We Are Family

Los Angeles, California

Sometimes the universe offers you an unexpected opportunity for connection. At the concerts I recently attended, there was such a sense of unity in the appreciation for the artists, as well as an intense enjoyment of the music. Even our gladness for the wonderfully pleasant evening weather we experience here for much of the summer (heatwaves not withstanding). It was such a unique experience that I wrote two (2 !!) posts about it here. What was going on? I postulated that with all of the profound awfulness going on in our country and beyond, the opportunity to join and share the joy of the music and the generosity of the artists performing, led to an almost frenzied elation.

It is good to feel a part of something. A relationship. A friendship. A family. As I've written before, I don't have my own family. I did not have children. There weren't many cousins, and now, none that I know. The generations before us are long gone. I have been very fortunate to have friends who have included me in their families. Lucky to have met Lynnette's siblings almost from the start of our friendship. And my frister, Connie, who reached out to me in my darkest time and subsequently included Joel and me in their family holiday celebrations. The ironic thing about not having my own family at this time in my life is that I was always someone who relished and looked forward to our family celebrations. I guess life can be funny like that.

So, family-in-a-good-way is how I describe those friendships that can often be better than family and closer than just friends. It is why I use the portmanteau frister to describe those girlfriends who are indeed, closer than friends and better than sisters. These friends mean the world to me, as I have written about, maybe ad naseum, here. I just can't express enough how much these people, some in my life for a decade or less and others for many more, mean to me.

Recently, the family thing came up in a couple of other ways. The first came up as I was lying face down on a massage table. I was with my physical therapist who was doing a treatment for my shoulder. His name is William, and he is wonderful. We talked through all of my sessions, as he did his work and I spoke, muffled through the opening in the massage table. Something that we were talking about led me to exclaim that I have no family. And he immediately responded, Yes, you do. You have us. It is a family business; brothers, a spouse, daughters. It touched my heart that he would say that.

And then, in the middle of all of this therapy, I took my shoulder bursitis to the Hollywood Bowl for the Mellencamp concert. It was a warm night but Connie convinced me that I might need a jacket. It spent its time slung over the back of the bench seating. That is, until it fell down. When I picked it up and turned to replace it, I asked the concertgoers behind us if it was ok that my jacket was hanging there into their space. Of course, they answered. We're family.

And, of course we were a kind of family that night, as we joined together to enjoy (and participate in, as there was much singing and swaying) John Mellencamp's very joyous music. Maybe not having a family makes me appreciate those familial moments when someone includes you, even if just by word and for only a moment.

I grew up with Sly and the Family Stone singing We are Fam-i-ly. I never thought about that song much and it is not included in my large iTunes library. But it has been running through my head ever since those two experiences. And how much, in such small ways, we can make people feel a part of our shared experience on this rocky planet. Maybe, after all, we can create a family even if just for a moment  during a concert or when getting to know a family that provides care, as in the case of my physical therapists. Just pondering that brings a warmth to my heart, especially welcome in this currently turbulent world.

Conflict Entrepreneurs

Los Angeles, California

I was reading something recently. This would be a better start to the story if I could cite the source, but it might have been on the site On Being. I subscribe to this and I truly wish I would read/listen to everything they offer as it is a profoundly enlightening source. But, there are simply too many apps and podcasts in my life, so I tend to connect in scattershot fashion. Regardless of whether it was on their site or another (NY Times, anybody?), I want to share that I picked up a term that I found interesting.

Have you ever been in a conversation with someone and suddenly a non-sequitur, a loaded one at that, gets lobbed into the conversation? And, these days, it is usually of a political nature. I have spent my life amidst contrarians. Neither of my parents were, but my sister's late husband seemed to relish taking opposing views, just for the fun of it. After they first married, my sister and I were having a debate about whether cutting your hair makes it grow faster. She felt it did, which is of course ridiculous. My brother-in-law entered the conversation but before weighing in, he asked who had taken which side. I suppose it is to his credit that he wanted to support his wife, but... not to split hairs here, wasn't that a bit... dishonest? And, just to be clear, hair is dead. How can doing anything to the dead ends of it affect what happens at the scalp and follicle? I mean, trimming the ends can make your hairstyle look better, but speeding up the growth? Uh, no.

Here's the thing, if you have these contrarians in your life, you might notice that they like to find opportunities to lob something at you; some viewpoint or topic about which they already know you don't agree. And it comes in the midst of a conversation having nothing, and I mean NOTHING to do with that about which you have been conversing. You're talking about baseball and bam! Here comes a comment about election fraud. You're talking about a friend's travel plans and whack! Here comes a comment about liberals and socialism. You're talking about a movie you've seen and wham! Here comes a comment about Governor Newsom. I'm not a huge fan of Newsom. I would say I'm kinda neutral as I like some things about him and other things not too much. Grey area, people! Frankly, it is not my job to defend everything that is happening on the liberal end of the spectrum. And, should I want to engage about some liberal or conservative issue, I would prefer to have it served up in an honest manner, not snuck in and dropped like something Wile E. Coyote obtained from Acme Products, Inc.

The article talked about these people and referred to them as conflict entrepreneurs. They are the ones who get off on stirring things up, and they are always on alert for opportunities to do so. And, we innocent ones, wander into this in complete oblivion to the fact that it is lurking. Just waiting for its space to drop. So, generally, we are taken by surprise and have no response until later when we crawl out from under the boulder, alone, (beep-beep) and there is no longer any opportunity to address.

I like to think of myself as a student of human nature. I am fascinated by people; everyone so different and so interesting as they paddle around in our mutual duck pond. So I find it a challenge to figure out what these people get from this behavior. And, whether it comes from some misguided sense of competition. Or low self-esteem (that one's been overworked)? Envy? Or maybe they just don't have the gene to engage in a back-and-forth, adult discussion of issues. They just want to get their own stuff out there, without having to deal with a response.

My father used to say about my grandmother: Don't confuse me with facts as my mind is made up. I was too young to get a sense to what exactly this referred to about my grandmother. I grew up co-mothered by her, but after a short bout of dementia, she passed away in my mid-teens. I do recall her being opinionated. Not a bad thing in grandmothers, especially if it comes with ice cream and candy bars, as it did in Grandma Lillian's case. But I digress...

I like this term: Conflict Entrepreneurs because these people are kind of in the business of conflict and contrarianism. It's not an art. Still, I wonder if they ever sense in any way that they are kind of spitting in the wind. Why not just come inside? Sit down and have a real conversation. Keep the volume down. Stop referring to you people. And, for the love of heaven, stop lobbing your opinions at me. Why are you suddenly expressing your exasperation at illegal immigration? Weren't we just talking about all the pumpkin products at Trader Joe's...?

Cocktails and Snacks

Los Angeles, California

Recently, I had some friends over for dinner. Well, kinda. Actually, they picked up dinner from a local healthy chicken outlet; white or dark meat chicken and two sides. They brought me the Chinese chicken salad I requested.

In anticipation of their arrival, I did some of the things I used to do when entertaining. I set the table, putting out plates, and cutlery wrapped into cloth napkins. I set out glasses for Pelligrino (nobody, I mean, nobody seems to drink any alcohol these days), and a dish of Japanese rice cracker mix. In days of yore, this would have been cheese and olives. And nuts. But as I kept wrapping those things up after guests left, I noticed that nobody, I mean, nobody was eating appetizers or cocktail snacks. The snacks thing makes sense, I guess. No cocktails; no snacks.

The dinner they brought was delicious, as was our lively conversation. No dessert, they refused the cake I had picked up at Trader Joe's (seriously, those little quarter-sheet cakes at Trader Joe's in a myriad of flavors? So tasty! Why bake?). Coffee, anyone? No. They left around 8:30, which is the time we used to invite guests to arrive. I get it. I'm not quite the night owl I used to be. Although when Lynnette is here, we have to force ourselves to stop playing dominos/Yahtsee/Ticket to Ride, around midnight, or so. But as a rule, I'm happy to part with friends around ten or eleven at night. After they left, I did what little dishes there were and watched the entire Dodgers game that I had missed but recorded. And, I ate cake.

And this all takes me back to the recent Mellencamp concert, where I was seated next to a 62 year-old Delta flight attendant whom I joined in drinking, dancing, and singing along with most of the audience. It was so joyful, and I remarked to Joel the following day that I think I need some younger friends.

Don't get me wrong. I love every one of my friends and enjoy the time we spend together. I have winnowed out the losers, and reunited with my ex-best friend, which has been beyond a blessing. But part of spending time with some of these friends is in the awareness that many seem to be eschewing culinary and other pleasures and some of that group are even tracking their personal numbers: Alcohol intake; steps; calories; carbs; glucose. Isn't just knowing these numbers, much less following them daily,  a little... self-absorbed? Like, a new rendition of '60s navel-gazing?

I recently had an incident where my blood pressure was elevated. My ex-best, Cin, suggested I track my BP, logging the numbers over a two-week period so I can report it to my doctor. I thought this was a good idea. I don't normally have high blood pressure, nor do I have either elevated cholesterol or glucose. I take no medication for any of these things. Do I know what my numbers are? No. I just know that my doctor tells me I'm in normal range, and that is fine with me. I want to sing and dance at rock concerts, not look at numbers on my phone. I don't have nor want an Apple watch nor Fitbit. I just don't understand this obsession with daily tracking of the functions of our bodies.

So, tracking my blood pressure, while glad that I did, reminded me of how much I don't want to track these things in my life. I want to dance a lot, drink alcohol when the occasion arises, attend concerts and other events. I want to eat, within reason, everything I want to eat. This might make me sound shallow. I'm not. I'm just retired! And, Cin, the ex-best-now-better friend, remarked to me that as much as she has enjoyed seeing Sarah McLachlan together twice last year, she also wants to attend a concert together where we stand and dance and sing. See, I'm not the only one.

Dolly Parton just died, and it is all anyone is talking about. And rightly so. She was beloved for all she did and was. And in no small part, isn't that about the exuberance and joie de vivre that she demonstrated throughout her life? It wasn't just her hair that was large, she surely lived large. So her death at 80 seems premature, but on the other hand, what a lot she packed into those years. She should be the spirit animal for all of us.

Going forward, I will continue to set out cocktail tidbits for my guests. I will continue to offer them cocktails, beer and wine (mine is a full-service operation). I will continue to pay exorbitant fees for concert tickets (because I want to sit close to the stage). And I will stay up late, because I can. Life is short. The remainder of our days have dates. Numbers. Those are the only numbers I want in my awareness while I continue to live, eat, drink, dance, and sing throughout all of the days ahead.