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Posts Tagged ‘Neil Diamond’

The man was rocking last night.  You can’t even add the qualifier, for a man in his 70s, because it don’t matter what his age, Neil Diamond was rocking.  I think he’s lowered the key for some of his songs, but he always had a deep voice.  It was a great show, just as great as the shows I’ve seen over the past 30 years.

30 years.  How did that happen?  In looking back through those 30 years, looking at it from how many Neil concerts I attended, puts an interesting perspective on where I am in my life.  He’s been a constant in my relationship with my mom.  Mothers and daughters all have ups and downs, shifts in the normal of their relationships as each role changes over the years.  But through all of the shifts my mom and I have gone through, we have always had Neil Diamond and the concerts as a touchstone.

The song I love the most is “Beautiful Noise”.  It just makes me smile and think about the good things in life.  During our lunch I would try to explain to Neil that the lyrics in the song remind me of so many stages of life.  I also love the rhythm to the song.

“Like the clickety-clack of a train on the tracks.”

“What a beautiful noise coming up from the park.  It’s the song of the kids and it plays until dark.”

My family is my beautiful noise.  The sound of us eating dinner at the dining room table.  The sound of the boys playing in their room or at the park or in the backyard.  That beautiful noise is one I try to keep floating around in my head to remind me of where my energies belong.  I need, want, to spend my energy on my family.  I don’t want to waste any of it on petty situations that arise in my life.  I try to remember that this too shall pass, whatever “this” I’m facing in a day.

Life is full of many beautiful noises if I don’t fill my ears with idle chatter and clatter.  This photo is a visual representation of a beautiful noise for me.  It is Neil in there, you just have to look at it from the abstract.

I enjoyed savoring the music last night, the energy of the crowd that had come together to enjoy the many decades of beautiful noises created by Neil Diamond.

                               

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I would love to have lunch with Neil Diamond.  Don’t know where we would have lunch, perhaps a good New York deli.  Someone told me today that her cousin met Neil Diamond at a restaurant.  He was alone and he said the “it’s not glamorous” speech.  Her cousin gave Neil his telephone number.  But he went out on some errands and missed the phone call from Neil!  I would have gone home and taken a seat by my phone for at least a week!

To be continued tomorrow…

Because tomorrow my mom and I will see Neil again.  Thirty years ago we saw him together for the first time.  Ah, it’s a Beautiful Noise.

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My ear has been ringing all day and I didn’t even party like it’s 1999 at a club last night.  I do go to the Neil Diamond concert 

in a week or so, and may have ringing then.  But face it, Sweet Caroline is worth the ringing.  So why am I suffering from the annoying ringing and muted audio associated with tinnitus?  I have no bloody clue.

According to http://www.mayoclininc.com, while annoying, it is usually not something serious.  Tinnitus isn’t the actual problem, it’s the symptom.  Well now I have lines from two movies going through my head.  One is from 1975…”but not the symptoms!” and the other is from 1989…”Yeah, well that symptom is ______ing my wife!”  You figure it out (no googling, you should just know it) and you can post a comment to tell me what movies you think I’m talking about.

There’s a third movie I’m thinking about and this one actually refers to tinnitus as “club disease”-if you know this classic, post it in your comment as well.

So back to my tinnitus.  What is the underlying cause, I wonder?  I clean my ears regularly.  Not in an invasive way that may cause damage and I’m not a swimmer so it’s not swimmer’s ear (“I’m not a strong swimmer…”–huge bonus points if you can tell me where that quote comes from!).  According to our dear friends at Mayo, it could be age-related heating loss, ear injury, or something else, blah, blah, blah, bhr, bhr, bhr.  I’m thinking it’s an ear injury.  I have no knowledge of an injury to my ear, but younger son slept in our bed last night.  It seems pretty reasonable to think that he swung his arm over and nailed my ear with his Popeye arm.   Little dude has some well developed muscles.  I’m just really hopeful it goes away soon because I had to ask people to repeat themselves today, couldn’t hear half of my class tonight, and the ringing is driving me crazy, a short trip, some would say.

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As I always crave new school supplies in time for the arrival of the first day of school, I recently bought myself a new insulated lunch bag.  It’s the Mystery Machine with Scooby Doo and the whole gang staring out the windows.  That’s right, I will never grow up.  The other annual tradition is singing Neil Diamond’s “September Morn” as the mornings grow chilly and the leaves start to hint at the orange about to peek out.

My sons went to bed tonight with mixed emotions.  They don’t seem to want to show me that they are excited for school, perhaps they are afraid I’ll tell their friends that they actually do like learning.  Or they suffer from the same anxiety their mother felt each September when facing a new classroom, a new teacher, and a new mix of classmates.  The elementary school I went to wasn’t that big, there really weren’t any surprises waiting for me, yet each September my stomach would knot up as I wondered about the new school year.

My oldest is wondering how to stop talking too much.  I told him third grade was when I finally figured it out.  Although I have told him before that I had the same comments on my report cards, tonight he seemed to really hear me when I said the teachers always wrote, “her work is fine, but she needs to work on not talking so much.”  He seemed a little relieved to know he’s not the only kid who has done this.  He said some of the students don’t like him because of it and this upsets him.  Mama Bear wants to go and talk to those kids, but that’s not how I need to handle this situation.  I need to keep supporting my verbose son as he learns how to control the need to verbally express everything exactly when he wants to.  So my heart will be with him tomorrow as he spends too much time trying not to talk.  I hope he simply enjoys the first day of school and ignores the kids telling him that he  talks too much.

My youngest was reminded to be patient with his classmates, especially if he has never met them before.  I gently helped him recall that they will need some time to adapt to his pronunciation of certain words.  I told him not to shout in their faces if they asked him to say something a second or third time.  I encouraged him to remember that when I ask him to repeat something it’s because I really want to know what he thinks or feels and that the kids at school do too.  Mama Bear wants to be there in case anyone makes fun of the way he pronounces certain words, but again, not how to handle it.  Hug when he’s hurt by it and help him understand that this too will pass. Here’s hoping that he doesn’t hit anyone either.  He doesn’t always have a reason when he does that.  My thought is he does that when he’s just too frustrated about something.  He also whacks his own head when he’s frustrated, though I’m beginning to think the real motivation behind that action is to get a laugh-which it is hard to not laugh when he smacks himself like Moe smacking Curly.

Each son will go to school wearing an outfit that makes him feel super comfortable with his uniqueness.  The third grader will no doubt be wearing khaki shorts, a dinosaur t-shirt, and his beloved red vest.  The first grader will be wearing his black skull shirt and black shorts.  He wore his black socks today, so unless he pulls them from the hamper, (okay, who am I kidding)-unless he picks them up off the floor, he’ll have to wear white socks.  They each have backpacks packed way too heavily with all of the school supplies they have to bring in and I’m even staggering some of the items.  I truly doubt the teachers need 20 sets of dry erase markers or boxes of tissues or wipes on the first day.  They can bring them in later this week.

And so my little Addams Family-esque sons will make their way into school tomorrow morning and march down the hall to their own drummers.  They’ll be in separate lunch periods this year and each will be able to claim a bit of individual space as they scan their fingers to pay for the food (How cool is that?  They pay by scanning their fingers! So much for brown bagging it!).  And as I wipe tears from my face while taking an obscene amount of pictures, I’ll be praying that God helps them avoid peer pressure, listen to the important stuff, follow directions, and truly enjoy this ritual of childhood…the first day of school.

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