Sunday, January 17, 2016

Well, Hello Again

So… it’s been a while, but my friend – Kathy – kind of inspired me to get back into writing.  It’s not like I quit writing, I just stopped blogging.  Why exactly,  I don’t know, maybe I ran out of things to say?  It happens right?  Ideas come in and drift out of thought on a constant basis, but the drive to commit them to permanence hasn’t been front and center.  When I quit blogging, I quit all together. Quit reading my friends’ blogs.  The blogs of those I greatly admire, you know those smart and funny writers of whom I wanted to grow up to emulate.

Writing, on a daily basis, has consisted of segmented word runs limited to 7, 30, 45 and 60 seconds in length – liners, commercial copy and news stories. Yep, that boring.  But I want to try again and if nobody notices, so be it.  The effort must be made and hopefully it will be done with humor, good punctuation and some consistency.  If I work hard enough at it I will actually get the first 100 things about me (since 2011) written.  I’ve just not been that interesting… this despite vacations to Seattle, Arizona, and Las Vegas. Life with a wonderful husband, charming grandson, three beautiful daughters, and my retaliatory pisser of a Bassett, Arlo.  I’ve have acquired four tattoos since my last post, but I guess it wasn’t important to document and share outside of Facebook.  To be blunt, I’ve been boring and apparently uninspired.

So here I jump in, and maybe not on the most positive note…

My favorite event of the year happened this weekend, Winter Music Festival.  Once known as the Winter Folk Music Festival, the new powers that be felt the word Folk limited the range and therefore limited the interest in the festival’s offerings itself.  Last night co-headlining the concert was 1970’s, one-hit-wonder Jonathan Edwards of, Sunshine Go Away Today, fame. Which is an appropriate song, if he could have sung it… but he couldn’t…. very well.  In fact his entire show sucked.  Now this comes from a person who use to sing, cannot sing anymore and recognizes that fact.  Since the release of his sole hit song in 1971 he’s produced eighteen albums with cuts I’ve never heard before.  HE SUCKED. 

Past Winter Folk Music Festivals have featured the likes of the Brothers Four (disclaimer – My Favs – I’ve seen them all four times they’ve preformed at the festival), Barry McGuire (twice and he rocked both times), The New Christie Minstrels (which aren’t new at all but still rocked), John York, Chad and Jeremy (these two were hysterical), We Five (not too damn bad).  And more that are un-remember at the moment.  Each time the house was packed.  Now the Florence Events Center can only seat 457, with the orchestral pit turned into seating (as it was last night)m, with that said, easily the back two rows (if not most of three rows) were empty, not all of the orchestra seats were filled, and there were open areas where sponsor seats weren’t filled.   In years past the house was rocking, people were singing loudly, stomping their feet, tapping their toes with every seat full.  Last night, people sang one song – well okay the refrain.  He was less interesting than my life… and that says a lot.

You did note it was a co-headlining concert?  The Shook Twins were the second bill.  Now I know none of their music... except their song Windows, which I used for their commercial.  We didn’t get to see their half of the concert.  Why you ask?  I got called away on an emergency. The picture is just the beginning as to why.  

Earlier in the evening the power blinked - really hard, causing a small outage of both lights and power to my cable box, causing Roger to wonder what happened to his game when he walked back in the living room.

Apparently the idiot behind the wheel of a vehicle, lost control of said north-bound vehicle at the intersection of 16th and Highway 101.  I don’t know the circumstances, driver’s name, or vehicle type (and it’s not shown in the photo), but the damage I know.  The power pole was sheered off and rammed into the southeast corner of Maryanne’s Natural Pets (now before you thinking pets might have been injured in the making of this blog, it’s a pet supply store and not a buy a pet type store.)  This caused Central Lincoln PUD to call out crews.  Who needed to shut power down causing an outage from 13th to 23rd streets in Florence.  How does this effect Roger and I you may ask?  This require emergency messages to air from 8:10 in the evening until 1am, ergo I had to go produce and schedule emergency notifications for our listeners on both KCST and KCFM.  

So we were rescued (albeit for only the remaining ten minutes of the “concert”), by my boss who needed me to go to work.  While we were rescued from any more of Jonathan Edwards, it did mean we missed the Shook Twins.  This was the group I wanted to see, an up and coming, rising star in the Folk music world. 
Drats!  I hope you enjoy.

Now we are off to see the Revanant, please no emergency text for the next few hours.



Friday, October 05, 2012

If Tomorrow Never Comes…

I’ve always had an affinity for those words by Garth Brooks…

If tomorrow never comes, will she show how much I loved her
Did I try in every way to show her every day                 
That’s she’s my only one
And If my time on earth were through
And she must face this world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past
Gonna be enough to last
If tomorrow never comes

This morning as I opened the door to leave for work the doorbell rang. My neighbor Gary stood their looking lost and gray and the words he spoke didn’t make any sense to me.

“Hey, Calista I hate to do this, but I didn’t want you to find out somewhere else, I, Renee’s gone.”

I was fairly confused, certain I wasn’t making sense of the words he spoke. So I so eloquently said,

“What, no way, Oh mi God. What happened?”  At this point I’m certain I didn’t hear the name right, but this was Gary and he suddenly was not okay, was not holding it together and could make less sense of life that this moment than I.

Yesterday morning Gary had gotten up before 6 and Renee usually followed not long after.  When she didn’t come out of the bedroom, Gary told the dogs, “Let’s go wake up, Mom.”

But, mom never woke up. 

My dear Renee, you will be so missed, the lives you have touched with your laughter and friendship will feel forever the hole of your loss. My tears fall in sorrow and loss - my prayers and thoughts fly with your soul. Thank you for having touched mine, Roger's, and Ben's lives. Be Peace my dear friend, be peace.

I am bereft, she was a lovely person who I never knew well enough, who a always enjoyed, who always was laughing, joyous, and giving.  She was a great neighbor, she was a lovely friend.

Cause I've lost loved ones in my life 
Who never knew how much I loved them
Now I live with the regret
That my true feelings for them were never revealed

I never what that regret to be mine, and yet, Renee is gone and I didn't take the opportunities that life allotted me with this person who offered so much of herself. Renee’s is only the most recent passing in this summer of loss.  In August my Aunt Mabel died of a multitude of illnesses that include – renal failure, kidney disease, and dementia.  Her passing was expected, a blessing, and I had long ago let her know what she meant to me and my life and how she had touched me and made me a better person.

Earlier this summer Marti Martin died.  It wasn’t unforeseen, she’d been battling an extremely nasty form of cancer, Marti had been one of those neighbors that you want to keep forever.  She and her husband, Sweetwater, were active in the tribe, and had held drumming in their backyard after powwows (I would listen to the drumming and singing while gardening a few yards down – it was so peaceful.  Marti died with dignity on August 14th finally crossed over to her husband Sweetwater, and leaving her 13 year old son behind. 

A week to the day my Aunt Freda passed.  She was almost 90 and until a year ago a very active woman. She led a very active life, survived the loss of her husband, a daughter and her son – and still lived a life of joy.  Then she broke her hip… and suffered a heart attack.  She was an inspiration.

  A week (seriously you can’t make this stuff up) my cousin Janice died.  Now truth be known, Janice is one of my older cousins, lived in Ohio and I’d not seen her in 40 years.  But still… they are dropping like flies.

Doubt that?  Natalie’s mother died the same day.  Then I’m driving to work and I see on the local Napa Store that Ernie Land’s memorial will be held at the Abby’s Pizza Parlour on September 15th.  I’d not seen Ernie in several months, despite working on the same street – isn’t that a sad comment?  Ernie had passed back in JUNE – where the hell have I been?

Then Ginger Taylor passed.  This is a woman I knew through out my childhood, she and her kids Valerie (whom I still play words with friend with) and Michael (my childhood husband) threw me a sixteenth birthday party.  Ginger was the neighbor who was beautiful, talented artist, a fabulous green thumb and hid her secrets in a closet.  I wanted to grow up to be just like Ginger Taylor.  She died two weeks ago.

I have lived my adult life knowing that tomorrow is not a given.  I have lived my adult life preaching to everyone to not let a moment go by when you can let someone know what they have meant to them, to their life, that they have had a hand in helping them become the person they are today.

So I made a promise to myself
To say each day how much she means to me
And avoid that circumstand
Where there’s no second chance to tell her how I feel.  Garth Brooks / Kent Blazy

In the words of John Edward – take the time to communicate – appreciate – and validate the people you love in your life. And please don’t wait – because tomorrow isn’t a given.


Saturday, June 02, 2012

Talk Thursday: Me, Myself and I er… I mean Introduce myself – Ego, Id – Super Ego

Ego - the “I” or self of any person; a person as thinking, feeling, and willing,

Who am I? Darn good question and when someone figures it out, please let me know.  Who am I?  Really, I’m not sure.  I was taught to step up, answer the call, I guess in some respects I am the default or reluctant leader.  I don’t want to be the leader, but yeah, it seems to be where I land.  Responsibilities are taken, because someone has to and I’m the idiot who is ever trying to fill the breach. Sadly it often finds me treading water searching for a sandy foothold and taken all the blame. 

Why do I do that? At heart I am lazy, lust for rainy days next to a warm fire with a book in my hands… usually if I have a book in my hands it means I picked it up to dust… or move it to another place.  But choosing to do something because it needs to be done isn’t the mark of a lazy person.  So now I’m an enigma. Family members are not shocked.

Id - primitive instincts and energies underlying all psychic activity

Sadly oftimes I react and then think.  Which sometimes works well at work. And then I get over loaded by all the things I take on and I become something else.  I become resentful at the lack of understanding, I become resentful at the lack of help.  I regret not being smarter.

And let me just say this, being a pacifist I will state boldly, “Do not fuck with my family and my friends.”  Did I mention I’m fairly non violent, but cuss well.

Super-ego -  that part of the unconscious mind that acts as a conscience

Conflict is not my forte. That is not to say I don’t enjoy a good hearted, healthy debate, but I am a peaceful person. I do not like mal intent, mean heartedness, and ire. If I see the writing on the wall, I will not beat my head against said wall, but instead shut my mouth.  And for that I was recently asked why I choose to be a victim?  I don’t choose to be a victim but I recognize when arguing is futile, when saying what I think, feel, and believe will only lead to more strife with no conclusion – no compromise – no resolve.  I am not stupid.

I am a peacemaker. I am forever on the side of the underdog, unless they are really annoying or hateful. I am patient, I am love, I am true, I am evolving, I try to always be as honest as I can be.  Ergo, let me get this out of the way.  I once wore a size eight (I was almost passing out skinny) now I am just fat.

Super-ego -  that part of the unconscious mind that acts as a conscience

My lines are blurred or Freud had no clue. I do not have a father fixation (he was my hero, but had clay feet) none of my husbands are/were like my dad.  We Ducky is hardworking, salt of the earth – the resemblance stops there. I adore my mother – despite her being real life clueless (and a republican). I am responsible for my own actions, decisions, and intents.  So nee neer nee neener Mr. Freud.  My lines are blurred.  And I am still figuring out what I am going to be when I grow up.


Saturday, May 26, 2012

Talk Thursday: Jealousy (subtitled: I Do Not)

This is an emotion or lack of character I don’t get.  What I have I worked hard for, what you have you wanted and worked for yourself, but wanting what someone else has is just a lacking inside.

Double Ex and I split on good grounds. And then he got married. No, problem I did too.  Double Ex walked out on me, walked out on Psam, and walked out on our life.  Which apparently is what he wanted at one time and then didn’t.  Okay, I get that. We remained friends until his wife felt threatened. And then he did something so thoughtlessly cruel. That I can’t take. That I can’t forgive.  Fuck me over, make me a fool but don’t fuck over my kid, literally hand her what she wants and then take it away forever.  That is unforgivable on this plane of existence.

Let me reiterate, I am not jealous. I do not want what is not mine. I do not aspire, dream, or scheme for a life and it’s trappings that are not mine. I do not want to be in the spotlight – and yes I see the irony in that, but also know that people who know my name have no clue who I am.  Sincerely.  The guy who runs the casino in my town will call the station and ask me how I know so much trivia (I do a trivia section during Harley’s show that is somewhat popular) but this same guy will totally ignore or even look through me when we run into each other in a public place. He knows my name, he might even know my voice, but he doesn’t have a clue what I look like.  It works very well for me.  I’ve had my stalker in life, thank you very much, one stalker is enough for several life times.

More than once I have walked into a business to be hailed by my name (hey, I’ve lived here for the better part of 40 years – I have friends) and have someone pop their head up from behind a sales rack and say “Flockhart?”  Who does that?  Since the first time I have replied, “Really?  Do I look like I need to eat a sandwich.”  Hey she’s that skinny, and my butt is that big.  I am not jealous, she’s married to Harrison Ford (who is a hottie in my book) they are married right? I’m married to Ducky Stand On The Grass and he rocks my world. Alls good.  She can’t walk out of her house without being followed by paparazzi, I can go unfettered anywhere I darn well want.  That is freedom.

Hey, she might even be jealous of our freedom and anonymity. If you were her, wouldn’t you be?

Okay, she does have a bikini body, and drats! I miss my bikini body.


Friday, May 04, 2012

Talk Thursday: Sobriety

Too much alcohol and I stick my head in the freezer.  Yes, I know why.  Does it make sense to anyone else?  Probably not, but still twenty plus years later I remember why.  I get happy, I get loud, I laugh, and then I puke for the next three days.  Alcohol and Cele do not mix well.  Ergo, I’ve been truly drunk a whole three times in my life… and that is precisely two hangovers too many. I’m not sure if it is because three is my magic number on the learning curve or because my ex-husband thought he’d be so helpful with my hangover (yes, the night after I kept sticking my head in the freezer… yes, at a party where his ENTIRE store was celebrating a house warming [warm being a very operative word])… Double X decided he’d go get me a chocolate milk shake. 

Mean son of a bitch.  It sounded so soothing, it wasn’t.  I’m such a gullible green horn.
I’ve not been drunk since.  The addictive gene runs in my family. My father’s dad was a nasty, nasty drunk, legend has it he once beat a mule to death. Several of my dad’s siblings were alcoholic – my father refused to go there, I pretty much followed his suite.  My mother’s mom as addicted not once, but twice to codeine, and what began with an ounce of brandy a night in between her bouts of codeine addiction became a problem in of itself. The addiction gene runs deep in my family.

To illustrate better my not too tall fascination with alcohol -  I have had two buckets of margaritas (I do like margaritas) in my freezer.  In, what? The last fifteen years.  I bought the last one three years ago, I’ve yet to have one margarita out of it.  Need more.  I bought a FABULOUS case of Cranberry Wine from Old Coyote Winery. Awesome, expensive (for me) amazing stuff – I gave most of it away… as gifts. I think I have two bottles left… three years later.

And Kalhua Cali? Well it is my annual Christmas gift that I make.  I use it for cough syrup.  Hey, it’s really good.


Wednesday, May 02, 2012

Last Week's Talk Thursday: Expectations, Reality, Evolution

We are raised with expectations, those of our parents, our teachers, those of our boy  or girl friend, friends, and if you had a dog, his expectations of you too.  We strive, we learn, we fall and get back up, and we dream.  I have gone on ad nauseam about the white knight fairytale that most girls in my age group and possibly before were raised to believe. Gosh it’s your lucky day, I’m not knowingly going there.

When I was a teen and knew everything, I so very much wanted to be a professional dancer…..or a marine biologist.  The expectations I set for myself were full of blinders that didn’t allow me to realize at that point that there is 1) a need for talent, and 2) or eight years of college and Zoology. My reality was that my grades were no-where near the stellar GPA decimal’d (that is totally a real word) numbers required for the much needed scholarships to extend my education.  My counselors never talked to me about it (and take my word for it, I saw my counselors frequently), my parents never talked to me about scholarships and students loans (the reality is in 1973 when we moved to Oregon my parents had $36 left over after bills our first month there – my going to college was probably a fear for them.)  My expectations were blue sky and mindless in truth.

My reality at that age was that I fell in love, had a baby and chose being a mom over chasing elusive butterflies.  I have no regrets.  What have I missed? Not a damn thing. I have been to Europe, twice. I have enjoyed a series of hobbies, sports, and men. I have watched a wonderful daughter turn into a beautiful woman and mother. I have made friends with my parents, learn to see the blessings and gifts that they gave me.   I have tattoos, multi pierced ears, broken my both foot and butt, reveled at the beautiful color of my eyes, and cried over the lumpy cottage cheese that makes up my thighs.  It is what it is.

I am better for the trials and tribulations that lay both behind me and ahead.  I have evolved through the teachings of those who have touched my life.  I have morphed  through the laughter and tears, the joys and pains, the crisis and glories – every heartbeat, breathe, and step has lead me to this moment, to the person I am, and the person I will soon become. I have absorbed the best in essence of those who touch my soul.  I am blessed.

The dreams I once had lay dust at the feet of what my life has been, because the reality is… dreams are just that and we grow to embrace what life and circumstance hands us, and while some will just choose to survive, I choose to thrive beyond.


Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Colors of Spring


Don had a delightful post of spring pictures from his yard.  I love Palasso Pentossi (commonly referred to as Don and Scott's house) it's a place of peace, light and water.
What I missed from his post was a picture of the wonderful Morning Glories he USE to grow. Beautiful, but apparently a little too prolific. I could never get the seeds to germinate. I think Psam finally went and bought seeds                                      

The colors of spring are the light and greens of my hostas and ferns.  And the pretty little forget-me-not type flowers.
The greens of my Akiba vine dotted with it's small maroon flowers (it has never developed fruit, but boy it grows and grows and grows.)

My favorite orange tulips in the mids of Dutch Iris greens.  The purple buds of lilacs and fushia of the cyclamens on my deck.  I love the colors of spring.