Day 3129: Be a Good Human

Yesterday, while I was trying to be a good human on National Ice Cream Sundae Day, I saw this in our old neighborhood of Belmont:

It struck me that the sellers of those signs believed that I would be a good human, because their outdoor display depended entirely on the honor system.

What do you think it takes to be a good human? Do you see any evidence of that in my other images from yesterday?

On National All or Nothing Day, here’s a great song about how to be a good human from the musical “Catch Me If You Can.”

Because I’m a good human, I’m also going to share the wonderful dancing from “Don’t Break the Rules.”

I try to be a good human every day by expressing my thanks and appreciation for all good humans everywhere, including YOU!

Day 2756: Block Party

Yesterday, when my son Aaron and I were in Lexington, Massachusetts, we attended a block party.  Not the usual block party, but an Artwalk Block Party, in which store windows displayed painted and decorated blocks.

Speaking of nurturing creativity, Block Party is also a documentary film which follows comedian Dave Chappelle during the summer of 2004, ending in a block party he hosted in Brooklyn which featured musical artists including Erykah Badu, Mos Def,  Common, The Fugees, The Roots, and the Central State University Marching Band.  Here‘s Wyclef Jean asking members of the CSU marching band what they would do if they were President before he performed If I Was President”:

If any of them were President instead of our current one, I’d be celebrating with a block party.

Wanting to block our current President from getting a second term reminds me of this video from Republican Voters Against Trump:

That reminds me of my other photos from the same block in Lexington yesterday:

Aaron and I had our own socially distanced block party in Lexington yesterday, celebrating near this guy …

… with Cocoa Joel and Cake Batter ice cream from Rancatore’s.  I don’t have any photos of that celebration, but I do have these other photos from various blocks yesterday.

 

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After those walks around some blocks, Michael made us fish cakes with asparagus, turnips, and carrots.

Party!

I shall now invite you all to a commenting block party, below.

As always, I end each daily blog block party with gratitude for everyone who helps me party, including YOU.

Day 2184: What’s going on

Yesterday, when I was going on with my son to buy last-minute Christmas presents and cat food,  this sign was going on inside the Fresh Pond PetSmart in Cambridge, Massachusetts, USA:

What’s going on with you, dear readers?

Could it be the holidays?

What’s going on in my other photos from yesterday?

What’s going on as I end up this Christmas Eve post, with happiness about my almost six years of blogging about what’s going on?

Animals singing “The Twelve Days of Christmas” ….

… and lots of gratitude to all who help me capture what’s going on in these daily posts and — of course! — YOU.

 

Day 1965: Finding room for you, me and the stuff

Yesterday, in a welcoming room in Newton Massachusetts, I was finding this, among other stuff:

I love finding things, knowing that there’s always room for you, me and the stuff here.

Whatever stuff there is, it’s smart not to stuff it.  There’s room for you and me to express our stuff, no matter how smelly and improper that stuff might be. Don’t forget:  we can always choose to let our stuff go.

I’m now finding room for all the other stuff in yesterday’s photos.

I’m finding welcome room for my stuff here, even when I don’t know what it is (like the stuff in that last photo).

Here‘s room for George Carlin to talk about stuff.

You’ll be finding room for comments, below.

As always, I’m finding room for thanks to Newton, George Carlin, stuff, and YOU.

 

Day 1476: I haven’t been the same since …

When people get into therapy, they often say, “I haven’t been the same since …” and they name some life-changing event.

Personally, I haven’t been the same since …

• my first heart surgery at age 10,
• I got my first cat,
• I got my first car,
• I rode a bicycle for the first time,
• my heart valve replacement surgery last September,
• my son was born,
• my son went away to school in Scotland,
• my son returned home for Christmas,
• my son went back to school yesterday,
• I took my first disco dance lesson,
• I met my husband,
• my divorce,
• my cardiac pacemaker was recalled in 1975,
• my cardiac pacemaker/defibrillator was recalled two weeks after my valve replacement surgery in September,
• President John F. Kennedy was killed,
• Bobby Kennedy was killed,
• Martin Luther King was killed,
• John Lennon was killed,
• I went away to college,
• I was attacked by a rapist outside my apartment in Cambridge, Massachusetts,
• I first got into therapy,
• I went to film school,
• I became a therapist,
• Barack Obama was elected President of the United States,
• Donald Trump was elected President of the United States,
• I met my boyfriend Michael,
• I first saw Gene Kelly dance,
• I heard my first pun,
• I made my first pun,
• I attended Berklee School of Music for a summer program when I was in high school,
• I worked on the recruitment tape for Berklee College of Music in the 1990s,
• I did stand-up comedy at an Open Mic,
• my son performed stand-up comedy at an Open Mic,
• I had my first cup of cocoa with marshmallows,
• my father died,
• my mother-in-law died,
• my mother died,
• my father-in-law died on Friday,
• I encountered Mexican food for the first time,
• I had my first black raspberry ice cream cone,
• I saw my first palm tree,
• I started blogging,
• I got my first comment on this blog,
• I bought my first personal computer during the 1980s,
• I wrote computer manuals in the 1970s,
• I slept out under the stars in Monument Valley,
• I went cross country by bus,
• I attended the Edinburgh Festival Fringe,
• I heard Pat Metheny play guitar,
• I sang in front of people,
• I met every person who is important to me,
• I saw my first Stephen Sondheim musical,
• I first heard the band Steely Dan over the sound system at a Cambridge store, playing this song …

• and countless other events.

I haven’t been the same since all those things happened and yet I’m still the same person.

I haven’t been the same since I took all these photos:

Give the happiness of a comment and I will end up happy.

I haven’t been the same since I first learned to express gratitude, so many thanks to all who helped me create today’s post and to you — of course! — for being changed and yet the same, every moment.

 

Day 1475: Pick One

Every day, I pick one topic I think will be helpful for me and my readers. Often, I pick one photo from the day before for inspiration.

Notice that staff at cardiac rehab is telling me to pick one exercise — either the BioStep or the Stationary Bike.  The first day they told me to pick one, I didn’t notice that instruction, and I did both exercises. If I had to pick one thing to say about that, I’d say that doing both exercises didn’t hurt.

With all that’s been happening lately, if I had to pick one book to read, it would probably be this one:

I couldn’t pick one photo of that book cover, so I included all three. That last photo reminds me that I’m trying to pick one seaside location for our next home. I’d like to pick one home that fits our needs for the next decade.

If you had to pick one photo that’s your favorite from this post, which would it be?

If I had to pick one song for this post, I guess it would be this one:

If you had to pick one guy who reminded you of Captain Hook, who would it be?

I can’t pick one person to thank, so thanks to all who helped me create today’s post and to you — of course! — for picking this one blog to visit, here and now.

Day 874: Find a Stillness

Last night, my boyfriend Michael and I went to a jazz event called “Celebrating The Great American Songbook” at a Lexington, Massachusetts church. While we were waiting for it to begin, Michael and I found this:

Earlier in the day, I was able to find a stillness and a description of last night’s event:

When I read that, I found a stillness and an excitement about seeing the amazing Lee Konitz, in person.

Before the event, I was able to find all these (and a stillness) in Lexington, Massachusetts, with Michael:

                                                    

That’s one of the organizers of “Celebrating the Great American Songbook,” breaking the stillness before the performance to tell us that Lee Konitz would not be appearing. A moment later, I found a stillness when he announced that the performers would include the amazing drummer Terri Lyne Carrington.

Here’s the memory I found, in that stillness:

Two decades ago, when I was in my first year of social work school (transitioning from a career in marketing and advertising), Berklee College of Music asked me to create a video for an event celebrating a big anniversary for the school. The narrator for that little documentary I created for Berklee was Terri Lyne Carrington.

I found a stillness last night as I listened to the terrific music and wondered if Terri Lyne had any memory of our working together, so long ago.

       

I found a stillness and a joy when Terri Lyne’s father, Sonny Carrington (left), was invited up from the audience to scat-sing to the last number, a Charlie Parker tune.

After the wonderful performance, I found a stillness to wait for Terri Lyne and to remind her about the voice-over she had provided — in the stillness of a Berklee College of Music recording studio — so many years ago. Terri Lyne found the stillness and grace to tell me she had some distant memories of that experience.

After I spoke with Terri Lyne, I found this stillness, in the church:

About a half- hour later, I was able to find a stillness and some Malt Hydrox ice cream:

When I got home, I found a stillness, but not the photo I have of Terri Lyne Carrington and me at that long-ago Berklee anniversary celebration.

Someday, I’ll find that photo and the videotape I created for Berklee, both still in the stillness of my home, somewhere.

Will I find that photo and video today, in the stillness of this beautiful Sunday in May? I find a stillness, here and now, to say “Time will tell.”

Here‘s something else I just found, very easily, in the stillness of YouTube:

That shows you how Terri Lyne Carrington has been bursting through stillness with her incredible drumming, from a very young age. And I can find a stillness to tell you she is still doing that, today!

Now, I find a stillness to thank Beverly (who told me about “Celebrating the Great American Songbook” yesterday), Michael, Terri Lyne Carrington, Sonny Carrington, Dr. Lewis Porter, Gary Bartz (on saxophone), the bass player last night (whose name I still can’t remember), Charlie Parker, the great American songbook,  Lexington Massachusetts, Lexington Community Education, Rancatore’s Ice Cream, Berklee College of Music, Arsenio Hall, the creator of the hymn “Find a Stillness,” and you — of course! — for finding a stillness (I hope), today.

Day 873: Just Deserts

I just looked up “just deserts,” because I believe we all deserve a good definition today.

According to wiktionary, “just deserts” means:

A punishment or reward that is considered to be what the recipient deserved.

Wiktionary also believes we deserve to know this:

Usage notes

• Deserts here is the plural of desert, meaning “that which one deserves.” “Desert” is now archaic and rarely used outside this phrase.

• The spelling just desserts is non-standard. It is sometimes used as a pun in, for example, restaurant names.

Synonyms

• payback, poetic justice, comeuppance

Now that you’ve read through that definition, how about the just deserts of some of my photography from yesterday?

                    

                      

At this point in my day yesterday,  I realized that just deserts, for me, included some delicious ice cream.

Your just deserts include knowing that Boston Massachusetts USA is  just desert-ly famous for offering delicious ice cream  all year round (despite the harsh winters,  which are NOT just deserts for its many residents).

However, I did not get my just deserts in Boston yesterday, because — no matter where I looked — delicious ice cream was just not to be found.

While searching for my just deserts — and  encountering  a veritable desert of ice cream — I saw all this:

              

  

 

 
      

 

… but no ice cream, which I found particularly ridiculous, because I was mostly searching on

… and wasn’t Louis Pasteur somebody who helped us all get our just deserts of ice cream?

I believe that, as human beings, our just deserts include help from others, especially  when we’re trying to get our needs met. Therefore, I asked Robert …

… from

… why I was having so much trouble getting my just deserts of ice cream, especially in an area with so many hospitals, where people justly deserved that kind of comfort. Robert  told me the only place to get ice cream nearby was

I then replied, justly (I believe), that our just deserts included better ice cream than that. When Robert agreed with me, I suggested he open up an ice cream place and get his just deserts of lots of money, but Robert thinks he won’t get his just deserts that way.  Here’s Robert

offering me the just desert of some ice cream he would keep frozen at Beantown Burrito just for me.

I don’t think I deserve that!

Here are more just deserts I deserved to see yesterday, after my work day was done:

                  

While I didn’t get my just desert of ice cream after lunch yesterday, I DID get that just desert after dinner, last night.

Which of those just deserts do you think I — or you — might deserve?

What music do you think would be a just desert for this post?

This was a musical just desert for me, yesterday, as I was snapping some of the photos for this Just Deserts post:

The first three words of “Mammal” by They Might Be Giants are

Glass of milk.

Is that not a just desert?

Just deserts to Louis Pasteur, Robert, the Longwood Medical and Fenway Park areas of Boston, Rancatore’s Ice Cream, They Might Be Giants, Katie Cunningham for the “Mammal” video, and everybody else whose just deserts include gratitude from me, including you!