WOODSTOCK

 So music camp ended this morning but Gary and I decided to hang in Woodstock at another hotel tonight because Julie et al are playing a sold out show here.

We drove around 30 miles to the center of town, which is all kinds of hippie charming, and Julie texted us to meet her at a really cool vegan restaurant where we could eat with Jasper.

We’re at our table sipping tea when I look up and who is standing there right in front of me waiting to grab a seat.

Neil Fucking Gaiman.

“Hi, Neil!”

“Robin?”

(I refer you to my blog and short stories for my Neil Gaiman history)

“Yep, we’re in town blah blah blah Julie has show here tonight blah blah blah. This is Julie obviously and this is my husband, Gary.”

Gary’s like, “Hey, Neil!”

Neil turns to Julie.

“You’re the drummer, right?”

“No, that’s my brother, Eric.  I play bass.”

“Nice!  Right after lunch I have to pick my son up at the School of Rock.  He’s taking drum lessons, or trying.”

Omg, Neil’s six year old son is following in my kids’ footsteps har har har.

What are the odds? 😜

So that’s my story, everyone around me was all impressed I’m friendly with Neil, and who knows, maybe he’ll show up at Julie’s gig tonight.

Last night

Last night Eric joined the Adrian Belew Power Trio in Nashville for their encore.

Mind blown.

Also, it was Christmas in July for me when both kids FaceTimed from Eric’s house ❤️  (They showed up dressed alike in yellow t-shirts which has been happening their entire lives)

A Fish Story

 

So in our 50+ years together as childhood sweethearts, Gary and I have a lot of stories, but much to Gary’s hilarity, I have attributed one of his finest moments to myself. This pic is from 40 years ago, note Gary’s anti-Reagan t-shirt.  Somehow I’ve been telling people I caught that fish.  

Today I tried to tell Gary that, and he looked at me incredulously and insisted that he was the one.  

I actually argued it was me, and told him there was a pic of me in a drawer upstairs holding the fish and wearing an anti-Reagan t-shirt.

Anyway, neither one of us can stop laughing right now.  I hope all of you are starting your day likewise ❤️❤️❤️

Morning!

 GOOD MORNING!

Happy Independence Day

 

FAKE HOLIDAY!!!

Thanks, Donald.  Thanks illegitimate Nacho Supreme Court.

Postscript

 

So I knew when I was posting last night I should have waited until after my eye appointment this morning to say the worst was behind me.  I totally jinxed myself but no worries, I don’t like graphic health descriptions on Blogger and I’m too traumatized to talk about it, anyway.  Gah!  Why why why do I always go in oblivious with no symptoms and leave with a dire unexpected diagnosis?  Oh yeah, I am old.  I got the memo, goddess, go bother someone else now.  I’m going to have a bowl of (non dairy) ice cream and listen to records.  If anyone needs me, I’ll be at the beach.  Not even joking. 😎

Hey, what’s up?

Hey, how’s everyone doing?

I’m going to admit to being really down about what’s happening in our country and honestly, I need to delete my Twitter account. Whatever is going to happen is going to happen whether I’m monitoring things or not so I’m sorry, I can’t “stay awake on the plane” for everyone else anymore.

I’m gonna try and enjoy my summer.  We have some cool travel plans.

So somehow an entire year has passed since I retired and I was going to write a whole post about that but nah.  It’s been a weird time and I’ve had some unexpected medical woes to deal with but on the plus side, I have a shitty first draft of a new novel called The Crazy House and I’ve already begun to torture myself about sending queries and finding a new agent.

I know the drill but I’m old now.  I don’t want rejection, I don’t want to wait 3 years for it to be published, and I sure as hell don’t want to attend any sales meetings.

To my writer friends who actually do those things, you have my highest respect.  After decades of being in this business, I now know writing the book is sometimes the easiest part of this process.

Or not.

I’m thinking after I’m happy with it and hire an editor, I’m just going to publish it chapter by chapter on Medium or somewhere like that.

But we’ll see.  

Speaking of books, I’m lucky enough to be reading an advance copy of my pal Ellen Meister’s new book, Take My Husband.

Oh my god.

I’m really enjoying this one and I’ll have a lot more to say when I’m finished reading.

But for now, if you want to pre-order it, here’s a link:

Take My Husband: A Novel
https://www.amazon.com/dp/0778309878/ref=cm_sw_r_awdo_S68SACD75FNKA1Z53TW5

Pre-orders are everything to writers.

Cool?  Cool.

Yeah, so in other news, health stuff I do not want to talk about but everything is fine, except somehow the universe conspired against me, i.e., I put things on my iCalendar and then never look at it until I get an alert, and somehow I have a different doctor appointment every day this week except Friday, when I have a hair appointment.

Oh, my busy life.

Gary and I are now at the stage of our retirement where we ask ourselves daily, “How the hell did we do it?” How did we work full time, raise a family, coach little league, run business meetings 3-4 evenings a week (Gary), and be President of the Home and School Association for what felt like 10 years (me)?

Oh, and I served as an editor for 3 magazines, editor of two anthologies, and wrote 4 novels.

Good drugs.

Oh, I’m kidding.

Maybe. 😎

Nowadays we get exhausted just going food shopping.

Or doom scrolling on Twitter.

Anyway, so far so good at the doctor, the two scariest visits are behind me though knock wood, knock wood, I’m not taking anything for granted these days and I just realized the cataract doctor tomorrow could be scary because I’m always expecting doctors to say, “Hey, what’s that?” during routine visits because hey, it’s happened.

And to add to my angst, my last first cousin on my mother’s side, cousin Annie, died last month. My age, though 8 months older.  There were seven of us, now it’s down to 3 and naturally I realized, because I am insane, that we’re dying in age order.

Guess who’s next?

Oy.

Yeah, yeah, I know that’s not how it works but as I said, I’m nutz.  I’m not worried, but let’s just say I’m being pretty good to myself lately.  If I see something I want, I’m buying it.

Or eating it 😎.

Changing the subject completely, we had an unbelievably awesome time in Nashville though as I type this, I realize I need to make that a separate post.

Okay then!  Next post will be joyful…hmmm…I better leave out the part about the “Trump Won” caravan of cars we encountered in Knoxville that still has me shaken.

One sign said, “Only black cars matter.”

We almost threw up.

I mean, we know what Donald unleashed in this country, we know it always existed, but holy hell, as Philadelphia liberals, it’s shocking and demoralizing to actually see it live.

I know, I know, let it go, Robin.  Listen to music, have normal thoughts, and read Ellen’s book!

Yep.

Anyway, I am going to end this post on a positive note. I now have a painting by Bev Jackson on my wall!  I met Bev over 20 years ago when we were all newbie writers at Zoetrope Studios and a core group of us are still pals on social media though if anyone wants to have a meetup in New York this summer, HELL YES. Bev’s artwork is amazing and shockingly affordable. You can have a look here: https://jacksonsjazz.com/

So that’s it for now, Gary is making me heart healthy pasta for dinner and he just called me in for a taste.

Not bad!  Totally vegan with peanuts and broccoli and very yummy.

Yay for having a fantastic chef husband!

I’m going eating.

Peace and love 😎

Happy Mother’s Day

 

My mom in 1962, me exactly 60 years later in 2022

It’s surreal my mom has been gone my entire adult life.  This is one of only three photos I have of her, there are times I can barely remember what she looked like.

“Just look in the mirror, Rob,” says Gary, who remembers everything and loved my mom so very much, as she loved him…she knew we were soulmates when we were children.

My mom never got to meet my kids and never knew I would go on to write a bunch of books.

She never got to eat small batch ice cream, use a computer, or fly on a plane.

My mom was the original hippie.  We were the first family in the neighborhood to have a bathroom wallpapered in posters in the mid sixties.

We had zero money, so when my mom couldn’t afford posters of the Beatles, she got the idea to visit a travel agent and coyly ask for free, promotional travel posters to show my father in hopes of a trip.  As if.  Oh, how 10 year old me loved staring at those pics of England and Italy and dreaming that someday I’d visit…

I made it to both places, mom.

My mom doesn’t get credit for it, but in 1964, she invented the first flourless chocolate cake when she drank a glass of Manischewitz while baking and left out the flour/baking powder.

She called it the Flop Cake and to this day, it remains the most delicious thing I ever ate.

We begged her to make it again but she honestly didn’t know how she did it and she was too afraid to try.

How ironic that recipe became iconic right after her death.

Nowadays, instead of mourning my mother and all that she missed, I am grateful she didn’t get to see the end of Roe v Wade and yesterday, Nazis marching through Disneyland.

It would have killed her all over again.

Anyway, I’m not big on Hallmark holidays, especially with my own kids living thousands of miles away, but this year I intend to hug my puppy and husband throughout the day and eat French onion soup and flourless chocolate cake for dinner.

Happy mother’s day ❤️

My daughter…

 …played with some Talking Heads last night.

The House

 

So last night, Julie and Sandra sent me this link to a house for sale in Seattle. 

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/4067-Letitia-Avenue-S-Seattle-WA-98118/48745434_zpid/?utm_campaign=iosappmessage&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=txtshare

By the time I went to bed, I wanted to buy it over the phone.

This morning I was already sipping my coffee on its deck and having dinner with Julie and Sandra at Ray’s.

Of course Gary knew none of this.

But Gary does know it’s been my habit throughout my entire adult life to immediately want to move wherever I’m enjoying myself on vacation.  This includes everything from fantasizing about applying for a paralegal job at the Laguna Beach Ritz Carlton in Laguna Niguel, California (because my higher power has a sense of humor and said job was listed right next to the I could never afford in a million years real estate) to an old stone farmhouse in Tuscany, Italy where I had the best damn meal of my life.

Oh yeah, I wanted to move to Bad Doberan, Germany after attending a Frank Zappa festival there in 2003.  I was obsessed and spent a couple years looking at houses.

Naturally when I visited Julie last summer in Seattle, by day 2, I was looking for a place.

Gah!  I quickly saw that the only Seattle real estate we could afford under a million dollars would be a one bedroom condo, which I already knew Gary would never agree to because I’ve been campaigning to downsize and either move to a one bedroom on Rittenhouse Square or anywhere waterfront since the kids moved out in 2008.

Seeing as we’ve lived in the same house since 1978, I think it’s safe to say my husband doesn’t like change.

Still, I know my taste is definitely not for everyone, probably most of you will be appalled, but this purple house was so me I practically wept and it’s financially doable.

Against my better judgment, I showed it to Gary as soon as he had his coffee.  Because I may be dumb sometimes, but I’m not crazy.

“Gary, look at this house.”  I hand him my phone, which always causes him to act like it’s radioactive and going to kill him because he still has a flip phone from 1998.

I put it on virtual tour so he could really experience everything.

“Julie is buying a house?” he asked, confused.

“No, that’s for us!”

He gave me that look, the one that makes me want to move to Seattle without him.

I waited for him to say more but he didn’t and I couldn’t have that, I needed to know if I could put an offer in 😂.

“Isn’t that house amazing?” I asked, trying to get a reaction.

I got nothing.

“You don’t like it?” I asked again. 

“No.”

My heart sank.  He says he’s a hippie.  A hippie would love that place!

“What don’t you like?  The purple paint outside? The red and green walls? The claw foot tub? The monkeys painted over the door?”

“I don’t like that it’s not in Philadelphia.”

Oh.

“You have no sense of adventure,” I replied.

“Not true.  In fact, I have a great idea,” he said.

“What?”  Oh my god, heart be still.

He pointed to the arched wall between our closet and dining room.

“You’re an artist.  Why don’t you copy that house and paint a couple of monkeys up there.”

He was dead serious.

I scowled but now that I’ve had time to think about it, maybe I will. 😎

So that’s been my day, and other than what’s going on in the world, life is good.

I hope it is for you, too.