Robin is spending NY's in Los Angeles, stuck on various freeways, but we'll get to that in a minute ...
One thing nice I'll say for the year '09: I don't think I've heard a peep out of that former U.S. President who has a red nose like Rudolph's. When Prez Obama appointed Rudolph's wife as Secretary of State, do you think they took Mr. Hillary to an Undisclosed Location? Good show ...
Speaking of the new administration--I wonder if one of the president's advisors could get him to stop speaking in that monotone, with a drop in tone at the end of every sentence? A little variety in his cadence would be a big help, especially for those of us conservatives in the audience who fondly recall the voice of the Gipper ...
And another whacko Muslim tried to blow up an American plane! I'm amazed by this because every time I try to get on an airplane these days, my bilateral hip replacements set off a couple of dozen airport alarms and I, a native-born-American-Lutheran-Practically-a-Senior-Citizen-with-only-one-traffic-ticket-in-twenty-years (and no record of explosive use, except a little explosive language against old boyfriends) am practically strip-searched by the TSA at every airport. They even took away a jar of jam my friend Leslie gave me on one of my most recent trips. Dangerous stuff, jam. And yet, this knucklehead from Nigeria, whose own father turned him in to the CIA, just waltzes onto a plane headed for Detroit with plastic explosives strapped to his pants. "Going to the U.S.? Carrying any explosives? (Sound of visa being stamped.) Next!" I think we should put the Israelis in charge of our airport security, and that would be the end of the problem ...
LA freeways: always a barrel of laughs.I'm spending NY's Eve in Los Angeles with friends and I find the LA freeway situation so bad it is almost funny if it didn't control the lives of everyone here. "Can't meet you. I don't travel the 405 this time of day ..." is an oft heard refrain.
It has, admittedly, been more than three decades since I lived here while getting my Masters Degree at UCLA, and I just looked up the population statistics: from that time to this the population of the LA region has gone from about three million to more than nine million. No wonder the freeways are gridlocked: same freeways, with three times the number of people using them.
When I lived here the freeways were busy except during rush hour and accidents when they were impassable. Now the freeways are impassable, except during rush hour and accidents, when they are impassable, only more so. Aliens "Serving Man" in an old Twilight Zone episode.
It reminds me of the old Twilight Zone episode called "To Serve Man" about these aliens who come and befriend Earthlings and have this book with them, the title of which Earth people finally translate as To Serve Man. Hey that's great! It is only later, when Earth people translate the rest of the book that they realize it is a cookbook. Ooops. Thus it is with LA's freeways: at first designed to be at the service of Angelinos, the freeways have now cooked LA's goose ...
In 2009, as you know, I lost my mother. It happened shortly after my sister and I had to put our father in skilled nursing care. We had worried so long about how our father would fare when he was separated from our mother, that we hadn't even thought about how she would do without him. He went up to skilled nursing--with numerous terminal diseases--and she stayed in their home. And though he thrived in nursing care, she, living alone for the first time in 65 years, fell apart almost immediately and died. That was the shock we didn't see coming ...
I understand now why people believe in ghosts. My sister and I have spent time cleaning the family home where our folks lived for half a century--though like Hercules cleaning out the Augean stables, we have only begun to shovel. And though our mother has been gone now for three weeks, we still except to see her around every corner ... yelling at us for moving her furniture ...
Another thing that happens with the death of a loved one--something I learned in 2009--is that with their passing, so passes the bitterness. My mother's last decades were not happy ones and her unhappiness had many sad consequences, though the reasons for this none of us will ever truly know. But we are now free to remember and cherish the happy years, when she was charismatic and full of fun, and celebrate her beauty and her laughter ...
Perhaps the greatest joy of 2009, for me, was the chance to be there when both of my parents finally needed me. The last day I spent with my mother was full of sorrow, but I was better able to deal with it when I could bathe her face as the end came, and not just worry at a distance. Fewer regrets, that's for sure ...
And my reunion with my father--that has been joyful too. He has spent most of his life as a stoic man and quiet: he served his country and his family without complaint. Did his duty. Expected little in return. Affectionate and warm to my sister and me when we were children, he withdrew from us as we entered the mysterious world of womanhood. This year, as his dementia broke down the barriers, he and I became beloved father and daughter again. "I love you Robin," he said to me the other day. "I hope its not too late." But of course it is never too late when there is life and breath ...
Robin dressed in Dad's work clothes, hoping he'll notice how much I love him.He does think I'm considerably younger than I am--maybe college age or thereabouts--a lovely side benefit of his dementia. "You are a very pretty girl," he said to me one night as I helped him with his dinner. "Any dating prospects?" (That's so fatherly, isn't it?) It cracked me up, so I smiled and shook my head no, making a pretend sad face, and he said, "Well, you must not be trying." Aside from the love and kindness in his statement, I realized he was probably right. I probably haven't been trying. Note to self: something to work on in 2010 ...
So many challenges in this year past and so many joys. And, though I hate to leave it behind, it must be done. On to the New Year ...
P.S. I'm being kidnapped and taken to the Rose Bowl on NY's Day. If I survive this giant tailgate party (honestly, they have rented an RV!!! They have a satellite dish and a barbeque!!! They're packing enough food and liquor to feed our troops in Afghanistan!! I'd rather be shopping at Hermes!!!), I'll be sure and report on my safari into this strange land. Perhaps it will be comparable to my last trip up the Limpopo ...
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2 comments:
Welcome to Los Angeles. We should have another beautiful day for you to enjoy the parade. Frankly, I put up with the traffic because I'd rather deal with that than with snow and ice. : )
I know what you mean about ghosts. About a week after my father died, I had a dream where he walked into a room, came up to me, gave me a big hug and disappeared into me. It shook me up, badly, until my mom told me "He came to say goodbye." Yet he is still around every corner and constantly in my thoughts.
Happy New Year, Robin. All the best to you in 2010.
Laura
Wow. I had an Old Boy Friend (OBF) who told me a similar dream that took place, he later learned, just about the time his uncle, who had raised him, passed away in the hospital. I wonder if these things are there in our subconscious, and are things we just know ... BTW, in spite of what I wrote ... I'm with Randy Newman on LA: "Century Boulevard! We Love It! Victory Boulevard! We Love It! Santa Monica Boulevard! We Love It! We Love It! We love it!!!"
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