Here Are Five Good Reasons Why “The Walking Dead” is The Best Series on Television

With “Dexter” off the air, Mike and I needed a new TV series to watch.  We settled on “The Walking Dead,” the zombie series on AMC.  We weren’t sure we’d like it, but we figured we’d give it a shot.

 

We’re hooked.

As I may have mentioned before, I am a horror fan (check this blog entry out).  Mike, not so much, but we both just love this show.  It’s about a group of survivors banding together to fight “the walkers,” as they come to refer to the zombies who seem to multiply exponentially each week.  Being human, they also end up fighting other groups of survivors, as well as one another.

The show has it all – good guys, bad guys, blood, guts (literally), beheadings.  Who could ask for anything more? 

So allow me to present the Five Good Reasons Why “The Walking Dead” is The Best Series on Television!

1.  The Show is About Zombies!

Unless you've been living under a rock the last couple of years, you no doubt already know that "The Walking Dead" is about a zombie apocalypse.  The amazing thing about that is, it still took me this long to watch it.  I've seen the original "Night of the Living Dead" a dozen times, and the various sequels and remakes as well.  I even saw "Shaun of the Dead" (which is really funny).  Heck, for that matter, I have "She's Not There" on my iTunes!  (That was done by The Zombies...I know, a stretch...)

Anyway, for my money, just the fact that the show is about zombies is reason enough to give it a shot.

2.  The Hero of the Show is Not Very Heroic

Rick Grimes, the small town sheriff who by default becomes leader of the group of surviving humans who make up the main cast of the show, is, well, sort of a weenie.  

(SPOILER ALERT - NEXT SENTENCE!!)

He lacks the cajones  to confront his wife and "best friend," who are pretty obviously hot for each other.  

He absolutely sucks at making any sort of tough decisions.  Even his kid is tougher and smarter than he is!  But still, for whatever reason, the entire group considers him their leader.  Go figure.  It does make for some interesting stories, and it definitely breaks the monotony of all those shows where the leader is some sort of mythic, super-brave, super-smart hero.

Rick Grimes (and some Walkers, most of
whom are probably better leaders than he is)

3.  The Writers Are Not Shy About Killing People Off

It always bothers me when a movie or series about something like this shows all these people getting killed by the plague, or the vampire, or the serial killer, or the zombies...yet the core group all manage to survive.  It's just not realistic.  And when I started watching "The Walking Dead," I assumed I'd be seeing more of the same.

I was wrong.

This show kills off main characters on a regular basis!  I love it!  I don't want to give anything away to those of you who, after reading my blog, are understandably inspired to start watching the show, but suffice to say, don't get too attached to anyone in the group, because at any moment, they could become a zombie's dinner.

4.  This is Where All Those Strong Female Characters We Never See Are Hanging Out!

If, like me, you have always hated how reliant on the "menfolk" women tend to be in these sci-fi/horror shows, your disappointment is about to be abated.  This show is chock full of brave, smart, resourceful women!  From Lori Grimes (surprise - she's smarter and braver than husband Rick, just like, well, pretty much everyone else on the show) to Maggie to Andrea, there are more strong, interesting female characters than you can shake a stick at.  (And, by the way, I would not shake that stick at any of the zombies, it just pisses them off.)

For a long time, my favorite was Carol, the former victim of a wife-beating jerk who, once her creepy-ass husband is out of the picture, becomes the real leader of the group in a lot of ways.  Smart, tough and determined, she kicked ass week after week.

But then a new character showed up.  And that brings me to reason number five.

5.  Michonne

We had already become firmly addicted to the show when, at the end of the second season, a mysterious muscled and dreadlocked black woman showed up, toting a katana (have I mentioned Mike and I were both completely enamored of the Highlander series and films?) and leading around two chained walkers who've had their jaws and arms removed to prevent them from attacking her.  She saved one of the show's main characters, but was still oddball enough for both of us to look at one another and go, "what the...?"

But Michonne stuck around, not saying a whole lot at first, but instead speaking with her katana.  And man, is she good with that sword!

By the end of the third season, she was our favorite character on the show.  She is strong, smart, resourceful and absolutely fearless.  She's played with supreme perfection by a woman named Danai Gurira.  I know nothing about her, but she does an absolutely killer job.  The show is worth watching just for Michonne.

Michonne - the best female character
on television!

And there you have it.  The best series on television.  If you watch it already, you know.

If you don't - what are you waiting for?

Here Are Five Good Reasons Why Music Matters

If you’ve read more than one or two of my blog posts, then you probably know I’m a huge music fan.  I’ve been listening to music since I was about 8, when my babysitter would take my sister and me to watch the old Elvis Presley movies.  Everything changed when the Beatles showed up, of course, and I guess that’s when my love affair with rock and roll, and most of its odd little sub-genres, really took off.

Well, I’m 60 now, and its still going strong.

To me, music in general, or rock and rock in particular, is pretty much a series of songs, performers, writers, albums - or what have you - that sort of "grab" you, and don’t let go. 

Defining moments?  Not quite.  The Beatles on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” watching Hendrix set fire to his guitar during “Monterey Pop” (my mother took me to see that film!), the first time I saw and heard the Sex Pistols…these were some of the defining moments for me. 

But I think what I mean here, for the purpose of this blog, is more like, I don’t know, revelations, maybe?  There have probably been hundreds, and this almost certainly won’t be my only blog post about some of them.  But I thought it would be kind of interesting to talk about a few of them, since I’ve been thinking lately about what exactly it is about music that “gets” to me.

So, for what it’s worth (which, coincidentally, is the name of a great song), here, in no particular order, are five good reasons why music…well, why music matters.  It just…matters.

1. “The Kick Inside”

Kate Bush released her debut album, “The Kick Inside,” in 1978.  It’s full of amazing songs and performances, and the lyrics are nothing short of incredible.

Yes, there are plenty of amazing, incredible albums out there.  And a lot of them feature songs written by the musician or musicians.  But Kate Bush was 19 years old when this album came out.  She’d written every song on the album – some of them several years earlier.  To this day, that fact never fails to delight me.

As I wrote in a blog post a while back, I fall in love with songs.  And, as I also wrote in that same post, in 1978, while in London visiting my friend Annie, I fell in love with Kate’s song “Wuthering Heights.”  This, to me, is one of those songs you can’t possibly listen to and be ambivalent about.  The vocal is, well, pretty “out there.”  I love it, but I know not everyone does.   And the song itself is exactly what it sounds like – it’s an homage to the Emily Bronte novel.  What more could an English major who loves rock and roll ask for?

I bought the album while still in London, and discovered that there were other songs nearly as good on there.  Another of my favorites is “Room for the Life,” which presents the listener with the opportunity to experience the pure joy of listening to one of pop’s all time great voices – that of a teenager, remember! - express what it means to be a woman.

“Trying to prove that you're better, woman.

But you needn't get heavy with them.

Like it or not, we were built tough,

Because we're woman.”

In “Oh To Be in Love,” the teenage Kate sings:

“All the colours look brighter now.

Everything they say seems to sound new.

Slipping into tomorrow too quick,

Yesterday always too good to forget.”

How can someone that young possibly know so much about being in love?

But don’t take my word for it.  Not when the entire album is available for your listening pleasure on You Tube (which, in my opinion, is one of the seven wonders of the world - butter pecan ice cream being another).  The Kick Inside – Full Album

2.  “You and Your Sister”

Chris Bell was one half of the writing team of Chilton/Bell, Chilton being Alex Chilton, former lead singer with The Box Tops (“give me a ticket for an aeroplane, ain’t got time to take a fast train…my baby just wrote me a letter” – yeah, that guy.  He was 16 when he sang that, by the way).  Together, they wrote some of the most amazing pop songs of the 1970’s, as half of Big Star, a Memphis-based band that influenced everyone from The dB’s to R.E.M.  Their debut album, optimistically titled “#1 Record,” stands to this day as a testament to their amazing talents, and is regularly named as one of the best pop records of all time.  Chilton and Bell were often described by critics as the American version of Lennon and McCartney.  But internal struggles and drug and alcohol abuse led to the disintegration of the band, and after two more albums, “Radio City” (another gem, on which Bell’s somewhat sporadic presence is profoundly felt, despite his having quit and rejoined the band during the album’s recording) and “Sister Lovers” (also known as “Big Star’s Third,” this one is basically a chronicle of Chilton’s emotional breakdown), Big Star broke up, not to reform until well into the 1990’s. 

Sadly, Chris Bell was killed in a one car accident in 1978.  He was 27 years old.

In 1992, an album called “I Am The Cosmos” was released, a collection of solo material recorded back in the mid to late 70’s by Bell , with the help of various musician friends.  In his review of the album, famed music critic Robert Christgau wrote that it’s “clear from Bell's very posthumous solo album . . . that Big Star was his idea.”

One song appears in three different versions on “I Am The Cosmos.”  That song, “You and Your Sister,” might very well be the single most beautiful, as well as the single most heartbreaking, song I have ever heard.  While there are also both an “acoustic” and a “country” version, both of which are pretty awesome, it’s the original version that I am completely and totally in love with.  (Listen to it here.)

I listened to this song for years before learning, as the brilliant documentary “Big Star: Nothing Can Hurt Me” was being made, that Chris Bell struggled with his sexual identity, never able to come to terms with it (remember, he lived in the South in the ‘60’s and ‘70’s).  The song simply broke my heart before, but now it literally brings tears to my eyes.

“Your sister says that I'm no good

I'd reassure her if I could…

Let me whisper in your ear

Don't you worry, they can't hear

All I want to do is to spend some time with you

So I can hold you…hold you.”

The vocal is, simply put, painful to listen to.  Not because of his voice – Chris Bell had a beautiful voice.  But the pain and longing he puts out there for everyone to see is just…well, achingly, heartbreakingly…real.

This is music, or more accurately, art, at its absolute finest.

3.  Two Amazing Voices - Scott Walker and Iain Matthews

The Walker Brothers weren’t technically a part of the famed British Invasion of the 1960’s.  While they were huge in England, for some reason they never really made it over here.  Which is ironic, since the “brothers” (John Maus, Gary Leeds and Scott Engel were no relation to one another) were all American-born.  They did score a couple of minor hits in the U.S., most notably “Make It Easy on Yourself” and “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine (Anymore).”   I was a big fan, and continued to be a fan of Scott Walker after the group broke up and he continued his solo career.

To say Scott Walker did not fit the mold of a ‘60’s pop idol is putting it mildly.  He was certainly handsome enough, but he tended to be moody and reclusive, not exactly attributes that lent themselves to pop stardom back in the days of “Tiger Beat” magazine and the “Shindig” TV show.  And his voice was not the voice of a Peter Noone or a Davy Jones, rather, it was the beautiful, deep baritone of someone with much more musical maturity.  On his first post-Walker Brothers album, “Scott,” Walker sang songs written by Jacques Brel, or songs originally recorded by the likes of Tony Bennett.

Subsequent releases proved fairly popular in England, and over the years Walker started to move toward more experimental and avant-garde music.  But “Scott” remains one of my favorite albums.  Listen to the man sing the Brel classic “My Death,” and tell me you don’t get chills.  (Listen here.)

When I was just out of high school, I bought an album called “If You Saw Thro’ My Eyes.”  It was by Ian Matthews (he later reverted to the original spelling of his first name), who had previously been with the acclaimed folk band Fairport Convention.  It immediately became one of my all time favorite records, and I was thrilled, a few years ago, to finally be able to score a copy of the reissued CD.  Every song on it is a beauty, and the main attraction is Matthews’ pure, lovely voice.

He’s made a lot of records since then, and has done covers of some great songs, usually improving on the original (check out the Michael Nesmith song “Propinquity” or Jackson Browne’s “These Days” on “Valley Hi”). 

But it’s this album that I always go back to.  It’s a whole lot quieter and more gentle than most of the music I love, but, for pure, simple beauty, this album is hard to beat.  (YouTube has what appears to be the entire album uploaded here.)

Scott Walker and Iain Matthews - two men whose vocal styles could not be more different, and yet, to my mind, two of the finest singers ever.

4.  Evan Dando

I have to tell you, if I had a nickel for every time one of my favorite singer/songwriters was named to People Magazines “50 Most Beautiful People” list…well, I’d have a nickel.

Of course, I’d always been aware of Evan Dando, front man for The Lemonheads.  No one walks around looking like that without people being aware of their existence.  (No one has such a well-documented substance abuse history without people knowing about it, either.)  But I wasn’t overly familiar with his music until recently.  And when I did start to listen to it, I have to say, it hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks.  Dando might be pretty, but he’s also a damn talented songwriter.  His lyrics and melodies are nothing short of terrific.  I also love his voice, and he’s a pretty decent guitarist to boot.  After only a few listens, I moved The Lemonheads’ beautiful, haunting “It’s a Shame About Ray” (co-written with Tom Morgan) onto my fairly short list of all-time favorite songs.  (The video features actor Johnny Depp, and here’s a link to it.)

Dando’s written and recorded a whole lot of other gems as well, among them “Confetti,” “Hannah and Gabi” and “If I Could Talk, I’d Tell You.”  Not to mention the mildly country and charmingly weird “Big Gay Heart,” in which Dando manages to sound sweet while singing about getting his, ah, organ serviced.

Another thing I love about Evan is his unpredictable but fascinating taste in covers.  The Lemonheads have covered songs by acts as diverse as Suzanne Vega (“Luka”), Linda Ronstadt (“Different Drum”), Simon and Garfunkel (“Mrs. Robinson,” which gave them one of their bigger hits), Whitney Houston (“How Will I Know”) and even New Kids on the Block (no, not a joke – check out “Step by Step,” I love it!).

Plus, he’s something of a space shot, and more than a little goofy. (Don’t believe me?  Check this out.)  Attributes I tend to like in friends as well as musicians.

5.  Rock’s Best Guitarist

I’ve been a huge Jeff Beck fan since my teens.  I’ve never denied Clapton’s talent, or Hendrix’s either.  But I’ve never considered either of them Beck’s equal - and don’t even talk to me about people like Eddie Van Halen or Joe Perry, they can’t touch him.  The fact that Rolling Stone could come out with a list of the 100 greatest guitarists of all time, and put Jeff Beck at #5 is a complete travesty.  Really?  Keith Richards is a better guitarist than Jeff Beck?  In what alternate universe?

For me, one of the most amazing things about Beck is his incredible range.  He could always throw together a bluesy riff as easily as most people breathe (Yardbirds, early solo work), but he could also more than do justice to jazz fusion, rock and roll, or rockabilly as well.

I’ve always loved his version of Stevie Wonder’s “Cause We’ve Ended as Lovers.”   When I learned that there was a version of the song with actual song lyrics, done by Syreeta Wright, I remember going out and buying the album.  There’s nothing wrong with the version sung by Wright, but I remember being bitterly disappointed that the version in which the words were actually sung had so much less passion and feeling than Beck’s instrumental.  (Enjoy it here.)

I’ve seen Beck play live on multiple occasions, most recently a couple of months ago on his tour with Brian Wilson.  The man turns 70 this year, and he still plays like he did in his prime.  He was the undisputed star of the evening.

So there you have it - some diverse music-related musings (some might say ramblings) from someone who does not profess to be a knowledgeable musician (can’t read or write music, and have been accused of being basically tone deaf) or even a knowledgeable critic (I admit to being too close minded to give certain genres, such as country and western and heavy metal, a fair shake), but who loves music – a lot.

Here Are Five Good Reasons Why I Won't Remember 2013 Fondly

Am I the only one who finds that, the older I get, the faster time seems to go by?

It’s nice when that happens at work.  It’s nice when that happens in the weeks and months preceding an eagerly anticipated trip.  But in the grand scheme of things, it bothers me more than it pleases me.  Because, the faster time goes by, the less time there is left.  Yes, I know that’s an unpleasant and somewhat depressing thought.  But, if you’ve been reading my blog on a regular basis, you probably know by now that I’ll never be accused of being a “Pollyanna” type.

But Pollyanna or not, one thing I can tell you for sure is that 2013 cannot end soon enough for me.  This year has brought a lot of unhappiness into my life, and I won’t be even a little bit sorry to see it go.  So, if the time between now and January 1, 2014 flies by quickly, I won’t complain at all.

I know there are lots and lots of people – many of them more directly involved in some of the events I am about to reluctantly revisit below than I actually was – who have had a much tougher year than I have.  But I couldn’t let this year come to a close without remembering some of the significant things that have affected me over the past twelve months. 

So, without further ado, here are the Five Good Reasons Why I Won’t Remember 2013 Fondly.   

Or, to be more blunt, the Five Good Reasons 2013 Sucked.

1.  April 15

On April 15, the city I love and call home was the victim of a terrorist bombing. 

I still can’t even quite believe it really happened.

Monday, April 15 was Patriot’s Day, a holiday commemorating the first shot fired in the American Revolution.  It is only recognized as a holiday here in Massachusetts, and in one other state (Maine?).  The day is celebrated here with a morning Red Sox game at Fenway Park, and the running of the Boston Marathon.  Some businesses are closed.  Mine was open, and I was at work around 3:00, when my cell phone buzzed with “breaking news.”  I looked over at the pop-up, and it said something about an explosion being reported near the finish line.  It didn’t really hit me what they were trying to say until follow-ups started coming in.

Someone had set off two bombs at the finish line of the Boston Marathon.  By the end of the day, we learned three people had been killed, and several hundred injured.  Some of the injuries were quite serious, involving the loss of limbs.  A neighbor in my building was running that day.  (Thankfully he was okay, as was his family.)  People come here from all over the globe to participate in what is considered one of the premier marathons in the world.  This day is usually one in which our city is celebrated for its history and its beauty.  That two young men with hatred in their hearts could turn the day into a national tragedy both horrified and angered me.  I remember coming home from work, and Mike, seeing the shape I was in, saying, “bad things happen,” in an effort to calm me down and help me get some perspective.  It had the opposite affect.  I just looked at him, and said, “But they DON’T happen HERE,” and started crying.  (Much as I am doing right now, as I type this.)

That “attitude,” if you will, seems to have been the prevailing one around here.   Almost immediately, people everywhere were using the phrase “Boston Strong.”  Red Sox slugger David Ortiz, originally from the Dominican Republic, perhaps said it best when he proclaimed, five days later, at the first Fenway game to be played following the bombings, “This is our fucking city.”  Sure, we were hurt, and we were sad, but God damn it, nobody screws with us.  We pretty much proved that a few days later, when we shut down the entire city until we found the bombers.

Bostonians are nothing if not tough.

2.  April 15 (part two) and May 28

Wasn’t there a movie called “Death Takes a Holiday?”  Maybe not.  Regardless, death most assuredly didn’t take any holidays in 2013.

The world of literature lost Tom Clancy and Elmore Leonard.  The entertainment world lost James Gandolfini and Cory Monteith from “Glee.”  The sports world lost Ken Norton, Earl Weaver and Stan Musial.  The world of science and technology lost Ray Dolby.  The music world lost Ray Manzarek, Faye Hunter, Alvin Lee and Lou Reed. 

The human race at large lost Nelson Mandela.

On a more personal level, we lost two people in our small condo building, one suddenly, and one after a long battle with cancer. 

And a couple of people who were important to me, in different ways and at different times in my life, left this world much, much too soon.

On the same day Boston was being bombed, one of the most talented and criminally under-appreciated musical talents in the history of pop music passed away suddenly in California.  I didn’t learn of Scott Miller’s passing until that Thursday, while checking Facebook as I waited for a train into work.  He was a songwriter of unmatched intelligence, humor and wit.  One of my very first blog entries is a testament to his talent, and you can read it here. 

Upon his passing, a rather odd, and strangely wonderful, thing started to happen.  The Facebook group for his fans, all of us mourning his loss in our own ways, started to bond in a way I don’t think I could have ever predicted.  Friendships began.  A former band mate and lifelong friend started a fund for the future education of Scott’s young daughters.  (Here.)  His friends, band mates from a 30+ year career, and even his widow shared, and continue to share, stories, memories and photographs with his fans.  It’s still going strong, and it’s really been something pretty extraordinary to witness.  I’m decidedly Agnostic, but it’s hard for me not to believe that Scott has had a hand in this whole thing.

About six weeks after Scott Miller’s death, Steven Paul Perry passed away, after a long battle with cancer.  If Scott wasn’t well known in the musical world, Steven may have been even less so.   But he was an amazingly talented guitarist, and over the course of his career he played with the likes of Orchestra Luna with Rick Berlin and John Hiatt.

Steven was the younger brother of one of my high school friends, and he was also my first boyfriend.  He was a sweet and kind person, and, as I said, very talented.   My heart goes out to his parents, who were always very kind to me, and who I was very close to when I was younger.  They never would have dreamed back then that they would some day have to bury their youngest child, something no one should ever have to do.

There are a lot of YouTube videos of Steven’s work.  This one includes not only an interview, but also an appearance on the Tonight Show.

3.  October 15

As a woman, I’ve always dreaded my annual mammogram.  But, as a woman, I’ve always faithfully endured them.  I know how valuable they can be.  But until this year, it hadn’t really hit home just how important they actually are, and how effectively they can, and do, save lives.

Leslie is my best friend.  We’ve known each other for over 30 years, shared so many good and bad times I can’t even count them.  We’re more like sisters than friends.  We have so many memories and “in” jokes, it’s almost ridiculous.

In August, Leslie got called back for more tests after her annual mammogram.  This, in and of itself, is not unusual.  It’s happened to me before, and it’s happened to her more than once.  Still, she was convinced that this time it was bad.  And, after an ultrasound and resulting biopsy, she got the word.

You know.  That word.  Cancer.

She called me right after she heard, on a Monday afternoon, around 4:00.  And, Leslie being who she is, she called me back about two hours later, to make sure I was okay.  Yes, she was calling me to make sure I was okay.  That’s the kind of person she is.

The doctors felt they had caught the cancer very early, and that a lumpectomy would be sufficient to get all of it.  Leslie wasn’t having any of that.  She opted for a double mastectomy. 

She had her surgery at Mount Auburn Hospital on Tuesday, October 15, and was discharged the next day.  She was exhausted and in pain, but she was alive, and even laughing.

I can’t really think too hard about all the “what ifs” here.  What if she hadn’t had her annual mammogram?  What if she hadn’t followed up immediately with the ultrasound and biopsy?  What if she hadn’t opted for the double mastectomy?  (The post-surgery biopsy on the tissue from the breast without any tumors showed that tumors would likely have developed within a year or two.)   

If I think about it too hard, it starts to hit me how easily I could have lost my best friend, instead of having a celebratory dinner with her at her favorite restaurant after she started to feel better.

Leslie’s back at work now, and we just had our annual holiday lunch with my sister on Thursday afternoon.  I had a few gifts for her.  Most of them were very different than the usual gifts I get for her.  They have a lot more meaning now.  And so does just being able to have lunch with her.

4.  December 17

I had actually written my year-end blog last Monday night.  Something told me not to post it yet.  It was almost as though I felt like, if I posted it, something else would happen.

So I didn’t post it.

And something else happened anyway.

Last month, I wrote a blog about pets.  (You can read it here.)  In it, I talked about my beautiful, sweet rescue Golden Retriever, Suzie.  Last year, my husband also wrote a moving blog about Suzie (here).  As you can probably tell from reading what we wrote, Suzie was a pretty awesome dog.

You’ll no doubt notice I said “was.”

Last Tuesday morning, I said goodbye to Mike like I always do.  I think I reminded him not to forget to take Suzie to daycare.  She’d been going to a very nice daycare near his office on occasion.  She loved it there.  They loved her.

Around 8:00, my phone at work rang.  It was Mike.  He sounded…odd.  He told me I needed to go home, and when I asked what was up, he told me that, just after he’d left the daycare, they called him.  Suzie had collapsed as she ran to the other end of the room.  She died while they were on the phone with him.

He returned to the daycare immediately.  He hadn’t gone more than a mile or two before getting the call.  They, of course, felt terrible.  Nothing like this had ever happened there before.  One of the staff insisted on taking her in his van, and following Mike to our vet’s office, which is a good 15 miles away from there.  Mike says he doesn’t even remember how he got there.  He was in rough shape.

Our vet did a short exam, and didn’t see anything unusual.  He said dogs very rarely have heart attacks, and that his best guess was maybe an aneurysm.  I guess it’s some comfort to know it wasn’t anything we could possibly have noticed.  I guess it’s also some comfort to know she didn’t suffer.  But my sweet dog is gone, and finding comfort in anything right now is difficult.  (Mike wrote a short piece about her passing the other day - it's right here.)

I feel as though someone has cut a huge piece out of my heart.  It’s hard to describe, unless you’ve owned and loved a pet.  I know the pain will ease over time, and I know we might even find another dog to love.  But I also know I will miss her for the rest of my life.

5.  The Small Stuff, and the Not-so-Small Stuff

There were a lot of other lousy things that went on this year. 

People close to me continued to suffer the debilitating effects of Multiple Sclerosis, Diabetes and Parkinson’s Disease.   A close friend took a serious fall and broke her collarbone over the summer.  My husband had issues with his hip, back and neck.  I have friends who have lost people close to them, and friends who have watched their loved ones go through serious health crises. Even yours truly, who has been heard to boast at times about her sometimes ridiculously good health, suffered from both conjunctivitis and shingles.  While both were annoying, luckily, both also ended up being very mild cases.   Still, offhand, I can’t recall a less healthy year for both myself, and for those close to me.

I turned 60 this year, and that one was tough.  It sort of symbolizes the change from “middle age” to…whatever it is that comes next.  The wrinkles are looking a little less like “laugh lines.”  The back pain is a little more frequent. I sometimes find myself repeating stories I’ve already told.

Still, I’m in better shape now than I was at 50, and maybe even at 40.  I exercise several times a week, and walk at least a mile a day, usually more.  I’m still the one who gets up on a ladder to change the smoke detector batteries and the light bulbs.  And I think I’ve missed two, maybe three, days from work due to illness in the past five years.

I started wearing hearing aids this fall.  If you think that’s no big deal, then you apparently have not yet started to feel the hand of time on the back of your neck.  Trust me, I am smart enough to know I should count my blessings.  And I have quite a few of them.  A good job, a good home, a wonderful husband, a sister I adore, and friends who I love. 

But finally giving in to the advice of my husband and friends, and getting fitted for hearing aids, was tough.  Yeah, they’re “hard to see.”  I get that.  But if you look hard enough, you can see them.  That telltale plastic wire is a dead giveaway. 

But guess what?  I do hear better now.  We no longer have the television volume at a level that was becoming painful for Mike.  I no longer smile and nod at someone rather than asking them for the third time to repeat what they’ve just said.  And the best thing?  My Audiologist told me himself that the type of hearing loss I have is genetic, and has nothing to do with the loud rock music I’ve happily listened to for over 45 years.  To celebrate, I’ve asked for an iPod Nano for Christmas. 

So I guess, all in all, things could be worse.  I’m happy and healthy.  My marriage is as

strong today as it was the day we said “I do.”  Two weeks before my 60^th birthday, I rode in a helicopter over an Alaskan glacier, and took a trip on a dog sled.  I’ve met some great people this year, both at work and outside of work.  I finally got to Vancouver, where our good friends live, and I saw why they love it there so much.  I saw the “Big Star” documentary, after having contributed towards its production via Kickstarter.  (It’s great, see it.)  I started writing a blog, and found that I really enjoy it.

And best of all, I still have my best friend and partner in crime around, and will for a long, long time.