Thursday, August 31, 2006

The Naming

As LifeonHold mentioned in her comments, it's about time "he" got some kind of name. Actually this topic had already been discussed amongst the Blog reading Tuna clan, as well as several other top-level advisors. Applying a "Top Level" Tuna name may be inviting karmic disaster. Suggestions such as WIPTuna (Work-in-Progress Tuna) implies that the name would have to be changed again down the line. And besides, aren't we all works in progress? I threw out Tuna-in-Training because acronymishly speaking, that one just won't do. He can't be The Boy, because The Boy is The Boy and we can't have two The Boys. The INC (Internet Naming Committee) hemmed and hawed while we drank another Mikes, which is ridiculous (the hemming and hawing, not the Miking) because he doesn't read this anyway, so it really just needs to be something I like.

His name is Scout.

Why? Because that's what the executive committee has been calling him for quite sometime anyway. Now if I could figure out how many years of Doodle's college tuition I would have to pay for KatJam to put a bandana on one of these Tunas I'd be all set, because Lord knows, I'm graphically challenged.

In other news, TinyTuna returned today from her many travels. For the entire month of August, TinyTuna was away from home for 21 out of 31 days. That's pretty unbelievable for someone who is only twelve years old. She had a fabulous time out East, grew another several inches, and her self confidence exploded, which is quite something considering she wasn't exactly lacking in that department before she left. Overall, this kid had one incredible summer.

As she was unpacking and giving me grief about Scout, she swooned towards the heavens, gave a melodramatic sigh and said, "Ahhhhh.....Young Love....."

Then she looked at me, practically made a MPF (mince pie face) and said, "Well maybe not so much. It's more like OLD Love."

I wonder if the East Coast will take her back again.

The Naming

As LifeonHold mentioned in her comments, it's about time "he" got some kind of name. Actually this topic had already been discussed amongst the Blog reading Tuna clan, as well as several other top-level advisors. Applying a "Top Level" Tuna name may be inviting karmic disaster. Suggestions such as WIPTuna (Work-in-Progress Tuna) implies that the name would have to be changed again down the line. And besides, aren't we all works in progress? I threw out Tuna-in-Training because acronymishly speaking, that one just won't do. He can't be The Boy, because The Boy is The Boy and we can't have two The Boys. The INC (Internet Naming Committee) hemmed and hawed while we drank another Mikes, which is ridiculous (the hemming and hawing, not the Miking) because he doesn't read this anyway, so it really just needs to be something I like.

His name is Scout.

Why? Because that's what the executive committee has been calling him for quite sometime anyway. Now if I could figure out how many years of Doodle's college tuition I would have to pay for KatJam to put a bandana on one of these Tunas I'd be all set, because Lord knows, I'm graphically challenged.

In other news, TinyTuna returned today from her many travels. For the entire month of August, TinyTuna was away from home for 21 out of 31 days. That's pretty unbelievable for someone who is only twelve years old. She had a fabulous time out East, grew another several inches, and her self confidence exploded, which is quite something considering she wasn't exactly lacking in that department before she left. Overall, this kid had one incredible summer.

As she was unpacking and giving me grief about Scout, she swooned towards the heavens, gave a melodramatic sigh and said, "Ahhhhh.....Young Love....."

Then she looked at me, practically made a MPF (mince pie face) and said, "Well maybe not so much. It's more like OLD Love."

I wonder if the East Coast will take her back again.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Level Check

One of the required activities that seems to come with new relationships is facing the Inquisition of friends and family. He handled the friends amazingly well during Tunapalooza, and I thought we were in the clear for awhile. But no. Today TinyTuna called me up for the 20th time today (with not much to say) and decided it was time to get the latest scoop on my personal life. With all seriousness and great drama that a 12-year old can muster, she cut right to the chase as if she were Dr. Phil.

"So Mom ... (grand pause) ... How are things going?"

I smiled and said, "Well, things are going just fine. I'm so glad you asked. Everything is great."

After heaving a dramatic sigh, she said, "Oh, I'm SO glad!"

I started to wince because I wasn't sure where this whole line of questioning was going. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, I hoped to wrap up and shut down the topic by repeating, "Well, I'm so glad too."

The shoe came screaming for my head.

"I have to tell you something," she said. (UH OH) "If you want, it's ok with me if you TAKE IT TO THE NEXT LEVEL."

I covered my eyes and started to shake my head. What was THIS? My brain searched for some sort of answer that might bridge the gap between a grown up phrase and a middle schooler's mindset.

The best I could come up with was Super Mario Brothers. Hoping for the best and still teasing her a bit I said, "And what exactly would THAT be? Level 2?"

She was not phased by my sarcasm and she said, "I'm not saying the TOP level. But not the BOTTOM level either."

"Oh," I said. "So you mean the MIDDLE level?"

"Yeah," she said, still very seriously. That's good."

"Um....ok," I said. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

When it comes to affairs of the heart, TinyTuna's bluntness used to be a lot funnier when it was directed at someone else. In the meantime, I still really have no idea what she really meant. I'm just hoping that the middle level doesn't mean I have to be that annoying Princess Peach chick. If there's one thing I do NOT do, it's wear pink and squeak. On ANY level. Ever.

Level Check

One of the required activities that seems to come with new relationships is facing the Inquisition of friends and family. He handled the friends amazingly well during Tunapalooza, and I thought we were in the clear for awhile. But no. Today TinyTuna called me up for the 20th time today (with not much to say) and decided it was time to get the latest scoop on my personal life. With all seriousness and great drama that a 12-year old can muster, she cut right to the chase as if she were Dr. Phil.

"So Mom ... (grand pause) ... How are things going?"

I smiled and said, "Well, things are going just fine. I'm so glad you asked. Everything is great."

After heaving a dramatic sigh, she said, "Oh, I'm SO glad!"

I started to wince because I wasn't sure where this whole line of questioning was going. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, I hoped to wrap up and shut down the topic by repeating, "Well, I'm so glad too."

The shoe came screaming for my head.

"I have to tell you something," she said. (UH OH) "If you want, it's ok with me if you TAKE IT TO THE NEXT LEVEL."

I covered my eyes and started to shake my head. What was THIS? My brain searched for some sort of answer that might bridge the gap between a grown up phrase and a middle schooler's mindset.

The best I could come up with was Super Mario Brothers. Hoping for the best and still teasing her a bit I said, "And what exactly would THAT be? Level 2?"

She was not phased by my sarcasm and she said, "I'm not saying the TOP level. But not the BOTTOM level either."

"Oh," I said. "So you mean the MIDDLE level?"

"Yeah," she said, still very seriously. That's good."

"Um....ok," I said. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

When it comes to affairs of the heart, TinyTuna's bluntness used to be a lot funnier when it was directed at someone else. In the meantime, I still really have no idea what she really meant. I'm just hoping that the middle level doesn't mean I have to be that annoying Princess Peach chick. If there's one thing I do NOT do, it's wear pink and squeak. On ANY level. Ever.

False Alarm

There is nothing worse than having your super human alarm system wake you from a dead sleep in the middle of the night because the cat is having a hairball ... get her off the carpet now! Even though you're still half-asleep, you leap out of bed with superhuman speed hoping to find and relocate the offending feline in time, only to discover it's not having a hairball, it's playing with a roll of film.

Stupid cat.
Stupid me.

False Alarm

There is nothing worse than having your super human alarm system wake you from a dead sleep in the middle of the night because the cat is having a hairball ... get her off the carpet now! Even though you're still half-asleep, you leap out of bed with superhuman speed hoping to find and relocate the offending feline in time, only to discover it's not having a hairball, it's playing with a roll of film.

Stupid cat.
Stupid me.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. Visit :: Company

2. Cake :: Or Death

3. Period :: The End

4. Triumphant :: Victorious

5. Screen :: Movie

6. Neglect :: Ignore

7. Guitar :: Air

8. Loathe :: Despise

9. Sugar :: Sweet

10. Montage :: Endless Oscar filler



In my own defense, I thought of about four different answers for cake (and the one true answer is actually No Cake...PIE!), but I'm a big fan of Eddie Izzard the whole Cake or Death? skit. As a professional musician, I'm a bit embarrassed that the first thing I thought of was air guitar, but that's the breaks on a Sunday morning. Give me a couple hours and a Diet Coke, and I'm sure I'll be coming up with more appropriate answers like Segovia or acoustic or Fender. As for neverending Oscar montage, yes, they are annoying, but they do provide the opportunity to run and fetch a new beer and post live blogging updates without missing any of the action.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. Visit :: Company

2. Cake :: Or Death

3. Period :: The End

4. Triumphant :: Victorious

5. Screen :: Movie

6. Neglect :: Ignore

7. Guitar :: Air

8. Loathe :: Despise

9. Sugar :: Sweet

10. Montage :: Endless Oscar filler



In my own defense, I thought of about four different answers for cake (and the one true answer is actually No Cake...PIE!), but I'm a big fan of Eddie Izzard the whole Cake or Death? skit. As a professional musician, I'm a bit embarrassed that the first thing I thought of was air guitar, but that's the breaks on a Sunday morning. Give me a couple hours and a Diet Coke, and I'm sure I'll be coming up with more appropriate answers like Segovia or acoustic or Fender. As for neverending Oscar montage, yes, they are annoying, but they do provide the opportunity to run and fetch a new beer and post live blogging updates without missing any of the action.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Take a Message

They say the art of the hand written letter is becoming lost, in large part due to the electronic world. I can't say if that's true or not, but if one were to judge the life force of letter-writing by my actions, let's just say we'd all be sharing sentimental stories of long-ago while nibbling finger sandwiches at the wake right about now.

It's not that I don't have anything to say, or that I don't like to write. But putting pen to paper means each word and phrase must be carefully considered, because once it's there, you're stuck with it. There is no ability to cut, paste, spell-check or delete without having to crumple up the whole thing and start over again. And let's face it: after two or three or twelve attempts, the whole notion of writing a letter becomes a lot less romantic and a lot more pain in the ass. Even nostalgia has its limits.

I'm so very grateful for my various electronic gadgets when it comes to communication. With TinyTuna gone this week, she has relied on every device she can put her hands on to keep in touch. We sent her off with GramTuna's cell phone, and ever since her plane took off, she has became one with Cingular's heavenly host. She often doesn't have anything particularly profound to say, but knowing TinyTuna, because she has possession of a cell phone (albeit temporary, because despite her constant haranguing, mean mom won't let her have one of her own) she's going to take every advantage of the opportunity.

Despite her many calls and messages, I can't say that I blame her. Everyone wants to feel connected, and to be able to send a quick I love you email, text message or instant message when you have a spare minute or two can make all the difference. The medium may be fast moving, but the sentiment isn't any less lasting.

Don't get me wrong; despite my love for all things electronic, I'm still a big fan of the notion of putting pen to paper. And although I'm certain that I would dissolve into a puddle of girlie tears if I got a hand-written letter, I wouldn't be any happier than I was tonight when I got a very unexpected text message on my phone that said, Hi, guess who has a cellphone again!

It was only seven words -- not terribly profound -- but it said so much. And when you think about it, the hows of a message makes no difference at all. What really matters is that it does arrive. Because everyone wants to feel connected.

Take a Message

They say the art of the hand written letter is becoming lost, in large part due to the electronic world. I can't say if that's true or not, but if one were to judge the life force of letter-writing by my actions, let's just say we'd all be sharing sentimental stories of long-ago while nibbling finger sandwiches at the wake right about now.

It's not that I don't have anything to say, or that I don't like to write. But putting pen to paper means each word and phrase must be carefully considered, because once it's there, you're stuck with it. There is no ability to cut, paste, spell-check or delete without having to crumple up the whole thing and start over again. And let's face it: after two or three or twelve attempts, the whole notion of writing a letter becomes a lot less romantic and a lot more pain in the ass. Even nostalgia has its limits.

I'm so very grateful for my various electronic gadgets when it comes to communication. With TinyTuna gone this week, she has relied on every device she can put her hands on to keep in touch. We sent her off with GramTuna's cell phone, and ever since her plane took off, she has became one with Cingular's heavenly host. She often doesn't have anything particularly profound to say, but knowing TinyTuna, because she has possession of a cell phone (albeit temporary, because despite her constant haranguing, mean mom won't let her have one of her own) she's going to take every advantage of the opportunity.

Despite her many calls and messages, I can't say that I blame her. Everyone wants to feel connected, and to be able to send a quick I love you email, text message or instant message when you have a spare minute or two can make all the difference. The medium may be fast moving, but the sentiment isn't any less lasting.

Don't get me wrong; despite my love for all things electronic, I'm still a big fan of the notion of putting pen to paper. And although I'm certain that I would dissolve into a puddle of girlie tears if I got a hand-written letter, I wouldn't be any happier than I was tonight when I got a very unexpected text message on my phone that said, Hi, guess who has a cellphone again!

It was only seven words -- not terribly profound -- but it said so much. And when you think about it, the hows of a message makes no difference at all. What really matters is that it does arrive. Because everyone wants to feel connected.

Friday, August 25, 2006

Friday's Feast

It's Friday's Feast ... Breakfast Edition!

Appetizer: If you could have a free subscription to any magazine, which one would you like to have?
I would like to have a free subscription to the magazine that replaces the bazillion SUBSCRIBE cards (you know, the annoying things that that fall all over your bathroom floor while you're trying to read multitask) with hundred dollar bills. Those, I'd pick up.

Soup: Describe your living room (furnishings, colors, etc.)
This answer can be found in any standard Roget's Thesaurus. See: Dingy, Cluttered and Rectangular. The color of the carpet is needs removal immediately, the color of the walls is dingy February slush, and the painted inset in the ceiling defies description in polite company. Come by sometime and I'll tell you what I really think. The furnishings include a dozen or so toy mice which are Lord knows where, the free 32-inch Toshiba, and two cats, one of which is always in my chair.

Salad: What does the shape of a circle remind you of?
Something round?

Main Course: Name Three Things in Life that you consider to be absolute necessities:
Vowels, Bowels and Towels. (Seriously. Think about it. I did)

Dessert: What was the last really funny movie you watched?
Well, the last movie I saw was Wordplay, and yes I'll admit it, for a documentary film on the New York Times annual crossword puzzle championship, I was cracking up. These were my people, and the four of us in the back row were compulsively trying to solve the puzzles as they were being shown in the film. The movie I saw before that was Cars, and there were some funny bits, especially in the fake outtakes at the end. I'd be hard-pressed to think of a funnier movie than Waiting for Guffman, because no matter how many times I watch it, I still laugh like an idiot. Everybody DANCE!

Friday's Feast

It's Friday's Feast ... Breakfast Edition!

Appetizer: If you could have a free subscription to any magazine, which one would you like to have?
I would like to have a free subscription to the magazine that replaces the bazillion SUBSCRIBE cards (you know, the annoying things that that fall all over your bathroom floor while you're trying to read multitask) with hundred dollar bills. Those, I'd pick up.

Soup: Describe your living room (furnishings, colors, etc.)
This answer can be found in any standard Roget's Thesaurus. See: Dingy, Cluttered and Rectangular. The color of the carpet is needs removal immediately, the color of the walls is dingy February slush, and the painted inset in the ceiling defies description in polite company. Come by sometime and I'll tell you what I really think. The furnishings include a dozen or so toy mice which are Lord knows where, the free 32-inch Toshiba, and two cats, one of which is always in my chair.

Salad: What does the shape of a circle remind you of?
Something round?

Main Course: Name Three Things in Life that you consider to be absolute necessities:
Vowels, Bowels and Towels. (Seriously. Think about it. I did)

Dessert: What was the last really funny movie you watched?
Well, the last movie I saw was Wordplay, and yes I'll admit it, for a documentary film on the New York Times annual crossword puzzle championship, I was cracking up. These were my people, and the four of us in the back row were compulsively trying to solve the puzzles as they were being shown in the film. The movie I saw before that was Cars, and there were some funny bits, especially in the fake outtakes at the end. I'd be hard-pressed to think of a funnier movie than Waiting for Guffman, because no matter how many times I watch it, I still laugh like an idiot. Everybody DANCE!

Thursday, August 24, 2006

The Last Throes of Summer

TinyTuna is off on her third and final excursion of the summer. She is spending some time with the East Coast contingent, and by all reports, is having the time of her life. I just hope she doesn't get too used to it, because I'm afraid she'll come home wanting an Oompah-Loompah (and wanting it NOW) and then how will I ever get her to scrub the floors, cook the meals and sweep the ashes out of the fireplace ever, ever again*?

Despite the big smile
This kid is really nervous.
And the horse? Asleep.


TinyTuna says
her horse is a calico.
That's one leggy cat.


She's no Liz Taylor,
But could do a film remake:
National Glue Stick.


The road less traveled.
Uncle and TinyTuna.
Lone Ranger. Tonto.


Filling these big boys
Is a very tall order
when you're not yet two.


Gee, I wonder what
GreenTuna is doing now?
Oh yeah, she's at WORK!


Chillin' at the pool.
There's no better way to spend
a hot summer day.



*Lucky for TinyTuna, I don't actually have a fireplace.
But it's the thought that counts.

The Last Throes of Summer

TinyTuna is off on her third and final excursion of the summer. She is spending some time with the East Coast contingent, and by all reports, is having the time of her life. I just hope she doesn't get too used to it, because I'm afraid she'll come home wanting an Oompah-Loompah (and wanting it NOW) and then how will I ever get her to scrub the floors, cook the meals and sweep the ashes out of the fireplace ever, ever again*?

Despite the big smile
This kid is really nervous.
And the horse? Asleep.


TinyTuna says
her horse is a calico.
That's one leggy cat.


She's no Liz Taylor,
But could do a film remake:
National Glue Stick.


The road less traveled.
Uncle and TinyTuna.
Lone Ranger. Tonto.


Filling these big boys
Is a very tall order
when you're not yet two.


Gee, I wonder what
GreenTuna is doing now?
Oh yeah, she's at WORK!


Chillin' at the pool.
There's no better way to spend
a hot summer day.



*Lucky for TinyTuna, I don't actually have a fireplace.
But it's the thought that counts.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Answers

Last summer the Tuna basement found itself ankle-deep in water not once but twice within the span of seven days. At the time, and for many weeks to come, we were faced with the job of hauling an enormous quantity of stuff out of the basement. Some things were salvaged, but most of it got pitched. It was easy to figure out what had to go. If you couldn't see the damage with your eyes, you most certainly could smell it a mile away.

As we were sorting through mountains of junk, we found it increasingly easy and even satisfying to throw things away. Our zeal for cleaning house was enabled by the dumpster in the driveway, meaning that purging would require no midnight runs or a theme song. Looking back on it now, it was a job that we never saw coming and had no choice but to undertake, but in the end, we were all the better for having done it.

This summer, thankfully, has been flood-free. The basement is dry and all my belongings are intact. But looking back over the last three months, I would have never guessed back in June that more changes were around the corner.

June saw the end of sixth grade for TinyTuna. It was a year of great transitions for her. New school. New school district. It was a gamble, but one that paid off in ways I would have never imagined. She thrived. She found kids like herself -- funny, smart, and in love with music and art and books and life. As soon as school ended, we climbed into the car and dashed off to visit the ocean and decompress. The weather was beautiful and my time at the ocean was especially gratifying and peaceful this year. I didn't really know why. I just knew it to be true.

July saw TinyTuna leave home for a week to travel with her church youth group to Tennessee. Her week was filled with service work in the Cherokee National Forest. She had never been away from home that long, and I wasn't sure she was ready for this trip. True to form, she proved she was more than ready, and although she was tired and sunburned, she returned home a different person. She just seemed more grown up. More thoughtful. More responsible. I didn't know exactly how at the time. I just knew it to be true.

As for me, July was the month of the yellow shirt and Tunapalooza. It was great music, best friends, and tasty Mike's Hard Lemonade under the stars. It was more than that, too. It was a first date on Monday. It was getting drenched on a Tuesday and not caring one bit. It was impatiently for Wednesday night to arrive. It was facing the tough but caring inquisition of friends as a happy, confident, unified front on Thursday. The entire week was a whirlwind, and at the end of it, I wasn't sad because I knew it was just the beginning. I don't know how I knew, but in the midst of all the excitement, there was an overwhelming sense of peace and calm, and I just knew it to be true.

August began as a month filled with problems, illness and difficulties. Suddenly, instead of dancing under the stars, I found myself doing whatever I could to help a former spouse and his current family. It was a task I never saw coming, and had no choice but to undertake, but in the end, I unloaded a heap of negative thoughts and we all came out on the other side more understanding of each other and cognizant of what is really important in life. I don't know how we did it, I just knew it to be true.

Since that time, TinyTuna has resumed her summer away from home. She spent ten days at music camp with no phone and no access to home. When we finally heard from her one week later and read her postcard that said, "camp rocks and everybody here is my friend," we knew she was alright. At the end of her session we all went up to hear her perform. And by all, I mean all -- a new boyfriend, a former spouse and his family, GramTuna and myself. The day was overwhelming. The weather was as sunny as it had been in June at the beach. The music was as beautiful as it had been in July under the stars. And everybody...everybody was ok with everybody else. I don't know how. I don't know why. But I was there, and it was true.

I know I haven't written much lately. Over the past several months, my life and the life of my family has changed so quickly, I haven't had any chance to step back and distill my thoughts into anything coherent. The bigger reason though, is I think I keep looking for an explanation for everything. I want to be able to explain the tranquility of the ocean in June, the magic of the music in July and the calm of hearts healed in August. If I could explain it, then I could always have it. But I can't explain it. The best thing I can do is to be aware of the gifts that surround me. And when I look back over the summer, and sit next to that someone special and feel a hand in mine, I know I'm living a life blessed, and that is answer enough.

Answers

Last summer the Tuna basement found itself ankle-deep in water not once but twice within the span of seven days. At the time, and for many weeks to come, we were faced with the job of hauling an enormous quantity of stuff out of the basement. Some things were salvaged, but most of it got pitched. It was easy to figure out what had to go. If you couldn't see the damage with your eyes, you most certainly could smell it a mile away.

As we were sorting through mountains of junk, we found it increasingly easy and even satisfying to throw things away. Our zeal for cleaning house was enabled by the dumpster in the driveway, meaning that purging would require no midnight runs or a theme song. Looking back on it now, it was a job that we never saw coming and had no choice but to undertake, but in the end, we were all the better for having done it.

This summer, thankfully, has been flood-free. The basement is dry and all my belongings are intact. But looking back over the last three months, I would have never guessed back in June that more changes were around the corner.

June saw the end of sixth grade for TinyTuna. It was a year of great transitions for her. New school. New school district. It was a gamble, but one that paid off in ways I would have never imagined. She thrived. She found kids like herself -- funny, smart, and in love with music and art and books and life. As soon as school ended, we climbed into the car and dashed off to visit the ocean and decompress. The weather was beautiful and my time at the ocean was especially gratifying and peaceful this year. I didn't really know why. I just knew it to be true.

July saw TinyTuna leave home for a week to travel with her church youth group to Tennessee. Her week was filled with service work in the Cherokee National Forest. She had never been away from home that long, and I wasn't sure she was ready for this trip. True to form, she proved she was more than ready, and although she was tired and sunburned, she returned home a different person. She just seemed more grown up. More thoughtful. More responsible. I didn't know exactly how at the time. I just knew it to be true.

As for me, July was the month of the yellow shirt and Tunapalooza. It was great music, best friends, and tasty Mike's Hard Lemonade under the stars. It was more than that, too. It was a first date on Monday. It was getting drenched on a Tuesday and not caring one bit. It was impatiently for Wednesday night to arrive. It was facing the tough but caring inquisition of friends as a happy, confident, unified front on Thursday. The entire week was a whirlwind, and at the end of it, I wasn't sad because I knew it was just the beginning. I don't know how I knew, but in the midst of all the excitement, there was an overwhelming sense of peace and calm, and I just knew it to be true.

August began as a month filled with problems, illness and difficulties. Suddenly, instead of dancing under the stars, I found myself doing whatever I could to help a former spouse and his current family. It was a task I never saw coming, and had no choice but to undertake, but in the end, I unloaded a heap of negative thoughts and we all came out on the other side more understanding of each other and cognizant of what is really important in life. I don't know how we did it, I just knew it to be true.

Since that time, TinyTuna has resumed her summer away from home. She spent ten days at music camp with no phone and no access to home. When we finally heard from her one week later and read her postcard that said, "camp rocks and everybody here is my friend," we knew she was alright. At the end of her session we all went up to hear her perform. And by all, I mean all -- a new boyfriend, a former spouse and his family, GramTuna and myself. The day was overwhelming. The weather was as sunny as it had been in June at the beach. The music was as beautiful as it had been in July under the stars. And everybody...everybody was ok with everybody else. I don't know how. I don't know why. But I was there, and it was true.

I know I haven't written much lately. Over the past several months, my life and the life of my family has changed so quickly, I haven't had any chance to step back and distill my thoughts into anything coherent. The bigger reason though, is I think I keep looking for an explanation for everything. I want to be able to explain the tranquility of the ocean in June, the magic of the music in July and the calm of hearts healed in August. If I could explain it, then I could always have it. But I can't explain it. The best thing I can do is to be aware of the gifts that surround me. And when I look back over the summer, and sit next to that someone special and feel a hand in mine, I know I'm living a life blessed, and that is answer enough.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Is This Thing Still On?

It's been a bit busy around these parts, so as a Tuna flavored apology, I thought I would share with you the best-song-in-the-whole-wide-world discovery for today:

What Can You Get a Wookie for Christmas
(When He Already Owns a Comb?)

Thanks to composer and lyricist Maury Yeston who not only answered one of life's great imponderable etiquette questions, but did so in rhyme and in the key of G major.


Is This Thing Still On?

It's been a bit busy around these parts, so as a Tuna flavored apology, I thought I would share with you the best-song-in-the-whole-wide-world discovery for today:

What Can You Get a Wookie for Christmas
(When He Already Owns a Comb?)

Thanks to composer and lyricist Maury Yeston who not only answered one of life's great imponderable etiquette questions, but did so in rhyme and in the key of G major.


Friday, August 04, 2006

Friday's Feast

It's the I'm-so-bored-at-work-I'm-going-into-a-coma version of Friday's Feast. Sit down and help yourself to a large plate of QWERTY....

Appetizer: Name an actor or actress you think is totally underappreciated.
Hands down, TinyTuna. There is no bigger MEL in MELODRAMA than this kid. She can turn on the charm, or the evil, or the funny or the angst faster than anyone I know, and with pinpoint precision. Sadly for her, I am immune to her fits and swoons, and she has to practice her craft those more gullible than I.


Soup: Impress us by using a big word in a sentence.
"Those who have to rely on all things sesquipedalian to impress others most likely have a Napoleonic complex, small shoe sizes and drive Hummers.


Salad: What is something inanimate that you've given a name to (such as a pet rock)?
...we're sorry to interrupt this Friday's Feast. GreenTuna read this question and fell into a fit of hysterics as she thought of inappropriate answer after inappropriate answer. Since she is a mother of an impressionable TinyTuna, it wouldn't be prudent to dump all these anvil-like witticisms into The Internets, because it would clog the tubes and then Senator Ted Stevens (R-AL) wouldn't receive his Internets until next week, because the Internet is not a truck.

Ok, Ok, I'll answer: Fred, Ginger and Malva.


Main Course: What color would best represent your personality and why?
Green of course.
With a Yellow Shirt.
Why?
Why not?


Dessert: Fill in the blanks: ____________ is so ____________.
There are lots of things that are so wonderfully and deliciously so.....
The fun is finding them for yourself.
Now, go outside and play.

Friday's Feast

It's the I'm-so-bored-at-work-I'm-going-into-a-coma version of Friday's Feast. Sit down and help yourself to a large plate of QWERTY....

Appetizer: Name an actor or actress you think is totally underappreciated.
Hands down, TinyTuna. There is no bigger MEL in MELODRAMA than this kid. She can turn on the charm, or the evil, or the funny or the angst faster than anyone I know, and with pinpoint precision. Sadly for her, I am immune to her fits and swoons, and she has to practice her craft those more gullible than I.


Soup: Impress us by using a big word in a sentence.
"Those who have to rely on all things sesquipedalian to impress others most likely have a Napoleonic complex, small shoe sizes and drive Hummers.


Salad: What is something inanimate that you've given a name to (such as a pet rock)?
...we're sorry to interrupt this Friday's Feast. GreenTuna read this question and fell into a fit of hysterics as she thought of inappropriate answer after inappropriate answer. Since she is a mother of an impressionable TinyTuna, it wouldn't be prudent to dump all these anvil-like witticisms into The Internets, because it would clog the tubes and then Senator Ted Stevens (R-AL) wouldn't receive his Internets until next week, because the Internet is not a truck.

Ok, Ok, I'll answer: Fred, Ginger and Malva.


Main Course: What color would best represent your personality and why?
Green of course.
With a Yellow Shirt.
Why?
Why not?


Dessert: Fill in the blanks: ____________ is so ____________.
There are lots of things that are so wonderfully and deliciously so.....
The fun is finding them for yourself.
Now, go outside and play.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

TunaU Sightings

TunaU continues to be abuzz with things to see. Some notables:

Waldo
This morning the big blue heron was back in the river cooling his heels and looking regal. I have since named him "Waldo" as in "Where's" since I'm always looking for him and he likes to hide.

On My Honor, They are Trying
The Boy Scouts are still here in full force, and the local media seems to have nothing better to do than talk about the Hot Scouts. Not hot as in ooo baby baby hot. Hot as in warm. Hot as in the poor babies have no air-conditioning in their dorms and gosh, it's only the middle of summer and why exactly are we surprised it's hot? Honestly, if I hear one more "be prepared" speech, I'm going to punch somebody right in the merit badge.

By the way, in the past three days I've seen more adults smooshed into too-small scouting uniforms than I would ever care to see. Beer guts stuffed into brown and orange is not a pretty combination.

Fallen Soldiers
How I wish I had a camera yesterday. As we walked back from lunch, sitting out in the mid-day sun were a pair of brown and orange socks. Grubby and steaming on the sidewalk, they were inside-out and wadded in a ball, as if they just couldn't take it anymore more and took it upon themselves to escape their owner's feet, and then just ran away to die. Can't say I blamed them.

TunaU Sightings

TunaU continues to be abuzz with things to see. Some notables:

Waldo
This morning the big blue heron was back in the river cooling his heels and looking regal. I have since named him "Waldo" as in "Where's" since I'm always looking for him and he likes to hide.

On My Honor, They are Trying
The Boy Scouts are still here in full force, and the local media seems to have nothing better to do than talk about the Hot Scouts. Not hot as in ooo baby baby hot. Hot as in warm. Hot as in the poor babies have no air-conditioning in their dorms and gosh, it's only the middle of summer and why exactly are we surprised it's hot? Honestly, if I hear one more "be prepared" speech, I'm going to punch somebody right in the merit badge.

By the way, in the past three days I've seen more adults smooshed into too-small scouting uniforms than I would ever care to see. Beer guts stuffed into brown and orange is not a pretty combination.

Fallen Soldiers
How I wish I had a camera yesterday. As we walked back from lunch, sitting out in the mid-day sun were a pair of brown and orange socks. Grubby and steaming on the sidewalk, they were inside-out and wadded in a ball, as if they just couldn't take it anymore more and took it upon themselves to escape their owner's feet, and then just ran away to die. Can't say I blamed them.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

A Gathering of Spirits

This past weekend Tuna Clan joined forces with PeaceTuna, climbed into the Peacemobile (very nice) and drove to Flint, Michigan for an afternoon folk music concert. Now, for those of you unfamiliar with the mitten and its many stereotypes, Flint has a rather negative reputation. It's known for empty factories and staggering unemployment. Flint is the place you drive past so you can get to someplace else nicer. As we parked the car and walked around an enormous green space full of trees, rolling hills, walking trails and a little river, I found myself having to revise my opinion. Why didn't I know this was here before?

The concert was an all-day event featuring several different artists. We had traveled to hear Carrie Newcomer, a favorite of Peace Tuna. The singers performed in a covered pavilion, and whereas it would cost $10 to park your butt on a folding chair inside the pavilion, it was free to bring your own chair (still featuring beach sand) and sit outside on the lawn. We picked option B.

We got there early and were able to grab a shady spot under the trees and had a fantastic picnic. After a lunch of chicken, shrimp, various salads and munchies we sat back and enjoyed our incredibly good fortune. Sometimes we chatted, and sometimes we just sat back in our chairs and closed our eyes, marveling at our good fortune and thankful for the breezes that kept us cool on a very hot summer day.

When the first singer began his set, we looked at each other and began to evaluate our location. The shade was fabulous, but we really couldn't hear very well. We decided to reevaluate in an hour when Carrie was scheduled to play. In the meantime, there were cookies to eat.

An hour later Carrie began her set. We instantly knew we were too far away and quickly threw the picnic remains in the car and moved our chairs closer. Since it was Satan's Sunny Saturday (666 degrees) shade was still critically important. We moved our chairs to the left of the pavilion under some trees, but we still couldn't hear. We finally abandoned the chairs and stood right outside the pavilion, hugging what little shade was left. With a couple of speakers nearby we could now hear perfectly.

Her voice was deep and warm, and wrapped around you like a comfy blanket. All she had was a guitar, but it was a worthy partner whether the song was a gentle ballad or rocked out in a Southern country-blues-gospel kind of way.

I stood next to the cool white stones of the pavilion with my head resting on top of the wall, just tall enough to peer over and watch. Even from a distance it was obvious that she was entirely invested in every song she sang. I've seen so many performers and sung in so many performances myself over the years, it's painfully clear when someone is phoning it in. Not today. She sang with the heart of someone who sings because that's what you do. You don't sing for money. You don't sing for fame. You sing for three people as happily and with as much passion as you would for three thousand. You sing because that's what you were meant to do.

And the songs -- the lyrics, especially -- were unbelievable. It was as if someone crawled inside my life and pulled out experience after experience. (Go here to hear several of these in their entirety. I know! Unheard of!). Betty's Diner was a song about the many people who gather at a local greasy spoon, all surviving life the best they can as they live their own hurts and hopes. Geodes talked about rocks that cover the Southern Indiana landscape. Ordinary and non-descript on the outside, they contain spectacular crystalline treasures inside. Don't Push Send was a very cute song about the perils of email. Three Women was about the quiet strength of women as they gather to tend to others, or to themselves. I'll Go Too told how sometimes when we are the most afraid to face life's difficulties -- be it monsters under the bed, or saying goodbye to a loved one -- having someone offer to walk with you makes the journey a little easier.

For an hour I was absolutely transfixed. When it was over all I could think was Why have I never heard of this woman? With ten albums and a career that started over twenty years ago, where have I been?

My entire summer has been like this. In the past several months I've discovered treasures that have been around for years -- some of them right in front of my face. Maybe I should feel cheated. Or stupid. Or indignant. Maybe I should, but I can't. I feel lucky. I feel awake. I feel blessed. It's a yellow shirt kind of life.

Live your life like it don't get much better.
Walk right in like you own this joint.
Get right down to the heart of the matter.
Live straight to the point.

(Straight to the Point - Carrie Newcomer, 2001)


Thanks, PeaceTuna.



You know you want one.

A Gathering of Spirits

This past weekend Tuna Clan joined forces with PeaceTuna, climbed into the Peacemobile (very nice) and drove to Flint, Michigan for an afternoon folk music concert. Now, for those of you unfamiliar with the mitten and its many stereotypes, Flint has a rather negative reputation. It's known for empty factories and staggering unemployment. Flint is the place you drive past so you can get to someplace else nicer. As we parked the car and walked around an enormous green space full of trees, rolling hills, walking trails and a little river, I found myself having to revise my opinion. Why didn't I know this was here before?

The concert was an all-day event featuring several different artists. We had traveled to hear Carrie Newcomer, a favorite of Peace Tuna. The singers performed in a covered pavilion, and whereas it would cost $10 to park your butt on a folding chair inside the pavilion, it was free to bring your own chair (still featuring beach sand) and sit outside on the lawn. We picked option B.

We got there early and were able to grab a shady spot under the trees and had a fantastic picnic. After a lunch of chicken, shrimp, various salads and munchies we sat back and enjoyed our incredibly good fortune. Sometimes we chatted, and sometimes we just sat back in our chairs and closed our eyes, marveling at our good fortune and thankful for the breezes that kept us cool on a very hot summer day.

When the first singer began his set, we looked at each other and began to evaluate our location. The shade was fabulous, but we really couldn't hear very well. We decided to reevaluate in an hour when Carrie was scheduled to play. In the meantime, there were cookies to eat.

An hour later Carrie began her set. We instantly knew we were too far away and quickly threw the picnic remains in the car and moved our chairs closer. Since it was Satan's Sunny Saturday (666 degrees) shade was still critically important. We moved our chairs to the left of the pavilion under some trees, but we still couldn't hear. We finally abandoned the chairs and stood right outside the pavilion, hugging what little shade was left. With a couple of speakers nearby we could now hear perfectly.

Her voice was deep and warm, and wrapped around you like a comfy blanket. All she had was a guitar, but it was a worthy partner whether the song was a gentle ballad or rocked out in a Southern country-blues-gospel kind of way.

I stood next to the cool white stones of the pavilion with my head resting on top of the wall, just tall enough to peer over and watch. Even from a distance it was obvious that she was entirely invested in every song she sang. I've seen so many performers and sung in so many performances myself over the years, it's painfully clear when someone is phoning it in. Not today. She sang with the heart of someone who sings because that's what you do. You don't sing for money. You don't sing for fame. You sing for three people as happily and with as much passion as you would for three thousand. You sing because that's what you were meant to do.

And the songs -- the lyrics, especially -- were unbelievable. It was as if someone crawled inside my life and pulled out experience after experience. (Go here to hear several of these in their entirety. I know! Unheard of!). Betty's Diner was a song about the many people who gather at a local greasy spoon, all surviving life the best they can as they live their own hurts and hopes. Geodes talked about rocks that cover the Southern Indiana landscape. Ordinary and non-descript on the outside, they contain spectacular crystalline treasures inside. Don't Push Send was a very cute song about the perils of email. Three Women was about the quiet strength of women as they gather to tend to others, or to themselves. I'll Go Too told how sometimes when we are the most afraid to face life's difficulties -- be it monsters under the bed, or saying goodbye to a loved one -- having someone offer to walk with you makes the journey a little easier.

For an hour I was absolutely transfixed. When it was over all I could think was Why have I never heard of this woman? With ten albums and a career that started over twenty years ago, where have I been?

My entire summer has been like this. In the past several months I've discovered treasures that have been around for years -- some of them right in front of my face. Maybe I should feel cheated. Or stupid. Or indignant. Maybe I should, but I can't. I feel lucky. I feel awake. I feel blessed. It's a yellow shirt kind of life.

Live your life like it don't get much better.
Walk right in like you own this joint.
Get right down to the heart of the matter.
Live straight to the point.

(Straight to the Point - Carrie Newcomer, 2001)


Thanks, PeaceTuna.



You know you want one.