Terrifically Haunted fun for all. Another Halloween under our belts. Big thanks to Nicole and Julie for helping save the day. To Scott and Josh, candy professionals with nerves of steel. To Steve and Mitch for your hands on help. To Jim for fantasitc photo attention and being brave around both the young and old. Most important, to Micheal, whom without his patience and hard work, Halloween would never be.
iPhotos generously provided by Jim McGill of photo444.com
A recent road trip, originally planned for San Fransisco, made a quick detour east to Silver City, New Mexico. Rain was in the forecast…and rain…well… my camera (and my hair) have issues with it. Once you enter the California dessert and go on into Arizona, the music changes along with the food and the people. Lucerno is on the radio, sleeping hound dogs are found in convenience stores and snake-skin boots make their entrance. At one stop, a Motel 8, Mike inquired if there were flat screen TV’s in the rooms. The gentleman, not in on the joke, stared first…then got it with a guffaw. He and his bride were recent transplants from Minnesota and, not missing the snow, were settling into the heat nicely. The next morning, we realized we were staying at “truck stop heaven” and I found the most amazing flag-draped truck in the back lot. I wasn’t alone.
We set out again, going through old towns, in search of places of interest. We turned off at Bowie to see the old mining fort. The town itself was desolate, except on the outskirts, where it seems pecans and pistachios are grown in abundance. I saw horses walking freely between farms without fences…although they took one look at my ready camera and turned their big arses towards me. I didn’t take it personal… I don’t like having my own photo taken.
Once we stopped at the end of a long and winding dirt road, we encountered the sign that said “a gentle 1-1/2 mile walked with good trail”... People, if you EVER see a sign with those words, get the hell back in your car and drive away…fast. We started down the “gentle” trail, and about a mile into it, I had an asthma attack. I think God (or my Father in his angel form) sent the deer in just to check on me.
We made it as far as the old cemetary where a soldier had received the Medal of Honor and a small child (Geronimo’s son) had been laid to rest. From there, you could see the fort with the flag blowing gently…taunting… straight up the side of a rather large hill. I gave Mike the nod and we went back before I myself was laid to rest. To add insult, while driving out, we noticed a sign previously missed coming in. It was the handicapped entrance and apparently you could drive straight there…
When we reached Silver City, my first impression was “Haight Asbury meets Wyoming”. I had never seen so many old hippies together in one place…except maybe in that old Woodstock movie. Later (inside an antique store) my observation was confirmed on a tee-shirt…“Where all hippies go”. Beyond the hippies, I saw cowboys going about their business, even a few kids standing up on hay and one gentleman having a conversation with a cinder-block fence. In my estimation, he appeared to winning, but that block wall was holding pretty firm.
We stayed at the oldest hotel in the town…a place called The Palace. You had to park wherever you could and the curbs (I swear) were 24 inches high. Once parked, if you were too close to the curb, you couldn’t get your car door open for love or money. I made sure I didn’t need to get back in before I made the big step up. I went inside to inquire about a room and was followed in by an older, sprightly couple from Derbyshire, England. I’d been there in my travels (Pride and Prejudice ya know) and we made an instant connection. We waited, while hearing strange sounds coming from what appeared to be the adjacent bar, trying to keep up a normal conversation. The hotel lady finally came in and gave us several keys to check out the available rooms on our own, explaining she was very busy trying to get a pigeon out of the bar. I wanted to ask her if the bird needed help with his tab, but stopped myself, aware that this might be these folks first visit to the states. At least we now knew what all the yelling was and it seemed a somewhat reasonable explanation.
Her Majesty’s loyal subjects and I mounted the stairs and explored (and of course commented on) each of the room selections. The place was built in the mid 1800’s, all moldings and narrow hallways, and it certainly had its charm. Being the polite American I am, I let them have first pick of the three available and naturally… they picked my only choice. When we went downstairs, apparently the bird had been liberated and the lady had recruited the balance of her faculties, saying “Oh, there’s another room”! “Thank God” I whispered, not wanting to be next to the breakfast area, I leaped up the stairs with the key. It was perfect with beautiful natural light, a window view up the street and at the very end of the hall and cheap!
Room reserved, camera in hand, we marched out onto the unsuspecting streets. We met up with a hippie Santa trying to give out candy canes but I feel certain his normal day job is growing medicinal marijuana. There were interesting folks all up and down the streets…even a cowboy selling his prize farm beef from cooler chests…and thankfully none were camera-shy. We passed up a young girl with a sign that said she was giving out “good advise”. She looked about 20 so I was fairly certain about the decision to pass. I have a cat about that age so I thought I’d save money and just have a chat with Avree when I got home. We visited one new gallery that was hard to miss because the sidewalk was painted with colorful big round dots that said “Follow me”. Naturally I wanted to. After walking a bit more, tummies were growling, so we stopped at a restaurant that said “cafe”on a neon sign. I love Mexican food but I’d had it 4 meals in a row and decided I just wanted an ordinary sandwich. I ordered an egg salad sandwich and that my friends…is exactly what I got…A fried egg on 2 slices of bead with a piece of lettuce on top. Literal took on a whole new meaning. Back outside, we noticed a sign hanging from a bridge. I shot it and it appears in an earlier story. I put it here again for those who missed it. I had to read it a few times before I understood it, but if you take the town tour, it all starts making sense.
Back at The Palace, I took my book down to the cozy lobby to read. Our room was a bit small…and what with the flat screen blaring…
Down in the lobby, I found a nice big burgundy velveteen chair with a matching footstool, and made myself at home with my book and a box of good n’ plenty. Just as things were getting good, some lady opened the door and went outside, leaving the door cracked open and all the freaking cold air coming in on me. I got up, shut it and resettled. She then came back in, placed a phone on a lamp table, put the door kickstand down and went back out. This went on a few times for the sake of her nicotine habit. Just before I strangled her to death (I’m pretty sure they still hang people there for crimes) I went back upstairs. I grabbed my coat and went to the coffee-house owned by the Palace… but not before giving her the stink eye.
I got settled in with a nice hot chai latte and big chocolate chip cookie. I had to tell the guy behind the counter what I would pay because there were no prices and he was new. Then the Harley guys started filing in. I wrote about them previously and it’s somewhere below here. I found them entertaining and friendly with their contagious holiday cheer as they dressed for the local childrens Christmas party. It was fun to watch them take off toward the school complete with a police escort.
After coffee, another trip down the streets, and some interesting window shopping. I’m not sure the connection between Elvis and Christmas, but he’d be proud to know he’s remembered in Silver City.
I had a chance, before preview, to take a few shots so the folks who can’t come…can see what makes up this years Halloween theme. This is esecially for Yumiko, an Artist from Anuvue Studio & Gallery, who had brain surgery and is at home recovering. High five and big hug Yumi!
This was a very “Green Friendly” year in that most everything is being recycled in some form. What the kids and adults see at night is created with blacklight paint, extremely minute details that they may never noticed,and a bit of mystery. Here’s a sneak peek in the daylight.
The entrance was made from recycled plywood, donated by our friend Gary, used previously for cement work. It was painted from the “not the right color” section of our local hardware store. I thought it was strange, every time I showed up, they had another can of practically the same color…I swear I have Halloween angels at work 😉
This is the view as you enter.
I simply could not resist these clear tubes… You are looking at command central, where the ship is controlled…and every kid in the neighborhood wants to fly. All the neato controls were gifted by my neighbor Greg who works for KOCE. The channel was clearing out allot of outdated gadgets…just in time for a spacecraft. The edging on the desk is actually the stuff they put along lawns… sprayed silver. I think it looks like metal and is very spacey. 😉
Do not touch signs are an absolute must bring the “touching” down to only “minimal madness”.
What a ship without a lab of bubbling jars with strange things. These aliens are cloning humans…with aliens. I love the doll heads so much, they are going in my house when this is over. They fit perfectly into the washing machine overflow tray I found 😉
Fred and Ethel diligently in their tubes…along with a new 2 headed offspring. All the dials are old hairspray, paint and misc. lids with dial stickers. Anything white glares in the blacklight so they look quite real. All the tubes are cardboard that’s been mitered and heck, there’s even some cookie trays and mac computer box inserts painted silver up there.
Tonight, after second preview night, I’ll take some shots so you can see the transformation at night. We had about 100 guests on Thursday night. One boy was so cute in his hotdog costume. I love bringing the kids in to see the candy and watch their frustration of how to pick just one. With all the do not touch signs, one little boy kept whining “Dad, I can’t touch anything…DADDDDDD, I can’t touch anything…finally I let him touch some of the keyboards on the center table with the baby heads. The next thing I know there are 5 little boys jumping up and down, all trying to all touch the keyboard, all shouting “I want to touch it” !
I asked my friend Jamie to be the “don’t touch” person in the room. She raised 2 kids and her costume has a sword…;)
Recently, a friend of a friend (thank you Dan) was introduced to me through the webwaves. I took a look at the work of Raina Colvin through her beautifully designed, totally clean and uncluttered website and found myself immediately ooohing and ahhhing. I thought I would share this talented woman’s gift with all of you, still keeping one foot in the art world, via virtual gallery.
I should let you know I did liberate her biography (heck people…it was already typed!) from her website and the questions came from Red Ravine. (ybonesy and QuoinMonkey are more “Steinbeck” and I tend to lean towards “Bombeck”). Now all I have to do is sit back, enjoy the mesmerizing quality of Raina’s work and delete any spam comments!
Anuvue Studio proudly welcomes the Fine Art of Raina Colvin.
Raina Carman was born in Gloucester, Massachusetts. Being three months old when her family moved to Southern California, Raina has spent the majority of her life in California. Her interest and skill as an artist was evident from the time she could hold a pencil. As a child Raina found great pleasure in drawing. It was an excellent way for her to learn about the world around her.
At twenty, Raina began her formal education in art at El Camino College. There she found a wonderful community of fellow students and artists eager to develop themselves and their art work. Through this community, Raina found work first as a children’s art instructor. Later she found work as color separator at Morrosstudio making limited edition serigraphs. The process of recreating another artist’s work and analyzing the colors to mix each one for printing was an invaluable experience. After three years, Raina left Morrosstudios to study with several private teachers and to explore her own approach to creating art. This began a time where painting outside in nature was Raina’s passion. The Santa Monica Mountains were a particularly favorite place to roam with her watercolors in her backpack.
In 1993, Raina moved from Redondo Beach to north county San Diego. Establishing her own studio Raina felt it was time to allow her art work to be her own. At this time Raina began to explore her inner landscape, working with mandalas as a template. As her art life developed Raina began a career in the healing arts as a massage therapist and soon began to teach massage at Healing Hands School of Holistic Health. Raina finds great reward and inspiration teaching massage. She feels very blessed to have the ability to paint, draw and express her art freely. Raina is now Raina Carman Colvin and lives with her husband and all their critters in Valley Center, surrounded and shaded by the many oaks that populate their home.
How long have you been painting?
I’ve been drawing ever since I can remember. I started painting in 1982 when I began studying at El Camino College.
1. Transformational Goddess
2. Fluidity
3. Full Breath
4. Radiating Heat
5. Dynamic Balance
6. Oceanids
Mandalas
How has your work evolved over time?
Drawing has always been a way from me to observe the world around me. Throughout my adolesence, drawing was the only way I was interested in expressing myself. As I began college my focus was drawing and painting, working from life. I spent a lot of time in the life drawing studio as well as outside painting plien air with watercolors. After I left college I went to work as a color seperator. This really helped move my understanding of color to a greater level. All the work I did was all by hand, separating the images to be printed and mixing each color. When I left my position as color seperator at Morrosstudios I was very prepared to explore my own vision. I began studying under Don Blaisdell’s in Topanga Canyon. With Don I focused on plein air landscape. This was when I finaly understood watercolor on a visceral level and began painting in ernest in the Santa Monica mountians. My next big leap occurred the following year when in took an “Artist Transformation” course with Linda Jacobson through UCLA extension. I had many eye-opening experiences in this class. I discovered a passion for working with mandalas. By painting mandalas I learned to tap into my subconscious, work with my inner conflicts and look at my internal processes. I began to divide my time working from life and with my inner landscapes.
Who are your influences?
My parents were and are strong individualists who taught me to think and act following my own sensibilities. My teachers at El Camino College and those who I sought out helped me with the mechanics of visual art. They guided me expand my bounderies and grow my understanding. Both my teachers and my life experiences have shaped who I am as a person and as an artist.
Oil Paintings
1. Family Nova
2. Malibu Flood 1
What living artist do you admire most?
I don’t really follow many living artists. I can only think of Alex Grey, Helen Nelson-Reed and Laurie Anderson. Most of the artist I admire are now dead.
What drives your art.
Creating art is the most successful way for me to make sense of the world. When idle I’m restless with a need to create. Art brings me peace. I feel satisfaction when I have communicated my intent. Art is what I use to understand myself and find deeper meanings of the connections that bring us together.
Landscape
1. Old Castle Ranch
What messages are in your art?
I hope to kindle a passion for life, encourage exploration of mysteries, expose how fear shapes our lives and the beauty that is everywhere.
Where do you go for inspiration?
I get inspiration from dreams and life experiences. Sometimes I explore themes like numbers, colors or ideas. Sometimes I just get a bug in my ear to do… whatever.
Innerscapes
1. Green Man
2. Dance of life
3. Three Graces
4. Mysteries of Birth
How old were you when you knew you wanted to be an artist?
As a child with dyslexia I found it painful to be anything else. It was an outlet for my passions and the only thing that earned me praise.
Where do the themes in your work come from?
I work from life because I have a passion for it. I love to commune with nature. I also love to see the underlying patterns that connect us all – numbers, symbols and events. I like to observe the similarities in my experiences of nature, human interaction and whatever else is happening in my life. I choose to be captivated by the magic that surrounds me and express it in my work.
To view more of Raina’s work, please visit her website
To purchase, please see her detailed price list for inventory still available.
Our thanks to Raina for allowing Anuvue to exhibit and share her work and inspiration!
Last weekend Micheal and I traveled up the 395 for the 99th Birthday celebration of Carroll Thomas… and especially to give him the portraits painted by the 818 Artists.
About 2 hours into the road trip there’s a place out in the middle of nowhere that suddenly opens up into a shopping center. You know…the kind of development where the new houses all look the same and are built right next to the road…even though there’s miles of land around. I can’t figured out why anyone would choose to live 10 feet from the highway…but hey, that’s me. I always laugh at the signs with the city name (which I forget) and the slogan “Land of Endless Possibilities”. The first two that come to mind are “heat stroke” and “dusty sandwiches”. Anyway, the destination has a Starbucks which normally means a clean restroom and a liquid snack… so it’s always the first stop.
I packed sandwiches but knew we would be arriving in Olancha for stop #2 and some of their famous fresh jerky. Mike loves the stuff. It’s housed in a old, rundown “used-to-be” gas station but I think it’s kinda charming in it’s own “stickered up” way. The person behind the counter always implores me to try a sample and though I gave up jerky when I gave up meat, I always show them a big, wistful smile while I say “no thank you”.
Next stop (when my liquid snack has been in me long enough) is about an hour farther on up at one of those highway rest stops. At this particular place the wind is usually blowing hard enough to make you walk bent over just to stay upright. It’s the last rest stop before Manzanar, the WWII Japanese Internment Camp so typically there are “history seeking lurkers” camped out on a picnic bench. On any normal trip, it’s me sharing the bathroom with one of them and a misguided squirrel looking for the exit. But on this Saturday, it was me and about 5 chartered buses, all full of Middle and High School teens. The line had already formed from the first bus of arrivals and I groaned very loudly as I got out of the car. I ran to get in front of the rapidly exiting, liquid overloaded, others in the parking lot. I snuck in the side less noticeable to the unobservant or unknowing traveler and found about 10 girls hugging their flat bellies. I heard a loud commotion… more a wailing sound… “I caaaaannnn’t fluuuush the toilet” and then another and another. Since no other adult (and I use the term loosely) was around, I took matters into my own hands…or rather…my feet. I went into one of the stalls and proceeded to show them that with a little patience and tenacity, the wall foot pedal would oblige… and the problem would be taken care of. I proudly heard the wooooshes going off as the intervals of understanding came into their young minds. I left with my head a little higher and the invisible “Flush Master” cape on my back. Some even waved good-bye!
Next stop, Lone Pine…the small town Ansel Adams hung around, taking photgraphs in his early years along with the Japanese Interment Camp. His Lone Pine photograph is one I always remember because he had to stipple out the big “LP” the High School kids carved into the side of the snow capped Sierras. If you ever happen to see it, look closely and sure enough, you’ll see the finely dotted letters. Lone Pine is a beautiful little town of about 1800 folks…most fisherman and hunters. I love it there and they have some really good eats! Might make a great place to retire.
Manzanar is after Lone Pine, a place I’ve sadly driven through many times… and then comes Carroll’s town, Big Pine. Now Big Pine is home to about 1200 people who wave at your car when you drive down through their homes. Yes, they have tract homes…kinda. They also have a beautiful park where the town folk walk their dogs (and kids) and they have antiques, art and weird, cool places. The people are super friendly, many being transplants from another place, like Carroll himself. At each shop I went in, I mentioned I was in town for Carroll’s Birthday. They all knew and loved him but I never got the feeling (like you get from some of the smaller towns) that there were any nosy rosies. This town minds it’s own business, probably because many are transplants, hoping for a quieter life in a beautiful place. I think they lucked out and found it! Another cool place to retire.
After walking the town, we went to Carroll’s Gallery and Helen, his girlfriend of 32 years, with long silver hair and a smile of indeterminably age, greeted us at the door. I told her we were “The People from Huntington Beach” and she lit up another grin. She went to the speaker that apparently connects to their home next door. She told Carroll we were here and he replied “I’ll be there in 10”. Sure enough, 10 minutes later, he emerged in western wear and a fancy bollo tie. Always loved bollo ties. I hadn’t see Carroll in 2 years and even then, it was only the one time, to stop in, chat and buy a painting. He looked exactly the same, maybe a bit thinner, but now sporting an air tube. Without any hesitation, he promptly blamed it on Helen, saying “She thinks she needs to keep me on a leash!”.
Now Helen was in on the surprise, but she hadn’t told Carroll the particulars, just that there was something he would enjoy. We had him sit in his rocker, handing him package by package, until finally he was rendered speechless and I’m betting, with his sharp dry wit, that doesn’t happen often. He looked up at me and said “There must be a place saved in Heaven for you… to go to all this trouble” which in turn, made me speechless. I told him “I’m merely the delivery girl” but I did present him with the photograph I took of him holding his own painting that now hangs in my living room.
He carefully read all the short bios telling him about each artist and I filled in what I could. I gave him posters from the show and told him all about the people that came. All I can say to Shiela, Jamie, Karen and Tak is that you made me a very proud women that day. Of all the things (the many great things) that happened in the short, sweet year my Gallery existed, this presentation to this wonderful man…was by far the best thing of all. Without your talent and effort, it would never have come to be. Thank you from both Carroll and myself.
From there, we were introduced to his Family, all wonderful, colorful people in their own right. His 2 sons donned the same exact “T” chin (which Carroll says is the Family trademark for Thomas). They both have the same wit as their Papa, but funny thing, he has all the hair.
Helen took me on a house tour where I saw many more originals in this talented man’s life work. Beautiful, flowing water colors, intricate oils, amazing, all amazing!
We left after the cake but I do remember Carroll telling me “The first 100 years is the hardest” and I guess he would know. He said he planned on living to 105 and that would be enough to make him content. From everything I saw, I do believe he’ll make it. He is an amazing character and one that I am so very privileged to call friend. If you ever travel on the 395 and you find yourself going through Big Pine…make the stop at the Thomas Gallery. His four new portraits now hang just inside the door along with a photograph… of he and I. 😉
Now I’m a firm believer that every gallery opening should have great work to show their guests. But, I’m proud to say Anuvue, in addition, offers our guests the creations of a fabulous food artist. I first met Jenny Walker a few years back at one of my Halloween events. She lives around the corner and has 2 beautiful children. Jenny and I spoke one day in the gallery and it all lead to her designing her special menus, with loving attention to detail…and flavor! Jenny traveled around the globe before she was married and learned allot about the many different secrets to world class cooking. Secretly l think people come for her appetizers and the art is just a bonus…well maybe the booze is in there too.
I went to Jenny’s house just prior to the opening for 818 to get an inside peek into her food world… with all of you in mind. She had the food channel serenading her from small TV in the kitchen, while she created her edible magic. She was searing pork tenderloins in a pan (see…I know words like searing) when I banged on the front door with camera in hand. I watched as she coated them with some sort of mixture that had cumin, cinnamon and chipotle and it all smelled wonderful…even to a semi vegetarian. Folks, meet Jenny, The Food Artist…a very charming woman and provider of extraordinarily good things to eat 😉
BTW…our menu for the evening…shown above, Island Pork Tenderloin bites with Arugula and mandarin orange slices with citrus vinaigrette drizzle….. Bruchetta with Roasted Eggplant, Roasted Red Pepper and Feta Cheese…. Smoked Salmon and Cucumber rolls and to top it all off… outrageous brownies topped with raspberries! OH YEAH
I took a few shots early on as people started arriving for our opening…and then had to put my camera down to eliminate bodily harm in the mayhem. A few people picked it up towards the end and took some of me and my fat cheeks. I wish I had more to show you just how many beautiful people came to see and enjoy the Studio. We had such a great time. Everyone…
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Anuvue Studio 
The Doctor Visit
Posted in Choices, Clowns, clutter, comment, Doctor visits, Entering New Territory, entertainment, good grief, Grand Central, Hanging out, Hiding place, Humor, Idiot, Life, neighbors, O.K. Corral, People, Personal, snort, Somewhere Over the rainbow, stomach muscles, the story unfolds, thoughts, uh oh, Uncategorized, Valor, wacky, walking on water, welome, What?, White Walls, Whoo Hoo, wisdom, wow, yellow brick road on August 28, 2008 by anuvuestudioOk, I haven’t told a story for a while…and well, today, I’ve got one. First, let me begin to tell you folks out there that still think it’s cool to have a tan, forget it. I spent my entire teen years burning…and peeling, burning and peeling, “repeat at will”… and now I’m paying for it. I now walk around with a giant black Joan Crawford hat and Chinese paper umbrellas; with SP…I don’t know…what are they up to…90? ya know…kind of vampirish.. (Not that I have any problems with vampires) Ok… that said. Preaching over.
Today was my “see the Dermatologist because you’ve had this thing on your cheek forever” visit. I actual refer to it as “My little friend” in a Scarface kind of accent. After securing a parking spot…that isn’t all that easy here in So Cal…I finally made it to room 204. When I opened the door to the office, I was greeted by a “spaciously challenged” room…maybe 9 feet wide by 10 feet long. It held a couch, a table and 4 chairs…2 facing 2 others…all shoved in with a shoehorn. There were no windows unless you call the slider door where the receptionist sits hidden with her own air… a window.
I crammed my way inside and saw a disgruntled looking 20 something guy with his equally disgruntled 20 something girlfriend sitting on the narrow couch. They were probably just mad because they now were forced to share their already limited air supply. Well, I did what any normal person would…I signed in for my 10:30 appointment, glared back and took a seat. The receptionist called me and gave me the ever-popular clipboard. It had more papers to sign than the mortgage I currently have and asked me more personal questions that my own husband has ever dared to ask.
While filling papers out, the narrow entrance door opened and in huddled an elderly lady with a large carved cane. She managed her way to the receptionist sign-in sheet and then took the second of the 4 chairs, opposite me…cane extending far into the room. Still filling out my paperwork, the door opened yet again. In came a long, lanky woman in maybe her late 50’s. She apparently was a repeat customer and had the routine down. She promptly signed and sat in the 3rd of 4 chairs, next to me. I had finished the first draft on my future life story and walked back up. It was at this time I noticed two things. One was that everyone signing in had an appointment at 10:30 and that thankfully there was a candy dish…with tootsie rolls. Well, all things considered, figuring trouble brewing, I naturally dug in, took enough to kill the pain and re-took my seat just in time to see the door open again.
In walked a very round, very tall man…with a rather large, round, pink woman behind him…and just as I thought the room couldn’t get any smaller…in came their daughter with the largest Afro I have ever seen in my life! It was at this very moment I started searching this tiny room for the hidden camera. Each person shuffled around, trying to get comfortable in a room where a family of Hobbits couldn’t get comfortable. I noticed the disgruntled guy get up and hi-tail it out into the hallway as quick as he could. He apparently thought it was “him”…or “her”…and he’d chose to save himself.. We all sat, trying not to stare at each other because there wasn’t anywhere to look…and just when I thought it couldn’t get worse…in walked a woman with a rather large incision at her throat with some very nasty looking sutures. I could feel my head spinning.
She signed, sat and stared with the rest. It was about this time my phone began to ring. It’s rather loud and I tried hard to get to it in time to turn it off. That’s when the elderly lady said “that’s a pretty song’…”who is it?”…all eyes on me. I swallowed and mumbled “Staind”. The late fiftyish woman yelled “Sting?”…. to which I had to reply “No, S-T-A-I-N-D”. “Well it’s very pretty…what’s the title?” she asked. I had to tell her “It’s been a while”…, to which I will not repeat the conversations of confusion that title lead to about my “remembering” but will tell you that Afro kid had a big smirk on her face, waiting to see how I’d get out of it. She and I were the only ones to know that the “Pretty song” was written by a recovered heroine addict confessing his life’s low moments…complete with profanity.
In my silence, the rather large, pink, round woman decided to ask each person his or her reason for being there at this momentous moment in time. I was treated to horrific scars, office treatments, surgery stories, chemo advise and just…just as they got to me…an angel with bright blue eyes and a pixie grin opened the second door and yelled “Heather”. I have never in my life catapulted across a room as if shot from a cannon…but I did then. I kissed her hand and said “THANK GOD YOU CAME FOR ME…!” I think she might have even understood.
I was then settled into a room of quite lovely, Zen like, decor. The designer, no doubt, had at one time been left in the waiting room and felt some form of moral responsibility to those who “made it through” boot camp lobby. I found it interesting that a dermatologist has the same type of bed thing you’re supposed to hop up on. The angel asked me the routine questions, “What are you allergic to”…oh so innocently. My smile confirmed she had hit the jackpot. Upon completion I sat there re-living, in my mind, the stories I had just heard in the Hobbit cave until the Doctor walked in and looked at me over her glasses. She questioned me rather bluntly about “my little friend”…”How long?”….“Um, well, a while”…quite a while”… No eye contact. To which she said “Are we talking years?… Hummmmmm…
She put her rather large glass over me with its rather bright light and pulled and prodded my cheek. She pulled her glasses upright and said “We can go about this one of 2 ways”…”I can give you a topical cream and we can try it for 3 weeks…or we can biopsy now…. which could leave a scar”. Now I knew damn well she thought I’d pick the cream being a woman. I replied, “Well, you know… I’ve always looked kinda innocent…let’s chance the scar!”… And finally, a smile. She then did her thing, finally presenting my cheek with a very un-fashionable band aid that could not be more noticeable if it were hot pink and I left with a “thank you very much” getting the hell out. I actually ran the 3 steps I needed to pass the waiting room.
I returned to work and promptly told the boys I was happy to have “Shaved off” a little weight and that I had now provided them with a target for all those rubber bands. My first comment, from a friend was…”Oh, Nice look”… I expected no less…
When I got home I promptly went to the store in search of the “cool band aids”. I had a choice of “Nascar” or “Hello Kitttie”…neither of which suits me. I was looking for a scull with crossbones but selected “Hello Kittie” because I figure I can draw fangs on her…
And, when I return to the Doc’s office, I think I’ll get some use out of my old lawn chair and sit in the hallway until they call… 😉
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