Now, some people believe that April is the cruelest month of the year. Why you may ask? For some the reason is April 15, and I get why some people may feel disdain for the U.S. tax day. And there are some folks who don’t care for the drizzly April showers that bring the May flowers. (Most Californians will welcome rain any month of the year: Heard about our severe drought, baby?) And some furry folks actually believe it’s the Cruella -as in DeVille- month of the year. (I’ve heard she has at least 101 Dalmatians with massive overbite.) Perhaps it’s the annual spring cleaning they don’t want to deal with. Who knows? Who does it?
However, I just don’t get why April is considered the cruelest month: Helloooo, spring! Far-out flowers for my hair, flowers everywhere! Even with the drought! Warm weather is also on the horizon, discounting a thick San Francisco fog. Just take your heavy sweater, man. (Don’t leave home without it, OK?) The weather can be sort of, kind of cruel, yet not quite Yule.
But to my mind, September is the cruelest month of the year. Why you may ask? The long school year begins again for many students, and summer fun, fun, fun officially ends. What kind of “Welcome to September” is that? I’m so out of school now and on a kind of unofficial vaycay. (Yay, no homework…just housework) None the less, my inner child endures some serious childhood pangs every September. Summer childhood memories MUST be encoded in our DNA. Oh, and even the days get shorter which means less daylight to enjoy sweeping up all the leaves that have fallen from the neighbor’s trees onto your lawn. (Believe that and I’ll make up another one.) I can’t even afford to purchase a new fall wardrobe to ward off the cooler temps for my doggy diva and moi.
Waaaaz up with that?
Somehow, I managed to experience a totally unexpected September surprise. Whoa, did I ever! The grooviest thing was that it was a BEATLES surprise! Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah! Heard of Ron Howard? This former child actor is the big-time Hollywood film producer behind the new Beatles documentary “Eight Days a Week, The Touring Years.” OMG, that’s OM my gosh, if George Harrison, a Hindu devotee, was still on the planet, he might have been preferred a Bollywood production. Well, whatever. I fortunately saw a spot on telly advertising this not-to-be missed documentary and I told the hubby I HAD to be there or else! Come on, he could not refuse.
Off we went to a Friday matinee in sunny San Francisco –limited showings for this flick- and that was a way bad idea. The Parking Angel is useless in traffic jams. It’s not her job. I’m talking about a Friday afternoon jam that was unbelievable, folks. It was a real bummer. I arrived at the theatre rather frazzled but totally glammed in my Beatles attire. Thankfully, our seats were reserved, and in no time at all I began singing along with these English lads just like it was still the 60’s. My hubby could not believe I knew the words to all of their songs. But like I said before, our fab and groovy memories of youth MUST be encoded in our DNA. Everything has gotta be SOMEWHERE.
(They’re probably in there with all those old fat calories I thought I let go of!! SO many vats of luscious lasagna with extra grated cheese still reside there, I bet.)
The very next day we were off to a now annual event in beautiful Downtown Berkeley: I’m talkin’ bout a groovy gathering for Deadheads known as “Shakedown Street.” It’s a 2 day event, but we like to go on the first day of this fab Festival. The crowds-and parking- are far easier to navigate. We have a go-to parking space…um, the hubby refuses to disclose this primo place. He will not reveal it, even if you make a fuss over his Terrapin Topper. Oh, and people do.
Speaking of Primo we found him dancing (what else?) in a primo location at the event. His partner Margie was not in attendance, but other expected Deadheads were also missing-in-action. And missing THE action! Lots of colorful attendees were present and feeling the pure joy of being at a free, that’s a free rock event, which is something of a rarity in the Bay Area these days. And its TWO days, man. Can you dig it? I certainly did. It looked and sounded like everyone was having some big fun. As I’ve said before, Deadheads know how to celebrate, man.
To the folks we did not get to see: bummer. Hope we see ya soon. We did get to see trippin’ Robert and Charmaine, talented partners in tie-dye. Google Psychedelic Clothesline. Fun folks they are. They do some amazing tie-dyes, and you would be a total scene-stealer while adorned in their funky threads. We also came upon –like you could miss her- a fun woman dressed as a pink clown and doing creative balloon sculptures for kids of all ages. I get her name confused as I usually only see her at the Telegraph Avenue Holiday Street Fair. Look for her at this event. You won’t miss her either.
Rosie Colleen wants you to know that she is considering opening her Doggie Diva tail-wagging cleaning service next April! All you folks who refused to do your spring cleaning rejoice. She will even entertain all offers for possible franchises. But you must promise to throw her lots of bones. T-bones are preferred. You can throw me some tofu for the service I supply every month, OK? That’s CHOCOLATE –covered tofu. Yuck, forget the tofu and toss me bars of chocolate, man.
Peace, love, Beatles joy, laughter & everything Grateful Dead, man,