Ringo is Seventy! Happy Birthday!

Ringo was and will always be My Beatle. He's not everyone's fave Fab, but I've loved him since I was 4 (according to my Mom) when they landed in NY and all Hell broke loose. Girls met them at the airport carrying bleach and threatening to drink it unless they met The Beatles. Fans chased their cars- or what they thought were their cars- all over the city. You couldn't hear their music over the screaming on Ed Sullivan. Ah, the memories.

And Ringo is 70 years old today.
Happy Birthday, Ringo.

It don't come easy,
You know it don't come easy.
It don't come easy,
You know it don't come easy.
Got to pay your dues if you wanna sing the blues,
And you know it don't come easy.
You don't have to shout or leap about,
You can even play them easy.
Forget about the past and all your sorrows,
The future won't last,
It will soon be over tomorrow.
I don't ask for much, i only want your trust,
And you know it don't come easy.
And this love of mine keeps growing all the time,
And you know it just ain't easy.
Open up your heart, let's come together,
Use a little love
And we will make it work out better.
Got to pay your dues if you wanna sing the blues,
And you know it don't come easy.
You don't have to shout or leap about,
You can even play them easy.
Peace, remember peace is how we make it,
Here within your reach
If you're big enough to take it.
I don't ask for much, i only want your trust,
And you know it don't come easy.
And this love of mine keeps growing all the time,
And you know it don't come easy.

(lyrics copyright Richard Starkey)

Epic Cooking Disasters

A conversation with my friend Kathleen brought memories of my worst-ever cooking accomplishments.

Since we were an "everybody works" family, I was the household cook from the time I was 11 until my mom stopped working when I was 16. Since my mom was a truly terrible cook, expectations were low when I began slinging the hash. Thankfully, the almost inedible was the usual fare and so there were few gripes or hard feelings expressed when I "discovered" how sausage was made or the icing stuck to one's teeth like Gorilla Glue.

Fanny Farmer was my first cooking instructor. Written for home cooks and very clearly explained, I somehow failed regularly to achieve anything near the illustrations or descriptions given. Much of my knowledge of how things cooked or what they looked like when served was from my mom's example and I seemed to be succeeding at making the beige, gray and army green dishes she'd put out all my life. But that's not what the cookbooks showed. There was also a huge discrepancy in cooking times. My mom put everything on the stove and in the oven at the same time and everything cooked for an hour or two- canned vegetables, potatoes and roasts all went on and all were out at once. But the cookbook said things cooked at all different times. I wrestled with this notion for several months. I'd never seen cooked meat any colors but blackish brown or gray before. Meat was a dry, leathery substance! Why do these pictures make it all look juicy and reddish pink? Hamburgers baked for an hour at 350'- what's this heresy of putting them in a pan on a burner? And gravy? You made that by scraping all the black stuff off of the bottom under the meat and adding watery cornstarch. Who puts spices and salt in it? What were spices anyway? Something foreigners used! We have salt and black pepper on the table and if that's not enough, tough shit.

Looking back, it's hard to believe we survived my cooking. The afore-mentioned sausages were hamburger patties I made with Thanksgiving stuffing mix by chance and baked til they were hockey pucks. The icing was for a 1st anniversary cake for my mom and stepdad, a boiled icing that hardened in the pot with the spoon stuck fast in it, which Mom threw out altogether with the flat single-layer salty brick of a cake I'd made from scratch (I cried over that). There was the baked cod, still in its box shape from the freezer and dehydrated to a crisp; the gluey mashed potatoes you had to scrape off the fork with your teeth; the chicken breasts that looked like those beak toning things in birdcages; egg noodles that disintegrated to paste when I stirred butter into them; the watery, mushy corn on the cob; the parchment paper-like roasted onions; the round steak that you had to chew for ten minutes; the pot roasts that fell to strings like shoelaces. And so it all went on our dining room table, the parade of Minute rice dishes being a novelty.

At some point my stepdad brought home dried herbs and spices and I got creative. Now everything was way overcooked but had flavors. Not good flavors, but flavors nonetheless. I began experimenting. Chicken with nutmeg and oregano. Meat loaf with cinnamon and mint. If my cooking couldn't match Fanny Farmer's, it would be original.

Then something happened that changed my life. I watched The Galloping Gourmet and The French Chef and became addicted. My dad bought me The French Chef Cookbook for Christmas (I still have that stained & beaten up copy). Since I'd already been cooking badly but fearlessly, it wasn't hard to pick up how to cook really well. My mom was pissy and critical at first, but nobody can bitch over good food for long. And the rest, as they say, is history.

So if cooking is not your forte, take heart. Keep doing it. Be fearless. If I did it, anyone can.

A Grand Week

This past week, a change came in the course of things. Good things happened for and around me. Since I think it's just as if not more important to cite these things, here they are:

The Deerfield Valley Cares folks granted me enough money to cover my power until the LIHEAP comes back.

The local Affordable Housing people gave me hope that it may not be long before I can move to a better, safer apartment.

Medicaid paid for my Medicare portion, meaning I won't be taking the financial hit after all and can pay my rent as usual.

My friend Christian Avard's interview with Gail Dines was picked up in several online columnists' commentary.

http://pulsemedia.org/2010/06/29/gail-dines-how-pornland-destroys-intimacy-and-hijacks-sexuality/

PAYT was voted down by a 2 to 1 margin.

My friend's neck surgery is healing and she is getting better. Slowly.

My old pal Jono came back into my life and he's doing well.

Nobody in my circle of friends and family had bad news, for once. At least nothing that hit us personally or so badlythat it can't be rebuilt. That in itself is a miracle.

So really, in the words of the late Mrs. Burke, "It was a grand week."
I'm going to leave it at that.

Happy Independence Day! May your hot dogs not be on the recall list!

Quick Quake & Other Passing News

We had the 3rd earthquake I've ever been thru on Weds. Quakes scare me. I couldn't live anywhere that they occurred regularly. This one was mild, part of the Ontario 5.0-5.5 (depending on when you heard the report). Laying in bed, resting my shoulder, I was reading and listening to a friend sit in as DJ for another friend's show. Then everything started swaying, like riding the R train thru the tunnel into Brooklyn, in a north-south direction. As always I was paralyzed, wondering if it really was an earthquake, but as the seconds went by and the rhythm kept up, I thought, "Maybe I should get up and stand in the doorway." Then it stopped, as they all have so far (knock wood) and it was over. Really, there'd be little chance of surviving a big quake in this huge brick building. Standing in a doorway or laying in bed wouldn't make a diff. If I'm gonna croak I'd rather be in bed.

The website we all rely on here in town was hacked by a bot claiming to be a Muslim. I believe that as much as I believe my landlord can't find anyone to sell him new air conditioners. Really, I'm fairly certain (with no evidence) that it was done by some Rovian who's trying to fearmonger. Happily, it wasn't long before the server was cleaned out & our iBrattleboro was back and running as usual.

PAYT is voted up or down on Tuesday. Gods help us all if it goes thru.

Money continues to be the stomach-churner in my life, and what's been taking up all my time and energy, keeping me from posting or working on my book. Medicare will cost me 110 bucks a month. Which comes right out of my SSDI. And will leave 53 dollars a month to pay bills, buy all non-food items and take those extravagant vacations I'm so famous for. Behind that, the yearly 600-buck energy grant has been declared for heat only, and the balance left by May was taken back without notice. So I owe 2 months' electricity already. It'll be okay. I may get an energy grant from a community fund, and my brother and a good friend-in-need have offered to help if that falls thru. As for the 110, that'll be reimbursed by Medicaid in the fall and thenceforth covered by them. So I'm shorting my landlord and I'll catch up when they reimburse me. That's the best I can do. All this tsuris takes a toll, though. I've seen a lot of the interior of my toilet this week.

Health issues continue to fill my family and closest friend's lives. But everyone's hanging in there and nobody died this week.

For someone who rarely leaves the house I have an active social life. Friends were in and outta here all week. The Princess came to town bearing bagels and bread from NYC! The "health bread" she brought from Zabar's is total heaven and I may cry when I eat the last slice. Stevil came by bearing cream cheese and we shared a nice lunch with the bagels and idle chatter. And Ellen came over for one of our catch up sessions, bringing a great pizza from the new-but-the-same-old Frankie's. Thank Gods Frankie's is back. That was a long 6 months! One song I could play to cover the last week-Ya Gotta Have Friends.

Also possible good news- affordable housing may be in my future. I don't wanna jinx it by blabbing too early but it looks good.

My walker finally came back fixed! Yay! No more pushing myself around this little place on an office chair!

So life goes on. The older I get and the more I live thru, I realize that happiness really is not having what you want, but wanting what you have.

Hope In the Younger Generation

My friend Daryl's daughter recently came back from a working trip to Tanzania, Africa. Chelsy is a college student and I've never met her, but I know her Dad, and he's amazing, so it wasn't a surprise to see what she's made:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h3wVwGU4JBI

I cried from the second minute in.

Then she posted a story on our local website:
http://www.ibrattleboro.com/article.php/20100624204132909

It's from that post that I take this list-
1. Be thankful for the small luxuries in life, like clean tap water, cement trucks, and the ability to choose (even if it's as simple as having an entire menu in your hands).

2. "If you give me rice, I will eat today. If you teach me how to grow rice, I will eat everyday." -Mahatma Ghandi. Helping others doesn't mean dropping off money and shaking hands. It means going the whole nine yards, picking up the hammer yourself, getting your hands a little dirty, breaking a sweat, planting a seed, watching it grow, teaching what you know, learning what others know, and building relationships.

3. America may not be paved with gold and over-flowing with cash, but we have extraordinary hospitals, doctors, nurses, police, scholarships, grocery stores, health care and free education. In the eyes of poverty, that's gold. Cherish all of it. Everyday.

4. A neighbor is more than just a person living next door. Personal relationships go a long way. Say "hi", smile back, be genuine, and know that when everything falls apart, you'll always have your neighbors.

5. "People are people. They are not mountains; they move around. This is how I know I will see you again." -My amazing friend Godfry from Tanzania. Never say goodbye.

6. It's amazing how well two people can communicate without even speaking the same language. Be open, aware, and observant. Your heart will grow ten times bigger.

7. Try to speak another language. It may not come out perfectly but it will be perfectly appreciated.

8. Respect your elders. Always.

9. Hug, holds hands, and make eye contact. The simplest forms of affection go a long way to somebody who didn't get it from their parents.

10. Be kind and never make assumptions--everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.

11. So your internet is too slow and your cell reception stinks? Go outside, take a good look around. There is so. much. more.

12. Listen to children, they know more than we think.

13. Education is the root to every solution. Absorb it, spread it, value it. Some people would die to have the education that we get for free.

14. Okay, so our government is a bit corrupt. And there's a constant tiff between the Dems and Repubs. But try to see the positive, because the corruption here is heaven compared to the corruption elsewhere.

15. Always have something beautiful in sight, even if it's just a flower in a mason jar.

16. Be patient. Clock time as we know it is completely artificial, don't become a slave of it. Relaxing and going with the flow will make you a happier person. I promise.

This young woman has changed my expectations of our youth. In my day to day life I see kids who are apathetic and ignorant, who don't want to face the world as it is (and who can blame them?). Then along comes Chelsy, with her truly beautiful video, crafted with so much love. She writes a simple straightforward accompanying post that shows more wisdom than most "adults" I know could muster. And I'm kinda awestruck. I could never have done this at her age. Not just because of the way the world was then, nor because of the fact that such things weren't possible then. But because I wasn't raised to hope for such things. Chelsy is a young woman with a lot of hope and love. I guess we can thank Daryl and Bridget for that, but it had to be in her to begin with. A seed will grow with care, and not in a vacuum,; but the seed needs to be there in the first place. I expect to hear great things about Chelsy for a long time to come.