Monday, October 6, 2014

I put the "bitch" in obituist. . .

So I'm an obitust, among other duties at the community newspaper where I work. I write the life stories of people who have died, sometimes as many as  four a week.

It's an interesting gig. I pour a lot into it because you only get one shot at making the relatives happy while telling a story that strangers would want to read. I am told that obituaries and the police blotter are always the most popular items in any paper.

I  am working on an obituary on a prominent woman who died at the age of 103. She patented an invention in her 80s and formed a company to sell it, even though she was already wealthy through her marriage. She did it just because she thought it was a good idea.

She was German by birth and had a favorite saying, "Only count the sunny days."

It reminds me of my grandmother, who I always called "Grandma at the Barn," because she and my grandfather lived on a ranch. Her life was difficult at times but she had the most bubbly laugh you have ever heard.

She enjoyed stories. She loved reading, with the upbeat and quirky mysteries of Dorothy Gilman, author of the Mrs. Polifax spy novels, as a personal favorite. Romantic comedies tickled her pink.

Songs and poetry were her delight. I'm told that she loved to recite Edgar Allen Poe's "Annabel Lee, " which always made her cry. She also taught me fun rhymes like the following gem:

Gum-chewing girls and cud-chewing cows
Are alike in some ways and yet different somehow. 
Ah yes, I see it all now. 
It's the intelligent look on the face of the cow. 

People's adventures were her joy, and she shared them in a way that make it all enthralling.  When you caught up with her, you caught up with every family member, every mutual acquaintance, and you knew what she learned from you would be included in the next update.

Now, back to the prominent woman whose obituary I am crafting.

At the time of her death, she was working on a book about information overload in the digital age. How do we "stem the tide"? she wondered. How do we stop over-indulging in useless, mind-skewing information. How do we avoid becoming "mentally obese."

It gives me pause while blogging.

There is so much media out there I don't want to add unexamined content. I want to be truthful and potentially useful. I want to offer an alternative view. And I want to write well. Great writing results from the push-pull between the writer's love of language and her willingness to ax words.

But still, I'm due for another blog entry.

If journalism is literature in a hurry, blogging is journalism in a hurry. That's a lot of hurry. Thus, all I have to share in this entry is a list of colorful experiences, as yet undigested.

*I have begun massaging my husband's feet at night. He has foot problems and I have studied up a bit on acupressure. I want to keep up with it and am eager to see if it has health benefits.

*On Sunday, I went to a sugar skull-making workshop. I most love doing crafts when all the materials are laid out for me. I made a flapper girl and another flower-bedecked skull.  I'll add them to the Day of the Dead altar my family makes each year.

Here's are some skulls made by my friend and sister-in-law, Jenifer.




*On Saturday I saw Bombay Bicycle Club at The Glass House in Pomona. I like the venue. It's small enough that everyone feels close to the stage,  I wanted them to play the song "Luna," and they did, sounding exactly like they do on their albums.



We were behind this guy who was having the time of his life. He was singing loudly and badly, dancing outside of his invisible box, and ever threatening to back up into us, invading us with a body clothed in a sweat-drenched shirt.

Next to him was his girlfriend and this guy who was so drunk, his face had gone dead. His eyes looked like Quint in "Jaws" says a shark's eyes look, "Lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll's eyes." They kind of like the eyes of one of the killers in "Fargo," Peter Stormare, played chillingly by Gaear Grimsrud. I sensed volatility. My friend moved away out of sheer annoyance.

The trio kept engaging in a three-way hug. Toward the end of the show, the jubilant guy kept asking for another song by yelling "Uno mas!" and "Otro mas!" Since Wikipedia tells me the band hails from Crouch End, London, I don't think they all necessarily speak Spanish. It was at the Glass House in Pomona, though. All's fair in love and Pomona. They closed with this number. the other song I had been praying they would play:
*Tonight I went to cover a Weezer record signing at Rhino Records in Claremont. I'm going to email a few questions to their manager and hope I get a response. Either way, I got great quotes from the very diverse group of people in the crowd. I also ran into two journalist friends of mine, which was fun. It's an exciting and intense and demanding and low-paying job. There is camaraderie and humor there.

You can imagine how blankly I arranged my poker face when I caught Rivers Cuomo's eyes in passing. I didn't want to let him know I was nursing a serious crush. (The man does not age. In fact, some kind of Portrait of Dorian Grey scenario is in effect with the entire band). I did wanted to let the band know that I am particularly fond of The Blue Album, and am enamored with the arpeggios is "Jonas" and "The World Has Turned and Left Me Here." Instead, I just enjoyed the fact that we were both wearing heavy-framed glasses. As they say in that "Breakfast at Tiffany's" song, that's one thing we've got.

Yes, there has been much information introduced into my slap-happy brain over the last few days. It's mostly the good stuff, though.

—Sarah Torribio

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