Mom. Mother.

As Glen would say…it’s complicated. We are both at that age where our parents are in the last years, maybe months of their lives. And both of us only have our moms still “with” us.

I read Dorie Greenspan’s blog today. She’s a “culinary guru” according to the NYT and a James Beard award-winning cookbook author. She shared her memories of her mom related to food and cooking. It got me to thinking about my mom in those terms.

My sisters and I have long disparaged my mom’s cooking. Our memories are of meals that included a plate with beef, a vegetable, a potato and a green salad. The meat was always overcooked, the vegetables were frozen and boiled beyond recognition, the potato was baked and the salad might have had a few tomato pieces with the iceburg lettuce and ranch dressing. Now truth be told, this was as much a result of what my dad liked to eat as it was of what my mom liked to cook. It was a different era.

I remember that we NEVER had rice because my dad had eaten it with catsup three meals a day for weeks on end when he was at sea in the Pacific during WWII. “Ethnic” food meant spaghetti and ground beef and that was a treat! We might have had “pepper steak” which was sliced and sauteed round steak with green peppers and served on noodles. This would have been a meal for a Sunday dinner. We had a HUGE treat on Friday nights when my dad worked till 10:00 pm. There was a new McDonald’s around the corner and Mom would buy us each a 25 cent hamburger and fries for the four of us to share. (Thus for $1.25 she fed a family of four.) My sister Chris, says that we watched Rawhide while eating. That was living! (Chris may correct my memory of these much loved Fridays.) Since my dad worked late and we’d had our treat, my mom made my dad his favorite meal when he got home. It was white bread (think Weber’s) slathered with margarine and peanut butter served with a cup of hot cocoa made with Nestle’s powder. He ate this meal every Friday promptly at 10:30 pm. How he didn’t end up with horrible cholesterol, I’ll never know!

Dorie wrote about all the years that she tried to think of even ONE recipe that she got from her mom and she couldn’t think of a single one. She said her mom didn’t cook. She remembered that she served tv dinners like “she was serving us caviar”. (I have a similar recollection. I LOVED the salisbury steak tv dinner or a 10 cent Swanson’s chicken pot pie.) And then poof, one day she remembered…baked apples! Her mom made baked apples for her dad. Her story got me to thinking about my mom. What do I make that I learned from her?

My kids will tell you that a fried hamburger patty, mashed potatoes and a green vegetable is comfort food. I just try not to burn them all. Did I mention that my mom would open the bag of frozen green beans and put them in the pot on the stove with water? She’d turn on the stove and then become distracted until she smelled the burnt beans. We couldn’t afford to throw good food away so she’d pull out the sugar jar and sprinkle sugar on the beans and serve them with a shrug. I can’t eat green beans to this day.

But I digress…I have Mom’s recipe box. It’s full of clipped recipes that I don’t think she ever made. Or recipes carefully written with “Rose” or another friend’s name in the corner. I don’t think she made many of these recipes either. I do make Mom’s Hello Dolly cookies and I have that recipe that she got from the church youth group. They were perfect for her because she just had to open and layer the ingredients. I also make a version of her “tamale pie”. Again, her recipe involves buying frozen 10 cent tamales and layering them with corn and cheese and tomato sauce. I still don’t make beans. I do make rice, but I detest catsup. (Ask Niels about the time he got me a hot dog at an A’s game and put catsup on it. Poor kid is permanently scarred from that experience. It’s a bad-mom-moment story.) And as I am a daddy’s girl…I love peanut butter everything.

And finally, Glen’s mom was a great home cook so I’ll nudge him to write about his memories of his mom’s recipes. While my mom always wondered why her three daughters ended up being decent cooks, Glen absolutely gets his interest and skills from his mom… instead of in spite of her! I can’t wait to hear what my kids say about my cooking…or maybe not!

Mom. Mother. It’s so complicated!

True to my word…next post…photos.

Well – If you didn’t read the previous post (Glen’s) you should.

Weird. This blog writing thing is weird. There are times where I’m rolling ideas around in my head and I think…that could be interesting, at least to me. Then there are times when I think…I don’t have a cogent thought in my head or I don’t have anything meaningful to say. Maybe just some photos? Or…really? More drivel?

And I also think…is this a travelogue? A diary? A letter to myself and/or others?

I often think about purpose. When I retired I knew that I had to find purpose in my life. My career and motherhood had provided obvious opportunities to feel purposeful and fulfilled. Retirement created the need for me to seek purpose. We are lucky to be able to travel in this extended way. Yes, we worked hard, made our sacrifices, had our difficulties, and yet…this life is a privilege. (I’ve written about my conflict with this before.) I could easily fall into this life and live just for “me”. But that’s not me.

I’ve tried to stay away from politics on this blog, but as Glen alluded to in his previous post, I get a bit emotional (I like to think of it as passionate) about certain aspects of our political and societal circumstances. So here comes my politics. (I prefer to think of it as my philosophy of how humans should treat humans.) Trump provided me with plenty of purpose at the beginning of my retirement. I was all on board and very busy doing whatever I could to make sure that he was not re-elected. (And on a personal level, I also found great purpose in becoming healthier.) So I guess I’ll have to thank him for that transition to purpose without career or kids. In the ensuing year plus since Biden’s election (fair and legitimate, I might add), I have remained somewhat active in doing small things to make sure we actually have a democracy in our future.

And last night’s news rocked my world. Yes. I knew it was highly likely, but the reality of it hit me hard. And I’m emotional about it. I was one of those people who while not thrilled with the prospect of Hillary as president, I gladly voted for her over the alternative. AND THE EMAIL LADY WAS RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING. Also, YEARS ago, (pre-Trump), I remember Glen commenting that the real danger to our democracy and to our constitutional rights came with the Supreme Court being commandeered by the Republican Party (via the Federalist Society, et. al.). I poo-pooed the idea. Well. He was right. And here we are.

So purpose? I am ALL in. I will be texting. I will be writing. I will be calling. I will be marching and I will be doing whatever else I can to elect people across the country who do believe in science. Who do believe that we need some common sense gun laws. Who do believe that voting rights are essential to a democracy. Who do believe that women should have autonomy over their own bodies and their own lives. I remember being questioned years ago about being a “one issue” voter – meaning abortion rights – and I may have had that at the top of my priority list then. I have taken it for granted for these last many years that that right was a given. Well, I may be a “one issue” voter again. Okay – maybe three issues – sensible gun safety is right up there with voting rights and abortion rights.

But I digress…back to the news from last night. I have family members who have had abortions. I have friends who have had abortions. I drove a friend to her abortion appointment in the early 80s. That is their business. Not mine. Not the government’s nor the court’s. My sister told me that my mom told her that when she was 43, she was terrified that she was pregnant and of what that would do to her and her family. She would not have had the option of doing what she felt was best for us all. That’s when she understood that abortion rights are essential. (And she remains a staunch Reagan Republican.) I became a teenager at a time when abortions first became legal. I never lived with the fear of becoming pregnant and not having autonomy over my life. I didn’t live in a time when women couldn’t open their own credit or bank accounts. I have two credit cards that I’ve had since before I met Glen. There have been times over the years when he has suggested that we really didn’t need them, that we don’t use them. I argued that they were in my name, they were mine and I wasn’t going to close them. (So far, so good!) My career was highly female so I didn’t experience discrimination professionally. I have been fortunate NOT to experience a life in which I had little say in my life.

I can’t imagine going back to a time where as a woman, my freedoms, my choices, my autonomy would be challenged by the courts. So yes. I’m emotional. I”m angry AND I’m focused. And perhaps, that’s a female thing. Perhaps it’s a “woke” thing. Perhaps it’s a “liberal” thing. (I wear all those titles proudly.) But as I’m always looking for purpose…I’ll have to thank my country and the GOP. I am fired up and that’s not always pretty. But it is purposeful.

PS New Orleans photos tomorrow?

First, this post is not going to be for everyone. AND I’m asking you to come along with me, for the ride. It may be way too close to man-splaining – AND I WILL TAKE THAT RISK.

AND Second, JDT will see the title of this post and it may trigger her. Hah, it will trigger her. We stated very early in our posts we are learning to be Joyce-Glen again, or perhaps for the first time. A lot of good news, we are fighting or bickering or just being a pain in the ass to each other much less. AND when it does happen (as did briefly this AM) it is much more vitriolic. I sense this to be normal?

AND Third, why am I doing this? No, it is not to change your mind. There is way too much of this in our culture. I want to share my perspective, AND GAIN YOURS. PLEASE! You know I grew up in a high octane family where emotion in argument became PUNISHED. This has helped me (no not in the way you imagine) and it causes me issues in my communications with those I love. I think they see me as without emotion. A REALLY HORRIBLE THING. I was watching the TNT on NBA the other night. Chuck said something I will now use. He attributed it to Nick Saban. Mind you, Chuck is Auburn, Nick is Mama. So, no built in love. He said, and I will paraphrase his paraphrase – You must play with emotion, not emotional. Stupid football, how could sports teach me another lesson? DAMN!!

Shortly (60ish days or so) after I wrapped up treatment for my cancer, I was struggling with getting “better” and it was a dark, very dark period for me emotionally. I rationally knew (Dr. Yom told me) I would get worse for maybe 30ish days as the accumulation of chemo and radiation did its work (remember, the point of them is to kill the cancer, yet leave the surrounding tissue (me) alive). Then I would begin to get better. AND it was at this darkest time for me, during the nights while I tried to sleep, that I had thoughts. Initially I thought about death. Then I began to think about causing my death. I played out how I would tell Joyce and Niels and Blair. I thought about the “best ways”. Then I finally fantasized about carrying out my suicide. Let’s just say it was a really hard time for me. AND I CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW HARD IT WAS FOR JOYCE AND NIELS AND BLAIR. Finally, after one mostly sleepless night, I opened up to Joyce. And, as always, Joyce was incredibly thoughtful, held me close and we called Katherine Czezack together. Dr. Czezack had been my therapist, yes psychiatrist, when I needed guidance dealing with anger. She is wonderful. AND she was again. She gave me ways, specific body and mind techniques, to embrace, accept, re-shape and yes, even LOVE the emotions. Embrace the emotions, don’t live emotionally. I have made progress with this, and with all things, it is a PROCESS.

Joyce was just about to take Dug for a walk this morning. AND she looked at her phone and made a brief agonizing quip. Seems something came over her phone about the current SHIT with Roe V. Wade. Nothing in her life triggers her emotional state like this. I’ve come to realize this is her version of our society committing suicide. Not a single person, little me, but our whole society. SO MUCH BIGGER. And I am the pedestrian to Joyce’s traveler. As always, I brought my play with emotion, not emotional self. Satisfying, even hopeful for me, yet complete BULLSHIT for Joyce.

Joyce, I am sorry. I AM WORKING AT BEING BETTER.

Ya’all know that we went to the NOLA Jazz & Heritage Festival this past Friday through Sunday. So many emotions washed over me during that three day experience. I certainly haven’t taken it all in yet, AND I hope I’ll continue to let it settle.

Like much of the South, it is all about pace. In order to be in harmony here, I believe one needs to learn to slow down and take it as it comes. Many people, me likeliest to be included, struggle and perceive this as less. I’m now learning it isn’t less. AND it isn’t more. It is just different. No JUDGEMENT.

We wrapped up our three days early Sunday evening. After two days of experimenting, taking it in and learning what we could, we created a plan for day three – Sunday. In talking with fellow festivalers, we learned that Jazz Fest builds and peaks. WOW, that was the case Sunday evening. AGAIN, the pace thing. Friday was really mellow! And try as CeeLo Green and Lionel Richie might, there just wasn’t any of my past experiences with THE festival like experiences. In the 70s and 80s I attended soooo many Days on the Green at the Oakland Coliseum. Each of those (Led Zeppelin, Eagles, The Clash, The Who, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Tower of Power, and yes even Peter Frampton, to name but a few) brought their own unique “energy”. Even into Saturday, with disparate acts like The Soul Rebels and Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit. Side note, try as I might, I just don’t get the Country thing. It rained (a real gully washer) Sunday morning – a good sign. Our plan, leave our place at 12:30 and arrive just before the 2:00 show at Festival Stage. Well, this is a terrific time to travel and enter Jazz Fest. Accordingly we got there right at 1:15, which was just before halfway through Cowboy Mouth – a very high energy, wonderful NOLA based live act. AND the feeling was just different. I was beginning to get excited. A short intermission later led to Anders Osborne – another NOLA based, terrific musician. While not the same showman as Fred Leblanc – Cowboy Mouth, the music was hard driving and soulful. Another intermission (these are things you learn to enjoy) and on came Dumpstaphunk. I have such joy associated with the Neville Brothers in the early 80s. So soulful and THE real NOLA sound. Well, the lead man of Dumpstaphunk is Ivan Neville – son of Aaron Neville. Go ahead Wikipedia him. You’ll see his image and say, “Oh yeah, I know him.” At least you will if you listened to any of this genre in the late 70s and 80s. He’s a founding member and “voice” of the Neville Brothers – so soulful. DUMPSTAPHUNK WAS AMAZING. To me it is the best of the NOLA sound, at least of the 1990s and 2000s. Incredible musicians. Incredible funk! AND they were the “warm up” (and my how they warmed up the crowd) for Red Hot Chili Peppers. I was really curious how this would go over. Yes, at their best they are a funk band. I fell in love with them through Blood Sugar Sex Magic. Yet, they are not a NOLA band. They are quintessential LA. No, not Louisiana, Los Angeles. Not to worry.

My approach (a bit less Joyce’s) was to sit in the bougie Big Chief seats. First, they were seats. Second, they were in a covered area up a bit that exposed us to the most glorious cooling breeze. My days in the 70s and 80s of moshing it up in front of the stage are well behind me. It is unfortunate, true, sad and frankly the way I as a recently 64 year-old man am not able behave any longer. However, half way into intermission I asked Joyce if it was OK if I went exploring. She gave me a bit of a sideways glance and said sure. So, I spent the next ten minutes traversing about 100 to 150 feet and realized, at about 200 feet from the stage I was going to struggle to get much closer. Sooo, I turned around and went back to the safety of my bougie seat. Me and about 1,000 of my closest friends. I told myself to imagine being in Cabo’s (a really small 200 seat wonderful music venue in late 70s Chico) 25 feet from Tower of Power. AND, it mostly worked.

RHCP’s opening song was quite appropriate – Can’t Stop. It speaks to transformation. Like many artists of the 80s, Anthony is a recovering heroin addict. Blood Sugar Sex Magic was created as he was coming out of a relationship he destroyed with his drug use and his “final stages” of his long struggle with rehab. AND Anthony, Flea and Chad are just turning 60. That in itself is a huge transformation. They and Ivan Neville and me and Joyce are all about the same age. It is impossible not to see and thoroughly appreciate the incredible energy they bring to RHCP shows.

Part, I believe at least 50%, of a great show is the audience. RHCP had that audience in the palm of their hands. I’ve seen it maybe a half dozen times, but not since the 80s. Those shows (The Clash, Led Zeppelin, Lynyrd Skynyrd, etc.) left something with me that wasn’t experienced again until this show. Thank you RHCP!

RHCP closed the show with Give It Away – again an appropriate theme for the festival. A huge part of Jazz Fest was the environment of gratitude AND giving. Each and every performer spoke to the moment. Their approaches were individual and unique, AND each spoke to how great it was to be back after two years of cancellations due to COVID-19. Anders Osborne said “I have been invited for 32 straight years.” Amen!

AND . . . the encore was Under The Bridge. I believe it to be the best song ever about LA. Its’ “anthem”. It purportedly is Antony’s love song to los Angeles. Remember, love is complicated. (RHCP also wrote and perform Californication.) I have my own complicated relationship with the Southern California basin. I got married there and it birthed my wife. I spent 5 years living there and learning to “hate it”. My son was born there. Just complicated! So, while I was incredibly inspired by Flea (as he came out for the encore he did a handstand, “walked” across the stage and held it for a good 30 seconds.), Ivan and Anthony, I was also moved by Jazz Fest in that life is precious and to be grateful for all of our blessings.

And, to Give it Away (NOW!)

I was going to make that title end with a question mark, but decided that it was an exclamation!

Ended my day in the Nelly mosh pit! That was fun and yes, …”must be the money” was a sing along even by me!

And while never too old…also never too young!

Day 3 tomorrow! Bring on The Red Hot Chili Peppers!

One and done! Success!

We knew that it could be overwhelming. We knew it would be hot. We knew that our patience with each other isn’t always stellar. We knew that we have differing music interests. We knew that we have different tolerances for crowds, standing, sitting, walking, heat, etc. etc. Guess how we did it?

To start, careful planning by Glen. Meaning that he bought the “bougie” tickets that offered some perks. (I’m going to let Glen share the details.) And shuttle tickets so we didn’t have to figure out transportation. And he perused the schedule pretty thoroughly. (I think there are 8 stages with music on each stage from 11:00-7:00.) We got the hot tip from my cousin, Randy that we could search Spotify by “Jazz Fest Weekend 1” to listen to the artists so we could choose new music to check out.

While at the festival, I did some wandering alone. Glen did some extra Blues Tent time (win-win – shade and music he loves). We ended our day in shaded seats with performances by people that Glen was probably not so interested in seeing, but the draw of shade made it worth it. The artists were CeeLo Green followed by Lionel Ritchie. Neither of them have been on our “must see” list though I have a soft spot for Lionel because I’m still a die hard American Idol fan. (Don’t judge me. I LOVE that show!) I probably gained a little more respect for CeeLo and let’s just say that we missed Lionel by 40 years, but he can still entertain and he clearly loves what he does. There is a reason that the Jazz Fest is sponsored by AARP!

Finally, the really the big ticket to our success? We gave ourselves permission to go for the marathon, not the sprint.

Day 2 tomorrow!

PS Bonus win! At the end of our day, our bus driver was kind enough to drop is off at the end of our street – saving us a final 1/4 mile of a walk at the end of a long day.

PPS I didn’t edit the photos. Too tired. More to come…

Just a quick note to say that we are on a school bus (oh the memories) on our way to the Jazz Fest. This has been something that Glen has wanted to do for years. Here we go!

I think I get it?!?

Back shortly after I turned 60 I was “introduced” to European Soccer, what I’ve come to call footie. By introduced, I mean a dear friend (Todd) encouraged me to explore “the beautiful game”. Mind you, from some, perhaps many perspectives I am an over saturated sports fan. I’ve posted previously about my love for baseball. AND one of the things I have always loved about baseball is the pace. (I’m sure I am likely to post about that in some future musing.) I had attempted soccer many times before (World Cup, Olympics, CONCACAF, etc.). But it just never “clicked” for me. It was always too boring, too slow, too ?

Then in 2018 it clicked. Why? Well, I have thought about that a lot. Was it my entry point – UK (PL) and Europe? Was it America’s and Americans’ growing influence (FSG and LFC, etc.)? Was it a new client in Liverpool that I was able to share an amazing experience at Anfield? Was it the grand stadiums of Europe (Anfield, Wembley, Old Trafford)? Was it an away experience sitting (hardly!) in the LFC supporter section at Selhurst Park? Was it the complexity / intricacies of the business models (FFP, etc.) of PL footie? Sure, each of these provided significant connecting points. But not quite “it”.

Over the course of yesterday through next Wednesday occurs the two-legged (home and away) ties that are the Champions League semi-finals. (If you are not familiar with CL footie, I HIGHLY recommend.) Yesterday was the first leg of the Man City – Real Madrid tie. WHAT A MATCH!! Amazing, open, “hair on fire” footie. I woke up early and watched the replay. AND after I was on my phone and came across an article in F365 – Football’s Greatest Fear and Greatest Strength is Chaos. The article went into depth about footie and chaos and our desire, or even need, to have control. Hmmmmm?

I have learned during my health journeys that control is fleeting. What I like to say is, control is an illusion. I believe this to be one of the great struggles between our ego (conscious mind) and our subconscious. While ego wants nothing more than control, or status quo, I believe our subconscious is more accepting of the randomness of the universe. And, mind you, I am a planner. AND planning at its highest level is nothing more than the ultimate in attaining control. OR so I used to think.

My side is Liverpool. One of the biggest reasons I support the side is Jurgen Klopp. In all my 64 years as a sports fan (yes, I think I was born this way), I believe him to be the best man manager I have ever witnessed. The teams I’ve supported have had brilliant man managers (John Madden, Al Attles, Steve Kerr, Bob Melvin, Nick Saban – to name a few of my favorites). At its highest level, footie is organized chaos. I would love to sit down with JK and ask him about chaos and control. I am 100% certain he would expand my perspective. And not just about footie, but about life.

So, I think I finally get my passion for footie. It reassures me that yes, life is chaos. AND at its highest levels it is organized chaos.

Go Reds!!