Reaching The Shore With Mom

Was just thinking back to a time in my life when I reached the shore, so to speak.

Mom led me there.

It was the year i was in summer school- sometimes bad things happen and you respond (either in anger, or sadness, maybe a combination of both) but sometimes things totally blindside you, and you accept your bullet in silence. One would think this was a noble thing, but I'm seeing it as more of a "deer-in-the-headlights' thing". The year I had to do summer school was the year my brother died, sort of a culmination of things. I guess psycologically I shouldn't draw a connection between the two events, but tell that to a 10 year old.

I think that what made summer school so cringingly unacceptable was the very idea of it. For me it was a confirmation of sorts; 'you, sir, are a loser. you are not one who thrives in his environment, you endure it. Others will pass, they will have their day in the sun. you won't get recess until you catch up. you are a loser. face it now, accept it. your mama didn't make you one, your papa didn't make you one, but make no mistake about it.'

It was the summer of decorating my folder with superheroes I clipped out of the newspaper. It was the summer, the hot, dry sunny summer of sweet catalpas and their sticky, fermenting mess-puddles. It was the summer of blueberry muffins from Davidson's, of Super Pretzles and Van McCoy's 'The Hustle'.

It was also the summer I found $10 in my textbook. Being the guy I was (too scared not to own up to it) I promptly turned it in to the teacher. About a week later the principal of the school presented it to me in front of the class, which included (i think) gang members. Upon leaving the school that day, one of them swung a broomstick over his head, coming down just before my feet, for no particular reason. He said nothing, he did not rob me, he did not swing again. I guess I just needed the hell scared out of me that day.

i could tell you about the wad of Charleston Chew I had to jettison because the bell rang or about the '67 Firebird my sister was driving when she dropped me off for class one day. I could relate how the roofers dropped tennis balls down to us once. But I'd rather mention the shore.

We lived close to the lakeshore then. Had we been about 50 years earlier we would have had to been rich to do so. Nevertheless, due to the presence of criminal-types we didn't often go to the beach. My mom and my brother often accompanied me to summer school on those hot mornings. I remember one day my mom saying we had a little time and we should walk a little further.

We ended up at the beach. Right to the shore. We stood looking out over the water toward the rising sun. I'd never been to the beach at sunrise before. It was beautiful. I don't remember we ever discussed it, either then or ever after.

There are times in one's life where they find themselves facing a particular form of hell. It's hell of an internal sort and no one can really help, or go there with you, or get you out. So you go. You go by yourself and you go when you're 10 and you have no choice, when you need to go, but you need even more to be convinced of your value in this world. You go when you're scared and you're sick and your brother is about to die.

But sometimes you go to the shore, too. You go where it's beautiful and it makes sense. You go with someone you love and who loves you and although you can't really help each other's hell, you go together and for a moment at least, it's fine.

Cool Cookies In Hot July

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Ringo Starr/Dave Stewart's 'Off The Record' is Right On

Click on the pic to see a preview of the program

Click on the 'play' button to hear cuts from Liverpool 8

One of the lines from the Beatles' 'A Day In The Life' goes, "I just had to look,having read the book'; it seems that those of us who grew up in the wake of Beatle mass-hysteria spent much of our time playing catch-up- like for tomorrow's test- in late-night cram sessions.

So last night I stayed up to watch the HBO special 'Off The Record'. I'm glad I did.

It's fun to see these veteran rockers chat about good times. Ringo is endearing, has probably grown the most musically since the Beatles, plus he is (and seemingly always has been) down-to-earth.

Dave Stewart is, well, Dave Stewart. In the context of his work in Eurythmics he is a legend. To see him in this role as a rock 'n' roll interviewer/documentarian is very cool, indeed. Watch it yourself; tell me what you think. All I know is, I won't be tired of cramming for this kind of test for a long time.

Remembering You Today, Mom

This is my mom, back in the day. We lost her a number of years ago, but this is a celebration of her life, not a recollection of my loss. Mom, I miss you today.

Mom loved her birthday and she loved Mother's Day. In fact, it was often the same day, and in her life it had been the date of her first communion and Easter, too.

Mom loved flowers; around this time of year lilacs and forsythia are in bloom. It seems the sun shines so brightly here in early May against a crisp, clear blue sky. The delicate petals of flowering bushes seem to glow in the light. Until we moved into a house, though, mom cultivated wax begonias, african violets and geraniums, and these were often her gifts; she actually joined a geranium club by mail!

One year when I was just about twelve my mom's birthday came up on us and I didn't have the money to get her anything. I had asked a friend to allow me to charge an item on the account my mom established at a store. Truthfully he didn't have the authority to do that, although it would have been alright, both with the store owner and my mom. But his integrity left a lasting impression on me. He also gave me a sum of money out of his own pocket. Because of George I was able to get a few planting supplies to give her. But as I look back, what a wonderful thing, to remember how great my mom was and how special this great friend had been in granting me this legacy of integrity and compassion.

I have two songs today; the first is an Ella Fitzgerald standard, 'Too Marvelous For Words'- that's for you, mom, and for every mom out there.

The second is from Peggy Lee, 'Is That All There Is'- it's a little, well, we've all felt this way before; disillusioned. In fact, I understand it's based on a story called 'Dissilusionment'. Listen to it, but don't take it into your spirit. It made an impression on me as a kid because my mom was attracted to it, but philosophically I think there's more to be had. I like to describe it as the serendipity of life and if you wouldn't mind a little part-time psychology, I think it's healthier in the long run to anticipate that good is just around the corner.

I have no idea who might read this, but I want to wish you well today.