Bringing the car around

1954 Chevy Bel-Air

I want to thank the owner of this antique 1954 Chevy for having brunch at Corner Bakery. What a gorgeous sight in shiny brown and white! Couldn't resist taking some photos, as there can't be all that many still out on the roads.

Howie and Fritz bought their '54 Chevy from the dealer in Pierce, Nebraska after they took driving lessons.  It was their first car, and the only vehicle they ever bought new.  It was a "pea green" two door Chevy.

After brunch I had missions and errands, an expiring Arboretum membership and expiring shoe store bonus points to tackle. Clicked on WRR, 101.1, Dallas' wonderful classical music station to find an all Mozart playlist for Wolfie's birthday. Suddenly one recording plunged me back a year. There I was sitting at Howie's bedside along with the hospice nurse. Each of us making our own sorts of notations as we watched Dad slowly fail accompanied by Mozart's birthday playlist on WRR.

In one of our dementia rabbit hole conversations, Dad demanded I open his room window then bring the Caddie around.  When I pulled up in the Caddie, Dad planned to climb out the window.  Together we would light out for parts unknown.

light out

vb

(intr, adverb) Informal to depart quickly, as if being chased

Collins English Dictionary – Complete and Unabridged © HarperCollins Publishers 1991, 1994, 1998, 2000, 2003

Dad did not depart quickly. The hospice nurse and I waited, breathed, prayed, drifted, until it was no longer Mozart's birthday.  I wrapped the cord around the small radio and placed it in a bag.

© 2013 Nancy L. Ruder

Hot time, summer in the suburb

The cows had a boom box.  They were grooving to the Lovin' Spoonful.

Back of my neck getting dirt and gritty. The cows were all bunched in the shade at 9:45 this morning.  My walk buddy wanted to take photos of the Haggard Farm -- OUR farm -- across the street from our homes and our Walgreens.  The farm is soon to be housing built by Toll Brothers*.  The development will have a farmsy name to make up for the loss of the breathing room in the middle of Plano.

We weren't breathing all that well as we walked along the barbed wire fence with traffic whizzing past.  It wasn't that we had Dirk Nowitzki sympathy sinus infections.  We were being bombarded with massive doses of grass pollen.

The llamas were under a different tree, probably listening to Peruvian flute music.  We walked toward the farm's tree-shaded drive with its modern day recycling carts.

Much of central Plano was part of the Haggard farm at one time.  We have Haggard Library, Haggard Park, and Haggard Middle School.

Although W. O. Haggard, Jr. married Merle, it was NOT that Merle Haggard.

I am still pleased that none of my sons turned twenty-one in prison doing life without parole.

Part of the Haggard farm property will become a new city park.  We walked all the way east to take some photos of the horses there.

It won't be an massive soccer field park, but a real open space park, thank heaven.

 *I would be much more crabby about this if the Toll Brothers were not the sponsors of the Metropolitan Opera's live Saturday broadcasts that bring me great joy on WRR, 101.1 FM.

© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder

Wednesday attitude adjustment

This in from the You Just Thought Your Day Was Rough Department:

When I left work at 5:15 or so, I turned on the car radio. My NPR station was still in its fall pledge drive, so I switched over to WRR 101.1 for some classical music. But, no, my favorite soap opera was still on the air. The Dallas City Council convened today at nine a.m., and WRR was still broadcasting live from the meeting.

The Council was considering Agenda Item 55 at that moment, and Deputy Mayor Pro Tem, Dwaine R. Caraway, was calling for the men "with the motails in the back row to please stand up." Now Councilman Caraway from District 4 is best known for his anti-sagging pants campaign, and he once appeared on Dr. Phil's t.v. show to promote it. The slogan for that campaign is, "Grandma says: Pull 'Em Up!" That's why I thought a "motail" was likely either a fashion statement or a bad hairdo.

The Deputy Mayor Pro Tem was actually asking the men in the back to rise so he could commend them for their plan to build "an unseedly motail," an extended-stay hotel that "meant quality." Don't know about you, but just contemplating this Candlewood Suites in all its unseedliness brought a smile to my tired face.

Next, Agenda Item 54 was reopened for consideration. Seems there hadn't been a proper request for speakers opposed to a drive-through bank in Subdistrict B-2 of Planned Development District 749, aka the Baylor Hospital Special Use District, the first time around. The opposed speakers were even more agitated than they would have been if they were called the first time, if that is possible, and even further off the topic.

The first woman directed her fury at the Council for "sitting up there eating your grapes and your prunes and not letting us comment..." The next speaker went off about Baylor Hospital, and how "they are killing people up there with surgeries they don't even need and the security guards threw me in jail when I walked out the back door of the lunchroom with a plate lunch even though I had a paycheck in my pocket and $8000, so I didn't even need to cash my paycheck, like I couldn't pay for the plate lunch, and they're killing people in there, I know 'cause I worked there."

I spend a lot of time trying to get my preschool council members to eat their grapes and their prunes. They tell rambling stories that often have nothing to do with the agenda item. Some of them have a lot of trouble pulling up their pants and remembering to flush. Still, most of them can tell the difference between a drive-through bank and a hospital.

I'm humming a little WWI ditty:

Pack up your troubles in your old kit-bag,
And smile, smile, smile.
Tuck in your motails, and smile, boys, that's the style.

And [Note To Self] next time, remember to buy the unseedly grapes at Albertsons!

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Sprinksfiration OR Surfing for divas

It is Easter, and an appropriate time to celebrate the miracle of spring arriving on the prairie. I can think of few experiences so astounding as to demand a Divine Artist than spring in Oklahoma. That vibrant, transparent washes of cobalt violet, cadmium yellow medium, permanent green light, Alizarin Crimson and New Gamboge burst forth from the thick, opaque, almost oily Burnt Sienna is a painter's ultimate creation mystery.



Heading north after the glorious Chihuly experience in Oklahoma City, I visit one of my favorite places in Edmond. The little Fink Park sits across the street south from the University of Central Oklahoma campus. When we lived in Edmond, the college was still named Central State, which is why the university radio station is KCSC fm., 90.1.

I have fond associations with Central State, which was primarily a teachers college in the late 1980s. My mother and I viewed a Crayola Dream-Makers exhibit of outstanding elementary student art there that fueled my first teaching ideas. A retired CSU professor of educational measurements re-evaluated my oldest son for the Edmond gifted and talent program after a dreadful assessment by a school counselor.


Fink Park at Spring Break

Now I can add a fondness for the all-classical radio station. Glad to find KSCS while station surfing for the Metropolitan Opera broadcast on two Saturdays. The Edmond station brought me parts of "Peter Grimes" and "Tristan und Isolde," and two presto rounds of the Met intermission quizzes. I could listen from Oklahoma City to Perry one week, and for brief flashes at the tiptop of the Arbuckle Mountains north of Ardmore the next.



A painting I made almost twenty years ago is still one of my favorites. It is based on sketches and photos from Fink Park at Halloween, but the sense of energy in the soil, the trees, and the sky is still very satisfying to me.



© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

4-4 Time

True, it is the final day of Early Voting in Texas, and so glad I was able to take advantage of that option on my in-service day. It was pretty busy at the polling place.

Alas, I missed most of my chances to place daily votes in the March 2008 March Countdown at WRR Classical FM. I try to get out the door and into the Buick every work morning in time to hear the March of the Day at 7:35 on the radio. It's a fun, energizing start to the day.

The "Six Sousa Marches" was one of my favorite Little Golden Records as a child. Little Golden Records were orchestrated by Mitch Miller and featured the Sand Piper Singers. I can never quite catch the wisp of lyrics in my memory, but the Sand Pipers sang on several of the Sousa marches. This particular record, EP 489, was released in 1958, about the same time as the motion picture, "Bridge On the River Kwai".

My former mother-in-law once told me that she really wanted a doorbell that played the theme song from "Bridge On the River Kwai". Did she want POWs to march over and open the door? What was that march the POWs were whistling?

Buzz! Our contestant knows. It's the "Colonel Bogey March". But who was Colonel Bogey?

I'm particularly fond of Prokofiev's march from "The Love of Three Oranges". You can hear Prokofiev play the march on YouTube.

Just in case you are finding your piece of Trivial Pursuit quiche just out of reach at the moment, General Custer's favorite marching music was the Irish drinking song "Garryowen".

What was the Monty Python theme march? Sousa's "Liberty Bell".

These were the results of the 2007 voting for favorite marches:

1. Stars and Stripes Forever (Sousa)


2. Imperial March (Williams)


3. Colonel Bogey March (Alford)


4. Aida Grand March (Verdi)


5. Washington Post (Sousa)


6. Liberty Bell (Sousa)


7. Seventy Six Trombones (Willson)


8. Marche Slave (Tchaikovsky)


9. Radetzky (J Strauss I)


10. Pomp and Circumstance March #1 (Elgar) *


11. Semper Fidelis (Sousa)


12. Grandioso (Seitz)


13. Raiders March from Raiders of the Lost Ark (Williams)


14. Procession of the Nobles (Rimsky-Korsakov)


15. Under the Double Eagle (JF Wagner)


16. Symphonic Metamorphosis March (Hindemith)


17. March of the Toreadors (Bizet)


18. Entry of the Gladiators (Fucik)


19. National Emblem (Bagley)


20. Barnum and Bailey's Favorite (King)
    

"Colonel Bogey" may have been the nickname of an eccentric British colonel and golfer in WWI. Some say the colonel whistled instead of shouting, "Fore!" at Inverness.

This colonel in plus-fours is not to be confused with General William Booth, the founder of the Salvation Army. Charles Ives' "General William Booth Enters Into Heaven" celebrates a struggle between two marching bands approaching and passing each other. Ives never forgot his boyhood experience of hearing multiple brass bands march by, their different tunes advancing, mixing and receding. I will never forget my experience hearing Andrew Litton conduct the Dallas Symphony Orchestra for a live recording of Ives' cacophonous piece while watching from nearly overhead.



"Battle of the Bands" and "March Madness" are common phrases. March came in like a lion, and tuned the radio to 101.1 FM. Enjoy your memory's Battle of the Marches.

© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder

Polonaise, not Polonium

Sitting at the red light, I wasn't revving my Harley. The Buick wasn't shaking with the output from it's custom car stereo system. It doesn't take all that much to make the Buick quiver, but the little Skylark was happily grooving to a Rimsky-Korsakov polonaise on WRR 101.1 f.m. Stunned that I was able to identify the music as a polonaise, I patted myself on the back for surviving Mrs. Bathel's piano lessons in the late Sixties, and cranked up the volume. That's when I realized the teenage passenger of the car in the left-turn lane was trying to get my attention. He seemed to be pointing at the Buick's backseat. Could it be that my volume was intruding upon his audio space? Was he a Nice Young Man alerting me to a malfunctioning brake light?

We both rolled down our windows a couple inches. "What is that???," he asked. So glad not to be the victim of a carjacking, I answered, "It's a papier mache lizard pushing a vacuum cleaner, but it's upside down back there!"




The lizard has resided in my office for six years, vacuuming day and night. My job ended today. Our little school site is now highly coveted real estate near the "High Five" interchange. The world of real estate development has enough scheming and coercing for Hamlet's Polonius and an assortment of spies. It is a sad day.

Rooney Rants

All week, like listeners to NPR and classical radio stations all over the world, I been hearing about the special programming for Mozart's 250th birthday bash in Salzburg today. I like Mozart a lot. I'd enjoy a birthday cupcake, particularly if it was devil's food chocolate with homemade frosting. Given Wolfie's era and proclivity, one of those doll cakes so popular at birthday parties in the Sixties might be appropriate.



All week during my commute to work I've been irrationally annoyed by the radio advertising phrase spoken in that nostril flaring I'm-such-a-cultured-wine-snob announcer voice, "The intermission is timed to coincide with the exact time of Mozart's birth. More than 100 churches in Salzburg will ring their bells for seven minutes. " How in the hey-ho do they know the exact time of Mozart's birth? Was it in the newspaper, or on the birth certificate? Was there a bright star shining above No. 9 Getreidegasse? A solar eclipse?

For nearly a decade I've had Andy Rooney attacks any morning when my radio commute was brought to me by Pockets Menswear. Just put a cocklebur under my saddle blanket, or a pea under the stack of mattresses. When I hear, "brought to you by Pockets Menswear, educating Dallas men to dress better than they have to since 1973," I just want to hurl. Pockets Menswear features "designs by Ermenegildo Zegna", which sounds like an untreatable illness characterized by itchy, oozing froo-froo cufflinks, pink neckties, and bright green liqueurs.

For a decade and a half I've been irrationally repulsed by Nicole Kidman. Sure, I hear she's a great actress, but when I see her face I have the fingernail-on-the-blackboard reaction. Maybe it's the spacing of her eyes in relation to her other facial features...Maybe it's something more sinister..Maybe she looks like the doll in a lime green frosting cake.

Robert's Rules Radio Soap Opera

Pledge drives drive me to other radio stations. Say it louder: Pledge drives drive me to other radio stations. I can't hear you! Hey, Public Radio! PLEDGE DRIVES DRIVE ME TO OTHER STATIONS!

Dear Terry Gross,

I enjoy your program, Fresh Air. I can only listen to it on Wednesdays. The trouble is, KERA had so many pledge drives that I started listening to the Dallas City Council meetings on WRR,101.1 fm on Wednesday mornings.

The City Council meetings, held on the 2nd and 4th Wednesdays of the month, are broadcast live from 9:00 A.M. through their conclusion if earlier than 6:00 P.M., or through 6:00 P.M. (subject to change).

Terry, I love that Dallas Mayor Laura Miller knows her Robert's Rules of Order, or at least has a good parliamentarian by her side. Robert's is the K-Y Jelly of business meetings :

Why is parliamentary procedure important? It is important because it's a time tested method of conducting business at meetings and public gatherings. It can be adapted to fit the needs of any organization. Today, Robert's Rules of Order newly revised is the basic handbook of operation for most organizations from congresses to clubs, so it's important that everyone know these basic rules.



Even if only a few of the people in attendance at a meeting actually understand the intricacies of parliamentary procedure, everyone is reassured that there is an underlying structure for the meeting. If there's structure, then everyone feels safer. They sense they will have a chance to speak without interruption, and without fear of personal attack. They sense the presence of a civilizing force and generally try to live up to it. Church boards, student organizations, Model United Nations , babysitting co-ops, and parent-teacher organizations all use Robert's Rules with success in my personal experience.

Maybe because people listen and watch so many programs with confrontational styles of interviews and panel discussions, they expect and behave with that style at meetings of all types. Lately the U. S. House of Representatives has gotten pretty close to a Jerry Springer Show segment. Then we have the splendid example of Dick Cheney presiding as president of the Senate offering barnyard anatomically impossible suggestions to Patrick Leahy. The Dallas City Council meetings could easily cross into that pattern if it weren't for the strong parliamentary structure. Instead of everyone yelling obscenities at once, order allows each participant to sound as knowledgeable, foolish, self-serving, or arrogant as they really are at the microphone. That the mike occasionally picks up the Mayor's muttered asides is just gravy. It's good radio drama and comedy.

I don't vote or even live in Dallas. I just listen for the entertainment value, Terry. It's so much more fun than a pledge drive.

Wish my condo association would practice a little Oil of Robert's to smooth the meetings. As soon as the president erroneously asks for a motion to call the meeting to order, I get a gavel-pounding headache. After that, all pretense of structure falls away. People ages 25-93 imitate Dick Cheney over earth-shaking issues of pooper-scooping and tree-trimming.

If you don't hunker down in a secret vice presidential bunker somewhere, but need to live in the world with other humans, parliamentary procedure is one of the most useful foreign languages you can pick up. There are dummy and idiot guides at the bookstore. You can get a quick guide to chairing a meeting or more detailed instructions on-line. Maybe there are even audio lessons for learning while you drive!

Dear Driver of Texas R90-ZNV,

I would like to send you a gift, so please contact me with your address. It is not the gift that you flipped me after you got my attention with that loud solo on your brass instrument at the intersection of Coit and Spring Valley at 2:55 p.m. today. I guess you were a tad peeved that I chose not to enter the intersection when the light was already changing from yellow to crimson. Your black Honda Accord with the cute little spoiler would have entered the intersection well into the red light. Back where I grew up polite ladies in their mid to late thirties like yourself would no more enter an intersection on red than wear white before Easter. Your hand gestures seemed to indicate your temper was hotter than the Starbucks you spilled in your lap. It is sad that you were two minutes late for your date with a head of lettuce in fresh produce at the Beltline Road Kroger's all because of me. It is sadder that you were following so close I could check out your retro Patti Duke flip hairstyle in my mirror. And so, I would really like to send you a cd. Just contact me, and a copy of WRR 101.1's "Road Rage Remedy" will be in the mail to you tomorrow.