Grandkids: Granddaughter: Abba Call

I know this phase will pass, and that in the meantime it is hard on my daughter, but… when my granddaughter either doesn’t feel like getting dressed, eating, or calming down, one pretty much guaranteed solution is a video call with Abba (me, grandfather). She doesn’t usually have much to say; just wants to see me. Still, when we are together in person, she stays on my lap for about 15 seconds or so.


Finishing Up My Birthday

Yesterday was the fifth and final night of the Paul’s Birthday Celebration. It lasts five days to commemorate the time my 16-year-old mom spent in the un-air-conditioned Providence  Hospital between the breaking of her water and my arrival.

The last night was celebrated with the dish Duck/Chicken with Cherries, which combines my two favorite foods. My five-year-old grandson helped make it, and is being introduced to the traditions, including blowing out the candles (again) and reading my life lessons.


Not Really A Love Song

Bumps on the Road to Paradise is not a love song; it’s a “what it took to get to love” song.

I’m not a Swiftie (although I’ve been there, done that (concert film) and bought the tee-shirt (ok, sweat shirt). See below.

Swift writes about her exes. So, when Clark Smith said, “After all these love songs, you need to write a song about your journey to get here,” I took him up on it and wrote Bumps

The title isn’t really fair to my exes, in the sense that they were much more than bumps; they were intense and vital loves, until they weren’t.

And, while Swift is obviously still angry at hers (“You look like my next mistake”) I have, after effort, consideration and an open heart chakra, gotten over any anger and ill will. “I am every woman I have ever loved, all rolled into one.” (thank you Martin Mull).

Each love story followed a different course; this song is the Cliff’s Notes version of them. As with the Swift songs, some of you will know who all three of them are, and others will just have to guess.

Ps_swift


A Few Regrets 1

As Frank Sinatra once sang, “Regrets I’ve had a few/Too few to mention.” I have almost none. There were some regrets at the time, but in retrospect, I am batting .999.

I almost regret skipping nearly all my classes at MIT, but I ended up with a degree, and a happy life as a writer/journalist/D-list TV personality. I don’t regret it because, had I gone to class, I might be a miserable scientist or engineer.

Actually, I do have one regret. I was reading a list of 23 regrets at age 60. One resonated: “Not forgiving sooner.”

I come from grudge holders on both sides of my family. Estrangements that lasted for decades, usually until death, and so it was that I held intense grudges… bordering on hatred… for people I thought had done me wrong. The bitterness lasted for decades. Fortunately, I had a spiritual awakening that allowed me to let go of all that dark matter in my heart.

Clearly, some grudges are justified because they involve unforgivable acts. The problem I have with that now is that there are almost no unforgivable acts. And of course, hatred is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. A grudge or an estrangement, held long enough, can curdle into hatred.
continued next week…


This and That

Help With The Election
Wisconsin Voter Protection, the 21st century version of phone banking, which you can do from home.

Good Polling
If you haven’t seen 538’s Monte Carlo Simulation of the election results, have a look. Here’s their analysis of their performance

Hope vs. Cynicism
A moving talk about the way hope can triumph over cynicism. Very apt at present.

Life Lessons
After  last week’s 72 Life Lessons, Clark Smith spotted five minutes of Matthew McConaughey on the same subject. He says knowing what we are not helps us find what we are.

Fact-checking Hollywood
I have been saying for years there should be a website covering “based on a true story” movies, separating fact from fiction. Imagine my surprise. History Vs. Hollywood.

What’s Important

“You taught me that believing in what you know is as important as knowing what you believe.”
-- the late Kevin Fisher-Paulson, SF Chronicle (successor to Charles McCabe and Jon Carroll)


Humor: Gardening Help

An old Italian gentleman wanted to plant his annual tomato garden. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son:

“Dear Vincent, I am pretty sad because it looks like I won't be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days. Love, Papa.”

A few days later, he received a letter from his son.

“Dear Papa, Don't dig up that garden! That's where the bodies are buried. Love, Vinnie”

At 4 am, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left. That same day, the old man received another letter from this son:

“Dear Papa, Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do under the circumstances. Love you, Vinnie”