Death and music

Yesterday had two - count 'em, 2! - Somethings New.

First, Sweet Hubby and I accompanied our darling friend Ruth to Earth, a business which specializes in composting burial, sometimes known as Terramation (that's the tradename of another company).  Earth calls the process "soil transformation".  We were met there by Emily, a ginger-haired, tattooed, pierced, young funeral director.  She was the antithesis of what one expects a funeral director to be.  She gave us a tour of the facility, and it was clear that she was not interested in sales, but rather in knowledge.  She explained the entire process clearly, answering our questions, taking her time, very friendly and bright.  A perfect tour guide.

I signed up with the Neptune Society several years ago, but the more I learn about cremation, the more certain I am that composted burial is the way to go.  Cremation puts toxins into the air, while allowing the body to become compost is actually good for the environment.  An informative, enjoyable afternoon talking about death and body disposition.

Then last night as I was doing laundry, I could hear the music SH was played while he took down the wall panels in his office.  There was a guitar number playing that was so powerful and beautiful, I found myself frozen, enveloped, listening with a mouth opened in absorbed concentration.  At the end, I hollered "What was that?  That was fantastic!"  It was Gary Moore's "Still Got the Blues", SH's favorite piece by one of his favorite musical artists.

It struck me that the way I responded to this music is yet one more indication of how well suited SH and I are to each other.  We both get goosebumps at so many of the same things.

A sweet day

Sweet Hubby and I keep ourselves busy during the days, sometimes barely crossing paths even when we're both in the house, except for meals and the day's end.  He is usually downstairs at his computer or working on clearing away clutter and taking down walls.  If I'm home, I'm usually in my office writing or looking things up or playing games or whatever.  I'm also out of the house a great deal more than he, taking walks, getting together with friends, writing in cafés.

So it was a real treat when he suggested last Sunday that we take the day to be together.  I asked that we walk a paved trail we had driven past several times on our way to donate blood.  I'd noticed the trail but wasn't comfortable with the idea of walking it alone.  A couple of years ago I'd had two potentially scary incidents in one day when I was out walking in a secluded place, and I find I'm less bold than I used to be.  This path, part of the extensive Interurban Trail, wasn't particularly picturesque, as it went through an industrial area.  But walking it with SH satisfied a "one of these days" itch I'd had, which made it quite enjoyable.

Afterward we drove around and stopped at the first likely looking restaurant, an Italian place called Romeo's.  The food was good (most Italian food is), and our special treat was that an amateur jazz band was performing.

I love this sort of day, when we are together and choose to explore a different area than our usual neighborhood.  None of it was exciting or anything, but it was nice and I was with Sweet Hubby.  A sweet day all around. 

Too late, too bad

Recently I decided at last that I was going to visit the Museum of Museums.  I had come across it accidently some time last year and kept thinking that one of these days I would explore it.  It describes itself thusly: Housed in a renovated mid-century medical building, MoM hosts two formal exhibition spaces, three additional on-site museums, rotating installations, murals and sculpture, a theater, weekly art classes, pop-ups, and conceptual gift shop.

Sadly, the MoM has closed.  "One of these days" had gone on too long, and I was too late.  Very disappointing.

I satisfied my quest for Something New by having lunch at a vegan restaurant I had passed many times.  The Impossible (or was it Beyond?) Burger was quite good, and I'm glad I finally tried this place, although I don't know that I'll go again.

When I lived in Los Angeles, I didn't know any vegans, and I can only remember one vegetarian.  She was one of the agents in the large real estate company for which I was office manager, my last job in L.A.  Vegetarians were rare enough then that the other agents would gather around Kim when she ate lunch and ask things like "Do you actually like vegetables?  Do you get enough to eat?  Don't you get tired of broccoli?  Why are you a vegetarian?"

Now that I live in Seattle, I know a large number of vegetarians and a few vegans.  I also know a lot of people who have long lists of things they won't or can't eat.  (My list has one item on it: cilantro.  If it ain't cilantro and can call itself food, I'll put it in my mouth.)  So different from my L.A. experience.  I don't know if that's a regional difference or a difference in the era. 

I admire vegetarians and vegans.  I have both kinds of cookbooks and using recipes from them.  I was a vegetarian once for several  years, and during that time began using all sorts of food I hadn't before, such as tofu, tempe, eggplant, dried beans.  I did enjoy the feeling of virtue that went with not eating animals.  But my true inclination is toward omnivorism. 

It's a a property of humans that we can be completely aware that one thing is better than another, and still do what we like instead of that which we know we should.  I know that vegetarianism is so much better for the planet, not to mention better for the animals, than carnivorism.  But I like bacon and burgers and roasted chicken and ham sandwiches, so I eat them, with only a tiny occasional twinge of self-condemnation now and then.  It explains a lot about to me about the state of the world when I remember this.  

Singing for books

I've known about the Seattle Women's Chorus since I moved here more than 20 years ago, but had never been to one of their concerts.  Until two days ago.

SWC was giving a concert titled "Banned and Beloved", comprised of some existing songs and some songs which had been commissioned especially for this concert.  All of the songs were based on or tributes to or referenced books which have been banned in some states, such as Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz, Heather Has Two Mommies, This Book is Gay, Beloved, etc.  As soon as I heard of this concert, I bought tickets for me and Sweet Hubby.  Even though attending the concert didn't concretely help to un-ban any of these books nor bring the country to its senses, I felt I had to be there as a way to say "I am deeply troubled by the current trend of book banning and want to add my voice to those who protest it."

It is absolutely unbelievable to me that this is a country that bans books.  And such a wide range of books for such a wide range of reasons.  Books about racism and slavery, books about homo- and trans- sexuality.  Books with talking animals.  (Apparently some overly religious folks think talking animals are abhorrent to some god or another.  I wonder if they also want to censor Mickey Mouse and Bambi.)  Even the dictionary is being banned in some counties, because there are words in it about body parts and sex.  WHAT???  Banning the dictionary???  

The argument seems to be that reading books about racism and slavery will make children uncomfortable.  Well, yes, it might.  It should.  These are terribly uncomfortable topics, to say the least.  But they are part of the world that was and the world that is and possibly, sadly, the world that will be.  Life is full of all sorts discomforts.  Shouldn't we be teaching our children how to navigate their discomfort rather than trying to save them from it?   

And I guess the fear is that books about sexual differences will somehow magically make children gay or decide to become trans or some kind of nonsense.  Do these banners understand nothing?  There's no power in the world that can turn a straight person gay or a gay person straight.  If it ain't natural, it ain't happening.  

Why are they only trying to protect the feelings of straight white children?  Don't people of color and people who are LGBTQAI+ deserve to find themselves in books as well?  And this business about banning books with talking animals - that's like banning imagination, which is what allows us to create stories about aliens and time travel and mermaids and gods and being able to fly and, yes, talking animals.  Imagination is what gives us the ability to solve problems and to put ourselves in someone else's shoes.

Okay, I'm a bit riled up, as well I should be, as we all should be.  And again, I know attending this concert didn't reverse the banning trend.  But I loved being there, weeping through it all, applauding like mad for the music and for the underlying message.  I'm so glad we went.  And now I've seen the Seattle Women's Chorus.  Brava to them!