Hair

Everyone is born with hair on their head. For some, it's a no-brainer to just have a naturally 'good head of hair'...for others, like me...it's a lifelong struggle.
You must have heard of 'Good Hair Days' when your hair is in excellent shape, and you're feeling good because of it, and the opposite of course is the Bad Hair Days....when you feel self-conscious and out of sorts, because your hair just looks bad or awkward. I remember the 'Dorothy Hamill' cuts, the 'Farrah' cuts..and those were good haircuts, for what they were worth at the time, and it made them look cute.... The guys just had long hair...or bad hair, but then they could always go to Supercuts, and get a disco haircut...
I suppose...and I don't want to sound too sexist here...that it affects women more than men, in that visceral way...but I am here to tell you that it has truly affected me too, I'm not immune.
On my mom's side, all of the men went bald, or at least lost their hair by the time they were in their 50's.
On my Dad's side, they all kept a full head of hair...
When I was a kid, my dad insisted on smearing Vitalis all through my head and he combed it himself...Back...he had the same haircut his whole life.
When I was a teenager every guy had 'long hair' so I did too, and it looked like crap (just look at any high school yearbook in the 70's and you'll see what I mean).
When I went to college my hair had gotten longer and I would blow-dry it...to straighten it...then one day after swimming I noticed it would dry up in ringlets, and at the time I thought it was cool. My hair became my Lion's Mane.
When I was in my 30's I noticed a change...Oh No!
My hair was getting thinner in the front, at first it was no big deal, but then I began to freak out as I was definitely going bald. I would run my hand through the top of my head, and the hairs would come out with fragility and ease...then I would do the same to the back of my head, and those hairs were still sturdy.
I used to panic...I would try to comb forward the hair I had left. And as less and less hairs came forward, the more self-conscious I would become. Then in about 1998 I went to an old-fashioned barber and got old-fashioned haircut...that set me right...the haircuts of old-fashioned barbers can still make me look clean cut.
Since then I have lamented my hair loss...'Male Pattern Baldness' they call it....though, I have accepted it. I will never do anything as cheesy as get a 'hair-weave' or get a rug or anything like that...and I'm definitely not ready for the Shaved Head thing...oh no. I miss my mane...
Though I do need to get good haircuts, to preserve what I got left...
though I do miss my mane...

Make sure to practice

In an earlier blog, I lamented about what it would be like to play a musical instrument wonderfully and easily, as though the notes flowed through as a natural thing, well that's just wishful thinking, though I still do believe it just comes naturally for some people.
Anyway, in any discipline it takes work, and practice. I remember a quote by Rick Wakeman, "If you think this looks easy, it's not...if anyone wants to play an instrument, you must practice, practice, practice. I can't emphasize that enough..."
And it's true, to be good at something is one thing, but to be great at it...or at least exceptional, we must practice at it...
I am out of practice at so many things, I can't count them. Not that I was great at anything, I'm good at some, but...
I am out of practice playing the trumpet.
I am out of practice using 3D Studio Max.
I am out of practice playing golf.
I am out of practice drawing the human figure.
I am out of practice keeping in touch with distant friends.
I am out of practice letting current friends know how much I appreciete them.
I am out of practice getting on a plane and traveling.
I am out of practice ice skating.
I am out of practice feeling spiritual, *in tune with nature* and that sort of idealism.
To name a few....
But I'm very much IN practice noticing the things in which I'm out of practice, which I suppose is a good thing.
And though I'm dull at all these things, it's not to say that can't get back IN practice...just like riding a bike.

Christmas songs

As I plug through each night at Safeway, there is the nonstop music soundtrack playing over the PA, 24-7....Sometimes I wonder how often they have to replace the speakers or sound system, but on it goes....
I've asked who comes up with the playlist, because I hear the same songs in other safeway stores, the obvious answer: It comes from "corporate"...but Somebody, like an actual human being, must choose the songs, and I must commend them.
Last Monday they started playing Christmas songs, traditional carols, some old, but also new versions by artists that I had no idea even did Christmas songs. These songs cheer me up.
I've always enjoyed the Holiday season, and part of it is the music. From the traditional evocative carols like "O Holy Night" to the Gene Autry version of "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" (which he wrote!)...it's a festive time of year.
Just about every singer of any level of fame has done a 'Christmas Album' like Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Barbra Streisand, Amy Grant, and a host of others. I also like the song that goes, "A ship came in from beyond the sea, on Christmas Day, on Christmas Day..." (I don't know the title)
My personal favorite is a most unusual duet by Bing Crosby and David Bowie singing "The Little Drummer Boy"...it's very well done...
And to my surprise, all of these are on the safeway playlist.
Have a great Holiday Season everybody!

Ugly...

I spent some time going through long lost photographs and arranged them in albums...I noticed photos of myself when I was younger...okay, hmmm I guess I was a nice looking guy, sure...okay.
Today I looked in the mirror and all I could see was Ugly...
Oh man, I can understand the test of time, the years, and the toll it takes on all of us...
Today I looked like shit....
Maybe it's the insane hours lately, whatever...
When I look in the mirror tomorrow, hopefully I won't see an Ugly face.

RAIN

It's raining right now, I can hear it on the roof, I can hear it on the tin carport outside...I can hear on the side of the house as the overflow spashes down on the ground.
It's rain.... it's water...it's sheltering.
At the risk of sounding weird, I have always known that rainy days equates with feeling sad, feeling depressed, especially that it's now known that the lack of sunlight during the winter months can indeed lead to a diagnosed physical depression.
I am completely aware of that finding and that study.
Yet however....all my life....I mean since I was a kid!....I have loved the rain.
When it rains I close my eyes and feel the water come down, like a cleansing thing....
It's the sound, and the idea that water is falling all around...I'm hypnotized by it...
But of course, not too much rain! not to cause flooding! Like in Washington State a few days ago!
oh hell no!...that's like the Earth spanking you, like any natural disaster.
no it's the gentle rain...that's when the Earth kisses you.

"Aunt Ada"

In the summer of 1985, I was still basking in the cultural afterglow of my trip through Europe from 3 years before. It will always be one of the most memorable experiences of my life. It was a six month trek. To be honest, my regret is that I didn't 'connect' enough with people. As is my nature, I stayed on the periphery, an observer, not one who participated or engaged. I got invited to a music festival in Ireland but I declined, because it was out of my comfort zone of catching my scheduled train, and getting back to my hotel room. My hotel rooms over the years have been my home, my lair, my sanctuary, even if it was sometimes just a 'room'....
Oh, there were times when I linked up with fellow travellers for a few days, and I did meet some wonderful and interesting people, from all countries.
So in '85, my passport was still valid, and I had some money saved, so I thought it would be fun to go back, or at least go back to London....next to San Francisco or New York, one of my favorite cities in the world....only this time, it wouldn't a long extended trip through Europe, this would be only a short trip, maybe 2 or 3 weeks...and if there was time, Paris too.
I had worked with a girl named Patty at North Star Computers in San Leandro, CA back in '83 and '84, and we became good friends...
She said, "ohh! you should go and visit my aunt Ada! she lives in Dunfermline, Scotland, near Edinburgh!"
So off I had went....
This time, I considered myself a seasoned traveler...at least, when I landed in London I wouldn't be some greenhorn, I would know what to do, and which trains to catch. I went to the same hotel even, on Old Brampton Road, and the same guy was there. He was from India, there's a huge population of Indians there in London...
"I stayed here three years ago!"
"Did you? Splendid!" he didn't remember me at all.
So, I decided to go up to Scotland, about a 4-5 hour train ride to Edinburgh. I got there about 5 PM and then I would go visit 'Aunt Ada' the next day. Dunfermline is about 90 minutes away, across the huge Firth of Forth, a grand sea inlet.
The next day I arrived about noon in Dunfermline at the small train station...One thing I did alot there was walk, which I don't mind, I love walking....I had her address, but no phone number, so I figured I'd walk to her house, and, if she wasn't home at least I'd leave a note. In my shyness I secretly hoped she wasn't home.
Her house was one of those typical brick rowhouses. I walked up and knocked...An old lady answered...
"Hello! my name is Dan, I'm a friend of Patty's visiting from America..."
"Oh yes! I knew you were comin'!...come in! come in!"
So I went in and she just chatted away...."would you like some tea?"
"would you like a tart?"
I noticed a calender on her wall with the Golden Gate Bridge, and immediately the connection with half a world away became very local as she also showed me pictures of Patty's sister's wedding. She was a very sweet and talkative old lady, at 72...full of energy and she seemed delighted to have me as a visitor.
I had originally planned to visit for just an hour or so.
"I do need to go to town for a wee bit, will you walk with me?"
"Oh yes, of course!"
So off we went, it became a tour of the entire town. She did her shopping, we visited the ruins of the old catherdal, the Andrew Carnegie Museum, all the while she chatted and I listened. And I was sure to ask questions...especially historical questions, like about the the Clans of Scotland, Bonnie Prince Charlie, Hadrian's Wall, etc...
"ohhh, well don't know too much aboot that...there are stones here and there..."
She talked a lot about her family, her late husband, though sometimes her thick accent was a little hard to understand.
"He's roon throon the geote, like wooond!"
"umm, he ran...I'm sorry, like....?"
"like woooond!"
"like wind? oh! he was a runner!"
"oh yehhh!"
That's when I realized I was being ignorant in my asking about such esoteric things.....It would be like someone asking if they knew about Cowbows and Indians here in the States...to other than a historian, it means nothing other than just legends and stories. And yet, this Island is filled with a ton of history.
And then we visited her neighbor Bob...as she chatted away, Bob gave that hand motion to me, indicating 'yak yak yak' which I found amusing...
It was getting near 5 PM, and I mentioned that I'd need to be catching my train back to Edinburgh at 6:30....
"oh! well let's go eat then!"
We went to a little fish and chip shop in town, and I must say, it was delicious...
But as it was getting close to 6:30, she had Bob drop us off at her daughter's house. It was then that I realized that they had been out of touch for awhile, because the two grandaughters ran and embraced her, like they hadn't seen her in ages.
At first they seemed uncomfortable, especially the husband, like they didn't get along, he said nothing to Ada....but I think I was the 'Excuse' for her to come over....to bring an American, who they don't see much of, in small towns up there...and, always wanting to be a good ambassador, I chatted with them in a most friendy way. I could see they were preparing dinner, and the mom graciously offered to have us, much to the dad's discomfort...but I totally sensed it, as anyone would....I said, "No, thank you but I really need to catch that train!"
So Ada, her daughter, grandaughter and me all got in the car to give me a ride to the station, not too far away so their dinner wasn't too ruined...the dad seemed relieved anyway...
It was at this time that I felt an important need to communicate...just Talk!...(just Talk Dan, just start talking...say anything! everyone else does, just talk!) I know I'm a quiet person, but I thought it would be good for them to at least hear a foriegn accent at length. As foreign as their Scottish accents sounded to me...I knew I sounded just as foreign to them. And sure enough, they asked questions about the States and all that.
It had to take until that ride....but to be fair, this was the only time I had a stage.
As for Aunt Ada, we exchanged postcards for a couple of years, but then it tapered off...
I think she was lonely then, and my visit was something different. I'd like to think she spent more time with her family after that...I haven't spoken to Patty in years either...I should look her up and ask about aunt Ada, though she'd be 93 now...I wouldn't put it past her to still be alive and kickin'. She was that way.

"And still, we live..."

Okay, not to bring this up again...but on July 3, 2001...when Troy announced that I had been laid off, After the proper goodbyes, after they closed their door...I vaguely heard, "And Still...We Live"
I knew precisely what he meant by that, and what that was from....the movie, "Seven Samurai"...
an excellent film...'And Still, We Live'.... was a line when everyone had died and only a few had lived from an epic battle...
He meant that whatever was left of the company, that they might survive...In spite of those who would be cast adrift... I was one...
'And Still, We Live'.....
In 1988, I found myself hanging on a window ledge, I could not believe this situation...I found myself hanging by my fingers on the ledge, and my feet way over on the fire escape.
My grip was not good....down I went.
I crashed down and the first thing I did was put my glasses on, as if nothing happened, but my left side was basically broken...
"And still, I live."
FAST FORWARD!
okay these are crazy stories, there are tons, but I won't delay them here....
I woke up today to an empty driveway where my car used to be, and I lament...I picked up my kitty and looked out at the truck...
"And Still, We Live..."
.

Safeway III 'The Night Crew"

Retraction! After venting last night, I had a really good time at work and realized that it's all about my own attitude. Any job, like any aspect in life, is what you make it.

My Pleasure

I grew up with the certain sense that it's always important to be polite...'please and thank you' were definite staples in my social upbringing. And to this day they are, and will always be....
Though today, a very small incident made me realize something...a small social kindness can make your heart soar....
As you may have read recently, I've been working at Safeway, where they really drum it in, that the customers are king, where customer service is number one...and you MUST treat customers with kindness, service, and respect!
Well that part was never too hard, helping people find things, with a quickness and a social competence...okay, fine, I can do that...
until I experienced such a thing outside of work...
As I left an art store today, a woman in a motorized wheelchair whizzed by, with a strawberry Icee or Slurpee and she dropped it...
"Oh Damn!"
Now...there was a time when I would have just side-stepped or walked by, fearing those in wheelchairs who shun help, or even resent it...that would have been my excuse...but NO...
AUTOMATICALLY!
"Oh, can I grab that for you?
"oh! thank you...what a mess!"
"my pleasure, noooo, it's not a mess!"
"oh yes it is! ohhh look at this!"
"Don't worry Maam! the boys here will clean this up!"
It was automatic...in a stride...customer service...
and I felt good about it, a natural kind...

Our cars

> Okay was trying to link thru flickr, that damn thing...but
> whatever...let's get to it...
> Here's the cars I have owned...
> And also the point I was intending to make...that all of the
> automobiles that any of us have owned, or even ridden in, from the
> excellent family cars, to the beater cars, they remain as a sort of a
> 'member of the family' or at least a 'buddy' car.....
> My point here is this...they are simply machines, but we spend hours
> and hours in our cars, and they're OUR cars, yours and mine.
> They're our friends, our companions, our children, and sometimes even
> lovers...
> And we do love them, we look after them...and sometimes when they let
> us down, we hate them and feel betrayed by them...and still they are
> there...and we need them.
>
> 1) 1974 Ford Pinto -in 1976 - This was my first car, and I had gotten my first
> job at Great America in Santa Clara, CA and was about to even graduate
> high school...my dad had said, "okay, if you can get a job, and find a
> car, I'll match it..."
> So me and my dad found a nice little Ford Pinto at a used car lot, in
> very good condition, and the fact that I paid some at the time,
> maintained the fact that this was My Car.
> I changed the oil in My Car for the first time...I bought new tires
> for My Car and everything that goes with that.
>
> 2) 1976 Triumph -pm What a 'Diva' that car was...It drove like a
> son-of-a-gun through the country roads, it handled like a
> beauty...but, like a Diva, things would break down all the time, to
> the point where it became a burden to repair the brakes right after I
> was done with repairing the radiator, and the the electrical system
> would give out....sheeesh.
>
> 3) 1984 Toyota Truck - This was my first purchase of a New vehicle and
> it was a big huge puchase...it had only 8 miles total on it...and it was mine! Though I did have the post-purchase-panic about the whole thing. Nevertheless, the truck was mine, and I drove the hell out of that thing all through the 80's...until my dad needed a truck, so off it went to him....and he took good care of it...
I always learned from him, and also my grandpa, to always take care of your cars, and to change the oil, that's the main thing....

4) 1986 Alfa Romeo - which I bought used in 1990... Ohhhh mman, here I bought this really cool car, leather seats....I was in my element, I was young, guys I worked with said "ooo! you could get chicks with that car!"
I was more like, "ummm, yeah sure.." it was just more having the car.
The guy I bought it from was a European guy..."She's a lady, she needs to be maintained!"
And I did...a human being and also an automobile at the time. It was then I learned the term, 'high maintenance'...
But that Alfa was a dream for a time...I remember meeting my parents up at Lake Tahoe, my dad and I took a drive up to the north shore....with the top down...
"Man, this thing hugs the curves!" my dad would say, as we drove back at 80...when we should have been going 50....I think he was just nervous about those high curves, but the car took them, it had new Pirelli tires...
But it was another Diva...oh those divas...it got to a point where I couldn't smog it, therefore I couldn't register it, I couldn't idle it long enough to even smog it...so I sold it...it wasn't about the oil anymore...it was long after I was out of that 'cool' element anyway....
She abandoned me on a bridge one night, alone, I hated her for that.
5) 1980 Honda Accord - The ultimate 'beater' car...At the time, I had only the Alfa and was commuting from Oakland to Novato, CA...so, to save miles, I bought a used Honda Accord from one of the ads you see in the paper, with 109,000 miles on it, and it was in good enough shape, so I used that to commute...during this time I moved up to Marin...and to a new job...and soon after I was stuck with two 'Divas....the Alfa and the Honda...
6) 1997 Honda Civic - My only second 'new' car, with only 6 miles on it, it ran like a charm in all the time I had it, up until lately (see next post)...
7) 1984 Toyota Truck - yes, the same one...back, like an old and trusted friend, tired and somewhat sad, seeing as where he's been...regularly serviced when my dad had it...
But yes, even though it's just really a machine, it's a friend...a good one.