Monday, November 16, 2020

Dear Milo, I hope there is a god. I know you didn't believe in one, but I think you'd agree with me that we need a god and an afterlife so the criminals that caused this shit-show get some eternal payback.

Thursday, December 08, 2016

Greg Lake Joins Keith Emerson....

Milo, 
I didn't post here when Keith Emerson died, but I was thinking about you, and SO wished I had made you that cape...

CARL PALMER STATEMENT ON THE PASSING OF GREG LAKE
It is with great sadness that I must now say goodbye to my friend and fellow band-mate, Greg Lake.
Greg’s soaring voice and skill as a musician will be remembered by all who knew his music and recordings he made with ELP and King Crimson. I have fond memories of those great years we had in the 1970s and many memorable shows we performed together.
Having lost Keith this year as well, has made this particularly hard for all of us. As Greg sang at the end of Pictures At An Exhibition, “death is life.” His music can now live forever in the hearts of all who loved him.
Carl Palmer
December 8, 2016

Here's Rolling Stone's article on Keith's death:


All and all, this has been a shitty year, and you would probably not be sad that you missed it.

With love,

Ronni

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Happy Birthday, Milo--What's the matter with Kansas?

Happy Birthday, Milo.

I know you didn't believe in any "life" of any kind after death. I can't say you're not right, nor can I say you're wrong.

I do know that I'm reminded of you often--whether by my internal calendar (it seems to alert me to your birthday) or by your music (it's in my "mix") or by the wonders of the night sky, the entertaining behavior of my cats, or the ranting and raving of the regressives that are so anxious to whip our country back a century or two.

I do know that if you were still alive today, you'd be as livid as ever with what's going on in our country--especially the display in Kansas today. The extreme right's "ideals" have gripped Kansas in a breath-halting grip and now the GOP candidates have descended on Kansas like a plague of locusts to continue to whip up a consuming frenzy of hate and oppression that we have not known in this country in many, many years.

I'm relieved you're gone--this would break your patriotic heart. To think the country your father so selflessly served, that the children you and your parents so lovingly taught, the women you respected and loved and the science you revered and embraced have all become pawns of those who seek to control others for their own pleasure.

I'm glad neither of us had children--unless things change a great deal in this decade, there will be nothing left to leave to future generations that won't come with immense pain and suffering. I had hoped that this century we would be able to take the opportunity for better living (medicine, clean water, education and peace) to other places in the world where people still suffer with little. Now I think we're on our way backwards to join them. I'm glad I won't be here for for the next century--it's not looking good.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

This one's for Milo

Milo would have loved this:
'Kraftwerk Who?' Pioneering '50s Synthesizer unearthed in French Barn

Thanks for sharing, Ronni!

Saturday, June 04, 2011

Keep On Keeping On...


Hi Milo. It's been just over a year now.

I wonder if you and Milo Jr. (pictured) know what's happening in your beloved country. If there is something after death--perhaps ultimate truth and knowledge--you might. Perhaps, if if there is, and you're aware of what's going on here, you can pitch in and straighten out some folks still here on the planet who don't have a clue, because we are headed for the edge like a down-bound train and we can use all the enlightenment we can get.

If not, well, it was still nice knowing you. We listen to your music every day. The kitties prr for you. You have a legacy. And we are still fighting the good fight. We sure wish you were here with us, but some days we envy you for not being here as a witness.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Happy Birthday, Milo.

I was thinking about Milo today. It's not unusual, but for the first time, I felt like I could say something coherent about or to Milo. I didn't realize it would have been his 57th birthday today.

Before long it will be a year since I tried to reach Milo by phone and by email, over and over, for more than a week. I knew he'd be traveling and I didn't expect to hear from him for a few days. I had a gift (a book about his favorite creatures--cats) to get into the mail for him, but I'd lost his mailing address so I emailed. He didn't respond but I assumed he was on the road. I called and left a message. For over a week I emailed again, called again, and as you can see I posted here, too. When his voice mail box filled up I found someone, through myspace, I believed knew him, and asked if she could organize a health and welfare check. His closest friend has just passed away, and he was working very hard so, at first, his lack of response seemed due to his work load and stress level. Now I was worried. By the time I called her I'd found an old envelope in the "recycling stack" with his address so I gave it to her and started calling local hospitals while she went to his home.

She called and said his car was in the driveway, but he did not answer and the police were going to break in. I prepared myself, as much as one can, but I still fell apart when she called back to confirm they had found him. Sadly, several of his cats did not survive. They might have if I had called earlier, but how was I to know? His closest friend had just died, and he'd been out of touch with most everyone else lately--I was the only one who noticed. I find it very sad that no one else noticed, but very glad that I did. I'm honored that I was close enough to him in the end, that he shared some very important things with me. Sadly, since I don't know how to contact his surviving relatives (his parents both passed away in recent years and he had no siblings) the secrets I know--those that they should know, too--will never find their way to them.

Ronni came over and, along with my husband, we drank a few toasts to him. We presented her with the cat book my husband had found to send to him, and we shared a few stories. It was strange to memorialize a man we were so close to in spirit, but had never met. Because of his pets, he could never get away long enough to come visit us in Texas, and we were never able to get away from work long enough to go to Kansas.

I learned later--when his ex contacted me--that he had died from a congenital heart defect. A coroner told her that much. She was quite certain that he never knew he had it, and I'm certain she's right.

What's my point? I guess that we miss him, we loved him, and we're so very glad we met him. He had a great love for his country and for all Americans, and it hurt him deeply to see what has happened to the middle class in America, to the educational system in America, and to civil rights for all Americans. I wish he were still here teaching and speaking out, but in a way, I'm glad he is not here to see what is happening to his beloved America. If he'd been here last night witnessing what the GOP has done to teachers and other public workers in Wisconsin, it probably would have killed him.

At least now, I know he died in his sleep, not watching television coverage of the descent of America.

Sunday, October 10, 2010