Core values

I was given an assignment by my therapist to write down some of my core values. Being, at heart, a diligent student, I have worked hard on the task, and have come to the conclusion that it was a very smart and sneaky assignment. The process of thinking through these things has really helped me readjust my outlook and let go of the awful "dog" of depression that so plagued me at the end of the summer.

In the process I've discovered that I'm a moderate....my writing sounds like the "This above all, to thine own self be true" speech of Polonius in "Hamlet". I kept coming up with words that were little fulcrum spots between extremes. Words like "tidy", rather than clean vs. messy. "Thrifty", rather than cheap vs. spendthrift. Maybe moderation and balance are qualities that become more appealing with age? I used to be so hard on myself, with so little tolerance for anything less than perfection. I still have no use for fools, misspellings, pomposity, bad pitch, people who wear medical scrubs in public, ads for prescription drugs, nonsensical rules, the editorial content of the Wall St. Journal, invasive thorny vines, most popular music, middle management, telephone trees ("press 1 to report a problem"), over-familiarity, and too many other pet peeves to detail here.

But I have a weakness for anyone who sings when they work; those who are kind to old people; anything that makes me stop and take notice (like the display of pomegranates in the grocery the other day); attention to detail in otherwise unimportant things. I like punctuality. I'm a big fan of courage, especially when paired with a smidge of braggodocio, as when John Hancock signed his name to the Declaration of Independence so large that the King could see it without his glasses. Make me laugh and I'm yours forever. A good argument is a wonderful thing--but the emphasis here is on "good", where points are argued with vehemence and conviction, from a place of knowledge and passion, and never descends into the personal.

People have often asked Arturo, "How did you decide to be a musician?", and his response is always, "I didn't decide. It picked me." I am a total, drop-dead fan of people who fall into that category in any pursuit, and have nothing but pity for those who just muddle along. I am acutely aware that as an educated, healthy, white, upper-middle-class American, I am disproportionately blessed with advantages, but I surely have seen many similarly blessed who squander their assets. Give me passion above all!! Otherwise, why bother living?

Pre-Halloween Thoughts

Gee, the last time I wrote something was in August, and it started out with "I'm depressed". Thank goodness things have changed! I'm still distressed about the state of the world; about what may happen after next week's elections; about my continuing nursing/singing dichotomy; but I no longer feel so tortured by it all. Maybe it's the passing of the ridiculously hot weather? Fall is such a great time of year. Maybe it's the few talks I've had with Jim, my very occasional therapist and always good friend. Maybe it's the mere fact that I had two weeks vacation in September. Whatever the reason, I do feel lots better, and I celebrate the change.

Sunday is Halloween, always a big to-do on Club Boulevard. Last year we had over 800 kids, and I expect at least a repeat number this year. Friends are expected to spend a little time on the front porch with us. It's a great way to catch up and enjoy some seasonally-appropriate port, or sherry, together. If you're reading this and you're in town, do feel free to drop by. The show of trick-or-treaters is unsurpassed and the company is tops!

We are also attending a wedding on Sunday afternoon. I haven't been to a wedding in so long. Our kids' friends are not yet of marrying age (at least not of their generation!) and of course most of our own cohort of friends are long settled. So this should be fun. Plus I've been asked to sing with the band--always a big plus in my book.

Glenn and I did a gig at Guglhupf restaurant a couple of weeks ago, and I had a lot of fun. Much less pressure at a restaurant venue than in a concert hall--it was easy to relax and get in the swing of the evening. Many of the ladies from my book club came, plus some friends from work, some familiar faithful fans, and my lovely Laura, who has matured into a delightful, thoughtful, intelligent, lively, and totally satisfactory young woman. A treat to be around! We went to dinner earlier this week and spent the evening in deep yet entertaining discussion, plus the restaurant (Revolution) was tops and the wine Arturo gave us (a Rioja) was just perfect.

So much to be thankful for......who cares if we spend $150 on Halloween candy? Let the wild rumpus begin!

The Evils of the World

I have been depressed for the past couple of weeks. There are a few reasons I can readily identify: lots of new aches & pains that have effectively prevented me from going to the gym for the past couple of months, including a flare-up of the nurse's curse, plantar fasciitis. This is THE WORST. The first step out of bed in the morning, or after sitting for a while, is just awful. And the treatment: take anti-inflammatories, try to stay off your feet, and use ice on the affected foot. Then wait six months.

I'm also starting to feel old for the first time. My birthday was last week and it was neither a "big" number nor really a particularly impressive one (I'm officially 53), but it's just left me more than a little blah. I look at Diana--she is so gorgeous, so young, so untroubled, so on the cusp of life--and while I am proud, it also makes me feel tired, and uninterested in my own life. I'm not envious: good God, I wouldn't be 22 again for love or money. But the knowledge that I'm probably 2/3 done with this life is more than a little sobering.

Then there is the nagging memory I cannot put behind me. In my work, I have seen birth, death, trauma, medical mayhem, miracles, and just about everything in between. Most of it I brush away, or perhaps save for when I need a story as a cautionary tale: don't smoke, do you know what cancerous lungs look like? I do! But a couple of weeks ago, I saw something I cannot dismiss.

A four year old girl was airlifted into my hospital for emergency surgery. She had been horrifically, satanically, sadistically abused. She needed an immediate craniectomy because she had subdural bleeding. When the surgeon took off the skull plate to relieve the pressure and evacuate the hematoma, her brain swelled so much he was unable to reattach the skull flap. In short: not a survivable injury. Which is good, because the rest of her poor little body bore witness to the suffering she had sustained. There were bites around the perimeter of each of her nipples--it looked like someone had attempted to bite them off. She bore laceration marks that the pediatric surgeon said were from ligatures--she had been tied to something. Her body was so bruised it was hard to tell she was a white girl. Part of her earlobe had been nibbled away, possibly by vermin. She had burns. She had been sexually violated. FOUR YEARS OLD.

What kind of human does this to an innocent child? What kind of society puts up with it? There was a lot of coverage in the press, and a lot of outrage expressed by law enforcement personnel, child protection agencies, and the like, but her case is neither the first nor the last this month, or possibly even this week. How can anyone believe in a loving and all-embracing God, if he lets things like this happen?

None of these are new questions. Philosophers, clerics, and wise men of all stripes have been wrestling with them for ages. I'm old enough, and cynical enough, to know that there are no answers except that evil is here in the world. I'm just tired--tired of reading about it, tired of people who have power who do nothing about it, tired of people who tolerate it, tired of people who incite it, tired of everything.

In fact, the only thing I'm not tired of is being tired, because I can't sleep. Her face haunts me--especially the face in the photograph that was published in all the papers when, after three days in the ICU, this little angel was mercifully taken off life support, and allowed to die. The sweet face with the pigtails and the shy smile so little resembled the visage I saw that night in the O.R. that it cuts to my soul.

There's a quote by Lily Tomlin: "No matter how cynical you become, it's never enough to keep up." God help us all, it's true. I have lost some joy, gained some years, and exponentially upped my cynicism quotient after this experience. Ironically, though, I may have acquired a smidge more religion than I had before, because I would so very much like to believe that there is a heaven, and this child is in it. Rest her tortured soul, she'll never feel pain or fear, or cry, ever again.

Memorial Day Weekend

Well, I am on day 4 of being off 6 days in a row and I have to say it's feeling just great. I've rehearsed, gone to the gym, had a marvelous dinner with dear friends, and just chilled out. Tomorrow there's a concert on the books, and then Tuesday is another rehearsal and then dinner club. Life is good, I am very blessed.

Of course, that many blessings make for boring writing, and reading! Conflict, upsetment, doubt, rage, guilt, greed, lust, envy, and the other deadly (and not-s0-deadly) sins make for much better copy. This is probably why I am fascinated with reading about the tragic travesty taking place with the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. There are more than enough sins to go around in that situation. Will it all get cleaned up in my lifetime? I'm thinking there's a good chance the answer is "no". The photos of the spill, the oil-soaked wildlife, the befouled coast line, and the audio of the endlessly prattling bureaucrats and politicians and scientists are eerily compelling. It's like slowing down to look at an accident on the highway.

Just finished reading a book about Andrew Carnegie, Henry Clay Frick, and how they became friends & business colleagues, formed the steel industry, fought the nascent unions, fought with each other, and ended up bitter enemies (albeit rich ones). A fascinating story. The personalities are so vivid! I think it's because there are such rich primary sources (letters, cables, minutes of meetings, etc.) for historians to mine. I wonder what kind of biographies and histories of the electronic era will be written when the primary sources are as evanescent as the life of one's computer memory, or the technology with which to decode it.

Thoughts, anyone?

How curious

Did a concert on Sunday night and for the first time in my performing experience I think the audience didn't like it. Or, they liked it but they didn't feel like clapping. I don't know. Arturo and others in the audience who have heard me before said I did a great job, up to my usual standards, and it was the listeners who had the problem. It was such an odd feeling: lots of things that in the past have been sure-fire laugh getters or audience pleasers just kind of fell flat. In one way, it made me work harder, but then at a certain point I realized I wasn't going to cajole or invigorate or cattle-prod them into being "into" the evening, so I just figured, the hell with it. I'll do the best I can for ME and I'll just have as much fun as I can. But it was very hard to relax & carry through with that intent. It was like there was a big wall out there between me and the audience.

Maybe it was too much of a "holy" crowd for the material? There's no way to know. Nobody forced them to attend......they could have just sent a check for the charity & skipped the show. My friend Britt said that everyone seemed more interested in the food than in the entertainment. (The leftover scraps I was able to taste after the performance WERE really good.) I believe she used the word "stampede" to describe the general hubbub when all the food was put out. Maybe everyone had postprandial doze syndrome.

Whatever the cause, it was a very odd sensation. I can see why young performers could take a [non] reaction like that very personally, feel rejected, etc. Thank God I have more sense/ego than that. But it's a feeling, and an evening, I'd not care to repeat.

A woman's work is never done

I have been working like crazy the past few weeks, what with rehearsals, and company, and spring cleaning, and those never-ending yard chores, and (oh yes) my actual paying job, and I think the stress has finally caught up with me, in the form of a massive headache, the "GI Blues", and I think a UTI, too. NOT FEELING WELL.

Diana is off to Mexico on Saturday. Laura is off to Florida on Saturday. My mom is off to China on Sunday. At least Arturo is here to commiserate.

Got the van all checked out today. The "Mom Mobile" is good to go for another few thousand miles. It's a wreck but I do like that car! I took a short ride in a friend's Chrysler Pacifica the other day. If--I mean, when--we have to go car shopping I might look at one of those. There were a lot of sweet features and it looks fairly decent, too. Of course having a new car means caring about how it looks, and then there's the higher insurance cost. Hope we can put off that particular hassle for as long as possible.

In the words of Johnny Mercer: "Not a lot to write/Not a lot to say/Same things happen every day"........so I'll close. For all you uninitiated out there, those are the first few lines to the great song he wrote with Gordon Jenkins, "P.S., I Love You".

It's That Time of Year Again

After a 9-month hiatus (no, I didn't have a baby) I am taking pen in hand--or should I say, fingers to the keyboard?--and writing on the blog again. Don't know who will see this but I do want to make everyone aware that the incredible annual BEAVER QUEEN PAGEANT is taking place again in lovely Duke Park, Durham, NC, and--

*I*
*ME*
*MOI*
*YOURS TRULY*

will be one of the judges this year! I am humbled by this honor. In the true spirit of the Pageant, and in keeping with its motto of "Peace, Love, Beaver", I would like to invite everyone to help sponsor my judicial seat! Just go to:

http://www.ellerbecreek.org/bqp-2010.html

scroll down to the "judges" section, and click on the tab for Beaver Streisand. (She's my--are you ready?--"beavatar"!) You can read about the contestants and use your credit card to buy my influence for your favored candidate. All money raised goes to the Ellerbe Creek Watershed Association, to assist in their goal of protecting Durham's natural creek and its surrounding area. Read about their good work at www.ellerbecreek.org, and remember: all contributions are tax deductible!

Here is a song I've been rehearsing for the pageant. Remember the tune "Memories" from the musical "Cats"? It was one of my biggest hits. For this very special event, I've rewritten the words:

Beavers! Looking out at the sunset!
All surveying the forest
Seeking trees fresh and sweet
As their fur drips
Their teeth are making chattering sounds
And their dam is all complete!

If you want to hear more, come to Duke Park on Saturday, June 5th, 2010, at 4PM. LIVE THE BEAVER QUEEN EXPERIENCE!