Tag: photos

Silly Love Songs

Today, as Marika pointed out to me, is Paul McCartney’s birthday. I’ve made no secret on LJ of how much the Beatles and their music mean to me, so I won’t revisit that today, though I do wish Paul a happy sixty-sixth. I celebrate the life of this man who has so impacted our world with what he calls his “silly love songs”–not just because of the music itself, which would be enough, but the way that music has given him money and prestige he often uses to help heal our planet and its inhabitants.

It’s actually not one of Sir Paul’s silly love songs that has been on my mind. Yesterday, when reading that old entry about Tim’s art and writing bad poetry in response to MGH’s challenge, I could not get Chicago’s “Colour My World” out of my brain. I finally just had to go buy and download the damn thing so I could wallow in memories. (You, however, can listen to it for free courtesy of youtube.)

I suppose I was a bit of a Chicago fan, probably in part because of a surprise party Lynne gave me on what I think was my fifteenth birthday. I still have decorations from that party as well as vivid memories of some of the people there–Lynne, of course, and Susie and Gale and Tim G. and Riley, among others. Bonus photo from among my very favorites:


Tim G. and Riley looking like poster teens for illegal drugs and underage drinking.

At that birthday party, Alan I., who I barely knew, gave me a DOUBLE Chicago album, which was almost like going steady if I hadn’t already been Tim’s girlfriend and one of Riley’s obsessions. I remember the party as among the last of the happy times, because it wasn’t long after that when my parents moved us to a smaller town and yanked me into another school (to get me away from the poster teens for illegal drugs and underage drinking).

Since my parents had promised, SWORN, that they would never make me change schools again–thereby luring me to form real, lasting friendships for the first time in my life–I was one very angry teenager. That’s why they came up with The Bribe:

A piano and piano lessons. The first thing I did on the piano was painstakingly teach myself how to play “Colour My World.” I’m sure hearing that a thousand times a day made Bill and Dorothy sincerely regret The Bribe, but as they say, payback is hell.

I never progressed beyond the simplest music with my piano lessons. “Colour My World” would be played at my first wedding, and four years later, after my divorce, selling that piano (with my parents’ okay) brought me some much needed cash. Eventually, I would give my complete collection of Chicago albums, even the one from Alan, to Ed D., who sang at my second wedding twenty years ago today.

This has been a year of great loss for me–Riley and my mother–and I am having some rough moments. Still, I know that I will be okay because of silly love songs and all the people who color my world with hope and love. Thank you–and happy anniversary, Tom.

for my reference, previous posts about Riley

the charm of a book that apologizes for itself

When enjoying David Puterbaugh’s last post about summer reading as part of his MFA program, I started thinking about my current yearning for escapist reading.

I’m not a snob when it comes to novels–I will forgive authors much if they give me engaging characters–but when I need to escape, I’m less inclined to turn to light reading than to that hotly debated term: literary writing. I want language to cast its spell. I want to fall for words and how they’re put together. Most popular fiction–my own included–often neglects language for story.

Some of you may remember Greg’s mentioning that during one of his visits to The Compound, he had a chance to pick up some books from a personal library. That was my mother’s collection, and I was grateful for Greg’s discretion, in fact, the discretion of all my friends who respected my family’s privacy over the past few months. During that visit, along with making me laugh and continuing our ongoing conversation about writing, Greg also helped move furniture. He didn’t do it for any reason but friendship; nonetheless, I wish we’d had more books for him to choose from. Over the years, my mother had already given her children most of the novels we wanted and held on mainly to her comfort reads. There were a few literary classics left which I used to replace some of my college paperbacks, and some old first editions of books that she wanted my brother to have.

Somewhere in the sorting, I found a book I’d never noticed before. Here’s the order in which I examined it.

as if you were there

Headache, Day 3

I just took medication for my headache because I thought it would be wonderful to crawl back into bed in my darkened, cool room and sleep all day. Then I realized it’s June 5, and I was supposed to get my car inspected in May.

I have to leave the house.

I hate wasting a good pill like that.

Subject change: My sister thinks my dogs are too thin. I just think in the never-too-rich-or-too-thin department, my dogs chose looking fabulous over accruing wealth–much like my writing partner. However, I approved Debby’s promise to take them to Wendy’s for a cheeseburger even though the meat would be cooked, not raw.

In the end, she actually brought Wendy’s bacon cheeseburgers (hold the onions!) to them. This is what happened.

cheeseburger in paradise

Hump Day Happy–and some New Orleans photos

I won’t be able to scurry around town snapping photos today, but if you want one of 14,000 things to be happy about from this book:

 

 

just comment with a page number from 1 to 612 and another number between 1 and 30.

While you’re waiting for me to consult the book, you might enjoy some more New Orleans photos.

Last year, David and Shannon were walking through the Quarter when David noticed the Place d’Armes Hotel. David thought it looked like a promising place to stay. When everyone got back home, Shannon called and got information about the hotel and arranged a block of rooms with special rates. Although it ended up that Shannon wasn’t able to go to Saints and Sinners this year, David, ‘Nathan, and Lisa booked rooms at the Place d’Armes. Since all their rooms are non-smoking, Mark, Timothy, Rob, and I figured we’d stay in smoking rooms at the festival’s host hotel, the Bourbon Orleans. Unfortunately for the smokers among us, without warning, the Bourbon Orleans went all non-smoking on May 1.

Both places have plenty of features to recommend them. Both are in great locations. The Bourbon Orleans is convenient for the festival, has nice rooms, and has a gorgeous courtyard with a sparkling pool. I only saw Lisa’s room at the Place d’Armes, but it was spacious and charming. The Place d’Armes pool didn’t seem as clean, but the courtyards are lush. Especially good for us was that the courtyards didn’t close at ten p.m. as the courtyard does at the Bourbon Orleans. So Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, after meetings and parties and meals, a few of us gathered around the pool area at the Place d’Armes and talked (and smoked, because that’s okay outside), and enjoyed our sport of the weekend: Tormenting David Puterbaugh.

these are some of those late-night photos

The post with nudity!


Wagon O’ Dogs. Margot, Sparky, Rex, Guinness, and Minute

On the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, Lynne came over and worked herself, Tom, and Tim to exhaustion on The Compound grounds. In addition to photographing dogs in Lynne’s gardening wagon (which I like so much that I put it in A COVENTRY WEDDING), I baked a couple of cakes that Lynne needed to decorate for some graduates, visited my mother, and dashed into Michael’s for paper to cover Lynne’s cake boards. (In other words, I shirked anything that would make me get dirty, sweat, or strain my back.)

Whenever I’m in the Wilton cake decorating section, I can’t resist looking at cake pans. This time, I spotted one that I knew I had to have for Edward Ladybughands. This is what the cake looked like after I finished it.

cakes, friends, and food fights