This is not a good time to pass on politics, should that be an inclination for you this week. What happens in the coming weeks will cast either a light or a giant shadow across all the choices to made in the future. Stay informed; stay the course for change and a better world for yourselves and those you hold near and dear to your heart.
Antje Duvekot, singer/songwriter, chanteuse extraordinaire announces that she has been writing songs again. No better news can be heard across the land. If you are not familiar with Antje's music please let me introduce you. You will never regret the introduction, I promise you.
Go to her website. Listen to her music. Get on her mailing list to make sure you do not miss her when she performs near you.
I find her so talented that I made my first grandchild be born on her birthday...Ok, well...I had nothing to do with that but I am thrilled none the less. It was: "Oh GOD!! I'm a Grandmother and my little angel shares a birthday with Antje Duvekot! Holy Cow!!" True story.
I trust you will be charmed and her music just might become part of your personal soundtrack as it is mine.
I am on the cusp of being unemployed with my position being eliminated due to budget cuts. Consequently, I'm up at 4 AM this morning . I'm 57 - not old enough to retire - not young enough to hire. I'm not marketable. That is the fact of it. What I bring to the work place of skill, enhancements and vision are not recognized as valuable by current standards. In the bleary predawn I was trying to amuse myself after a restless night by scrolling through songs. I spent some time watching Johnny Cash videos, seeing as how that is the only cash I can spend right now. I then moved into songs about the heart of the matter: work and the economy...
For a long time I have been thinking in terms of the last twenty years when I think of America's dependence on oil and an inflated economy but as I looked at this video I realized that our dependence is really embedded deeper within the American psyche and it goes back farther than that. It actually seems to reside on the level of myth for those of us born into the automobile culture.
Given that the oil industry provided the groundwork for the American economy for so very, very long, it stands to reason it will take some time and creativity to realign the structure of the economy on a new foundation. With all the pressure for social reform, tea parties, posturing, posing and denial it seems I am part of a collective group of people who have driven the combustible engine to the end of the line and we just can't stand it. Right and left both seem apoplectic over how they have been "wronged" by each other. I contend that the arguments are somewhat distracting from what has really happened to us all. The gas guage is empty and we have run out of road.
Just as sure as I have skittered along as a wage slave all of my life on the high tide of other people's wealth, taken my directives as a worker bee and carved out my niche of happiness, so have I reached the end of my working day as I have known it. Nobody took me where I didn't want to go and the same goes for my post-war baby clan because on some level, we flow together and we are identified as a group. We are the aging; we contributed ; we deserve respect for that because our work added to the greater good. We will never be young again and...I must say it, though it raises the shackles of my friends who design their very lives around raging against the tide of age, "I'm sorry, but young is NOT better than old; it is other than old".
When it comes to speed and efficiency in the workplace, we are not young and uncomplicated. We bring the depth of experience into the bigger picture. In most work environs, the older worker spells problems and without an understanding of the need for depth and value in the work environment, we become parodies of ourselves and a farce in the workplace. We are living history and history has a vital and rewarding place in all aspects of society. Not recognizing this fact is not only ageist (and a financial bonanza in the pharmaceutical and cosmetic field), but it is detrimental to the greater good of any organization or nation. Elders are in jobs or needing work to make ends meet. Some of the ends are not going to meet because, frankly, some people just don't "get" it. Sadly, some of the worst offenders are the old themselves who are so afraid of their own reflection that they can't stop staring at their wrinkles long enough to recognize the strength staring back at them.
Clearly these are hard times for everyone but if we do not allow ourselves to be overwhelmed and defeated over the loss of what was by busying ourselves with criticizing and commiserating over bits and pieces of our lost youth and arguing over our entitlements, we may just find the things that are possible and have enough strength left over to help develop positive changes. I see this economic stop as a chance to build something not born of war or built on greed, self interest and suffering. Anyway, this is my strategy for the time between now and my next mortgage payment. ( I hear a Greek chorus in the chambers of my mind chanting, "Good luck with that.")
This flashback of Lucas' film "American Graffiti" as it is edited into this song inspired these thoughts in me. The combustible engine gave us a tremendous lift, didn't it? Look where it took us all! Some made piles of dough that they spent right away on novelties or adventures. Some made a haul that they saved and lost in the stock market by trusting people who were greedy and disguised themselves as the status quo. Some made the money and invested it in a better future for others. Some made so much they did all three and then some! I think it is time to park it and take honest stock in what we think is our entitlement here. It seems to me, if we did not enjoy the ride we were given when we were given it, we should check our complaining at the door. Whether we get paid for it or not, there is elder work to be done.
I'm in the third quarter of my word of the year Clarity with the autumnal equinox today. In moving along with this, I've learned a bit about the world and myself and this word, I must say. I'm not the sharpest tool in the box but I think I have a moment or two of inspiration that allows me an egress into an occasional area of something close to validity and value. I am posting this video to maybe give some idea of the kinds of situations I have been trying to clarify for myself. This has been one hell of a week for me, defining clarity has been a harsh mistress this year and it all rests on the close of one hell of a decade. I found this video with the help of those noted below and it just says it all. The lyrics are included below. The fact that the song was a hit single 30 years ago makes me wonder how we could all be so incomprehensibly dense. So it goes. Anyway...
Here's to living in interesting times.
Everybody DANCE!
People movin' out People movin' in Why, because of the color of their skin Run, run, run, but you sho' can't hide An eye for an eye A tooth for a tooth Vote for me, and I'll set you free Rap on brother, rap on Well, the only person talkin' 'Bout love thy brother is the preacher And it seems, Nobody is interested in learnin' But the teacher Segregation, determination, demonstration, Integration, aggravation, Humiliation, obligation to our nation Ball of Confusion That's what the world is today
The sale of pills are at an all time high Young folks walk around with Their heads in the sky Cities aflame in the summer time And, the beat goes on
Air pollution, revolution, gun control, Sound of soul Shootin' rockets to the moon Kids growin' up too soon Politicians say more taxes will Solve everything And the band played on So round 'n' round 'n' round we go Where the world's headed, nobody knows Just a Ball of Confusion Oh yea, that's what the world is today
Fear in the air, tension everywhere Unemployment rising fast, The Beatles' new record's a gas And the only safe place to live is On an indian reservation And the band played on Eve of destruction, tax deduction City inspectors, bill collectors Mod clothes in demand, Population out of hand Suicide, too many bills, hippies movin' To the hills People all over the world, are shoutin' End the war And the band played on
Clarity, vision and transparency are words that I have heard tossed around relentlessly over the past year. From a distance is it so much easier to spot the very large problems. Up close we are so myopic it is nearly impossible to even figure out who to ally oneself with when the suffering becomes commonplace. Sometimes there is no way for one person to stop a poorly constructed concept from gaining momentum, however, one less feast for the beast might gain the one day necessary for the recovery of the what is progressive and positive. As long as there is time; there is hope. I've isolated the bad guy in myself and I will have my hands full with that. In the end, sometimes walkin' the talk means walkin' away when the bottom line is moved too far to accommodate in good conscience.
This isn't a post about events at work as might be suggested by the title. This is a post about how I was invited to explore the music of a band who is going to be playing at he the Wild Buffalo in Bellingham WA at 9:45 pm on Thursday, September 16th . There is promotional work to be done; there are posters to hang; there is word to get out. So it was that I found myself up to my earlobes this weekend in the music of Elephant Revival.
I first heard the Elephant Revival on Sue DuMond's Gleanings Lopez Island radio show that is streamed through KLOI on Tuesday evenings and I asked her about them. She waxed poetic about the band and then someone yelled "Squirrel!" and I was off on to the next thing...until this weekend.
Elephant Revival hail from Colorado. I've never been to Colorado. I think DeVotchKa likes it there so it must be fabulous and everything DeVotchKa does makes me a little light headed. What is beautiful about Elephant Revival is not the Colorado Rockies, though I DO hear a hint of that country Rocky Mountain High whispering through the pines on a few tunes. It would be understating what I've been hearing in their music to isolate their sound by a location as there is some sweet layering of musicianship and genres at work. Here is a taste of what I have been spending the weekend enjoying:
The press says that Elephant Revival transcends folk. I have not heard enough of a panoply their work at this juncture to say but I do hear Celtic, country, folk, bluegrass and a touch of tribal melding into their sound. I look forward to being able to define this clearer after seeing them play live. Of course, they have violin and I've a weakness for this instrument. My name is Cile (no last names please) and I love me some fiddle, God help me. The fiddle player, Bridget Law, in this band is wunderbar and when added to the rest of the pachyderm, well...there is something lovely at work whether you call it transcendent or not!
An elephant is like a rope; an elephant is like a wall; an elephant is like a fan; an elephant is like a pillar...on and on it goes. This Elephant Revival will be like whatever will touch us in time and space and they invite us to listen. We may even transcend to being able to recognize the elephant in the room.
My brother sent me this video and I found it a fascinating historical meditation. It made me wonder if, when it was filmed, it was a folly or a lark. Look what a fascinating spectacle it is 105 years down the line!
I want to share this as a special post for my Elder Blogger friends at Time Goes By and the Elder Story Place for their willingness to follow through on sharing the larks and follies within their hearts. The stories and the experiences are amazing to me and can only increase in value over time. You never know where a legacy may be hidden, The treasure of time and the ability to recognize what is truly important...one of the blessings of aging.
The first track from Airs' Moon Safari
album, accompanied by scenes from a video
shot from a streetcar traveling down Market Street in San Francisco in 1905.
Before the earthquake/fire of 1906 destroyed the area. Remarkable footage of the turn of the century lifestyles in California.Made by cleaverb!
Tonight is my Friday night so when I got a message from Danny Schmidt that Radio Station KALX in Berkely CA was streaming a retrospective of Danny's work at midnight tonight, I was ON it. Don't get me wrong. I like sleep. I'm a big fan of it but I can't think of any dream more eloquent and beautiful than a sit down with a glass of wine and a ponder with Danny Schmidt's muse. I encourage you fans and insomniacs alike to join us at midnight PST and give this show a listen.
Sometimes you have to stay up late and peer into the darkness to get the satisfaction of the big think. Below is a video I captured of Danny Schmidt singing "Grandpa Built Bridges" that he performed at the Green Frog Acoustic Tavern in Bellingham, WA. Danny is sharing here a bit of his inspiration for the song and I apologize for the lack of sound and video quality.
I encourage you to listen to the proper recordings of his work to be found here . Some singers you listen to and they bring you a melody and some singers you listen to and they bring you news from a sacred place. Danny brings both. Give his work a listen, if not tonight then sign on to his email list so you will not miss him when he travels through your town. He travels a lot. He's the real deal.
"...Grampa built bridges with crestview spires With braids of wires and wings of steel Til he walked on over with his heels on fire And the bridge burned back with a captive haze..."
I bring to you ...the danger here that comes from the old town...
This is a wonderful 7 minute video I received from DailyMotion that is whimsical, charming and cradles a loving message. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!
I watch and listen to this video and I think "...we get it, already, about war and killing and suffering. Can we move on to building a better world?" Then I wonder, "...who am I taking to, anyway? Does it matter? I don't think so..." Let us make more of that life-affirming sound!
Thank you Mark Johnson for all you and your PFC crew do to keep us mindful and encouraged to engage in a better world; a better way.
I had an compelling conversation on just this subject with one of my student assistants regarding the treatment of elders in his native culture. He is from Eritrea. I listened with interest as he explained to me the approach his culture has to the older and the elderly and some of his young perspective on this influence in his life. In listening, I realized that this subject that I have been trying to work into my interior conversations of late on the value of aging is more than a solitary dialogue. In my student's case, he was raised by his Grandparents and knew nothing of an alternative perspective until he came to the States. His frustration in Africa was, understandably, never being allowed to openly disagree with an elder. When he came to this country, he was shocked by the conversations that reflected a total lack of respect that his American relatives engaged in. The culture shock has receded but this reconciliation continues in him as he is caught between two worlds. It continues in me too as I expressed to him my frustrations in the culture expecting me to be more matronly than I feel and having to meet that expectation of my age in order to illicit respect. The conversation sort of faded away between us as the work at hand encroached on our conversation. Still, I found myself spinning in a tiny eddy of our exchange.
Thursday I came to reading my daily dose of Time Goes By and was introduced to the geriatrician, Dr. Bill Thomas. He is the author of "What Are Old People For?" and ChangingAging.org as well as being the creator of Eden Alternative and he was making an intelligent and compassionate appeal to Oprah Winfrey to consider what her influence in pitching constant youth has on the aging population of America.
I like to poke fun of Oprah Winfrey along with many others. She seems to get a little suckered by her own PR sometimes and she's an easy target. I too get a glimpse of my own folly of self perception and I am made fun of, too, for far less success and joy than Oprah has created in people's lives. Just walking across the room can illicit any number of mostly unconscious judgments from my girth to my odd hair. I cannot help but have sympathy for Oprah or anyone who is older, in this way. Bottom line, when it comes to the mass media, Winfrey wields a tremendous influence of the perspectives of millions of Americans who, right or wrong, turn to her as an authority on everything from nail polish to Hospice Care. It just is. I think Dr. Thomas does a pretty good job of appealing to, what I consider is essential in Winfrey: her strength of character and ability to grow into new and interesting thought and action.
Granted just because my wondering what old people are good for doesn't make it interesting but the thought that there are unused resources of life-giving, life-supporting and life-enhancing abilities at our fingertips in the cumulative wisdom of the our older years that no one can get to because we are building Club Meds on the river Denile, simple breaks my heart. Especially when I realize that that high rise is going to completely block my view of a satisfying end of my life and cast me and millions of others into it's shadow until we draw our final breath.
In reflecting on my conversation, I realize that my young student assistant needs to have frustration in not being able to openly argue with an elder. He cannot yet see how this has strengthened him. The young cannot understand that this frustration has an actual function that manifests in their adult life to hone a strength in temperament. It creates a stronger adult presence and an ability to fuse thought and action in life. It gives one enough self reflection to temper one's belief in ones own PR. The elders carry the depth of intention and love from the roots of the family to the young, new growth. It is essential and spiritual and cannot be recognized for what it is when we are new to the world. I didn't get to tell him that and I wonder what he would have heard, if I did. We were called away as there is a Club Med with a picture book view of the horizon we are busy building.
Picture: Filimon Ghilbretinsae preforming a traditional dance from his country, Eretria, at Western WashingtonUniversity's AfroCaribbean Club Celebration (and also displaying the fact that, no matter where you are from, everyone has a little bit o'Elvis in their soul!)
Given that the oil industry provided the groundwork for the American economy for so very, very long, it stands to reason it will take some time and creativity to realign the structure of the economy on a new foundation. With all the pressure for social reform, tea parties, posturing, posing and denial it seems I am part of a collective group of people who have driven the combustible engine to the end of the line and we just can't stand it. Right and left both seem apoplectic over how they have been "wronged" by each other. I contend that the arguments are somewhat distracting from what has really happened to us all. The gas guage is empty and we have run out of road. 
This isn't a post about events at work as might be suggested by the title. This is a post about how I was invited to explore the music of a band who is going to be playing at he the Wild Buffalo in Bellingham WA at 9:45 pm on Thursday, September 16th . There is promotional work to be done; there are posters to hang; there is word to get out. So it was that I found myself up to my earlobes this weekend in the music of Elephant Revival.
I had an compelling conversation on just this subject with one of my student assistants regarding the treatment of elders in his native culture. He is from Eritrea. I listened with interest as he explained to me the approach his culture has to the older and the elderly and some of his young perspective on this influence in his life. In listening, I realized that this subject that I have been trying to work into my interior conversations of late on the value of aging is more than a solitary dialogue. In my student's case, he was raised by his Grandparents and knew nothing of an alternative perspective until he came to the States. His frustration in Africa was, understandably, never being allowed to openly disagree with an elder. When he came to this country, he was shocked by the conversations that reflected a total lack of respect that his American relatives engaged in. The culture shock has receded but this reconciliation continues in him as he is caught between two worlds. It continues in me too as I expressed to him my frustrations in the culture expecting me to be more matronly than I feel and having to meet that expectation of my age in order to illicit respect. The conversation sort of faded away between us as the work at hand encroached on our conversation. Still, I found myself spinning in a tiny eddy of our exchange.
