Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Mark Germino (no website)
[Edit to add: The problem with lists like this is that someone always seems to get left off. I woke up this morning and it occurred to me that I had forgotten about Nashville's finest, David Olney (on myspace). It's only been a few times that I have been lucky to hear him live, but each time he has absolutely owned the room with his beautiful and stirring yarns of characters real and imagined.
One more than one occasion, I have brought a friend who had little or no interest in the artist and was just tagging along with me to tag along with me. Each time, by concert's end that friend would be asking me all kinds of questions about David Olney and where to buy his CDs. If for no other reason than "Jerusalem Tomorrow," he is one of the best that Nashville has.]
Monday, October 30, 2006
We can’t shake this creepy feeling that we’ve been violated in the most disgusting way, made to fear the loss of the roof over our heads. I firmly believe that the mystery illness Jon suffered in August was a direct result of the stress he was trying to cope with, the stress of trying to remain calm and level-headed as he watched his wife collapse frequently into a sobbing heap on the floor.A few years ago something happened that I won't go deeply into. Suffice it to say that I made an honest man's error in judgment that, in the blink of an eye, made me vulnerable to a lawsuit. Going through life alone is one thing, but when there is a partner and there are dependants, these setbacks can feel both devastating and demoralizing. For so many months after the incident, I lived in fear not that I would be faced with impossible financial repercussions but that my family's needs and wants would now be severely restricted - and thanks to me. I don't recall a period in my life where I felt so low for so long.
I have not handled this well. I have also felt completely responsible for putting my family through this, for being the reason that our futures were jeopardized, and the guilt of that has been almost too much to live through.
The good news is that nothing came of it. Absolutely nothing. People who could have milked a situation for easy money apparently chose not to. As I had prayed those many months for my family's well-being, I still offer a prayer of thanks for that family's honesty. Unless there is more to the story than I know, these were rare and honest people. I had dodged the metaphorical bullet. My wife and I still struggle like most folks do and there is no dishonor in that. She works and I work and the kids grow up a little more each day.
The autumn leaves outside are stunning. With my camera in hand, I will leave for work today a bit early and snap some pics along the way. Life can be beautiful, indeed.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Joshua: What's he doing now?It would have been funnier if the conversation had continued as such:
Me: Well, nothing right now. It's a time out.
Joshua: He's in time out? Did he push his sister down?
Joshua: He should say he's sorry and kiss his sister.
Me: Only if the game ends in a tie, young son.
Or maybe I'm not remembering that quite right.
Today is nice but a bit weird. My wife is at the Titans game and I am home with the kids. They are sleeping soundly with dreams of stormtroopers dancing in their heads. (Well, I doubt the stormtroopers are actually dancing, but what do I know? They're not my dreams.) I have the game on but the sound is off. An archived performance of the Grand Ole Opry is playing on my laptop and Trisha Yearwood is singing about some girl who is in love with some boy.
My wife loves country music and I love music more along the lines of Nine Inch Nails and Tom Waits. But here I am choosing to listen to steel guitar galore while she is away. I'll leave that tidbit for someone else to analyze. My little guy just woke up from his nap and he wants to watch Star Wars again. Works for me. I can always keep up with the Titans game online.
There was a lot more to it than that, though. An Illinois farm girl from Irish Catholic stock, Kathleen was the catalyst for the dramatic sea-change in Waits's music that occurred with the release of Swordfishtrombones in 1983. 'I didn't just marry a beautiful woman,' he says, 'I married a record collection.'The songs he writes with Kathleen are often filled with echoes... more>>
Saturday, October 28, 2006
For now, his thoughts on the film:
Opening title crawl: "Oh no, it's over."
On R2-D2: "What's the little baby saying?"
On Chewbacca: "That's a big dog."
On Darth Vader: "Ooh, I see the black guy. What's his name?"
Luke's landspeeder is a helicopter.
The sandpeople use a broomstick as a weapon.
C-3PO is R2D2's daddy.
Women across Nashville will be calling off work on November 6th this year. Are they making a point? Is there a protest of sorts going on?
Nope. Just an aging rocker making all of us other guys look bad. I've heard it said that his eyes are "dreamy," his body "sexy," and his hair...well, it's just unfair to compare his locks to ours. But, Jon "I'm sexier than Mike" Bon Jovi will be performing live downtown with Sugarland for Good Morning America. Bosses of women across Nashville should just accept that their estrogen wearing employees will be in a few hours late that morning. They should just smile politely when they hear phrases like, "He looked right at me!" and "Husband? What husband?"
Many years ago, when I was but a young teen nerd, my music industry aunt took me backstage to a Bon Jovi concert. I tried to impress my wife with this bit of info but it just didn't fly. Jon had gone straight from stage to hotel room, leaving me and others to meet everybody in the band except him. So I was cool, but I wasn't that cool. Sorry Tico Torres, but I bet you get that a lot.
Ever the mood killer, I think I asked him something about the dangers to the skin associated with tanning. His answer was instant and beautiful (or dreadful if you are the serious sort). He quickly noted that studies had shown that the rays from tanning beds "do cause cancer. But it's cool because it's not the kind of cancer that kills you."
Does that work in pickup lines, too? "I should tell you that I do have an STD, but it's cool because it's not the kind of STD that kills you." Try it and get back to me.
Friday, October 27, 2006
The temporary descent into complete tastelessness can be a beautiful and wondrous thing.
For eight plus hours, I wore the uniform and the name tag. I said things like, "Yes, sir" and "My pleasure, ma'am." It didn't come up but I was prepared as always to "beg your pardon for the inconvenience." My posture was a sight to behold and my manners designed to impress.
But as Bob Dylan sings, "it ain't me babe."
Underneath that red pressed uniform, my skin is more closely covered by a tight Led Zeppelin t-shirt reading the following: "Squeeze My Lemon." And we know the rest of those lyrics, don't we?
I clocked out and descended the cold blue steps to the locker room and exchanged my black shoes/black slacks for my three year old tennis shoes and my ripped blue jeans. Thirty minutes later, one Waffle House entree consumed (yes, in the words of Tom Waits, "I am a pioneer of the palate") and a six pack of beer and a lottery ticket purchased, I am in my 1991 station wagon and on my way home.
Life is good and it gets better. Once home, I turn on my TV to the almighty IFC and find the greatest of the NC-17s, Female Trouble by Mr. John Waters. It's so bad that it's fantastic. Divine, I am almost embarrassed to say, is someone I can't take my eyes off of. What Divine and John Waters have given to the cinematic arts is certainly...um, not for everyone. I, for one, am a lifelong fan. The purposeful vomit of bad taste is all over this movie.
If the beauty of John Waters is not enough, Pith In The Wind points me to the trailer for some gore galore. (Good luck on the link. The trailer hasn't found a stable home yet.)
But back to Divine. This is terrible and I love every minute of it. It seems like everyone who was ever told "you have no future in the movie business" went out and got involved in this movie. Good for them. We all have a shot is the lesson that I get from this.
One more beer and a few Bukowski poems before bed and I'll get back to being shy and polite tomorrow. Until then, all of this fake blood on the screen looks both silly and fantastic.
DEPT. OF DEMOGRAPHICSWORST NIGHTMARESIssue of 2006-10-30
“No one’s really afraid of Frankenstein,” Timothy Haskell said the other day. Last Halloween, Haskell, a theatre director, staged a public haunted house on the Lower East Side, and so many people showed up that hundreds never made it inside. “We realized that we had to turn away a lot of local people,” Haskell said. So this year he put up haunted houses in all five boroughs, tailored to prey on the fears... more>>
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Since then, Mr. Gopnik has written so many fantastic essays for The New Yorker and one children's book, The King in the Window. His most recent book, entitled Through the Children's Gate: A Home in New York, is a warm collection of essays written since the Gopniks' return to New York City. My favorite of his essays are all here. From his daughter and her imaginary friend, who like so many New Yorkers, has such a busy schedule that he just doesn't have time to play with her and is always promising to call her back ("Bumping into Mr. Ravioli"), to his most wonderful tribute to his friend, Kirk Varnedoe, dying of colon cancer, who takes time to coach football to a group of kids in Central Park ("The Last of the Metrozoids").
It's my opinion that no parent's bookshelf is complete without the works of Adam Gopnik. I read his accounts of parenting and I have no doubt that they have some effect on my own personal approach to the same.
A few related links from the web:
Writer sees life from a child's view
Raising kids in NYC, where even an imaginary friend has a personal assistant
Manhattan to the Moon
Notes from a small island
Laughing Out Loud (with podcast)
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
* U.S. Intitute of Peace Discussion on Afghanistan (9am) - LIVE
* Sec. Rice on Current U.S. Policy in Northeast Asia (12:30pm) - LIVE
* Pres. Clinton Address to Columbine High School (7pm)
I have in the past decade or so turned down countless opportunities for career advancement. Why? I am able to envision that in any of these accomplishments, I'd have to at some point give a speech. And that's my albatross. I've got a lot of good features, I look good in a suit, and I am a warm, kind, and honest guy. I just can't speak in public worth a damn.
Knowing how this silly fear has been holding me back, I finally went to a doctor about it and he kindly prescribed some mild medication. I started taking it, and for a week or so, I did feel much more relaxed. Certain social settings where I would normally feel some anxieties, now left me feeling no stress whatsoever. I was feeling quite good about what I was doing for myself.
And then came my brother's wedding. For the rehearsal dinner, all of the groomsmen, bridesmaids, friends, and family would be saying a few words about the bride and the groom. No problem. No uncomfortable feelings whatsoever. The days pass, I work out what I am going to say, and I feel great.
Then the night of the rehearsal dinner comes and it turns out that not only will we be speaking in front of everyone, but we will be doing so in front of the room, and with a microphone. It's a bigger presentation than I had expected. I still feel fine, relaxed, and cool. I watch several people stand up and speak, most of them prefacing about how nervous they are, but all of them sounding very much like Toastmasters veterans. One guy jokes about how he feels like he's giving a book report in front of the class. Everyone laughs and smiles. This is the warmest and most loving and supportive group of people you could hope for.
And it's my turn. I walk confidently up to the front, take the mic, and proceed to talk before my friends and family. Except I am surprised to hear my amplified voice quiver. And then I can't remember anything I was going to say because I am a) shocked to hear my voice so augmented, and b) put off by hearing the fear that I didn't think I had. And so I give a nervous and shaky but heartfelt 30-second speech. Everyone receives it politely and well, but now I doubt that any little pill is going to help me with this thing.
I've got to beat this thing. Otherwise, I will remain the most well-read, well-spoken entry level worker out there. There's nothing wrong with entry level work, but I am tired of customers meeting me and asking if I am in school and doing this thing part-time. Nope, ten years I have been doing this. No seniority, no significant raises, this is my life. Smiling politely.
."..and prepare to be blown away by how spectacular the french rap song during the closing credits is.
Who knew? French rappers? Hardcore rapping in french is awesome (maybe my critical logic was still suspended). This weekend, I'm going to cruise around downtown blaring french rap. Quoi Quoi! Watch out Red Iguana! Allez Vou!"
The rapper is MC Jean Gab'1 and I'm with Thursday Night. Il cannelle!
MC Jean Gab'1 on YouTube
From the U.K.'s The Telegraph:
Don't be affronted Being affronted (or offended, or complaining about 'inappropriateness') is no response for a grown-up. Only children believe the world should conform to their own view of it: a sort of magical thinking that can only lead to warfare, terrorism, unmanageable short-term debt and the Blair/Bush alliance
Mistrust anything catchy, whether it's the Axis of Evil, advertising slogans, or blatant branding ('New Labour'). Catchiness exists to prevent thought and to disguise motive. Grown-ups can think for themselves
Ignore celebrities, except when they are doing what they are celebrated for doing: acting, playing football et cetera. Skill does not confer moral, political or intellectual discrimination. (Except in the case of writers. Writers know everything and can lecture you with impunity.) If a celebrity is not celebrated for doing anything but being a celebrity, smile politely but pay no notice... the entire article>>
“I tell people you only live this life once,” said Nada Gerais, a saleswoman.
While one of the world’s worst humanitarian crises continues some 600 miles away in Darfur, across Khartoum bridges are being built, office towers are popping up, supermarkets are opening and... more>>
Monday, October 23, 2006
Journalists and aid workers have minimal access to the conflict zone to check claims and counter claims by government and rebel commanders as well as displaced villagers, but Jan Pronk used his authority as Kofi Annan's special representative to make sensitive statements on his weblog.
This month he reported heavy government casualties, the sacking of several generals and... more>>
Living in a country with freedom of the press is, of course, a beautiful and cherished thing. I think about a female journalist covering the President in the year 2006 and it's no big deal. And then I think about Helen Thomas, a female journalist covering the President in the year 1960 and I marvel at her accomplishments, both for herself and for her gender. It was an honor to be near her tonight.
Her latest book is titled Watchdogs of Democracy?: The Waning Washington Press Corps and How It Has Failed the Public. It's available online and at your local library, but I'd recommend supporting local favorites Bookman Bookwoman in Hillsboro Village. It's one of Nashville's best.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Christian is surrounded by some nefarious miscreants.
They've got my daughter and me too. But I don't mind because I am a Star Wars loving nerd.
Joshua loved the stormtrooper...but only from afar. Paige, like me, had a blast.
You just know that his ringtone has got to be "The Imperial March."
Friday, October 20, 2006
HL Mencken once quipped that, ‘a wealthy man is one who earns $100 a year more than his wife’s sister’s husband.’ Writing last April on the definition of poverty in The New Yorker, journalist John Cassidy takes the logic of Mencken’s satire of low-grade ressentiment fully seriously and plumps for its liberal application to public policy. Cassidy argues that it is indeed a hardship to make less than your wife’s sister’s husband ...more>>
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Steve Wynn, hotel casino magnate, was showing one of his paintings, Picasso's La Reve, to some friends and managed to poke a hole in it with his elbow. He had agreed to a selling price of $139-million only a couple of weeks beforehand and had just, with one badly orchestrated gesture, killed the deal.
Remember Kevin Nealon's Mr. No-Depth Perception from SNL? Steve Wynn reportedly suffers from something resembling that. It's actually called Retinitis Pigmentosa. My eye doctor tells me that I have a similar affliction, which is why I don't go around buying Picasso paintings. The risk is just not worth it to me.
Surely we've all unintentionally damaged something of value. What's your favorite "oops" moment?
Punctured Picasso could still pay off - Chris Lackner Surprising, but it makes sense.
A $139-Million Tear - Rob Long A great piece on Steve Wynn comparing this recent tear with the mini-bars in Mr. Wynn's hotel rooms.
The New York Times has a story about a little controversy regarding romance novels and the intellect of their readers:
"The Greater Washington Initiative, a business group devoted to attracting investment to the area, put up the posters, which feature side-by-side photographs: of a man reading Plato’s “Republic,” under the caption “Greater Washington Subway Reading,” and of the same man poring over a romance novel, under the caption "Average Subway Reading."
Susan Combs, running for comptroller in Texas, wrote a romance novel in 1990 and her opponent, trying to use that against her, is accusing her of writing pornography.
I've never read any romance novels, but ever since Robin Williams' homeless character defended them in The Fisher King, I've been quick to defend them as well.
Lydia: Yeah, but what we publish is mostly trashy romance novels.
Perry: Don't say that. There's nothing trashy about romance. In romance is passion. There's imagination. There's beauty. Besides, you find...some wonderful things in the trash.
What a beautiful way to put it.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
[Note: I found this via TheBosh. After perusing the site a bit, I am not sure if it's a reputable source for news. It's quite gossipy (and fun). Still, the idea of the album is kind of cool. I hope the rumor turns out to be true.]
Holly Cole did a great Tom Waits covers album. Diana Krall's interpretation of "Temptation" is one of my all time favorite of Tom Waits covers. I'm betting that Scarlett Johansson can do the work justice.
Of course, the covers album I'm most impatient for is the one by Southside Johnny. He has lived and breathed those songs for more years than Scarlett has been alive. No offense to the young movie star, but age and hard road win out in this comparison. I'll buy them both though. I'm a sucker for all things Tom Waits related.
Mine is probably a bit odd, but it suits my quiet relationship with the world quite well. I'd like to take a month (maybe two), and ride the rails across America. One ticket, my camera and my notebook by my side, and a lot of stops along the way. I'd research all of the planned stops and take the time to get to know the towns. I've spent many an evening looking at various AmTrak routes and envisioning myself with a window seat, watching my America as the steel train made its way across so much history. I'd be a regular Peter Jenkins, just with a lot less walking.
Plan B is to get a job as a flight attendant and move about the country from a somewhat higher vantage point. At least plan B comes with uninterrupted pay and health insurance benefits. The resume is in. Now I'm just waiting for that call.
What's on your list?
Monday, October 16, 2006
The Nashville Zoo has Ghouls at Grassmere running October 20 - 22 and October 27 - 29. They are also interested in volunteers.
Our neighbor to the south, Franklin, has its annual Pumpkinfest on October 28.
The Belle Meade Plantation jumps into the mix as well on October 27 with its Haunting Halloween Evening Tours. Here you will find an "interactive Victorian seance, horse-drawn hayrides, creepy stories, palm readings, eerie refreshments, and more. Not recommended for children under 12."
[I'll add to this later. I'm late for work.]
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Cross-eyed? Bruised? Colorblind?
Got vertigo? A girlfriend in a coma?
They're all here this week.
Now that's some theme!
Listen to the archive (available until next Saturday's show replaces it) of Claire's radio program, I Like Songs.
Here is the playlist.
Enjoy and feel better.
I have no ideas. Where do you coupled bloggers with kids go when the opportunity presents itself?
[Edit to add: We drove to Hillsboro Village, had a nice walk around despite cooling temperatures, and shared a pizza at Pizza Perfect.
She: Watched the Florida-Auburn game on the TV.
He: Perused the Nashville Scene's yearly "Best Of Nashville" edition.
Afterward, we walked a bit more and then came home. We here at Chez Bez know how to live it up. Bottom line, it's just nice to spend some quiet leisure time together. It's a rare and treasured thing these days.]
Muhammad Yunus, the microcredit pioneer, and the bank he founded in Bangladesh, Grameen, were presented... more>>
MÉLISSA THEURIAU, 28
This is how you reverse the steady twenty-five-year decline of the American network evening news: You don't hire for the gravitas of Walter Cronkite. You don't hire for the courage it takes to report from Tikrit. And you don't hire Katie Couric. You hire for exquisite beauty.
Theuriau can be seen on French network M6 (or on YouTube, which is where we found her). She is, by any reasonable global standard, jaw-droppingly beautiful and almost certainly the most attractive person ever to use the term "G-8 Summit" ("le Sommet du G-8"). Or "remote-controlled bomb" ("la bombe télécommandée"). Or "good evening" ("bonsoir").
And she is a bright face that a troubled nation desperately needs.
A woman this beautiful would do for American television viewers the same thing she would do if she walked into a dimly lit bar: She would heighten our awareness. She would focus us. And more important, even as she was delivering a laundry list of really bad news (in French if necessary—we don't mind subtitles), she'd make us feel better about being alive. A Senate speech wouldn't be any less nane for her having told us about it. A tornado wouldn't be any less destructive. A brood of ducklings wouldn't be any less motherless. But described by such a mouth, softened by such eyes, set against such skin, our world would seem a little less doomed. —ROSS McCAMMON
Friday, October 13, 2006
Credit & Copyright: T. Rector (U. Alaska Anchorage), H. Schweiker, NOAO, AURA, NSF
Explanation: In the vast Orion Molecular Cloud complex, several bright blue nebulas are particularly apparent. Pictured above are two of the most prominent reflection nebulas - dust clouds lit by the reflecting light of bright embedded stars. The more famous nebula is M78, near the image center, cataloged over 200 years ago. On the upper left is the lesser known NGC 2071. The image was taken with the Mayall 4-meter telescope on Kitt Peak, Arizona, USA. Astronomers continue to study these reflection nebulas to better understand how interior stars form. The Orion complex lies about 1500 light-years distant, contains the Orion and Horsehead nebulas, and covers much of the constellation of Orion.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
-from Thought-of-the-Day on Refdesk.com
But this love she has for Captain Jack Sparrow is starting to complicate matters. Stupid pirate.
But you should see the beautiful burlesque review that is Panty Raid! when they perform for KATY K's Halloween Girlesque "STUDIO FIFTY GORE" on the last Friday of October.
Or if that sounds too pretty for you, you can always see Gwar at the Exit/In on December 4. I'll do my best to see both.
A friend of mine keeps threatening to buy and wear a t-shirt just for me which reads, "No one cares about your blog." I think I could accurately wear a t-shirt that reads, "Even I don't care about my blog anymore."
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
- Letters from the Other Side - A look at four Mexican women and their families, and ways their lives are impacted by immigration. One woman has tried to make a new life for herself and her two daughters by selling cactus products. (2005) Documentary, PBS
- Slut - A look at the meaning of the word and the intrigue and fascination associated with it. (2005) Documentary, Sundance
Monday, October 09, 2006
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Me? I'm voting for Pippin. Pippin has fliers all around east Nashville. Pippin even has a myspace page. Obviously, Pippin is a social animal who cares about you.
So go here, scroll down, and vote once a day through Wednesday and show your support. I've even heard it said that Pippin has promised never to poop in your yard. Have Pippin's opponents promised the same? I don't think so.
Pippin thanks you for your vote.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Sounds good to me.
Give it a listen. If you read this late, each show is archived for a week here.
Friday, October 06, 2006
We'd been enjoying a lot of success and so my team was feeling a little cocky. I said, "OK, guys, I want you to close your eyes and imagine this." And I started to describe this company that was beating our pants off. As I looked around the room I saw the color melt out of everybody's face. And I said, "If this were real, how would you feel?" ...more>>
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
You are a refugee.
This is your life. (Scroll down and click "View a flash preview of the exhibit.")
Go to Centennial Park between Oct. 4 and Oct. 8 to tour the simulation of a refugee camp.
Concurrent to this is a photo exhibit inside the Parthenon ending on Oct. 7. It is titled Doctors Without Borders: Photographs From Afghanistan 1984 - 2004.
Doctors group brings refugee camp exhibit here
Centennial Park will become a sea of tents as Doctors Without Borders simulates a refugee camp
Doctors Without Borders Nashville presskit
Monday, October 02, 2006
The guitar, however, stayed high on the list. For the next day or two, everytime Joshua's mom or I left the house, we'd hear, "Are you going to buy me a guitar?" or when he'd see me with any dollars in my hand, he'd inquire, "Do you have enough money to buy me a guitar now?"
And so, his mom went shopping this morning and came home with Joshua's first guitar. The three year old was ecstatic. All morning, he's been holding and strumming and picking. He's progressing nicely even though he keeps calling the pick a pickle. He's loving his guitar and it's great to watch him walk around the apartment with it.
The girls at daycare are going to love him.
She's known me as a good kid and she's known me as a troubled kid. She's been there for me at my happiest and she's been there for me when I couldn't see any reason for happiness. When I self-analyze, I can't help but see her influence in the best parts of who I am.
During the Great Candy Bar Shoplifting Attempt of '74, it was she who questioned me about the not purchased confection in my right hand as we exited the store. And within the minute, I was issued my scolding and was sent back to the cashier to replace what was not rightfully mine. I learned then that a life of crime would not be tolerated by my matriarch. (Of course, I seem to have no problem lying about remembering in what year this occurred, to say nothing of recalling in which hand I clutched the candy.)
I'm told (or do I remember?) that she would play "Time In A Bottle" by Jim Croce on the record player when I was a toddler and she would hold me and we would dance over and over to that song. It was through her influence that I also learned at a young age to love the music of Queen and the Beatles.
It was she who signed me out of school early one day so that she could take me to the first showing of The Empire Strikes Back at the Melrose Theatre. I knew that somebody was somebody else's father hundreds of minutes before most of my friends. And if I had had the foresight to not open the absolute plethora of Star Wars toys that she bought me over the years, I'd be a much richer man today...but then I wouldn't have the memories of playing with those toys that brought me so many hours of fun.
I never really went through the teenage rebellious years - sullen, but not rebellious - because she never really gave me much to rebel against. She never had a problem with long hair, loud music, or concert tees. In fact, she once took two of my friends and me to see Ozzy Osbourne and Motley Crue. Some parents would have gone just to keep the kids out of trouble. My mom went mostly as a fan. Imagine my friends' reaction when they looked to the row behind us and saw my mom rocking out more than we were.
She's been through a lot in life. She's had two divorces and she recently lost the love of her life to multiple sclerosis. She's more wonderful than she knows and I wish she could see herself through my eyes, or I wish I could do a better job at showing her how I see her. Whenever I sing to my children, I think of her singing to me when I was a child. When one of my kids is hurt or sad, I know that the need I feel to protect them is exactly the same as my mom's need to protect her children.
I thank her for who she was before I came around, and I thank her for who she has been for the 36 years that I have been her son. It's love and kindness that guides her. I can ask for nothing more from the best influencer in my life.
Later in the morning, I'll call her and tell her happy birthday. I'll also tell her I love her and that I'll visit her on my next day off. Hopefully, I'll remember to buy her a card. But for now, as I finish writing this, I'll listen to Jim Croce sing "Time In A Bottle," and I'll know that life dealt me a good card when it made me her son.
Anyone want to give my mom proper birthday regards? I dedicate this post and the comments to her.