The Magical Legacy of Leon Russell: Part Three

I needed a brain cleanse from all the pictures and chatter about J.D. Vance* enjoying an intimate moment with his SOFA, so I had to share this cute little anecdote…

My son is/was a fairly good piano player. He started taking lessons when he was five years old because my mom thought he had talent along with some interest, so we brought home a pretty cool piano.

He was OK but not a prodigy. Even though family legend has been that we might be slightly related to a world renowned pianist, it didn’t seem to be his joy and after a few years, he quit playing except to entertain friends.

Now that there are Angel Kids, they seem to gravitate toward the piano when they visit. This last time, eight year old Angel Boy was pounding on it, driving me crazy.

I’d say, “Gentle, gentle, Use a gentle touch, PLEASE!” but he didn’t really understand what I meant.

Dad was off surfing (of course) so I couldn’t ask him to play something, as he could have demonstrated what I meant. Since I absolutely can’t play a note, I’m useless.

I had a brainstorm. Thinking that maybe he needed to SEE how the piano ought to be touched, we watched some of Leon Russell’s videos where AB could see the light, gentle touch used on the keys, and the beautiful sounds it would make.

We listened to a lot of Leon Russell’s magical music, I mean A LOT. Like I said, I’m obsessed, haha!

Since kids nowadays know more about the internet than we did at that age, he saw the sign of the red line under each video, to indicate that I had watched a LOT of Leon’s live performances.

“Grandma, did you really watch all of this?”

“I DID, I told you he is a musical genius, and I love to watch him sing and play piano.”

The next morning as I was making his fave buckwheat pancakes, I heard Angel Boy open the piano and start playing.

I could tell that he was trying to emulate the way he observed Leon’s hands glide across the keys-not pounding out sounds, but allowing each key to speak and tell a story and that’s when I knew my little buddy was hooked.

His performance was extemporaneously lyrical. Was I in heaven, or what?

When their visit was over and I was driving everyone to the airport, I paired my phone with the car and started to play (what else) Leon Russell.

From his car seat directly behind me, Angel Boy pleaded with me, “NO MORE LEON RUSSELL, GRANDMA! NO MORE!” He said he’d rather hear my favorite Swan Lake than hear ANOTHER song that he had been “forced” to listen to for DAYS. (However, he really liked “Tight Rope”, so I know he was actually listening.)

It was pretty funny, but I had done my job. Mission accomplished. Whether he knew it or not, my Angel Boy, representing a new generation, was already inspired by Leon Russell’s magical genius.

The legacy lives on. Now his parents need to get a piano and start lessons with a great teacher.

At the very least, he stopped pounding on the keys, so it was a win for me.

Leon’s mind blowing version of Over The Rainbow, always the master of space and time.

*J.D. Vance is the orange turd’s incredibly idiotic choice for vice president, not that it’ll matter ‘cos I predict that Kamala will WIN by a landslide.

Featured photo is Leon Russell as a child at the piano.

A Sweet, Happy Day

I went to the dentist for my regular six-month checkup and cleaning with the extra nice hygienist who always makes me laugh. The good news is that overall, my teeth looked healthy, but an old filling had deteriorated and needs to be replaced which is annoying, but not traumatic enough to cause too much stress. That made me VERY happy. The dentist is as detail oriented (OCD) as I am, so I know she’ll do a fine job. No worries.

This morning started out to be one of those enchanted, simply special times where the good energy spirals and infuses the rest of the day.

After all of that, I usually like to go shopping as a reward– kind of like the adult version of the treasure chest pediatric dentists have available for children to “pick a prize”. I’m convinced that retail therapy is therapeutic.

A new Nordstrom Rack opened up in the vicinity and it seemed like a great destination for some browsing — you never know what treasure might catch my eye.

I stopped at the hair care aisle and had a pleasant chat with another curly girl about what kinds of products we use for our hair type.

Like a butterfly, I flitted from one area to another: children to workout wear to undergarments to sparkly dresses, and ended up at shoes, my holy grail.

My eyes were drawn to these Karl Lagerfeld embellished heels on the clearance shelf. I grabbed them off the rack, put them on, and instantly fell in love. A couple of women also trying on shoes commented that they were adorable and looked exactly like ME. I don’t know how total strangers would know that they looked like me when they didn’t know me at all, but I told them they were exactly right.

The only problem is that they were a little too big. I usually wear 5.5 but these must run large. Before I could even look for a half size smaller, one of the women found me another pair in the right size but in black. They were cute, but I liked the port color better.

Her friend searched and discovered the right color in the right size and brought it to me. Can you believe how friendly and lovely absolute strangers can be? It makes me feel that all is not doom and gloom in this world. There IS goodness.

I find the random chat in a store between strangers, people who just happen to be in the same place at the same time — consummately satisfying. We don’t know each others’ names, we have nothing in common but a friendly spirit that’s willing to share a few words and some kindness. It’s an insanely gratifying connection that happens quite often. Do you experience it, too?

Of course these shoes had to come home with me. I’m totally obsessed. The kitty (Lagerfeld’s emblem), the pearl, the sparkles; each shoe is slightly different. Yes, I’m OBSESSED with the design, but even with a four-inch heel, they are actually comfortable.

All I need now is somewhere special to wear them!

I hope your Thursday was as wonderful as mine.

The Games People Play

Joy was my primary emotion when Angel Boy 2.0 brought out the Scrabble board and wanted to learn how to play.

As soon as he grasped the basic concept, he became a fierce competitor. When his Dad wanted to create teams — my two Angel Boys– son and grandson — against ME, I knew I was doomed to never again win.

This is deja vu, history repeating itself in real time. I have never EVER won a game of Scrabble with my brilliant child. At this point I don’t even try because it’s futile.

This was only the second game we played. AB 2.0 was proud of MAX with no help from Dad, and because it was a double word score, he caught on really fast to the excitement of strategic placement.

When I play games, I do so for the joy of being together; when THEY play, their goal is to win.

We are not the same.

It’s a similar situation with Monopoly. I’m no fun to play with. This is a game where their Mom excels. I want to buy hotels and apartments to provide a home for the unsheltered, while everyone else tries to acquire money and real estate to build an empire.

We are not the same.

Is “Of Course” The New “You’re Welcome”?

Of course!

I’ve become obsessed with observing how often people say “of course” in response to “thank you” or any other expression of appreciation. Have you noticed it, too?

For example, I was at the market and said thank you to the person who bagged my groceries. He said, “Of course.”

Later, a neighbor gave me a cool puzzle for the grandkids. I texted “thank you.” She responded, “of course”.

Someone else helped me find a particular section of rugs in TJ Maxx and when I told her I appreciated the help, she responded, “of course.”

This all happened in the same day because it seems as if no one says “you’re welcome” EVER –just “of course.”

Is it rude? Is it polite?

OF COURSE I did a little research…

Here’s the query: Is it rude to reply “of course”?

‘Of course’ by itself means obvious, expected. So when someone says ‘of course’ instead of ‘you’re welcome’, the feeling is “it’s obvious that I would do that because I want to do that’. It seems to be a friendly communication, BUT IS IT?

In fact, it’s a big search on Quora…

Why do millennials often say “of course” instead of saying “you’re welcome” when you thank them?

You can respond to someone who says “of course!” after you thank them by expressing your gratitude again or by acknowledging their kindness. For example, you could say “Thank you again, I really appreciate it” or “You’re so kind, thank you.” This shows that you value their response and appreciate their willingness to help.

What about people who respond “no problem” in response to “thank you”?

I like this following points of view:

“You’re welcome,” is the correct short answer. “Of course” implies entitlement. Even the currently popular, “No problem,” implies imposition.

Both of those answers imply “It’s all about me, not you.” I think it’s another sign, indicative of more and more egregious narcissistic behavior creeping into our society on a daily basis.

Regardless of the following ways to respond to “thank you” and you can call me old-fashioned, but I’m going to stick with “you’re welcome.” That’s the only one that feels right to me.

Do you say “no problem” or “of course” or are you like me and reply with a simple “you’re welcome”?

rachelsenglish.comhttps://rachelsenglish.com › youre-welcome

Today is World Naked Gardening Day!

The first Saturday in May is World Naked Gardening Day.

We’re encouraged to wear NOTHING but a sunhat and sunscreen, to pick up a trowel or a rake, and seed and weed au naturale.

Why garden naked? Our culture needs to move toward a healthy sense of both body acceptance and our relation to the natural environment. Gardening naked is not only a simple joy, it reminds us–even if only for those few sunkissed minutes–that we can be honest with who we are as humans and as part of this planet. and that’s also a definitely NOT ME, whether it’s “world wide” or “worldwide”! Curated from https://naturisteducation.org/wngd/

Today, you’ll find me in the garden, fully clothed, planting peas and beans and mixed leafy greens.

However, if YOU choose to celebrate in your birthday suit, DO NOT send pics!

Enjoy!

Cyberspace Issues: Hardwired

Finally, finally, I have been reconnected with the World Wide Web. The information superhighway has been restored.

It took the technician hours because it wasn’t a simple repair, apparently. Since I’m always interested in learning about pretty much everything, I watched him troubleshoot the problem.

Not my actual box, but similar.

First of all, somehow, there was an actual broken wire in the little junction utility box that houses all the wires on our street. Just mine, not anybody else. Weird, right?

He fixed it but that didn’t resolve the issue. He showed me his Ipad map that pointed to another broken wire seven hundred feet away, down the street and around the corner. He went there, didn’t see a problem, but his map then told him the main issue was a broken wire two more blocks away on the main street.

When he opened up that particular utility box, he had to sort through hundreds of twisted wires of various colors and find the one that eventually connects wifi to my address. When he did that, he discovered that it was broken in half, not connected at all.

He repaired that wire, came back here, we rebooted my router and got a strong connection. After doing a few more tests to make sure everything was successfully in working order, the technician left.

I asked him how often similar things occur and he told me that it happens fairly often because the wires get old and no one ever checks them unless there’s a problem like I experienced.

I’m grateful he didn’t give up!

CRAZY, right?

At some point, I’m going to examine my relationship with the internet. I’m not happy with myself and how I felt about being unplugged cold turkey. It caused emotional and psychological distress. I don’t have an addictive personality but this felt very much like descriptions I’ve read about withdrawals. It’s time to self reflect and try some neuroplasticity.

At some point, I’ll do that, but right now, I’m tap tap tapping away, SO happy to be reconnected.

Day of Reckoning | Doomsday

I’ve had a really tough last few days. My WiFi broke on Thursday– I mean really broke. and there was nothing that the telephone tech could do to fix it so I had to schedule an appointment for a real, live human to appear in person.

The even worse news is that no one can come until Tuesday. TUESDAY.

That’s a lifetime, right? Nowadays, to be without internet access grinds our lives to a complete stop. I’m not sure that it’s a great idea to be so reliant on this technology.

I thought I was really smart and tethered my computer to my phone’s cellular data until I got the message that I was using too much data, so I had to untether…unplug completely.

In some ways, this really feels like the end; doomsday, my own personal day of reckoning. I guess I didn’t realize how totally dependent I’ve become on the internet — in every aspect of my life. I confess that I felt a level of anxiety, stressed out because it was as if I was marooned on a desert island, cut off from the rest of the world.

I was lucky enough to still have a radio because I couldn’t listen to music any other way. It was like turning the clock back more than thirty years.

No computer, no social media.

I had disconnected from cable TV a while ago but no WiFi meant that I didn’t have Prime or Netflix or Roku and I was stuck with only a handful of local stations. Crazy.

I found a couple books to read but it didn’t take me very long to finish both of them. I polished all the furniture, I washed windows, I cleaned out the refrigerator. I worked in the garden. I actually got a lot done, much more than if I had wasted time on the internet.

Psychology Today says excessive use of the internet is known to negatively impact a person’s mental health. It has been associated with mental health issues, such as loneliness, depression, anxiety, and attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. Cybersex and pornography hurts our minds, souls, and relationships in so many ways — it’s incredibly sad.

While the internet has completely revolutionized the way we live and work in the modern world and opened up opportunities, it’s also closed the world. I believe that, too.

The internet transformed communication, information dissemination, commerce, education, and social interactions in unprecedented ways, reimagining the way we live, work, and interact with one another.

In the old days, we used typewriters to write papers or letters — or we hand wrote them. If we wanted to read a book, we went to library — or the bookstore. There were no e-readers or digital downloads.

If we wanted to hear a song, we listened to it on the radio or we bought a vinyl record, tape, or disk.

If we wanted to watch a movie, we either went to the movie theater or watched whatever came on television, and later we had Blockbuster to rent movies, remember that?

Upon reflection (since I’ve had a lot of time to THINK) I think life was better because there was more one-on-one interaction. Being alive didn’t feel as disposable as it does now. We didn’t expect everything to happen instantaneously. We didn’t give up as easily on things. We didn’t discard things as quickly. We learned how to take care of them and mend them if they broke. We didn’t feel the need to rush out and buy the latest new thing that was being sold, and then obsessively track its every delivery movement. (That’s me.)

It hasn’t been easy, that’s for sure. I only lasted three days before I packed up my laptop and drove to the (empty) city parking lot to access their free internet.

This is where I am right now, sitting in my car, typing away on their signal. After this, I think I might hit up Amazon and look for a new table runner to accent my now beautifully polished and shiny dining room table.

The pain is real. How long could YOU last unplugged?

Let’s Play Ball! (Lizard-style)

This isn’t the greatest photo; the sun kind of distorted the sharp lines and colors, but I was lucky enough to capture my lizard friend sunning himself on an orange tennis ball

This other guy visits every day; I can always tell who it is by his sort of mutilated tail. He seems to know when I’m in the garden and runs over to greet me.

Hello, handsome! They might be referred to as cold-blooded, but still have their own distinctive personalities.

Lizards like to snack on mealworms, but I never seem to remember to buy them at the pet store. I know they have enough to eat because they’re doing a great job cleaning the garden of unwanted grasshoppers, crickets, and beetles.

The Not-Giving, Hateful, Horrible Tree

This is NOT about that giving tree, Shel Silverstein’s sad apple tree who was abused and abandoned after she gave all that she had for years in her attempts to please a narcissistic little boy.

Taking a bit of a detour and as an aside to that, Angel Girl read The Giving Tree to me — well, not really READ it, but she had memorized every single word and wanted to “read” to me, just like her big brother reads to me. Too adorable, right?

Angel Boy, sitting on my other side, was quick to report in a loud whisper, “She’s not really reading like ME, Grandma, you know that, don’t you?”

I replied, “I know, T, but she wants you and I to be proud of her, so we’re just going to go along with it and praise her efforts, aren’t we?”

After she finished “reading”, we chatted a bit about what the story was all about and Angel Boy said how much he didn’t like it because it was too sad for him to think about the poor tree and Angel Girl chimed in with the same sort of commentary, “He took it all, Grandma, and all she had left was a trunk for him to sleep on when he was old. That wasn’t very nice.”

I was impressed by their empathy and compassion.

And then, because these children NEVER miss an opportunity to point things out to me, she said, “And the man in the book is WAY OLDER than you are, Grandma.”

Ha Ha Ha. Thanks for that, my angel.

Back to my rant, but before I begin, I need to make sure everyone is completely aware about how much I love trees. I don’t even hate eucalyptus trees, but they’re a menace and never should have been planted as a residential street tree, especially so close to houses. I mean, it’s not like I have a colony of koalas in my backyard that need a regular source of food, don’t you agree?

What I’m going on a tirade about is a gigantic eucalyptus tree lives in the space between my house and my next door neighbor’s driveway. It’s a city-owned tree so we can’t do anything about it. No birds nest here; even THEY don’t like it.

The California Invasive Plant Council (CAL-IPC) classifies certain eucalyptus as a “moderate” invasive.

They’re a real fire hazard and can disrupt ecological relationships among species that co-evolved over millennia, which is why many groups work to remove eucalyptus and restore coast live oaks. If that’s not bad enough, limbs fall during storms, and the euc’s shallow root system contributes to the whole tree falling, both of which have killed people.

Volatile oils in eucalyptus trees fuel more intense fires which is enough of a reason to permanently remove this tree.

They are a hazard in every sense of the word. Back in the 1900s, these trees were imported from Australia and planted with the hope that they could be harvested and sold as railroad ties. Unfortunately, eucalyptus is a brittle wood and cracks easily, therefore was unsuitable.

Eucalyptus limbs, branches, and trees regularly fall with potential catastrophic injuries. Recently, one eucalyptus as large as mine fell near our elementary school and was removed. 

Last January in San Diego at Balboa Park, a eucalyptus tree was uprooted and fell on top of a woman, obviously causing injuries. 

In 2017, A man in his seventies was killed by a branch that fell from a eucalyptus tree at Holiday Park in Carlsbad.

This tree continually drops leaves and other litter on the street, our yards, the sidewalk, and rain gutters. Roots are invasive. The leaves and other tree litter can damage vehicle paint. 

I’m really sick and tired of cleaning up this kind of tree debris every week or so.

A few neighbors and I wrote letters to the city expressing all of that and requested the tree be removed. That request was denied. This isn’t the first time we’ve made an effort to get the city to do something about it, and you would think they would be intelligent enough to remove a potentially dangerous hazard, but all they suggested was that If we wanted to spend more than one hundred dollars, we could appeal the decision, but so far, we have not done that.

I met with our councilmember and to no one’s surprise, received no help at all. I’m working on a little show-and-tell with exhibits for a future city council meeting to prove my point and will update you to share all the details about well my plan was or was NOT received. Heehee.

This tree doesn’t give apples; it gives me angst and frustration.

It’s A Mystery

I have a million seashells, well maybe not actually ONE MILLION, but I have a lot. Some are big, some small; many are so beautiful they’re lovingly displayed on shelves. To me, they’re all enchanted.

During the torrential rain when it was stupidly dangerous to venture out and I was forced to allow my leg to heal, I decided it was the perfect time to dust and rearrange my enchanted treasures.

In the process of relocating one of the seashells, I noticed there was what seemed to be paper stuck deep inside the cavity and that piqued my curiosity.

What was it?

A treasure map? A love note? Jewels?

Tweezers were necessary to extract whatever it was, and when I uncrumpled two pieces of thin yellow paper, I discovered THIS:

It appears to be a receipt from the Chong Hua Hospital pharmacy. It doesn’t say anything else that I can decipher. Google reports that this hospital is located outside of Cebu City in the Philippines.

Crazy, right? From the Philippines? Why was it in a seashell? How did it get there? How did it get HERE?

There was no date, no name, no treasure map, no smuggled diamonds, no love letter.

You can 1000% believe that I’ve peered inside every other seashell around here but they’re all devoid of any surprises.

The mystery remains…