Let's Hear It For The Old Boy- It's Keithmas

I feel quite certain that those will be the last roses I pick this year although I could be wrong and as you know, I frequently am. It's going to get cold tomorrow night but we've had several frosts and they're still blooming. 

Gosh. I've got a lot to talk about today. All pretty good stuff. The first thing I'd like to mention is that Rebecca, aka Radish King, aka Best Baker of Sourdough Bread in the world, poet, musician, and all around beloved daughter of the Animal Gods, has reopened the door on her blog for the first time in quite awhile. It's called Summer's End and may be found HERE.

I am so happy to be able to visit with her in this way again. I have missed her writing voice so very much. So- go and see her there yourself. She will welcome you. She is a love.

Ummm...because this blog seems to be more and more about food, I will now post a picture of what our shrimp salad looked like last night. 

This is the shrimp salad that the woman from Norway whom we met in Cozumel in 1987 and who came to live with us for about six months, taught me to make. It is one of our favorites. We will be having leftovers of that tonight along with leftover pizza so supper is basically done. 

Here's a picture that I had to take when I was passing through the laundry room and noticed the way the sun was shining through the delicate little fronds of the maidenhair fern.

The tiny spores on the backs of the fronds were highlighted by the sunlight pouring in through the window. 

I did a little garden weeding this afternoon and was actually chilly when I was in the shade. It felt so good to be out kneeling in the dirt. The turnips are starting to bulb and there are some carrots that, upon doing a little finger-digging, I found to be forming up. 
These things make my heart happy. 

And here's another thing that makes my heart happy- It is Keith Richards' 80th birthday as well as the 40th anniversary of his marriage to his beloved Patti Hansen. 

Some of you may not be aware of my deep (dare I say it?) love for Keith Richards. He is, as Hank pointed out, my spirit totem animal. You can have your wolves and your owls and your eagles. I choose Keith. 

Let us be clear. I never gave much thought at all to Keith Richards for most of my life. I mean- he was a Rolling Stone and I did love the Rolling Stones as almost every single person of my generation did and I give them credit for helping me to learn to own my own sexuality after being abused as a child. I loved the Beatles but it was the Stones who seemed dark and mysterious and dangerous. While the Beatles wanted to hold your hand, the Stones wanted to spend the night together- hugely racy for those days. 

But Mick was the pretty one. God, he was pretty. Keith was just...well. While Mick rooster strutted and said to the crowd, "You wouldn't want me pants to fall down would you?" Keith was just a simmering presence, often bending almost in half to play, his kohl-rimmed eyes never leaving the crowd, and he wore the most outrageous things which I later learned he stole from his girlfriend and partner, Anita Pallenberg, from blouses to scarves to pants. I recently listened to a podcast about an early Stone's USA tour and the guys interviewed, who were there, laughed about how Mick already had a wardrobe person while Keith would just show up wearing a Tibetan prayer flag around his neck and yet- it always worked. 

So. Okay. What I knew about Keith was that he was a junkie and that he had had all of his blood replaced in order to pass a drug test. 
Well, yes, he was a junkie but no, he never had his blood replaced. 

I found that out and many, many other things when I read Richards' memoir, Life, about thirteen years ago. I bought the book on a whim in Costco of all places. I'd heard good things about it and well- why not?

And from the first page I was hooked. Hooked on his story, hooked on him. It's truly an amazing book. It's an accurate and fascinating look-back on the times when the Stones started and beyond. It is the most honest memoir I've ever read. 

Sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Yes. Of course. 
But mostly? 
Music.

Which is what saved his life along with the love the man has for his children, his parents, his life.

And here we are and he is eighty years old and about to go on tour again. Slowly, steadily, over the decades he has let go of his addictions with the exception of music which is his deepest and most abiding fascination. 
He is, in a way, a sort of miracle, our Keith. For so many years when he was young, he was number one on every list of "next rock star to die." 

And yet, he did not die. 
And here he is, all these years later, still very much alive, still very much a musician- a performing musician- with a new album just released, still in the same band with his same lead singer he's had for over sixty years. 

Here's my favorite Keith video, I think. 

 

Obviously, he was in his drug-using days then but he was aware of a threat to his lead singer before security was, unstrapped his guitar, fends off the guy until security does take control, then straps the guitar back on, and begins to play again immediately. 
He has claimed since then that the guitar was still in tune. 

That was rock and roll. That was a rock star. 

But that's not why he's my spirit totem animal. It's because he went through all of that. He lived through all of that. It's because he is the riff-master and and wrote "Satisfaction" in his sleep. It's because he gives credit to every guitar player who ever taught him a lick. It's because he's had the same guitar wrangler and manager for a million years. It's because he once threatened to kill Donald Trump with a knife. It's because he's been married to the same woman for forty years. It's because his kids still love him beyond words. It's because he is who he is and who never tried to be anyone else because he never wanted to be anyone else, and because as he has aged, he has become so  very beautiful. 

There's a terrific documentary on him that streams on Netflix if you'd like to see it. It's called "Under the Influence."

Gold rings on ya, Keith. Happy birthday. Happy anniversary.

Love...Ms. Moon