May the wind be at your back, and all that. I’m keeping it short today since I’m back in the Music City. We’ve got our green on and I cooked up some corned beef and cabbage for the medical duo. Our mission for today is to find this little Love Bug a high chair. Could a baked potato be in her future?
The Flapper gave me many tips for baby care when she came to visit the newborn Bride. The one I took to heart was that you should feed a baby a potato a day. I figure that one got off the boat from County Mayo with an Irish ancestor.
So top ‘o the mornin to you and yours. It seems our little Bug is settling into a pair of big Irish green eyes, and her hair is turning copper if you ask me. We’re letting her Mama finish her charts from yesterday. Waiting patiently since we’re headed to brunch with the girls.
Happy Saint Paddy’s day! Go get your green on and do a little jig!
Nothing much new today, except that little thing about the Pope. I wonder what his parachute package will look like? Will they give him a condo in the Vatican with a kitchenette; a “memory” apartment option; maybe a nice gold watch? Just watched a podcast about a Hindu holiday in India called Kumbh Mela. Everyone swims in 2 rivers and gets blessed by these naked holy men who smoke marijuana, in a nutshell. I just knew my Catholic upbringing was lacking…but for me it took a Purim festival to figure out we all have different ways to worship. To practice faith.
This week I took a quick trip alone, back to the Jersey Shore, to my land between 2 rivers, to see the Rocker and Ms Cait in their new, post-Sandy home. After so many years of not driving in the North on their turnpikes and parkways, I was full of faith at the start. My aggressive driving techniques have faded from too many country roads where everyone goes slow and stops for everything. But I crossed the Delaware Bridge with alacrity and managed to avoid bending any fenders. The first thing I noticed was the flags, or lack thereof. The flags that flew over bridges after 9/11 were mostly gone.
Times change, and maybe that’s good. We are really no longer a nation at war, hopefully leaving Afghanistan with the tools to govern themselves.
And speaking of tools. I may have said this before, but whenever a friend’s child would go off to college I’d pack them a tool box for their dorm room – a hammer, screwdriver, some nails. And then, at some point down the road, I told my adult children that I would no longer help them move, from college to first apartment, or apartment to a home. But, I would always be happy to help them “decorate!” Their second floor walk-up in a grand pre-War building is filled with light. Ms Cait found some plants and the Rocker took me on a tour of thrift shops in the neighborhood. And after watching my son build a table for their new nest in Asbury Park, I felt a certain peace.
Hurricane Sandy may have taken away the boardwalk, and the big time developers may have dismantled the famous painted pony carousel and sold them off for a song, but there is a fresh, new vibe in this town. Everywhere we walked, they ran into someone they knew. A friend from Deane Porter elementary school started a vegan restaurant, “Seed to Sprout,” where you can take your loved one for a delicious and healthy Valentine’s prix fixe dinner. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing Cait’s Mom again, and sharing tastes of our sweet potato sushi and kale salad, with gelato that was to die for. It made absolutely no sense that it was made without cream, because it was that yummy. You can “Like” them on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/From-Seed-to-Sprout/323375011030582
Faith is a funny thing. No matter how many storms may roar through your life, in our family, there is something special about the sunshine and strong wind that eventually follows. We will never leave the beach in our hearts.
Happy Valentine’s Day to all you lovebirds.
This was another phrase the Flapper used regularly. As a young child, I wasn’t quite sure what she meant. She was living “hand to mouth” for many years; widowed, crippled by a drunk driver, small children at home. She was radically frugal, as many Depression era people could be, mending clothes and never throwing out food, always finding creative ways to serve leftovers, if we had any. Too proud to take help from the Salvation Army, I thought she meant we take care of our own – save money for my brothers so they could go to college. If there was some left, maybe I’d be able to go, the last of 6. When you grow up poor, having new shoes on your feet and good food on the table was enough. After all, we had each other. Charity was something you tried to avoid, there was little or nothing left to give at the end of the year.
I tend to think of it differently now. Today is “Giving Tuesday” http://givingtuesday.org: “We have a day for giving thanks. We have two for getting deals. This year help create #GivingTuesday™, the giving season’s opening day.”
Bob and I tend to give to those causes we are passionate about, like the Salvation Army. Not only do they have a history with my family, they seem to be the first to show up after a natural disaster. I am also deeply committed to women’s reproductive health and saving Roe vs Wade. It is not counter-intuitive to think that abortion rates would fall in this country with increased access to contraception. So Planned Parenthood is on my list: http://news.yahoo.com/us-abortions-fall-5-pct-biggest-drop-decade-171356037.html And I’m not thinking twice about it. Donating to our colleges will also be on the list.
But if we take my Mother’s advice further, charitable giving also includes delivering bags of food to the local Food Bank. Buying the clothes and toys listed on a giving tree for a disadvantaged child in our community. Volunteering at the Charlottesville Free Clinic. And when our children were young, we would help to serve Christmas dinner at a local church through our synagogue. I can’t stress how important modeling this kind of service is for your children. Time or money, if you can donate to a cause that resonates with you, all the better. Here is a quick read to help you navigate websites for different charities, It’s important to do the research. http://www.forbes.com/sites/nextavenue/2012/11/26/6-mistakes-to-avoid-when-giving-to-charity/
Hurricane Sandy relief efforts will be foremost in my thoughts this year. The Parlor Mob’s music was set to this surfer’s American Red Cross appeal: http://www.surfermag.com/videos/jersey-love/ “There’s nothin’ like Jersey when it’s good.” But if you really want to help our area, there is always Woody’s in Sea Bright, or what is left standing in Sea Bright. “Like” this Facebook page to see what our old neighbors need: https://www.facebook.com/SeaBrightRising?fref=ts
And as my editor reminded me, our little stocking stuffer book, “Tangerine Tango” (just click on the book in the margin) is donating its profits to fight Huntington’s Disease http://www.hdsa.org If you’re not familiar with her blog, I can highly recommend Lisa’s slice of NJ life! http://cyclingrandma.wordpress.com. Happy Giving everyone.
What do Mick Jagger and Bond, James Bond have in common? The passage of time. This year is their Golden Anniversary. Yes folks, my generation has brought you the two most consistently successful entertainment franchises in the history of the universe. The Stones are set to tour the world, post Keith Richard’s head injury in Fiji; and Keith and Mick Jagger are the only original members left standing. Once the symbol of rebellion for me and mine, today they play for big bucks and family outings. Believe me, I loved the Beatles, just not as much as the Stones. I was a teenager on the banks of Lake St Joseph when my conversion began. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_VbImuG71M
“And a band that was once synonymous with a riotous volatility has become — despite all commercial, cultural and chemical odds — a symbol of stability. Members now describe the band with an unexpected word for the Rolling Stones: discipline. ‘It requires quite a bit of discipline to be a Rolling Stone,’ Mr. Richards said. ‘Although it seems to be shambolic, it’s a very disciplined bunch.'”
As a young teen, my brother Dr Jim, always brought me to the Baker Theatre for a Bond double feature. Remember when you could see 2 movies for the price of 1, and get a good half an hour of Wylie Coyote cartoons as a prelude? Sounds like I’m dating myself, and I guess I am. But Bond hasn’t grown old. The Ian Fleming template began with the best, Sean Connery, and now only continues to get better with Daniel Craig. We have a new movie theatre in town, an Imax, and I’ve got a date with Bob on the calendar to see “Skyfall.” Here’s a little walk down memory lane http://www.eonline.com/photos/5837/23-best-and-worst-james-bond-movies/208602
Funny thing is, I saw the Stones at the Meadowlands for my 50th birthday and I’ve really no need to see them again. Unless, maybe someday, when the pre-teen Love Bug wants to see them? Let’s see, Mick will be about 80 by that time. I’ll be holding on so long! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWaR29_sMrs
Here is the octogenarian Great Grandma Ada holding our Sweet Thing – 4 generations of fabulous Rose-Lynn Girls. Bond Girls, move over!
The other night the Bride and Groom had friends over for dinner. Another medical family, with a baby boy just a week older than the Love Bug. You might just say the mamas are nursing buddies too. Together they have figured out how, when and where is a good place to nurse a baby in the Music City. A corner booth in a restaurant – sure; a posh “Mother’s Room” in a fancy store – of course; in the middle of a Halloween party – maybe? I’m amazed watching my daughter juggle all these roles. Wife, new mom and returning to work professional, with a ten week old baby. She has a whole sisterhood of support on this journey, they write text and call with tips on going back to work while continuing to nurse an infant. Not an easy task.
And on the Bride’s first night back from her first hospital shift, our family arrived from Holly Springs, MS to meet the tiny Bug. My sister-in-law truly loves babies, we are sympatico in that way. The Groom was serenading his baby at the end of her first day without Mama – and she was cooing right along. We have another musician in the family – the Rocker, the Bourbon Family and now the Love Bug! Jorja’s daughter (hello, an opera singer), who is about my daughter’s age, is due to have her second baby girl on Christmas Day. The Love Bug was happy to meet her cousins, but fell in love with toddler Antonia.
She told her how much she loves kittens, and tutus and flowers. She demonstrated how to kick your way through a pile of leaves and climb up a dragon at the park. She loves to jump in puddles and dig in the dirt, all with pearls and smiles for her proud GranJorja. Antonia can even take a bow when the occasion allows! I think we have some future Nashville stars coming up.
Nashville rebuilt after the big flood a few years ago. And I know our East Coast communities will too. We are a very resilient bunch. Just saw this on my son’s Facebook page…”sam jeff and I threw a cover band together this morning and we’re playing at porta in like 20 minutes. they have power; food, beers and such. come on down.” Jeff used to play in our garage, Sam is the drummer from Parlor Mob…made me cry just a little as there is so much devastation in Asbury Park. Musicians are the poets of our country. I believe in the Jersey Shore.
Last night I finished a fun and compelling book, “Where’d You Go, Bernadette” by Maria Semple. Happened to pick it up in my favorite old-timey Nashville bookstore, Parnassus. http://www.parnassusbooks.net
It’s about a runaway mom, Bernadette; and her pre-teen daughter, Bee who is trying to find her. But really it’s about so much more. You will laugh at the description of Seattle, the mud slide and the penguins. Oh, it’s about Antarctica too.
And if you’re lucky, you will see a little bit of yourself in the heroine.
And here’s a little Sunday morning pick-me-up I’d like to dedicate to the new dad, the Groom and to the new uncle, the Rocker too. Because they like this kind of guitar pickin…
“Nothing and no one goes unchanged.” If I wanted to write my life story through a music score, this R&B classic would feature prominently. There was a time in my life when this song played non-stop in my car’s tape deck. Written by Benard Ighner in 1974, it was first performed by Quincy Jones, then later in 1977 brilliantly, of course, by George Benson. I most likely was driving through tears over some broken promise – very Dustin Hoffman rushing over the Golden Gate to rescue his lost love.
The biggest recession I’ve lived through was that 70’s show. Post-college and divorce, I filled out the application to be a stewardess for TWA (remember them). My older sister, Kay, was a Lipstick Feminist – flying for National Airlines in the 60’s when she had to ‘make weight’ and could not be married with children. My French was good and I thought I had half-a-chance for an international dream job. But TWA was laying off its pilots and instituted a hiring freeze. People were lining up for gas by the order of numbers in their license plates…that was a pretty bleak time. The Vietnam War was ending, and OPEC decided to quadruple gas prices. It was called “stagflation,” because it was a long period of time (1973-75, and some would argue until 1980) when high unemployment coincided with high inflation. The jobless rate peaked at 9%.
If we compare that time to this prolonged recession, it’s not fair to compare job growth. According to most economists, that number is a “…lagging indicator, which reflects economic conditions in the past rather than pointing to future growth.” Supposedly we’ve come out of a recession in 2009, though you couldn’t tell by most personal narratives. And now we’re heading into a “double-dip” or off the “fiscal cliff!” http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/05/23/fiscal-cliff-recession-government-action-cbo_n_1537692.html And here’s the quote that hits home:
“$1.2 trillion in across-the-board reductions in spending on federal programs would begin to phase in as a result of Congress’ failure late last year to find a comprehensive deal to cut the budget deficit.” One point two TRILLION!
What kind of job did I get back then? I took a job that was funded by a government grant. There was a need for mental health day treatment centers when the flood gates opened from ancient, closing mental institutions. Patients were being returned to their communities, patients who had no idea how to function in society after so many years of institutionalization. And I was hired to actually drive a mini-bus and pick them up from their group homes, and design group activities for them in a an entry-level social work position. Less glamorous than flying to Paris, driving through hallucinations in Pequannock, NJ. But it gave me a start when I thought all was lost.
…to be Outside! Britain’s National Trust has come up with a bucket list for kids, 50 things to do before your child turns 12! It’s a pretty extraordinary list and is meant to get everyone moving and exploring nature, outside. I have to admit I did most of them, though I’m not sure what playing “conkers” is? http://www.telegraph.co.uk/earth/earthnews/9201607/National-Trust-50-things-to-do-before-you-are-12.html Here are the top 5:
1. Climb a tree
2. Roll down a really big hill
3. Camp out in the wild
4. Build a den
5. Skim a stone
I remember the Bride’s first little friend after we moved back to the burbs of NJ. They were in 2nd or 3rd grade and had a mini-science project to do, so I suggested they gather up some sand from our sand box to start. The little girl was terrified of putting her hands in the sand box. It was the first time I thought to myself, “What have I done?” I loved living in the mountains of MA, cross country skiing, taking my children on hikes and swimming in our pond, but I longed to be closer to our family. Well to be honest, there was a young friend in MA who once asked me very straight-faced why I wanted to take them for a walk. She just did not see the need for walking without a purpose, and she was only 5 years old!
Today is the third annual, “Take Our Children to the Park…And Leave Them There Day!” Yes indeed, that Free Range mom is at it again, proposing to parents a little break in their day to teach their children some much needed social skills and a little independence http://freerangekids.wordpress.com/2012/05/08/third-annual-take-our-children-to-the-park-and-leave-them-there-day-coming-up-sat-may-19/ It’s really not a radical idea, in fact it’s empowering. Of course, I would add this depends on where you live and the age of the child, but raising a bubble-wrapped kid is definitely bad for their mental and physical health, in my opinion.
So tie up your sneakers, fire up your grill, climb a tree! Go out into the great outdoors. I’ve just about finished planting my kitchen herbs in pots by the door. Or hey, maybe the Rocker could set up his band on a runway? “What you don’t have you don’t need it now…it’s a beautiful day!
I was listening to a story on NPR the other day about Violins of Hope. It was about how a professor in NC was looking for musical instruments that were played in the concentration camps of WWII. Nazis would pluck Jews with violin cases in their hands off the cattle cars and direct them away from the ovens and into an orchestra. Many had not been played since, but were stored like a scar that can never be erased; “So I opened the violin, and there inside there [were] ashes.” After awhile, it became difficult to drive. http://www.npr.org/2012/04/15/150645417/violins-of-hope-instruments-from-the-holocaust
A week after the seventh day of Passover, Jews around the world mark the Day of Remembrance, or Yom Hashoah, differently. In Israel a siren is heard at sundown and again at sunset for 2 minutes of silence when everything, including traffic, stops. Families in America may light a a yahrzeit (memorial) candle on this day and recite Kadish (the prayer for the dead that never mentions death) in order to bear witness to the unthinkable. http://www.ushmm.org/remembrance/dor/video/?content=whyweremember
Bob’s Grandparents came to this country before the war. Still, many relatives were lost. The only woman I ever met with a number on her arm, passed away on the second day of Passover this year. She was the Mother of a cousin in NY, and was married to another survivor. They both died with their families around them in great old age. They met as youngsters after the war in a refugee camp in Italy. That love can survive that period of time, the Shoah, is miracle enough.
Silence and indifference to suffering, silence and indifference to injustice, fear and hate speech are part of what lead Europe off the brink of sanity in the 1930s. Today, more than 30 death camp violins have been restored and music from the camps has been recreated. Today the Auschwitz violinist can play his instrument again.
MountainMornings 