culture

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We went for the entertainment, but had dinner during the show at an upscale establishment in Huntington Beach called “La Cave.”
The name was no accident — it was, basically, a cave.

Oh yes, it was decidedly upscale, since they don’t give you a physical menu (it is printed on their web page — tres modern) but once you are seated, they have to show the cuts of everything on a glass-covered cart.

Nothing wrong with the food. There aren’t many choices, but my husband raved that his basic steak was extremely well prepared.

But the show was the reason for going, and it was very good — although the poor singers and musicians were cramped in a small area.

The singers and their little band (drums and bass and keyboard) were decidedly retro, which may be part of the reason they were decidedly upscale. I guess you have to be old to find the music truly familiar, but pieces they played later in the evening were more newer stuff I think they were trying to make sound old.

My wonderful husband thinks it is good for me to go to upscale places, because I work hard a lot.

Our swing-dancing friends were elated by my revelation of untranslated extra verses in the old Yiddish (Judaeo-German) song, Bei mir bist do schön, which had been a major force in my young childhood.

Of course it was popularized in the Big Bad Era by The Andrews Sisters — and it was the version our evening’s entertainment provided.

The swing dancers — the supremely talented Alec Marken and Sarah Aisha — stole the show with a spotlight dance and afterward introduced me to a young oriental man who was trying to figure out what to do in life.

What is amazing is that I seem to have fallen into the “elder stateswoman” sort of role.

From a hospital file clerk to studying teaching English to foreigners. I did that as a substitute teacher.

I hope I have not done too much already, for I know I want to do, must do, new things. And new things are on the horizon — much more interesting than cave exploration.

Of course, you will read about them here — so stay tuned!

Filed under culture, Family, life, News by on . Comment#

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The show is “Hot Topics.” I do not know the personalities of the folks on the oversized screen of this breakfast room where we happen to be staying. They throw around the names of celebrities I never heard of and they tell their intimate family lives painting in broad strokes without any testimonial evidence. A “gossip” show, my mother would have called it.

My mother would have turned such shows off on the television. My grandmother of blessed memory, my “Bobie,” would have turned the channel back to the gossip show, and commented how my Mother, who seemed to think she was head of the household, ran the place in a way similar to Adolf Hitler. Read more on Estelle is Magically Stuck Watching Television…

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This psych news of February 7, 2018 starts by suggesting an increase in suicide came about after the media reported Robin Williams’ suicide.

Although Robin Williams was, as far as I have heard, a bipolar and a substance abuser, at least some people may have been influenced in choosing suicide by the fact Robin Williams chose it first. Read more on Celebrity Worship And The “Copycat” Phenomenon…

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I am recommended News Fasts a lot these days.

I don’t think people have a clue what is going on in their brains and spirits when they watch television news.

Watching television News is like hypnosis, but with even less control about the kind of content that washes over your brain. Read more on You May Need A News Fast…

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I only saw pea plants growing in a field one time I can recall in a field in Northern France. Read more on Bless Your Pea-Picking Heart!…

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She was an administrator at the rural branch of a county mental health system. A therapist by training.

On the classical scale in the hallowed paradigms of the twentieth century, a psychiatrist like me who had sacrificed (or in other cases, put on hold or marginalized) her biological destiny — well, a psychiatrist like me would have been the head of the team.  I would have sat at the head of the table with those who had not survived anywhere near as many years of authoritative education silencing each other to hear authoritative pronouncements. But she was the chief, not me. Read more on The Language and Culture of Psychiatry…

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