Mother's Day! Concert!

My family hosted a great Mother's Day for me. Nature cooperated by providing gorgeous weather. I worked out in the yard for a little bit in the morning. Then Laura came over and cooked a scrumptious brunch for me, Arturo, and herself: asparagus & leek quiche, salad, and iced lemon cupcakes with fresh strawberries on top. Add a bottle of champagne and there's a perfect meal! After she left, Diana & Griffin came over for a while. I got lots of books, including the new biography of Robert Redford, plus I got the new Paul Simon CD, "So Beautiful or So What", which I had been lusting for. It will make the ride to work today easier to give it an initial hearing.

Had a concert sponsored by the Durham Library last week. We did a repeat of the "Hearts in 3/4 Time" show and it was far better than at the first g0-round in February. Amazing what a little extra rehearsal time can do! Too bad the audience was so sparse (I think there were maybe 25 people) but for once it wasn't my responsibility to do publicity, so I'm trying to let go of the disappointing numbers.

I'm so grateful for my family and all the good things in my life!

Osama Bin Laden's death

I'm posting some correspondence I had with a relative about the raid which resulted in the death of OBL.

My original Facebook stauts post:
From a speech, by MLK Jr., 8/16/67: "I'm concerned about a better world. I'm concerned about justice; I'm concerned about brotherhood; I'm concerned about truth. And when one is concerned about that, he can never advocate... violence. For through violence you may murder a murderer, but you can't murder murder. Through violence you may murder a liar, but you can't establish truth. Through violence you may murder a hater, but you can't murder hate through violence. Darkness cannot put out darkness; only light can do that."
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My correspondent's response:
Hi Ellen,
I guess I should start with the obligatory...you know I love you and if we were sitting in a kitchen drinking tea I would be smiling, and calm and this would NOT be an 'argument starter'.
I am just so surprised by your comments regarding Bin Laden's death. You are a self proclaimed New Yorker and the man and his followers made New Yorkers and people all over the world live in fear wondering what evils would come our way by his hand. He master minded the attacks on New York that killed thousands. I saw families torn apart, friends going to many funerals and not to mention the FDNY who, by doing their jobs and being fearless, were killed trying to save others. It lead the news for months when in other parts of the ocuntry it was an after thought..a footnote following the news of that part of the country.
It was such a dark day for New York and Americans. I felt unsafe in large crowds and avoided going to the city for quite sometime. HE did all that to us!
I understand HATE is not a good emotion, but the man was pure evil and now he is no more. Understandably, there are others, who will glorify this evil into something wonderful and follow his path of destruction.
I just wanted you to know that although a few loved your comments and those of your friends...I venture to guess most people from NY didn't comment online for a reason.
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And here is my response to her:
figure anyone who wants to comment, will, and anyone who wants to bitch about me privately will do that, too.

Please understand that I am not by any means underestimating the impact OBL's tentacles had on NYC and on the entire world. I despise what he did to thousands of innocent working people and heroic first responders. I have no doubt of his complete, unrepentant evil. Certainly nobody with that much blood on his hands deserves to be out walking around anyplace in the world. Most of the time I do not miss the so-called comforts of religion but occasionally I do wistfully long for the certainty of a heaven and a hell; it would be pleasing to think that the wicked were being punished for eternity. When I think of what the long-term effect of 9/11 has been on my city, our country, and our world, I could cry--in fact, I have cried. An entire thesaurus worth of epithets is not enough to describe the utter malevolence of this man and his followers. I agree 100% with everything you say about the evil he wrought.

What I also remember is the video footage of his followers burning flags and dancing in the streets after 9/11, and how it steeled America's resolve to take revenge. And what has come of it? Wasted money, wasted time. An all-volunteer military that is stretched to the limit with wars on multiple fronts. Horrible physical and psychological damage to those who come home from those wars. So many body bags that for years the government wouldn't allow them to be even photographed. Untold thousands of dead civilians. Ever-tightening circles of surveillance, agencies whose sole job is to monitor citizens like you and me, and a much-diminished political position in the world at large. Tragedy #2 of 9/11 is that America deliberately and systematically squandered the incredible store of international support and goodwill which that horrific day generated. The thing that set America apart from most other countries, up until somewhere around the turn of the 21st century, was our moral imperative. It's an intangible but very powerful asset, and it exists no more.

We can do a pretty good job of punishment here on earth if we so choose. Personally, I could think of a lot more horrible things than a quick death. I'd rather die than spend the rest of my life incarcerated. Kill someone and you can be as sure as sunrise that there is a faction that will elevate that person's execution to martyrdom.

I don't intend my thoughts to be a slap in the face to anyone, especially to my family or anyone who was affected by 9/11. I do not denigrate their fears, their sense of loss, and the upending their lives took. But (to say it again) I simply have no more stomach for violence. I don't see where it ever solves anything, not even on the smallest level. (By the way, do not confuse "violence" with "discipline"...I don't think any parent who whacks her kid's backside should be reported.) All it does is perpetuate the cycle of escalation, revenge, reprisal, and bitterness.

If you're still reading (which is likely but not assured!), I want to say I admire you for writing to me. It couldn't have been easy. You can share this as you see fit; perhaps those who are less understanding than you will get some small insight into how I am thinking, should they care to spend the time.

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And that's all for this post. 'Nuff said.

Busy weekend, minus a voice

I had a little cold last week, and woke up yesterday without a voice. All I can do is croak or whisper. It hasn't cramped my style at all--I feel fine, lots of energy--but gosh, it's annoying. Between my impaired volume and Arturo's impaired hearing, we're spending a lot of time saying "What?" to each other!

We went to Rick & Erin's annual joint birthday party on Saturday evening and watched a rather spectacular rainstorm from the safety of their home. I've never quite seen the sky look so ominous--and the thunder--and lightning--yikes, it was awful, and impressive. Fortunately by the time we drove home most of the spectacular stuff was over. There were a lot of branches down in the yard this morning; I guess storms like that are nature's way of pruning.

I've been working a lot in the garden, weeding the iris bed & laying down new mulch. Also fixing all the bricks in the edge. It's good work because the results are immediate and obvious; however, all the time I am working outside, all I see is more stuff that needs to be done. I could put in 2-3 hours per day for a year, I think, and still have stuff to do. There are so many demands on my free time, between the house and the yard and the kids and rehearsing, and book club, and crosswords, and all the things I want to read, and all the movies I want to see, and updating my website, and seeing friends, and EVERYTHING! It's all good stuff and I am so very blessed to have these things in my life but they can be overwhelming.

Another project that has been taking up my time is working on my CD. The editing is finished and I have a master copy. Now I am working on the cover & artwork. This is more of a headache than I had anticipated, not because my designer friend is unhelpful, but mostly because I am having trouble articulating what I want from him. When you get right down to it, I'm not even sure I know what I want! It's easier to say what I don't want, but that's not very useful. In reality, probably none of this agonizing matters very much, since--let's face it--we are talking about maybe 200 copies that will ever be "out there". But still, I'd like it to be something I'm proud to distribute in every way. I'm so happy with the audio quality and I'd like the packaging to be wonderful too.

That's it for now. I'm going to drink another cup of tea in the hope that it soothes my vocal cords, and go to bed. Love to all!

Working Girl

It's been a busy time, what with shows to sing, holidays to celebrate, websites to update, etc. Obviously this blog has gotten shunted aside big time. But since I have a few extra minutes, I thought I'd jot down a few thoughts.

Here's thought #1: I wish I were rich. I'd do all the right things with money, like give some away, help my family, be philanthropic with my favorite causes, etc. And I'd travel! But the thing that would give me the most pleasure would be hiring people to do all the things that have to be done, that I hate doing. Like, cleaning the house. Tending the yard. Sorting through the "to do" list that never seems to get shorter. Actually, I don't mind cleaning, gardening is fun and relaxing, and there's a certain satisfaction in crossing chores off a list. But it all gets so tedious. Having these things done for me, so that if I WANTED to do some of them I could and wouldn't feel overwhelmed, would be sheer heaven.

Thought #2: I have three friends/relatives who have lost their dogs in the past year. Whether through old age or accident, they each spent many sad hours mourning their much-loved pooches. And yet each one has acquired a new pet. I don't understand; but then again, I've never been a pet owner. (Goldfish don't count, and the bunny we had was not exactly an interactive family member.) It's like saying, my 12 year old child died, so I'm going to acquire another child to make up for the loss. I'm not condemning--I get it that this is clearly my inability to empathize. But I just don't get it.

Thought #3: Creativity has to be nurtured. It needs time & space, encouragement, support, feedback, and critical interaction. Gosh, it's hard to be an artist when doing it is another thing on the "list of things to do".....see thought #1 above.

Thought #4: Anything that makes you laugh is good!! I've been listening to old George Carlin routines and I am falling out laughing. The one that really got me going was about things that pissed him off. One was "people who put bumper stickers about their child's school on their cars", which is something that makes me crazy, too. He proposed a bumper sticker that I wish I could have made, because I would put it on my old van in a heartbeat: "Proud parent of a child who has enough self-esteem that he doesn't need his parents trumpeting his minor educational achievements on their car's bumper"!!

Thought #5: It's time to go to bed. Enough computer time for one night!

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.