Musical Memories

Over the last few months that the Chick has been teaching YogaDance and other classes, we have spent a lot of time thinking about music here in the Lilypad.  For the Chick, the Music is pretty much As Important as the movement in her classes.

We attach a lot of meaning to music.  It is able to transport us to different times in our lives (both good and bad.)  I am struck with musical memories all the time.

Last week, I was confronted with a musical memory in the form of a donation to the Library.  We have a support group called the Friends of the Library, and they collect books and other items that people are getting rid, sort through them, and then sell them to make money for the Library.  People drop off stuff all the time.

And what did we get last week?  A box of record albums!!

It was fun to look through a whole box of albums, but there was one in particular that I had to write about because it was SO FUNNY!!!

This album is one that I grew up with.  My dad owned it.  He LOVED Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass.

Who doesn't, right?

Well, I looked at this particular album about a million times when I was little.  Like seriously-- one million.  And every time I looked at it, what did I think?

"Oh, my!  Look at that pretty wedding dress!"

And so, there it was int his box of records and I saw it and I exclaimed to my co-workers, "OMG!  I totally remember this record!!"  And, I (innocently) held it up.

"Ummmmm....what is she wearing???" asked one of my co-workers.

To which I replied, "Well, a wedding dre...."  My voice trailed off as I turned the album around.

Here is what I saw:

OK, so this lady is totally wearing whipped cream!!

Hey!  I was little!!  I didn't know!!!

Anyhow, it was fun to remember and FUNNY to see it from a new perspective.

Zoe and Blueberry and I now leave you with this video-- one of our favorite Herb Alpert Hits, "Tijuana Taxi."  I swear, it will make you want to drink a martini.

Is there a Dream Interpreter in the House?

Did you ever have one of those dreams?

You know the ones I mean. Disjointed. Weird.

At first when you wake up, you think, "Wow! That was so, like, meaningful!"

When I have these dreams, I wake up convinced that they make sense.

Like the dream I had about the cat sitting totally enraptured by the different kinds of coffee in the coffee aisle at the grocery store. That makes sense, right?

Or, the dream I had about the Elephant Panda Dog. You know, the one in the kick line that looked right at me and winked. Now that was profound. Wasn't it?

Elephant Panda Dog this!

So, the other night, I had one of those dreams.

In my dream a couple of events took place.

The first thing was that I woke and walked down the hallway to feed Zoe. So far, so good, right?

Mmmmm.... not quite. The gate to her room was open and Zoe was nowhere to be found. There were a few other other rabbits in her room, lined up neatly in their own little Willow Chalets, resting. Also, Zoe's room was not Zoe's actual, current room-- it was my bedroom from when I was little in the house I grew up in.

In lieu of herself and inside her empty Chalet, Miss Zoe had left a handwritten note, a list of sorts for my perusal. The list was labeled at the top: "HOUSEHOLD ENERGY POLICIES," and it continued on to outline the things she did not like. I woke the Blisschick to show her the list. Her response? "Oh, that RABBIT!" (Miss Zoe's handwriting, I am Proud to say, was very neat.)

"And, why shouldn't I be concerned with
Household Energy Policies?"

Then, there was a knock at the door. We went downstairs and opened the door to find Spider-Man standing there in strange, large, thick, squarish glasses. The Blisschick responded to this sight by saying, "Oh, it's YOU!" and promptly shut the door on him.

This is SO the face of someone who would slam the door on Spidey!

Again, the door we opened and closed on Spider-Man was in the kitchen of the house I grew up in, not in our current kitchen.

I must say, Spider-Man looked quite forlorn as the door swung closed in his bespectacled face. Poor Spidey. He kind of made a pouty lip. Not that attractive on a Superhero, I have to say.

And, so I ask: Is there a Dream Interpreter out there? Someone who can tell me why the phrase Household Energy Policies would show up in my dream, when, to me those are not really words? I mean, I would never venture to say those words in real life.

As for Spider-Man? Come on-- help me out here.

I have to say, Blisschick and I had a good laugh about it all. The things she said "Oh, that Rabbit!" and "Oh, it's you!" seem like pretty typical Blisschick statements, actually, which added to the funny.

But seriously, if this dream is supposed to mean something deep about my subconscious, I'm kind of curious as to what.

In the meantime, Miss Zoe is simply hoping that if the Green Goblin or Doctor Octopus show up outside her window, that Spider-Man remembers it was Blisschick and not her who slammed the door on him.

I'm pretty sure he'll remember.

Me and My Shadow

Zoe clearly saw her shadow this morning.
She's still mystified and a bit disenchanted
by the concept of a holiday dedicated to a groundhog.
"Of all the animals..." she keeps muttering.

Happy Groundhog Day!!

We here in Pennsylvania are pretty proud of our weather predicting Hog. Though I always feel bad for him having to be dragged out of bed to have his cute belly exposed on national television. And, every year, we say, "Of course he saw his shadow! He's under all those lights from the TV cameras!"

Nevertheless, it's a fun holiday, and I like it.

One summer when I was little, we had a groundhog (we called him a "woodchuck" but they are the same thing-- they also go by the monikers "land beaver" and "whistle pig"), who would come into our yard every evening at dusk to munch our grass. He had one lame leg, maybe from a birth defect, maybe from an accident. Needless to say, he wasn't the fastest woodchuck on the block. We called him Woodrow.

My dad and I took to going out to sit in the yard near Woodrow each night when he would amble out from the field behind our yard for his evening repast. Each evening, the three of us inched a little closer and a little closer. Finally, one night, Woodrow let my dad give him a little pat. After a few days, my dad let me try. Groundhogs have really wicked teeth. If they went postal on you, you'd be in trouble. So, we took our time.

I'll never forget the feeling of his fur. Soft, yet course. He felt like a combination of a cat and a porcupine, if you can imagine such a combo. He looked right at me when I petted him. Right into my eyes. His eyes didn't looked scared. Maybe because he knew he was too slow to get away anyway.

But I like to think maybe he knew our intention was just to spend a little time with him and make a little connection with him.

We stopped petting him after a couple of days. We didn't want him to get freaked out, and we were worried his friends might see him hanging out with people and shun him. But we still enjoyed sitting out in the grass to watch him.

After that summer, we never saw him again. Perhaps he retired to Punxatawny?

Whatever the case, I have always felt honored by that experience. It's something I'll never forget.

As a totem animal (Blisschick butting in here), groundhogs are considered powerful but difficult. They are challenging us to enter more deeply into our subconscious. They are often the totem animals of shamans and mystics.

"Whatever!" Zoe said and rolled her eyes.

Let's all raise our glasses in a toast: "To the magical, mystical groundhog!"

Bottom's Up. Cheers to the Whistle Pig.