my last trip to tulsa

"i've been working on this palm tree for 87 years."

i had a horrible time tonight. omg- i was hit on- beyond hit on, tonight. apparently, when i get out there, i'm quite something. everyone wants this. apparently. i am. not. trying to be be vane. but damn. i was apparently the best thing these people had ever seen. (-:

which makes me wonder where they've been. under rocks. or out on the town trying out their lines. their very lame lines. with limited success. or great success. who the hell knows?

and the person that appealed to me most. well, he was the one who seemed the most. uncomfortable. and had no line.

"there was an indian in the corner- trying on my my clothes."


so we hit it off. this misfit and i. you could of figured. that.

phone numbers were exchanged.

"the coroner was friendly, i liked him quite a lot. if i hadn't of been a women, i guess i'd never have been caught."


so here's the thing- i'm not at all sure about this. but you know. he had engineer eyes. you know. the bright shining ones. that speak of intelligence. and observation. and something that is back there. somewhere.

that made me question what exactly he was doing there. or here.

"i was chopping down a palm tree. a friend dropped by to ask. if i would feel less lonely if he helped me swing the axe?"

" i said, "no, it's not a case of being lonely we have here. i've been working on this palm tree for 87 years."

and well, i don't know about this. i really don't.
but it's the closest thing to "i'm interested in this." that i've felt in years. and years.

and years.

"she got down on my knees. said, "let's get on with this thing. well, i used to be a folk singer, keeping managers alive, when you saw me on a corner and told me i was jive."

"well, i woke up in the morning. with an arrow through my nose."

"well, i used to be asleep you know. with blankets on my bed. i stayed there for awhile, til they discovered i was dead....."

"they gave me back my house and car. and nothing more was said."

"i chopped down the palm tree. and it landed on his back..."

the shape of my heart

it's pretty snowy out. it's valentine's day and i have no valentine. and i've done nothing but what i please all day. and it's not been not nice. not thrilling, but within the frame of things- quite nice.

i had a nice facetime call from my grandson. and he asked me to show him the view out my window when i told him there was snow. the view through my phone camera looked pretty beautiful. perhaps even more beautiful than it was. it looked pretty through the frame.

so last night a friend gave me and another friend free tickets to a show with the city's philharmonic. and he gave us each a candy. apparently, he thought we'd be feeling alone on this saturday night. sorta sweet.

and it was nice. and also nice was my friend telling me that from here on out in her life, she was going to try to be more like me. ha. yeah. i know. what? but apparently she admires my calm in life. and that i seem fairly happy even though i don't have much.

and it's true. i don't have much. but i have all i really need.

and conversely..

i told her that earlier in the week that some other friends were asking me what i'd given up for lent. and i said, i haven't given up anything for lent. i can't give up anything for lent. i need everything i have. i take anything out. and it upsets the delicate balance.

and i think that's the secret. keeping the balance. keeping inside the frame.

when i was a little kid, i was sort of fascinated by the symmetry used in cutting out a construction paper heart. and i was also fascinated with the fact that after you cut your heart out, the scraps also formed a heart. you had the outline of a heart. and a heartshaped hole that you could look at the things of your life through.

and that's kinda how i feel about Valentine's day. i can look through the cutout and see the things in my life that i love. and visually ignore what's outside the borders.

and that's the balance and frame i need for being happy. and the shape of my heart.

moonshadows

so while i was waiting for someone's plane to get in this morning, i was listening to part of a tedtalk on happiness. and you know how i feel about tedtalks. but there i was. waiting for the plane. with nothing to do. so i was listening to this. and the first thing the guy said was that people a year after winning the lottery and people a year after becoming paralyzed rate themselves as being about the same amount of happy.

so then the guy went on to explain that our ability to not get hung up on bad stuff and move on was because of our big old humany frontal lobes. and he said you pretty much get over anything at all after about three months. because. your frontal lobe. apparently, it has the ability to look ahead. to the future and stuff. which helps you get over stuff. hmmm

well, and maybe that's so for most people. but me, i must have the tiniest frontal lobe in the world. or perhaps i have frontal lobe damage. perhaps i have trouble seeing the future.

so then the plane landed and i didn't get to hear the rest of the tedyak. and i'm wondering now if he ever explained why lottery winners weren't happier than people who can't walk. and i also wonder if he ever talked about people who were paraplegics and who had also won a lottery. how happy were they?

i guess i could go look it up to listen to the rest of it. not right now though.

"And if I ever lose my eyes
If my colors all run dry
Yes, if I ever lose my eyes
Ooh, I won't have to cry no more"

la la la. la la. la la

so i have been enjoying vinyl. for years, i haven't listened to very much music. well, because music makes you feel. and to feel is, of course, bad. (ok, ok. ok. it's not bad. but for quite a while, it has just been better for me to keep feelings tamped down. where they could be kept under control. because for a while there- they got quite out of control. and trust me, that is NEVER gonna happen again.)

ANYwho--- i've been enjoying vinyl. because my son and daughter in law bought me this little record player. it's one of those retro things. that looks like a little suitcase when it's closed. they are in all the stores these days. mine is turquoise. and really, it's quite cute. I even bought a little retro table to set it up on. with wrought iron legs.

and i have a grand total of 5 albums here to listen to. one i bought, two my daughter and her husband gave me, one i bought with a gift card my son and family gave me, and one my son dredged out of storage, where i'm hoping that i can rescue some more.

and one of the great joys is picking up the arm and placing the needle down right at the song that i want to hear. it's a much more satisfying tactile thing than punching a button on a cd player. or clicking on a computer link. you feel like you've actually done something. something skillful, when you do it just right. like threading a sewing needle. or sticking a landing off a balance beam.

not that i can stick a landing off a balance beam anymore. i'm not even sure that i can still hoist myself up on a beam anymore. let alone balance on it and perform tricks. old age, it brings you down, i guess.

but i can still artfully and accurately place a needle down right at the beginning of a song. and i like that i can do that. that i have the steady eye and hand for that. it makes me feel in control of my life for a very brief moment.

so there is a an album that has been playing in my head for days now. that i want to pick up next time i'm in the record store. which is another delightful thing about vinyl that i'd forgotten about- spending hours browsing through album covers to select something new to take home. there's some kind of time warp thing that happens when you do that. like being in the library browsing through the stacks. and then suddenly, you're late for your dentist appointment.

so this album that i've been craving is Crazy Horse. Everybody Knows This is Nowhere. and of course, i want to hear Cinnamon Girl. because that is one great song.
but mostly right now i want to hear the title track. i just want to sing along with it- the la la la part.

and it's not that the lyrics mean a damn thing to me. i have absolutely no wish to go home again. there is no one i'd like to go back and get to know. or anything like that. i just want to sing along with it. everybody, everybody, knows this is nowhere. la la la. la la la la.

and yeah, i could pull it up on youtube. but it just would not could not be the same. as setting that needle down just at the right place to hear that guitar intro and old Neil's funky voice chiming in. and then mine. on the la las.

so actually, awhile back i read a book written by Neil Young. and in it he talked about that he specifically puts certain songs in certain order on his records. and actually, i get that. but just the same, i will order the songs how i please. it will be everybody knows first, cinnamon girl second and then after that, who knows. except that i probably won't ever put the needle down on the losing end. because well, you know. i have to be in control.

everybody, everybody knows. la la la. la la. la la