alyarmy

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Isn't It Ironic?

Isn’t It Ironic?

Irony— overused and often trite. Yet, there are times when it stands up and belts you in the face. This afternoon offered one of those moments. As the pundits gushed over the momentary courage of Mitt Romney and his small act of defiance against the oligarchy, I watched the Republican senators rush to acquit Trump, voting their fear rather than their convictions. They had witnessed the past…

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Another Year of the Dead

Another Year of the Dead

That line from Sgt. Pepper kept going through my mind, “It was 30 [I know the lyrics say 20] years ago today….” as I drove the miles down US 29 from College Park to Greensboro. The sky kept painting itself bluer & greyer as showers punctuated the trip. The Dead travel CDs I’d made, echoed the spring storms. As I crossed into the old North State, the rain stopped and I rolled my window down to…

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Of Mothers and Daughters

Of Mothers and Daughters

This winter break, I’ve had the delight of watching my girls experience all sorts of “grown-up” adventures. How cool is that? Y’all know I talk about my Daddy a lot because he was a man who inspired curiosity and adventure – today though, as I see my girls becoming strong, independent women – I need to talk about my mom. Raising my girls has allowed me a bit of insight into the crazy,…

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Birthday blog 2018

Ain’t it just a little scary sometimes * To find the lies that you know to be true * I’ll find you smiling about *  Things You Don’t Have to Do.  Driving on the turnpike this past week, I realized I’d found the hook for my birthday essay.

When I’m teaching younger audiences, I often reference a “wayback”, by acknowledging that I’m really old — and may or may not have played with dinosaurs in my…

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Chapter 1: Baby songs “Live, love laugh and be happy….” I would put the baby on the bed, changing her diaper and bicycling her little legs — as I sang about those dementedly happy birds chirruping through the day. In turn, each girl gurgled and giggled at their silly mama beginning a brand new adventure of a day.

Music playing throughout the day was a family tradition, there wasn’t a room in Daddy’s house without a radio, a stereo, or a guitar. Now, as I didn’t have 35 musical appliances, I just became creative. As we sat on the porch, swinging lazily in the afternoon — Gatsby the mischievous feline playing at my feet — I just reversed the baby monitor. I had the receiver next to the stereo and the speaker entertained us with an eclectic mix of songs, rhythms and chants. As they grew, they developed definite opinions — in the baby years it was mostly mama’s choice. Bath time usually had “Edelweiss,” and that little white duck awfully busy with what he oughta… and silky curls nestled into my neck as I carried them to bed, we looked at the stars and I sang, “goodnight, my someone, goodnight my love…”

Chapter 2: Toddler tunes Giving my loves every advantage — I wanted them to fall asleep to amazing music that would make their sweet baby dreams grow smarter by the night…. Hey, it was the theory. I love way too much music for it just to be Mozart, so I alternated classical and jazz. It wasn’t long before my older said she really would prefer the classical — the more melodic the better → Pachelbel, Liszt, Schubert, and Chopin. My baby fell in love early and deeply with Charlie Parker and John Coltrane, with a smattering of Miles thrown into the mix. That thing, you know, that people say when you have 2 kids of the same gender — “oh, how nice you already have experience”. Eh, not so much. My girls grew up smart, and fierce and funny, and completely their own persons. Some things were shared — from a love of zydeco, to Disney, to the beloved monsters of Sesame Street and the often played Prince of Egypt soundtrack — having them ask me for a song as we drove from activity to errand to home was always and ever a joy. True confession, as they got older and took over the clicky in the car, I was sometimes nonplussed as they skimmed past songs I loved — to find “their” songs. Funny, the older they get, the more entertaining it becomes for me to see what songs they choose.

Chapter 3: Duets I was never one of those moms to dress their kids in matching outfits — à la the Von Trapps. Yet, every now and then they found something that sparked their creativity. Yes, they did do “Sisters” once or twice, mostly because they did it better than Tommy & I. I think one of the first that they had spot on, down to the inflections was “Loathing” from Wicked. It was funny, and just perfect to watch. Next came the remarkable “Together Again” from Young Frankenstein: the Musical — so perfect that Igor (and his hump, what hump?) made a Halloween appearance that year. Probably the silliest, and weirdest came from the Feeling’s video for “I love it when you call”. They had every gesture, coordinated and mimicked that it was sometimes hard to drive the car because noticing them in the backseat made me giggle helplessly. And then there were the times the 3 of us (me mostly trying not to sing too loud and too offkey) would belt out Bon Jovi, Billy Joel, Kasey Chambers, or Kelly Clarkson. I won’t even mention the times, they tried to show me how to “pop”, or otherwise be hip…

Chapter 4: Solos Of course, as I said they are not the same — and over the years, watching what they like, dislike and kind of obsess over has been like a movie with the greatest soundtrack ever. There was one summer where “Jai Ho” was played so often, I found myself dreaming to its rhythm. Marina is a bittersweet listen for me, as she reaches in and stirs up all sorts of memories. Both of them could ID Bruce Hornsby and Mary Chapin Carpenter pretty much from the womb — but over the years some of my “artists” have fallen into the scrap heap of the girls’ soundtracks. For one — she’s happy to never ever listen to Sting or Tom Petty (gasp!) — pretty much the only song she’ll endure is the Moulin Rouge version of “Roxanne”, which is cool, but…. The other saves her disdain for John Mellencamp and James Taylor — not quite the bodyblow of the first, but yikes! That’s ok — I was frightened that my parents owned Pat Boone albums, the thought still  makes me cringe a bit — and if no one ever plays Michael Bolton around me, I’d be perfectly content.

Chapter 5: and now…. I’m incredibly lucky — the notes that bond us into the melody we’ve become get shared wherever we are. If any of us hears music, or finds a soundtrack we’ll tell the others. Not always will it resonate with the others — but enough so we can feel each other’s tempo.

Watching them become women has been the greatest symphony I’ve ever experienced (in full technicolor and surround sound). Sending them both into a world fraught with discordance this fall terrifies me. I keep thinking there are songs, and stories, and adventures waiting for us to do. Time is worse than a relentless metronome, it just keeps ticking the moments past. All I can hope is that somewhere, among the sunrises and sunsets, the soundtracks and the syncopation — maybe I’ve taught them some notes, some chords that they can weave into their own melodies. Underneath the free, fierce, and glorious songs they create, I hope they will always feel my love, like a heartbeat, a rhythm to fall back on when their own songs are muted and to fly above when life crescendos.

Slipping through my fingers all the time I try to capture every minute The feeling in it … Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture And save it from the funny tricks of time Slipping through my fingers Slipping through my fingers all the time

Take care, Aly

Empty Nest Blues in waltz time Chapter 1: Baby songs “Live, love laugh and be happy….” I would put the baby on the bed, changing her diaper and bicycling her little legs -- as I sang about those dementedly happy birds chirruping through the day.

[alyarmy]

Of Prairies & Presidents

Of Prairies & Presidents

“But Pa” Laura began, “It’s ok Half-Pint. Your ma and me, and Mr. Edwards we are all racist as f**k, and we believe this land that stretches from ocean to ocean has just been waiting here for us white people.”

No, that is not some secret chapter from “Little House, the privilege of the pioneers”. It’s just how it was. Post-Civil-War America was no less bigoted, stuffed full of privilege, and…

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Daddy Rules

“My Daddy said,” anyone who knows  me has heard me start that sentence around 82 billion times. I usually say something about the man he was during this celebration of fathers. He was neither perfect, nor “afterschool special bad”. He was just a man trying to parent in the best way he knew — making mistakes and triumphs along the way.

In the vein of “everything I know — I learned from Dr. Seuss,…

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Me Too

I drive a lot — it appeals to the wild child, the “king of the road” girl who navigated for random Sunday afternoon drives as a kid. Full confession, if I won the lottery, I’d probably get a driver for the routine drives and a way sexier car. That aside, I keep my car maintained, gassed up and Triple A’d for the road. I’ve had brothers, and boys tell me since I could drive, to be safe, let them…

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Set Break

Someone has their window down. I hear a ripple of melody as I pull to the stoplight. I smile, “US Blues” brings me to the bleachers at Rich Stadium on a drizzly 4th of July…. Thanks, RAV4 driver-person — you just made my commute.

Given the relentless barrage of news and growing struggle for rights thought already won — every now and then, music has to reach up through the starved mindscape and…

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Reading & Writing: Freedom

Reading & Writing: Freedom

Recoiling from the screen as an immensely large Smurf comes at you with a broadsword screaming, “FREEDOM”! Quickly rubbing your eyes as you awaken and realize it’s just an angry Mel Gibson doing his “mad as hell” thing. Clicking the TV back to March Madness (no Duke, but it’s still basketball — and the ACC lives), the echo of his scream still ripples across the room in smoky undulations. Where do…

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Reading & Writing: lovers

Reading & Writing: lovers

I should tell you that I have a lover, or to be precise I have seven. As you pick up your jaw, let me explain. As an aside, it truly shouldn’t be shocking in the 21st century — my Dad had six girlfriends at one point, and everyone chuckled when he noted that “even the Lord rested on the seventh day” Nevertheless, let me tell you my story.

When I was a teen, I read. I read anything, everything  …

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Reading & Writing: in praise of bad girls.

Reading & Writing: in praise of bad girls.

  With absolutely no hyperbole, I would argue that showers, hot, steamy, and full of fragrant bodywash, rank among the greatest inventions of humankind. Of course, given the political season we’ve endured – one needs to shower frequently as the mud and general sliminess still pollute the atmosphere.

One of the grimiest and most incendiary comments came during the third presidential debate. The…

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Reading & Writing: truth or dare

Reading & Writing: truth or dare

While planning summer reading this year, I remembered an old ice breaking game that I’ve used with great success. Called “3 truths and a lie”, it’s a standard of awkward party situations. In a group where the participants really don’t know each other, it works delightfully– both the truths and the lie reveal a bit of the person to the room (in an age of LOL & emojis — the girls say it’s 2 truths…

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Reading & Writing: graduation & mothers

Reading & Writing: graduation & mothers

I started this as a mother’s day piece — “5 things I’ve learned as a mom”, and I think it’s à propos for this week as well. The girls thought I would need a vat of tissues to staunch my emotions as my oldest walked across the stage, graduating from her childhood into a future she has planned and defined. My heart cheers her dreams as my head fears the bumps and bruises that mark reality. Of…

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Reading & Writing: Dream Houses

Reading & Writing: Dream Houses

Southern Livingmagazine has a dream house in every issue — photos of rooms splashed with color and furniture that beckons use, effortlessly livable yet exquisite. Best of all they have a baby blueprint laying out how everything fits together, room dimensions telling me if the kitchen was dreamy or perhaps there was a room to fashion into a library both capacious & cozy. I love the ones with a…

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Saturday morning song -- poetic living

Saturday morning song — poetic living

Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,

The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;

And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,

But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.

My daughters know that it’s April when I retell the saga of mighty Casey’s disastrous game…. so do pretty much all the kids I’ve ever had the…

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Reading & Writing: planes, trains, automobiles....

Reading & Writing: planes, trains, automobiles….

Standing in line at the slowest Starbucks ever (in her defense it was her first day as manager & she was alone – we had time to chat). The line was long, and being me, I started talking to folks. There was a couple driving to Pittsburgh for their honeymoon. Not one of those places I think about romantically – but they’d met there four years earlier. Two truckers told me about their circuitous…