YOU BELONG TO ME – GARRY ARMSTRONG

I guess it happens to all of us. You’re asleep, deep in a peaceful dream, when you hear the music. You start humming and can’t stop as the words rearrange themselves. You’re half awake as the song continues on a loop.

See the pyramids along the Nile 
Watch the sunrise on a tropic isle 
Just remember darling, all the while 
You belong to me.

Images form in my subconscious. It’s the 50’s again and Jo Stafford is singing.

See the marketplace in old Algiers 
Send me photographs and souvenirs 
Just remember, darling, when a dream appears 
You belong to me.

I’m listening to WNEW-AM,  Frank Sinatra’s favorite radio station in New York City. They play all the great standards from the 30’s, 40’s and early 50’s. It’s “The Make Believe Ballroom with Martin Bloch”.  I turn up the volume a bit as Jo Stafford continues.

I’ll be so alone without you 
Maybe you’ll be lonesome too, and blue

I see grainy black and white images of Snookie Lanson and Dorothy Collins — a folksy duet — on “Your Hits Of The Week.” It’s the show that followed Sid Caesar’s “Your Show of Shows,” 10:3o, Saturday night on WNBC-TV, channel 4 in New York.

That was one of our two “stay up late nights” during those long ago years. Snooky Lanson, Dorothy Collins, Giselle MacKenzie and Russell Arms sang the top “tin pan alley” hits of the week in countdown fashion. In-between, there would be a “Lucky Strike extra,” an unknown song being promoted by the sponsor, Lucky Strike Cigarettes. The “Hits of the Week” singers were nice, but merely pale imitations of the star vocalists of the day. Jo Stafford, Teresa Brewer, Rosemary Clooney, Tony Bennett, Guy Mitchell, Doris Day, Sinatra, and so on. When Elvis hit the scene, the “Hits” cast looked downright foolish trying to warble songs like “Hound Dog” and “Jailhouse Rock.”

But I digress. Jo Stafford is still singing in my head.

Fly the ocean in a silver plane
See the jungle when it’s wet with rain 
Just remember, till you’re home again 
Or I come to you
You belong to me!

I can’t shake the song. Jo Stafford sings louder and louder til I finally awake. I stumble out to the kitchen where our scrappy Scotties, Bonnie and Gibbs, are barking for breakfast biscuits.

I belong to them.

 

VIDEO WARS AND VIDEO WORK – TOM CURLEY

I just got a new video game, Mass Effect: Andromeda.

masseffect.com

It is the latest in a series that has been out for years. It’s a great series. Literally millions of copies have been sold. It’s what is called an “open world” game. You can go pretty much anywhere you want. You pick up “missions”. They are things you have to do to advance the game’s story.

There are prime missions that take a long time and advance the plot of the game and then there are secondary missions. And then there are tasks. The secondary missions involve all sorts of different things that you have to do. Some to help a team-mate.

Some to acquire something that is needed to do something else. Tasks are something you can do quickly or you can do throughout the game as you travel from place to place.

In this game, you are the leader of an away team for a group of human and alien colonists who have spent the last 600 years traveling from the Milky Way Galaxy to the Andromeda Galaxy.

You have to find planets to live on while trying not to get killed by various hostile aliens and humans. You interact with hundreds of folks who all want you to do something. You can say no and refuse a mission, but you don’t. That’s why you bought the game. But after a while, it gets really confusing. You start off to do a certain mission that involves going to the planet Kadara to meet a spy of the Collective Alliance.

But you have to walk through the space port to meet him. On the way there you bump into an alien who has a problem only you can solve.

ME: What can I do to help?

ALIEN WHO NEEDS SOMETHING ONLY YOU CAN DO: Oh please. I don’t know what to do. I used the last of my credits at the “Uniform Replicating and Dry Cleaning Shop” to get this stain out of my uniform. In my culture, a stain brings us great shame.

“Only you can help me!”

ME: So what’s the problem?

AWNSOYCD: The stain didn’t come out and the owner will not refund my credits. Please help me.

So I walk over to the shop and tell the owner to give the lady her credits back.

ME: Hey! Give the lady her credits back!

“F$#K you!

OWNER: No. Fuck you!

(Yeah they swear a lot.) I have to walk over and punch him in the face.

OWNER: OWW! Hey, OK, fine. Here’s her credits.

I have to walk back to where the alien lady is to give her money back.

Here’s your roll of quarters. Next time try a little Club Soda.

Great. Now, why was I here to begin with? Oh yeah, meet with the spy from the collective. That’s when I realize he’s on the other side of the planet. I also see there are five different missions happening in this marketplace.

Crap. I’ve got over a half-dozen things to do here.

So I get sidetracked. Again. And again. And again. I finally get back to the original reason I came and realize I’m on the wrong goddamn planet!

I’m in the wrong damn solar system!

I am only — maybe 30 percent — done with this game and have over 50 missions to finish. Then, it hits me. What the hell am I doing? I’m supposed to be saving the galaxy and I just spent 10 minutes mugging a laundromat owner for basically a roll of quarters. And I’m on the wrong frigging planet!

And why am I the only person in this galaxy that can get anything done!!! Let’s all pitch in!  OK folks!

Also, I can go on-line and do these hundreds of chores with millions of other folks. What’s wrong with me?  I didn’t work this hard when I was working! I’d say more but I just got an email in my game.

The lost Turian Ark may have been found in an unknown system! Gotta go!

Turian Ark

I think there’s an Assari on that ark to whom I’m supposed to deliver a recipe to for Assari strudel that I got from her mother. I’ll do it on my way back.

THE MAZE OF AGE

Growing up and getting old are not the same thing. You’ve probably noticed.

We went to the eye doctor yesterday. Eye exams for both of us and amazingly, neither of us needed new glasses. What a relief! I did need new computer glasses and Lenscrafters was having a fabulous sale — a complete pair in an hour for $99. The ones I’ve been wearing have gotten scratched, which after three years was probably inevitable.

While I was talking about eyes and glasses, the eye doctor wanted to know what Garry does to stay so young. He was very impressed. “Does he have a workout routine or something,” he asked.

“He was a Marine,” I said, “And he has always taken good care of his body. Better these days now that he doesn’t drink or eat junk food.”

“Well, I get a lot of people his age in here and they are old. He looks great.”

Garry does look great, even if he doesn’t always feel as good as he looks. This weather is hard on his arthritis, as it is on mine. Garry told me he doesn’t feel old. Yes, of course, he complains about aches and pains, but he doesn’t “feel old.” Whatever that means. I said neither do I. My body has its own agenda and I have to deal with it, but it’s not something I’d choose. The body is separate and it has issues, but my mind isn’t old. A little forgetful, but otherwise, pretty good. Mostly.

What does “old” feel like? Not whether or not you get Social Security or have grand children. How does it feel? How do you know you’ve made it? I was first told it would be when I had children, but my son is heading towards his own lack of maturity. Does this stuff run in families?

Thus we got to talking about the people we know. Who is “old.” Who isn’t.

In our age group, we know some old people, including a few who seem to have been caught in a generational time warp. They aren’t old exactly, but they aren’t living in today’s world, either and no it isn’t dementia. They just loved the sixties so much, they never emerged. I sometimes think I should have done the same, but I digress.

Other people we know have always been old. They were born with an “old” gene. And the rest of us don’t feel like we’ve made it into adulthood. Are “adulthood” and “adultery” variations on one bizarre word?

Personally, I was sure by the time my granddaughter was breaching 21 and Garry and I were getting Social Security, this was as mature as we will get — and I suspect I was right. Apparently feeling grown up is not a “calendar” factor. More like a maze in which you wander twisting hallways. Some roam down “old” halls, others not.

It is interesting, this “getting old” thing. Your body goes its own way. Your mind travels differently. Even when my physical self feels like road kill, my brain is ready to go. That my body won’t do what I want presents me with a conflict I cannot resolve. I’m sure this is something every one of every age deals with if they are disabled. You deal with it. Learn to recognize what you can and cannot do, but you never get used to it.

I have rebellious days, even now, though fewer as time goes on. Is that maturity? Thank God for computers! At least here, I can fly.

NEARING ALPHABET’S END: YOU AND VEE!

Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: Letters U or V


Underneath the overpass
Uxbridge Unitarian Church