Lisa's Tree

Lisa put up the tree today.

It is a small artificial tree, maybe 4 feet high, sitting on a table. She strung lights and put on decorations. It looks pretty. Many of the decorations were mine, at one time. There were a few years that I didn't mind Christmas so much. My friend's grandmother hand crocheted a couple of small wreaths and I had a few wooden toys I bought back in the 80's. Lisa also hung ornaments signifying both of her marriages.

While she was decorating, FM 106.9 was playing holiday music. Every year they switch to an all-Christmas-music-until-you-puke format. That radio station always leads in the ratings during the month of December. I could not force myself up the stairs to see her handiwork until she turned off the music. Once she turned it off, I said "now I can come upstairs". I did not realize until that moment why I had locked myself in my bedroom.

She even hung stockings for both of us above the fireplace. And I bought her a couple of stocking stuffers. Trying to get into the spirit. Trying.

Sometimes I wonder if I manufacture my misery this time of year because it is a state of mind I am used to having. But, when I ponder this further, I realize that I just can't muster joy without just cause. The Biblical story does not fill me with peace or happiness.

If you've read this far, my apologies. On Facebook, I've taken to calling myself The Christmas Curmudgeon. But, looking at Lisa's tree again, I smile at the sparkling lights and can appreciate how it brightens up the living room.

Thanks Lisa - despite my crankiness, I appreciate your efforts.

Another Cloudburst "Hit"

Found one more - my old band doing Christopher Cross' song, "Sailing". I always liked the purity of Bob's vocals. And, I think Ron and I sounded pretty good doing back-up. The band was solid on this one. I think Ron wanted to be a DJ - he always back-announced the tunes. Funny!

Holiday Blues

I wish I knew what in the hell was wrong with me.

As far back as I can remember, I've gotten horribly depressed around Christmas. My mother usually made us clean house, as soon as the Christmas presents had been opened. Plus, she never really liked the gifts that we gave her. If we knew she wanted a bathrobe and we got her one, she'd say "Oh - I really wanted one with a zipper, instead of a belt" or something like that. There was always something wrong with whatever gift we got her. Mom sent Linda a box a few years ago, filled with all of the gifts Linda had sent her over the years. Unopened boxes. Mother never used Linda's gifts. I gave up giving her anything, years ago.

Despite these same memories, though, both of my sisters still like Christmas. Linda loves sending presents and Lisa loves playing Christmas music and giving cards to her co-workers. Not me. I shut down, become moody and cranky and cry a lot. This year is even worse. I'm off of "the feed". Off of antidepressants, fully, for the first Christmas in about 20 years, I think. My decent into the doldrums seems more dramatic this year.

What I don't understand is why I feel worse, after I've been shown love, caring and kindness.

Tonight, my very good friends, a gay couple named Don and Doug, took me out to a wonderful dinner. Then, they bought us tickets to see a local dance school's annual Holiday production of The Steadfast Tin Soldier. Afterward, we went out for mochas and desert. When I finally got into my car to leave, my battery was dead. Don and Doug made no fuss and just pulled out their jumper cables to get my car started. All of this, in the pouring rain. I felt loved. And then, I had to drive around for a half hour, charging my car back up.

I decided to drive around the North end neighborhoods, looking at lights. There were a lot of decorated homes. My favorite house was fully ablaze, with a giant blue star of David atop a myriad of multi-colored lights covering every square inch of property. I was listening to Gino's Nightwalker album. Good music, nice scenery and a full tank of gas. A pleasant drive. The rain was coming down in sheets but I was safe, warm and dry inside the car.

Once I got back home, though, I started feeling sadder and sadder. Was I blue because my evening was over? Because I was alone (even though the dogs were more than happy to see me return)? Earlier in the evening, I shed a few tears during the ballet performance. Seeing all of those sweet children in their beautiful costumes filled me with a feeling I have never had before. A maternal urge. My heart went out to those kids. I realized how hard they had all worked to make such a wonderful show and wished I had one of my own, to hug, after the performance! After the show, Don, Doug and I walked through the throngs of families looking for their friends. As I was passing the kids, I wanted to tell them all how great they did. But, they were all scanning the crowd for their own families and friends. I said nothing. I didn't want to be the creepy lady paying unwanted attention to strange children.

I remembered being in choirs and plays in high school and looking for my mom when the show was over. She came to all the shows. She even came to all of those ponderous, never-ending choir concerts we were in twice a year. She took photos (with her little pocket Instamatic )during her daughters' solos. She may have sucked at Christmas, but she always showed up for the shows. And, mom would always let us go off with our friends, afterward, to get pizza. She was good that way.

Maybe I'm finally ready to be on the other end of those shows. It has taken me nearly 50 years to get to this point. I'm sick of being alone. I want to share my life with somebody else and have my own family.

Maybe that is why I'm sad tonight.

In Da Hood

Some new small businesses have moved into the neighborhood. A wonderful little Mexican grocery store run by a very nice, peace-loving man (whose name I forget!!! Sorry!) and a fantastic Thai restaurant called "Eddie's", owned by a man named Eddie. While I was walking the dogs today, I ran into Eddie, who is looking to buy a house close by, so he has an easier commute to his restaurant. He and his wife currently have to drive over a half-an-hour, most days and they are sick of it, even though they own a nice home on Mercer Island.

After I brought the dogs back home, I stopped into the little grocery store for some half-and-half and had a nice chat with the proprietor. I paid with my Visa debit card and the machine took several tries, before the transaction finally cleared. I wondered aloud if the "Anonymous" anarchists, were toying with the Visa payment system. These anarchists had been clogging the wheels of commerce all day, to protest the arrest of the Wikileaks founder. The grocery store guy shook his head and we talked about the importance of peace, in this world. We both used Rodney King's famous quote "Why can't we all just get along?" He shared a little story about being stuck in traffic today. He was trying to get onto the freeway and a woman driving an SUV refused to let him merge into her lane. Instead of getting pissed off, he instantly forgave her, figuring that her problems must be greater than his, in order for her to be so unkind. I mean, what a guy!

Two weeks ago, I knocked on the window of The Purple Store, opening up a few blocks away. I was surprised to see a store front for this business, as it has only existed online up until now. I knew about it because Adam, the owner, gave me great advice when I was planning a benefit for Art F/X after their Fremont gallery and gift shop went up in flames a couple of years ago. A wonderful reconnection.

I love the multiculturalism of this neighborhood. Sure, Aurora Avenue is not very glamorous. But, in a few short blocks there are great Vietnamese Pho, Thai, and Mexican Torta restaurants. A chocolate shop is next door to the Pho place. 2 martial arts dojos are less than a block away from each other. An Australian pub advertises Soccer games on its big-screen TVs. And, there is a religious place called 'I Am' just north of the PCC natural grocery store.

Small businesses, not corporations, are the real glue of a community. One-to-one connections with people who have a vested interest in the neighborhood are so much more fulfilling than driving to a big-box store miles away, and antiseptically purchasing groceries. It might be a little more expensive to shop locally, but in the end, the experience is much more gratifying.

Wistful

Must be getting nostalgic and wistful after listening to and posting all of these old band recordings. Makes me want to go out and sing tonight. Hopefully "Rockaraoke" is playing tonight at the Snoqualmie Casino.

Last time I was there, they finally had somebody new doing the lights and sound. It makes a BIG difference having a professional-level person behind the board. Boosts your confidence!

Do I have to change clothes? Nah - just going to wear what I have on - jeans, tank top, denim over shirt and a scarf around my neck. Makeup? Yeah, I guess. I just don't wear much makeup anymore. A little mascara and some lipstick (which also doubles as blush and eye shadow).

Maybe the band's learned some "new" old songs that I'll know. Haven't sung there in a while. At least 6 weeks, I think.

Cloudburst ft. Ron Ricci - Too Hot 1980

Ron does a great job on the vocal here. The band sounds pretty good, too. BK and I used to play around with the backing vocals. Instead of repeating the line, "too hot", we'd sing "whooo haaa"...

Ooooh ooooh Fire

Last one I'm going to share from this era (as I don't have any more). Cloudburst doing The Pointer Sister's song, Fire. Always wondered why I sang with an accent...