Who Are These People?

“To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.” ~e.e. cummings

I’ve been reading and deleting old blogs that I didn’t want saved on my computer. Sounds silly, perhaps, but just knowing they were there gave me the creeps.

As I was reading, I kept asking myself the same question: Who are these people, and what gives them the right to judge me? After all, we’ve never met. We’ve never had a phone conversation. We don’t know one another!

As bloggers, we chat back and forth on each other’s blogs, and we assume that everyone is as real on the outside as they are on their blogs. Right?

I could very well be an Irish Setter typing on Catherine’s laptop from the backseat of an old station wagon heading down I-95 on the way to Disney World. A bit far fetched, I know. Catherine doesn’t own a station wagon, and she’s afraid to drive on the Interstate.

We share photos (some of us do), but who knows where those photos might end up? I’ve always been opposed to people posting photos of children. Do these people have permission to share them on the world wide web? I don’t share photos of my family simply because I don’t have their permission.

What about our blogs and the stories we tell – are they real? I would like to think so. I would like to believe that those who pour out their hearts are telling us the truth. To call someone a liar is to assume you know them on a personal level, which might not be true unless you have met them in person.

Phone calls bring us closer to one another, or so we would like to believe. Do we really know that the person on the other end of the phone is who they purport to be? Not always.

A few online events still haunt me. Writing about them hasn’t helped. Deleting blogs and comments is a good start.

As for Catherine, this really is her Irish Setter speaking on her behalf. She’s watching reruns of NCIS on CBS and asked me to post this blog for her.

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

Florida
by Patty Griffin

The Cottage and the Sea

She listened to music each morning
She read by soft lights at night
The summer she stayed in the bright yellow cottage
Down by the deep blue sea

Each day she sat on the beach
Picking at shells and foam
Her needs were small for she came to stay
In hopes of reclaiming her soul

The day came when she cried out loud
At last she let it all go
She sat in the rain next to the sea
Asking what would become of her

Tell me what I should do she prayed
Please send me a sign so I’ll know
If you can’t do this for me then take me now
For I can’t go on anymore

The answer came from a stranger
Who sat on the beach that day
A stranger who came to save her life
And never turn her away

For you see she was the stranger
She learned to reclaim her soul
That summer she stayed in the bright yellow cottage
Down by the deep blue sea

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

Time
by The Alan Parsons Project

Rocker Chick (An Old Blog With a Tribute to Lynyrd Skynyrd)

Lynyrd Skynyrd -All of the original members are now gone but not forgotten … Free Bird.

From left to right, Leon Wilkeson (seated), Billy Powell (seated), Ronnie Van Zant, Gary Rossington (seated), Bob Burns, Allen Collins and Ed King.

Here is my original blog from a few years ago …

The passing of Billy Powell (2009) really tugged at my heartstrings. Billy and his family lived in this community, as did many other band members, and while I didn’t know him personally, I certainly knew about Lynyrd Skynyrd. The band originated right here in my hometown. You would be hard-pressed to find many old timers who didn’t go to school with one of the band members or didn’t know one or two of their family members. Seems everyone knows how the band got its name. I myself have a story or two to tell.

Lynyrd Skynyrd has known more than its fair share of tragedy along the way. In 2006, they were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Free Bird has always been my favorite Lynyrd Skynyrd tune.

Billy’s passing got me thinking back to a time when I dated someone who was in a local rock band. Go ahead and laugh but it’s true.

Way back when, I dated a guy in a rock band. I met him through a friend of a band member. I can’t remember what he played … the horn, I believe. The band played local clubs and dances. So, there I was, little Miss Socialite, trying to be a rock band member’s girlfriend. Let’s just say a wardrobe change was in order if I was going to fit in at all. The pearls definitely had to go.

Because I was living at home at the time, anyone I dated was required to come to the front door to pick me up for our date, come inside to chat with my parents, and basically get the once over before I was allowed to leave. This included my new rocker friend.

One night he came to pick me up with two other band members and their dates. Keep in mind they all had long hair, much longer than mine, and none of them looked liked poster children for the preppy look (which was more my style). In fact, one of the guys was wearing a vest that strongly resembled something Sonny Bono would have worn. Fur comes to mind.

I thought my parents would lose it but they didn’t. Everyone sat around chit chatting, having a good time, and then we were out the door. I think my parents enjoyed the visit far more than they were willing to admit. Years later, they were still talking about it.

On that particular evening, we went downtown to a club that had live music. Funny how these memories are rushing back. I like it. Anyway, we were sitting around a table, enjoying our beverages … probably rum and coke … when a guy came up to one of the band members (from behind) and asked him to dance.

Ronnie was his name (the band member, not the stranger). Ronnie had very long hair, and I can see how someone might have been confused if approaching Ronnie from behind. It was rather dark inside the club. Well, with that, Ronnie turned around, beard and all, looked the guy square in the eyes and said, “No, thank you.” The look on the other guy’s face was priceless. He didn’t know what to do. There was that awkward moment of silence, and then we all had a good laugh. The guy might have sat with us for a drink or two. While the guys talked music, I chit chatted with the girls. Hair and makeup might have entered into the conversation. I don’t believe we discussed pearls.

Butch was my date’s name. I’ve never dated a Butch since that time. In fact, I don’t recall that I’ve known another Butch. I wonder what his real name might have been. That much I’ve forgotten. I do recall that he was very sweet and quite cute. We went out a few more times before the band started to get busy and travel out of town. Shortly after, Butch and I lost contact. That’s all I remember about Butch and the band.

I wonder if they made it big. I hope so.

Rock on!

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

It’s Me Again

I suspect that someone will ask the same question that they have asked before: “Why are you on Twitter?”

Well … I’m a political junkie and I’m addicted to Twitter. I don’t drink or smoke, so you might say that Twitter is my drug of choice even when it makes me want to bang my head against the wall.

There are some really nice people on Twitter, but every now and then you run up against someone like Brittany while having a discussion about student loan debt forgiveness.

If I could have reached through the monitor and snatched this woman bald-headed, I would have done it.

Brittany is comparing my chemo treatments to her student loan debt. My health insurance that I pay for paid for my treatments. But, she thinks that if someone gets chemo for cancer that it should be justification enough for her to get her student loan debt forgiven.

Hand to God, Brittany might just take the cake for being the dumbest twit on Twitter that I have ever seen.

That’s it. I’m done. Brittany is now blocked.

Love … Catherine