How Can I Get So Emotional???????

Down side risk of technology.

The loss of your cellphone.   A 4 year friend, left in the women's toilet at the Arena during the finals of Women's March Madness.

                                                               The dearly departed




I didn't trust Google when I started with the phone in 2011.  I wasn't going to give them my location, my contacts, my photos.   So I didn't back them up.

And now, they are gone.  I am bereft.  Literally.   Today, a day of trying to recover, was totally sad for me.   There were one of a kind pictures I never stored anywhere else.   There are phone numbers from people who used to work with me...my only remaining link to them.  Crummy.  

And my silly, often sentimental chains of text messages.   How I will miss them.

I have a new Galaxy 4 Notebook.  I gave up hope after 12 hours with no phone.   It is wonderful, I'm sure.   But it will take about 15 hours of downloading to recapture all my tunes from the Amazon cloud. 

So, send me a text message.   Or a photo I once sent you.  That way I can recover them. 

Silly, isn't it?  How much we value our phones.   Just possessions........

My good son decided to send me my first phone pic.  A new one, not one I have resurrected.   But it IS her first time in a chair.   Gracie....

Emmylou and Me

From the press:

It'll be a night to remember for Harris fans in Florida, where she has rarely scheduled concert dates in an esteemed country-music career that began in the early 1970s.
"Listen, it's not me," Harris said with a gentle laugh in a phone interview from her home base in Nashville, Tenn. "I don't know why we don't get booked down there. It's not that far and it's a good bus trip. This time, we're coming off a working cruise [Grammy Festival at Sea] and we land in Miami, so why not do a few shows on the way up?"
A 13-time Grammy Award winner, Harris has consistently blended country elements with different styles, starting with her association with Florida-bred country-rock pioneer Gram Parsons in the 1970s.
Her 1975 major label debut, "Pieces of the Sky," featured covers of the Beatles ("For No One"); country icon Merle Haggard ("Tonight the Bottle Let Me Down"); and traditionalist duo the Louvin Brothers ("If I Could Only Win Your Love").

 

She later recorded bluegrass-flavored albums, a well-received 1987 pop collaboration with Dolly Parton and Linda Ronstadt and the genre-bending "Wrecking Ball," a moody 1995 release produced by Daniel Lanois (U2, Peter Gabriel). The latter was ignored by country radio stations as it earned Harris followers among alternative-rock fans.

In recent years, that affinity for a variety of musical styles made Harris one of the most visible ambassadors for the emerging Americana genre, an umbrella category that embraces country, rock and roots music.
In keeping with her stature as one of the most revered singers in the music business, Harris, 67, performs almost exclusively in the nation's most beautiful concert halls. Her Florida swing, for instance, also includes a stop at the historic Tampa Theatre, a 1926 building with an interior designed as a Mediterranean courtyard.

No matter how striking the architecture, Harris has another yardstick for any performance hall:
"It's nice that it looks nice, but the only thing that matters is that it sounds good," Harris says. "It's funny how in the old theaters, I've never, never had a bad sonic experience. I don't know why. The new buildings are nice, too. If I have an audience that's into what I'm doing, I'm a happy girl."

From The Tampa Bay Times:

"Believe it or not, there are even critics who say that her voice isn't quite what it used to be.
At this point, the last of those shallow criticisms is on par with some schmuck giving Jesus a hard time for turning water into a house chianti instead of a 1969 Bordeaux. Ask anyone inside the Tampa Theatre Wednesday night, and they’ll tell you -- Emmylou Harris still has it. In fact, she probably has plenty more of it to go around. "

From Lynne Quido, Emmylou fan extraordinaire:

Wednesday night, November 12 was one of those heartbeat nights you have every now and then.  Something you're doing brings back a wave of nostalgia that sweeps over you like the ocean and you find yourself lost in the wonder of this thing we call life.

Emmylou Harris doesn't have the voice she used to.  Probably because you can have an extraordinary voice at the age of 26 and then life sets in and does what it does to your body, to your voice.   Probly about the time of the watershed "Wrecking Ball" album (yes, Miley Cyrus stole the name from her)... which arrived on the scene in 1995, Emmylou's strategy has been to replace that incredible, ethereal voice by backing it as it began to change with what one writer called "her formula has been to match a crack crew of left-of-center country players with an assortment of tasteful tunes".

I first saw her in 1975 with my best friend and roommate, another EH devotee, at St. Paul's Orpheum theater.   It was in November, I believe, and we were recent country converts and stayed to see her, since we'd worn out her "Pieces of the Sky" album...one Friday night.   We were supposed to drive 175 miles home that night, and we did, but we forsook decent weather for the concert, and when we came out, we faced a nailbiting trip in a hail of hard snow.   My dad met me at 4 a.m., when the 3 hour trip had turned into 5 hours, and boy was he mad.   "You stay and take a terrible risk on getting lost or getting in an accident, and for what...some long haired hippie chick in a fringed suede jacket!  What were you thinking?"

I changed my dad's mind at Christmas time when I gave him all 3 of her albums and he, in turn, wore out the vinyl listening to what he admitted was the best female voice of his time...even forsaking Patsy Cline.  He became an ardent fan.

(I did see Emmylou again, fleetingly, at the 1998 New Orleans jazz festival.)

But Wednesday night, in the Tampa Theatre, where she breezed through 20 of her songs and changed guitars about 13 times, was incredibly bitter sweet.   My best friend this time was not a fan, but enjoyed herself.   The audience was incredibly old (but still tappin' and clappin') and the beautiful theater was packed and once again, yielded the best sound money could buy.   The funky, old Emmylou once again had a crack team of musicians and she adds some funky instrument each tour...this time, the accordion!  Yes, the accordion.  The lead guitar player, from Australia, sounded as good as the young Eric Clapton.  I sung along to the 6 old songs she played and enjoyed the music from her last 3 albums, which I don't own or have memorized.  She hit Lucinda Williams ... "Sweet Old World", "Save the Last Dance for Me", and my all time favorite was her encore...
"Boulder to Birmingham".  If you have not heard it, pull it up and listen.   Probably one of the most beautiful heartbreak songs of our times, and you'll hear what I heard in the 70's.

It's the last time I'll probably see Emmylou.   She'll give up touring (she's 66) at some point and just write and pursue her work on rescue animals.  I'll save my meager concert dollars to see someone of significance (last year, the Eagles...the year before Smokey Robinson) who means a lot to me once a year.  I'm on my once a year farewell tour of concerts, you might say. 

But Wednesday would have been my dad's 95th birthday.   And somehow, it felt like he was there with me.  What a night!!!

My day ahead looms with wide margins.....

WIDE MARGINS  ....   Maya Stein

I woke, out of nowhere, at that odd hour that directs your attention to the thinnest sounds -
the drone of a small plane passing overhead, the first conversation of birds carving out
their breakfast nooks, the sigh of the sheets beneath, breath threading the lungs.
Sometimes, the whole world narrows into single, sharp focus, and the usual,
missable nuances erupt out of the forgotten corners. If you are willing, you will remain, patient,
as the unfolding continues, the very air humming with a thousand new songs.
If you are willing, you will understand all of this has been waiting for you, and will birth itself
over and over again in the inopportune but porous stretches of sleeplessness.
The day is full of wide margins. It isn't just your usefulness that matters, but how you occupy
the spaces that hold no shape or consequence. There is room enough for you, too. Listen.

Poetry Challenge - Big Tent Poetry #1

I had a rough time with this challenge from "Big Tent" Poetry initially (link to them below for more information!). The use of all the unrelated words above, while telling a story...it initially seemed too artificial. Suddenly, a family scene from the 80's came back to me, and the words just flowed.....I hope you like it.

Parting With Her, Parting With Memories

The dock was littered with debris
A temporary resting place for the cabin’s
Furnishings; we children and grandchildren
Swarm to see the cabin for the last time.

So many memories of good times here
We embellish the good times and forget
The difficulty of parting with her things and
The inevitable arguments over ownership rights.

There is evidence that the space was much loved
Louisa’s child clings to her skirt while she weeps
Over the loss of the blue vase, shattered
A temporary reaction to the real loss of our grandmother.

The half-eaten remains of our breakfast
Cover the trestle table on the porch
Who will have the backbone to sweep them away,
Concluding our last meal here?

It is just property. We had no other answer
but to sell. Someone else’s family will enjoy it.
And yet, I chant silently as I walk away
“We’ll be back next summer, gram!”


http://bigtentpoetry.org/

Movie Review.... Eat Pray Love.... Don't Go Hungry

Unlike most of my friends, I was not a big fan of Elizabeth Gilbert’s mega-hit novel about self-discovery, “Eat Pray Love”. I found Gilbert’s writing to be self-indulgent and sort of doubted the authenticity of her tale.

Needing a little self-indulgence myself on Friday, I set out to see the film on its first day in wide release. I’ll admit to seeing a half dozen or so romantic comedies a year, but it is definitely not a favorite genre. I’ve liked a lot of Julia Roberts’ work, and I wasn’t sure if she would be able to sell a movie as a lead again, after her long absence from the screen.

What did I think? Well, “Eat Pray Love” is way too long. At two hours and 20 minutes, a film has to be more than the sum of its parts to be memorable. “Eat Pray Love” is not. We’re never really convinced why Roberts as Gilbert needs to indulge in a year off to travel the globe, and to go to the three specific places she visits. We know she wants to go back to Bali to meet again with an elderly spiritual adviser she meets there at the start of the film. We know she decides to go to an ashram in India to follow the teachings of a spiritual leader her vacuous post-divorce lover (James Franco; wasting his considerable skills)followed. Unfortunately, Franco was totaling uninteresting and not believeable as a man that Roberts as Gilbert could really care for. Her character doesn't even seem to be particularly taken with the vocation of his particular ashram. We know she decides to go to Italy because, well, if given the chance, wouldn’t we all go?

Along the way, the solo Roberts as Gilbert (from now on, I’ll just say “Liz”)meets many and makes friends in every venue. During the journey, the crystallized reason for my enjoyment makes itself known at several turns…all involve touching small moments of friendship shared between Liz and someone who has come to mean a lot to her. It goes without saying that I go to see tear-jerker movies (my latest was the schmaltzy and wonderful “Letters to Juliet”), but they play and prey on their audience. Far more enjoyable are the movies which are subtle enough to create a lump in your throat, have your eyes well up, but allow you to flow through the moment on to the next scene. There are several times in the film that this happened to me, and those moments (and the cinematography and the incredible soundtrack) make me happy that I plunked down my $9.50.

Liz celebrates Thanksgiving with her adopted friends in Italy. As the dinner nears, it is discovered that the friend in charge of the turkey had not even defrosted it. The group enjoys the rest of the dinner, enjoys immensely the time they spend together, and then all nap through the night while the turkey cooks… waking in time to have it for breakfast. The scene where the camera pans across all the guests in “group nap” are charming, the reveal of the reason they stayed, the turkey, is one of those small chuckles and moments where you really feel the characters, because you have known people in your life who would have done exactly that with you.

In India, Liz participates as a spectator at an arranged marriage between a young girl and her groom. During the ceremony, she pans back to her own wedding day, a wedding to Stephen (Billy Crudup) that ended in disaster when she abruptly determined that she could no longer pretend that she was happy with him, while pretending that their life together was enough for her. It wasn’t. The poignancy of Liz’ memories is when she imagines that they dance to the song that SHOULD have played at their wedding reception (the song that did play gives us another totally charming flashback, perhaps Crudup’s only likeable moment in the movie). Into the mix comes the first 8 bars of “Harvest Moon”, the ethereal love song that instantly makes you realize that Neil Young is a genius. I’m instantly transported by Young’s imagery, and the lump comes back into my throat. I try hard to match my own memories of Harvest Moon with the dancing scene between Crudup and Roberts, but my own memories are more tangible and more connected to the song than the scene on film. However, the moment stands out as a reason for me to watch the film on DVD, and also wakes me up to how extraordinary the soundtrack is; with two songs by Young, two by Eddie Vedder and some delicious Brazilian jazz, it is unforgettable.

Also in India, the movie’s best character, Richard from Texas (Richard Jenkins) makes an appearance, and from the casual nickname he gives Liz (based on her habit of eating everything in sight), “Groceries” , to the poignant scene in which he discloses the family tragedy that brought him on his own quest to India, Jenkins adds a friendship for Liz that feels more real than any that come first or follow later. Every scene that Jenkins is in is absorbing; you are left somewhat flat when he leaves and Liz is still in India, and you find yourself asking…why? Jenkins, a revelation in his role in the popular cable series, Six Feet Under, and a revelation as Theron’s father in the bleak “North Country”, has been wasting away, waiting for Hollywood to rediscover him. Looks like that wait is over.

On to Bali, where the movie gets its biggest appeal; Javier Bardem as Felipe joins the film and finally Liz’s quest doesn’t seem so silly anymore. There is real chemistry between Roberts and Bardem, and the romance is so delicious that the lumps are back in my throat again. Also hard to beat are Bardem's moments on the phone and in person with the young actor who plays his son. His joy and sadness are so real. Liz’s crusade to help a destitute mother in Bali by gathering donations from America also threatens to unravel me. Bali is so beautiful, Liz becomes so much more believable there, that the infinite 1.5 hours it took to get to this point don’t matter so much anymore.

And as the film wraps, I realize that, despite the harsh criticism from others, I appreciated Roberts’ craft, her ability to capture you with facial expression, some of the supporting players, the beauty of her stops in the world, and the quirky soundtrack, far more than I ever enjoyed the book. Screenwriters Jennifer Salt and Ryan Murphy (who directed; also from “Glee”, “Nip Tuck” and “Running With Scissors”) may have left the audience stranded and muddled for long stretches, but they did manage to eke out a film that, in a way, was entirely satisfying, since I knew what I was getting into before I went.

3 Stars. Worth a Look.