six degrees of separation

only a few weeks ago i blogged about seeing joan rivers...first time...stand up...long island...but this was before robin williams...before joan...and this is no laughing matter...and i wondered about loss and grief...and how if we dissect things we are probably all six degrees or less from it all...and as i pause to wonder if the new york post is even fit for the bottom of a bird cage after it's horrible photos of pre-beheadings...(this is 2014, right...not tudor England of which i am totally immersed in courtesy of "wolf hall")...as i pause in awe at the swift passage of time as we approach the 13th anniversary of 911...i feel sadness in the waning days of summer...realizing how important robin and joan and all brilliant comedians are as they hold us tight in the warmth that is humor...keep us from falling into the abyss of the world as we know it...hoping that generation text will continue the tradition of comedy...which is a step away from tragedy...and find a voice or two that will make them laugh till they cry...and keep the world outside at bay...for a while

everything is illuminated....

fireflies on an august night...a breeze on a beach that hints of fall...a nice glass of wine in your hand as the sun sinks into the horizon...the clichés of summer...what we dream about on a biting cold winter afternoon...but the title of this blog has little to do with fireflies...or even summer skies lit up by crazy storms...it has to do with me thinking about the movie, wonderfully directed by liev schreiber...everything is illuminated...about love and loss and closure...about man's brutal inhumanity and gentle humanity...maybe I am thinking about this because september has always been a month of new beginnings...after august and all that was free and effortless, we move forward and start again...the responsibility of a new school year, or new school...for some back to work...and for me, in a few short weeks, rosh hashanah, the new year...a woman in my writing group read a beautiful piece she was working on...one that asked a pointed question of what you would ask for if given one wish...not that simple, huh?...would it be personal or global?...and I've been thinking about that...and all that is in the past...and what is now...and wondering about what will be...and i dig deep to really decide what that wish would be...one sunset closer to fall...and hoping for some illumination when my eyes close...and the world fades to black

Can we talk?

so, i am looking back at the past week and i realize how bizarre that last saturday i saw joan rivers...and last night sammy hagar (with michael anthony, vic johnson and jason bonham)...no real common thread...although the seeds of humor and music firmly planted in my earliest memories of growing up...vacations in the catskills...borscht belt fever...sneaking in to see the show...comediens...comediennes...and then there was music...my parents and their most eclectic album collection...broadway hits, sing along in yiddish, allen sherman, harry belafonte, ramsey lewis, tito puente, shirley bassey, janis joplin....wait janis joplin??...and there you have it...and so in one week i finally get to see joan...i want to be that fierce at 81...to take all life has handed you and then throw it back while the audiences cries in laughter...sammy hagar...not that i ever really owned any of his cds...but no one could deny his rock showmanship...i was actually very curious when jason bonham's name appeared...remembering how incredible he was with heart at jones beach...secretly hoping for zeppelin tunes...and then getting several...sammy wailing "whole lotta love"...jason slaying "moby dick"...of course, concerts always bring them all out of the woodwork...the almost fist fight over a seat at joan...yes, at a joan rivers performance security was called...not slipknot...then last night...the seat holder to my left...standing and pumping his right arm in the air wildly...while his wife or girlfriend sat in a catatonic state to his left...as the evening wore on he was getting closer to me...closer to pounding my skull with each pump...closer to knocking the steel plate out of my skull...would have sent it flying onstage...sammy probably would have just laughed...autographed it and tossed it back to the crowd...hey, there's only one way to rock...

losing my religion

summer...supposed to be a time of long days at the beach...sweet tea on the porch...ice cream melting in your hands...and catching fireflies in mason jars...but this summer all is chaos...and although the temperature is somewhat tepid here...the world is burning...for long islanders, body parts on lawns in hempstead...machetes...planes landing on roadways, and more...but it distracts from the real inferno...the world...a second malaysian airline catastrophe...and not one nation can seem to get past ukrainian rebels to bring those bodies home...i watched one dutch mother's anguish on tv and had to look away...and i avoid the most painful...israel...hamas has brilliantly created a cesspool of epic proportions that i fear israel can never crawl out of...without shit on their hands...and the world responds...a synagogue filled with worshippers stoned in paris...and not the first time...it goes on...if you think all of this doesn't strike every jew...the most observant to the most self-proclaimed "casual" one to the core...well...makes me think of the southern expression...losing my religion...losing one's civility...at the end of one's rope...sometimes i put that silver peace symbol on in the morning (one that i'd been searching for and found a few weeks ago in a little shop in port jefferson.)..sometimes i just put that on like a wreath of garlic against the vampires...and i pray when i turn that phone on...and scan the news...that this world will be metered some measure of peace

ain't nothing but a dream...

richie havens is following me this week...or i should say his beautiful "follow" is...the radio...there again, wonderfully used in two movies i caught on tv...having seen both so many times..."coming home"..."a walk on the moon"...two stories about women finding their identity in fast changing times...and i mull over all of it...world anguish in the middle east now, far east then...this being july...later this month it will be the 45th anniversary of the infamous walk on the moon...when you look back and put that in the context of the tumult that was the sixties...and the violence of the later sixties...you've got to shake your head and think what a gift that moment was for this nation...to allow everyone to get lost in space for a few minutes...i sit here and wonder...will there be relief from the incessant body count...when do we get to turn down the noise we've created and embrace something collectively...where is our walk on the moon...because if you sing it softly and with purpose...we surely will follow..

summer wishes, winter dreams

i am looking out my window...and the sun is glorious...the birds are chirping...and i am getting ready for work (bleh)...summer has begun...in all its hot, frizzy glory...after a horrible winter and a spring that never showed up...I ask you...then why do i always get that little twinge at summer solstice with the realization that the days now shorten...albeit slowly...but still...almost the way I mentally bargain at the winter solstice...this darkness too shall pass...and i am struck by the thought of how much we bargain with time...particularly as we age...the past few weeks i have had the good fortune to find some old college friends via social media...we exchange life stories and memories...and suddenly, if but for a brief moment, we are back in time looking at our younger selves...and then i look at my daughter...turning 23 this week and older than i was in those faded videos and snapshots...and marvel at the swift passage of time...and think that the greatest birthday wish i can give to her is to not bargain with father time...but just embrace each day the best you can as the adventure and gift it is...and then, reality sets in...how quickly would her eyes roll at the thought...which brings to mind the last line of "the turning point"..."oh, emma, if only she knew what we know now"..."it wouldn't matter worth a damn"

who'll stop the reign?

it is raining...again...and after this past winter i don't think we should have any rain this summer (even if it's not really summer, yet)...well, maybe one afternoon a week...because if it was beautiful out every day then i would never sit at the laptop to write...and then I would feel guilty..and i am rambling...today's rant is about those brilliant sisters....who have contributed so much to our culture...no, i am not talking about the brontes...but the kardashians, of course...because last week...while more girls were kidnapped in nigeria...while 5 of our own were killed in a horrific episode of "friendly fire"...while we lost ruby dee...and, even on lighter notes, when broadway's brilliant audra mcdonald made incredible tony award history (6 tonys, all four acting categories and she's only 43!!)...we get to hear about kourtney...is she pregnant...do we care?...we get to hear about kim and kanye's second honeymoon...see her fat ass in a white bikini...hear about him turning 37 (that's 5 in kanye tantrum years)...thankfully, the real nitwit, khloe, was in absentia...and i want to know...actually beg...can someone take the spotlight from them...someone with real talent...make it easier to wrap my brain around it...how about some kick ass sisters to take the reign...like the wilsons...ann and nancy, of course...