Comfortably Numb

 I was taking Kitty to the store the other day. After we got back in the car with our groceries, I turned on the radio. The song "Comfortably Numb" was on. "Mom, is this Pink Floyd?" Kitty asked. "It sure is!" I replied enthusiastically. "Cool."

I love Pink Floyd. I'm rather late to the party, as I've only been a major fan for four or five years. I used to be afraid of their music because people said it was 'head music', and I knew that meant drug music. I thought if I listened to it: I would do drugs, so I didn't listen. Yep: another one of my irrational fears. But I digress...

As we were driving home to that song, I started thinking about the past almost two years. I thought about things that had happened, and how I reacted to them. I thought about a couple of battles I still have to face. And as I thought about all of these things, it hit me: I have become 'comfortably numb'.

By this I mean usually when situations happen, you have a fight or flight reaction to them. Or you get emotional about them: cry, scream, throw yourself around the room or something. But I seem to have stopped doing any of that. What I do is internalize and handle the situation with no real feeling behind it: like a robot. Comfortably numb.

I am not saying this is a good thing. My girls tell me to let them in, tell them my feelings, talk about stuff but I don't want to. I tell them that it's my personal business and my personal feelings and I don't have to share them with anybody. Then they get mad and remind me that internalizing stuff isn't good for your health. You think I don't know that? But I can't just spew forth everything I'm feeling, because to me that's a sign of weakness. And I've had to be strong for so long by myself, that weakness is not an option for me.

I know that Pink Floyd is talking about a different kind of numbness, but I can identify. Only it isn't the good feeling like I'm sure they are speaking of. Drugs have never been an option. I just power through.

I'm listening to the song as I write this. How could I have ever been afraid of their music? The lyrics certainly let you know that this is a drug song, but the song isn't telling me to medicate myself. Seriously: I was a weird kid. Yet a drug-free kid!

Anyhoo, I know that I need to get out of this numbness. Sounds like a job for prayer. I have a wonderful friend who prays with me, and for me. Because at some point I want and need to join the world of the 'feeling' again. Amen.

Here is a painting that Kitty did for a friend, but they never picked it up. For some reason I love this picture, even though it is sad. But sometimes this perfectly depicts how I feel.

Jamie, I Hardly Knew Ye

 Here's the one thing I actually like about Facebook: it can connect you with people you might otherwise have never known. That's what happened with me and James Oliver Jr.

He actually found me after my sister Robin died. Not only was he once the family's paperboy, he went to school with Robin. Then in later years he was good friends with Clancy. But I never knew him.

Anyhoo, once we became FB friends, I'd scope out his page to see what he was like. He was a big guy, bald, long beard, loved heavy metal music and motorcycles, sang, played guitar, loved his job, camped and fished. Wow, I thought: he keeps busy! 

Jamie was a devoted family man. You know I had to go through his pictures! He loved his wife, their shared kids, and his little grandson. He had so many true friends and he  lived and loved life to the fullest.

And then the enemy showed up. Cancer. Need I say more? 

Jamie fought the good fight. I prayed for him, had my church pray for him and wanted so much for him to have more time. During this time, he never stopped smiling, never stopped loving, and continued to work at the job he loved so much. He was able to keep people up-to-date on how he was doing. And he would even take time out to message me, or read my blog, or like something of mine on FB. And at the end of the day: he didn't even know me! But that's how we got to be friends.

Clancy isn't on FB so I'd keep him apprised of Jamie's doings. And now I have to tell him that Jamie passed away. What a major bummer...We will go to his service next month.

I wish I'd had more time to get to know Jamie and his wife Kathy through more than just FB. But I love what I did get to know about them.

Here is Jamie. And by the way: I found out from Clancy that I'm the only one that called him Jamie, ha ha. Everyone else called him James or Jim. But Jamie didn't mind!

I'm pretty sure that my sister was in the receiving line when Jamie arrived in Heaven. My friend, you were well loved and will truly be missed. I'm a little envious of the people who really knew you in life, but I'm happy that I got to know a little piece of you.

Oh, and one more thing:

FUCK CANCER.

A Crazy Day in Football

 

We love football in my house. Brie’s favorite team is the Steelers, my favorite team is the Raiders and Kitty loves the Ravens (probably because her sister hates them). Regardless, Sundays are given over to watching whatever games are on, as usually ours aren’t televised unless they are either a) playing a New York team; or b) ahead in the rankings.

So yesterday we started out with the Packers playing the Bengals. And here’s where the craziness began. We had no skin in this game as we are not Packers fans (Aaron Rodgers: please lose the man-bun) nor are we Bengals fans (have we ever watched one of their games?) but this one was the lesser of two evils as no one wanted to watch the Dolphins-Bucs game (no one is a Brady fan).

Getting back to the Packers – Bengals: I’m not sure what was going on with their kickers, Was it windy? Was the field tilted? But both teams missed three: count’em, THREE, field goal attempts. In a row! The game actually went into OT and that is usually too stressful for me, but Brie wanted to watch and root for the Bengals. Packers had first ups, so to speak. And the goal was to just get close enough to score a field goal to win. The offensive line did their job, then here comes the kicker. He was 4 inches from the goal post and it went up: only to hit the goal post and bounce out. Zoink! For the 3^rd time that game! We were excited because now the Bengals just had to get in field goal position and kick a field goal. The offense did their part, they were a foot from the goal posts, the ball went up: and zoink: it hit the goal post and bounced out for the 3^rd time that game! The camera panned to the kicker and he and a few team mates were high fiving and jumping up and down. I was like, “He’s going to feel real dumb in a few seconds.” I was right: that mood changed when they realized it was no goal. I’m sure the coach had some choice words for when they went to the locker room! Then the Packers got the ball again and this time were able to make the goal. So Man-bun’s team won. I really dislike overtime!

The next game was the Giants – Cowboys game. We had to root for the Giants because Brie’s boyfriend loves the Giants. Well I don’t know how he felt about them after they lost to the Cowboys, but I digress. Sorry!

But back to crazy: the late game was the Bills – Chiefs game. We are women, so we root for the Chiefs because hellooo Mahomes and Kelce! Oh, and they’re a good team too. 😁Anyhoo, it wasn’t so much the game, per se, as what happened during the game. When halftime rolled around, a storm had blown in and they emptied the stadium (to the best of their ability) because it was torrential rain and lightning, I believe. So instead of the normal 12-minute half-time, it was an hour. So the commentators had a lot of time to fill. And what did they fill it with? Many showings of the Man-bun - Bengals field goal debacles. Zoink! But then they showed some other crazy stuff. Like the Lions new coach crying at his press conference because the Lions are 0-5 this season. And it’s a new quarterback trying to pull the team together. I felt so bad for him: that I have decided that once again I have to adopt the Detroit Lions until they start winning games consistently. I did it before when they couldn’t win a game to save their lives, and they came back stronger. So I’ll do it again!

And then they told this story about how someone had leaked footage of the Jaguars coach getting a lap dance from some young twenty-something woman. I wanted to see the footage of his wife throat punching him, but no one had that! Now comes the press conference where he apologizes to everyone for his lapse in judgment. Mm hmm…wonder how many of those he’s had over the years.

But the craziest story they told was from info from the Bills locker room. They were upset because their visitor locker room was so small and hot, they had to periodically go out into the hallway for air. They were also upset because there was too much peanut butter, and not enough jelly on the sandwiches they were given. They said it was like 70% peanut butter and only 30% jelly. AND there was no almond butter!! Talk about a bunch of divas with first-world problems! Be thankful you had something to eat that included protein. However, the good news was the oranges were “fire”. 😒Then the commentators were wondering what, exactly, was the correct peanut butter to jelly ratio on a sandwich. Seriously: I can’t make this stuff up!

There you have it. Crazy! The Colts – Ravens play tonight. Go Ravens! I can’t wait to see if any craziness ensues for these teams! But if any does: it will be hard to beat yesterday.

On a side note: can you believe that the Cardinals are the only undefeated team in the NFL? The Jaguars are also 0-5, lap dances notwithstanding. It’s going to be a very interesting season!

Squinky in the Morning

 So...right now I have quite a bit going on. Nothing bad, but also nothing I've talked about yet. And it's something that keeps me up at night, but not in a bad way.

Brie also has a couple of things going on. Something she wants to talk about all the time. That's the difference between her and I: I keep it internal, while she lets it all out.

Anyhoo, her situation has her a little tense. I try to help, but there's only so much I can do. And then she gets squinky and frustrated and then we might have words or stop speaking altogether because she's mad at me. Squinky!.

This morning was a squinky time. We were getting ready for work, and I didn't have any fruit. Then I remembered I had  a few frozen grapes in the freezer. I would take them! So I got a Ziploc bag, opened the freezer, took out the bowl only to discover there were only six grapes in there. Oh well: better than nothing and I'd go to the store later.

Then I heard Brie from the dining room. "I don't have anything for snack today. Hey, what are you doing?" She came into the kitchen. "I'm packing up the last of the grapes." "But I didn't have any!" "Brie, these grapes have been here for four days, you knew they were here and there are only six." "Oh great: now I have nothing!" (even though I had told her last night that we had apple slices. But I digress...)

Inside, I knew the issue wasn't the grapes. But I stupidly said, "Then you take them." "No you already have them. I'll just have nothing." "Brie, there are only six but please take them." "No!" and she headed out of the kitchen.

I went after her, Ziploc bag in hand. "Just take them!" "No!" We got to the living room and I threw them into her workbag. "Just take them!" She took them out. "No just forget it!"  She put the bag back in my hand, and I was well over it by now. "Fine!" I mustered up my dignity, turned and went to step smartly away.

However, in my midst of righteous indignation, I failed to notice the Puffs tissue box on the floor. I smartly stepped on it, went to walk, didn't realize it was stuck to my foot, the slippery box slid on the floor, I did a turn, started to fall, reached for the small gray chair by my couch, only got part of it, did another pirouette and landed sideways on part of the chair.

How Brie kept from howling with laughter at this, I have no idea. "Are you okay?" she asked. As I got up and felt the pain in my left knee I said, "Yes I'm fine." "Enjoy your grapes." And she left after saying a half-hearted "love you".

So as I hobbled around, gathering up my purse, work bag and Rocky Mountain tumbler, I decided two things. 1) Brie is a hater when she's squinky; and 2) the next time she wants frozen grapes she can make them herself!

By the way: here's what we do with the grapes to make them fight-over worthy:

Wash the grapes. Pat them dry. Put them in a bowl. Sprinkle your favorite flavor of dry Jello over them. Roll them around so they're covered. Throw them in the freezer for an hour or two. Delicious!! Enjoy!

Behind the Video - Addictive

 I'm sure that most of you have never heard of this song by a beautiful black woman called Truth Hurts.  I had never heard of her until I saw this video on MTV one day. The song was released in 2002 as the lead single from her debut album entitled Truthfully Speaking. She's singing about her gangster boyfriend and how good their connection/sex life is and how she understands when she has to wait for him to show up due to the nature of his "work" (you know, drug dealing and what not) but it's worth it. Here are a few of the lyrics, and I get no money for this, I own no rights, but it lets you know what you need to:

"He breaks me down, he builds me up, He fills my cup, I like it rough. We fuss, we brawl, we rise, we fall. He comes in late, but it's ok. He do, I do, he knows the rules. He takes care of home, though he's not alone. I'm on his knee, he keeps me clean; and gives me things, he makes me scream."

I really liked the song, even though I'm naive and don't understand all of that kind of talk, haha. But it was the video itself that had me absolutely riveted. The song has a nice R&B / hip hop rhythm with some middle Eastern tones, so it already wasn't  your typical dance song. The video opens with her laying in a bed, and then quickly moves to lovely women with henna tattoos, belly-dancing.

Let's stop here for a minute. If you know me at all, you know that the minute I saw this I had to immediately get up and try to belly-dance. And I'm sure we all know what happened: or if you don't just ask Brie. I'm sure she's still laughing. But I digress...

So it turns out that the ladies aren't dancing in her bedroom, but in what turns out to be a club. A club with a bedroom for her and her man, apparently. So she's singing and belly-dancing with her friends, and then the camera pans to this man coming down a set of stairs but you don't see his face yet. And then I hear Brie gasp. "Mom, it's dad!"

I'm sure I broke the sound barrier getting to the TV where the camera zoomed in on this good looking black gentleman who started rapping: 

"Thinking of a master plan, you know anything you need baby ask your man. You was there from a  half a gram, now it's kilos to c-notes and high fashion brands. We ball like we own the world, your only concern is you my only girl. And when we're speaking in tongues, breathin' hard when I'm squeezin' your lungs; keep it strong, but I gotta hit the streets with I'm done..."

It was my was-band Raymond! And he was a famous rapper now? My head immediately started spinning with the thoughts of how fast I was going to get my 20 years' worth of child support! The dollar signs were lighting up in my eyes...

But then I took a closer look. Oh crap: it wasn't the was-band at all: it was Rakim, who is an actual rapper! So it must be true that everyone has a twin because I honestly thought it was my ex. Ugh!

"It's (effed) up but you never complain, you just pray I don't get killed when I hit the hood. Just another hundred mill and I'm a quit for good. Just me and you high off sex I'm twisted: you OG'd and you OD addicted." 

Well he sounded and looked like Raymond. Only clean and healthy and rich. Brie said, "Wow, I really thought that was dad. He looks just like him!"

"Yeah but sadly it isn't your father so no back child support, as usual!" I thought to myself that if Rakim was single, maybe our paths would cross someday. And I wouldn't even compare him to the was-band! 

Anyhoo, I haven't met Rakim yet. I still really like the video because Rakim is easy on the eyes and the dancing is mesmerizing, even though I quickly learned that belly-dancing isn't my forte. But it was fun to entertain Brie while I tried! And just for the record: she was no expert either! 😄

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

 I had a dream last night that really resonated with me yet was bittersweet. It might have been a “visit”, but regardless I wanted to share it with you while it’s still fresh.

In this dream my good friend Tom Finch came to visit me at Marie’s house. I was so glad to see him! Judging by his hair, it should have been the 70’s, but based on circumstances I know the timeframe was between late 2004 and Fall of 2015. We spent time catching up, and then he took a seat at the piano.

Tom, even in high school, was a very accomplished pianist. In the dream I sat on the piano bench next to him and he said, “Let’s play a duet.” “Oh no,” I demurred, “you know I only took lessons for a couple of years.” “Coward!” he teased. “Then let’s get a book out and play.” At this point, Marie, Clancy, Robin and a couple of relatives were sitting in the living room watching us.

Tom and I looked in the piano bench where the music books were kept: but there weren’t any. I rummaged around on top of the piano but was only able to find a music book entitled “The Star-Spangled Banner” which was full of patriotic songs. We took a pass on that. Another couple of books were old and tattered so they were no good to us. I finally said to him, “Play something from memory.” “Like what?”  I didn’t even have to think about it. “Play ‘Morning Has Broken’.”

Clancy had his radio going so I told him to turn it off while Tom played; and he did.

When we were in high school, one day Tom really did stop by to visit. He met Marie, who loved the piano, and he sat down and played ‘Morning Has Broken’ for her. As a teen girl I was already a little in love with him, but that sealed the deal for me. But alas: we were never more than good friends…

Getting back to the dream: as he played Marie was watching and smiling, the other relatives were enjoying the performance and Robin was smiling. Then I realized that Tom was playing my old piano, which Marie and Robin had traded in years ago for Robin’s new piano. My father wasn’t there as he had died in 2004. And if there were no piano books anywhere: Robin was gone too because she always had the piano bench stuffed with music books, the top of the piano held books and there were always 2 or 3 on the music stand. She passed away in 2015 yet she showed up smiling in my dream.

So there you have it. I woke up with that bittersweet feeling in my heart because of the people I miss, but it’s always good to “see” Robin! When I saw Tom at a reunion a few years ago, I asked him if he still played. Sadly, he has arthritis and doesn’t play anymore. What a shame because he was concert-good. But at least he can still play in my dreams, and I’m grateful for that.

Thanks Burtie!

 I have a co-worker that I have nicknamed Burtie. I only call her that in emails, and no one else calls her that. But it seemed like a fitting nickname to me, so I'm going with it!

Anyhoo, the other day Burtie and I were chatting for a few minutes about our mothers, and how saintly they thought they were. "One time when I was maybe five," I began, "my parents took us to the store with them. When we got back to the car, I showed Marie a package of life savers." "Where did you get that?" she asked me. "From the store," Of course this did not sit well with her at all since it wasn't paid for. "That is stealing," she admonished, "and we don't do that." "I'm sorry," I said, feeling terrible. "That's okay," Marie said. "Just don't do it again. Give those to me." I did, and she proceeded to eat them in front of us kids. "Let that be a lesson to you," she concluded. Um...what was the lesson? Wait until your parent isn't around and then eat your stolen goods?

Burtie laughed. "That's a good one! But I bet I can top that;" She then told her story:

"When I was around three or four, my saintly mother took us to the store with her. She expected all of her children to be pious and saintly like she was but we were kids. So we went through the store and she got the items we needed and then went back to the car. Unbeknownst to us, my brother had taken some candy from the store and was eating it like there was no tomorrow. But my mother noticed and said, "What are you doing?" When my brother didn't say anything she made us all get out of the car and she marched us back into the store. She explained to the manager what had happened and he said, "Oh it's okay, it's kids being kids." "Oh?" my mother said. "When he comes back here in 15 years and steals from you, are you still going to say that?" The manager was nonplussed at that. "I want  you to punish him so he never steals again." The manager said, "What do you want me to do?" And my mother said in a low, menacing voice, "I want you to call the police."

"Well you wouldn't think something like that would happen, but by now the manager was afraid of my mother, and rightfully so! So believe it or not: the police were called in to scare my brother straight. And at the end of it all the store actually posted my brother's picture on the wall and it said, "If you see this person keep an eye on him. He's a thief."

I was aghast. "Are you kidding me??"

"Nope! My mother meant business! And it scared me so much: I've never to this day EVER stolen anything. We went into that Barber's Market almost every day and there was my little brother's picture. It was so embarrassing!"

I laughed and laughed. "That is awesome! Your mother is a gangster!"

"Yes she is!"

I just loved that story. Thanks Burtie for letting me tell it!