Happy New Year....Seriously!

In a tarot deck, the Death card is surely the most misunderstood. When one draws this card, there is a tendency on the part of most folks to freak out a little, based simply upon the way they conceptualize death.

This morning, when I did my morning drawing of the cards, this was the card I drew. And you know what? I was excited! This is why…

“Here we see the face of our deepest fear - our greatest unknown. We recoil from Death because we think of it as annihilation. In the tarot (and in life I would suggest) Death is not a permanent end, but a transition into a new state. Life is eternal in its essence, if not in its form. To grow, to move, to live - we must "die" to the old to give birth to the new.

It is a truism in tarot work that Card 13 rarely has anything to do with physical death. A responsible card reader never interprets Card 13 in this way because this view is too limiting. Death is not something that happens once to our bodies. It happens continually, at many levels and not just in the physical. Each moment we die to the present so the future can unfold.

In readings, Death often represents an important ending that will initiate great change. It signals the end of an era; a moment when a door is closing. At such times, there may be sadness and reluctance, but also relief and a sense of completion. Death also suggests getting down to basics. Dying has a way of making you concentrate on what's important. This card reminds you to cut out the unnecessary. Death can also mean you will experience an inexorable force. Death is inevitable, and sometimes there are events that are inescapable as well. When these moments occur, the best approach is to ride your fate and see where it takes you.”

I don’t know about you, but this has been a year to remind of constant reminders that I am not driving this bus; a year of daily reminders of the things that are most important. This past year has been a bitch for virtually everyone I know. It’s been a time of systematic “tearing down” for friends and family; for the whole country and the world at large. But the great thing is that we get to rebuild, and when our old structure no longer works, it's nice to think about considering a radical new set of blueprints.

My New Year's wish 2009 is this: Let this be the year you meet each challenge with your chin up and your eyes on the horizon, and hope rather than fear. That you were take each bit of adversity thrown at you, turn it over in your heart and in your mind, absorb the lesson(s) presented to you; and then you pass it on. Perhaps in doing so, you’ll smooth the path for someone else.

Me? Think this will be a good year. I am embracing the image of the scythe and the rose.

The Christmas Truce of 1914

It's Christmas Eve; we are safe and warm in our homes, hopefully in the embrace of loved ones. My prayer for today is that somewhere on our troubled planet, someone's heart will be made lighter by a gesture of peace by another.

"Friday, January 8th, 1915: A Christmas Day Scene

Rifleman J. Reading, writing to his wife, Mrs. Reading, of Germain Street, (Chesham) refers to the fact that the English and Germans fraternised on Christmas day.

Referring to the Christmas fraternising he says: "I hope you all had a merry Christmas; let me tell you how I spent mine. My company happened to be in the firing line on Christmas eve, and it was my turn - with a non-commissioned officer and four others - to go into a ruined house and remain there until 6.30 on Christmas morning. During the early part of the morning the Germans started singing and shouting, all in good English. They shouted out: "Are you the Rifle Brigade; have you a spare bottle; if so we will come half way and you come the other half." At 4 a.m part of their Band played some Christmas carols and "God save the King", and "Home Sweet Home." You could guess our feelings. Later on in the day they came towards us, and our chaps went out to meet them. Of course neither of us had any rifles. I shook hands with some of them, and they gave us cigarettes and cigars. We did not fire that day, and everything was so quiet that it seemed like a dream. We took advantage of the quiet day and brought our dead in."

As far as I know, nothing like the Christmas Truce of 1914 has taken place since. And there is a wonderful group in the UK who has put out the call for letters, some of which can be found here. The most spectacular is what is known as the Heath Letter; it tells an amazing story, and serves as a reminder that we all want the same things in life, we just have to remind ourselves that the other guy does too.

I first became aware of the Christmas Truce via Garth Brooks "Belleau Wood", and I weep every time I hear it. Given that we're still firmly entrenched in Iraq and Afghanistan, I think it's appropriate here. So when you wish friends and family a Merry Christmas, maybe you'll whisper a silent holiday wish for those far from home.

Take it away Garth!

Last Time I Checked, This Was Illegal

The last thing I need is to get all riled up and cranky first thing in the morning...but this nonsense just about made my hair catch fire. Naturally, I have to rant.

Dennis Prager, radio talk show host, columnist, author, ethicist, and public speaker; in his recent Town Hall publication set out to remind the fellas just how powerful their "package" can be - and just how foolish we ladies are for not falling to our knees and worshiping said package "When A Woman Isn't In The Mood." And yes, that really is the title of the article. But I'm not going to turn this into a "marital rape is illegal" rant. We're all smart enough to know that no means no, even when the parties are bound to each other legally.

"A husband knows that his wife loves him first and foremost by her willingness to give her body to him. This is rarely the case for women. Few women know their husband loves them because he gives her his body (the idea sounds almost funny). This is, therefore, usually a revelation to a woman. Many women think men's natures are similar to theirs, and this is so different from a woman's nature, that few women know this about men unless told about it."

I must say, that was all a revelation to me.

Now I will be the first person to admit that men and women have communication issues. I have often said that it's a wonder that humans have been able to continue as a species, as it's like mating cats and dogs. We barely speak the same language and yet we're driven by the desire to mate, and if Mr. Prager is to be interpreted correctly, mate often. Oh...wait...I have that wrong. Only the MEN get to mate often. Apparently we ladies are just too delicate to comprehend how difficult it must be to walk around with a Ford 427 Cammer engine tucked in their pants, and if we know what's good for us, we won't upset the delicate balance of that fine tuned machine.

There are several instances in the article in which Mr. Prager reminds the reader that more often than not, a woman is clueless about her man. He's such a mystery; such a mass of complexity, that we're really not equipped to handle it. The only solution is to submit. Just give in.
You know you want to.

Well...here's the thing. I'll happily "submit"; hell I'll willingly throw down... when the fellas understand that our engines are built for comfort, for long, lazy road tips. We don't need horsepower and torque. We just need someone who knows how to shift our gears, when to let it idle, and when to let it rev.

Stereotypes...

Stereotypes are funny things. They (hopefully) inspire dialogue in some cases, hide ill will in others; often they are shrouded in humor. What makes them interesting is when the private perpetuation of a stereotype is suddenly thrust in our faces in a loud and public way.

In every subculture we have our own private way of parodying our identity, and I believe that those who would deny that are fooling themselves. My beloved Psycho Mike at The World Famous KROQ, the master of parody, has gifted us with yet another topic of discussion. You will either be mightily offended....or you will nearly wet your pants laughing, as I did.

Grape Soda.wav

Happy Holidays...and let me borrow that top!

This Christmas feels a little different. I don't know about you, but I'm just not feeling it. Times are tough for everyone I know, the country is reeling from any number of blows; the world is wary.

The next few years are going to be even tougher; but maybe this will teach us that we need to be gentle with each other. Perhaps in doing so, we will learn to be gentle with ourselves.

So to the people I love, and the folks who may be reading this that I don't know (and love anyway)...Merry ChristmaHannuKwaanzakah...though I think the fabulous "Kelly" says it best.

Dissecting a layoff...

The fine folks at Gawker.com are masters at dissecting the obvious. I may or may not work at one of the studios mentioned in this piece. I am fortunate to only have been a recipient of the warning emails, but not of the resulting pink-slip. As you can imagine, folks around here don't have their usual freakishly cheerful groove on.

My neighbors at the hit television show (which was just cancelled last week...wtf?) are packing up to leave, and now so are a slew of others.

Ho...Ho...Ho....

Don't Get No Jizz Upon That Sofa....

...ok, now that I've got your attention, the addendum to the title of this post is "...Where Music and Memories Can Take You."




Apparently, 50 is the age where you start looking backward. Because you've acquired life experience that you had no idea was relevant as you were going on your merry way, you can't anticipate those moments when you're figuratively standing on your path, looking backward and reflecting on where you've come from. And then you suddenly find yourself sounding like your grandparents. This weekend, at a performance of "Joe's Garage" (produced by the Zappa Family Trust), I had the immense privilege of being led back down that path by Frank Zappa.

For many, Zappa is an unknown entity, for others (like me) he is burned into our consciousness. If you've spent any time around musicians, a tour bus, groupies or roadies, you'll know what I'm talking about.

He passed away on Dec. 4, 1993, but Until Dec. 20th he is alive and well at the Open Fist Theatre in Hollywood. I attended the show with The Former Mr. R. and our bro-in-law Bill; the only two people I know who would get it.

We were blown away by the interpretation of the content and the level of skill of the musicians (Zappa music ain't easy). Near the end of the show, as I sat in the darkened theater with TFMR listening to "Watermelon in Easter Hay", one of the 3 songs that Gail Zappa will never allow to be reproduced by anyone, anywhere, in any way (thank you Gail), I realized that for more than 25 years the language of Frank, which is like no other, was the language of our relationship. With divorce, the dynamic of that relationship has changed, but we are friends and the language remains the same.

If he sings the first few bars of "Crew Slut", I automatically chime in. At Christmas, I still sing-sing "I've got a present for youoooo"; and we both still think that "Fuck me, you ugly sonofabitch!" sung in German, is hysterical. And only those in the know will know what we mean when we say..."It looks just like a TeleFunken U-47!"

So as I sat in the dark with tears in my eyes meditating on Frank; I said a little prayer of thanks. I'm thankful to be able to look back on an interesting life; one filled with a love of wacky verbiage that we have passed on to our kids. For having the privilege to raise two extraordinary human beings who have a sophisticated sense of humor, who seek out and embrace the ridiculous and the obtuse; and who also have a healthy love of politics, and willingly question authority.

Thank you to the Zappa Family Trust.
Thank you Frank.

Thank You, Merci, Danke, Gracias...

When we are mired in distress, as we are in the Long War, it is so easy to distance ourselves from those who are doing the work. The Bush Administration has made sure that they remain invisible and far from our consciousness.

One of my greatest joys of the last two years has been to serve as a Soldier's Angel. My adopted soldiers made it home safely to their families, but they came back changed men. I always say... and believe with all my heart... that love heals all. Maybe you'll find it in your hearts to adopt a soldier; maybe you'll just send a letter to let a young man or woman, far from home, know that they are not forgotten. Maybe when you're out and about today and see a veteran, you'll just shake his or her hand and say "thank you."

*****************************

A Day of Remembrance, and Thanks
By Laughing Wolf

Today is a special and unique holiday. It is a day of giving thanks, not for all blessings, but for one. It is a day not of fireworks and revelry, but of quiet celebration. It is a day not focused on an event, but on the people who have made the events of our lives, and the freedom in which we -- and others elsewhere -- live them, possible

It is not a day for politics, causes, or debates and any who would make it so do nothing but show ignorance and contempt for those Men, male and female, who are the focus of this day. Such creatures who would hijack and defile this day with such crass self-interest and -absorption are but soulless shells bereft of dignity, integrity, courage, and honor. They are unworthy of any strong emotion, even contempt; are worth contemplation this day merely for comparison to and with those we honor; and, deserve only pity, for they too could have been Men.

For today, we honor those who have stood in defense of our freedom; and, most of all, we honor those that fell so doing. Most have indeed been male; but, more than many realize have been female. From Molly Pitcher to the women who masqueraded as males to fight in that war between the states; from those that disguised themselves to sail on ships of wood and sail to those that fight this day we have always been blessed with women of courage, integrity, and bravery. Gender matters not; nor does it matter if one stepped forward or was summoned, for all answered the call. They joined that thin coloured line, and stood fast.

What cowards would abandon, and tyrants destroy, they saved. Their shoulders have truly held our skies suspended, and their blood has paid the price of freedom for us and for others.

The ideals, the slogans, and ultimately even home and hearth were not why they stood. When the bugles call, the bullets fly, and the bombs burst such things become of minor import. What matters then is love and duty. Not a duty to some higher power or state; rather, the duty one has to one's brother in arms. What shell they inhabit means naught at such a time, and what they were before means less than nothing at all. The only thing that matters then is that they are with you and you with them, and the love and duty that exists between at that moment is all. They will not be failed. So Tommy steps forward unto the breech, Molly takes over the cannon and fires, and unsung heroes step forward into the fire.

Some walk among us now. Others lie with Brothers amidst peaceful grass. Still more rest where they fell, unmarked on land or sea.

Today is not a day for torrents of praise or empty posturing. It is a day for but two words and two actions.

Those two words are "Thank You"; and, the two actions are to say them to those who have stood and stand among us, and to remember those who stand in memories forever green. They saved things not for the sum of pay, but for each of us and all who come after. They saved them for the higher things, and for that Band of Brothers to which they for eternity belong.

Take the time today. Quietly say the words to those who serve, be they old or be they young. Take time throughout the day and remember their sacrifice, and most especially remember those who have paid the ultimate price for freedom and are not here in flesh to hear your words.

LW

Exactly where are we headed?

What a long strange trip it's been. I view life as one long road trip, as you might gather from the title of this blog. And the great thing about road trips is that if you're vigilant, and remember to take lots of pictures, you'll have interesting stuff to look back on.

I was six years old when President Johnson's Civil Rights Act of 1964 passed, and I remember very clearly, watching the world change. But, I also have been aware that as things changed, some stayed the same - they were just more covert.

I never have expected to see an African American elected president in my lifetime, so that says a great deal about how far we've come. And yet, the more things change, the more they remain the same. There will always be those who feel disenfranchised, and rather than working to change their lot in life, they take comfort in striking out. Maybe it's a lot easier to blame others and to be angry than it is to work hard; I wouldn't know. According to my Dad, there was never any other option.

But I suspect that should Sen. Obama settle in at 1600 Pennsylvania Blvd., we will be seeing a lot more of this kind of nonsense.

Kudos to the ATF, and throw a bunch of prayers into the ol' prayer bucket for the safety of Sen. Obama and his family; they're going to need them.
As do we all.

"Hold on to your butts!"

This, as quoted by Samuel L. Jackson, in "Jurassic Park", should be our election drama-mantra.

Every family has a knucklehead. Take John McCain for instance. This is the first we're hearing about his brother Joe McCain, but from the looks of things, it won't be this last.


I cannot wait to find out what shakes out of the Obama family tree.

My American Prayer

I am rarely at a loss for words, but nothing can shut me up better than the power of music.

We live in trying times, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we're in for more. I'm also a big believer in the power of prayer...and that prayer comes in many forms. This is my favorite kind.

Enjoy.
And pray.

Rod Serling was no fool...

Came across this today. It pretty much sums things up, don't you think?

"The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices, to be found only in the minds of men.

"For the record, prejudices can kill and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all its own -- for the children, and the children yet unborn."
~~ Rod Serling
Epilogue: 'Monsters Are Due On Maple Street'

One for the "WTF" file

You know, I believe that one man's pain can certainly be another man's pleasure. We're all wired however it is that we're wired, and who am I to judge or begrudge anyone what they find titillating.

I also believe that no one has any business in anyone's bedroom/dungeon/woodshed, where said behavior is consensual. In BDSM relationships, that tends to be the case.

So I find it fascinating that the Dept. of Justice finds it necessary to proceed with criminal prosecution of someone who produces said material, produced for consenting adults. At the same time, they absolve themselves of any wrongdoing when it comes to DOJ sanctioned torture of detainees.

Restraint, roleplay, sensory and physical manipulation for sexual release in the privacy of your abode = BAD

Restraint and roleplay, sensory and physical manipulation to get information = GOOD

Am I missing something here?

Dating in LA

Dating in LA...or should I say, dating at MY age is very much like being the last kid picked for kickball, in grade school. The ads read..."where are all the normal women?" or "must be thin (size 0-2), fit, love sports, not be a gold-digger, be sensual, willing to accomodate my massive tool, intelligent, blonde, busty, NOT A BBW, able to carry on a conversation, deeply spiritual, 420 friendly...and willing to swallow." Pretty simple, right?

Well, this is how I see it (and how I responded to the inquiry quoted below):

That woman you're looking for…the "smart, centered, compassionate woman age 25 to 40 looking for a SERIOUS relationship? A strong, independent woman with a good heart who embraces life? A woman who totally Gets It -- Capital 'G', Capital 'I'. A woman that a man can BELIEVE IN, who understands that the ultimate goal is lasting love and a life well-spent?"

Well, let me tell you about her. She's actually a bit older now. Surely she's wiser. Between the ages of 25-35, she was participating in, or on the receiving end of all the childish b.s. out there. She probably married the perpetrator. She may have had children with him. She was pretty sure that she had found the guy you describe yourself to be, but time, growth, and life experience has a way of tweaking our expectations.

If she was smart, somewhere between 35 and 40-something, she finally grew a spine and made the appropriate changes. If not, well….we all know how that ends up. I'm sure you've encountered her once or twice.

So now she's either single again, or still single. Still funny and sexy (if not sexier); still looking to get together with someone; even if it's for nothing more than just to pass the time. The men she meets that are her age have more issues than Life magazine, and are more than a little scary. She tends to attract younger men as a general rule, which is great (and she's thankful) but that comes with its own set of land mines. If she has children, and is attentive to the issues inherent in bringing someone else into the mix...the dating pool narrows significantly.

She's self supporting, so she works a lot, doesn't have many opportunities to meet and greet. She then takes a deep cleansing breath and jumps on the internet dating bandwagon. There, she is amazed and appalled at the number of men who are married, but sem to have forgotten that little fact; the men who think that sending pictures of their "package" is the way to her heart. Because she's a funny person, she collects them and plans to animate them (with little mouths so that they'll sing) for future use on a website she hopes to put up about the wackiness of internet dating. She's witty and wise, silly, sarcastic, insightful, intelligent; someone you'd be happy to have as a friend, proud to have as a partner.

You've been looking for her everywhere and she was right there all along. You just have to look a little closer at the expiration date on the package.