Dear Friends,
Yesterday was an interesting day in ways that are probably really not interesting to anyone but me. The short version is that we found out we will have a new principal next year as our current principal is moving over to the middle school next door. In my relatively short time as a classroom teacher, I will have worked for more principals than I have years of teaching.
This is not a good thing. I was kind of under the impression that I might get some time with my current boss. She’s been a good boss and I’m glad I will get to work with her for another four months, but I was hoping it would be longer.
The good news is that her replacement is our current assistant principal and she’s pretty great. How she will be as the big boss, though, remains to be seen. I think she wants me to stay, though, so that’s always a good thing. She and I also had a really good chat about the Cocaine Baby today, so much of my angst in that area is relieved.
*****
On the turd side, I am very bummed to hear that my friend, Tom, is going to need some extensive surgery on his back. Here is one of those situations where you want to do something but all you can really do is be there for when your friend needs you. I am here, though, and I got you, my friend, however I can.
*****
Spent some quality time with Granny yesterday, too. We had a really good chat about all kinds of things. Her mind is still so damn sharp. It gives me hope that my mind and body won’t get in a race to see which one can give out first.
I learn something every time I go to visit her. Something about her life or opinions or our family. I feel like I’m a sponge just soaking up whatever she has to share. I missed getting to do that in person so much during the Covid years. We talked on the phone, but it was just not the same. It’s such a blessing, though, to know that she is getting well cared for and for the first time, maybe ever, she seems to be consistently happy.
I know she had, in many ways, a very tough life. It would be very difficult to be a newlywed and have your Army pilot husband break his back. I’m sure was probably always a bit of a tough cookie and not the easiest to please if you were an adult or a peer, but she is an amazing grandmother. Even when she was being kind of kooky, I knew she loved me.
I’ve come to learn and realize that she deals with a lot of anxiety. It runs pretty strong in our blood, the ol’ anxious thought, and I don’t know why I couldn’t see it more clearly earlier in my life. Maybe I didn’t want to see it.
Sometimes, seeing things in others makes you see things in yourself. Shit…not sometimes. This voyage of self-discovery is a tough one. I need to quit with the sugarcoating here and just say it:
I have seen Granny’s anxiety, and it has helped me see mine. I’ve never wanted to see mine. I’ve been medicating it on my own and, for a short period about ten years ago, with the help of Lexapro. Booze has been a crutch way too much, even if I have hidden it well.
One of the realizations I have had in the last month or so is how much I leaned on beer the last three summers with Rhondi in Maine and me here. Part of my reason for making the decision to give up the beers is that I don’t want to be dependent on it to help me dull the anxiety. I have realized that I can talk to my friends and lean on them. I can write and lean on my knowledge of who I am and where I am and where I want to go. I will be good.
*****
Speaking of that, I really appreciate the folks who have reached out to me this week and told me they have my back. It’s been wonderful. That’s not why I wrote about my decision, but it certainly makes it easier and feels good.
I’m pretty used to being the guy people come to for help. I like being that guy. I love being the voice of reason or a kind ear or a shoulder to cry on. It’s good to know that I can count on others, too. I’ve always known that, for sure, but it still feels good to hear it.
*****
Some of you in my age range might remember the resurgence (maybe that’s not the right word…could have been an emergence, really) of the Grateful Dead in the late 80s. I knew a good handful of people from the punk scene who got really into them back in those days. I was curious, so I took the leap and bought a copy of Aoxomoxoa on CD.
I was familiar with some of their stuff. How could you not be if you liked to smoke weed and drop acid. I’d heard stories, of course, and had been a little fascinated by the stories I heard about the Dead shows in the 70s that some of my mom’s friends told while I was in earshot as a kid.
The cover of Aoxomoxoa was what prompted me to buy that particular disc. It is just about as psychedelic as you can get which was a good thing for me at the time in 1989. I took it home to my apartment on 7th Ave and Earll and when “St. Stephen” started coming out of my speakers, I was instantly hooked. To this day, I still love that song.
It was different, too, from just about everything I was listening to at the time, but also not. The songs are well-crafted and interesting and subversive. These are all qualities of music that I typically adore, so it was not a huge stretch for me to begin a slightly closeted Dead fandom. Luckily, as I mentioned, a lot of people I knew and loved were also beginning to appreciate the Dead.
One thing about Aoxomoxoa is that I wouldn’t recommend it as a for someone who wants to get to know the music of the Grateful Dead. I think the off-beat quirkiness of this record might be lost on a newbie. I also don’t know if the LSD these days is any good and this is a full-on acid record. Not long after I got this CD, I came home late one night after tripping with my friends and put it on and just blissed out.
I remember laying on my water bed in the dark listening to Aoxomoxoa feeling like I had made a wonderful life choice in picking it up. “Doin’ That Rag” made me smile, for sure, that night. I’ve been kind of partial to that one ever since, as well. It has a quality, like much of the record, that reminds in a good way of a combination of the Beatles and bluegrass music.
Aoxomoxoa was my Grateful Dead gateway drug. It opened the door for attending live shows and then grabbing a copy of Reckoning shortly after my first live experience. I’ve got a few more now, too. Seeing the band live was always a bit of a crapshoot. Out of the eight shows I saw, four were really good, two were okay, and two were pretty bad.
I guess that’s still batting over .500.
I like all of Aoxomoxoa. The album does have some different moods. While “St. Stephen” is jubilant and joyous, “Mountains of the Moon” is bit more contemplative. I like the latter quite a bit, but when “China Cat Sunflower” kicks in, it’s almost like another wave of psychedelia washing over the soul. Listening to “China Cat Sunflower” on headphones is rad. The way the album is mixed, you have a nifty guitar in each ear. At 3:40, it’s almost ready for the radio.
“What’s Become of the Baby” is just the Dead being the Dead. Admittedly, it kind of harshed my mellow on that first trippy listening back in 1989, but I lived to tell this tale. “Cosmic Charlie” finishes up the disc in Deadhead fashion. Smiles can get back on the faces and spinning and twirling can commence. Plant a flower and call it a day.
Tune in, friends. Drop it if you got it.
*****
See you tomorrow.
Check out the Costco sky
Purple and pink and grateful
like another kiss
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