I like talking about the zeitgeist—current events and popular culture (especially movies and TV). I also love talking about books with my book group and music with my choir peeps. I enjoy hearing about people’s travels (to a point). I’m not a big sports fan, but if a Boston team is in the playoffs, I like to know what’s happening with that. Go Celtics ☘️! (and Bruins, I guess)
And as anyone who follows my blog knows, I despise Trump with a deep, burning, crimson hatred I’ve never felt for any other public figure in my lifetime, so I’m always up for any conversation which involves trashing him.
Am I the only one with a sign like this on display in my kitchen for the past 8 years?
I have nothing for this prompt. I mean, I’d never want to visit a war zone, or someplace similarly unsafe. I admire all the brave journalists, like Clarissa Ward, who are willing to bring us news from dangerous places around the world.
Totally unrelated, did anyone happen to see Billy Joel performing his 100th concert in Madison Square Garden on CBS Sunday night? He still sounds great—both voice & piano. After telling the audience he didn’t know what was going to happen on the high notes in “Innocent Man” (and giving them permission to grimace), he nailed it. He’s 74 years old. At one point, Sting (fit and ageless at 69) waltzed out in a perfectly tailored shiny suit and they did a jazz number, backed by the amazing band. It had the feeling of a GenX “rat pack” reunion. The audience (me included) sang along with all the songs, including the new one, but especially with the last one.
Love hurts, love scars Love wounds and marks Any heart Not tough or strong enough To take a lot of pain, take a lot of pain Love is like a cloud Holds a lot of rain Love hurts Ooh, ooh, love hurts
I’m young, I know, but even so I know a thing or two I learned from you I really learned a lot, really learned a lot Love is like a flame It burns you when it’s hot Love hurts Ooh, ooh, love hurts
Some fools think of happiness Blissfulness, togetherness Some fools fool themselves, I guess They’re not foolin’ me
I know it isn’t true I know it isn’t true Love is just a lie Made to make you blue Love hurts Ooh, ooh, love hurts Ooh, ooh, love hurts
I know it isn’t true I know it isn’t true Love is just a lie Made to make you blue Love hurts Ooh, ooh, love hurts Ooh, ooh, love hurts Ooh, ooh…
We had a good eclipse! We headed out to the back yard about 2:15pm with some wine, weed, and snacks. We put Alexa in the window and asked her to play “eclipse songs” which she did.
We could clearly see the eclipse with our special glasses on, but we discovered that it was very difficult to get a picture of it, even with the glasses covering the camera lens, but we tried.
Failed attempt, but weirdly you can kind of see the reflection of the eclipse in that tiny green dot to the left of the sun
The temperature dropped noticeably as the sky darkened more and more. It was strange.
We could still clearly see our shadows, but the light was eerie. A sunset from above.
We decided to shut off Alexa at the point of maximum coverage (about 94%, I think). The last song she played was “Walking on the Moon” by The Police, which was perfect (a GenX classic). The animals got really quiet too. But then suddenly, a Barred Owl hooted really loudly. It startled us. And then another owl answered. It was pretty wild. I pointed my video camera towards the woods and I caughtthe sound when it happened again. Listen:
The owls really added to our eclipse experience, making it quite magical and mystical. I thought about how this is a time of transition for us.
All in all, a fun afternoon. Something different. It was also fun getting pics from the rest of the family in various locations and seeing all the posts online.
My daughter and her boyfriend managed to get this nice pic about an hour southwest of us:
About an hour after the eclipse, our woodchuck appeared for the first time this season. He’s been living under our shed for several years now. Hello friend.
Naming facilities is something I know a bit about due to my career in fundraising and philanthropy. At my last job, we built a sweet, state-of-the-art, 300-seat black box theater that could’ve been named (in 2009) for a mere $3 million. Sadly, we could not find a lead donor at that level…in Boston of all places (where we have many wealthy patrons of the arts). It was a real bummer. A total fail. We blamed the recession.
More recently (in 2023), a spectacular new non-profit community music center opened up near my home in the northwestern suburbs. And when I say spectacular, I mean it. You’ve heard of Tanglewood, right? This place is like Tanglewood East. Check it out here. I don’t know how much Groton Hill Music Center cost to build, but I’m certain it was hundreds of millions of dollars with the massive parcel of land that it’s set on (part of which was formerly owned by rocker J. Geils, who died in 2017). There is no other community music school like it – anywhere.
And get this. It was all paid for (including an endowment for maintenance) by an anonymous donor who wanted NO recognition. He didn’t put his name on any of it! It was only after his recent death that the community learned the donor was Al Stone, owner of Sterilite (maker of those ubiquitous clear plastic storage bins).
Recently, I spoke to Groton Hill staff and here’s what I learned about Mr. Stone. He was a visionary philanthropist. He didn’t believe in naming things (the Susie Smith elevator, the John Doe staircase, etc). He believed that type of fundraising let donors off the hook. Once they’d given enough money to get their names on something, they tended to stop giving. Mr. Stone wanted the community to embrace the venue and keep supporting its operations, year after year, regardless of recognition. The music itself should be the reward.
At Groton Hill Music Center, all donors (from $100 to $1,000,000+) are listed on a simple, tasteful sign in the lobby. A community resource this magnificent belongs to all of us.
I was in awe the first time I went to a concert in the largest of the venues within the music center. Known simply as “The Concert Hall,” it can seat 1,000 people and hosts all types of artists—from major classical performances, to Broadway stars, to folk, pop and world music.
Meadow Hall (seats 300)
A partial view of the exterior Groton Hill Music Center, Massachusetts
One of dozens of studios for lessons and rehearsals at Groton Hill Music Center
Are you like me—a musical theater lover who loathes Donald J. Trump with every fiber of your being? If so, then you probably know all about Randy Rainbow already!
For the uninitiated, check him out here. (Gilbert & Sullivan)
I was good at saying “no” to things for many years, especially volunteer roles in my church and in the schools. I had too much going on with the kids and work. I did my part for various fundraisers and events, but I wasn’t one to get roped into running the whole thing. In fact, a woman once told me she admired my ability to say “no.” (possibly a backhanded compliment)
Now that I’m retired (there, I said it) I’m ready to say “yes” to more things, especially if it’s something fun. Kudos to my husband, who is still working, but says “yes” to quite a few of my proposals. He doesn’t agree to everything I want to do together, but I’d estimate that he says “yes” 75% of the time. For example, we went and saw ALL TEN Best Picture nominees before the Oscar broadcast. And he’s been especially good about visiting museums with me. (He likes museums too, but it’s a bit more of a sacrifice for him to make the time to go.)
On Saturday, we went to a very cool exhibit at Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts about Hallyu (Korean Wave)—the surge of popular culture from South Korea that started with K-drama and cinema in the 90s and then spread across the globe with K-pop and its massive fandoms in the mid 2000s. K-beauty and fashion has also been a huge cultural export and Korean designers’ work was on display. After that, we went to a Korean restaurant to round out the K-culture experience.
A K-pop idol’s costume at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Reconstruction of a set from “Parasite,” the 2019 film directed and co-written by Bong Joon-ho. It was the first non-English language film to ever win the Academy Award for Best Picture.
I think the difficult word in this prompt is “secret.” I have a couple of skills that I like to brag about and/or show off, with baton twirling being the most impressive. I can also sing a very high note, when called for. For example, my choir was asked to perform “Bohemian Rhapsody” at a memorial service last year and someone had to sing that very high note (you know the one). It’s a high B-flat. Welp, I fucking nailed it. (And yes, there is a video, but the fact that it was a funeral prevents me from posting it.)
So clearly, modesty is not keeping me from sharing any other exciting skills with the world. If I could choose a new skill to secretly have, it’d probably be clairvoyance. Sometimes, I’d like to know what’s going to happen ahead of time so I wouldn’t worry so much.
That was nice when Billie Eilish thanked her choir teachers at the Oscars when she won Best Song for “What was I Made For” from Barbie.
I had great choir teachers all through junior high and high school. Ms. Glinka was 7th grade. It was 1978 and she was my first-ever “Ms.” It took some getting used to (to call a teacher MIZZ, when we’d only ever had a Miss or Missus). Ms. Glinka was a cool, modern woman who wore dangly earrings. Her main influence on me was that she loved The Beatles and taught us their music. I specifically remember singing When I’m Sixty-Four and Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da in her class. Whoever introduces you to The Beatles shall never be forgotten. Am I right? Thanks Ms. Glinka. You rocked.
8th grade was Mrs. Nolan. She was married to Mr. Nolan, who also taught at the school. Mrs. Nolan was a bit more traditional than Ms. Glinka, but also great. She liked Irish/Celtic music. She taught us All Around My Hat by Steeleye Span, which I loved singing. I still sing it to this day and attempted to teach it to my kids.
Finally, in high school, we had Mr. Phinney. He was a legend in my town. A tall, demanding, sexist, old-school choirmaster, Mr. Phinney presided over the music wing of the school with his equally-powerful counterpart—the Band Director, Mr. Toland. As a majorette (baton twirler) for the marching band, I worked with Mr. Toland as well. If they liked you, you were all set. Fortunately, they liked me, so I had a TON of fun performing in high school ensembles, musical productions, and twirling my baton with the marching band. My best friends came from those circles, two of whom are still close friends of mine.
Mr. Phinney was a bit of a tyrant, but we learned a lot about musicianship from him. I’m surprised our yearbook advisor let that “quote” be printed on his photo.
Although I did not became a professional musician, music is an important part of my life, especially singing with others.
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