Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
Reflections on the 20th Anniversary of Loma Prieta:Minimal losses, many gains
When ya ain't got nothin', ya got nothin' to lose.-Bob Dylan
When the earthquake that came to be known as the Loma Prieta quake hit on October 17, 1989, my downtown Berkeley office and living space consisted of 168 square feet. My rent in the rent controlled unit was still less than $200. I was the proud owner of a multicolored 1972 Chevy Van with the dominant color being rust. I was in between relationships. I had a number of friends but nothing serious in the way of commitment. I had a few massage clients and was working part time at the Berkeley Y as a masseur and enjoying a foot loose fancy free kind of life. Nothing changed with the temblor...
When the quake hit, I was giving a massage to Barbara Branaman. In those days, I was providing a fairly vigorous session on mostly clothed clients involving much movement on my part with my eyes closed. I had no idea the quake was hitting until she drew my attention to it. "We are having an earthquake. Perhaps we should move to the door jamb" was her suggestion. We did...
My apartment was on the 2nd level overlooking Don and Reinhard's Auto Service. The door opened onto a walkway much like a Motel 6. As we stood in the jamb, we watched as a car, precariously balanced on a lift, swayed back and forth. Don held onto the side of the garage door frame. Light posts on Addison Street swayed for a number of seconds.
"Wow! That was a big one!", I said.
"Nahhh", was Barbara's response. I found (just today) she thought I was just an East Coaster not familiar with earthquakes. We realized only part of the extent of the damage when we found there was NOTHING on the radio and TV. One of the first reports when the radio came on was the Bay Bridge had collapsed. Fortunately, the report changed quickly to being "just a section" of the bridge had collapsed.
Like I said earlier, I didn't have much nor have much connection to anyone. I was not like Barbara who became very serious and concerned because her husband was in San Francisco working. I was home, safe, with no power outages that would be able to check in with the few folk I knew, fairly quickly, and go on with life, unscathed. The adventure was just beginning.
A Weird Reconnect
Over the past week I have been reflecting on the 20th anniversary of Loma Prieta. I have reached out to a number of folk I knew in those days that are part of mystory with their own stories of this historical event. I found Barbara on Facebook. We had not connected in years. We had a couple of exchanges and that was it.
Mi' lady and I took a walk around Chavez Park, in Berkeley, this evening. Against all odds, I saw and spoke with Barbara on that walk. She was going in one direction and I in the other. After the initial shock and thought it could be her, I turned and called her name. She responded.
I said, "Branaman?"
She said, "Bob?"
Knowing my (non superstitious) love of symbols and signs, mi lady asked what I thought the universe was saying to me, having me cross paths with a person on the eve of an event she was a big part of 20 years ago. I'm pondering it. Because of my current direction, it is like coming full circle to where I started some things I never completed. Back to the Future resonates. Who knows?
The aftermath of the event was different for everybody... I had it r-e-a-l easy which was of benefit to many. That tale is coming up.
Reflections on the 20th Anniversary of Loma Prieta:
Minimal losses, many gains
When ya ain't got nothin', ya got nothin' to lose.
-Bob Dylan
When the earthquake that came to be known as the Loma Prieta quake hit on October 17, 1989, my downtown Berkeley office and living space consisted of 168 square feet. My rent in the rent controlled unit was still less than $200. I was the proud owner of a multicolored 1972 Chevy Van with the dominant color being rust. I was in between relationships. I had a number of friends but nothing serious in the way of commitment. I had a few massage clients and was working part time at the Berkeley Y as a masseur and enjoying a foot loose fancy free kind of life. Nothing changed with the temblor...
When the quake hit, I was giving a massage to Barbara Branaman. In those days, I was providing a fairly vigorous session on mostly clothed clients involving much movement on my part with my eyes closed. I had no idea the quake was hitting until she drew my attention to it. "We are having an earthquake. Perhaps we should move to the door jamb" was her suggestion. We did...
My apartment was on the 2nd level overlooking Don and Reinhard's Auto Service. The door opened onto a walkway much like a Motel 6. As we stood in the jamb, we watched as a car, precariously balanced on a lift, swayed back and forth. Don held onto the side of the garage door frame. Light posts on Addison Street swayed for a number of seconds.
"Wow! That was a big one!", I said.
"Nahhh", was Barbara's response. I found (just today) she thought I was just an East Coaster not familiar with earthquakes. We realized only part of the extent of the damage when we found there was NOTHING on the radio and TV. One of the first reports when the radio came on was the Bay Bridge had collapsed. Fortunately, the report changed quickly to being "just a section" of the bridge had collapsed.
Like I said earlier, I didn't have much nor have much connection to anyone. I was not like Barbara who became very serious and concerned because her husband was in San Francisco working. I was home, safe, with no power outages that would be able to check in with the few folk I knew, fairly quickly, and go on with life, unscathed. The adventure was just beginning.
A Weird Reconnect
Over the past week I have been reflecting on the 20th anniversary of Loma Prieta. I have reached out to a number of folk I knew in those days that are part of mystory with their own stories of this historical event. I found Barbara on Facebook. We had not connected in years. We had a couple of exchanges and that was it.
Mi' lady and I took a walk around Chavez Park, in Berkeley, this evening. Against all odds, I saw and spoke with Barbara on that walk. She was going in one direction and I in the other. After the initial shock and thought it could be her, I turned and called her name. She responded.
I said, "Branaman?"
She said, "Bob?"
Knowing my (non superstitious) love of symbols and signs, mi lady asked what I thought the universe was saying to me, having me cross paths with a person on the eve of an event she was a big part of 20 years ago. I'm pondering it. Because of my current direction, it is like coming full circle to where I started some things I never completed. Back to the Future resonates. Who knows?
The aftermath of the event was different for everybody... I had it r-e-a-l easy which was of benefit to many. That tale is coming up.
Try To Stay At Home
Loma Prieta Day Two and Three
The cantilever section of the Oakland/SF Bay Bridge had collapsed. A section of the Nimitz Freeway had collapsed killing many people. The October 17 quake had made a mess of things for those dependent on their automobiles, out of necessity or convenience. Government officials pleaded with people to NOT drive their cars. Most complied.
After calling around cancelling the rest of my schedule or receiving calls cancelling appointments, I hopped into my car and headed out of town.
Much to my wondering eyes did appear a virtually empty Hwy 80. Even in the dead of night, I had never seen so few cars on the road as there were that day. It was much like scenes in the History Channel series, 'Life After People', except a few had survived. It was like that until approaching Napa, CA enroute to Harbin Hot Springs. What better way to get out of the turmoil of an earthquake than to go soak in warm water pools at a clothing optional retreat center?
I was far from the only person that escaped the city for Harbin. In one of the function rooms folk got together to relate their experience of the event. One got stuck in the tube on BART. Another had lost their car in a pile of rubble. The stories were incredible. Fortunately, not one of those that made it to Harbin ever felt as though their life was in danger. The BART survivor set up the room much like a BART car and had us role play the quake as she had experienced it. My personal story paled by comparison, but once they knew what I did for a living, I was talked into providing some stress relief which was merely a warm up for what was to come.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
A Resurrection Time prayer and sermon
(This is the 25th anniversary of my attending Glide Memorial Methodist Church for the first time. I don't go to Glide much anymore but continue to be thankful for their presence. The following was written in 1999.)
Heavenly Father, Mother, Friend, Beloved God... Jesus Christ, Dr Ling, Ida
Rolf, Milton Trager, Moshe Feldenkrais, Thomas Hanna, Loren Berry, Lani Ross,
Margaret Elke saints and sages of all bodywork modalities, I humbly bow to
you all... Please direct your energies through those who have entered into
the realms of touch leaving them with just a speck of your learned knowledge
and gained wisdom so they are more able to carry on the work which you
started and so generously left behind for us to carry on. Leave behind the
wisdom you gained as a starting point for us to begin from. Constantly
remind us, it is not how the work is done, it is the work being done free of
restriction enabling us to do the work as we see it from, as was the case
with you, our individual path. Remind us we are mere bubbles on a sea of
cosmic consciousness separated by the thin case of ego and help us break
those cases and become one with each other. Ohmmmm.. Peace.. Shanti..
Amen..
A Sermon...
Cecil Williams, the minister of Glide Memorial Methodist Church, in SF, is a
Libertarian Theologian in the vein of Paul Tillich who wrote a book called,
'The Courage To be'. Glide Memorial is in the heart of downtown SF, in the
middle of the Tenderloin, the red light district and where one can find one
drug of choice. The ol' Boston combat zone and the ol' Times Square, pales
by comparison.
I found Cecil and Glide by way of the entertainment section of the SF
Chonicle, on the Saturday prior to Easter, in 1984. 1984 was the second
worst year of my life up 'til that time. I had been totally burned out in a
fire, 5 hours into the new year and the year went downhill from there. I had
my health. Anyone who has had illness knows things are not all that bad if
one has their health. My worst year was sickness, in 78.. Other than a
wedding a few years before, I had not been in a church for over 10 years.
Having made it that far into '84, I thought it appropriate to give thanks to
what ever powers that be. I went because the Datebook(entertainment section)
advertised a Jazz Sunrise Celebration. What better way to celebrate an
Easter than by taking in a Jazz celebration? I was brought up Pentecostal
and Methodist. I knew many churches had moved to folk services and such in
their efforts to bring back the youth that had gone astray but, what I walked
into was totally outside of my frame of reference. The place was ROCKIN'..
I had never experienced anything like it. It was a true celebration of life.
6AM and the church was damned near full of people, dancin' and singin'. The
diversity was astounding. It was RESURRECTION TIME only I didn't know I was
being put on a path leading me to what would be my own resurrection.
Long ago, Cecil Williams removed the cross from the altar and said to the
aging congregation, "One does not need to be reminded of the cross. The
people outside these doors are carrying the cross." From the windows of
Glide he could look down and see his people(black) self-destructing on crack
cocaine. He stopped calling Easter, Easter and called it Resurrection Time.
Resurrection Time is when one lets a part of ones self die and lets ones self
come back in a cleaner, healthier form free of what ever addiction one has
killed off.
I was so moved by the sunrise service I stayed, served food to some of the
4500 people Glide would serve food too and stayed for the 9AM service. The
balcony filled for the 9AM service. Cecil was "hot". One 'standing O' after
another as he hammered the Resurrection theme home. The Resurrection Band(no
organ in this church) seemed to be even hotter than they were at 6AM. The
Glide Ensemble(no choir at Glide) was totally soulful.. I met my first Glide
friend who said, "If you think the 9 was good, stay for the 11". I did.
Between the 9 & 11 services, in a park across the street, they had an urban
Easter Egg hunt for the kids. What made this hunt so unique was Cecil giving
thanks to the city for allowing the park to be used for the hunt and giving
thanks to those volunteers who, overnight, had made the park clean of
hypodermic needles and broken class so the park was safe for the kids to do
the hunt. The kids were mostly Asian and black... It was a sight to see. I
was told it was a real zoo scene because many of the kids were poverty
stricken and were told to get as many eggs as possible for survival. One
could see from the frantic nature of the hunt that for many it probably was a
chance to have extra food. The hunt was over only minutes after the hunt
began. Some of the kids did not even get into the park before all the eggs
were gone.
11AM: Standing room only... The aisles were jammed. Folk were sitting on
the window sills, on other peoples laps. It was wall to wall humanity of
every race, every religous persuasion, every sexual preference, every level
of society as we know it, from the disenfranchised street person and hooker
to the founder of Espirit.. From ragss to minks.. All under one roof.
Cecil is a master at working the crowd. "I know most states are represented
in todays crowd but, what about countries?" India, Japan, France, Germany
came the shouts... Shout if you are HINDU.. BUDDHIST... on and on.. For
EVERYBODY.. IT'S RESURRECTION TIME!!! Cecil was hot...
Paul Tillich writes, "Courage is strength of mind, capable of conquering
whatever threatens the attainment of the highest good. Courage, united with
wisdom, includes temperance in relation to oneself as well as justice in
relation to others". .
I do not remember what Cecil quoted from Tillich, that day, but, whatever it
was, it spurred me on to read some of Tillichs' writings... I have the tape
of that 11AM service as a reminder as to why I did not go back to Glide until
Christmas of that year and then did not go back until Easter, of '85. At
that 11AM service, Cecil spoke to me.. It was like he took me by the collar
and shook me. His words struck home. scaring the living hell out of me... I
had little courage at that time... I didn't have the strength to do much more
than survive and wallow in the muck and mire of a life made difficult, by
choice. Too much smoke.. Too much drink.. Too much of many other things..
Life was difficult... He was telling me that that day but, I was not yet
ready to hear it. He was crazy.
On Christmas of '84, he spoke of the immaculate conception in the context of
having read a good story in a good book. If you want to believe it was an
immaculate conception, go ahead.. Christ is the son of Man.. He spoke of
Unconditional Love and how many people are unable to receive that love. He
spoke of the Christ in terms of humanitarianism... He was crazy and not the
type of person I wanted to deal with or listen to.. I bought the tape and
went home.
I met Gale on Easter Sunday, 1985... We hit it off and became friends.. Gale
was a bodyworker... We put our heads together and put together a class
called 'Turning It Upside Down' and taught it at what Glide was calling
University of the Streets... It was for those caught up in the layoffs and
downsizing of the 80's.. How to get started again.. I ran Bay to Breakers(6
1/2 miles) and then rode my bike across town on one of the Sundays we were to
teach that workshop. I was too sore to teach/ She layed me on a conference
table and within twenty minutes had worked my legs giving me the feeling I
had not done much exertion at all.. I was familiar with massage via
receiving at the Cambridge Y, in the 70's and early 80's but had nothing like
what she did... It was a time for Resurrection...
I volunteered at Glide doing a number of things. I became a Big Brother to a
few ghetto kids and taught them how to garden. There has been nothing to
match the look on those kids faces as they handed the harvest to their
mothers.. Visiting shut-ins was a favorite... The Glide programs encompass
most anything one wants to be involved in... It was through the Glide
experience I gained the courage to do what had to be done.
It' s 15 years Sunday since first attending Glide. I have missed one Easter
visit.. Resurrection Time is my time of year. I give up something. I let
something die. I forgive myself or someone for something and try to
resurrect what was before what needed to be forgiven(I have yet to learn full
forget).
On Good Friday, I do the First Presbyterian Church in Berkeley.. They
recreate what is called the service of the Tennebrae. It is a ritualistic
mass steeped in mysticism spiritualism taken from the Early Catholic
Church... It gives one the chance to experience how the church could get so
much power over the masses... It leaves one in awe...
In closing... Last year I took in the Easter service at Montclair
Presbyterian Church in Oakland.. I ended up there because Glide did not
serve me at the sunrise service. Cecil was on vacation and the service
consisted solely of song. I need to hear the message of the "spirit" of
Easter. The minister was in her first year, replacing a long ministry by a
relatively conservative Presbyterian male. It was the anniversary of her
mothers death..
She told of her days in a ministry in Argentina during the days when many
people were "disappeared" by the Allende forces. She told how during
meetings when people felt the absense of the "disappeared", a ritual would be
performed. The master of ceremonies would start by invoking the name of a
"disappeared" person and the crowd would shout, "PRESENTE'".. She started by
invoking the name of her Mother and some shouted, "PRESENTE".. The names
flowed.. One invocation after another.. ":PRESENTE" resounded louder with
each name... When it was apparent the invoking was done she said, "Who does
not feel how full this chapel is, NOW?" One could hear the sobs of those
touched by spirit or in this case many spirits.
SO, I suggest to you, especially if you are feeling alone or lonely, invoke
some names.. Get one person close to you to help bear witness. Between you
and that one other, you may be able to fill a room with some much needed
energy and support to carry you through whatever difficulties you may be
going through.. Hey folks.. It is always RESURRECTION TIME...
Rev Robert Flammia
btw... To hell with the kids.. KEEP THE CHOCOLATE FOR YOURSELVES..
HAPPY EASTER..
Roberto
(This is the 25th anniversary of my attending Glide Memorial Methodist Church for the first time. I don't go to Glide much anymore but continue to be thankful for their presence. The following was written in 1999.)
Heavenly Father, Mother, Friend, Beloved God... Jesus Christ, Dr Ling, Ida
Rolf, Milton Trager, Moshe Feldenkrais, Thomas Hanna, Loren Berry, Lani Ross,
Margaret Elke saints and sages of all bodywork modalities, I humbly bow to
you all... Please direct your energies through those who have entered into
the realms of touch leaving them with just a speck of your learned knowledge
and gained wisdom so they are more able to carry on the work which you
started and so generously left behind for us to carry on. Leave behind the
wisdom you gained as a starting point for us to begin from. Constantly
remind us, it is not how the work is done, it is the work being done free of
restriction enabling us to do the work as we see it from, as was the case
with you, our individual path. Remind us we are mere bubbles on a sea of
cosmic consciousness separated by the thin case of ego and help us break
those cases and become one with each other. Ohmmmm.. Peace.. Shanti..
Amen..
A Sermon...
Cecil Williams, the minister of Glide Memorial Methodist Church, in SF, is a
Libertarian Theologian in the vein of Paul Tillich who wrote a book called,
'The Courage To be'. Glide Memorial is in the heart of downtown SF, in the
middle of the Tenderloin, the red light district and where one can find one
drug of choice. The ol' Boston combat zone and the ol' Times Square, pales
by comparison.
I found Cecil and Glide by way of the entertainment section of the SF
Chonicle, on the Saturday prior to Easter, in 1984. 1984 was the second
worst year of my life up 'til that time. I had been totally burned out in a
fire, 5 hours into the new year and the year went downhill from there. I had
my health. Anyone who has had illness knows things are not all that bad if
one has their health. My worst year was sickness, in 78.. Other than a
wedding a few years before, I had not been in a church for over 10 years.
Having made it that far into '84, I thought it appropriate to give thanks to
what ever powers that be. I went because the Datebook(entertainment section)
advertised a Jazz Sunrise Celebration. What better way to celebrate an
Easter than by taking in a Jazz celebration? I was brought up Pentecostal
and Methodist. I knew many churches had moved to folk services and such in
their efforts to bring back the youth that had gone astray but, what I walked
into was totally outside of my frame of reference. The place was ROCKIN'..
I had never experienced anything like it. It was a true celebration of life.
6AM and the church was damned near full of people, dancin' and singin'. The
diversity was astounding. It was RESURRECTION TIME only I didn't know I was
being put on a path leading me to what would be my own resurrection.
Long ago, Cecil Williams removed the cross from the altar and said to the
aging congregation, "One does not need to be reminded of the cross. The
people outside these doors are carrying the cross." From the windows of
Glide he could look down and see his people(black) self-destructing on crack
cocaine. He stopped calling Easter, Easter and called it Resurrection Time.
Resurrection Time is when one lets a part of ones self die and lets ones self
come back in a cleaner, healthier form free of what ever addiction one has
killed off.
I was so moved by the sunrise service I stayed, served food to some of the
4500 people Glide would serve food too and stayed for the 9AM service. The
balcony filled for the 9AM service. Cecil was "hot". One 'standing O' after
another as he hammered the Resurrection theme home. The Resurrection Band(no
organ in this church) seemed to be even hotter than they were at 6AM. The
Glide Ensemble(no choir at Glide) was totally soulful.. I met my first Glide
friend who said, "If you think the 9 was good, stay for the 11". I did.
Between the 9 & 11 services, in a park across the street, they had an urban
Easter Egg hunt for the kids. What made this hunt so unique was Cecil giving
thanks to the city for allowing the park to be used for the hunt and giving
thanks to those volunteers who, overnight, had made the park clean of
hypodermic needles and broken class so the park was safe for the kids to do
the hunt. The kids were mostly Asian and black... It was a sight to see. I
was told it was a real zoo scene because many of the kids were poverty
stricken and were told to get as many eggs as possible for survival. One
could see from the frantic nature of the hunt that for many it probably was a
chance to have extra food. The hunt was over only minutes after the hunt
began. Some of the kids did not even get into the park before all the eggs
were gone.
11AM: Standing room only... The aisles were jammed. Folk were sitting on
the window sills, on other peoples laps. It was wall to wall humanity of
every race, every religous persuasion, every sexual preference, every level
of society as we know it, from the disenfranchised street person and hooker
to the founder of Espirit.. From ragss to minks.. All under one roof.
Cecil is a master at working the crowd. "I know most states are represented
in todays crowd but, what about countries?" India, Japan, France, Germany
came the shouts... Shout if you are HINDU.. BUDDHIST... on and on.. For
EVERYBODY.. IT'S RESURRECTION TIME!!! Cecil was hot...
Paul Tillich writes, "Courage is strength of mind, capable of conquering
whatever threatens the attainment of the highest good. Courage, united with
wisdom, includes temperance in relation to oneself as well as justice in
relation to others". .
I do not remember what Cecil quoted from Tillich, that day, but, whatever it
was, it spurred me on to read some of Tillichs' writings... I have the tape
of that 11AM service as a reminder as to why I did not go back to Glide until
Christmas of that year and then did not go back until Easter, of '85. At
that 11AM service, Cecil spoke to me.. It was like he took me by the collar
and shook me. His words struck home. scaring the living hell out of me... I
had little courage at that time... I didn't have the strength to do much more
than survive and wallow in the muck and mire of a life made difficult, by
choice. Too much smoke.. Too much drink.. Too much of many other things..
Life was difficult... He was telling me that that day but, I was not yet
ready to hear it. He was crazy.
On Christmas of '84, he spoke of the immaculate conception in the context of
having read a good story in a good book. If you want to believe it was an
immaculate conception, go ahead.. Christ is the son of Man.. He spoke of
Unconditional Love and how many people are unable to receive that love. He
spoke of the Christ in terms of humanitarianism... He was crazy and not the
type of person I wanted to deal with or listen to.. I bought the tape and
went home.
I met Gale on Easter Sunday, 1985... We hit it off and became friends.. Gale
was a bodyworker... We put our heads together and put together a class
called 'Turning It Upside Down' and taught it at what Glide was calling
University of the Streets... It was for those caught up in the layoffs and
downsizing of the 80's.. How to get started again.. I ran Bay to Breakers(6
1/2 miles) and then rode my bike across town on one of the Sundays we were to
teach that workshop. I was too sore to teach/ She layed me on a conference
table and within twenty minutes had worked my legs giving me the feeling I
had not done much exertion at all.. I was familiar with massage via
receiving at the Cambridge Y, in the 70's and early 80's but had nothing like
what she did... It was a time for Resurrection...
I volunteered at Glide doing a number of things. I became a Big Brother to a
few ghetto kids and taught them how to garden. There has been nothing to
match the look on those kids faces as they handed the harvest to their
mothers.. Visiting shut-ins was a favorite... The Glide programs encompass
most anything one wants to be involved in... It was through the Glide
experience I gained the courage to do what had to be done.
It' s 15 years Sunday since first attending Glide. I have missed one Easter
visit.. Resurrection Time is my time of year. I give up something. I let
something die. I forgive myself or someone for something and try to
resurrect what was before what needed to be forgiven(I have yet to learn full
forget).
On Good Friday, I do the First Presbyterian Church in Berkeley.. They
recreate what is called the service of the Tennebrae. It is a ritualistic
mass steeped in mysticism spiritualism taken from the Early Catholic
Church... It gives one the chance to experience how the church could get so
much power over the masses... It leaves one in awe...
In closing... Last year I took in the Easter service at Montclair
Presbyterian Church in Oakland.. I ended up there because Glide did not
serve me at the sunrise service. Cecil was on vacation and the service
consisted solely of song. I need to hear the message of the "spirit" of
Easter. The minister was in her first year, replacing a long ministry by a
relatively conservative Presbyterian male. It was the anniversary of her
mothers death..
She told of her days in a ministry in Argentina during the days when many
people were "disappeared" by the Allende forces. She told how during
meetings when people felt the absense of the "disappeared", a ritual would be
performed. The master of ceremonies would start by invoking the name of a
"disappeared" person and the crowd would shout, "PRESENTE'".. She started by
invoking the name of her Mother and some shouted, "PRESENTE".. The names
flowed.. One invocation after another.. ":PRESENTE" resounded louder with
each name... When it was apparent the invoking was done she said, "Who does
not feel how full this chapel is, NOW?" One could hear the sobs of those
touched by spirit or in this case many spirits.
SO, I suggest to you, especially if you are feeling alone or lonely, invoke
some names.. Get one person close to you to help bear witness. Between you
and that one other, you may be able to fill a room with some much needed
energy and support to carry you through whatever difficulties you may be
going through.. Hey folks.. It is always RESURRECTION TIME...
Rev Robert Flammia
btw... To hell with the kids.. KEEP THE CHOCOLATE FOR YOURSELVES..
HAPPY EASTER..
Roberto
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Remembering Massage Magazine founder, Robert Calvert with a gift of roses
(Clicking on the above headline will take you to an obituary.)
I wrote recently in a post noting the 10th anniversary of my defunct newsletter 'The Rub', "I connected with some incredible folk I would not have had the opportunity or reason to connect with." Robert Calvert, founder of Massage Magazine, is one of those incredible folk. I thanked him when he was alive and now I would like to let you know the impact he had on me.
My first brush with Massage Magazine and Robert was when I, without thinking, published the Massage Magazine logo in a newsletter I was working with, in 1995. Robert educated me regarding copyright laws and how to garner permissions for materials I wanted to publish.
After leaving AMTA and launching The Rub, I was told Robert may be a good resource as well as a valuable sympathizer. He was. His interests in serving the massage community led to his helping on a number of levels including mailing lists and some funding. He also helped with suggestions as to how to soften my approach which, unfortunately, did not come until it was too late.
His desire for equitable providing of massage and alternative services led to his supporting a booth at a League of Cities Conference in Boston, in 2000, and later serving on the board of directors of the National Health Freedom Coalition.
Robert believed massage was one of those things that could be rendered anywhere at anytime and on more than one occassion provided, to those in opposition to the licensing of massage, a more accurate history of the events that has led to the AMTA spawned NCBTMB being a measure of competence to do the work. He insisted on remaining anonymous for obvious reasons.
I met Robert only once at the Anatriptic Conference in San Francisco, in 2002. Although I had not published an issue of 'The Rub' in two years he extended me the professional courtesy of a free admission for the conference. Robert was on my list of those I am thanking and presenting virtual roses for being a part of my 20 years in this trade. I wish he were here to receive them.
My sincerest sympathies are extended to the immediate family and close friends. The field of massage has truly lost a good man.
Friday, December 23, 2005
Roses to Billy Crystal for '700 Sundays' : A 20th Anniversary celebration of service..
Over the 12 days of Christmas and beyond, I will distribute virtual roses to many folk that have contributed to my success or have caused me grief over my 20 years of providing touch. Both groups of folk are a part of my story. Both groups have been resources for growth. Virtual roses and a few words are mere tokens of appreciation I wish to bestow on those who have crossed my path, impacted me negatively (at the time) or positively and are memorable stories along my path.
"Billy Crystal's life-defining work, '700 Sundays,' processes his loss and opens doors for the rest of us", is the heading of the piece about 700 Sundays at the link above. After seeing his show, I do feel like the door is opened for the rest of us. At a later point in time I may do the same thing Billy did with the earlier part of my life. Trust me! I have no dreams of grandeur and much of the writing will be more for my benefit than anyone else caring to read the words. For opening the door, Billy gets roses.
For impacting me with his story telling (we do have a lot in common) and motivating me to tell my story rather than just distribute roses Billy gets my heart felt thanks as well as a one hour Flammia Touch session. The gift is conditional. All I ask in return is a picture of us shaking hands. By appointment only.
Billy could hear about my offer. The six degrees of connectedness theory could work in this case. I gave an oral review of '700 Sundays' at a Toastmasters meeting. One of the folk at the meeting went to school with the daughters of Billy Crystal. At the end of the meeting, the fellow shared his enthusiasm about Billy Crystal because Billy delivered the commencement address at his high school graduation. Maybe he will let Billy Crystal's daughter know about this offer.
Over my 20 years of providing the service of touch, I have donated many sessions as door prizes or drawings, silent auctions and as perks to those who volunteer for agencies I would donate to if I were wealthy. I have volunteered many hours of service and have offered free sessions to many folk I have honored, respected and appreciated for their contributions to humanity. In a future post, I will tell of an offer that put me in a hot seat.
Next: From PLA to CMP
Over the 12 days of Christmas and beyond, I will distribute virtual roses to many folk that have contributed to my success or have caused me grief over my 20 years of providing touch. Both groups of folk are a part of my story. Both groups have been resources for growth. Virtual roses and a few words are mere tokens of appreciation I wish to bestow on those who have crossed my path, impacted me negatively (at the time) or positively and are memorable stories along my path.
"Billy Crystal's life-defining work, '700 Sundays,' processes his loss and opens doors for the rest of us", is the heading of the piece about 700 Sundays at the link above. After seeing his show, I do feel like the door is opened for the rest of us. At a later point in time I may do the same thing Billy did with the earlier part of my life. Trust me! I have no dreams of grandeur and much of the writing will be more for my benefit than anyone else caring to read the words. For opening the door, Billy gets roses.
For impacting me with his story telling (we do have a lot in common) and motivating me to tell my story rather than just distribute roses Billy gets my heart felt thanks as well as a one hour Flammia Touch session. The gift is conditional. All I ask in return is a picture of us shaking hands. By appointment only.
Billy could hear about my offer. The six degrees of connectedness theory could work in this case. I gave an oral review of '700 Sundays' at a Toastmasters meeting. One of the folk at the meeting went to school with the daughters of Billy Crystal. At the end of the meeting, the fellow shared his enthusiasm about Billy Crystal because Billy delivered the commencement address at his high school graduation. Maybe he will let Billy Crystal's daughter know about this offer.
Over my 20 years of providing the service of touch, I have donated many sessions as door prizes or drawings, silent auctions and as perks to those who volunteer for agencies I would donate to if I were wealthy. I have volunteered many hours of service and have offered free sessions to many folk I have honored, respected and appreciated for their contributions to humanity. In a future post, I will tell of an offer that put me in a hot seat.
Next: From PLA to CMP
