Pushovers & Expectations

"My expectations on other people..I double them on myself"            James Brown

Mrs. Dugan was cool.  Not the typical hipster, young & happenin' acquired kinda cool. Nope, she was just born cool.  Created from the type of universal collision that must only happen once in a million years or so. Clearly that had to be the case, how else could such an old broad rock slim fit polyester pants & a matching polyester button up blouse with an over sized bow no less & still pull off the cool? She did it, and on the daily.  Wealthy beyond any of our 6th Grade wildest dreams, it was not uncommon to see huge oil tanker trucks bearing her family name streaming down the highway just outside our 2nd story class window. I always thought it fascinating to see them in the background while she was in the midst of a class lecture; like a huge moving billboard advertising her very existence as a brand for success. I often wondered why someone like Mrs. Dugan chose to spend her days with a bunch of bratty 6th graders.  Clearly she could have been gallivanting across France or sipping tea somewhere with royalty. She just had that air about her. Intelligence & brassy wit, Mrs. Dugan was no pushover.    It seemed to me that somewhere along the way Mrs. Dugan must have decided to make it her lifetime ambition to turn large groups of country kids into kids with big plans.  I felt a positive force of strength from her & so I made it a point to listen closely whenever she would speak. At the beginning of each month she placed scenic photos side by side above the chalkboard, probably 30 or more.  When we arrived in the morning we were to put our things away, take out a clean sheet of paper & write one entire page describing a story or a scenario taking place in one of the scenic photos.  "If I can't pick out the specific photo from your description?  Then you fail the assignment.  The quicker & more easily I am able to fully identify the photo from the scenario you are describing?  The higher your grade".  What an amazing concept, I thought.. "ingenious idea!"  I set out to blow her mind.  I wanted her to discover my scenario photo faster than any other 6th grader ever.  Writing & rewriting I worked diligently to use as many descriptive words as possible in order to make it easier for Mrs. Dugan to find my proverbial story needle in a haystack.  But, each time I received my grade, I was disappointed.  A-, B, B-, C in red pen slashes across my beautiful stories.  "What do I smell?" she would write.  "What do I hear?" in cursive lettering along the margin lines... "Why do I want to be here?" "What makes this so unusual?"  I viewed those red squiggly letters as angry red blotches across my cheery, happy paper & as sad as it made me?  It also made me that much more determined to reach an A+. I quickly obtained a Thesaurus & carried it to class. I searched for new, thought provoking words as I painstakingly orchestrated my morning paper.  And even though I tried with all my might?  I never rose above an A-.
On the day before summer vacation she returned the last paper she would ever grade of mine. Written in the margin in her signature cursive red ink were the words  "To receive an A+ in writing one must be flawless.  Flawless does not exist, but we must always strive for it's attainment.   Enjoy your summer & write on!"

Nope. Never a pushover.
I think Mrs. Dugan may have been a badass before the word badass existed.

WRITE ON.

Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams,

Birdee Bow

Desperados & David Lee Roth

"You want a hero in the music world?  James Brown.  He brought a feeling to music without really using words.  He's just famous for his sound."  David Lee Roth

While wearing a vintage inspired "Van Halen" t-shirt this week, I couldn't help but notice the amount of times it brought on conversation.  The grocery store, the gas station, the bank. Seemed like everywhere I journeyed, again & again people felt compelled to tell me about the greatest concert ever! Such a cool & resounding ode to one of the most talented rock bands to ever hit the stage. So, when an older gentleman with a grey beard & Buddy Holly style glasses said to me, "Van Halen, huh?" I expected the same rhetorical concert re-enactment of David Lee Roth's spread eagle jump in striped leggings while grasping onto a  microphone stand.  And though Roth's legendary performance is one that I would LOVE to see?  I admit I was growing a bit weary, when to my surprise.."I've heard the name Eddie Van Halen, but I don't know the music. Any good?"  As I began to answer his question, he cut me short, "I'm not really a rock'n roller, but I love music. I might like them. Have you ever heard Guy Clark's Desperados Waiting For a Train?"
He  went on to tell me about the magnitude talent of Guy Clark's songwriting & how he is not only one of the greatest songwriters of his era, but of all time.  He stopped short. "I'm sorry, it's a beautiful song, I tend to go on & on about it, but it's a sad one too." The earnest melancholy in  his eyes was evident as he told me the song lyrics were not actually about waiting for a train, as the title would suggest, but rather about the complex love between a father & a son.  The "train" symbolized death & the parting of ways which we're all somehow waiting for, unaware.  "I hope you will check it out",  he said as he turned to walk away, "maybe you'll get something out of it."  With one last look back he uttered, "I miss my dad".  The entire interaction lasted but only a few seconds, but I felt as though I had just stood in the glow of a light beam with a perfect stranger who only wanted to share something he found to be beautiful & meaningful.  I felt compelled to listen to the song.  Getting into my car, I you tubed the song on my cell.  It was indeed familiar from the The Highwaymen version, but I had never actually listened..  I had never zoned in on the beauty of the lyrical story & the gentle, subtle delivery.  As I listened a few more times I could not help but think of my own dad & those who are so dear to my heart as a tear came to my eye.  I guess we really are desperados waiting for a train at times.
Of course desperado by definition means without hope and I like to think that with a little help from those we love & apparently a few strangers to light the way, hope still reigns supreme.

Wishing you moments with music.

Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams,

xo
Birdee Bow

Guy & Susanna Clark 

Desperados Waiting for a Train by Guy Clark

I played the Red River Valley 
He'd sit in the kitchen and cry 
Run his fingers through seventy years of livin' 
And wonder, "Lord, why has every well I've drilled gone dry?" 

We were friends, me and this old man 
We's like desperados waitin' for a train 
Desperados waitin' for a train 

He's a drifter, a driller of oil wells 
He's an old school man of the world 
He taught me how to drive his car when he was too drunk to 
And he'd wink and give me money for the girls 
And our lives was like, some old Western movie 
Like desperados waitin' for a train 
Like desperados waitin' for a train 

From the time that I could walk he'd take me with him 
To a bar called the Green Frog Cafe 
There was old men with beer guts and dominos 
Lying 'bout their lives while they played 
I was just a kid, they all called me "Sidekick" 
Just like desperados waitin' for a train 
Like desperados waitin' for a train 

One day I looked up and he's pushin' eighty 
He's got brown tobacco stains all down his chin 
Well to me he was a hero of this country 
So why's he all dressed up like them old men 
Drinkin' beer and playin' Moon and Forty-two 
Jus' like desperados waitin' for a train 
Like a desperado waitin' for a train 

The day 'fore he died I went to see him 
I was grown and he was almost gone. 
So we just closed our eyes and dreamed us up a kitchen 
And sang one more verse to that old song 
(spoken) Come on, Jack, that son-of-a-bitch is comin' 

We're desperados waitin' for a train 
Was like desperados waitin' for a train

One Million & One

Delia was the type of woman whose booming laughter entered the room long before she did. Tall, willowy with long blonde hair & a sunny disposition, her lighthearted energy defied the upper level account exec title upon her office door.  Although she must have been much closer to the 50 mark,  she embodied that eternal 20 something California Girl vibe & a mega watt smile that made men melt. I was the newbie country girl in town, straight off the turnip truck, who had just landed  a  32 line phone receptionist position at a sports film company where Delia ruled supreme.  As  I hustled to conquer correct extension numbers & office etiquette amongst a roster of high maintenance cameramen & filmmakers, Delia was the lifeboat of sunshine that kept me afloat.

Having just started a new gig as a singer for a rock band, the last place I wanted to be was at the 9 to 5, but a girl's gotta eat & sarcasm on the daily with Delia made it far less painful. Pursued by independently wealthy bachelors on the regular, Delia  was most fond of  international skiers & world famous winter sport athletes with names like Franz & Wolfgang.  She insisted that we work out a secret coding system for prospective suitors who would often visit her at work.  "Hans is here to see you..don't forget you have a late dinner meeting with Mr. Jones" meant, NO WAY, not this guy!   While , "No, your dinner meeting has just cancelled & you'll be free all evening!" meant red hot hottie alert!!  I felt a sense of entitlement with our secret messaging & a fondness for Delia who seemed to take me under her protective wing in a male dominated & challenging work environment.  I looked forward to Friday afternoons when these fancy suitors would typically visit. All so eager to meet the mystical Delia,  they looked right past me. I assume my punk rocker, bleach blonde pixie haircut & alternative attire might have been the perfect mix of quirk & rock'n roll for an up & coming film company, but not the refined chic elegance of a woman in Delia's upper crust league. Everything about her screamed STYLE & confidence.

Each evening I would deliver faxes & mail to offices before leaving for the day. One afternoon, while dropping off Delia's I stood perusing a huge bulletin board which hung on her wall. It was covered with photos of her partaking in fun adventures.  Skiing the alps, skydiving, rock climbing, hula hooping & eating ice cream with her nieces.  "Such a cute life!" I thought when suddenly,  "How long are you giving it?"  she asked while entering the room.  "Huh...what?  Giving what?" I replied.  "Your music career..how many years do you think you'll do it?"  She said with a smile.  "Uh..hmmm I never really thought of it that way.. I guess forever? or as long as it takes to make it??"  She looked at me with a big sisterly type of grin that made me feel like I had known her forever, "Making it is such a relative term sweetie, be sure you know what that means for you personally."  Then, while sipping coffee and making her way to her desk she opened a drawer &  pulled out a picture & handed it to me.  It was a photo of her in a magnificent red evening gown, standing on an equally magnificent red carpet with some George Clooney-esque  chiseled guy in a tux & shiny shoes.  "That's me at the Academy Awards a few years ago, I was on the fast track to stardom! But you wanna know something?  Turns out I don't actually like stardom so much."  I stood there.. motionless as she went on. "You will live a million lives in this one lifetime.  Live them all out.  Embrace each one. Keep your eyes open & learn. Each one will make you richer as a person & you will become more powerful with each experience."  I thought the photo was lovely & amazing & although I had no idea about her brush with stardom,  it made such perfect sense that I never even questioned it nor even asked her to elaborate.  A bit taken aback by the serious nature of the conversation,  I shook my head "yes" with an almost forced grin as I placed the photo back upon the desk.

Driving home that night my mind was racing back & forth with a flood of mixed emotions  "well this woman clearly doesn't have a clue how pulled together I AM!  I KNOW what I want. Does she not believe I can make it? She has no idea how focused I am.  Is she bitter?  I'm absolutely sure of my destiny...she doesn't know everything, I've got it all figured out, why would I want so many lifetimes when I only need the ONE  I'm after? Why is everyone giving out FREE advice all the time?"

With every passing year  I think about Delia & the brilliance she shared with me that day. What a truly beautiful sentiment. Changing, adapting & turning toward the light at every juncture. Who wouldn't want a million different lives within one lifetime?

Here's to a million & one

Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams,

Birdee Bow

A Powerful Thing

"You don't need money, don't take fame 

Don't need no credit card to ride this train 

It's strong and it's sudden and it's cruel sometimes 

But it might just save your life 

That's the power of love "
                                                 Huey Lewis

During the summer months, I would visit my grandma & grandpa's house in the country.  I loved packing up my little suitcase & pretending I was entirely grown up, going away for a vacation all on my own.  I spent most of my time in grandma's room seated at her powder table.  Snooping through her jewelry box & makeup drawers, I would try on varied shades of terra cotta lipstick & Emeraude par fum.  She loved gold jewelry, coral scarves &  bright teal accessories; colors that reminded me of the ocean & California sunshine.  In my eyes, her closet was a magnificent glamour scene filled with beautiful pieces from Neiman Marcus to Dunlap's Department store.  Stored shiny items stuffed so tightly together (many with the price tags still attached) were wrapped in garment bags & shear plastic sheaths.  So many shoes...all neatly stored in stacked striped boxes. Hanging belts of every shape & color.  Her wardrobe seemed to be a never ending adventure fit for world travels, not the humdrum country lifestyle of it's surroundings.  But, I loved the contradiction of it all & I couldn't wait to grow up so I could fit into something from that  closet to have my own adventures one day.  Yes, Grandma loved to shop & oddly enough? Grandpa loved to take her shopping!  It wasn't unusual to hear him say "Mama, you want me to drive you into town today so you can buy a new dress?"   Wow, I thought grandpa had to be the coolest man on the planet!  But I did often wonder how a woman with grandma's total lack of cooking skill, zero interest in farm life & elegant style ever ended up in the country in the first place.
She told me once that as a child of the cotton fields, she had always hoped to grow up one day & leave the country.  She dreamt of a different life, one she had imagined through letters & gifts in the mail. Each year she & her sisters would receive a beautiful box wrapped in ribbons containing one school dress from their aunt.   Auntie was an enigmatic character who apparently left the country as a young girl & educated herself in the city.  She married wealthy & became a socialite.  Grandma shared photos of Auntie's beautiful Victorian style home & a brooch that had once belonged to her.  Auntie was regal & stately with impeccable style &  grace.  It was hard for me to imagine that Auntie had ever spent one day working in a cotton field, or for that matter even an afternoon in the sun!  She told me how she was always Auntie's favorite & how Auntie wanted her to come to the city after high school to continue her education, follow in her footsteps & leave the dirt fields behind.   I know that Grandma had met Grandpa sometime after high school & that he was an older, very eligible bachelor who not only owned some land & a few oil leases, but also had a great job.  A fine catch, handsome as the day was long with Native American heritage & steel blue eyes.   Here's where the details get fuzzy, but there must have been a breakup because they stopped seeing one another for a time & Grandma moved away. She started a new life with Auntie in the city & a new venture into secretarial school.  I could always picture her there with her perfectly coiffed curls & tiny frame. Such a beautiful girl, she must have been quite the splash in dresses & patent leather pumps making her way to classes upon the concrete.  As she told it, it was a great time, but there was always something missing.   One afternoon, Grandpa surprised her by showing up unannounced. Having just bought a new car, he decided to break it in by driving 300 miles to surprise her.  He told her he couldn't live without her any longer & asked her to marry him.  She said it was quite evident that he wasn't going home without her & well.. she was alll too happy to oblige.  :)
They got married that very weekend in Auntie's house.  Grandma settled into the country with Grandpa & she never looked back.  They were married 62 years before he passed away & although I never fully understood how the woman who seemed more Park Avenue apartment than country ranch house could have ever found happiness on the prairie,

 one thing is for sure..
She truly did.

Love is A Powerful Thing


Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams

xo

Birdee Bow