I took a break from intense spiritual texts to read some light chick lit. For many years, I’ve seen ladies reading Jodi Piccoult books on the train. I was pretty sure it wasn’t my style of book, but I was curious. A number of people recommended “My Sister’s Keeper” to me, so when I saw it on sale at Salvation Army for 25 cents, I decided to make the investment.
At first I thought it may be bad timing to read a book about a child that has cancer. But part of me wanted to wallow in the sadness. It turned out, there was no wallowing. Just annoyance with every single one-dimensional character. And that ridiculously selfish mother. She was masterful at making absolutely every situation in life about her. It was as if her kid getting cancer was the highlight of her life because now she could have a real problem to brag about. Also, the writing was beyond corny. Two thumbs down on that one.
Then I read “Some Girls: My Life in a Harem” by Jillian Lauren. It’s your basic tale of a girl from Jersey that leaves home at 16, becomes a sex worker in NYC and then finds herself in a Prince’s harem in Borneo. That ‘ol story. I loved it. It’s not the most amazing writing but I was hooked (that’s what hookers do- they get you hooked! See what I did there!) from the beginning. Her description of a party with the Prince and his harem sounded a lot like a cocktail party on an episode of The Bachelor. In other words, misogynistic, bizarre and something I feel the need to know about. I need to put more tales of polygamy on my book list. It’s a recipe for page-turning.
And now for some really uplifting reading. My recent blog posts for the 'ol church blog:
Some thoughts on death!
Some thoughts on crying!
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Looks like it's time for another Rally for Sanity.
Is Crazy Eddie in charge of budget negotiations? Because this is IN-SANE.* This impending government shutdown and the rhetoric surrounding it is completely over the top.
I’m quite politically progressive. I’m all for government funding social services. But all this talk about the proposed cuts to Planned Parenthood as a “war against women” seems a wee bit hyperbolic. Planned Parenthood is NOT synonymous with women. It is one organization out of many that serves women. I get it that people are angry because it’s an organization that is important to them, and the services that it provides are important to them. But if Republicans are pushing to cut funding to that ONE ORGANIZATION it is not an entire WAR against women. Planned Parenthood is not a necessary institution that is required to ensure that women have rights in the United States of America.
How about we get a real healthcare system so that every man, woman and child can get basic medical care and screenings? The fact that one nonprofit organization potentially losing government funding is equated to war points to a much bigger issue. Speaking of which, I’m really sick of the war analogy in general. My ability to get a low-cost pap smear should not be compared to a situation in which an innocent Iraqi child gets obliterated by a missile or a soldier watches his entire battalion die and has to live with the consequences. Yes, health screenings are important and save lives but the repeated analogy to war, when we have multiple actual wars going on, seems very callous to me.
Not that it makes it right but there are worthy organizations going under every day. Good, necessary, programs are folding left and right. Last year Medicaid was slashed and many of the clients served at my job no longer received benefits. These are all people who have been diagnosed with a severe mental illness. Take a large group of people with severe mental illness, who are often either unemployable or unable to work full-time and earn a living wage, and take away their benefits, and now you have a large group of homeless individuals with severe mental illness. Crime increases. Incarcerations increase. And now we’re paying at least five times what we’ve paid to house the person and provide support services, just to keep him or her in jail. And instead of that person being a happy, contributing member of society, he or she is now sitting in jail. Add the cost on society and the crime victims, and the social service employees who lost their jobs and the whole thing is a HORRIBLE IDEA. I don’t know that this was a WAR on anyone. It was just really poor, short-sighted, decision-making.
As proposed cuts go…the proposed cut to the EPA really enrages me. The Environmental Protection Agency is a government agency that exists to protect human health and the environment. Slashing their budget? How does THAT make sense? Just look to the crisis in Japan to see how important air quality is.
The fact that the incessant talk of the importance of spending cuts NEVER seems to include even glancing at military spending- hoo boy…that makes my blood boil.
I don’t know the answers to this whole mess. I do know that it’s both more complicated yet simpler than the media continually makes it out to be. It’s not us/them. It’s us. None of us are beyond a health scare, or a natural disaster that would have environmental consequences, or a layoff. I really pray that everyone involved in these talks right now who are making these extremely important decisions are actually listening to each other, and make decisions out of concern for EVERY human being, and not just to stay true to party lines or to be right. This us/them crap isn’t working. Let’s try something new already.
*Was Crazy Eddie just a northeast thing?
I’m quite politically progressive. I’m all for government funding social services. But all this talk about the proposed cuts to Planned Parenthood as a “war against women” seems a wee bit hyperbolic. Planned Parenthood is NOT synonymous with women. It is one organization out of many that serves women. I get it that people are angry because it’s an organization that is important to them, and the services that it provides are important to them. But if Republicans are pushing to cut funding to that ONE ORGANIZATION it is not an entire WAR against women. Planned Parenthood is not a necessary institution that is required to ensure that women have rights in the United States of America.
How about we get a real healthcare system so that every man, woman and child can get basic medical care and screenings? The fact that one nonprofit organization potentially losing government funding is equated to war points to a much bigger issue. Speaking of which, I’m really sick of the war analogy in general. My ability to get a low-cost pap smear should not be compared to a situation in which an innocent Iraqi child gets obliterated by a missile or a soldier watches his entire battalion die and has to live with the consequences. Yes, health screenings are important and save lives but the repeated analogy to war, when we have multiple actual wars going on, seems very callous to me.
Not that it makes it right but there are worthy organizations going under every day. Good, necessary, programs are folding left and right. Last year Medicaid was slashed and many of the clients served at my job no longer received benefits. These are all people who have been diagnosed with a severe mental illness. Take a large group of people with severe mental illness, who are often either unemployable or unable to work full-time and earn a living wage, and take away their benefits, and now you have a large group of homeless individuals with severe mental illness. Crime increases. Incarcerations increase. And now we’re paying at least five times what we’ve paid to house the person and provide support services, just to keep him or her in jail. And instead of that person being a happy, contributing member of society, he or she is now sitting in jail. Add the cost on society and the crime victims, and the social service employees who lost their jobs and the whole thing is a HORRIBLE IDEA. I don’t know that this was a WAR on anyone. It was just really poor, short-sighted, decision-making.
As proposed cuts go…the proposed cut to the EPA really enrages me. The Environmental Protection Agency is a government agency that exists to protect human health and the environment. Slashing their budget? How does THAT make sense? Just look to the crisis in Japan to see how important air quality is.
The fact that the incessant talk of the importance of spending cuts NEVER seems to include even glancing at military spending- hoo boy…that makes my blood boil.
I don’t know the answers to this whole mess. I do know that it’s both more complicated yet simpler than the media continually makes it out to be. It’s not us/them. It’s us. None of us are beyond a health scare, or a natural disaster that would have environmental consequences, or a layoff. I really pray that everyone involved in these talks right now who are making these extremely important decisions are actually listening to each other, and make decisions out of concern for EVERY human being, and not just to stay true to party lines or to be right. This us/them crap isn’t working. Let’s try something new already.
*Was Crazy Eddie just a northeast thing?
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
The proposed funding cut to the Arts ENRAGES me.
This proposal to cut arts funding infuriates me. It makes NO sense. First of all, we have the money. That’s totally not the issue. We all know those depressing stats about how the top tiny percent has as much money as the bottom ginormous percent. Our economy didn’t crash because money evaporated. The people at the top are living larger than ever. We know this. It’s a fact.
Ask anyone what they like to do in their free time or what makes them happiest and the large majority will mention things like seeing live music, listening to music, going to movies, reading, photography. Ask Chicagoans why they love Chicago and you’ll hear most mention things like theater, comedy, music and art. When we try to communicate with people who don’t speak our language, we immediately can share art. It’s the friggin UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE, people! Why on earth would we cut the universal language?
Arts programming for kids. These are the classes kids enjoy. These are the classes where kids are paying attention. And learning teamwork and discipline and building self-esteem and having healthy outlets for stress and developing creativity and thinking of new ways to see things and adding beauty to a freaking beautiful world. WHY THE MOTHER F WOULD WE CUT THESE PROGRAMS?!?
I’m pretty sure if you asked my Thursday night Guitar 4ever class at Old Town what the top 3 highlights of their week are- every single person would include that class. I can not stress enough how important that is. That one class is adding happiness to that group of 15 or so people. A healthy outlet for stress, a way to make friends, a way to develop a new skill, a way to create something new and lovely. I way to remember how awesome “Love My Way” by the Psychedelic Furs is. All that goodness adds to how that group of people will carry themselves out in the world. Multiply that by the thousands of students at that one school. Then multiply that by all the theaters and the dance studios and the writing workshops in every town across our country. That’s a lot of goodness going out into the world. Sure, it may not always be goodness in terms of quality but it’s still goodness.
When I was leaving work today, there was a group of clients in the lobby waiting for their theater rehearsal to begin. They were giddy. They're always giddy on Wednesdays before rehearsal. Chatting and laughing and talking about the upcoming performances. This group of people, who suffer from severe mental illness and are often ignored by society, have a chance to express themselves and make friends and have a purpose. They're learning new, healthy ways, of living. They're developing skills. They're having fun. Having spent a large portion of the day pouring over sobering statistics of the number of mentally ill in prison, it's crystal clear to me that programs like this theater program or no small thing. From a purely economical perspective- we should pour a ton MORE money into the arts. Drama class is WAY cheaper than prison.
A few years ago a couple friends and I were volunteering at an orphanage in Cambodia. One of our jobs was to teach English classes to the kids. My one friend and I were assigned to a class. Neither of us are teachers. We were faced with a class of about 30 eager, smiling children, ready to learn. It was quickly clear to us that none of the kids spoke a lick of English. They smiled at us. We smiled at them. My friend and I looked at each other, not knowing what to do. The book we’d been given was WAY over their heads.
So we sang the "Itsy Bitsy Spider." Soon enough, they were singing the "Itsy Bitsy Spider." Throughout the few weeks we were there, we attempted lessons on colors and animals and basic phrases and directions, but the thing that stuck were the songs. Every day the highlight of the class was the run through of our set list. Soon kids were teaching us the Khmer words for animals and colors and basic phrases, but the thing that really stuck with me the most were the dances they showed us how to do.
It’s not really news that the arts are pretty much the best way we have to share stories and sharing stories is what builds relationships and energizes communities and helps us to understand each other and that is what is going to prevent war and allow every person to live the life of freedom and peace that he or she deserves to live. This is not hippy bullshit. It’s how it would motherfreaking work if we actually recognized it and valued it. Valued it with cold hard cash.
I better go write a song about this before I break something.
But before that, let me leave this on a happy note. Here's video of that class in Cambodia singing "Itsy Bitsy Spider."
Ask anyone what they like to do in their free time or what makes them happiest and the large majority will mention things like seeing live music, listening to music, going to movies, reading, photography. Ask Chicagoans why they love Chicago and you’ll hear most mention things like theater, comedy, music and art. When we try to communicate with people who don’t speak our language, we immediately can share art. It’s the friggin UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE, people! Why on earth would we cut the universal language?
Arts programming for kids. These are the classes kids enjoy. These are the classes where kids are paying attention. And learning teamwork and discipline and building self-esteem and having healthy outlets for stress and developing creativity and thinking of new ways to see things and adding beauty to a freaking beautiful world. WHY THE MOTHER F WOULD WE CUT THESE PROGRAMS?!?
I’m pretty sure if you asked my Thursday night Guitar 4ever class at Old Town what the top 3 highlights of their week are- every single person would include that class. I can not stress enough how important that is. That one class is adding happiness to that group of 15 or so people. A healthy outlet for stress, a way to make friends, a way to develop a new skill, a way to create something new and lovely. I way to remember how awesome “Love My Way” by the Psychedelic Furs is. All that goodness adds to how that group of people will carry themselves out in the world. Multiply that by the thousands of students at that one school. Then multiply that by all the theaters and the dance studios and the writing workshops in every town across our country. That’s a lot of goodness going out into the world. Sure, it may not always be goodness in terms of quality but it’s still goodness.
When I was leaving work today, there was a group of clients in the lobby waiting for their theater rehearsal to begin. They were giddy. They're always giddy on Wednesdays before rehearsal. Chatting and laughing and talking about the upcoming performances. This group of people, who suffer from severe mental illness and are often ignored by society, have a chance to express themselves and make friends and have a purpose. They're learning new, healthy ways, of living. They're developing skills. They're having fun. Having spent a large portion of the day pouring over sobering statistics of the number of mentally ill in prison, it's crystal clear to me that programs like this theater program or no small thing. From a purely economical perspective- we should pour a ton MORE money into the arts. Drama class is WAY cheaper than prison.
A few years ago a couple friends and I were volunteering at an orphanage in Cambodia. One of our jobs was to teach English classes to the kids. My one friend and I were assigned to a class. Neither of us are teachers. We were faced with a class of about 30 eager, smiling children, ready to learn. It was quickly clear to us that none of the kids spoke a lick of English. They smiled at us. We smiled at them. My friend and I looked at each other, not knowing what to do. The book we’d been given was WAY over their heads.
So we sang the "Itsy Bitsy Spider." Soon enough, they were singing the "Itsy Bitsy Spider." Throughout the few weeks we were there, we attempted lessons on colors and animals and basic phrases and directions, but the thing that stuck were the songs. Every day the highlight of the class was the run through of our set list. Soon kids were teaching us the Khmer words for animals and colors and basic phrases, but the thing that really stuck with me the most were the dances they showed us how to do.
It’s not really news that the arts are pretty much the best way we have to share stories and sharing stories is what builds relationships and energizes communities and helps us to understand each other and that is what is going to prevent war and allow every person to live the life of freedom and peace that he or she deserves to live. This is not hippy bullshit. It’s how it would motherfreaking work if we actually recognized it and valued it. Valued it with cold hard cash.
I better go write a song about this before I break something.
But before that, let me leave this on a happy note. Here's video of that class in Cambodia singing "Itsy Bitsy Spider."
Sunday, March 27, 2011
You Can Take The Girl Outta Jersey
I’ve been loading up all my CDs into itunes on my new computer and it’s been quite a journey down musical memory lane. With thousands of songs to choose from covering indie rock, alt-country, regular country, plain old rock ‘n roll, pop, dance, folk, hip hop, classical, blues and God knows what else, yesterday I listened to the soundtrack from the Broadway show “13” twice in a row. I am my gay brother’s sister. There’s just something about one of my Saturday afternoon neurotic cleaning episodes that is sometimes best accompanied by show tunes.
Last night I saw a group of Old Town School folks do a tribute to Springsteen’s Darkness tour at the Viaduct. That means all stuff from Springsteen’s first 4 albums, which are my favorite 4 Springsteen albums. So many of the songs gave me intense memories. “Candy’s Room” took me back to the basement at 18 Holly. I was about eight years old and discovered the “Darkness On The Edge of Town” 8-track in the little wooden homemade 8-track holder, somewhere between ELO’s Greatest Hits and the soundtrack to “Grease”. I would usually play the first track only which was “Badlands”, “Adam Raised a Cain” and “Candy’s Room.” Over and over. Listening to those songs now, I can smell the musty basement air, see the puke-green painted basement stairs and that creepy clown paint by numbers that still hangs on the concrete wall to this day.
“Spirit in the Night” takes me back to the summer of 1992. I was home from college on my break, and my summer temping job hadn’t yet begun. It was a hot and sunny afternoon, and I got in my red Pontiac Grand Prix and drove to pick something up at Caldor on Route 10. When I was on my way home “Spirit in the Night” came on WDHA, “The Rock of New Jersey.” I did the obvious, and blasted it, singing along at the top of my lungs. One listen wasn’t enough so I popped the “Greetings From Asbury Park” cd into my player (which was of course a separate contraption that hooked up to the cassette player in the car). I just kept driving and driving, screaming along to Springsteen, watching the heat rise from the pavement in front of me. I was so happy. I had no real responsibilities. It was summer. I was in love. I finished up year one of college and was excited for year two. I felt free. I was, in that moment, the best of Jersey stereotypes in action.
Get off the porch. Get into my car. Let’s drive down the shore.
The smell of freshly poured asphalt, cherry Slurpee, Forsythias, salt water and funnel cakes with music blasting and my friends and I cracking up over pretty much nothing... Jersey is a lot more than mobsters and sluts. Snooki and The Situation aren’t even from Jersey, fer Pete’s sake.
That said, stereotypes are born in reality. This conversation once happened when I was in high school:
Mom: Who’s the guy that called?
Me: (Super Italian name)
Mom: He sounded nice. Do you like him?
Me: I’m not sure. He asked me out.
Mom: What’s his Dad do?
Me: He’s in waste management.
Mom: DON’T GO OUT WITH HIM.
(I didn’t wind up going out with him and I think my Mom’s instincts were correct on that one.) Also, I’m hoping there are no long-term health effects from second-hand Drakar Noir inhalation because if so, I’m screwed. But I digress…
“Born To Run” comes with a ton of different memories. One of my favorites was when my friend Judy and I, both super fans, saw Springsteen play for the first time at Madison Square Garden. “Born To Run” was playing and the entire stadium of thousands were on their feet, singing along to every word. I remember thinking how there was nothing in the world like being in a room full of thousands of people who are all singing the same song. Then I turned to my friend and she took a quick break from screaming the lyrics at the top of her lungs, to yell to me, “I’VE NEVER BEEN THIS HAPPY IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.” Thinking about that moment cracks me up and makes me get a little choked up. Musical bliss.
As I continue to load up these cds, no matter how much I’ll wind up listening to Neutral Milk Hotel, Iron & Wine, or The Smiths, or maybe James Taylor, Ella Fitzgerald and The Beatles or even Timberlake, Bruce Springsteen will always be the boss of me.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Links for a Rainy Sunday
I was asked to write a weekly post on my church's blog. A bunch of people have agreed to take on spiritual practices during Lent, and write a weekly reflection on the whole experience. I've never been much of a Lent gal, but I took on the challenge. Here's this week's post.
I just came across this video/photo montage that I put together from the Eastern European portion of the trip I took a few years ago. It made me nostalgic and made me realize I need to make more of them with the rest of that trip, and other trips. Mostly just for myself. I'm always a sucker for a photo montage and some Grey's Anatomy soundtrack type music playing over it.
I just came across this video/photo montage that I put together from the Eastern European portion of the trip I took a few years ago. It made me nostalgic and made me realize I need to make more of them with the rest of that trip, and other trips. Mostly just for myself. I'm always a sucker for a photo montage and some Grey's Anatomy soundtrack type music playing over it.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Recovery
The situation in Japan has made me think about my experiences with the little bit of volunteering I did in New Orleans after Katrina and in Khao Lak, Thailand a few years after the tsunami there. When I see what’s going on in Japan I just pray that everyone gets the food and water and shelter that they need, and that once the basic needs are met that everyone has the resources they’ll need to rebuild communities and recover from the trauma of it all. It’s all so overwhelming.
When I think about Khao Lak, in particular, my heart melts. I hate that it was a tsunami that led me to even know that lovely town exists, but I guess that’s how some things sometimes go. The community that has formed there since the tsunami is incredible. Volunteers from all over the world have gone to help. Some for a week, some for a few months, and others have relocated there and made it their home. Each person pitching in with their own set of skills- photography, teaching, construction, music, fundraising, or just good old fashion hospitality.
Here’s a little bit about Khao Lak from the blog my friend and I kept during our travels.
Khao Lak
I’ve been thinking a lot about this place over the last week. Apparently I wasn’t the only one. One of the women who worked with the volunteer group there, created an FB event today for a reunion in Khao Lak in December of 2014. That will be the 10 year anniversary of the tsunami. Seeing all the people responding…from all over the world…excited to reunite…it gave me some hope for the people in Japan right now. There’s a lot of bullshit in this world but I really believe that when it comes down to it, the good people outnumber the bad. We may not be able to prevent natural disasters, but I hope that something this tragic can bring out the very best in humanity.
The recovery needs in Japan may be quite different than what was/is needed in the communities I experienced in New Orleans and Thailand but no matter the needs and the recovery approaches taken, there are opportunities to save lives, form new communities of friends, break down cultural barriers and expand worldviews.
I’m already looking forward to December 2014 in Khao Lak.
When I think about Khao Lak, in particular, my heart melts. I hate that it was a tsunami that led me to even know that lovely town exists, but I guess that’s how some things sometimes go. The community that has formed there since the tsunami is incredible. Volunteers from all over the world have gone to help. Some for a week, some for a few months, and others have relocated there and made it their home. Each person pitching in with their own set of skills- photography, teaching, construction, music, fundraising, or just good old fashion hospitality.
Here’s a little bit about Khao Lak from the blog my friend and I kept during our travels.
Khao Lak
I’ve been thinking a lot about this place over the last week. Apparently I wasn’t the only one. One of the women who worked with the volunteer group there, created an FB event today for a reunion in Khao Lak in December of 2014. That will be the 10 year anniversary of the tsunami. Seeing all the people responding…from all over the world…excited to reunite…it gave me some hope for the people in Japan right now. There’s a lot of bullshit in this world but I really believe that when it comes down to it, the good people outnumber the bad. We may not be able to prevent natural disasters, but I hope that something this tragic can bring out the very best in humanity. The recovery needs in Japan may be quite different than what was/is needed in the communities I experienced in New Orleans and Thailand but no matter the needs and the recovery approaches taken, there are opportunities to save lives, form new communities of friends, break down cultural barriers and expand worldviews.
I’m already looking forward to December 2014 in Khao Lak.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Danny's St. Patty's Day Countdown
My friend Danny began a countdown to St. Patrick's Day at the 14 day point. Each day he sends out an email to a group of friends and family with St. Patty's Day related facts, stories and music. I love a theme. I love stories. I love this countdown. Danny was kind enough to ask me to contribute a story for the countdown. My contribution was sent out today. Here it is:
From Danny:
San Francisco is a well-known destination for the Irish, and is right up there with Boston, New York, and Chicago. It is also the home of the Irish coffee, which was invented in 1952 at the Buena Vista Cafe right by Ghiradelli Square and Fisherman's Wharf. San Francisco is also where I met my close friend Mary Colleran, a true rock star happens to be one of the best writers I know! A world traveler, a musician, a resident of the Windy City, and one amazing creator of prose, I asked if she would be willing to submit a short, and very true, story of our San Francisco St. Patrick's Day from 2003-2004. And she absolutely rose to the challenge! I just wish I could remember the joke I told. But with one week remaining, I would like to share with you Mare's thought's on all that is good, all that is Irish, all that is St. Patrick's Day:
Hello family and friends of Danny,
I’m thoroughly enjoying Danny’s countdown to St. Patrick’s Day. Informative, funny and entertaining. Just like our Danny. When Danny asked if I’d like to contribute a story to the countdown I gladly accepted. It’s truly an honor.
I had the privilege of sharing St. Patrick’s Day with Danny in…2003? We were both living in the Bay Area, and met up to attend the San Francisco St. Patrick’s Day street festival. As I’m sure you’re all aware, hanging out with Danny almost always includes making new friends and enjoying a frosty beverage usually accompanied by some sweet tunes, and laughing hysterically. This night was no different. Except, in my experience, unlike this fateful St. Patty’s Day, nights hanging out with Danny don’t usually involve a 60-something named Barbara.
Danny and I befriended a group of strangers in the middle of the street. We shared stories and being the dedicated native of the Commonwealth that Danny is, he told a really long joke about Mainers. Danny went to go grab another beer and I stayed chatting with my new friends. A fair amount of time had passed and I went to look for Danny. I finally found him. There he was, dancing in the middle of the street, with an extremely overserved woman who looked to be twice his age. This gal was married, but her Irish eyes were clearly smiling for Mr. Richer. Danny, always a good sport, danced for a bit, occasionally looking over at me with a “WHAT is going on here?!” glance. I wanted to try to save him but I was doubled over in laughter and really couldn’t move. Finally, Danny broke away from Barbara’s stronghold and propped her up against her husband. He walked over to where I standing and quickly assumed the doubled over in laughter position. When he was finally able to speak, Danny said, “She said….she said…. (more hysterical laughter)….MY NAME IS BARBARA AND I THINK I LOVE YOU. And then…she kissed me….she kissed me…. (even more hysterical laughter) on the cheek!” I completely lost it again.
Now for the Irish music portion of this post. Raise your hand if you don’t know that Danny loves Springsteen. Trick question because there’s probably no way to get your hand up from that rock you’re living under. Being born and raised in Jersey helped me develop into something of an obsessed Springsteen fan myself. From my first conversation with Danny about Springsteen, I knew we had to see a Springsteen show together sometime. So when the 2009 spring tour dates were announced, Danny and I did some coordinating, and I booked my flight from Chicago to Pittsburgh. As Danny so accurately says, “Doers do.” On May 8, 2009, Danny drove up from West Virginia, picked me up at the airport, and we were off to the Bryce Jordan Area at Penn State. That show is another story entirely but all this to say, when I think of St. Patty’s Day and Ireland and Irish people…I think of hospitality, friendship, music, meat and potatoes, celebrating the little things, finding humor in all situations, honoring your family, and singing loudly with abandon when the mood strikes you. These are all things that also describe my friendship with Danny.
So on the evening of May 8, 2009 at the Bryce Jordan Center when Springsteen and the E Street Band busted out the song “American Land” during their encore, Danny and I both freaked out. An Irish jig of sorts with incredible lyrics. Here’s the performance from that night.
They died building the railroads, worked to bones and skin
They died in the fields and factories, names scattered in the wind
They died to get here a hundred years ago, they're dyin' now
The hands that built the country we're all trying to keep down
There's diamonds in the sidewalk, there's gutters lined in song
Dear I hear that beer flows through the faucets all night long
There's treasure for the taking, for any hard working man
Who will make his home in the American land
I mean, come ON. Lyrics like that are just one of many reasons that Springsteen rules. So, as we gear up for this St. Patrick’s Day, I feel particularly grateful for all of our ancestors, Irish, Italian, German, Jewish…you name it, who helped to make my home in the American Land. If not, I wouldn’t be here in this place, at this time, writing to you fine people. To those of you that I don’t know, I hope we meet some day. Until then…I’ll leave you with this Irish prayer:
May God give you...
For every storm, a rainbow,
For every tear, a smile,
For every care, a promise,
And a blessing in each trial.
For every problem life sends,
A faithful friend to share,
For every sigh, a sweet song,
And an answer for each prayer.
Peace and love,
Mary
From Danny:
San Francisco is a well-known destination for the Irish, and is right up there with Boston, New York, and Chicago. It is also the home of the Irish coffee, which was invented in 1952 at the Buena Vista Cafe right by Ghiradelli Square and Fisherman's Wharf. San Francisco is also where I met my close friend Mary Colleran, a true rock star happens to be one of the best writers I know! A world traveler, a musician, a resident of the Windy City, and one amazing creator of prose, I asked if she would be willing to submit a short, and very true, story of our San Francisco St. Patrick's Day from 2003-2004. And she absolutely rose to the challenge! I just wish I could remember the joke I told. But with one week remaining, I would like to share with you Mare's thought's on all that is good, all that is Irish, all that is St. Patrick's Day:
Hello family and friends of Danny,
I’m thoroughly enjoying Danny’s countdown to St. Patrick’s Day. Informative, funny and entertaining. Just like our Danny. When Danny asked if I’d like to contribute a story to the countdown I gladly accepted. It’s truly an honor.
I had the privilege of sharing St. Patrick’s Day with Danny in…2003? We were both living in the Bay Area, and met up to attend the San Francisco St. Patrick’s Day street festival. As I’m sure you’re all aware, hanging out with Danny almost always includes making new friends and enjoying a frosty beverage usually accompanied by some sweet tunes, and laughing hysterically. This night was no different. Except, in my experience, unlike this fateful St. Patty’s Day, nights hanging out with Danny don’t usually involve a 60-something named Barbara.
Danny and I befriended a group of strangers in the middle of the street. We shared stories and being the dedicated native of the Commonwealth that Danny is, he told a really long joke about Mainers. Danny went to go grab another beer and I stayed chatting with my new friends. A fair amount of time had passed and I went to look for Danny. I finally found him. There he was, dancing in the middle of the street, with an extremely overserved woman who looked to be twice his age. This gal was married, but her Irish eyes were clearly smiling for Mr. Richer. Danny, always a good sport, danced for a bit, occasionally looking over at me with a “WHAT is going on here?!” glance. I wanted to try to save him but I was doubled over in laughter and really couldn’t move. Finally, Danny broke away from Barbara’s stronghold and propped her up against her husband. He walked over to where I standing and quickly assumed the doubled over in laughter position. When he was finally able to speak, Danny said, “She said….she said…. (more hysterical laughter)….MY NAME IS BARBARA AND I THINK I LOVE YOU. And then…she kissed me….she kissed me…. (even more hysterical laughter) on the cheek!” I completely lost it again.
Now for the Irish music portion of this post. Raise your hand if you don’t know that Danny loves Springsteen. Trick question because there’s probably no way to get your hand up from that rock you’re living under. Being born and raised in Jersey helped me develop into something of an obsessed Springsteen fan myself. From my first conversation with Danny about Springsteen, I knew we had to see a Springsteen show together sometime. So when the 2009 spring tour dates were announced, Danny and I did some coordinating, and I booked my flight from Chicago to Pittsburgh. As Danny so accurately says, “Doers do.” On May 8, 2009, Danny drove up from West Virginia, picked me up at the airport, and we were off to the Bryce Jordan Area at Penn State. That show is another story entirely but all this to say, when I think of St. Patty’s Day and Ireland and Irish people…I think of hospitality, friendship, music, meat and potatoes, celebrating the little things, finding humor in all situations, honoring your family, and singing loudly with abandon when the mood strikes you. These are all things that also describe my friendship with Danny.
So on the evening of May 8, 2009 at the Bryce Jordan Center when Springsteen and the E Street Band busted out the song “American Land” during their encore, Danny and I both freaked out. An Irish jig of sorts with incredible lyrics. Here’s the performance from that night.
They died building the railroads, worked to bones and skin
They died in the fields and factories, names scattered in the wind
They died to get here a hundred years ago, they're dyin' now
The hands that built the country we're all trying to keep down
There's diamonds in the sidewalk, there's gutters lined in song
Dear I hear that beer flows through the faucets all night long
There's treasure for the taking, for any hard working man
Who will make his home in the American land
I mean, come ON. Lyrics like that are just one of many reasons that Springsteen rules. So, as we gear up for this St. Patrick’s Day, I feel particularly grateful for all of our ancestors, Irish, Italian, German, Jewish…you name it, who helped to make my home in the American Land. If not, I wouldn’t be here in this place, at this time, writing to you fine people. To those of you that I don’t know, I hope we meet some day. Until then…I’ll leave you with this Irish prayer:
May God give you...
For every storm, a rainbow,
For every tear, a smile,
For every care, a promise,
And a blessing in each trial.
For every problem life sends,
A faithful friend to share,
For every sigh, a sweet song,
And an answer for each prayer.
Peace and love,
Mary
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)