Proud Mama Bragging

OK, all you theater folks, be glued to your computer screen at 5 p.m. PDT tomorrow (Monday) night (8 p.m. Boston time).  Go to this web site. and watch a live broadcast of Jeri's summer high school students doing selections from Chicago.  It is part of Berklee College of Music's annual "Five Week Vocal Night," which Jeri has been helping to organize and conduct for the past 10 or so ears.  The streaming video is generally excellent.  This year Jeri's group is performing first, so there is not even any guesswork about when to tune in.

To add a bit of suspense to the evening, see if Jeri is conducting with a short baton or a long baton.  She broke her baton two days ago and is trying to find a place in Boston where she can get another (everyone tells her where to order one on line!).  Jeri says "It's supposed to be a 24 minute show, and you should get a glimpse or two of me."

---

My daughter is not only a musician, she is also a poet.  Two years ago, I gathered several of her famous "bikus" (haikus she writes in her head, to relieve the frustration, while biking round Boston and then posts on Facebook) and had them put into a book for her.

Today she outdid herself with a multi stanza baiku:

baiku, long form:
You gunned your motor,
Leaned on your horn, and sped past
Flipping me the bird

I yelled in panic.
I used some profanity.
I'm not proud of that.

 

I'm Polite Cyclist.
But the shock made me vulgar.
So what's your excuse?

The road's to be shared.
We all must work together.
Why so much anger?

We had a nice chat this afternoon.  She tries to call on Sundays, either me or Walt (she just beat Walt, who was about to call her.  Phil was barbequing heir dinner so she had some time to chat.  It sounded like except for the fresh tuna steak he was putting on a tuna shish-kebob, most of what he was cooking came from their garden.

In addition to filling me in on all the information about tomorrow's concert, she was telling me how much this concert means to the young musicians.  One went out and rented a tuba because he didn't have one and his part called for one.  Another guitarist learned how to play the banjo because he would need to do this in the show, and a brass player from Japan, who had no mutes for her instrument, contacted her mother in Japan and asked to have them sent to her.  Jeri was very proud of how seriously these kids are taking this concert and how they are going the extra mile to be sure it is perfect.

It reminds me of the awe Walt and I have always had for Acme Theater Company here in Davis.  The company is now in its 30-something year.  Jeri and Paul were founding members and performed for several years.

But the kids give up their summer every year to rehearse and perform the classics -- usually Shakespeare, but this year it was The Odyssey, a show the director assured me is very difficult, yet I felt it was one of their better productions and the youngest kid in the cast, a 14 year old who is new to the company this year, gave one of the best performances.

Theater/music kids are very special people.

---

The show we went to see on Saturday night was definitely not in the "classics" category.

It's called The Robber Bridegroom and is considered a "bluegrass fantasy" based on a 1942 Eudora Welty book.  It's about a guy who is a good guy by day and a bad guy at night--Robin Hood in the reverse, since his misdeeds are solely to benefit himself.  The cast includes brothers, one of whom is a disembodied head pushed around the stage by his brother. I never did figure out why, or what their importance to the so-called "story" was.

It's such a strange show I was amazed to discover that when it opened off Broadway, the leads were played by Kevin Kline and Patti Lupone.  It must have been a better show than Walt and I felt this one was!  But it was fun, nonetheless, with all that bluegrass kickin' music.  And the talent was excellent, which was its saving grace.

Quite different from My Fair Lady, which we had seen the night before!

Sunday Stealing

Do You Have Freckles?
No, but my son did and his daughter now has them.  Walt had them as a kid too. 
Do You Sleep With Your Closet Doors Open Or Closed?
I sleep in a room with no closet.

Can You Whistle?
Yes, but not the kind of whistle where you put your fingers in your mouth and let blow.  Mine is a softer whistle.

Did You Wake Up Cranky today?
Nope.  I was well slept and comfy and the dogs were still asleep = good awakening!

Zodiac Sign.
Aquarius

What Is Your Eye Color?
According to DMV, Hazel; according to Walt, "green with yellow flecks"

Take A Vitamin Daily?
No.  Other pills, but no vitamin.

Do You Sing In The Shower?
Never have.

What Did You Have For Lunch?
Leftover baked beans.

Do You Watch The Olympics?
Yes, but not religiously.  I like some events, not others.  In summer I try to watch diving, gymnastics and equestrian events, but often other events too.  In winter I watch the ice skating and ski jump but also like a lot of the downhill events.

Do You Prefer To Swim In A Pool Or The Ocean?
Well, the last time I swam in anything was 2009 -- 15 minutes in a hotel roof top pool in Italy.  I can't remember the last time I swam in the ocean.

Bottled Water Or Tap Water?
Bottled.  I tried to get used to the taste of Davis tap water for years and finally gave up and have been buying bottled water for about 40 years.

Do You work Better With Or Without Music?
Without.  It's weird but music really bothers me, though I can have the TV on all day.  It's not that I don't like music, I do -- it just irritates me when I'm trying to work.

Can You Curl Your Tongue?
Yes!

Is There Anything Pink Within 10 Feet Of You?"
Yes, some pink stationery and a roll of washi tape that is predominately pink.

Have You Ever Caught A Butterfly?
Yes, and now feel guilty about it.  In the summer we would catch butterflies and pin them to a board until they died, their wings flapping ineffectually.  Now I think about how the butterflies must have suffered and I feel very cruel.

Are You Easily Influenced By Other People?
About some things

Do You Have Strange Dreams?
I don't dream all that much, but every once in awhile I have weird dreams.

Do You Like Going On Airplanes?
I used to love flying, but these days with long lines, TSA problems and seats that I can barely fit in and no more meals--not even peanuts, flying is something I dread.  On one of the last flights I took we had to change planes in Frankfurt and we had to go through so many check points that I finally decided if we had to go through one more, I was going to give up and move to Frankfurt.

Name One Movie That Made You Cry.
An Affair to Remember.  I can cry if I just turn on the last 5 minutes of that movie.

Peanuts Or Sunflower Seeds?
Peanuts all the way.

If I Handed You A Concert Ticket Right Now, Who Would You Want The Performer To Be?
Jim Brochu and/or Steve Schalchlin.

Are You A Picky Eater?
I'd like to say no, but I guess I am.  I mostly like things plain and not too hot, though I'm trying to add more heat into my cooking and the sauces from Blue Apron or Home Chef have made me a fan of sauces. But I don't like to eat weird stuff.  I would NOT go out to dinner with Andrew Zimmern!

Are You A Heavy Sleeper?
Yes and no.  Once I'm asleep, you can have a party in the room where I'm sleeping and I won't wake up, but I only sleep ~3 hours at a time and then have to go back to sleep again.

Do You Fear Thunder / Lightning?
No.  I find it exciting.  (We don't get it around here much)

Do You Like Your Music Loud?
No.

Would You Rather Carve Pumpkins Or Wrap Presents?
I love wrapping presents.  I hate carving pumpkins.

What’s The Next Movie You Want To See In Theaters?
We see movies so seldom I don't even know what is playing now or what is coming up.

Been On The Computer For 5 Hours Straight?
Definitely

Do You Like Meeting New People?
Depends.  I don't dislike it, but I always feel awkward and never know what to say

What Are Three Things You Did Today?
- Wrote a review of My Fair Lady, which we saw last night
- Got depressed watching Bill Maher.
- Wrote this blog entry

What Do You Wear To Bed?
It depends.  Often the sweats I have been wearing all day, or PJ bottoms with an Obama t-shirt (I have gotten more wear out of that T-shirt, which I got free in 2008, than any other t-shirt I own, since it became part of my pjs).

Do You Wear Jeans Or Sweats More?
I haven't worn jeans in years, and wear sweats all the time.

Name Something That Relaxes You.
Television

Saturday 9

.. because Nonnie recommended the Beach Boys

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

1) In the video for this song, the Beach Boys dive into the pool with all their clothes on. Have you ever ended up in the water while fully clothed? If yes, were you pushed?
Oh yes.  It was at a family reunion years and years ago.  One of my cousins got drunk and started pushing everybody in the motel pool, all of us dressed.  Even my then 80-something aunt was pushed in.

2) In this song, Mike Love sings he wishes "every kiss could be neverending." Where did you receive your first kiss? Was it wonderful, or awkward?
Well, I dated the guy for 3 years afterwards, so it must have been wonderful at the time, but I have no memory of it.

3) Brian Wilson was the creative force behind the Beach Boys. It's possible that the group's legendary and unique sound came from an incident of bad parenting. Brian's father hit him so hard with a wooden plank that he is deaf in his right ear. Which of your senses is sharpest -- sight, hearing, smell or taste?
The older I get, the less keen my senses become.  I wear trifocals, I need hearing aids, my sense of taste has diminished considerably and I have a difficult time smelling some things.  I guess the only sharp sense I have is a sense of humor.

4) Brian's brother Dennis was the cutest member of the group, and also the only one who could surf. Have you been to the beach yet this summer?
I haven't been to the beach since I was in Nice, France scattering our friend's ashes in 2009.

5) Dennis was also the Beach Boys' most colorful member. In 1968, he struck up an unfortunate and dangerous friendship with Charles Manson. Is there anyone in your life that you worry has bad taste in friends/lovers?
Not that I can think of .

6) Lead singer Mike Love is the grumpiest Beach Boy. He refuses to perform if the concert promotional materials refer to the group or their songs as "oldies." Does it bother you to hear the songs, TV shows and movies of your youth described as "classics" or "oldies?"
Good heavens no.  The oldies are more fun for me than a lot of the current songs, TV shows and movies.

7) This song has appeared on soundtracks for movies as diverse as Shampoo (1975), The Big Chill (1983), 50 First Dates (2004) and It's Complicated (2009). Do you own any movie soundtracks?
Too many to count.  In my youth, I bought just about any soundtrack to a movie I liked (not in many years, now, though)  My soundtracks are so old they are on vinyl.

8) In 1966, the year this song was popular, the Miranda Warning became law. Without looking it up, can you recite any of the Miranda Warning?
Oh.  You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you in a court of law.  you have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford an attorney one will be provided to you ... (thanks to all those cop shows)

9) Random question: The local college is pleading for models of all ages and sizes to pose for the life drawing class. Would you help the kids by volunteering to pose in the nude?
Bwahahaha.  They are't THAT hard up for models!!!  and NO.

Hockies 'n' Stuff

We had no ready-to-cook meals left last night and it was too hot to go to the store, but then I remembered that I had some leftover mozzarella in the fridge and decided I'd make pizza. I got dough to mixing and then realized I had no tomato sauce of any kind, so I mixed canned tomatoes with balsamic vinegar and oregano and cooked that down while the dough mixed (it turned out to be delicious.  I may do that all the time from now on!).  I had made a large batch of dough and had a chunk left over, so naturally I made hockies for breakfast.

Hockies are an old family favorite, passed down by my German great-grandmother (whom I never knew).  They are just chunks of bread dough fried and served slathered with butter.  Whenever I make pizza, I always make sure there is enough dough left over for me to make hockies in the morning because Walt and I both love them...and using excess pizza dough means there isn't a lot of dough so we can't gorge on hockies.

This being Thursday, I was going to Atria so I could be sure my mother would be in her room when Jeri called.

My friend Barbara, who is a member of Citizens Who Care, had mentioned awhile ago that she would like to meet my mother, so she came with me. 

When we got to the memory unit, my mother was sitting at the far end of the hall, the other end from the part where her apartment is.  She saw me and waved when I waved.  I tried to motion her to come to meet us, but she just kept waving.  I finally walked all the way down there, introduced her to Barbara and suggested we go to her apartment.  She was walking as if in great pain and she said her whole body ached.

I offered to get a wheel chair to take her the distance to her room, but she didn't want that.  Then I offered her the use of my cane, which she wouldn't use.  But I guess walking that distance worked the kinks out because she was pretty much OK by the time we got there.

The three of us sat down and started talking.  Jeri called shortly after we got there and I was glad I had come because otherwise my mother would not have been in her room.  They had their usual nice talk, mostly about when Jeri was going to come to see her.

Jeri is so steadfast in her attempts to keep in touch with her grandmother.  It's never much of a chat but they have touched bases and whether my mother remembers it or not, she enjoys it in the moment and that is all that's important.

After she got off the phone, Barbara said she had brought her a gift.  She had a foaming soap, a chunk of soap that looked like a crystal, and some had lotion.  I don't know that my mother will ever use any of it but she was surprised and appreciative.

This was a good day, visit wise.  She was not anxious and was talkative, even if most of what she said didn't make sense.  I tried to keep the conversation on things that I know she knows, like trying to let Barbara know how many siblings she had.  

We talked about my haircut and how having it so short brought back all the curl and I was asking her which of her sisters had curly hair, which was good because it got her brain churning and she did remember, she thought, which ones had curly hair...all she really remembered (I knew this) was that she had wanted curly hair all her life (her mother had curly hair) and thought it unfair that she never got it and I did.  (I remember the days when she used to look at me every time I arrived and tell me it made her disgusted to look at me because my hair was so curly.  I finally told her how it made me feel to know that every time she looked at me it made her disgusted and she stopped doing it, but it had gone on for years).

Anyway, all things considered it turned out to be a good visit and those always send me home in a good mood.  And can any day that starts with hockies ever be a bad one?

Chrysanthemums

Chrysanthemums always remind me of my grammar school, for two reasons.

The first reason is for a spelling bee.  I remember the bee, but I don't remember if (a) I had to spell chrysanthemum and couldn't do it, or (b) someone else had to spell it and couldn't, or (c) someone did spell it correctly and won the contest because of it.

In any event, I came home determined to learn how to spell chrysanthemum in case I was ever put on the spot.  I did and to this day, I think of that spelling bee whenever I think of that flower.  (I have also never, to my knowledge, been asked to spell chrysanthemum)

There were lots of strange things that I remember about in grammar school.  I remember one nun had a contest to see who could demonstrate the proper way to eat a piece of bread.  Several of us tried it, but nobody had the right answer (break the bread in half, then in quarters, and then butter one quarter and eat that before buttering the next).  To this day, I don't think I have ever seen a single person eat a piece of bread that way.

I remember one nun who always had health class right before lunch.  "Health" consisted of telling us some horror story about something stupid some kid had done that did terrible things to him.  I can only remember two, but one was two girls who decided they wanted to lose weight and so they sent away for some pills they saw advertised (given that we were probably not much older than Brianna is now, I wonder how she came up with THAT story).

Anyway, the pills arrived and one girl took hers right away while the other one put hers on top of her dresser, deciding to take it in the morning.  In the morning when she woke up her pill had turned into a tapeworm.  Obviously that made an impression on me and I have never ordered pills through the mail from some advertisement I saw in a magazine!

The other story was about some kids who were playing under a palm tree that had drooping palm fronds and one boy kept jumping up at the tree until one of the fronds hit him on top of the head and buried itself in his skull and they could not pull it out.  (I wonder if Sister then went on to write for Rod Serling when his Twilight Zone series started!)

There was a nun who decided to teach us to dance.  I think we mostly learned how to square dance.  My best friend Judy L. was the tallest child in the class and Jerry P. was the smallest child in the class.  Sister always made them partners.  I don't know what sort of sadistic pleasure that gave her, but I have recently reconnected with Judy in the last few years and she still feels mortified remembering having to dance with Jerry 60 years ago.

We also learned a bit of Irish dancing (the order was from Ireland, though I don't remember any of our nuns speaking with an accent).  To this day I don't have a clue what the steps were, but I can hear the tune and can count...

...and a 1, 2, 3, 4 ,5 ,6, 7 .... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7  ... and a 1, 2, 3 ... 1, 2, 3

Isn't it weird the things that we remember?

But I digress.  Chrysanthemums.

Our grammar school was connected to the church, separated by a parking lot/playground (concrete area with nothing to play on).  I don't know how often the church had events that required children to participate by marching in procession, but I'm sure a lot fewer than I remember.

We would all dress in our Sunday finery (I think the girls had to wear white dresses) and meet downstairs in the church basement.  I don't know what kind of head covering we had,  but since girls always had to wear something on our heads in church in those days, I know we had something.  But we always had to carry those damn chrysanthemum bouquets.  They must have gotten a deal on them.

We would enter at the back of the church and file down both side aisles and stand in the aisles while prayers were being said.

 

As you can see it was not a particularly small church.

 

I don't really remember a lot about the services, but I remember the chrysanthemums.  They don't have a strong smell and it's not unpleasant, but it's not pleasant either.  It's just a chrysanthemum smell.  I can almost, but not quite, recreate it in my head.

But one thing I remember...it was a lot more pleasant to spell chrysanthemum than it was to carry the damn things.

Me and the Nobel Laureates

I don't remember whether it was the question or the answer, but Jeopardy had something about Nobel laureate in physics, Enrico Fermi the other night.

"Did you ever meet him?" Walt asked.

I said I had not (I found out later I was in grammar school when Fermi died)

But if anybody else had been in the room, they might have thought this an odd exchange between the two of us.  But to us, it was perfectly logical.

My high school had been primarily a business school and had only recently become a college prep school, so it didn't have the variety of classes that you find in larger schools.  I took chemistry and biology, but physics was not offered (and I wasn't very good at chemistry or biology either).

When I got to UC Berkeley, someone suggested I take Physics 10, a basic physics course taught by Nobel Laureate Owen Chamberlain.  (They told me it was an "easy A") I had actually heard of him, but knew zero about him.  Mostly I remember that he reminded me of actor Rene Aubergenois.

I hated Physics 10 and couldn't understand anything.  The only thing I remember from that class is the Doppler Effect ("The Doppler effect can be described as the effect produced by a moving source of waves in which there is an apparent upward shift in frequency for observers towards whom the source is approaching and an apparent downward shift in frequency for observers from whom the source is receding.")  The only reason I know that was because I was dating a guy, whose name I have forgotten (I think we broke up over Physics), who drummed it into my head.  To this day I can't hear an approaching train without thinking of him.  It may be the reason I didn't fail that class but I can't believe I got higher than a D.

I was relieved when the class finished. I never, ever wanted to hear of physics again.

The next year, when I decided to quit the university, I went to the employment office to see about getting a job on campus.  I was sent to three departments.  I don't remember the first, but the second was the English department and the third was the physics department.

Well, I knew immediately that there was no way I was going to work in the physics department.

But the job came with my own private office and I would mostly be working for the billing department and on the side doing some typing for three professors.  It was interesting looking them up today.  I just knew them as names.

Arthur Kip, one of the great experimental solid-state physicists, died of a heart attack at the age of 85. Starting in 1951, and with small means, he built up the first research group in the field in the Western United States. He trained many graduate students who have filled distinguished positions in American physics.

Alan Portis was the first Director of the Lawrence Hall of Science which overlooks the Lawrence Berkeley Lab and the first cyclotron ever built where EO Lawrence and Glenn Seaborg did their work. Alan was also one of the founders of the Search for Excellence in Science and Mathematics (SESAME) Group at UC Berkeley. He was both a scientist and a science educator.

Frederick Reif is an Austrian-born American physicist noted for his 1965 "Fundamentals of Statistical and Thermal Physics," which has helped at least two physicists, namely Vladimir Pokrovskii (1999) and Reiner Kummel (2011), come to understand entropy and to understand how it can be applied in economics in economic thermodynamics formulation. (I should note that the above named "Fundamentals of Statistical and Thermal Physics" was a book I typed...three times...on a non-correcting IBM selectric.  I also typed the accompanying answer book which might have had a few words in it, but was mostly a couple of hundred pages of equations)

These guys were big deals and reading about them tonight brought back a whole bunch of memories of the history of programs now established, which were just getting started when during the three years I worked there (I left just before Jeri was born).

Of the three, Fred was the guy everyone warned me against as a very gruff, very difficult to get along with professor.  All the secretaries were afraid of him, but he and I became very good friends (and today, more than 50 years later, we still are).  Kip retired a year or so after I went to work for him, and Portis started spending more and more time at the Rad Lab "on the hill," so ultimately, I became Fred's private secretary.  It was a job I loved and still my favorite job.  He even got me reading books like "The Strange Story of the Quantum," to help me understand, at least a little bit, the work he was doing.

But during my period of time working for the Physics Department, it happened that Owen Chamberlain needed some typing done and so I worked for him for awhile (I didn't remind him what a terrible student I was and how much I hated his class!)

Sometime later, I also did some typing for another Nobel laureate, Emilio Segre.  I have no memory of him, other than that I typed things for him.

So Walt's question was not as odd as it might have seemed.  Oddly enough, I did love physics once I didn't have to actually do any of it!

I Miss the Dining Room

After I left my mother yesterday, I spent a little time sitting in the little alcove opposite the main dining room and just watched people entering...and eating.  And I got a little teary, realizing how much I miss the dining room.

I used to have lunch with her once a week and while I had lots of complaints about things, in comparison to the memory unit, it was lovely.  I have only eaten in the memory unit a couple of times.  There is no choice of food.  It comes from the same dining room, but arrives luke warm.  There is no pitcher of water on the table.  You have to ask for water and the aides are usually busy, so I don't.  

And then there are the other diners.  There are only about 30 in the memory unit, so the dining room is quite small.

and you don't hear the hum of voices the way you do in the main dining room.  The first table there, on the lower right, usually is filled with four women who are far along in their dementia.  One of them keeps her head on the table until her food comes, another is gap-jawed and needs help with eating, the other two are just a lot more out of it than my mother.

When I have eaten there with my mother she spends most of  the meal asking where we are what we are waiting for, and how she is going to find her way back to her room.

I compared that to the folks in the main dining room -- people like Cameron, who is younger than I am and wheelchair bound.  She has her little clique of people around her and they always sit at the same table and have in-depth conversations about lots of things.  I think Cameron told me she was in engineering...I could be wrong....but I often thought about how interesting it would have been to sit at Cameron's table.  We often sat with Margaret, a lovely little white-haired woman with lots of physical problems, which you don't realize until she gets up to go back to her room and walks bent at sharp angle over her walker.  But she is usually is cheery and I've always enjoyed talking with her, especially since she is a Davis native and we both remember the "old days."

There are lots of other familiar faces, many of whom stopped to say hello to my mother or to tell me how special my mother is.  The long-time servers knew her and would chat briefly. There is nobody like that in the memory unit.  They are all trying to figure out where they are and what they are doing and the aides are busy helping people who can't eat unassisted. So I look for reasons not to go to Atria until after lunch.  

There was more than just missing the dining room that had me teary sitting in the little alcove.  My mother often sat there, having coffee and cookies and looking out onto the patio that she loved so much.

We would sit there and chat.  Actually chat about things. She was vague, of course, and increasingly so as her dementia progressed, but we could chat.  People would stop by to say hello.  The people who run Atria always stopped to say hello. Now I don't think they even remember her, since the memory unit is a separate facility that has little to do with the main facility.

When I arrived yesterday, she was sitting in the main room and Ellen deGeneres was on TV and my mother was sitting in a chair asleep.  When I sat down next t her and said hello she didn't open her eyes but said "I hear ya..." I said that I had just arrived and she opened eyes and looked confused.  I asked if she wanted to go to her apartment.  "What will we do there?" she asked.  I said we could visit.  I got up to get someone to open the apartment door for us.  My mother sat in her chair and kept signaling whether or not she should come with me.  She finally did.

When we got into the room she wasn't sure where she was.  We spent  the time talking about how something was wrong and how she didn't know where she was (in other words, the same thing we always talk about)

Her roommate Marge walked in at some point, picked up a bra that was lying on the floor and walked out.  I don't know if it was hers or my mother's.  I decided it didn't matter.  Marge has talked to me a few times -- she uses words, but I have never once understood what she was talking about.  She seems a very unpleasant woman.  The aides tell me that she and my mother are "great friends," which I have never seen and when she left, my mother said "I don't like her."

Finally someone came to get her for dinner.  She asked me if she was dressed all right or if she needed to get dressed up, and wondered if she needed to bring her purse and how she was going to pay for dinner.  When she learned that I was not going to stay for dinner, she was nervous because she wasn't sure she could find her way back to her room afterwards.  When we got to the dining room, I saw there was a seat at the table where Loretta was sitting and I sat her there, but Loretta's dementia is progressing too and I don't know if the two of them talked with each other.  They were both looking off into space when I left.

So the main dining room is not only something I miss for the food and the servers and the other residents, but it represents a time when my mother was more "with it" than she is now. And it makes me think how much I have changed in the past 4 years.  And that is sad too.