You know, even at my advanced age, I *still* like to believe that people are basically good at heart. I like to think that the physician's credo, "First, do no harm," is a valuable guideline for any kind of social interaction. I try to live by "do unto others as you would have others do unto you."

Unfortunately, believing the best of others isn't the safest way to go through life. A recent encounter on a friend's lj graphically reminded me there are sociopaths out there who get their kicks by harassing other people. Some of them are children who have nothing better to do, and who haven't learned any better. Some of them apparently have lives so empty of positive interaction that they believe the default for fun is bullying and harassment. Some of them just are socially clueless. Some of them fancy themselves elitist.

What a way to live.

But they're out there. And so, sadly, on the advice of others (advice I've resisted before now, but have finally [reluctantly] decided to heed) I am going "friends only." If anyone wants to friend me, I'll be glad to reciprocate ... but I'll be reading your journal first.

Jimmy Buffett once sang, "I don't want to swim in a roped-off sea." Unfortunately, there *are* sharks out there. They're mindless, clueless, reflexively reactive creatures. Guess I need the ropes ... at least until some of the rest of the world learns to grow up and act like intelligent and productive and worthwhile human beings.

I suspect it's gonna be a long wait....

Tomorrow I will clean out my cooler and fill it with ice, two bottles of Korbel champagne, some cheese, and a zip-lock bag of chocolate. I will stuff a canvas bag with crackers, pistachio nuts, and my travel water bottle. (Gotta have enough to share with the neighbors!)

I will don my Pirate Parrots of the Caribbean t-shirt, my Key West jewelry, and my parrothead concert necklace (the one I made, with 200-year-old blue-green trade beads, ceramic and glass conch shells and limes, a manatee and a parrot, two old coral beads bought at Ron Jon's in Cocoa Beach in 1968, and a brass Jolly Roger).

I will climb in my car and make a three-hour drive to a suburb of Chicago, to a place I have never been, and pull into a parking lot filled with other parrotheads.

Tomorrow will mark 31 years of attending Jimmy Buffett concerts. I think I've missed four summers in all that time; once because of an untimely appendectomy, one year when I was just too broke, and two years when cross-country moves put me in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I made up for those missed concerts when I was able to see him two or three times in the same year.

So, why is a 56-year-old woman still a hula girl at heart? Why am I about to spend eight hours in a parking lot and a stadium full of strangers to watch a show I've seen over and over again?

It's a good question, with no single answer. What does Buffett's music mean to me ... why has it been a mainstay in my life since I bought my first album (yes, vinyl with a hole in the middle) back in the summer of 1976?

Lets see. Warm winds, salty water, palm trees, sandy beaches. Swamps, Spanish moss, and live oaks. Boats, big and small. Sunsets and sunrises. Seafood and barbeque. Mimosas and margaritas and white wine and watching a mojito being made. Water birds and parrots and macaws. Bridges and tree swings. Small bars and sand bars. Guitars, ukeleles, steel drums. Oceans and rivers. Loud shirts and loud crowds and quiet moments in an adirondack chair or on a bar stool. The excitement of travelling and the joy of kicking back at home. Friends who are family, and family who are also close friends.

You *can't* go to a Buffett concert and be in a crowd of strangers. You might not like everyone around you (especially when someone hits you in the head with a huge inflated shark, or spills their beer down your back) but overall, you won't find a better crowd of people to not be alone in. %-)

Earlier this year, a website called Meet the Phlockers (www.meetthephlockers.com) started up. It's based on the MySpace model, but it's for parrotheads. The have a continuous slide show of photos uploaded by members. Maybe this will give you a feel for the kind of pholks I'll be phlocking with tomorrow.


Find more photos like this on Meet the Phlockers


So, thank you Jimmy Buffett, for all the great years, all the wonderful music and memories and trips and toys and, most of all, the friends who are now family. See ya tomorrow ... again!

I got this from my brother this a.m. Even the music is nice.

And I kindasorta needed an awwww ... maybe you do too. %-)

http://www.maniacworld.com/twin-baby-moose-in-sprinkler.html

GreenWoman

I shared champagne and peaches from the farmer's market with Clancy this afternoon. We weeded together (okay, I weeded, and Clancy chirped at me for making him walk down my back and back up again) and then I cut up a peach from the market, dropped the pieces in a glass, and sat out on the porch with Clancy to view the semi-weeded east garden.

Who knew that a parrot could be a kid, a soul-mate, and a drinking buddy?

So the mosquitos and the dark finally drove us in, and my mother is watching Brokeback Mountain, which she's never seen and I've seen half a dozen times ... and it still makes me cry when Ennis finds his shirt covered by Jack's, and I'm tearing up.

Rats. Should have gone to bed before this part. I'd much rather remember Heath Ledger for Ennis than for the Riddler ... but I still wanted to slap Ennis silly. %-/

So I'll end this pointless semi-impaired post with Clancy sweetness.

"Yes, my face is a can opener, but I won't use it on you because I love you." %-)

I'm finally back online after two weeks, due to the home machine having issues with its graphics card (for other computer dummies [like me] that means your monitor tells you it's not talking to the brain).

So, I'm sharing pictures! Of my garden, and my new car. Both are pretty, and miracles, and beloved.

First, the garden ... some pretty pics that do not in any way reflect the sweat equity that went into the beautimousness.

Pic heavy, so I'm (I think) inserting an lj cut....

( GreenWoman's Garden.... )

And now ... the new car.

I hadn't even thought of doing this ... I never expected to own even *one* new car in my life, much less a second ... but it was my mother and sister who urged me to. I *LOVED* my old Mutineer (named after my favorite Warren Zevon song). But I went in and they offered me an amazing trade-in for a much better, safer, and spiffier new version of the VUE (the original Mutineer was the first model year). It's easier for my mother to get in and out of, has a deeper cargo bay, and lots of new bells and whistles that made it very attractive; plus, the old car was paid off and the new one had payments significantly lower, and a *great* warranty. This is the fourth car my family (my sister and myself, my mother, and my niece) have bought from Saturn, and they've always been great cars and great people to deal with.

Yeah, there's the color thing.

Because I insisted on a moon roof and a trailer hitch, they offered me a limited selection of colors; black (no way), blue (no way), red (not a pretty red), and orange. Orange? %-0

But my friends kept saying, "You're a tropical artist now, you need a tropical color."

( So behold, the new Mutineer ... the Mango Mutineer! )

As Warren Zevon sang, "My ride's here." %-)

I had to take my beloved black tabby Nick to the vet today, to send him on his way.

Over ten years ago, my sister and I went to a local Humane Society event. We had plenty of rescues under our roof already ... we thought we would just buy food and toys and that would be our contribution to the little beings who are always the last to be thought of.

Foolish us.

There, in a tiny cage together, were two kittys ... Nick, a black tabby, and Katie, his tiger sister. They were already ten years old and the sign on the cage said, "We have never been apart; please adopt us both." Katie was curled up next to her brother, with her head on his back.

Marcia and I made it all the way to the door of the mall before going back. After all, who else would be stoopid enough to adopt two senior cats with skin problems TOGETHER?

Only us.

Well, they had a good long happily spoiled run. But Nick (also known as Nick the Stick), always thin, had reduced to less than five pounds and was crying at night. It was time. I took him in today, and held him as he moved on to whatever is next. I'm taking Katie in next Tuesday; she might be able to stay with us a while longer, but I have no expectations of coming home with her in the carrier.

We do what we can. We loved Nick and Katie for over a decade ... tonight I will sleep without him on my bed for the first time in more than ten years. I hope he is at peace and happy and no longer hurting, and that his sister will find him when it's her turn.

The stewardship of an animal is a rewarding and bitter trust. I miss Nick, and hope to see him again.

Tonight, though, I'll know that his spot on my bed is empty, and have a hard time sleeping.

GreenWoman

I can't believe this man is gone. I know enough, after years in the film and tv industry, to differentiate between actor and role; still, his character always seemed a safe haven for my beloved Daniel of Stargate ... even when everyone else, including Jack, turned away. Davis also just recently did a wonderful turn on Supernatural.

Sail on, DSD. Thank you so much for the iconic character and the wonderful performances. I will love and miss you always.

GreenWoman

We've just had a couple of hard weeks here, with flood cleanup and losses, and my mother coming home from the nursing facility after four months, and dealing with those bills that just won't stop coming.

So, I felt in need of a happy place today.

Fortunately, I have a friend from my Jimmy Buffett/parrothead life who has a fun blog. He is a musician in a zydeco-ish band that plays in the Fort Myers FL area. He's a talented and funny guy who has recently taken up kayak fishing in the FM area, and I've been really enjoying his blog on the subject, which is *full* of gorgeous photos, many of which are of places I get to see once a year and love. (If you'd like to read his blog, go here

http://yakdog.blogspot.com/

for the current stuff; scroll back for the older posts.

One of Tarv's favorite places is Bonita Bills, a waterfront bar/restaurant that serves live-aboards and landlubbers alike. Tarv took me there one afternoon the first year I drove down to Florida for Meeting of the Minds, and I fell in love with the place.

Today, a pic he took of the place from the water side popped up on my screensaver. It looked so inviting; I wanted to be back there, sipping a glass of wine and watching for manatees and tarpon rolling in the boat slip.

So for all of us who've been having sucky lives of late, here's a mini-vacation. Thanks, Tarv. %-)

Such sad news; in my view, a tremendous loss to both the journalists' community and we who they serve. Russert always struck me as a rarity in broadcast journalism; he was ethical, knowledgeable, even-handed, politely aggressive and insightful in his interviewing, and enthusiastic about his job and the American political system.

I will certainly miss him.

This post is just a bit of musing re something that happened to me on lj this morning and which bothers me enough that I'm at work with some time on my hands and find it's generating a long gripe. So I'm sharing. Sorry ... you don't have to keep reading. %-)

I was somewhat reluctant to join lj, but friends and acquaintances on various fannish mailing lists kept encouraging me. So I joined and found myself confronted with the issue of "friending." A number of people friended me right away; I knew some of them because their lj names were also their screen/e-mail names, but many I didn't recognize (although presumeably they knew me). I felt guilty because I wasn't friending everyone back; I didn't want to get overwhelmed with more computer obligations, and many people I just didn't know or recognize.

But most of the same people who urged me into lj assured me that it wasn't rude to not co-friend everyone who friend me, so I tried to relax about it.

This morning I found a post on my friends list (not someone who I know or recognize from elsewhere) saying they were cleaning up their lj and discarding a lot of people who they had friended, but (and I'm paraphrasing here, because of course the post is now gone from my friends list) "they didn't friend me back, so I'm guessing they didn't care to be here in the first place." They then went on to assure us discards that "it's not personal."

Okay.

I went to their profile to try to find out who was cleaning me out of their lj and found the names of some common friends and interests. Their profile said right off the top something along the lines of, "I believe in friending; it's the best thing about lj. I'll probably friend you if we have common interests; please don't be afraid of me because I'm really an all right guy," or some such grouping of words.

So, here's someone who:

a) seems to be declaring that friending is part of the wonderfullness that is lj,

b) declares that they will friend you whether you know them or not, or refriend them or not,

c) then discards you with the sweetly polite (not) "guess you didn't want to be here in the first place," a phrase guaranteed to make me feel like an insensitive jerk for never having reciprocated the original friending,

d) then assures you that it's nothing personal.

Well, that sure makes me feel better. Here's someone who appeared on my friends list out of nowhere, but whose unsolicited friending I didn't "clean" out of my own lj, yet who now without any effort at all on my part, I have apparently offended or miffed or at least wasted the time of enough to have earned a little notice of "cleaning you out because you apparently didn't want to be here." Someone I don't even know (or don't think I know). And yet it bugs me.

I'm probably being overly sensitive. But I think it could have been put in a better way; perhaps a simple, "I'm going over my list of friends and friended you because _____; would you like to stay or not?" Or why not drop off my lj as unexpectedly as you appeared, without a gripey little comment like "guess you didn't care enough to friend me back"?

Ah well. I'm glad her lj has been cleaned out of bothersome loiterers like me.

GreenWoman

I finally got my MediaWestCon pictures up. If you are so inclined, you can see them at:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenwoman/sets/72157605548387877

Sadly, I'm still learning how to use my new camera, so while I took *lots* of photos, not as many came out as I would like. But Richard, the manager at the hotel restaurant, did a great slide show that you can see on YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9aUm7f-0Z0w

So, if you're totally bored and want to see me in all my fannish geekiness, check out the pictures. At least Clancy looks good in them! %-)

Gads. We are under *another* tornado watch ... the fifth or sixth in less than three days ... until 1:00 a.m., and a flash flood watch too. And there is apparently a tornado on the ground in a county about sixty miles north of us.

It's going to be a long night.

At least if we get water in the basement again, most of the stuff that we could move is now off the floor.

But I surely do wish this would stop....

We had severe storms in our area of central Illinois yesterday.

It started early yesterday morning when we woke up to a vigorous lightning and thunderstorm. My sister and I took the world's fastest showers, hoping not to be fried in the tub, cautioned my friend Mattie who has her room down in our basement to watch the weather, and went to work.

Two vicious storms later, we made our way home to benign weather. I took Clancy out on the porch and sat with him for a while, came inside and watched a bit of TV and ate dinner, when the weather got bad again.

The Springfield station weatherman had a total hard-on for the crisis. They have a very elaborate computer weather presentation system, and he was taking full advantage. And the giant red and orange splotches on the OURS IS BIGGER THAN YOURS SO YOU SHOULD PAY ATTENTION TO US RADAR made it pretty clear we were in trouble.

After switching between BIG DICK RADAR and WE ARE SENSITIVE TO THE SITUATION BUT WILL NOT COMPLETELY INTERRUPT YOUR PROGRAMMING weather on our local Champaign station, we started gathering purses, car keys, papers, jewelry, and animals; the tornado sirens went off about 9:00 and we grabbed stuff and critters and sat in the basement until almost 10:30 before we finally got the all clear.

Which was really not all clear ... it stormed fiercely all night, with much lightning, thunder, and hard rain, finally clearing up a bit around 3:00 am.

This morning we woke up to 1 to 4 inches of water in our basement, depending upon which of the four rooms you were in. Dammit.

I called in to work and spent the day with Mattie moving stuff, trying to shopvac up the worst of the water, doing laundry, throwing stuff out, pulling up carpet, going up and down the stairs a million times. My legs and back are aching, our trash cans are full, and tomorrow and the next few days will be more of the same; we can't really afford a cleaning service and manly young men to clean up the mess, but will have to do it ourselves.

We lost many things of real and sentimental value. I lost a lot in the Northridge earthquake back in 1994, so I've been through this sort of thing before, but it was hard for Mattie who lost much of her material world to the water.

It's a pretty depressing day here.

GreenWoman, who is still reminding myself that we didn't lose our house, or our cars, or any of our animals....

I must credit urdsama, who did this great icon; I don't know urdsama, but the site said that folks could borrow it, with accredation (sp?) so I did. I love it.

On a small Supernatural list of which I am a member, following some discussion about John Winchester and his parenting methods (dubious, IMHO), someone posed the question:

What would the boys be like if they had been raised by Bobby?

Naturally, this sent me right to my happy Supernatural place. ;-) So, fer them as cares, here are my thoughts:

I think Sam would have gone to Stanford; would have even been encouraged to go. I think Bobby would have guided Sam toward a major in sociology, or perhaps a double major adding history, with a focus on mythology, folklore, cryptozoology (right word?), and related areas of study. Bobby would have sent him off to school with encouragement, support (both financial and emotional), a rich knowledge of how to protect himself born of Bobby's own private education, phone numbers of local "resources" in the area, and frequent visits by Bobby and/or Dean. I think Sam would have been every bit as safe, probably safer, having been raised by Bobby and in close touch with Bobby and Dean after he left for school.

Bobby would have brought Dean into the salvage business, and they would have hunted together. Dean would have been encouraged to explore his own individual talent for research and identification of potential problems/jobs. He would be in constant touch with Sam, and they would visit and consult each other frequently, possibly going on weekend hunts together. Dean could have pursued and perfected his talent as a mechanic, opening a door to a life not totally defined by hunting. He would also have developed into a smarter, more skilled, more knowledgeable, more confident, and more effective hunter under Bobby's tutelage than he had any chance of becoming with John.

Both boys would have learned much more, much earlier, about both the supernatural world and the greater world around them. They would have enjoyed modest but comfortable financial security, a stable home environment and education, and constant positive (if crusty) reinforcement of their abilities and their choices. Sam would have endured no guilt over reaching out for a better life, and Dean would be encouraged to love and support and protect his brother, but not at the cost of his own life and self-esteem.

If the boys were with Bobby because John had surrendered them but was still around, I am sure that Bobby would have encouraged as much interaction with their father as possible. However, I suspect he would have zero qualms about keeping John in line during his visits. ;-) Dean would have enjoyed many opportunities to hunt with his father, possibly with Bobby along, sometimes without, but as a hunting partner who was a self-assured equal team player, not a needy apprentice riddled with self-doubt and crippled by limited knowledge. And John would have had a stable domestic environment to which he could turn, and return, when he needed help, support, healing, or simply refuge from the brutal, bitter, and soul-sucking quest to which he had committed himself.

I suspect Sam and Dean would have also seen a good bit more of other hunters in the community, especially those who Bobby admired and felt were good examples for the boys.

I'm not painting Bobby as a saint, here. It would have been tough love, advice and education and "parenting" without any padded corners or much sentimentality. No doubt Bobby would have gone on hunting trips alone when the boys were young; however, I suspect the norm would have been for him to have some trusted friend move into the house to watch the boys more often than dragging them along behind him.

And there would have been benefits for Bobby, too. I think that Bobby may have rediscovered the life he'd once planned on when he married. It may have happened slowly, but I think that holidays would have been observed, graduations and school triumphs celebrated, and friendships and eventually dating allowed and even encouraged a bit, although with care. I believe that Bobby would have mellowed without losing his toughness, learned to nurture without losing his edge, and enjoyed hunting with Dean and Sam instead of doing so alone.

I think all of them ... Bobby, Dean, and Sam (and maybe even John) ... would have had better, richer, safer, and more productive lives if John had surrendered the boys and Bobby had been willing to take them.

I'm sure many folks won't agree ... as I said, this is my own personal happy Supernatural contemplation. %-)

GreenWoman

"Bobby is love...."

Joe Pevney ... Bob Justman ... Alexander Courage. Three names that mean so much to old first-generation trekkies (and I use that name proudly) like me.

Pevney ... a director's director ... a journeyman who cared about his work, with a sense of humor and a love for the work that showed through in every episode that made it's way to us with the guidance of his talented hand and heart.

Justman ... probably as responsible as Roddenberry for what Trek came to mean to we who loved it so.

Alexander Courage ... who, possibly to his regret but to our reverence, will forever be linked to a piece of music that can still tighten the throat and bring tears to our eyes. And I always loved his name ... I used to make up stories about the hero Alexander Courage and his sidekick, Chance Greatness.

All three will be missed. So too will Sidney Pollack, Harvey Korman, and Dick Martin ... but as a first-generation Trekkie (and proud of that label) I will miss those three who gave us a vision beyond our dreams when we were kids back in 1967.

Sail on, all of you beloved ghosts ....

GreenWoman

The physicality of some beloved film history has passed on, as I suppose we all must. Still, I hope some of you might take a moment to think on the ghosts who have left their best behind in the places that went up in flames, let them know that they are remembered, and that the spaces that held their memories are revered and mourned.

I know ... they're only movies, they're only tv shows ... but they are *stories* that have touched us and moved us, and those before and behind the camera who created and delivered those tales to our hearts and memories are deserving of our best wishes.

I've walked those streets before, in past years, and keep my own memories. I hope some of you can spare a moment to honor lost places that have such an honored history.

Wistfully,
GreenWoman

I have just learned that Jim Beaver is returning for the first and second episodes of Supernatural's season four.



I know, I know, this shot isn't from Supernatural, but he sure looks like Bobby to me. %-)

Someone noted once, "Bobby is love." I am so very glad he will be back.

GreenWoman, whose day is made....

Warning ... drooling fan girl convention report follows. ;-)

( GreenWoman's MWC Nattering )

But I'm already looking forward to next year ... so is Clancy!

GW, unapologetic fan-geek and a happy, if exhausted, camper tonight ....

... and won't be back until Monday.

Fer them as don't know, MWC is a small, fan-run convention for media fen. It started back in the 80s as a Star Trek/Star Wars con, but has since grown to encompass movies, TV shows, and books of all genres. No celebrity guests (although from time to time we've been pleased to have an actor join us for the weekend for the fun of it), but lots and lots of discussion panels, a masquerade, fanfic awards, a dealer's room, an outtasite art show and auction, and a chance for folks who generally only get to socialize by typing to actually get together face-to-face and celebrate their favorite obsessions.

I've been going since 1981, with a few years missed during the decades.

For years my niece came with me, which was fun because the hotel is completely taken over by the con; I could let a kid run free as long as she didn't leave the hotel and checked in with me every hour. Lots of kids come; lots of pets, too. My parrot Clancy is coming this year, and I feel like I'm travelling with a kid again! Five days, and I have a suitcase; Clancy has a tote bag with his collapsible cage, a tote bag with toys, perches, swing, and dishes for the collapsible cage, the car carrier and dishes for the car carrier, his harness, his diaper suit and diapers, food, peanuts, and a cover for the cage. Poor little guy doesn't know what's in store, but he'll probably have fun; atypically for a parrot, he loves meeting new people and going to new places.

I'm doing panels on old and new fandoms this year, including Firefly, Magnificent Seven, the Poppy Brite Liquor Books, and my newest love, Supernatural (including a panel on the awesome Bobby Singer). Attending panels on Man From UNCLE, Lord of the Rings, Sentinel, Stargate, and all the other usual suspects. And my annual mini-phlocking with a fellow Jimmy Buffett phan ... I love it when fandoms collide! %-)

So, we shall hit the road tomorrow morning pre-6:30 a.m. This is my very favorite convention, and since I missed last year due to unexpected surgery, I'm beyond hapy to be back on the road to Lansing this year.

See y'all there, or later!

GreenWoman

I'm devastated, ecstatic, totally undermined ... I know, I know, it's just a TV show, but as is always true when writers do their job well, these people are *family* and I care so deeply about them.

( Warning ... here there be totally juvenile fangirl blathering.... )

I'll cope.

GreenWoman