It was the sort of farewell dinner that we're good at - coming together in our grief to remember our brother, to thank friends who stepped up at the end, to support each other. We three remaining Russells, a couple of partners, one nephew, and two couples - Kevin's friend Alex (who we've decided to adopt, he was amazing over the past months) and his girlfriend, and Tom's friends Jeff & Paula, who caught wind of Tom's illness near the end (Jeff's mom lives with Tom's landlady) and showed up big in the final few weeks.
Not a traditional memorial service by any means - I brought a bag full of photos that we passed around, we told stories, shared memories. No formal prayer or speeches or anything. More laughter and smiles than tears. We do the tears alone....
Figuring out how to memorialize our brother remains a challenge. The nature of his addiction and illness (let's just get it out there, alcoholism, resulting in end stage liver disease) meant he had stepped back from communities, friends, and life over the past decade. So while Tom would have wanted a big, classic wake and funeral with open casket and lines of mourners and all that - we knew it would be us, an empty room, a handful of people who did not know Tom, showing up for us. We neither need nor want that.
Similarly, there's no connection to our religion of origin for any of us. Tom professed to being a "strict roman catholic" in the hospital (mostly when it came to considering things like hospice, end of life decisions, choosing to pursue life extending treatments) but he's not been to church in many decades, and then only with mom. I'm sure the last time he showed up in the parish rolls was as a confirmee in his teens.
The nature of the post sex abuse scandal catholic church doubles down on the discomfort - Mom struggled with the lack of a resident parish priest (the parish is run by a nun these days, visiting priests, often from overseas, say mass and handle the sacraments), and Tom did as well. An older priest visited Tom in the hospital (at our request) to clear up some end of life issues (DNI, DNR, hospice care, all of which Tom thought were against catholic teaching) - he also performed the (choose one) last rites, sacrament of the sick, annointing of the oils and gave Tom communion. There was really no priest or parish to call on when he was in hospice care; a hospice chaplain stopped in a few times who Tom clicked with.
So, we're working on an obituary; I'll be putting together some sort of photo album. We'll convert his Facebook page to a memorial page and share things there. We're gathering pieces of his collection (knives, hats, coins) to share with cousins, friends, relatives who might want something to remember Tom by.
Later this summer, we'll travel to Lancaster, PA, to inter Tom's ashes in the family plot. (Mom had asked to be cremated so we could bury her over the summer when her family could be there, and there would be room in the plot for 1-2 of us kids). We'll get a priest for a graveside service, family from mom's side will be there. "It will be nice" as mom would say.
It might seem (from the outside) that we are taking this lightly, not honoring Tom. We're each dealing with deep, complicated emotions (sorrow, grief, anger, compassion, love), we're coming off several months of crisis mode as we dealt with Tom's illness (and his often erratic or irrational demand and responses around it), and we're looking at several months of work to peel apart Tom's life and belonging in a way that is respectful and honors the things he loved. Relationship Status: It's Complicated.
June 09, 2019
June 08, 2019
Post Tom: Day Three
I headed north again to work on Tom's place some more.
Once Elo moves on I'm gonna get some laminate flooring for the kitchen and living room....
- Finished sorting his trains, a sort of advanced level version of Concentration as I would pick up a box, look at the description, and try to match one of the loose cars or locomotives. I did pretty well - there were probably 20-30 pieces at the end with no matching boxes (not bad for a collection that exceeded 800 pieces).
Packed up in five boxes (including some accessories, some old copies of train magazines, a power supply, and a large cache of unopened accessories and parts. We trashed a small track layout, anything that was opened or loose, paint, solvents, brushes, etc. Still, an impressive collection.
These will come home with me next trip, I'll set up a spreadsheet to document what we have, and send to a few dealers to quote the whole pile. - Packed away a dozen or so small match-box / corgi type metal cars. Not sure if they are worth much, but could not hurt to check.
- Packed away a handful of beer steins and beer mugs. Again, no idea of value, but worth checking out. I was (pleasantly) surprised that my own stein collection (long gone, but I thought Tom might have taken them) was nowhere to be found.
- Filed all of his musical CDs - found that many of the boxes we'd packed the other day were empty, and found 4 CD folders containing the disks. Another game of advanced concentration matching those up. Threw out the unmatched disks and cases.
- Piled four boxes of DVDs (perhaps 300 or 350) in my cart and brought home. I've made contact with an organization that facilitates DVD donation for troops deployed troops, have three names / addresses to ship them to, and ordered some special boxes designed to hold 25 DVDs per box. Will cost a bit to send them (USPS Media Rate, discounted to APO addresses) but worth it; Tom was a big supporter of the troops. Will put a little note about Tom in the boxes.
Once Elo moves on I'm gonna get some laminate flooring for the kitchen and living room....
June 07, 2019
Post Tom: Day Two
As we start the onerous, painful, and occasionally surreal process of
settling Tom’s affairs, we tentatively step up to the cavern of
eternity, i.e. Tom’s apartment. I spent the yesterday there - disassembled the
bed (that we initially found with two boxsprings and two mattresses,
Tom needed a stool to climb in. He fought us but we convinced him to use
just one boxspring and one mattress). Boxed up DVD’s to donate or sell
(um, 400 of them). Started to box up his n-scale trains - over
700 pieces of rolling stock. Over 100 locomotives, most of which were
in a display case so I had to figure out which box to put them in. It’s a
big project.
I jokingly proposed some rules for the project.
#1: if you find an unopened, new in box, or tags still on item that you gifted Tom, you get first dibs. We found a lot of gifts he never got around to using (many from mom, who isn’t participating)
#2: if you decide you want something, you need to tell the others the story - why, what meaning. A way to get to know Tom and each other better.
#3: if Tom wanted you to have something, and it’s not something you want or need, it’s ok to not take it. No guilt. He was trying to give his stereo system to me all week. I’m 58, I’ve lived on my own for 12 years, I’ve had plenty of time to put together an audio system that meets my needs.
What I brought home, today:
#1: a little stuffed kitty I bought him during his first long stay at Beth Israel, when he was really missing Grace, his kitty. It reminds me of his softer, gentler side
#2: some noise canceling headphones I bought for him during the same hospital stay. He did not use them then, but they were perfect for dialysis, glad they made his life a little better for a few days.
#3: a hand made Asian scroll that I had apparently bought him during a trip to Hong Kong, 20+ years ago. He had it hung below two samurai swords he had, he even saved the box for it (which I almost tossed by accident) and was quite proud of the display. I have no idea what it says, I ought up to try to figure it out.
#4: PBS Alone in the Wilderness DVD’s - something he asked for and I bought him for Xmas. He would have liked that sort of life, I think. It will remind me of him.
It’s a bit sad to be in his home with him gone, and we’re constantly finding something that brings tears. But we three share just enough OCD / ADD characteristics, and have been itching to get our hands on the place (to clean, to organize, to purge and declutter) since he first got sick, but he would not let us touch much. So there’s something therapeutic in trying to clean up his life a bit, contribute to him a little, even after the fact.
I jokingly proposed some rules for the project.
#1: if you find an unopened, new in box, or tags still on item that you gifted Tom, you get first dibs. We found a lot of gifts he never got around to using (many from mom, who isn’t participating)
#2: if you decide you want something, you need to tell the others the story - why, what meaning. A way to get to know Tom and each other better.
#3: if Tom wanted you to have something, and it’s not something you want or need, it’s ok to not take it. No guilt. He was trying to give his stereo system to me all week. I’m 58, I’ve lived on my own for 12 years, I’ve had plenty of time to put together an audio system that meets my needs.
What I brought home, today:
#1: a little stuffed kitty I bought him during his first long stay at Beth Israel, when he was really missing Grace, his kitty. It reminds me of his softer, gentler side
#2: some noise canceling headphones I bought for him during the same hospital stay. He did not use them then, but they were perfect for dialysis, glad they made his life a little better for a few days.
#3: a hand made Asian scroll that I had apparently bought him during a trip to Hong Kong, 20+ years ago. He had it hung below two samurai swords he had, he even saved the box for it (which I almost tossed by accident) and was quite proud of the display. I have no idea what it says, I ought up to try to figure it out.
#4: PBS Alone in the Wilderness DVD’s - something he asked for and I bought him for Xmas. He would have liked that sort of life, I think. It will remind me of him.
It’s a bit sad to be in his home with him gone, and we’re constantly finding something that brings tears. But we three share just enough OCD / ADD characteristics, and have been itching to get our hands on the place (to clean, to organize, to purge and declutter) since he first got sick, but he would not let us touch much. So there’s something therapeutic in trying to clean up his life a bit, contribute to him a little, even after the fact.
June 06, 2019
Post Tom: Day One
A huge THANK-YOU for the outpouring of sympathy and love that came my way yesterday. Tom's illness and death was not sudden; his path was clear back in early April when the nature and magnitude of his many diseases was made evident. And really, the roots of this go back to 2012 when his health first became an issue, and 2016 when mom began to fail.
What has been hard is carrying this quietly, at Tom's request. Through three stays at Beth Israel Deaconness Hospital in Boston, two frantic days of multiple ambulance rides and long waits in the ER, dozens of trips north to support Tom in the hospital and at home, to clean and declutter his home so that he could return there, to ferry him to and from dialysis. It's become the new normal for us, and we're a bit relieved to have our lives back. Many of our close friends were in the loop, but this has come as a shock to many friends and family, and especially to Tom's social network, who were as recently as Sunday commenting that "you've got this, buddy" and "sending prayers for a speedy recovery" (apparently not really understanding the nature of the word "hospice")
When hospice was finally forced upon him (dialysis was no longer effective) he went grudgingly. We worked to set up his room with his memories and familiar gadgets, and we committed to be with him 24/7 because he was not a good patient, refused to stay in bed, and was a serious risk for a fall which might have taken him back to the hospital. Better us to stay with him than to find himself in restraints.
This has taken a toll on all of us, as well as our families, partners and communities who have generously given us time, space, and resources to care for Tom in ways that perhaps many would have stepped back from. So in a lot of ways we're collectively catching our breaths, sighing in relief that none of us were taken down through this process.
We're still trying to figure out what's next. Tom has amassed a lifetime of memories and collections in two small rooms that he refused to let us touch or deal with - we'll be peeling all that apart in the coming weeks. Perhaps our first shock and sadness came in seeing how he had been living, and over the past months we'd shake our heads at new discoveries at just how dysfunctional his life had become, with dozens of picked up but never used prescriptions, a decade of unopened mail, unpaid bills, piles of non-functioning technology and appliances.
Even as we hold in our hearts the memory of the vibrant and much-loved child that came into our lives through adoption back in 1967, we also struggle with the problematic adult he had become, and are grateful that his illness did not end up causing harm to others. There were so many ways this could have gone very badly wrong.
June 05, 2019
Two Months of Hell
Today was the nadir of a very long two months of Russell family hell. Our beloved brother Tom passed away, far too young, at the age of 51.
Without getting too deeply into things, on April 8th, my sister Kathy took Tom to see his liver doc in Boston (for swelling in his legs and purpura, red spots on his legs). The office APRN took his vitals (routine) and immediately directed him across the street to the Beth Israel Deaconess ER. Heart rate was 110 (turns out he was in A-Fib) and pulse ox was under 80. Turns out liver disease had started to affect pretty much every system in his body.
A chest x-ray (to investigate / confirm lung problems) discovered instead some metastasis (rib, spine, lymph nodes); elevated PSA pointed to Stage 4 prostate cancer as the most likely cause. A CT Scan with contrast media (to check out the cancer, among other things) seems to have pushed his damaged kidneys over the edge. Within the first few days in the Beth Israel ICU, he was looking at needing permanent oxygen, regular dialysis, and a lot of assistance - he had been struggling with strength and stamina for many months.
Tom spent three weeks in the hospital that first trip, about 1/2 that time in the ICU. A testosterone blocker held off the cancer. Transplants were off the table (for a number of reasons). The Beth Israel docs got him patched up - and at Tom's insistence, released him to his home, a place wholly unsuited for rehab and recovery. Tom would not consider other options (rehab, convalescent care, assisted living) even though overnight care, walker or wheelchair, or even having family stay with him was not possible at his place (he had a cat, and we're all very allergic).
We worked our asses off to get his place cleaned up (not quite a hoarder situation, but a lot of collections in way too small a place that had not been seriously cleaned in years, maybe decades). He came home for a week, then fell one night - another trip back to Beth Israel, via ambulance, with a stopover at Metrowest Medical (the hospital where our dad died back in 1979, so Tom freaked out and demanded to be taken elsewhere).
Another week in the hospital to get him patched up again, another week home. Another fall, this time getting tripped up in a bedside potty chair, and calling 911 because he thought he had broken a leg. Ambulance to Metrowest Medical, another freak out, another trip to Beth Israel. I ended up waiting in the Beth Israel ER with him both times, beds finally opened up after 7 pm so he was in the ER for 8-12 hours with little food (often NPO) and not a lot of attention (he was very sick, but not critical).
During the trips home, we'd gamely try to support him, despite his initial insistence that he did not need personal care assistants (he did, and finally got them), did not need overnight care (he did, but could not have it at home), did not need rides to dialysis (he tried to drive himself once, fortunately nobody got hurt). So we were on the hook to stay with him, drive him to/from dialysis, etc. Kathy coming from Mashpee on the cape, me from CT, Kevin was local. I have not tallied my mileage or trips but I was up somewhere between 2x a week and 5x a week, each of the past 8 weeks.
Finally, during this last return to Beth Israel, we had enough and were going to insist he go to a rehab facility - we could no longer care for him at home, get him safely to dialysis, etc. However, fate intervened before we needed to force his hand - when his body stopped responding to dialysis (BP too low) and they had to stop treatment. His options, live out the rest of his life in ICU (where he could get a more specialized form of dialysis, go home (and be back within days), or hospice. He chose hospice.
Tom was in hospice care for a week - we fixed up his room with many familiar items from his home - photos, plaques, keepsakes, tech - and committed to being with him 24/7 through the process. He was able to get out and around via wheelchair for the first few days, and feel less like a patient and more like a guest. We've been frantically googling conditions, medical terms, drugs, treatments throughout his illness, and the web reported that dialysis patients typically live about a week without treatment. Right on the money; Tom's last dialysis session was terminated on a Wednesday, and he died a the Wednesday after.
We're kind of catching our breaths. We've known this was going to be a one way trip for our brother since his first diagnosis - only unsure of how long and what this would look like. It's taken a huge toll on all of us. And while we are shattered and heart-broken, we're also a bit relieved. Tom needed far more in the way of care, support, and assistance than the three of us, and his living situation, were able to provide. Yet he stubbornly insisted he could handle things long after this was not true. We paid a price for that. And we're glad that he died in a bed, with family at his side to comfort him, as opposed to falling and bleeding out alone in his apartment.
Without getting too deeply into things, on April 8th, my sister Kathy took Tom to see his liver doc in Boston (for swelling in his legs and purpura, red spots on his legs). The office APRN took his vitals (routine) and immediately directed him across the street to the Beth Israel Deaconess ER. Heart rate was 110 (turns out he was in A-Fib) and pulse ox was under 80. Turns out liver disease had started to affect pretty much every system in his body.
A chest x-ray (to investigate / confirm lung problems) discovered instead some metastasis (rib, spine, lymph nodes); elevated PSA pointed to Stage 4 prostate cancer as the most likely cause. A CT Scan with contrast media (to check out the cancer, among other things) seems to have pushed his damaged kidneys over the edge. Within the first few days in the Beth Israel ICU, he was looking at needing permanent oxygen, regular dialysis, and a lot of assistance - he had been struggling with strength and stamina for many months.
Tom spent three weeks in the hospital that first trip, about 1/2 that time in the ICU. A testosterone blocker held off the cancer. Transplants were off the table (for a number of reasons). The Beth Israel docs got him patched up - and at Tom's insistence, released him to his home, a place wholly unsuited for rehab and recovery. Tom would not consider other options (rehab, convalescent care, assisted living) even though overnight care, walker or wheelchair, or even having family stay with him was not possible at his place (he had a cat, and we're all very allergic).
We worked our asses off to get his place cleaned up (not quite a hoarder situation, but a lot of collections in way too small a place that had not been seriously cleaned in years, maybe decades). He came home for a week, then fell one night - another trip back to Beth Israel, via ambulance, with a stopover at Metrowest Medical (the hospital where our dad died back in 1979, so Tom freaked out and demanded to be taken elsewhere).
Another week in the hospital to get him patched up again, another week home. Another fall, this time getting tripped up in a bedside potty chair, and calling 911 because he thought he had broken a leg. Ambulance to Metrowest Medical, another freak out, another trip to Beth Israel. I ended up waiting in the Beth Israel ER with him both times, beds finally opened up after 7 pm so he was in the ER for 8-12 hours with little food (often NPO) and not a lot of attention (he was very sick, but not critical).
During the trips home, we'd gamely try to support him, despite his initial insistence that he did not need personal care assistants (he did, and finally got them), did not need overnight care (he did, but could not have it at home), did not need rides to dialysis (he tried to drive himself once, fortunately nobody got hurt). So we were on the hook to stay with him, drive him to/from dialysis, etc. Kathy coming from Mashpee on the cape, me from CT, Kevin was local. I have not tallied my mileage or trips but I was up somewhere between 2x a week and 5x a week, each of the past 8 weeks.
Finally, during this last return to Beth Israel, we had enough and were going to insist he go to a rehab facility - we could no longer care for him at home, get him safely to dialysis, etc. However, fate intervened before we needed to force his hand - when his body stopped responding to dialysis (BP too low) and they had to stop treatment. His options, live out the rest of his life in ICU (where he could get a more specialized form of dialysis, go home (and be back within days), or hospice. He chose hospice.
Tom was in hospice care for a week - we fixed up his room with many familiar items from his home - photos, plaques, keepsakes, tech - and committed to being with him 24/7 through the process. He was able to get out and around via wheelchair for the first few days, and feel less like a patient and more like a guest. We've been frantically googling conditions, medical terms, drugs, treatments throughout his illness, and the web reported that dialysis patients typically live about a week without treatment. Right on the money; Tom's last dialysis session was terminated on a Wednesday, and he died a the Wednesday after.
We're kind of catching our breaths. We've known this was going to be a one way trip for our brother since his first diagnosis - only unsure of how long and what this would look like. It's taken a huge toll on all of us. And while we are shattered and heart-broken, we're also a bit relieved. Tom needed far more in the way of care, support, and assistance than the three of us, and his living situation, were able to provide. Yet he stubbornly insisted he could handle things long after this was not true. We paid a price for that. And we're glad that he died in a bed, with family at his side to comfort him, as opposed to falling and bleeding out alone in his apartment.
Death Day: Part II
And then there were three. Tom passed peacefully late this morning.
Kathy was at his side. Kevin visited last night. I had the overnight
shift.
It was pretty clear to me that his spirit had left overnight - his eyes were empty this morning and he did not move around at all. Keeping him safely in his bed had been a challenge over the past week but this morning he did not move.
He was surrounded by photos, plaques, things of meaning to him (including a crocheted quilt made by mom, a navy flight jacket he had made to honor dad, his beloved police and fire scanners and his Hogan's Heroes DVDs). I spent a day this past week going over his knife collection, Kathy spent a day going through 100s of police / fire / military patches with him. We have each spent more time with him in the past two months than we were able to over the past many years.
We're heart-broken and will need some time with our grief. Thank-you for your thoughts, prayers, kind words.
It was pretty clear to me that his spirit had left overnight - his eyes were empty this morning and he did not move around at all. Keeping him safely in his bed had been a challenge over the past week but this morning he did not move.
He was surrounded by photos, plaques, things of meaning to him (including a crocheted quilt made by mom, a navy flight jacket he had made to honor dad, his beloved police and fire scanners and his Hogan's Heroes DVDs). I spent a day this past week going over his knife collection, Kathy spent a day going through 100s of police / fire / military patches with him. We have each spent more time with him in the past two months than we were able to over the past many years.
We're heart-broken and will need some time with our grief. Thank-you for your thoughts, prayers, kind words.
Death Day: Part I
Cross-posted
from our family and friends support group. It’s long past the time when
Tom’s request that this remain private matters. Things like pride,
secrecy, how things look, have been at the root of his life struggle.
***********************
Status quo. Not sure if the relatively quiet night was related to meds, progression of the dying process, or circadian rhythm. Tom’s breathing is labored, noisy due to fluid build-up. But he seems less conscious / aware - yesterday there were moments of struggle as he wanted to sit up or vocalized “get me out of here”. Pretty sure Kathy, who was here Sunday and Monday nights, did the heavy lifting in terms of agitation, panic, trying to keep Tom calm. Just praying that the hospice team is doing the best they can to minimize pain and suffering. When he was agitated yesterday, I held his hand, talked to him of mom & dad, our grandparents, lost pets and relatives and friends. Told him it was ok to let go, that he was loved, that he would be missed.
This is so hard. The capacity of the human body to endure, to continue to grasp the last threads of life in the face of a lifetime of abuse is remarkable. Tom is so strong, so attached to life. And the irony - of healthy yet fragile lives lost so suddenly, to overdose or violence or accident or sudden illness - while this life seems so resilient, is not lost on me.
Since Tom’s initial hospitalization at the beginning of April, this has been a hard road for us all. Tom has raged against the darkness, fighting for every precious moment, every scrap of life, endured so many indignities, long after most of us would have folded up, given in. Stubborn as hell. “A little bullhead” as mom would say.
It does not seem like it will be long. But, knowing Tom, it might be longer than we think. We’re hanging in there. Thanks for continued love, support, prayers.
***********************
And an addendum, for my own timeline. As the nurse and aide came in this morning to check on Tom, I moved to the hall. Was quietly weeping as I wrote up the above. The nurse walked by to check on me, was I ok. I almost had to smile.
It’s the nature of my spiritual work that sadness and tears are welcomed. As someone who learned early and well to push down emotions, to bottle things up, sitting and weeping over a dying brother is appropriate, welcome even. No, I do not seek sadness or crave emotion. But when it’s there, it’s there.
So often we try to stop tears, calm anger in others, because these emotions make us uncomfortable. I’ve come to embrace these as I encounter them in students, trainees, friends. How can my own tears, as we work through this, be anything but appropriate.
***********************
Status quo. Not sure if the relatively quiet night was related to meds, progression of the dying process, or circadian rhythm. Tom’s breathing is labored, noisy due to fluid build-up. But he seems less conscious / aware - yesterday there were moments of struggle as he wanted to sit up or vocalized “get me out of here”. Pretty sure Kathy, who was here Sunday and Monday nights, did the heavy lifting in terms of agitation, panic, trying to keep Tom calm. Just praying that the hospice team is doing the best they can to minimize pain and suffering. When he was agitated yesterday, I held his hand, talked to him of mom & dad, our grandparents, lost pets and relatives and friends. Told him it was ok to let go, that he was loved, that he would be missed.
This is so hard. The capacity of the human body to endure, to continue to grasp the last threads of life in the face of a lifetime of abuse is remarkable. Tom is so strong, so attached to life. And the irony - of healthy yet fragile lives lost so suddenly, to overdose or violence or accident or sudden illness - while this life seems so resilient, is not lost on me.
Since Tom’s initial hospitalization at the beginning of April, this has been a hard road for us all. Tom has raged against the darkness, fighting for every precious moment, every scrap of life, endured so many indignities, long after most of us would have folded up, given in. Stubborn as hell. “A little bullhead” as mom would say.
It does not seem like it will be long. But, knowing Tom, it might be longer than we think. We’re hanging in there. Thanks for continued love, support, prayers.
***********************
And an addendum, for my own timeline. As the nurse and aide came in this morning to check on Tom, I moved to the hall. Was quietly weeping as I wrote up the above. The nurse walked by to check on me, was I ok. I almost had to smile.
It’s the nature of my spiritual work that sadness and tears are welcomed. As someone who learned early and well to push down emotions, to bottle things up, sitting and weeping over a dying brother is appropriate, welcome even. No, I do not seek sadness or crave emotion. But when it’s there, it’s there.
So often we try to stop tears, calm anger in others, because these emotions make us uncomfortable. I’ve come to embrace these as I encounter them in students, trainees, friends. How can my own tears, as we work through this, be anything but appropriate.
“This being human is a guest house. Every morning is a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor...Welcome and entertain them all. Treat each guest honorably. The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.” ~ Rumi
June 03, 2019
Gratitude
This morning, as I rest in a clean and comfortable bed, one word: gratitude.
For lungs that freely exchange O2 and CO2. For a heart that beats steady and strong. For kidneys that cleanse my blood. For a liver that removes toxins and does so much more. For legs strong enough to support my body.
For my home, my bed, my safe and comfortable nest. For a canine companion whose warranty has expired long ago but who continues to be there for me.
For open windows and fresh air and birds singing in the early dawn. For a spiritual path that gives me the tools to both embrace my own life and acknowledge / accept my own inevitable death. For friends and community that will not let me slip too far below the surface.
And for a family coming together in the midst of our individual pain, sadness, fear, and anger to support each other.
As we bear witness and try to provide comfort, as my brother struggles to cope with his failing body, his loss of autonomy, and his own mortality, I am reminded of how much I have to be thankful for, and how often I perhaps take all of these blessings for granted.
It’s been a long couple of months and my time and energy have been needed elsewhere. It will be a little while longer. Looking to come back into my life with a renewed sense of purpose and commitment soon.
For lungs that freely exchange O2 and CO2. For a heart that beats steady and strong. For kidneys that cleanse my blood. For a liver that removes toxins and does so much more. For legs strong enough to support my body.
For my home, my bed, my safe and comfortable nest. For a canine companion whose warranty has expired long ago but who continues to be there for me.
For open windows and fresh air and birds singing in the early dawn. For a spiritual path that gives me the tools to both embrace my own life and acknowledge / accept my own inevitable death. For friends and community that will not let me slip too far below the surface.
And for a family coming together in the midst of our individual pain, sadness, fear, and anger to support each other.
As we bear witness and try to provide comfort, as my brother struggles to cope with his failing body, his loss of autonomy, and his own mortality, I am reminded of how much I have to be thankful for, and how often I perhaps take all of these blessings for granted.
It’s been a long couple of months and my time and energy have been needed elsewhere. It will be a little while longer. Looking to come back into my life with a renewed sense of purpose and commitment soon.
February 19, 2019
Yoga Teacher Training - Round XII
When I did my 200 Hr Yoga Teacher Training in 2008, I never expected to teach yoga, and if I did end up teaching, never at my home studio (possibly one of the largest and best regarded in the state). And never never never in a million years did I have any aspirations, expectations, or even a fleeting desire or suspicion that I'd be part of the teacher training program.
And yet, here we are, 2019 and we're two months in to the studio's 12 teacher training class. I jumped into an assistants role midway through the 2010 training, and I've been there ever since. I think I had sub / temp / "until we find someone better" status for a year or so (no mention of me on the website for the 2011 training, but I made it onto the 2012 promotional material) but I guess it's worked out.
We started up again in January, and just finished our 2nd of 6 monthly training weekends. Once upon a time there would be a lot to say about it, but these days the training just kind of rolls on by. Which is not to say that it's not amazing to be part of, a huge privilege, and a lot of work (I picked up responsibility for updating most of the student and teacher printed material a few years back). But....you do something every year, for many years, and things start to run together, and some things end up getting done on auto-pilot.
I'm still kind of blue collar in terms of the yoga world - I went through a period of doing a lot of workshops and trainings but have stepped back from that in recent years, never did pursue a 500 Hr certification, and I could certainly get my E-RYT (experienced) which requires 1000 teaching hours. last time I checked I had taught 1530 classes, most of them 75 minutes long. So yeah, experienced.
And yet, here we are, 2019 and we're two months in to the studio's 12 teacher training class. I jumped into an assistants role midway through the 2010 training, and I've been there ever since. I think I had sub / temp / "until we find someone better" status for a year or so (no mention of me on the website for the 2011 training, but I made it onto the 2012 promotional material) but I guess it's worked out.
We started up again in January, and just finished our 2nd of 6 monthly training weekends. Once upon a time there would be a lot to say about it, but these days the training just kind of rolls on by. Which is not to say that it's not amazing to be part of, a huge privilege, and a lot of work (I picked up responsibility for updating most of the student and teacher printed material a few years back). But....you do something every year, for many years, and things start to run together, and some things end up getting done on auto-pilot.
I'm still kind of blue collar in terms of the yoga world - I went through a period of doing a lot of workshops and trainings but have stepped back from that in recent years, never did pursue a 500 Hr certification, and I could certainly get my E-RYT (experienced) which requires 1000 teaching hours. last time I checked I had taught 1530 classes, most of them 75 minutes long. So yeah, experienced.
A Late Winter / Early Spring Cleanse
A week ago, I was sitting in my naturopath's office for a regular check-up when she asked, in an offhanded way "would you be interested in a 21 day detox / cleanse?"
Without any significant information or a whole lot of calculation, I said "sure" - and came back home to sign up. $199, a pile of PDFs to download (which I printed out and GBC bound, because that's how I roll), and signed up for a Facebook support group. Certainly a spur of the moment decision, tapping in to my intuition I guess. That's how it usually is with me - I've come to expect "when the student is ready, the teacher appears" and so when opportunities, resources, professionals pop up in my path, I often jump aboard without a lot of doubt or ruminating.
So far, so good. It's a pretty simple regimen, focusing on cutting out foods that may be inflammatory,. So for 21 days, I'm abstaining from:
So far, so good. I feel good - lighter, less creaky in the joints, albeit a little less solid, a tiny bit spacey. I'm assuming any health benefits (weight, blood pressure, AIC, etc.) will be slower to show up, but so far so good. And the much feared caffeine withdrawal headache (I'm a pretty regular coffee drinker usually) which I expected never materialized. And I have been remarkable compliant - I've gotten prepared food just a few times - sushi with brown rice (teacher training weekend), prepared macro meals (also TT weekend, we get it catered in for staff and trainees), and some Stew Leonard's Sushi (once with evil white rice, one with riced cauliflower). But mostly I've been putting together meals from the supplied recipes or my own cleanse friendly concoctions.
My one quibble is with the individual who is running this / facilitating the support group. S/he keeps posting pictures of otherwise healthy food we can't have! It's nice you had a "1/2 sprouted grain english muffin with organic, natural peanut butter" and "Pho with beef meatballs" but it's kind of cruel to post pictures to folks you are theoretically supporting, who might be struggling with staying on the cleanse, and who cannot have that, no? I'll save my comments / feedback for the end of the cleanse (no need to stir stuff up now) but seriously....I've been in the social media and the holistic health fields for a long time, and it's common sense not to do that.
Without any significant information or a whole lot of calculation, I said "sure" - and came back home to sign up. $199, a pile of PDFs to download (which I printed out and GBC bound, because that's how I roll), and signed up for a Facebook support group. Certainly a spur of the moment decision, tapping in to my intuition I guess. That's how it usually is with me - I've come to expect "when the student is ready, the teacher appears" and so when opportunities, resources, professionals pop up in my path, I often jump aboard without a lot of doubt or ruminating.
So far, so good. It's a pretty simple regimen, focusing on cutting out foods that may be inflammatory,. So for 21 days, I'm abstaining from:
- Wheat / Gluten
- Dairy
- Nightshades (potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, eggplant)
- Caffeine
- Alcohol
- Sugar
- Peanuts
- Corn
- Fermented soy (tofu, tempeh, etc.)
- Animal protein (save seafood and clean / organic chicken)
- Sweet fruits (bananas, pineapple, mangos)
- Anything artificial (sweeteners, etc.)
- Anything processed (mixes, soups, etc.)
- Quinoa
- Brown Rice
- Greens (salad, kale, chard)
- Veggies (celery, carrots, cukes, broccoli, cauliflower)
- Beans (black, adzuki, garbanzo, etc.)
- Sea Vegetables
- Herbal Teas
- Chicken (for weeks 1 & 3, anyways)
- Eggs
So far, so good. I feel good - lighter, less creaky in the joints, albeit a little less solid, a tiny bit spacey. I'm assuming any health benefits (weight, blood pressure, AIC, etc.) will be slower to show up, but so far so good. And the much feared caffeine withdrawal headache (I'm a pretty regular coffee drinker usually) which I expected never materialized. And I have been remarkable compliant - I've gotten prepared food just a few times - sushi with brown rice (teacher training weekend), prepared macro meals (also TT weekend, we get it catered in for staff and trainees), and some Stew Leonard's Sushi (once with evil white rice, one with riced cauliflower). But mostly I've been putting together meals from the supplied recipes or my own cleanse friendly concoctions.
My one quibble is with the individual who is running this / facilitating the support group. S/he keeps posting pictures of otherwise healthy food we can't have! It's nice you had a "1/2 sprouted grain english muffin with organic, natural peanut butter" and "Pho with beef meatballs" but it's kind of cruel to post pictures to folks you are theoretically supporting, who might be struggling with staying on the cleanse, and who cannot have that, no? I'll save my comments / feedback for the end of the cleanse (no need to stir stuff up now) but seriously....I've been in the social media and the holistic health fields for a long time, and it's common sense not to do that.
December 07, 2018
Falcon Ridge Folk Festival - 2018 Most Wanted Winners
***********************************************************************
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.
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.
November 10, 2018
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.
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.
November 08, 2018
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.
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.
October 18, 2018
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.
September 29, 2018
Stop & Shop - New Logo?
Now, you may recall the most recent Stop & Shop logo (adapted or harmonized with parent company Giant Foods), circa 2008 - present.
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.....
September 22, 2018
Engineering while Female
A little while back, I came across an interesting site in my engineering work, and posted about it on Linked In:
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...
August 15, 2018
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.
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.
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.
June 05, 2018
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.....
June 02, 2018
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!
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!
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