And deleted the whole post by accident or not. Here’s a tribute to Dan Fogelberg. He doesn’t know this but I had him one Constant Comment, Cointreau, pot filled year. Dan Fogelberg had a voice that could sooth a weary soul and a way of playing that was sheer beauty. Guitar and piano mostly, and I think some other instruments. He died on 12/16–forgot to put that in as i’m truly crazed from paint fumes, floor fumes and construction dust.
I am the least crazy for comments blogger alive. if your blog is selling something, written in “English isn’t my fourth language but I will tell bloggers how to blog,” your comments will be deleted. It’s week eight of my apartment renovation and I had some friends, big in contracting but don’t live here, confirm some mistakes. I have to be super nice in real life. In my blog….
I haven’t been great at commenting or reading new blogs or new to me this year. I could say it’s because of the turmoil in my life and that’s true but I’m moving as I want to seriously write. New York is too pricey and has too many distractions. Honestly, and I don’t mean this in a bad way so does blogging. Maybe when I move I will find the time for everything.
I probably began listening to him as I thought he was beautiful but I stayed for the music. I did begin to find him boring, earnest–uh, I can relate. There were times I couldn’t stand to listen to him and wondered why I ever did. I went to punk clubs when I listened to him the most. I guess he was the perfect antecedent. I was also very into Noel Coward and Cole Porter. Today’s been the first time in years I have listened to him. Yes he was “soft” rock but he wasn’t Hall & Oates, two people I could never work up any nostalgia for. (See the advert for their concert or one of them at The Beacon everyday, and wonder “why, why would anybody pay? Yet I know people who would…They’re not friends of mine.)
I don’t associate him with any particular male in my life. He was somebody to listen to between the relationships. I just spent several tears of joy and sorrow hours listening and watching his vids. I put in two but really couldn’t decide. Here’s the page.+
I never put in tribute vids but this fits. “Old Tennessee” is one of my favorite songs. His voice was never purer.
auld lang syne, Dan. This is a Dan Fogelberg type of New Years Eve song. It fits my leaving New York mindframe.
I wish you all hope, happiness, good times, prosperity and most of all health in 2008.
I hope the Democratic party stops being a party of wimps and gets its act together for I know some very jaded teenagers who have stopped believing in anything. To not believe in a great future, I can’t imagine that. I was one hell of a melodramatic teenager but in my heart I believed in this country. In their hearts they don’t and ain’t nothing I can say can change that. I feel the same fears but am too old not to believe in a better tomorrow
Wow. I haven’t put my apartment on the market yet and am half suffering from seller’s remorse. At Nancy’s Wine shop, I told the owner, I assume Nancy, that I was leaving. She didn’t leave, when her company moved, as she’s single, childless and doesn’t drive. Duh. Can I make this work? And I went to the fair at Intermediate School and bought rather famous jams made from honeycombs in the Bronx for friends who will be in tomorrow. I didn’t go into look for a secondhand coat or talk to Sarita who makes incredible glasses as I have too much to do. I don’t even like fairs, but I love this one. It’s at West 77th and Columbus and open every Sunday
Then outside of Fairway there were members of the Communist Party giving out leaflets. It seemed so The We We Were–one of two Streisand movies I can stand, the other being Prince of Tides. Then I went into Fairway. It was packed. A woman yelled at me for taking up too much room. I looked at her. She was taking up a lot of room–and was standing far away from the aisle which led me and the man behind me to laugh. Never laugh at a yelling woman in Fairway. On the day before New Years Eve Day you try to stand exactly with the aisle. Yes it’s hard, but….
Then I asked a teen age girl if she was on line: “no my mother is.” She was just standing behind her brother who was standing behind their mother. Love how she separated herself from her mother and from the aisle.
This couple must have shopped at midnight or are into the romanticizing New York stage, just love crowds, have never been yelled at frequently or are deaf. I prefer shopping at midnight but they’re usually out of many things.
My apartment isn’t worth half of what The Times says is the median for Manhattan. After putting so much work into it, I want every cent it can get.
My apartment looks better than it has in weeks. It still needs much work and a power cleaning. Note to me: never replace all door knobs after a paint job. Porcelain tubs might be pretty but there’s a reason, a good reason people get fiber glass. I don’t think the job was ever done properly to begin with as it lasted about a month after I moved in and I hadn’t taken a bath. Separate shower stalls are something I can’t give up. Though I have been going picture crazy I can’t put any in as I’m sure that the broker will have pictures in ads. I don’t want to see the pictures or read the ads but I’m sure I will have to. I’m even more sure that I will want to rewrite the ad. Part of me wants the broker to insist I write a blog about the sale. I don’t think that’s been done and am sure that no broker would want to do it for a Manhattan apartment.
I’m selling a Manhattan apartment. Part of me wants to cry.
I don’t make New Years resolutions. Either do something or don’t. If I did make them I wouldn’t write about them. I do thrash things out in my blog. There’s a difference between wishing I could blog “funnier” than resolving to go to the gym every day.
When I had the 21 months of constant dental work, my dentists told me I would learn patience. I didn’t think the lesson would stick. It has. But I finally have a free night and what do I do? Obsess over a stupid blog post and listen to Dan Fogelberg vids. After awhile I do need something harder
I’m going to a Southern style dinner for New Years. So Southern they’re even bringing the smoked turkey. Then we’re coming back here for champagne before going to Central Park for the fireworks, music and mini-marathon.
I plan on getting everybody so drunk, they don’t notice this is a construction zone. Though I could finally do laundry and no longer have to walk around in old clothes I somehow didn’t give away and normally would never wear.