Behind the Music: Wives and Lovers

 I'm not even sure how I happened across this old song. But as I was listening to it, I was laughing and also horrified at the lyrics. It was written in 1963, and originally sung by Jack Jones. It even won a Grammy in 1964! The song came about when Burt Bacharach and Hal David were asked to write a song with the title "Wives and Lovers" with the theme being marital infidelity. It was a promotional tie-in for the 1963 film Wives and Lovers. The song wasn't in the film but was intended to promote the film; and that made it an "exploitation song".

Anyhoo,  if Burt Bacharach and Hal David were to write something like this today: female villagers would chase them with torches!

I vaguely remembered this song from when I worked at an oldies station and thought it was crazy. However, if you watched TV shows or movies from this era, you'll realize that it is actually how things were. I do not own any rights to this song and am making no money from using the lyrics. But seriously: these need to be discussed.

"Hey, little girl, 

Comb your hair, fix your make-up

Soon, he will open the door.

Don't think because there's a ring on your finger

You needn't try any more."

Oh if only you could see my face 😠...So apparently, when it's time for hubby to come home from work, you'd better stop what you're doing to fix  your face and hair so he doesn't see what he actually married. And who are you calling 'little girl'?

"For wives should always be lovers too

Run to his arms the  moment he comes home to you

I'm warning you."

So now it seems that being a wife isn't good enough. And run to his arms when he gets home? Run to him and knock him over as you run out the door!

"Day after day

There are girls at the office

And men will always be men.

Don't send him off with your hair still in curlers

You may not see him again."

Oh I'll see him again. In court, when I take him for everything he has! Now you have to get up extra early and do your hair to compete with the trolls at his office??? They have all the time in the world because they're not up at 5 a.m. And what's he doing for me? Men will always be men you say? Yep: until you kick him in the biscuits!

"Hey, little girl

Better wear something pretty

Something you'd wear to go to the city

And dim all the lights

Pour the wine, start the music

Time to get ready for love."

I'm okay with wearing something nice instead of a housecoat and slippers. But if you're not taking me to the city, I'm not breaking out my Michael Kors dress. And if I'm dimming the lights, you won't get a good look at what I'm wearing anyway. As for pouring the wine: you don't think I've already been drinking all day because of what I have to do to keep you? Start the music? How about if I start the car and go looking like you do in the office? Time to get ready for love. It's time to find someone to appreciate me as I am, or at least who will do the same for me.

Yes I know times were different back then; and this was the norm for women. Ever notice in those old movies and TV shows how they always looked perfect? The women wore dresses and high heels and pearls with perfect hairdos, whether they were doing housework or serving tea to their lady friends. God bless them! I'm just glad I'm in this era because that's a lot of work. Just hoping it was worth it! I think I'm going to write an answer song to this called "Husbands and Lovers". After all: turnabout is fair play! 

Not Enough Time

 I found out at church yesterday that my good friend, and brother in Christ, Larry Ball, passed away Saturday. It was like a punch to the gut. I knew his health had been fragile for a while, but I thought I'd have him for more than two years...

I met Larry and his wife at our church after they had attended a funeral service for a relative who passed away. They came for the service and repast, and then continued to come. Except when they were wintering in Louisiana 😊 Back in BC (before covid) we would do a little meet and greet before service started so you could say hi and shake people's hands. 

Larry was a big, gentle giant of a man. I remember shaking hands with him for the first time and his hand more than engulfed mine. He had a smile as big as his heart. "How are you today, Miss?" Extra points for not calling me ma'am! His smile was contagious and reached his eyes. Every Sunday after that I always made a beeline for him because he had the Spirit of Christ emanating from him. He was a good Christian man who loved to serve the Lord, and brought that from his home church to our church. I'm so glad!

His wife was one of the best singers our church had ever had, and I liked sitting in front of them so I could hear her sing the hymns with her amazing voice. Then covid hit and they had to take proper precautions because they were over 65 and for his health reasons. So I missed them for awhile!

However, he and I became Facebook friends. I loved whenever he would send me a message or comment on a post, because he always called me 'gal' and would say, "love you sister!" which is more than my siblings say to me, ha ha. And I would reply, "love you brother!" He always read my blog (and never judged!) when it posted to Facebook. What a sweetheart he was 💓

He had been in the hospital, then rehab and was finally able to come home. I thought he was doing better when I found out he was home, and back on FB. But alas: on Saturday God told him, "Well done, my good and faithful servant," and took him peacefully home.

The day before he died the pastor was talking to him. Larry said, "I'm ready to be with the Savior, but I think He might have a little more for me to do here." I guess it was to spend one more day loving his family.

I'm going to miss my big teddy bear of a friend. That smile and the twinkle in his eyes. Two years of friendship definitely wasn't enough. But the good news is: one day I will see him again and we can take up right where we left off! Love you brother 💛

Even Me

 When you hear that someone has committed suicide, do you think, "Why? Suicide is the permanent solution to a temporary problem." I know that I do. But what most people don't know is that even I tried that once.

It was a lifetime ago, when I was married to the was-band (former husband). As you know, I don't talk about my failed marriage because what's the point? I have always been a strong person, but there was a time when this marriage almost broke me.

I remember that day with such clarity...I was on my knees in the bedroom crying because I saw no way out of my situation. I had prayed but couldn't hear God's voice. We had a very sharp butcher knife and I held it in my right hand. Even though my own belief is that suicide is a sin, I was unable to live the life that I was anymore. There was too much pain; and thinking about living another day was excruciating. So I took the knife, held out my left arm, and slashed my left wrist.

Nothing happened. I looked at the knife, felt the blade: yep, it was the correct butcher knife. I tried again, slashing vertically...

And again...nothing. Then I took the knife and started sawing at the vein. It's hard to explain but it was like there was a film or something over my wrist. I threw the knife. "Are you kidding me!?" I yelled. "Just let me do this!" But as you can tell, God had other ideas. 

As I look back over the years, I can see reasons why God spared me. He knew that others would need me to be around for them: most especially Kitty and Brie. Friends that went through difficult times and needed me for a shoulder or a laugh. My family when my father died. My family again when Robin died. And Marie...

Even if you can't see beyond your own pain, God can. If you don't believe in God talk to me: I can tell you about a whole lot of miracles that only He could have made happen. And when you get help, and look back, you'll see that the problem was temporary. And like me: I hope you'll be glad that you didn't take the permanent solution.

Amen.

The Other "Family"

 Kitty thinks we are nuts. However, Brie and I have another family.

Many, many years ago, to amuse Brie, I would make up stories featuring her teddy bear Cocoa. This bear is now 39 years old, so he's been around since she was a baby. Anyhoo, Cocoa was her best friend and I would make him "come to life", and he would talk to her and keep her entertained.

As time marched on, we acquired more magical stuffed animals that would also come to life, and they became part of our extended family. Cocoa's best friend was Sherwood, a smart, fancy little bear in a newsboy hat, a plaid vest and spectacles. He had a deep voice for a little bear, and always bragged about his good grades in school.

As the family grew bigger, we got very creative with voices. And names. And histories. Let's see if I can name the key players and give you a bit of background: Cocoa was the first, followed by Sherwood. Then, in no particular order (because I can't remember!) we have Sherwood's cousin Rosie; Foo Bunny and Heather Bunny (twins) and their mother Mrs. Foo; Peter who is the rich bunny who lives next door (and has a chauffeured limousine and an in-ground pool) but for some reason lives with us; Bobo the gorilla, his sister Africa and parents Mr. and Mrs. Bobo; Iggy the Iguana, his father Mr. Iggy who is a 5-foot crocodile (and starred in the movie Lake Placid, among others) and his mother Mrs. Iggy (who is a rabbit); Timmy who is a bear that looks like a clown but isn't scary, his father Mr. Timmy who is a stay at home dad who babysits all of the "kids" when they're not in school, and Mrs. Timmy who likes to sing and drink a little and is a big shot at the hospital; Tommy who is a Tasmanian Devil, and his parents (who we "hear" but don't see). Yes: this took a lot of imagination!

We have moved a few times and the families move with us: I put them into a "deep sleep" so they don't realize they are in a hefty bag and maybe in the basement until I can find a place for them all! We once lived in a very spacious and lovely townhouse; and my master bedroom was so big I had room to line them all up around the room against the walls. I loved seeing them all together! That room also had a walk-in closet, room for a desk, a queen-sized bed and 2 recliners! Boy do I miss that place! But I digress...

Mr. Iggy was my greatest acquisition. We had been talking about him, and his story was he was a movie star in a lot of movies so he didn't get home much. In reality (seriously?) I couldn't find him. I was scheduled to go away on a business trip and was at Price Chopper to buy food for the house until I returned. As I was going down an aisle I happened to notice a huge box with big stuffed animals in it. I took a cursory look and then practically dove into the box. There was a big stuffed crocodile! I put him in my cart and headed to the checkout line.

Now if you know anything about me, you know I couldn't just take him home and trot him upstairs. Oh no: I had to be creative with it. So I got home and rang the doorbell. Brie came to the landing. "Why are you ringing the bell? Do you need help with the groceries?" I answered, "No, but I didn't feel comfortable leaving you and your sister home alone while I travel. So I wanted to introduce you to your babysitter." "Mom! We're too old for a babysitter and will be fine!" I was stubborn. "I insist. Hold on." Barely able to contain myself, I grabbed the stuffed animal, ran back to the stairwell and screamed, "IT'S MR. IGGY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" She and I were both jumping up and down and then she ran down the stairs to grab him and hug  him. "He'll be the best babysitter ever! And Iggy and Mrs. Iggy will be so glad to see him!"

Yes: we said this as if it was actual reality. That's how caught up in our stories we were. But Mr. Iggy's family was glad to see him after he was shooting on location for so long, ha ha! 

Brie keeps telling me that I need to write a children's book series featuring the stuffed animals. One day I just might do that! I have at least 25 years of stories, so that could be royalty checks forever! Stay tuned...😊

This isn't the original Mr. Iggy. Luna used that one as a scratching post until he was in tatters. This is the replacement Mr. Iggy. I actually bought 2 of them: just in case! One is in my bedroom and the other one is in the backseat of my car. As hard as he was to find: I had to have a spare!

  

Becoming a Lady

 You would think that this is something that would come naturally over time. However, when I was a freshman in high school, I got recruited into a girls' club. Here's how that went:

Tammy, one of my best friends, approached me in Science class one day. "Hey, would you like to join this really cool club that I belong to?" "Sure!" I responded. "What is it?" "It's the Shangri-La Theta Rho Girls Club and you'll love it! You can go to the meeting with me tomorrow night." "Sounds good!"

So the following evening my father dropped me off and I met Tammy at the location. There were two female leaders who were thrilled to have a new member. I didn't know what was going on, but afterwards I discovered that they had sodas in the fridge for a $.05 donation. Sold!

Anyhoo, I came to discover that Tammy hated the club and figured if she brought in another member, she could get out. And she did! What she didn't know was I loved the club! It was the young lady version of a Jewish Organization called the Rebekahs, and they were an offshoot of the men's Independent Order of Odd Fellows. It taught us leadership, how to comport ourselves as ladies, how government works, and had conventions and banquets where you got to wear ball gowns! Oh yes: this was right up my alley, although I wasn't Jewish. But they loved me because I was so into everything they did. The Theta Rho motto is "Happiness Through Service". The colors of the Theta Rho Girls’ Club were Yale blue and light peach. Blue is symbolic of the bluebird and represents happiness. Light peach represents thoughtfulness and taught us to render service to others. A happy day for me was when I received my bluebird pin! (yes I'm a nerd)

It turned out that our particular club was known for it's...for want of a better word...routines that we would perform. Picture a marching band without instruments: that was us! Mrs. Beryl Hungerford and Mrs. Gregory were great at coming up with these routines. And they had a clicker that would let us know when to do the next set of steps so they didn't have to say a word. It was awesome and we were known throughout the state!

The club taught young ladies things like serving in the community, respect for yourself and others, how ladies neither chewed gum nor crossed their legs: you crossed your ankles and turned your legs to the side. These things were really easy when you were wearing a ball gown and feeling like Miss America!

My parents wouldn't let me go to sleepovers at my friends' houses, but they let me go out of town to these conventions for the weekend without a qualm. I could also go to the Theta Rho sleepovers at girls' houses. And if my parents knew what went on: they would have had serious second thoughts! One time a girl snuck in a Playgirl; and that was a bit of education I was definitely not ready for! Mrs. H caught us looking at it and she reprimanded the girls for exposing me to such a thing. She took that contraband, but I always wondered if she and Mrs. G looked at it!  I was the youngest member since Tammy defected, but I didn't care. And I stayed with this club until I graduated high school. I was even nominated and elected to a State Office during my tenure! Whoo hoo!

I also recruited my cousins Denise and Ivy into the club. They were as excited as I was about the weekend getaways. The rest of it: not so much but they were troopers and we really liked doing things together. And one year Denise was nominated to be the Queen. Our club had never had that before. And since we were the only chocolate chips in the cookie: the organization had never had a girl of color as the Queen. So we were doubly excited and knew Denise was a shoo-in.

The last night of the convention Denise looked great in her ice-blue gown and white sandals. Mrs. Hungerford and Mrs. Gregory fussed over her and made sure she looked perfect. Then they were aghast when they realized she was chewing gum! "Spit that out!" Mrs. H said, handing her a Kleenex. "Proper young ladies do not chew gum, at least not in public." Denise obeyed.  Then they began calling up the candidates, and Denise walked like a Nubian queen to the dais with the other contestants and sat down. 

We were all so excited! The crown was in the bag! She stood up to answer her questions, and then sat down. We were all clutching hands and planning the celebration. And then the unthinkable happened: the last time she sat down, she crossed her legs! "Noooo!!!!" was our collective wail. Mrs. H. was pantomiming for her to uncross her legs but alas: it was too late. The judges saw the crossed legs and as you can imagine: Denise did not win.  In her defense she always crossed her legs and old habits are hard to break: no matter how much lady training  you have.

I have no idea if those clubs still exist. It seems like such an old-fashioned premise in this day and age. I don't know if Denise and Ivy ever think about it like I do. But back then I thought it was wonderful, fun and served its purpose. R.I.P. Mrs H and Mrs. G: you did a good thing for us girls.

Mama Judi

 A lifetime ago, when Brie lived on the West Coast, she met an older woman at work named Judi. They got to be good friends and Judi was like a 2nd mother to her, hence the name Mama Judi. From everything Brie said about her, I figured that she must have been a good person and I trusted her to keep an eye on my daughter.

After five years on the left coast, Brie moved back home. But she still kept in touch with Mama Judi, as they were friends. Brie had planned to go back to Washington to visit one day, but hasn't made it back yet. I'm not mad at that!

When Facebook came out, Brie and Mama Judi were able to reconnect on that platform. I took a look at Judi's pictures and she looked like she had a pleasant countenance. After awhile I friend requested her and she accepted. And she was just as nice as Brie had said she was. And when she started reading my blog on Facebook: well that made me think even higher of her 😉 She became one of my biggest fans!

Brie was constantly telling Judi that when she got married, she wanted her to fly out for her wedding. Judi was terrified to fly. She eventually moved to Missouri from Washington state, but she did not fly!  I was hoping someday she would get over her fear of flying so she could visit. 

Sadly, Mama Judi will not be able to attend Brie's wedding when she gets married. She passed away earlier this week. It came as a shock, especially since Brie has lost so many people in the past year. One friend died just last Wednesday 😢 It has been tough, but Brie is tougher. I just regret not meeting the woman who took such good care of my daughter all those years ago.

In her honor, this is what I put on her FB for her daughter to see:

"Judi, you were a 2nd mom to my daughter when she was in Washington. Thanks for watching out for her until she moved back home. I'm so glad you remained friends and that we got to  know each other. You will be missed by many and were loved by all who knew you. God speed and God bless...may you find rest in the arms of God."

During this time keep your friends close to your heart and check in with them. No one is promised tomorrow, and this way there are no regrets.

Sending love to my friends 💛 And as always: thank you for reading.

The Porch

 When my father was alive, one of his favorite pastimes was to sit on the front porch and watch the traffic go by while enjoying a beer. It was a busy street so there were lots of cars to see! People that he knew would drive by, honk and wave. People walking by would wave and sometimes join him on the porch to visit. He really enjoyed that!

When I would stop by and find him on the porch, I would join him before I would go into the house to see whomever I had originally come by to visit. It was a nice porch with a good-sized glider on it. Marie, the plant queen, had a lot of climbing plants that had climbed over the step railing and even up onto the ceiling borders. She had flowering plants in the yard, and bushes surrounding the house. There was so much foliage that unless you were looking for it: you'd barely be able to see a house. Plus it was set back from the street, which gave it a nice-sized front yard.

After my father got sick, I didn't spend much time on that porch. I was inside visiting him at his bedside. Then after he died, I sat out there with Marie a few times, but it wasn't the same.

The funny thing is: I have a large front porch on my own house. But I rarely sit out there. It faces the same street, with the same traffic as with my father. But it isn't the same. Sometimes I take the dogs out  and they sit with me. I think it's the fact that my porch faces theirs, and things are so different. The climbing plants have been cut down, the flowers that used to cover the yard are sparse now, and some bushes are also missing. Along with Daddy Clank...I miss those days, and never imagined that I would get any of that enjoyment back...

Until a random day last week. The house is for sale and the realtor had some papers for me to sign. It was a beautiful day and I met him at the house. We sat on the porch glider and went over the paperwork before I signed. We were finished in about 20 minutes. He looked around and asked about the neighbors, and the different houses, and what it was like growing up in my parents' house. Then he asked, "Do you know who lives in the big house across the street?" I laughed. "I live there." "I guess I should have known. I drive by here almost every day, and should have recognized your car." And then we sat there for almost two hours, just talking. He told me one of the funniest stories I've heard all year, and I reciprocated in kind. I found out a lot more about him, he found out a lot more about me; and it was the best time I'd had on that porch since before my father died. 

I felt a little sorry that the house was on the market out of necessity.  Sitting there that day felt so nice and brought back good memories. So right then and there we made a pact: whoever won the lottery first would buy the house! Sounded like a good plan to both of us 😊 Of course, it would have a better chance of happening if I actually played the lottery. But you just never know what God might have in store. And I'm thankful for having one more nice day on the porch. (Thanks Junior) 😉