Auld Lang Syne

And here’s a hand my trusty friend and & gie’s a hand o’ thine,
We’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet for auld lang syne


Time flies. I was going through an old photo album last night, and found pictures from old Halloween parties. I realized that this year marks my 20th Halloween party. Oh my god, talk about evolution! (And no, I was NOT gray then!) You can document changing popular culture just by looking at the pictures from the parties. The first one had maybe 10 people, and only a few were dressed up. I vaguely remember having dry ice on the floor and the cat and dog walking through the fog. Mainly, people sat on the couch and chatted. We were kids. Now we have kids. (Well, except for me…I have cats.) We sat and talked about things that were important to people getting ready to go out into the world, like what kind of car we wanted, what our dream job was, what kind of relationship we thought we would have, what our ideal mate was, etc. I think only two people who came were married at the time, and they had only been married a year or so. I don’t think I quite had down my ideal mate, but I think I’ve found it now. J I found it comforting that I am still in contact with most of the people who came, I guess that shows I keep my friends…or that everyone I know is co-dependent, however you choose to look at it.

Looking back, was I even close to guessing that I’d be where I am now? Uh, no. For clarity, I looked up in my journal. (Yes, I write and then squirrel things away, get over it.) I wanted to be “settled, married, have a job I reasonably like, and be published”. So far, I have achieved 1, 3, and 4. Three will have to wait for a trip to Canada. Did I know that I’d be writing a blog everyday? No, I didn’t even know what a blog was, and the internet was a boring tool used only by researchers, and my Apple II e didn’t have nearly enough memory to surf the ‘net that we now love dearly. (But I did love the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Program, and King’s Quest games and they were all text based!) Anyway, a lot has changed, including me. Who knows where I’ll be in 20 more years? Chances are, a lot of you will still be in contact with me, and we’ll have grown because we endured more crap. But I know one thing, put this year’s party on your calendar; you won’t want to miss it!



* Try Bittersweet and Briers Live at the Indy Folk Series

Booth Shot Lincoln

Poor Lincoln then was heard to say,
And all has gone to rest,
"Of all the actors in this town,
I loved Wilkes Booth the best."

I usually remember my dreams. I blame a psychology class that I took in college where we had to keep a dream journal. I discovered then that once you start writing your dreams down immediately in the morning, you start remembering more than one dream that you had over the night, but I digress. I generally have dreams that seem to be a little Jefferson Airplane-psychodelic funk inspired. (For those of you not old enough, look up the album Surrealistic Pillow) You know the kind of dream I'm talking about, where you’re flying over a building, or swimming through the air, or morphing into something else. Not last night. Last night it was a page from Quantum Leap.

The dream started with my partner and I walking into a dimly-lit theatre lobby. Why was it so dark, you ask? The lobby was lit with gaslights. I pointed that out in my dream. As we walked through the lobby, we passed dozens of other theatre-goers all dressed in their finery. We commented on their clothing as we walked. “Oh, she’s not wearing a corset”, “Hmmm. That Zouave jacket fits her well.” (I was apparently channeling my friend Ericka in the dream.) We also saw our friend Dan there with another mystery woman, and remarked about how well we liked his linen suit. We continued to meander through the crowd and found our seats in the balcony, first row. A stout man, looking suspiously like the singing snowman of animated Christmas-specials, entered the stage and began to make announcements. It is important to note that I did not at this time know what the play was.

The sharp-vested snowman, …er, emcee looked up at us and asked if we were ready for the play to start. We nodded slowly, and the curtain began to rise. At that time we were only about 12 feet above the stage. As the play began, I got a horrible cramp in my hip and decided to get up and stretch. I walked by the folks in the balcony and went inside a side-door that lead to a small closet. I was looking for a plastic cup, but all I could find were glass. “Oh yes, THEY DIDN’T HAVE PLASTIC BACK THEN”, I said to myself. I grabbed a glass tumbler and poured water from a pitcher that was sitting on a dry sink. (Note: Are you beginning to see a pattern here? Stay tuned.)

When I finished pouring the drink I turned around and a handsome young dark-haired man was walking toward me. He was wearing a dark suit, white shirt and black tie. In my dream, I thought if he had a smaller mustache, and straighter hair, he would look a little like Edgar Allan Poe. We chatted and he mentioned that his name was John and he and his brother Edwin were actors.I thought nothing of his remarks as I ended the small-talk and started back to my seat, when I saw that my partner was getting up to come find me.

In trying to get out, she disturbed the row, and a thin man with a beard, his stocky wife and another couple had to move. I recognized one of the men immediately. I said aloud, “Oh look, it’s Majorl Rathbone.” At this point, I was also beginning listen to the words of the play that was being performed. From here, the dream went into fast-forward. The movement of my partner had effected the entire row, and my talking had caused everyone to look back in my direction. What they saw was the man in black (not Johnny Cash, but rather the actor) pointing a gun at the thin man. Fortunately, the row disruption has caused him to miss, and I tripped him as he threw something over the edge and vaulted over the railing to the stage below. (Please note that at some point during this scene I clearly hear the phrase “you sockdologizing old man-trap”). As we all rush to the railing and look down, we see that the stage is now about three stories down, and the actor, John, is just landing on his feet. Interestly, he now has a pistol in one hand, and a knife in another, and begins fighting with a character on stage, vaguely reminiscint of Phantom of the Opera. I said “Wow, how did he do that? He landed on his feet.” My partner responded “Oh, it’s not real, he’s an actor”, and I woke up. Hmmm.

What does this tell us Sigmund? Perhaps that I had a fascination with Abe Lincoln as a child? I know way too much trivia? I spent too long living with someone who specializes in historic clothing? Dan likes linen and I think he is secretly dating someone? Or, do I desperately want to change history? You tell me.



* For an instrumental version try Malcolm Daglish & Grey Larsen's Thunderhead

Circles

“All my life’s a circle, still I wonder why,
Season’s spinning ‘round again, years keep rolling by.”


I have recently begun to plan for the annual Halloween party, in which this year’s theme is Egypt. To get an idea for decorating, I picked up a few books on the subject. I am ashamed to admit that before this week, my total accumulation of knowledge on Egypt was a) when mummies attacked there was generally someone wearing a Fez nearby which caused an unnatural association between mummies and Shrine Club members and b) Cleopatra wore a lot of makeup, looked vaguely like Elizabeth Taylor, and committed suicide via snake. Five thousand years of rich history and all I have to show are the above “facts”, and a few good puns. (Think “pain in the asp”….) So I started on the task of acquiring more info.

After searching for more Egypt information, I came to the stark realization that I will never “know” as much as I want to. The world is so full of wonder for me that I find myself wandering from topic to topic trying to drink it all in. (For those of you familiar with the Family Circus comics, I AM Billy. I can not walk from point A to point B without being distracted by something at point C.) For every morsel I dig up about a civilization or event, there are a dozen more tangents that draw me in. For example, while reading a new book on Egypt, I learn that there was a short, bearded dwarf god that they called “Bes” (or was it “Keith”?). That caused me to think about other gods and what they might be, so I flipped to the section on deities, remembering that my friend Dom recently mentioned Guanyin, the Chinese goddess of mercy, in a blog. Under deities, I learned that there was a cat goddess, Bastet, and that often the Egyptians mummified cats and placed them with the entombed humans, using copious amounts of linen in the process. This made me think about a) Anna and b) Ericka and the textile ladies making linen shirts…I wonder if Ericka has ever mummified anything, since she happily dressed a rat, and did you know that linen is 20% stronger when it’s wet? Intrigued by the process, I had to flip to the section on mummification rituals. When reading about mummification, and the use of Natron, I learned that Egypt had a wonderful spice trade going on, so I flipped to the economic section, but while turning the page, I spied a recipe for hummus that was found in a tomb. Yum. That lead me to more information about ancient Egyptian food items like omelets and beer. Which made me think of my friend Dan, and the mummy we should have made for him. In thinking about mummies, I thought of Mummy Dearest, which made me think of coat hangers, and that reminded me to do laundry. I could go on, but I think you get the picture. There’s so much to learn, and so little time.

We’re going to need a bigger bookshelf.


*Circles, by Harry Chapin

Blowin' in the Wind

“The answer my friend, is blowin’ in the wind.
The answer is blowing in the wind.”

These 10 questions originally came from a French series, "Bouillon de Culture" hosted by Bernard Pivot. They are probably more familiar to many as the questions James Lipton asks at the end of "Inside the Actor's Studio." Please feel free to add your own. I've added my response.


01. What is your favorite word? Schnookie

02.What is your least favorite word? Can’t

03. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally? Love

04. What turns you off? Cowardice

05. What is your favorite curse word? F_ _ _.

06. What sound or noise do you love? Purring of a cat

07. What sound or noise do you hate? Sound of cats performing personal hygiene.

08. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Writer.

09. What profession would you not like to do? Lobster claw rubber-band applier.

10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? Have a seat. Anna will be here soon.

How about you?

Does Your Spearmint Lose It's Flavor on the Bedpost Overnight?

“Oh me, oh my, oh you; I don't know what to do.
Hallelujah, the question is peculiar.
It's got me on the go,I'd give a lot of dough.
If someone here would tell me is it yes or is it no”


In my youth, just a few seasons ago, there were several “riddles” that people told and you proceeded to ask them yes or no questions to ascertain enough information to venture a guess. As a rule, most people gave up soon, and just demanded to know the answer. I came across a few of those puzzlers that I, for some reason, decided to keep all these years.

An example:
“A man lies dead in the middle of the desert, with a pack on his back. How did he die?”

You ask: Did he die from thirst?

I say:NO.

You ask: Did he die from rattlesnake bite?

I say:NO.

You ask: Was he alone?

I say: “Not relevant”

You ask: Is he fully clothed? (You’re weird.)

I say: Yes.

You ask: Did he die from heat exhaustion?

I say:NO.

I say: Give up yet?


You pommel me with organic fruit and demand an answer.

Answer: He was jumping out of a plane and his parachute failed to open.

You pummel me with more fruit.


Today’s puzzler: A man on his way home takes 3 left turns and is greeted by 2 men in masks. Who are these 2 men?



*Try the Irish Rovers for answers to this and other musical questions like “Donald, Where's Your Trousers?”

Lean on Me

“Sometime in our lives
We all have pain, we all have sorrow
But if we are wise
We know there’s always tomorrow” –Bill Withers

Watching the news I’m apt to forget that there is kindness in the world. In our haste to achieve instant gratification with all of our techno-gadgetry we’ve forgotten the human element, but surely it’s just buried somewhere a little deeper than it used to be.

Last weekend while coming back from dinner, we spied a “little old lady” walking briskly down the street by herself and trying to flag a cab. (There aren’t that many cabs in Columbus, she could be there 'til Bush is out of the presidency.) She clutched her purse tightly, and appeared to stumble occasionally, so we decided to go around the block and see if she was okay. When we stopped to ask her if she was all right, she initially looked terrified, then quickly realized that we were not the serial killer types. (We don’t, as a rule, wear tinted eyeglasses circa 1971. Look for yourself, it’s true.) She agreed to let us take her where she needed to go, and although she smelled of alcohol, she seemed really nicely dressed with matching shoes and purse and really rather non-threatening, so don’t lecture me about picking up strangers. (My rule of thumb, is only well accessorized hitch hikers over the age of 70, or weak and frail…sort of how a lion picks out gazelles.)

Anyway, long story short, we took her to where she needed to go, and she threw a $20 bill at us, after we had declined payment.* She said as she was getting out of the car, “You saved my life tonight, they’re aren’t many nice people left.” I’ve been thinking about what she said for days. Was it really that inconceivable that someone would help a perfect stranger? This is where you come in.

Please share with me stories of where you, a friend or family member have been helped by someone you didn’t know, or where you or a friend were the “hero”, helping a stranger in distress. No need to be humble. Prove to me the lady was wrong, that there ARE people who will do the RIGHT thing, even if it’s not the easy way. You’re restore my faith in humanity.

Immediately at the end of the blog, you’ll see the word “comments” in italics. Click on it, and tell me your story.



*We took the $20 and bought donuts for our respective staffs. It seemed like the right thing to do.