Symmetry ... It's the Way Things Have To Be

Ella doesn't like this photo because she thinks I look sad. What I haven't shared with her is that I was not sad .... I was pouting. I like this photo because it is one of the few pictures where my hair looks red. By the time I was eight the red had faded to a hint of auburn and to brown, not its final destination, but the one I am presently maintaining.

I was pouting because that morning I had lost a fight with my mother. The fight was over symmetry or lack there of.

It was the morning of school picture day and I was the product of her careful planning. Her vision was of two barretts placed together on one side. I actually remember her placing me in front of the full length mirror to view her work. I protested violently, YOU CAN'T HAVE TWO ON ONE SIDE.  And so history goes on to prove that to the victor goes the spoiled.

Symmetry was important to me. I would stomp my feet until both shoes had the same exact tension. If anything was uneven I just found it unbearable. I am sure I was.

In my early 20s, working as a waitress at a sushi bar, the only sushi bar in the state of Vermont at the time, I was joking with a guest that a waitress's job is never done. He told me I needed to listen to some Jane Siberry. He was certain I would enjoy the song "Waitress." I thought it was a great song. It really spoke to me and we laughed at the lyric
"I'm a drag at parties because it upsets me to see so many empties ... and I have to pick them up or I have to go home."
But the song off that "No Borders Here" album that really spoke to me was "Symmetry It's the Way Things Have To Be."

That entire album haunts me to this day.

Thank You for Being With Me

I was knelt by the side of Ella's bed, tucking her in, she was four.
"Thank you for being with me," she said.
I still remember that moment.

I always feel close to my Mom when I am with Ella. After she died I kept hearing "you were so much closer to your Mom than I am to mine." I thought  those were strange words to hear. The last 12 years of my Mom's life she could not speak and I lived in California.

Up to her stroke we had talked almost everyday. Apparently we racked up some serious phone bills and I am glad we did.

Thank you for being with me.

3. It's the Magic Number

okay children what does it all mean?
Oh, yes it is! Somewhere in this hip hop soul community was born 3.
Bob, Tom & Me.

And that's the magic number. My posse consists of three and that's the magic number.

This here piece of the pie. Is not dessert but the course that we dine.
But odd as it may be
Without my one and my two where would be my three.

My 3
No more no less.

Has anyone in the audience ever been hit by a car?
How high is the water Mama?
Three feet high and rising.