From The Landmark (subscription required):
Friday, September 19, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Hello, I must be going.
Nice sign that welcomes people to the outpatient mental health facility (aka the Farm House) at UMass Memorial.
It might be a bit more welcoming, however, particularly given the
clientele, if you could see the sign on your way in, rather than as you leave.
It might be a bit more welcoming, however, particularly given the
clientele, if you could see the sign on your way in, rather than as you leave.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Cocktails for Two - Miss Cellania - Miss Cellania
Don used to be able to do a wonderful rendition of the hiccups in this classic Cocktails for Two - via Miss Cellania
Nippies
As you come into downtown Brattleboro on VT Route 9, the first store that you see on Main Street says that you're in some place, um, special.
It'd been more than 30 years since I'd been in the downtown. Then, the brick buildings of the old mill town didn't look so good. The storefronts have been loved up nicely, sprinkled with patchouli, and given a mission and a passion.
Unlike their kindred spirits such as Northampton or Cambridge, Brattleboro drivers aren't as charitable toward pedestrians. People on foot are expected to obey the traffic signals and cross at crosswalks. We heard one driver scold a pedestrian for crossing the street at the wrong time.
So, we're sitting on plastic chairs on a very slanted sidewalk in front of Mocha Joe's cafe in Brattleboro. The late afternoon sun is sliding behind the hills. There's an empty chair next to Sandra. A young man sits down and begins to talk with us (well, with Sandra, mostly). He's from a lot of different places and has lots of ideas. Did you know that the water in L.A. goes through five different uses before it gets to the kitchen tap? He likes Vermont because it has first-run water.
We identify ourselves as aging hippies. Sandra asks if he thinks of himself as a hippie. "Nihilist," he says. "Nihilist hippies. I guess, that makes us nippies."
Soon, a young woman, his wife, sits down on his lap. We briefly mention dogs, at which point, she hops up, lifts her shirt, and shows a tatoo in the southeast corner of her tummy. The tatoo is of her dog, Peaches, who died not long ago at age 23. Lovingly, she says that her husband is the reincarnation of Peaches.
They say that they have no money, but they do have tickets from JFK airport in New York back to the west coast. They're looking for a ride to New York. We mention that we're in town for the Pete Seeger concert and that there might be people from New York who'd help them out. They liked the idea. Then, he notices passer-by who has a shopping bag from Sam's Outfitters in one hand and a small bag of popcorn in the other. "Is Sam's giving away free popcorn?" Peaches asks. The passer-by nods in the affirmative. Taking their leave quickly, the two head into Sam's.
It'd been more than 30 years since I'd been in the downtown. Then, the brick buildings of the old mill town didn't look so good. The storefronts have been loved up nicely, sprinkled with patchouli, and given a mission and a passion.
Unlike their kindred spirits such as Northampton or Cambridge, Brattleboro drivers aren't as charitable toward pedestrians. People on foot are expected to obey the traffic signals and cross at crosswalks. We heard one driver scold a pedestrian for crossing the street at the wrong time.
So, we're sitting on plastic chairs on a very slanted sidewalk in front of Mocha Joe's cafe in Brattleboro. The late afternoon sun is sliding behind the hills. There's an empty chair next to Sandra. A young man sits down and begins to talk with us (well, with Sandra, mostly). He's from a lot of different places and has lots of ideas. Did you know that the water in L.A. goes through five different uses before it gets to the kitchen tap? He likes Vermont because it has first-run water.
We identify ourselves as aging hippies. Sandra asks if he thinks of himself as a hippie. "Nihilist," he says. "Nihilist hippies. I guess, that makes us nippies."
Soon, a young woman, his wife, sits down on his lap. We briefly mention dogs, at which point, she hops up, lifts her shirt, and shows a tatoo in the southeast corner of her tummy. The tatoo is of her dog, Peaches, who died not long ago at age 23. Lovingly, she says that her husband is the reincarnation of Peaches.
They say that they have no money, but they do have tickets from JFK airport in New York back to the west coast. They're looking for a ride to New York. We mention that we're in town for the Pete Seeger concert and that there might be people from New York who'd help them out. They liked the idea. Then, he notices passer-by who has a shopping bag from Sam's Outfitters in one hand and a small bag of popcorn in the other. "Is Sam's giving away free popcorn?" Peaches asks. The passer-by nods in the affirmative. Taking their leave quickly, the two head into Sam's.
Like a tree, standing by the water
Last Saturday night, Sandra and I saw Pete Seeger in concert. He performed in Brattleboro in a benefit for Strolling of the Heifers, an organization that provides micro-loans and other support for Vermont farmers. Pete appeared with his grandson, Tao RodrÃguez-Seeger, and Guy Davis.
Pete's leaning on 90 and doesn't tour much. The (mostly gray-haired) crowd was there not just to hear him perform, but, primarily, to thank him. We thanked him for nearly 80 years of music that strengthened us when we were weary, comforted us when we were lonely, and inspired us when our moral vision was dim.
Because he makes it sound so natural, we forget that he's a formidable musician. His voice may have softened, but his banjo-picking is clear and clean. Tao and Guy are also world-class performers. Together they took us on a grand tour of music's expanses of space and time. Even those of use with 3/4-octave sang along. As Pete has often said, his mission is not to put songs in people's ears, but on people's lips.
Tears welled up from the first song, Midnight Special. Our eyes stayed wet through the closing number, This Land Is Your Land, because it really is our national anthem and because it was time for one of our greatest servants to go home. There's plenty of work to be done, but Pete has earned his rest.
Pete's leaning on 90 and doesn't tour much. The (mostly gray-haired) crowd was there not just to hear him perform, but, primarily, to thank him. We thanked him for nearly 80 years of music that strengthened us when we were weary, comforted us when we were lonely, and inspired us when our moral vision was dim.Because he makes it sound so natural, we forget that he's a formidable musician. His voice may have softened, but his banjo-picking is clear and clean. Tao and Guy are also world-class performers. Together they took us on a grand tour of music's expanses of space and time. Even those of use with 3/4-octave sang along. As Pete has often said, his mission is not to put songs in people's ears, but on people's lips.
Tears welled up from the first song, Midnight Special. Our eyes stayed wet through the closing number, This Land Is Your Land, because it really is our national anthem and because it was time for one of our greatest servants to go home. There's plenty of work to be done, but Pete has earned his rest.
Back to school
Tomorrow morning, I'll return to school. It's not your typical course so I won't be buying a new lunch box or pocket protector. Instead, I'll show up at 9:30 at the Broad Meadow Brook Conservation Center and Wildlife Sanctuary in Worcester and be prepared to look at and listen to birds.
The course is an offering from W.I.S.E. (Worcester Institute for Senior Education), an innovative program of non-credit educational offerings sponsored by Assumption College. (Here's the Fall 2008 catalog in PDF.) The semester is divided into two parts. In the second session, I'll take a course titled Einstein’s Theory of Relativity for Laypeople. I don't think that they'll let us near the Large Hadron Collider, but we might understand a bit better why the world didn't implode when they turned on the LHC.
Monday, September 15, 2008
All that you dream
Lynn's brother, Tom Henrickson,is the subject of this week's cover story in Worcester Magazine.
Tom has written and produced a theatrical short called The Third Date. The article tells the story about how Tom developed and wrote the movie, how he built a network to get the film produced, and how he's continuing to expand the network in the hopes of making The Third Date into a feature-length film. Ultimately, though, the story is about a middle-aged guy with a dream to, as they say in minor league baseball, make it to the show.
Good luck, Tom.
Tom has written and produced a theatrical short called The Third Date. The article tells the story about how Tom developed and wrote the movie, how he built a network to get the film produced, and how he's continuing to expand the network in the hopes of making The Third Date into a feature-length film. Ultimately, though, the story is about a middle-aged guy with a dream to, as they say in minor league baseball, make it to the show.
Good luck, Tom.
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