Farewell, Falcon Ridge Folk Festival

The writing has been on the wall for a while now, but I think it's time to officially sever ties to the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival, which has been my summertime vacation, home, family, and retreat for 25+ years....

COVID was the straw that broke the camel's back; as the folk festival joined a few other things in my life that I realized no longer served me. 2020 was MIA due to COVID, 2021 was a one day mini-festival (I was at a family reunion in PA), and 2022 the festival officially moved to Goshen Fairgrounds (I was at a family wedding in VT). This year I have a couple of competing events (family vacation on the cape or a family reunion in PA) but really, I'm just kind of done.

Part of it is certainly the move out of Hillsdale, NY (where I had to camp) to Goshen, CT (where I could theoretically become a day-tripper - I drive that way 2-3 times a weekend for balloon chasing). Camping out for a week has a lot less allure.

Part of it is financial. When I started to crew chief it was a paid position - a token but it was something. That ended the year of the big flood; and never resumed. And meanwhile, I ended up spending more for crew supplies (ink, paper, binders, etc.) each year than I would have paid to simply go as a patron. 

Part of it is community - somewhere along the line I started working more and more and hanging out and/or listening to music less and less. When the various "we're going to play music all night" communities moved off the hill and into the flatlands, I was not able to sleep. And I was spending so much time at the merch tent that I never made it back to the campsite one year except to sleep. So I moved my campsite up near the merch tent so I could at least step away and relax a bit - but effectively destroying our "Camp Fudgie" community.  So it has not really been all that fun for a bunch of years. 

Finally, there is a long term frustration with the festival principals, who effectively run the fest like they did in 1992. The website is archaic, online ticketing mostly non-existent, social media as well. For someone who has cut her teeth on all of these things over the years, has offered services, advice, etc and been ignored because it would involve giving up control, it's been hard watching the festival (that I have truly loved) being nonchalantly flown into terrain. 

I used to be disgusted. Then I tried to be amused. Now I don't give a damn. 

And it's telling that other nearby fests - The Green River Festival in Greenfield, MA, the Black Bear Festival (also at Goshen, in the fall) appear to be doing all the things right that would have breathed new life into Falcon Ridge. I get regular emails and social media posts from both fests, all year long. I got an email from Green River that tonight is the deadline to pre-order festival merch. If Falcon Ridge had that sort of tech, social media, and merchandising savvy....it would have been enough to keep me interested. 

I'm actually a bit amused that the social media efforts of the "affiliated but not part of the festival" Thursday Night Music show (that started up on the hillside years ago) is at least 100x better than the much larger and more prestigious folk festival that it's saddled with, and it's all I can do to bite my tongue about that with each post that scrolls past. 

So yeah. I'm out. I'm pissed off. I'm sad. And will have to find something to do with the many hours and many dollars I had invested into the fest each year. 

Therapy Update

It's been a while since I updated the post-pandemic crisis. So here we are... 

First, I've been faithfully and happily investing time, energy, and dollars into a weekly therapy session, started back in August. It's good work, solid work, and M my therapist is a nice combination of wise, intuitive, and resonant (queer friendly and knowledgable, and in sync with the mish-mash of science / holistic belief that make up my internal world). I look forward to my weekly hour - challenging, often dredging up tears and grief, but always nourishing and positive. 

I've been down the therapy road a few times: 

• In the early 90's as I wrestled with gender issues (with a men's movement / Robert Bly beating drums in the woods therapist). I was not exactly reparative therapy, but definitely working to heal what he saw as wounded masculinity rather than accepting my trans nature. 
• In the late 90's, as a pretty happy and playful gender queer / androgyne, considering whether I needed / wanted to transition
• In the early 00's, as a candidate for gender transition, seeking psych approvals (mandated at the time) for hormones and surgery. As someone who had been a trans community fixture and pretty high functioning, it was all pro forma. 
• The end of the 00's, when I found a life coach / counselor to talk to as I navigated the end of a relationship and moving into my own place. 

And yet none of that work drilled down into the core. Understandable and forgiveable; pre-transition I needed my armor, my survival tools, just to make it through each day. The trauma was not just fresh, it was continuing. Now, late in life and with the end perhaps in sight, I finally am able to unpack it all.

And while the work continues, the list of stuff we've dug through in the past few months work has been impressive:

• First, a realization of how much I have lived my life in ways that are small, invisible, unobtrusive, inoffensive. I was intent on being "the good tranny", trying not to make waves, trying not to be visible, trying not to set off trip-wires with cisgender folks, with queer folk, with anyone. I've lived outside of gender for the better part of 15 years. 
• Next, a realization of the trauma that comes with transition. I've pretty much lost every single person, community, memory, experience from the first 30 years of my life. Family, friends, education, employment - almost entirely gone. And angry and resentful at the bulk of humanity who still have that history. 
  
• As a child, I was subjected to painful and traumatic medical procedures. Not repressed memories, I've noted and recalled this throughout my life. But I wrapped it in rationalization and minimized its impact. That little 5-6 year old kid tearfully walking into the doctors office alone to be painfully catheterized, over repeated visits. Yeah, that kid was traumatized, and carried that burden alone.
• That same kid, when gender started bubbling up as an issue, learned soon enough that there was no help coming from mom or dad - they had neither the information or the capacity to deal. So that became another burden that I was way too young to shoulder. But I did, equating these gender struggles with original sin. 
• Finally, as a marriage came to an end, I shouldered the responsibility entirely, and only now, 30 years down the road, am I letting go of the guilt (and the various souvenirs and memories) from that unfortunate attempt to live a "normal" life 
  

SiriusXM

Slightly annoyed at SiriusXM. My old car (a 2010 Chevy Malibu gifted to me by my mom) had Sirius XM and I had treated myself a few years back. Springsteen and Little Steven, of course, as well as NPS and PRX and MSNBC. But also (true confession) the 70s channel and especially American top 40 each weekend, where they replayed a 70s era show each weekend, hitting the classics but also the one-hit wonders and the schlock. Loved it all. My new car (a Nissan Versa) does not have the Sirius antenna - so a few days after I tried to download the app so I could listen via Apple Carplay. No dice. After working my way through the website, and then talking to two service reps for over 90 minutes, I gave up. A few days later I got a letter from Sirius who apparently got wind that the car was sold, cancelled the account and I have a credit for remaining time on my last year. Why the service reps I spoke to were unable to figure all that out, I have no idea. The funny thing is that Nissan is sending me emails with a 3 month free promotional offer for the Sirius app. Which is what I was looking for to begin with. But the whole encounter with the Sirius service folks left such a foul taste in my mouth I'm just going to walk away....

New Car

After many months (years, really) of hemming and hawing, and spending way too much money trying to keep my old car (a 2010 Chevy Malibu gifted to me by my mother as she was letting go of driving), I bought a new car. I am the (sort of) proud owner of a 2023 Nissan Versa. I've been driving an old car for many years - the Malibu was in good shape when I got it (2016?), and was in fact in nice shape when I let it go - newer tires, fancy rims, rebuilt transmission, good engine, good brakes. But the computers and controls were a hot mess - with an annoying engine temp / cooling system problem that 3 trips to Pep Boys and 3 trips to the dealer failed to resolve, and finally an Electronic Steering Control issue that went from a small annoyance to a total safety hazard. It cost me $350 at the dealer to be told $1200 for the part (steering column) and 12 week lead time. It was time.... So after a bit of virtua tire kicking, and consideration of a used Volvo wagon (kind of my dream car, but I'm tired of having to get an older car fixed), I opted for a Nissan, not quite so theft-worthy as a Honda or Toyota, nor the lower end Kia and Hyundai that apparently are TikTok targets. Apparently Ford has dropped out of the car market completely, and I've had my fill of GM products. I'm not quite set up (financially or charging infrastructure) for an electric car. So a small Nissan it is. I'm already enjoying 50% better mileage (~36 MPG vs. ~24 MPG for the Malibu). I was feeling pretty punk about it all (having gotten very used to no car payments, low insurance, and low property taxes), and thinking I should have pulled the trigger two year ago, but the dealer finance woman noted that two years ago, cars were hard to get and anything they did have was going for $4-5K over MSRP. I'm already enjoying a 13 year bump in technology - back-up camera, emergency stopping (vehicle or pedestrian), road drift warnings (you get a familiar rumble as if you were driving over ruble strips when you cross a painted line), Apple Carplay. I do miss keyless entry (no key fob) and auto-start (not so much now but when it gets cold). But I'll adapt. I learned to drive in a '69 Ford Ranch Wagon and a '73 AMC Hornet, so I'm pretty grateful for any sort of decent wheels.

Find My Phone

Yesterday's adventure into the long, slow slide into some form of mental incapacity: I played the Find My Phone sound four times as I hunted frantically in my bedroom; the sound seemed to move around the room. The phone was, of course, in my back pocket....so it always seemed to be behind me.

I'll be setting up a Go Fund Me for my move to assisted living soon . . .

The Villa Restaurant, Wayland, MA

 

Somewhere in the past, 2016 or earlier, the Russell family went out to dinner at this place. Either Mom or brother Tom recommended it - comfortable, affordable, simple food with good portions. There may or may not have been a family photo taken. Somehow I got onto their email list.

 

Mom died at the end of 2016, Tom died in 2019. We've had three years of pandemic in the ensuing years that temporarily shuttered most restaurants and permanently closed many. And still I remain on their email list and have not quite gotten around to unsubscribing.

 

Such is the nature of grief and loss. You hang on to the dumbest things because you don't want to forget.

New Year's Resolutions

 I've never been the type to make New Year's resolutions - generally not my style or speed, and certainly none of the more traditional sorts of things. However, as I have been wrestling with a certain life malaise, this seems like a good time to turn over a new leaf. Or perhaps to pick up some leaves that have fallen and scattered over the years. 

First, I am going to blog regularly. From my heyday (2006-2008) when I posted ~500 times a year), I am down to 8 (2020), 5 (2021) and 4 (2022). It's kind of embarrassing. I need to write more about all sorts of stuff. 

 Part of the reason I stopped blogging has been social media (and more specifically, Facebook) which captures most of my heretofore blogged posts. I plan to go through my FB contributions, find longer and heftier posts, and back-fill them in here, for the permanent record.

Next, I am going to resume regular neighborhood trash pick-ups (I got out this afternoon and got 1/2 the regular route covered). I need to fresh air and exercise and I do better when my world is less of a shit-hole. So let's start on the block. 

I vow to stay up later. I've recently gotten into a bad habit of crawling into bed very early (especially since the time change) and screwing around online for hours while horizontal. I'll give myself permission to continue to screw around online, but not while in bed. 

I'm going to practice (yoga) more. Right now I'm doing the bare minimum and I need more time on the mat, more time sitting. I doubt I'll ever return to formal classes (too complicated and entangled with all the other stuff I am working with) but I'm perfectly able to practice on my own more consistently and disciplined. 

There's a ton of other stuff, related to food and chores and exercise and money and . . . but this is enough, for now.