Still working the scanner like a fiend, trying to post photos in chronological order (but we'll see how long that lasts). This gallery is in a similar time and place, 1951-1956 in Arizona. This is an event held annually in Wickenburg AZ (small community about 60-odd miles out of Phoenix) called "Gold Rush Days." It's very cowboy-themed! See the video below (video not mine) shot in 1958... as close to it as I have found. I love seeing all these folks decked out in their 50s best (I think it will enlarge if clicked), and the rest of the shots of cowboys and cheesy floats.
In other news, the weather is FINALLY cooling off, still warm enough to call summer up further north, but feeling less like an oven. We spent Tuesday night of this week attending the Austin City Limits TV taping of Neko Case - who has a haunting voice like no other. She spent some time in Tucson AZ herself (recording an album), her father was in the Air Force (like mine), and told the story during the show of have a stuffed iguana as a kid - not a plush toy but a real dead iguana with painted teeth, stuffed with cotton and (I'm sure) wires... this was funny to hear for me because when I was a kid I had a similar companion -- a stuffed baby alligator (or possibly a crocodile) named Kilroy. Parents can make strange choices sometimes.
Waving helloooo after a long absence from the Oasis here. I miss it. Facebook drives me crazy sometimes, but also wears me out because it's constantly updating. Anyway, I am up to a lot of my usual activities, going to hear live music once or twice a week, almost too much to list except to make note of attending the Dawes Austin City Limits taping a day after my 60th birthday (OUCH).
I've also been keeping myself busy with the great historical photo and letter sorting project. Great progress, and have been keeping the scanner going. I have cleaned up my old Flickr account and am going to try and post as much as possible there. The first set is of a racetrack in Arizona where my dad worked as a side job in the pit crew for one of the drivers. I love seeing the way people people used to dress! Manzanita Speedway
All Hail the Autumn seasonal change!
Will be checking in and browsing around when I get the chance.
Hello! Yes, I know, I have not posted for awhile. Still keeping very busy between working and weekends, but generally facebooking things instead of blogging. I even missed my 8th Blogiversary announcement on May 6! Shame on me for that. Let's see what's happened...
Live music from late April forward: plenty! Saw mandolin virtuoso Chris Thile & jazz pianist Brad Mehldau in the proper vintage theatre setting of the Paramount. Saw local sensational songstress Patty Griffin play free at Waterloo Records (without Robert Plant, her companion and musical cohort, who shows up from time to time). Saw local (via Australia) high-energy progressive acoustic favorites and friends The Greencards at Threadgill's. Went to "Jazz in Bastrop," and annual charity event featuring my favorite guitarist Eric Johnson. He played a magnificent set (whether or not it is jazz could be an all-night discussion) with his regular band of Wayne Salzmann on drums and Chris Maresh on bass. Opening for him was Rick McRae (who tours with George Strait) along with Eric Hokkanen and several others playing red-hot swing-jazz. Great stuff, and on a perfectly beautiful, balmy night, and in the country next to a lake where between sets of music and applause you literally heard the sound of crickets. The following week we saw Eric Johnson again, sitting in for a few at Van Wilks birthday concert along with Christopher Cross. That one was a blast. We love Van, he is a great guitarist and a friend. The next day it was Rick McRae (again) and Denny Freeman, free in the rotunda of the Texas History Museum. Denny did some time as Bob Dylan's touring guitar player and is now back in Austin. He is amazing. Also seen last week - our beloved Band of Heathens. It had been too long since we'd seen them.
In other news, we got rain. Glorious rain, flashing the drought a middle finger for a least a few days. These photos are from the front yard, which is occupied by a hundred snails.
Coming soon, some good news on the home front. It involves a kitty. Stay tuned.
Lovely, isn't it? I had a ganglion cyst removed from the top of my foot this morning. It's a returned problem from about 15 years ago when I had the very same thing done to the very same spot - then about a year ago it returned and has been limiting my activities (things that require a lot of walking or standing). I've got Vicodin for pain, and it's working so far. Hopefully this time the damn thing will stay gone.
This was my favorite TV show as a kid. I also loved The Liberace Show.
There were lots of shows on where you'd get to watch people dancing. The music was great too. Late at night, there was only a test pattern on.
These were my heroes as a pre-teen. I kept scrapbooks of clippings about them. I met Alan Shepard as an adult (during his book tour) and he signed my old LIFE magazine with him on the cover.
I witnessed these events on live TV. What an emotional roller-coaster!
This guy on the right held me in his arms onstage. Toddlers are hard to resist. About 12 years later we met him again, and when my mother asked if he remembered it, he nicely lied and said that he did. I got to see the guy below, on the left, when he looked like the picture on the right.
My first concert that was unaccompanied by parents was this one. I went with my older girl cousin. I don't think she was into the British Invasion, she preferred Elvis and Frankie Avalon.
I got to see these rock icons in concert. I most regret not seeing Jim Morrison, Brian Jones, or The Beatles.
The 17-yr-old version of me had this closeup view of Plant. More about that here.
I lived in a whole bunch of places, some of them twice. Trying to settle down a bit more these days.
Yes, it's another birthday. Nothing planned except maybe a day off work. I will most likely be well-behaved and probably go to bed early.
Here is Liberace playing "Bumble Boogie" on his TV show.
My mother always told me that she quit smoking while she was pregnant with me. I was going through some photos in a trunk, and found some very strong evidence to the contrary!
In most of the adult photos of my mother, she is holding a cigarette. Not sure what made her start, just the usual reasons probably - trying to fit in with the other 'kids' or wanting to rebel. It wasn't really known to be dangerous when she started, probably in the 1930s or 1940s, but by the 1950s (this is taken in 1953) people were becoming aware of some of the hazards.
The others in the photo are her parents, who were visiting her in Phoenix from southern Illinois, so she is openly showing rebellion in doing it. She would tell me some stories about her father, who was a strict Southern Baptist and on many occasions unleashed fiery righteous indignation and abuse upon those within his dominion, especially the females. She told about the time, and this was as an adult after she had moved out, where she spent a very long day working in their house... sanding, wallpapering, scrubbing and painting... and when she was finished she took out a cigarette and lit it. Her dad grabbed her arm, twisted it around to her back (nearly breaking it), put his foot on her behind and shoved her out the front door. He told her that she would never light another cigarette under his roof.
She didn't quit though. She smoked for the rest of her life right up until she was in her early 70s and had been bedridden with emphysema for some time - she had the oxygen tank with her, and was pretty addled from morphine (and just lack of oxygen in the brain) so that she somehow thought it was OK to continue smoking. She started a fire in her apartment (and luckily her home nurse was there to take action) but ended up being burned in the face and all the way into her poor old already-shredded lungs. She didn't die from that, but, boy was she angry. Her burned lungs wouldn't let her smoke anymore. She had been calling smoking "her only pleasure" for years. She lived for maybe another year, and we lost her just 2 weeks apart from MrB's father who had lung cancer. They were both almost militant smokers... take the cigarettes out of my cold dead hands... that sort of attitude. (I've told some of this tale before a few years back.)
I don't think the pregnant smoking stunted my growth or anything. I was a big 9 lb. baby. As a toddler I was playing with the butts in an ashtray, and she made me eat a bite of the ashes. It worked. I never, ever, wanted to smoke a cigarette in my life, so as bizarre as it sounds, she did me a favor. Don't know if all those long car trips with both parents filling the car with smoke hurt me either. Something with surely get me someday, but I don't think it will be nicotine.
We are back from vacation, as of Sunday actually, and just now getting caught up with sorting pictures, unpacking, doing laundry, working 3 days and catching up on Breaking Bad before it kicks in for another season. Santa Barbara is a beautiful place and it was worth it to postpone a few purchases in order to visit it. The weather was wonderful and cool every day. Overcast every morning and most afternoons. The "No high heels" sign isn't a statement on the importance of being casual, it's a safety warning for anyone thinking of trying to walk on the old wooden pier wearing stupid and dangerous shoes... ... and in this clip form the 1966 Batman movie that was filmed at this very spot (Stearn's Wharf) you can see that there were several violations of the shoe policy, but Batman was still doing his best to keep the place safe.
The whole town of Santa Barbara (California) was like a botanical garden. I don't know how much of the beauty is the result of careful plant-mothering and how much is just from the cool sun and sea breezes, but everything looked healthy and non-distressed. I imagine it's a bit of both. Things seemed to be kept clean and tidy, and I was a bit surprised to have not even seen one stray cat in the whole 4 days.
We got there on the 4th of July in time for one of the longest parades I can remember, followed that night by fireworks at the beach. Here's a group of re-enactors having an opportunity to fire their muskets. Big noise, and the poor dudes seem to get a faceful with every shot.
This excellent sand sculpture was unofficial, and the artist was collecting tips. It was flattened by the next day.
We were the unashamed tourists in getting on the amphibious tour bus/boat. This one is called the Land Shark. Here it is from the pier with pelicans getting a free ride on top.
These were taken from the tour boat, a bunch of sea lions all snuggled and cuted up. They can pretty much guarantee that you'll see sea lions on your voyage, but we didn't see any dolphins, sharks or whales.
This was pointed out to be David Crosby's boat, his "wooden ship," the Mayan.
This is a famous Moreton Bay Fig Tree, supposed to be the largest of its kind in the USA. It was stunningly gorgeous. Trees are magnificent.
Santa Barbara's courthouse is a tourist attraction because of its architecture, tile decor, murals, stained glass, and tower view of the area. This is my "post card" view of one area, and below that is a partial view of the sunken gardens, basically its perfect lawn occupying a corner of the block.
We were back at the same location that night, and here is a night view of one wing of the courthouse, for a free outdoor movie to be shown.
One of my favorites... and a reminder that the peoples of Earth are never going to get their act together and make peace, regardless of all the convincing arguments that they should.
Just for grins, we priced some real estate listings in this area, and were not surprised to see that they are 3 or 4 times more pricey than where we are now. It's a wealthy area, not a good place to be poor... but you can always collect a few pennies on the beach if you have a creative blanket.
Before we moved to Austin in 2000, I used to travel a bit. Not the way I did as a kid with a military dad and a rambling mother – that was ridiculous… no, just normal traveling around the USA, a few long weekends mostly to see those old rock-n-roll shows… it was my middle-aged craziness.
In early 2001 I went to Las Vegas for The Moody Blues (a weekend) plus one night in St. Louis to see Eric Johnson, and in 2005 one night there for a nephew’s wedding party – then real-life started to settle me down good. I had a steady job that didn’t pay that well, a freelance job on the side that didn’t pay that well either and kept me busy around the clock, plus the 4 cats started needing more and more specialized care. We got to do day-trips only, and eventually not even not even those because of $$$ meds and med schedule… just stuff in town only. MrB would visit his family in MO once a year and I would stay home on kitty-care duty.
Oh, there’s a hell of a lot to do here, and we love this town dearly. No two-ways about that, but it has been difficult hearing about other people’s vacation trips – Ireland, Egypt, London, Venice, Paris, Portland, – not from jealousy, I’m glad when others have that luxury, but just from longing for a break and knowing that there wouldn’t be one. I've been bouncing between getting stir crazy and burning out. We've been trying to think up a plan for an escape for many months, now that we don't have cat-parent responsibilities.
We are going to Santa Barbara for 3 whole nights in July! Got a (hopefully) nice hotel right next to the beach where there will be fireworks for the 4th, and rest of the time just walking and wine tasting. I know, it's a short getaway and doesn't even leave the continental USA, but here's another advantage.
See our forecast temps for the coming week on the left compared to Santa Barbara on the right. (No forecasts yet for the week after… not that I put much stock in forecasts, but I do think there’s a 100% chance of “chilly” in SB and "blistering" here.)
Now that we decided to actually go somewhere, I've got some new issues - like... my luggage no longer conforms to the dimensional requirements for carry-on bags (crap! not what I want to shop for!) and I don't have a swimsuit (as Cathy would say, "AAACK").
Time for a bit of a status update here. Have been spending really far too much of the free time working in the house, although I guess what's 'too much' is a matter of opinion. There are still 3 ladders in the foyer, but I have reached a point where the 8ft. and the 16ft. can possibly go back in the garage for a short time. What a pain in the ass it is to have high ceilings, especially if you want to paint to hang stuff up - and, of course, painting involves as much "taking stuff down" as "hanging stuff up," and my favorite, "moving stuff around."
I also opened the can of worms which is my art collection. It's stuff I created myself throughout my earlier life, and I figured I may as well hang up a few choice items. The figure drawing classes left me with an overabundance of nudes, with a solid number of still-lifes featuring skulls, vases, and drapes. I'm being very selective here. Mentally tiring trying to figure out which ones are worth hanging... I will try to get some photos up here as soon as there's something to show.
Helping out in the process have been some neighbor-cat visitors. We've been allowing a couple of block cats to come inside the house for brief visits (just kidding about the helping out. Cats are unhelpful with tasks - always). Definitely not more than an hour, and no snacks. We have made a vow that we will not take in any pets for a good long time - and that's going to stick. Anyway, these 2 cats in particular are going to break our hearts for sure. They are sweet and affectionate. These cats have homes (2 different ones) but they are left out to roam a lot. They are friends with each other, so I'm glad of that. Such nice kitties.
Love. Making himself at home.
Most of my energy is being directed toward planning our SXSW day party crawl this month, which means narrowing down an insane number of choices to something humanly possible - and then figuring out the proper combination of buses and boots that will provide the transportation. Parking is a pain, at best, and lots of streets are closed anyway. Looking forward to seeing some of our favorite bands and maybe discovering a new one or two. Here's a favorite we hope to catch once or twice, Punch Brothers, based in NYC.
Here's another one we like, GIVERS, from Lafayette LA:
Here's what I've been up to... some home improvement, sweat equity, whatever you want to call it. Sometimes you just have to bear down and do it. The kitty cats (bless their hearts) destroyed almost all of the carpet in the house - a bedroom, staircase and landing. The 2nd bedroom was off limits to them and the rest of the house is tiled. We LOVE tile, especially how it's not destroyed by a few claws and messes. Below is one of the worst corners of carpet, but there were several other spots like this. This was the entrance to the 'cat room.' There is another ripped spot there on the inside, but this texture pattern and stain came from a piece of plastic office chair mat that we had to place under the door to prevent even more carpet rips, plus Duncan had a habit of peeing on the door -- both sides of it, and frequently. I've have scrubbed it with soap many times, but still... and of course the door paint was in pretty poor shape as well. The entire carpeted area was covered in numerous bad stains, mostly from Alex and his IBD (intestinal troubles, poor thing, couldn't keep much of anything down during his last couple of years). A decision to replace the carpet meant that it really made sense to also paint... BEFORE a new carpet goes down, and I have been dreading this job because of the really, really high ceilings. At the highest, they are about 20 ft. (~6.1 m). I've got a start on the stair wall here:
Looking upward at the area, partially done. It's almost as much work to take all the stuff down from the walls as it is to paint them... almost. Here's the color scheme I've picked for the old cat room (soon to be the Polynesian Room), the stair wall and the front living area. Baseboards and doors will be white. We bought zero-VOC paint, which has almost no odor at all, and the carpet is made from recycled bottles or something like that. Anyway, it's 'green'. Sooooo, lots of work done and still ahead for Blueberry, while MrB stays out of the way. This is for the best. I am reasonably handy and he's there for the heavy lifting.
Snagged this bit of brilliance via a FB friend, it is rather perfect in describing many of my failed attempts at having fun on a New Year's Eve celebration package - or forget having fun, I would call it a success even if it was just pleasant or a little bit worth doing.
There are different types:
The house party in the suburbs (belonging to a friend of a friend) where I don't know anyone and don't meet anyone interesting, where I end up watching the Ball Drop in Times Square at midnight on TV, sitting on a couch with a couple of other strangers who also feel awkward while a handful of others are getting shitfaced in the kitchen.
The low-end package deal, which includes dinner (maybe a spaghetti with rolls and side salad, and a couple of free drinks) and a marginal cover band. These are very much like an economy wedding reception except that I, again, don't know anyone other than the other couple we are with. I don't polka and gave up disco in my 20s. The band will play Proud Mary, Love Shack, Start Me Up and will finish the night with New York New York.
The higher-end package deal, which will include either dinner or hors d'oevres, a glass of champagne at midnight, a marginal cover band (see: #2 low-end package deal), and a hotel option. These affairs always made me the most uncomfortable because everyone is trying to "outdress" each other, the line for the bar will be looong (and that is where you will spend a lot of time - either that or your date will be in the line while you are alone). The hotel part does rock though. I hate being in a car after midnight on New Years.
Can you think of a few more typical New Year's Eve things to do or not do?
The only thing I like doing on NYE is spending time with people I know and like, or doing something special - just for its own merit, not because it's NYE. Back in 2008 we went to Momo's for the last public Austin performance of one of our favorite bands: the South Austin Jug Band. They went out in style, bringing in as many ex-members as they could, and it was fantastic. I thought of it today when one of the band members posted this video of mine from that show on FB - it was a tribute to our favorite music club which closed its doors abruptly this week (the club where they and many other favorite bands got started) - more gentrification taking place in that location (no doubt). Momo's will relocate (they say) and musicians keep going but some things will just be memories... for auld lang syne.
Friday night we took Mom to the movies, and we finally got to see The Descendants after illness kept us from using our Thanksgiving Day tickets. I saw fewer first-run movies this year than usual, but this is surely one of the best of 2011. We all liked it a lot. One thing I *didn't* like was the fact that when it first opened, I was listening to Fresh Air on NPR, and the guest on that show revealed a MAJOR plot point spoiler. I will not do that, but I will say that one of the things I liked about it was that it normalized the experience of living in a place (Hawaii, in this case) where the people and the culture are often stereotyped, used as a theme, and almost made cartoonish. I've lived in many places (including Hawaii) and those regional prejudices really bug me.
On Saturday the rain was still pouring down, making beautiful mud for our poor old distressed trees, and making a drive around the Lake a bad idea... still, so we went down to the historic Gruene area of New Braunfels. That town was hopping! They had a good-sized tent village of kiosk shops, plus all their regular little quaint shops. We had lunch at the Gristmill restaurant, a huge place with great views - and the server tried to talk us into the smaller order of onion rings, but we were having none of that "small" stuff, just bring us the bigguns. . The Gristmill is right next door to "Texas' Oldest Dance Hall" Gruene Hall, which is a great place. On weekends they have music all day and all evening, (free in the daytime) so we got to listen to the White Ghost Shivers play for awhile. The place was packed! Here's a taste of the Shivers and their 20s-style Swing Jive.
Saturday night we watched an old Terrence Malick movie, Days of Heaven, on DVD. I really didn't care for Tree of Life (still, I think we can expect to see it in the Oscar lineup for this year) but have been checking out some of his other stuff, esp. since we got to see him in action with Christian Bale this Fall, so now it's personal. Anyway, we liked it (MUCH more than Tree of Life, speaking just for me).
It was a nice time spent with the folks, I hadn't seen them for about 6 years. This coming weekend we've got more stuff planned than we can cram into it. I like working but I live for the weekend.
Just wanting to check in here. Over the past month, we've both been sidelined with illnesses, but at least we are taking turns. Earlier in the month, I guess I picked up a nasty bug that made me progressively ill for a week. I semi-recovered for the next week during which MrB endured a couple of days of food poisoning brought on by something at his office Thanksgiving party - then we were both pretty well for one day (Friday) when we went out to see The Band of Heathens and the Beckham Brothers. It was a great show and we got to see friends and dance by the stage - but on Saturday that intestinal virus hit me again with a vengeance. It is now Tuesday night and I am no better yet. I have seen a doctor and gotten some advice, trying to eat some of the recommended foods but there's really no point in eating food at all. MrB has gone to the store to get me some Pedialyte, Ensure and some more Imodium.
All this is right before an extremely rare visit from MrB's family in a couple of days, who "can't wait to see our house!" Well... maybe I actually can use the illness as as excuse for my dust-bunny collection.
August 1: There are some events coming your way that you already know about -- and you may be looking forward to them. But are you truly prepared for them? Unless you take time today to do some organizing in your life, you may be caught off guard when the time comes. This imbalance in your mood won't be major, but it will distract you from all the fun you could be having. Think ahead and get some stuff out of the way now so you won't have to worry about it later.
My horoscope for today. This is more like my horoscope for every damned day of the world. All I do is worry about stuff I need to get done, and think about how great it would be if I could get it done and get it out of the way so I could relax -- but as soon as I actually get something checked off the list, something else rears its head, so it's just one long "To Do" checklist. "Relaxing" or "not worrying" always gets shoved to the bottom.
This evil little bit of advice is that very demon that prods me day and night, weekend, weekday, and that part about not having worries later is a LIE. I live by this advice, it drives me everyday. It's the kind of things that feeds workaholism.
{I don't mean an *actual* demon like a little critter or something. Demons are real. They are just a part of your psychological makeup, part of your mind... addictions, obsessions, or even just worries.}
Yes, DO watch it all the way to the end to hear Lawrence Welk describe it in those words. This reminds me of something that happened in this same timeframe (around 1971). I've had more than my share of really goofy aunts, uncles and cousins.
One uncle (call him "E") was quite a strong religious fanatic of the Pentecostal variety and married a woman named Carol who was made of the same stuff. She was a real corker. There she is, on the left, and don't you worry, her hair is not cut off, it's wrapped up in a bun like the Lord commanded. She went around tongue-wagging and bad-mouthing a woman, one of her cousins-in-law, for shaming herself and being indecent. The way she had shamed herself was by wearing a pantsuit - Pentecostal women were only permitted to wear dresses (and obviously this cousin was not of that strain of Christianity and was therefore of the devil). This complaint didn't sit well with much of anybody, so one day Carol was sitting in the front yard in a dress that was a little short - and my mother (who loved to stir the shit) and a kindred spirit of a neighbor across the street started hollering as loud as possible, "I see England, I see France, I see Carol's underpants!!" The other thing Carol was famous for was showing up at potluck dinners with no food - only empty containers to take food home - that, and showing up uninvited right at dinnertime with husband and 3 kids in tow. I guess Uncle E was just as much to blame for that one, but he was never quite right so we forgave him.
Some funny things from Uncle E
Once he was stopped by a policeman for running a stop sign. He told the officer that he knew good and well that he could not have committed that offense, and the reason he knew was because he was a Christian!! As the officer wrote out the ticket, Uncle E started to pray out loud "Oh Jesus!! Come right now!!"
Another time he was looking for work and had filled out some forms with an employment agency. One of the questions asked had to do with driving experience and he was supposed to estimate about how many miles he had driven. He put down "a million miles." When he got tired of having no luck in the job hunting department, he called up the woman at the agency to yell at her, and told her that maybe she should be looking for him a job on the moon because she wasn't doing him any good down here on earth!
Uncle E once showed up at our door with a religious tabloid magazine claiming that Richard Nixon was being falsely persecuted... JUST LIKE JESUS WAS! My mother had some real giggles over that one. Neither of us could stand Nixon, and my mother liked to say "He thinks his shit smells like pineapples!" (meaning Nixon, not her brother).
One day, the phone rang. I picked it up and said hello, but all I heard was that song playing, "One Toke Over the Line" by Brewer and Shipley. I held the receiver up in the air so she could hear too, and we were both very aware of the definition of 'toke' and were giggling like mad and rolling our eyes. When the song ended, Uncle E finally spoke up on the other end. He said he wanted to make sure we got to hear that song because it was about Jesus!
I still think about that and laugh when I hear that song, and apparently Uncle E wasn't the only one who was taken in by that Modern Spiritual!
I had only 233 posts this year - the lowest number yet for a year. I am blaming facebook, which will suck your time down like it's drinking your milkshake. First, a few things that stand out, and limiting these to those related to personal experiences. Links go to posts.
People we knew or met who are no longer with us, listed in descending order of familiarity:
Jax, our big sweet black cat, complications of diabetes and other issues. Yes, cats are people. Age 14.
Cousin *L*, the closest thing I had to a sister, cancer. Age 60.
Billy Maddox, drummer for Eric Johnson and others, shot to death during a home intrusion. Age 57.
Liz Carpenter, Lady Bird Johnson's Press Sec'y, author, and Texas progressive. Age 90.
Important and/or weird events that happened around here:
We met Caplin Rous, the famous capybara, at Petco. Now MrB wants a capybara. I don't think we are ready for such a thing. [and now a sad addendum: Caplin has died of encephalitis on Jan 4. This charming animal will be missed. He had really worked his way into our hearts via facebook]
Joe Stack, angry with the IRS, flew his airplane right over the building where I work, and crashed it into the IRS office. Both the Republican and Democratic Representatives for this area declared it to be terrorism, and I thoroughly agreed - but it was never treated as such.
Let's see... these are the major trends going on with the Blueberries over the past year...
I continued the effort to rescue myself from the workaholic frenzy that has been driving me crazy for several years (damn that Virgo sun!). Some dreams which were already dead, were laid to rest with honors. I accomplished many things and did not fail. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Time to move on. This process was started in 2009, and now, at the end of 2010 I have finally gotten my work commitments down to just one 40-hour-per-week job... pretty much...
Part of the process was simply doing less. I have a lot of friends who go out and hit the clubs and venues almost every night. They are generally middle-aged with no kids or grown kids, no pets, in many cases retired, or otherwise not needing to work - at least not the full-time routine. When we first moved here, we were out there several nights a week, even with a bunch of cats at home (the cats were lower maintenance then). It's probably hard for some of them to understand why a live music fanatic like me would miss a "major" event in favor of a low-impact TV night where I attempt to get enough sleep. {sigh}
This was the year that I learned that sleep is not over-rated. If I go by that old saw "I'll sleep when I'm dead" it could lead to a "snooze" coming on way before I'm ready for it. My health has been falling victim to lack of sleep and over-stressing. You really can worry yourself to death, or into a place of deep distress.
I still listen to or watch Countdown, Rachel Maddow, The Daily Show and the Colbert Report pretty much every day. The political world is so flipped out right now that it has surpassed what I thought was possible for teh crazy. Most of the time, I'm too stunned for words. There is still some political content here at the Oasis, but that's why there's not more. Everything continues to be surreal.
Looking at my sidebar, I see that we watched 101 movies or boxed sets, and attended 43 live shows (as always, counting days at SXSW or other multi-act shows as "1," which hardly seems fair...). Not shabby at all. Happy to have been so enriched.
Roll with the punches, everybody. Hang in there, if possible. Get some rest once in awhile. Here's a beauty of a Paul McCartney song called "Goodbye"
Well, it's been quiet around this blog for awhile. Just dealing with a lot of life changes and stuff, it's been difficult to blog. I become so easily overwhelmed with worries, and only some of them are worth the stress. Yes, you CAN worry yourself to death.
I've always been prone to panic attacks, or variations of them. I guess I need some kind of therapy - doctors or meds - but I've had some really unpleasant and frightening experiences with both of things before. Not really willing to head down that road yet. They have evolved over the years, and the recent ones have been really kind of scary.
No need for you all to worry about me, though. I will make it. I'm trying to get more sleep, or at least, rest. There is less going on, intentionally. I am less busy. Not scouring the Chronicle or the Club listings to see who's playing tonight. Not even doing the easy stuff if it's a weeknight. Yes, I know... I'm missing a lot. I've even missed my favorite bands, on purpose. I need downtime, relaxation, indifference, even laziness. Every Sunday night, the success of the weekend gets measured by how much stuff we got done. If things were left undone, I am disappointed in myself... but shouldn't be... really.
By the end of this year, I should be back to working just 40 hours a week for an employer with virtually no freelance clients. I have dearly loved being part of what makes the music happen (even though I can't play a note), but I will now be able to check some things off the list. Did some things I always wanted to do, did a pretty good job, and it's time to pass things along, sit back, take things in stride... and above all... DON'T PANIC (even when things are going to hell in a bucket).
