A merging, an ending

My Aunt sent me a cassette of I'm Your Man when it came out in 1988. I'd never really listened to Leonard Cohen before, so chalk up another one for Sandy.

She died four years ago yesterday. This is the first video of a posthumous release of Cohen's.

And here we are. Brexit begins, the senate acquits. Putin wins.

The year that keeps on taking

George Michael was an incredible talented musician. He became an artist after starting out as a boy duo with Andrew Ridgely with Wham!

This was my favorite song of his. Dead, and only a year older than me. And this year still has six days left.

Failure to thrive

Traveled last weekend and came back with a sickness that has been kicking my ass this week. All the humidity on Long Island combined with going into air conditioning and not enough (never enough) rest added up to something nasty taking hold on my system.

Did get some things sorted about with my Aunt's estate. I now have the rest of her pictures and went though my Father's pictures and did some scanning. A lot of memories went by, good and bad ones. Did end up driving on the LIE during afternoon rush hour to see my Sister in LIC. Nice neighborhood, with a cool view a few blocks from her apartment.



Driving was tiring. Put over 1,500 miles on the car, and it performed wonderfully. Still, it was a long trip in a shot amount of time. That, and my son's annual IEP meeting always adds up to additional sadness and inadequacy as a parent. The meeting went well enough, his Mother had concerns about the amount of a therapy he was to receive, which made sense to me. That my son is attending a new school and they're still getting to know him adds more to the uncertainty. He does seem to be doing well there. We were very concerned about how he would take the transition to a new school and pickup and exchange between his Mother and I, but that has not been a problem. Which is a very good thing.

Called an accountant today, we're meeting next week to talk about finances. This is a first.

Week two of my NFL hiatus is in full effect. Weird getting messages during the game and comments directed to me the next morning about what happened the night before. I do not know the specifics, I see the headlines, but do not know how the Bills are sucking.

Now, back to trying to rest or avoid writing.

Too many Princes are dying this year

When I was a teenager Ska made a little resurgence. I liked Madness and the Specials a lot then learned where they got their music from.

Prince Buster was a legend. He died today, aged 78.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZC6Ot1MLP0

Rest in Peace.

Another good one taken

Bill Hurley was connected to life. A very intelligent man of many talents. He came to Writers Block a few years ago and he earned and deserved our love and respect. A fine poet, a fine Father and Husband. We're going to miss him.

Meanwhile, I keep pulling myself away from the poetry and arts scene slowly. Feeling like I have nothing left to offer because I'm not as directly affected by the topics of the day than others. Don't know if it's age, social or financial status but it's become hard to connect and much much easier to stay at home. If it's not my Son's sleep schedule, my own schedule is wearing me out.

My Son will be 14 on Thursday. He seems to be adjusting ok to the new school and schedule. A much better adjustment than this summer's caregiver. There are still so many challenges and I feel like I'm running out of time somehow. It's hard to connect with him too frequently and that frustrates me as the circle of self blame is all around me.

Solo trip next week. At least the car has roadside assistance.

So i will walk without care, beat my snare, look like a man who means business

Been a shit couple of days, even without the Brexit. My Son is still not transitioning well between his caregiver and coming to my house afterwards. There's a lot of shrieking, hissing and general unhappiness and it takes him a long time to calm down. Even today he greeted my cheerful, "good morning!" with shrieking and pounding on his bed. I know I'm not the cool parent, but this does not inspire me.

While prepping his lunch, this song came on iPod shuffle.



My Aunt was on the one who got me onto Rufus, he was on Geffen and she sent me his first record. That was the first song I heard and I have been a fan even since. Even went to see him live at the Newport during a sad period of my life when I was single. Imogen Heap opened, and Jon Hopkins was in her band. Things do go full circle as Hopkins and King Creosote have come into my radar.

This was on my Aunt's wall, so this show of his that she saw meant a lot to her. She would not have framed it otherwise.



So even with the small blow to her planning that Brexit took yesterday, and with everything else happening, maybe she's trying to cheer me up a little. I'm still not sure what to believe anymore.

Truck, what truck?

52 is an odd year for an even number. I'm one year younger than my Brother when he died. It's tough to wrap my head around that, still, and all the other grief I've dealt with over the last year.

Did a lot of driving this weekend in the new car. It's been a comfort, a lot of fun to drive. Went to Yellow Springs for lunch, another match of International Mini Golf (the first draw!) and to Westerville for dinner. Took in a good sunset at Hoover Reservoir.



My Wife's been taking good care of me. This afternoon we went to the Ohio Theater and took in a matinee of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Clark Wilson did his thing on the Mighty Morton Organ.



So it's been a good birthday weekend. And I got a reminder from my son's mother about upping the size of diapers. He's eating well, if not sleeping right, but he is growing - he never came with a pause button.

The last of the cast

Madeleine LeBeau has died, aged 92. She's one of the faces who are given emphasis in this powerful scene from Casablanca.



LeBeau was one of the many cast members from this scene who escaped nazi Germany and moved to Hollywood to act in films about escaping nazi Germany. A heck of a life and she was the last living member of the cast.

People are hurting today, be kind

This year however, can take a flying fuck at The Moon.

Things the bubble wrap and packing peanuts protected

When I went through my Aunt's belongings after she died, I found a lot of the genealogy I was looking for, a few things she held onto after a life in the entertainment industry and other assorted artwork and memorabilia. I took what I could that day, which was not much as I was on foot and traveling by train, and let my Brother, who is the executor of her estate, know of a few things I might like to eventually have.

What she owned is now in storage, and the company shipped me a few of the things I had asked for. Somehow I received more than a few videotapes of single song rock videos that I could not use, but I do have the home videos of trips she took to Yellowstone Park and Europe in the early nineties. As I watched the trip in Europe I marveled at how happy she was, and how much fun she was having reading about where they were for a guidebook as her husband played around with his new video camera.

One of her drawers had a number of original scripts and screenplays from various productions her company produced in the eighties and nineties. I mentioned this to a coworker and she suggested I donate them to my library's theater department. I got a name of the librarian, gave her a list of what I had and she let me know which ones they can use for the Theater and Research Institute. There will be a little note on the script or in the record that they were donated in honor of her. I am very, very pleased this was able to happen.

A trio I did not want to report

Found out yesterday that my Father-in-Law's Cousin's Wife died. Finally got to meet her during our last visit in June. Lovely woman, who had a very subtle and vicious sense of humor. She and her husband were both doctors, helped build hospitals in India in their missionary work. Good people, who sent us a cool quaich, for our wedding, which we used in the ceremony. They also gave me a great word to use in Scrabble. Hoping the best for her husband of at least fifty years, who faces life without his partner.

Was also very dismayed to hear of the death of Monica Harris in a car accident on Thursday. She was the Wife of Joseph, aka Logic, a poet whom I have come to know though his visits to Columbus. They were both just here a couple of weeks ago with their baby, their third. I cannot imagine what he is going though. It's very hard for my brain to deal with three small kids having to grow up without their Mother. This is a family that has been broken, but will be strong. They also need help. A GoFundMe page has been set up on their behalf. If you can, please consider a donation.

After he announced he had pancreatic cancer a few weeks ago, I figured death was inevitable but did not expect it to be so soon. Pat Conroy was one of my favorite writers. His use of rich, expressive language was an incredible skill. His work was a pleasure to read. His best, and worst traits were that he talked to much. Would have loved to have got to hear him read and tell him thank you. That there will be no new Pat Conroy work makes my world a sadder place.

Not the last words

My Aunt Sandy died on Friday. After she retired, her health deteriorated. It makes me angry that such an active person was not able to enjoy her final years on her terms.

I owe much to her personally and culturally. She gave me a lot, took me on my first plane trip to D.C. when I was 12 and a bigger jerk than I am now. She should have left me there. She made time for me just to talk adult things, turned me on to a good portion of my music collection, got me tickets to The Rolling Stones and The Who, backstage passes to Aerosmith, Cats and so much more. Geez, there were things we outgrew and lost like the “God Save The Kinks” t-shirts she gave us, or the vinyl Yellow Submarine tablecloth.

She’s been a very important part of my life for as long as I can remember. Her own life was amazing. She worked as the office glue for the entertainment industry for 50 years. From the Brill Building, Capitol Records, RCA, Atlantic, Geffen, Dreamworks, an EGOT and SONY it was a wild career that she worked at with amazing professionalism. She was called a “Paragon of discretion” by a household name and I’m seeing the respect and love her colleagues had for her on social media today. Yes, she was cool as all that.

It’s quite touching to learn about this part of her life as she rarely went into detail. She’d tell me that, “George Clooney came into the building, nice man very handsome.” Or, “Woody came into my office because he wanted to use it in one of his movies, all he said to me was when he asked if the air conditioning could be turned off.” “Had lunch with Andy Partridge, brilliant man.” And I’d be, please go on. Really, really wanted her to write it down and unless there’s a diary in her belongings, I think a lot of those stories are lost - which is a damn shame.

As her health wavered a lot of people looked after her. It was frustrating for me as I was far away and have my own challenges here. So the work and care of so many family and friends is gratefully appreciated.

Her services are Saturday in New Hyde Park, and she is going to be buried in the plot with her parents.

He was cool before Snape

Another British legend has died this week, also at the age of 69.

Alan Rickman made every film he was in, even the crappy ones, stand out more. A few years after Die Hard, he starred with Juliet Stevenson in Truly, Madly, Deeply, which is a weepfest of a film that is better than Ghost. I'm pretty sure this is how I first remember him, and his remarkable acting talent.



He left us with so many good roles, and we have those to go back to.

Cancer sucks.

She's uncertain if she likes him. But she knows she really loves him

With snorting head he gazes to the shore
Which once had raised a sea
that raged no more
Like the video films we saw



First thing I saw in my email was a link to his obituary. It had to be a hoax, I thought. Double checked and found the sad news. He and his family kept his illness close, and his final album had many messages to his fans in it. Typing the words David Bowie is dead is so surreal, it cannot be true.

Very hard to imagine a world without him in it. He's been around me for so long, I can't remember him not being close, although I never saw him play live. He's in the iPod, in the CD pile, in the Back Room vinyl. We have the music, the art he made for decades, and we thank him for that.