Alone Again, Or

Los Angeles, California

My houseguests have left, and I am sitting at my kitchen table, next to the window, during a thunderstorm. Summer thunderstorms are not common in our area, but not totally rare either. So far, no rain has fallen, but the thunder has been cracking-loud, startling both Ana, my homekeeper, and myself. We had the most wicked heatwave just two weeks ago, after quite mild June, and early July, weather. Weather sites reported that the high temperature for Friday, July 8th, in my area of Los Angeles, was 117. The following day, my Lyft driver reported that we were in a cooling trend. His car showed the temperature as 112, whereas the day before it had read 122.

I Lyfted to Todd and Christopher's home to attend the Jennifer Hudson concert at The Hollywood Bowl with them, and with Christopher's friend, Brian. It was a steamy night, but special, as always, to be there under the stars with good friends. Christopher prepared ceviche, which we lettuce-wrapped, and an excellent farro salad.

This past weekend the weather was perfect for hanging out by the pool with Karen and Greg. We celebrated Bastille Day with Sheet-Pan Coq au Vin, brie and bread, and ratatouille. I baked a peach cake. Joel came for a rack of lamb dinner the next night. Ratatouille again, but diverting the brie to a Port Salut. In the beating-things-to-death-with-a-stick department, I can never have enough cheese, if it is really good cheese. Fat, in one of its most tantalizingly, party-in-my-mouth incarnations. It also has protein, though anyone who eats it for protein is surely fooling themselves, for it is certainly not a good choice due to the high fat content. Rather, it's a treat, a guilty-pleasure, and much, much better for dessert, or as the anchor of that occasional, decadent, guilty-pleasure meal with crusty french bread (nary a whole-wheat grain in sight) and some mustard and tarragon vinaigrette-dressed leaves. I get excited just thinking about it.

This has been one of the best summers in recent years, shared with lots of friends and events. I am free of responsibility except to Joel and my other peeps, and to my house. I think I deserved a good summer. After all that has happened in my life, including the puzzling loss of a close friendship last year, I now accept that depression can descend and encircle me without much notice. My therapist and I parted last summer, with her reminding me that I have all the tools in my toolbox. I have to keep an eye on that toolbox! As well as to make sure I have a balance of the elements that keep us all upright in our lives: Spirituality; satisfying intimacy; soul-touching friendships; meaningful endeavors; fun and joyfulness; exercise; varied and interesting diet (sans kale and quinoa for the most part); sleep; reading quality literature; listening to music across the spectrum of genres, except rap and hip hop, and not even Hamilton hip hop (the kale of Broadway... I know, I know. I'm just saying).

The boys of summer, the Los Angeles Dodgers, are now in first place in their division at the start of the second half of the season. With three good opportunities to see them play coming up: in Oakland August 7th; Seattle later that month, and late September in San Francisco. Lynnette and Jim will be in attendence at two out of the three, so there's an opportunity to enjoy games with my favorite Dodger opponent fans! All the while staying out of Dodger Stadium. What a good thing...

But, with all this fun and the frivolity of a barefoot and candlelit summer, the truth is, it's pretty ugly out there right now. My suggestion is to do what I am doing: try to shelter from what is going on with the people in our country, and in the world. For now, take time out to enjoy the fun and leisure of summer as it moves along. Swim, drink IPA and rosé, laugh crazily as you play games with friends (we've been playing a baseball game that is hilarious). Read good books by the pool or on the beach. Travel to far or near places. Have gratitude for all that you can. For between the spaces of pain, loss, fear, and the worst: disillusionment, there truly can be blissful contentment. Sometimes you just have to take a great big breath, reach out, and appreciate it all. Life comes with no warranties; and a big price tag. You can't haggle, so just hand your credit card over. But always make sure first that you are signed up for the rewards.

Thank you for spending time reading this blog post during your lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer!

BFF

Los Angeles, California

My frister, Lydia (on these pages aka LOL), took me to a Dodger game on Monday night. Dodgers went into the game about three games ahead of San Francisco. We were playing the San Diego Padres; Clayton Kershaw pitching.

Lydia and I usually go to a game or two each season, and it is late in the season for us to finally get to our first game together. I had to kinda suggest, which is probably not appropriate since they are her tickets. But it is an annual ritual that I didn't want to miss. She owns a third of a full season package; two seats, loge level just under the reserve deck overhang. Perfect.

The season is winding down, and some of the concessions were closed. We went in search of nachos for Lyd and draft Stella Artois beer for me, which took us first to club level then to reserve. Then we settled down to watch the game. It was my third game this season, second Kershaw outing, the first one with Lydia, and my first win. And it was a stellar game where the Dodgers got nine runs, and, perhaps (as I haven't looked this up) an unprecedented three-error play where the ball got thrown away not once, not twice, but thrice. The fans were in stunned silence when this happened. I murmured, unbelievable. Lydia said: That was nasty.

But a win is a win. Kershaw stayed in through the eighth, and we hung in through the ninth. Lydia is now a lady of leisure, having retired from LA Unified about a week ago. She is busy plotting out what this next part of her life will be about, and this will be interesting to see. Also, it is never too soon to start thinking about life after baseball which will commence in about six weeks.

Meanwhile the Dodgers do their usual dance. In first place for much of the season, they are hanging on by 2.5 games tonight as they prepare for a three-day series with their nemesis (nemeses?), the Giants.

And, a word about Time Warner cable...they have diabolically set the bar too high for any of the other providers to contract and offer the new Dodger network to their subscribers. So, Dodgers games are only available to Time Warner subscribers, which is a small percentage of SoCal households. At the beginning of the season, it was reported that Vin Scully could not watch the away games at home when he was not traveling with the team. I watch the games through MLBTV streaming them to my TV through Google Chromecast. It works some of the time. Other times it is akin to using orange juice cans and string to replicate the telephone.

So, no surprise, being at the stadium is still the best way to watch the game. Not to mention the win. And Kershaw, who is the best pitcher on the planet. And the nachos. And the Stella beer. And sitting next to my BFF who knows both how to keep score and the answers to all of my baseball questions. All in all, it was a beautiful night at the ballpark. Go Dodgers...And thank you for reading my blog.

The Confession

Los Angeles, California

Ok, here it is. I am fascinated, FASCINATED by Tim Lincecum. I recently watched him pitch in relief for the Giants in game four of the NLCS playoffs. When he pitches, I cannot take my eyes off of him. It's crazy. Something about the mechanics of his pitching, the expression on his face, just rivets me to the screen -- even when he's doing badly (his doing badly against the Dodgers should be enjoyment enough, but still I can't look at anything else going on besides his pitching). I was profoundly disappointed that he wasn't pitching when we attended the game at AT&T Park last month, though I did see him pitch (badly) at Dodger Stadium once this year. What is it about baseball and baseball players that generates this much interest in me?

My salsero friend, Joel, tells me that baseball is boring, and that the Dodgers start out every season by doing well and then they finish by losing. He taunts me about my team. And, I have to admit that, lately, this is true. And this year in a BMW (big major way). They got all of our hopes way up and then took a quarter-of-a-billion dollar freefall at the end of the season. It was pathetic. Still.

Lydia invited me to the game, on October 2nd, which was when they lost the wild card race. It was an evening I will always remember. My friend, Christopher, was also there and through his connections to an event at Dodger Stadium, we got to get onto the field before the game. A novel and heady experience for us both. I took a few photos, then froze when I saw the dugout start to fill. Andre Ethier, who for many seasons we have called TCO for the cute one (seriously, even Billy has occasionally called him that in the spirit of not beating us but joining us) started out to the field. Lydia froze not. She whipped her phone around and snapped this:

which got me unbelievably excited. So that when I saw Kemp sitting in the dugout I demanded that she take his picture, take his picture! She snapped again, then snapped at me Why don't you take it? But she is better at this than me. We work well this way with she as cameraperson, and me as the director. And I will prove it:

We were, of course, disappointed that the Dodgers didn't battle back that night, but it wasn't meant to be. And even if the Dodgers had won, they wouldn't have captured the wild card. It's a magic number thing, and don't expect me to explain it. The St. Louis Cardinals went on to win the following night, and that would have knocked us out regardless. That is baseball. You can be winning through the entire game up until the last inning; even down to the last pitch and the last out, and you can still lose. That happened to the Washington Nationals this past Friday night, and it was heartbreaking -- even though I didn't have a dog in that fight. It is so hard to see those players' faces after a stunning loss like that. Shell-shocked.

Baseball has been very, very good to me this year, even though the Dodgers took that slide. It riveted my attention away from my problems. For the first time in my life, I even paid attention to stats, checking them each night before I went to bed. It was fun, and I will miss it, though I'm happy to have it to look forward to next spring.

Last year, Lyd and I went to one of the first games of the season. When she first stepped into Dodger Stadium, she took a deep breath and said to me I'm here. It was said in a tone that conveyed that she was back home. I know that feeling. I used to feel it when we arrived in Kona. I feel it when I see the first cypress trees as I am coming in to Monterey County. And I expect I will feel it when I first set foot in Dodger Stadium next season. So, on the second to the last day of the regular season, we bid farewell to Dodger Stadium until next year. And, by the way Giants --  just wait until next year . . .

Thank you for reading my blog. Go Dodgers (in 2013)!