Those particular creations represent a certain impermanence, not unlike life itself in general, and my father’s life, which ended August 10, 2000, in particular.
Back in May, I participated in this ninety-minute writing class from a woman named Diane Cameron. Among many other things, she’s a freelance writer who appears in the local newspaper regularly.
The directive was to think of three doors that were important in your life. Then you write about one of them for four minutes. And by “writing,” this means not taking the pen off the paper, not editing, just letting the words take us where they would.
The first door was the outside door at 5 Gaines Street, Binghamton, NY, the house in which I lived for the first 18 years of my life. We lived in a two-family dwelling, so this was the door to the hallway. It was very thick, as I recall, painted white, with green trim.
Inside the first-floor dwelling was the living room, very tiny by today’s standards. The remarkable thing, though, was the fact that my father painted on the walls. I don’t mean he hung his paintings on the wall, but that he painted art directly ONTO the walls.
The picture above was located between two of the windows in the front of the house. I think it was a re-creation of some painting he had admired, though I couldn’t tell you what. It seems that the colors were muted oranges, and tans, and maybe greens.
On the opposite wall was a sharp contrast: a mountain scene, all blue and black and gray and white. Very forceful and bright, where other painting was subtle and subdued. (The woman was dad’s mother, Agatha, who lived upstairs with her husband, and would die less than two years after this photo was taken.)
The feeling I got from the writing exercise was of some significant sadness. Those pictures are long gone, like the solar system he painted on my ceiling, or the Felix the Cat he created for my sisters’ bedroom. Other paintings and drawings and writings he created live on. So those particular creations represent a certain impermanence, not unlike life itself in general, and his life, which ended August 10, 2000, in particular.
I had thought of those paintings many times before. But only after this writing exercise did they resonate so greatly. Thanks, Diane, I think.
Evanier saw Hal Holbrook as Mark Twain. I remember watching the Holbrook special on CBS in 1967. Hadn’t seen it since, but it had a profound effect on me in terms of the wonders of storytelling. Also made me a big Hal Holbrook fan; I watched the Senator segment of The Bold Ones a few years later, which lasted one season, but won five Emmys.
Evanier introduces Julie Newmar to Wendy Pini. The former was one of the portrayers of Batman’s Catwoman; the latter, the artist who draws Elfquest, and who used to show up at FantaCo in Albany frequently.
Jim Keays passed away. “He was the lead singer of The Masters Apprentices, one of the seminal Australian psychedelic rock and pop bands of the 1970s.” Eclectic stuff.
Watch the bass player. Reg Kehoe and his Marimba Queens (ca. early 1940s). “This film seems to be a mirror image of how things are supposed to be. This is because original Soundie films were printed backward so that they could appear correct when played in the Panoram machine (an early film jukebox).” Someone flipped the tape, and it’s supposed to look like this. It’s also at 7:50 here, which has nicer resolution.
Alcoholics fight ‘rampant epidemic’: Roger Green played for the Junior All Blacks. He screen-tested to play James Bond in Diamonds are Forever and acted on the big screen with Orson Welles. He married into British high society. Drove a white Mustang across the US. Made a fortune importing meat into Saudi Arabia. But he also had fights, criminal convictions, and three failed marriages. And he looks back on it all with disdain.
Attempting to immortalize your loved one by leaving everything “just as it was” or storing away boxes to go through at some later date may prolong your grieving process, preventing you from moving forward with your life.
My eldest niece has a friend named Jessica McKimmie. Jess has a blog called Peace Through Grief. The first post, dated, coincidentally or not, on September 11, 2013:
After the sudden loss of my mom last year and the loss of my dad eleven years ago, I’m beginning to consider that maybe, just maybe, I’m here on this earth to talk to others about grief.
And she does, through communing with nature and writing a letter to her late mom.
The first idea: “Allow yourself time.” And in particular:
Beware of extremes.
Attempting to immortalize your loved one by leaving everything “just as it was” or storing away boxes to go through at some later date may prolong your grieving process, preventing you from moving forward with your life. On the other extreme, you may have impulses to purge everything right away, wishing yourself to push through or quickly “move on” . This too can be a sign of denial of the magnitude of your loss.
It reminded me of a specific situation that I think played out badly, that might have been avoided with a bit more mutual understanding.
There’s a couple I’ll call Jack and Sandy. They met online, fell in love, got married in fairly short order, much to the dismay of Jack’s family. When Jack died of cancer less than a year and a half after the wedding, Jack’s family asked Sandy for some stuff of Jack’s to remind them of Jack, pretty much right after the funeral. Sandy was quite resistant; they had had him for over 40 years, while she had had him less than two, so their demands seemed insensitive and unfair.
My sense is that if Jack’s family had given Sandy more time to grieve, their requests for some of Jack’s mementos would have been better received. *** The Art of Presence
Father stop criticizing your son
Mother please leave your daughters alone
Don’t you see that’s what wrong
With the world with world today
Everybody wants somebody
To be their own piece of clay
The absurd death of Marvin Gaye, at the hands of his father, a day shy of his 45th birthday, always saddens me in early April. He would have been 75 today, but instead was killed 30 years ago yesterday.
Here are twenty-one songs, all linked here, some multiple times, and with different spellings. My list is more or less in preference order, though I’m sure I left off something obvious. The citations refer to its Billboard pop charts zenith, and the year:
21. The Star-Spangled Banner – a controversial version performed at the 1983 NBA All-Star Game 20. Yesterday – WAY too many covers of this Beatles song, yet this is one I like 19. Let’s Get It On (1, 1973) 18. Got to Give It Up (1, 1977) 17. I’ll Be Doggone (8, 1965) 16. Pride And Joy (10, 1963)
15. You’re All I Need to Get By (with Tammi Terrell) (7, 1968) 14. Your Unchanging Love (33, 1967) 13. I Heard It Through the Grapevine (1, 1968) – this might have fared better on my list if I had not burned out on it in the Big Chill period. BTW, Yahoo! Voices wrote: “The song became so popular in fact, that numerous artists have re-recorded their own renditions, not that any of them can compare to the original.” WRONG: It was NOT the original. Smokey Robinson and the Miracles recorded it earlier, though Berry Gordy put the kibosh on its release. Then Gladys Knight and the Pips went to #2 with it the year before Marvin’s version went to #1. 12. It Takes Two (with Kim Weston) (14, 1967) 11. Mercy Mercy Me (4, 1971) – the ecology is more threatened now than it was then…
10. Sexual Healing (3, 1983) – his last big hit, after he had moved from Motown to Columbia 9. Ain’t Nothin’ Like the Real Thing (with Tammi Terrell) (8, 1968) 8. What’s Going On (2, 1971) 7. Hitch Hike (30, 1963) 6. Ain’t That Peculiar (8, 1965)
5. Stubborn Kind Of Fellow (46, 1962) – and he was, in his dealings with Berry Gordy and others 4. Ain’t No Mountain High Enough (with Tammi Terrell) (19, 1967) 3. Piece Of Clay – never heard this song until I found it on the soundtrack to the 1996 movie Phenomenon Father stop criticizing your son
Mother please leave your daughters alone
Don’t you see that’s what wrong
With the world with world today
Everybody wants somebody
To be their own piece of clay 2. Inner City Blues (9, 1971) – STILL makes me want to holler, throw up both my hands… 1. Can I Get a Witness (22, 1963) *** This is an interesting listen A Tribute To The Great Nat King Cole by Marvin Gaye. All links are correct, except #2, which is neither the song (On the street where you live NOT Ramblin’ Rose), or the artist (sung by someone named Eugene Butcher) listed.
It seems like yesterday, and a long time ago, that Mom died.
As I have mentioned, my mother is buried at Salisbury National Cemetery in Salisbury, North Carolina; the place has an interesting history. My father had died in August 2000, and it was a great stress for the family to figure out the logistics. But when my mom died three years ago today, the situation was considerably easier; since Dad was cremated, Mom was likewise.
What I did not know is that they don’t just take my father’s marker and add my mom’s information. Instead, they made a new marker altogether, with my dad’s data on one side, and my mom’s on the other.
My sister Marcia, who lives in North Carolina, went to Salisbury on Veterans Day 2013 and took this picture. Since I haven’t actually been to NC since my mother’s funeral, this is the first time I’ve “seen” the headstone.
Mom’s mother was named Gertrude, and she wasn’t too fond of it, though she was not one to complain too much. Her first cousins knew her as Gertie, but all the time I could remember, she preferred Trudy.
My sister Leslie sang Wind Beneath My Wings at my father’s funeral, dedicated to my mother, and reprised it at mom’s funeral.
It seems like yesterday, and a long time ago, that Mom died. I suppose that is irrational, but there it is.
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