Odd Love

My ex-husband very nicely recommended some books for me, among them a horror novel by Dean Koontz called Odd Thomas. I love that it begins with a small, love poem by Koontz:

Hope requires the contender
Who sees no virture in surrender.
From the cradle to the bier,
The heart must persevere.


What I’m Going to do With My Fifties

– Find another way of making a living in case everything you’re doing now goes to hell. Okay, not off to a positive start. But I have ZERO ideas. You know, maybe this is the kind of thing that you get to when you get to. Can’t be planned.
– Fall in love.
– Pick a place to travel to and explore. Mexico? (I don’t fly, so it has to be kinda close.)
– Make ten new friends (one for each year).

Too many big things. I need some things that are easier to accomplish.

– Take a hip hop dance class.
– Visit a museum in NYC that you’ve never been to.
– Take a pottery class. (I’m dying to recapture that joy of getting your thing back and it’s all colorful and shiny.)
– Sing Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.
– Find a regular volunteer gig that you enjoy. Maybe go back to Literacy Partners?
– Not think about turning 60. (OHGOD.)
– Get a dog.
– Repaint apartment.
– Walk the perimeter of Manhattan.
– Pick a neighborhood each year and explore. Start with financial district.

I’m trying to think of things so that when I get to 60 I’m not filled with regret. But nothing is jumping out at me, except for the “make ten new friends” thing. I like that one. I have a decent number of friends, and it feels great, so I’m thinking more would feel even better. Especially when I’m older.

Playing at Summerstage/Central Park

GREAT DAY. We accompanied this amazing band, my new favorite band, Balkan Beat Box.

Here’s a shot before they let the audience in.


Here’s a shot from the stage (so much fun to be on a stage!).


Here’s Balkan Beat Box. The guy on his knees was gorgeous and an amazing performer. They all were, really. The saxophone player was incredible. (But again, they all were.)


I got an action shot! I wish I had caught a better expression, though. (Note that two guys are in the air. Oh wait, THREE. It looks like the guy with the black hair is in the air, too! He was playing trombone.)


And here is us with Balkan Beat Box, talking about what we’re going to do. We play different styles, so we’re working out playing them together without the benefit of a real rehearsal. We can’t play our drums because another band was performing and it would have been too loud. I say we don’t really have to, we can use our hands to tap out the various rhythms, and the guy in black says, “Yes, let’s play in our hearts.” Isn’t that a nice thing to say?