Well, that was quick… When I first heard The Beatles song as a wee 7 year old, “When I’m 64,” I thought 64 was was old, and ancient. In my small 7 year old world, I didn’t have to worry about 64 because that was a long way away.
Then I recall hearing it again in my 20s and a similar thought, that well, I don’t need to think about 64, because that’s a long ways off, and 30s and 40s…
When I turned 50, I thought, ummm,.WOW, that’s not so old now and in reality, it really is just around the corner but hey-ho, it’s getting alot closer….and the day arrived yesterday, and it, the number 64, arrived..I’m like, damn, this thing is moving fast, and now for the last 3rd of my life going to cherish even more so the gift of another day…there about 4-5 times from my 20s even up until 59, I didn’t my know if I would make to 64…that was always my benchmark, just make it to 64, and I have…and now life is more precious…but, more determined to make each day count…so, lastly, I am going to definitely eat the cake, and yes drink a glass maybe 2 or 3 of wine.
In the meantime, join me and singing…. …When I get older, losing my hair. Many years from now, Will you still be sending me a valentine, birthday greetings, bottle of wine? If I’d been out till quarter to three, Would you lock the door? Will you still need me, will you still feed me, When I’m sixty four?…” 🎂 🍾🥂
I have been a Parrot-head for over 45 years, beginning in 1977🦜.. If you are a Buffett fan, you will understand below..I did a mesh-up of lyrics from Buffet’s songs he wrote “…I started looking for my Lost Shaker of salt after I blew out my flip-flop, then stepped on a pop top somewhere in a place called Margaritaville. Afterwards, we were driving down the avenue known as A1A, and stopped to get a Cheeseburger in Paradise. We had been looking for a Labor Day weekend Show; we took a wrong turn, and found ourselves in One Particular Harbour, while hearing someone playing, Living and dying in 3/4 time. Someone found the last Mango that came from Paris, and the other found some Juicy Fruit and a grapefruit. Kendall passed out after being drunk for over two weeks and daydreaming about Havana, and I was trying to find door number 3. Then some guy with a pencil thin mustache, and wearing a white sport coat just appeared, wagging his finger telling us, we are the people his parents warned him about. All I could think of was:…looking back in my background trying to figure out how I ever got here, something’s are still a mystery to me, while others are much too clear; I’m just living here in the sunshine staying contented most of the time, listening to Walker, Murphy and Willie sing me their Texas rhymes…got a Caribbean soul, I can barely control, and some Texas hidden in my heart…ahhh, the stories we could tell. You had to be there…”
Well, you found the party Jimmy, and come Monday, it’ll be alright….
The world is a little less brigter, but we go in looking.for that lost Shaker of salt…
Thank you for all the parties you were a part of, and never knew. Rest in Peace.
I don’t ever remember a party where someone would not, inevitably start spinning Jimmy, at some point. He always showed up on our sailboat in the early years of the 80s, via the Boom+Box. He sojourned with me to Florida, and kept me company on the drive from a bad sound system in my old Oldsmobile, but he was there.
I only have a few of the albums left, because the others were in cassette format, which I lost somewhere between Dallas and Florida. Subsequently replaced with CDs, later sole and burned into an invisible cloud of MP3s.
So, here’s to Jimmy! I think today is a good day for a Margarita. 🍸
Vestiges of a Parrot-head LP Collection Photo Credit: A D Pittman/Belle Boudreaux Collection Port Aransas, 1982Flagler Beach, FL, 1999“Dog Days in Ormand Beach, FL” 1999Ormand Beach, FL,.circa 2000Chesapeake Bay, 2004“Fins Up” Rehoboth Beach,.DE 2019Memories of a Parrot-headEnd of the Highway..A1AKey West, FLThanks for the party, Jimmy.
I have always seen weird things or sightings throughout my life. This case being no different. On the evening of this event it had been a relatively, uneventful, ordinary day in Angie-land, circa 2000. I was living in North Dallas at the time, when the weird thing happened late that evening. And no, no alcohol or mind altering drugs were used. Sober as a saint.
My friend and I had taken the dogs out walking about 11ish that night for their last relief break. When we walking our little route on this quite, sleepy little steet, long before development as it looks today, I heard it before I saw it. The imfamous, Oscar Meyer Jingle, “Oh, I wish I was an Oscar Meyer weiner, that is what I’d truly like to me. Cause if I were an Oscar Mayer Wiener, Everyone would be in love with me...”
My friend and I both stood there with our mouths agape, and about the same time we look at each other and said, “What the hell?” It literally, out of the blue drove by, like just another ordinary day..nothing to see here. Just like it happened on a regular basis.
I still shake my head with this memory. Weird shit has always happened to me..and all you can do is laugh, and I do. This event as in the top 3…just another night in Angieland, way back in the day…stay tuned for more odd events in Angieland…🌭
I came across this morning a poem with only four lines; yet speaks volumes. It is one of those poems that leaves one thinking and ruminating on it. Contemplating it, and it’s depth with just four lines.
I immediately thought of a picture I had taken while waiting in a drive-thru line in Bloomington, MN, on my way to work one summer morning. It was in the most obscure, unappealing area, surrounded with grey cement, and almost hidden directly past the price board. In all its glory stood so beautiful and all by itself, a blooming hedge in such an unexpected place. I was moved to take a photo.
An Epilogue, by John Masefield
I have seen flowers come in stony places
And kind things done by men with ugly faces,
And the gold cup won by the worst horse at the races,
So I trust, too
The take away from this: Expect beautiful things in the most unexpected places and wonderful things done by people we would least expect them from. So, we trust too.
We must take time to notice these things, for they are there if you look for them. Even in a worn cement drive thru.
Photo Credit by: A.D. Pittman, Beautiful buds in an unexpected place
Palm Sunday signals the end of Lent, a 40-day period the Christian holiday that occurs on the Sunday before Easter, and the start of Holy Week.
Palm Sunday, Jesus fulfills the prophesy of Nehemiah where in The Old Testament, he prophesied of Palm Sunday in Zecharaiah 9:9 – “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
Matthew 21:1-11
As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go to the village ahead of you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there, with her colt by her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, say that the Lord needs them, and he will send them right away.” This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet: “Say to Daughter Zion, ‘See, your king comes to you, gentle and riding on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’” The disciples went and did as Jesus had instructed them. They brought the donkey and the colt and placed their cloaks on them for Jesus to sit on. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Hosanna in the highest heaven!” When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, “Who is this?” The crowds answered, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”
Quoting The Very Reverend Robert Wallis, Dean of Canterbury in his lesson, on this Palm Sunday, “Jesus makes it clear here in Matthew, this is how He will enter Jerusalem. Luke’s gospel as the only gospel that does not reference the prophecy being fulfilled. Perhaps because he speaks to the crowds who knew nothing of the Jewish prophesy about the donkey.
Notice in Matthew as Jesus enters the city, the crowds are singing the same song in Luke, as the Angels in heaven sang to the Shepherds at the birth of the Messiah, in Bethlehem; and making them the first to go and worship in the stable. What do the Angels sing it the birth: they sing, Glory to God in the highest heaven, and upon earth peace and good will.
Here in Matthew, as the disciples approach the city of Jerusalem, with Jesus riding on the donkey shouting, Blessed is the King that comes in the game if the Lord. Peace in heaven and glory in the highest. The crowd is actually singing the song of the Angels.
As Jesus enters the city, he weeps where signs of conflict and war are already apparent. One cannot help, but think of the present in the last month, weeks, and days of the weeping done of a city with carnage and death in their streets and violence all around them in Ukraine.” (Citation: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t8dKLmg1wxU)
The palm branch is known to represent goodness, peace and victory, symbolic of the final victory He would soon fulfill over sin and death.
‘Christmas. The Wassail Bowl’ by Thomas Hollis after R.W. Buss. The wassail bowl is the centrepiece of this 1851 engraving of merriment and revelry
Epiphany begins tonight at sunset, as the 12 day of Christmas ends. So, what better way to ring in Epiphany than with the Robert Herrick poem, the 12th Night. The sun has just set, so lets get the cake ready…
The following pen was written by Robert Herrick, a clergyman of the Church of England. After England’s civil war, Herrick was displaced or rather kicked out of his living quarters because the worship of the Church of England; and the customs of the country-side, including the celebration of Twelfth Night had been abolished because of the Civil War. Any celebrations therein, were made criminal. Inasmuch, because shops were not allowed to open, riots ensued, referred to as The Plum Pudding riots.
Herrick lived until 1674. He was restored to his ministry in 1660. Knowing, the return of King Charles II and things would be restored, he penned the celebratory poem, Twelfth Night.
TWELFTH NIGHT : OR, KING AND QUEEN. by Robert Herrick NOW, now the mirth comes With the cake full of plums,
Where bean’s the king of the sport here ; Beside we must know, The pea also Must revel, as queen, in the court here. Begin then to choose, This night as ye use,
Who shall for the present delight here, Be a king by the lot, And who shall not Be Twelfth-day queen for the night here. Which known, let us make Joy-sops with the cake ;
And let not a man then be seen here, Who unurg’d will not drink To the base from the brink A health to the king and queen here. Next crown a bowl full With gentle lamb's wool :
Add sugar, nutmeg, and ginger, With store of ale too ; And thus ye must do To make the wassail a swinger. Give then to the king And queen wassailing :
And though with ale ye be whet here, Yet part from hence As free from offence As when ye innocent met here.
*Wassailing historically occurred on the twelfth and final night of Christmas. Wassailing is a Twelfth Night tradition that has been practiced in Britain for centuries. It has its roots in a pagan custom of visiting orchards to sing to the trees and spirits in the hope of ensuring a good harvest the following season.
It was one of those kind of days, where everything I touched something happened. I had just gotten off work, and was already mentally exhausted from the day. So, on way home, I stopped by convenience store to get some water. Pulled in the parking lot, not paying attention, get out of the car, and hurriedly walking to the door. I had worn a dark pantsuit that day suit, and still was wearing dark sunglasses when I got out. In the meantime, I did notice as I was in a hurry for not particular reason other than to get home, a Concrete truck by where I had parked. There were no cones in front of store, so go in. I opened the door and walked right in, and then felt the strangest sensation: I took a step and sank, then another step and sank..not realizing wet cement and was standing in it covering my ankles. I uttered Oh shit, as my sunglasses fly off whilst attempting to maintain my balance. I hear a collective gasp..clerk says you are not supposed to come in that door, as I am ankle deep in wet cement. All I could say was “really,” where are the cones?
I said, “Uh, do you have some paper towels? “Oh yes ma’am, and made no attempt to hand me amy. I replied, tersely, “Well, may I have some? Grabbed them, then stepped out, then back and landed left foot in the other side of the newly poured, not cordoned off cement. Truly, something out of a comedy routine. Finally, I manage to get outside with said paper towels look at the construction guy who just finished, and said, “I just ruined your work.” He is now cussing, and I am.
I now laugh at the mental pic..yes, another day in the life of Angie..its ok to laugh, I am..yes, shoes are ruined. Just a other day in Angieland.
I visited this church in Alexandria, VA, a few years back when I first returned to DC from Minneapolis. It was around this same time of year. It was a summer schedule unbeknownst to me at the time, and was locked when I got there. I knocked on the solid wood, heavy door, waiting for it to be opened. As I stood at the door, the verse, ” Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me,” came to my mind. Right before someone opened it and unlocked it, I pondered that and recalled another time in 1999, after a 15 year hiatus of not attending church. As I sat in the pew that day I showed up after 15 years, with the sunlight reflecting off the stained glass window, and as Communion began, I heard that still small voice say, “Come unto me and I will come unto you.” That was when I began a new walk with Christ and my life has never been the same. I was reminded of this memory, this morning about that door and me standing there knocking on it for someone to open it, and remembered and reflected.
Rule #56 Associate yourself with men of good quality if you esteem your own reputation; for ’tis better to be alone than in bad company. (Choose your friends wisely.)
Manners. Etiquette. Grace. All combined have a penumbra of virtue known respect for others. Where have these basic qualities gone. Parents not instilling in their children the universal respect. We now have 2 generations of it, beginning with the end of the boomers, mine. I began noticing it about 10 years ago with Facebook. In the last 10 years, I have watched people’s respect dwindle, hiding behind the screen of anonymity. Inasmuch, people and lack of respect for one another has leaped from behind the screen protection to complete abandonment in public, no matter where it seems anymore. All bets are off, whether an office, or store, restaurant. It is time to return to a notion of civility and respect for one another.
I was brought up to offer a seat to someone older if there were none available no matter where the setting, but especially in a public situation, such as public transportation. I was of the generation that when someone entered a room, you stood up. I am not talking of a return to Victorian England, I am talking of being respectful. There once was a time where etiquette mattered. There were books written on it by the “experts.” The first I know of was Emily Post’s book, “Etiquette”, published in 1922; or “Amy Vanderbilt’s Complete Book of Etiquette;” or Leticia Baldridge, former Social Secretary to Jacqueline Kennedy during her role as First Lady, with her book, “New Complete Guide to Executive Manners, published in 1993. Manners and grace matter. That is not gone out of style. It is time we usher it back in.
In fact, because that wonderful demographic known as “millennials,” corporations and government agencies are now having to offer classes on manners, disguised as other words, like, “mindfulness” and the such. This should have been taught in the home. Sadly, it wasn’t and now we have basically 2 generations of people unversed in the subject of manners. There’s a quote attributed to Emily Post that says the following: “Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter what fork you use.”
I will begin this series of Civility and Respect towards one another by starting with me. While I was looking up information in the form of “manners,” “etiquette”, and “civility,” in addition to the above references, the first I noted was something penned 289 years ago by none other than George Washington when he was around 14 years old, “Rules of Civility & Decent Behavior in Company and Conversation”. The foundation built on a set of rules composed by French Jesuits in the 16th century.
So, as of this writing, I shall for the next few weeks or months, make at least a weekly post on one of Washington’s Rules of Civility and Decent Behavior in Company and Conversation.” Change starts with you and me as it relates in the realm of teaching respect for one another.
I happened to visit George Washington’s boyhood home, at Ferry Farm, near Fredericksburg, Virginia. Throughout the walking trail, there are several bill boards placed strategically, reminding the public of one the rules of civility. I took a few pictures. This one being today’s kick off to today’s mindfulness lesson in respect and civility.
The picture above, I took because it made me think of an addage my mother always told me when it came to my friends, “Anga, choose your friends wisely. You are known by the company you keep.” I did heed her advice on this, one of the few I did (buy my book, Standing in the Light: A Memoir by Angela Pittman, available on Amazon in Kindle or Paperback. Click the tab in menu “buy the book here) [Hey, it is my book blog page, so gotta plug it where I can.] {insert smiley}). 🙂 I think we all need to be reminded of this. Yes, we are known by the company we keep, and character does matter. You may quote me on that.
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