FAREWELL DAVID McCALLUM ET. AL.

 

          I have been a fan of NCIS since it first appeared on television. I especially liked Mark Harmon although I did have difficulty in the beginning separating him from his previous role as Ted Bundy (He did an excellent job of portraying that part.). I miss his presence in NCIS since he went to live in Alaska, but he deserves a wholesome life after all the years he fought the good fight as Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

          Michael Weatherly as Anthony DiNozzo was also missed by me when he left to become Bull, although I certainly liked him in that and watched every episode. Then there was Cote de Pablo who played Ziva. I missed the sexual tension and verbal sparring between her and DiNozzo when she left. I believe the writers killed her off and left DiNozzo with their child which was the explanation for his leaving the series.

Of course, I could never forget Abby Sciuto played by Pauley Perrette. What a smart and crazy individual with tattoos, addicted to Caf-Pow and the only cast member I think I ever saw Gibbs kiss. It made me sad to read she never liked Mark Harmon and was afraid of him (Although that could just be untrue gossip.). That certainly wasn't reflected in the way they portrayed their roles. I didn’t like having her leave either and am still having difficulty with her replacement.

David McCallum who played Dr. Donald “Ducky” Mallard sort of disappeared every now and then, but always returned. I’ve liked him since he first appeared as Illya Kuryakin in The Man From U.N.C.L.E. I actually liked Illya much better than Napoleon Solo, played by Robert Vaughn. Vaughn always seemed to play a bad guy in future roles.

Anyway, it took some time to get used to the new individuals, but I did; and while I don’t like any of them as well as I liked those that left, I still faithfully watch the programs. I appreciated the fact Sean Murray, Brian Dietzen, Rocky Carroll and David McCallum remained. While it wasn’t exactly the family I’d become used to, it was still NCIS family.

When I heard David McCallum had passed away, I wondered how NCIS would handle his permanent absence and found out on the episode that aired a couple weeks ago. The writers did a wonderful job of having Ducky die. They didn’t kill him off, but had him die peacefully in his sleep…I loved that.

Now, you probably wonder why I’m writing about NCIS and the folks that were and are in that show. It’s because I found myself in tears as I watched the program depicting the death of Ducky and its ramifications on his co-workers. Michael Weatherly showed up at the very end; and while there were clips that included Gibbs and Ziva, I wish they could have appeared in person as well.

I didn’t really understand why I was crying, but having mulled this over for a while, I think it was realizing how much I miss people who have inhabited my life in some form no longer being a part of it. I’m not talking about John, my parents, or anyone who has been close to me and a significant part of my life. I’m talking about people like David McCallum, people who brought some form of joy into my life in some fashion. There are many many of those people in my seventy-eight years as there must be in everyone’s.

In recent memory, the one that hit the hardest, although I didn’t cry then was Jimmy Buffet. I loved his music and attended a concert in the Gorge with my youngest son when he was a teenager. I think he was a bit shocked and greatly surprised by the woman who danced around and sang along. Still, I have Jimmy’s music and can listen to his songs and sing along whenever I want. I just wish he were still here to contribute many more songs to his repertoire.

Of course, I could go back decades and the list of people who added something to my life in small or large ways would be almost never-ending. There was the Big Bopper, JFK, RFK, Martin Luther King, Jr., John Lennon, Bob Marley, John Belushi, Gilda Radner, Hemingway, Tolkien…it really would be never-ending.

In any case, I’m grateful for the memories each of these musicians, writers, actors, and politicians left behind. Even though I met few famous people in my life, in some small way, each and every one of so many talented individuals contributed a treasure of some form to my life.

Watching that episode of NCIS made me think about and reflect on all the losses that came before David McCallum. I had never really thought about those kinds of losses; and undoubtedly, there will be more to come. I’m truly sorry all those individuals (named and unnamed) have gone on but their words, be they in speeches, books, songs, or on film, will continue to enrich whichever day I choose to invite them back into my life.

FINGERPRINTING

 

          Here I am, seventy-eight years old and finally gave up my fingerprints to the government. I remember when my gym wanted us to sign in using our thumbprint and I refused to do so. No one was going to have my thumb-print. Now, thanks to signing up for the TSA program in order to avoid the long security lines at the airport, the government doesn’t just have my thumb-print, but a print of every single one of my digits. Guess I’d best not do anything very naughty without wearing gloves and a complete haz-mat suit.

          Of course, at my age, exactly what could I manage to do that would result in the police and/or government knocking on my door? I cannot think of a single thing; that or I have no imagination whatsoever.

          Just this morning while on FAcebook, I read about NikolaTesla who in 1926 predicted the cell phone. He was quoted as saying, “Not only this, but through television and telephony we shall see and hear each other as perfectly as though we were face-to-face, despite intervening distances of thousands of miles; and the instruments through which we shall be able to do this will fit in a vest pocket.” Pretty amazing huh? Since you cannot always depend on Facebook providing the truth, I did look this up and found the quote to be true.

          I also remember a fifty-year-old time capsule that was from (I think) Bellevue High School. One of the kids was reported as predicting the cell phone as well. I think perhaps he may have researched Tesla.

          In any case, giving up my fingerprints is something I never imagined I would do. In fact, in my childhood and youth, fingerprints were only ascribed to criminals and then mostly in mystery novels I read. Fingerprint technology was in its infancy way back then. Per old Perry Mason episodes, about the only thing the police were able to utilize was whether or not the blood was the same type. Maybe later episodes included fingerprint matching.

          Also never imagined by me, myself and I, was color television, microwaves, computers, cell phones and various other inventions which have been abandoned along the way, i.e., I-pods, reel-to-reel stereo equipment, stereo equipment for that matter since we now all have access to any music we want via the internet, ordinary watches, tape recorders, cameras (Yes, avid photographers still use cameras, but normally we just use our cell phone camera.), film, typewriters, etc. I’m sure I could devote many more words to items we once thought amazing that are no longer utilized on a regular basis by the majority.

          Sometimes I like to look back at my childhood and early adult years and admire the fact life was so simple and relatively easy. Books were my main entertainment and I traveled the world, nay, the galaxy and beyond though them. Television was just coming in, black and white and the news was fairly benign with no daily reports of mass shootings, wars on the other side of the globe, the latest on how the rich were screwing over the poor. I’m know there was some of that (Vietnam), but not to the extent we receive it these days.

          In some ways I regret my grandchildren were unable to live their lives as I lived mine back then. Time seemed to pass slowly and life didn’t seem to be on fast-forward. At the same time, I’m amazed at how they have adapted to this electronic age and their ability to utilize their cell phones for just about anything at all, be it ordering pizza or researching information for required school papers.

          Just as I didn’t want to give up my fingerprints, it’s entirely possible the grandkids have already provided theirs. I remember an elementary school program where kids were fingerprinted as a safety measure in case of kidnapping or the child going missing. I’m sure there is much other personal information besides fingerprints they have given up to the government.

          It probably doesn’t matter that the government now has my fingerprints, nor does it really matter whatever information it has with regard to my kids and grandkids. In time, people will most likely have a chip imbedded that will provide whatever information is required as well as provide the ability to perform all the various utilizations for which we now use the cell phone and computer. Were I to be alive then, I'm sure I’d avoid being chipped as long as possible, just as I avoided fingerprinting until just now.

TOP (OR BOTTOM) OF THE WORLD

 

          It is a total mystery to me how I can feel like I’m on top of the world one day and wake up the following day to feel as though the world is now on top of me. Do you ever have that experience? I have it far more often than I would like and cannot identify why this happens.

          Yesterday was a great day and I went through it feeling as though I really had my shit together. I accomplished a lot. There was some back pain, but not serious enough to keep me from chucking the ball for Kuma or take care of my usual chores around the house. I made myself a wonderful dinner of baked potato, baked squash and barbecued country style ribs…very tasty.

          I went to bed feeling good and dozed off fairly soon only to awaken and be unable to go back to sleep for hours. My Fitbit says I slept beginning at 8:42 pm and woke up at 5:47 am. During that time, it shows I was awake for one hour and twelve minutes. I beg to disagree since I know I was awake until almost midnight with the exception of the early doze off. I guess I need to move about in bed a lot more or something to let the Fitbit know I’m not sleeping.

          What woke me up before 5:00 am this morning was extreme pain in my big toe joint where it joins to the foot. The left was much worse than the right and felt as though someone were digging around in there with a very hot poker. It brought me right up out of a sound sleep. Was this due to the shoes I wore yesterday? My Fitbit shows I finally gave up and got up at 5:45 am.

          After drinking my latte and watching the crawl on Good Morning America, I felt so tired I went back to bed and fell right asleep. I didn’t wake up until almost nine when I got up, fixed another latte and my breakfast and began this post. I won’t be attending my fitness class, which begins in one minute, today. But, I do feel much better than I did the first time I woke.

          Once I’ve finished whining here, I’ll do my at home exercise program and maybe take a walk. I’ve not been walking much for some time now, just around the neighborhood with Kuma on a leash. Kuma cannot leave the neighborhood because he is such a horrible puppy, barking his fool head off and jumping around whenever he sees another dog on a leash. Since it’s kinda sunny, maybe I’ll leave the neighborhood and see how far I get on the old route I used to do most every day of the week. That should definitely make me feel as though perhaps I’ve been able to move at least up to the equator. Definitely won’t be a day on top of the world, but at least now I’m not feeling as though I’m on the bottom like I was a few hours ago.

WIDOWHOOD LESSONS

 

          No matter how old you become or what happens in your life, there’s always lessons to be learned. I’ve been a widow for almost four and a half years now and have learned a number of lessons. My least favorite was the fact that no one really wants to hear about your depression, loneliness or unhappiness…and, seriously I totally understand. Still, it’s hard to not have someone who knows you inside and out listen when you need to talk about what is foremost in your mind.

          Of course, in the beginning of my widowhood, family and friends were very solicitous as is perfectly normal. As the weeks and months went by, however, we all returned to our normal lives, except mine was no longer normal. I had to find a new normal. This wasn’t always easy as I’m sure you know if you’ve read my blog since the beginning.

          When John was alive, he always listened when I needed to talk about being depressed, complain about whatever was happening in my life that made me angry or unhappy, or just blow off steam. Sometimes, he’d offer an opinion, but mainly, he just listened…or at least pretended he was listening.

          Before I found my new normal, I began to share this kind of thinking with my kids and friends only to learn they didn’t appreciate my sharing. I mean they didn’t exactly tell me to shut up, knock it off, or ignore me, but I’m not a dummy so I got the messages no matter how oblique. It took some time and a bit of work on my part to make sure I don’t complain about my life or talk about being depressed lonely, or unhappy. And, to be perfectly clear, for the most part I am not depressed, lonely, or unhappy, but I do choose what I share.

          Fortunately, I have Kuma who became part of my new normal about eighteen months ago. While he’s incapable of responding with words to anything I have to say, he does listen and doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not hearing me. He stares back, looks into my eyes and some times tilts his head as though he’s thinking about what I just said. Kuma’s also quick with his tongue or to climb on me in his effort to provide comfort and reassurance…or, it may be more like he’s showing me who’s the alpha.

          The lessons learned in widowhood were the same ones I had previously learned in life. No one, no matter how much they love you, wants to listen forever to a litany of downer talk, that it’s okay to have a downer every now and then, but not always. It’s up to me, myself and I to find or create a remedy for depression (think and look for positivity in my life), loneliness (Kuma sure took care of that), and unhappiness (again, think about and look for what makes me, myself and I happy).

          I believe I’ve graduated from widowhood school with honors…or at least I’m choosing to see it that way today. Kuma agrees wholeheartedly with my graduation honors, and I’ve his tongue marks on my face to prove it.

WHAT IS THIS FEELING???

 

          There’s something I’ve been mulling over for a number of days now. I’ve tried to come up with a word, or words, or a description that fits what I’ve felt and nothing seems to fit. I’m in a quandry. Perhaps you, my dear reader, has had this kind of experience and can assist in identification.

          Last week I was driving on a street I don’t often use and saw something new. As a result, I immediately thought of John and what he’d have to say about the change. As I was thinking this, I felt a stutter, a rebound, almost a physical reaction in my chest to my thoughts. It made me suddenly miss him all over again with a more or less physical pain.

Have you ever had that feeling? It’s almost as if my heart missed a beat or my chest was thumped by an outside force. The result is an almost overwhelming sadness for what was there and is now gone, both with regard to the new whatever it was on the street and John.

Anyway, I’ve tried to identify this feeling with a word or words, but perhaps there isn’t a name. I just know there are times when a finding something new in my surroundings or even a memory will make my heart/body/mind stutter. This feeling is always followed by sadness. I always try to follow the sad with a conscious choice to find and remember a time(s) past that makes me feel ever so much better. It doesn't always work, but sometimes, I guess sad can be good?

Please, feel free to share your experiences and/or identification ideas.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR COMMENTS!!!

 

          When I first began to blog, people who read my posts indicated they could not figure out how to provide a comment. Most readers posted a remark on Facebook instead. As a result, I stopped paying attention to the comments section. Well, go ahead and whack me upside the head for not providing any feedback.

          Yesterday, I noticed there were two comments on a previous post. That led me to look back at all of 2023 and I found there were times when I received at least two comments and even once, maybe twice, three. Most of those remarks were made by two people…one was my brother’s first wife, Linda, and the other was Anonymous. If there are more than one person being Anonymous, there’s no way to tell.

          Please accept my apologies for neglecting to peruse the comments made over the last year. I didn’t go back any further, so if you were making comments all along, again, please accept my most sincere apologies for not reading and/or responding to them.

          I also want to thank Linda and Anonymous for their posts. It always feels good to read the comments on Facebook. Now that I know they are there sometimes, it’s going to feel wonderful to read them at the bottom of my blog posts.

          Back in August, I blogged about why I do this and stated it was for my own interest and satisfaction, and that comments, whether good or bad, didn’t matter. I continue to write simply because me, myself and I like do so…a lot. However, I must admit, comments either at the end of my posts or on Facebook do bring a smile to my face and warmth to my heart. Thank you to each and every commentator whether on my blog or on Facebook. Your comments do count…a lot.

DRIFTWOOD ARTIST???

          Last August, I blogged about my driftwood sculpture experience(s). Today, Saturday, I officially joined the Northwest Driftwood Artists (NWDA) organization at its January meeting. Not only that, but I was the last to arrive (late damn it), and when the drawing was held for the monthly prize, my number was drawn and I received a $40.00 tool for use on large pieces of driftwood. I also took advantage of the tool sale NWDA was holding and added to my tool collection.

          One of the members who has been with NWDA from practically the beginning and now serves as the historian gave a talk about the early history. I was amazed to learn how far back…the 1960s…NWDA originated. I believe there has been a number of names for the organization over the years. There was a notebook that covered some of the early times and apparently there are three additional notebooks. I was able to leaf through it, but what I really wanted to do was sit down and read page by page, all the newspaper articles about the events of those years. I also wished the photos of the driftwood sculptures had all been in color.

          It’s exciting to be in a room with other individuals who are pursuing this craft. Listening to these people who have so many years’ experiences under their belts made me want to return home and dedicate the remainder of my day to working on Percy the Porpoise. It also made me eager to go out and look for additional pieces of driftwood, or any wood really for that matter as illustrated by one of the historian’s tales.

She and her family had property on a river up near Mt. Pilchuck. They took a drive up part of the mountain to an area was being cleared for some purpose. There was a huge pile of wood the tractor had shoved out of the cleared space. She thought one piece in particular looked interesting, climbed up the pile, gave it a kick to see if it would move and then sent it tumbling down to the road. It took her husband and teenage son to load it into the station wagon…it weighed almost seventy pounds.

          We weren’t told how long it took for her to complete her sculpture. When finished, it weighed only forty-eight pounds, was four feet wide and resembled a coiled serpent. It was the tree burls that made the coils. The tree trunk below the burls was sawn off to provide the base. She didn’t have a photo with her, but is going to bring one next month. I would love to find a big piece of wood to turn into something wonderful like her sculpture.

          When I blogged about my new endeavor last August I intended to include a photo of Ott the Otter but failed to do so, but am including it here.

          I encourage you, dear reader, to visit northwestdriftwoodartists.org. There are terrific photos of the submissions to the 2023 exhibit.

          Now, I must close this post because I can hear Percy calling my name…he wants to be sanded until he feels as smooth as if he were a real porpoise.