Saturday, September 30, 2006


Leaving Paradise

I became slightly depressed knowing that the holiday was about to end. The familiar yet mundane life I left behind called me home. The creeping acceptance of the inevitable. The bittersweet. The realization that I actually did leave all my cares behind. For seven blissful days not once did I think about work nor my daughters situation! And on the evening of the last day aboard ship, I sat on the deck on the 11th floor,  the weight of what I left behind settled on my shoulder and watched the sunset in the stormy sky leaning on me.

On a ship, you are never alone for long. Behind me I heard the shrill and bossy voice of an eight year old girl. That tone is known to mothers all over the world. This bossy woman-child sashayed to the rail and looked towards the setting sun. She turned and ignoring me, concentrated her remark behind me, "No! No! You stay right there!"

Around the corner of the laid out sun chairs, with a the canister of soda pressed to her tiny breast, came the two year old. She wore a simple pink empire line dress with a ruffle on the hem and around the sleeveless arm holes. Her hair was so short, and so wispy, the fairy hair of the very young. On the island , she must have had beads braided along the top. On her tiny feet were girly-girl pink sandals.

She stumbled and staggered in that run/walk normally associated with drunks and two year olds.

She stood along side her sister and got tippy toed.

She pointed!

"I see a dolphin", she cried out.

Her older and much more sophisticated sister rolled her eyes and informed her..."You can't see a dolphin! It's too dark"

Her mother appeared from the right and in a soft murmur told her youngest daughter that the dolphins were sleeping.

Little Pink handed her mom the soda container. Turning towards the sea and grabbing the rail she puffed out her chest and began calling loudly, at the top of her lungs.......


It was my very favorite moment of the trip.

Sadness took a dive. He sleeps with the dolphins.

Sunday, September 17, 2006


A Foggy Morning

I awoke yesterday morning to the most dense fog I have ever seen. It engulfed everything and did not lift until well after 11am!

It beckoned me to walk along the River Green Trail with my camera. And what wonderful pictures awaited me.

Jeweled Dew Dripping Spider Webs.

Spooky Abandoned Train Station

The Endless Trail in the beginning of her Fall glory

The the sun was able to climb over the all encompassing wet gray mist and all was right with the world again.

Friday, September 15, 2006

You can't always get what you want

The Stones are playing Churchill Downs in Louisville on September 29th.

Now I have seen the Stones plenty of times over the years. The last time being 1989. 17 years ago! It was outdoors, at the UofL football stadium...maybe.

I remember that it took a long time to realize what songs they were playing.

Unlike their SOME GIRLS tour, which was fabulous.

It is unfair to think that something has happened to the Stones.

Something has happened to me.

Steel Wheels was the last Stones album I purchased, if you don't count the SOME GIRLS album with the original cover  I  found (at the flea market, natch) and gave to my Brother-in-Law. Somewhere I read they printed only 100,000 of this particular cover before they were forced to stop because of the copywrite infringement laws.

I knew he would love it. Appreciate it.

(Why do I remember a different album cover for Beggars Banquet than I see now? Am I loosing it in my old age?)

In a moment of pure delusion, I checked out the prices for the show in Louisville.

Oh My God.

For a mere $150 I can get a ticket...but I'm not promised a view. How bizarre!!

For $2500 I can have it all. And Alice Cooper.

Naturally I went on a quick hunt for my 1981 ticket. Left hand stage. I could have spit and hit the stage.

Inflation is outrageous.

Thursday, September 7, 2006


When I headed downtown for my day in court, to plead my case as to why I was not guilty of running a red light,...I cut the time a little too close, very close and it was made even more hair raising when I realized I did not know where to go.

I virtually ran to the court house. Upon arrival I joined a large mass of people. All looking solemn, very concerned, and quite angry. My type of people.  I got at the back of a line, every one was so quiet and giving off incredible strained vibes, I couldn't help myself and blurted out, "Is this the line for traffic court?"  Those around me nodded yes and I held out my ticket, "Anyone get pulled over for that trap at Coldwater & Coliseum?". They erupted like a volcano!  Everyone had a story. A truck driver with a heavy load of recyclable, a lady with a grand baby in the back seat, crazy drivers who cut in too close, rear ending horrors. Non-sympathetic and heartless cops. Anger and frustration ruled this crowd.

Good! I'm glad I was not the only one offended that I was called a law breaker. Such  a lie!  I was pushed through that intersection! If I had braked, like everyone around me, I would have been rear ended.

The court room was a zoo. Albeit , a well behaved and respectful, very quiet zoo. The Zoo Keeper was a Super-sized bailiff. He was terrific. In a before life he must have been a traffic cop. The hand language was exquisite pantomime. The exaggerated wrist flick  meant "Get away from the door". The "bring it to me" finger fluttering could only mean, "Get your butts to the front". The explicit finger pointing interpreted as, "Stand behind the rail!"

And the sweet gentle gesture of bringing one finger to his lips silenced us all. One look into the crowd would catch the eye of the offender and stop him dead with the of most menacing of glares. He could pick anyone out of the mass, catch their attention and control them with one glance. Every man who entered the back door with a hat on his head was immediately aware of the death ray glare thrown his way across the room. Hats were immediately swept off the head.

He was poetry in motion.

What is up with traffic court? Why did we have public intoxication convicts wearing those orange suits usually associated with the University of Tennessee? I'm here to tell you, one of those guys was HOT. Long wavy hair, a left over from the hippie days, Woodstock. Or maybe a biker. He was beautiful.

We also had in our presence the man who streaked the Bob Dylan concert. Which was held at the minor league ball park last night. I made up the streaking part. I was not there but I would like to think that people still streak to get attention...and to get arrested.

Cocaine possession with intent, persistent felons who did not appear in court and where finally apprehended and forced to appear, women inmates along with the men, not certain what they did, but was told where some of them worked, (strip club!) The judge and the prosecuting attorney had the annoying habit of referring to everything as case number XXXXXXXXXXX053 with a CDS secret code attached and house detention. Juicy stuff that we were only given a teaser.

Everything moved swiftly, if losing three hours of your life is swift. People came and went, entered and stood, found seats of those who were called, babies were banished, interpreters were found for those who did not speak English, husbands stood at the podium for their wives who were out in the lobby with the baby and could not speak the language anyway, only Arabic. Some only Spanish. And then there was the guy who told the judge that he slurred. "Maybe a stint with the CDS would help that slur" the judge told him. The inmates went first. Lawyers and clients went next. Unfinished business was resolved. Some remanded.

Then it was my turn.


When I was asked what I wanted to state, well I stated...."I protest..."

Court Date (jury trial!!!!!????) (only a fool defends a fool????) this February.

Oh wow. Five months to draw diagram's, plan a defense, and .........

Search the internet to find out if that guy really did streak the concert last night.