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Posts Tagged ‘Film’

A Delicate Balance

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , on April 29, 2025| Leave a Comment »

I’m slowly starting to drive again, to pick up my life from last November. I want to do it all _ Pilates, swimming, dancing, but i’m restraining myself. My ONE mission in life right now is Not To Fall...it’s not my golden years, it’s more like diamond years, building back bones as strong as diamonds. Living with osteoporosis is a Delicate Balance.

The Bride has been visiting her brother’s new family, bringing her big sister energy to Southern California. Since the twins received their first round of immunizations, they all ventured out to South Pasadena’s farmer’s market last week. I miss the huge avocados and baby bok choy, the non-stop music and synergy of craft/farm/artistisan vibes. But it’s almost strawberry season in TN, so there’s that!

One of the first things I had to tackle when we returned home was cleaning the bird bath. And I’m so glad I did; a cardinal has decided he needs to bathe every midday when the sun is out. First he perches on the edge, carefully watching the tiny solar fountain erupting intermittently, then he dives in and shakes himself silly. I love to witness this tiny red dancer and can’t wait to meet his mate.

And speaking of cardinals, on the day of the Pope’s funeral I watched the movie Conclave. If you’ve missed it, it’s streaming now on Prime. Growing up Catholic, it left me with mixed feelings. The pomp was still there, and I do love the pomp, but the cutthroat politics was new to me. Apparently if you want to become Pope, you have to pretend that you don’t. We had just celebrated Passover, traveling home on Easter Sunday when we heard the sad news.

I couldn’t help comparing Passover to Easter: one celebrates freedom from slavery, and one celebrates eternal life? Reality vs Myth.

Do you sometimes feel like you’re walking on a tightrope? I’ve been balancing my energy between my California family and my Tennessee family. The roses and lilacs are in bloom, but I was just strolling past lavender hedges as high as my eyes! The twins are starting to smile, and my Pumpkin is perfecting his magic tricks. We are all looking forward to the Love Bug’s Bat Mitzvah in the Fall!

My first granddaughter’s rite of passage is an ancient one, but it’s fairly new for women to step up to the bimah. In 1922, Rabbi Kaplan insisted his daughter should study the Torah and she was the first to be consecrated in this country. Today there are many women rabbis but in the Catholic Church women are still subservient to priests. But who knows, maybe the next Pope will be more progressive.

Meanwhile…

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Talking Turkey

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on November 26, 2024| Leave a Comment »

I’ve been accused of falling to avoid cooking for Thanksgiving; it is always said jokingly, and I usually laugh along. But I’m missing the whole chopping and shopping and planning phase because for me it’s all about the sides and the table decor! The Bride’s Virginia in-Laws have already arrived and will be picking up the slack, but she has tasked us with cooking the turkey. There is a cute little Butterball defrosting in our refrigerator, and today we will bake a loaf of corn bread for the stuffing. This is our traditional recipe, classic corn bread stuffing cooked in the bird and not in a casserole dish.

My left hand is pretty free these days, the splint goes on only when I’m outside or around children and dogs. You can barely see the surgery scar. My right hand has to wear the splint all the time for the next three weeks. I’m not supposed to lift anything or exert any force on any one hand – so trying to pull the microwave door open was a mistake. I can push down the seatbelt to unhitch, but I can’t push it in. I feel like Goldilocks, forever looking for that sweet spot between comfort and pain.

My plan is to have Bob chop up all the vegetables for the stuffing the night before and Thanksgiving morning we’ll begin – I will pick parsley and sage in the garden, and I will be able to crumble the bread into the sauteed mirepoix. In fact, this will be hand therapy for me! But Bob will have the heavy lifting; he’ll be brining the bird and assembling the stuffing and getting ole Tom into the oven. Which is fine with me. The Bride is in her happy place baking up a storm of pies and biscuits.

I was invited to see Wicked last weekend with the Bug and I couldn’t resist. Three generations at the movies with candy and it was a marvelous escape, the seats even reclined! Still, it was hard to feel engaged, my head was stuck in its Aspen collar looking straight ahead so I couldn’t gauge the Bug’s reactions. Every now and then I’d throw my splint across her body and I never knew whose hand I was holding. But we all loved it, the costumes, the singing, the fantasy of it all.

I held my box of Goobers with my right hand and carefully picked out one nut at a time with my left – hand therapy with rewards!

On the way home I asked the Bug if she ever felt different. Like Elphaba, did she ever feel the need to defend herself? I said that I always felt different as a child: my last name was different than my foster parents; I had blazing red hair and I wanted black hair; plus I had the whole two mother, two separate families thing. She thought about it for awhile.

“Well Nana, I really don’t feel that different,” the Bug said.

And I felt a calmness seep into the car because we talked about her girl friends and her height and all the tween drama that’s happening. And I understood that this one has a bit of her Grandma Ada’s energy – a willingness to help, a compassionate perspective. It’s almost like the Bride’s yoga study and Ada’s counseling skills found their match in this next generation. I know these are the Wonder Years, and we have high school on the horizon next year, but dear God please keep this child safe.

And thank you for not killing me when I slid into the end table! Here is my left hand at occupational therapy… and Happy Thanksgiving All Y’All!

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Dearest Gentle Reader

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on June 17, 2024| Leave a Comment »

Good Morning! Spoiler Alert about Bridgerton – the jig is up!

We now know who Lady Whistledown is and that Pen gets her man. Amidst all the lies and deceit, love wins! And all the while I’m thinking this Bridgerton husband, fresh off his European tour bedding as many French women as he could find, will surely be giving his new bride an STD of some sort. Why must reality cozy up with a SIX minute sex scene? Maybe when you raise your children during the AIDs crisis, pragmatism kicks in.

I wonder what future generations will say about this time – climate change is a chronic, existential crisis; European elections are tilting to the Right; and America is debating the rules of a debate between a nice guy named Joe from PA, and a delusional, twice-impeached felon named Don! Could Bridgerton be the escape we all need? After all, in the end three new babies are born to fathers who will presumably mend their wicked ways.

Yesterday we celebrated Father’s Day with lunch and a movie, “Inside Out 2.” Temps were in the mid 90s so air-conditioning was an essential part of the plan. As we were walking out, the Love Bug asked me what emotion I liked best? “Ennui,” i said. I thought she should have had a bigger part. I also loved how Joy put Anxiety in a recliner with a cup of tea! Then the Bride said she loved Ennui also, and did we notice she was French? Mais OUI! The Pumpkin wanted to know what Ennui was, and while throwing out our candy boxes at the back of the theatre, I attempted an explanation.

Like the flat, bluish-gray animated character said, she is bored but rarely boring. She was distanced, lethargic like a noodle always lounging around. It’s fascinating that Ennui always had a phone in her hand. While the main character, Riley, is trying to fit in with her peers, all of her “old” emotions are literally bottled up in a jar! Could Hollywood be telling us that suppressing our emotions never works? Notice that Envy, a new emotion for Riley, is kinda cute with sparkly eyes and without a phone in her hand; maybe teens are not so envious of their friends’ social media feeds?

Another Spoiler Alert: Ennui joins Joy to save Riley! Key the eye-rolling, the shrug, the insidious “FINE!”

The good news is that Inside Out 2 is the number one, record breaking film of the year so far. “Pixar’s Inside Out 2 has broken box office records over the weekend as it brought in an estimated $295m (£232.6m) around the world.That makes it the strongest global opening by an animated film of all time, parent company Disney said. In North America, ticket sales hit about $155m, dethroning Dune: Part Two as the holder of this year’s top box office opening weekend.” https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cd114gg38xpo

Hooray! People are getting out, going back to the movies with candy and popcorn, even if it is an animation. I tried watching “Poor Thing” on the plane back from Heathrow, but it just wasn’t sitting well. I turned it off after she killed the toad. I remember the Flapper idolizing Veronica Lake, and Greta Garbo. Garbo’s “I vant to be alone,” was the synthesis of Ennui, and very much like Lady Whistledown. A smart woman, who’s been overlooked and underappreciated with a biting wit and a poison pen. We all need a break from the constant noise! Not the cicadas, those are gone thankfully; the pings and dings of our phones, the podcasts and songs in our ears, the stories we tell ourselves in order to soldier on.

It’s spending time alone, getting to know ourselves, listening to our intuition, that will help teens forge an identity. Ennui is never bored with herself! On the wall is a picture of my Foster Father Jim when he was in the Navy. He’s looking over The Love Bug on ProCreate; we like to get creative in the Snug!

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Fashion Forward

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , on March 12, 2024| Leave a Comment »

Last week I learned a thing or two about fashion.

Going into my fourth quarter century, you’d think I’d seen it all – mini skirts, gaucho pants, grunge, coastal grandmother. But did you know that short chunky heels are called Cuban heels? Hallelujah! Just when I thought my sexy heel wearing days were over, fashion throws me a lifeline. Of course, Carel traditional three strap Mary Janes have been a staple for French women everywhere. And after years of wearing Keds as a kid, and Asics as an adult, sneakers have become fashion gold for our golden years!

I must admit, I adored the Oscars, for the runway as much as the movies. In a week that celebrated International Women’s Day and Mother’s Day in the UK, talented women of all shapes, colors and nationalities were assembled. But when Jimmy Kimmel gave a shout out to the people behind the scene, the ones who make the movies work and stood in solidarity with the SAG-AFTRA strike – “The Teamsters, the truck drivers, the lighting crew, sound, camera gaffers, grips… all the people who refused to cross the picket lines, there they are. If you’re wearing Skechers to the Oscars, take a bow,” Jimmy said.

Yes Hollywood is a Union Town, and Fran Drescher is the bomb, but I didn’t see alot of women on that stage. Until women are represented in all areas of the industry, and paid equally btw, its point of view will always be skewed toward the male gaze. Except that Sunday night, Ryan Gosling’s show-stopper “I’m Just Ken” was a treat for every gender, from a film written and directed by Greta Gerwig.

Gosling was not even on my radar until I saw the 2007 film “Lars and the Real Girl.” He had the courage to act with a life-size blow-up sex doll then, so his progression to pink sequins was seamless. Home schooled in Canada because bullies picked on him, a tall, skinny and creative kid, his mom took him to an audition in the 90s for the Mickey Mouse Club in California. And along with Justin Timberlake, Gosling’s star was born.

The only strident chord I heard all night was when Kimmel referred to Holocaust films in general as “…rom coms in Germany.” The camera panned to Sandra Huller, a German actress who was nominated for two Oscars, including a part she plays as a Nazi housewife. The look of disgust on her face was evident, the turning away was swift. So why were people laughing I thought.

Barbenheimer Schilmanheimer! For the “Best Actress in a Leading Role” category, women can be found represented as world-class swimmers or as Osage, French, and Hispanic wives of dangerous men. Oh wait, what about the woman who won the category? That was Emma Stone for “Poor Things” playing a woman with a transplanted baby’s brain.

I think I’ll go slip on my pink Skechers and hit the greenway. I don’t have to get red carpet ready, just sunscreen and a hat. It’s sunny and 70s in Nashville today, maybe we’ll hit up the bagel store for lunch? I’ll ask Bob what he thought of Emily Blunt’s shoulder straps and did he think a BIG peplum was coming bacK. Was John Cena really naked under his Academy Award envelope for Best Costume Design?!?!

On second thought, I’ll wear my new Spring Asics.

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The First Time

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , on August 1, 2023| Leave a Comment »

You remember your first time right? No no no, not that first time, the first time you tried something new. Like your first time on a surfboard, or your first time trying to can peaches. Or maybe you remember your very first Barbie doll (co-marketing much)? The one that came in her own big box with a complete change of clothes so you didn’t have to buy a whole new doll every time Mattel invented one. Instead, your aunt Evelyn would just make Barbie a whole new wardrobe.

My big sister Kay always said I was her very own real, baby doll. My crib was in her room because the Flapper was tending to our dying Father. I was her last child of six, with curly red hair and no idea what the future would hold. No clue that 14 year old Kay would have to travel with me to my foster parents’ house that summer of Living Dangerously and stay with me until it was time for her to return to school. By the time I returned to my biological family, a decade later, Kay was an airline stewardess with a daughter of her own.

My sister is doing the southern tour. After two weeks visiting us, yesterday she flew to North Carolina to stay with a dear, old friend. Our roles have been reversed, instead of Kay teaching me table manners, I’ve been introducing her to a few new experiences. After living the Manhattan city mouse life for a half century, here is a list of the things Kay experienced for the very first time in Nashville – and no peddle taverns were involved:

  • Chipmunks
  • Keurig coffeemakers
  • Pool noodles
  • Barbeque
  • Costco
  • Motorized shopping carts
  • Panerra Bread
  • Kindle
  • Fried green tomatoes
  • Push button toilets

Kay never played with Barbies, and neither did I because the blonde stereotypical Barbie was invented on March 9, 1959 by Ruth Handler, who cofounded Mattel with her husband, Elliot. I was eleven years old and thought moving in with my “real” Mother was of utmost importance. I do remember early on having a gigantic doll that peed; then I quickly moved on to sports. Handler had the right idea though for a beat generation giving way to the 60s. She wanted to give girls an alternative to motherhood. But why the bawdy, impossibly sexy body?

“Barbie’s physical appearance was modeled on the German Bild Lilli doll, a risqué gag gift for men based upon a cartoon character featured in the West German newspaper Bild Zeitung.”

https://www.britannica.com/topic/Barbie

Thanks a lot Ruth. The Bride, because of her allergies could not have anything stuffed in her bedroom; no teddy bears or rugs or even curtains. So plastic Barbie was ubiquitous in her young world. We took the Love Bug to see the Barbie movie. We laughed and applauded at America Ferrera’s soliloquy about modern day women. I’m not sure the Bug was as amused as we were, after all she didn’t grow up with Barbie. The Bride felt conflicted about the doll who could look like Stormy Daniels and still be a veterinarian. Or maybe even a FIFA Women’s World Cup Champion!

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LA in Limbo

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , on July 18, 2023| Leave a Comment »

“What began as an inconvenience has become a crisis.” NYTimes

The Rocker told us it takes only twenty minutes to get across town. We called him to see how things were going when we heard about the SAG action this past weekend. The Hollywood writer’s strike, at first an “inconvenience,” quickly became a crisis when actors also walked out. Our son explained the situation, putting the labor issue into exquisite focus. It seems the big studios have an infinite amount of patience and cash to pour into marketing the films that have already wrapped. In other words, we will be bombarded with blockbuster ads for films scheduled to be released in December.

However, actors will not be promoting those films, so don’t expect to see them on TV or YouTube chatting with Kelly Clarkson or Jimmy Fallon. And of course writing rooms will remain empty, so do expect lots of reruns of your favorite shows. The last strike in Hollywood happened in 1980, before the Rocker was born. It’s crazy to think that strike was about residuals; something most of us had never heard of, but there are plenty of actors doing bit parts and still making a living. Why? Because of residuals!

This strike is about so much more. It’s an existential crisis for most actors.

Think about it, Meryl Streep is the exception. Roughly 70-80% of working actors are just getting by – playing a person at a cafe, or a corpse on a cop show, or a doctor in the background of a drama. Extra extra, they fade into the background. They might get lucky and have a few lines, or a pilot may get picked up and their ancillary character may come back for a series like Julianna Margulies in ER. Her performance as a nurse was so remarkable that fans clamored for more and she was signed immediately. I wouldn’t mind being George Clooney’s love interest. Margulies went on to play The Good Wife. Now she is streaming on The Morning Show with our Nashville sensation, Reese Witherspoon. But that is Kismet, most actors find work one audition at a time.

Artificial Intelligence is the reason this time is different. Imagine that young “exotic” looking Margulies is cast for the pilot of ER. She’s been turned down for so many parts because they are looking for a more “traditional” (ie blonde WASPy looking) actor, so she’s elated to play a nurse. And her contract states that the studio, or production company, can put electrodes all over her face and scan it for a digital image. She gets paid for working in the pilot of ER of course, not knowing if the network will pick it up for a season. But now the studio can use her image IN PERPETUITY!!!

In other words, she would never get another paycheck for the life of ER from that studio. Her face would belong to them, and if that doesn’t scare you, it should. I recommend watching the “Joan is Awful” episode on Black Mirror. You can find it on Netflix – with Selma Hayek and Annie Murphy. https://collider.com/black-mirror-episode-sag-aftra-strike/

Of course the writers are in a similar pickle. They may get paid for adapting a novel, or writing a screenplay but that would be it. Any changes or course corrections, any pilot that becomes a series, will be filled in with with ChatAI. But does a computer know what love and loss actually feel like? Can human emotions be deduced from an algorithm?

As for the Rocker, it seems that composers are not currently unionized.

“Worse still, some streamers, most notably Netflix, are defaulting to work agreements that cut out royalties entirely. Such agreements are known as buyouts—work-for-hire deals that offer a lump payment and no back end—and they deprive the composer of any share in the ongoing success of a hit series or movie… There’s rising disenchantment with a system in which paying dues has come to resemble abasement, with aspiring composers working on the cheap without benefits, security, or the leverage of a composer’s union—if only one existed. (Once upon a time it did. The Composers and Lyricists Guild of America, founded in the 1950s, disbanded after a 1971 strike.)”

https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2022/02/the-ugly-truth-of-how-movie-scores-are-made

Let’s keep our fingers crossed until the New Year.

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A Note From the Tropics

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , on July 4, 2023| 1 Comment »

Happy Fourth People! I was wondering why I haven’t heard any fireworks this weekend, but it’s probably because Mother Nature has provided her own entertainment.

Saturday afternoon Bob and I were busy enjoying the peace and quiet. The children had left town for a lake vacation, while weather forecasters said “Dangerous” heat and air quality levels were expected. Thank you Canada! A neighborhood friend was also heading off for a cooler climate and she kindly asked if we’d like to use their pool while they were gone – “Yes, thank you!” So our mornings have been spent listening to Jason Isbell’s new album and walking across the street to do laps along with my aqua exercise. Delightful right?

But three days ago, after a delicious Farmer’s Market lunch I was about to pick up my knitting when we heard “POP POP POP.” Cue the lights!

Darkness in the middle of the day, OK, but everything stopped. It was eerily quiet; no AC humming along, no plunks of big round ice cubes resonating in the freezer. My sister Kay had called earlier because she was worried about our heat wave. I assured her that all of Bob’s work last year insulating the attic and sealing up our windows was paying off so that even at a sweltering 96 degrees outside it was still 74 inside. But not for long.

First, I must say that like Elsa and Snow, summer storms don’t bother me. Pop up afternoon showers are part and parcel of southern living. As veteran Jersey Shore types, we know to head into a movie theatre or a shopping mall when dark skies descend. And unless there is a tornado warning, all the hype about baseball-sized hail, wind, lightening and thunder fly under my stress radar. Bob actually loves to sit on the porch and watch a storm roll in. Except this time, the loud, unusual popping noise meant a transformer was blown out in our alley.

Long story shorter, it took all of 12 hours – between noon and midnight – for half of the power to return. Bob regretted not putting in a whole house generator, and I was thankful that our house stayed fairly cool on Saturday because of the aforementioned insulating. But Sunday wasn’t a fun day either because we only had 70 volts running into the house, and yes Bob has a meter?! Meaning the AC still wasn’t working and what was working was hot hit or miss. So Bob found an NES guy on a pole to let him know about the transformer, then we went out to lunch and a movie.

By the time we returned from the BEST Indiana Jones movie, and not just because the Rocker did the trailer, our full power was ON! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eQfMbSe7F2g&t=1s

So last night we invited a few neighbors over for hodge podge dinner of defrosted things – a small turkey breast, eggplant parmigiana, pasta salad. And we laughed and learned more about each other and I remembered what it was like to throw a dinner party.

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It’s All About Ethics

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , on May 30, 2023| Leave a Comment »

Last week I was helping the Bug study for a science test on human reproduction.

She was learning about puberty, menstruation, and sex. There was not an ounce of self-consciousness or body shaming in my beautiful granddaughter, who is only one inch shorter than I am. I can vaguely remember my big sister Kay filling me in on such things. It was certainly not in my Catholic school’s 5th, 6th, 7th, or 8th grade curriculum. However, the Bride was taught about reproduction in her public school, albeit mostly about anatomy and to fear AIDs as the latest STD. I’m happy to say my Grands are the children of doctors, who never shied away from difficult questions.

Then the Pumpkin who hears everything, asked how old you have to be to have a baby?

And I immediately thought about an Ob-Gyn who did her best with a patient, and her state medical board reprimanded her. They fined her $3,000 – for saving a patient’s life. They came very close to taking her license away. Would you think this doctor must live in a developing country? Wrong; this courageous woman physician lives in Indiana where there is a Republican AG, and she had the audacity to perform an abortion on her 10 year old patient.

“The board cleared Bernard on two other counts, determining that she did not improperly report child abuse and that she is fit to practice medicine.“

https://www.washingtonpost.com/parenting/2022/10/27/abortion-doctor-indiana-caitlin-bernard/

We tried to answer the Pumpkin’s question, but honestly we were stumped. Sure once menstruation starts, the uterus is signaling its ability to carry a fetus, but when is it advisable? Certainly not in the teenage years, right?

Dr Caitlyn Bernard followed protocol. She reported the procedure involving a minor in the time frame required – three days. This speedy reporting process has been determined to help police find and prosecute a rapist, a child rapist – which they eventually did. What exactly did this doctor do wrong? She spoke to the press about it. She spoke in generalized terms to a reporter about her patient’s age and the consequential influx of young girls to Indiana from Ohio after the Dobbs decision. Even the Chair of the Board called Bernard a “good doctor.”

There was no HIPAA violation, all docs talk in general terms about their interesting patients. So long as a patient isn’t named, or identified, doctors have freedom to speak. But telling a reporter that a child had to cross state lines in order to receive life-saving care is a bridge too far?

Dr Bernard’s patient is the same age as our Bug. She aced her science test on the last day of school, and will be turning 11 this summer. Of course I didn’t bring up the Indiana court case while studying human reproduction. I didn’t talk about an extreme Christian anti-woman agenda in our home state. Instead I suggested we all go to the movies!

It was my first time back to a movie theatre since the pandemic. Three generations of girls / women sat through all the ads and trailers, I told the Bug how it used to be full-length cartoons before a movie in my day… and I immediately feel ten times older every time I say something like that. Note to Self – “When I was a girl…” must be eliminated from my vocabulary! Then the movie started, and the thrill of being surrounded by strangers in a dark cavern returned.

“Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret” unfolded in classic pre-teen angst. A rising 6th grader (just like the Bug) must leave her grandmother, Kathy Bates who was channeling Grandma Ada to a T, her friends and her NYC apartment and move to the suburbs. The actress playing Margaret, Abby Ryder Fortson, even resembles the Love Bug with her piercing dark eyes. Her first prayer is pretty concise – “Please don’t let New Jersey be too horrible” and we laughed though southerners didn’t get the joke. Bras and menstrual periods were discussed willy nilly. Margaret has decided she must choose a religion, Judaism or Christianity? And she learns how to navigate new friendships.

If only our country could learn how to keep religion out of politics.

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Atmospheric Rivers of Music

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , on January 11, 2023| 3 Comments »

Before my first cup of coffee, Bob said, “Have you seen your texts?”

California is at risk of floating away from a series of heavy storms, so my first thought was, “Are the kids evacuating?” Most of the rain is in Northern California but you never know.

Bob assured me everything was alright, while I looked at him incredulously. After an early morning series of text messages with the Bride, he couldn’t wait for me to read the news. While scrolling through the New York Times it seems the Bride came upon a familiar face – her brother! Yes, the very one who lives above a canyon in LA! We had failed to tell her he’d been interviewed during the summer about his work, but in fairness he wasn’t sure when the article, or even IF the article would be published.

I always thought the Rocker’s face would be on the cover of Rolling Stone someday, but for an old-fashioned news reporter, landing in the Grey Lady is the epitome of greatness! I sipped my coffee as I read the essay about the latest trend in trailer music and my son’s specific contributions.

While we were in Malibu I knew something had changed. One day I heard the Rocker laughing with his sister while the Groom was looking at his phone. My adult children know that TikTok is a bridge too far for me to cross, so they did their best to explain what had happened with my son’s latest trailer for the new Black Panther: Wakanda Forever movie. Someone on TikTok connected the dots back to his company, Totem, and was giddy over the musical re-mix.

“The way it goes from No Woman No Cry into Alright and then how the music just goes into another gear at that 1:45 mark…,” another fan on Twitter said. And right before our eyes, Totem was blowing up on YouTube. I think that’s the right terminology.

When the Rocker was in high school, along with playing guitar in his band, he would always write his own music and play around with the oldies that our generation loved. His Fender Strat never left his hands. Since we had wonderful neighbors in the land between two rivers, the drum set stayed in our garage. Playing at the iconic Stone Pony in Asbury Park was just one highpoint of years and years of practice.

But to be honest, it wasn’t an easy trajectory. He left college to tour the world with The Parlor Mob; sleeping in vans and getting signed by one major record label only to be dropped and picked up by another. Some booking agents were better than others and of course they had to sell merchandise. He never complained. The accommodations improved, and the bar food was getting tastier as they worked their way up the ranks, but the entire music industry was changing around the boys in the band. Making a cohesive album of songs turned into 99 cent singles on your cell, or hearing your anthem play at an NHL arena.

He started off as a young boy listening to vinyl LPs in our living room, went straight into the teenage mixed cassette tape era crammed into his car’s windshield visor, and wound up with streaming music everywhere. Now he’s in the NYTimes! This is Eric Ducker’s intro:

“He’s played a crucial role in some of pop culture’s biggest recent moments. But few people outside of the space where the entertainment and marketing industries overlap know his name. As a composer, Rosen is at the forefront of the trailerization movement: He’s in demand for his ability to rework existing songs to maximize their impact in trailers for films and TV shows.He married vocals and motifs from Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill” to a thunderous version of the “Stranger Things” theme in the lead-up to the second volume of the show’s fourth season. He intertwined the Nigerian singer Tems’s cover of “No Woman No Cry” with Kendrick Lamar’s “Alright” in the teaser for “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever,” symbolizing the meeting of the franchise’s future and its legacy.” 

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/06/arts/music/trailer-music-trailerization.html

Granted Ducker’s essay included other trailer houses, but it led with Totem and a close-up of my son’s face. What I love, besides that punim, is how the Rocker took a song from the 80s, and introduced it to a new generation. Kate Bush, who recorded Running Up That Hill when the Rocker was a newborn, has now made over 2 Million dollars in royalties since its debut in Stranger Things. https://www.digitalmusicnews.com/2022/07/08/kate-bush-stranger-things-how-much-did-she-earn/

That’s a nice retirement package!

What I really really love about the Rocker is his humble heart. His wife Kiki, or his sister have to tell me when he’s received an award or is working with a famous director. He would never brag about his accomplishments and would always be the first to offer a friend a couch to sleep on. He’s even helped other East Coast artists adapt to the West Coast vibe. When he needed children to sing a lullaby, he turned to our little California cousins. And most importantly, the Rocker never stopped hugging me in public, even in Middle School.

While 90% of California is currently on flood watch due to atmospheric rivers of rain, we’ve been interviewing contractors about our HVAC system. It can barely keep up with the swing in Nashville temperatures. And I can barely keep up with technology. But the wind has always been at my son’s back.

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Lost Day

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , on May 16, 2022| Leave a Comment »

On the day my sister Kay woke from her coma and left the hospital – the same hospital still holding her mother and grandmother captive – the movie “Lost Weekend” was playing at the local Scranton movie theatre. I can see her now, in the back seat of a car, looking at the marquee and thinking to herself, “I lost a whole month.”

The Flapper’s automobile accident had been on the Fourth of July, and Kay was unconscious for a whole month. She’d “lost” the first month of summer picnics and ballgames. It’s a humbling feeling I’m sure to wake up and discover the world went on without you; dogs were fed, gardens watered and someone took care of the baby. No child at fourteen should have to care for her younger brothers, her crippled mother, and a ten month old baby sister. But that was her misfortune, her karma, our Year of Living Dangerously.

This week, the first hazy, hot and humid day of the summer, our air conditioner died and I felt like I lost a whole day.

Bob and I went out to run some errands and returned to a very hot house. The HVAC people who had installed a tankless water heater just a few months earlier, were booked solid. Temps would hover near 90, but they said they could come “tomorrow.” The Bride kindly offered us dinner in her freezing cold house, and of course we accepted. She wanted us to stay in her garage apartment overnight, but we said no thanks.

That night, we opened windows, found a fan, and attempted to sleep. After all, we are both stoic. We grew up without air conditioning, and we never needed it while we lived in the Berkshires.

The next day a young technician arrived and spent four hours troubleshooting our combo gas furnace and electric air conditioner. It was installed in 2015. Would I sound like an old codger if I complained about planned obsolescence? It does seem like major appliances used to get “fixed” when we were first married, and now more often than not, something needs to be “replaced.” Lucky for us, we only needed a new capacitor.

Still, our crooked crystal cottage could hold the heat in her walls. It took many hours for our unit to cool the whole house to a comfortable temperature. I don’t remember much of that day – trying to plant outside in the shade, refilling Ms Bean’s water bowl and checking her breathing to see if she was still alive. Animals are smart about the weather, she switched into hibernation mode immediately.

The 1945 movie Lost Weekend was about an alcoholic. Ray Milland plays a writer who goes on a “four day bender.” I’ve never experienced a blackout while drinking, I was always told I’m a lightweight. But these last few weeks of men debating a woman’s sovereignty over her own body have made me want to pop open a wine bottle again. And over this past weekend, our country experienced FOUR mass shootings…

I’m exhausted and tired of this fight, in a country where barely 1/3 of the population gets to impose their rules and religious beliefs on the rest of us . They want the freedom to carry guns, without a permit, like it’s the wild west. They want to legislate our wombs.

The problem with overdoing alcohol is the next day you pay. I heard Jane Fonda say she doesn’t have many days left in this life, and if she drank a martini tonight she would lose the next day. So I’ll pop open a Pellegrino and keep writing. I’ll try to stay grateful for all the little things in this life, like the Love Bug graduating from elementary school.

I don’t want to lose another day.

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