A Wedding: June 2014

This very happy story began not so happily in late 2009. It was around then that I had made up my mind to leave my New England life behind and try to start a new life somewhere else. I had no idea that younger son, Matthew, was having the same thought. Obviously, the notion of remaining "home" without our Ada was anathema to both of us.

I remember that Matt came over to my Eastman condo on a Sunday afternoon. He had been living in Woodstock, VT and had been working at a local insurance company. He pretty much hated every minute of it. As a matter of fact, Matt had pretty much hated every job he ever had.

Except when he was playing music.

Starting a few months before Ada's passing, Matthew had become absolutely obsessed with his beautiful tenor saxophone. By the time he came over that Sunday he was practicing about six hours every day, trying to achieve mastery over his horn. As luck would have it, Matt played his rendition of "Blackbird" for Ada about a week before she passed. It gave her (and me) great joy.

"Dad, I'm thinking about moving to Asheville, NC. I'm going to try and make a living as a full time musician. What do you think?"

What do I think? It's almost impossible to make it as a full time musician. Especially a jazz musician. You don't have the experience. You don't have the management. You don't know the obstacles that await you. As talented and dedicated as you are, success in this field has very little to do with talent or skill. Luck has a lot to do with it and your track record with luck ain't so hot.

That's what I thought. Here's what I said:

"Go for it, Matt."

I'm quite sure that Matt would have left for Asheville no matter what I said. After all, he was a grown man when he asked, perfectly capable of defining his own life. I'm also quite sure that telling Matt to go for it was the best piece of advice I ever gave him.

Here's the short version of what happened to Matt once he moved to Asheville:

Matt started playing his horn on the very hip streets of Asheville. By doing so he met many fellow musicians. It wasn't long before he joined several of them in various musical groups. He started getting gigs at some of the local clubs. He was feeling great, confident in his abilities, and delighted to be playing with people who were serious about music. He was broke all the time, but still determined to make it as a full time musician. At some point early on he met Audrey Hagan, a lovely local Ashevillian. It wasn't long before this relationship became more than just a casual friendship. It also wasn't long before it started dawning on Matthew that he wasn't going to be able to support himself on music alone. He decided to supplement his musical income with jobs as a waiter. This would be his hedge against poverty and, if he scheduled his time carefully, would not interfere with his musical aspirations. Meanwhile, his relationship with Audrey became more serious and Matthew realized that he was loved. So did Audrey. It's really miraculous what happens when you realize that you are worthy of being loved. It's like you have a cup or vessel of some kind that you've been trying desperately to fill without success and now it's always overflowing. You can't empty it.

So Matt went from Vermont to Asheville looking for music.

He found something a million times more important.

On Saturday, June 21 Audrey and Matt were married in a beautiful ceremony. Even the most jaded observer would have to admit that here were two people who loved, respected, and most importantly, liked each other. Their heartfelt vows were a testament to how they truly feel about each other.

I was humbled to witness the miracle and to join Jerry and Carol, Audrey's wonderful parents, in the celebration.

Some people are incredibly lucky and love manages to find them at 15. For other people it takes a little longer.

Either way, ain't life grand?

 

With this happy entry, I have decided to end this blog. For the past four years I have bored, outraged, and bothered you with 100 blog entries .

People, you have suffered enough.

Before I hang up my pen, I do want to pay homage to some special individuals.

Nancy entered my life about a year and a half ago. We've been laughing almost continuously since then. We're either crazy or in love. The jury's still out. Thank you, Nancy.

If you've been reading along, you know my son Josh, his remarkable wife Cindy, and their twins Sam and Sara have been through the ringer these last two years. Well, take a look at 'em now:

I suppose I could be prouder of them, but I think I would blow up.

My wonderful brother, Marvin, and his spectacular wife, Sharon Kamowitz, rode in the Pan Mass Challenge for the first time last year and raised a nice sum of money for the Dana Farber Cancer Institute. Both of them lost a spouse to cancer and are completely dedicated to their training. This year they are back at it, training to make it from Wellesley all the way to Provincetown. If you've enjoyed any of these 100 entries, or even if you just hated them a little, I urge you to donate to their ride. Go to the Pan Mass Challenge website and plug in either name and you will be able to donate to their ride. If I find out nobody donated, I'll be forced to continue this blog!

At least three of the regular readers of these ramblings are currently engaged in serious health battles. Please know that I think of all of you often and I know you will prevail. You're all made of stuff that is stronger than anything I can fathom.

One of my goals in writing these entries was to keep Ada's memory alive. I share this goal with Ada's brother, Bob. Whenever he tells me I've succeeded, I feel incredibly gratified. So, with that in mind, I'd like to end these entries with the poem I read at Matt's wedding:

She Smiles

She smiles at the thought of this delightful pair.

She smiles and we feel that smile everywhere.

It's there on Audrey's shoulder; it's in her sunkissed hair;

It's floating on dear Matt's lapel, this smile that's everywhere.

She smiles to see her family, together in one place;

She smiles to see the look of love quite clear on Matthew's face.

She smiles to see the Hagans, such gracious, pleasant hosts;

She smiles as she's remembered in this and other toasts.

She's smiles at this lame poet, at Nancy by his side,

At Josh and Cindy and those twins; no smile was e'er so wide.

So it behooves us all to smile and praise this joyous match,

And say to Matt, in baseball terms, “Willy Mays never made such a catch!”

Thanks for everything,

Much love to you and yours,
Here's that one good sunset picture I've been promising you:

Life sure is grand!
J

An Interview with Vivian Louise Brown: June 2013

Vivian Louise Brown is a five-year-old West Highland Terrier. She currently resides with her mom, Nancy, and this lame blogger in one of the Beachwalk Way town homes in the Sandestin resort, but would prefer something in the more upscale Burnt Pine neighborhood. She detests frogs.

Although she is normally wary of any publicity, Vivian recently consented to an interview. Her only condition was that there be no frogs present.

Good morning, Vivian. How are you feeling today?

Fine I suppose, although I do have a lot on my plate today.

Really? You mean you have some appointments lined up, that sort of thing?

No. In case you didn't notice, I'm a dog. We don't do appointments. For one thing, we don't understand time. To us an hour is the same as a day which is the same as a week or a month. Every time you walk in the door, it's as if I haven't seen you for one of those things I just mentioned, whichever one is the longest. When I just said I have a lot on my plate, I wasn't being figurative. I don't know how to do that. I just meant that there was some extra food on my plate and I'm going to have to deal with that.

You just said you don't understand time. Exactly what do you mean by that?

Wow! So this is what it's like to be interviewed by an idiot. It means exactly what you think it means. As a dog, I have no concept of the passage of time. When you say to me that you're going out and will be back in an hour, this is what I hear: “blah blah blah blah out!”

OK, why don't we talk about something you DO know about. How do you feel about squirrels?

Glad you asked. Frankly, I detest them. I wish they'd do something about them in my Beachwalk Way neighborhood. I hate the way they flaunt themselves; that pompous feeling of invulnerability they display. And I particularly hate their tails.

How do you express these frustrations?

The only way I know. I'll sit under their tree and bark non-stop until either the squirrel moves or you and Nancy force me back inside. I have no choice. That's the deal my people made with squirrels. They flick their tails at us and we bark at them.

Forgive me, but with all that barking, well, it sounds as though you're the annoying one, not the squirrel:

Next question.

Right. Let's talk about sleeping. It seems like you do quite a bit of that on a given day:  

Well, since I don't know what a day is, I'm not sure how to respond. All I know is that your town home has lots of cushions, and pillows, and soft, warm, elevated places, so I take advantage of the comforts available to me. I mean after all I am a dog. Nobody is depending on me to solve the world's problems. I have no other place I need to be on a given day. And while we're on the subject, it seems to me like you are quite a napper yourself. A regular Joel van Winkle!

Very funny:

Hey, if you don't like the answer, don't ask the question.

Fair enough. You said something about elevated places. What do you mean?

Well, there is no doubt that I am short. Compared to you, I'm tiny. Even when you compare me to other dogs I'm on the low end of the spectrum. So my people have developed the habit of climbing up onto high ledges whenever possible so that we can appear to be taller than we really are. I think it's the same deal as your people buying SUV's. Call it vanity if you like, but I like the view from up there.

I see. When you're up there sleeping on top of the sofa cushions, do you ever have dreams?

Sure.

What do you dream about?

Squirrels.

Got it. What about taking a walk? Do you enjoy that?

How can I put this? To me, taking a walk is one of greatest events I could ever hope to experience. Maybe you've noticed my excitement when someone even mentions the word “walk”. Oh, and while we're on the subject, I know how to spell w-a-l-k, so you can stop that tired old ruse. When I hear that word,  I just can't seem to control myself. Here it is in a nutshell (pun intended): The best thing that could ever happen to me is for a squirrel to fall out of a tree. The second best thing is to take a walk. Period.

What do you like about these walks?

What don't I like? I mean the fresh air, a chance to experience new things. I've always felt that travel broadens the mind. Why just the other day Nancy and I were on a walk and we met a cute little Pekinese. I believe you would say we had a moment, whatever that is. She taught me how to say “Hello” in Chinese.

Terrific. How do you say that?

Ruff.

Very funny.

It's an old joke but still a good one.

So what else do you like about these walks?

Well, Sandestin is a really beautiful place with lots of little ponds, great bird life, that beach I can't go on, plenty of other dogs, even these weird people who golf.

Yes, as you know, I'm a golfer myself. Why do you refer to golfers as “weird people”?

What else would you call them? I mean they spend their time trying to make a hard little ball go from here to there and when it finally goes in that cup, they fish it out and do it all over again. Not for nothing, but I've seen a lot of them get as mad at that ball as I get at the squirrels. Look, I enjoy chasing a ball around as much as the next guy, but there's a limit. And you don't see any of my people grousing about handicaps.

Let's change the subject.

Hey, you brought it up. And we haven't even gotten to the expense. I mean between buying the latest driver, and the best golf bag, and losing all those Nassau bets, I imagine you spend about...

Wait. I thought you didn't understand money.

I don't. I just know that whatever it is, you spend a lot of it on golf. Why just the other day Nancy was saying that...

What did Nancy say?

Oops. I think we'd better conclude this interview before I cause a domestic dispute.

Fine. Anything else you'd like to add?

Well, I don't want to get overly sentimental. It's not in my nature. I mean after all I'm not some kind of slobbering retriever or setter. I'm a terrier and we're nothing if not stoic. But, I just want to take this opportunity to let everyone know that living in Sandestin with you and Nancy has been...tolerable. And I'm happy to say that I have consented to stay with you for at least another dog year.

Gee, thanks.

Don't mention it.