Jazzy Memorial Day

Tranquil Ojai

Shangri La

Sometimes traveling a short distance is enough to create a seismic shift in perspective.

Driving a mere 80 miles north on the 101 to the Ojai Valley

was all Scotch and I needed to settle into a weekend of self-indulgent relaxation.

We had phenomenal accommodations overlooking orange groves

and the rising peaks of Los Padres Mountains.

Sunsets from this vantage point are a technicolor California fantasy.

Post dinner, the backyard veiled in darkness, big dipper clearly defined overhead,

we slipped into the hot tub and watched a golden crescent moon descend behind the mountains.

Rinse, lather, repeat.

Go Dodgers

A pink wash was cast over the hills surrounding Chavez Ravine,

as we watched the sun set from our perch in Dodger Stadium.

The unofficial start of summer has arrived.

One season blurs into another like a motion capture image of a speeding train.

In the foreground I remain in focus, present and clear, as the world around me is obscured.

Dietland Writers Room

Four months ago we assembled this gifted group of writers

to crack open season one of Dietland.

Their task began soon after the new President took office,

a confluence of events which wasn't lost on any of us.

May the powers that be green light us to the next stage

so we can bring Plum and the feminist uprising known as Jennifer to the small screen.

Frogtown

Sunday mornings are for indulging a deep desire

to lounge, laze, and loosen my grip on anything that must get accomplished.

After an obscenely idle forenoon,

Scotch and I seized the beautiful spring day

and strolled along the banks of the LA River in Frogtown.

Officially known as Elysian Valley, this is another area on the brink of a seismic gentrification boom.

The sound of rushing water was incongruent with the urban landscape, but

it tricked us into feeling like we wandering in a magical wooden glen.

Being Goofy

Artist Robin Bell

Go To The Theater

In the midst of the current investigation into Trump and pals, this story was told.
A distraught Trump walked up to the picture of George Washington and said,
"George, father of our country, I am in such turmoil what should I do?"
and the picture spoke to him and said, don't lie to the people.
He was very upset by this and got his entourage together and went to the Jefferson Memorial
and said to the statue of Jefferson, "Thomas, great patriot, and author of the
Declaration of Independence, please tell me what to do?"
And the statue spoke and said go to the people and tell the truth.
Finally, he went to the Lincoln Memorial and said,
"Honest Abe, the great emancipator, I am in such turmoil,
what should I do?"
And the statue of Lincoln looked down at him and said,
Go to the theater.

Another Year

Saturday night's Lord Jones and tequila indulgence didn't keep us off the trail this morning.

Celebrated 53 with Mad Whip and Mr. Mr. on a 7 mile trek.

Ojai, blooming with light purple thistle, was in all its glory.

As were we.

Swan

One of the most poised and graceful women I know turns 30 this month.

In her honor, Mad Whip and Mr. Mr hosted an elegant dinner party.

Even before the Brazilian feast was served, we started shaking and shimming our bodies

to the DJ's superb selections. 

After dinner, someone absent-mindedly made a wreath

 from the olive branches scattered on the table.

By evening's end all of our heads were crowned

 and I saw us for what we were: 

a gathering of goddesses, celebrating one we adore.

AVERTED!

The mad frenzy to get as much done as possible before the potential strike,

was coupled with inertia, a paralysis induced with not being able to plan for the next few months.

May is a busy time at Tiny Pyro land, and the potential halt of the machinery, 

has thankfully been averted.

Relieved!