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Musings on anything. |
 My blog was filled up. I'm too lazy to clean it out. So I started a new one. |
| My brother and I have established a storytelling routine with the children in our extended family. They can be repetitive or stumbling, but sometimes they are quite inventive. They catch each other using some story line from a movie or tv show with different characters pr actions, but don't all authors do that? They give a lot of details, including colors. We have some budding fantasy writers in our family. This one is based on a six-year-old boy's tale. Six-year-old Hank begins his tale, "once upon a time, a cowboy named Roy had to go after some rustlers. He rode a pale unicorn with a silver horn. He rode out to the desert and over the mountains. The unicorn could fly when it had to." "They stopped at a stream for water. Other cowboys were coming up the mountain below. They also rode unicorns." His aunt interrupted. "Did Roy wear shiny black cowboy boots and a cowboy hat?" "No, they were brown like mine with some with some white decorations. He looked over the hill and saw a dragon come out of the cave in the mountains. He roared, but he did not breathe fire. There was going to be a war." "Roy got on the unicorn and signaled to the men on below. He whistled to them. The dragon looked up and snarled, but he did not breathe fire. More dragons came from behind him. They were big with long tails." Hank looked off in the distance. "So what happened next?" asked his aunt. "They had a battle. The dragons won. They were stronger and meaner." "What happened to the cowboys?" "They died." "All of them? Even Roy?" Hank nodded. "What about the unicorns?" "They were all killed, too. Their magic was just small." He pinched his fingers in the air and shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, my. That's a shame about the unicorns. Is there more to this story?" "Nope." "The end?" "The end," he said with a nod. |
| Mr. Lightfoot is 83 years old and still doing tours. I think it's great. I hope I'm still around at 83; traveling and working would be even nicer. However, you can't go to a concert of an 83 year old musician and expect him to sound like he did at 50 or 30. To make matters worse, he had a sinus infection and had to use a nebulizer a few times. Of course, everyone expects the guy to look older, but then they're upset he doesn't sound like the album at home. He is still a great guitarist. He still tells funny stories of his experiences and travels. I saw him a few years ago with my father. He was losing his voice then but played a longer concert with an intermission. I was impressed with his guitar skills. This time it was a shortened show with an opening act. Even the songs were shortened versions. His voice had dramatically changed. He kept going even when his breathing faltered. I have lost my father since that first concert, so this one had a little bittersweet nostalgia to it. And this time I was not a paying customer sitting in a comfy seat. I work as a volunteer at a historic movie theater that has been converted to allow multiple venues and seats slightly over 1000 people. All the seats were sold, so I stayed on my feet the whole time. I heard lots of comments from the patrons, who were mostly gray or white-haired. They either didn't like seeing him in this frail condition or they were celebrating his fortitude and remembering his past. I remember seeing Loretta Lynn on an outdoors stage, also limited seating. She was frail and getting feeble mentally. Her voice was also gone. Unfortunately, she still dressed in the frilly clothes of her youth and looked clownish. But I had that same feeling then of honoring her past mixed with sadness that she was in her twilight years of performing. I like seeing older stars like Clint Eastwood and William Shatner keep working and creating in the golden years. Singers, on the other hand, can't adjust like directors and actors. They are expected to live up to their former selves. We have to accept that if they are up in years, a concert is only a chance to look and remember, to pay respect, but not to relive their former glory. |
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These days I just have houseplants and one lonely portulaca that came up by seed and has bloomed this past week. I've been "home" for three months and the plants have responded well. But, I long for Thailand.