For Bill:
In which Pooh makes excuses for not blogging and posts a funny poem inspired by jeremy.
Bless me bloggers for I have sinned..... it has been almost 691200 seconds since my last post, and I have been a very bad boy........
well.. not really, I just thought it would be a good way to get your attention.
There are so many things to talk about I don't know where to start....no really, I don't know where to start.....anybody?? anyone? Bueller??/
Ok I am inspired by my friend Jeremy and his efforts to produce some magnetic poetry ...I decided to do the same only I don't have any magnetic poetry thingies.... I DO have a refrigerator though and so here is the poem on my refrigerator door
Westinghouse!
frost free are you ready for some football?
The honor of your presence is stuffed crust gold!
The Ides of March in case of Fire or Medical emergency.
Hapy birtday baabaa carrots, diet pepsi and toilet paper.
It's toothurty, your teeth May Have Already Won!!
"To announce that there must be no criticism of the President, or that we are to stand by the President, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public."
Theodore Roosevelt.....
Welcome to this week's episode of "Let's Smack Iraq!!!"...
Brought to you by...
Halliburton...
Generously Helping to Rebuild Iraq Day by Day!!! (at only $1 billion per).
"Because our guy Chaney SAYS SO, so fuck-off!!"
And...
Raytheon Systems..
WE ARE Tomahawk Cruise Missiles!
"We don't care who we blow up!! We just know it is our GOD given right to sell these at $1 million a pop, to every country in the world no matter how vile the regime. (Hell, we sell to the US and look how vile they are!!)
Also by....
Lockheed-Martin..
Home of the F-117 Stealth Bomber..
"We're working on a new $90 million dollar plane SO stealthy it will be completely invisible. Only we can see it. You will even have to let us tell you how many we built, where it is, and what it did in battle. In fact we have already built and deployed ...uh...40.
And finally, by
George W Bush....
War deity.
Shamelessly lining the pockets of big business, generation after generation.
I am sick and ashamed at what is being perpetrated by my government in the name of The United States of America right now.
"Nonviolence is the answer to the crucial political and moral questions of our time; the need for mankind to overcome oppression and violence without resorting to oppression and violence. Mankind must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression, and retaliation.
The foundation of such a method is love."
Martin Luther King Jr. (1929 - 1968), December 11, 1964
Our "President" is talking about spending up to 100 billion... (That's BILLION) for the SHORT TERM prosecution of this war...(oh yeah he is also giving the top 1% income wise, a huge tax break at the same time)
To put that in perspective, there are about 290 million people in the US. That is roughly $345 dollars for every man woman and child in this country for 3 or so months of war.
Breaking it down a bit further, approximately 30 percent of our population (About 90 million) is under 14 and over 65. So if you want to talk about the percentage of the people that are paying for most of it. (The 15 through 65 folks) It costs about 500 per person that way.
Now lets look at Iraq. They have a population of about 23 million with a bit less than 50% of the population being between 14 and 65..This works out to the USA spending about $4,400 for every man woman and child or about $9000 for every under 14 and over 65 year old person in Iraq to wage war against them for 3 or so months..............
Can any of us even imagine what we kind of good we could do in 3 months with $4400 dollars for every living person in Iraq?
Or just imagine spending $9000 for every child and old person in Iraq in 3 months. Schools, medicine, food, shelter................
Instead we bought 24 tomahawk missile's tonight at 1 million per and 4 laser guided bombs at 6 million per.
That is 48 million in about 2 minutes..for blowing up shit.....and we missed what we were REALLY aiming at.....
Oh and by the way, we have some kids and old people in this country that could use some help as well.............
What the FUCK is the matter with us!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Short post...(You all didn't think I was capaable of that I know..)
On a scale of one to ten, today was a -3, and I don't really have the energy to deal with it anymore today so............ short.
It is only a little before 1 AM Wed, but it feels like I have been up since January. I am going to go take a half dozen aspirin and try to get rid of the mule kicking me in the head....then maybe some sleep...
You know how some rich people get their names put on new wings of hospitals? They make a huge donation to cover the cost of building it, and in consideration of their philanthropy it becomes.."The Sinatra Cancer Wing" or whatever.
I have recently had just such an honor bestowed upon me. Not long ago, a new wing was designed and built due directly to my contributions. So now if you go and look, you will see a sign leading you down the hall to the new addition........ The Brooklyn Center Pizza Hut is proud to present, "Jack's Stuffed Crust Dining Room"........
(I am so proud..sniff...sniff)
Now I don't want you to get the idea that I eat all the pizza myself. Often recording sessions go late at my studio and I am obliged to keep all the musicians happy and fed and that can add up to a lot of pies..
I have not been doing as much recording in the last year, and so both the frequency and size of my orders have been way, way down. However, I am finishing a huge project that I have been working on, and with super long hours, eating becomes something you do quickly. Sooooooo in the last 2 months, orders are again ...way up.
This gets me to the point of my post tonight.....(Alright Already!!!)
I have a new pizza delivery guy....... We did not get on very well when he first delivered. He thinks I insulted him, but I didn't, he just misunderstood me....You see, my old pizza delivery guy was a girl.... a very cute girl....very.........
Of course, this had absolutely no bearing whatsoever on my personal pizza ordering habits, ehem, but I think it might have been one of the reasons all my musician buddies would scream out pizza when I asked what everybody wanted for dinner on nights we recorded.
Anyway, the first time the new guy shows up, I ask him where my regular delivery person is. He gets really upset and start yelling at me!!!!! "What's wrong with me?" He starts waving that hot sleeve thing around in the air..."You think I can't deliver you pizza's? That I am against you?" I'm like.. "Whoa dude ..slow down" .... He does not speak very fluent english so this exacerbated the problem, but I finally get him to understand why I was wondering about Destiny.(
the delivery girl). It wasn't that I didn't like him, but just really enjoyed her.
It turns out that he is Iranian. He is darkly complexioned and he looks VERY middle eastern. His name is Namvar. He said he was pissed at me because he thought I didn't want him as a delivery guy due to his being of middle eastern descent. I said that was ok, if I had not wanted him because he was middle eastern, that would have been insulting, and he would have had every right to be pissed at me....
THAT shut him up!! Once he understood I was ok with him, he calmed down, then he apologized for getting upset. He told me he and his family have only been here in the States a couple of years. I asked him if he liked it here. I was very interested in his reply. Namvar smiled a bit sadly and said that he came here to get away from all the anger and hostility in Iran. So that he and his wife and his 2 girls could live in peace in America. They bought a house and moved into it on Sept 12, the day after the attack. He said that up till then, it was like coming to a new world just like in the fairy tales. You don't know how good it is here he said till you have been someplace like Iran or much worse Iraq.
Everyone was wonderful and accomodating he said, and they had seen almost no trouble or problems with people the whole first year they were here, living in an apartment in NE Mpls. Since 9/11 and after moving to the house though, he said it has been terrible. His girls get harassed at school and in the neighborhood. His wife gets yelled at in the supermarket and doing errands. Namvar said that last week someone spit at him when he was delivering a pizza. I asked him if he having trouble getting a job, if that was why he was delivering pizza's.......No ...I have a job as a computer programmer in Saint Louis Park....
He went on. In Iran we had a nice house, money, cars and I had a good job. But we ended up having to leave a lot of it behind when we came here. It was ok though, we wanted to come live here in the USA where it is free and my girls will be free. I am delivering pizza so my daughters can go to the University of Minnesota when they are old enough. He pointed out to the car in the drivway with the stupid Pizza Hut thing on it's roof, and I looked out and saw 2 girls maybe 8 and 10 sitting in the front seat looking out at us..He waved at them and they shyly waved back. I did the only thing I could think to do, I gave him a $20 dollar tip. I said, here is $10 for each daughter's fund. I really admire what you are doing and I am sorry people are treating you badly. It really think it will get better soon At least I hope so.
Then he said, even though it is bad, this is 100 times better than everyday in Iran. My family has patience and we believe things will return to the way things have always been in America. The one place you can really be free.
Namvar thanked me profusely for the tip and then walked back to his car.........
I marveled at this guy's spirit, and the enthusiasm and guts it took for the whole family to pick up their life stakes and move here.
As I waved goodby to the girls, I thought, try not to judge us too harshly right now. I don't think America is at her best these days....Then I thought...Yeah, but if we keep letting the likes of you and your family into this country, we will be again....soon...
I'd like to quote the inscription on the Statue of Liberty. It is a saying that I have kept taped to my desk for 20 years. I find it incredibly inspirational
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
This is something we should all read once in a while. Then we should remember just who makes up the population of this country, and where WE all came from.
And just how WELL we have done...all us wretched refuse.......
I always get chills when I reread this. It reminds me that there are things that we should always stand for....we of the golden door.
I suppose I have been goofing of just about long enough on his site. I have been promising you a story of such ...humongous proportions, as to put all my other stories to shame.
Damn the quality, I am going for sheer size...There will be no humor...(that shouldn't be hard), and I will use every trick of writing I know, to stretch this story out till it is massive.................I mean really massive...really really massive..huge. Multiple tomes even. I will be utilizing tons of hanging participles.........you'll see..........
I'll speak and write in 1st person for sure. Then I will showcase his abilities as a writer by calling attention to his 2nd person style because he like to show off. Unless somebody blows the whistle on it and the 3rd person style rears it's ugly head.
Yes I will pad pad pad and pad to make this the biggest one ever. However, you are all going going to have to step back a ways so I have room enough to whip it out.......
Once upon a, long long ago in a galaxy far far away, it was the best of times. (Whaddya think so far? Pretty catchy opener huh?)
Back in the days of my youth, I was a student at a Minneapolis Public Jr/Sr High School. For the purpose of the story, it is incumbent on me to describe a few things about myself to you, as it will be pertinent later.
I was a creative and brainy geek, and a complete non-trouble maker in school. I had just one thing on my mind all during those years.....no, not that..well ok that too but mostly, that came later..All I thought about was the arts. Music, Theater, Writing...It was what I wanted to do..... that and I read like 3 books a week... Ok put that kid in your mind
Then, think back and add that guy to the kid you knew in Jr and Sr high school that was in the band..AND the choir....and on the debate team, add to him, a 5 foot 4 inch frame and a extremely verbal approach to combating bullies. Toss in the fact that I was that "shitty little munchkin" that by scoring 8 or 9 better that everyone, used to screw up the bell curve of practically every test I ever took, thereby ensuring that I got the only A. I'm sure you can see why I was, shall we say, a bit marginalized by my fellow students and did not really enjoy school very much.
I actually think I could have, but I spent way to much of my school career running for my life. I was regularly stuffed into locked gym lockers for fun and games, or because some knuckle dragging football neanderthal thought I was personally responsible for his Cro-Magnon like test scores.
Or, there was the entire winter of my 8th grade, where I hid from a Len Dean in the school library. Why??? It seems I helped his girlfriend ace a history final and she said she thought I was smart and nice...... thereby throwing the "going postal on the geek" hormone switch on Len, who literally stalked me for 2 months with a nine iron. (He was the co-captain of the golf team)....Now I figured I was safe in the library for two reasons. First, I am pretty sure he couldn't read and so I don't think he even knew where the library was. And second, he had the attention span of a two year old mainlining Tele Tubbies, so I figured I just had to wait till Kim (his girlfriend) got tired of him and left him for some "quarterback" and Len would forget about "mashing" me.....Oh yes, I learned to be a creative thinker in school. My life depended on it.
Yup!! School!!!! The memories the memories...
Wow, I have managed to write a ton and I haven't even started my story yet...
If I keep this up, I will need a bigger monitor to hold all the words...
On with the main event.
Anyway, you should be now have enough background for me to start my story. You also have enough background to feel sorry for me. This is just what I was aiming for. Now when you start my story you will already be on my side. This is what is know in the writing world as.....sucking up to the reader so you will buy my bs.
In ninth grade I ended up getting stuck with Lorraine Tealander as my English teacher..(All names have remain the same, as it is pertinent...plus she deserves the recognition)
I did not want her for a number of reasons.
She was probably the oldest active teacher on record. I am not sure, but my own careful estimates placed her somewhere around 536 years old give or take a few. Now being old enough to say you celebrated Columbus day WITH Columbus gives you fair bragging rights and a shot of being, at least an interesting History teacher if not history yourself, but otherwise this is just too old to be teaching 9th graders.
I seriously think she was a willing role model for the Wicked Witch of the West. She was condescending and utterly out of touch with the kids and the curriculum. And she was mean...really..just plain mean..to everyone, but mostly to her students. And the kids HATED her. Heck, I hated her, and I was the poster boy for "the need of tolerance for the differences in others".
She should have retired long before this, but she had tenure, and I believe a deep seated need to destroy young adults self confidence...what a role model!!!
Ms. Tealander, (never married... betcha never would have guessed that) had been hung with a rather mean nickname for most of the years of her teaching career. She kept a hot plate and a teapot always simmering in her office and so she earned the nickname of Teabag or Teahag. No one knew if it was because she drank the tea or because of her resemblance to the bag itself after it had been left out, for oh, say, about 40 days. That was the impetus for the nick name. And she looked the part, believe me. Anyway, I resigned myself to a boring year in english and hoped she wasn't going to be too bad. Ha! We clashed on the first day. I am talking "Mountain Dew, mountain ram head butting, clash of the titans clash.
First day.. she has the entire class come to the board to do penmanship.......ARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!
Something I failed to mention? My handwriting is bad. Ozzy Osbourne with Cerebral Palsy bad.... no...not even that good.... think Ozzy Osbourne with Cerebral Palsy AND Tourettes Syndrome on Acid bad.....No Kidding.....so after about ten minutes at the board she starts sitting down the class until I am the only one standing up there writing with my stubby piece of chalk. over and over and over..Penmanship reflects your commitment to excellencePenmanship reflects your commitment to excellencePenmanship reflects your commitment to excellence. Hell! she had let guys sit down who were writing ..Penmenship reflects your comitmint to exselence!!..Grrrrrrr..then she says....(and NOT in a funny haha way) "Mr Boniface you write like a retard. Maybe I should get you a crayon to write with" (This is true. she actually said that to me in front of the class...) Oh this was going to be a bad... But I am a willow I say to myself, I can bend. I figured she would ease off after the trimester got going............ uhh no..... it didn't...it got worse... The very first day, we were given a paper to write. She insisted all papers were to be written by hand, in ink....Bummer! But, I did as asked, wrote slowly and neatly (for me), and then I turned in my first writing assignment and waited for it to be graded.
Now, in my life, I can count the number of english papers that I wrote, that did not get an A+, on one hand after an industrial accident. I waited and waited and she never gave it back to me. So after class, I knocked on her door and waited..(she always made you wait). I asked, about my paper? She dismissivly pointed to the waste basket. I looked down and there it was. She said "I am giving you an incomplete for that trash. You will have to do better or I'll throw the garbage where it belongs...I am seriously concerned that you might be retarded with penmanship that bad." I was so pissed! I reached down for it and picked it out of the trash.... What the hell? I thought....I grabbed it and she said it didn't matter.. It was an incomplete anyway.
And so began my battle with Teahag!
For the next few weeks I wrote and wrote, turned in a number of papers all in ink and they came back with D's and F's!!!! D's and F"s? I had never gotten one in my life, in any class. I tried negotiating with her. "I understand you want me to work on penmanship and I will continue to do so,
but let me do it in pencil so I can erase my errors"..."NO!"....
"Let me type it and then write it out in ink. I'll do it twice" ... "NO!"......
I was at the end of my rope.
Then it happened... at the halfway mark of the trimester..I got a notice that said I was failing her class!!!!! I freaked !!
It took me a week to tell my mom. She was cool about it asked what was up and I told her. She went down to "have a little talk" with Ms Tealander and my counselor. She came back about an hour later really steamed, but she said it was resolved. "Try to get through the rest of the class if you can. And get someone different next tri."
I go in the next day and the old bat calls me into her office and says she isn't just going to roll over and give me an A no matter what anyone thinks.
And the abuse continues...Arrrgggh
So the Trimester is finally coming to an end and the final for this class is to write an original short story, a minimum of 20 pages, any subject. The final will be worth 30% of the final grade.
I have an idea..
So I go to the drug store and I buy 50 Big Boy tablets. You know, the ones with the lines and stuff from early grade school. And then I buy a bunch of boxes of Crayons....and a sharpener.... I then spent more time writing a short story then I have ever spent in my life.
I concocted this fabulous little allegorical tale filled with characters named Durjeeding Earl Of Bergamot, Doolong, Lipsing...who are all trying to capture and kill the evil, ugly, ancient Queen Infusia. Who was trying to suck the life out of the world......I never had so much fun writing a paper in my life. After it was finished, I spent literally 3 full days writing the damn thing out in purple crayon. I would go 10 or 12 words than sharpen the crayon to a fine point and go again. Of course, because I had all the dotted lines to help, I wrote it in as close to perfect penmanship as I could get it. Because the pages were short, if I screwed one up, it was no big loss to start that page over.
It ran close to 125 pages. It was like a small phone book. It was so sweet, I walked in with it in bag. It was so big, I didn't want her to see it till I turned it in.
she asked for the papers to come forward and i pull mine out and put it on the pile.....she looks down and just about has a stroke when she saw the title.
"T Land"
She just about coughed up blood she was so pissed. she immediately threw it in the garbage, but I was ready for that and walked over to retrieve it. She actually tried to stop me from getting it .. then she ordered me to the Principals office.
The Principal I should tell you, had his double doctorate in English literature, and European History. I sat in that office for an hour before she came down. She demanded that I be expelled for my insolence. Dr. Schnieder asked if she had read the paper..she said she did not and would not. period.
I had all the rest of my papers for the trimester with me. (You could say I had planned ahead) I explained what the trimester had been like for me, and gave him all my papers. He wanted to read the crayon one, so he did, with Ms. Tealander just fuming in the chair next to me. He kept laughing and looking up to see Ms. Tealander hrumphing. When he finished he asked her to read it but she wouldn't. When Dr. Schnieder asked her what she was going to give me for a final grade, she said she was going to fail me. He said that would not do and gave me a B for my final. ( the only B I ever got in english)
He told me years later when he shook my hand during graduation ceremonies, that he thought it was one of the best papers he had ever read and was certainly the most memorable.....
Unfortunately, he kept my manuscript. He said it was the price I had to pay for him stepping in and saving my ass. I would love to have it, and maybe some day I'll find him and ask if he still has it and if would he consider giving it back. (Last I heard he had left administration and was back teaching E Lit at an Ivy League school.
But it's ok, my family often tells the story of me sitting at the dining room table for 3 days writing my short story in purple crayon and that is good enough for me. And now I have told all of you.
I know I know.....Normally if you saw this heading, you would say to yourself....this post can't be more than 2 or 3 words long...
But No!!!
This is my blog and that means long, long, long, posts.....Bwaaahahahahaaaaaa.
I saw this great idea for a post over at mopsa's place..(By the way....this is place is awesome.) And, you will find Everything from pickles to batteries here.
She did a killer riff on James Lipton and Inside the Actors Studio which I loved...I went a little nuts and did one of my own on GWB on her site. I am going to repost it here, cause it didn't suck when I was done.
Imagine you are sitting down to watch Inside the Actors Studio.....George W Bush is the guest. Lipton is near the end of the show and doing his 10 Questions.
Lipton: What is your favorite word?
George W. Bush: mmmmm.....
Lipton:...your favorite word George...
George W. Bush:......uhhhhh
Lipton:...George...a word...any favorite word.....
George W. Bush:summblimbumbubablle
Lipton: .. ok, ...What is your least favorite word?
George W. Bush: The Axis of evil
Lipton: ......one word George.....
George W. Bush: ........The
Lipton: ......uh.. George.....
George W. Bush: Oh... I got it...Evildoers
Lipton: ......one wor.....oh fuckit never mind.......What turns you on?
George W. Bush: teeheeheeheehee...
Lipton: Seriously George, we're all adults here...What turns you on?
George W. Bush: teeheeheeheehee...
Lipton: George...
George W. Bush: teehee..ok, fucking...
Lipton: fucking?
George W. Bush:OK, fucking over US citizens ..teeheee
Lipton: Hmmmm. What turns you off?
George W. Bush: When that damn Colin Powell keeps pulling my head outa my ass.....it hurts....a lot.....especially after the 40th time or so...my ears get sore from gettin caught.
Lipton.Yes I can just imagine... What is the sound or noise that you love?
George W. Bush: Farting into the dumbwaiter at Camp David..If I really cut one, it rings the metal thingy on the thingy for almost a minute...mommy hates it when I do that..but daddy laughs almost as much as me.
Lipton:Yah...ok, What sound or noise do you hate?
George W. Bush: Either my head/ass popping noise thingy..or Chaney's damn pacemaker alarm...ring, ring, ring, ring, all the freaking time....I keep wanting to turn it off as a practical joke on Dick, (heehee )but daddy says "no no then we'd really be in deep doo doo"... (but I'm gonna someday... and nobody's gonna stop me either, cause I'm the President of the ...something ..something Untitled Stakes or something.... I dunno but I'm it... and that means I can do what I want to......the constitooshun sez so . (Rummy says so too and he scares everybody including daddy.....and if I wanna scare Rummy I still have Ashcroft..)
Lipton:What is your favorite curse word?
George W. Bush: Book!
Lipton: What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
George W. Bush: President!
Lipton:No...OTHER than your own.
George W. Bush: President!
Lipton:No...something OTHER ......You know, Something you would like to do but have not.
George W. Bush: President!
Lipton:DAMNIT!!! Something OTHER ...SomethingOTHER !! Think!!! Something you would like to do but ........
George W. Bush:Ohhhhh.......I get it....that Condi is a hottie, I'd like to do her! She's black you know, but she is a Christian woman so it's ok, God won't be mad....of course Trent Lott will be pissed...(he wants to nail her too!! don't tell anybody...especially his cunstichu ..constituuenz....constichuuwents...you know, the KKK.)
Lipton:What profession would you not like to try?
George W. Bush: Hey! No trying to pull a fast one over on old W..Thought you would catch me with the old " trick word question huh?? I'm to smart for that....not like to try?....jeez do you think I'm stuupyd? Not like to try, means to not, not do it.... and by not, not doing it what you really mean, is to don't not don't do it.....Hah! I win.....next question...
Lipton:Finally, if heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
George W. Bush: The Lord God and Holy One already speaks to me every day... I don't gotta die for him to tell me to crush the fucking ragheads and infidels ....I know his will. And I am righteous... for Rath is the....
Lipton:That's all for this week...tune in next week, we have best actress Oscar nominee Brittany Spears...
George W. Bush:..for I am vengence and...holy hubba shit.... I wanna be here when she's on. She's way hotter than Condi....I wanna launch my missile up her....
Lipton:........Good Night
I don't think I have managed to build enough suspense. I know I promised the 2nd Crayon story this week, but this has been a bodatiously long week (and day), and so I will make that my excuse for not doing it tonight either. But, I say keep checking in every few minutes or so till I do get the time......could be a day could be a week, keep checking.. ;-) You will want to stay tuned for my best...(and longest) story yet!!!!
I promised this story over the weekend.
But, it is already 3 o'clock in the freakin AM, and I have to get up in 3 hours. I didn't sleep at all last night, and I am tired, so you are just going to have to wait for it.......(this is what is known as building suspense).....
I sang at a funeral today.....Merilee was 13 and died of cancer. I knew her a little. We would chat occasionaly when she was in the youth choir, and I cast her for a part in a musical I directed in December 2001. After I offered her the part, she volunteered that she had cancer and had just gone into remisssion for the third time, but not to worry cause she was not going anywhere for a long, long time....
She later told me she really wanted to be a singer when she grew up. She never got to try, her parents called me on Tuesday and asked if I would sing at the funeral.
At the risk of alienating everyone that doesn't know me, I will tell you that I love to sing at funerals.
No, I am not morbid. Nor goth, maudlin or just an uncaring jerk, or any of the other dark or weird things that might explain away my love of funerals.
Well, maybe love is the wrong word. Appreciate in the deepest way possible, might be better.
In my heart there are only 2 things that can truly ameliorate the emotions that you experience when something terrible happens to someone you loved. And they are love and music. Now before you get all jumping up and down, and calling me an idiot for trying to explicate all of your, or someone else's human emotions to some kind of black and white pavlovian switch.... don't.
Please notice I said in MY heart.
For me, the soul and love in music, can wash us in some kind of healing human compassion. Our reactions to music and love are visceral and true. I feel that with music, we can somehow touch and connect with that part of us that is communal and spiritual. A simple melody can soothe the anguished, and the awesome power of it can draw the tears from your heart. It exposes us to our human honesty.
I love funerals because I can feel the spirit that is present in all of us.
I am not talking about what we think of as religion exactly, I am speaking of our sympathetic human-ness. To be able to take part in that with people when they are hurting, is so powerful and gratifying to me.
She is survived by her Mom and Dad and two older sisters, Ashley, 15 and Chandra, 18. She died after a long struggle.
As I stood at the foot of the coffin and looked down on her, It suddenly dawned on me that I knew something very profound about Merilee. You could tell by how frail and tiny she looked in her coffin, she had, very clearly used up every little bit of herself. Just to try to stay here as long as she possibly could, in this world with the people that loved her and that she loved....
I helped say goodbye to Merilee, by singing Ave Maria and The Lord's Prayer. Don't worry, you will still be around for a long, long time. In all my world's of singing, the one I sang in today means more to me than anything.
If you ever put a forkfull of Chicken Vindaloo into your mouth, (or ANY super spicy dish for that matter, as it now appears I am doing some kind of blogger PSA) and then something really funny happens, whatever you do DON'T laugh and inhale it quickly up your nose .......not unless you want to personally re-enact that scene near the end of Raiders of the Lost Arc, when the Nazi guy looks into the Arc....you know the scene.......believe me, it is NOT BEAUUUUTEEEEFUUUULL.