Furthur!
Bill Graham Civic Auditorium, December 29, 2012

It was a gift from God. The whole thing from start to finish. Even walking to the Civic Center from the BART with that magnificent red and green building in front of us (the capitol?) on the wide walkway with manicured trees was wonderful; reminded me of Paris. I spotted the seats in the first balcony to the right of the stage and that was where I knew we were to sit. We toyed with the floor, but I felt certain those seats were a gift from God. And glory be! It turned out to be the loge – really the finest section in the house, any house. We moved ourselves into two of what we thought were empty seats, only to be escorted down to the very front row of the loge, view totally unobstructed and even a space to put our purses and water and put our feet up on when taking a rest.

Oh, how we had fun! Maureen was the perfect person to go with. She really gets it - -enjoys it like I do. We were treated like queens in the loge section. I love how safe I feel, there is not weird sexual energy, it's just a bunch of us misfits rocking and connecting through the music. The music and the vibe were magnified – amplified – it was truly a magical night. We felt so totally safe in our spot, a sweet little safe haven with all the other misfit Grateful Dead people around us – all of us knowing the music, loving the music – connecting through the music. I was truly transported to a wild, lovely place. What a great way to close out the year.

They opened with Not Fade Away and I truly thought I was in heaven from the get go. It was just one great song after another; Estimated Prophet, (California, preachin’ on the burning shore), Cassidy, Cumberland Blues (my favorite from Workingman’s Dead; Make good money five dollars a day), I Know You Rider – gonna miss me when I’m gone . .

The music was so tight and so good – there were even several I didn’t quite know but the vocals and the rhythms were so marvelous – I danced like there was no tomorrow. The change in rhythms within a song were truly masterful as only the Dead can do. They had hired some very good what I think are probably studio musicians; two Latin vocalists with superb voices. I always knew when they moved up to the microphone it was going to be great. They sang big anthem type choruses with the crowd singing along – let me tell you, The Dead are definitely back on their game.

My years of reading so much about music and watching documentaries really made it just that much more enjoyable for me. It’s fun watching how they signal each other – understanding how they’re boosting their sound, hiring first rate, young studio musicians. The keyboards tried too hard but that was my only complaint. The guitar players along with Bob Weir, Jeff Chimenti or John Kadlick? I think his name is, had the added bonus of a good voice. I'm telling you, the vocals were really excellent. The Dead has been sloppy and messy for awhile and I was happy to hear it.

And then leaving with Not Fade Away (My love is bigger than a Cadillac) again (interesting touch) and leaving us to sing them back to the stage with “you know my love won't fade away.” was just the perfect hail from the communal spirit.

A  Bracebridge Birthday

 

Celebrated annually since 1927, the Bracebridge Dinner transforms the Ahwahnee dining room in Yosemite into a 17^th century English manor for a feast of food, song and mirth; an elegant and artistic four-hour pageant of classic carols, Renaissance rituals and entertainment of the Middle Ages. http://www.thebracebridgedinneratyosemite.com/msin.html

 

A phone call early in the morning is rarely a good thing. The birthday began with our friend calling with much apology that they would not be joining us for the celebration. There had been a brutal colitis attack in the middle of the night and they would be going to the emergency room instead of meeting us in Yosemite. Everyone felt terrible and we were all very sad that they would not be with us for the festivities. Additionally, it was quite unfortunate that they were also slated to drive not only their dear selves, but also the Droste formal wear for the Bracebridge dinner and concert.

As you can well imagine, a lot of scrambling ensued during the early hours of December 20^th, my birthday. Several phone calls were placed, attempting to entice friends to come on up and use the tickets. We pieced together an outfit for me out of beautiful Joy’s wardrobe, but poor Rob was out of luck. As he tried on Jeff’s trousers and sport coat and I saw the hem gathered around the tips of his shoes, even I had to admit that it just wasn’t going to work.

Calls were frantically made to the Ahwahnee Hotel, (do you have extra formal wear for the dining room?) We briefly toyed with the idea of contacting the costumer of Bracebridge and turning Rob into an English squire. The Ahwahnee option petered out early and so did the squire idea. Was the only option left to drive five plus round trip hours to meet our friend halfway in Merced? Really?

I declared, “It’s time to pray!”

We prayed. We prayed out loud. We prayed hard.

I slowly began to let go. I was getting ready to surrender the whole thing. I really didn’t want my sweetie driving for most of the day on ice encrusted roads just to get clothes. I imagined other scenarios God might have planned for us. Maybe a slow drive around beautiful Yosemite with its unworldly winter light on the gray rock, followed by snuggling up in our room with a couple of holiday movies and lots to eat? And then, Rob’s cell phone rang, right in the middle of the prayer. Joe said YES!

I was so happy to unzip the wardrobe bag and see my rose lace dress of delicate beauty. I wore it on my 40^th birthday when Robbie and Franzie threw me and my new husband an elegant birthday party. (That’s what it said on the invitations, an Elegant Dinner Party.) That dress has good juju. And Rob looked every bit the handsome gentleman in his tux and tails. I’m even getting used to the beard with its flecks or silver and wisdom. Could this man really be my husband? After celebrating twenty-one birthdays with him, I’m still excited that he’s mine!

We arrived at the Ahwahnee soon thereafter and he gave me my gift in the Great Room as we sat by the enormous fire. I opened the pretty little box and . . . oh, boy - - Lucy jewelry! And it perfectly matched my dress!

Lucy Jewelry

Joe strode into the gift shop with his fine brocade vest, red cowboy ribbon tied neatly in a bow and long, grey curls flowing out of his cowboy hat. He’s a cowboy/actor/musician from South Dakota; the real thing. I admired him for dropping everything at the last minute, gathering up our clothes and hurtling down the road in his Yosemite.

I do believe that the Bracebridge dinner and performance is the most glorious holiday event in the country - - maybe even the world! I knew every note of the four hours of music, having prepared by listening to it in Little Red driving to work and writing cards and wrapping presents at home.

Our friend, Joy, has performed with Bracebridge for years now and this year she was promoted to manager of the whole extravaganza. She was resplendent in her blue finery and jewels singing The Cantique de Noel in a quartet right at our table.

My favorite part was the magnificent peacock slowly processed down the long hall of the Ahwahnee dining room, followed by my favorite course of sumptuous “peacock” (duck confit) strudel/pie. My second favorite was the plum pudding and the French chef bemoaning forgetting the plum, but not the rum! (or the brandy).

Have you ever tasted plum pudding dear reader? Oh, my goodness! The closest comparison is an ever-moist slice of carrot cake, but better, each bite sublime. The men at the table positively moaned at the baron of beef. Picture Karla and four dapper gentlemen seated at the performer’s table right up front. Could a girl even ask for a better birthday?

Joe got another great big gift for saying yes. In addition to the Bracebridge dinner, due to an overbooking, he was placed in the special Ahwahnee suite, with a panoramic view of the waterfall and brilliant Yosemite granite. Joe, Jeff, Rob and I celebrated in style after the show, gathering around a robust fire, sipping rich red wine, laughing and sharing stories.

And if all this was not enough, God had one more present for me to top off the evening. Jeff persuaded the entire cast to sing Happy Birthday to me after the show! It was a moment I will never forget. If you’ve never had over fifty professional choristers sing you Happy Birthday, let me assure you that it was a peak experience. Put it on your bucket list.

Joy, Jeff, Joe and Rob, how can I think you enough? You gave me one of the finest birthdays I’ve ever celebrated. It was a wonderful beginning to my 56^th year on the planet.

A Very Happy Birthday Girl!

 

 

 

 

Post 12/14/12

From my journals this morning, December 16, 2012

There has been a terrible tragedy in our nation. Twenty small children and seven adults were shot and killed by a mad man/boy in a leafy Connecticut town, sixty miles or so from New York City. A collective grief hangs over us that recalls our personal grief and violence some of us have suffered over the years. I find myself sad and anxious underneath the festivities of the holidays. Why isn’t anyone talking about it at social occasions? "It’s all different now!", my insides scream.

I was going to write about gift giving. Maybe later.

Where are you God? In the response? In that sweet line of children, each with one hand upon the other’s shoulder, as you led them out of the fire of violence and darkness? I looked at each of their faces; some twisted with fear, mouths open, eyes crinkled in terror, some absolutely blank as they filed out of that school, all silently obeying the grounded and capable policewoman guiding them, doing what they were told. Lining up like that in that chaos! It tore my heart out.

God, were you in the courage of those two women, the principal and the counselor, the first to meet him in the hall, trying to fend him off? Were you that teacher who died, throwing herself over those tiny bodies? Did you gather the small ones and huddle with them in a corner, seeking safety under the shadow of your wings?

Were you in the red, tired eyes I saw in church this morning as a group of faithful people at All Saints Episcopal church in San Leandro lined up for communion? Were you in my husband who spoke with courage, compassion and clarity to a badly shaken congregation? I made a note to myself after the sermon:

Let us respond oh sisters and brothers!

Let us respond with as much love as we can muster from our broken hearts.

Winter and the Holidays

 

Our Mantle, December, 2012

 

 I’m so quietly joyous. I have a soul-deep peace. I love this room. Our home. It is early Sunday morning. I awoke refreshed at 6:30 am. I have the whole day to just be. It is so very quiet. I treasure our hushed sanctuary. Bright winter sunlight floods the room and fills me with ecstasy. I love these sparkly pillows I put out for the holidays that gleam in the light, transforming our everyday couch and making it special. This whole season is special, magical, infused with glitter and beauty. Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.

Journal Entry from Oakland, 11/29/07

Love Seat in the Christmas Nest

We have a ritual on the day after Thanksgiving that I look forward to all year.  It’s time to put up the tree! Oh, glory! The system we have created over the years makes it easy and fun. We know we’re always going to be off work the day after Thanksgiving, and this way it’s all done and we can enjoy our beautifully decorated home for the rest of the season. Sometimes we even start our Christmas cards. It mystifies me why anyone would want to spend such a special day shopping amidst the frenzied, bargain-seeking crowds.

Our Christmas Tree!

 

This year we began the process on Thanksgiving Day. We hauled up the holiday decoration boxes from storage and began the ritual of creating our beloved Christmas nest. We put on the Messiah for the first listen of the year as I slowly unwrapped the ornaments, one by one, and handed them to Rob, who is much better at hanging ornaments than Karla. He hangs things; garlands, ornaments, etc. and I lay things, velvets and silk scarves on every flat surface and add little glittery touches everywhere.

 

It is a joy to unpack each snow globe, each angel, the rich velvet table linens and the nativity scene Lucy and Charlie brought us back from Mexico.  Every ornament is special and carries a memory of the past. One of my favorites is Reindeer Sammy, a small, sweet little orange cat with the horns of a reindeer that my spiritual director gave me the year Sammy, our orange tabby, died.  He gets a prime spot on my Christmas altar, along with the Queen of Hearts, ‘Neasie gave me one year and my tiny white, saucy angel, and the special stained glass candle holders from Paris, all laying on a burgundy beaded table runner.  I love it, love it, love it all! Our ritual marks the beginning of this sacred, sparkly, magical season.

Reindeer Sammy, 'Neasie's Queen of Hearts, Saucy Angel

Nativity Scene from Charlie and Lucy ( Note baby Kitty with Baby Jesus!)

  

One of the finest nights of the year is sitting still together on our couch, in front of the magnificent tree, a fire crackling, candles lit, listening to quiet choral music and savoring our efforts. I love our home! She looks so beautiful all decorated in her Victorian holiday splendor. I gaze around our home, looking forward to the season ahead of us. It is magical and special, unlike any other time of year.

Kitty Among the Foliage