Oscar Peterson: August 15, 1925 - December 23, 2007

Here's a snippet from an article about Peterson's life: Oscar Peterson

"Oscar Peterson, who sat atop
the world of jazz piano for decades with his driving two-handed
swing, technical wizardry and rapid-fire solos, has died, a
friend of the musician said on Monday. He was 82."

and


"Technique is something you use to make your ideas
listenable," he [Peterson] once told jazz writer Len Lyons. "You learn to
play the instrument so you have a musical vocabulary, and you
practice to get your technique to the point you need to express
yourself, depending on how heavy your ideas are."

Peterson's web site:http://oscarpeterson.com

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singing wthout words

Jeff Beck, "Cause We Ended As Lovers."

I first heard this live in a darkened warehouse around the midnight hour. I must have been 17 or so. The two Michaels (Samman and Jensen) plugged in their guitars and serenaded me. There may or may not have been some weed involved. I'm not at liberty to say.

So to recapture that moment in time with me, slap on your headphones and close your eyes (or turn out the lights) and listen.

I feel at this very second that my emotions are once again captured musically.

It's been that way my whole life.

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Probably go mad all by myself...

Ah, Chris Whitley... tellin' it like it is.

So it's 12:07 pm and I'm sitting here hoping my mom doesn't come downstairs to find out why I'm still up. I don't want anymore mothering today. I'm all caught up. I'm certainly old enough to stay up as late as I please.

On a related side note: Would SOMEONE please send me a laptop for Christmas? It should have wireless capabilities and have a decent amount of memory. With this laptop, I will be able to write to you, dear reader, any old time - early, late and in-between. Fearlessly.

Sad, isn't it? I am begging people I might not even know to send me a damn laptop. (But just do it, okay?)

Things are going okay. I had a pleasant time shopping after work. Some presents for the above-mentioned mom, a few things for the spouse and a friend. Nothing -nothing!- for me. Hmph! It's okay... I have more than I need. I actually really do like gift giving. (I really like the part where I get to make packages pretty.)

Here's another tune:




One of you will call me cheesy. I care not: I am cheesy.
Anyway, I have continued to be cheery, singing Christmas carols, decorating the office and my home, either completely sucking it all in and maintaining a shiny pocket of denial or maybe being genuinely cheery.

Does it matter which, really?

Of course it matters. Truly, I think it's a combination. An emotional value-pack, super-sized. Yeah, yeah. Bite-sized denial with a cheery dipping sauce. Yum.

I leave you with Nick Drake. He brings out my melancholy...

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nothing music cannot cure

Or maybe not.
Being pulled in two directions.
Like living with two 6-year olds.
Exhausted in every way.

Maintaining sunny optimism.

I don't remember that I've always been this way, but maybe I have. Have I always looked on the sunny side?

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Holy water, batman!

Okay, so the headline is lame. But what about companies selling bottled holy water... holy drinking water? Thanks to Unca Bwuce in Amsterdam (his full, Christian name, of course), I've just learned about this phenomenon.

My favorite is, of course, "Formula J," as seen here

You can read all about it here.

A few snippets from the article by Lisa Miller:

"Holy Drinking Water, produced by a California-based
company called Wayne Enterprises, is blessed in the warehouse by an
Anglican or Roman Catholic priest (after a thorough background check).
Like a crucifix or a rosary, a bottle of Holy Drinking Water is a daily
reminder to be kind to others, says Brian Germann, Wayne's CEO."

Franciscan nuns have launched a letter-writing campaign to put the damper on this crazy industry, "Water is life," says Sister Mary Zirbes, a nun in the Franciscan
Sisters of Little Falls, Minn. "It really should not be a commodity to
be bought."

Amen, sister. Amen.

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leavin' on a jet plane...

We're going on a short trip tomorrow. Mom and the girls will be guarding the house. I'm headed for sunshine and some ocean time... yay. I'd sound more excited if I wasn't so worried about the state of affairs here.

There was a nose-to-nose argument between the spouse and mother the other night. It was loud and horrid, each yelling at the other. I was paralyzed... cannot deal with that loudness and anger. It frightens me in a deep place... cannot describe it exactly but I have never been able to deal with that sort of thing well.

However... I plan to relax, frolic and eat some fishes. Swim fast, fishes, I'm a-comin'!

May not be able to post while I'm away, so until next time...

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Chronic headaches may lead to more headaches

This is a medical discovery that I have made. Yes, it's true.

I believe the headaches to be stress related, in case you're wondering.

Please accept my apologies for being absent. This thing with my mother has taken on a life of its own, but probably not in the way you'd have expected.

She and I are getting along fairly well. Yes, she has the ability to make me positively nutty - she's my mother, it's her job (apparently).But we've had some good talks and while I believe this is not the way I'd like to spend quality time with my mother (living in my house due to an emergency-type situation in her life), it's okay.

So the problem, you ask? My spouse is terribly unhappy. He has selected several events and has turned them into defining events - he despises her, I think. And truly, his reaction is way over the events. There's no balance between the two.

My mother has said that she knows he hates her, she knows he doesn't want her here and she has no idea why. And she's gone on to say that, even if after getting to know her (which he has not) he decided she's not his favorite person in the world, she expected him to at least treat her with respect... which he has not.

He went to see "his family" for Thanksgiving. He drove to WV on Tuesday and came back Friday. She and I stayed behind and went to a friend's house. It was a generous invitation from a woman M. and I know from our favorite restaurant. (As I said to Julia, "We're going to a friend's house for dinner. And by "friend" I mean "favorite waitress.") We truly did have a nice time, my tomato pie was a huge hit (yes, Android, I made a tomato pie). [Note to self: email recipe to Janet.]

So there was that. But really, it's the hostility. The intolerance. He's said that she must leave by the first of the year. Of course, she's not here because she WANTS to live with her daughter and son-in-law; she's here because she has nowhere else to go. I have no place to send her back TO. She doesn't want to stay forever, but until she gets back on her feet - literally and figuratively.

I've not been this frank here before because I know Double-D sometimes reads this and worry that he'll send M. right on over to read it (as far as I know, M. doesn't know about this blog. Not because I'm hiding it from him but because he has never been interested in my writing).

Here's the thing: As much as I pissed and moaned about my mother coming, I was open to the experience - plus, admittedly, a nice dash of my personal sense of drama. Even M. seemed okay with it. But the anger and hostility is bizarre, to say the least.

And here's really and truly THE thing: I do not reply to the email his hyper-Christian aunt & uncle send me - all that crap from Focus on the Family and other bullsht that's supposed to pass for patriotism. Why? Because it's M's famliy and even though I don't agree with their views, they are M's family, so I treat them with respect. And his mother has no idea just how dispicable I find her treatment of my husband, letting him go as a child and not bothering to get to really know him as he grew up. Or now, for that matter. I treat her with love and kindness. Why? She's his mother and if he wants to try to have a relationship with her, I'm here to support him.

I could go on and on but I won't. I think you've got the picture.

We go to Florida next week for a little R&R and I hope we can have some meaningful time together. By "meaningful time" I mean time where the television isn't blaring. Or sharing thoughts, ideas, hopes and dreams. Things we've not done in a long time. And the sad thing about that (referencing "long time") is that we were married on January 1, 2003. It'll only be five years in almost a month.

I'm not happy with this insight I'm having, that is being shown to me. Sure, it was rough taking care of my dad (but I dealt with it for the most part and he didn't live with us) and it stinks that my mother has to live with us. But it's LIFE, not a bunch of busywork until we get to the finish line. I want the road from start to finish to be interesting, rich and rewarding. It has to be, or it has no meaning.

I'm going to bed all tired and worried. Now you can light candles for me. Purple, please.

Oh, but since I like to share the sanity... La Gordita took this picture:

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where's my time?

I mean, where is the time? My time? My writing time. Beading time. Loafing around time. GONE baby gone, time is gone!

The point, really, is that I miss you terribly. I'm so tired, very stressed and wishing for what the locals call "down time." (Life locals, that is.)

In 10 years, I'm sure I'll be glad I did this; at some point near the end of my life, I will be karma-cally glad that I did this. But it's remained tense. I keep thinking, "Acceptance is the answer," hoping that if I can just adopt acceptance as my mainstay, the annoying behaviors won't be annoying. But then I get so annoyed that I forget to be accepting. It's a double whammy. Possibly a catch-22. At the very least, it's headache inducing.

M. is not in his happy place. The overall mood here is not cheery. Nobody is happy. Well, possibly Frieda is happy because now she has a  person listening to her all day long.

Oh, did I mention that I think I might be selfish? Damn me!

Let me insert this lovely image from my garden. Perhaps this will divert your attention from my potentail selfishness.



(All about me? Never!)

Anyway... I'm babbling.

So goodnight.

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the Dubya quote I've been searching for!

At last I've found it. Actually, it took less than a minute to find. It took a year to remember to look for it. Well, eleven months, anyway.

The quote is Dubya saying: "We didn't ask for this war.”

From http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/library/news/2006/09/mil-060915-afps01.htm:

Bush: Clear Rules Needed for Detainee Operations

By Sgt. Sara Wood, USA
American Forces Press Service

WASHINGTON, Sept. 15, 2006 – The pending legislation in Congress about detaining, questioning and trying suspected terrorists will give military intelligence professionals the clarity they need to protect the American people from another terrorist attack, President Bush said here today.

“We'll work with Congress to get good bills out because we have aduty. We have a duty to work together to give our folks on the frontline the tools necessary to protect America,” Bush said at a news conference at the White House.

The first bill pending would allow the U.S. to use military commissions to try suspected terrorists for war crimes and would clarify the rules on the detention and questioning of such suspects,
Bush said. This bill is vital because it will allow the Central Intelligence Agency’s interrogation program to move forward, he said.

The CIA’s program has yielded a lot of valuable information sincethe war on terror began and has helped disrupt numerous terroristplots, including attacks on the U.S. Marine base in eastern Africa, the American consulate in Pakistan, and Britain's Heathrow Airport, Bush said.

“This program has been one of the most vital tools in our efforts to protect this country,” he said. “It's been invaluable to our country, and it's invaluable to our allies. Were it not for this program, our intelligence community believes that al Qaeda and its allies would have succeeded in launching another attack against the American homeland.”

There is debate about the specific provisions in this bill, Bushacknowledged, but the most important aspect of it will be to allow theinterrogation program to continue.

The second bill pending will modernize U.S. electronic surveillance laws and provide additional authority for the terrorist surveillance program, Bush said. The surveillance program has allowed the government to quickly monitor terrorist communications and has helped detect and prevent terrorist attacks, he said.

Both the pending bills are essential to U.S. victory in the war on terror, and the administration is committed to working with Congress toensure military professionals have clarity enough to do their jobs, Bush said.

“It's a dangerous world,” he said. “I wish it wasn't that way. I wish I could tell the American people, ‘Don't worry about it. They're not coming again.’ But they are coming again. And that's why I've sent this legislation up to Congress, and that's why we'll continue to work with allies in building a vast coalition to protect not only ourselves, but them.”

The goal of both pieces of legislation is to clarify U.S. laws andset high standards for the treatment of detainees, Bush said. TheSupreme Court’s ruling that detention operations must be conducted under Common Article 3 of the Geneva Convention is vague, and opensU.S. military and intelligence professionals up to the possibility ofviolating the law without knowing it, he said.

“These are decent, honorable citizens who are on the front line of protecting the American people, and they expect our government to give them clarity about what is right and what is wrong in the law, and that's what we have asked to do,” he said.

After the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, terrorists havecontinued to strike around the world and have demonstrated theircommitment to spreading their ideology of hatred, Bush said. The U.S.needs to take the terrorists’ words and actions seriously, and do whatis needed to protect the country from another attack, he said. 

“My job and the job of people here in Washington, D.C., is to protect this country. We didn't ask for this war," he said. “This enemy has struck us, and they want to strike us again. And we'll give our folks the tools necessary to protect the country. That's our job.”

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negativity

Explain to me how a person can simultaneously hate & make fun of fat-free and low-fat foods and yet eat just about all of the fat-free / low-fat “treats” in the house? Oh, leaving just one in a box, yes. Not all, most.

And the waste… leftovers becoming science projects.

And then $4 cartons of fat-free (what?! fat-free?!) calcium-enriched lactaid “milk.”

One a week.

Have I mentioned that in just a few weeks I think about 5 bottles of wine have been purchased? Yes. Only one person is consuming that wine and it ain’t me.

Lord help me.

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weary, bleary, woeful me

Would that not make an excellent country song title? Hmm?

Due to several concerned messages received via email, I am writing to let you know that all is well. Or, no crimes have yet been committed. Rome wasn't built in a day, as you well know, so I figure a murderous rage won't develop in just ten and a half days. (Note to any law enforcement types passing through: These are the words of a drama queen and no actual harm is intended by them; in fact, there will not truly be a rage at all - murderous or otherwise.)

So really, it's going okay. Am I going nuts? Yes. Do I long for the days when I could come home from work and relax in silence, a silence broken only by the cheery mews of my kitties? Of course I do. Am I embarrassed as can be when she rams the little shopping go-cart into displays at Target? Absolutely. Am I tired of hearing all manner of judgment about everyone else in the universe? Certainly.

But then I get the contrast coming in the form of a weepish mom who expresses a combination of gratitude and shame for being in this position in the first place. Balance, yin-yang, and so on. How bad is my life really? Not bad at all.

I have to believe that I will come out of this stronger, a better person. Or perhaps I will be completely batty and won't know -or care- if I'm better or stronger. Either way, I do know that I'm (we're) doing the right thing. M. is doing quite well - better than I expected, actually. Although to be honest, he was away on business last week and is again this week. And he golfed on both Saturday and Sunday - the two days he was in town. So he's had a bit of a break. But again, it's not his mom. (But if it was, I have a bright, shiny nickel says he'd still have had a bit of a break!)

Off the mom-topic briefly (and lastly, before I collapse in a soft heap in my bed): I mentioned that I have some unwanted stuff in my body. That would be a sizable (but not grossly enormous) fibroid in my uterus, several on an ovary and one or more small ones somewhere else. (I'm tired, forgive me for both forgetting my entire diagnosis and being too lazy to reach my arm slightly to grab the doc's report.)

I see a new doctor in several weeks to discuss what to do. My doc says the uterine fibroid must go - and I heartily agree. I've had a ton of pain and other symptoms (that fall into the discomfort / yucky zone) and would like it to stop. I'm even toying with the idea of a hysterectomy. Yes, yes, perhaps too young. But I think I also mentioned that my labs indicated I'm in early menopause, so what would the harm be, really?

Kids, you ask? I can always take one of Madonna's cast-offs if necessary. But cats will do. And I'm married, remember - there is often a fine line between husband and child. (Don't you tell him I said that, Richard!)

So I take my fibroid and cyst-filled body to bed. Because I am weary and bleary, but not truly so woeful. Not woeful at all.

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keep those candles lit and the prayers comin', folks

I’ve only a few minutes before I pass out from exhaustion.

It’s been stressful. Very stressful.

I can see now exactly how and why the previous hostess gave her the
boot: Complete lack of gratitude (or the expression thereof) coupled
with subtle (mostly) remarks about how hot it is upstairs, how the
picture on the TV in the guest room just isn’t that clear. Things like
that.

Trying to maintain (get and then maintain?!) a sense of my own
gratitude, grace, patience, and other qualities I am apparently lacking.

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the mother has landed

She’s here. So far, so good. I mean, really, I can’t complain. We
stayed up talking until almost 3 am my time, but it’s okay. She’s
pretty slow moving because of the foot thing, so I’m not sure how much
we’ll be able to get done together. IOW, going to the grocery could
take a hell of a long time.

M. has developed a very kind and loving view of the situation, so I’m happy about that.

And on a different topic, we have more exciting news in the world of
[insert sounds of doom here] Franque’s health. I’m fine, I’m fine. But
I have fibroids and a cyst. I imagine those will have to come out
(there were associated symptoms -oh, okay, I’ll say it: pain- that got
me to the doc in the first place), so maybe the timing of my mother’s
“visit” will be helpful. In terms of post-surgery stuff. (Don’t you
LOVE how I have myself needing to recover from surgery? How I see
myself needing the constant care of my MOMMY? God, such a drama queen!)

To add just a dash of excitement to the fibroid/cyst splendor, some
tests my doc ordered last week “show evidence of early menopause.” Aah,
nothin’ says autumn like a hot flash, eh?

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Smithsonian opens virtual African American museum - Yahoo! News

Smithsonian opens virtual African American museum - Yahoo! News

Snippet:

"The dream to build it really had started and stopped and stalled," [Lonnie] Bunch [the museum's first director] said in a telephone interview. "A lot of people really questioned 'Is this going to happen?' This is one of the ways we can make it real."

"He will use the site -- http://nmaahc.si.edu/ -- to promote museum exhibitions that will travel around the country over the next few years, solicit advice on planning the museum and seek donations to help raise money toward construction of the $500 million building on the Washington mall.

"The museum's first project to explore using the Web to add to its collection is a program called the Memory Book, which asks users to write in or submit digital audio recordings with recollections of significant experiences in their lives."

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As M-Day Nears, Townsfolk Tremble, Hold Prayer Meetings

Just kidding!

But M-Day is on Thursday. She arrives at 11 pm. I've done all the housework a girl can do and still walk upright, so I'm hoping the days of her nit-picking are long gone. (Of course, as a guest in my home, you'd think that complaining or nit-picking of any kind wouldn't happen, but I think that she complained and nit-picked her way out of her last arrangement.)

I had two days off -Monday and today- and I'm anything but rested. I have had some good workouts, though, so that's good.

There are a few therapists I need to call. As we get closer to M-Day, I feel the growing need to have one on retainer. Just in case of an emotional emergency. Here are some of the issues my mother and I have had in the past, just to give you a hint at what I'm dealing with:

• I can't have been depressed as a "tween" and then a teen - she'd have known. Forget that I was bulimic, suicidal and actually sent myself to therapy as a youngin'. Secretly with my babysitting money. Yes.
• Or I'm not  Latina or Hispanic, whatever you prefer. Why? I haven't suffered enough. Um, HULLO! I coulda gone with Jewish (or at least Sephardic) but she'd have to have been the Jewish one. Since it was on my dad's side, it doesn't count. It's the only identity I have, in terms of cultural context.
• My father, even though they've been divorced for MANY years (more than a few decades) -and not to mention that he's DEAD- is the root of all evil. He got what he deserved (lonely, painful death), but then again, he deserved WORSE!

There's more, but I'm so weary from cleaning that I can't think of anything else.

Now watch... she'll be a little princess. And then you will shame me, as I [may then] deserve.

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ickie ee ones

Long ago and far away, I worked in a record store. One of my regulars was a young lady who was just about blind from very severe diabetes. She couldn't see dar lettering on a dark background, for example.

One day she came into the store to visit and the record -LP, that's "long playing record" for you whipper-snappers- that was playing was Rickie Lee Jones. So long ago does this story take place that I cannot remember the album.

In any case, the first letter of each of Rickie's names was in a dark color. So my friend stood at the counter, squinting back to where the album cover was on display, and finally said, "Who the HELL is 'Icky Ee Ones?!"

Aah, yes. One of my favorites, Ickie Ee Ones.

You know, also long ago and far away, such women as Rickie Lee gave me permission of a sort to carry on as I did. I don't blame them, that's not what I'm saying. If I'd been alive when Billie Holiday was all the rage, I'd have had a nice excuse to shoot smack. Instead, if was gallons and gallons of booze.

So let that be a lesson to you!

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5:30 in the mornin'

I can’t stay up too late because I have to get up at 5:30 in the morning.Again. Yes, again. It’s my new thing, you see, getting up at 5:30 and exercising. Well, exercising while the sprinklers are on the lawn. MmHmm. We got different parts of the lawn reseeded and those parts have to be watered twice a day. So since M. is outta town, guess who does it? You guessed it, moi. I figured if I had to get up early to do the damn watering I might as well exercise too. And then, you see, it’s done for the day. (Not the watering - that has to be done again in the evening - the exercising is done.)

It’s only 9:52 pm and I have that weird haunty feeling… zombie brainishness. I must sleep now.

Now.

Now.

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September 11, 2007

Music for tonight's post. (Don't watch the video if, like me, you find images of September 11th to be way too painful.)

---

The flag outside my building was flying at half-mast today. Nobody on campus really talked about 9/11, just in passing here and there. I think it would have been different if I was still in Washington, DC - more talk, more emotion. Here in Ohio, as it was in Charleston, WV, I think it must have felt somewhat distant. Not to say, of course, that people in those places didn't feel the tremendous fear and sadness that people in the places that were hit did... but it does seem to be different.

Anything-But-Bacon told us last year that she went to see the 9/11 movie (whatever that was, in theatres, something awful). She said she went "to honor the people who died." I exploded in one of my idiotic reactions (note to self: respond, don't react) asking how in the hell 9/11 victims were honored by paying $8 to see a fabrication of an event... She didn't -couldn't- reply. I compared that movie to Mel Gibson's "Silence of the Christ" (or was it "Passion of the Lambs"?) in terms of filmmakers using poetic license to the extreme for the sake of exploiting an event. That didn't win me any fans.

Why do I try to change people's minds?
Why do I tihnk I'm right?
(Besides the very obvious answer that I AM.)

So anyway, here we are, six years later. After fleeing WashDC the month after the attacks (to the biscuity comfort of West-by-God-Virginia) I still cried about it. Saw the Michael Moore film and had such a reaction that I thought maybe I had PTSD. (Really.) Ask Baby Judas, he'll tell you - it was noticable in the theatre. I wrote an essay about September 11 and what it was like for me - and I won an award for that essay.

I'd give up awards of all kinds if I could have the power to take that day back.To keep people from the horrific choices they had to make and for all the choices they were KEPT from making. The memories of that day and its aftermath bring home the fragility of life... it is fleeting, tender -though sometimes so very hard.

So cry for the losses, but keep living your life. Live it full, with joy and abundance of spirit. Love is easier than hate - it feels better, aids digestion and if what goes around really does come around, by gosh, wouldn't you rather it be love?!

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airplane ticket

I just bought the airplaine ticket. One way from LAX to Ohio. A pitstop in Las Vegas. One can only hope her dance potential will be discovered and she'll be whisked off to lead a life of glamor and showgirl excitement.

But that's very, very unlikely.

As unlikely as a successful Britney Spears comeback performance.
Indeed.

It will be fine.
It will be okay.
All will be well.

[Rinse and repeat as needed]

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Paris Hilton sues Hallmark over waitress card

A snippet from http://tinyurl.com/39kywd:

"LOS ANGELES (Reuters) - Socialite Paris Hilton has filed a lawsuit against Hallmark Cards, claiming it used her likeness without permission on a greeting card entitled "Paris's First Day as a Waitress."

Kansas City-based Hallmark Cards said the card was part of a satirical series that parodied celebrities and politicians.

"According to the lawsuit, Hilton's face is superimposed over a cartoon of a waitress serving food to a patron with the dialogue "Don't touch that, it's hot. What's hot? That's hot."

"It says the card was selling in the United States for $2.49.

"The suit says that Hallmark failed to obtain approval from the hotel heiress for using her image and had damaged her rights to privacy and publicity."

Uh, yeah. Ridiculous, huh?

Let's review something together, shall we? This is Paris Hilton. That's right, Paris Hilton is suing because her RIGHTS TO PRIVACY AND PUBLICITY were damaged. MmHmm. This from the gal whose sex vid is still in high demand on the 'net. Who doesn't walk but rather poses her way through life. Utterly ridiculous!

I was wondering, though -ridiculousness aside- as a celebrity, are Hilton's rights being trampled by Hallmark? A quick review of my media law book tells me that she just might have a case. The key here is that her likeness was used in parody - and that's where I think she could have something. (Well, her attorneys could have something - I find it nearly impossible to believe that Hilton has the sense of an ant, frankly.) Still, if I were the Hallmark attorney, I would argue that Hilton's life is a pardoy of itself, therefore erasing the lines between reality and fiction.

And then finally, the whole thing is just so dumb that I say, as perhaps Paris herself might, "WhatEVER!"

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Italian Tenor Pavarotti Is Dead

It's the end of an aria.

From the Washington Post (via The Associated Press), Thursday, September 6, 2007; 12:48 AM:

ROME -- Luciano Pavarotti, whose vibrant high C's and ebullient showmanship made him one the most beloved tenors, has died, his manager told The Associated Press. He was 71.

Pavarotti had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer last year and underwent further treatment in August 2007.

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a test

testing flocks's blog tool...

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Grace Paley 1922-2007: Acclaimed Poet and Writer Dies at 84

Oh, the cry that escaped my mouth when I read that headline, just moments ago. I love Grace Paley. Anytime I get to write a list of favorite books, Paley's "The Little Disturbances of Man" is at the top of the list. A book of short stories, it came into my mitts just when I needed it.

My mother and I saw Grace Paley read from another book (I'm embarrassed to say I forget which, now) at the Folger Shakespeare in Washington, DC. She was alive - brilliant, humble, articulate, clever, human. And a writer. Everything I wanted to be. Grace Paley is someone I have admired.

So I'll give you a few snips below, plus a link to a story on Democracy Now.

A full snip (and therefore not truly a snip, but what can you do?):

"The acclaimed American poet, short story writer, and anti-war activist Grace Paley has died. She was 84 years old and died Wednesday in her home in Vermont.

"A native of the Bronx, Grace Paley was the former state poet laureate in both New York and Vermont. She also received numerous prizes for her work including the Lannan Literary Award, a National Book Award, and a Senior Fellowship recognizing her lifetime contribution to literature from the National Endowment for the Arts.

"Since the 1960s Paley was very active in the anti-war, feminist, and anti-nuclear movements. She helped found the Greenwich Village Peace Center in 1961. Eight years later she went on a peace mission to Hanoi. In 1974 she attended the World Peace Conference in Moscow.

"In 1980, she helped organize the Women's Pentagon Action. And in 1985 Paley visited Nicaragua and El Salvador, after having campaigned against the U.S. government's policies toward these countries. She was also one of "The White House Eleven," who were arrested in 1978 for unfurling an anti-nuclear banner on the White House lawn.

"Just over four years ago, at the start of the war on Iraq, we interviewed Grace Paley. In February, 2003, the First Lady had cancelled a White House poetry symposium honoring Emily Dickinson, Langston Hughes and Walt Whitman. Laura Bush had feared the invited poets might invoke poems critical of invading Iraq."

Here's a little bit more on her: http://www.reaaward.org/html/grace_paley.html

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