The Music Left Behind

It is not a good idea to go on an extended RV trip and discover that the only songs left on one’s dying laptop are 1) Close Up the Honkeytonks, 2) Yesterday’s Wine, 3) Whiskey Lullaby, and 4)Angels We Have Heard On High. (You know what else is aggravating? Having Word 2003 tell you that honkeytonk is two words! Gimme a break!)

Given the limited repertoire it means that we have listened to Whiskey Lullaby about 17 times in 36 hours. That plus the heavy rain and cold is contributing to a group wrist-slashing atmosphere. Dang—but that is one of the most depressing songs to ever come out of Mama, God and Country music. If we had internet access we could download a few more upbeat songs—like “Murder’s Been Committed Down on Music Row.”

At the next big city—which will be Quartzsite, Arizona—we might need to score some band width and download a little more varied selection of songs.

Quartzsite is the Mecca for RVers. You can't believe it--you have to experience it. Last week as it concluded the annual RV Fair and Gathering, the estimate was that about one million RVers passed through a town that has 2 stop lights and one real house.
 

We woke up this morning to sunlight and the sparkling blue water of Lake Havasu. We were suffering from the "No Room at The Inn" Syndrome when we pulled into Cat Tail Cove in the dark and pouring rain. The RV was so cozy and we had enough solar to run our lights. But other than that, we were dry camping in a parking lot.
 
 
 

As we cruised down Highway 95 in Arizona along the Colorado River we were once again reminded how thirsty California is. It's not as much fun being a Californian as it used to be. We've pretty much blown all our street cred and seem to be looking for more ways to self-destruct ASAP. We saw many self-haul trucks towing small cars and they were all heading just one way--out of California.
 

Now, as I peel yet one more orange from the RV park in Bakersfield I can't seem to get those words out of my head--She put him out, like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette......We have got to get another song!!!

Who Wrote the Book of Love?

Hey! I’ve got a great idea—let’s get out of this Sonoma County damp cold fog and go to Tucson and play some golf and catch some rays in the desert! It sounded good—but so far we have had cold rain and even snow. Yesterday felt like a Country Western song—hunkered down in Bakersfield in the trailer park waitin’ for the roads to clear to get out over the pass. Called up the pizza man and had ourselves some beer. Picked oranges off the trees and let the dogs run in the mud. No matter how we called it, we were still eatin’ crud. Or words to that effect.

Tonight we’re in the overflow camping area outside of Lake Havasu City. It’s called dry camping but the rain is still banging on the RV. No internet. There has to be a blog story in here somewhere—I’ll let you know when I find it.

Prepare to enter free-fall blogging:  beginning RV trip, photos of weather and desert, and recounting the beginning of a Boomers group.

Meanwhile, back in SeniorLand the organization of Baby Boomers continues. While it has felt much like moving back home with the parents when we moved to a 55+ community, I suspect that to the “more seasoned” residents it has felt much too much like the kids moving back in with them! That being said it appears that Boomers have not outgrown  liking to drink, eat munchies and listen to Rock and Roll.

Our first meeting had 84 Boomers show up—I was stunned. I was also glad I'd decided against holding the gathering in our living room. It felt like returning to college after summer vacation—the gang’s all here so let’s get down, be groovey—have a Happening! How nice it was to slip into the lingo of the 60ies and not have to see if you’ve embarrassed your kids by your lapse. When “The Book of Love” came over the sound system there was a discernable pause in the room when it reached that historical stomp—“Oh I wonder, wonder,(booboop bahbooboo boo----STOMP! Who wrote the Book of Love?” It’s been a long time since there’s been someone other than Mr. T to help with that stomp.

Continuing with the stream-of-consciousness ramblings I will just barely mention golf. Enough said. I’m still terrible enough that I can’t take it seriously or agonize over all the bad shots—after all, they’re almost all bad shots. It will sometimes strike me as hilarious that I’m trying to knock a little white ball that I gathered from my backyard into a ridiculously small hole on a patch of closely-mown grass and that this somehow constitutes an accomplishment.

I will not mention being mocked by a golfer I didn’t even know for wearing a pink outfit, pink hat, pink windbreaker and playing with a neon pink golf ball. Some people just don’t appreciate a sense of style, of flair. I suppose I should invest in those awful spandex black pants with stripes down the side and a black stretchy top. Can we say BOR—ING???? I will continue to wear bright colors, push my “crime scene tape” yellow golf cart carrying my shiny blue golf clubs and bag and wear my rosy pink hat with the bling. They should be thankful it’s not tie-dyed.

News from SeniorLand

I am remiss in blogging. Despite 2 manuals and a mentor I remain a slow learner with the new camera. Few photos, fewer words. To compound matters, I got the Photoshop CS5 upgrade--again 2 manuals weighing more than a large sack of potatoes and me with a learning curve that is a straight line--no curve. So the few photos that are even worth posting I manage to botch up in the "digital darkroom"--which is cool talk for messing up your photos on your computer rather than just taking a bad picture to start with. However, I got a very cool photographer's vest for Christmas so I look much more competent than I actually am.

There has been another factor--I lost my sense of humor. That's never really happened before. Not losing it just for a day or two--it's been lost for months. Only those who have gone through a lengthy period of dealing with a much-loved mother as she has slipped into a different personality know the pain of the loss. After a year of declining mental abilities and increasing risk to herself, we had to force her into an Assisted Living facility. Of course she didn't want to go--who would? But after she took a nasty fall on a curb and hit her head on a bus bench we knew the living alone jig was up. Until you've been publicly interrogated in a bank lobby by firemen who ask you if you're the one who hit your mother and cut her forehead, asked if you've lost your temper and physically abused her and then hear them asking her the same questions, I'm not sure you really know embarrassment.

In any event, it seems the drama has decreased and adjustments are made all around and perhaps the sense of humor will return. In fact, I know it has. How can one not laugh when in ONE WEEK I met a golf coach named Sparrow and an antique dealer named Winterhawk??? Oh yes, I am still in California! Sparrow seems very nice and actually had some  useful hints about hitting the golf ball. I'm envious of his ponytail but then, I was the one who chose to cut my hair.

The golf course is holding my interest more these days. We are thinking of going on a golf outting with some other residents here in SeniorLand and I've got to do better. I've added a hybrid club to my bag--I now have a driver(still forbidden by the doc but he is such a killjoy), an 8 iron, 9 iron, putter and now the hybrid. I'm not sure what the hybrid is but the ball goes further with it than with the 8 iron. I've also learned the hybrid is not for using on any kind of hill or rough or too close to the green. I've played with just the 8 iron for a year now and I'm ready to branch out. With Johnny the Grip, Coach Sparrow, and watching the golf channel I ought to be improving soon. I mean--if Rush can improve I'm sure I can catch on to this game. But then I remember the new camera and software--uh, maybe not.

The 19th Hole

At A Loss For Words

I don't know why I can still be shocked by the cultural mores so common to Northern California--but I can. Blatantly written up in the local rag on PAGE ONE was the following article:
http://www.pressdemocrat.com/article/20101211/ARTICLES/101219902/0/NEWS

The Emerald Cup?? NINE days to judge the winning bud??? We sure ain't in Kansas! I really shouldn't be surprised. A medicinal marijuana shoppe is going in right down the road about half a mile from SeniorLand. I guess they know their target market.

I've been rather discouraged that I've not met friends closer to my own age here in SeniorLand. The Hall Monitors and Nazis-on-Golfcarts crowd seem a bit off-putting to me. So--after 3 years of grousing I decided to send out a tentative feeler for other Baby Boomers who are now entering retirement.

I placed a discreet notice in the local paper, hoping to get a handful of replies. It felt as if I were putting a blurb in the personals section of the newspaper. You know, "first-wave Boomer wants to meet other Boomers for staying up past 7pm, using words like "cool" and maybe even "groovy" if they happen to slip out." Or, to put it in Boomer lingo--We are, like, lookin' for a Happening!

I've been shocked to have had 80 responses to my article! So much for a quiet evening in our living room with a few bottles of good wine. It's morphed into a full-fledged meeting and definitely BYOB and not at our place!

On the other hand, maybe the local MaryJane Medicine Shoppe really does know it's all about location, location, location.

I'll be keeping you posted on the emerging Boomers
in Retirement group.

1066 and All What??

Veterans' Day found me at one of the golf courses here in SeniorLand. I had signed up for a group golf lesson--Johnny the Grip was going to walk a group of us through some of the basics while we actually played at the game-you know that game--hit ball(most of the time) advance ball, wave 3 foursomes through, pick up ball and start again at next hole. That very same game.

While waiting I struck up a conversation with 3 Brits(Reggie, Reggie, and Ol' Reggie) who were telling stories about WWII. They spoke of being in Egypt and France as though it had happened just last week. There was no bragging, no navel gazing, just matter-of-fact recounting what had to be horrendous times in their young lives. None of them had been in the Pacific so I volunteered that I had been born at Pearl Harbor. At this glad piece of news one of them leapt out of his golf cart, grabbed me around the waist and proceeded to dance me around the pro shop! I think it might have been the best dance of my life--we didn't miss a step and surely turned heads as we spun and waltzed around the building.

This, of course, lead to a more detailed discussion of war topics and we got onto the topic of who had been the last English king to go into battle. I maintained Richard III(1452--1485) had been the last to lead his army into battle at Bosworth Field and Reggie One insisted it had been George II(1683--1760) at the Battle of Dettingen in 1743. This eventually brought all 3 Reggies into the lively discussion. (Dettingen???? What is that??)

Of course Reggie One had been correct. Richard III had been the last English king to die in battle while George II lived through Dettingen. Ol' George II was also the last British monarch to be born outside of England. It's amazing the things one learns on the golf course.

Later that day I stopped by our little market and ran up a tab of $10.66. Still enlivened by the Richard vs. George discussion, I joked to the boy at the register that 1066 seemed a fitting tally for this Veterans' Day. He just looked at me as if I'd lost it. I tried again--"You know, 1066?" (Dull look) "Battle of Hastings?" (His eyes glazing over) "William the Conqueror? The beginning, in a way, of our own history?" Nothing, nada, zip.

What's that about being bound to repeat it?

Chlorpheniramine 4mg and phenylephrine 10mg (KLOR fen IR a meen and FEN il EFF rin)

 Anyone with allergies knows that Actifed is the pill of choice. Anyone with difficulty breathing knows that Actifed lets you take in more air since your airway is less obstructed.

Anyone who has tried to buy Actifed in the last few years knows that somehow drug-type druggie drug makers need Actifed to make meth. (How did they ever figure that out?)

In California, to get Actifed, one has to show picture ID and sign that you will poke yourself in the eye if you're lying that the only reason you want Actifed is because you're sneezing your head off. Once the Solemn Oath Ceremony has been performed, the cashier doles out a two-week supply of the pills.  It works well for the pharmacy since you have to go in every two weeks and Actifed is cheap--about $6.00. It's the fifty dollars of other stuff one throws in the cart that keeps the chain store running.

Today I went for my Actifed. Stop! Red Light! Call for Upper Management!

"I'm sorry Toc. We are no longer allowed to fill that prescription or provide Actifed. You will have to arrange with your doctor for a substitute medication." Now remember--Actifed is an OTC drug--well, behind the counter anyway. It needs no prescription.

I guess people who depend on the antihistamene to breathe more easily will be in the peculiar position of contacting a local drug dealer--not to buy meth--but to buy Actifed! Is it illegal to deal with a drug dealer of illegal drugs to buy the legal drug that only he now has????

Shake It Out, Baby

First it was the Great Handcar Regatta. Then it was the Blessing of the Animals. Now it is going to be the Great California Shake Out. But wait--I forgot to bring you up to date with the local version of Blessing the Animals.

When I was a church organist I hated the Sunday when people brought their critters to church. Most of the pets were dogs, a cat or two but ALWAYS a snake or rodent. Those creatures inevitably belonged to 9 year old boys who felt compelled to shove the freshly-blessed trap bait up at my face while I tried to keep playing "All Things Bright and Beautiful."

But here in SeniorLand there is a winery nearby called the St. Francis winery and it seems only natural that instead of a church the Blessings should take place in the winery courtyard. And what an upgrade that turned out to be! There were HUNDREDS of people there and almost as many animals. How "sonoma-ish" can it get? Every breed of dog, a few exotic animals like a camel and macaws, wine tasting, wine buying, hired pooper-scoopers in uniforms, beautiful scenery.....sure beats bad hymns, inside and a long sermon!

I did have some coordination problems. While I can drive, use the cell phone(but never text), put on lipstick and manage a Starbucks latte, I could not handle a 70 pound Labradoodle, the new heavy camera, take pictures and do wine tasting. I never thought the wine tasting would have to go but since Mr T opted out for a hike, I was stuck --no wine. The line for animal blessing was long but the company was lovely. I think it was long because most dogs insisted on drinking the holy water as they were sprinkled so the supply had to be renewed about every 10 blessings. All in all, it was a very civilized event.

But now comes the really exciting civic involvement--I have been asked to be a "victim" in the Great California Shake Out next Saturday. This is going to be the biggest Pretend Earthquake ever. Of course, in my mind, it is very bad luck to do this. It was like Chevron naming their drilling platform in the Gulf "Typhoon" and then being surprised when Katrina smashed it to pieces. What do you expect when you tempt fate like that?

In any event, I am to be an earthquake victim, taken to the triage area, given a dread diagnosis and transported to the emergency care center. My only requirement was that I have no broken arms so I can photo-doc this entire Shake, Rattle and Roll. Meanwhile I need to practice my moaning, shrieks, and swooning. The pretend earthquake is supposed to be a doozy so maybe a few drinks from the wine from the Blessing of the Animals will make things more authentic when it comes to swaying and stumbling around. More to follow--I wonder if Hollywood will have agents watching.

http://www.shakeout.org/

(Sorry there weren't more pictures. After the first photo, I could only get "Server Error" messages.)