It was a rough week. We lost two creative souls to the private demons we had no idea they battled.
Kate Spade created, among other things, handbags I’ve always admired and been too poor to own. She always seemed hip and funky and carefree. Who knew that she suffered from bipolar disorder and depression?
I’ve been a fan of Anthony Bourdain for a long time. In fact, one of my characters mentions him in my first novel, Luke & Bella. In the book, they create a travel program very loosely based on Bourdain’s Travel Channel show, No Reservations. He always seemed to be an asshole, frankly, greeting the world on his own terms. But he always conveyed a deep respect for the people and cultures he visited. To hear that he’s gone, and by his own hand, is simply shocking.
We’re left with the inevitable question, why? Why did two people who seemed to have everything just quit? The fact that they each left a young daughter behind is heartbreaking. That’s not something you get over.
Which brings us to this point: We have to start a conversation about mental illness. Not talking about it is toxic. It’s not some dirty, shameful secret. Struggling does not make you defective, it makes you human. Talk to someone. Tell them what’s going on. Seek professional help.
If you had heart disease or diabetes, you’d see a doctor. Illness is illness, physical or mental. There are those who will criticize. Fuck’em. Take care of yourself.
If you or someone you love needs help, please call this number. I’ve been through some shit in my life. But the thing I’ve noticed is that the sun still comes up every morning. It’s a sure sign that you are loved, you have value, and you have hope.
I needed a little Sweet Baby James tonight. I hope you enjoy. Be sure to hug those you love this weekend.
I grew up in Chattanooga, Tennessee, and I traveled through Nashville countless times on my way to visit relatives in Kentucky. But it wasn’t until I was an adult that I first stayed there for a couple of nights.
Nashville is a cool town, with lots to see and do. We stayed downtown, and walked all over the place. We got a little rowdy in a huge bar called the Wildhorse Saloon, and we didn’t miss the opportunity to stop by the Ryman Auditorium, the sacred cathedral of country music.
The Grand Ole Opry started out as a live radio show in 1925, and was housed in the Ryman starting in 1943 and remained there until 1974, when it moved to its current, larger location. In the center of the new stage, there’s a six-foot circle of oak that came from the Ryman stage, symbolically and literally the heart of the theatre.
Even if you’re not a country music fan, the Grand Ole Opry is a sight to behold. It’s still a live radio show, every Saturday night. It also airs on television. But to be there is an experience.
Because unbeknownst to listeners, the Opry stage is like a three-ring circus, with something always happening. While someone is performing, someone who just finished is still out there breaking down, and the next act up is busy getting set up. Groups of tourists enter and leave the stage, snapping photos and getting autographs if they’re lucky.
In addition to being a show and a venue, the Opry is something of a Hall of Fame as well. Performers who are deemed worthy are invited to join, and it’s a huge honor. It’s also a commitment–Opry members are required to perform there a certain number of times per year.
There is a set schedule every week, so when you purchase your tickets, you know who you’ll be seeing. BUT… Performers who have a little time available often pop in unannounced, the better to get some of their annual obligation out of the way.
And so it happened that the night we went to the Grand Ole Opry, we were treated to a performance we didn’t expect. As one act was finishing up, we noticed an increased level of excitement at the side of the stage.
As soon as that performer left the stage, Clint Black and his co-writer Skip Ewing walked out, each carrying an acoustic guitar and a stool. Sitting on the apron of the stage, they began to play Something That We Do. The entire place went dark, with only a spotlight on the pair, and for the first time all night, a hush fell over the room, all of us spellbound by this beautiful song.
I remember well the day we wed
I can see that picture in my head
I still believe the words we said
Forever will ring true
Love is certain, love is kind
Love is yours and love is mine
But it isn’t something that we find
It’s something that we do
It’s holding tight, lettin’ go
It’s flying high and laying low
Let your strongest feelings show
And your weakness, too
It’s a little and a lot to ask
An endless and a welcome task
Love isn’t something that we have
It’s something that we do
We help to make each other all that we can be
Though we can find our strength and inspiration independently
The way we work together is what sets our love apart
So closely that you can’t tell where I end and where you start
It gives me heart remembering how
We started with a simple vow
There’s so much to look back on now
Still it feels brand-new
We’re on a road that has no end
And each day we begin again
Love’s not just something that we’re in
It’s something that we do
We help to make each other all that we can be
Though we can find our strength and inspiration independently
The way we work together is what sets our love apart
So closely that you can’t tell where I end and where you start
Love is wide, love is long
Love is deep and love is strong
Love is why I love this song
And I hope you love it too
I remember well the day we wed
I can see that picture in my head
Love isn’t just those words we said
It’s something that we do
There’s no request too big or small
We give ourselves, we give our all
Love isn’t someplace that we fall
It’s something that we do
It’s a moment I’ll never forget. And I can’t shake the message of the song, that love isn’t somewhere we fall, or something we find, it’s something we do. Every day. Every moment.
I hope this evening finds you well, and surrounded by those you love. Be sure to give them a hug.
Happy Saturday night!
PS–I’m adding another beautiful Clint Black song, this one a duet with his wife, Lisa. ❤
I LOVE St. Patrick’s Day! On my bucket list is to pay someone to play Galway Girl in a pub in Galway on St. Patrick’s Day. So far, this first video is as close as I’ve gotten. It’s a joyous street celebration!
Tonight, in celebration of all things Eire, I’ve assembled some of my favorite Irish music by some of my favorite Irish bands. If you’re not familiar with them, it’s a sampling of what’s out there.
To me, the perfect place to celebrate the day is in an Irish bar listening to traditional music. A few St. Patrick’s Days ago, Mr. R and I spent hours at the James Joyce Irish Pub, a wonderful bar in Tampa’s Ybor City neighborhood.
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We listened to great music and tossed back way too many little green shots before we staggered back to our hotel in the wee hours of the morn. At one point, Mr. R paid the guy to sing Dirty Old Town. Here it is by The Pogues.
You can’t celebrate the day without Irish Rover. This traditional version is by the Dubliners with The Pogues. Just ignore the bad teeth, it’s brilliant.
The Dropkick Murphys are undoubtedly my favorite jig-punk band, and I was thrilled to go see them last time they came through town. This is Rose Tattoo.
Again, here are The Pogues, with If I Should Fall From Grace With God. Does it seem like the Irish have something of a fixation on death?
Finally, and if you’re still here, you’re awesome, here’s a set from my favorite Irish band, The Prodigals, at their home bar, Paddy Reilly’s on the lower east side of Manhattan. I actually DID get to see them here once, and it was magical.
Pull up a stool and raise your pint glass. Sláinte, hug those you love, and have a happy Saturday night.
Winter’s all fun and games until you wake up to 37 degrees in Palm Beach County. That, my friends, is when shit gets real.
We’re not equipped for that kind of thing. I had to dig into the back of my closet to find my fleece. And how am I supposed to wear open-toed shoes when it’s 37? Nah, that kind of thing just isn’t right.
We need a little caliente up in here. Which brings us to tonight’s serenade, Despacito. It’s shot in Puerto Rico, pre-Maria. There’s sunshine, sand, warm surf, and plenty of sexy!
So as I shiver in three layers of clothing, all bundled up in a blanket in front of the fire, I’m imagining I’m relaxing in the warm sunshine with a nice margarita in my hand. Come join me! And bring the ones you love. I know I will.
Happy November! Can it be possible that the holidays are right around the corner? Oh, it CAN be–judging by the sudden onslaught of Christmas displays in the stores and the commercials on television.
Last weekend was cool here in south Florida. A/C was turned off, windows were opened, a fresh breeze whisked away all the stale air from the house. We even had a fire in the fireplace a couple of nights. This weekend is more or less back to normal for this time of year–bright sunshine and low humidity with high temps around 80.
But last weekend put me in a mood. I want to escape to a pub in Galway, and sip a pint of Guinness while listening to a local band.
I love this song by Ed Sheeran, and I adore this video even more. Join me for a pint, and celebrate this beautiful fall evening. Be sure to hug those you love. Happy Saturday night!
Happy August, everyone! This summer is just moving on along, isn’t it? I’m feeling pretty happy right now, I’ll just be honest with you.
This is the final summer weekend for all my teacher friends. They have to show up on Monday, ready for another year. My retirement officially starts Monday.
I know, I’ve been off all summer, but I would have been anyway. In all fairness, though, since the end of school in June, I’ve been working seven days a week as I endeavor to make a go of full-time writing, so I didn’t actually take a break. But I’m happy doing what I’m doing, I’m nearly finished with my new novel, and I know what my next project will be.
Tonight’s serenade is a romantic little song, I’m Yours by Jason Mraz. It isn’t a summer song per se, but it always feels summery to me. Guanabanas, one of our favorite date night destinations, is a tropical paradise, an outdoor bar/restaurant on the river in Jupiter. On their tiki stage, there’s usually a guy with an acoustic guitar singing Jason Mraz covers. I love to order a Cat 5 hurricane along with a round of their homemade fish dip and just chill.
Feel free to do the same on this first weekend of August. Be sure to hug those you love, and tell them how much they mean to you. Happy Saturday night!
I’m Yours
Well, you done done me and you bet I felt it
I tried to be chill, but you’re so hot that I melted
I fell right through the cracks
Now I’m trying to get back
Before the cool done run out
I’ll be giving it my bestest
And nothing’s gonna stop me but divine intervention.
I reckon, it’s again my turn
To win some or learn some.
But I won’t hesitate
No more, no more.
It cannot wait,
I’m yours.
Well, open up your mind and see like me,
Open up your plans and damn you’re free.
Look into your heart and you’ll find love, love, love, love.
Listen to the music of the moment, people dance and sing, we’re just one big family
And it’s our God-forsaken right to be loved, loved, loved, loved, loved
So I won’t hesitate
No more, no more.
It cannot wait,
I’m sure.
There’s no need to complicate.
Our time is short.
This is our fate,
I’m yours.
Do you want to come on, scooch on over closer, dear
And I will nibble your ear
I’ve been spending way too long checking my tongue in the mirror
And bending over backwards just to try to see it clearer
But my breath fogged up the glass
And so I drew a new face and I laughed.
I guess what I’ll be saying is there ain’t no better reason
To rid yourself of vanities and just go with the seasons.
It’s what we aim to do.
Our name is our virtue.
But I won’t hesitate
No more, no more.
It cannot wait,
I’m yours.
Well, open up your mind and see like me,
Open up your plans and damn you’re free.
Look into your heart and you’ll find that the sky is yours.
So please don’t, please don’t, please don’t…
There’s no need to complicate.
‘Cause our time is short.
This oh, this oh, this is our fate.
I’m yours.
Oh, I’m yours
Oh, I’m yours
Oh, oh,
Baby, do you believe, I’m yours?
You best believe, you best believe, I’m yours.
Summer road trip, anyone? Mr. R and I headed over to Tampa last weekend for an Indie author book convention. The event featured Indie authors from all over the world, and was held at a party space called Chic Venue.
It was pretty inside (okay, Mr. R called it gaudy) and as soon as we arrived, we set about putting our half of the table in order.
I shared the table with a lovely author named Harmony Stalter. She was super nice, and displayed two books, one of which she called a ‘second-chance romance’, and the other a murder mystery. Which probably explains the jar with the (fake) heart and the other one filled with eyeballs.
She later apologized for the gruesome display, but I replied that her jars probably accounted for most of the people who stopped by our table. The event ran from noon to 6:00, and traffic was slow. Even so, I had a wonderful time and met a lot of great writers. I’m even making plans to return next year.
As Mr. R and I headed home, we stopped in Ybor City, my favorite part of Tampa. It’s the historic Cuban district, and probably where we should have had the author event. I’ll push for that for next year.
Anyway, we found street parking and strolled toward the loud live music coming from down the street. It emanated from Gaspar’s Grotto, a place we know well. It’s where you go when you want the absolute best Cuban sandwich you’ll find anywhere. So with cocktails on the table and sandwiches ordered, we relaxed to live music and reflected on our day.
It was our summer road trip. Which brings me to tonight’s serenade, Love Shack, the ultimate road trip song. And it makes me wonder… We told you about our trip. Where have you traveled this summer? I’d love to hear all about it.
In the meantime, hug those you love. Happy Saturday night!
Isn’t July sublime? I haven’t always felt that way. Before I walked away from education, around this time of year I’d be getting that little tummy thing, that deep-seated dread signalling that the end of summer was near.
But since early June, I’ve transitioned into writing full-time. Mr. R is working on building his real estate business and he currently has his first listing under contract. We’ve also had to do a lot of wrangling with the school district over my retirement payments. No surprise there, really. They can’t ever do anything the easy way.
This morning, we were thrilled to find that the payment for the 619 unused sick hours I’ve been hoarding for years was FINALLY deposited into our bank account. It’s a huge relief, providing a bit of a cushion until real estate kicks into high gear. And I start selling a buncha-lotta books.
After checking the bank account this morning, Mr. R turned to me. “We need a vacation. Let’s go on a (little) cruise.” Which is why I’ve spent some time this morning checking into a short Bahamas cruise, hopefully in September.
That brings me to tonight’s serenade, Cruisin’. I love Huey Lewis. I believe that 1983’s album Sports was one of the greatest albums of all time. Not such a fan of Gwyneth Paltrow–she’s annoying. But I LOVE this song, and it’s been flitting through my head since I started thinking about a cruise.
I hope you’re having a fabulous summer evening. Hug those you love. Happy Saturday night!
Looking for your next great read? Love to have fun in the sun? Join me this Sunday, July 16, in Tampa for the Tampa Indie Author Book Convention!
I understand that about 40 Indie authors will be there, chatting with readers and signing books. I’ll have copies of RESISTING RISK, LUKE & BELLA, and LOST & BOUND. I’ll also have some free swag.
Admission to the event is FREE, and you can buy tickets to the VIP after party where there will be food and an OPEN BAR. Just imagine, sipping cocktails and chatting with your favorite Indie authors. Sounds amazing, right?
Welcome to the unofficial start of summer! It’s a three-day weekend, and I’m only two work days away from retiring. Starting June 1, I’m a full-time writer. Hopefully that means that this neglected little blog will get a bit more attention.
We’re taking a big chance, Mr. R and I. His fledgling real estate career is just beginning to bear fruit. By retiring early, I’m walking away from a sure paycheck every two weeks. But life is short, getting shorter every day. So we’re seizing the day, taking the opportunity to try something new.
For now, that means he’s selling houses in Palm Beach County. And I’m working from home, writing and promoting steamy romance. On the other hand, we may consider selling everything and taking to the road. Recently Mr. R showed me a video of the island of Mauritius. “Here. Let’s move here,” he said.
I can write from Mauritius, y’all. And I imagine someone has to sell houses there. Or work in television news. Or whatever he decides he wants to do. It’s thrilling to know that we don’t have to settle for the status quo.
Confession: I’m hedging my bets. I’m packing into the garage everything I’d need to start a first grade classroom again. Worst case scenario, I end up going back to teaching at some point.
But it’s a beautiful day today, I’m in love with the love of my life, and dammit, you know what? I’m happy. Hence tonight’s serenade.
I wish for you all the happiness in the world. Hug those you love and enjoy your weekend. Happy Saturday night!
Adventures in Date Night 
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