Uncategorized – She said What? A Blog

When I am 64…

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?…” 🎂 🍾🥂

So, each day, go Carpe that Diem of Yours.

…a Labor Day Weekend show: My tribute to what I consider the passing of a legend: Jimmy Buffett

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

An Unsuspecting Drive-By of a Hot Dog on a Sleepy Street Late One Night

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…🌭

Beautiful Things in the most Unexpected Places

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

And the 12th Night starts…

*‘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.

(*Source: http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/features/ritual-and-revelry-the-story)

She Finally Did it! She Wrote a Book!

Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye: Known by all men and women

Whereas, Angie Pittman, as finally written her book; and

Whereas, Angie Pittman after 15 years will be officially a published author; and

Whereas, she has now set up a website; and

Whereas you may follow her at: http://www.angie-pittman.com; and

Whereas, she has indeed set up social media accounts to follow; and

Whereas those links can be found on her website.

And by these presents that Angie Pittman, has entitled her book, entitled, Standing in the Light, a Memoir. Please follow.

Release Date Confirmed

October 25, 2020

To purchase your copy, click the purchase copy tab, or follow this link:

Can’t Never Did Anything;
~If you don’t try, you won’t know.
~Dad

Release Date Set

The release of Standing in the Light: A Memoir by A.D. Pittman is set to release October 25, 2020.

Available on Amazon. Stay tuned for updates.