02 February 2020

Ronstadt, Free Stuff, My Mom, Gym Machines and Jerks

Linda Ronstadt
I know that people have different taste in music and I respect that but I also think that if you don’t like Linda Ronstadt there’s something wrong with you. I also imagine it’s been discouraging for young female singers to hear Rondsadt. How many, upon listening to her sing, have said, “fuck this,  I’m out.” Must be a lot. Her brilliance doesn't need a documentary to be obvious but there is one nonetheless called Linda Ronstadt: The Sound of My Voice which was in theaters last Fall and was aired on CNN recently. It is also available on DVD. What comes across is not only a supreme talent seen from her early years to the present, but a perfectly charming and delightful person. She was a brave performer who sang in many different genres, all successfully. There are interviews, a lot of concert footage and the story of one of the singular performing artists of our time. The best thing I can say about the documentary is that has inspired me to listen to her more often and it has increased my appreciation for her.

Most anytime you walk more than a block or two in a city— and you often needn’t go that far — you’ll see an old computer, or clothes, or books or kitchenware or — well, the list goes on —  by the side of the road. People don’t throw things away or donate them to goodwill anymore, they leave them for others to pick through. One man’s junk is another man’s treasure. Or woman for that matter.
What I find interesting is how often people will leave a sign next to the discarded items that says, “free.” This is really helpful. How often have you noted junk on the sidewalk, seen something that interested you and said, “I’d really like this but I’ve no idea how much it costs,” then looked around for a salesclerk to help you out? It can be damn frustrating. But when there’s a sign telling you that everything is gratis, your worries are over. Thank you people leaving junk on our city streets, for providing this information

Today is the 100th anniversary of the birth of my late mother, Gertrude Marie Hourula (nee Kurki). Her first name, Kerttu, sounds much nicer in Finnish. I’ve written about mom before, particularly in this blog post. The poor woman became a paranoid schizophrenic in adulthood. She went untreated and it ruined the remainder of her life (she lived to be 81) and shattered my father’s (remarkably he recovered and re-married). I have permanent scars from my childhood with her. It was a terrible tragedy for all concerned. In the years since her death the decades long hatred I felt towards her (I was a victim of emotional abuse) has gradually dissipated and against all odds I have forgiven her — realizing that she was a victim too — and I've managed to occasionally think of her fondly, remembering some of the lucid and loving moments she had with me. This change in my attitude toward her has been a good thing for me but in truth the anger has been replaced by depression. Thinking about her as I have today has made me sad and what makes me sad often, as today, triggers my depression. Life is harsh.

Earlier today I was at the gym where I had — as usual — an excellent workout. Except for having to tolerate the idiots who think gym time is really yak on their cell phone time, I love my visits to the gym, which come every other day. However one thing that annoys and amuses besides cell phone users (when did phone conversations become so important?) is a feature of the stair masters and treadmills I use. They all have TV screens on them. Fair enough, some people like looking at a screen when they’re exercising (personally I think it’s a bad thing to do as it breaks the mind and body connection you should have while exercising and it can in no way enhance your workout). I of course do not watch TV while working out and when I come home I do not work out while watching TV. But the strange -- and aggravating -- thing about these screens is that they try to decide for you. The second you get on the TV comes on, you turn it off, then when you’ve entered all the pertinent information  and start to move, the TV comes back on and so you turn it off again and then what happens? It pops right back on as if to say “you don’t seriously want to work out without looking at me, do you?” So you turn it off a third time. If for some reason you have to pause during the workout the TV comes back on when you resume — “surely,” it is saying, “you must want to watch me now.” No, I don’t, I really don’t. I swear I don’t. Who designed these machines to be so persist and why? Irritating.

Speaking of irritating, I have the misfortune of knowing  a person who can best be described as…let me see I want to be careful here, I’m going to go with total jerk. Although complete asshole would do nicely. Mind you I'm acquainted with many, many other people and about 95% of them are either fantastic people, nice people or perfectly tolerable people. This dickhead is none of the above. I’ve never met a person who was so cynical and negative and had such great difficulty conjuring up pleasant things to say about any topic or failed so miserably to observe basic social niceties.  Recently — for a second time — he felt compelled to go to great lengths to convey his disdain for the sport of soccer (as you Yanks call it). First of all, no one asked. Secondly, why? What is the point? He knows full well that I am a huge fan yet feels compelled to deride the game. Again, why? He even quoted a friend of his (he has friends?) who had said, “soccer is sport for people who hate sports.” Mind you, soccer is the most popular sport in the world. Literally billions follow it. But we are dealing with that nasty American combination of ignorance and arrogance combined with dickishness. You may toss in hypocrisy too because my loathsome acquaintance asserts that he roots for the US Men’s National Soccer Team. Of course. The US is full of people who don’t understand the game and even hate it but root on the national team with boisterous chants of U-S-A!

Here’s a tip if you do not like a sport, particularly because you are largely unfamiliar with it and grew up playing and watching other sports, shut the fuck up about it. Accept that while you don’t like it others do and leave them alone about it. Thanks for letting me ventilate on this topic. 

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