Going Natural

 

After years of coloring my hair (which sounds much better than saying dying) I am letting my hair go back to its natural color. At this point I’m not sure what color that will turn out to be but I feel pretty safe in saying it won’t be the light brown color that my hair was when the coloring started. Let me make myself clear, I did not want to start coloring my hair. My husband was the one who wanted me to cover the gray streaks that began appearing ten or fifteen, I can’t remember, years ago. He became involved in the process; he has been my colorist for about all of that time. He did a very good job. I told him once we started coloring my hair, we were stuck doing it. There was no going back.

Well, I was wrong. The time to stop coloring my hair has arrived, or I think it has. Letting the color grow out of your hair is a process. I am living through that process right now. Presently my hair is several shades of color from dark to light. Since my hair is short anyway it shouldn’t take too much longer to cut the fake color out and be natural. Letting my hair go back to its natural color was not an idea I came up on my own. A friend of mine told me last fall that she had stopped coloring her hair. My first reaction was not me, nope; I’m not ready for that yet. The idea grew on me. I guess I needed time to adjust to the idea.

This blog is the first time I’ve told more than like five people about my hair issue. Sometimes I wonder if people I see regularly have noticed my multi-color hair. Do I think the color is more noticeable than it really is or are my friends being too polite to say anything? The last time I got my hair cut one of the other hairdressers said she had a client letting her hair go natural. All the color can’t be cut out at one time unless you want to shave your head. I’m not ready to go that far. It is kind of freeing not to have to schedule the time to color your hair. Life made simpler.

A couple of more haircuts and my hair will be its natural color. It will be interesting to see what color that turns out to be. If I am not happy with whatever the color natural is, I can always go back to the coloring. The way things stand now, I don’t think I’ll do that but you never know. Comfort and simplicity dictates my fashion sense now. I leave being cool to the younger folks. That time has passed for me and I’m fine with that. I like not having to worry about keeping up with the latest trends. Just being who I am. All because of the color of my hair.

New Year’s with The King

I get blog alerts about Elvis Presley. This year on New Year’s Eve, a lot of the blogs made mention of Elvis having done three concerts on New Year’s Eve during his career. The first was in 1955, the second in 1975, and the third in 1976. I went to two of these concerts. Now I’m getting some years on me but even I was too young to attend any concert in 1955. I did make it to the two New Year’s Eve shows Elvis performed in the 1970s. 

The first one was in Pontiac, Michigan in 1975. That was the first time this Southern gal went up North. Life going on normally with snow on the ground was a very new experience for me. The South closes down as the first snow flake drifts from the sky, having gone to the grocery to lay in a supply of milk and bread.

Elvis performed in the then new Silverdome football stadium.  My husband had called RCA, Elvis’ record company and talked some rep into getting us eleventh row tickets. They turned out to be good seats. A floor on the football field with a very high stage in the middle, made people in closer seats unable to see Elvis. It was very cold on the field -forty degrees.

Not only was it cold on the field but the stage was cold too. The band and back-up singers wore coats. Elvis was rumored to be unhappy with the stage because he was far away from the back-up singers. The stage was two tiered with the singers and some of the band being above Elvis.  At one point Elvis had to leave the stage to change jumpsuits. He ripped the seat out of the first jumpsuit.

One thing stands out in my mind about that concert. Elvis was known for giving scarves to fans during shows. The Pontiac show had a twist. Elvis couldn’t hand the scarves to people in the audience as he usually did. The stage was too high. To get the scarves out into the audience, Elvis tied knots in them and threw them as hard as he could. I can remember the scarves making a whooshing sound as they whizzed by my head.

The Pontiac show finished abruptly. A couple of days later, the newspapers reported that a man had threatened to shoot Elvis. Leaving the stadium, I thought I had been to a very special concert because I thought Elvis wouldn’t play another show on New Year’s Eve. I was wrong. He did perform again the next year on New Year’s Eve in Pittsburgh, PA. I attended that show too. What wonderful memories I have of both times I spent New Year’s Eve with Elvis.

The Wedding

My oldest son got married in February. Here’s my take on “The Wedding.”

Josh and Ashley got married at “The Mill” in Lebanon, TN, which is outside of Nashville. This is an old textile mill that made blankets for over a hundred years. The wedding was not what I think of as pretty, in the sense of the traditional way but very modern. Most of the pictures were done before the wedding; they didn’t care about seeing each before the ceremony.




This is our family photo with the bride and groom. My guys clean up nice, don’t they? My dress was the work of my best friend since junior high who is an amazing person. I am not a dress up person. Knowing that I needed help, she put the whole outfit together for less than fifty dollars! What a great friend. The photo above is how we all looked the day of the wedding.




This is Ashley and her bridesmaids. Her colors were pewter and yellow. She had seven bridesmaids so Josh had seven groomsmen. I heard several comments during the course of the day about how handsome the groomsmen looked.




This wedding had one thing I had never heard of – a female usher. She seated Steve and me. The wedding director told her to take each of us by the arm and walk us in. I said ain’t going to happen, so she walked in front of us and I walked in on Steve’s arm.




The pastor who married them did an excellent job of personalizing the ceremony. He talked about both of them being in the music industry and that being the way they met. Just a super job.





The reception was simple. They had a coffee bar,





a candy buffet,





a wedding cake,





and a groom’s cake.

(Think Josh is a Yankees’ fan??)

Then the reception was over and it was time for them to leave. The best man, Josh’s younger brother, Paul, and the groomsmen did not plan ahead so the streamers on the car said “Happy Birthday.” That was all they could find at the Dollar Store during the reception.







They had a very interesting wedding night. Josh got very ill and Ashley had to take him to the ER the next morning. He was dehydrated and had to be given an IV of fluids before she could take him home.

(Young people take pictures of everything now!)

But Josh got well and Ashley didn’t come down with whatever he had. They had a great honeymoon, or so I’ve been told.




Now they are back starting their “real life.” Josh will be going back on the road soon. I know it will be hard the first time they are apart after the wedding. I’m sure they will handle it well.

A long and happy marriage to Josh and Ashley!

Why?

The other night at dinner my husband asked me a question that I had no answer for right off the top of my head. We were talking about the topic that makes up about 90% of our conversations these days; our oldest son’s upcoming wedding. In the course of what we were discussing, I said something about how I would be using the journal my husband gave me for Christmas by the time we leave for the wedding. The journal I’m about to finish up is over-sized. The new one will be easier to pack. Then my husband asked the question – why did I keep a journal?

I had no answer for that question. In the sixth grade I began to keep my first diary. It was a small green book with a lock and key. Of course the key soon got lost but that didn’t matter much. No one was dying to read what I wrote. From that time on, I have written about my life. Not everyday. Heaven knows I’m not that organized. Sometimes I go for long stretches of time without writing in a journal. Yet I always come back to it.

One period of time that I wrote very detailed journal entries was from about 1973 until the late 1970s. These journals were about the time I saw Elvis Presley in concert. For some reason I felt it very important to document my Elvis adventures. Now I am glad I have these journals. The thought has been in my mind to turn them into a book about being a die hard Elvis fan.

Later in life when I went to college (I went to college when my youngest son was a senior in high school. Late bloomer is an understatement in my case.) journaling was used in some of my classes. Journals were a tool used to get older students back into the swing of writing. That pushed me to start writing in my personal journals again. Now I write in my journal everyday. Why do I do it?

Writing lets me express myself. I can put down what I really think and feel. Blogging is the way people write about their daily life nowadays. I blog too but blogging is too public for me. I’m not the kind of person who would write something on a blog that could hurt someone who might have access to the blog. My journal is private. I know someday someone will have the task of deciding what to do with my journals.

Maybe future family members will be interested in what life was like for me. One generation getting a peep into how another generation thought and felt. Back to the question that started this whole blog – why do I write in a journal? Well, to be truthful there is only one good reason; I enjoy it. Writing in my journal is something I do just for myself. My own private time. And that is reason enough for me.

Swine Flu Blues

Don’t get sick! Not if you can help it. My husband, Steve and I found that out the hard way this past week. Steve got sick and went to the doctor. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? Well it’s not. Swine flu has made things complicated. Before he even got to the doctor, my company nicely told me that I might need to stay home. I wasn’t aware of their swine flu policy since I am only into my second week of the job. I really didn’t think much about having to stay out of work. Swine flu was not even on my radar.

That all changed when we got to the doctor. See, where we live, since it isn’t flu season yet, if you can’t be diagnosed with anything definite, then you are treated for the swine flu. Blood tests aren’t given for H1N1 unless you go to the hospital emergency room. Just where every sick person wants to spend four or so hours—the ER. Not!

Steve’s doctor really thought he had pneumonia. Actually it seems he was pulling for it but when the x-rays were read, no pneumonia was detected. As a matter of elimination, Steve is being treated for the swine flu. Not only Steve is being treated but I’m on medication too, as a preventive measure. The Tamiflu was expensive, even with insurance. I don’t know what people with children and no insurance will do when this flu gets cranked up in the schools. If his fever stays gone, I can go back to work after Labor Day. Steve may have to wait out his cough before being allowed back.

Keep in mind; we don’t know if Steve had the swine flu. We’ll still have to take the flu shots and I guess we really could have a confirmed case of swine flu later on. Who would have thought pneumonia would be preferred over the flu? I hope too many of you don’t have to experience the swine flu but if the media is to be believed, a lot of you will. You can get through it. Just keep humming the swine flu blues.

A Birthday Gift from Elvis

A gift can sometimes be a very rare thing and I was lucky enough to receive such a rare gift from Elvis. How many Elvis fans can say they got a birthday gift from Elvis? I am one of the fortunate few. My gift was a song Elvis sang on New Year’s Eve, 1976, while performing in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The night Elvis sang the song, I had no idea it had anything to do with me. I wouldn’t know that until two months later in February, 1977. Sounds strange, doesn’t it? Well, it all started in March of 1976.

Elvis was playing three shows in Johnson City, Tennessee. He was staying in a not-so- nice hotel in Bristol, Tennessee. We, my husband, a friend, and myself, went to look at Elvis’s plane at the airport on Kingsport. Then we went over to Bristol to check out the hotel where Elvis was staying. At the hotel coffee shop, we met Al Strada, one of Elvis’ bodyguards.

Our friend had just returned from our hometown about three hours away with contact sheets of pictures from the previous night’s show. This was in the olden days, before digital cameras. Even before one hour film processing, so it was unusual to see photos from a concert the next day. (My husband and friend used a pro-lab who could do this. It wasn’t like they took the film to the local drugstore.) While we were talking I said I wished Elvis would perform my favorite song in concert, Rags to Riches. Al wasn’t aware that Elvis had recorded a version of the song.

In December Elvis performed Rags to Riches at the piano during his Pittsburgh New Year’s Eve concert. I in no way related it to my birthday which was the same day; it would be nearly two months later, February, 1977 that the two events would be connected for me. We saw Al again in Charlotte, NC. He smiled and asked me how I liked my birthday present. I was floored. How had any of them known it was my birthday? Looking back at that night, I figured it out. About seven of us had been waiting for Elvis when he arrived in Pittsburgh from the concert in Atlanta, Georgia. The advance team had allowed us to stay in the underground parking garage to watch Elvis arrive, telling the hotel manager that we were ok. (That night is another story in itself. One for another blog.) The guys couldn’t believe we came all the way to Pittsburgh to attend a concert when Atlanta was so much closer to our home. My husband explained that New Year’s Eve was my birthday. That cleared up the mystery of how Elvis, Al, or anyone knew it was my birthday.

Every year on my birthday I always remember the year I got one of the best presents ever – the year Elvis sang my favorite song for me. It is one of my own private memories of Elvis and I treasure it.

Movies and History

I love movies and history. When I can combine the two, I am in heaven. That happens when I watch “Silent Sundays” on Turner Classic Movies. Last week the silent movie was D.W. Griffith’s Broken Blossoms. Broken Blossoms or The Yellow Man and the Girl was released in 1919, which makes the film ninety years old. That is unbelievable, especially to realize the fact while watching the movie. When I watch these old silent movies, I get caught up in the backgrounds. Sometimes the movie companies filmed outside of the studios on the streets. So a glimpse is provided into how the streets appeared at that time. Costumes can also reflect the clothing styles of the period the film was made.

Old movies reflect the thinking of the times in which they were made. Broken Blossoms addresses the issue of the few choices available to women during this time. The young girl is advised not to marry by a friend who is made old before her time by having many children, little money, and a lazy husband. The young girl’s only other option is the streets. Local prostitutes warn her away from that life. The film was conversational when it was released because it was an interracial love story. The alternative title says it all, The Yellow Man and the Girl. An Asian man falls in love with a Caucasian girl. That wouldn’t be very conversational now but it was pretty racy stuff for 1919.

What would raise eyebrows today is the age of the girl in the film. In the original story on which the film was based, the young girl is twelve years old. Griffith changed her age to fifteen. This change had nothing to do with the character but everything to do with the actress playing the role. Lillian Gish was twenty-six when she played the role of the young girl in Broken Blossoms. Griffith upped the character’s age from twelve to fifteen to make Gish’s appearance more believable. Either age would make audiences uncomfortable today.

“Silent Sundays” comes on TCM at midnight, which really makes it Monday, doesn’t it? Check these movies out sometimes. Use that handy DVR. It’ll be a nice combination of movies and history.