dharmabummer's Open Salon Blog

You are now entering Austin City Limits

Thu, 8 Oct 2009 12:10:07 -0400

For over six years I've lived within walking distance of Zilker Park-- the location of an annual three day music festival spawned from the famous Austin City Limits program. This past weekend I attended for the very first time. Why was it my first ACL? I love live music but I've had bad experiences with big, all day festivals. Especially in Texas. It gets hot and people get drunk and stupid and someone always gets into a fight. Not my idea of fun. But I loved the line-up this year and so my fella (knowing that I will be buried in school work and out of pocket for most of October) gifted me with 3 day passes so we could relax and have some fun before the month slips by.

Walking up to the entrance we couldn't help but overhear the sorority sisters walking behind us. "Okay, y'all. I just tweeted for the whole group so we're 'OK'."

After going through the tight tunnels that comprised the security checkpoints we emerged into a pristine, green field of grass-- the field where I frequently run with my dog. Some 70,000 people mill about, sprawl on the grass and dance to the music. The girls are dressed cutely in sundresses with cowboy boots and the guys are in khaki shorts and ball caps. The festival grounds are immaculate and organized. There is security and lots of food and booze vendors, loads of recycling centers and information stands. I feel safe. And happy. Ready for fun. I slip off my sandals and the grass feels delicious under my toes.

Poi Dog Pondering was the first act we caught and they were pretty groovy but we were a bit cramped under the tent. We elect to arrive much earlier for the larger acts.

Daniel Johnston was our second act. His hands shook visibly as he sang but he seemed in pretty good spirits. Good spirits for Daniel Johnston, anyway. An odd thing about this set: at the start of one of his darkest, moodiest songs a couple of the event organizers dropped a few beach balls into the audience for us to toss around. A little incongruous. To say the least. Had they heard of Daniel Johnston?

We camp out early for John Legend because I NEEDED TO SEE JOHN LEGEND up close.

And I did.

When he came out into the audience I turned into a 16 year old and started jumping up and down and screamed myself hoarse. He was almost close enough to touch. Achingly beautiful and with such a rich voice. I love this man.

Others felt the same.

They couldn't get their panties up on the stage so they just hoisted ‘em up on a flag pole and called it a day. One of the things I've always loved about Austin; it's a place where you can let your freak flag fly.

He ended his show with "Green Light". In the middle of the song he took his shirt off and I nearly lost my mind. I have no pictures of the shirtless John Legend but it is burned into my visual cortex and I plan on replaying the image over and over again in my dreams.

That is one fine man.

Here is another.

(MINE)

We relaxed on our backs as we listened to Andrew Bird so I didn't get any pics. I'd only heard a song or two of his but I am now a fan. That guy is a genius.

On Saturday it rained-- and I worked-- all day. Sunday we returned to find that the pristine, green lawn had turned into a sea of mud. People slid around in their galoshes and bare feet with terrific grins on their faces. What’s a little ~~treated sewage flecked with hay~~ mud?

We were about 10 feet behind this spectacle.

Ben Harper & the Relentless 7 drew a huge crowd and while his band was a little over-amplified for my damaged eardrums, Ben Harper is about as cool a human being as I have ever seen.

The highlight of the weekend for me was Michael Franti and Spearhead. Michael Franti is so charismatic and energetic and his songs are so positive and uplifting that many people describe his concerts as a spiritual experience. I’m inclined to agree. Sunday night we were 2 of the 25,000 people bouncing in unison to “Say Hey (I love you)” and when he sang, God is too big for just one religion, we loudly howled our approval.

Michael Franti

The crowd for Michael Franti.

(Bonus points if you can identify the Dr. Seuss reference in this song.)

And at the end the moon rose over Kings Of Leon, Eddie Vedder got into the mud with us and Ben Harper and Perry Ferrel joined Pearl Jam for the final song. My camera and my batteries were spent so we slid home with our ears ringing and our bodies and spirits pulsing with sweet, sweet music.

Bittersweet symphony

Wed, 16 Sep 2009 11:09:07 -0400

It seems as if every slice of sweet is being served with a generous dollop of bitter, lately. They say the recession is likely over but healthcare reform appears dead in the water. The violent crime rate has dropped but we're killing each other by driving while texting, now.

The bitter always follows the sweet.

Yesterday I awoke with a smile on my face. It's been a long, tough summer but autumn beckons and promises new hope and adventure. And the new fella I’m seeing is so sweet and polite that he not only opens the car door for me, he tucks me into my seat with a kiss. Feeling good, I stretched, fed the dog, brewed the java and checked my email. The name of my high school sweetheart was in the subject line but the sender was a mutual friend so I knew exactly what the message would be: Sam died early yesterday morning. His wife held his hand as he passed.

I’ve know about Sam’s brain tumor for a year and so this was not unexpected but I was surprised to find that I felt nothing. Or rather, I felt as if I’d swallowed a hairball; my throat and eyes were dry. Emotionally, I felt blank. All day. Until yoga class.

I teach yoga, lecture and provide therapy at a place where people go to heal. This week there is an adorable gay couple staying with us. (Let’s call them David and Patrick.) They’ve visited us before but this trip is different; David had a sudden heart-attack a few months ago and it threw them both for a major loop. They are only in their mid-40s and very fit and healthy, so it came as a complete shock and they are coping with the trauma and recovery with a lot of care and tenderness. Yesterday David and Patrick came into my restorative yoga class, along with around 5 other students. I stretched them out gently and folded and unfolded them into a few different postures, while guiding them in meditation. At the end I covered everyone in blankets, covered their eyes with little silk pillows and guided them to honor something in their lives for which they felt grateful. I turned my back to put something away and as I turned around Patrick and David reached out for each other-- silently, without looking-- and held hands.

That did it.

The floodgates opened and I silently wept for my poor sweet Sam and for his wife and kids. I wept with sadness for his 8 year old son, who is now angry at God and for his 37 year old wife, who now must parent alone and for my own sense of gratitude for knowing and loving Sam and for having nothing but happy memories of him. I wept for David and Patrick and for how honored I felt to bear witness to their devotion to each other and for how hard their struggles have surely been. And I wept for the whole bloody humanity of it all. What a mess we are! How we struggle to live a life with purpose and to perfect our love for each other! How we struggle to be loved and to finally let go.

Sometimes I feel like my heart is going to explode because I feel so much.

With all of their faults and flaws, people can be hard to love. But they’re harder not to. Some people hold onto love and keep it as something precious and rare and only parcel it out on rare occasions; dusting it off and bringing it out like the good china at Christmas. I ain't one of those people. Love is my everyday dish.

In yoga we sit in a circle. This has great significance for in a circle, all points are equal. The circle is the form of nature. In nature, all things move in cycles. There are seasons, day and night, life and death, darkness moving into light and returning to dark again. To hold onto any point on the circle is to lose our original nature because there is no place we begin and nowhere we end.

And to deny the bitter is to never savor the sweet. If I had all the answers then I would have no mystery. I'm sad but I'm happy to be sad and I really wouldn't have it any other way.

As if I had a choice.

Sunday night

Tue, 8 Sep 2009 17:09:18 -0400

It was a good omen.

When I walked into the lounge Margo Valiante was singing “Angel from Montgomery”-- one of my favorite songs.

I saw him from across the room as he stood to greet me. His “wow” was the answer to my “hello”.

We hugged and then settled in at a spot overlooking the lake. Our knees grazed under the table as we talked for an hour, then two. He pulled his chair closer to mine as the people next to us grew louder and after a few minutes he pulled my chair closer, too. He asked good questions and listened intently. He smiled. His eyes were dancing. He liked what I had to say. And to everything he said my heart cried out: yes, yes, yes.

He fingered the embroidered hem of my dress and said, “this dress…..thank you for wearing this dress.”

I excused myself for a minute and when I returned to the table he stood up.

We walked outside and down to the lake. I stood at the railing, watching the moonlight reflected on the lake and feeling the breeze on my skin and his hips pressed into my back. His arms wrapped around me and I leaned back and felt his heart beating fast.

I closed my eyes and smiled and smiled and smiled.

Best of my worst - updated! and worse than evah!

Mon, 31 Aug 2009 23:08:12 -0400

Best/Worst Love song

With you I'm born again-- Billy Preston with Syreeta

I still think this song is completely sweet and wonderful but it came out when my parents were getting divorced and it just conjures up memories of my mother crying and alone. In those days I would have done anything to comfort her but this song (and Johnny Mathis) seemed to soothe her best.

The video is lovely 70's glamour, with 2 inches of blue eyeshadow and wide lapels.

I really miss Billy Preston.

Best/Worst song, overall.

The year: 1991. The place: Houston Texas.

I was a poor college student and the health club I had been sneaking into for four months finally busted me. The swarthy Personal Trainer/day manager approached me as I huffed along on the treadmill.

"Our 5:30 aerobics instructor just called in sick. Can you sub for her?"

"Ummmm....I'm not an aerobics instructor....I just..um..."

"--Sneak in during the slow hours? Yeah, I've noticed. Look, you take the classes....If you teach tonight I won't rat you out."

"Mmmmkay"

That's what I think of when I hear this song. Making the ladies sweat it out to Marky Mark.

"Donny D's on the back up, drug free so put the crack up!"

Next to Jalepeno spiced potato chips, this is my favorite guilty pleasure.

OOoooooh. You feel it, baby? I do too.

Best/Worst 70's classic

Superstar by The Carpenters

Satellite radio brought this song back to me just this week and I admit I found myself singing along with gusto.

Don't tell anyone.

Where the wild things are

Thu, 3 Sep 2009 11:09:06 -0400

I've been house sitting for my parents for the past week. I live near downtown and they live on the lake and though there are only around 12 miles between us, sometimes it feels a world apart. Though not technically the country, their property is heavily wooded and quite wild. Yesterday when I went to collect the mail a 6 inch gecko came out, surfing on this month's Better Homes and Gardens. And while showering this morning I reached to pick up the bar of soap and watched as a scorpion crawled out of the drain, covered in suds.

Not too long ago, one of their neighbors caught a havelina in their herb garden. Another had their poor Pomeranian devoured by a hungry bobcat.

Today I woke to these wild things.

And after they had their morning stretches and scratches and snacks we went for a walk. 8:00 am and it's 86 degrees already and will reach 103, yet again. I return, dogs panting, and I'm covered in sweat. The dogs cool their heels while I water the plants when out of the corner of my eye I spot something. Something, some creature is swimming frantic circles in the pool, trying to find a way out. I climb down to the deck and peer in to find a baby squirrel, seconds from drowning. It's little legs paddling as fast as they can and only his tiny snout above water. I grab the net and fish him out but water logged and spent, he looks to be a goner. I grab one of the beach towels that was drying on the deck and wrap him in it and then hold him in my lap while the dogs lose their minds over what appears to be an excellent playtoy. I hold him in my lap and think healing thoughts. He's only a rodent but he is a living thing and no living things are gonna die on my watch. Even the scorpion lived to tell about his experience, surviving a tsunami of Pantene.

I sing a little song that's been stuck in my head all morning and after a few minutes the squirrel starts to wriggle. I open up the towel in the bushes and he crawls out, stares at me for a second and then tears off into the woods.

My good deed done for the day, I crown myself QUEEN OF ALL WILD THINGS and I slip off my clothes and climb into the pool.

If you loved this book as I did then you will either cheer or cry blasphemy when you see this trailer. (I cheered)