Cantique de Noel aka O Holy Night sung by Pavarotti

press play and close your eyes:

The music was written by Adolphe Charles Adam (1803-1856), a French composer best known for his ballet "Giselle." The lyrics were written by Placide Cappeau de Roquemaure in 1847. At the time, it was frowned upon by church authorities who denounced it for lack of musical taste and "total absence of the spirit of religion." I like the last verse:

Truly He taught us to love one another;

His law is love and His gospel is peace.

Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother;

And in His name all oppression shall cease.

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,

Let all within us praise His holy name.

Merry Christmas.

Cuts Like a Knife - Bryan Adams

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Cuts Like A Knife....

For my surgeon, I'm sure my procedure was very routine. Compared to other operations he did Tuesday, my ACDF (anterior cervical discectomy with fusion) was like an electrician fixing two sockets that were shorting, not like replacing the wiring in a whole house. But for the patient, it was a fairly big deal. Waiting, draw blood, EKG, waiting, gown and silly socks, waiting, IV, waiting, answering the same questions over and over. They must have asked me 7 times, "what are you having done today?" in order to make sure they didn't take out my spleen or amputate my leg or something. By the time the surgeon and the anesthesiologist came to see me I had it down, "ACDF, through the neck, C5-C6 & C6-C7, take out the disks, put in a cage full of cadaver bones and my marrow (from my hip), put a plate across the vertebrae, and we're out." Then the doctor wrote on the left side of my neck and off they took me. On the right is an xray (not mine) of what it looks like now.

It got me thinking a lot about how amazing it is that people had surgery 100+ years ago, and lived, much less were "cured." Battlefields, disgusting facilities, etc. Even 60 years ago, when my grandparents had back surgery, they were in full body casts for three months. And I was sending notes from my BlackBerry within 48 hrs.

And then I realized that for most people in the world, the medical standards of 1950's America would be a significant improvement. It makes the projects we have on the GlobalGiving site focused on safe health treatment even more resonant for me. Our health care system may suck by some standards, but I tell you what, we've got it pretty damn good.

And it sure was nice to get to pick the music I listened to off the doctor's Ipod in the operating room. Bruce Springsteen, Badlands, was playing as I drifted off. I asked for the "The Rising" but they thought that was too grim.

Naive Melody, aka "Home" - Talking Heads

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I just finished the last of several short trips taken during the last couple of months. Destinations included Northern California, Chicago, Cleveland, New York, Indianapolis and, most recently, London England. I returned from London a couple of days ago having royally messed up my neck. The last two days have been aided by Vicodin. Is this what House takes? Hard to imagine how he can pop two of these (he's always popping two pills at a time) and do his life-saving work.

But I digress from the title/point of this post. Do I? Does it have a point? Home. I have noticed that often when I am away, I have a strange anxiety...is it to be "home?" And what is home? Sometimes I consider California home. Sometimes Maryland/DC. Sometimes being with Debbie, or being with Meredith & gang, or being with the birth family. Sometimes it's just a sense of being that is independent from other people. And of course at Fannie Mae we were "showing America a new way home." Did we mean it literally? Hmm.

Songwriters have written about "home" forever, often metaphorically:

Michael Buble: Another winter day has come and gone away, in even paris and rome, and I wanna go home
Daughtry: I don't regret this life I chose for me, But these places and these faces are getting old, So I'm going home.
Jack Johnson: I try to understand, what I can't hold in my hand, and where ever we are, home is there too
Bonnie Raitt: And Home, Sings me of sweet things, My life there has it's own wings
To fly over the mountains, Though I'm standing still
Talking Heads: Home, is where I want to be, but I guess I'm already there.

So this bodes the question...is home a place or a state of mind? Yes, I say, yes!

Thoughts?

YES WE CAN

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsV2O4fCgjk

Start Me Up - Do you have as much energy as Mick?

Start Me Up - Rolling Stones



I was chatting with my mom yesterday. She's been calling a lot to check on my "condition." This has to do with a herniated disc I am dealing with at the moment. During the conversation we got to talking about the amount of energy it takes to live life...and how some people have an abundance of it, while others need periodic (daily, or vacation-y) rejuvenation periods. And yet others have an abundance of energy even in the face of adversity and, let's face it, age.

I was reminded of this conversation this morning when my alarm went off at 6:30 am and the thought crossed my mind that maybe I wouldn't get up, shower and get on the metro. But I was determined to go root on my Women's Foundation friends who were running the Marine Corps 10k. (I was supposed to be running too, but did I mention I have a ruptured disc? )

Granted Lisa and Julie are 14 and 22 years younger than I am, but it still is impressive for anyone to get up before dawn on a weekend and plod the 6.3 or 26 miles that 20,000 people ran, jogged, walked, and cranked today. Cranked? Yep, cranked. The most amazing thing about going to a race like this is seeing all the people who not only have the energy, but the fight, to get up before the crack of dawn, strap on their prosthetic leg or have their buddies lower them into their wheelchair or "hand-crank" bike, and go for it.

As I stood waiting to wave my little sign for Lisa and Julie I watched the winner of the wheelchair category power by...

And then a guy with a titanium leg, from the knee down, cruised by - ahead of both my friends.

Those guys have energy. And fight. Here's to them.

Gimme Some Truth - Jakob Dylan (for John McCain)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bZbzRyd3Q3o

I do not profess to be a hero, and I do respect the men and women who choose to serve our country and put themselves in harms way.

BUT my frustration over John McCain's abuse of his military record is boiling over into downright anger. How many times did we hear during the Republican Convention that he was a "war hero?" How many times did we hear the story of his capture, torture, bravery, etc? How many times will Sarah Palin say, "he's the only person running for president who truly knows what it means to sacrifice for our country?" And how many GD times have we heard - and will we hear - "Country First."

What a load of crap. Please, read this Rolling Stone story that sheds light on the true military record and experience of John McCain. It's more the story of a mean, bratty Seth Rogen in a uniform than Tom Cruise in TopGun.

Who's Your Partridge Family? - "I Think I Love You"

Press Play and enjoy:


On Friday night my friend Lisa went to see New Kids on the Block. I can't even tell you one song by "New Kids" but Lisa, I'm sure, sang along to every song as if it were 1992...16 years ago. Lisa is 30 years old. When I asked her who was at the concert she said, "pretty much a bunch of 30 year old women."

So it got me thinking about my early musical immersion and what inspired the same level of enthusiasm for me when I was coming of age. And while there were a lot of choices from my early teens, it was definitely at an earlier age that I first became obsessed with a band. It was The Partridge Family, whose TV show I never missed, that filled that role for me when I was 8-12 years old.

I wanted desperately to be Laurie Partridge. OK, let's be honest. I had a wicked crush on Susan Dey, who played Laurie Partridge...but I didn't know that then. I played the back of the couch (aka piano) while my friends air-banded their roles as Keith, Danny, Shirley and the rest of the gang.

The Partridge Family is broadly mocked these days, but the truth is that they had some very highly regarded songwriters and musicians working with them. Shirley Jones, for god's sake, is an icon. And now we all know that Danny Bonaduce was destined for infamy.

To this day, I believe I could sing every song they recorded. Just like Lisa can sing all those New Kid songs.

What's your Partridge Family?

ps: have you noticed how the GlobalGiving birds are like the PF ones?