JUSTICE -- ALLERGIES -- THANKSGIVING -- JAZZ

 Republic -- "If you can keep it."  [Democracy]

U.S. Select House Committee on Jan. 6th Hearings

The Committee's subpoena to Donald Trump to testify resulted in the 45th President failing to comply, then suing the Committee.

Attorney General Merrick Garland, DOJ, has appointed former integrity chief, Jack Smith, as a special counsel to "oversee the Justice Department's criminal investigations involving Donald Trump" as NPR describes HERE.

QUESTION:  Will we see justice, know the results of the Committee's Hearings and the DOJ's criminal investigations involving Donald Trump before the November 2024 Presidential election?

"The time has come", the Walrus said, "To talk of many things:  Of shoes - and ships - and sealing wax - Of  cabbages - and kings - And why the sea is boiling hot - And whether pigs have wings."        The Walrus and the Carpenter  by Lewis Carroll

One interpretation at interesting literature HERE:  "The story ... is, in one sense, the story of encroachment and entitlement: the sun upon the moon's territory or time, the walrus and the carpenters upon the oysters, which they presume to eat -- because they can."

DROUGHT -- We wait in the midst of our rainy season for more of the wet stuff, but no moisture here since last week.  None projected for this week.  Maybe next week, next month.

Typically, this is our fire season in which dangerous flames every year have been very destructive, often of people's homes, lives, pets, livestock, in addition to surrounding forests, also dislocating, even injuring or killing some wildlife there.  We've been spared fires so far this season said to be due to the absence of diablo (devil) winds.  These winds "catapult embers and fan flames" spreading the fire far and wide.

KIWIS and BAMBOO FABRIC INNOCENT -- (see my previous post. ).  I have since  consulted with my Dermatologist, then referral to an Allergist has me finally getting some meaningful treatment gradually affecting all that itching, hives/rash, watery eyes, runny nose, other symptoms, and energy, alertness level depletions alleviating some sleep complications.  

Seems I did what many people do with my symptoms -- think food or some other item is the potential cause, so we try the process of elimination.  The reality, I was told, is that most often the cause has to do with pollens, airborne matters also affecting the respiratory system.  This may be more prevalent in some areas such as where I live than in others, I think.

So, I can eat those kiwis, wear those bamboo fabric P.J.s I was told (but I may wait 'til this is over).  Given some of the relief I'm experiencing indicates we're on the right track though there is still a toll as each day wears on.  Meanwhile, a thorough examination with blood work and other will be occurring.

My fatigue level, endurance have all been affected for much longer than a month now, resulting in my getting even more behind on so many things.  The annual holidays are coming, too, so, I will continue with limited time spent blogging, probably writing only here, among other things.  Thanks for your understanding.  

MUSIC MEMORIES -- An early 20th century variety of jazz and swing, before my day, continues to be popular with many of all ages -- young and old.  Dixieland is one such style that has had a popular group of musicians in our town.  Jazz evolved into later 20th century styles I especially enjoy more and shared with my husband.  Performing jazz with his groups, including a vocal one, and backing some name artists was my husband's professional avocation for many years which I've previously written about here.   

I welcome promoting jazz so was pleased to recently learn of this 43-year-old Thanksgiving festival.  Check your community for music festivals year 'round featuring the music you favor and support them.  Area Philharmonic Orchestras can be especially enjoyable, too., as are any local area symphonies that sometimes hold outdoor concerts.

2022 San Diego Jazz Fest & Swing Extravaganza.         

Celebrating 43 Years!       Thanksgiving Weekend     

"The San Diego Jazz Fest is one of the longest running annual music festivals dedicated to celebrating jazz music of the early 20th Century.  Since 1980, this event has been held during Thanksgiving weekend in San Diego, California, and features a variety of musical artists performing traditional jazz, swing, blues, ragtime, boogie woogie, gospel, and rhythm and blues."

MY FIRST THANKSGIVING I recall when I was quite young was spent on a Great Aunt's midwest Ohio farm with other of my family members on what became an extended long weekend due to unexpected snow creating safe driving concerns.  Having had our Thanksgiving dinner, we now needed more food due to our sudden necessary delayed departure in those times before home freezers with an emergency supply of food were prevalent.   

The next day the men, including my older brother, went out hunting for rabbits.  Tracking the rabbits footprints in the snow aided in the task.  They allowed me to traipse along to observe the whole process which culminated in the men dressing the rabbits for the women who later prepared them for dinner.  

I was quite appalled with the demise of the rabbits, refusing to eat any of the meat.  Finally, I reluctantly agreed to taste a bite which led to a second, then more.  Surprisingly to me, the meat was quite tasty, overcoming my focus on what had happened to the rabbits and I continued to finish my serving.  The next morning, I even ate some of the meat cold.  I've never eaten rabbit since, but then the occasion to do so has never presented itself.

THANKSGIVING celebrations will soon have many enjoying time and delicious food with family and/or friends.  Some may celebrate virtually.  Others will settle on relishing long ago memories of those times. 

May Thanksgiving be special for you!

GHOSTS, GOBLINS & SPELLS -- MULTI-VIRUSES

 REPUBLIC -- "If you can keep it."  [Democracy]

      Accountability for Jan. 6 insurrection.

U.S. Select House Committee on Jan. 6th Hearings

QUESTION:  What action will occur now since the 45th President, DJT, has not appeared or provided documents as subpoenaed to testify under oath telling the truth before the U.S. Select House Committee on Jan. 6th Hearings?

HALLOWEEN will come and go this week, then preparations will begin for the holidays yet to come.  There seems to be a lot of enthusiasm for resuming these and other celebrations in  groups, many composed of lots of family and friends.  This is quite a change from recent years when Covid kept everyone apart.  Of course, in terms of becoming ill, we seem to be far from out of the woods since Covid hasn't left us.  Also, a couple of other viruses have returned to possibly disrupt our lives more than usual.  All of us are urged to get our vaccinations up to date.

Reportedly our annual flu is a bit more virulent this year with the highest number of cases in more than a decade, presently mostly in the south though medical professionals caution it's early in the season.   Obtaining the annual flu shot now is highly recommended. 

Then, there is the common RSV -- respiratory syncytial virus that infects the lungs and breathing passages which has become of particular concern -- presently a very high incidence in our young children in some areas of our country.    

A review of various medical reports about RSV in older people summarized in a Google search reports increasing hospitalizations and death possible:  "Older adults are at greater risk than young adults for serious complications from RSV because our immune systems weaken when we are older".  

Wearing masks or not for all these viruses is each individual's decision based on their judgement about different situations.  Masks are required to be worn in some settings by various businesses of their employees and customers.  I'll soon receive my flu shot with my next doctor's appointment, then the final Covid vaccine as I continue to mask and will afterward.  

I certainly hope this year's holidays do not become virus spreading occasions for many ruining their holidays to say the least.  

Halloween has changed considerably since my youth when it was celebrated mostly by just young children.  Older teens perceived they had outgrown this activity.  We youngsters went door-to-door on what was called Beggar's Night.  No more did some older children go out to "trick" the households the next night who hadn't given a treat on Beggar's Night.   The holiday had seemed to evolve to a one night event that has since become known as Trick or Treat Night.  

Older children and even adults in subsequent years have increasingly begun to celebrate Halloween with group parties and wearing costumes.   Costumes when I was young were mostly of the home-made variety.   A simple mask just covering the eyes was typically worn with or without any other costume.  Some few ready-made costumes were beginning to become available for purchase at our five-and-dime stores like Woolworth's and Kresge's in my town, but this was an expense most families like mine didn't incur.  Part of the fun of Halloween was concocting our own costume -- simple and basic like a sheet to be a ghost progressing to more elaborate creations for others.  

Decades later when my children were young there were numerous other youngsters in our neighborhood, too.  They all soon reached an age when they went out in a group without their parents.  The marketing of ready-made Halloween costumes was increasingly becoming big business and has continued to be so.   Many children with their parents came to our door for treats with the littlest ones coming early, usually just at dusk, to show off their costumes.

After dark when the older school-age children started arriving they encountered more than treats at our house.  I had recorded eerie Halloween music and sounds such as wolves howling, chains rattling, squeaky doors, squealing creature sounds, owls hooting, high-pitched and low growling, grumbling human sounds emitted from behind our darkened garage door as the children walked cautiously and slowly up the driveway to our front door.  Some children exhibited more bravado than others.

A couple years, a father on another street dressed in a lifelike gorilla costume, roamed the streets later in the evening when only the older kids were out and about to give them some unexpected thrills.  He would suddenly appear out of the shadows to startle, even momentarily frighten these unsuspecting Halloweeners.  

We never experienced any vandalism except one year, later in the evening, when some older kids driven from other communities were dropped off on our street we think.  One of the pumpkins our children had carved that we had placed near our front door, bore evidence of a destructive busting kick we discovered the following morning.

One year I extracted the pulp from a pumpkin which I processed to use for baking my usual pumpkin pies.  I determined the pumpkin wasn't any better as I had thought it might be than the canned pumpkin I usually used.   Preparing the fresh pumpkin didn't seem worth the time and effort to me for my pies in future years.   

After our children were grown, fewer and fewer children were visiting our neighborhood on halloween.   A family with young children finally moved here but their parents had them celebrate Halloween with friends in private parties at each other's home.   They were partially prompted to discontinue allowing their children to go door-to-door by news accounts of instances in some cities where children received unacceptable, even dangerous treats of various kinds.  

In time, my husband no longer was able to keep getting up and down to answer the door  to enjoy seeing those costumed treat-seekers lessening in number.  I kept up the activity for several years though the number of children coming to our door kept dwindling even more.  Eventually, we ceased purchasing treats to distribute at Halloween after being stuck with so many goodies -- too many tempting sweets we liked but didn't need to eat.   Trick or Treaters haven't been on my street for many years.   I no longer prepare for the event so leave my porch light off.   I do have pleasant memories of the fun from all those years ago.

I Put A Spell On You  -- Nina Simone

FREEDOM -- HUMILIATION PART II -- BALD EAGLES

FREEDOM and PEACE IN JEOPARDY

Recent events in Ukraine are very much on my mind as Russia's leader, Putin, has ordered his country's military to brutally invade their peaceful neighbor nation for the sin of wanting to be free and independent to determine their own destiny -- a democracy.   Innocent Ukrainians are dying defending their country.

UPDATE For the birds ..... 

Big Bear Bald Eagles I've been following on my blog for several years laid two eggs, the first on January 22nd this year.  Pip watch has begun this Saturday, February 26th as I write this.  Pip is the first small break in the egg shell as the eaglet inside begins to peck their way out.  Three days later is usually the earliest pip watch begins for the second egg laid January 25th.

Mother, Jackie, and father, Shadow, remodeled their nest for this year.  Shadow continues to share egg incubating time on the nest when Jackie permits.  Here's the link if you want to observe them on a live camera 24/7 courtesy of Friends of Big Bear Valley, nonprofit,  in a beautiful mountain community east of where I live.   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4-L2nfGcuE&t=0s. 

An additional camera was added this year: Wide View Cam (Cam 2): https://youtu.be/Xx0nese3zL8

This is a recent video of Shadow arriving with a fish for Jackie......

ALONE, LONELY? -- HUMILIATING MOMENTS PART II

Continuing the previous post with a recap.....

Lying in bed at night, just before I fall asleep, sometimes unusual thoughts or memories emerge unbidden into my mind as I described in Part I.  I have no idea why this occurs since I'm usually thinking of nothing at that point in time when I'm about to drowse off.  A few curious events emerging recently during that time included an especially humiliating moment which I experienced as a pre-teen.

This city girl was now living in the country where I was learning to be alone and not lonely.  I was also adapting and adjusting to this most recent major change in my young life.  There was no longer an occasion for me to see other classmates outside of school and none here lived near to me as I previously wrote.  So, to have some sort of social life, make new friends, I signed up at school to join a nationally prominent organization that will remain unnamed for farm boys and girls.  I don't wish to cast the organization in a negative light since they are a very beneficial and positive group for so many.  As is often the case, youth groups are only as good as their well-intentioned leaders who as human beings can be less than perfect.

I didn't know when or where the group met but thought I'd eventually learn.  If meetings weren't anytime while I was on the school grounds, such as during lunch hour, but instead in the summer, I knew I might not be able to attend due to family transportation limitations.  I heard nothing until many weeks later, one afternoon a car turned off the main highway to come up the long drive past our neighbors to our house.  I hadn't seen the car, but a short time after the occupants arrival, they spoke with my mother.  She subsequently called to me where I was reading in my upstairs bedroom.

There were two women I met when I came downstairs who were this local group's leaders, they explained.  They said my name was on their club roster and though I had never attended any other meetings (if they had any), this was a very special day since some important official or other supervisory person was coming to assess them.  I guessed they wanted full attendance so that's why they came to get me and would bring me home afterward.   I didn't learn until later there was more to the story which they hadn't told my mother,  that my name had been scheduled to demonstrate  the activity that day.   Mom asked if I wanted to go, to which I enthusiastically said, "Yes".  I had to rush around cleaning up, changing my clothes and Mom quickly French-braided my hair as I wore pigtails then.

When we were driving to the meeting the women explained the learning activity that day was to cook a custard.  My name was listed on their schedule as the person to cook during that meeting.  I was not to worry because others were making the custard as we spoke.  When we got there I was just to take the spoon, stir the custard, and when this woman official arrived, she would probably walk over to see what I was doing and I could tell her cooking this custard.  That seemed simple  enough, but I was a bit uneasy.

When we arrived, I took my place and began stirring the custard as they had instructed.  The official soon appeared and walked over to observe me as the leaders had said she would.  She then started quizzing me about how I had made this custard.  I didn't have the foggiest idea as I'd never made custard in my life and didn't recall seeing my mother make any.  I knew there was milk in it, might have guessed some eggs, but beyond that I was ignorant.  I would have had to either not answer, or say I don't know.  

The official became increasingly persistent,  frustrated, and she kept pressing me by asking  questions I couldn't answer.  I was beginning to feel I was being made out to be stupid given her gradual vocal change in tenor.  She was becoming impatient with  her voice beginning to take on a disparaging tone toward me, querying what ingredient had I put in first -- the sequence of steps I had followed.  "Well, don't you know?", she demanded.  I could feel my face turning red with embarrassment, my ears were ringing, and my head inside felt like it would explode.  All the girls and the leaders were staring at me.

I looked helplessly at the leaders but they just looked back and weren't speaking up to clarify matters.  I didn't know what further to do or say.  Apparently, I was supposed to be able to successfully answer this woman's questions.  I began to realize this was important for whatever was at stake for the leaders and the rest of the girls.  I had a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach as I concluded that I would be letting them all down if I said I hadn't made the custard from the very beginning which must be what they wanted this woman to believe.  

The woman official may have said she didn't think I made the custard, or she may have asked me directly if I had made it from the beginning, in which case I would have answered, "No", but I  don't remember what happened as my mind and body were just frozen.  I was hearing in my head the loud deep male God character voice technically enhanced to sound other worldly, from the radio program"The Greatest Story Ever Told", that my Mom occasionally listened to and I knew I wasn't going to lie.  

The official went off to a corner of the room with the leaders.  On the opposite side of the room all the girls huddled together, then after just looking at me began whispering to one another, as I just stood there all alone.  I don't know how long I stood there, but I didn't know what to do and no one was giving me any guidance.   I didn't matter at that point to anyone, so finally, I simply went out the door, down the steps, walking several blocks to the road where I began the long two-and-a-half miles trip toward home.  I had just passed the city limits of that little village of a few hundred residents when a car stopped, horn tooted and I was relieved to discover the driver was a family member who had, coincidentally, come to town, was surprised to see me and wondered what I was doing.   I had a ride home.

I probably poured out my heart in the car to a very caring understanding ear and again to my mother when I got home, but I don't remember any of that.  Late that afternoon those leaders, I guess, drove to my house, but I was upstairs in my room and didn't have to see them.  I don't know what was said between them and my mother, but I know, as a former young teacher in a one room schoolhouse years earlier, coupled with being my understanding mother, she would not have been shy about saying what she thought about the situation.  

I don't know if the leaders had been frantic wondering where I was, had been searching for me before finally coming to our home.  If my mother and I discussed what occurred between her and them, which I'm sure she would have shared with me, I've long since forgotten.   I don't recall experiencing any repercussions from the other girls at school.   I didn't have further participation in the organization but wouldn't have been able to attend anyway since  I learned the meetings rotated to one another's home.  This all became a moot point since we moved out of state a couple months after school started again that fall.  

I never fretted about the event through the years to re-experience it as being post-traumatic, though I had recalled it from time to time.   I hadn't thought of it for years but clearly the event remained embedded in my memory.   This is all the more reason for my wondering why the recollection of  that experience I can still visualize in my mind came seeping into my consciousness this recent night.  

We've all probably had humiliating moments in our lives.  This and the others described in Part I  are some of the earliest ones which seem to have lingered in my memory only to surface recently when least expected in a most unusual way.   

What about you?   Do you recall any humiliating moments to which you may have been subjected?  

ALONE, LONELY? -- HUMILIATING MOMENTS PART I

Lying in bed at night, just before I fall asleep, sometimes unusual thoughts or memories emerge unbidden into my mind.  I have no idea why any particular content appears since I'm usually thinking of nothing at that point in time when I'm about to drowse off.  A few curious events intruding into my mind recently included some humiliating moments with one especially so that I experienced as a pre-teen.   

We had moved to the country where we lived for a little over a year.  This city girl had previously visited family living in a rural area, even helped with some chores on my uncle's dairy farm.  These included aiding harvesting hay for the coming winter by driving a hand-clutch Farmall tractor, later leading the horse to pull a trip-wire fork of hay to drop into the barn's hayloft.  Living year 'round in the country in a house where the bathroom was an outhouse was quite a different matter as I discovered from those few weeks in the summer where the family house at least had indoor plumbing.  

In the city I previously could occasionally be with friends, though in the country there was no one my age living nearby.   I have a sense now of the feelings young people experience in our current pandemic, especially if they have become accustomed to almost constant contact with their friends and have other family nearby.   They probably have their own phones, but in my generation we didn't spend time chattering on the phone, much less had our own phone, or at least I didn't.   Youth today can text or interact on the internet, too, which wasn't available to me, plus we didn't even have a house phone in the country.

Where we had moved, should someone want to reach me, I was quite isolated from any contemporaries.  I no longer had the singular independence given me by city buses to transport me to some of my favored past times, by allowing me to ride downtown to the library, roller skating rink, movie theater to view musicals, all in addition to my Girl Scout activities.

That country living was when I became acutely aware of sometimes becoming lonely or unhappy.  I eventually learned I could be alone there and not lonely, that I was responsible for my own happiness, partly based on my own attitude which I could control.  When I complained of being bored, my mother (who grew up on a farm) said I would have to find new additional ways to entertain myself differently than I had been accustomed to doing.  

Consequently, adapting and adjusting to profound changes of which these were just more, became very important lessons I learned at an early age.  They became significant to me for coping with the rest of my life.  This became especially valuable when I became a widow entering my older years, then subsequently as friends and relatives increasingly began leaving this life.    The pandemic's limitations  have added more challenges.  

When school started that fall in the country, I had to walk alone three-quarters of a mile to catch the school bus, often in the dark during cold snowy winter months, then ride for an hour over the entire trip before arriving at school only two-and-a-half miles from our house since I boarded at the beginning of the route.  Girls could only wear pants to keep our legs warm until we reached school, then we had to be wearing skirts or dresses.  

The teachers didn't know me, of course, a new student.   So on one occasion when an event motivated me to speak up to the teacher privately as the class left the room, to express heart-felt empathy to her after a very rude student had caused her to reprimand him, I was taken aback she was not receptive to what I said.  Embarrassingly to me, I was chastised for speaking to her, then told to stay in my seat excluded from recess which the rest of the class had taken outside. 

I never understood how what I said provoked her since the very rude insulting student was allowed to go outside for recess.  So much for the warm trusting respectful relationship I had appreciated which seemed to be mutual with my teachers through my previous six elementary school grades in the city.   Well, there was that occasion when the city teacher wracked my knuckles with a wooden ruler for writing notes with my boyfriend.   Another day that same city teacher had me read the spelling words to the class as she left the room because she was having a heart attack we learned later.

Then, at my new school there was the instance of total invasion of my personal privacy I thought then, in a day when girls, especially, were taught and expected to be very modest about their bodies.  Seems there was an infestation of scabies in the school or community, a bug of some sort which I'd never even heard of before.   We were sent off to the nurse's office where one by one we went into her room, not really knowing what was to occur.  

My turn came and I was suddenly being told to expose my genital area to this strange woman -- totally contrary to everything my mother had taught me about my privacy and rights, especially after my having been sexually molested when I was preschool age.   I politely resisted and then, adding insult to injury, the nurse started using what I considered offensive cajoling baby talk and euphemistic terms to me in her effort to gain my cooperation.  Despite this, I did ultimately allow her to complete what must have been a less than pleasant task for her, too, though I didn't think about that then.  I was so disgusted and again, embarrassed.  

There was never an occasion for me to see other classmates outside of school and none lived nearby as I said.  So, to have some sort of social life, make new friends, I signed up at school to join a nationally prominent organization that will remain unnamed with separate clubs  for farm boys and girls.  I don't wish to cast the organization in a negative light since overall they provide a very beneficial positive experience for so many young people.   As is often the case,  youth groups are only as good as their    well-intentioned leaders who as human beings can be less than perfect.   

The most humiliating experience I had during this time in my life I will describe next week in Part II since this has become so lengthy.   

Strange, isn't it, what comes into our thoughts at times though we may not have been thinking about anything remotely related, or even anything at all for that matter.    

 

HAPPY HOLIDAYS W/RAIN -- MEMORIES -- MUSIC

                               M E R R Y     C H R I S T M A S  !

Rain ... rain ... rain ... !   Our Christmas gift from Mother Nature has arrived at the base of  Southern California foothills where I live.    Snow is falling in the surrounding mountains.  This moisture won't end our drought conditions but will certainly be a welcome step in that direction.

One hot summer day in SoCal,  many years ago,  singer Mel Torme' visited his co-song-writer, Bob Wells as Torme' has described numerous times.  Observing a piece of paper with words written on it lying on the piano, Torme' inquired, "What is this?"

"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, 

Jack Frost nipping at your nose"

Wells explained the weather was just so miserably hot, he had tried everything, finally jumped in his pool but nothing he did soothed him, so he wrote those words to see if they might help cool him down.  Torme' commented he thought the words looked like a song.  Collaborating once again, "The Christmas Song" was written in the next forty minutes to become one of the most performed Christmas songs ever.

"The Christmas Song"  (Live/1990)

Mel Torme' with John Campbell

Album -- "The Christmas Song/Autumn Leaves"

Mel Torme' whose singing voice had perfect pitch was referred to as "The Velvet Fog",  a description he did not like but some thought non-offensive and most apropos.  Torme' maintained vocal quality as he aged which not all singers do -- such control, sophistication and class.  

Memories can be pleasant on a Christmas day celebrated virtually with distant family members.  I have fond recollections of attending with my husband,  a Mel Torme' performance in a local midwestern city dinner club where we lived years ago -- a most entertaining evening.  

I am also reminded of hearing George Shearing, a consummate pianist, incidentally blind, perform in a San Francisco hotel's club room years after his guest appearance on that live TV show with which I had been associated and where I met my husband.   Listening to this music conjures memories of my much preferred small intimate club or concert hall atmosphere where people relaxingly sit, focused on the music, musicians, rather than large concert venues with loud sensory bomb-barding sound and video extravaganza distractions prevalent in recent years.

Torme' joins George Shearing in the following concert video in Germany.  

Torme's song early in the show suggests to me we're again living in times when we may need to "pick ourselves up" and get on with life.  Then Neil Swanson's fast-fingered bass solo was reminiscent of my husband who also played the acoustic upright bass with his various groups and occasionally backed some musical stars.  

 

About 28  minutes into this smooth easy-going video Torme' sings a very emotionally moving rendition of "Stardust" with poetic lyrics eliciting many more memories as he showcases his vocal talents.   Some  upbeat tunes are featured with an early-on bit of scat singing -- vocal interpretation of a musical instrument -- reveals that Torme' is a master in those songs he vocalizes here.  

Mel Torme' George Shearing Jazz Festival Berlin 1989 Full Concert

Mel Torme' Vocals, George Shearing Piano, 

Neil Swanson Bass, Donnie Osborn Drums.

 

Torme' and Shearing pay tribute to somewhat younger Caterina Valente (age 90 now) a world famous multi-talented, mult-lingual (fluent in 7 languages) entertainer traveling from her home in Switzerland to attend their concert.

An even more youthful Caterina Valente's sensuous dance and vocal interpretation of "Malaguena" begins this next video, that integrates memorable movie clips of other popular stars of the era performing to her song.  

Caterina Valente

"Malaguena" (1955) 

                         H A P P Y    H O L I D A Y S !

THANKSGIVING OBSERVATIONS & REFLECTIONS

Thanksgiving will arrive during this week ahead, then we can really get into preparing for the next holiday.   What seems to be happening in recent years is that we're all in such a rush that we start pushing for the holiday that comes after the one we haven't even yet celebrated.

In fact, this year I started seeing promotions for Christmas before we even had Halloween the end of October, much less Thanksgiving the end of November.  I don't hear such early promotion of Hanukkah or any other holidays, especially those with religious emphasis, occurring during that time.

Halloween this year came and went as Christmas promotion became even stronger -- and we still hadn't had Thanksgiving yet!

Well, finally Thanksgiving will be here this week, so we can hardly wait to finally throw ourselves into really, major Christmas promotion, or -- wait a minute -- are we going to skip ahead to New Year's?

I remember my childhood and think about all the little children today.  When I was young Christmas was never promoted until the day after Thanksgiving.   Even then, I thought the time to wait was so-o-o very, very, lo-n-g-g -- I can only imagine how children today must feel -- waiting ... waiting ... waiting ... when is Santa coming?

I checked back to some of my old posts in which I wrote about Thanksgiving.  I typed "Thanksgiving" in that little search box in the upper left-hand corner of this screen on my blog and amazingly to me there were ten blog posts that came up.  I probably mentioned Thanksgiving within other posts most years, too.

Reviewing those ten posts, one, especially, elicited a mixture of feelings for me -- that Thanksgiving was the first one I remembered describing what occurred that year, about 7 months after my husband's death in 2006.  I wrote about my deliberately choosing to go alone to a restaurant as I wanted to know how I would feel.  The piece entitled "Adventure Alone on Thanksgiving" gave an account of what turned out to be a rather unusual experience.

I also wrote one year about a Thanksgiving controversy in our town over our school children's Indians and the Pilgrims tradition.  Another year, I suggested we should move the date of when we celebrate Thanksgiving -- seemed like a viable possibility at the time.

I've shared Thanksgiving memories.  I've written about how I've celebrated the day virtually with my family long before this pandemic which I likely will be doing again this year.  Generally, my Thanksgiving posts have just been a potpourri of thoughts, memories, and experiences.  I invite you to read any of them that might be of interest.

As I write this, I have just experienced an evening of viewing listening to Great Performances on one of my four antenna accessible Public Broadcasting Stations (PBS) TV channels -- a night of intoxicating music and am in a very reflective mood.  

There was the centennial celebration of the landmark Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra.  They performed "La Valse" by Ravel, Stravinsky's "The Firebird" (a special favorite of mine) and more led by three renowned LA Phil conductors: current Music and Artistic director Gustavo Dudamel, Zubin Mehta and Esa-Pekka Salonen.  Then, "From Space I Saw Earth" was conducted by those three.

I think of Thanksgivings past, a house filled with laughter, attracting aromas drawing one and all of a variety of ages to a dinner table over-flowing with delicious food and beverage.  That was then, this is now.

May you enjoy every moment of this Thanksgiving season -- that special day you experience this year, the memories you have from yesteryear and look forward to the ones you'll form in the coming year(s).  

We may want to take a few moments to count our blessings -- to think for what we can be thankful.  

Diana Krall sings "Counting My Blessings"

 

This year, as every year, I wish each of you a very happy Thanksgiving.

Perhaps you have a special Thanksgiving memory, thought, or want to share here this year's plans.  

BLOGAVERSARY 15th -- THANK YOU

Blogaversary -- my 15th on October 24th  -- Where have all the years gone?

I want to tell all of you how much I've come to appreciate getting to know you, along the way.   As I've aged, I've mentioned in recent years how my once large family and wide number of friends here and across the country have been, surprisingly to me, dying in significantly increasing numbers.   How very inconsiderate of them -- a thought with which most of them if still able would laughingly agree!

Never in my wildest imagination did I ever anticipate I would be deprived  of the presence of so many in my life as has occurred with contemporaries and especially those younger than me.  Somehow, though I knew differently on some level, I expected in my old age that most people in my life for whom I cared would be around at least as long as I was, especially my husband, or probably even longer.

After my husband died, I finally was able to begin participating more in some local interest groups to possibly form new friends filling the gap left by the death of the many friends I had acquired in moves about our country through the years.   I was surprised to discover new social relationships did not evolve as readily as they had in my earlier years.  Given the shortened remaining time in our lives can challenge building relationships.  That said, I recall one older long gone friend once told me, there are no friends like old friends.  

This proved to be true for socialization with any participants beyond the monthly meeting times of groups I joined, such as Night Writers, which ended several years ago.  Then, as the years passed, most aging members, even much younger ones, began moving away, or had to devote more time to their loved one's needs, with a few developing serious medical issues, others dying.

In another example, some book club members I learned were caregivers of a spouse or another, and this outing was their only respite time, a situation with which I could identify.  Others hardly had enough time and energy to sustain involvement with local family members, old long time friends, or those new ones they were developing in their nearby retirement community, so they regretted inability to predictably incorporate new people from outside their world into their lives.  Couples circulated almost exclusively with other couples.  All of this is understandable.  I discovered other bloggers reports of encountering similar situations where they lived, thwarting their efforts to form a new local social network.

When I stopped my part time work at age 79, after a couple years some unexpected complications aging can bring began gradually slowing my activities, surprisingly to me at what I thought was my young age.  Had I anticipated this I would have retired sooner, but life is unpredictable.  Of course, like all of you, the pandemic has impacted my life, altering my situation somewhat more and my further socialization efforts as I continue living in place in my home.

Blogging, when I began,  I had perceived from others was believed to offer a multitude of untapped benefits to many including opening the world to older people via the Internet, as well as providing an opportunity to participate in a community, especially for those who live alone or might not have family close by. This was a concept with which I agreed, though not necessarily thinking of blogging being that important to me at the time.  

Little did I anticipate or realize that blogging would, in the years ahead for me, become much more significant in my social life.  So, I genuinely and sincerely offer an inadequate "thank you", to every one of you for writing your entertaining, often informative, occasionally humorous blogs, taking the time to comment on my own conglomeration of thoughts, and offering the blogger community virtual friendship we all enjoy.

On to the current world in which I live .....

I had my annual medical examination with my doctor concluding I was still alive -- just as I thought.   I received this year's protective flu injection.  The end of this coming week I'll be the recipient of the Pfizer Booster jab in my other arm.  Then, I'll be all shot up for however long all that lasts!  ha

If you saw news reports or read about the "Bomb Cyclone and 'Atmospheric River'" lambasting California last week, that rain and storm was elsewhere, not where I live, just below SoCal's foothills.  I did observe we received only a very limited, meager, dripping-off-my-house's-roof amount of rain.

Now, we actually have summer again for a few days with temperatures pushing into the eighties, to be followed soon by cooling into the seventies.  There's even a hint (10% chance) of moisture for several days which will do little or nothing to lessen drought in our area, if the rain really arrives.

Never fear, I believe fall is still trying to come on the scene!  A favorite song of mine seems appropriate here as I think of fall, my favorite season -- the spectacular colors of changing leaves from Aspens golden yellows to Maples rich rusts and deep reds, plus color variations from other trees and shrubs most observable at higher elevations than my own and more profoundly in other parts of our country where I once lived.  

There was that memorable overwhelmingly colorful fall driving trip my husband and I made up the eastern Atlantic coast through states including New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine, into Niagara Falls and Canada.   This was my husband's birthday month as well as my own and others in my family.   

I'm also reminded of Eva Cassidy whose vocal talents were just becoming recognized when she died much too early in her young life.

Autumn Leaves (official video) 

 Eva Cassidy & the London Symphony Orchestra

https://lnk.to/evacassidy.      https://blix-street.lnk.to/AutumnLeaves

Then there were fall memories after our family was started, taking our children to a pumpkin patch at what was predominately a nut farm the rest of the year, near what was then called the San Diego Zoo Wild Animal Park, to make their selections for later carving.  One pumpkin's flesh I made into a family favored pumpkin pie.  

Many years later after I became a widow, fall trips to Michigan included visits to a cider farm reminding me of when as a young girl in Ohio we had an apple press from which we made our own cider a couple years. 

Another year in Michigan, when my grandson was younger we had come full circle with a trip to a pumpkin farm that included more cider and a challenging walk through a corn stalk maze.  

And then there's Halloween's ghosts and goblins along with the distributing and gathering of all those goodies!

Perhaps fall has special memories for you, too, and blogging has made your life more enjoyable. 

Thanks again to one an all bloggers and especially those I've come to know here! 

FARM SLAVE LABOR -- ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS ?

Immigration is such a touchy topic -- all those illegals entering our country -- maligned by so many.  Do we benefit from low priced food because of the labors some provide?  

Some of them may make up the farm workers who harvest our fresh produce, vegetables and fruit.  Mostly they earn only starvation wages, have no health care, meager possessions, pathetic housing conditions.  Decades pass and these issues seem never to go away, ebbing and flowing from bad to worse and back again.

Living in the Midwest when I was young my awareness of the laborers harvesting our food out west was not in my consciousness.   I became accustomed to seeking ways to earn money that began in my early years as my mother incentivized me when I helped her with a sideline greeting card business.  This was long before greeting cards other than for the really big sellers at Christmas were readily available in stores.  

We took orders for the Christmas cards by the box, plain or name engraved.  The other cards we sold throughout the year when someone would phone saying they needed only one or the other card for some occasion from a box of "everyday cards" we kept on hand -- get well, birthday, anniversary, sympathy.  I delivered them on my bicycle and received a small amount of pay from my mother for my efforts.

We moved to the country the year I started Jr. High School.  One summer I learned of a farm down the highway from where we lived that was hiring workers to harvest potatoes on an upcoming Saturday.  I was enthusiastic about this opportunity to earn some extra spending money.  I was to be paid by the weight of the potatoes I gathered though I don't recall now the rate.  

We followed a tractor pulling a mechanical device unearthing the potatoes allowing us to pluck each one from the dirt  to add to the huge bag we drug behind us.  Our bag filled we took them to a wagon for weighing and emptying together with all the others.  

I remember how dirty, hot and sweaty the work was, exhausting me at the end of the picking day.  I hadn't set any records for the meager number of total potatoes I harvested so earned very little compared to the expectations I had when I took that job.  

I had, however, just added one more type of employment to the list I was formulating in my memory that I knew absolutely I did not want as a career when I became an adult.  By the same token, I had learned from my Mother's model I would be wise to be experienced in doing many jobs I might not find appealing in order to survive, to not be too proud to do so.

I think now of farm workers of varying ages harvesting crops day after day, all day long and appreciate the fruits of their labor with every bite I take.  I think of the meager wages for such exhausting work these people earn, limited if any benefits they have including health care, with only their basic living conditions at best.

A recent article by Nina Lakhani in "The Guardian"  shared photographs by Encarni Pindado from Texas' Rio Grande Valley:   "Meet the workers who put food on America's tables -- but can't afford groceries.  Undocumented immigrants are doing the backbreaking farm work that keeps the US food system running but struggle to feed their families."

Lakhani reports "About half of the 2.5m farm hands in the US are undocumented immigrants, according to the US Department of Agriculture (USDA), though growers and labor contractors reckon the figure is closer to 75%."

One woman, Linda Villareal, (not her real name) written about:  "For this backbreaking work, Villareal is paid $7.25 per hour, the federal minimum wage since 2009, with no benefits " She has also had to cope with the debilitation of Covid 19 symptoms.

Villarreal works six days a week, sometimes seven, putting food on Americans' tables but earns barely enough to cover the bills and depends on food stamps to feed her own family.

Writer Lakhani reports, "Even before the pandemic, farms were among the most dangerous workplaces in the country, where low paid workers have little protection from long hours, repetitive strain injuries, exposures to pesticides, dangerous machinery, extreme heat and animal waste.  Food insecurity, poor housing, language barriers and discrimination also contribute to dire health outcome for farmworkers, according to research by John Hopkins Centre for a Livable Future."  Farmworkers are reported to have experienced "a disproportionate impact of Covid 19" during this pandemic.

"Many undocumented farmworkers have been toiling in the fields for years, pay taxes and have American children, yet enjoy few labor rights, have extremely limited access to occupational health services and live under the constant threat of deportation.

In truth, farmworkers here are never harassed while working in the fields, which advocates say suggests a tacit agreement with growers to ensure America's food supply chain isn't disrupted by immigration crackdowns.  It's everywhere else that these essential workers, who kept toiling throughout the pandemic, are not safe."

The NYTimes reports our US Supreme Court recently decided a California court case preventing unions from organizing at the farmworkers workplace since this infringed on employer's rights.  "The case concerned a unique state regulation allowing labor representatives to meet with farm workers at their workplaces for up to three hours a day for as many as 120 days a year."  The vote was 6 to 3, with the court's three liberal members dissenting.

"The decision did away with a major achievement of the farmworkers' movement led by Cesar Chavez in the 1970s, which had argued that allowing organizers to enter workplaces was the only practical way to give farmworkers, who can be nomadic and poorly educated, a realistic chance to consider joining a union."   I experienced my English as a Second Language (ESL) students having to leave as they followed the various crop harvests across California some years ago after only a few classes.  Is it any wonder they may have difficulty learning English?

Are those whose skills may be unappreciated and unrewarded going to be content to be taken advantage of forever?  

Will there be a day of reckoning for American's farm worker slave labor -- our food availability and how much we pay for that food?  I wonder what the situation is in Europe and the rest of the world?

 

LUCKY ? -- FATHER'S DAY -- JUNETEENTH

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY to all those great Dad's that many are fortunate enough to have, or had in their lives.  I'm pretty sure from all accounts both of my grandfathers were great Dads.  Unfortunately, my grandfathers had departed this earth before I was born or had a chance to know them.

JUNETEENTH DAY was declared an official national holiday beginning the 19th.  The commemoration recognizes the final end of slavery, that hadn't been established in every state until two years after Abraham Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation in 1862 during the Civil War.

LUCKY ?    

Are some people luckier than others?  

Lucky is said by some to stress chance bringing about a favorable result.   

One online library definition differentiates between chance and luck.  

"Chance-oriented persons decide according to given or estimated odds that define the decision problem.

"Luck-oriented persons, on the other hand, rely on self-attributions of personal luck, and ignore the probabilities of decision outcomes"

Luck is often associated with gain or loss through gambling which I think must be a luck-oriented activity.   On the other hand, some forms of gambling as offered at casinos are said to offer a greater chance at winning than others.   The slot machines, which are the only games I've ever played in casinos, I understand to offer the least chance of winning.   

Drawings winning odds can vary based on the number of entries.  Possibly the least chance of winning a drawing can be found in some of the various U.S. state lotteries that have been offered in recent decades.  The potential $$$ winnings can be very attractive despite the odds. 

I think I'm basically a chance-oriented person although my occasional drawing participations and slot machine gambling may carry an element of being luck-oriented, though I didn't seriously expect to win.  (Maybe my lack of believing I would win adversely affected my odds -- introducing another element).  Of course, my slot machine gambling and years past friendly poker-playing card games occasionally with family members and friends had been for fun.  

I've never considered myself to be unusually lucky when it comes to casino gambling or in drawings.  I have won two drawings in my life.  One when I was in my twenties soon after I had purchased my first car.  The nearby newly opened Gulf gas station I had begun frequenting had a drawing (obviously only few entries) where I won a boy's bicycle.  I sold it.

Many years later after moving to the west I entered a drawing at a local news stand/video rental store I occasionally visited.  I was surprisingly delighted to win a transistor radio, especially since they were not inexpensive as the latest new tech device of the time before personal computers.   Months later my enjoyment was short-lived when our house was broken into with the thieves stealing my radio along with a journal gifted to me in which I had just started writing.  

I recall many years ago, soon after I was wed, attending the annual meeting of a business organization associated with my husband's work then.  Before we joined the other three owners and their wives at our table, my husband mentioned to me that the wife of one of the senior owners seemed to be uncannily lucky and just about always won when they had drawings.  Sure enough, from the hundred or more people present her name was drawn for one of the prime prizes.

Then, there are the gamblers like Marlon Brando's character who sang "Luck Be A Lady Tonight" in the movie version of the Broadway musical "Guys and Dolls". 

An acquaintance recently told me of her experiences going to the casinos with her much more affluent younger sister who she believes to be especially lucky.  Their most recent visit the "lucky" sister won some big bucks though my acquaintance is the one who really could have used the financial boost.   Her sister did share a portion of her winnings though my acquaintance said she was reluctant to accept the generosity since she wasn't inclined to accept such gifts.   

A friend of mine seems to have the magic touch when it comes to slot machines.  They've occasionally traveled to casinos, including Las Vegas for years during visits to family residing there.  They usually stop in a casino before returning home.  She, but not her husband, generally wins enough in only a short time to minimally gain the cost of their trip -- driving expenses, hotel bills if they've chosen to stay in one which they frequently do, dining out costs, and sometimes even more on their overnight or several day jaunts.  They have no really big wins but rare are the occasions when she hasn't won enough to cover all their travel outlay.  

Those are a few examples of individuals who may be considered to meet the criteria of some for being "lucky" that come to my mind.  

Do some people you know seem to be luckier than others?

Do you think you are a more chance or luck-oriented person?  

DINING MISHAPS LEAVE A BAD TASTE

Ever-changing unexpected, unpredictable events continue to occur in our government about which we're all being informed by our news media, so I'll limit any review of most particulars here.  Suffice to say the pandemic continues to wreck havoc in the world to some degree from one country to another.  Here in the US. the inevitable viral spread keeps surfacing with varying intensity giving me concern as to how our lives are being affected, how our future will unfold.  

My previous post reveals how I discovered I use the British, not the American or French method to prepare my scrambled eggs.  I was intrigued with how some who commented described their own egg scrambling methods.  I don't think I'm overly picky about food but I do have some basic expectations when I eat out.   I recall a couple incidents unrelated to scrambled eggs that were quite objectionable.  

I was at an upscale restaurant with an old friend I hadn't seen for a while who had returned home for a short visit with her mother.  They lived in a small community whose local newspaper latched on to her visits as a social item worthy of note whenever she came to town.  She laughingly told me she had long since gotten use to her notoriety there which prompted headlines like "E (her name) is back in town!"  After all, girl/woman continuing to make good -- working in NYC television industry with celebrities was news during those years when TV was the prominent technology with only three major networks, long before cable and our digital world.

She took me to the most prominent of one of her small town's primo hotel's restaurants where we were practically the only people in the dining room.  I'm sure they were impressed and pleased to have her there.  Having placed our dinner orders my friend had my full attention as we caught up on our lives while waiting for our dinners to be served.  As I took a sip of my water I became vaguely aware of feeling something soft at the corner of my mouth.  Continuing to concentrate on what my friend was saying, I paid little attention as I just automatically reached with my fingers to remove what I felt on my lower lip.

Seeping into my consciousness then was the realization I was sipping water so there shouldn't have been anything of substance.  Glancing at the unknown as I laid it on the table after a few shocked seconds I incredulously recognized I was looking at a very large dead water-soaked cockroach/water-bug.  My friend was equally repulsed as was I.  The waiter we called over was mortified as he should have been since I think he surely would have noticed the creature when he brought our filled water glasses if he had been paying attention. 

Ever since that experience, I check all water glasses I'm served and hope that waiter learned to examine water-filled glasses, too.  As you might expect, the restaurant manager was quick to volunteer they were giving us complimentary dinners.   

Years later when having lunch at a different restaurant I suddenly realized the strawberry pie filling I was eating had a strange crunch on one chew.   Examining the remainder of the pie in front of me I discovered a rather large-sized neck piece of a broken glass bottle.  I was frozen for the moment, concerned I might have swallowed glass bits.  When I summoned the restaurant manager  he said they would pay for me to get an ER medical examination but I must sign a form first relieving them of any responsibility though I wasn't asked to pay for my lunch.   Of course I refused to sign the form.  

What I learned at the hospital was I must await the food to process through my body, then if bleeding symptoms appeared I would know there was a potential problem.    I was very alarmed for a day or so waiting to be certain my bodily system was unimpaired.   I did contact the attorney wife of my employer who counseled me to do nothing further at that time as I was concerned about future implications for myself and husband.  Those days were a different time since subsequent years lawsuits have become much more prevalent over every thing that happens.  Fortunately, I never exhibited any symptoms indicating interior body damage so no further action was taken.  

No doubt some of you may have had some dining experiences you hadn't expected, leaving a bad taste in your mouth.    

INCIDENTAL EXPERIENCES TO THE UNUSUAL PART 3

I continue to be quite attuned to governmental, political, health issues; am no less concerned than I have been, though I’ve presently spared you by refraining from writing about those matters here.   With President and Vice President candidates in both of our major political parties being officially nominated these weeks the campaigning will soon become intense.    

* * *

Continuing tale of incidental experiences to my unusual job training week  .....

 

The previous two posts explain the point of the story I’ve been telling about my strange on-the-job training experience in production for a TV station’s talk show with which I became associated.   Memories triggered prompts me to follow up by adding some subsequent experiences.  Despite the unusual introduction to my new position, my working relationship with the show’s host and the rest of the staff was quite positive.   Years after the show ended and we had all long-since scattered across the country most of us lost contact with one another.   

 

The program’s host and I had become friends, so after he left the show, he wrote me from wherever he traveled round the country, always remembered my birthday, years later had dinner with my husband and I in our home when we ended up moving here to Southern California.  My friend had also moved to Los Angeles pursuing his entertainment business career, adding acting and movies to his repertoire.  

 

He even taught a class at a local college on how to survive in the entertainment business world, stressing to aspiring novitiates the importance of accumulating a financial reserve to survive unexpected termination of employment and occasions of other inevitable time periods when there would be no work at all. 

 

He advised keeping possessions to a minimum since belongings moving costs could be expensive, especially if you were going coast to coast for periods of time as he sometimes did.  For example, he bought only paperback books (more lightweight for shipping) in a day when hardbacks were usually the most prevalent.   Unfortunately, in those days a couple years could pass before new published books were released in paperback form hampering getting the latest best sellers right away. 

 

His correspondence to me was often signed with a name other than his own.   Instead he signed what he considered unusual sounding names he liked to collect or those of former guests who had appeared on the show such as local Trudy Rella, an inside bit of memorabilia few others could appreciate as I did.  She had been a nationally treasured folk singer in her European home country of Austria or Czechoslovakia but was generally unappreciated in the U.S.   A rare unusual name he liked to hear the sound of rolling off his tongue that I recall was Duard Farquhar a talented professional dancer/teacher in the area.   

 

Earlier he had asked me to type copy (remember typewriters before computers?) for a book he wrote condemning the use of words with “wise” tacked on to the end – such as  “weather-wise”, “book-wise” that he would ridicule by saying “wise-wise....” -– for being grammatically incorrect.  He was determined to eliminate this “wise” usage but despite his efforts the idea never seemed to gain popular traction. In fact, “wise” being added to many words may have proliferated based on my listening to media folk and others talk today.  The book was never published as far as I know. 

 

That my host friend had begun acting was an interesting change in attitude since privately  he used to complain about the acting profession when name artists performed in our city.   When requests to appear were made to the actors they would plead they couldn’t get up that early to guest on our talk show which began at 9:30 a.m. despite the free promotion they and their show would receive.   

 

Our host’s rationale was that even internationally known musicians, playing sometimes until 2 a.m. or later in the morning at city night clubs, almost always would welcome appearing on the show, even singing at that early hour or performing a tune once they heard the high professional competence of our talented musicians playing.  

 

Actors performances ended hours before the musicians’ gigs, so our host didn’t view their plea of needing rest viable since they could go to bed earlier.   All the actors had to do was just come to the TV station the next morning and talk for a few minutes on the set to freely promote their play, themselves, or whatever, he would say.   He belittled them in private to staff, since how could they not want to be on his TV show?  

 

Our budget like most TV stations other than those at the major networks didn’t allow for a token fee to be paid artist guests or even pay for their transportation to the studio – no limousines here, just city cabs they had to hire for themselves.  

We had no Green or any other color Room where artists alone or with an entourage could wait in private.  There were no beverages, snacks, even water, hot coffee or tea, other than what some station departments brewed for themselves.  We had no budget for such luxury though in the early years a sales promotion contract allowed us to give away some expensive products like washing machines, refrigerators, dish washers and many other items to select studio and viewing audience members.

 

Instead, show guests had to wait in our other smaller studio with metal folding chairs, no TV monitor.   Staff periodically traipsed through that studio to the control room and other offices. I basically had to shepherd the guests with little or nothing to offer for their comfort.  I might add, all were very gracious considering, but they may have been used to such conditions.  So much for the glamour of TV.

 

We had no makeup and hair staff to enhance an artist’s appearance, either.  One of our setup boys (as these often Univ. college students were called) sometimes practiced his drama school makeup application skills on guests in some situations but he typically didn’t work during our show times.  Any other on-the-air talent had to apply their own makeup if they wanted or needed to use any.   As TV matured so has what is considered necessary staff and guest preparations for TV appearances.  

 

My friend usually had me or others apply different black substances he was trying for effectiveness to a bald circle on his hair-thinned scalp to prevent the glare that occurred on camera from the intense set lighting.   Artists were often secretive about such use in those days, but in more recent times most are open about hair loss issues, also wearing toupees, wigs.  Subsequent years such makeup has been refined for the ease of use and benefit of many males with a similar issue who appear on camera as other technical changes have also occurred.  Our current President seems to cope with his hair issue in a rather unique manner. 

 

I’ve managed to write on this topic much longer than I expected and still haven’t arrived at the end of my tale.   This is because I’ve triggered more memories, so contrary to what I expected I’ll be continuing this story for another week for any who may be brave enough to still be following this saga. 

 

LIFE'S VARIETIES -- OCTOPUSES -- FRIEND'S QUIETUS

Life isn’t much different for me right now than it would usually be this time of year when I would typically be staying indoors during the day due to the heat.  Temperatures have suddenly moved into the three-digit Fahrenheit numbers from this summer’s unusually less-warm July days.  Now, humidity is very low with winds whipping around to combine with these high temperatures creating a climate of high fire danger.

So, as I write this, three fires rage in our Southern California surrounding area with at least one having zero containment, requiring some families to vacate their homes with only one such structure reported lost so far.   Thousands of acres are burning with the possibility arson may be a cause in some situations.  How firefighters weighted down with protective clothing and equipment manage to combat these flames in such threatening conditions boggles my mind.  I’m thankful to not be in danger where I live.

Those residents needing to seek safety and shelter due to fire must also contend with the dangers associated with contracting Covid-19.   This virus complicates life for even unthreatened-by-fire ordinary people, especially those without air conditioning who need to seek cooling centers, a few of which have opened.   People seeking safety from the fires or respite from the heat, or both, are required to wear masks, observe social distancing which limits the number of people facilities can accommodate as well as the activities with which people can engage while there.    

This extremely contagious virus continues to spread excessively with a segment of the population refusing to follow recommended safety precautions.   I continue to find it disappointingly incredible that some of my fellow Americans care so little about their own well-being and not at all for that of others despite the obvious potential life and death health issues.

Life for humans and all of Earth’s other creatures continues to be fascinating to me.   I resumed participation in a book club with which I’d been involved for a few years.  Members have changed considerably since my last presence as death has taken its toll on these primarily seniors, but new readers have joined the group.  This was our first virtual meeting as a few gathered in a local retirement community where they lived, with the rest of us Zooming in from our residences.   

The book we discussed was a unique one which I thoroughly enjoyed reading:   Award winning Soul of an Octopus by Sy Montgomery.    The wonder of consciousness is explored with exceptional writing moving this story along with fascinating facts I had not known.  The author’s educated observations were colored with emotional elements I had never imagined could occur between an octopus and human beings.   Descriptions of interactions with several octopuses – yes, that’s the plural not octopi – clearly evidence they each had distinct personalities.  I could never have imagined these short-lived sea creatures could be so interesting. 

I have since pondered the lives of all creatures, including those many varieties in our oceans.  I consider what is known of dolphins, whales, sharks, fish, along with lesser-known-to-me sea life as well as sea urchins, crabs, lobsters we thrust live into boiling water to then devour their meat.  We humans pride ourselves in our superior intelligence, even our humanity, but what about these creatures? 

I found myself wondering if we do discover life on other planets, or should life forms even eventually find us to visit our planet, what might they be like physically, with what moral and ethical values, if any?  Might habitual lying as a means to an end be acceptable behavior as even some humans exhibit?  What might they be like if in possession of emotions?   What might be the implications for we humans?

Remember the original Rod Serling “Twilight Zone” episode entitled “To Serve Man”? Here’s an abridged version:

Thinking about life and death as occurs in all life forms, I’m reminded of recently discovering on the internet an obituary of a friend who died several months earlier, finally confirming what I had been concerned was likely to have occurred.  She had held the 2006 celebration of life in her home in conjunction with many of my husband’s and our old friends after his death.  My children and I with others had travelled there from our respective homes to share that loving experience with one another. 

She was my last connection with any living friend or family member where I also lived many years of my life having key experiences –- where I met my husband, had earlier become politically active, served my first jury duty, effectively diluted with like-minded friends a covert racial discrimination situation, and shared many still treasured memories with then a large family and an abundance of friends on numerous occasions.        

My friend and I had abruptly ended our last phone conversation when she heard some of her family arriving just as she had begun to discuss some concerning personal family matters, expecting we would resume our conversation later.   We never had contact after that.  My letters, while never returned, or phone messages with the number’s recorded message soon changed to be more formal, elicited no response when I periodically called.  Efforts to reach a couple of her adult children I had never met were unsuccessful.   A rumor had been shared with me a few years earlier that she might have Alzheimer’s but was not verified -- I still don’t know. 

The number of living loved ones I have left have dwindled beyond any total I could ever have imagined.  Seems strange to think of myself as the elder in my family and now even among my few remaining living friends.  Just as many have shared here, one of the more difficult aspects of aging is the loss of friends and family which never gets easier.  We treasure the memories and we get on with life as those who care for us want us to do.  

I expect some of you are reading some interesting books, too, some of which may stimulate your thinking to go in many directions.   Maybe you’re engaged in crafts, or any one of a multitude of other activities attractive to you during these challenging times.  Likely your thoughts may occasionally take you on flights of fancy and speculation as mine sometimes do. 

Do continue to stay safe and as healthy as you can be.  Treasure whatever contact you may have with family and friends.   Take comfort in knowing that in time this situation in which we live shall pass.  My only question is, “will that be before or after I do?” she asked quizzically with a chuckle! 

  

REOPEN BUSINESS, SHELTER-IN-PLACE, MASK?

Lots of controversy about whether or not we need extreme shelter-in-place requirements with many businesses closed during this Coronavirus.   I’ve been pretty convinced based on health, science conclusions and recommendations the answer was a resounding “YES”!    Then, as I was readying for bed the other night I heard a name mentioned on the news that I recognized.  Seems he had been involved with conducting some research that was bringing the necessity of closed businesses and sheltering-in-place into question.   

“Via Stanford's Hoover Institution -- Dr. Jay Bhattacharya is a professor of medicine at Stanford University. He is a research associate at the National Bureau of Economic Research and a senior fellow at both the Stanford Institute for Economic Policy Research and the Stanford Freeman Spogli Institute.

His March 24, 2020, article in the Wall Street Journal questions the premise that “coronavirus would kill millions without shelter-in-place orders and quarantines.” In the article, he suggests that “there’s little evidence to confirm that premise—and projections of the death toll could plausibly be orders of magnitude too high.”

Dr. Bhattacharya was asked “in this edition of Uncommon Knowledge with Peter Robinson to defend that statement and describe to us how he arrived at this conclusion. We get into the details of his research, which used data collected from hotspots around the world and his background as a doctor, a medical researcher, and an economist. It’s not popular right now to question conventional wisdom on sheltering in place, but Dr. Bhattacharya makes a strong case for challenging it, based in economics and science.”

Here’s Dr. Bhattacharya youtube interview discussion of test results for COVID-19 conducted “in Santa Clara County, California, one of the most active hotspots in the country”.   Another study recently completed with results to be released soon was done in partnership with Major League Baseball.  He mentions even another recently completed interesting-sounding study with results soon to be released. 

There is discussion of “some signs of hope, and specifics about how the economy can be restarted safely and efficiently.  Dr. Bhattacharya also gives some (unsolicited) advice to Dr. Anthony Fauci, California governor Gavin Newsom and president Donald Trump.” 

Well, what to think now about opening up our businesses and how we safely go about it?  How much do we need to shelter-in-place?   Should we continue to mask?  There is so much still unknown about this virus. 

No matter what develops on businesses reopening, I remain convinced this U.S. President, his Administration, have failed and continue to do so in seeing that our medical community has the potentially life-saving PPE (personal protective equipment) needed.  There must be accountability when the immediacy of the challenges we face now have reached some level of resolution. 

Considering Dr. Bhattacharya’s present research results, I look forward to the eminent reports to come.   Confessing to being a news junkie, I’ll be interested in what actions our California governor, Los Angeles mayor and that of our own City Council take in the days and weeks ahead.  Certainly, the words and actions of our nation’s President will be of concern as well as what other states’ leaders do, and how residents react. 

Ventura County California is expected to become the first area in our state to loosen restrictions including opening golf courses and allowing more access to their beaches which were never completely closed.  People age 70-75 and older are still recommended to stay inside.    

I live in northeast Los Angeles County and continue to stay inside my house.   I wear my mask whenever I venture out to occasional drive-thrus, or as I did today to pick up pre-ordered items brought to my car.   Only a half-block from my home I returned when I realized I had forgotten my mask.   Thinking of the virus I was reminded of the businesses reopening issue, controversy of need to shelter-in-place since Dr. Bhattacharya’s research. 

My thoughts wandered as I started recalling that upper elementary school boy,  his younger brother, Deep,  that I used to give rides to school on rainy days.  I remembered when they reached high school, took national tests making such high grades they received a great deal of So Cal recognition, that they had gone on to attend college, Jay at Stanford, that he became a doctor.  I lost track of his further studies but have since learned they were in economics. 

Now I read he has also focused some of his work on aging issues associated with older people.  When last I spoke with his mother we hadn’t discussed our children or grandchildren.  Neither of us have been out in the neighborhood for a while but there will be much to talk about when next we meet.   

Meanwhile, if I kept an isolation diary it might read something like this I poached from another blogger whose name or blog I apologize for forgetting. 

Isolation

Day 31:  I had a conversation with a spider today.  She seems nice – is a Web Designer. 

There seems to be no one unified message so what do you think about businesses reopening, sheltering-in-place, everyone continuing to wear masks, older people being expected to continue staying in?