” about the rotten luck of his alter ego, the Mysterious Vagabond Poet. Each time the MVP thought his life was taking a turn for the better, another awful thing would happen. And as Riley sang, he suddenly realized that across the street, his neighbors were sitting on their front porch and laughing their butts off. That’s when he knew he’d accomplished what he wanted to with the lyrics: He’d taken all the crazy awful and made it funny. He came to my house a couple of days later to make sure the song would get the same reaction from me. Remembering how I laughed back then gave me a much welcomed lift.

And then came magic.

And so this is Christmas…

Image taken from the Internet.

Some years this date passes by without my commenting on it. This is not one of those years. I really miss my friend Riley and think of him on this day as I have every year since 1980.

Though I joked around a little about her in A Coventry Wedding, I’ve never been one to disparage Yoko Ono. In fact, I admire her tremendously. She’s always been forthright and true to herself as an artist. Two things I love about her work are the Yoko Ono Wish Tree and the Imagine Peace Tower, a beacon of light that will shine through midnight tonight in Iceland, as it does each year from John Lennon’s birthday on October 9 until the anniversary of his death–today, December 8.

In memory of Riley and John Lennon, I created my own little wish for peace in rose petals. After I photographed it, I left it, though I was sure the dogs would plow through it before either Tim or Tom could see it. Instead, all four dogs and the puppy have stepped around it, and it’s still there hours later. Never underestimate the wisdom of dogs.

On a less somber note, happy birthday to Famous Author Rob Byrnes and our mutual friend Byrne.

Next week: slide show of our family vacations

The other night I dragged out my first grade class photo and forced everyone to look at it (“everyone” in that case being Tom, Tim, Rhonda, Lindsey, and Kathy S, as opposed to the “everyone” who comprises my readership here on LJ–your turn!).

Tim noted that the way we’re posed, we all look like we’re handcuffed. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that we all actually were handcuffed. In the old days (thirtyish years ago!), they didn’t coddle six-year-olds.

The next year, there would be no class photo, because that would have brought our work to a halt at the munitions factory.

I KID!

It was a cannery.

World AIDS Day, December 1

World AIDS Day was first recognized in 1988 and has become a day to raise money and awareness, fight prejudice against those with HIV/AIDS, and improve education about the virus. The World AIDS Day theme for 2009 is “Universal Access and Human Rights.”

According to UNAIDS estimates, there are now 33.4 million people living with HIV, including 2.1 million children. During 2008, approximately 2.7 million people became newly infected with the virus and an estimated two million people died from illnesses caused by AIDS.

Around half of all people who become infected with HIV do so before they are 25 and are killed by AIDS before they are 35. HIV hasn’t gone away, and there’s still a lot of work to be done toward its management and eradication. The red ribbon pin in this post’s user photo sits on the window ledge in front of me to remind me of that every day.

Each time I put on my jewelry, I wear my Until There’s A Cure bracelet in honor of the beautiful friends I’ve lost because of AIDS. Not a single day of my life goes by that I don’t think of them.

I was so fortunate to have known them.

Steve R, Don P, Jeff C, John M, Tim R, Pete M

I think continually of those who were truly great


I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who from the womb, remembered the soul’s history
Through corridors of light where the hours are suns,
Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition
Was that their lips, still touched with fire,
Should tell of the Spirit clothed from head to foot in song.
And who hoarded from the Spring branches
The desires falling across their bodies like blossoms.

What is precious is never to forget
The essential delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs
Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth.
Never to deny its pleasure in the morning simple light
Nor its grave evening demand for love.
Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother
With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.

Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields
See how these names are feted by the waving grass
And by the streamers of white cloud
And whispers of wind in the listening sky.
The names of those who in their lives fought for life
Who wore at their hearts the fire’s center.
Born of the sun they traveled a short while towards the sun,
And left the vivid air signed with their honour.

Stephen Spender

Photos 1996, my personal archives

Photo Friday, No. 171

Current Photo Friday theme: Softness

Back in the 1990s, my friend Big Hair Lisa and I went into a grocery store late one night. It must have been near Valentine’s Day, because all these red bears were posed among the flowers in their floral department. I picked up this one and fell in love with him because he was the softest thing I’d ever held. Lisa took him away from me, paid for him, and gave him back.

Recently on a daytime drama I watch, a couple exchanging wedding vows promised to be each other’s “soft place when you fall.” Lisa, like me, is a steel magnolia. But many times when I’ve fallen, she’s provided that soft place of friendship and unconditional love.

A soft heart is the most beautiful place I know.

Child of the Advertising Age

This is one of the first advertising jingles I remember. It made such an impression that when my parents came home with a new Chrysler, I cried.

Ultimately, my mother came to believe the Chrysler hated her. Ha. Should have bought a Chevrolet.

The first commercial that TOOK ADVANTAGE OF ME was this one.

I don’t regret getting my Twist ‘N Turn Barbie, but oh, how I wish Mattel hadn’t enticed me to trade in my original ponytail Barbie. Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!