MIDNIGHT AT THE OASIS – MARIA MULDAUR – Marilyn Armstrong

MIDNIGHT AT THE OASIS


Lyrics: Midnight at the Oasis

Sung by:  Maria Muldaur

Midnight at the oasis
Send your camel to bed
Shadows painting our faces
Traces of romance in our heads
Heaven’s holding a half-moon
Shining just for us
Let’s slip off to a sand dune, real soon
And kick up a little dust
Come on, Cactus is our friend
He’ll point out the way
Come on, till the evening ends
‘Til the evening ends
You don’t have to answer
There’s no need to speak
I’ll be your belly dancer, prancer
And you can be my sheik
I know your daddy’s a sultan
A nomad known to all
With fifty girls to attend him, they all send him
Jump at his beck and call
But you won’t need no harem, honey
When I’m by your side
And you won’t need no camel, no no
When I take you for a ride
Come on, Cactus is our friend
He’ll point out the way
Come on, till the evening ends
‘Til the evening ends
Midnight at the oasis
Send your camel to bed
Got shadows painting our faces
And traces of romance in our heads
Oh come on, oh come on
Woo hoo hoo, yeah, oh yeah
Oh oh, yeah, yeah

Songwriters: David Nichtern


In answer to “Whatever happened to Maria Muldaur”? I asked that many times, always wondering why her magical voice was never a big hit somewhere.

Her first — only — album was brilliant. She had such a wonderful, flexible, joyous voice … yet after that album, she essentially seemed to vanish from the music scene. It wasn’t lack of talent (obviously) and surely, with the numbers she racked up with her album, she had more than enough offers to do more.

The answer was simpler than I expected and I think it offers a good example of what “performing” means — both to those who make it “big” and those who say “no, thanks.” There are more who say “no” than you might expect.

She did continue to perform, both on her own and with the Grateful Dead and other groups. Solo performance wasn’t her favorite thing. She enjoyed writing songs, singing songs, singing backup with other groups and singers, but performing solo wasn’t “her.”

I asked a few people who knew her personally what happened and the answers were always the same. She wasn’t a driven performer. She loved music and singing, but she didn’t have the passion for fame.

She had a long career. I don’t know if she still performs. but she would be 80 now, so she may have retired. She was around and with us for all these years, but rarely as lead singer. She did not seek it.

Not everyone wants to be a star. Even when you can do it, it doesn’t mean you really want it. For all of us who are good at something but do not compete, the ability and the drive don’t always come as a pair.

“Midnight at the Oasis” was her big number and from a listener’s point of view, I wish she had done more. But I understand — because I don’t like performing either.

BEAM ME SOMEWHERE! – Marilyn Armstrong

As airlines make traveling by air increasingly miserable, unfriendly, and physically uncomfortable, those of us who yearn to travel but abhor airports and airplanes have been waiting for teleportation.

You know. “Scotty, beam me up” and off you go to another place. It might be earth. It might be an outer planet in another galaxy. It might be … well … the bar in Star Wars of that cool one in Second Generation! Who the hell knows? And who really cares?

Although I foresee a limit on luggage, I’m sure I could work with that. They are making gigantic strides in travel clothing every day!

Warning, though. This is one of the many things we won’t be able to do unless we vote very Blue this November and remove the Orange Menace from the White House. Anyone who feels we need a wall at the Mexican border isn’t going to allow teleportation for just anyone from anywhere to anywhere else.

Certainly, I can’t imagine his nibs allowing ALIENS beaming into the land of the free and the home of the cringing, whining, terrified white people who voted for Orange Peel. If you think brown, red, yellow, or beige people whose native language isn’t English are out to get you, what will you do with a creature with tentacles who loves drinking grout cleaner?

What a bunch of dumbasses. We could own the universe, but instead, we prefer being locked up behind our own walls lest we feel potentially threatened by people who are different than us. And mind you, there is really not a bit of difference between us and the other colors and styles of people. We are all exactly the same, genetically.

Obviously, there are individual differences. Smarter, dumber, more creative, more athletic, totally clumsy — but nothing that you won’t see in any group of people who all have the same coloring or background. Skin and its variations have no effect on intelligence or ability to understand the meaning of the universe.

You know that, right? Nor does not speaking English. Mr. Nobel was Swedish. He didn’t speak American. Einstein was an immigrant. Sam Adams made beer and fomented revolution … and I’m not sure where he was from. Ireland? Scotland? England? Germany? The whole world? And anyway, we are all from Africa because that’s where humanity began. Check it out.

But wait! Orange Gecko won’t be in charge forever! He’s too old! Unless we’ve also invented the no-aging device, he’s going to bite the big one just like the rest of us.

Get those transporter beams revved up. I’m ready!

Let’s open up the world while I’m can still enjoy it. We will take our elderly tricycles and electric wheelchairs with us. Surely they have sidewalks on Betelgeuse.

Let’s transform our cellular material and go with the flow. You ready? I’m definitely ready!

For today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt of Teleport.

CONTACT FROM TWITTER – Marilyn Armstrong

RDP #70 – CONTACT


You might want to read this.

No, the prez didn’t put me on his list. Not the contact list or the “kill her before she writes something else” list. I’m not sure there really IS such a list, but I wouldn’t be surprised.

Instead, I got this note from Twitter. So now, if you want your stuff to show up on Facebook, it’s going to be entirely cut and paste. Mind you, that’s not all that difficult or time-consuming. It’s the way I did it for at least four years of blogging. It’s just one more thing to bug me.

It has been a very buggy sort of week and keeping my mind right has not been easy. I feel like the world — the entire corporate entity we call the world — is out to get me on some level or other.

Maybe I should reconsider Instagram.


Twitter
Posting Tweets to Facebook
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Thanks,
Twitter


So there you have it.

I’m not really sure what the point of all of this is unless it’s yet another outcome of how much the various social media outlets dislike each other and don’t give a fig about us.

These corporations are always telling us how much we matter, but I’ve never seen anything which proves that they care about us at all, one way or the other. All they want is money. More and more of it. And, apparently, it doesn’t matter how much because there’s no limit to how much they will try and squeeze out of us.

If I could think of any other way to publicize the blog, I’d do it. Unfortunately, I can’t.

Twitter made contact.

Golly, what a pleasure to hear from them!

REJUVENATION AND THE FINAL ORCHID – Marilyn Armstrong

RDP #24 -REJUVENATE

Two of four
Getting the color right is the hardest part. The petals are so translucent, they pick up any other strong color nearby.

We were away for a few days. Three, arriving home late on that final day. It would have been earlier but it was Friday and it was rush hour and the first weekend of summer. Everybody was on the road and it was a slow road home.

All four!
Three of four

But for all that, it was good getting home. It was good because all the flowers were blooming like crazy and, this morning, my fourth orchid opened up.

Four orchids, all in a row
It’s a duplicate with a small tone change. Using more red to catch the purple heart in the flower.

This was the last bud, so I assume this will be the final flower of this set. I’m sure no one is surprised I took a lot of pictures.  All of these are macros.

Will these rejuvenate again next spring? I hope so. I was just delighted that they bloomed. After the long, hard winter, this was such a wonderful surprise!

RDP #23 – I HAVE A HEART — Marilyn Armstrong

RDP #23 –  HEART

I have a heart.

Everyone (living) has one. These days, the issue is whether or not it works like it ought to. You know, compassion. Caring, love, concern. That stuff.

Mine is a little more complicated. I have two replaced heart valves – mitral and aortic. I also had a myocardectomy involving removing an oversized muscle in the left ventricle which had grown exponentially because the mitral valve wasn’t working. There was also a bypass and implanting a pacemaker.

A fantastic amazing wonderful heart surgeon.

After they opened my chest, it never properly healed. This has made full-scale recovery difficult. There’s nothing that can make the chest heal if it doesn’t want to.

Sometimes, injuries don’t heal. They should, but for some reason, don’t. The medical team will tell you it will, but it depends on your body’s ability to recreate cartilage. Your chest isn’t solid. It’s a mobile design so you can breathe.

Until my chest didn’t heal, I had no idea how many different parts of my body were connected to my chest.

I didn’t know there was anything wrong with my heart except for that annoying murmur I’d had since I was a child. I knew I was out of breath often, but I was still recovering from a recent bi-lateral mastectomy (cancer), so I wasn’t at my peak. Whatever my peak might be. I’m not sure I’ve been at a peak for years. Like maybe 15? Or maybe never?

Note the dog hair. It makes it “smell right” …

Anyway, they told me that after all this repair work was done, I would feel MUCH better. Except my heart wasn’t bothering me. It’s my back that really kills me.

Four years later, I feel better. I’m 7 years past cancer and almost four years post heart surgery and I’m gradually becoming human. Unfortunately, I’m also 7 years older which, at my age, is a not an inconsiderable difference. You don’t bounce back from surgery the way you did when you were younger.

Nonetheless, I am better. I haven’t been sick except for a cold and a stomach virus and they only lasted a few days. What’s left is a woman with a badly damaged spine, a seriously screwed up digestive system, two fake breasts, and a redesigned heart.

As for the digestion, acid reflux, left untended for a lifetime, can make a mess of your innards. If you have a reflux problem, you might want to deal with it before it deals with you.

Now, speaking of my heart, I have one. No small miracle, that. My pacemaker is metal, so I can’t have an MRI … which for some reason the medical staff of my local hospital refuses to believe, even though it’s not as if I have a reason to lie about it.

Also, to go with the spine, I have fibromyalgia. Spinal arthritis (there was a surgery involved there, too) is bad and fibromyalgia goes with serious arthritis like the horse goes before the cart.  I deal with it. I deal with everything. There’s so much to deal with sometimes, I wonder how I find time to deal with anything else.

Weirdly, you get used to it. Impossible though it seems, you learn when you are going to have a bad day. On those days, you rest. Listen to audiobooks or read. Process photographs. You do not go for long walks or explore the wilds.

I also understand that even had I not had such a long run of ill-health, I would be getting on in years, so I’d be dealing with something. It’s just one of those things. A few people enjoy brilliant health from birth to the end. Others of us? Not so much.

For all that, I do feel better. I can walk. I have some kind of MS that mostly affects my eyes but is in remission. I don’t seem to have any sign of renewed cancer. I had it twice so I’m hoping that was all of it.

There’s not much more they can do to my heart except change the battery in the pacemaker and no surgeon wants to do anything to my back. As long as I can walk, no one will touch it.

I have a heart. It works. It’s extraordinary what they can do to fix us these days.

Absolutely astonishing.