Twisted Bed Sheets

Why on earth would you hoist up a bunch of twisted bed sheets, snaked through each other, suspended from somewhere up the mast of a traditional yacht at anchor? That was my question as I started to watch this video and then it got very interesting....



The Blue Peter from Nichole Raab on Vimeo.

Woodstock

I didn't go to Woodstock. It was the summer between high school graduation and starting college .... I was still under my parents thumb, still looked like a high school geek and, quite frankly, I don't like big crowds. I have a dim recollection of knowing people who did go and my impression from their anecdotes was it was a chaotic, mind numbing, sleepless, muddy, squalorous; a weed, mesc and LSD saturated party. Most of the quarter million never got close enough to hear the music. Still, when you catch me watching the Woodstock movie, you will see my absorption; for this is my generation, my tribe in all it's colors, and radical righteousness, and hippie zaniness, and Woodstock marks the beginning of a questioning voice I would find later in college.

Two home movies from YouTube;

WaPo No. 1 - To Re-Pot oneself

I read the Washington Post newspaper haphazardly; one day it may be the Style section, the next day it may be the Business section. No rhyme or reason; whatever headline might catch my fancy at the moment. On January 9, going through the Metro section I dawdled on the Obituaries and came across this interesting quote from the remaining spouse;

"His wife of 52 years, Reba Watson Heyman .... added ..... every eight years he wanted to re-pot himself."

Re-pot himself .... what a wonderful term for someone who takes another direction in life, someone unpredictable, someone who takes up another interest, another career.