At 5:24am 19 years ago, with her hand in mine, my mother took her last breath here on earth. She was finally freed from the pain she suffered for a decade from Breast Cancer and all the treatments and medications she had because of the disease. For those of us who were left behind, there was pain in her leaving, but joy that the suffering was over. Since her passing, there have been many changes in my life. How I wish I could call her and just talk. I can’t tell you the number of times I have wanted her advice. There are so many things I wish I could apologize for, so many things I want to say, and so many things I long to hear. I am blessed to have some wonderful friends who have stood by me through some powerful storms lately, storms that would have made a bit easier with a call to mom.
I have said this before, but it is worth saying again – to those who still have their parents I say this – no matter what, make peace with them. Do not take them for granted. Enjoy each and every moment you have with them, even if it hearing the same story for the umpteenth time. Enjoy a cup of coffee with them. Take your kids to see them. Do not let another day go by without saying those things that you want to say. Make sure they know how thankful you are. Make sure they know you love them. Life is too short and when they are gone, you will long for those little things that seemed so trivial or unimportant.
It’s been a bit harder for me over the past few years. So many great things have happened. So many life events she wasn’t around to experience. She would be so proud of her oldest grandsons and would be spoiling her granddaughter and new grandson. She would be sharing embarrassing stories about me to my wife and so much more.
I miss my mom each and every day. My love for her is never ending, like hers was for me. The void remains – her laughter, her voice, and her smile are now but a memory that lives on in photos and old lost video tapes.
I found today’s photo in a stack of pictures I found in a box.
Growing up, we always had dogs. The two we had throughout most of my childhood were Lucy and Daisy. Daisy was a beagle and we got her when she was a puppy.
Lucy would bark. Daisy would howl. We had never heard a dog howl before. She would also go after birds, rabbits and other critters. She would have been a good hunting dog.
I remember when Lucy got old, my dad “took her to the farm” to get better. Well, that was obviously code for “putting her down.” She was very sick at the end and there was nothing that could be done. She was in a lot of pain, so the decision was made.
Daisy was around for quite a few years after Lucy. At some point my mom brought another puppy home and called it Sassy. I remember her playing well with Daisy, and at the same time she reminded me of Scrappy Doo. I can’t tell you why.
Thinking back, we had this one dog named Pepe that grew to be very large. They had told my folks that she would be a small dog. They lied. One time we were going to be gone all day. Dad thought he’s put the dogs in the garage so they wouldn’t go to the bathroom in the house. When we came home, Pepe had white stuff all over her face. She had been eating the drywall in the garage. Another time she had found a D battery and ate almost half of it. It is a wonder that dog didn’t kill itself with all it would eat.
When I moved out, someone gave me a kitten. From that time on, I think I’ve always had a cat. Currently Maizey and Bitsy are the felines in our house.
I know some folks aren’t pet people, but I’ve always been. I loved the companionship of our dogs and love when the cats decide to sit on my lap. Pets are truly family.
I have had Katie Williams’ My Murder on my “To Read” list for some time. I kept waiting for it to show up on Libby or Hoopla. That way I could listen to it on the ride to and from work. I haven’t seen it on either platform.
On a recent trip to the library with my kids, I noticed it on a shelf and picked it up. I chuckled when I took it to the desk and saw that it was the “large print” version. All these signs I’m getting older just keep coming.
Before I go into my thoughts, here is the Goodreads synopsis:
Lou is a happily married mother of an adorable toddler. She’s also the victim of a local serial killer. Recently brought back to life and returned to her grieving family by a government project, she is grateful for this second chance. But as the new Lou re-adapts to her old routines, and as she bonds with other female victims, she realizes that disturbing questions remain about what exactly preceded her death and how much she can really trust those around her.
Now it’s not enough to care for her child, love her husband, and work the job she’s always enjoyed–she must also figure out the circumstances of her death. Darkly comic, tautly paced, and full of surprises, My Murder is a devour-in-one-sitting, clever twist on the classic thriller.
Honestly, this book was not what I expected. I guess I thought that the story was going to be told by the ghost of the main character or something. The “being brought to life” aspect was an interesting angle. Bringing back the other murder victims made it more interesting.
Obviously, if they are bringing people back to life, there is a futuristic science fiction aspect to the story. It may take place in the future, but it has a current feel to it.
I’m not sure I feel it was “darkly comic,” but it was definitely full of surprises. There is a big twist about halfway through the book that takes you on another trail. That was unexpected, but it really made the story more thrilling.
I’m glad that I finally bit the bullet and just read the hard copy of the story. I don’t know much more about the author, but I think I am going to see what else she had written and check it out.
This past Friday I was up early and off to the state capitol. One of the bigger sleep conferences was being held at the Kellogg Center on the campus of Michigan State University. I had no idea how bad traffic was going to be so I was on the road by 5:30am. I arrived about 6:45am and had plenty of time to check in.
The conference was one of the best I have been to. There were some great sessions that talked about dreams and their connection with trauma, another one about “sleepwalking’ crimes, and a discussion about later school start times. The speakers were good, so it was easy to stay engaged.
The highlight for me was running into one of the gals who was in the sleep program with me. She has moved up in the world and is now working for one of the companies that does home sleep studies. She noticed me first and called my name. When I turned to see who it was, there were hugs all around.
We had to do presentations in class on a certain sleep disorder. She totally went out and bought one of the “old man” hats I always wore, got some felt and made herself a mustache and goatee and presented as me. It was hilarious! There was so much to catch up on. We’re hoping to get the families together to catch up more soon.
On Saturday, the kids had a birthday party that they were invited to. It was held at a bowling alley. Ella has only been bowling once and this was Andrew’s first time. They started out using the ramps to roll the ball…
It didn’t take long for them to just start throwing them without the ramp. Andrew somehow managed to throw the ball and get it stuck between the gutter and the bumpers. Ella was just happy to get the ball to knock down pins. Andrew decided to relax as the ball rolled down the alley.
My brother came up from Ohio this weekend. He had asked me if we were going to be around and that was before I knew about the birthday party. So after the birthday party we went to Frankenmuth where the Scarecrow Festival was going on.
They had pumpkin bowling, bounce houses, pumpkin launching and more. Many of the little shops had their own pumpkin scarecrows outside. Guests could vote for the best one on their phones. The kids liked seeing many of them.
The weather was mild, so it was nice enough to walk around without jackets. We walked around the Riverplace shops and also went to the Castle Shops and visited the bakery. Cookies all around!
Whether we were just too busy catching up or chasing the kids, my brother and I only got to grab one picture while we were there.
Around 6 all the fun stuff outdoors shut down. We were all hungry, so we decided to go to this little Italian place just outside of town. Neither of us had ever been there. It was delicious. I had lasagna which reminded me of a place my folks use to eat at all the time. Ella opted for spaghetti (which is noodles with butter and no sauce for her.) I usually cut it up for her, but she decided to eat it right from the bowl. I love this picture of her …
Andrew, who loves spaghetti, threw me for a loop when he asked for a grilled cheese and French fries. How do you make that Italian? If you look closely at his plate, you will see that he has put parmesan cheese all over his food.
When we left to go home, it poured rain. It was monsoon rain. There was thunder and lightening, which Andrew thought was really cool to see at night.
My brother and Stacey stopped over Sunday and hung out most of the day. They brought the kids Happy Meals and some gifts. Ella got a Barbie and Ken doll – both were decked out for soccer. Andrew got some monster trucks and this cool thing that you toss up in the air and it floats around. You control it with your hands. It was pretty cool.
Our visit was cut short because I had to give the kids baths and get them in bed for school the next day. They are always glad to see them. One day I hope to be able to make the drive down to Ohio with the kids to see them.
I’ll wrap up with something I just thought was cool. I love high school football. One thing I’ve noticed as years have gone by is the increase of the presence of law enforcement at games. At one high school the policemen really got into things. They were cheering for the home team and telling folks they had better, too.
Check out these two law officers being held up by the cheerleaders. I love the sign: Cheer or go to jail!
I love seeing stuff like this! Kudos to these officers – and the cheer team!
Happy 108th birthday to a jazz legend – Dizzy Gillespie!
Dizzy was a jazz trumpeter, bandleader, composer, educator and singer. His accomplishments alone could be the subject of 5-20 blogs. His combination of musicianship, showmanship, and wit made him a leading popularizer of the new music called bebop.
Gillespie’s trademark trumpet featured a bell which bent upward at a 45-degree angle rather than pointing straight ahead as in the conventional design. According to Gillespie’s autobiography, this was originally the result of accidental damage caused by a couple of dancers falling onto the instrument while it was on a trumpet stand on stage. The constriction caused by the bending altered the tone of the instrument, and Gillespie liked the effect. He had the trumpet straightened out the next day, but he could not forget the tone. Gillespie sent a request to the Martin Band Instrument Company to make him a “bent” trumpet from a sketch produced by his wife, Lorraine, and from that time forward played a trumpet with an upturned bell.
The Rough Guide To Jazz describes his style this way: “The whole essence of a Gillespie solo was cliff-hanging suspense: the phrases and the angle of the approach were perpetually varied, breakneck runs were followed by pauses, by huge interval leaps, by long, immensely high notes, by slurs and smears and bluesy phrases; he always took listeners by surprise, always shocking them with a new thought. His lightning reflexes and superb ear meant his instrumental execution matched his thoughts in its power and speed. And he was concerned at all times with swing—even taking the most daring liberties with pulse or beat, his phrases never failed to swing.”
Trumpeter Wynton Marsalis says this about Dizzy: “His playing showcases the importance of intelligence. His rhythmic sophistication was unequaled. He was a master of harmony—and fascinated with studying it. He took in all the music of his youth—from Roy Eldridge to Duke Ellington—and developed a unique style built on complex rhythm and harmony balanced by wit. Gillespie was so quick-minded, he could create an endless flow of ideas at unusually fast tempo. Nobody had ever even considered playing a trumpet that way, let alone had actually tried. All the musicians respected him because, in addition to outplaying everyone, he knew so much and was so generous with that knowledge…”
Dizzy wrote “A Night in Tunisia” in 1942 while he was playing with the Benny Carter Band. Gillespie called the tune “Interlude” and said “some genius decided to call it ‘A Night in Tunisia'”. It would become one of his signature songs of his bebop band. In January 2004, The Recording Academy added the 1946 Victor recording by Gillespie to the Grammy Hall of Fame.
Today (in 1890) is one of a few dates that are said to be the birthday of Jelly Roll Morton. Another is September 13, 1884 and another is said to be September 30, 1890. So I really can’t even tell you how old he would be today. It just so happens that one of his birthdays fell on this Monday and it’s a perfect tie in to The Monday Blues.
Morton was known apparently for “bending the truth” a bit. His claim to have invented jazz in 1902 was often criticized. The music critic Scott Yanow once said, “Jelly Roll Morton did himself a lot of harm posthumously by exaggerating his worth … Morton’s accomplishments as an early innovator are so vast that he did not really need to stretch the truth.”
At the age of fourteen, Morton began as a piano player in a brothel. He often sang smutty lyrics and used the nickname “Jelly Roll”, which was slang for female genitalia. At the time, he was living with his grandmother who was quite religous. When she found out what he was doing she literally disowned him. Morton said, “When my grandmother found out that I was playing jazz in one of the sporting houses in the District, she told me that I had disgraced the family and forbade me to live at the house. She told me that devil music would surely bring about my downfall…“
The Jelly Roll Blues (or The Original Jelly Roll Blues as it is sometimes called) is an early jazz fox-trot composed by Morton. He recorded it first as a piano solo in Richmond, Indiana, in 1924. Take a listen to this …
In 1938, Morton was stabbed and suffered wounds to the head and chest. A nearby hospital refused to treat him, as the city had racially segregated facilities. So he was transported to a black hospital farther away. When he was in the hospital, doctors left ice on his wounds for several hours before attending to the injury. His recovery from his wounds was incomplete, and thereafter he was often ill and became short of breath easily.
His asthma would get so bad that he stayed at a hospital in New York for three months. He continued to suffer from respiratory problems when he travelled to Los Angeles hoping to restart his career. It was not to be, however, as he spent eleven days in an LA hospital before passing away on July 10, 1941.
I left a sleep conference yesterday evening and was hungry. I decided to just drive thru to grab a bite to eat before picking up the kids.
The line was slower than normal. Once I paid, I went to the next window. The car in front of me pulled off to a parking spot. In front of him was a car that had pulled past the window and was waiting. I got to the window and they asked me to pull off to the side. The car behind me – same thing!
How in the world do they get four cars behind? And why do we have to pull up or over? It makes me so angry.
I paid for my order at 7:21pm. I waited in the parking spot for almost 14 minutes before they brought me my food – which was one hamburger. This is truly unacceptable.
I went looking through my junior high yearbooks this week. I had heard of the passing of a classmate who went to a different high school, but was in junior high with us. I knew the name but couldn’t picture his face, so I went through the yearbook.
While searching I was reminded of some of the teachers I had. One in in particular came to mind immediately – Mrs. Kellogg.
I just loved her! She was no nonsense, and yet enjoyed a little nonsense at times. I was lucky enough to have her for 7th and 8th grade for English. She was tough and I learned a lot about writing because of her. The above picture was taken on my last day of 8th grade. These were the days when no one knew what a “selfie” was. I really wish I had a photo of us together.
Mrs. Kellogg was instrumental in getting me to be proactive about working. Yeah, I was not very self-motivated at this point in my life. I remember one day we were supposed to be doing some quiet reading, and I think I was staring off out the window or something and she called my name and said, “Don’t just sit there like a Willie Lump Lump! Get your eyes on the book!” Well, Willie Lump Lump was a Red Skelton character, who I knew because my dad let us listen to old radio shows. I laughed at this and a special bond was created. I never wanted to disappoint her, and I took initiative to get my work done.
She is the teacher responsible for one of my yearly traditions. We read Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol in 7th and 8th grade. She had recorded herself reading it on tape. When we “read” it in class, we read along with her voice. I have read it every year since.
I kept in contact with her long after she retired and sadly, I lost her address in between moves. She had told me that she was working on a book. I told her I would love to read it, and then I lost the address. She passed away before I had the chance to reconnect with her. She was a fine example of a caring teacher.
Various Ramblings of a Nostalgic Italian 