Post-Thanksgiving Greetings

I’m still alive. Very busy earning an A. Hope to make that an A+ soon.

I am sorry I’ve been away but I’m working on a big project that I plan to launch around the first of the year. Keep tune.

Hope you had a great Thanksgiving. Daisy and I are having a fun first holiday season together. She has really settled in and follows me every where I go … fortunately for her I don’t move around too much, especially after work. These past few days she is getting her work out as I bring things out and put them up for Christmas. She finally gave up and just hopped up on the chair and laid there staring at me. I have drastically reduced my Christmas decorating this year. I love the decorations when they are up but I hate 1) putting them up 2) packing away stuff so I have room to put them up 3) taking it down and 4) unpacking all the stuff I put away to make room. So it’s a minimalist Christmas this year — well minimalist for me.

I will try to be better at posting … if not I guess it’s back to the stockades for me!!!!

Dusting, Mopping & Brooms Oh My

Well I have my hat for the winter. And it is winter isn’t it? Yesterday I waited half an hour for my bus. I was so happy when it arrived I almost kissed the driver.

I don’t think Daisy is too fond of cold weather. When we go out she is constantly shaking herself. I may have to buy a coat or sweater for her. She’s so tiny and thin that there is no body fat on her. She is truly a skinny little bitch

This past weekend some sort of virus got into me and I found myself cleaning — no real cleaning. I actually mopped my floors. I know hardwood floors are the in thing to have but if it ever have the money I would replace them with carpeting or I’m going to buy room rugs or Italian marble floors — yes that’s what I will get and then some statues with water coming out of their mouth or other orifices. Actually I could just keep my floors and hire someone to come in and clean. That is my idea of luxury, to have someone come in once a month and clean and bake and cook and give me a mani/pedi. Oh dear, I’ve watched way too much television.

Next week we get a long weekend. In case you didn’t know I will be doing stand-up for the first time in probably 10 years (if you don’t count my Fringe shows) on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Here is the information:

Well off to the salt mines.

Sunny Day

Well the sun has come out … both outside and inside. After months and months and months of feeling in limbo about money problems they have finally all been resolved. None of them are exactly what I was hoping for but they are resolved. It’s amazing how just knowing where I stand makes me feel better — even if I’m not standing where I want to. As the great philosophers (the Rolling Stones) said you can’t always get what you want but you get what you need.

So now I can move on and make decisions based on fact not maybes. How nice.

And the sun is shining outside and it will be a heatwave in the 50s this weekend. I’m going to have to dig into my cedar chest and find my tankini so I can head to the beach.

Last night I was watching television (such an unusual evening for me — yeah right) and this commercial came on that started with a scene from the ocean and I thought it was going to be some political ad when it dawned on me THERE ARE NO POLITICAL ADS and I was led to rise from my couch and do a short, but lovely, happy dance. NO POLITICAL ADS, NO POLITICAL ADS. It just brought out the hokey pokey in my heart.

I am amazed, or maybe not so amazed, by the anger over the results. I remember in 1980 when Reagan won my friend’s husband (now ex-husband) made a gigantic sign and put it on his lawn saying “What Have You Done America?” That was about as angry as people got — at least that I recall. And we all lived through 8 years of Reagan and his minion George H.W. It’s part of being in a democracy — you can’t always get what you want and sometimes you don’t get what you need either.

So today is a good day — and I’m hoping for many good days to come and I’m still hoping for a pony for my birthday because that’s the kind of gal I am.

I’m Home; I’m Home

Be it ever so humble and rather messy there’s no place like home. I was in San Jose (yes I know the way) for the weekend and got home last night around 7:30. I was frisked at airport security … well my ankles were frisked which was really odd. I have no idea what the x-ray showed that would cause someone to pat down my ankles but it was strange to say the least. My friend Geri has to be frisked all the time because of her knee replacement. She always tells them they have to buy her dinner but they never laugh. She’s playing to the wrong audience.

Tomorrow is Election Day. The madness is almost over or it may almost be starting. It’s so close I’m afraid there will be another Bush/Gore fiasco. I can’t take another Bush/Gore fiasco, especially when Bush ends up winning. But no matter what, the political commercials will end and the Christmas commercials will kick into full gear. Oh boy, I can hardly wait …

Hell No We Won’t Blow — When Musicians Strike

 

The Twin Cities is in the midst of a strike by two orchestras, the Minnesota Orchestra and the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra. When I think of strikers I tend to think of burly, sweaty
construction workers, average-Joe civil servants or blue collar assembly workers. I have seen nurses on strike and teachers on strike but I have never seen classical musicians on strike. I have a feeling Jimmy Hoffa never equipped the unions to work with teamsters who really carry violins in their violin cases. Union leaders would be forced to adapt their traditional strike “methods” for this particular group.
There will be picket lines and picket signs. The traditional “LOCAL NO. SUCH-AND-SUCH ON STRIKE” seems so flat for groups as sharp as these. In fact, the dignity of these groups makes you think you’ll see signs like: “PLEASE GIVE US MORE MONEY. THANK YOU.” and “WE’D REALLY APPRECIATE A BETTER CONTRACT. HAVE A NICE DAY.”
But, as a creative artist and supporter of unions, I would like to suggest some signs that will show not only your devotion to music, but your commitment to a fair contract. Here are some ideas:
·      We’ll Beat No Drums For Management Scum
·      We Read Management Fortissimo
·      Kiss My Brass Section
·      You’re Killing Us A Poco A Poco
·      Management Plucks
·      Our Cymbals Won’t Crash Without More Cash
·      Impresario Unfair To Musicians
·      If Our Paycheck Has No More Do —You’ll Have No More Mi
·      The Bach Stops Here
·      If You Don’t Pay This Fella You’ll Be Singing A Cappella
·      Duet To Management Before They Duet To Us
Of course, picket line chants really make or break a strike. While not Gregorian chants or Wagner arias, here are some ideas that will get your point across and are not only fitting for this occasion, but they can be done in three-quarters time:
·      No more Bach — No more Ravel; Take your offer straight to Hell
·      Two Bits, Four Bits, Six Bits, A Dollar; If that’s all you’re paying you’ll hear no more Mahler
·      Hell No We Won’t Blow
·      What do we want? — BETTER PAY; When do we want it? — ALLEGRO
Brothers and sisters of the note, your solidarity in this strike effort will show management that just because you are refined musicians at the top of your craft, you can’t be pushed around. I believe your motto should be:
United we Crescendo, divided we Decrescendo.

Want to know a secret?

In a weak moment I volunteered to be on a committee for a conference that is this Thursday. It was an excellent learning experience for me and reminded me to NEVER NEVER EVER VOLUNTEER TO BE ON A COMMITTEE AGAIN.

I’m not a good committee person — I mean I have great ideas and people go with other ideas — what’s wrong with them?!?! I think in most instances people are better off with a benevolent dictator telling them what to do than with a committee of people who are trying to “come to a consensus.” Oh sure you try to do that in a democracy but look at where it’s gotten us. Our current consensus government couldn’t agree that the sky is blue, the grass is green, and women should never have to pay taxes.

So at our last meeting it was decided we would write a question on the name tag as an ice breaker. I suggested “where is the kinkiest  place you’ve had sex” but the consensus was to go with something else.  So instead we are answering “what is something about yourself that you’ve told anyone.” Who the hell is going to tell a total stranger about something that they’ve never told their best friend, besides Catholics who go to confession and tell the truth?

So this leaves me with a world of possibilities for my answer to this question. Some possibilities are:

  • I’m going to kill my family and eat them for Thanksgiving — shhhh don’t tell
  • I am a man trapped in a woman’s body and I can’t help fondling her breasts
  • I was sent here to save your soul
  • I suffer from vaginal dryness
  • My thighs are brought to you by Jell-O pudding
  • I’ve never felt this attracted to a stranger before
  • I like to shove Skittles up my nose and shoot them out at people

Oh the possibilities are endless. If you have any suggestions, let me know. Send them here.

George McGovern

I have a poster from the 1972 election of Senator McGovern. It is framed and hanging in my living room. Many years ago when he was in the Twin Cities on a book tour I brought my framed poster to meet him. We talked about that time and he signed the back of the poster. It is one of those objects that I would try to save if there was a fire.

I am so proud to say I had a car with a “Don’t Blame Me I Voted For McGovern” sticker on it. And I’m prouder to say I had the chance to NOT vote for nixon.

He was a good man who spent his “retirement” years working to feed the hungry. I think he is one of the reasons I’m a bleeding heart liberal today. He was a man of peace who should now rest in peace.

I’m Still Around

I apologize to my faithful readers. I have been in a tailspin lately with personal issues.

I promise I’ll be back. I just need to take care of some things that are overshadowing everything else.

The two thoughts that keep me going are:

1) it’s only money; and
2) this too shall pass.

The third thought is against the law so I won’t publish it to be used against me in a court of law (can you just hear the cha-ching of Law & Order in the background?).

I will tell you that I’m amazed at how I just do things I don’t know if I would have done in the past. This morning on the bus there’s this guy, probably in his early 20s, slouched down in his seat with his feet up on the side seats in front of him. That is annoying enough but he has his gym bag or whatever laying open in the center of the aisle. So I walk up, kick the bag under his seat and say “This isn’t the frat house, sit up.” Amazingly he did. Next time I’m going to pull his ear like one of the mom’s on the block use to do if she wanted to get you to physically move. Once you’ve had your ear pulled you become much more cooperative with future requests.

So I’m okay. I know I’ll come out of this fine one way or another. I appreciate the email asking where I am. It’s nice to know I’m missed out here in cyper land.

They’re Here……….

 Can you feel it? It’s like fire ants crawling up your legs.

Can you smell it? It’s like living down wind of the stockyards.

Yes the bastards of baseball, the demons of the diamond, assholes of the American league are in town.

Those damn yankees.

And I will be at the game tonight with my lucky shirt and my voodoo doll (thanks to my friend Jean). Unfortunately I will be in a suite with clients and I won’t be able to use the words I want to use.

I haven’t always hated the yankees. When I was a kid I loved Mickey Mantle, Whitey Ford, Roger Maris, Yogi Berra (smarter than the average coach). I would root for them in the World Series. Then the Darth Vadar of baseball game to town — George Steinbrenner — and ruined baseball forever.

Not that I have any strong feelings about the topic.

It’s The Little Things

Beth, a friend of mine from high school — well I should say an classmate from high school because we were never good friends at that time but, thanks to Facebook, we have become good friends as “adults”  — lives in Tennessee. She knows my love for elephants and when she saw Trunklines, a publication from the Elephant Sanctuary, she picked up a copy and mailed it to me. When I opened my mailbox last night and found that it just made me so happy, not just to have the newsletter but to have someone somewhere thinking of me and taking an action that she felt would make me happy.

Another friend, Kay, who I actually met via this blog made me the nicest bookmarks with pictures of Freckles on them. She said they were simple and not a big deal, but every time I see that bookmark I am not just reminded of Freckles, I am reminded that someone cares for me.

It is nice to be reminded of this every once in a while. The trendy phrase was (is? I’m not really up with all the big trends of the day) PRACTICE RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS. I once wrote an piece for Minnesota Monthly on Minnesota random acts of kindness. So in case you are wondering what you can do to make someone’s day a little better here are some ideas:

Minnesotans are uniquely qualified to perform spontaneous acts of kindness – those usually anonymous gestures that help make the world a better place for all of us:
  Give a bucket of bait to a stranger.
  Turn your teammates’ bowling balls fingers-up when they aren’t looking.
  Send a letter to a local news anchor thanking him for being Your Friend – then ask if he’ll lend you a few dollars till payday.
  Buy someone a gift for no reason at all – then remind her of it every day for the rest of her life.
  Pick up the trash in your neighborhood – then find a neighborhood that has no trash and donate it to them.
  The next time you’re at Ingebretsen Scandinavian Foods, buy a pound of lutefisk to be given anonymously to the next customer who comes in.
  Send someone as anonymous greeting card.  Don’t do it more than once, though.  You may be treading on stalking laws.
  The next time you drive through a road-construction area, smile and wave at the MNDOT workers – using all of your fingers this time.
  Give a homemade craft project to a friend.  Be sure to look for it every time you visit and express disappointment when you don’t see it.
  Stand on the corner of Eighth and Nicollet and toss your hat into the air until you’ve turned the world on with your smile.
  Hum the “Beer Barrel Polka” all day at work to give your co-workers a real lift.