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Music? of the Night

Logo courtesy Grammys.org

Okay.  The Grammys are over.  The jesters for the masses have honored their own, broadcasted for our entertainment.

The show was a bit off kilter for me.  The elder demigods of rock and other genres seemed shadows of their iconic selves.  Sir Paul should just write for other people now. Admit it, even as a Beatle his voice was never really that strong and now age has strained it further.  The Boss, well, his voice and playing are just as dynamic, but – and please forgive me this – he seemed a bit dated.  It was sort of like listening to Lenny Kravitz’ version of “War”.  He tried, but the moment had passed.

The segment with Glenn Campbell was sweet but sad.

Some are criticizing the Taylor Swift’s Clampett version of her song “Mean”.  I thought the staging was just campy enough to pull off.  What do you want, she’s a kid. The banjo playing was cool.

Never like the Beach Boys to begin with. Their music rehashed through Maroon 5 and some other band didn’t help.  And Brian Wilson? Like I said, never cared for them to begin with.

The Foo Fighters just rankled my nerves. They couldn’t be done fast enough.  I guess its my age showing, but then again I never really cared for that type of music anyway.

Chris Brown did some interesting dancing while lip syncing, but isn’t he the guy who was accused of beating Rihanna?  I kind of tuned out when it was him and some other guys doing some sort of mix up toward the end.

Katy Perry’s anthem about the breakup with her own Neandertal was interesting.  It just seemed some segments in the show were overly long.

People slammed GaGa last year for her egg entrance and Madonna take off, but I’m guessing they missed her last night after that fiasco with Nicki Minaj.  Performances dealing in religious and/or sacrilegious themes don’t bother me (I loved Madonna’s “Like a Prayer”), but they at least have to be well put together.  Whatever Ms. Minaj put on last night was not put together and I can’t blame the camera angles on this one.

Warped versions of Catholic (or heck Anglican or Episcopalian) service participants cavorting around in some “Exorcist” meets “Rocky Horror” does not entertainment make.  Particularly since I couldn’t understand a single thing that came out of her mouth. If you say you understood one word sung(?) then I shall be bold enough to call you a liar!

There were shining moments last night.  Bruno Mars, with his cutie self gave everyone a smile and a reason to get up and move.  The Alicia Keyes part of the tribute to Etta James was lovely.  Jennifer Hudson’s tribute to Whitney Houston was quite beautiful and Adele’s return was triumphant, although I did miss some of the grit in her voice.  Amazing, nonetheless.  Her six awards were well deserved even without the sympathy vote.  I can hardly wait to hear what comes next for this witty, soulful young woman.

If you missed the Grammys take heart; there are no less than eight more award shows coming for the year.  There will be plenty of shining moments and I’m sure plenty of inexplicable as well. There’s no business like show business.

The Sapien in the Mirror

Those crazy geneticists have been at it again, mapping all sorts of things.  This time they have mapped the first whole genome of our relative Homo sapiens neanderthalensis, a.k.a Neanderthal, a.k.a. Neandertal, in the new German spelling.

Good ol’ Neandertal was thought to be extinct, overrun and out thought long ago by Homo sapiens sapiens or anatomical modern man, but there seems to be a twist now revealed.  It seems modern man didn’t kill off Neandertal in the violent manner we thought. It looks like we may have killed them with kindness.

According to ongoing archaeological research, 1- 4% of our of nuclear DNA is composed of material donated to the gene pool by Neandertals.  Modern man apparently didn’t discriminate; more a lover than a fighter, perhaps?  Maybe Jean Auel wasn’t too off the mark.

What ever the case may be, this discovery sure explains a lot when you compare the forensic reconstructions of Kennis & Kennis to some of our more famous citizens. Kind of makes you want to check out your own brow ridge, huh?

Neandertal Elder by Kennis&Kennis

Wilma by Kennis&Kennis

Ernest Borgnine

David Boreanaz

(If you want to see more really cool archaeological reconstructions visit: http://www.kenniskennis.com. They do fantastic stuff.)

When You Wish Upon A Star

Image courtesy of NASA via The Huffington Post

A good portion of my drive home from work is done in darkness; lit only by my headlights and the night sky.  Most of my time is spent on the look out for drunk drivers and random wildlife playing Russian Roulette with two ton vehicles.  But when the skies are like they were last week, I tend to sneak peeks upward.

Wednesday I looked up and saw it; a shooting star.  It happened in a blink of my eye.  Zip and it was gone. When I told Yoda about it, he asked if I had made a wish.  I told him it took me so much by surprise that I forgot.  He said that was okay just seeing the star could be my wish. He can be pretty smart, that Yoda.

Turns out I was seeing the meteors of the Quadrantids and if I had pulled over, I probably would have seen quite a fireworks show.

Seeing that star (or meteor dust, as it was explained to be by Yoda) put me in a thoughtful mood.  I remember sitting out in the cold night long ago watching one of the annual meteor showers overhead.

Going through a rather difficult stage in my life, I sought solace in the quiet and beauty of the night. Alone out there, I felt out of time, released from the stresses of the situation. Each little piece of dust that left its streak across the sky had me ooing and ahhing as if it was the 4th of July.  I went inside only when the sun began to lighten the backdrop.

I’d like to say that the time I spent under the shooting stars gave me some profound outlook and I became a wiser human being at one with the universe and all that jazz, but it was not to be.

I awoke the next day tired and with a stiff neck from looking up from my lawn chair for so many hours. The pressures had not lifted and life would remain quite difficult for some time to come.

But what those tiny bits of frying meteor dust did give me eighteen years ago, was a memory.  A memory of space without measured time; a glimpse into the vast expanse beyond my little wretched world.  They gave me a smile.

There’s supposed to be another major meteor shower coming in late April this year, the Lyrids.  The peak is supposed to be the 21st, a Saturday. It’s marked on my calendar.  Come out and join me; create a memory.

And don’t forget to make a wish.

…and my mother thanks you…

Whilst lying abed and nursing my first winter cold and frankly hiding from the Yoda sleepover leftovers, I caught up on a couple of blog messages sitting in my emails.  One of these was from awkwardeldon.com, in which he admits that he is remiss in acknowledging the blog awards he received.

This brought to mind the Versatile Blogger Award nomination that Hotoffthewire.com presented me with back in November.

Doing what I like to do, I researched this award.  Can’t be too sure on the internet, you know.  Turned out it’s a real thing passed about the blogosphere. Not everyone out there is impressed or flattered with this prize, but I am.  A total stranger appreciated my words and passed the award my way.  It wasn’t as if my friend from down the way said, “Hey, I’ll nominate you, if you nominate me.”  I think its rather neat.

Now, I’m not so naive not to know that these awards are also used to drum up business for other bloggers.  But isn’t that what we are here for in the first place, to be read?  And if someone takes the time to notice my little blog then I should take the time to acknowledge that fact.

I let the nomination fall by the wayside because I didn’t have enough information on other bloggers to recommend the 15 that are suggested in the nomination “rules”.  But after sticking this out for a few months and stalking around and joining the Weekly Photo Challenge, I’ve found kindred souls and some not-so kindred souls who make my reading and viewing pleasure more enjoyable, if not challenging.

So here it goes – according to the rules:

To fulfill the nomination, the nominee must:

  1. Give credit to the person who nominated you and create a link to their blog in your post (coming up so watch for it!).
  2. Create a list of 15 blogs that you enjoy most and link to those as well. You must then tell those bloggers you have nominated them for the award. If you don’t have 15, you can’t do this step. If you can’t do this step, you can’t claim the award.
  3. Finally, you must create and post a list of seven things about yourself.

Forgive me please of you are one of the bloggers I found that prefer not to partake.  Just know that I nominate you in kind because I’ve found your site interesting, humorous, insightful and/or thought provoking:

  1. Thanks to Kelly Thompson of www.hotoffthewire.com for the nomination.  Sorry it took so long to acknowledge.
2. The LIST:

(For no other reason than being the first 15 in order of my Blogs I Follow list)

  1. Bashert – www.bashert04.com –  My lovely and creative life partner.  Her photos are beautiful.
  2. The Pamela Chronicles – http://pamelamarie.wordpress.com- A newish friend met through Bashert.  Premiere archivist and genuinely sweet person.
  3. Publikworks – http://publikworks.wordpress.com – Dry, funny, witty.  Makes the everyday a little bit better to take.
  4. The Laughing Housewife – http://thelaughinghousewife.wordpress.com – The first blog I ever “liked”.  A funny, british lady who’s in love with the British version of Whoppers.  Great jokes to have a laugh, groan or borrow.
  5. Janine/Shambolic Living – http://shambolicliving.wordpress.com – A wonderful blog I found through the weekly photo challenge. I stayed for the writing.
  6. Margie – http://latebloomerbuds.wordpress.com- Wonderful photos, full of colour and texture.
  7. Northern Narratives – http://northernnarratives.wordpress.com – Photos and words from where it’s really cold.
  8. Max Adams – http://celluloidblonde.wordpress.com – Sundries across the gamut.  I never know what might pop up and get me thinking.
  9. Straight Guy in the Queer Skies – http://brianeasley.wordpress.com/ – Interesting tales of a straight airline steward.
  10. Spectra – http://spectrumwoman.com/ – She had me at her “other incarnation” photo.
  11. Becoming Cliche – http://becomingcliche.wordpress.com/ – A wonderfully humorous, if somewhat bumpy ride on the pathways of life.
  12. Eldon – http://awkwardeldon.com/ – The guy who reminded me about this. You just have to read.
  13. FrizzText – http://flickrcomments.wordpress.com/ – Interesting conglomeration of thoughts, photography and guitar.  How ‘bout that for a combination?
  14. Susie & Amy – http://insatiablebooksluts.wordpress.com/ – Just what they say they are right up front.  Any site that promotes reading and uses 1940’s pin up art is okay in my book.
  15. Dan/a LEGO a day – http://legomyphoto.wordpress.com/ – A fun must for anyone who loves their LEGOs with a pinch of humor.
Seven things about me:
  1. I was the fastest typist in my 8th grade typing class; 56 wpm.  Typing, not keyboarding – you know…clack, clack, clack…bing!
  2. I once held hands with Leif Erickson (the actor, not the viking).
  3. If I developed a vice that would be the end of me, it would probably be gambling – Vegas and I did not part ways as friends.
  4. I have a small collection of playing cards, baseball caps and elephants.  It’s one hell of a poker night.
  5. I missed graduating from college (the first time) with Cum Laude by 1/100th of a point. A very sore 1/100th of a point, indeed.
  6. I have not worn a dress since 1995. And truth be told, it was actually a skirt that my divorce attorneys made me wear.  They thought it would make me look more feminine in court.  Ever see a steel worker in drag?  That was me.
  7. I wrote my one and only fan letter to Bobby Sherman in 1969. I understand he is a very nice man, who works in the California emergency services industry now.  I still have his greatest hits on my iPod.  Well, some of the greatest hits, well…okay, one song – Julie Do You Love Me.  Eight year old me and 50 year old me don’t exactly have the same appreciation for his music.

Okay, there you go. Rules fulfilled and compliment acknowledged.  Thank you for welcoming me into the sphere.

Hungry for Fiction

Courtesy of Scholastic

Since I am not in school right now and starved for something to read other than textbooks and nonfiction support of those textbooks, a coworker offered up the three book series The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. And since I still had some Amazon gift cards left, I said what the heck, I’ll bite.

I had no idea what the books were about, just that my coworker said they were “greeaaatttt!”.  Okay.  What I failed to take into consideration was the fact that my coworker is half my age, my daughter Nenè’s age to be specific.  I guess I should have known something was up when I saw that they were printed by Scholastic.

Now, the last time I read a book that had a teenager as the center was when a friend loaned me the Twilight series several years ago and insisted I read them.

I don’t mind my vampires twinkly, but I did get rather mired in the teenage angst.  A bit vapid for my tastes, which run more toward Lestat (the non-Tom Cruise version) and Armand. So when I realized that the central character was sixteen I was a bit hesitant to dig into the storyline.

But since I was really in the mood for some reading, I bit the bullet and took a chance on the first book.

The premise sounded interesting.  The setting is a futuristic North America caught in the grips of a cruel and sadistic central ruling government referred to as the Capitol.  The country Panem is now divided into thirteen districts, twelve of which supply all the material needs of the Capitol.

In order to keep the populous under control (as if keeping most of them in a near starvation state and under the watchful eyes of official “Peacekeepers” wasn’t enough), the powers-that-be maintain a yearly televised contest, whereby one girl and boy from each district are chosen lottery style to compete to the death.  Each tribute is wined, dined and given a team of stylists before being deposited in the arena for battle.

Think The Lottery meets The Most Dangerous Game meets Lord of the Flies meets Project Runway.

The story line is pretty much the archetypical fable and fairly predictable – missing parent figure, non-parent mentor to substitute, supporting cast to represent needed virtues, a seemingly omnipotent villain to overcome.  The one additional component – teenage angst—vapid, teenage angst.  The constant overwhelming crush of emotions amid the child genocide and governmental overthrow.

Does Gale really like Katniss in that way?  Does Peeta really love her?  Why does the President hate her so?  What was the true meaning behind that kiss?  Will Katniss forgive her mother for becoming a catatonic robot when Katniss’ father was blown to bits in a coal explosion?  Will Luke really defeat Darth and find out that the girl of his dreams is really his sister?  Will Dorothy find her way home?…Oops.  But you get the drift.

There was only one twist that I didn’t see coming in the entire series and that was one scene near the end of volume three Mockingjay– I won’t be bold enough to spoil it for anyone who wishes to read the books – but honestly was that truly necessary for the storyline?  It seems extraordinarily out of place and even more contrived than anything else in the entire series.  Left a bad taste in my mouth for the rest of the book, much like when John Jakes killed off Anne in the bicentennial series The Kent Family Chronicles.  Never forgave him for that one.

Lost my train of thought there…

I read all three volumes to satisfy my curiosity and my coworker.  She was astounded that I finished all three in a week.  Really?  By the time I got to the third one I was ready to be done.  No witty repartee or exciting sex scenes, nope just lots of glossed gore and emo.  I can see there being a “team Gale” and a “team Peeta” coming when the movie is released.

Ah, yes…archetypical story lines and teenage angst.  I think I’ve had my fill once more.  I’m going to write a note to keep up – “Books. Ask someone over thirty.”

Oh, please say to me you’ll let me hold your hand

Yeah you, got that something

I think you’ll understand

When I say that something

I wanna hold your hand

Lennon/McCartney

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Palm cupping palm or just fingertips held gently, the simple gesture of holding hands speaks volumes.  Comfort, familiarity, solidarity, friendship, love, safety; it’s all in a simple touch.

Nurses lightly touch hands when ministering to the ill, clergy does the same. We hold our children’s hands to guide them through the first mazes of life. We shake hands in greeting and in agreement, a variation on holding hands.  A personal thing without being intrusive.

I smile when I see my parents, now married almost sixty years, holding hands.  A small jolt of joy runs up my arm each time Yoda reaches out and takes my hand.  Bashert and I will often just lightly touch fingers to pass quiet communication; I’m still here. I care.

My friend’s husband is dying by infinitesimal moments.  Holding his hand is what remains. She sits vigil while man’s inhumanity drains the life out of both of them.  But as the hours and minutes go by, she holds his hand; comforting, familiar and loving to help ease both of them into their next worlds.

Perhaps its not such a simple thing after all.

Running, it is to laugh.

Yoda and I went to the park yesterday to throw a football around.  I confirmed two things during this outing.

First, it is still damnably hot in Georgia.

Second, I am horribly out of shape.

Yoda likes to invent games that somehow involve me going farther and farther to retrieve the ball.  At one point, he even suggested that we play a version of tag football, whereby I would have to run and tag him before he got to a certain point.

Run?

Honey, my runner broke a long time ago.  That mechanism has moved from the repair aisle and into the probably-will-have-to-be-replaced-at-some-time queue.  I don’t run.

Sitting on the couch last night with a warming pad on my back and wondering if I should be icing my throwing arm had me thinking about this sad state of affairs. How did it come to this?

Back in the dark ages of my youth, I loved to run.  Tag was pure joy, running and cutting sharp corners to avoid the touch of whomever was “it”.  I competed on track teams and ran in dashes.  The field would back up when I came to plate.  I would run just for the heck of it, not for the Jim Fixx exercise revolution of it (he died of a coronary after a run, you know).

But somewhere in the midst of adolescent angst and bodily changes, I lost my inclination to run.  Oh, I would run occasionally, playing a poor excuse of tag with my niece, nephews and eventually my own daughter, but nothing of my former running glory.

A couple of years ago I tried the whole running on the treadmill at the gym thing.  Yeah, didn’t like that activity.  Nothing worse than plodding along, nose dripping and sweat rivers all over then looking over and seeing one of those compact, spandex wearing, toned bodied yuppies running at twice my speed and still not mouth breathing.

Three surgeries on my foot haven’t helped my running cause either, but even without those I believe my runner would have remained broken.  It takes a lot to motivate me in that direction.

Days at the park sometimes have me wishing that I would do something about my broken runner.  The thought of the pure physical freedom to run without hesitation or fear of bodily injury does make me smile.  But the idea of what I’d have to do to accomplish it makes me shudder.

So, I shall continue to stock up on heating pads and pain relievers, listening to my Tin Man knees and doing the Quasimodo walk after sitting for more than five minutes, until I can stand them no more, which might be coming sooner than I thought.

Yoda just got two “real” baseball mitts.

Kamikaze Germs

Bleh.

Three foot surgeries, one broken ankle, several other surgeries, tendonitis, arthritis – I have had my share, but the two worse things I loathe when it comes to health issues are head colds and most of all, stomach ailments.

Empty desks have spotted the work floor this week.  Stomach ailments.  The shark was circling.

I’m not a big advocate for all the hand sanitizers and whatnot that people are always slathering on these days.  Too many good germs get washed away – throwing the baby out with the bath water, as my mother says.  I just wash my hands with soap and try not to put my fingers in my mouth on a regular basis.  Besides I find that most grab me up by the scruff of the neck stuff is airborne anyway.

Those rotten little kamikaze germs finally found their way to me this week.

Monday’s symptoms had me sweating all through Anthropology class and out for the count for work.

False hope reigned on Tuesday.

Wednesday’s child is full of woe is me.  This morning, as soon as the last bite of raisin bran hit my stomach, I knew.  Ambush.

Bashert will tell you in a heartbeat that I do not do well with stomach ailments.  I prefer my stomach contents to be processed in the correct direction and will fight the last good fight for this to remain so.

She found me upstairs an hour later in the bed immobile.  Not moving has always been my best defense.  The next line is a wonderful little chemical prescribed by physicians called promethazine.  Outside of a tincture of belladonna, it is hands down the best stuff I’ve ever had to combat stomach ailments.

We call it white gold.

Bashert kindly had the doctor call some in for me and I can feel the effects beginning. Stomach has settled some and soon I will be easing off into a nice visit with la-la-land, sleeping my way through the evil little germs’ war with my system.

Give me sore feet any day.

quinquagesimus stilus! (sorry, I like Latin)

This entry marks my 50th blog entry.  I haven’t made the time to do some introspective, wildly amusing piece, but I do have a list of 50 about 50, that I have managed to collect from various and sundry sources.  I suppose a bit of rambling and intelligentia are suited for this momentous occasion.  So have at it my trusty few:

 

 

 

  1.  Me
  2. 50 is the smallest number that can be written as the sum of two squares, in two ways
  3. The atomic number of Tin
  4. In Kabbalah, there are 50 gates of Wisdom (or Understanding and 50 gate of Impurity
  5. In millimeters, 50 is the focal length of the normal lens in 35mm photography
  6. In Bingo, ball number 50 is called blind 50 or half of a century
  7. 50 is the score in the center of a dartboard (the bullseye)
  8. A mother hen turns her egg approximately 50 times a day.
  9. Taipan snakes have 50 times more venom than a cobra.
  10. The median number of text messages teenagers sent in 2010 was 50.
  11. The 25th even number is 50.
  12. In Greek, Pentecost means 50th.  Pentecost is a Jewish summer holiday celebrated on the 50th day after Pesach.
  13. The Roman numeral for 50 is L.
  14. The moon is 50 times smaller than the Earth.
  15. 50-move rule in chess:  if there have been 50 consecutive moves of white and black chess pieces without any piece taken or any pawn moved then a player can claim a draw.
  16. The premium for using all 7 letters in a game of Scrabble is 50.
  17. The critical speed in the movie “Speed” is 50mph.
  18. The ISO country code for Bangladesh is 050.
  19. The purpose of the number 50 is to promote fusion between body and soul, mind and spirit. (Numerology)
  20. 50 is the cardinal number equal to 5 x 10.
  21. Another name for the 50 dollar bill.
  22. Emory University in Atlanta, GA is listed as the 50th best college (www.thebestcolleges.org)
  23. Project 50 – 50 days, 50 photos with a 50mm lens (http://fiftyoffifty.co.uk)
  24. 50 in 50: Fifty stories for fifty years!,  Harry Harrison
  25. “Fifty/Fifty” (1992), directed by Charles Martin Smith
  26. The age one is eligible for AARP membership.
  27. Ongoing project:  http://fiftypeopleonequestion.com/
  28. 1861: Three year $50 interest bearing notes issued that paid a cent of interest a day 7.3% (seven-thirties)
  29. Fifty Hats that Changed the World, (review – http://dovegreyreader.typepad.com/)
  30. Song: “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover”, Paul Simon
  31. Movie: “50 First Dates”, (cute for an Adam Sandler vehicle)
  32. 50 United States of America
  33. 50 Chapters in the book of Genesis
  34. Its the 50th anniversary of human spaceflight.
  35. Its the 50th anniversary of the Bay of Pigs.
  36. Europe has approximately 50 states.
  37. The Peace Corps is 50 this year.
  38. Its the 50th anniversary of the Beatles first performance at the Cavern Club.
  39. Six Flags Over Georgia is 50 this year.
  40. Asia has 50 countries. (Thank you Yoda.)
  41. The Volvo P1800 is 50 this year.
  42. The 50th anniversary of the Freedom Riders.
  43. A volcano has enough power to shoot ash as high as 50 km high.
  44. The 50th anniversary of Penguin Classics
  45. The 50th anniversary of Radio Nord
  46. The 50th anniversary of Dr. Who
  47. The 50th anniversary of Ezra Jack Keats’ “Snowy Day”
  48. “Throw Out 50 Things”, Gail Blanke
  49. Cai Lun, Chinese inventor of paper & papermaking process was born in 50CE.
  50. 50th anniversary of the Berlin Wall being built