Falcon Ridge Folk Festival - 2018 Most Wanted Winners

 Per usual, this is dribbling out via third parties (h/t John Platt of WFUV for sharing) and not via any official Falcon Ridge channels (website, social media, etc.).

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Anne Saunders has announced the winners of Falcon Ridge's Emerging Artists showcase. Congrats to the pride of L.I. , Quarter Horse, and my good pal Carolann Solebello, plus honorable mention for Katherine Rondeau. Katherine will be performing next Tuesday at Rockwood Music Hall for ON YOUR RADAR, and Quarter Horse will be doing OYR in February.

1 - QUARTER HORSE in FIRST place with 38% of the voters rooting for them.
Merch Queen Notes: Quarter Horse was the third highest grossing emerging artist in terms of CD sales. Sales were probably lower does to them selling merch last year (Lounge Stage) and having a "pay your own price" policy without super great signage which we think resulted in under-reporting.
 2 - OLIVER THE CROW came in SECOND place garnering 28% of the voters.
Merch Queen Notes: Oliver the Crow was the highest grossing emerging artist in terms of CD sales 
3 - CAROLANN SOLEBELLO came in THIRD with 22% .

Merch Queen Notes: Carolann was the 6th highest grossing emerging artist in terms of CD sales; but she's been a mainstay at Falcon Ridge for many years (solo and as a founding member of Red Molly) so not quite so much buzz for her CD.
Congratulations! All THREE will be invited to FR 2019.

Several HONORABLE MENTIONS too! Justin Farren (7th highest CD sales) in a very close 4th place with just under 21% of the voting audience, followed by 5J Barrow (12th highest CD sales) with 20% and Katherine Rondeau (4th highest CD sales) with 18%. Over 15% of the voters is honorable indeed. If any of the top 3 are unable to accept our invitation, Justin will certainly be invited.

We also had a number of OVER 10% ers this year: Amy Kucharik, Andrew Delaney (2nd highest CD sales), Ian Flanigan & Nicolas Emden were all named by over 10% of the voting audience.

Deep Dive: Elton John

File this under Nostalgia. And Wasted Youth. And We Live in the Age of Miracles and Wonders.

In recent years I've taken to playing catch up with some of the amazing music that I missed out on the first time around, or that has fallen through the cracks as my media consumption has transitioned from LPs to Cassettes to CDs to MP3 to streaming. For a while I was picking up some of the Original Album Series on Amazon - 5 classic or seminal CDs from an artist that I either missed the first time around (Bonnie Raitt and Little Feat) or had in various formats and never replaced (Warren Zevon). As a kid, standing over record bins, flipping through albums was almost an art form - the equivalent of web surfing today - either as a way to kill a few hours out of the house or something to do when mom dragged me to a department store. And when music was consumed primarily through albums, one would pore over* the album art, credits, lyrics, etc. if only because one needed to stay close to flip over the album. So having the reproduction album covers in the Original Album Series is nice.

A while back I picked up a Kindle Fire for the sole purpose of storing my voluminous collection of albums in digital format (many 100s, I added a big chunk of memory) and to stream music (mostly via Amazon Prime). And I've found myself on occasion getting a hankering for some artist, and spending a day listening to old albums, in order of release.

Oftentimes this is triggered by a death - Steely Dan was such a listen a while back. Othertimes, I'm just in the mood. A few days ago, Funeral for a Friend / Love Lies Bleeding popped up on Sirius 70s on 7 and it made me smile (and crank the volume). So this morning, Elton John got the deep dive treatment.

A somewhat random selection, listening sequentially to Madman Across the Water, Honky Chateau, Yellow Brick Road, and Captain Fantastic. I was 10 when Madman came out, 14 when Captain Fantastic came out. Was probably consuming music primarily via AM/FM radio at the time, so the many hits are imprinted in my head and even the deeper cuts are familiar, although I only recall owning Yellow Brick Road on vinyl, and nothing on cassette or CD. I had moved on musically, and the brilliance of this artist did not bubble up for me (on the culture) for many years.




These deep dives are complicated. My modern self is reminded how amazing access to music and technology is these days. Pulling music out of the ether (i.e. the internet) at will, electronically dumping it to my stereo, playing it throughout the house. I'm a bit of an Alexia resister, or I'd be able to call this stuff up via voice command. Not quite yet....but still, 70s Jude would be impressed.

I also want to rent a time machine and go back to that younger version of myself and leave some breadcrumbs for all the amazing music that was around in my youth, that I either missed completely or never really got past the hits. Then again, perhaps a course in Bowie and Elton John and Mott the Hoople and Velvet Underground would have led me into all sorts of places I might not have emerged from unscathed. Not so bad to come to this stuff when I was ready to listen.

As I get older, I have come to appreciate the scope and breath of my lifetime. I think somewhere in my youth, I conceived an ideal afterlife where I might "go back to any era or period and just explore" thinking of human history, natural history - dropping in to observe, to study, to witness. These days, sometimes just being here to witness the 57 years I've been a part of sometimes seems big and awesome enough.

Question 3 in Massachusetss

To be clear, Question 3 will have almost zero impact on my life, as a transgender woman, living in a neighboring state. 

I've been gifted a pretty solid hand in terms of passing privilege, economic privilege, educational and intellectual privilege. I've jumped through all the hoops in terms of legal and physical gender transition. I am exceptionally well-behaved, the "good tranny" so to speak who never feels entitled to date, to enter women-only spaces. And I came up and out in a far less enlightened era and learned how to move through the world without making waves; I transitioned without the benefit of legal protections, insurance coverage, etc.

All that being said, it's good that the legal system in one state that I move through, that I once called home, and that my family mostly still lives in recognizes certain rights and protections. It makes me feel ever so slightly less cranky about the world.

And getting meta here, had Question 3 been voted down, had transgender rights been rescinded or downgraded in that state, it would have given me one more reason to feel separate, embattled, pissed off from the majority of the population, cis-gender folks both straight and gay.  So I'm happy that it passed.

The Cars

In other "looking backward, not forward" news, I stumbled across this concert video of "The Cars" circa 1979 last evening. 

The Boston-based Cars were, I suppose, my gateway drug into what became known as New Wave - national bands like Blondie, Talking Heads, Pretenders, Cheap Trick, The Police, Elvis Costello, B-52s, and yes, The Knack - bleeding over into punk, to brit-rock, to ska. I blame Jim Reedy who was (and still is, no doubt) far more musically progressive than myself. I'm not sure if we ever saw them live in small clubs in Boston (it's possible that we did, Jim was adventurous and a positive influence that way) - I know I saw them in '79 at the Yale Bowl* for SunFest79 (Beach Boys, Eddie Money, Flo & Eddie, Henry Paul Band, The Cars) and again during college (Boston Garden, it's possible the Clash or one of their off-shoots opened, the internets are not cooperating this morning in terms of documenting the show)

I'm struck by how "small club rock & roll" they seem here, rough around the edges and unpolished compared to modern standards. Remembering the individual members (one of the few groups I came to learn all the band-member's names), remember playing "Good Times Roll" in Jim's basement. Did not realize bassist Ben Orr passed away so long ago (2000) and so young (53, pancreatic cancer) - he kind of has a bit of a "Sting" vibe here.

Nice to take a look back. The Cars made the jump to MTV, but broke up in 1988. I picked up a Best of Anthology on CD along the way but I never replaced my vinyl copies of The Cars or Candy-O. I remained a big enough fan to pick up Panorama, Shake It Up, and Heartbeat City on vinyl back in the day (all long gone), but I dropped out by the time they released "Door to Door" which I do not remember at all.

* I also went to the 1980 edition - The Eagles, Heart, and Little River Band - and I wore an Eagles baseball concert shirt often enough for my artistic college roomie to make it my signature garb when caricaturing me. This second concert is a blur - I had worked the overnight shift at McD's. And somebody (Robin V?) had pot which I rarely smoked but did that day, all I remember is being about as far back as possible in the Yale Bowl and my fatigued, sun-baked, and stoned brain thought I was watching the concert on TV.

Monty Python's Flying Circus on Netflix

Netflix has dumped a ton of Monty Python related material recently - best of shows, clip reels, live performances, remembrances, biographies.

I've decided to go back to the source material: 4 series, 45 episodes, aired in Britain from 1969-1974. Python has been kind of ubiquitous in my life (although the Marx Brothers were much earlier and more formative), but I'm not sure I've ever done a canonical viewing of the show. The ensemble became known for stand-alone sketch / bit comedy that fans have come to know by heart, but many of the belly laughs of viewing the original shows come from the way sketches bleed over into each other, or show up again later in the show.

My most recent watch (Series 2, Episode 1) features the "New Cooker" sketch, and the long line of service techs patiently waiting to enter the sketch pop up several times later in the show; the classic "Ministry of Silly Walks" (Cleese silly walks through the following sketch at least once), and "Ethel the Frog / Piranha Brothers" which I remembered mostly from a record album compilation, so there is a soundless bit in the middle I did not recall, as well as an addendum tacked on for the recording "...sorry squire, I've scratched the record....sorry squire, I've scratched the record....sorry squire, I've scratched the record....". And Spiny Norman's animated appearance during the credits is sort of the icing on the cake. "Dinsdale...."

My earliest Python memories were of my dad watching and laughing in our family room in PA, over the air via the local public station, quite possibly in black & white. I think we were both a little embarrassed about the occasional nudity (most often in Terry Gilliam's animated pastiches). I was a little too young for it to be appropriate (but was curious) and he seemed a little embarrassed for enjoying it as much as he did. I think he was looking for someone to share it with and I was not quite there yet.

Later on in high school, where the sketches bounced around pretty wildly in lunchroom banter and classroom cut-ups. I probably picked up a lot of it second hand, or through records - in those pre-internet, pre-DVD, pre-VCR, even pre-cable days (we were late acquirers) it was catch as catch can in terms of actually seeing the shows. And when I was able to watch a show, it was difficult to put some of the humor in context the way a serial viewing of the series provides, both in terms of repetitive themes as well as the evolution of the humor and the acting / comedy skills.

Holy Grail (1975) and Life of Brian (1979) neatly bookended my high school career - I'm sure I saw both in the theaters. But again, a different experience when one needs to pay and screen multiple times, rather than watching the film over and over the way a VCR, DVD or stream permits.

So...a nice little break from reality that I am savoring (rather than binge watching) and a chance to revisit a more innocent era, personally and culturally.

Stop & Shop - New Logo?

Although I've not been inside one in a while, I drove by the Berlin Stop & Shop (with the radio on.....) recently and noticed a new (and fairly disturbing, in its graphic simplicity) logo on the street signage and atop the building. I could not find an image online (it's that new) so I recreated it to the best of my ability.

Now, you may recall the most recent Stop & Shop logo (adapted or harmonized with parent company Giant Foods), circa 2008 - present.

And old timers may recall the old logo, circa 1992 - 2008.

Wikipedia provides some background:

Stop & Shop/Giant-Landover was a combined supermarket chain owned by the American subsidiary of the Dutch retailer Ahold. The company took its form in 2004, after Ahold decided to combine the operations of its New England-based Stop & Shop chain with its Landover, Maryland-based Giant Food chain to create the largest supermarket company in the Mid-Atlantic States. Giant's headquarters relocated in Landover, Maryland, and Stop & Shop kept their headquarters in Quincy, Massachusetts. This combination failed, as Mid-Atlantic market area shoppers grocery needs did not align with those of Stop & Shop's offerings. In 2011 the two companies were separated and now operate independently. The separation of Stop & Shop/Giant-Landover, also brought the separation of the Stop & Shop Supermarket into two separate operating divisions, Stop & Shop-New England and Stop & Shop-New York. Both Giant Food and Stop & Shop's two divisions continue to share the same Fruit Basket Logo even though they all operate independently.

 ~ Wikipedia: Stop & Shop/Giant-Landover

So not sure if the "new logo" is coming from the initial separation from Giant Food, or from the subsequent schism of Stop & Shop New England and Stop and Shop New York. This perhaps sheds some light on things: Ahold Delhaize Planning Stop & Shop Format Update This Fall (The Shelby Report, August 13, 2018)

All I can say is, I don't like it. The old logo (red box, white background, black font with minimized ampersand) is kind of classic. I liked the most recent logo fine, it felt fresh (in line with produce, organic, local, etc. which seem to be what folks want in a grocer). The new logo just seems - hurried, rushed, something an executive without a lot of graphic design skills might come up with in Word or PowerPoint. Seems almost generic, like they cobbled the sign together out of stock shapes and fonts without too much thought about subtleties, scale, or sizing. It's a throwback to the old logo but really poorly implemented.

Meh, that's all I can say. I am sure the official website, press pages, etc. will get changed eventually, and there will be some breathless announcement about the new logo. But for what it's worth, I'm not in love with it.

On the other hand, it's annoying and notable enough for me to blog about it, so that's something.....

Engineering while Female

This blog is not the only place I leave internet footprints; I also post periodically to my professional website, as well as to Facebook, Linked In, etc.

A little while back, I came across an interesting site in my engineering work, and posted about it on Linked In:

Now, when I post these things on that particular platform, I invariably get a lot of "sales pitches" from folks who want to sell something - a monitoring device, a filtering device, etc. I also get a lot of what I might call MAS (Male Answer Syndrome) with fellow (always, male) engineers making suggestions. Finally some appreciative readers who find these posts interesting.

In general, I try to (gently) push them away; I am doing this analysis remotely, have neither access to the site nor responsibility for the resolution. I post simply because it seems curious or interesting, because I might have a theory as to what is going on, etc.

In this case, my response to a few of these "this is what you should do (or buy)" posts:

To be clear, the nature of my work is to receive data, put together a summary / analysis for my client, who turns it over to the local field service folks. I have no direct involvement in the site (finding the specific cause, troubleshooting, prescribing solutions) so the advice, recommendations, etc. here, while on target, are not generally useful to me. I post these not for solutions or ideas, but rather because they are interesting - have been working in power quality for over 30 years so I'm pretty sure I could drill down to a cause and solution if that were in my wheelhouse.

And a response from one commenter (who felt, perhaps, a tad under-appreciated):

I understand from your reply that, as Mr. S told, either current probe not clamped properly or something else. As you have not involved directly and just doing clerical activity, I think discussing more about this posting is meaningless.

::sigh:: The fact that this individual was, in fact, not yet born the day I hooked up my first power monitoring device or had my sleeves rolled up poking around facility electrical panels is not lost on me. Nor that he is from a country where women are not quite fully realized as human beings. And this "clerical work" has involved me reviewing and providing analysis for over 4500 sites / data sets over the past 15 years. In the words of Farmer's Insurance "We know a lot because we've seen a lot"


I could have used it as a teachable moment, I suppose. But I do not have time or energy to fix the world at this point. I simply disconnected from him on Linked In. Pound sand, my narrow minded, culturally hamstrung, and younger, not wiser colleague...

Pennsylvania Priest Sex Abuse News

::sigh:: I've been reading the news from PA (priest sex abuse scandal) with both interest and sadness. So many of the small towns and parishes in Central PA (Diocese of Harrisburg) were my grade school stomping ground; our school basketball team often went to the regional finals, so towns like Shamokin and Carlisle and Camp Hill and Ephrata - imprinted onto my memory.

Despite a life time of proximity to the Roman Catholic clergy (serving mass, making music) I recall nothing untoward - priests were sadistic to altar servers, demanding, grumpy, alcoholic - but that's been the limit of my experience. At least I hope so. I cannot imagine repressing something like that (especially considering how deep into my childhood and psyche I've journeyed and how much I wanted to find a cause for my case of "the trans") but who knows. Predators seems to know the vulnerable, confused kids and I was certainly that. But I also had attentive parents (Dad was active in the Knights of Columbus, was the Monsignor's bridge partner, and dutifully came to early morning mass every day that I served) so perhaps I was a little too well protected.

But still. There on the list, my childhood best friend, who always seemed destined for the priesthood - distributing Necco wafers as communion, or fastening a towel around his head pretending to be a nun. I still remember his birthday (born 14 days apart), and probably could dredge his childhood phone number out of my subconscious if I tried hard enough.

Looking at dates and times, it does not seem to be the typical long term predator situation. As a deacon in his mid 20's (1986-87), he had a relationship with what I suspect (and hope) was an older but not legal teen. He was expelled within a year of the event (1988), post-ordination, and laicized (defrocked, as it were) many years later. This was not really a surprise to me this week; after watching "Spotlight" a few years back I dug out a website listing priests accused of sex abuse (figuring I'd find some priest from childhood or high school) and was shocked to come across my friend's name.

A gay male of my acquaintance once differentiated for me the difference between pedophilia (young children) and ephebophilia (adolescents) and while both problematic, they are not the same. But in this roiling mess of priest sex scandal, it's all one big ball of evil and dysfunction.

As a proto-queer catholic kid in those days, I got the "have you ever considered that you might have a vocation" speech by pretty much every adult I ran across. They could read the signs (gay, trans, lesbian, all problematic and verboten, a problem in need of a solution) and wanted to steer those little femme boys and butch girls into acceptable roles. I resisted (thank goodness). I've encountered many LGBT friends who were not so fortunate (coming through short or long lived careers as priests, brothers, nuns, etc.). So there's a little "there but for the grace of god (ironic, that) go I" aspect to all this, both as a potential victim as a child, and as a conflicted and confused young adult who could have ended up in a problematic, same gender environment. 

So yeah, a sad and confusing news story. I continue to carry a torch (not quite literally) of anger towards the roman catholic church (did I mention I've been just short of excommunicated in terms of sacraments, having been asked to refrain?). On good days (weddings, baptisms, funerals, etc.), I can suck it up, say the prayers, put the kneeler up and down at the right time in a way both familiar and nostalgic. I sit back when it's time for communion without a lot of attachment, good or bad.

Unlike a lot of my "raised up catholic" peers, I really do not yearn to be brought back into the fold. My spiritual journey has taken me much deeper than a simple monotheistic religion; christianity is just one more filter that lies between this particular life experience and the truth.

Instead, I mourn for all involved. The young people (boys and girls, of all ages) molested, traumatized, damaged. The repressed and damaged men (and women as well) who found no place for their sexuality in their spiritual home, were steered into these positions, and who acted out in ways both evil and inappropriate. And so many of my family members and friends who found community, solace, and a spiritual in this church, and have been so deeply disappointed and estranged.  

 

2024 Edit: Not long after I posted this, the story of my childhood friend hit the media - Priest accused of rape, defrocked - then got government job helping mentally disabled people (Feb 22, 2019)

There is quite a bit more disturbing details regarding this case https://local21news.com/news/local/harrisburg-priest-takes-break-from-ministry-after-being-named-in-grand-jury-report

 

And, I'm not finding an internet source but I recall learning that this individual dies not long after, no doubt by suicide. 

2018 Falcon Ridge Preview #2 - John Gorka

Another "Long time, No See" Falcon Ridge Folk Festival returnee, John Gorka was perhaps one of my very earliest "new folk" finds.

I've seen him play numerous times - Falcon Ridge, coffeehouses, clubs - and covered many of his early songs at open mics over the years. His song "Where the Bottles Break" (Jack's Crows, 1991) is perhaps the theme music of my garbage picking, although truth be told so many bottles are plastic these days I rarely come across broken glass on my rounds.

But this one, from 1992's "Temporary Road" is more appropriate. It bounced around my head during the various Gulf Wars "I know the whole truth there is horrible

It's better if you take a little at a time" and even into the present administration.

But this line "People love you when they know you're leaving

soon" may be most appropriate to our beloved folk fest.....

2018 Falcon Ridge Preview #1 - The Kennedys

I finally took a look at The Falcon Ridge Folk Festival lineup this year - and man, so many "old friends" are coming back this year for the 30th anniversary. I've decided to share a video from these favorites over the next few weeks, with a bit about what they mean to me, and Falcon Ridge memories.

Pete and Maura Kennedy were long time Falcon Ridge regulars. I'm pretty sure they'd win my personal "most albums owned by an artist nobody has heard of award" - I've picked up so many of their over the years: Stand, Get It Right, Positively Live, Songs of the Open Road, Better Dreams. Not even scratching the surface. There's a lot of resonance with yoga, enlightenment, spiritual growth. Maura is as close as you get to a rock star at a folk fest, and Pete is a guitar wizard.

My biggest Kennedy memory is the year they assembled The Strangelings (with Chris & Meredith Thompson, among others) - 2007, which was my first year running performer merch. They were a merchandise juggernaut - Strangelings stuff, Kennedy's stuff, solo stuff (Pete and Maura have pretty solid solo catalogs), Stringbusters stuff (kind of bluegrass / instrumental if memory serves), kids stuff. They've been around forever and have a super deep catalog, and it was a LOT.
They've popped in to the fest sporadically over the past few years - will be wonderful to have their talent and energy in an official capacity this year.

And bonus - The Strangelings from 2007 Falcon Ridge with a "newly plucked from the campgrounds" Eric Lee on fiddle!

 

Swag-a-licious Wedding

Returned yesterday from the wedding of my nephew Joseph and his new bride Asher, down at her family's vacation home at Frio Cañon in Leakey, TX

We stayed in the stone guest house to the right; two master suites with lofts, and a small kitchenette. Stunning!

A grand time was had by all - we were well housed (in one of the community member's guest houses) and well fed and feted (with an arrival dinner, a ladies luncheon, a rehearsal dinner, the wedding reception itself, and a farewell brunch). Joe is marrying into a wonderful, loving family - parents David and Sherry Dalgleish have five daughters, Asher is the youngest and last to marry. Joe completes the set of five son-in-laws dubbed the "brother-husbands".

Saturday found us on a short canoe / kayak trip up the Frio River

The location itself was spectacular - a valley property framed by hillsides and nestled around the Frio River, with spectacular summer homes set apart in a family friendly community. Many of the buildings have been built by the family business, the Dalgleish Construction Company and the quality and vibe of the places are along the lines of  (but amped up to 11 in terms of size, scope, and quality) Chip & Joanna Gaines' spectacular and popular "Fixer Upper" home remodeling projects. The wedding was held at (and we hung out at) the Frio Family Retreat house featured on the Dalgleigh Project page.

The wedding ceremony was held behind the main house, my sister and family stayed in the guest cottage to the left.

Having not been to a wedding in many years, I was surprised at the amount of wedding swag there was. Not sure if this has become common in recent years, is a Texas thing, or a family thing - but I walked away with bags, snacks, personal care products, a candle, and can coozies.....just a ton of remembrances.

Glad to be back home (laundry in process, catching up on work) but we sure did have a blast. Congratulations and all my love once again, Joe & Asher!

End of an Era: Marian High School to Close

Marian High School in Framingham to close (Metrowest Daily News, April 3, 2018)

My initial reaction as I shared this, on Facebook of course:

Kind of a sad day, my alma mater. Like most everything in the first half of my life, I wandered through my four years there kind of disengaged, but I do have fond memories of the place, the teachers, my classmates.

Maybe the recurring dreams of wandering the halls trying to remember my locker number or combination, or trying to figure out that day’s schedule, will end......

Looking a little closer, the writing has clearly been on the wall, for the better part of a decade:

Marian High was founded in 1956 by Cardinal Richard Cushing, archbishop of the Boston Archdiocese, and guided by the Sisters of St. Joseph. It had gradually moved toward becoming a less religious faculty in recent years, and has been independent of the Boston Archdiocese since the 2004-2005 school year.

The school has an enrollment of 221 students. More than 50 percent of them reside in Framingham. Tuition is now $11,100 per pupil, and would have risen again next year.

Seems like a bit of death spiral underway....compare and contrast - in the late 70s / early 80s when I and two of my siblings attended, tuition was around $800 and total enrollment was around 750. I remember Dad writing tuition checks to "the Archdiocese of Boston" when he realized they were coming back endorsed by the Arch-Diocese, and I suspect taking the payments as a charitable deduction. My first lesson in moral relativism, not exactly legal but since we were paying for the public school system through property taxes but not using that resource, perhaps ethically neutral.

One has to consider the impact of the priest sex abuse scandal (which broke in 2002 in the Boston area) - stepping away from the archdiocese no doubt had some repercussions (perhaps financial, perhaps in terms of attendance) but also was no doubt the fulcrum of a decline in church attendance and catholic enthusiasm.

Marian was not immune from the whole sex abuse thing, although the dynamic (a female teacher / coach and a female student) was atypical of the more typical priest / young man abuse of the greater scandal - Woman sues Catholic Framingham high school, alleging abuse  - the school's response seems to have had a hide your head in the sand aspect to it typical of other forms of abuse.

Although this occurred while I was at Marian, and it seems like the victim might have been a member of my class, I was pretty clueless back in the day. There was a lot of repressed sexuality going down in Catholic land back in the day (not that it has improved much) and so those sexual identities bleeding out in all sorts of inappropriate or sketchy ways was par for the course.

My memories of Marian are also somewhat sketchy - I rolled into 9th grade a recent Massachusetts resident (relocating from York, PA the summer before) so it was all so strange. We said "hoagie", they said "submarine", we said "soda", they said "tonic", we said "water fountain", they said "bubbler". I remember the principal's PA system pronouncements, with her Boston accent and verbiage, it felt like I had moved to a different country. Had we remained in York, PA, I'd have attended York Catholic which felt a lot more mainstream, "catholic prep" vs. "college prep" than Marian.

It was not a bad time to be the new kid - Marian drew from a number of catholic grade schools as well as local public schools, so there were a lot of "new kids", although the core of the class came from local St. Bridget School, and it took a few years to feel less of an outsider.

It was a pretty simple building - three floors plus a basement, U-shape. Classrooms along the long side, plus a single classroom at the base of each "U" leg. The left leg housed a small gym and basement lockers; the right leg an auditorium that seated the entire student body (including a balcony) and a basement cafeteria which we had to use over several lunch periods to get us all served. 

Three stairwells in the main building (center and sides) and smaller stairwells on the inside corners at the gym and auditorium. Ironically, the Kripalu Yoga Center in Lenox MA (a re-purposed Jesuit Seminary of a similar architectural vintage) often reminds me of my high school

I remember hanging out in the stairwells during free periods, you could kind of hide from roaming teachers or staff if you kept moving, there were nooks and corners you could hang out in. There was a smoking area "The Pit" in the parking area which appears to have been thankfully removed. I remember a small chapel on the first floor (facing the inner parking area), and larger library on the second floor (facing Union Avenue). When I was there, a small candy / supply store in the basement, run by Sr. Denisita - who wore the full habit, including a large rosary / cross (which might have doubled as a weapon in other hands), and was a tireless advocate for a Boston homeless shelter as well as finding gainful employment for Marian students. One of my classmates, John Shraven, remembers her here

All in all, I have fond memories of the school, it was a safe enough space for a proto-queer, nerd before it was cool, super smart kid who would have struggled pretty much anywhere, but it sucks to have gone through my four years there donning what feels in retrospect like a protective shell. Like pretty much everything else in the first 20-30 years of my life, there are so many regrets - lost opportunities in terms of music and theater, people I hurt through my armor of acerbic and overly quick wit. Nobody got close enough to figure out what was up with me, and that was probably for the best.

There's a "Save Marian" movement but it seems a little too late, nostalgic and well intended but not so practical. The roots of Marian's demise go back decades, tracking with the struggles of the catholic church, and challenges of private education in a modern, tech savvy world.

So RIP Marian High School. I cannot say I've looked back on my high school days too fondly - bittersweet mostly. So many things in my past are disappearing or transitioning - just kind of piles up in the attic of memories.  

Friday Night

I rescued this from my digital archives / basement, a creative writing piece I put together sometime in the 90's. The file is dated September 1997 but I suspect that's when it went up online - authored in 1992 or thereabouts.

I recalled this today because my brother in law posted a photo of Famous Pizza, owned by a neighbor and a regular take-out place in high school (late 70s). I thought about the place referenced in my story (late 60s), Joe's Pizza, and much to my surprise, it's still in business - Joe's Pizza Plaza

We at Joe's Pizza Plaza opened our doors in 1963 to provide local residents with our homemade Italian cuisine in a friendly environment. We are family owned and operated and very proud to maintain pizzeria in homely atmosphere.

 

Joe's daughter, Joann, now operates the restaurant in her father's name. Joann is regularly on site continuing the family tradition. We treat everyone like family and offer friendly and personalized service to our customers.

Trip Advisor has a couple of photos of the inside of the place, and it has not changed much.  

Next time I'm in York I need to pick up a pie to go. Based on the photos on the website, they are still making 'em New York style with a chewy, bubbly crust.

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I am eight, and my excitement bubbles within me as I strategically set up the TV trays. One goes by the lounger for Dad, of course, and another is an island in the center of the room. Two more left, I place one by the couch for Mom and set the last one by the rocking chair. Perfect. Kathy brings down the paper plates and napkins. There is a big stack of napkins, and she folds them carefully into triangles. She doles them out, and gives me the most. I don't care.

We fidget at each other, eyeing the sealed orange soda bottle and the neat row of glasses with ice. She claims the rocking chair, ruining my plan of having my own TV tray. She doesn't even realize her sin, so I pick up the TV Guide and search for Friday Night. Our all-time favorite shows are on, but I tell Kathy that a basketball game is on instead. As she runs complaining upstairs to Mom, I triumphantly claim the rocking chair.

Headlights splash on the wall over the TV; Dad has returned from his quest. He's gone across town, 2 or even 3 miles to "Joe's Pizza". There are closer places, he knows, but Joe makes them just right, with an chewy outer crust full of air bubbles, and an inner crust so thin that you have to fold the pizza to eat it. "New York style", Dad tells me with a nod, as if he were passing on a secret of manhood. "It's the only real pizza in York, Pennsylvania". I go with him at times, and Joe's seems old and scarred, in a part of town that I otherwise never see. It reminds me of Dad's home and youth, somewhere else.

Through the door now, he triumphantly holds the pies aloft above his screeching chicks as we flock around him. His role for once is clear, providing us not with intangible money or security, but with very real food. No hunter-gatherer had a more vocal or joyous welcome than we give to our father. He brings the pizza into the family room, setting the boxes on the island TV tray. We sniff and peak at the steaming cheese while Dad pours our soda, and we all wait for Mom.

Mom emerges from the kitchen, buoyed with freedom from cooking and dishes. She carefully inspects each pie - the Pepperoni is a little overdone - then carefully separates a piece for each of us, and two for Dad. It's her one contribution to this meal, and it seems crucial to me. When she finishes the ritual, we are free to ravage the pies at will.

As we settle into this cheesy orgy, I absently watch the Brady Bunch. Kathy takes advantage of the soda to launch a burp in my direction, I gulp air and top her effort. Dad silences us both with his own belch, aided by his first beer of the weekend.

We explode into giggles as Mom gives him a small, sharp look. He grins at us, and I see him differently from the father in the suit who comes home in the middle of dinner other nights of the week.

The Brady's end happily, and we roll happily into the Partridge Family. I drop a slice, and it lands cheese down. With a wary glance at Mom, who has seen but she says nothing, I wipe up the mess with a wad of napkins. Setting the floor piece aside with my uneaten crusts, I count four crusts. Kathy only has three. I'm ahead.

The meal begins to wind down, and Mom becomes herself again. She fusses at us to pile the plates and napkins into the pizza boxes. Dad picks cheese out of the box, then finds my crusts and continues his feast. Kathy and I are silent now, drugged with soda and calories. The Odd Couple is on, which we aren't allowed to watch, and we sit quietly, hoping to see it tonight. Mom notices our concentration, and turns off the set. She shepherds us upstairs to soap, toothpaste, and pajamas.

Later, we come back down scrubbed and sleepy, and Dad kisses us goodnight. The TV trays have been washed and stacked, and the pizza boxes are exiled to the trash cans outside. Tucked into my bed, I hear the TV set turned back on, loudly for a moment until the volume is lowered. Love, American Style is on; canned laughter and innuendo float upstairs, lulling me asleep. Mom's voice, softly. Then Dad's, low and comforting.

Toys R' Us

I'm probably a bit too old to be a "Toys R' Us" kid. Growing up in York, PA, there was no Toys R' Us nearby - we had a local toy store, which a quick internet search IDs as "Roger's Toy Store" (not in my memory banks, although I'm sure we shopped there). We more likely did our toy shopping at department stores - Hills, Woolworth's, McCrory's, Sears, Montgomery Wards. I've written here of the Sear's catalog being a holiday staple - pouring through the toy catalog each year.

Pretty sure the first we knew of Toys R' Us was during visits to Cherry Hill, NJ to visit our friends the Quinn family or family visits to Long Island where the commercials hit the local television stations.Those Toys R' Us commercials, jingles, and iconography are permanently seared in my head.

When we moved to Framingham, MA, there was a Toys R' Us store at Shopper's World; we'd ride our bikes down there to hang around in the summer, but high school me was probably a bit old to be that interested except for video games and such. And even then, there was competition; I remember a Child World in nearby Natick more clearly than Toys R' Us.

It's sad to see any retail store closing, but in some ways it's a combination of retail apocalypse and a hangover from the leveraged buyouts of the 00's (reportedly, a $5B debt left over from 2005 sealed the deal in terms of the company's liquidation)

There's a soon to be closed store near my house; I've been in there perhaps 5 times in the years I've lived here. I much prefer shopping at small local toy shops; or buying online.

Yet Another School Shooting

One of those long Facebook posts that I though better of and decided to move over to the blog....

The relationship of mass shooting to gun deaths is kind of like the relationship of airplane crashes to transportation deaths. By every measure (total deaths, per capita, per mile traveled) automobiles are 10s or 100s of times more risky than airplanes - but when a plane goes down, it's all over the media in a way that more mundane automobile accidents are not.

I'm not a gun advocate in any way, but the reality is that nearly 2/3 of gun deaths each year are suicides. And of actual homicides, most are by handguns (not assault weapons or rifles) and most victims are young men of color. The high visibility "gun issues" (mass killings, police killings, police deaths) are a thin slice of the actual number of gun deaths.

Banning assault weapons may make us feel better / safer but will only make a small dent in the "gun problem" this country finds itself in. I think the random nature of mass killings, and the way they extend violence out of more at risk communities, and into presumably safe spaces (schools, churches, performance spaces, whiter, and less economically disadvantaged) creates a more visceral reaction among the middle class and well to do. They shatter our illusion of safety and protection.

Mass Shootings Are A Bad Way To Understand Gun Violence FiveThirtyEight, Oct 3, 2017

This page gets to the heart of the matter, and there's a really interesting statistical tool that let's you peel apart gun violence by race, by age, by gender, and by type. The only thing it really lacks is a "type of firearm" pulldown which would, I think, be useful and informative.

As I mentioned, I am not a gun fan in any way; I'm a proponent of zero gun rights and if not that, highly regulated gun ownership. But I'm also a pragmatist and a numbers geek, and I watch with curiosity as the reaction to a mass killing far outweighs the statistical significance of the event. 

Six Feathers

There’s a pottery vase that a friend made sitting on a bureau in my living room. It has contained six feathers since last June when the 2017 teacher training ended. This afternoon, those six feathers moved up to the yoga room, placed into a mason jar on my altar with dozens of others - too many to count. It’s an almost ludicrous collection, keepsakes from many weekends, many journeys, many lives.


The living room vase now contains one red feather. I trust it will be filled up again come June...

Oreck Commercial BB900DGR XL Pro 5 Super Compact Canister Vacuum

This got delivered yesterday and I'm kind of smitten - replacing a Dirt Devil Featherlite that I bought in 2013 (when you blog about your vacuums, such dates are easily researched) which was starting to be a problem (power switch broke, attachments cracking). I mostly used it to vacuum stairs, but with the new vacuums shoulder strap, long cord, and light weight I'm already seeing myself cleaning edges, corners, ceiling cobwebs, etc. a lot more often. It will probably make a nifty car vac in warmer weather. It's also easily converted into a blower and I have no such applications but I'm sure I'll think of something. Maybe science experiments around Bernoulli's Principle or demonstrating airplane wing lift.....

I love the rugged, 30' red cord. I also own an Oreck Professional upright which is amazing. In an alternate universe I'm happily cleaning hotel rooms with my professional grade vacuums.

I've owned exactly three canister vacuums in my life - a Kenmore I bought in '83 that lasted 30 years, the Dirt Devil (5 years) and now this. Probably the last canister vacuum I'll own. It was a bargain ($90) and has the sort of clunky ruggedness and lack of any sort of design sense other than the functional that I appreciate.