Westlake Anniversary

While this was a major milestone anniversary — 45 years — we kept it low key as we’re celebrating this summer with a big trip, (more on that when it’s closer).

We went to Westlake, a quirky suburb just south of us, in Daly City.

We like to walk this neighborhood, admiring the unique mid-century homes…

Developed by Henry Doelger, Westlake is notable for its 1950’s architecture, created by a team of designers to encompass nearly every building in the development. While there are many unique homes like the ones above, the majority of homes are known for architectural blandness, exemplified by its endless rows of boxy houses, which were the inspiration for the folk song “Little Boxes” an anti-conformity anthem of the 1960’s.

You can see why ~~ here’s a photo (not mine) from the air.

There’s even a very cool book about the development.

Westlake is also home to one of our favorite restaurants ~~ Westlake Joe’s.

Opened since 1956, it went through an extensive renovation a few years back, which kept and enhanced the original style and mid-century feel.

It still has much of it’s original menu, known for steaks, classic Italian, and retro cocktails.

It seems most of the Bay Area flocks to Westlake Joe’s as reservations are almost impossible. So, we clean up, don our best duds and walk-in ~~ we’re never turned away.

Just take a look at the interior… classic bar, plush seating, even the old menu covers have been re-created.

The food is always great and yes, it’s expensive, what restaurant isn’t these days? For such a special occasion – we threw the budget out the window and enjoyed glasses of red wine, a nice perfectly cooked, small steak (me) and a huge plate of lasagna (Husband). We ended our meal with the best dessert I have ever eaten – really my absolute favorite. Warm butter cake – sigh.

So what does 45 years together feel like?

Well, it certainly doesn’t seem like 45 years ago we were this young and excited.

I’m laughing because Husband hurt his ring finger playing volleyball a few days before, and it was still sore. He winced and was in pain when I put his wedding ring on. Later, as we were formally posing for the photo above he said he hoped it wasn’t a warning.

Happy Anniversary to my cute Husband, partner, friend ~~ still making me laugh every day.

Our Town by Thornton Wilder

Every January I like to re-read the play Our Town.

I know, I know Our Town has a terrible reputation. Every high school has performed this play with often pathetic results. Please try to sweep those memories away and let me convince you to read, really read this play.

I believe it is some of the best writing out there – strong words you say, well stick with me here…

First published in 1938, it delivers a hauntingly real look at life….and death….and love. It takes place in Grover’s Corners a small New England town, actually based on a real town called Peterborough where Wilder often spent his summers and near where I lived in New Hampshire.

The three acts of this play are structured in a manner that encompasses the most basic features of human life: everyday living, love/marriage, and of course death. Much attention is usually paid to the third act of the play because it is here Wilder really closes in to make his point most obviously.

Yes, the third act is brilliant, and still chokes me up every time, but I like to linger in the first two acts – which are about the ordinariness of life — and it’s the ordinary that actually makes life extraordinary — just as it is. Mr. Wilder gently pushes this point, all life, any life, is special –and perhaps most of all, sharing this amazing life with others around you.

These subtle life observations give even greater rewards as one gets older, when time has passed and life has slapped you around – the words suddenly become heart achingly real and relevant.

Reading this little play always snaps me out of my post holiday blues (thus, why I re-read it in January) as I once again realize that what Mr. Wilder is urging – what we should, but seldom (or never) actually do.

I chuckled this time at this quote ~~ “We don’t have time to look at one another” ~~ if that was true in 1937, imagine how much more true it is today.

You may agree with the many critics who have charged Our Town with being overly sentimental and perhaps it is, but I don’t consider this a negative — we should be sentimental about the things we love.

Now, if I have you convinced to give it a try once again –every library has a copy and it’s very short.

Here are my favorite underlined passages:

Wherever you come near the human race there’s layers and layers of nonsense.

We all know that something is eternal. And it ain’t houses and it ain’t names, and it ain’t earth, and it ain’t even the stars… everybody knows in their bones that something is eternal, and that something has to do with human beings. All the greatest people ever lived have been telling us that for five thousand years and yet you’d be surprised how people are always losing hold of it. There’s something way down deep that’s eternal about every human being.

Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover’s Corners… Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking… and Mama’s sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths…and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful for anybody to realize you.

Yes, now you know. Now you know! That’s what it was to be alive. To move about in a cloud of ignorance; to go up and down trampling on the feelings of those…of those about you. To spend and waste time as though you had a million years. To be always at the mercy of one self-centered passion, or another. Now you know — that’s the happy existence you wanted to go back to. Ignorance and blindness.

Only it seems to me that once in your life before you die you ought to see a country where they don’t talk in English and don’t even want to.

Read Our Town and perhaps it will remind what a gift it is to be alive and you must, must pay attention — to everything.

NB: Our Town was recently recommended by Ann Patchett as good background for her new novel Tom Lake, which I haven’t read, but is getting great reviews. Many recommend the audio version narrated by Meryl Streep. I don’t get along very well with audio books, but that sounds like it might be worth a try.

New Year Thoughts – sort of

I had a hiccup in my holiday reading, two books I did not finish, two more proved good but just for me right now, but I have just now settled on one that is soothing, warm, and just right….more on that later, in the New Year.

I have mixed feelings about the New Year and so, I will enter it warily.

Always my same goals raise their persistent heads. Get more exercise, eat better, work on the garden, less computer time, clean out my clutter, be more creative, and, of course, read more.

But then I came across this on Facebook and I really liked it. I will still attempt my goals above, but this is worth reading thorough,

~ This year, dear friends, may we all lose weight!

The weight of expectations. The weight of self-criticism. The weight of disconnect that fills us with a deeper hunger. The weight of not always loving. The weight of a worn and weary world. Of not always accepting, seeing and inhabiting this precious and sacred body, that we’re in.

~ This year, dear friends, may we all exercise!

…our holy will! Our sacred sense of purpose. Our vision and hard-earned wisdom. Our discernment and our shining hearts. In ways that enrich connections, with our bodies, our souls and those we love. And even to the world.

~ This year, ah yes… may we all start the work of quitting…

…that collective Kool-Aid. The negative self-talk. The small-a**ed living. That cacophony of cockatoo-voices that drown out our souls. And old habits: Those used to stop us hearing our pain, our disappointments, and all things much better loved, seen and accepted right down to the very bottom ~ and to find true freedom, through a connection with our deepest souls.

~ This fine new year, (here’s the best…) May we all be rich!

Yes, utterly and completely rich. Wildly and unapologetically. Rich in love. Life. Connection with one another and all that really matters. Filled to the brim and bubbling over; more again and spilling over that. Full of laughter, acceptance, joy, and less of worry. Less of sorrow ~

Rich in renewed experience, of a whole new year!

by Rachel Alana (R.A Falconer) art | John Collier

To my dear Book Barmy family,

Happy New Year

Time for Home

I read this quote on a booksellers website and it just resonated with me

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.”  

quote from Christmas at Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons.

Isn’t that what the holidays are about? Being home – whatever home is for you – with loved ones, good friends, good food, and of course good books.

Next week is largely uninterrupted reading time, so in the meantime, I will share some of my favorite images for the holiday season.

I love this painting by Andrew Wyeth

Someone sent me this image in an e-card and it makes me smile.

Seeing the Christmas lights downtown.

Bookshops anytime, but especially during Christmas.

My little reading nook decorated for the holiday.

Some of my collection of Christmas books.

But in the end, being home is my favorite part of the holidays.

Wherever you are this season, wishing you warmth, peace, love and good books to read.

Mary Jeanne Fischer 1934 – 2023

My biggest fan has died – my book barmy mother passed away on July 24 — a day shy of her 89th birthday. Her last days were spent in a lovely hospice, peacefully, without pain and with my Dad and her children at her side – and for that we are grateful.

My mom was my biggest fan in all aspects of my life, whether it was my efforts to learn to ride a bike, struggles with high school algebra, cramming for my MBA finals, career woes, or just dealing with life – my Mom was always there for me.

She was the first to love me completely, to protect me, and to boast about me.

We agreed that we often had a difficult relationship. She and my dad had me when they were only 20. I often joked I was born 9 months and 15 minutes after they were married – pretty much true!.

So, not quite enough years between us to have a fully grown-up, mother-daughter relationship – as she, herself was still coming into her own. But we always had unbroken love and vast appreciation for each other.

My mom was a major influence in my love of books; she took me to get my first library card, and we went to the neighborhood library every week when I was growing up. She bought me Nancy Drew’s out of the grocery money, and let me read, and re-read, her copy of Little Women. We spent happy hours talking and arguing about books, and when together, we would seek out a bookshop or two (preferably used).

She loved this blog, and was my biggest fan, and enlisted followers among her book group and friends.

Not just an avid reader, my mother was an accomplished flutist, weaver, and knitter. She went back to school and got her college degree in her forties and then had a career as an accountant.

Next to my desk is the pile of books chosen and saved for her – I sent her books every month.

We laughed that she was the sole member of the Book Barmy of the Month Club.

There’s also a wrapped vintage collection of Anne of Green Gables found in a used bookshop on one of our travels and saved for her birthday – she would have loved them.

When I was back East, I picked up a book from Mom’s shelves which I had sent her, and she had saved the note I wrote for her in the book. Came home last week and picked up a book she sent me a few months ago and a similar such note from her was tucked inside – sigh.

Oh how I will miss my Book Barmy Mom ~~ this was one of our favorite quotes.

We had matching fridge magnets – and it still makes me smile.

In time, I will talk about her favorite books – she would have liked that.

Daisy Jones and the Six

Once again I found a screen adaptation better than the book. It rarely happens, so I must come clean that this is my second admission. The other was the PBS adaption of Magpie Murders.

When Daisy Jones and the Six first came out, an advanced reading copy was kindly sent to me by the publisher, but I never felt right attempting a review. You see, I barely plodded my way through half of the novel before tossing it aside. It later became a blockbuster bestseller and adapted into a TV series.

Guess we let you down here at Book Barmy. But let me explain

The premise was, and still is, intriguing — the making and wild success of an iconic rock band. In 1977, Daisy Jones & The Six were on top of the world; the band had risen from obscurity to fame, and then, after a sold-out show at Chicago’s Soldier Field, they called it quits. Now years later, the different band members and associates are being interviewed to finally uncover the true story of their experiences, and what went on behind the scenes.

But herein lies the problem, the story line is told through a series of interviews years after the band broke up and I really struggled with this format. I found it hard to keep the different characters straight through the interview format, and the different narratives were confusing. And these same characters never came to life even with their sex, drugs and rock and roll – it all fell flat for me.

I was a bit sad because 70’s rock and roll is the nostalgia of my high school and college years.

And yes, if all that sounds familiar, Daisy Jones and the Six is loosely based on Fleetwood Mac, with Daisy thinly disguised as Stevie Nicks.

____________________________________________________

I’d heard about the TV series and one evening I gave it a try – and I was immediately hooked – line and sinker. I was transported back to the 70’s – the clothes, the original music throughout, and the cast was finally interesting and sprung to life. (Fun fact, Daisy is played by Elvis’s grand daughter, Riley Keough).

There’s sex, of course, drugs, yes – but mostly it’s about creating music which doesn’t always resonate with the band, but become hits — all while the band struggles to elevate themselves from the cliché.

The main relationships are portrayed with gritty realism, the male lead struggles with sobriety, his wife wants her family back, and then there’s Daisy who wants fame:

I had absolutely no interest in being somebody else’s muse.
I am not a muse.
I am the somebody.
End of f*****g story.

This is not a consistently great series, some episodes are better than others. And many of the characters are unnecessarily portrayed as jerks, which is supposed to make them more authentic to the 70’s LA music scene, but actually makes them hard to care about. Daisy wears flowing dresses and dances in circles, actually making a caricature of Steve Nicks – which is distracting.

Overall, it’s a somewhat stereotypical drama involving a rock band which becomes more compelling as the members alternately work their way through fame, success, love triangles, drugs, alcohol and angst.

It’s like some of us are chasing after our nightmares the way other people chase dreams.

I watched every single episode and adored being back in the 70’s. The Daisy Jones and the Six TV series is very well-produced, the sets are spot-on realistic – and the music — well, it was my music.

What else can I say — I had fun.

Try it, maybe you will too.