Ann Carol Goldberg

Chapter 1; 1/07/2019

Winter got your goat? Feeling low and logy? Constant Pain interfering with your work and play? I, for one feel down and out in dark skies, cold weather, (yes, cold even in SoCal)

My husband is a gem helping me through hard times; broken arm, hospital visit for dehydration, low pulse rate and low sodium. My decades long diet of no salt or sugar added, love of the vegetarian diet, drinking lots of water and my small stomach capacity has caught up with me. I practise the humor strategy laughing and smiling at all of this. It helps and I pursue my daily routines as best as I can with the patient aid of my beloved spouse.  I also find that being with friends and groups of people to be a great remedy; and no fee, no hassle, this med is free and easily procured. 

So, if the winter doldrums have set in for you, try a bit of this medicine. Just gather a little strength and seek out a friend, a gang, a hug and keep those lips in an upward position keep a sense of humor. You will gather  warmth and solace and hear others tell of their travails that will seem more daunting and difficult than your own.  Soak in a tub, watch a comedy, listen to music, podcasts, take a class, do a jig if able, do a good deed to help a friend, make a donation. I wish you well.

Chapter 2;  1/20/2019  Time heals all. After doctoring, some hard work on my and Paul’s part, and practising patience I am seeing an upward turn and some progress. The prolonged cold spell has dissipated, the golden sun has returned. (remember this is SoCal weather.) I empathize greatly with you all residing in the vast areas of climate change, regions of heavy storms and their formidable repercussions. I only hope we  as a nation can return to saving this planet from the devastation that younger generations may  face in years to come.

My spirits are high, I see my return to my energizer bunny lifestyle on the near horizon and my gratitude is at a high 10. One lesson learned earlier in life: the body does its best to heal the wounds, it just takes more time than we want to give it to meet our expectations. Again I wish you all well. 

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It’s been 9 days since I met up with few rolling stones that thrust me down a slippery slope and a fall that broke the Radius bone in my left forearm. (Lucky me, it wasn’t my dominant right arm). Off we went to Urgent care where I acquired a temporary splint and an appointment with an Orthopedic Surgeon. I now sport a huge splint, heavy and over the elbow to the wrist. Many of you have been through such travails, I know.  (Please visit my archived blog entry-The Trouble with Dribbles, dated 5/10/2018 my imaginary floor and ground infested critters that most notably cause toddlers to endlessly trip and fall in tears and pain for seemingly no reason;  folks of any age succumb to their trickery like the rolling stones that  I blamed for my fall). In addition not one of my shirts or sweaters fit over the giant splint. My wonderful, wise husband Paul to the rescue; A new fashion statement am I, wearing his shirts and a sweater swimmingly big, but covering me up. A dear friend Ellen has loaned me a glorious and warm to the calf length poncho and baby its cold outside for SoCal in the desert. 

Men’s shirts of course button “backwards” causing me grief, so button he does, puts in my pierced earrings, cuts, chops dices food– he likes to cook, opens jars, cans, and hardly complains with every honey can you’s. I am trying not to complain as well. When I think of individuals suffering from much worse agony than I can imagine, I dare not complain; constant images of people of all ages and the trauma of war, disease, multiple injuries, refugees suffering danger, cold, hunger, resistance, governmental breakdown, dictatorship, egoism, greed, split families, rape, beatings, poverty, on and on, I am continually appalled at the growing deterioration of the human race.  Loving and caring individuals, acts of random kindness, offers of refuge give some hope. It boils down to the wealth gained in maintaining a sense of humor, a great “drug” to carry on. So if you see me in my hubbies clothes, please laugh and giggle and give me your warm hugs. I will hug and giggle back and share moments of hope for a return to the humane and loving beings I believe we are meant to be. 

o 

***buttons on this shirt are backwards. oh yes i am wearing my wonderful jewel of a husbands shirts and sweaters. why you ask? 10 days ago i met some rolling stones and managed to break y left arm (be

tter than the right arm) ouch. the splint holding all together is THICK and heavy. Not 1 stitch of my clothing tops will go over this bulky mass. 

hardships. finger cracks +trip to the Temecula Valley Hospital, a 10 star facility and a blessing to the residents in this region. We know from too many of our visits there to  ER and other appointments. 

immigrants suffer, 

That morning the tide was at its lowest in recorded history. My dear friend was showing me around her lovely summer hometown of Olympia and the adjacent port town of Hoodsport. 

 How surprised she was to see that the water level had receded well beyond the docks. It was a far reach below the dock to the strangely exposed sand and the descent down the ladders.  Vast areas of sand were exposed for first time in ages. The newly exposed sand was teeming with crabs, shrimp, clams, debris and litter. Perhaps this phenomenon is related to the feared climate change and global warming affecting this planet’s survival. How many recent and alarming occurrences there have been of record setting disasters striking around the world and here were signs of that phenomenon in Coastal Oregon in a small town with a sizable recreational port.    

High and low tides, of course cause many problems and can reek havoc on an area. Navigation is difficult, coastal towns loose access to their port facilities. If the low tide lasts for a period of time, diseased and dead sea life may wash up on shore exposing residents to dangerous illness. There have been numerous reports of extreme tide levels in recent years. This is just another dire warning by mother nature of looming climate change and global warming, a factor that has been refuted over and over  in contrast to the scientifically backed warnings that our time is shortened on this planet as life as we know it now. What is the difference causing high and low tides?

“High and low tide are caused by the gravitational forces between the earth and the moon. There are TWO high tides a day. The reason is, the part of the earth both AWAY from the moon, and CLOSE to the moon BOTH get high tides. The waters on the opposite side of the moon, since they are attracted less strongly than average, tend to ‘lag behind’ the rigid earth, and bulge AWAY from the moon, which in this case, is also AWAY from the earth, again, causing a high tide. LOW TIDES occurs at about right angles to the moon, where the force on the waters “”match the average pull of the moon on the earth closely.”

Source: https://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20060802012507AAmnT0M

“The lowest known low tide in the recorded history of the Delaware River
estuary occurred on December 31, 1962. The primary cause for this low tide was
the strong, persistent wind from the northwest which resulted from a stationary
low-pressure area over Maine and the Maritime Provinces and a high-pressure
area over the Great Lakes. The direction of the wind, blowing downstream on
the Delaware Bay forced huge volumes of water out of the Delaware Bay and,
at the same time, lowered the ocean tide levels offshore along the coast of the
Atlantic Ocean; these effects combined to produce the lowest known low tide
in the Delaware estuary. The magnitude of this tide was particularly significant.
At the Chestnut Street pier, Philadelphia, Pa., where records have been
collected since 1899, the low tide of December 31, 1962 was 1.7 feet lower than the
previous minimum low tide.”

Source: https://pubs.usgs.gov/wsp/1586e/report.pdf

Such disasters continue. Perhaps the low tide in Hoodsport was an aberration (the normal flows were reached a few days after) but I view this as a strong warning of Mother Nature out of our control. How do we work together to prolong the life of Mother Earth? 

On this the first of 7 days on our own in Barcelona. We grabbed our pre purchased art museum passes and walked 20 minutes (up a mountain) to the Fundacio JUAN MIRO. 

We easily redeemed the ticket and spent 2 glorious swiftly passing hours touring the fabulous MIRO collection from early to late works.  Being an habitual people watcher and shutter snapper I encountered this class of 7-8 year olds bunched on the floor with teacher.

Mostly they were well behaved and somewhat entranced participating in the hands on game with the teacher, but there was some talking among the girls and 2 boys were pulled out being disciplined for behaviour faults. Boys will always be boys. Lots of rain as predicted. We caught a light lunch at the Fundacio then cabbed to the Museu Picasso, also the art tour ticket (6 galleries). They did not accept the voucher as did the Miro. A comedy of errors, we  chased for 90 minutes getting to the right place to get it printed but their system did not accept our status. We were directed to the nearby Costa coffee shop–buy an espresso (1.5 eu) and get wifi access. Hold on, that was not so easy.  A lovely barista helped us and worked magic. Back in the drizzle to the Picasso.

It worked and we were accompianied upstairs via elevator by a guide. The exhibit is exquisite; the early work to about 1960, we “grew up” with this work. What a wonderful gallery the building! The  exhibit! including the full collection of Picasso’s multi image work LA MENINAS 1957 incorporating Picasso’s take on the fabulous Velazquez image in El Prado in Madrid.

What struck me along the long tedious way in the of high tourist oppulecent areas are the inevitable poor folks agonizing to survive. They sleep on the sidewalks under cover and in full view. Not unusual anywhere, but I saw at least half a dozen of these folks sleeping or reading or talking to others like them on fairly thick mattresses with blankets for a cover. They appeared content, were not begging and perhapa a step ahead of the expected downtrodden among the oppulent. Just a thought to bring us down to earth. 

Join me into another of my sharing of books from my list and a short plunge into the many layers of history. With upcoming travel on my mind, I conjured up memories of some of the hotels in which I have stayed. Many of them have long histories as well as shared events with great impact on their longevity. I found a book reviewed by Celia Alexander that echoed and provided details backing up my thoughts about my experiences and adventures. The book is entitled Memorializing The Grand Hotels of Egypt written by Andrew Humphrey, a highly revered long time travel writer based in the UK.

The historical perspective he presents in Egypt is reiterated in grand structures around the world. Some hotels date back centuries, others are more recent, the 1800’s or early 1900’s. All share great longevity, sharing the survival of disaster:  devastating fires, damage in war zones, floods and other natural disasters, cumbling infrastructures, abandonment and so on. Many have survived and been revitalized, whether in their original buildings or more modern versions depends on their fate. I have enjoyed stays in many oldies throughout my many travels often preferring these gems to the glass and metal versions in modernity. I am a lover of contemporary design but easily succumb to the glory of the old and loved grand hotels and inns. 

I refrain from a long listing here as many of us have enjoyed these hotels and perhaps pondered as well about what life was like for travelers in days before air and modern travel modes including web access to sites that make planning a charm. We have the ability to arrive in a few hours or a day or 2 at our destination. In the book, Andrew Humphrey’s Egyptian focus discusses early travelers to Cairo’s grand hotels as “British colonial administrators and their wives on their way to India. Sailing around the southern tip of the African continent took months, but the “overland route” — sailing to Alexandria then going up the Nile to Cairo and crossing the desert to Suez — took considerably less time.” They endured days and weeks of travel by ship, preceded by domestic travel modes of the day, stagecoach, or wagon in harsh weather or by mule train, horse back, caravans, rough roads, attacks and robbery or broken axles and accidents. They were soon followed by wealthy merchants setting off in the fall to seek warmer weather and adventure with their families from November to spring, and then enduring the long way home. Grand hotels were their destination, packing many trunks and often household goods and belongings they could not do without. The hotels flourished and the industry grew. The beginning of travel packages and special deals was born and competition swelled. To keep this short and hopefully sweet I suggest your checking the review found at www.egyptindependent.com. 

I foundly remember grand hotels such as the King David in Jerusalem, others in Kiev, Moscow, Italy, France, Bukara ( former home of a wealthy merchant and very memorable, in the Baltics, Adriatic, China and a hotel deep in the Mexican Copper Canyon where images of a family of  travelers from Washington DC arrived on mule back with a household full of dishware, furniture in pieces, and a grand piano carried up and down mountain passes by a bevy of servants. They stayed in an old hotel until their residence was move-in ready and the father set out hoping to make a fortune by mining silver.

Please share your stories. I welcome feedback and respond with glee

Ann Carol Goldberg

Every year, during the Jewish high holidays brings the time of joy for the new year, the time of deep introspection into each person’s soul, reflection upon our spiritual health during the year just past and hours in synagogue praying, reading, learning, discovering or re discovering ideas so familiar but taking on a different form. It was actually during the interim Shabbat evening service that an alternative interpretation of the wording of prophet Isaiah’s (Isaiah 11.9, 2-4) all too familiar writing, Lo Yisa Goi caught my attention. 

It read as follows;

DON’T STOP afer beating words into ploughshares,

don’t stop! Go on beating and make musical instruments out of them.

Whoever wants to make war again will have to turn them into ploughshares first. 

Source Citations: these words identify Yehuda Amichai as the author.

In light of the current atmosphere devoted to closing down our borders, denying immigration to this formerly welcoming country,built on the sweat of peoples from every corner of the earth, this rephrasing brought to mind the the many times Amichai’s words came to fruition. The efforts in rescue and re-location of so many desparate people, the failures to meet everyone’s needs and the many tributes in the form of musical events, concerts, compositions and heart renduring testimonials formed a picture in my mind of images of weapons and instruments (ploughshares) in a surrealistic wavering from one form to the other in a constant and dizzying pace. When will the musical forms supercede the caches of weapons, hatred and suffering and

Nation shall not take up sword against nation:

they shall never again know war.

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Bragging is usually a form of irritation but in this case it is a form of pride. The Garth Fagan Dance Company was born in my hometown of Rochester, NY, a town reknowned for its rich cultural life for decades. In the year 1970, we attended a dance concert, billed as THE BOTTOM OF THE BUCKET BUT; it was their premier debut, conceived by the brilliant dancer/choreographer Garth Fagan. The original troup of dancers were not picked from strenuous, highly competitive auditions, Garth sought out young and diverse folks he encountered in daily life and when he discovered a soul that displayed Soul, movement and enthusiasm big enough to enter the troup, he tapped them on the shoulder and invited them for consideration for his new troup. What a genius, he picked many stars that still glow today. 

We are in the midst of a whirlwind visit to Rochester, trying to catch up with friends, events and life in our hometown. What a visit it is, and during Fringe Festival (a brilliant and highly successful fest) celebrated in many cities in this hemishphere and perhaps beyond. We grabbed tickets to a Garth Fagan scheduled festival event. The Performances featured work of the students of all ages as well as works from the years of the troups existance. Garth is full of surprises and unknowingly to the audience we were treated to a performance of the current work in progress; Prime dec 2017. Work in progress? It seemed polished and wonderful and will be featured during the troup’s season performances at Nazareth College in December. They travel around the world, Garth’s fame includes his On Broadway choreography in the production of Lion King, now continued in traveling musical productions. I just had to brag. We have supported this grand company every year since that eventful night at the Highland Park Bowl. For our western friends, they will perform in LA in Oct 2019, location and dates to be announced. If you are in Rochester attend (at Nazareth college in Dec.) or LA or NYC and beyond. Check the web site below for scheduals and attend performances. You will be blown away by such GREAT dancers as Steve Humphrey (still performing to a T in his mid 60’s and is amazing), Norwood Pennewell and Natalie Rogers, all Bessie Award Winners-the coveted dance award and so many others in the troup. Some have retired and are teaching and serving in other management roles.  PLEASE visit their web site: www.garthfagandance.org. Chances are guaranteed high that Garth will be very present at each and every performance and that you will be able to meet Garth and the dancers in person. ENJOY  

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Too many books, too many concerts, too many films, too many performances, too many art exhbits, too many choices in life. Daunting but beautiful additions to us fortunate souls that can explore the arts. I am an habitual list maker, probably started in the womb! Lists include books I have read and I pick from those books to share in too infrequent blog posts. 

We depart shortly for a tour of Spain and Portugal trying to wade through a plethora of readings, films, and more in preparation. A book of note; The Time of the Doves by Merce Rodoreda born in Barcelona in 1909 and died in April 13, 1983, Girona, Spain. Copyright in 1980 with the first paperback edition in 1986 and now updated by arrangement with Taplinger Publishing co.,Inc. (NYC) How fateful that I walked into our wonderful Rochester Public Librarie’s historic downtown facility and there on the we recommend rack sat the paperback edition newly re published by Graywolf Press (Minneapolis, Minn). 

I read it with astonishment with amazement, with sadness and tears and great respect for this innovative author. The story is told in first person, in a surreal, fetching and unique voice by this author. The story covers the Spanish Civil War years just prior to and during ww2. It confronts the soul, the tale of a survivor, conveying the convulsive era of the time, the depths of relationships, loss, motherhood, tragedy, comedy, bewilderment for the reader as well as of the protagonist. It is visual and will not go out of your mind as you select the next book(s) written by Merce Rodoreda. It was made into a film which I will seek and hopefully view. Prepare yourself for a wild and tremendously large read. 

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I try not to express political angst in my blogs but the latest Tweet from the so called president feels like a deep wound. He is famously the “all about me”persecuted soul. In a response that was meant to discuss the current hurricane Florence accousting the Southeast, which he ignored, instead to point out how his response to the Puerto Rican tragic hurricane was not a disaster, that 8-10 people died, and the tally of 3000 known dead was fabricated by us Democrats is a travesty. Let us demand that he be sent to Puerto Rico to spend a week with no potable water, no electricity, no connectivity, sparse food, disease, loss of homes, jobs and see if there is a spark of humanity is this creatures soul.