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December 10, 1955
Click for full-size photo
I had never seen my parents full wedding album until a couple months ago. My Dad, thoughtful fellow that he is (Hi Dad!) left it out in the guest room in which I stayed. It was pretty amazing.
Here they are on their wedding day having just entered into holy matrimony at the McMaster University Divinity School Chapel.
I've been working on sorting and copying many old family photographs. It's a very large endeavour but quite satisfying.
I'm very fortunate that my parents are still with us and that on Tuesday my spouse, younger son, and I are flying out to Maryland to visit them as well as heading in to D.C. to try and catch a glimpse and perhaps get a photo or two, of the cherry blossoms.
I'll be gone for over a week and may pop in if I get a chance.
Cheers!
--Cyn
Ha, ha. Allison Hannigan (2nd row, last on the right) came up a couple of times (with other photos of my mug). That's cool. Willow rocked on BtVS.
Jessica Biel (1st row, 1st photo on the left) was the closest match. I wish.
Ava Gardner came up a couple time, too. Again, if only.
I don't usually write about my everyday trials and tribulations (deliberate exaggeration) because I've realized I'm not a "writer."
I can write just fine (mostly) but when it comes to cataloging how my day was... so many people do it so much better--take an ordinary day and make it amusing or interesting. With me it's just the facts ma'am.
I don't blame my mother but it was her professed desire that I become what she had wanted for herself-- a journalist. She had a very hard childhood--being orphaned by age 12 and never had a chance to do so.
The thought of anyone judging what I'd written and hacking it up (editing) gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. This however did not stop me from taking journalism classes when I lived in Huntington Beach, CA and writing for the college paper where I was ripped a new one--often.
There are times when I wonder why am I keeping a blog? Writing is painful--at least sometimes. I sit here and look at the blinking cursor. Blink. blink. blink. Like a what? I don't do metaphors or similes or whatever they are called. I have never been good at keeping track of parts of speech. Oh good, I feel better now.
So why this enforced writing exercise? Do I hate myself that much? Why don't I just lurk around and comment in other people's blogs?
Yes, I had a rather bad day.
If you could have three wishes from a genie, what would they be?
Submitted by tatteredhalo.The obvious answer would be "world peace," so I'm not choosing that.
Three wishes, huh?
I want to live on an ocean where the best snorkeling is. Hawaii would be fine.
I want a working teleporter.
I want my sons to live happy, productive lives.
ON a cold morning in 1955, walking to Sunday school, I was drawn to the voice of Little Richard wailing “Tutti Frutti” from the interior of a local boy’s makeshift clubhouse. So powerful was the connection that I let go of my mother’s hand.
Rock ’n’ roll. It drew me from my path to a sea of possibilities. It sheltered and shattered me, from the end of childhood through a painful adolescence. I had my first altercation with my father when the Rolling Stones made their debut on “The Ed Sullivan Show.” Rock ’n’ roll was mine to defend. It strengthened my hand and gave me a sense of tribe as I boarded a bus from South Jersey to freedom in 1967.
Rock ’n’ roll, at that time, was a fusion of intimacies. Repression bloomed into rapture like raging weeds shooting through cracks in the cement. Our music provided a sense of communal activism. Our artists provoked our ascension into awareness as we ran amok in a frenzied state of grace.
My late husband, Fred Sonic Smith, then of Detroit’s MC5, was a part of the brotherhood instrumental in forging a revolution: seeking to save the world with love and the electric guitar. He created aural autonomy yet did not have the constitution to survive all the complexities of existence.
Before he died, in the winter of 1994, he counseled me to continue working. He believed that one day I would be recognized for my efforts and though I protested, he quietly asked me to accept what was bestowed — gracefully — in his name.
Today I will join R.E.M., the Ronettes, Van Halen and Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. On the eve of this event I asked myself many questions. Should an artist working within the revolutionary landscape of rock accept laurels from an institution? Should laurels be offered? Am I a worthy recipient?
I have wrestled with these questions and my conscience leads me back to Fred and those like him — the maverick souls who may never be afforded such honors. Thus in his name I will accept with gratitude. Fred Sonic Smith was of the people, and I am none but him: one who has loved rock ’n’ roll and crawled from the ranks to the stage, to salute history and plant seeds for the erratic magic landscape of the new guard.
Because its members will be the guardians of our cultural voice. The Internet is their CBGB. Their territory is global. They will dictate how they want to create and disseminate their work. They will, in time, make breathless changes in our political process. They have the technology to unite and create a new party, to be vigilant in their choice of candidates, unfettered by corporate pressure. Their potential power to form and reform is unprecedented.
Human history abounds with idealistic movements that rise, then fall in disarray. The children of light. The journey to the East. The summer of love. The season of grunge. But just as we seem to repeat our follies, we also abide.
Rock ’n’ roll drew me from my mother’s hand and led me to experience. In the end it was my neighbors who put everything in perspective. An approving nod from the old Italian woman who sells me pasta. A high five from the postman. An embrace from the notary and his wife. And a shout from the sanitation man driving down my street: “Hey, Patti, Hall of Fame. One for us.”
I just smiled, and I noticed I was proud. One for the neighborhood. My parents. My band. One for Fred. And anybody else who wants to come along.
Oh yeah. :) Just watched all three YouTube videos. In case they go poof the first has some comments by a young Patti on the transition from being a fan to being a performer, then an excellent performance of "Horses."
Second clip--great also--everyone knows the tune, I think.
Third clip is very raw--amateur video from the place where many of Patti's punk rock contemporaries got started. This is Patti paying respects to CGBG's on it's last night before closing forever. It's just fun to see her rocking and I think Flea from RHCP's is backin' her up on of all things, "My Generation."
Patti Smith. Watch the middle YouTube clip. She is so much more than a "poet & perfomer," as the article attribution so primly states. So much more.
My spouse ordered them again this year as a coworker of his has a daughter in Girl Scouts.
If it were up to me I'd keep them out of the house except for maybe the thin mints as I do not feel compelled to consume them in contrast to say...
Thanks to the elf bakers for making the packages smaller each year. That's about the only saving grace. They go quickly.
Show us the best beach you have visited.
Submitted by Marko.
I've spent a portion of almost every summer of my life on this lake. When I was a kid I spent pretty much the whole summer there. Sixty-five years ago my grandfather bought the land and built three cottages on it--one for each of his children. One of those children is my dad. Cool beans, huh?
A lot of my audience are in their 50s. But they want me to pretend to continue to be pretending.
Pete Townshend
...which was pretty much what he said last night after performing the song My Generation. Townshend said that My Generation, no matter where The Who perform it around the world, is the audience's favourite song. He's mystified by that he said--the song is 40 years old. I think though that he was just being polite as much of his audience is in their fifties...they just want to pretend not to be...if only for a couple of hours.
The show was fantastic, btw. I'd not realized what a great, self-depreciating sense of humour Pete Townshend has (lead singer Roger Daltry seemed content to let Pete do all the talking). It was also exceptionally staged--lots and lots of flashy, clever, & nostalgic visuals.
Each band member was nothing less than stellar. Daltry's voice is a bit raspy in spots but he still has the energy and physique of a man half his age. It was a kick to see Ringo Starr's kid Zak on drums. He's probably better than his dad technically though Ringo seemed to have more fun. Zak took the job seriously (though I don't fault him at all for that--the ghost of Keith Moon--who Pete mentioned at least twice, looms large). Pete's little (half) bro Simon did a very nice job on guitar and backing vocals. John "Rabbit" Bundrick on keyboards played beautifully though I wasn't surprised given that he's been in great demand by top-notch bands for decades. Pino Palladino was on bass.
I was surprised though at how often Roger brought out the acoustic guitar. Pretty cool. And of course there was Pete--the heart of the band in every manner of the word. I'm really a Pete Townshend fan versus The Who but since he wrote pretty much all the material I was okay with not hearing any of his solo stuff. And with a history as a band spanning 40 years The Who have a lot of great material so all-in-all an unforgettable evening.
Current mood: 
tired
Which household chores do you most/least enjoy?
Submitted by falcon.kmc.
Do I most enjoy???? Hahahahahahahahahahahaha.
Least: Dusting. It's mind-numbingly boring and redundant.
I live in a house with three men and none of them believe in dusting. So I do the entire house. I'm much more lax than I used to be however and for that I am proud. Perhaps someday I too, will not believe in dusting.
DISSECTING THE DUST BUNNY : www.nrdc.org/onearth/03win/livgreen.asp
by Hannah Holmes
The bulk of your average household dust bunny consists of skin flakes, clothing fibers, outdoor dirt, and tiny shreds of houseplants and newspaper. But look closer and you'll see an even finer, gray dust. That's where the metals, pesticides, soot, and molds congregate; and for those nasty characters, houses are an excellent pollution preserve.
A spousal from-work email...
Just got this in an email:
U.S. Government to Release New Dollar Coins
You guessed it 'IN GOD WE TRUST' IS GONE!!!
Who originally put 'In God We Trust' onto our currency?
My bet is that it was one of the Presidents on these coins.
All our U.S. Government has done is Dishonor them, and disgust me!!!
If ever there was a reason to boycott something, THIS IS IT!!!!
DO NOT ACCEPT THE NEW DOLLAR COINS AS CHANGETogether we can force them out of circulation.
Please send to all on you mail list !!!
edit/
Whoever(sic) sent this to you didn't look at the side of the coin. The words "In God we Trust", along with all of the other statutory elements of the coinage are there, including "E Pluribus Unum" and the year of minting are on the rim. Check it out at http://www.usmint.gov/mint_programs/$1coin/index.cfm?action=EdgeIncused. /edit
Seriously, when I receive email with lots of exclamation marks and all caps which commands me to do or not do something, I immediately assume the "Why should I?" stance.
"In God We Trust" is the current national motto of the United States. It was declared as such by an act of Congress in 1956, displacing the existing national motto, E Pluribus Unum.
One origin of the current motto can be found in the final stanza of "The Star-Spangled Banner," written in 1814 by Francis Scott Key (and later adopted as the U.S. National Anthem), contains one of the earliest references to a variation of the phrase: "...And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
In 1956, the Cold War was in full swing, and the anti-Communist suspicion of the McCarthy era was at its height. Partly in reaction to Communism (which was officially atheist), the 84th Congress passed a joint resolution to replace the existing motto with "In God we Trust." According to United States Code, Title 36, Section 302, the new motto officially displaced the original 180 year-old national motto "E Pluribus Unum" (Out of Many, One) when President Eisenhower signed the resolution into law on 30 July 1956. [1]
Despite longstanding controversy and recent legal opposition to the current motto, the most common place it appears in daily life is on the money of the United States. The first United States coin to bear this national motto was the 1864 two-cent piece. It first appeared on U.S. currency on the back of Florida National Bank Notes in 1863. However it wasn't until 1957 that the motto was permanently adopted for use on United States currency.
In God We Trust is also the official state motto of the state of Florida, and is found on the Seal of Florida. In God We Trust is also found on the flag of Georgia, as adopted by that state in 2003.
The painting above however was something I stumbled across at work yesterday. It sold for seven dollars (after my volunteer 30% discount) as the fully intact and sturdy blue metal frame had some minor scratches on one edge. It's about 4 feet across so it's taking up a large swath of the living room wall but I'm not sure if I really dig it. I know it's okay. And it's not like her extreme animal bones stuff--which are not my favourites, either. I'll just have to keep an eye on it before I come to a decision. :)
Artist Georgia O’Keeffe lived to be almost 100 years old. She grew up in the wide open spaces of the Wisconsin prairies, but as an adult, Georgia worked in crowded New York City. In her later life, she returned to open spaces, this time in New Mexico, where she painted flowers and bones from the desert.
In her 70s, O’Keeffe took her first trip by airplane. She was fascinated by the extraordinary view of the earth with the clouds below her. She made Sky Above Clouds IV after this flight. The painting is 24 feet wide by 8 feet tall. To make the painting, she stretched the canvas across the end of her double garage and had to climb a ladder to reach the top.
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