After waiting for the end of the world it was Solisticemas

I think I did feel some stillness in the dark night, some alcohol-fueled joy.  The puppet show was wonderful as always.  But these holidaze felt heavy.  The oceans are melting, overflowing, drying-up and polluted. 

Maybe it was all the treats I ate.  Maybe it's that too many are broke and broken, or the general tension I feel when forces square off rather than join together.  I forgot and left behind things, but I was early enough to go back for what was necessary.   I shopped too much, but gave some gifts that seemed well-received.

My two sons were brotherly.  I had a chance to be motherly.  I also got to be the cool Aunt while not officially mourning my two cool Aunts who left the world this year.  My dog is dying, maybe that is where the blue mood comes from.

Surprised that this article resonated with me, but I guess I like Maureen Dowd better than Jack Bogdanski.

Today there is a Kwanzaa celebration in City Hall.  Full moon tomorrow.

It's hard not to miss things

Watching History Detectives last night, I remembered that is is Zappadan.

I respect Frank Zappa.  But he's not as easy to love as Michael Moore.



And there is no one song of his that I like to listen to over and over like with some singer songwriters.  This old favorite came to mind during these dark days:



 Frank Zappa is more than a singer songwriter though.



I think he's just over my head.



Maybe someday I'll learn.  I do believe you can teach old dogs new tricks.  I like seeing live musicians and trying to match what I hear with what I see.  Sunday night I think one song was called Mercy.  Here is a new mercy song I found searching.    

I won something

On the Eighth Night of Hanukkah, I went to see Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Clinton Street Theater.  I was marked a V for virgin since I hadn't been to see the show at that theater in more than 6 months.  I'm not sure if I ever saw the show at the theater.  I know I saw it once in high school or college, but don't recall where.

Before the movie there was fun and games including making the virgins do silly things.  I was in a bad dancing contest and the audience clap-o-meter showed that I clearly beat all of the other dancers.  I started by doing the pony that got me ridiculed by the older girl in kindergarten and ended by losing my glasses on the floor.

There was so much heckling during the movie--references to all sorts of geek culture that wasn't even around the first time I saw Rocky Horror--that I couldn't always follow the movie.  I don't know why Frank N Furter killed Meat Loaf and raped those kids.

The show was a benefit for a dead girl's dad.  The crew there was like a family.

Greasy

More than halfway through Hanukkah, I've almost had my fill of fried foods, which is surprising.  My long lost friend and her bright girls left things behind after our latke dinner, hopefully meaning that they'd like to return. 

I surprised myself at how much I was expecting something to happen 12/12/12. I'd love a fresh start.  But the Sandy relief concert felt outdated.  Lots of rockers of old age and Alicia Keys singing about cell phones.

I found out today that Alyson likes Zazen.  A successful gift is always gratifying.

Satsumas are refreshing, round citrus is a solsticey food.  Onward.

Test Drive

In a bit of thinking ahead, I've been planning what my next year's blog theme will be.  I'm thinking birthdays--I will try to write an entry for friends and family's birthdays, maybe other people too.  Well today is my ex-husband's 50th birthday. 

I found out that he shares the day with a writer/filmmaker I've been interested in over the past year or so.  This is what I wrote to that person who has been trying to fund a Kickstarter campaign:

Happy Birthday. 

It is funny to me that you have the same birthday as my ex-husband.  I thought that he would be a good investor for your movie, but since I divorced him, he's even less interested in hearing my ideas.  I left him a voicemail greeting. He is 50 today.  I feel slightly guilty that I didn't stay with him to provide the type of 50th birthday celebration that some people get.  It would have been difficult to pull off such a thing happily for him.  It seemed easier to me to stop trying.  Instead I'm on a committee to organize a 65th birthday party fundraiser for the Northwest Workers Justice Project. 

I don't like how everything ends up to be about raising money--helping low-wage immigrant workers, making art, movies.   People who have money can think about other things.  But getting money is the first step. We all have to sell something we have if we want to be able to buy something we want.   I don't like to admit it, because it seems almost like admitting that Republicans are right and everyone should just focus on personal acquisition of wealth. I have to remind myself that it could be that Marx was right instead.  Or maybe Buddha.  If I free myself from wanting things then I don't have to try to raise money.  You seem to have a good new model--transparent supportive community product production.

I hope you have good fortune and the money you need to live the life you'll be proud of at 65.

Gobble Gobble

There was a rainbow this morning over the river and into the clouds as I rode my new old bike downtown to work.  The ride across the bridge is usually my best time of the day.  At the time I was thinking about lesbians.

Here is a cool Bruce Springsteen video.  Going to see Jonathan Richman for the umpteenth time motivated me to see El Hefe for the first.



Ok there were no Thanksgiving catastrophes sitting across the table from Sandy Lee. I kind of put my foot in my mouth with her husband during the gravy making.  Our dining conversation broke down over a disagreement about natural vs. man-made Christmas trees.  It is so difficult for the most important dinner of the year to live up to expectations.

There was the creamiest green bean cassarole in the largest crock pot.  Gnarly Head merlot.  A cow family in the barn and a ham named Donald.

I brought home the tea set but no leftovers. 

Since then, in addition to seeing East Coast singer-songwriters over 60 with dark curly hair, I have spent enough money to feed a village in Africa on gifts for my family and friends, caught up on some TV, and started a book (reading not writing). 

Veteran's Day and Diwali

It is sad that they changed Armistice Day to Veteran's Day.

My hero this year is Bradley Manning.  http://www.democracynow.org/seo/2012/11/14/as_bradley_manning_offers_guilty_plea

It seems like the worst people sometimes get away with the most and the best are persecuted.

You can't believe what you read though.  Attempts to correct mistakes in the newspaper are met with shrugs, as if anyone thought they were objective reporters of what they believed to be true.  At least wikipedia can be fact-checked.

We need festivals of lights to combat the darkness that comes year after year.  We need mourning rituals to comfort each generation of children who lose their parents and have to acknowledge their own aging and mortality and the tragic unlucky parents who confront the knowledge that if there is a God, he is not always good, when they are the ones to say goodbye to their babies.  We need peacemakers and truth-tellers to sacrifice their comfort over and over to fight the people who lie and make war in order to grab some more comfort for themselves at the expense of others.

Why is it so hard to choose love over fear when no one gets out alive?