Happy Birthday, My Love

Today is The Wife’s birthday!

As is my usual tradition, below is the post that I reuse every year and keep adding to in really ungainly fashion. This post actually first lived on the old BlogSpot incarnation of this site and now it’s over here on WordPress…and I’m not using the old-school WordPress interface anymore, I use the one with “blocks”, and this post, as Dr. Cox might say, ruh-heellly does not work well in blocks, so if the formatting here is a bit “janky”, as the kids say, that’s why.

As I write this, she and I are approaching our 29th anniversary in May, with six years of dating before that…in fact, the 35th anniversary of our very first date was just four days ago, and six days before that was the 35th anniversary of the night in 1991 when she and I were in the same cluster of friends heading off to the local bar to celebrate my then-roommate’s birthday, a night when at some point she and I ended up sitting next to each other and I thought, “Huh, she’s cute….”

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about memories, both specific and not, and how some dreams came true and some did not and how some that did are dreams that I didn’t know I had or maybe I didn’t have them at the time. I did dream about having someone whose hand I could hold during movies or go see the new Star Wars or James Bond with; and I did dream about someone who might hang out in art museums and libraries and cool shopping places. I dreamed about having someone to laugh with, someone to put up with my crap and cook for me and eat what I cooked. I dreamed about being with someone who would be willing to occasionally dispatch a pie into my face. I did not originally dream about having a family, and I certainly never dreamed about having dogs. I didn’t dream about flying with someone to Hawaii or standing on a sidewalk in New York City at 7am on Thanksgiving, waiting for the parade to start. But all those dreams came true. I’m hoping for many more years of dreams coming true, whether they’re dreams I have right now or not.

And now, the messiest post of every one I’ve ever put on this site…and I’m not ever going to clean it up. As always, new stuff is added toward the end of the list; also as always, I don’t edit what I’ve written before or revise anything that’s out of date. Think of some of that stuff as growth rings on a tree…part of the reason of this post is to preserve memories.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Birthday, my love!

 

 

 

 

 

The Wife and the Dee-oh-gee at Taughannock Falls. Aren't they beautiful! #wife #Cane #DogsOfInstagram #greyhound #taughannockfalls

 


Today is The Wife’s birthday! Onward and upward, as always!

 

A brief slideshow of photos (some of which are already on this post, but I like them and it’s my blog, so there they are again!) follows. The song is “Live Forever” by Drew Holcomb and the Neighbors, a wonderful band.

 

Birthday video for The Wife

 


And now, my annual list of memories and things from our years together. (New items on the list are appended to Number 97, alphabetically. I do this because I’m too lazy to renumber all the stuff after that one every year.)

 

Happy Valentines Day to my beautiful wife! This was taken last summer. We probably need a photo of us with the dee-oh-gee....

 

 

Wife and Dee-oh-gee on a nice Christmas walk! #Cane #DogsOfInstagram #greyhound #ChestnutRidge #OrchardPark #wny #winter

 

 

 

 

 

Santa, the Wife, and the dee-oh-gee! #Cane #DogsOfInstagram #greyhound

 

 

 

 

 

We took the dee-oh-gee for his first ice cream. #Cane #DogsOfInstagram #greyhound

 

 

 

 

 

Posing with Patience (or is it Fortitude?)

 

 

 

 

 

The Wife and I at the Erie County Fair!

 

 

 

 

/PHOTO_20151129_213848

 

 

The Wife and the dee-oh-gee in Buffalo Creek, West Seneca. #wny #westseneca

 

 

 

 

 

I am reasonably sure that I was a placeholder all these years for the eventual dog.

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Birthday to Me! VI: The pies go in my face, Huzzah!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1. Her hand fits perfectly into mine, as though our hands were fit for each other.

 

1a. That said, there’s a good chance that she prefers the dog to me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

2. The first time she saw Star Wars was with me. And ET.

 

2a. The first time I saw Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty were with her.

 

3. She used to keep an aquarium before a bunch of moves made us give up the fish. Maybe we’ll do that again someday. But when we started dating, she had two fish, named Ken and Wanda, named after two memorable characters from A Fish Called Wanda. When Ken went belly-up, she called a friend and solemnly informed her, “K-k-k-ken d-d-d-died.” (One of the movie’s running gags is Ken’s stuttering.)

 

4. I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but I’ve converted her from someone who hated coffee into a regular coffee drinker.

 

5. For reasons passing understanding, she has always found Erik Estrada attractive. She and I used to have arguments over who could best the other in a fight: Agent Mulder from The X-Files or Ponch from Chips. (I think Mulder would have blinded Ponch with the beam from those giant blue-beamed flashlights he and Scully were always toting, and then beaten him into submission with his eternally-able-to-get-a-signal cell phone.)

 

6. One of the first things we cooked together was Spanish rice, which is to this day a comfort dish of ours. The first time we made it together was also the first time she’d ever cooked with actual bulb garlic, as opposed to garlic powder. The recipe called for a clove, but she thought the entire head was a clove, so into the rice the entire head of garlic went. That was the best Spanish rice ever.

 

7. A few years ago she baked a Bundt cake for The Daughter’s birthday, but the damned thing stuck in the pan, resulting not in a ring but a mound. So she just mounded it up, glopped the frosting right over the top, and called it a “Volcano Cake”. Now, every year at her birthday, The Daughter says, “Remember the Volcano Cake?”

 

8. Our first date was to see Edward Scissorhands. So, Johnny Depp’s been there since the beginning, from Edward all the way to Captain Jack Sparrow and beyond.

 

9. We used to go out for chicken wings and beer every Thursday night. We didn’t even miss our Thursday night wing night when The Daughter was born: her birth was on a Saturday, and we left the hospital on Tuesday, so at the tender age of five days, The Daughter entered a bar for the first time. This may have made us bad parents, but I don’t think so. A girl’s got to know how to handle herself in a bar, right?

 

9a. She’s not a huge fan of when I post photos of her sleeping.

 

Yes, I will get yelled at for this, but she's so cute when she sleeps...even when it's during her favorite teevee show!

 


10. She insisted on breastfeeding both The Daughter and Little Quinn, which in both cases required lots of pumping. Especially in Little Quinn’s case, since he was never able to eat by mouth. Every drop of breastmilk that entered his body went in via the G-tube, so for as long as her production held up, she pumped six times a day.

 

11. I’ll probably never completely understand how much of herself she sacrificed in fourteen months to keep Little Quinn alive and progressing. It seems, in retrospect, that every free day she had was given to him.

 

12. That same instinct in her kicked in again when Fiona was in danger. She didn’t question the necessity or possibility of spending months flat on her back with her feet inclined, if that was what it took. If commitment was all that was needed, Fiona would be here today. (Of course, if commitment was all that was needed, Little Quinn would be here and Fiona wouldn’t have happened.)

 

13. We used to associate certain teevee shows with the snack foods we’d eat while watching them. NYPDBlue was always chips-and-salsa. ER, when we still watched it, was often good ice cream. Now, good ice cream has been transposed to Grey’s Anatomy.

 

14. “Our” first teevee show was LA Law.

 

15. Subsequent teevee shows of “ours” included ERMad About YouThe PretenderProfilerCSIFirefly, and more.

 

16. On our first Internet account, we set up our combined e-mail identity after the two main characers on The Pretender. We were “Jarod and Miss Parker”. People familiar with the show wondered what that said about our relationship, since Jarod and Miss Parker aren’t allies. In fact, Miss Parker was initially a villain but as the show went on her character became much more complex.

 

17. She started roller blading, got me hooked, and then promptly stopped roller blading. Now she prefers biking.

 

18. It was almost without warning that I met her parents for the first time. We started dating late February 1991; a couple of weeks later was spring break, for a week, so I came home to Buffalo. At the end of that week I tried calling her, only to learn from the old lady she was renting a room from that she wasn’t home because of a death in her family. I remembered her saying something about a sick grandfather, and that’s what turned out to have happened; her grandfather had passed away from Lou Gehrig’s Disease. When I got back out to school, her entire family was there. So I met the future in-laws on the spot. Luckily, I seem to have made some kind of decent impression.

 

19. Our first long trip together was from Iowa to Idaho, to visit her family, a couple of weeks before school began in August of 1992. She had already graduated college, but I was in my senior year. While we were out there, the infamous Ruby Ridge Incident was taking place twenty miles down the road, so all week there were National Guard vehicles on the roads and helicopters overhead.

 

20. I am forever amazed at her ability to take some fabric and create a garment. This skill of hers looks like magic to me.

 

21. Her first pair of overalls were a gift from me. She thought the whole thing was goofy – maybe she still does! – but she wore them for years until at one point they became too small for her, and then a short while later they became too big for her. We didn’t start wearing overalls together until we’d been dating for about a year.

 

22. Back in the 90s, on two different occasions, we picked out Persian kittens. Both were wonderful cats, both are gone now, and we miss them both dearly. The first was a beautiful tortoiseshell Persian named Jasmine; the second was a red Persian named Simba. Both died in the year preceding this blog’s launch.

 

23. Adopting Lester and Julio was The Wife’s idea. I’m still unsold on these two giant lummox goofballs.

 

24. The Wife also took The Daughter to adopt Comet, when The Daughter was only two.

 

25. Shortly after The Wife moved to Western New York to be near me, she adopted a cat from the shelter she named Lilac. That cat never really liked me all that much. Lilac died a few months after Little Quinn passed.

 

25a. She is directly responsible for all the animals with whom we currently live.

 

Indulging Lester

 

 

Why they invented hotel rooms

 

 

Julio's favorite position

 

 

Cats and Wife. (And my left shoulder)

 

 

Snowmageddon '14, continued

 

 

Day 59: Clear wife, blurry dog. #100DaysOfHappiness #NewDog

 

 

The Wife is unimpressed with Julio's uninvited advances. (Notice Lester in the background.)
26. She loves to laugh, particularly at my expense. She is convinced I don’t think she’s funny, but that’s just not the case.

 

27. Things with which she has a deft touch include: a pair of scissors, a needle and thread, a kitchen knife, the mixer, bread dough, a screwdriver, a lug wrench, and a shot glass.

 

28. It irritates her that The Daughter has inherited my tolerance for sunlight — I tan, whereas The Wife burns.

 

29. The Wife likes to read, albeit not quite as much as I do. She always has a book going, and she reads every day.

 

30. She never used to use a bookmark, until I finally decided I was tired of watching her flip through a book looking for a passage that was familiar to her so she could find her place. I bought her a bookmark.

 

31. She loves nuts – except for walnuts and pecans, which I love. This makes it occasionally difficult find good brownies and similar items in bakeries, since many people default to putting pecans or walnuts in their brownies or other chocolate cookies.

 

32. When I first met her, she was a huge Anne Rice fan and read most of what Rice wrote until she decided that Rice’s output wasn’t interesting her much anymore. Since then she’s read a lot of other authors, including a lot of unfamiliar names whose books I’ve plucked from the stacks of offerings at library book sales over the years. Interesting how obscure even the bestsellers of yesteryear eventually become, huh? Currently she really loves Gregory Maguire, the Wicked guy.

 

33. When we first met, she was a Washington Redskins fan. So of course, the first Super Bowl we were together was the one where the Redskins knocked the Bills on their collective arse. Oh well, at least she hated the Cowboys.

 

34. She prefers her KFC “extra crispy”, where I’m an “Original Recipe” guy.

 

35. Movies that are particularly meaningful or nostalgic to us, in addition to Edward Scissorhands and Star Wars are Dances With WolvesTitanicThe Lord of the RingsSingin’ in the Rain, and the James Bond movies.

 

36. For some reason we didn’t take any pictures when we were on our honeymoon or when we were on our vacation to Disney a year later. I think we were between working cameras at those points…but lately I really wish we’d have addressed that at the time.

 

37. Things we did on our honeymoon to Cape Cod, Boston, and New Hampshire: road a boat out to sea to watch the whales; visited the New England Aquarium; ate dim sum in Boston’s Chinatown; bought lots of kitchenware at an outlet strip (don’t laugh, we still have some of that stuff); visited the Boston Science Museum. While doing two days in Boston we stayed at a hotel about forty miles out and road the train into town; on the second day, on the way back, we fell asleep on each other’s shoulders.

 

38. Our first argument as a couple resulted from a common misunderstanding between people when one is from Iowa and one is just living in Iowa for a while. I told her we’d meet for dinner, so she showed up at noon and got annoyed because I wasn’t there. Well, duh! I said “dinner”, not “lunch”. Except, remember, she’s a native Iowan, which means instead of eating breakfast, lunch and dinner like most (ahem) normal folks, she ate breakfast, dinner and supper. Thankfully, I’ve converted her since then. Whew!

 

39. Our first wedding anniversary saw us spending a week at Walt Disney World. What a wonderful time that was! Even if she managed to rip her toenail out two days into the trip, thus requiring me to push her around in a wheelchair the whole time after that.

 

40. She had long hair when we started dating, and I had short hair. Now we’ve reversed that.

 

41. Before we started dating, I had a beard. When I became interested in her, I shaved it so I’d look better. Then, I learned that she likes facial hair. So I grew the beard back a while later.

 

42. Foods I’ve tried because of her: asparagus, squash, rhubarb, grapefruit, and more that I don’t recall.

 

43. She loves George Carlin.

 

44. She bought me my first cell phone, and my second cell phone.

 

45. When we were at the Erie County Fair in 2001, she wandered off to look at the Bernina sewing machines. When I came by ten minutes or so later, she was in the process of buying a Bernina sewing machine. I didn’t complain; I just stood there, kind of looking shell-shocked.

 

46. Leading up to our wedding, she rigidly adhered to the notion that the groom should not see the bride in her wedding dress until she comes round the corner to walk down the aisle. So I didn’t see her until she came round the corner to walk down the aisle.

 

47. Starting a family was her idea. Not that I was against it; I figured we’d get there eventually. She just picked the “eventually”.

 

48. She picked The Daughter’s first name, so I got to pick her middle name.

 

48a. And now, this:

 

Old Photos of Little Quinn

 


49. Since Thanksgiving Break at college was only a four day weekend, I didn’t go home for T-giving my junior year; instead, I spent the weekend with her. We went to see her extended family out in Storm Lake, Iowa, which is on the other side of the state. Since she has family over there on both sides of the family, we ended up having two Thanksgiving dinners that day. Some part of me is still full from those two meals.

 

50. Iowa delicacies that The Wife and I share are pork tenderloin sandwiches and broasted chicken.

 

51. Some of our early dates were sufficiently cheap that we had to look for ATM machines that would dispense cash in five dollar denominations.

 

52. She bought Simba, the above-mentioned red Persian kitten, while we were on a shopping trip to Erie, PA. She fell in love with the kitten as soon as she saw him in the pet store; we then spent the rest of the day walking around the mall with me listening to her as she tried to talk herself out of buying him. (Persian kittens are pricey little buggers.) Finally, while we were at dinner at Red Lobster, she decided to pull the trigger.

 

53. Before Little Quinn, the most heartbroken I ever saw The Wife was the day we finally had to end Simba’s life. His kidneys were in failure.

 

54. Great gifts she’s bought me through the years: my current winter coat, a cupboard-full of drinking vessels of all types, candles, incense burners, the Star Wars original trilogy on DVD, my anniversary edition of The Lord of the Rings with paintings by Alan Lee, my star sapphire ring, my current wristwatch, and many more.

 

55. The first thing she ever gave me: a stuffed bear, around whose neck she tied a lavender ribbon. I think she doused it with perfume. I named that bear “Bertrand”, after philosopher Bertrand Russell.

 

56. The first thing I bought her: a little two-inch high figurine of a laughing Buddha. I think this confused her a bit.

 

57. Despite my best efforts for a while, she’s never much warmed to baseball. That used to bother me, but these days that doesn’t bug me much at all. I’m pretty cool to baseball myself now.

 

58. For a few years we went to Cedar Point each fall. We haven’t been there in a long time, but I always found being there with her in the fall, in the cool air, pretty romantic. I loved riding the Giant Wheel after dark, sitting up there with her hand in mine, looking out over Lake Erie.

 

59. At Cedar Point, she decided that she liked this one coaster that does loops, so I stayed on the ground while she rode it. I’m terrified of those things.

 

60. Why don’t we play mini golf more often? We both love mini golf. The Daughter loves mini golf. What gives?

 

61. One day in 1996, we were eating lunch in Buffalo when we had “The Discussion”. Any guy who’s ever been dating the same girl for a period of time measurable in years will know what “The Discussion” is. So I agreed, it was time for us to take the “next step”. Later on, while she was having her eyes examined at LensCrafters, I bopped over to Penney’s to buy her a ring. I chose a nice emerald one that looked really pretty. Sadly, they didn’t have it in her size, so they had to order it, which would take three weeks. So I figured, OK, I’ll get the ring in three weeks and make this thing official. Yay, Me!

 

62. The next day, she proposed to me.

 

63. Three weeks later I showed up to get the ring. They had it, but they couldn’t find the paperwork, so some poor guy at the pickup counter at Penney’s spent his entire lunch hour trying to find the paperwork so I could give my already-fiancee her engagement ring.

 

64. I don’t remember exactly when we picked out her wedding rings, but we each have an Irish wedding band, and each ring is set with the other person’s birthstone. So my ring is set with four amethysts, which is her birthstone; hers is set with four sapphires, which is mine.

 

65. For years I wore my ring incorrectly. Apparently there’s one way to wear an Irish wedding band that signifies being married, and another that signifies being single. I was wearing mine the “single” way. I was alerted to this by a guy I worked with at The Store; he said, “Yeah, you’re telling all the women that you’re available.” I replied, “Yeah, and I’m beating them off with a stick.”

 

66. On our honeymoon, it was important to her that she at least get to dip her toes in the Atlantic Ocean. So she did. The water was very cold, though.

 

66a. She replicated this moment years later when we took a trip to the Jersey Shore.

 

To the sea!

 


66b. We returned two years later.

 

The Wife enjoys a bit of quiet. #CapeMay

 


67. It always bugged her mother that she saw Niagara Falls before her mother did. Later we took her mother to Niagara when she was out for a visit.

 

68. During the summer of 1991, when I was at home and she was still in Iowa, she came to spend a week with me. I took her to Buffalo and to Toronto, on the way to which we stopped to see Niagara Falls for her first time.

 

69. She was really confused the first time a Japanese tourist asked her to take his picture in front of the Falls.

 

70. At the time our beer of choice was Labatt’s. It’s pronounced “la-BATS”, but we had a family friend at the time who liked to say it “LAB-uhts”, which is how I said it at college just for fun and habit. So when she visited me that summer, we went to the bar where this friend hung out, and he was so impressed when she ordered a “LAB-uhts”.

 

71. Our favorite mixed drink in college was the sloe gin fizz. A few years ago I tried making these again, discovering that her tastes had changed and she now found them sickeningly sweet. I like them still, but yeah, they’re sugary. (And pink. When I told a friend at work who knows everything about liquor that I’d bought some sloe gin, he laughed and said, “Oh good! Now you can make pink drinks!”)

 

72. She taught me the right way to do laundry.

 

73. I taught her the right way to crack open crab legs so as to not mangle the meat.

 

74. Our first major mistake of parenting was taking The Daughter to a fireworks display on the Fourth of July in 1999. The Daughter was all of fifteen days old. This was the big display in Lakewood, NY, which is right on the banks of Lake Chautauqua. The Daughter did not respond well to the fireworks detonating right over our heads; the sounds were bad and for years afterwards The Daughter was very scared of loud sounds.

 

75. We always say that we should go camping. We never actually do go camping. We need to do more camping.

 

76. Once for dinner I made some frozen cheese ravioli with sauce, a favorite meal of ours that we hadn’t had in a long time. She said that she was looking forward to “eating some cheesy goodness”. Unfortunately, the raviolis were a bit on the old and tough side, and the cheese never got nice and melty, so after the meal, she commented, “That wasn’t really cheesy goodness.”

 

77. She likes eggs over-easy. I’m not a big fan of those, but I try to make them for her when she’s getting over being sick.

 

78. She makes fun of my over-reliance on boxed mixes in the kitchen.

 

78a. I’m much better about this now. Her main kitchen complaint about me is that I make way too big a mess when I cook.

 

79. In 1993, when Cheers aired its final episode, she bought pizza for my roommate and I.

 

80. She only swears when she’s really annoyed.

 

81. She is not happy that her nine-year-old, fourth-grade daughter is now the same shoe size as she is.

 

82. A while back she had her hair colored a brighter shade of blond than is her natural color. It was awesome.

 

83. Before that she experimented with red. I’ve tried talking her into doing that again, but no dice.

 

84. When my aunt met her the night before our wedding, she made a comment to the effect that I was to be commended for adding blond hair and blue eyes to our gene pool.

 

85. The Daughter has blond hair and blue eyes. So did Little Quinn.

 

86. I’m not sure there’s a variety of seafood she dislikes.

 

87. I love the way she looks when she’s just come home from work and changed into her PJ’s.

 

88. Adopting Lester and Julio was her idea, but she claims the upper hand on that anyway because she was helping out my mother.

 

89. For some reason, The Daughter and I like to bring up at the dinner table the fact that The Wife, as a kid, had to help the family out on Chicken Butchering Day. I don’t know why.

 

90. She thinks Orlando Bloom is really attractive. I don’t see it, myself, but you can’t argue these things.

 

91. For my birthday in 1992 she drove me to Dyersville, IA so I could see the Field of Dreams.

 

92. If I want to spoil her, all I have to do is buy her blush wine, cashews, olives and chocolate. Cake helps, too.

 

93. She spoils me by looking the other way when I go to Borders; by making me waffles or French toast or Spanish rice; by cleaning the kitchen after I’ve messed it up; by indulging my love of pie; and a thousand other ways.

 

94. “You want me to hit you in the face with a pie?”
“Sure, it’ll be fun!”
“Kinda weird, isn’t it?”
“Well, yeah, but still fun, right?”
“I dunno, let’s find out.”

It did take her a couple of attempts to nail down her technique, but she quickly realized she didn’t need to be super gentle with the pie. And really, folks, if you haven’t taken a pie in the face from the person you love, well…I’m not sure what you’re waiting for!

 

 

 

If you can't be ridiculously silly with the person you love, you're doing it wrong! Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!! #ValentinesDay #pieintheface #overalls #splat #SillinessIsAwesome

 

Splat! The meeting of Pie and Face

 

Patrick Starfish is surprised by my fate. #PatrickStarfish #pieintheface #overalls #splat

 

 

 

 

 

 

94a. We haven’t done this in a really long time. Hmmmm….


95. I know I’ve found the perfect girl for me when she describes our Thanksgiving in 2006 as being perfect because, after dinner, we went to see Casino Royale. In her words: “We had a big turkey dinner, and then we watched James Bond kill people.”

 

96. We both love laughing at David Caruso on CSI Miami.

 

96a. Sadly, CSI Miami is long gone, but now we thrill to the adventures of Team Machine on Person of Interest, of Castle and Beckett on Castle, and we enjoy Alton Brown’s delicious brand of pure evil on Cutthroat Kitchen.

 

97. One time when we were working out at the Y, and she got so engrossed in what she was doing that when I approached her, she didn’t recognize me at first.

 

97a. She loves lilacs.

 

Rochester Lilac Festival. #LilacFestival #Rochester

 


97b. She loves sushi, so for a while our Saturday night dinner tradition was I’d buy her sushi at The Store, and she’d eat that while I had a “charcuterie” plate of my own. (I think we can all agree that “charcuterie” is the fancy-schmancy word for “cheese and crackers,” yes? Kind of like how “grits” turned into “polenta” at some point and started commanding $15 a plate?) But she’d eye my cheese and ask for a bite or two. Over time this morphed into her and I both having the cheese plate.

 

But she still loves the sushi, and I still have to buy it for her! It just becomes her lunch at work on Mondays. No escape!

 

97c. While driving once:

 

ME: Huh.
HER: What?
ME: I know I’ve heard this piece but I don’t know what it is.
HER: [into phone] What is this song? [holds phone to speaker, then looks at phone] It’s the fourth movement of Mozart’s Eine kleine nachtmusik.
ME: Wow, I didn’t know your phone could do that.
HER: I’m pretty sure it’s standard now! Your phone can do it too!
ME: Whoa….

 

See? She teaches me things.

 

97d. For years she worked in the restaurant biz, which meant working just about all of the major holidays and struggling just to use her allotted vacation time. Now, she’s in banking, so not only does she get the holidays off, she gets off all of them, including the ones I don’t! (I have to work MLK Day, Presidents Day, and the other “lesser” holidays that are still “No mail and no banks” days. She gets ’em off now.) She is not shy about gloating about this.

 

97e. She continues to make fun of my previous claims that I “am not a dog person”. To my recollection I never made any claims along those lines, just that I was unfamiliar with dogs, not that I disliked dogs. She just shakes her head and keeps on being amused at how much Cane and Carla like me. What can I say!

 

97f. Her, a few years ago: “Hey, there’s this event where people who own greyhounds all meet up in the Finger Lakes and then we all tour around to wineries and taste wine and have fun with our dogs! Wanna go?” We just got back from our fourth time on that trip the day before yesterday.

 

 

 

97g. This last year has been different, I’ll say that. We’re eating out a lot and staying home and watching movies in bed and so on. Aside from our not being able to go out to eat or to see movies, and the cancellation of several of our favorite festival events, this crisis really hasn’t impacted our lifestyles much at all. I’m glad she’s the one I’m enduring the pandemic with!

97h. Exploring Oahu with her at my side was wonderful. We both kept getting amazed by the same things!

97i. Sometimes it’s hard to find a teevee show that she likes, but when I do find one, it’s a blast as references from those shows will creep into our vernacular.

97j. We tend to get mutually weepy over the more emotional reveals on The Repair Shop.

97k. This last year has had some difficulties of its own, over and above the COVID struggles, but we’ve weathered all of it and continue to weather it all.

97l. Our opinions differed wildly on No Time To Die. Hey, it happens! Kinda like her distaste for coconut. (Which is weird, let’s be honest.)

New for 2023! 97m. She’s had a couple of surgeries in recent years that led to some recovery time and bed-rest, which meant she watched a lot of streaming shows. I didn’t realize what kind of stuff she was streaming until one night we were watching Saturday Night Live and she started laughing knowingly at this sketch. I asked, “Are you watching a lot of murder shows these days?”

97n. On weekends I usually get up before she does, so I’ll come downstairs and make my coffee and get hers set up to go. My signal that she is getting up for good is when she actually opens the blinds in the bedroom; when I hear that, I’m to get up and turn on the coffee. (Sometimes I’m listening to music on my earbuds and I don’t hear the blinds and then she comes downstairs and gives me the “No coffee?!” look. Fellas, try to avoid the “No coffee?!” look.)

 

97o. No, it doesn’t bother me at all that Carla prefers to sit with her on the love seat when we’re watching teevee at night as opposed to sitting with me on the couch. Harumph.

 

97p. If I could go back in time and make exactly one change to our wedding day? Yup. We’re all doing the “Rock the Boat” dance made famous by Derry Girls.

 

97q: Related to 97n above, I’ve been up for 45 minutes while she was trying to doze a bit more. This was thwarted by our cats, who decided to have rompies all over the upstairs, including the bed with her in it. As I write this she has just come downstairs, called the cats assholes, and is now making her coffee.

 

97r: Stay tuned, but she has started the ball rolling for adopting another greyhound. Yes, I’m on board, but this one’s going to have some pretty big pawprints to fill. (This weekend is a little bittersweet because this is when we’d be on our annual greyhound-meetup excursion to the Finger Lakes wine country.)

 

97s. Maybe I mentioned this above someplace, I don’t know, but I love how she has chosen to approach her dietary restrictions with a sense of adventure and discovery. We have found more great places to eat and discovered more terrific foods to cook in the years since her celiac diagnosis than we did before, and it’s not like we were dull sticks-in-the-mud in the food department to begin with! She’s always loved trying new foods and spicing things up, which is a real blessing if you’re at all familiar with the Monument to Blandness that is the usual Iowa spice rack.

 

97t. I’ve come to really like coming home from work, looking up as I pull into the driveway, and seeing her in her home office. Sometimes there will be a dog looking back down at me, which is also cool.

 

97u. Apparently she takes some of the chocolate from the home supply that I maintain to her desk at work, and some of her coworkers know she has a chocolate stash, so sometimes that gets shared around. I do the “I’m not feeding all the kids in the neighborhood!” thing, you know, the one where your kid wants to grab a dozen freezy-pops from the freezer for all the friends on a hot summer day and despite your protest you let it happen. Because hey, it’s chocolate and that increases the net happiness in the world.

 

97v. Our last cinematic disagreement came after watching Top Gun: Maverick, which I really liked (despite my general lack of enthusiasm for the original movie). She was distracted by the impossibility of Tom Cruise having perfectly brown hair at this point in his life. I’m hoping this doesn’t hurt our enjoyment of the upcoming Mission: Impossible flicks….

 

97w. We have developed a way of simultaneously groaning wistfully whenever an unexpected reference to Hawaii shows up on teevee, like the Netflix show we’ve been watching about American street food, and at the end of one episode the preview for the next said, “Next time: Oahu!”, with a big shot of Waikiki.

 

97x. Bam! The future of rock and roll! (No, this has nothing at all to do with The Wife, but come on, now.)

 

NEW FOR 2024!!! 97y. This last year was a struggle…my mom’s last months of struggles which played out amidst The Wife’s own struggles. Are things getting better? Who knows…but I hope so.

 

97z. Regarding item 97r above: if you’ve been paying attention, you know there’s a new greyhound in town. Unfortunately, his entry into our home has not been without its own ongoing challenges. But again, we’re getting there!

 

97aa. I’m just now realizing that I took zero photos of The Wife this past year. This is a big sign of what a rough year it was. It’s time to start turning that shit around!

 

97ab. No, wait! I did get a lovely shot of her just last weekend! Amazing that I own this great new camera and I haven’t taken enough photos of her yet. But anyway:

 

 

 

 

2025!!!

97ac. Her birthday present this year? We’re going to see Raiders of the Lost Ark at Kleinhans Music Hall, with the Buffalo Philharmonic doing the music. Yay! But that’s not until May 2. I always feel a little weird giving tickets to something a few months after the gift-giving occasion for the gift-giving occasion, but it’s still a gift!

97ad. Note to self: Order the cake for this weekend.

97ae. See below for new photos with her and Hobbes. This post has become sufficiently unwieldy through multiple updates over the years, and multiple versions of WordPress, that it’s just easier.

97af. Accommodating her celiac needs is sometimes a challenge, but on the upside, I now know where to get a good breakfast sandwich pretty anywhere between Buffalo and Syracuse!

97ag. On work mornings we’re both often making our coffee at the same time. I usually let her use the creamer first. Yesterday she gets her coffee all dosed-up the way she wants it, and then she hands me the container, saying “It’s all yours.” There’s about a quarter-teaspoon left in there. She was amused by this.

97ah. For Christmas this past year I gave her the gift of warmth: a knitted cowl to wear around her neck, a plug-in seat-warmer for her car, and an electric blanket. I guess you reach a point where warmth is the best gift.

97ai. On a sad note…if I had to learn that my mother had died from someone, I’m glad it was her.

97aj. I guess in the end it’s all about relationships, and how the friends you surround yourself with help get you through the day–oh wait, sorry. I slipped into “J.D.’s episode-closing monologue” mode there. We just completed a re-watch of Scrubs last night. Next we’ll probably start a complete rewatch of Letterkenny. Pitter patter!

2026!!!!!

97ak. “I’d sit my bare ass on the Big Nickel just to have you flick some debris off my shirt, I swear to God I’d be so good to ya.” She’s my Laura Mohr. IYKYK.

97al. I guess when you’re with someone long enough, you get to the point when you’re driving them to their surgical procedures….

97am. I’m giving her a bottle of Veuve Clicquot! She knows by the time you are reading this.

97an. Since last year she bought a Subaru Forester. When we first started dating, her car was a Subaru. It’s like we’ve come full circle! (Only this one has seat warmers. That’s a thing we didn’t have when we were Two Yoots.)

97ao. Our new Sunday afternoon routine, when we’re at home: I make popcorn and then she eats some while she watches a Murder Show on the teevee. (I watch YouTube videos and stuff while I consume my share.)

97ap. Next month we’re going to a huge gluten-free food expo in Mississaugua, ON. This is the type of thing we do now, and it’s awesome.

97aq. She puts up with me when I dawdle and linger places because I’m taking photos.

97ar. When she works at home, lots of times Carla goes and hangs out with her. It’s very cute.

97as. We’ve discovered Indian food of late. Oh yeah. Why did we never eat Indian food until relatively recently? How do I know???

97at. A few months ago I saw that The Guns of Navarone was on Netflix, and it was my week to pick the movie, because I watched it years ago and it’s really good! A terrific and entertaining war thriller with good action and a pulse-pounding climax! Yay! Only…she didn’t like it, and she thought I was mad at her and picked a movie on purpose that we didn’t like. I was all, “Uhhh…I really didn’t think you’d hate it.” Oops. It happens.

97au. Her current greyhound, Hobbes, is admittedly a nice dog. He is also a giant booger who vocalizes in squeaks, wakes me up to pee every weekend morning no later than 7am, and when I go to give him food, runs for his crate to enjoy the treat. From The Wife, he will accept food wherever he is.

97av. She sends me dog videos. Cute ones, funny ones, cute and funny ones. This is a good thing and I hope it never stops.

98. Maybe this is a personal failing on my part, but I can’t bear it when she cries. It kills me inside. But I’m trying to get better at this, since as Gandalf said, “Not all tears are an evil.”

99. I wish we were living lives that didn’t include so many tears.

100. I love her more than I did last week at this time.

101. Number 100 on this list will be equally true next week at this time. And the week after. And so on.

102. She makes me happier than I thought possible.

103. She…oh, I guess that’s where I need to stop. I love you, honey!

Chilly morning at the Farmers Market. I had to buy The Wife a coffee. #wife #EastAurora #wny
Day 65: Tried taking a photo of my Beautiful Wife looking at Taughannock Falls, but she turned her head toward me at the last second! #100DaysOfHappiness

 

The Wife, with horse. #eriecountyfair #Wife

 

Pumpkinville: Happy wife, irritated Daughter

 

Erie County Fair: A couple

 

 

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Tuesday Tones (Black History Month)

Oh, is THIS piece a “banger”, as the kids say! (A really good song is a banger now. Up ’til now, if you said “banger” to me, I’d have assumed you were talking about a British breakfast sausage.) Composer Kevin Day‘s Concerto for Wind Ensemble is a thrilling virtuoso showpiece that puts every section of the wind ensemble on full display. It is energetic and jazzy and rhythmic and lyrical, and it’s one of the most purely enjoyable pieces I’ve listened to as a new (to me) work in a long time. I have really enjoyed hearing this piece, and I’m sure I’ll be returning to it and to Dr. Day’s music quite a bit moving forward.

From Dr. Day’s bio:

Dr. Kevin Day (b. 1996) is an award-winning, multi-disciplinary composer, jazz pianist and conductor based in Las Vegas, Nevada. Internationally acclaimed as one of the world’s leading musical voices, Dr. Day’s work is known as a vibrant exploration of diverse musical traditions from contemporary classical, cinematic, jazz, R&B, Soul and more. A unique voice in the world of classical music, Dr. Day takes inspiration from a broad range of sources, including romanticism, late 20th century music, jazz fusion and gospel. Across all areas, his work explores the complex interplay of rhythm, texture and melody across genres. 

Here are Dr. Day’s notes for the work:

After several fruitful conversations with Dr. Cynthia Johnston Turner, director of bands at the University of Georgia, the concept for the Concerto for Wind Ensemble began to take form. We had talked about doing a potential commission for the UGA Hodgson Wind Ensemble, and ultimately the conversation led to the idea of doing a substantial work to further the wind band repertoire. I knew off the bat that I wanted to write something that reflected my upbringing as a young black man and the musical culture that I grew up in, which hasn’t always been represented in concert band music.

My experience and the inspiration for this work come from a world of various intersections. My father, born in West Virginia, was a hip-hop producer in the late 1980s who worked in Southern California, and my mother (also from West Virginia) was a gospel singer. During my childhood, I grew up listening to hip-hop, R&B, jazz, and gospel music. Simultaneously, I was learning classical music through playing in band, and later orchestra. I was playing jazz and gospel music on piano, while also playing classical music on euphonium and tuba. This dual learning environment had a huge impact on my musicianship and my development as a composer. While these words had been separated in my head when I was growing up, in this work I intentionally wanted to merge them together in new fusions, paying homage to my parents, the culture I grew up in, and to the wind band world.

What came from this concept is this Concerto for Wind Ensemble, a five-movement work for band that is my most ambitious composition to date, and a work that took almost two years to compose. The movements entitled Flow, Riff, Vibe, Soul, and Jam reflect the various musical styles that I have been immersed in. Vibe and Soul are specifically dedicated to my parents, without whom I could not have made it this far. I am immensely grateful to Dr. Turner and to the consortium members of this work, who believed in my vision and sought to bring this work to life. I’m happy to share this contribution and love letter to the wind band and to the culture.

Once again I note that the concert band and wind ensemble never seem to get the respect they are due as expressive music ensembles in this country and maybe beyond. Wind ensembles are typically seen as “student” groups, and professional ones are few and far between. I truly wish that would change, and works like Kevin Day’s Concerto for Wind Ensemble are a big reason why. This is fantastic music!

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Closer…closer….

And now, a Sequence.

Increasing detail from Fjall, by Anna Boberg (1864-1935). This painting was recently on display at the Buffalo AKG. I found its depiction fascinating by the way more detail is revealed with each step you take toward it.

Posted in On Art | Tagged | 1 Comment

Sunday Stealing, and an announcement!

First, the announcement: I sent out a new installment of the newsletter the other day! This one was in remembrance of actor/director/playwright Tom Noonan, who died recently. Please check it out and subscribe! I try to send it twice a month, with usually a long piece or essay.

Now, for the weekly quiz-thing that I don’t always do weekly but this week I am because it’s prompt-based, which is interesting. Here’s the details:

This week we’re playing word association as suggested by a blogger named Dawn Camp. She said these words “tickled her fancy,” and let’s see if they inspire you. Feel free to answer with either a single word or a thought/memory. It’s up to you.

Word Association. Share what comes to mind when you hear the word …

OK, this sounds interesting! Here we go!

1. Biscuit

OK, where to go with this one? I love biscuits…here we’re talking about the American kind, the fluffy pastry-layered ones with wonderful buttery saltiness. But I learned quite a while back that this is not what British people mean by “biscuit”…but right now, I’m actually thinking of something I read many years ago in a book called The Musician’s World, which is a collection of excerpts from the correspondence of great composers. One of Richard Wagner’s letters, to poet Mathilde Wesendonck (with whom he was cheating on his first wife, Minna), thanks her for a gift of biscuits. Now, this is in translation, so I’m still fuzzy on what exactly Wagner is describing here, food-wise, but here’s an excerpt of the letter. I like this because it shows how weirdly capricious creative people can be about what enables them to get the work done:

Child, child! The biscuits did help; they suddenly jerked me out of a bad path where I had been stuck for a week, unable to go further. Yesterday my attempts to work were miserably unsuccessful. I was in a shocking humor, and gave it vent in a long letter to Liszt in which I informed him that I had come to the end of my composing days…

When the biscuits arrived, I realized what I had been lacking; the biscuits I had here were much too salty, so they could not give me any sensible ideas; but when I took the sweet ones I had always been accustomed to, and dipped them in milk, everything suddenly fell into place. And so I threw aside the revision and went back to composing, on the story of the woman physician from far away…Heavens, how much can be achieved by the right sort of biscuits! Biscuits! that is the proper remedy for composers when they get stuck–but they must be the right kind.

Richard Wagner was a really strange dude…but I’m lying if I didn’t admit that my own creative juices are not sometimes jump-started by some food or another.

2. Crayon

People my age may remember that the big box of Crayolas (the 64-pack, the one that came with the sharpener in the back of the box) would include a color called “Flesh”, so you could color the people in your pictures with the proper flesh color…making certain specific assumptions, obviously, as to what a “proper” flesh color is.

Well, more recently, this seems to be the way of things now:

Not everything is getting worse!

3. Warmth

It’s late February in Buffalo. Warmth is an envied commodity! My main need now, in terms of warmth, is a pair of gloves that (a) keeps my hands comfortably warm, and (b) allows for easy operation of the buttons and dials on my camera. I haven’t looked too deeply for this sort of thing yet, but I imagine I will sometime next year as the temps start falling again. I have a pair of warm gloves that have fingertips that allow for operation of touchscreens, but they’re not super reliable on that score, and I have another pair of gloves that is super reliable on that score, but they’re not particularly warm. I also have a pair of mitten-gloves: the mitten part is actually a flap that folds back, exposing your fingers if you need access. This is currently my best option. I have seen gloves optimized for photographers where the individual fingertips open up and fold back, allowing for operating camera controls, but I haven’t tried them. We’ll see.

4. Flip

Wilson?

Or the cocktail? A flip is apparently (I’ve never had one) a mixture of a spirit, egg, sugar, and spice. (Add cream and you have a nog.) I don’t know that these are made much these days; I’d have to look them up. But I remember reading about the original flip, in a history book I have that centers rum (God, I love history writers!). The original flip was a mixture of beer, rum, and sugar, and you served it hot after heating it by sticking a red-hot iron in it! Yes, that sounds gross. Yes, I would taste it if offered, but I wouldn’t pay for the pleasure.

5. Slush

This will be the dominant landscape feature of my region starting sometime in the next three or four weeks, and likely remaining so until May. Stupid WNY spring, I hate it.

6. Wing

What else?

These are the wings (well, some of them, I fried up a 5-lb bag containing 40-some pieces of wingy goodness) I made on Super Bowl Sunday. And we don’t even watch the game! But being non-observant doesn’t mean that we can’t enjoy the same kind of yummy not-that-good-for-you food that that day brings to all. No, these aren’t Buffalo-style wings; I don’t make those at home. No particular reason, really, other than the fact that everybody around here makes good Buffalo wings, so why make here what I can get when I go out? Maybe I’ll write a post on how these got made sometime soon…or maybe it’ll end up in video form, I did make some footage. We’ll see. But these were very tasty. The wing is a wonderful part of the bird! (In terms of home wing making, I prefer grilling to deep-frying.)

7. Candle

OK, here’s a random Star Trek word association! There’s an episode from the seventh, and final, season of Star Trek: The Next Generation called “Sub Rosa” in which Dr. Crusher falls in love with a ghost who was her grandmother’s lover, or some such thing. It’s a very strange episode that is sufficiently disliked by fandom to often be cited as a good example of the worst Trek stories. I’ve only seen the episode one time, when it originally aired, and I remember it being a really goofy episode indeed. And because this is Trek and there’s nothing truly supernatural in Trek, the ghost is an alien who lives inside a candle. In the first part of the episode, there’s a Scottish groundskeeper–I swear I am not making this up–who tells Dr. Crusher several times, in warning, and also in a really exaggerated Scottish brogue, “Dinna light that cahhhhn-dle!”

To this day I often think of that guy when I go to light a candle.

8. Cinnamon

Oooooh, I love cinnamon! I just love it. It’s probably my favorite spice after black pepper and maybe garlic, if we’re considering garlic a spice. (Technically garlic isn’t a spice, but in most culinary uses it functions as a spice.) I like to add it to the coffee grounds to add flavor to the brew, or also dose my applesauce (we buy the natural stuff with no added sugar) because apples and cinnamon were clearly invented to go together. One reason we love Pastitsio so much is that it contains cinnamon, and I exceed the recipe’s specified amount by a lot. More recently I’ve started taking cinnamon supplements because I’m told that cinnamon is good for blood sugar, and though I’m not generally a fan of black tea, I’ve recently discovered this stuff, following a recommendation by YouTuber Faith Connally:

I really really REALLY love this tea, and I have actually started drinking a mug of this on weekends after my initial cup of coffee, instead of having two cups of coffee.

Goodness, this one turned more extensive than I expected it to!

Posted in Newsletter Announcements, Occasional Quizzes, On Food and Cooking | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

“That’s what I’m f*cking talking about!”

No, I do not care that Alysa Liu dropped an f-bomb on live teevee. How could I? I personally tend to swear like a sailor, and honestly, her statement perfectly captured that moment, didn’t it? She just skated out onto the ice and proceeded to execute on the kind of flawless level we only expect from the very greatest of athletes. We’re talking, oh, that game in the NBA finals that year when Michael Jordan just started raining down three’s against a hapless opponent (I think it was the Trail Blazers). The only thing I’ve seen like Liu’s performance yesterday was Brian Boitano’s 1988 long program.

I’m trying hard not to read a lot of significance into the fact that an American woman won a medal, Gold no less, in the first Winter Olympics after my mother’s death. Mom loved figure skating, and I often watched it with her. I still remember some of her caustic commentary through the 1990s…”Another goddamned boring Russian in a fru-fru shirt!” She really, really, really did not like the string of Russian men who won Gold every time out in the 90s. I can occasionally see her point…I will never believe that Viktor Petrenko outskated Paul Wylie in Albertville, but I didn’t hate him. Alexei Urmanov, though? That dude was soporific. And I had a healthy dislike of Evgeni Plushenko, but honestly, he was an amazing skater. I suppose my “dislike” was based on him being a skater for them.

Would Mom have liked Alysa Liu? I honestly don’t know. Her lip piercing would have bugged Mom, as would Liu’s two-toned hair; for as much a staunch leftist as my Mom was, she could be downright prudish when it came to women and their appearance. She used to kvetch about Kirstie Alley’s hair on Cheers, for God’s sake.

And yet, as I watch Liu perform, I couldn’t help hearing my mother’s voice: “Atta girl!” after every jump, “Yesss!” when she spun, “She’s cute,” at some random point. And Mom would have loved “That’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about!”

“Good for her,” Mom would have said. Good for her.

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Something for Thursday (I’m sick and just not in a great mood edition)

Last week I featured Donna Summer. This week, I’m going to do so again. This one’s pretty trippy: It’s a suite of three songs, joined together to make one big nearly eighteen-minute suite. The main attraction is “Macarthur Park”, a song that weds an amazing tune to some of the weirdest lyrics ever written. But the way Donna Summer sings this stuff…I’d listen to her sing the Alphabet Song, to be honest.

And I’ve just learned that “Macarthur Park” is the music for figure skater Alysa Liu’s long program, so I might hear it tonight! Don’t spoil the results for me!

Here’s Donna Summer. Sorry for the brief post, but I’m busy trying to get rid of an obnoxious cold and this is all I got.

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Tuesday Tones (Black History Month)

Courtney Bryan is a composer from New Orleans, born in 1982, who is currently a professor of music at Tulane University. She holds a doctorate and was a 2023 MacArthur Fellow. She is also, by the evidence of the piece featured here today, an amazing composer with a thrilling approach of mixing Gospel, jazz, and soundscapes to create something modern and new.

Sanctum is meditative and haunting, which is almost certainly exactly what Dr. Bryan was attempting to achieve. The following is from her website:

Sanctum, for orchestra and recorded sound, explores the sound of improvisation in Holiness-preaching traditions. I drew inspiration from recorded sermons: The Praying Slave Lady by Pastor Shirley Caesar, The Eagle Stirs Her Nest by Reverend C. L. Franklin, and Reverend Charles Albert Tindley’s hymn, Stand By Me. Included are the voices of Marlene Pinnock and of activists in Ferguson, Missouri from 2014. Sanctum is my artistic response to recent events of police brutality. By employing techniques of layered repetition, rhythmic intensity, sounds of moaning and whooping, and voices of the past and present, Sanctum invokes solace found in the midst of persecution and tribulation. Sanctum was commissioned and premiered by American Composers Orchestra with the generous support of The Jerome Foundation and The Peter Heller Fund. The chamber version was commissioned by the London Sinfonietta.

The performance of Sanctum featured below, by the London Sinfonietta, takes place at a socially-distant concert from 2020, if you’re wondering why the audience is so sparse. I recommend listening on earphones or earbuds, if you can; the work is deeply immersive with its blend of live musicians and recorded sounds. 

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S!

OK, I’m a bit behind on my posting this week because I usually write at least some of my posts ahead of time on the weekend, especially Sunday, and this week we went to Rochester for a day of fun and buying stuff at Trader Joe’s. (Yes, we have a Trader Joe’s in Buffalo. We actually have two Trader Joe’s, but we don’t like the main one (actually the store itself is fine, but its location on Niagara Falls Boulevard is really a pain to get to) and we haven’t been to the new one that opened a few months ago yet.) So for tonight’s post, I checked Sunday Stealing to see if it was an easy one…and it is! Five things I love that start with S! How hard can that be?

[taps chin]

[drums fingertips on the table]

[looks up at the ceiling]

Well, maybe this one’s a little harder than I thought…but let’s see what we can come up with. As always, I have no compunctions about cheating on Internet quizzes.

1. STARS.

This is no secret, right? I love the stars…particularly the stars of winter. Here’s my boy Orion the Hunter, shrouded by clouds, taken just last week.

2. Symphonies!

I should get back to featuring full-length symphonies here. There’s no doubting that my favorite long form in music is the symphony. A great symphony is a musical world unto itself, regardless of how long it is; Mozart’s 40th is as magnificent a journey as Mahler’s 1st, even if the former is half as long as the latter.

3. The sea.

I mean…it’s the sea. ‘Nuff said.

4. Straps.

You can’t have overalls without them!

5. Shoresy.

Season Five will be on Hulu next week!

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This may be my laziest post ever.

Yesterday on Threads, someone posted a simple request: Whats one meme that makes you laugh every time you see it?

This was my submission:

And here is a small selection of other submissions that made me laugh (the thread had several thousand replies!)

Posted in On Things I Find Funny | Tagged | Comments Off on This may be my laziest post ever.

Something for Thursday (Black History Month)

The other day, someone posed an interesting question over on the Threads platform:

Dear white people, It’s Black History Month. Who made you see us? Who was your first Black celebrity crush?

It didn’t take me long to figure out my answer, because it was Donna Summer. What follows is the post I wrote when Donna Summer died. I remember that day very well, and when I learned she was gone, I had to go outside and…well, here’s the post.

Donna Summer was my Whitney Houston.

I never realized that, until earlier today, when I went outside toward the end of my work day for a last brief break. I pulled out my phone, and before I even realized I was doing it, brought up “Last Dance” on it. And then I stood there, listening to that great disco song, for all eight minutes of its long version. It was a gorgeously sunny day, and there in the cool shade I listened to a song that I’ve loved since I was seven or eight years old, over the tiny speakers on my phone. The sound wasn’t very good, of course. The phone’s not designed for that. It sounds nice as a portable music player over earphones, but the speakers on the phone don’t produce any bass to speak of. It did not do Ms. Summer justice.

And she still sounded utterly, utterly astounding.

Because of my unusual relationship with pop music, I never owned a recording of Donna Summer’s, aside from “Last Dance”, until only just in the last few years. I rarely listened to rock or pop as a kid, preferring to stick with film music and, later on, classical. In fact, I didn’t really start to engage with pop music until I was already actively engaging with classical music. Interesting that both interests blossomed right around the same time…but just because I wasn’t buying pop and rock records or tapes until I was 14 doesn’t mean that I had zero idea of what was going on, mainly because of my sister, who listened to a lot of pop and rock (in addition to classical herself). The soundtrack of my world back then had that music in it, and I keenly remember hearing a lot of Donna Summer for a few years.

But she’d first come to my attention cinematically, through her acting debut in the disco movie Thank God It’s Friday (which I may well watch again this weekend in her memory). In the movie Ms. Summer plays Nicole Sims, an aspiring disco singer who is trying to get her big break by getting the deejay at the disco in the movie to let her sing. He refuses, and refuses, and refuses; he tries to kick her out of the disco and she keeps getting back in. Of course, there’s no doubt in our minds that she’s going to get her shot, but Summer plays her ably as a kid with some skill and just enough confidence to stick with it but also a bit of fear that once her shot is done, that’s it. Finally, the deejay realizes with horror that he has to kill a few minutes of airtime until the Commodores show up, and he’s got nothing to fill it with…so Nicole takes over and starts singing. What’s she singing? “Last Dance”. And of course, after a rough start, she comes into it, and it becomes a performance that has the entire disco dancing and cheering and so on.

Yeah, it’s predictable as hell. But Donna Summer is so beautiful and vulnerable and cocky and confident and willing to stake her life on this one opportunity that doesn’t so much present itself as make itself available to be stolen, that the moment totally works.

And it helps, of course, that “Last Dance” is such a great, great, great song.

Yes, it is. It really is.

Look, it’s fun to laugh at disco, and for a whole lot of reasons. It was music of excess and rhythm-above-all, music that seemingly existed for no reason other than to trumpet a very casual approach to sex that would seem not just quaint but downright dangerous just a few years later. The music, the clothes, the discos with their glowing lights in the darkness, all of it. But there’s never been anything, not one thing, that no matter how fierce the backlash against it, didn’t produce at least something worthwhile. And that was Donna Summer.

“Last Dance” has been a favorite song of mine ever since I saw that bad-but-fun movie (that a seven-year-old kid probably shouldn’t have been watching, but thank God for liberal parents). It sounds like typical overlong disco, with its throbbing beat. But it has real melody behind it, and its master stroke lies in its slow introduction, where Ms. Summer imbues the lyrics with more than a touch of sadness.

Last dance
Last dance for love
Yes, it’s my last chance
For romance tonight

I need you by me
Beside me, to guide me
To hold me, to scold me
‘Cause when I’m bad
I’m so, so bad….

The way Ms. Summer sings this, it’s not a woman trying to be seductive. It’s a woman feeling desperate. She is being seductive, but she’s also pleading. How many others have there been this night? It doesn’t matter; this is the last one. She needs you, but not because of anything special about you…it’s just the fact that the place is closing and they’re playing the last song of the night. This is it — last call, the last dance.

The beat starts now, and the dance part of the song begins.

So let’s dance the last dance
Let’s dance the last dance
Let’s dance this last dance tonight

The lyrics repeat, now over the thumping disco beat and the synths and the strings and the brass. This all plays out like a dance on the floor, quick and thumping and seductive, but then there’s a very brief B section where Ms. Summer sings this:

I can’t be sure
That you’re the one for me
But all that I ask
Is that you dance with me….

That bit right there, that brief, brief moment, elevates the song to something more than just a “Hey let’s dance and then go screw” kind of song. (And the fact that the short version that you hear on the radio omits that part is a major reason why that short version should never be listened to by anybody.) The song takes on a secondary melody, with a break of several seconds in the singing between the second and third lines. What Ms. Summer is saying here is: “I’m looking for someone, I’m looking for the one…and I don’t know if you’re the one and for right now, I’m not asking you to be.” The dance is all there is…the dance on the floor, and maybe the dance to come, the one in bed.

That tiny B section is so blunt in its desperation, and Ms. Summer sounds so vulnerable as she sings it, that “Last Dance” rises, right there, above its genre and its poor reputation that lingers to this day.

The song includes a second slow section, which repeats the lyrics of the opening. It’s an interesting structural shift, and I wonder if it’s not partially meant to depict that second dance, the one that the singer hopes the last dance is leading to. As the song shifts back yet again to the faster tempo, Ms. Summer delivers one of the most amazing high notes I’ve ever heard from a singer (at about the 6:20 mark in the song). It’s the perfect, glorious, vocal climax of a wonderful song.

Donna Summer’s voice was an absolute miracle, as was the complete and utter command she had of that instrument when she was at the peak of her powers. Here’s how good she was, just three years ago, performing “Last Dance” live:

And here she is performing The Star-spangled Banner before a Red Sox game. I didn’t know this performance existed until just tonight.

Donna Summer was a beautiful, transcendently wonderful singer and artist. I truly, deeply hate that she’s gone from this world, and it’s people like her that make me wish so hard that there’s a next one.

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