New Year With Friends

So ... sometimes rhymes just pop into my head ... almost always they have a Seuss-like cadence to them.  Or maybe it's Hallmarkish?

For those for whom I had addresses, I sent this in a card.  But I wanted to share it with all my new friends ... Happy new year; I'm so glad we've met.  You all know who you are.  And if this expresses a sentiment you can identify with and we've not yet connected, I hope we do some day.  Soon.

On Making New Friends

The year comes to a close,

I don’t want it to end.

So many memories,

So many friends.

We’ve loved all the music

From Cape Cod to Cali

And points in between;

Too many to tally.

It’s Gavin we know

Who brings us together

In long lines and front rows

In all kinds of weather.

I treasure you all

And the times that we’ve had

Whether in person, on twitter

On facebook, IG just a tad.

I wish you health and happiness

In the year just ahead.

I wish us all music,

I wish our souls fed.

I thank Gavin DeGraw,

His band and his crew.

I’m forever grateful;

Through him, I’ve met you.

Lessons, Carols and More Lessons

There is a beautiful traditional in churches that associate as members of the Anglican Communion (in my case, the Episcopal church).  It is a once-a-year service known as Lessons and Carols.

It's not old as Anglican Services go, having been first offered in 1880 on Christmas Eve by the then Bishop of Truro (who'd later become the Archbishop of Canterbury).  But the most famous Lessons and Carols are offered today, still on Christmas Eve, by King's College in Cambridge (England).  The College first held Lessons and Carols in 1918 and began broadcasting the service throughout the world in 1928.  The Dean of the Cathedral in 1918 was Eric Milner-White.  He'd been an army chaplain and thought that the Church of England could use some "more imaginative worship."  It was King's College that first began opening the service with the iconic "Once in Royal David's City."

The altar at St. Peter's.

My church's celebration of Lessons and Carols is deeply rooted in this standard.  This year's service, however, was truly an amazing gift to our community and, I believe, filled everyone in attendance with a hopefulness and sense of peace that can only come from an acceptance and understanding of how grace has moved through time.  It is, after all, a celebration of grace.

At first I was a bit put off by the date ... December 20.  Although I've previously blogged how I'm perfectly comfortable these days with the blurring of Advent and Christmas seasons in my life, I'd rather expected my church (St. Peter's Episcopal Church, Morristown, NJ) to hold more strictly to the calendar.  At St. Peter's we'd traditionally done these Lessons and Carols on the first Sunday after Christmas Day, usually a couple of days into the short Christmas season.  Of course, it was not well attended, people being either exhausted from the hustle and bustle of the times, traveling to visit friends and relatives or simply, "churched out."  When I finally arrived in the Narthex of our beautiful building after a stressful hunt for parking in downtown Morristown where the restaurants were overflowing and the Nutcracker was being performed across the street, I was amazed and thrilled to find the Nave full of worshippers.  The choir had already begun the first Carol and was in procession, lighting the candles of the congregation as they passed by each pew.  The dimmed lights, dark red poinsettias everywhere and incense that floated through the air all combined to set the stage for the deep and holy mystery that is the story of God's saving grace in salvation.  And I was completely over my hesitation in the choice of dates ....

Another tradition that, over the years, has attached itself to Lessons and Carols is the choice of asking members of the parish staff to read the lessons (we did seven this year).  I was told by a past organist this was regularly done in English churches.  I was always thrilled to read, when I was on staff.  Because I was late (due to the aforementioned parking problems), I didn't see the beautiful procession down the aisle which included the people who were slated to read the lessons we would hear.  When I flipped to the back of my service leaflet, I was amazed to see the names of representatives from all ranks of leadership in our community.  The Reverend Janet Broderick had invited the Mayor, a congressman, a state senator, a school principal and clergy from neighboring churches of different denominations.  How wonderful, I thought.  Here is a living example of how people in the community can come together, despite their differing ideologies and paths in life, to create something of profound beauty.  It's no secret I've lately been pretty disillusioned by people with power and the opportunity to make decisions that affect us all.  I felt a little ray of hope begin to swell at the symbolism of the guests.

After that first hymn in procession and a few prayers, the alternating of carols and lessons began.  Some were anthems sung by our outstanding choir made up of both young children and adults.  Some were carols that were sung by all with soaring descants contributed by the choir.  I've listed the music and the lessons below if you're interested in knowing what exactly was sung and read.

After the fourth lesson, after Jesus had been born again in a manger, we knelt and sang Silent Night by candlelight.  We actually do this every Christmas Eve too.  In the stillness and hush of the darkened church, this simple song and the simple act of kneeling cause me to catch my breath every time.  " ... love's pure light ..."; " ... with the dawn of redeeming grace ..."  It's impossible not to realize how very blessed we are.

Lesson after lesson we heard again about that grace:  that love that came down at Christmas; that love, all lovely; that love, divine.*  The musical choices were spot on; our Director of Music, Joshua Stafford has a gift for choosing the right piece for each moment.  Our choir is made up of very talented musicians, some professional and some for whom this is their contribution to our ministry.  The children, under Josh, are sounding terrific.  These children are getting a brilliant music education and the opportunity to sing some challenging and important works at a very young age.  My own two children passed through this program years ago.  It was a very formative part of their childhoods and gave them many opportunities to be of service to our church and the wider community.  They traveled up and down the East Coast, to Canada and the United Kingdom.  They speak of their experiences in choir often and with great love.

The service moves through the story of Christ's birth until finally we come to the concluding lesson from John ... "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."  It concludes by telling us the Word was born a man and lived among us, "... full of grace and truth."  Grace and truth.  As Janet would say, this is an astounding gift.

I think I floated out of the church on a wave of goodwill and anticipation.  I felt hopeful and at peace.  My mom and I drove back to her house chatting excitedly about the service.  

And then we were struck with another lesson.  We'd barely walked through the door when my brother, home for the holidays announced that two police officers had been shot at point blank range in Brooklyn, New York.  All the joy and euphoria from having been so uplifted, so filled with grace was immediately dashed by this stark truth:  there is evil in the world and we haven't banished it yet.  Details were sketchy at that point but over the next day we learned along with everyone else that he was a man with a police record a mile long and the desire to commit a purely heinous act.  He took his own life as well so there will always be unanswered questions with only detective work and best guesses to fill in the blanks.  There are bigger questions too.  Like why he was allowed to own a gun.  Shouldn't his arrest record have precluded his purchasing a firearm?  The answer seems rather obvious to me and I wonder why it isn't to those with the power to prevent (or at least know they tried to) tragedies like this.

Such a tragic last lesson of the night and a grim reminder of the harsh reality that despite the grace and truth that came to show us all a better path through life, we continue to reject the gift every time we strike out against a fellow human being whether it is with words or weapons, each time we don't acknowledge the poverty and pain we could alleviate if we could learn to work together.  

But for me there was a saving grace ... I was able to relive much of the promise of Lessons and Carols on Christmas Eve when the age-old story was repeated once again (with more brilliant music, I might add).  Perhaps if we keep revisiting that story and other stories that point us on whatever path to truth we choose to walk, one day we'll wake up to a world like Longfellow yearned for when he wrote:

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail; the right prevail,
With peace on earth good will to men."**

~~~~~~

Christmas Lessons and Carols, December 20, 2014
St. Peter's Episcopal Church, Morristown, New Jersey

Carol:  Once In Royal David's City
Anthem:  What sweeter musick (William Bradley Roberts, Robert Herrick)
The First Lesson from Genesis in which God announces that the seed of woman shall bruise the serpent's head.
Anthem:  Adam lay ybounden (Carson Cooman)
The Second Lesson from Isaiah in which the peace that Christ will bring is foreshown.
Anthem:  Lo, how a Rose e're blooming (Dale Adelmann)
The Third Lesson from Luke in which the angel Gabriel visits the Virgin Mary.
Carol:  Ye who claim the faith of Jesus
Anthem:  Tell Out My Soul (David Hurd, Timothy Dudley Smith)
The Fourth Lesson from Luke in which Jesus is born.
Anthem:  As I walked down the road at set of sun (Michael Head, Margaret Rose)
Carol:  Silent Night
The Fifth Lesson from Luke in which the shepherds go to the manger.
Carol:  While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night
Anthem:  In the bleak mid-winter (Harold Darke, Christina Rossetti)
The Sixth Lesson from Matthew in which the wise men are led by a star.
Anthem:  A babe is born all of a may (William Mathias)
Carol:  We Three Kings
The Seventh Lesson from John in which he unfolds the great mystery of the Incarnation
Carol:  O Come, All Ye Faithful
Carol:  Hark the Herald Angels Sing


*Love Came Down At Christmas
~ Christina Rossetti, 1885

Love came down at Christmas,
Love all lovely, Love Divine,
Love was born at Christmas,
Star and Angels gave the sign.

Worship we the Godhead,
Love Incarnate, Love Divine,
Worship we our Jesus,
But wherewith for sacred sign?

Love shall be our token,
Love shall be yours and love be mine,
Love to God and all men,
Love for plea and gift and sign.

** I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
William Wadsworth Longfellow, Christmas Day 1863 

I heard the bells on Christmas Day

Their old, familiar carols play,

and wild and sweet

The words repeat

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along

The unbroken song

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,

A voice, a chime,

A chant sublime

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,

And with the sound

The carols drowned

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,

And made forlorn

The households born

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;

"For hate is strong,

And mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;

The Wrong shall fail,

The Right prevail,

With peace on earth, good-will to men."

St. Peter's Church
At the corner of South Street and Miller Road in Morristown.

Walk Journal ~ Finally

Finally! A truly beautiful day.  The thermometer in my car read 84 degrees ('way above average for this time of year) as I headed home from the tax filer's office. Having completed that odious chore for another year, I gave myself the gift of a couple of hours to get outside and walk some @CharityMiles for Nothing But Nets, a charity that provides bed nets to people living in Africa to protect against malaria-carrying mosquitos.  I braced my knee which seems to be keeping it aligned (as opposed to the crazy popping that's been happening a bit) and headed out and over the highway to the lake.  The 84 degrees felt absolutely like I was being wrapped in spring with a gentle breeze swirling all around.

I Didn't Ask You

My mother always told me "Diet quiet."  In other words, other people don't need to know your business, your struggles, your personal stuff.  And in the roller coaster decades of intermittent stabs at trying to lose weight, I think I was mostly quiet about it.  Maybe not within my family ... but pretty much everywhere else.

This time it's been a bit different.  I guess because the change was dramatic--at least at first.  Finding myself again was sort of amazing to me.  After so many false starts to finally experience success was so  ... liberating, energizing, inspiring and exciting.  At first everyone was supportive.  Those who hadn't seen me for a while were visibly surprised.  My favorite reactions were when people actually didn't recognize me.  That happened a bunch of times.  One night when I was working at church, a family I'd known well when I worked there full time was leaving their kids with me.  I was chatting away normally and finally the mom said to me "I'm sorry.  Should I know you?"  Me: "It's me -- Katherine."  Oh gosh.  She was sort of embarrassed.  She needn't have been.  It was a good moment for me.

Dinner tonight on Weight Watchers app.
(Olives are my favorite!)

So at first there was support and surprise.  Then came the questions.  "How much have you lost?" was, of course, the lead-off question followed by "How did you do it."  I answered them both.  The answer to the first one changed by the week as the number grew and grew--the number of pounds lost that is.  The answer to the second was always the same:  Weight Watchers, walking and music.  

I used Weight Watchers online and the Weight Watchers app only.  No meetings for me this time around.  That whole group thing really used to make me uncomfortable.  I only ever had one group leader that I could relate to.  The others were not very interesting or motivational.  I sat through a lot of them over the years.  But working the program for myself was my way to success this time around.  I journaled and weighed and measured every mouthful.  I was accountable.  To myself.  I weighed myself everyday (a Weight Watchers no-no--they want you to weigh only once a week).  Weighing myself every day kept me on track.  It kept me from straying.  Boy, I was so strong the first 15 months or so.  It was an almost steady decline.

The walking provided immediate results too.  It wasn't long before the diabetes basically disappeared.  I could walk longer and farther every week.  It also wasn't long before I started to crave the walks.  I know this isn't unique.  People get addicted to exercise and I think I was.  As often as possible I walked 3-5 miles in the morning and 4-8 miles at night.  A 7-mile walk felt perfect to me.  I exercised more and needed less food.  It was a revelation.  Or a revolution.  My own personal revolution.  

Another important aspect of the walks was the peace it gave me.  Sunrises and sunsets, my river and the lakes in my town, the spring, the pond ... I love them all and they give me endless lovely vistas to capture with my camera and my imagination.  I've put up with dogs, a cat that used to follow me, two skunks, and warnings of a bear ahead several times (though I never saw him).  There have been birds, ducks, geese, swans, dragonflies, frogs, a beaver and deer.  The walks are a blessing and I'm so grateful I gave myself the gift of time to do them.

The music was a huge factor.  Listening to Gavin DeGraw and the other musicians I discovered as a result of having discovered him allowed me to find the space in my head to sort through all sorts of thoughts and doubts that had been pestering me for decades.  If you've read this space once or twice before you already know that this music is very special to me and I mean it when I say it changed my life.  The live music adventures that ensued provided so much fuel for the journey.

After the questions came the comments:

"You've lost enough now."  Really?  I don't remember asking you.

"You're fine the way you are." Really?  Shouldn't I be the one who determines that?

"You can eat that [cake, cookie, burger]."  Really?  I know that.  I can eat whatever I want.  But I'm choosing not to eat that [cake, cookie, burger].

I didn't ask you.  I know you mean well.  I know you think I "need a treat."  Believe me, I treat myself--a little too often lately, actually.  From August through January my friendly scale went for a roller coaster ride and there were far more ups than downs.  I'm not sure why although the beginning of this latest ride was a bit of a professional crisis that propelled me smack into my old habits of self-medicating with food.  I think I'm back on track now.  

"You were getting too thin anyway."  Really?  This latest comment has been coming my way often these days.  People ask how the eating plan is going so I answer pretty honestly.  "I've put a few back on."  

"That's okay; you were getting too thin anyway."

I didn't ask you to weigh in on my weight.  I've politely answered all the questions.  I've been encouraging to those who share their struggles with me.  I've shared the tricks that worked for me.  My journey hasn't been a secret.  I mean ... there I was: big. Here I am: smaller.  It's noticeable.  I can't deny there was stuff going on.  

I don't mind the questions.  Ask away.  I'll talk to you forever about the struggle that has occupied the last twenty or more years of my life.  I know many people also struggle with a few or a bunch of extra pounds.  I don't mind talking about the ups and downs of the weight loss process.

But I didn't ask for your opinion about my body nor about what does or doesn't go into it.  I know you think I'm "all better now."  The truth is that a lot of the stuff that caused me to eat in the first place is alive and well in my head, just waiting for me to have a weak moment.  When you say I was getting too thin, it's like telling me I don't know what's good for me.  That I'm not capable of deciding for myself.  It's not an encouraging thing to say.  

It's a daily, hourly struggle.  To find other means of dealing with feelings, doubts, highs, lows other than with food.  It's a struggle to plan healthy meals and much easier to drive through somewhere (anywhere) for dinner.  It's not easy to walk by the concession stand in theaters, to not have a glass of wine with dinner.  For me, it's really hard to like broccoli.  (Raw, okay; cooked, please, no.)  I may never be out of the woods with this thing.  It will probably challenge me every day for ever.

But it's my body, my issues, my baggage and my decision (to eat or not, exercise or not).  I own it all--the successes and the setbacks.  I get to say what the goal is and when I've reached it.  I say when.  I say how much.  Ask me questions.  Let's compare notes.  But, please, no comments.  

PS ~ I'm still Weight Watcher-ing, walking and listening to music (lots of music and sometimes dancing) every day.

~~~~~

This song has meant a lot to me on this journey.  I was here, sitting next to the person who filmed this.  And yes, it was pouring.  And yes, we were soaked.  Gavin DeGraw, Soldier (Rye Playland, July 23, 2012, with Billy Norris, Jimmy Wallace, Ian O'Neill, James Cruz)

Positively Positive, An Apple Adventure

If anyone had told me three years ago that my iPhone would be my lifeline, I'd have said they were mistaken.  When the fellow who sold it to me was showing me all the things it could do, I told him he could skip iTunes because I'd never download any music.  No music at all.  I  wasn't even sure why I was buying it other than for the full screen.  I was tired of squinting at my Blackberry.

850 songs and thousands of pictures later ... I cannot live without my phone, my music, my camera, my lifeline to my friends.  So when it sort of stopped working the other day, I immediately made an appointment at the Apple Store to get it fixed.  I say sort of stopped working because the only thing not working is the sound.  It doesn't ring or text or tweet alert.  It doesn't play music except through earbuds.  Weird, right?

My appointment was for 10:10.  Just like any doctor's office my 10:10 appointment time was apparently meaningless as I had to wait for my "genius."  I was all primed to be a little cranky.  It's so like Apple to call their customer service area the "Genius Bar" and the people who help you the "geniuses."  The the "receptionist" for the geniuses chatted with me about my problem for a bit and determined we should back up my phone before anything was done so we got started with that.  Okay ... not so cranky now that someone was helping me.

Soon my genius, Nick, appeared and took inventory of my phone's symptoms.  He was fairly confident we could fix it after the backing up finished.  In the meantime, he had me delete as much stuff as I could.  I'm pretty lazy when it comes to my technology.  I'm also somewhat uninformed.  Anyway, I got rid of a lot of messages, some not-so-great pictures, apps that I never use.  Nick kept checking in with me as the backing up was taking a while.  (Note to self: this should be done routinely.)  We talked about music.  He's in a metal band and writes and arranges their music.  They play all over and, in fact, had a gig in Buffalo the next weekend.  Not that they're making any money.  Like most young musicians, it costs him money to perform anywhere.

He was so patient with my lack of knowledge and explained everything he was doing each step of the way.  Not that I understood much of it.  We started out by "restoring" my phone.  Then Nick showed me how to get all my music back out of the "cloud."  And he transferred all my "notes" (mostly concert notes so I didn't want to lose them) back from the "cloud."  Then we tested for sound.  Nothing.  He did something else which I can't remember and peered into the orifices of my phone with the world's smallest flashlight.  Everything checked out but still no sound.

More waiting for things to happen meant more chatting with my new friend.  He's majoring in communications at a local college and hopes to have a job one day where he can help people.  He's also working with a friend on a platform for people to share their ideas on the internet in positive ways.  He'd like people to be able to upload videos that depict hope, that give hope.  It's a lovely idea.  Imagine concentrating on the hopeful for a change instead of the crass and bizarre.

So metalhead, poet, communicator, hopeful genius.  What a captivating experience!  He was fascinating to talk to and was so willing to try every trick he knew of to fix my phone.  I was there about an hour and a half.  It seemed to go by so quickly.

Ultimately, nothing worked.  There is still no sound.  It's not a software problem so no amount of tweakage is going to fix it.  My next phone upgrade is only a month away so I can live without sound for a while (although music-less mornings are hard to get used to).

A lot of people would be frustrated at the news that something is unfixable.  But I walked out of the Apple Store in a better mood than the one I had when I arrived.  Nick is a genius--he managed to make my problem, albeit my first-world problem, a pleasant event.  And a good reminder for the new year:  keeping things real and positive will always make for a better experience and win extra points and new friends along the way.

Dear Young Ladies ... or, Katherine's First Ever (and hopefully last ever) Rant

Dear Young Ladies,

Hello concert-going girls, you young ones who were dropped off by parents who didn't care enough to come with you even if they hung out in the balcony, who trusted you to represent your families in the manner in which you had been raised, who didn't realize that you could be so rude and disrespectful.

Yes, I'm writing this to you.  You know who you are.

I'm thinking we might need to review the rules for General Admission shows:

1.  Pushing is never acceptable.  If you want to be in the front row, get there early.  Really early.  Slamming the people in front of you into the stage/barricades/speakers/whatever is kind of the same as assault.

2.  Breathing on someone's neck is just plain creepy.  And disgusting.

3.  Reading someone's cellphone over their shoulder is the same as stalking.  Stalking is illegal.

4.  Continually shoving your arms and phones/cameras into the faces of the people in front of you ruins their experience.  They stood in line just like you--but longer.  That's how they attained the front row.  Do you see how that works?

5.  Screeching is not the same as singing.  We all like to sing along.  We all do sing along.  But when you are simply yelling lyrics at the top of your lungs while barely attempting to find the tune or the rhythm, it ceases to become a musical experience and you are just making noise.  Make noise at a Bieber concert.

6.  How does screaming at the artist enhance your experience?  Did you not come to hear the artist sing?  Obviously you respect the artist enough to have bought a ticket so it appears as though you're interested in the music.  Oh wait, your parents bought your ticket so you have no actual investment in the experience.  My bad.  I'm sorry you missed much of what was truly great about the music while your deafening high pitched machinations to get the artist's attention went unnoticed by the artist as that person was engaged in doing what she or he does best.

7.  Dancing at a concert is fun.  Gyrating against the people in front of you is nasty.  And disgusting.

8. Having loud conversations during the opening acts, including unkind remarks, is mean-spirited.  Those folks are just starting out often; they're working hard to get your attention.  It wouldn't kill you to be a little more attentive.  You don't have to go and buy their records or download their songs if you don't want to.  But think about how discouraging it must be for them to watch you dissing them while they're trying their best.  Is that how you'd like to be treated?  If you'd rather talk than listen, take it to the lounge or the bar.

I sincerely hope you understand the rules better now.  Basically, we're talking about common courtesy here.  Both for your fellow concert-goers and the band that is performing.  It's really not too much to ask--that you enjoy what you came for while allowing others to do so too.  It's not a solo experience, you see.  You can have that with your iPod in your room at home.  Selfishly thinking that you can do whatever you want, whenever you want, isn't how society works best.  Considering what works best for the group that you find yourself in, makes life run a lot smoother.  When you can share experiences in common with other people, mutually enjoying the moment at hand, helping to enhance one another's good time--that's how awesome memories are made.  I feel sorry that you don't understand this.  You'll always have an incomplete experience until you do.

Sincerely,

One Who Wishes You'd Grow Up

(and I'm sure you will ... I'm positive you'll turn out to be awesome young adults who will look back on  your current behavior with embarrassment.  But it will be a life lesson learned ... one you can pass on to your own kids.)

~~~~~~~

Okay.  This is totally uncharacteristic for me.  But I decided to put it out there so I can let it go.  Off my soapbox now but totally cognizant of the fact that I'm bound to run in to these girls again or rather, girls just like them.  I wonder when "good of the order" and politeness went out the window.  

Or has it always been this way?  Am I just intolerant? Should I have to tolerate that behavior? I can recall those old newsreels of girls screaming when the Beatles landed in New York, how they played but no one could hear a note.  Even when I was a kid, I wondered about that.  Wouldn't you have wanted to actually hear them if you were lucky enough to have had that chance? 

Sending questions to the cosmos ... with no expectations.

Walk Journals ~ October 3

The seventh season begins.

It feels as though a new path is beginning.  It's the seventh season of walking.  According to my Map My Walk app, I've walked 1,375.74 in total.  Really?  Excuse me for a second; I'm taking a minute to marvel at myself.  And actually, that doesn't count the times the app malfunctioned and didn't add my miles.  Since April 2012 there's been 3 pairs of sneakers, several sizes of t-shirts and other workout wear, 4 sets of earbuds and 2 iPhone apps to help me stay motivated.

Lately, it's been a huge struggle.  First there was maybe some (self-diagnosed) sciatica and now there is some serious knee pain.  And maybe it was all tied up in my knee from the beginning.  I'm sure I should be seeing someone with an actual medical background and getting some professional diagnoses.  But I'm really afraid and reverting to doing what I used to be so good at:  avoidance behavior.  Because, if I don't find out what's really going on or wrong here, maybe it will just go away.

And there's the intellectual struggle:  I know I need to find out what's up.  For my own good and to get back on track.  So that I can get back to 7-10 miles a day as opposed to 3-5 miles once or twice a week which is all I've managed in the last month or so.  But there might be some down time when I find out ... physical therapy (which I don't have much faith in, based on absolutely no first-hand experience), scary injections or something more involved.  I've never so much as broken a bone; being "laid up" would be a totally foreign experience.  So I keep putting off calling the doctor, any doctor.

These walks have meant so much to me.  They helped me regain my health in so many ways  Physically, I'm more fit than I ever dreamed I'd ever be again and although I'm not as flexible or sculpted as when I taught aerobics (many, many moons ago), I feel great.  At least until my knee gave out, I did.  Mentally, I think I have more control of my emotions, almost never have "down" days and see most of life through a pretty positive lens now.  

I've seen bits and pieces of my town up close and have discovered a lot about what a special place it is.  The tiny lakes (there are at least five of them) and the river, the ponds and wooded trails, the spring and the old canal ... they provide an ever changing backdrop that help me think, that cause me to wonder at their natural beauty and help quiet my busy mind so I can organize my thoughts.  

I've listened to hours and hours, probably days and days, of music.  I've developed a new taste for pop music that really feeds me and fills a place that was empty for a lot of years. The walking coupled with the music (and particularly the music of Gavin DeGraw, who coincidentally dropped into my life around the same time as the walking) probably saved my life.  

My last walk was on Thursday.  It was the first time in over a week that I left work in daylight and my knee felt pretty good so I  hit the road and put in 4.5 pretty slow miles, up to the pond, around the back of the park, over the wood bridge where two folks were fishing and back into town to visit with my river.  By the time I reached home again, it was pretty apparent that I'd gone a couple miles too many.  And I paid on Friday with a lovely limp and swelling that lasted through Sunday.  Stairs were a challenge all weekend long.

Late afternoon light on an early fall afternoon.

I miss it.  I miss being out there on a daily basis, sometimes even twice a day.  I miss the energy that came from being in sunlight--whether a lot or barely a glimmer--for a couple of hours a day.   I miss how I could hop out of bed in the morning.  Lately, I've gone back to dragging myself to wakefulness.  I miss being strong enough to resist my boss's bottomless bowl of chocolate.  I'm self-medicating with chocolate several times a day these last couple of weeks.  I miss being able to say "I never have fries" with that.  I got dinner from that cute little Wendy girl tonight.  Walking increased my strength in every area of my life.  And while I have plenty of resolve first thing in the morning, it rarely lasts beyond mid-morning.

The master of excuses has resurfaced and inhabits my frame and my brain once again.  Too many deadlines by day, too many evening commitments by night.  Weekends filled with events of my own choosing (some for fun, some for community service--which is also my fun, truth to be told).  Every day crammed with "things to do" and no time left over for calling doctors, shopping for  healthy food, finding alternate ways to burn calories while figuring out the knee ailment.  

There.  I know what to do.  I just have to get out and do it. 

My river with tinges of autumn beginning.

~~

Walking "apps" I love:

Map My Walk:  Measures distance, time, pace, split time, calories burned, announces your progress at each mile, can be paused, allows you to team up with friends, save routes, gives you weekly and monthly reports.

Charity Miles:  Measures distance, time and pace, can be paused.  Unique in that miles are sponsored by generous corporate and private donors.  Before walking, choose a charity from their list and watch how your miles add up.  $.25 for each mile walked goes to the charity you've chosen.  Walk for a different worthy cause each time or stick with one and support it every time.  You're walking anyway--why not walk for good?

Playlist for a Thursday afternoon:

WPLJ 95.5 radio and ...

New music from Gavin DeGraw from the album due out next week (October 15 ... Make A Move):

Best I Ever Had

Who's Gonna Save Us (video from a performance I was at, taken by my friend; my view of the stage that night)

Concert Diaries Chapter Fourteen ~ Financing the Obsession

Tyler Hilton, January 2013

I have a problem.  I have this new hobby and it's not cheap.  Even the free concerts aren't cheap ... they're never in my backyard so usually travel is involved.  Hotels in big cities, train tickets or tanks of gas ... it's all starting to add up.  Actually, it's past adding up.  I'm now scrounging to make my adventures happen.

And scrounge I will because it's an obsessions and an addiction.  Maybe if I'd done more live music before now, "middle-agedness", this need wouldn't feel so great but I didn't and it is.  I can't explain the feeling that comes over me hearing someone that I admire a lot perform in person.  It invigorates me for days.  Really and truly.

So ... how to fund the new "hobby?"

Well, for starters I took on an extra duty at work.  In the world of education (at least around here), they're called stipend positions (coaches, advisors, etc.), extra work done after work, in addition to your regular job description.  I'm our district's new web master.  It's a decent stipend and I actually enjoy the work ... it's another creative outlet for me and I love the challenge of improving communication.  It should be pointed out, however, that I am, by no means, a master at this yet.  But I'm learning a lot every day and a day when we learn something is always a good day.  And that's one nice chunk of change for the concert jar.

One of the best and most upscale consignment stores in Northern New Jersey is right in my town.  Today I had an appointment for my first batch of clothes to consign.  They only take 20 pieces at a time so I already have a second appointment in a couple of weeks.  I have lots of professional clothes in sizes I can no longer wear (thankfully).  And I'll confess it here ... I'm selling clothes that are 2X, size 20 and 22.  I looked at the pile of them last night and could not believe that a year and a half ago, I was wearing them.  Thank goodness I'm healthy now.  And even though I've given away most of that wardrobe, I'm glad to have the opportunity to sell some and contribute to the concert jar.  And since I'm continuing to lose, there should be a few more drop-offs at the shop.

I'm thinking of ebaying.  Is that a word?  Can it be a verb?  I'm making it so.  I've been thinking of ebaying a variety of "stuff" that's hanging around the house.  Knick knacks that I've acquired while closing up my aunts' homes, duplicates and edits from the antique Girl Scout stuff collection, zillions of books.  It's all that little "stuff" that accumulates and you hang on to for really no good reason.  I shop a lot on ebay but I've never sold.  I'm not sure about doing it because I know it's a commitment.  Proper and timely shipping of sold "stuff" might prove difficult for me.  Work has been relentless lately and there are many, many days when getting to the post office would be a complete impossibility.  Although I could use those flat rate boxes ... hmmmm ... maybe I could do this.  It's worth investigating.

That's the plan for now ... it's not a lot but hopefully it will be enough.

Because there are other adventures planned.  One of them takes place tomorrow ...

~

Restyle Renew ~ consignments

Concert Diaries Chapter 13 ~ Mixfest 2013, At Which I Make My Radio Debut

Saturday, September 14.  It's MixFest 2013.  The annual free event put together for listeners of Mix 104.1 in Boston takes place this weekend every year.  It's my second time here.  It's the third visit to the MixFest stage from Gavin DeGraw.  I drove up for the concert yesterday and have met up with some special friends I've met through Twitter--yes, more friends through Twitter!  It's still astounding to me that I've done a complete social media about-face but I have and I wouldn't trade these new relationships for anything.  I mean that sincerely.  

So we're here at the Hatch Bandshell set in the Esplanade, three and a half miles of park set along the Charles River.  There are sail boats on the water and people packed in tightly from one end of the park to the other.  The bandshell is the outdoor home of the Boston Symphony and the Boston Pops hence the names of classical composers affixed to the levels of stage at the venue.  It's a beautiful setting and the day is pretty nice, more overcast and chilly than I'd thought it would be but the body heat from the crowd is making up for my lack of proper packing.

I got in line to be admitted to the park at noon.  My friends were all scattered in other lines; there were several places of admission.  I was at the corner of Arlington and Beacon Streets at the bottom of a footbridge that takes pedestrians over the busy Storrow Drive.  When we finally began to move, I saw the extraordinary security precautions the organizers and law enforcement were taking to keep everyone safe.  We were searched with wands and I had the most thorough bag check I've ever been subjected to.  In the wake of the Marathon day bombing, these are changes which were inevitable. 


I quickly find my friends near the front of the park, quite close to the stage but not front row.  We're next to the fence that separates the regular crowd from those who won VIP seats--they have chairs.  We are standing.  It's about 1:00 and we'll be standing here until the concert starts at 4:25.  After that we'll be dancing.  We pass the time catching up.  I've not seen one of these ladies in nearly a year.  Two others had come down from Boston to Yonkers a couple of weeks ago.  Two of us were together at Virginia Beach too.  We get around!  There may have also been a moment when four grown women hollered at drummer Ian O'Neill while he was out on stage during soundcheck.  It was some pretty loud yelling which attracted attention from everyone but the one whose attention was being sought.

Karen Blake is part of the weekend DJ staff and is a writer for the station.  She was out trolling the crowd for enthusiastic fans to chat with during live radio segments between the songs that are spinning at 104.1 this afternoon.  And this is how I came to make my radio debut--my three seconds of air time enthusiastically proclaiming I'd come to see Gavin DeGraw (not the Back Street Boys or Of Monsters and Men, the other two acts).  We all declare our unabashed adoration of the object of our musical affection and thank the station for the free event.  Karen hung out with for quite a long time while waiting for the cue to go live.  We chatted about the radio business and she was full of advice for my friend who dreams of a career in radio.

The station had run a contest for a local musician or group to open the show.  Alex Preston of New Hampshire was the winner.  He offered two selections that he'd written and they were pretty nice songs.  He has a good voice and I imagine if he can stick with it in this tough-to-get-ahead business, he'll have a career ahead of him.  It's not easy though, and he'll have to be pretty single-minded about chasing down his future.

Following Alex's performance, an interview that radio personality Erin O'Malley had done with Gavin backstage was aired on the jumbotron near the stage.  She's apparently a huge fan and was the first to play his first single, Follow Through, 10 years ago.  Gavin was charming as ever and Erin asked good questions that elicited hilarious answers about his recent performance in the air on a Southwest Airlines flight and singing in the shower from him.


A few more minutes of waiting, radio people thanking the sponsors, and last-minute soundchecking and then it was time.  Gavin took the stage and opened with In Love With A Girl, one of my favorites.  It's been the opening number lately and it's high energy gets the crowd in the right place for the rest of the set.  Radiation, another upbeat and truly sexy song quickly followed and we were all singing and dancing and typically enthralled.  The next song is a new one and is title of the new album (out October 15) as well.  Make a Move.  I love this and all the new material a lot.  I imagine that the new album will be my favorite.  Well, actually, I don't have a favorite record or even a favorite song.  There are records and songs for every mood and feeling I have.  Any day will find me playing one CD over and over or just one song or a playlist I've made to fit my mood.  James Cruz, the bassist, is one of the back-up singers for Make a Move.  I'm happy he's singing more this year.  He's got a fine voice and I enjoy hearing him blend with Gavin and Billy.

Gavin talks to us about the 10th anniversary this past July of his first album, Chariot and then sits at the piano to sing it for us.  It's a beautiful arrangement they're playing this year and I think to myself that his music director, Billy Norris who also plays guitar and sings back-up, has enormous talent and really good taste.  He balances the music and performances really well.  The band--Ian, Billy, James and Eric Kinney on keyboards--is as tight as ever today and each member contributes equally to the magic that is a Gavin DeGraw performance.  

We are beyond excited when Gavin announces that's he's premiering another song from the new album today for us.  It's called Everything Will Change and was utterly spellbinding--at least for me.  As I listened to the lyrics which seemed to me to be about growing up, making conscious decisions about your life and accepting that change is inevitable but how you handle it is what counts, I reached over and grabbed my friend's hand.  I've been through my share of "stuff" and I know she's been through more.  It seemed to me that he'd written that song for us.  It was a privilege to hear the first public performance.

A few more songs followed including the single available this week on iTunes, Who's Gonna Save, a beautiful song that I suspect was written with someone specific in mind.  It's another song that really speaks to something inside me and although I've probably played it nearly a hundred times this week, it sounds like the first time every time.  In fact, hearing it brings me back to the first emotional performance of it I'd heard in Virginia Beach.  There are no encores at this "Fest" and so after a rousing rendition of Not Over Year and his customary thanks, Gavin's set is over.

As we had no interest in hearing the retooled Back Street Boys who'd curiously brought out thousands of very young ladies (I thought it was curious since many of them appeared to not have been old enough for BSB the first time they were popular).  I'd never heard of the headlining act, Of Monsters and Men (or as I mistakenly kept referring to them ... Of Mice and Men ...  what can I say?  It was the literary part of my brain taking over.)  Later on, a friend whom we couldn't find in the huge crowd reported that the Back Street Boys didn't sing long and she thought the pieces Of Monsters and Men offered all sounded similar so she'd left as well.  Clearly, we think, the station had the line-up backwards ...

Crowds on Storrow Drive

We began to find our way out of the park to grab a drink and talk over the concert but it was hard.  The crowd had grown to the point where they'd had to close the park and the overflow crowd lined the other side of Storrow Drive, a major parkway on the river edge of the city.  They were on the other side of the lagoon too.  All the exits were closed so we strolled up a sidewalk hoping to find a way to cross Storrow.  We were stopped at a driveway while a large black van began to back into the busy roadway.  I said to my friends, "That's Gavin and the guys; they're leaving now."  And sure enough, it was them, making a quick getaway.  We waved and got a little excited (okay we were pretty excited) and Gavin and Ian O'Neill waved back.  We just happened to be there at the right time.  And we were the only ones there.  Probably the only ones not interested in the Back Street Boys because when we finally found our way out the State Trooper at the barricade seemed amazed we were leaving.  

Four friends relaxing at Tico (222 Berkeley Street)

Eventually we headed over the closed footbridge and made our way to, of all places, Tico, the restaurant my daughter had worked at until very recently.  It was great to sit down (really, it was about 6:00 and we'd been standing since noon) and have drinks and some food.  The talk centered on Gavin, the man, the musician, the instigator of new and rewarding friendships.  Our gratitude for our having found each other through his music and modern communication tools continues to grow within each of us.  It was another magical day spent with people I love, making memories and hearing music I love from the musician I love.

~

Everything Will Change