Dear Breakfast Clubbers, Jan. 2010

Tis time to move on past the Christmas theme and join the world of whatever. I have a few really good email jokes but they will be passed on when I get old and don’t care about my reputation.

Just watched, “Bridges” again with Jan. She is such a romantic. Has read the book many times and has seen the movie whenever possible. I relate to the scene where Meryl puts pressure on the door opener in the car, pressing with reluctant strength to open and run to her new found love. Life is sometimes determined by such an itty bit of pressure or time or guts or whatever.

Son, Bob, was in the Georgia song flute class after a year with trumpet in the Michigan school. The teacher had six students stand in front of him and play the flutes. He would point to those he wanted in band while the others were put aside. The group of six Bob was in were all told to leave. Bob, a shy little boy, found the courage to say he had had a year of trumpet class already. The teacher made the exception and allowed him entry in the band. Bob was All State with the trumpet in Georgia more than once. He graduated from Northwestern in Music Performance. He worked his way up through the ranks to second in the Minnesota Orchestra, now known as one of the best symphony orchestras in the country. He has played in Carnegie, Vienna, Hiroshima, and many other places all over the world. A shy squeak changed his life.

I visited my older brother and was allowed to talk freely with him before he became too weak. He told of my mother telling him of the, Brough history, my mother’s family. Her father was the son or grandson of a Native American woman and her husband. They were from Vermont and one of my distant relatives was in the Green Mountain Boys Army of Vermont. They fought in the Revolutionary War and my and Bob’s relative was the bugler for the group. Put that in your hat. If I were a woman I would be eligible for membership in the Daughters of the American Revolution. I didn’t even make the Boy Scouts. Couldn’t memorize their commandments or whatever they called them.

Think of the times you have had life altered by a circumstance. I’ll bet some of you had a choice and picked the wrong partner when the right one was smiling at you contemplating a life of ecstasy with lots of Bon Bons and juleps. Cleaned that up, didn’t I.

The Chelsea Gallery is no more. The powers of the past rendered art to the back seat for sure. Just talked to an artist friend. He had work in five galleries and all have gone under. Times do change. Is it for the better? Jan was there at the right time with the right talent and the right helper. She was allowed to do what she loved most and still made a living for all of us. Yes, we helped but she was the diva.

Times are getting tougher around here. We do our best but it is tough. Did do something right for a change and kept our Toronto stock. It was just bought out and we did well. Now I will diversify but still have fun with the market. I do love learning new things. Jan says, “Oh, what next do we have coming?” Sometimes it’s good but sometimes not so good.

I’m feeling quite straight tonight. I wrote Christmas eve and feel it was too personal to pass on to the untold multitude reading this thing. Sent it to a few and got don’t print and yes print and a few wishing some alterations.

Please help this country find peace and forgiveness of self and others.

Love gil