All posts by Rhonda

I'm a 57 year old lover of life, family, friends, and creative writing (amongst numerous other activities, people, animals, big ideas, and things). I am a native Minnesotan now living in my happy place of "Minnesconsin". I was a case manager/social worker for many years in Wisconsin and am now ready for my new chapter in life as a writer. I enjoy writing about my day to day (mis)adventures, the people I love and those that inspire me, places I've traveled to, music that makes my world go 'round, politics and current affairs, and general observations and ideas about life and ideas on how it could be improved. My hope is that my blog will be interactive and uplifting.
Dogs, Grandparenting, Lifestyle, Simplicity

What’s on your Summer Bucket List?

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The thing about summer is that it’s so fleeting. It comes up so fast and before you know it, the leaves are changing and the temps are dropping. Boats are put away for the season and kids are getting back to school.

Here in Minnesconsin, it is just now starting to feel like a proper summer. We have had so much rain it’s ridiculous. And if it wasn’t raining, it was in the high 90’s. As a result, we’ve been spending more time indoors than we had hoped to.

Today, however, it’s in the mid-70’s with nary a cloud in the sky. Mr. NOA and I are planning to take a cruise on our pontoon once he’s done with his workday.

I have a history of being that person with lots of grand ideas about cramming as much fun into the summer season as possible. I’m determined that this summer, with our newest grandson about to be born (daughter is being induced on Friday!), things will be less frenzied than summers past.

There’s no big travel plans on the horizon, save for a few days visiting my side of the family in northern Minnesota. We are, for the most part, staying put.

But staying put doesn’t mean fun isn’t going to be had. The fun, however, will be localized and simple.

Things like making homemade ice cream with the fancy machine my awesome SIL got me for Christmas. As many pontoon rides as possible. ‘Smores over the campfire. Putting ice cubes in the kiddy pool for Radar and our kid’s two dogs to play in on a hot day. Drinking wine on the patio at our local winery. Seeing a summer blockbuster movie in the theater. Playing croquet in the yard with our 11-year-old grandson. Gardening and further beautifying our outdoor space. Getting out in our kayaks.

And of course, rocking that baby.

I’ve created a Spotify playlist for our pontoon excursions this summer. It’s filled with “yacht rock” style music, mostly from the 70’s and 80’s. I’ll be adding this one as soon as I hit the publish button on this post.

Please share what’s on your summer bucket list in the comments!

Arts and Crafts, Creative Pursuits, family, Grandparenting, Gratitude, Lifestyle, Love, marriage

For the Love of Quilt

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Over the course of my life, I have been fortunate to be the recipient of several quilts and afghans.

My mom, Bonnie, was so creative. I am a creative spirit as well, but the execution of my creative ideas is historically pretty spotty. One of Bonnie’s creative pursuits was sewing quilts and making afghans. They are some of my most prized possessions.

I am in awe of those who can create in this way. I never had the manual dexterity nor the type of brain required to create works of art such as these. In fact, I vividly recall back in about 8th grade being unable to finish the sundress I was supposed to make in Home-Ec class. My BFF, who had decided to sew herself a sundress alongside me in this class, also had a mother who was a talented seamstress, I wound up relying on her to finish my pitiful project. God bless that woman. Don’t ask me why I didn’t ask Bonnie for help, because I don’t recall. I imagine shame was involved.

This is all to say that I cherish the quilts and afghans that have been bequethed to me over the years because of the love, artistry, and tedious work that was put into them.

If you’ve been reading this little blog of mine for a bit, you may recall that Mr. NOA and I recently celebrated our 35th wedding anniversary. There was one very special gift we were given as a wedding present.

It was this quilt.

It was made by Paula, the wife of Mr. NOA’s boss at the time, a man named Ken. Mr. NOA, who is a bit more than 3 years younger than me, was in his last year of college when he was hired by Ken, who ran a small vending machine business that stocked vending machines on our college campus and the larger community. Ken was blind and needed someone to not only help him with the manual labor of stocking the vending machines but he also needed a driver.

The fact that Paula, whom I believe I only met once or twice, sewed this quilt for us to commemorate our new marriage, really touched our hearts.

This quilt has been laid on by drooling babies (our daughter being the first). It has kept us warm while we laid under it on our tent-camping trips. It has served as protection for us as a family from the rugged ground it covered as we watched the fireworks on the 4th of July or enjoyed live music outdoors.

For the last three years, however, this quilt has been quietly taking up space in the trunk at the foot of our bed.

As I got a wild hair the other night and decided to pull this beauty out of its hiding spot, Mr. NOA and I talked about its future.

I think one of two things ought to happen: I find a local seamstress who can restore it to it’s former glory (if you zoom in, you can see the rips and tears here and there), OR I find another creative who can repurpose it. I’m thinking they would carefully cut it up and place it in a shadowbox frame. Maybe a couple of them, so baby Levi (who’s coming soon!) can have one hanging in his room too.

Mr. NOA, on the other hand, said he thinks we should just…let it be. Keep it in it’s current form and use it as we always have. Maybe we could lay it out in our yard late at night and gaze at the stars with it underneath our outstretched bodies. Maybe it could be cover for our 11 year-old grandson when he’s sleeping overnight with us in our camper. Maybe we pull it out for Levi to rest on when he’s at our house and it’s “tummy time”.

Knowing myself as I think I do, I feel a sense of urgency to decide this beloved heirloom’s fate; otherwise there’s a damn good chance it’s going back in the trunk and forgotten about while my brain comes up with yet another creative repurposing idea that may never come to fruition.

~As always, I have a song to share that fits the vibe I’m in while writing this piece today~

Blogging, Celebrate, gardening, Granparenting, Gratitude, Intentionality, Joy, Lifestyle, Minnesconsin, Motherhood, Simplicity

I Used To Do This Thing

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Specifically, on this blog. When it was younger.

It was a personal life update sorta deal that I would do periodically. I leaned in on words like “current” (which is a state I prefer to live in and write about) and “rocking” or “rolling”.

Anyway, for today, I’m going to just revive that if you please.

Thanks to the support of Mr. NOA, my sister, and my daughter’s “bonus moms”, our daughter and future son-in-law’s baby shower went off without a hitch. We had plenty of room in our shed (which I’m now and forever referring to as the “we shed“) to hold the approximately 30 people that came to celebrate the imminent birth of baby Levi.

The food was a hit and there was plenty of it. It warmed my heart to see our daughter’s friends show up to support her. She and her fiance now have virtually everything they need to welcome baby Levi home this summer.

And the best part?

Just look at those happy faces!

How was everyone’s Memorial Day weekend?

Did you do anything fun?

Did you spend it with people you love? Did you go anywhere new?

Yesterday was our 35th wedding anniversary. Not that we didn’t feel this warranted a big, splashy celebration, but we chose to stay home together and have a simple weekend. As today is my regular day off from work, and yesterday was a paid holiday for us, we’re on day 4 of this little “staycation” here in Minnesconsin.

It’s been sweet.

The kids all came over yesterday afternoon and we had a little picnic lunch and a ride on the pontoon. Mr. NOA wore his “Call Me Captoon” t-shirt for the event, which I loved. Our 11-year-old grandson caught a fish (not quite a keeper, unlike this kid) using a bit from the cherries I had packed in one of the coolers.

Mr. NOA and I, earlier in the weekend, drove over to one of our favorite stores for supplies we needed to start giving our yard and gardens some love. If you’re from the Upper Midwest like we are, you’ll know the name of the place by these words “Save Big Money at….”.

As the two of us are on a mission this summer to intentionally invest in and nurture the land we live on, we bought rose bushes, multiple bags of mulch, landscaping cloth, and blueberry bushes. Thankfully, we’ll get an 11% rebate! #iykyk.

Then we got to work.

Rose bushes were planted on either side of the garage door. Grass seed was sprinkled on some bare patches in the yard. Landscaping cloth was laid down, with mulch placed on top and then evened out. Blueberry bushes were planted in a special spot where I can see them from my kitchen window (a feature my dear father-in-law wisely noted three years ago, when we were house-hunting here in Minnesconsin, that I would personally most appreciate in any house we bought ).

So, as cheesy as it may sound, today I say “Life is Good”.

And because online this morning I read a beautifully written, heartfelt story written by the artist Michael Franti. It was about his two moms, who both recently passed away, just 6 weeks apart from each other. One was his adoptive mom, and the other, his birth mom. I’m going to share a song from him because I love his music.

This song, in particular, feels to me like a great choice for ushering in summer.

American Politics, Community, Humor, Intentionality, Lifestyle, Moods, Protests, Rage, Reading, Self-Reflection

Reading and Misreading

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Let me just say my love of shopping at thrift stores will never wane.

This picture is of the books I picked up on my latest trip to our local Goodwill.

I just finished the one at the top of the pile, “The Bookshop on the Corner”. It was an enjoyable read; a sweet yet meandering story of romance and friendship, riddled with phrasings I was unfamiliar with but nonetheless got the gist of. More than anything, though, it made me want to visit Scotland.

Now the question is, which book shall I tear into next? I’m partial to “Soul Pancake”, written by Rainn Wilson (Dwight Schrute from “The Office”).

If these were your books, which one would you read next?

In other news, I have a short story about one of the other things I picked up at Goodwill that day.

Even if I’m on a mission to find used books or home decor when I walk into a thrift store, I will always end up perusing the racks of clothes when I’m there. I just can’t help myself.

So, after finding the books I’m reading next and a few other random items, I mosey on over to those racks. Knowing that soon I’ll be participating in another anti-tRump administration rally/protest, I’m thrilled to see the *perfect* t-shirt for this (and future such) events.

Dear friends: the t-shirt was light blue and my size. Emblazoned with stars, it read “In My Enraged Era”. As a fan of Taylor Swift (who feels a bit too old to refer to themselves as a “Swiftie”, especially given the fact that I can’t tell you which of her albums resonates with me the most), who is, indeed, quite enraged about the state of America under tRump 2.0, it felt like serendipity.

So, Mr. NOA and I attended the rally/protest that Saturday. I, proudly wearing my cool new t-shirt and holding up the sign I made earlier that morning, was feeling pretty sassy. Having just gotten my hair chopped off and highlighted earlier in the week also boosted my sense of righteous indignation.

It was all (in my head) “I’m enraged and I’m not going to take it anymore” vibes that day.

If you look closely at the t-shirt, you’ll know where the rest of this story is going.

Later that evening, just as I was about to get ready for bed, I happened to glance down at my cool new t-shirt.

Ope! I read the shirt wrong!!!

It actually says “In my engaged era”

In hindsight, I realize this likely was a t-shirt made to be purchased by a newly engaged-to-be-married person to wear to their engagement party.

The irony is that I opened my big mouth on this blog back in January and claimed this was my year of “intentionality”. Yet, being intentional is akin to being “engaged”, right?

And I am engaged: in day-to-day life, engaged with blogging, engaged in my workplace, engaged in the relationships I share with the people I love, engaged with my creative spirit, and engaged in good trouble as an American voter. And I endeavor to maintain this engagement.

So, that’s the story of how I went from enraged to engaged.

Or maybe it’s a story of how we all see what we want to see sometimes and not what is actually there.

Or maybe it’s a lesson for me to continue to engage with my enragement as our administration continues their reckless and evil doings to the people of this country I love.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, I’m sharing a Taylor Swift song that best captures the feeling of enragement for me.

Celebrate, family, Grandparenting, Lifestyle, Love, Planning

Grandma is in Planning Mode

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I recently caught myself adding “make to-do lists” for various events coming up in my life on my semi-regular weekly “to-do” list.

Yes, I am neurotic. And/or ADHD.

Let’s just say I am in full-on planning mode right now, friends. I am a bit out of practice in this arena, as the last gathering I executed with more than 8 invitees was almost 10 years ago.

The nearest of these happenings is the baby shower I’m planning for my beautiful daughter, who just arrived at the third trimester of her second pregnancy. This is coming up in less than 2 weeks.

Yikes!

I’ve got games lined up. What’s a baby shower without a few goofy games, right? One of the games is an A-Z challenge where people are given a set amount of time to write down baby names. Whoever gets the most wins a prize.

Silly yet serious question: do I play a song-maybe one with the word baby in the title, or use one of the plastic hourglass timers from one of the many board games we rarely play, while folks are rapidly trying to capture every baby name they can think of on paper? I want to make sure everyone has enough, but not too much, time for this challenge.

Here’s another one: do I fulfill my hosting daydreams by baking various sweet treats to display on the beautiful tiered treat stand thing that I’m on a mission to buy this weekend? In addition to the cake I ordered yesterday from the grocery store bakery, because like those aforementioned goofy games, what’s a baby shower without a cake?

These are but a few of the thoughts that are plaguing my brain these days.

These two kids of ours-our daughter and her fiance-have not yet determined baby’s name. There have been a few (which I won’t share because one of them I really love and secretly hope they choose and I don’t want to jinx it) they have talked about, but at this point they think they’ll know baby’s name when they see his face.

Plot twist!

I wrote the above paragraph earlier in the week…and guess what? Our daughter texted me yesterday to say they have landed on a name. It is the one I favored! His name will be Levi.

From parents.com: The name Levi has become a favorite amongst new parents for being both traditional and trendy. It means ā€œunited,” “joined,ā€ or, sometimes, ā€œjoined in harmony.”

To think that 11 years ago, I was beside myself with angst about becoming a first-time grandma at the oh-so-young age of 47!

I’ve looped in our daughter’s fiance’s mom and step-mom to help with executing this affair. I find it slightly awkward texting back and forth with them, as I’ve only met them in person a handful of times since our kids got together almost 3 years ago. But I am looking forward to interacting with my future son-in-law’s large family as time goes on. This baby shower is going to usher in the joining of our families.

Isn’t it just an amazing and beautiful thing how families evolve over time?

Enjoy this cover of a sweet song I love to sing to babies!

Community, democracy, Grandparenting, Lifestyle, Optimism, Protests

Flags, Rubik’s Cubes, and Resistance

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A few weeks ago, my 11 year-old grandson and I went to our local Dollar General store. As he’s wont to do, he dashed around the store looking for treasures for me to buy for him.

One such treasure was a Rubik’s cube. I pointed out that he already had one, and he informed me that it was misplaced. So, I told him to put it in my cart.

Soon after, the kid was searching for images of flags around the world and happily maneuvering the cube to re-create the images of flags.

“Look Grandma-it’s Belize!”

“Look Grandma-it’s Italy!”

“Look Grandma-it’s Turkey!”

I love his creative, curious spirit.

My Dad, Babe, served in the Korean War. From him, I learned to always respect the flag. He took pride in displaying the American flag in front of our house. He kept it in pristine condition (like he did with virtually every single thing).

Mr. NOA and I were recently on our way in our trusty Tacoma to a medical appointment (no worries, all is well) about 45 minutes away. A house on a corner featured a tRump flag. Two, actually. I instinctively shook my head in frustration upon seeing this particular flag in someone’s yard. Then my eye caught another (tRump) flag on the other side of the yard. Only this one was horribly tattered. It had sun damage and almost appeared to have been the victim of a toddler with a pair of scissors.

Upon pointing it out to Mr. NOA (unfortunately I wasn’t swift enough to capture the image of this forlorn flag), he said “it’s tattered, just like our country is now”. True that, as they say.

I remember a phrase Kamala Harris said often during her ill-fated presidential campaign: it’s a crying shame. She said it about many different things, but often it was about the economic struggles faced by low to mid-income hard-working American families. That really resonated with me, because I felt she was speaking from her heart. She knew that if there was to be a second tRump administration, things would certainly get worse for Americans.

Indeed, things have gotten much, much worse here in the good old U.S.A. On so many levels.

The overwhelm I feel about it all threatens to render me helpless. I think acknowledging that is helpful. As is giving myself permission to retreat from it all from time to time, in an effort to retain my sanity.

Not completely retreat, mind you. I care too much about the future of this country and my fellow citizens for that.

I’ve been doing itty bitty things here and there to stay engaged in the resistance to this evil regime. Like sending postcards to the White House, expressing my disgust of this administration’s willfull resistance to the rule of law. I’ve made calls and sent emails to my state senators, urging them to do the right thing and oppose this administration. Mr. NOA and I attended a rally last weekend in a nearby town, holding signs we made for the occasion. It lifted my spirits to be amongst the 25 or so other folks expressing collective outrage at what is happening to our country.

We plan on attending the next rally, scheduled for the first Saturday in May. My hope is that even more people will join us; perhaps some of the folks driving past us during the first rally who enthusiastically honked their horns and gave us “thumbs ups”.

It seems to me that if every one of us who is against what is happening to democracy in America right now does what they can, what they feel able to do with whatever time/energy/skills they possess, we have a chance at getting this ship turned around and on a better path for us all.

I’ve been on a classic rock and protest song kick lately, so I’ll leave you with this gem.

Blogging, Creative Writing, Mindset, Self-Reflection, Words

Journey is an Overused Word

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Are you like me, who has certain words that just…grate? Words that you hear so much, seemingly everywhere you go, whether online or IRL, that they at minimum lose their meaning and maximum make you want to throw things?

I could preface what I’m about to say with the phrase “unpopular opinion”, but to me that’s another phrase that I dislike because of it’s overuse in the current American English lexicon. It’s certainly an attention-grabber, but it seems to me whatever comes next after that phrase is often not an unpopular opinion.

I believe “journey” is an over-used word.

I prefer the word “path” (says the blogger with the word path in the title of their publication).

Per Merriam-Webster, the definition of the word “journey” is thus: “something suggesting travel or passage from one place to another”.

Also per Merriam-Webster, the definition of the word “path” is both “a trodden way” and “a track specially constructed for a specific use”.

I recognize and appreciate that both the words “journey” and “path” are often used figuratively as opposed to literally.

I prefer the word “path” over “journey” because it feels more concrete. It’s not so “hippy dippy” sounding; it connotes purposeful action. The word “path” feels weightier and rougher. More grounded and real than the ethereal “journey”.

This is why I’m glad I chose to call this blog “Pollyanna’s Path” and not “Pollyanna’s Journey”. It suits me better.

Now, the “Pollyanna” part is a whole other ball of wax for me at this point on my blogging path. I may pontificate on that in a future blog post.

The “path” part feels right to me creatively. I created this “track” just over 8 years ago. It hasn’t been entirely smooth or straight. It’s had moments where it lost its way a bit and moments of silent reflection. It’s had times where it saw something shiny in the distance and switched gears to try something new. Sometimes it resonated with readers, sometimes it did not. It’s all part of this writing path of mine.

I do, however, quite enjoy one version of “journey”…..

Aging, Humor, Intentionality, Lifestyle, Self Improvement

I Feel Bad about my Arms

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Years ago, I started reading a book (possibly a memoir?) by Nora Ephron. When she wrote something to the effect of “I feel bad about my neck”, in that she felt it needed covering because as she’d gotten older the skin started looking crepey. I stopped reading after that line, because I just couldn’t relate. It felt like she was speaking to women “of a certain age” (aka much older than me at that time). And my neck was perfectly fine, thankyouverymuch.

Now I kinda get it. Only for me, it’s about my arms.

I was looking in the mirror a month or so ago and decided I didn’t like the appearance of my upper arms. They are flabby and jiggly and just overall unattractive. As I enjoy wearing sleeveless tops in the summertime, I decided to address this situation with intention.

Now, I’ve always had little upper-arm strength. I remember being one of maybe two or three other kids in middle school who were unable to do that thing where you hang by your arms on a metal bar. I also have hereditary peripheral neuropathy, which causes my limbs to frequently give me that oh-so-fun feeling of pins and needles, in particular when I stay in one position for too long.

I figured the simplest route to reducing my upper arm flab would be to incorporate doing push-ups on my bedroom floor during my regular morning yoga stretching/praying session.

Guess what? I can do up to 27 sit-ups now! Granted they are not the traditional, full-on push-ups; they are the kind of push-ups where I’m on my knees so that it’s only the upper half of my body weight in play. Then, I will do up to 4 actual, real push-ups. Well, real enough. I estimate that I’ve gone from moving 1/2 inch toward the floor to 1 whole inch since I began this routine.

This might seem quite pathetic to you all, especially if you’re the sporty type. But I see it as a baby step toward my goal of having less flabby arms and a stronger core. If I just remain consistent with it, I ought to get results.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

For your auditory enjoyment, may I present an uplifting, groovy little tune sung by a one-of-a-kind artist, Ray LaMontagne.

family, Love, Memories, Storytelling, Wisdom

Pearls on the Brain

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This post is inspired by two things.

Well, two women I loved and the “Pearls of Wisdom” theme the non-profit I work at has going on to celebrate our 30th year of serving the senior citizens and adults living with disabilities in our county. Because the traditional gift for 30 year anniversaries is pearls.

The two women I am referring to are my grandmothers, who both passed away years ago, when I was a young adult.

Both of my grandmothers were named Pearl.

Recently, I found what is surely the only photo in my family’s history of the three of us together. I, aged 8 or 9, in my red, snazzy, and bedazzled dance costume flanked on either side by a Pearl.

I’m so bummed that I cannot find that photo for the life of me.

But I did find these two:

Me, in my baby goblin era, with my dad’s Mom, Pearl.
What I’m certain is the last photo with me and the other Pearl (my mom’s Mom) when I was 19.

The two Pearls were very different from each other. Like, very.

One tended to stay awake late into the night playing solitaire.

The other read tarot cards in her younger days, which my Grandpa was vehemently opposed to. Something about it being “devil’s work”.

One was a great cook. The two things I clearly remember her making on the regular was chili with big chunks of celery, stewed tomatoes, and spaghetti. It was more like soup, but my mouth waters whenever I recall how delicious it was. The other was white cake with chocolate frosting. I remember there always seemed to be one of those cakes sitting on top of her washing machine (why there is beyond me).

The other Pearl comes to mind when I smell Noxema. The woman used it religiously. Speaking of religion, she was a believer of the evangelical pentacostal variety. She donated gobs of money over the years to the Billy Graham/700 Club nonsense. She was a teetotaler.

My other Grandma Pearl loved to laugh and socialize, (though I don’t think she was laughing when our family accidentally left her at Disneyland during our one-and-only big cross-country multi-family vacation in about 1974. A stellar moment in our family).

The other Pearl was a bit misunderstood and under-appreciated. I, along with several of my family members, believe she was living with an undiagnosed case of manic-depressive or bipolar mental illness. She could be super silly but also super not. We never knew what version of her to expect when we came to visit. One famous story from my mom’s youngest sister was when her friend Ruthie came to hang out after school, Grandma Pearl, for whatever reason, wanted her gone. She told Ruthie, “why don’t you go home and get acquainted with your own mother?” My aunt was mortified!

I’d really like to learn more about my two Pearls. Perhaps I will bite the bullet and sign up for one of those ancestry dna sites, so I can learn more about their lives before they became my Grandmas. Maybe that’d give me more of a notion of what their “pearls of wisdom” would be if they were still here with the rest of us.

Please don’t hold back with sharing your “pearls of wisdom” with me in the comments. The more original, the better!

I hope you enjoy today’s sweet song.

Friendships, GenX, Gratitude, Intentionality, Joy, Lifestyle, Music

Sometimes I Just Want to Yap about Music

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I’m currently obsessed with using my basement rec room more. That is where my turntable is situated and where my rocking chair lives. I have this vision that I will procure more albums along with a vessel to house them in. When I consider which albums I want, I think about the ones I had as a teenager in Northern Minnesota in the 80’s. The ones I played over and over again. The ones I donated long ago with the original turntable I got as a present for my birthday (12th or 13th?) from my parents.

Like these:

Mr. NOA’s best friend from college, Kevin (aka my soul brother) visited us last weekend and brought a large collection of albums. Some, he said, are “for keeps” (Hotel California by the Eagles is one of them) and others, he said, are “on loan”. Because he gave up his turntable years ago and isn’t sure when he’ll get another one. Kevin and his wife will be visiting us again soon and I look forward to spinning some vinyl with him then.

He and I joked the other night that if someday we happen to be in the same nursing home together, we would keep the place hopping with our excellent musical taste and deejaying skills. I reminded him of the fantasy I’ve long had of the two of us collaborating on a podcast about all things music. I think that must be put on my list of retirement goals.

Kevin “gifted” me an eclectic variety of albums. For instance, there’s two copies of the soundtrack for the musical “Hair” and two copies of Neil Young’s “Decade” album. There’s one from Kim Carnes and a couple of Glen Campbell and Kris Kristofferson albums in the mix.

I spent some time this afternoon, given it’s Tuesday and my day off from work, sitting on the floor in the rec room looking through all of these records. I’m mostly looking forward to listening to Tom Petty’s “Southern Accents”, all of the multiple Paul Simon and Simon & Garfunkel albums, the Neil Young albums, and the one from the “Traveling Willburys”. And “Hotel California” by the Eagles without a doubt!

The most remarkable thing to me, beyond my brother sharing his treasure trove of music with me, is the loving care he took with them. There are several albums in this collection where Kevin slipped into the clear sleeves newspaper clippings related to the artist. If there ever was someone who could make a living from being a rock and roll music historian, it’d be Kevin.

Photographic Evidence šŸ™‚

Of course I couldn’t possibly end this post with no music clips, so here’s a favorite of mine from “The Firm” (did you know this band only had two albums and was fronted by none other than Jimmy Page from Led Zeppelin and Paul Rogers from Bad Company?). I love the swampiness of this tune…how about you?

Keep on rocking in the free world, folks (while it’s still free)!