Life in Indy has been pretty good this Spring.
For Easter I went home to Michigan to see my family. We celebrated my birthday the first night. We had cake, candles, and ice cream, and everyone got me silly gifts. I love celebrating birthdays, especially my own! When I turned 40, my friends had a party for me at the Music Mill, where some of them were in the band that night. I got a special invitation to sing with them a couple of times. I was afraid 40 might be difficult for me, but I decided to celebrate for forty nights. Typically, I would go to a music event, reading, play, or film. I remember this being one of the most positive experiences of my life, and that I began to notice beauty in a new way, and how it brought me deep joy. That joy was important because it was not dependent on anyone but me.
For awhile, my friends were the most important people in my life. It was another example of me being a late bloomer, going through the motions of someone in her twenties rather than late thirties/early forties. A few years ago, I recalibrated, and realized that even though we are very different, my family members are the people who know and love me most. When I'm confused or hurt, I turn to them. When I'm happy or successful, I turn to them. I finally realized for the touchstone that they are.
My nieces and nephews have been the biggest part of that realization. Being surrounded by their love and attention is a joy like no other. I love the way they excitedly hand me gifts--not necessarily because I want presents, but because I know that they were vested in somehow choosing or creating the gift, and they can't wait to share it with me. This is a really big love that I never dreamed of having or wanting, but now it's the best part of my life. I love how silly and enthusiastic they are, and how a simple game of Pictionary can bring them to their most focused, competitive, and funny. I love how in-the-moment they are when we do simple things like this.
I took them out Saturday. First we went to the movies, "Muppets: Most Wanted." I took them to see the last Muppet movie, and I was so pleased with how much they loved it. Then we went to see my grandma, then we played on the beach, then we picked up pizzas and took them to my folks' house. After that we colored Easter eggs outside. It was a really fun day! The next day was Easter, and I helped my mom make dinner. Later we hid the eggs, and I really suck at it because I lost many of the treasures I had hidden.
I drove home from that weekend feeling so much love and gratitude for how my life has turned out. I know that lives don't just turn out--they are often a result of choices. I could say that on days like that I'm happy with the choices I've made.
The next weekend was my birthday, and I celebrated with Larry. Friday we went to the Stutz Artists Open House. Indy was once home of the Stutz Bearcat, which is a racing car. The expansive factory site sits (in tact) on the north edge of downtown covering a few city blocks, and it has been transitioned into This used to be my favorite thing to do in the city, and yes, I was doing it long before it got popular with people who were there to be seen rather than to see art. I haven't been in many years, and Larry has never been. We arrived pretty early and beat the worst of the crowds. We had so much fun. I got a little dressed up, snazzy in a beret and tall boots, and we enjoyed art, music, food, and wine, and running into friends.
The next day we went hiking at Turkey Run State Park. We had gone in the fall and winter and have vowed to go in every season. I packed a really nice picnic and our favorite beer, Anchor Steam, and off we went on the country roads. Everything was blooming and beautiful--pinks and purples and whites and yellows. Once we got to the park, we were affronted by crowds of people who were seemingly there to kill time on the trails while waiting for the Inn to open where they could stuff themselves on chicken and pie. The truth is we got pretty depressed. Kids were dropping candy bar wrappers and soda cans and adults were dropping cigarette butts, littering the beautiful canyons. Why do people like that even go out in nature when they obviously have no respect for it?
It occurred to me that now that I'm working again this will be the norm. So, yes there is some truth in that word, "Funemployment." Ah the freedom of taking off on a Mon or Tue or Wed or Thur and having a place like that basically to yourself, save the random bird watcher or photographer. Still we got some good hiking in, and had a wonderful day. I love Larry's idea of visiting the canyons in all seasons. I think winter is my favorite! We found the quiet spot where we had a winter picnic on a fallen tree a few months prior, and it offered me a chance to reflect on the past few months.
The next day we rode bikes to the IMA and then went to see the movie "Bears" and out to dinner at Seasons 52. We like Seasons 52 because of the desserts; why lie? Ralf joined us for the fun, and he had a great time. "Bears" was an incredible movie. I cried at the end. It was fantastic revisiting Alaska just a hair under a year since our visit. The story had a beautiful narrative that celebrated and championed the female species as the protectors and the leaders. I found it very moving and positive. There were lots of kids in the theater, which means they have an interest in nature. They were quiet during the movie, unlike they are in other kids movies, which are so loud and obnoxious. At the end, they even clapped!
Movies like these are important because they help a younger generation see wildlife as sovereign living beings and their importance in our world. It's been said that "Born Free," released fifty years ago, was a catalyst for environmental protection. It's been too long since we've had movies like this--mostly documentary with a little narrative thrown in to make a story and to draw you in. It really was one of my all-time favorite movies.
The next weekend we had tickets to Dance Kaleidoscope "Picture This at the IMA," with friends Jodee and Willard. This is an annual event in which two paintings on exhibit in the galleries are depicted in dance. The first was this one: Girl at the Piano: Recording Sound by Theordor Roszak (American, 1907-1981), 1935.
The stage was set exactly like the painting, and a narrative was created that showed various people distracting the girl from her endeavors. The dancing, like the painting, was jagged and sharp and shocking, highly charged, and very emotional. The painting seemed decades ahead of its time. It looked like something from the 80s, not the 30s. I loved how the dance made me experience the painting instead of just looking at it.
It featured my favorite dancer, Jillian Godwin.
The second movement was based on "Jimson Weed" by Georgia O'Keeffe (American 1887-1986), 1936. (Incidentally, it was a piece that was originally commissioned by Elizabeth Arden for her home gym, and is one O'Keeffe's least inspired paintings, and I don't see why it gets so much hype.) Like the painting, this dance featured flowing moves and costumes, and somehow resembled the flower. There was really no narrative with this one, so I wasn't as vested. My eyes were delighted, but I was not moved.
After the performance, we attended an after-party in the galleries. I love these parties. For one thing, they offer lots of art--not just to look at, but to make. We somehow wound up in a room full of ipads and did paintings on them. It was actually really fun even though we had to have some kids show us how to use the program.
The next weekend, Jodee rented the Chicken Limo. The Chicken Limo is an only-in-Indy event. It's actually a janky old limousine that looks like a giant chicken, but riding in it is an event and rite of passage. Larry and Jodee drew up a Magical History Tour, in which we visited historical places (mostly historical bars) and breweries in Indy. We started in Indy, headed out to the Swamp, then to Cottage Home, then to Downtown, then to Fountain Square, and back to Irvington. We were going to have dinner at Maxine's Waffles and to keep with the chicken and "Indy originals" theme but we were too buzzed to drive, so we feasted at Jockamo's Pizza instead. Afterwards, we checked out the Irvington Street Festival. Lots of fun!
I spend the next weekend in Michigan to visit my Aunt Gini. This was one of those life-comes-crashing-down moments, and writing about the terminal illness of someone you love deserves its own place, and I'm not ready to find the words yet. We had a really nice visit. I had to choose between going to see family and going to the wedding of a good friend. It was a hard choice but the right one. Gini was feeling strong and was in good spirits, and most of my cousins were there, so it was a good visit.
On Sunday, I took nieces and nephews and my mom to see "Bears." They all loved it, of course. We had a really nice day together.
The next weekend I rented out my house to some Swiss race fans for a pretty penny, and Abby, Primo, and I stayed the weekend with Larry. We went to Ralf & Jim's one night for wine and cheese and the "soft opening" of their veranda. Sunday we went to my friend Jodee's house for a bbq, where, as I always seem to do when I'm at Jodee's house, had to get into a Land Rover to go find some missing dogs. We took Primo, and he barked his fool head off at her horses. We drank this nifty Lucky Buddha beer!
Meanwhile, I hired some landscapers to help me with phase of I of my suburban makeover. Last year I decided I wanted my yard to resemble a prairie to minimize mowing and to introduce more plant species and color, as well as give me a place to create some outdoor art. (I got the idea when we stayed at the famous (well sorta) Hamony Motel in Joshua Tree, which was made famous after an unknown Irish band stayed there while filming rock videos...a few months later this band called U2 took the world by storm, and the motel owners read about them in a newspaper.)
I had a vision for a shabby-chic urban prairie that would fit my personality more than an English or Italianate garden. I will be using as many native plants as possible, and artwork I made myself from upcycled objects. I don't know how to do any of this. I'll be learning as I go, and I'm trying not to be intimidated.
The next weekend I surprised Larry with a wine/cheese/chocolate picnic at Hundred Acre Wood to celebrate four years together. We took Primo and laid out on the bluff above the lake and watched the sun go down and the fireflies come out. Primo was doing great and we ran around the park, which we had all to ourselves. It really is getting to be one of my favorite spots in Indy, and in the evenings it's pretty deserted.
Eric and Michele invited us on a brewery tour the next day. We visited five or six breweries around the city, and although I didn't like a single brew I tasted, we had a great time. Local brewers need to learn what good beer tastes like. It doesn't take like any of the following foods: coffee, oranges, bananas, or blueberries. It should taste robust and slightly bitter and should have a gentle bite. Indiana beer is all way too hoppy, and it doesn't taste like beer. The hops obliterate the tongue so that you can't pick up any subtle flavors. Or they make nasty wheat beers, which taste like bananas. Or they taste like coffee, which would be fine in winter but not in summer. I think they don't actually know how to craft the beer, and they try to hide mistakes with hops. Even though I worked at a craft brewery for years and at one time, I have decided that I prefer not local beer but Anchor Steam (San Francisco) and Samuel Adams (Boston). Can't help it. I just want a good beer, a standard beer with no surprises except the one that goes, "Wow! I forgot how good beer tastes on a hot day!"
Afterwards, Larry wanted to go the Indians game to meet one of his childhood baseball heroes, Al Kalen. I dropped him off and went to park my car in the usual spot but there was a home soccer game and massive crowds were there for that. I finally found a place to park, then walked to Victory Field, cooler in hand, as is the tradition. I waited in an enormous line, got my ticket, and started to file in, when I was asked to open my cooler. They have never asked to do this before. They told me I couldn't take beer in. "Since when?" I asked, pissed, because this is one of the best things about lawn seats at Victory Field! For $10 you can see a (boring ass) game, and enjoy beer and a picnic of your own making. You're still allowed food and drink, just not beer. This is but a test to see what kind of contraption I can invent to get beer in, because the point is, you don't brag that you can bring beer then take away that right without notice. I had to take my cooler all the way back to the car, and on the way, the heel on my sandal broke, and I had to pee something fierce. I finally made it back to my car and had no choice but to pee in the parking lot, which was nerve wracking because ComicCon was going on and people were coming and going in all manner of costumes. Being a hasher, I've learned to pee out in nature or behind bushes, but there was nothing to protect me. Before heading back to the dreaded game, I downed a beer. I tore off the broken heel and literally slumped back to the field.
I finally met up with Larry, and we watched the stupid game. I hate to be so negative, but these games are really stupid. If they would just play baseball and if there was just some jovial organ playing, it would be great. Good traditional ball. No, instead they have some kind of ball diamond DJ who constantly plays sound bites of popular music, most of which is intended to get people to do popular dances in unison. Out of nowhere, he just blasts that sound bite of that annoying song played at wedding receptions "Everybody clap your hands." Some people live for these moments--to be told how to enjoy a game.It's what I call "canned" fun. It's not spontaneous. It's stupid. The worst is the kiss cam, and that it's sponsored by Ray's Garbage Pick up. You see a dumb couple kissing then a picture of a dumpster on the jumbotron.
I have to say that Indians games are about the cheesiest thing you can do in Indy. Sitting in the lawn always made it bearable for said muled-in beer. Yes, I could buy their crappy overpriced beer, but that turns a lame but cheap night into a lame but very expensive night. At least in the lawn I get to watch the kids, which for reasons I don't get, is very interesting to me. I love watching, no studying, the kids, especially the differences between boys and girls.
Nothing has changed. You never see boys at an event that would typically hold the interest of girls, but when it comes to what boys want, everyone must comply. I just don't understand how this archetype is still thriving.
I really hate male sporting events. They are boring and stupid as most of the people who attend are. The worst is when a couple is individually supporting opposite teams, so no matter what happens to either team, the wife finds it necessary to initiate a stupid kiss-even-though-we're bitter-rivals show of affectation. Yuck.
Do you see how I've suddenly gotten a bit sarcastic? That's because I decided to get real. This blog entry was getting boring or is boring. I suppose it is boring to read about what other people do with their time, in which case, just skip it. For me, it helps me remember all the good living I have in my life, even when I have to do something I hate, which is go to male sportsketball!
Now women sportsketball is a different story, and I can't wait to go some Fever games this summer! WNBA. Women know how to play ball as a team. Women play harder and better and for a lot less money and almost no glory. Women athletes are simply superior to male athletes because they have to work harder to get a fraction of what men get. Women truly do it for love of the sport, not for the love of having people love them.
The next day I planted my garden. I'll bet you're yawning now! I've wanted to have a garden for several years but have never had time. I promised myself I would use my off-time from theater to work on things that are important in my personal life, and I've made good on that promise! Planting that garden was hard work and awesome! I have three kinds of basil, cilantro, peppermint, chives, two kinds of hot peppers, sweet peppers, tomatillos, four kinds of tomatoes, zucchini, cucumbers, lettuce, and rhubarb. It's just like the old days, when I used to floor it to get home to tend my garden!
I caught up with my good friend Dottie the next week, and we met a famous-in-Indy old watering hole called Red Key Tavern. It was built in the 50s and not one thing has been updated. Dottie is one of my kindred spirits. I don't see her often and we don't talk in between visits, but we pick up like no time has past. She's one of those friends whom I feel truly enhances my life.
About this time, my estranged brother decided to visit my parents and to see my aunt. He dropped out of the family about four or five years ago. Last year, he started talking to the family again, but for some reason, not me. I was torn about going up to see him. I wouldn't hold a grudge if he reached out to me. I can put things behind me quite easily, but I guess I require that token of intention, even if it's not exactly an apology. He ignored me and dodged me for years, and it was so hurtful. Why he has reconnected with everyone except me is hurtful, but on the other hand I'm not sure I care that much. The truth is, he never liked me and as a kid despised me and made me miserable any time he was around. So anyway, I was on the fence about just biting the bullet and going up to see him. Then it occurred to me that he didn't call or ask about me the whole time he was there. I decided to spend my time in Indy with friends who actually care about me.
Friday we went to the Indiana Ave Jazz and Music Fest in the Ransome Place neighborhood. At one time, this area was the crossroads of the greatest jazz in the country. I like to call it the depot of musicians, because traveling jazz stars would stop in Indy and pick up musicians who had been dropped there from other traveling gigs. It's a wonderful road story, but when the interstate came through, the neighborhood was destroyed, and along with it, the music.
I had just finished the series "Treme," and although there couldn't be a longer shot, I like to think that at one time, this was our Treme. This is the first time they are trying the festival, and even though it wasn't packed, we had a great time. We hung out with the chef at New Orleans On the Avenue who was outside cooking a giant pot of giant crawdads, and she chatted us up most of the night. She's a transplant from Lafayette, LA. We caught a couple of bands, and and impromptu street dance behind the Madame Walker Theater when the festivities ended. Just my kind of dance--unplanned with all sorts of people--young, old, kids, grandmas, white, and black, just dancing together as if we were family at wedding reception.
Saturday we went to major rummage sales in Rocky Ripple and Woodruff Place, two historical neighborhoods in Indy. We got some treasures and had a great time at Katey's house, hanging with Dottie and Jerry and friends.
Last weekend, we went to...are you ready? A fucking Indians game. My company hosts a picnic there every summer, and we always try to go on account of the freebie food and beer and tchotchkes, and so that I can stay visible to the VIPs. It's actually pretty fun, and for some reason I am well liked among the C-levels, most likely on account of my ability to kick back with beer with the fellas. We didn't stay for the game because we had to run to Irvington to catch my favorite indie singer Rachael Sage.
I've seen Rachael seven times at least.
Saturday we ran some errands and I worked in my yard then we took Primo to Holliday Park. It was a beautiful evening in a beautiful setting, and when we came upon a punk carving names into an innocent tree, I scolded him "Come on, man, don't do that," which in hindsight might have been stupid, on the account of the six inch blade he was using. Just idiots. He was wearing really stupid jeans, too, and he was an idiot, much like that idiot George Zimmerman.
Sunday I packed up a picnic and we headed to Shades State Park for some hiking, where we ran into our friends Brian and Deb. We got some good hiking in and some future dreams laid!
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