The Year of...

Dear Darlings,

I forgot to tell you the good news:  2019 is The Year of the Sudden Surge of Confidence.   Plan big and bold!

Last year, I found out from a pal, rather late into it, was The Year of the Grocery Bag.  I loved that year, too, but this year promises unexpected outcomes, because when you surge with confidence, you never know what you might get!

For myself, I want to try a novel in a month and baking challah together for the Shabbos Project. I also plan to get some loaner roller skates in your size, so we can skate together once or twice a month.  Meet me at the top of the parking garage, or the new skate park- don't worry, I have extra helmets and knee pads, too.

Oh there's good plans in the making all around-  I just sent you a letter postdated for December 25- I
know you are going to love your Christmas post!  I can't wait for you to open it!

Our First.

Dear New Year,

Here we are, in our first meeting of this new year.  Yes, yes, I know how arbitrary it all is, but I love a little ceremony and mark making.  And so I present the first song of the day for the year on Radio Dodo.  In honor of the newness, this is a song I only just heard, for the first time.  My DJ just played it for me. 

Let's meet back here next year, and see what we think about this song of today.

Gone

Dear Those Who Have Gone On,

I was looking through some boxes of snapshots-  I know you will recogninize the feeling- like so many drifts and avalanches of déjà vu.  All those different people, so many of them dead and gone, or forgotton, and many of them are me.

It's an exisitential crisis in saturated color on a 5 inch scrap of paper.  It probably isn't good for humans to have this much self awareness.  On the other hand, why is it so sad?  Why would years that I know were perfectly good years, perfectly fabulous times, now gone, bring sadness to consider them?  Is it just "the missing," or is it "the lost and never was anyway?"  I do not know.  But I intend to keep on poking at the sleeping beast.  Yesterday must have some meaning, some relevance for today.  But, it's like a dream you can't quite remember; all sliding away even as it forms on the back of your eyeballs.

Looking at the past in photographs is a form of transcendental time travel, only it isn't working right.  Whatever working right would mean.  I don't think it would mean that everything would prove to have a rhyme and a reason, but I think it would allow you to proceed with less doubt and more truth.  It would mean that you could be that bright spirit that you would like to be, without having to wish for it. 

Anyway, when I saw your picture, I thought of you, and I wanted you to know that I miss you.

Can You?

Dear Hopeful and Hopeless,

Your song for today, and I wish you both good luck, you're gonna need it.

200

Two hundred days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nearing the Solstice.

Dear Listening and Looking,

Here is your song for today.  I know, I said a had a problem with the whining squeal of the mandolin, and here we are, with my words for a tasty snack.  Still, ask yourself, does this song really need the mandolin?  Another case for keeping the mandolin. 

After consideration, let's leave it for now, but plan to seriously review mandolin use soon.

by beautiful chance

Dear Lucky,

A bit of writing by the composer of your song for today caught my eye, because it was a review of a book about Debussy.  As I read the review aloud to the staff here at the Dodo, we played some of the works mentioned in the article.  Then, we played this piece by the reviewer of the book, to sort of bring it all home.  It's really lovely and I know you will enjoy it immensely.























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