The Day the Music Died

I can feel a palpable wave of sadness circling around the world as more and more people learn of the death of JJ. A void has been created that can never be filled. When is the last time such a vast hole of loss of modern musical genius was created? John Lennon?

I cannot help but think of the scene from Cleopatra 1963 when Octavian learns of the death of Marc Antony. Of course it would speak of JJ Cale instead of Marc Antony and omit the cutting your tongue out part. But other than that, it is accurate.

 

While countless news items mention his famous “Cocaine” and “After Midnight,” they seem sadly unaware of the true magnitude and brilliance of his repertoire of compositions. For more than thirty years, JJ has been composing music that few people could ever hope to compose. His mastery of the guitar was something legends are based on. Few guitarists who have ever lived will begin to ever approach his mastery of the instrument.

JJ was the perfect blend of brilliance and humility. His understanding of the human condition was unparalleled. He filled huge stadiums in Europe while the great majority of Americans never knew who he was although they may have been familiar with some of his songs.

Many of the greatest musicians who have ever lived are weeping today.

The grand patriarch of the cats of this house was named after JJ.

 

Wouldn’t you love to be there when they meet?

 

Rest in Peace, Sweet JJ Cale

The songwriter’s songwriter has left the planet. Pretty much unknown in his native U.S. of A., Mr. Cale was famous in the rest of the world and well known by musicians such as Eric Clapton, Santana, Neil Young, and countless others.

If you ever went to his concerts, you would always see “famous” musicians in the front row sitting in awe of his talent.

Thank you for the gifts you gave us all.

From his website

 

Of course he was.

This is one of my favorite songs written by the Master.

Amazing Miss Grace Discusses Forgiveness and Reconciliation and the Dakota 38

Recently, I have been at a loss for words. This is an exceedingly rare thing for me. Why have I been at a loss for words, you may ask. Because I have something of such life-changing importance to share with you, I have been paralyzed with fear I may not be able to express it in the manner it needs to be expressed.

So I did what any smart feline would do, I asked someone else to find the words I could not find. And that person is my dearly beloved friend, Jonathan Aaberg. Jonathan is the author of the enchanting and moving book, The Laplander Goose,

which can be found on Amazon and elsewhere. I consider it a must read.

http://www.amazon.com/Laplander-Goose-Jonathan-Daniel-Aaberg/dp/0984736921

Here are the words Jonathan found that I could not find. Thank you, my dear friend.

Have you ever had a dream image that, within the dream, was amazing and revelatory, yet when you articulate it in waking life, sounds too simple?  I recently had such a dream: I was walking on the long, familiar, carpet runner that pads a hallway in my home.  I saw a bit of the corner upturned. I lifted it, and I saw on the other side of the rug the threads and remnants of what was once clearly a magnificent and gorgeous tapestry (maybe a magic carpet).  I wondered, “How could I have not known this was on the underside of this runner?”

On waking I immediately felt I knew what this meant.  I grew up in the Minnesota River Valley.  That small river valley was the last home in Minnesota of the Dakota (sometimes called Sioux) Indians.  For perhaps a thousand years, 2/3 of present-day Minnesota was their home, but by the 1860s they were allowed only to live within that narrow 10-mile corridor along the Minnesota River.  It’s a beautiful river valley, and I even remember now as children we’d sometimes claim to have found arrowheads.  As children we may have sensed the history under the soil, but as adults that sense vanished and it became as if the Dakota were never there.

They were.  They had a culture as rich and beautiful as any, and as imperfect as all. They were becoming outnumbered. They were deliberately deceived as a matter of policy.  They were starving. There was food locked up in warehouses.  They were told their children could eat grass or their own dung.  They slaughtered people, some guilty, many innocent.  They were slaughtered likewise, some guilty, many innocent.  They were hunted.  They were exiled from Minnesota. Until last year a law remained on the books in Minnesota calling for their extermination or banishment from the state. (Thank you Gov. Dayton for finally cutting that bit of ugliness out of the legal tapestry). 

The Dakota war of 1862 lasted only a few months and resulted in the largest mass execution in US history (to date) which took place in the quiet river town of Mankato, Minnesota 150 years ago on the day after Christmas in 1862.  It’s not a well-known war despite it’s significance.  It forever changed the frontier and the plight of Native Americans.  It was not well known because, if there were TV at the time, the Civil War would have been on all the channels.  It was not President Lincoln’s finest hour.  Although he managed to restrain the call for vengeance and reduce the execution list to 38 (from the 300 plus originally  listed), it was by and large his patronage that put too many callous and criminal people in direct charge of Indian affairs in Minnesota, disrupting the longer-term relationships that had been evolving between Indians and Whites.

That was ugly.  And that is a lot to sweep under the rug.  I’m sorry to put such an ugly and fragmented display in front of you, but there’s a reason I did.  It provides contrast. For it is in the face of all this ugliness, hurt, and pain (felt on both sides mind you, but now more visable in the face of the Dakota), it is in the face of all this historical terror, that the people in the movie are approaching, on horseback and foot, with humility and what pride remains (a strong combination), to ask a simple thing: forgiveness.

Shocking, no? They’re asking forgiveness!? I mean, the aftermath of the Dakota war has left them a people near collective death, and has left the “victors” the spoils of war that would have been unimaginable in 1862.  And they’re asking our forgiveness?

Well, the answer lies a little deeper.  It lies in their recognition that forgiveness is possibly the only way that we can begin to close this wound.  And yes, they will ask for it first, and, yes, this implies we should ask for it in return.  But also implies that, if we ask, they will give us this precious gift. 

Some, perhaps many, will fear that this means money, and perhaps it should. But if we can dodge that giant dollar sign monster, that snake and its cynical venom, perhaps we can get to the more existential question, the deep reckoning with history and a mutual forgiveness that will allow exactly this healing, so desperately needed for both and all sides.  And you know what? I was in Mankato at the ceremony on the day after Christmas, the commemoration of the 150 years, and I think it’s starting to work.

It’s really quite simple.  Our brothers and sisters are in deep pain and perhaps near cultural death.  We are living, but with a lot of guilt.  They are offering a precious gift that can start to take that pain away from us.  And we can return the favor.  Forgive. Be forgiven. Heal.  Shouldn’t we do that?

Please watch the movie.

 

 

Happy Anniversary, Winston!!!!

Yes, my Dear Readers, believe it or not, today is the 5th anniversary of Winston’s arrival at the cottage by the sea.

Here is his fascinating story.

Winston, along with his brother Clifton, now both upstanding members of my Executive Committee, lived in Sutro Heights Park on the cliffs across from the world famous Cliff House in San Francisco. They brilliantly placed themselves behind a very long chain link fence which provided them the maximum possible protection, given their situation.

This is the view from where they lived.

They lived there for at least 4 years. A few kind souls fed them several days per week, but no one ever tried to give them a Forever Home and they were never given fresh water to drink. When they lived in the park, Clifton was known as The Brave One and Winston was known as The Shy One.

On May 21, 2008, (a happy anniversary sadly overlooked earlier this year) Clifton was simply scruffed and stuffed, as they call it. While eating at the cliff’s edge, he was grabbed by the scruff of the neck and stuffed into a carrier.

Here is Clifton the day he arrived at the cottage by the sea, after being scruffed and stuffed, rushed to the vet, and then taken to his new Forever Home.

There was much controversy in the neighborhood about the fate of The Shy One if The Brave One was taken first. But the winning point of view was, a bird in the hand is worth 2 in the bush.

It took cat experts from 4 Northern California counties in concerted effort for over 6 straight weeks trying every conceivable trapping method to figure out how to rescue The Shy One. He was one elusive dude. Each expert came to the park with great confidence believing their method would work. The Shy One shut them all down without any mercy. More than a few tears were shed and prayers were uttered.

Finally, after every other possible method was tried, it came down to this.

 

http://www.alleycat.org/page.aspx?pid=366

Well, it wasn’t this exact trap but an identical one that was custom built from PVC pipes to be balanced on the edge of a cliff. Thanks to the groundskeepers help, a large plywood platform was secured, as best it could be, to prevent all parties from tumbling head over heels down the cliff when the trapping actually happened.

Because Sutro Heights Park is part of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area and federal land, it is illegal to feed or rescue any creature dwelling therein. The groundskeeper understood that is a stupid law and helped anyway. Huge blessings to him.

As the weeks progressed after Clifton was rescued, The Shy One was hardly ever seen. He must have wondered where his brother had gone and became even more elusive and totally trap shy. As July 3rd approached like a roaring freight train, the stakes went up exponentially. You see, even though the park is a beautiful, safe place during the day, it often turns into a war zone at night. Gangs from all over the Bay Area come there when darkness arrives and gunfire abounds as does the smashing of countless bottles all over the paved paths. Even the police won’t respond once the trouble breaks loose.

The night before the holidays are the absolute worst and with the firecrackers on July 4th, everyone involved in the rescue effort believed that if they could not catch The Shy One by July 3rd, he would never be rescued.

So on July 3rd, the Alley Cat Allies style drop trap was put in place while a devoted cat lover stood about 50 feet away ready to pull the string. The tricky part is, in order for the trap to be 100% effective, another person has to be directly next to the trap ready to jump on it in a spread eagle fashion the moment the string is pulled. If this critical step is not done, it is possible the newly trapped cat will be able to lift the trap and crawl out from under it.

So everyone was in place with pounding hearts. The trap was in place. And then, much to the total disbelief of everyone, The Shy One, who had not even been seen for several weeks, walked straight up the cliff and into the trap. The string was pulled, the trap went down and The Translator dove onto the trap and started sobbing uncontrollably. Within seconds, she, The Shy One, the trap and the plywood started falling down the cliff. Apparently, at this point Divine Intervention occurred, because the whole collection stabilized.

The back up personnel sprang into action scurrying around and over the chain link fence to quickly place a large heavy blanket over the trap. Then a carrier was secured to the opening of the drop trap and The Snarling, Hissing, Growling Shy One, was gently but firmly forced into the carrier.

The groundskeeper gave all the now totally exhausted and crying people a ride to the park gate and The Shy One was rushed to the vet where he was immediately sedated so he could be examined.

Here is The Shy One, now known as Winston, when he arrived at the cottage by the sea.

Obviously, Winston’s experience in the park was very different than the experience of his brother. It was 6 months before he did not completely freak out when anyone tried to touch him.

One cat expert said that after 3 days of separation the 2 brothers would not even remember each other.

She was obviously wrong.

 

 

 

 

Happy Anniversary, Perry!!

It was eleven years ago today Perry, my Main Squeeze and Love Monkey, came to live in the cottage by the sea. Here is his fascinating story.

One Saturday in early May 2002, a cat loving couple went to the Pinole Farmers’ Market.

Pinole Farmers’ Market

This cat loving couple, Jeff and Susan, already had 5 female cats. Jeff, a top level executive at a biotechnology company that specialized in a ground breaking version of flow cytometry technology, had shared his life with cats since he was in college. So Jeff had shared his life with cats for 30+ years.

As they approached the market, after parking their car, they saw what Jeff called “the most beautiful cat I have ever seen in my life” run by with a tiny kitten in her mouth. Directly behind her was a large male in hot pursuit of this beautiful feline. (Unneutered male cats have been known to kill kittens because that will cause the unspayed female to go into heat again more quickly. This is not a pleasant characteristic of cats, but true nonetheless.)

The incredibly beautiful mother cat jumped up onto a stone wall in her attempt to escape the sexually aroused male and in the process dropped the kitten. She jumped down off of the wall, grabbed the kitten, and then jumped up onto the wall, again dropping the tiny kitten. The third time this happened, Jeff and Susan intervened and grabbed the kitten. The kitten was around 5 days old because his eyes were not yet open.

They took the kitten home and bottle fed him and cared for him around the clock. As the kitten grew, the 5 females hated him. The eldest of the 5, nicknamed MOB for Miserable Old Bitch, had a particular hatred of the kitten and was sometimes caught in the act of pounding the daylights out of him. After several weeks, it became clear, despite Jeff and Susan’s very best efforts, it was not going to work. The girls had won.

Jeff’s heart was broken because he knew this kitten would turn into a once in a lifetime cat. With much sadness, but wanting to do what was best for the kitten and not for himself, he contacted The Translator. Jeff knew there was an open space in the home of The Translator because of the untimely death of 3 felines in 14 months in her house.

So, without running it by The Mister first, The Translator simply brought the kitten home on July 2, 2002 and let the chips fall where they may. It wasn’t love at first sight for The Mister when he saw the kitten, but I think it is safe to say it was love at second site.

That kitten was given the name Perry. Since the day Perry came to live in the cottage by the sea, he follows The Mister around like a dog, wants to help with every project The Mister tries to do, and, pretty much, adores The Mister.

Jeff was right. Perry is a once in a lifetime cat.

Here are some of my favorite baby pictures of Perry. Enjoy.

Amazing Miss Grace Weeps

Today, I planned on discussing a number of fascinating topics. But all that changed when I heard the news.

If you have been following my brilliant musings, you know I have had much to say about firefighters, most recently on June 13 of this year as we watched the Hathaway Fire burn off in the distance.

But, today, it was like a knife straight into my heart when I heard the news of the death of the nineteen (19) Elite Firefighters in the wilds of Arizona.

Who are these people?!!! When most people can barely withstand office politics, who are these incredible, amazing humans who willingly lay their life down for their fellow peeps?

It boggles my mind.

Can you imagine what went through their minds as the fire closed in on them and they realized their life on this planet was ending? Can you imagine their thoughts as they pulled their “fireproof” shelters around them in the last seconds of their lives, knowing it was to no avail? Can you imagine their thoughts as they faced the most horrible form of death possible, a death so excruciating it has been banned as a form of execution by every modern state in the world?

Can you imagine the excruciating pain felt by their beloved families when they learned their worst possible fear had been realized?

Today, I weep for those 19 souls and their families. I thank them for making the ultimate sacrifice. I thank their families for making the ultimate sacrifice. Although I never knew any of them, I will never, never, never, never forget them.

May they be carried by the wings of angels to their eternal home wherein lies an exquisite expanse just for heroes

“Heroes are selfless people who perform extraordinary acts. The mark of heroes is not necessarily the result of their action, but what they are willing to do for others and for their chosen cause. Even if they fail, their determination lives on for others to follow. The glory lies not in the achievement, but in the sacrifice.” Susilo Bamband Yudhovono

Here is something beautiful to possibly ease, just a tiny, tiny bit, the pain of this moment. I believe with all my heart this beautiful, magical display is part of the motivation of those heroes we call firefighters. That is the beauty and mystery of life.

Thank you to the wonderful reader who brought this to my attention.

 

Amazing Miss Grace Streams Random Thoughts

Today we begin what is being called an “unprecedented heat wave” in the Southwestern U.S. of A. It will last through Monday night. There is a very creepy breeze coming straight from the east, the same direction as the Santa Ana winds. The sky looks very creepy.

The weather people warned people not to walk barefoot on the pavement because they will suffer significant burns on the bottom of their feet.

How do the outdoor critters survive when they have no shoes?

How do their little feet withstand such tremendous heat? Or do they?

Is this a foreshadowing of what is to come?

Will we cook and shrivel up in the west while the rest of the country has more rain than they can handle?

Have we already reached the tipping point?

Why doesn’t the Weather Channel ever talk about California?

Does weather begin in the midwest?

Have you ever seen one of these?

This is the biggest one I’ve seen so far. I hope I don’t see any ones that are any bigger since this one was close to 4 inches long.

Are you depressed?

I’m getting a lot of reports that people in the U.S. of A. are terribly depressed right now. Like heart palpitation, trouble breathing, collapse on the floor depressed. It’s very sad. It’s like it just keeps ratcheting up and up and up. As I discussed a while back, set up your Defensible Space.

As to Wendy Davis, how can anyone talk for 12 straight hours without taking a sip of water or availing themselves of the commode? I know medical doctors can go for a very long time without peeing, but they are taught that in medical school.

Did Strom Thurmond wear a diaper during his record setting filibuster against the Civil Rights Act of 1957?

Why are the filibuster rules so barbaric? What is wrong with this country?

Does God really like sports?

Does God really love the U.S. of A. more than any other country in the world? And if so, why?

Is there a way I can unzip my fur when it’s so hot?

 

Amazing Miss Grace Discusses Egypt

As a follow-up to my last post, I would like to address the common misconception that Hebrew slaves built the pyramids in Egypt.

In 1990, a rider on horseback discovered mud-brick tombs adjacent to the Pyramids of Giza. After years of investigation, it was announced in 2010 that these humble tombs were the final resting place of the Egyptian workers who built the pyramids over 4000 years ago. The announcement did not receive much media coverage.

It was Herodotus, the ancient Greek historian, who initially started the belief that Hebrew slaves built the pyramids of Egypt and this erroneous belief has remained widely held until today. Herodotus was not always right and, in fact, was often wrong in his assumptions.

http://news.discovery.com/history/ancient-egypt/pyramids-tombs-giza-egypt.htm

Further discoveries that have emerged over the years have revealed, that although it was not an easy life for the builders, they were treated with dignity, were well fed and received the best medical treatment available at the time.

If you would like to learn more about this fascinating time in human history, there is a wonderful 5 part documentary series entitled The Pyramid Code.

http://www.pyramidcode.com/

Dr. Carmen Boulter, former professor at the Graduate Division of Educational Research at the University of Calgary, shares her discoveries based on dozens of expeditions to Egypt and travels to more than 51 countries.  It is available for free on YouTube, Hulu, and Documentary Heaven. This documentary challenges the beliefs held for many years as to who built the pyramids, why they were built, and how they were built.

And here is a fascinating link about obelisks.

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/egypt/raising/world.html

 

 

From the Inbox of Amazing Miss Grace

I knew this was coming.

Today’s inquiry comes from my dear friend, Walter, in San Francisco. While Walter is an authority on history and all things mythological, he defers to me on matters in Egypt.

 

Dear Amazing Miss Grace,

Today in the news I see something that I am sure you are the only one who has the explanation of….a Museum Mystery!!!

http://www.geekosystem.com/mystery-of-the-spinning-statue/

Hope you are well.

Walter

Dear, Dear, Dear, Dear Walter,

Thank you for your kind inquiry. I saw this interesting video over the weekend. It was, however, from a British tabloid and some folks questioned its authenticity. I see it is now “all over the net.”

Interesting, to say the least. Here are my amazing thoughts on the matter.

Egypt has forgotten her roots. What seemed such a promising rebirth a couple years back has now degenerated to less than promising. Rampant extreme poverty and corruption is now plaguing her as it has done for many decades. Those things that were once considered sacred in that ancient land, including felines, have been forgotten, and some are even facing the possibility of demolition.

http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2012/jul/10/editorial-islamist-pyramid-scheme/

If it is not a simple vibration causing the statue to move, then, and what I am receiving via my universal connection is this, Egypt must return to her roots. She must return to her ancient, sacred roots that once made her the most advanced civilization in the world. As with all things, only time will tell if this is possible.

Fondly, and with love and purrs,

Amazing Miss Grace

 

Amazing Miss Grace and You

 

I am the only me who has ever existed.

You are the only you who has ever existed.

After I was made, they broke the mould.

After you were made, they broke the mould.

I have unique and amazing gifts that only I will ever possess.

You have unique and amazing gifts that only you will ever possess.

I am here for a very special reason.

You are here for a very special reason.

And as my dear friend, Edward, once said,

“To be nobody but

yourself in a world

which is doing its best day and night to make you like

everybody else means to fight the hardest battle

which any human being can fight and never stop fighting.”

Carpe diem.