Did you take my Facebook challenge? Did it work?

A year ago, I posted a challenge:

For Six Months, Let's Force Civilization on Facebook. 

In that blog, I made this pledge:

For the next six months, I will work to increase the amount of positive and/or real, first-person content on Facebook, in order to disempower the negative elements on the platform. I will not be less politically active or avoid posts about things I am angry about, but I will counter that with content that’s uplifting to both myself and my friends and colleagues. For the next six months, I will help make the platform of value to ME, personally, regardless of what its owners and “sponsored content” might do.

And then I made a long list of what I was going to do to live that pledge online. 

It's now a year later, and it turns out that I didn't just do it for six months. I did it for a year. 

And it worked: the ads I get aren't horrible anymore. I even bought something that targeted me (one of Stefan's Christmas presents). 

So I'm going to keep doing it. 

Sadly, the same strategy won't work on Twitter. I miss Twitter so much. Hugely. I miss my Twitter friends SO much. I miss Cher. But any time I need to remind myself why I paused my activities there, I go read the fascist-adjacent, pro-Putin, pro-extremist tweets of Elon Musk and I stay off. Not deleting my Twitter account though, because that means someone else could come along and use my name. I still have to be on my professional account. 

I sure wish someone would create a real alternative to Twitter and Facebook. 

I'm easy to find elsewhere online, BTW. 

Happy New Year! 

Right here, right now

I was lamenting last night to my husband how many of my friends are "stuck" in the past. They are deep in mourning the past - they still deeply miss high school (?!?!), they actively mourn friendships that long ago ended, romances that ended, careers that are no more. And they are so depressed and consumed by it, it can be hard to have a conversation. 

I got stuck for years fighting against the end of my career. It still burns. I still talk about it. But it's not the only thing I talk about or think about. It was for about two years solid. It's not now. 

I think ONLY looking back, pining for years for something that's over and loooooong gone, is unhealthy and keeps us from being happy. I'm not saying don't miss the past, but don't miss it more than you are here, right NOW. 

I had brought this up because I really hurt to see so many people I care about in pain. And I said that I have a friend who is always doing something - learning something new, going somewhere new, trying something new - and I think it keeps her happy. And she doesn't care what anyone thinks. And it's what I aspire to. Her life isn't perfect. She has ups and downs. But she also is still living life, still curious, still exploring. 

That was last night.

 
Today, during an IM exchange, that friend said: 

I’m going to learn Danish. My new thing. Had Danish guests last week. They’ve invited us over in June. I want to be able to order drinks, say my name, and tell people to F off. Basic survival banter.

Let's make 2023 the year we learn Danish well enough to order drinks in Copenhagen and tell people to F off. 

Merry Christmas! 

A year with a piano

In November 2021, I got a piano. That means, as I write this blog, I've had it for more than a year. 

I love it beyond words. 

I have always wanted a piano. As a child, if I went to someone's house and they had a piano, I couldn't keep my hands off of it. I couldn't understand friends that resented having to practice piano. People who played piano were magicians to me (they still are!), and I so wanted to be one of them. I loved watching people, including my Mom, walk up to a keyboard, open a hymnal and just start playing. 

When I was a young girl in the 1970s, my mom got an electric Kimball organ. I think it was called The Entertainer. I remember it as having two rows of keys and a lot of colorful buttons where you could make the keys sound like a flute or a banjo or a harp or a horn or whatever. It had several pre-programmed percussions as well. I think this YouTube Video is of the kind of organ we had. There were color stickers on some of the keys and I think each color was a chord. I thought my mother was amazing when she played it. I enjoyed fiddling with it - I remember playing "The Alley Cat" and "How Great Thou Art" out of a book that came with it: I could play with one finger striking the melody and one finger on one key for the chord and "beat" from the organ. 

My grandmother also had an organ, and I just remember her playing it just one time, and feeling like she was amazing also, just like anyone who could play a keyboard. 

But organs aren't pianos. Organs have such an artificial sound. Pianos sound so pure and simple. I wanted a piano!

I played guitar for a while as a teen. I wasn't very good and too shy to play for anyone publicly, even my family. I also hated how my Dad would start almost demanding I play for him when he was drunk (I never did, BTW). I have started and stopped playing guitar a few times over the years. I'm currently trying again to play. Still not very good. 

But over the years, I still have really wanted a piano. 

Not quite two years ago, it dawned on me that I'm an adult and that if I want a piano, I could get a piano. I live in a one-story house. And we own the house. Getting a piano is not some impossible dream anymore. I forget sometimes that I'm an adult and can do things I want to do. Seriously. I forget sometimes that I am in my 50s and could actually try to have something or do something I've always wanted. I guess we just get so used to telling ourselves over many years that we're too young or too poor or too busy for something that we get used to feeling like we can't have something we want. We also let someone rolling their eyes at us, or outright saying, "That's a really stupid idea," stop us from doing things we really want to do.

The only challenge to realizing this dream was where to put the piano if I got one. I studied our house for months thinking about it. I walked around and sat at different places in the house, over and over, picturing it. Finally, I decided where it could go, and so, in August or so of 2021, I told Stefan, "I keep seeing people online giving away free pianos. I really want a piano. I'd have to pay to get it moved, but otherwise, it would be free. I'd like to take the next one I see." It's not so much I needed his permission, but it would alter the makeup of one of our rooms, and he'd have to listen to me, so I thought it only fair to include my husband in the decision-making. 

It was, like, two weeks later, that a friend said on Facebook that she had a friend getting rid of a piano that she really wanted, but it meant letting go of the piano she, my friend, already had, and did anyone want it? She posted photos, and I jumped on it. I booked Michelle's Piano in Portland as my movers (committed the big politically incorrect act of asking the guy on the phone where he was from, per his very thick accent. He said Egypt and was then thrilled that I'd been there and one of my favorite words is Yalla and we probably talked 10 more minutes than we needed to. But I digress...). Paid just $250 for the movers to go all the way to Canby and bring me my piano from 40 miles away. 

I had imagined I would get a small upright piano, no taller than a couch. But this piano is tall - more than 4 feet tall. It is a Farrand Piano, made in Holland, Michigan. If the piano tuner read the date right, it was made in 1922. So it's 100 years old! Its serial number is 31420. It has a beautiful, rich tone. The middle D key sometimes doesn't play if it's struck too softly. It probably needs some replacements inside. But I had it professionally tuned (thanks, Reverand Dan!). The piano donor passed on some beginner piano books, and another friend sent me the book Piano for Dummies. I also had a book of Beatles songs from my earlier of guitar-playing days that had a wonderful chord chart in the back, and then ordered this really cool book a friend recommended, 101 Timeless Songs Song Leader Book, (again, thanks, Reverand Dan!) that said it has really well-known songs that are simplified for playing on piano or guitar. It was altogether enough to get started teaching myself to play piano. And I started teaching myself almost immediately. 

The first song I played from beginning to end, with chords, was Silent Night, out of the 101 Timeless Songs Song Leader Book. It was Christmas Eve, and Stefan had gone to Germany to spend his first Christmas with his parents since he moved to the USA in 2009. It took forever to get through the song, taking several seconds to find all the keys for each chord with my left hand, then fumbling through the melody with one finger on my right hand. But I thought it was so beautiful, I cried. 

I practised at least 30 minutes a day, five days a week, usually Sunday through Thursday nights - though often, I would realize I'd been sitting at the piano for an hour. By February, I could play Amazing Grace out of 101 Timeless Songs Song Leader Book relatively well and thought, you know, I should record this so my Mom can hear it. And maybe if I practice enough, I could have a piece ready to record every month. If I did that for a year, it would be a great way to push me to learn. 

So, I recorded myself playing Amazing Grace and posted it to YouTube and made the commitment to learn a piece to record every month for 12 months. 

As of next month, I will have met that goal. In fact, I've more than met that goal: some months, I recorded two, even three songs. You can see my YouTube channel music playlist here (not just piano playing though).  

I admit it: I'm proud of myself. It's an amazing feeling to read a piece of music! It's amazing to start off with a piece and think, geesh, I'll never learn this, and then slowly, day after day, start to hear it get better and better. It's wonderful to play a chord for the first time and being startled at how beautiful it sounds. It's delightful when my fingers memorize something before I feel like my brain has. I have laughed out loud and cried sitting at that piano and playing just for myself. It's been so delightful to learn something new, and it's made me remember how much I loved being in high school choir once upon a time. 

I'm sure it seems so silly to so many, me trying to learn to play piano in my 50s. I'm sure people have walked by my house and heard the broken pieces and wrong notes and barely-recognizable pieces and though, damn, that sounds horrible, how in the world does her husband put up with it? I'm sure there have been lots of eye-rolling. My answer: to hell with them. 

I've really struggled, especially since early 2017, with feeling joy. When my contract work dried up thanks to a certain fascist that assumed the Presidency who didn't fill open government positions and refused to submit budgets for any increases for agencies that used to hire me (and for three years straight, tried to eliminate one agency altogether), as well as no one wanting to hire a woman in her 50s, no matter how accomplished she is, I floundered. Hugely. Most of you have no idea just how bad it has been. For years, gardening has no longer felt Zen. Books no longer keep my attention the way they used to. For a few years, nothing on TV was interesting. Only riding my motorcycle or going on a trip gave me any kind of joy. Well, that and losing 55 pounds - that was AMAZING. I felt SO good. I love photos of me from that time. Thanks to COVID and periomenopaus, I gained every ounce back - and more - and that sent me further down this mental spiral.

Playing piano - and also guitar - has given me a daily respite, a daily sanctuary, from thinking about what hasn't worked out, how my career is ending, how I failed to get anyone out of Afghanistan, how so much of my work is completely looked over, and all my many fears. 

I'm going to keep riding my motorcycle. I'm going to keep traveling. I'm going to get back to gardening. And I did find some TV shows that kept my attention (Ted Lasso, Miss Marvel, She-Hulk, Andor). But I need a little something every day. Playing piano, playing guitar, taking language lessons on Duolingo - they are little, simple things that help me get through the day. And I didn't realize how much I was really needing little, simple things. 

Do that little, simple thing you want to do. Don't let fears of anyone thinking it's silly keep you from doing it. Don't let any innervoice telling you "That's a waste of money, you are too old, it's not like you can ever become professional doing that, etc." dissuade you from doing it. You don't even have to tell anyone - just go start taking tap dancing classes or learning Chinese or saving up for that trip to Paris or reading Shakespeare aloud in your home when no one is around. It's YOURS. It's your life. Do it. 

a gift 50 years ago paid off for me 16 years ago

On Aug. 12, 1972, a short-haired, clean-shaven Willie Nelson stepped onto the stage at the Armadillo World Headquarters in Austin for his first concert at that storied venue. It's considered the Big Bang of Austin, Texas being known as a music mecca. "The word on this groovy bohemian cowboy scene got out via dispatches in Rolling Stone from Chet Flippo, a grad student attending UT on the G.I. Bill," according to this article by Michael Corcoran from Texas Highways.

50 years ago. It's an anniversary that's worth celebrating to me, because remnants of that scene were still there when I first went to Austin in the summer of 1996, and after a day of drinking "Mexican Martinis" on a patio overlooking Town Lake (which is actually the Colorado River) and eating the best green bean casserole I'd ever had in my life (at Threadgill's North) and then seeing Don Walser at a bar on 6th street, I knew I'd found my spiritual home. 

Spurred by an ugly breakup and betrayal, I moved to Austin in October 1996, and for more than four years, I let the music of that amazing town heal my soul. 

I got to Austin a year too late to see Buck Owens stopping by a celebration of his birthday at the Continental Club in 1995, one of my favorite music venues ever, and I was frequently told about other shows I'd missed just a year or so before. But I did experience Ted Roddy's tribute to Elvis at that same venue. And went to three SXSW festivals before they became so crowded you couldn't show hop across town anymore. And heard so much fantastic live music EVERY week, sometimes every day. I have my own stories about brushes with famous people and legendary nights.  

I heard people lament the way it USED to be, but when I lived there, I could always find a concert to go to if I wanted to any night of the week - and by concert, I mean someone I liked to listen to playing in a bar for maybe just four other people. 

But I also knew the music scene was dying even while I lived there. I knew that music mecca wouldn't last forever, but I was astounded at how quickly it shrunk after I left in January 2001 to work abroad. Music venue after music venue got torn down. Funky bars and restaurants disappeared. Traffic became a nightmare. Tech hipsters replaced that wonderful mix of cowboys and hippies and former punk rockers, and their upscale apartments replaced oh-so-many dives. 

When I returned after 8 years abroad to get my things out of storage, Austin was unrecognizable and soulless. The vast majority of my friends I'd known there had moved elsewhere. I worked there briefly in 2017 and 2019, and each time, I hoped I would find some piece of what I used to love so much, one that wasn't doomed. I didn't. I went to the Broken Spoke one last time, for my birthday in 2019, and knew I'd probably never be there again. 

I know all things end. But I sure wish I could find an Austin-like place again, one where everyone seemed to be in a band after work, one where every dive restaurant had fantastic food, one where everyone felt welcomed at any club or venue, one where you always got chips and salsa before your meal.

But that said, I carry that Austin I knew in my heart and in my soul. And I'm so grateful for what started there 50 years ago - the music and memories still give me comfort and joy. 

When your family &/or friends think international travel is a waste

Travel is a privilege. International travel is a HUGE privilege. If you can travel, you are privileged: you have enough money to do it and you have enough education to navigate the challenges you will encounter. Plus, your passport can be a privilege: I have a passport that allows me to go into most of the countries on Earth with few challenges beyond money; my husband has one that allows him to go to even more. So many people have a passport that, even if they have the money to travel, other countries won't let them in.

But even people that have the privilege to travel often don't use it. And some of them, especially people in the USA, are appalled that you actively pursue traveling as a priority in your life. Nothing illustrates this more than the seemingly endless posts to the Peace Corps subreddit by people who get accepted to the Corps, announce it to family and friends, and are met immediately frustration, confusion and even anger.

Here's an example, which I've altered to exclude the country they are talking about, because it really doesn't matter:

This is something I’ve been looking forward to for years. I always thought about joining in highschool. I applied to the Peace Corps in 2020 after I got an undergrad degree. I just got an interview and a response. I’ve told my mom, boyfriend and a few friends so far and their responses have been like

"uhh aren’t there people trying to leave that country? That country is ugly, why would you go there? Why would you go to another country after your family has done a lot for you to be in the USA? Why can’t you just do that work in the US? You won’t be making any money? What's the point then?"

Welcome to being an international traveler and worker. Be prepared for these comments for the rest of your life. I get them all the time, family and from neighbors. But here's the good news: it is a kind of club you are joining when you travel abroad, with a diverse group of members who know there's a big world out there and they want to see some of it, experience some of it, and always have a little piece of it in their hearts and minds even when they are home. You meet other club members everywhere - small towns all over the USA even, not just big cities. They are fun to hang out with, CURIOUS, and are happy to know you. They make great neighbors.

Don't try to change anyone's mind about travel, especially international travel. Their mind is made up: they will never stop thinking that it's a waste, or inherently more dangerous than driving across town on a Friday night, or walking in a parking garage anywhere in the USA or being married. No amount of Instagram photos, magazine articles or statistics will ever change their mind, so don't bother. 

I no longer try to change the minds of the anti-travel folks. I just shrug and either keep talking about what a GREAT time I just have or move on to something else. 

And I keep adding to my folders with suggestions for things to see and do in other places - might be a place just an hour's drive away, might be around the world. 

And I keep meeting other club members. And oh the stories we tell... 

Our September 2022 motorcycle adventure

I hadn't been on an extended motorcycle trip since 2020, when we went to Baja, California, Mexico and the world got COVID. I had planned on going with Stefan to Colorado in 2021, but my dog was injured and I had to stay home (Lucinda the dog is fine now, BTW). 

And so, off we went, in September 2022, for 16 days visiting historic towns and eating biscuits and gravy and riding almost 3000 miles in Washington state, Idaho, Montana and Oregon. We stayed relatively close to home and decided to concentrate on historic, abandoned towns - ghost towns - most new to us, but at least one we've seen before, many years ago, and wanted to see again. 

We had really low expectations for the trip - and it turned into one of our very best.

The travelogue is here, with photos. Or, just go look at the photos. 

Highlights:

• This bed.
• Thirteen Mile Trailhead, because it also had campsites.
• Molson historic site in Washington state, right at the Canadian border.
• Ovando, Montana.
• Return to Garnet Ghost town in Montana.
• Return to Highway 12 / Lolo Pass in Idaho.
• Washington state road 129 and Oregon state road 3 from Clarkston, Washington to Enterprise (wow!).
• Crystal Crane Hot Springs (outside of Burns, Oregon).
• Stefan saving someone's life (yes, really).
• Return to the Alvord desert.
• Rediscovering how wonderful US395 North of Burns is to ride!

Recipe: Pasta e Fagioli (Italian Pasta and Beans)

According to Dean Martin's daughter, Pasta e Fagioli (Italian Pasta and Beans) was his favorite dish. She talked about it on a documentary about him shown on TCM and mentioned some of the ingredients she uses, and it was shown being made. I thought it looked delicious so I decided to find a detailed recipe and compare it to what she mentioned and adapt it all and put something together and try it. 

Ya'll, this is so freakin' good and does NOT take a long time to prepare. And, like most things, it can be made the day before you serve it and refrigerated for the next day, because it's even better after it's sat for that long.  

The recipe below makes 10 hearty servings - you could easily stretch it out to 15 if you have something else to serve or a big dessert. So you might want to half everything here if you don't have that many mouths to feed. 

Leftovers can also be frozen and heated for later. 

We ate it with spoons, but it's not very soupy. 

And it's vegetarian!

Here's the recipe I used:

INGREDIENTS

• 4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil (confession: I eye-balled it in the pot and I think I used more)
• 1 medium-to-large yellow onion, finely chopped (I used LARGE because of course I did)
• 2 carrots, finely chopped
• 2 ribs celery, finely chopped
• ¾ teaspoon fine sea salt
• 4 cloves garlic, pressed or minced (I used 6 and I chopped them)
• 1 can (15 ounces) crushed tomatoes
• 4 cups vegetable broth (I may have done 5)
• 4 cups water (though I used more - probably 6 total)
• 2 bay leaves (I used 6)
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano (I used Italian seasoning)
• 2 cans (15 ounces each) cannellini beans (Dean Martin's daughter uses 2 cans progresso cantalini beans), Great Northern beans, or chickpeas, rinsed and drained (or 3 cups cooked beans)
• 1 cup (about 4 ounces) Tortiglioni, according to Dean Martin's daughter - though other recipes say cavatelli, cantalini, ditalini, elbow or any small shell pasta will work
• 2 cups chopped Tuscan kale (recipe says tough ribs removed first). I just used whatever Kale was in the grocery. You can also use chard or collard greens
• ¼ cup finely chopped Italian parsley
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice (about ½ medium lemon)
• salt and ground pepper (fresh if possible) to taste
• optional: ¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes

Optional garnishes: Additional chopped parsley, black pepper, grated Parmesan cheese or light drizzle of olive oil

COOKING INSTRUCTIONS

In a large Dutch oven or soup pot over medium heat, warm 3 tablespoons of the olive oil until shimmering. Add the chopped onion, carrot, celery, garlic, ½ teaspoon of the salt, and about 10 twists of black pepper. Cook, stirring often, until the vegetables have softened and the onions are turning translucent, about 6 to 10 minutes.

Add the tomatoes, stir, and cook until the tomatoes are bubbling. Add the broth, water, bay leaves, oregano or Italian spices, and, if you have them and want them, the red pepper flakes.

Raise the heat to medium-high and bring the mixture to a simmer. Cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally and reducing the heat as necessary to maintain a gentle simmer.

Optional:

Use a heat-safe measuring cup to transfer about 1 ½ cups of the soup (avoiding the bay leaves) to a blender. Add about ¾ cup of the drained beans. Securely fasten the lid and blend until completely smooth, being careful to avoid hot steam escaping from the lid. Pour the blended mixture back into the soup. (Note - I didn't do any of this). 

Add the remaining beans, pasta, kale and parsley to the simmering soup. Continue cooking, stirring often to prevent the pasta from sticking to the bottom of the pot, for about 20 minutes, or until the pasta and greens are pleasantly tender.

Remove the pot from the heat, then remove and discard the bay leaves. Stir in the lemon juice, the remaining tablespoon of olive oil, and remaining ¼ teaspoon salt. 

Taste and season with more salt and pepper until the flavors are what you want. Garnish bowls of soup as desired, and serve.

Leftovers taste even better the next day. Allow leftover soup to cool to room temperature, then cover and refrigerate for up to 5 days. Or, freeze leftover soup in individual portions and defrost as necessary.