Friday Music Memoirs #2

Happy 4th of July to all of us here in the USA! And to celebrate:

Top 5 songs/and or albums that have America in the title.

Wings Over America -- Paul McCartney and Wings

Breakfast in America -- Supertramp

America the Beautiful -- Ray Charles

Living in America -- James Brown

America's Greatest Hits -- America*

*OK, I don't know that this is a real album, but I believe it's a really good guess

To play along yourself, or to see how other bloggers answered, click here.

Thursday Thirteen #75 -- Meet my Dad

THIRTEEN THINGS ABOUT MY DAD

My late father loved the Fourth of July. Wait, no, that’s not really true. Like everything else about him, his feelings about the Fourth were complicated.

He was very patriotic and loved the IDEA of celebrating the country he defended. But my memories of the Fourth when I was a girl all generally go like this …

If I marched in the 4th of July parade with my Girl Scout troop, he complained about having to drive me “all over creation” on his day off. If I didn’t march in the 4th of July parade with my Girl Scout troop, he was mad that I didn’t take my responsibilities seriously.

At my grandmother’s annual 4th of July barbecue, he’d complain that we kids were so loud he couldn’t hear the ballgame. Playing badminton or Frisbee, we might come too close and nearly knock over his plate and ashtray. Couldn’t my mom keep us in line?

Then we’d go to the village fireworks. If we drove, he’d be mad that he couldn’t get a parking space close enough to the field. If we walked the six or so blocks, he complained about the litter on the sidewalks and proclaimed the neighborhood kids “pigs.” Since the neighbors we were marching alongside could hear his assessment, I wanted to die of embarrassment.

My dad was a very hardworking man who got nowhere financially and it made him bitter. Off the chart bitter. He measured himself and others by material possessions, and always came up short. I wish he had been able to enjoy the real things in his life – my mother, his three daughters, our pets, the simple pleasures of the lawn and garden. But no, he obsessed about “them,” the people who were simply given the opportunities he had to work for. “They” included the poor on welfare, unions that handed a living to the lazy, women who didn’t have the sense nor femininity to stay home, minorities who weren’t satisfied with how far they had come in just 100 years … You get the idea.

This 4th of July – a holiday he always intended to celebrate – I am spotlighting him. I am trying to include things in this TT that aren’t tainted by vitriol, but it’s hard because unhappiness spread like a stain across his life and relationships.

1) He died of a stroke in 1991, but if he were still alive, my dad would have turned 75 last May.

2) He was a voracious reader. Like me, he enjoyed biographies. Unlike me, though he also had a real appreciation for poetry.

3) He was a lifelong Cub fan. As were his parents, and my mom’s parents. That’s how I KNOW my blood is Cubbie blue.

4) He loved cars and was a real gear head. A mechanic by trade, he spent weekends working in the pits at the local racetrack. My mom persuaded him to give it up when she was pregnant with my older sister because she was sure it was too dangerous.

5) He had a nice voice and sang with the car radio. I remember enjoying that a lot when I was a little girl.

6) For the first 10 or 12 years of their marriage, he was very comfortable showing my mother how much he loved her. During her difficult pregnancy with my baby sister, he brought my mom a rose every week and sang, “Red roses for a blue lady,” as he handed it to her. It’s tragic how sour their relationship became. He believed it was because he stopped making a lot of money, but it wasn’t that. As their finances started going south, in desperation he lied on their joint tax forms and let her unknowingly sign the bogus returns. There were fierce penalties for this. It wasn’t the money that upset her – she was pretty poor as a kid and really didn’t expect to be anything but – it was the exploitation of her trust that broke her heart.

7) He was very proud of his service as a corpsman in the Korean War. He enlisted in the Navy, but his unit was swallowed up by the Marines when he went into action, so he liked to say he was a Marine. This is when he learned some cool medical procedures. I was very proud that he could perform “butterfly stitches” on neighbor kids who got hurt outdoors in the summer. He was good at it and his handiwork never left noticeable scars.

8) He followed politics. That’s something else I got that from him. But I never respected how passive he was about it. A big one for yelling at the TV and complaining about “them,” he really never did anything about the “wrongs” he railed against. Once I became a voter, I became a letter writer and activist. (Just this week I got an email from Senator Durbin explaining his FISA vote.) I asked my dad why he didn’t do the same, even though we seldom agreed. It seemed to me that getting involved and doing something constructive would make him feel better than lecturing his wife and daughters. I still don’t understand why he preferred to do the latter.

9) The nightly news wasn’t the only show my dad yelled at. I grew to avoid watching sports with him because of the yelling, grunting and groaning. It wasn’t fun and made every game way more stressful than entertaining. After all, we weren’t the ones competing on the field or the diamond, we were sitting in our living room.

10) He was the middle child, between an older brother and a much younger sister. While the stories of his childhood that I have heard from his parents and siblings make their homelife sound pretty damn idyllic, my dad was by his own account often an unhappy kid. He often felt ignored – passed over for his accomplished older brother and adorable baby sister.

11) Since I, too, am a middle child and not unlike him in temperament, he was determined that I got my share of his attention. Sadly, what he meant as constructive criticism, I took as constant carping. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t love me as I was. It was especially confusing because my older sister got away with much more than I did and didn’t receive the same amount or concentration of his attention. Even worse, she felt neglected by him and jealous that I was his focus. Her bad behavior escalated in a futile attempt to get him to stop her.

I wish I had understood all this when I was younger, but that would be expecting an awful lot of a little girl. Better yet, I wish he’d been able to articulate all this to me so I didn’t have to figure it out on my own. It would have made a difference in his relationships with his kids.


12) He had a difficult time keeping friends. I remember Joe, Bobby, Ed and Lenny were all his pals for a time, but eventually they each stopped coming around. My uncle (his brother-in-law) suspects it was because my father could be terribly competitive. Not when he was playing pinochle, which he loved. But over money, homes, cars, etc. Apparently, if someone was down, my dad was a good friend. But he had a hard time enjoying his friends’ successes. It’s as though somehow it diminished him if they did well.

13) Toward the end of his life, he was very lonely. He alienated almost all of us – my mom, my sisters, his friends and me – with his bad temper and bitterness. His mom, my grandma, became his only friend. It was very sad. After my dad's massive stroke, but before he died, I remember sitting with my grandmother in her kitchen and talking about him. Talking helped her process what had just happened. She shook her head and said, "Poor Bill. Nothing ever came easily to him."

So, Daddy, here’s the Independence Day prayer I'm sending your way:

Thank you for my stubbornness. Ironic, considering how you felt about feminism, but it helps a woman to be willful in this world.
Thank you for my own patriotism, and my love of the written word.
Most of all, thank you for the blueprint of
how NOT to be – for showing me how
anger and bitterness can devour us whole if we let it.

Include your link in the comments and I'll add you here:
1) Hootin' Anni talks Betsey Ross, Uncle Sam and more
2) Allison reveals secrets and facts about … Allison!
3) Lost Hemisphere has a very funny Star Wars TT
4) Susan Helene Gottfried tells us how to celebrate like Shapeshifter
5) B Boys Mom lets her imagination run away with her
6) Bellezza shares her review of 13 books
7) Lori has words of wisdom for single parents
8) Sandy Carlson writes about the real meaning of Independence Day
9) Nina has a very romantic TT
10) Lady Rose's TT includes other, lesser Lady Roses
11) Jenny McB takes us along on her morning off
12) Chris has a genuinely riotous TT about reunions
13) Storyteller shines a spotlight on the good stuff
14) Jenn gets into the spirit of the holiday with her TT


Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others' comments. It’s easy, and fun! Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Just not that into it today

Yesterday I got an A-OK from the dermatologist at my annual "mole check" … the Cubs are playing on the west coast, which means I'm staying up late … I'm suffering from the inevitable dip in energy that comes after finishing the latest phase of The Big, On-Going Project … and, since the office is closed Thursday and Friday, I'm looking longingly ahead to a four-day weekend. These elements have combined to leave me more than a little distracted and, well, not that interested in being productive. It's hard to stop my brain from wandering to subjects that are definitely more appealing than introductory APRs (like men, or handbags, or something chilled and made with vodka).

Oh well, I'm sure that next week when I return from the holiday, I'll be my old Type-A self again.

Today would have been her birthday

#47, I believe. I wonder what a middle-aged Princess Diana would be doing. Charity work, for sure. Perhaps interfering with her sons' love lives. I don't think she would encourage them to marry as young as she did, nor to wait as long as their father did. I wonder how she would have felt about Harry's combat service. I'd like to think that she would have remarried … to JFK, Jr. and they would both still be alive today, causing unparalleled tabloid frenzy wherever they went. I guess the little girl in me still wants to believe in princesses, Camelot and happily ever after.

Tuesday Tunes #4

A little fun 4th of July style:
Make a mix of at least 10 songs w/or without art that sum up Independence Day for you.

Dialogue -- Chicago ("We can make it happen, yeah! We can make it happen!" Always love this song, especially now.)
No Surrender -- Bruce Springsteen
Little Pink Houses -- John Mellencamp
If I Can Dream -- Elvis
This Land Is Your Land -- Bruce Springsteen
Blowin' in the Wind -- Bob Dylan
The Horse -- Originally by Cliff Knobles, but I love hearing it at the 4th of July parade by a school marching band
America, The Beautiful
America ("of thee I sing")
The Star-Spangled Banner (as sung by the crowd at any sporting event)

To play along, or compare your responses to everyone else's, click here.

Go, Cubs, Go!

Our four-game slide -- longest of the season! -- is over. Ted Lilly went more than 8 innings, Mark DeRosa got a grand slam, and a fine time was had by all. At least all who were in attendance tonight. Three stars, Ramirez (paternity leave) and Zambrano (injury) and Soriano (injury), were not able to enjoy San Fran's hospitality along with their teammates. The first two will be back soon, and hopefully the last 7 days with those icky 4 consecutive losses will be nothing more than a bad memory in no time at all.

"The dark days are gone and the bright days are here ..."

I'm jealous of the two of them

My best friend, a Boulder native, is at the ballpark tonight. Watching his Rockies play the Padres. Guess who is pitching. Yes, my beloved future Hall of Famer, Greg Maddux.

Tonight two of my favorite men leave me feeling left out.

I have the strength of 10 and cannot be vanquished!

A group of coworkers and I wandered over to the Taste of Chicago at lunchtime and I am proud to report that I walked right past the booths that tempted me with familiar fare. No Robinson's rib tips or Billy Goat cheez-borger/cheez-borger for this Gal. Not today.

I HAD SHARK FOR LUNCH!

Skewered shark veracruz (or "shark on a stick," as we like to call it) was the feature at The Polo Cafe booth, and I went for it. It tasted like just about any other baked fish with a chunky tomato sauce and capers, but that's not the point.

I HAD SHARK FOR LUNCH!

I'm a wee bit burpy but still proud of myself. I am a true lunch time adventuress!

Manic Monday #14

What sound or noise do you love? A cat purr.

What sound or noise do you hate? You know the sound when you assemble a brand new moving box? The way the cardboard sounds against the cardboard? I get goosebumps just thinking of it. I may stay in my condo forever, just to avoid that noise.

What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Pet sitter.

What profession would you not like to do? Food service.

This kinda reminds me of that survey from the end of Inside the Actor's Studio on Bravo. Except it's missing the question about God -- "If Heaven exists, what would like to hear God say to you at the Pearly Gates?" My answer to that would be, "Hi, Honey. Welcome!"

To play along yourself, or to check other answers, click here.

Dear Amy …

Watching the game, drinking beer* and getting ready to write to Amy, my former admin who contacted me out of the blue last week. I really don't know what to tell her I've been up to, and OK, I admit that this post may just be a good way to put off composing something I don't know how to start. (Hey, I'm a professional writer! I bill by the hour! I can rhapsodize eloquently forever about the value of "creative avoidance.")

Today my emoticon has remained at "happy," and it's accurate. How to convey to Amy that my life, while low on drama, is high on contentment … and, to borrow from the Boss, that's alright with me?

My job's fine … I'm fat but fine … and I checked in with the fam today and it seems like all is well there, too.

My sister's family came back from vacation yesterday and today my 9-year-old nephew reported the highlights: he caught a 22" fish -- the biggest of his "fishing career!" -- which he photographed but then let go … he played with a kid named Dakota and Dakota's younger sister, Erin … the family cat is very happy they're home … and he feels my mom, his grandmother, did "a very good job" caring for his turtle, Georgina, in his absence. (My nephew has always been generous with praise.)

My mom is worried about my older sister's very troubled daughter. Since my mom was ill recently, you may assume that I'd view this as a bad thing. An unnecessary drain on her strength. But no, right now, I think it's a good thing because it means my mom is back to being her old self again. I know she loves and appreciates and depends on me. But it's nothing like the adoration she feels for her grandchildren. My older sister's daughter was unceremoniously dumped by her boyfriend, and this is worrisome because, in the past, this niece has been a cutter and she's even attempted suicide. Perhaps a regimen of unconditional grandma love is just what both grandmother and granddaughter need.

If my life was a novel along the lines of Little Women, of course I would be Jo (doesn't every girl see herself as Jo?) and my uncle would be Aunt March. He's rich, imperious, grumpy and seems to get pleasure out of only two things: his elderly tiger-striped tabby and discussing his wealth ad nauseum. However, unlike Aunt March, much of what makes him irascible and disagreeable is that he's dying slowly of Parkinson's Disease. That's why, weirdly enough, I am happy to report that he just sold his house at a loss. That house had been chosen and decorated by his late wife and it was too big for one person. His new, smaller home will have a smaller yard with neighbors nearer by, and, best of all by his lights, selling it at a loss of about $40,000 gives him the opportunity to really financially screw his much-hated stepdaughter. So much of what gave him his identity -- his good looks, his prowess on the ski slopes, his competitive time in 5K and 10K races -- is gone, stolen from him by Parkinson's. Manipulating this deal, playing financial chicken with someone who couldn't afford to lose when he could, made him feel alive again. He's really pleased with this deal (even with the loss he won't have to touch his principal), and so I'm pleased for him. Because while I don't especially like who he's become, I do understand him. And, as often in families, not liking someone doesn't preclude loving him.

Except for the part about my nephew's fish, none of this is appropriate "out of the blue" small talk for Amy, though, is it? Maybe if I switch to ink on paper, I'll think of something suitable to say …

*If the momentum of this game doesn't change soon, I'm switching to something stronger.

Look at That Girl Now

I'm watching a Law & Order: SVU repeat on USA and am impressed by Marlo Thomas. In the episode "Poison," she's Mary Clark, once a judge, now a high-powered Manhattan defense attorney. Yes, she looks terrific for a woman of about 70, but that's not what impresses me. A skillful surgeon and his knife just might deserve the credit for that. No, it's her performance.

The madcap, optimistic, super-trendy and aspiring (if never quite successful) actress of That Girl is a crisp, efficient realist who is tailored in both dress and manner. She uses her familiar alto voice to great advantage here. But instead of, "Don-ald …" or "Dad-dy …," she mutters admiringly, "Well, I'll give you this: you've got balls."

I guess this just goes to remind me that stars are actors.

Unconscious Mutterings #24

I say ... and you think ... ?

1. Loneliness :: "All the lonely people, where do they all belong?" (Eleanor Rigby)
   
2. Traffic :: Jam
   
3. Chaos :: KAOS (Get Smart)
   
4. Burp :: 'Scuze me
   
5. 500 :: Indianapolis
   
6. Movie :: Theater
   
7. Coma :: Amnesia, evil twins, and other soap opera plot devices
   
8. Bark :: Meow
   
9. Stare :: Glare
   
10. Angelina :: Ballerina (the world's best-dressed and most graceful mouse)

To mutter yourself, or to see how other bloggers responded, click here.

Me and "Her"

I often forget "Her," the me I once was, until something dopey happens that brings her roaring back.

The Cubs lost their second of three games to … sorry, I cannot even say it. I wasn't so much sad -- as a lifelong Cub fan, I've learned to take loss in stride. I was just unbelieving. This wasn't the way I wanted or expected it to go.

I have, by choice, no plans for tonight. Between the Crosstown Classic and Stevie Wonder at the Taste of Chicago, there are parties I could dive into. I just don't feel like it. I was out a lot last week, will be out a lot next week, am trying to be more sensible with money, and besides, I like my alone time.

So after the game, I began channel surfing. Looking for Law & Order. Original or SVU, I didn't care. Amazingly, perhaps for the first time in the history of cable, I could not find L&O! Instead. I landed on What's Love Got to Do with It, the Tina Turner biopic.

This may sound weird, but I actually forgot that I once suffered years of abuse at the hands of a lover. It was many years and lots of therapy sessions ago. Besides, unless confronted with it, I try to leave those memories tucked away. They seem irrelevant to the Me I am now. Those awful things happened to Her.

So it wasn't masochism that had me curl up on the couch with a Stouffer tuna casserole and Ike and Tina Turner. It was denial. Then the on-screen beatings started, and I couldn't ignore what had happened to Her anymore. So I grabbed the remote and clicked away.

I feel bad for Her. I am sorry that She didn't have the maturity to see what was happening, how she was being manipulated, while it was going on. I am proud that She finally screwed up the courage to get out. Most of all, I honor and respect her suffering by having learned from it. I've examined that whole relationship, acknowledge that I allowed it to happen, and am confident I will never, never be in Her position ever again.

Life goes on. And I like the life I've built since then. So now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get my laundry out of the dryer and see if I can't find some more books to donate for a community fundraiser. Somehow I'll enjoy doing these day-to-day things more than if I hadn't seen part of What's Love Got to Do with It.

Planning my own proper send off

I found this at Layla's Classic Rock Faves, and I think it's a revealing and provocative question:

WHAT MUSIC WOULD YOU HAVE PLAYED AT YOUR FUNERAL?

I take my music very seriously, always have. So I've chosen two songs that I think represent me well, and will remind my mourners of my life. (This is the weirdest exercise!)

"Mary's Place" by Bruce Springsteen

Familiar faces around me
Laughter fills the air
Your loving grace surrounds me
Everybody's here
Furniture's out on the front porch
Music's up loud
I dream of you in my arms
I lose myself in the crowd

Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain
Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain
Meet me at Mary's place, we're gonna have a party
Meet me at Mary's place, we're gonna have a party
Tell me how do you live broken-hearted?
Meet me at Mary's place

"Let It Be" by The Beatles
When the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me
Shine until tomorrow
Let it be.
I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom,
Let it be.

What about you? Are there any songs you think would be appropriate for your last party?

An unnecessary decision

The village I live in has made it illegal to own handguns. The city I work in has made it illegal to own handguns. Voters in both my village and in Chicago accept -- even embrace -- these laws. Yet something that isn't broken is about to be "fixed," thanks to the Supreme Court.

In their ruling about the DC gun ban, striking it down with a razor-thin 5-4 majority, the Supremes have imperiled Chicago's law. And Mayor Daley, God bless him, is pissed. He began by calling the ruling "very frightening" and went on to add:

"Does this lead to everyone having a gun in our society? If [the justices] think that's the answer, then they're greatly mistaken. Then why don't we do away with the court system and go back to the Old West, you have a gun and I have a gun and we'll settle it in the streets?"

I have come to believe that guns are a regional issue. Citizens in Chicago, Philadelphia, San Francisco, etc., don't necessarily view them as a "right." They are, instead, often seen as a peril to our neighborhoods and children. It's no accident that where crimes like urban dog fighting flourish, so do illegal firearms. I have also vacationed in Arkansas and Wisconsin often enough to know that there's a culture of hunters, law-abiding people who consider their guns a valuable part of their lifestyle and heritage.

The reality is that this is a big country, and that attitudes and needs change and shift as you move from sea to shining sea. If a majority of voters here accept our gun ban, why can't it stand? Second Amendment, yeah, yeah, yeah. Our founding fathers built the Constitution to be flexible. I believe the Second Amendment should be repealed, and the "right" of gun ownership should be determined by municipality. And, by the way, no one will ever be convince me that great men like Jefferson and Adams meant for the Constitution to protect gang bangers and to facilitate children killing children, which is what the handgun ban in Chicago is designed to curb.

But, alas, I'm a realist. Barack Obama's disappointing response to this ruling pointed me to the writing on the wall. And if the handgun bans here and in Chicago are repealed, I'm going to miss sleeping soundly at night.

Friday Music Memoirs #2

TOP 5 ON FRIDAY
Top 5 Songs with "You" in the Title

These are the first five that occurred to me, and I do love them all.
1) She Loves You -- The Beatles
2) You Don't Know Me -- Jann Arden (and many others, but I like hers best)
3) You Can Look, But You Better Not Touch -- Bruce Springsteen
4) If Only You Knew -- Patti LaBelle
5) You Never Can Tell -- Chuck Berry

To play along yourself, and to see how others answered, visit here.

Friday's Feast #34

Appetizer
What is the weather like today where you live? 80º+ with a chance of thunderstorms. It's gonna be humid like this through the weekend. This means that I'll have that "Hermie the Elf" thing happening with my bangs each day.

Soup
On a scale of 1-10 with 10 being highest, how career-minded are you? 6. If I can hang on to this job, serve my clients well, and get my finances in shape, I'll be happy enough. But I can remember well those days, not that long ago, when I made "career moves." It just doesn't matter so much anymore.

Salad
What type of window coverings do you have in your home? Blinds, curtains, shutters, etc.? Blinds and drapes in the bedrooms, drapes alone in the livingroom.

Main Course
Name something that instantly cheers you up. Hearing from my best friend.

Dessert
How many times do you hit the snooze button on a typical morning? Three times.

For more information,or to whip up your own feast, click here.

They like me! They really like me!

Nice things people have said to me this week …

"I just wanted you to know I am thinking of you." An out-of-the-blue email from my former administrative assistant, who I haven't seen in 2 jobs and 9 years.

"I refuse to! Why would I go into the Loop if I can't get together with a dear friend for drinks and conversation." My former boss, who has had his share of medical problems, was planning a follow-up exam with his GP around my schedule. I told him to keep the appointment next week anyway, even though this time I won't be able to meet him afterward, like I usually do.

"But you're our glue. We'll reschedule." The only day next week that I'm free to go to the Taste of Chicago is Monday. And Monday is the only evening our single-dad-friend can see his kids next week. So I told my friends to go another evening without me, and that's how one of them responded.

"Expect an invitation pretty soon. I mean, you know I gotta invite the Gal!" A long-time friend who is getting married soon. This call cheered me up because, as he moved in with his future Bride and began planning the wedding, I naturally have seen my drinking buddy less and less.

I don't know why I've been on the receiving end of all this LOOOVVE all in one week, but I'm completely digging it. It's good to feel appreciated, and these words have meant a lot to me.

Thursday Thirteen #73 -- There's No Place like Home

THIRTEEN TV SHOWS

THAT CHANGED FOR THE WORST

WHEN THEY CHANGED LOCATIONS

I love I Love Lucy, unless she’s in Connecticut. When I tune into the TV Land Classic and see that living room with the staircase, I inwardly groan. The Riccardos belong in NYC! The vacations in Europe, Florida and, of course, Hollywood were fun, but we knew that eventually they were returning to that brownstone. Lucy in the burbs is just wrong.

I’m not alone in feeling this way. More than 560 voters at Jump the Shark agree with me. Here are the top 13 shows TV aficionados believe lost their way when they left home.

1) The X-Files moved from Vancouver to LA
2) All in the Family lost Gloria, Mike and little Joey to their own home
3) Laverne and Shirley moved from Milwaukee to Los Angeles
4) I Love Lucy goes out to the country
5) The Facts of Life girls graduate and open Edna’s Edibles
6) Little House on the Prairie leaves that little house behind
7) Coach graduates from college ball to the NFL and Florida
8) Pinky and the Brain move to Elmyra’s
9) Perfect Strangers moved from their own little apartment to a big house with their girlfriends
10) Pimp My Ride moved to a new shop
11) Yes, Dear moved into their own home
12) McHale’s Navy left their post in the South Pacific for Italy
13) Mary Tyler Moore nails her M on the wall of a bigger apartment

If this were MY list, and not one I stole from jumptheshark.com, it would have Kate moving in with Allie and husband Bob on Kate and Allie and Tony moving out of Angela’s house on Who’s the Boss? in the top 13. (Uh-oh! Did I just admit to watching Who’s the Boss?)

Include your link in the comments and I'll add you here:
1) Michelle has a beautiful, arty TT
2) Malcolm takes us back to the 1980s
3) Chelle gives us a tour of her family room
4) See what Allison is willing to reveal about Allison
5) Hootin' Ani shares more wisdom from Jefe
6) SJR gets us in the Indepedence Day spirit
7) Bellezza and her dog Henry take us for a hike in the woods
8) Jenny McB just doesn't get these 13 things
9) Nicholas takes on workplace cliches
10) Claudia shares what works for her
11) Susiej dedicates her summery TT to ice cream
12) Kristi curls up and dozes off for her TT
13) Sandy remembers George Carlin
14) Susan Helene Gottfried has more musical misadventures of the "fake" variety
15) Jehara shows us her home
16) Journeywoman shares some of George Carlin's best bits
17) Lori gets all yummy on us
18) Clarence shares 13 facts about poor young Paloma
19) Forgetfulone shares what she learned during her Arizona vacation
20) Angie remembers rocking in the 1980s
21) Renee highlights her favorite Post Secrets
22) Peter Plum introduces us to a game of chance
23) Lisa's TT is devoted to Q
24) Brenda helps the budding author in each of us
25) Amy catches us up on the last 7 years
26) Clara has some breathtaking lighthouse shots
27) Chris ends his June 13s on a proud note


Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others' comments. It’s easy, and fun! Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

We're still us

I saw my best friend last night for the first time since May! We exchange emails a couple times a day, but we haven't been in the same room in three months. I have missed him enormously because he's one of the few people I'm entirely comfortable with, because it feels like he really gets me and accepts me. Also because, while his life isn't perfect (no one's is), he is refreshingly drama free. He feels like a safe haven.

Last night he caught me up on his family, his vacation and his job. We discussed his poor dog (see below) and baseball and the Presidential election. We talked and laughed about my job. Then I helped him with a slide for his Powerpoint presentation (he was, after all, in Chicago on business). Best of all, I gave him his birthday gifts -- a personalized cutting board, a cookbook of recipes direct from "The Conch Republic," and an oven mitt that says, "Caution! Men Cooking."

It was a lovely evening, and seeing him made me so very happy. I'm so glad we're still the same friends we've always been. It's good to have a relationship like this I can count on.

Pupdate

Here's the latest on my best friend's dog: She has a herniated disc, which accounts for her difficulty moving, and the tests revealed a bladder infection. Her complete bloodwork isn't back yet, so the vet has postponed any real "work" on the disc until it's confirmed that nothing else is wrong. In the meantime, she's on antibiotics and painkillers. Thanks to the meds, and being home with her people and her routine, her appetite has returned.

The good news is that vet seems very matter-of-fact about all this, as though this is simply what happens to border collies as they age.

My friend and his wife are both quite melancholy about their dog's condition. First of all, she was their "baby" before they had their daughters, so naturally she's an integral part of their life, a member of the family, and they love her.

Then there's the poignant parental aspect of it. While it seems like a good bet that the dog will come through this and enjoy a comfortable life again, she is nearly 14 years old. At some point, sooner rather than later, my friend is going to be confronted with one of the more difficult tasks of Daddydom. As he said last night, "The girls don't know life without that dog." He's told me time and again how involved the dog has always been with those girls, how she's worn a track around the perimeter of their lawn, racing around to protect and "herd" the kids as they played outside. The inevitably sad way this story is going to end tugs at the heart. It's times like this that I'm glad I'm not a mom.

When I get home to my healthy, happy cats tonight, I'm going to give them each an extra head rub and take the time to really appreciate what a gift they are to me.

He's here!

My best friend is in Chicago for the night. We'll be meeting in about an hour to celebrate his birthday and catch up. I'm so happy … so excited … I've missed him soooo much!

Tag Time!

Mr. Sparky Duck tagged me, and I'm glad, because it gives me an excuse to use this cool picture. Now, here are the rules:

a) Link to the person who tagged me.

b) Mention the rules.

c) Tell six quirky yet boring, unspectacular details about myself.

d) Tag 6 other bloggers by linking to them.

e) Go to each person’s blog and leave a comment that lets them know they’ve been tagged.

And now, I am sure, more than you ever wanted to know...

1) Geeky as ever, I still look forward to getting my mail each day. I'm not even disappointed when it's all bills.

2) My cat Joey is named for Joey Tribbiani, Matt LaBlanc's character on Friends. LaBlanc should be honored -- my Joey is quite a guy, a cat among cats.

3) I have never shoplifted anything, nor have I snuck into the movies without paying. I have been known to cross against the light, but that's about as lawless as this Gal gets.

4) I wear a size 6.5 shoe (sometimes a 7, depending on the shoe).

5) Because I prefer the Cubs' radio broadcasters, at least once a season I try to watch a game with the TV sound off and the radio on. I tell myself that this time it won't bother me that the sound and picture aren't in sync (TV is on delay by a second or two), but it does and I give up. But hope springs eternal with me. I guess that's part of being a Cub fan.

6) I hate tomatoes. Their consistency creeps me out. Too runny inside. So I haven't missed them one bit during the restaurant ban.

THERE! Was I quirky enough? Boring enough?

Now for the tagging ...

1) Mo
2) Book Mama
3) Jenny McB
4) Kwizgiver
5) No Nonsense Girl
6) Malcolm

Tuesday Tunes #3

What if:

What if a friend took your favorite CD and never returned it. First what CD would it be, and how huge of a row/fight would you have with your friend as a result? I'd say my favorite CD, my go-to CD when I want familiar songs that evoke pleasant memories, is the soundtrack to My Best Friend's Wedding. Under most circumstances, I'd ask for it back regularly until it was returned. If it was a friend who took it with when he moved (which happened to me not all that long ago), I'd just chalk it up to him wanting a memento that reminded him of me and I'd buy another one.

What if you found a mix CD laying on the ground? Would you pick it up and try to play it? Nope. Ooh! Icky! Dirty! And just waiting to gum up my CD player.

What if you somehow ended up having dinner with your favorite recording artist, what would the dinner conversation be like? Do you prefer Sir Paul or Dr. McCartney? Do you still set out to write songs like you did with John (that's the story I heard about "A Hard Day's Night"), or do you just compose when the song comes to you? Did she really throw a glass of water on your lawyer in court? And why on earth didn't you have a prenup?

To play along, or to check out other answers, click here.

Heads & Tails #17

Today's theme is "line." As someone who doesn't drive -- and with gas at about $4.25/gallon, I'm glad I don't -- the word "line" conjures up public transportation. Fortunately the Chicagoland area has a pretty extensive, highly affordable system that exists under the RTA (Regional Transit Authority). Here are the "lines" I couldn't do without:

CTA El -- I take the Green Line elevated train to and from work each day. 45 minutes door to door, and $1.75 per trip. Those who prefer battling rush hour traffic and paying for city parking are welcome to it. I'll just sit here and read the paper en route to work.

Metra Railroad -- If I'm working late, or having dinner or partying downtown, I take the Union Pacific West Line home. A little more expensive than the El, it's also a little safer after dark.

Pace Suburban Bus System -- I refer to this as "my other car," my weekend wheels. I ride the 307 Line to the mall and 304 Line when I go home to visit my mom.

If you can, give both your wallet and the environment a break and consider taking a bus or train ride at least once a week. It just might help us reduce our national dependence on fossil fuel.

For more information on Heads or Tails, or to play along yourself, visit the HoT site.

Poor Old Girl

My best friend went away for about five days and left the family border collie/mix at a kennel. He picked her up today and was most upset with what he heard. The woman who cared for the dog this past week said Gumbo was stiff and slow moving and at times seemed to be in pain. Naturally when she heard my friend's voice she went nuts with happiness and exhibited no symptoms at all, but he's going to keep a very close eye on her.

He somehow senses this may be "it" for her. In the past year she's had one health problem after the other … allergies that made it hard for her to keep her food down, an inner ear infection that temporarily had an impact on her balance, etc. Now this.

I told him to just watch her closely and get her to the vet, two things he was going to do anyway. It could be arthritis or some back problem that can be treated easily with meds.

But Gumbo has been a member of his family since before his 6th grade daughter was born, so I know she must be at least 13 years old. Today wasn't the time to ask, but it's possible she's 14. She is an elderly and much-loved lady. This may just be the beginning of that awful, slow journey that all pet owners dread. I hope it's not, but the instincts of an owner who loves his dog are often right, even when they're heartbreakingly sad.

Manic Monday #13

Are you a talker or a listener? Is it ever possible to really be both? Not for me. I babble and blab. Especially when I'm excited. I try to be a better listener, but it's hard.

Do you think God has a sense of humor? Yes. And I believe that He thinks I'm funny. I also suspect He's very happy to be able to spend quality time with George Carlin, whose humor was always gentle.

Do you believe in love at first sight? Have you ever experienced it? No, and no. Lust, yes. Infatuation, of course. But love takes time.

To play along yourself, or to see other answers, visit the official Manic Monday site.

I think this a GOOD thing

Update on my friend, Kathy -- the one whose life completely got away from her and she ended up broke, unemployed and crashing with her daughter's family (and her daughter's house is being foreclosed upon sometime this summer).

I have done what I can to help her -- primarily finding a good, temporary home for her two cats until she finds somewhere permanent to live. Her two gray tabbies are being fostered by the animal shelter where I adopted my cat, Reynaldo, in exchange for Kathy volunteering her time. The cats get to stay together, are well cared for in terms of food and vet attention, and get time out of their cages every day so they get exercise. Plus Kathy helped with the shelter's rummage sale and will handle other projects for them, so she doesn't feel she's accepting charity. In all, I think this was the happiest circumstance we could have hoped for.

I had breakfast with Kathy yesterday and was encouraged by the change in her attitude. Up until now, she was simply overwhelmed. I completely understood that. She was in dire circumstances herself and was worried about her daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren. That must have been terrifying.

What I didn't understand, though, was her point-of-view on her situation. She kept saying that she ended up this way "through no fault" of her own. Or, "I know there's no one to blame here." I wanted to slap her, a la Cher, and shout, "Snap out of it!"

She knew her real estate business was going nowhere for more than a year. She must have spent many a sleepless night crunching numbers, knowing how much debt and how few assets she had left. She let it get far, far too bad before she abandoned ship and got an administrative assistant job which, by all accounts, didn't perform well at. While I have nothing but compassion for her, and realize we are capable of making very bad decisions, I also try to have at least one foot in reality at all times. If these circumstances are not her fault, whose fault are they? And as long as she feels like a victim of what life has handed her, what hope does she have of turning it around?

But yesterday she actually said, "I know I screwed up." In her follow-up email this morning, she mentioned how important it was for her to get her cats back because "they trusted me and I let them down." I don't think it's a coincidence that, now that she has accepted some responsibility for what's happened, that she feels empowered enough to plan.

She has gotten a job laying out ads for a suburban newspaper. She wants to get back into writing, and this is a wonderful first step. She realizes that while she has a free roof over her head and free food for the next few months, she has to maintain her own cell phone, car payments and health/auto insurance. She's also using this opportunity to get a little ahead so that, when her daughter's family rents a house, she can rent an apartment and be independent again. I was so happy to hear all this!

I'm not saying that we should all spend hours beating ourselves up for our faults and missteps. I also realize that Kathy is not responsible for escalating health costs and a real estate market that crashed around her. But when you're a complete victim of circumstance, then you don't have any power to improve your own lot. I believe we must OWN our lives, must admit our responsibility and then we must try to shape what we can. That's what she's doing now, and it makes me very happy.

"Hey, Chicago, what do you say? Cubs are gonna win today!"

I was going to mention the White Sox in the title and illustrate this post with a broom, but that would be sooooo tacky. I'm so happy right now, I can be compassionate toward those tragic loser fans on the South Side. It's been a great weekend!

It's bugging me

My mom is doing well since her hospital stay, and I'm grateful. She swears up and down she hasn't had a cigarette in over a month. She is adhering to her med regimen -- remembering when to take her pills and when to use her inhaler. She's taking it easy but still becoming more active day by day, week by week. She felt strong enough to clean up her own backyard after one of our recent wicked thunderstorms (removing a branch so big it was really a hunk of tree) and I was so proud of her! Her doctor is so pleased with her recovery that he is giving her July off -- allowing her to skip next month's appointment and wait till August to see him again.

But here's the thing: She's getting vague. The first time I noticed it, I thought it was funny. She asked me something about my friend, John. SHE brought him up. I answered. She replied with an anecdote about my brother-in-law. I said, "You're right, that sounds just like John." She said, "John? John who?" I teased her about it and she laughed.

It happened again Friday. It was more subtle, and I didn't even mention it to her. But it did happen and it's been bothering me, little a pebble in my shoe. She told me something cute my older sister said. Only it wasn't my older sister. She was telling me a story about me.

She's getting old. She's over 70 and she endured a bout with pneumonia and is recovering slowly, but recovering all the same. Maybe this is to be expected as her body adjusts to all her meds. But I will remain vigilant. If it happens again between now and her August doctor visit, I'm going to insist she mention it to him.

Sunday Randomness

This week's questions are book related....

1. Who are your favorite authors? Non-fiction: Doris Kearns Goodwin; Fiction: Marian Keyes; Mystery: Sue Grafton or Robert Parker

2. What are your favorite books? JFK: Restless Youth, Gone with the Wind

3. What kind of books do you tend to read? Sci-fi, Romance, Mystery...etc...? Biography, chick-lit, mystery

4. Do you prefer to borrow books from the library or buy them? Buy them

5. Do you prefer hardcover or paperback? Hardcover

6. What was the last book you read? What are you reading now? Last book: Shopaholic and Baby. Currently: Abigail Adams. (They're both on my Shelfari shelf at right)

7. Do you read everyday? Yes. I read on the train, at the health club or over meals.

8. On average how many books do you read per year? From June 07 to June 08, I've read 21 books.

9. Do you belong to any book clubs? Nope.

10. Recommend a good book. Saving Graces: Finding Solace and Strength from Friends and Strangers by Elizabeth Edwards. This book had a tremendous impact on me. Elizabeth Edwards faces grief, mourning and recovery head on. She spares nothing. Her unflinching honesty taught me many things, not the least of which is to graciously accept help from others when I need it.

To play along, or to check out other answers, click here.

"It's (snap) competition, Bay-buh!"

The TV Land modeling/reality show, She's Got the Look, had given me a freakazoid that I loved to hate, Paula. Striking and beautiful, she's also highly muscled and very tattooed. Oh, and she has virtually no hair. She had a memorable freakout last week, saying that she resented being judged on her appearance. OF COURSE YOU DO, Paula! You entered a modeling competition to show us your intellect. She also lied. She explained away her less than glam portraits by saying she was uncomfortable because she's never been photographed professionally before. Then how do we explain this portrait of "Whip Snap," her alter ego on the Sci-Fi Channel's "Who Wants to Be a Superhero? Sorry, but I don't believe it was snapped with a disposable camera picked up at CVS. And while I could describe her look in this shot as many things, "self conscious" is not one of them.

But this week, my heart went out to her. It was a runway competition and this poor woman could not walk in heels. Could not. She was so awkward, so frightened, so pathetic that I couldn't even bring myself to laugh at her. It was a relief when she was voted off.

So now I'm left with Chicago-girl Celeste as my show villain. More conventionally beautiful than Paula, she's graceful and has decades-ago modeling experience. She's positioning herself as the tough-as-nails, battle-hardened one to beat. When one of the women expressed sadness that her best "show buddy" had been eliminated last week, Celeste pooh-poohed it. "It's (snap) competition, Bay-buh!" And when the women had to reveal something about themselves no one knows, one talked about putting her modeling aspirations on hold for her kids … one talked about a miserable marriage … another was stabbed when she was in junior high … But it was Celeste who really opened up. Yes, she bravely ponied up with, "I play a mean saxophone." I wept.

I'm still pulling for Hope. She's real, she's funny, and she's short (like me). Best of all, I admire how willingly she throws herself into each challenge and changes her look. She's loves fashion and she's going for her dream, and it's fun to watch her.

Another win on the North Side

As Snowbird noted in a comment on my entry below, the Cubs' glory just keeps growing! We still have the best record in MLB. We are still unbeaten in an even dozen games at home.

Yet to gloat over today's decisive 11-7 victory over our inner-city rivals would be tacky, South Side behavior. So instead I'll just show the W for Win pennant. The "W" is like a single strand of pearls or a simple black dress ... in its elegant, understated way, it says it all.

My, what a lovely afternoon!

1) I got the afternoon off.

2) The Cubs beat the Sox -- in the bottom of the 9th! At home in the Friendly Confines of Wrigley Field, no less.

3) I got my brows waxed for the first time, and contrary to my fears, I do not look like a perpetually surprised cartoon character.

4) I celebrated with a cup of Ben & Jerry's Coconut Almond Fudge.

All this and heaven, too!

Friday Music Memoirs

Top 5 albums that you can't stop playing lately, and tell us why you love them!

1) On right now, Silk Degrees by Boz Scaggs. "We're All Alone" popped up when I had my iPod on Shuffle and I was so happy to hear it. It's been a while since I listened to this one, and it's good to get back in touch with my inner blue-eyed-soul-70s chick every now and again.

2) Van Morrison at the Movies. His soundtrack hits. It's a good representation of his entire career in 19 tracks, and really, I can't hear "Jackie Wilson Said (I'm in Heaven when You Smile)" often enough these days.

3) The Beatles White Album. There may be better Beatle albums, but none with this variety of genres and styles. Whatever mood I'm in, somehow the White Album manages to fit it.

4) Songs about Jane by Maroon 5. Welcome to Hitsville. "Harder to Breathe," "This Love," "She Will Be Loved," "Sunday Morning" …

5) The Very Best of Dusty Springfield. Speaking of "hits," they're all here. At times these arrangements sound corny and stupid, but Dusty herself is always amazing. I didn't know "I Close My Eyes and Count to 10" before I picked this up. Now I love it.

To play along, or check out other answers, click here.