In 2010 on this day

In 2010 on this day Peter, exited his body suddenly, without warning notification of any kind. I sat on a haystack in front of Whole Foods with pumpkins, lovely autumn harvest,golds and orange cinnamon.

Whole foods was closing so I waited outside for Peter to pick me up. I still wait sometimes... Then I call an uber and continue on to my next destination.

I wish you all the love I have ever had, my dear ones

Autumn lady

It's Peter's Birthday

It's Peter's birthday
Most people think I'm fine and I am, in case you were wondering, except for the life inside.
Peter passed away October 26, 2010 and it's 2016 February 23 his birthday~now I no longer expect him to come through the door, or sense he is waiting for me outside the shop or the hairdressers. Hearing his voice doesn't happen as much and only occasionally do I get angry at '’How could he have left me like that???’ So many mysteries.
He is somewhere else ~that absolute elsewhere and I am still here. Death has moved in. Death and I talk sometimes. And I say no not yet.. Not yet! I have life. Places to go, people to see~ You, you go to the other room! There are these songs that millions of people haven't heard, I cannot desert the living... Not yet, A need to set the record straight, help make human rights a reality
think about planting a Spring garden, 
There is still work for me to do~ 
I need to walk in a shallow creek up to my knees
And collect stones, ones with beings in them and smooth ones, to paint. 
Come to terms with Melanie
and the authentic self
So Death, I know you're here but just go wait in that old cupboard I hardly ever open. We'll just remember Peter's birthday ~forget about the sorrow, regret and out create it.
Ah, birth and death, neither ever goes away, and we are all participants, like it or not
So… it seems so simple
as we are all in this together~
Seek the highest good and be kind. Let's just do that, it's a good way to remember
Today and for always

The Elusiveness of Christmas


In Astoria, Queens, the bathtub was just that, a bathtub ~ neither shower nor shower curtain.


As I write this I am myself in disbelief. Though I've always loved bath time, and still do, I finish off with a shower rinse and use it to wash my hair.


But then in my little girl years, no shower. There was an apparatus for hair washday. A Y- shaped tube that attached to the hot and the cold separate taps, bringing the two temperatures together flowing down the Y- shaped tube and out of the shower nozzle at the bottom. I think it was a pink color and made of rubber.


Hadn't seen one of those again for a very long time until I went to Paris, France. I had a single climbing the charts, “BoBo's Party.”  It was 1968.  Gilbert Bécaud took great interest in promoting the American anti-war singer Melanie - although I told him I am not anti-war I am pro-peace, there's a difference.


"I want to present to you to zeFrench publique!"


At the Olympia theater, Bruno Coquatrix, the great presenter of Paris!  Who had presented Edith Piaf and Gilbert himself when he opened for her.


Peter and I flew to Paris on the eve of our wedding. I only agreed to get married because that's the only way we could live together in the flat in Paris, which would be provided, complements of Eddie Barclay, Barclay Records. These were times when you had to show proof of marriage when you checked into a hotel with a man, or lived in a flat in Paris, France. I arrived in France in my wedding dress, which was a black tight-wasted Victorian two-piece suit. Yes I was in mourning for my life. 


I had become an American girl quite used to showers sticking out of the wall from above the head and hot & cold coming from the same faucet. So when I walked through the door and into the bathroom, for the first time, much to my amazement, no shower !!  And voilà the little rubber Y -shaped apparatus not supplied !  Of course I had to go to the French hardware store trying to find one, as the hot and the cold water came out of two separate faucets. Never to become one comfy temperature till it hit the tub or went through the Y- shaped device. This is where I became obsessed with hardware stores in foreign countries. And going to one for me would be the equivalent of going to la tour Eiffel.


I couldn't fathom, as an American girl how Parisians could live without the shower.  That was the first time I had ever seen ... What's that!? "What was that second toilet for?"  No flusher but there is a stopper.  I eventually figured out the bidet! Oh how clever - why didn't we have these at home? And at that same time other American girls and boys who ventured to Paris, wondered as well ~ and one or more of them brought the idea home to Kohler. Perhaps one of them would become the president of that well-established bathroom fixture company because he brought this innovative idea to America. They are available in many fine hotels and homes.  Some of those homes do away with tub altogether which is upsetting to me as I took taking a bath with me throughout all the stages of plumbing advancement.


Let me tell you about the toilet I encountered in a Korean hotel, or I might save that for another day because I was going to talk about Christmas. And I began with the digression.


I was going to start out with a little girl’s memory of Christmas in Astoria, Queens in the family apartment and then I digressed before I could say, "but I digress" because the bathroom is where I could be alone and give much thought to God and Santa Claus who are always watching me and interchangeable, where there first gleaned a recognition of my spiritual self. Because bathroom time was the only time a watchful adult Eye wasn't on me. Perhaps I connect my childhood bathroom experiences with Christmas because that could've been the year that uncle George dressed up as Santa , and though my outer-self believed, or half pretended ,my childhood knowingness knew it was uncle George.  Are you still with me?


I was and still am, a believer and most likely always will be.


And I'd look for Santa in a Christmas Eve sky and for the angel… do I see her? So many cultures together in New York.  I have a vague memory of a Ukrainian or Polish belief that the angels open the sky at midnight and you would leave food for them, or was that New Year's Eve? There was lots of looking up at the sky on Christmas Eve because something wonderful was going to happen and it did.


Sometimes the tree wouldn't appear until Christmas morning.  Life in the pine right in my living room all decorated with lights, bubble lights with colored liquid in the candle shape for the bulb base. How I loved looking at those lights and the spectacle of, the so many toys!


That was when those who grew up in the depression era had experienced the worst of it. My mother, grandmother and uncle being among them, now had enough to shower their children with abundance!  It may have been a kind of sickness ~ conspicuous consumption, but man it was great, it was effing great!


My mother would become a set designer or window dresser. It was a display to rival a Saks Fifth Avenue window!


Christmas morning and they would all appear ~Winky Dink, the Mary Hartline doll, a bicycle.  Some wrapped some not, depending on aesthetics.  It was a massive sculpture and all for me!!!


I was, up till the age of seven, an only child. The grownups would open their presents the night before Christmas.  I think, I can't remember don't know, with all the excitement, anticipation and surprise. They staged all sorts of things for my benefit. We lived on the top floor and someone would go up with jingle bells or make prancing noises on the roof and I would think it was the reindeer. I was told to go to bed or Santa wouldn't come. But first we'll leave a snack for Santa and carrots for the reindeer. And cookies and milk.

Absolutely insane, I still do this - Even though I have to eat the sandwich myself (Peter always did that part). Or chomp on a carrot, with the leavings visible to only Beau Jarred who is in his 30s (and still believes). It’s a symbol like the communion wafer.


And I leave a note from Santa for no one in particular because it's impossible that magic doesn't exist ~ and my ritualistic silliness is a reminder as I look up at the sky on Christmas Eve for the angel.  Do I see her with the king of kings and the ghost of Christmas past ~ a true believer.





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Happy Birthday, Beau

Have you heard the word our friend is gonna be a star

She's gonna  get the chauffeur and she's gonna  get the car

And she's gonna get the love of the people at the bar

And she's gonna give birth to a baby guitar… !


Happy Birthday, Beau!



Labor Day

Labor Day is fast approaching~

You know what that means don't you? No white shoes.

I'm at my Aunt Jeannie’s. It's late August. It rains most afternoons now. Crazy that they plan a festival in upstate New York in August, it rains!  Woodstock, my Aunt Jeannie, says she was there. No recollection~ For me I was alone. But she was at the lake, in late August! My mother is coming to get me to get ready for September 9th, Back to School!

September 9th is burned into my beingness ~September 9th~it's over~ Swimming playing old maid on rainy afternoons with other kids my age. I trudge up the hill where these others live~ Who are they? How did I know them~ Friends of Rose, my Aunt Jeannie's sister-in-law, married to Johnny. Johnny was Eastern European, maybe Polish. There were cousins and friends of cousins and they lived on a hill on the hilltop house and I walked up that hill when it rained to play "bored" games.

And cards. Where I learned first about 'having fun' that wasn't fun. Getting a small amount of satisfaction from doing what was supposed to be fun. I remember and loved the shelf where the games were piled and stored ,ready for the kids to play and have fun~ The possibilities so much more exciting than Monopoly, Old Maid, Candyland.

There were the ones who had to win, who would make up new rules to insure they won. "No if you go past GO the second time, then you get out of jail, no matter what " Others who'd engage in debate, especially in Scrabble, "That is not a word, funn~uh huh!” “It's short for funny." Maybe all that took the fun out of it. I don't remember winning or caring. I liked the game pieces, the graphics on the cards, the colored aluminum tumblers. The Kool-Aid red, purple, the bologna sandwiches on white bread.  I am an American kid having fun on a rainy day in Lake Carmel, right?

"Eat, there are children in Europe who are starving." We all get our little boxes of animal crackers. We name the animals and eat them in several ways. Decapitate~ A crunchy head or amputate them. Or soggy, eat them whole in your mouth soaked with milk, when we only knew milk was good for you and didn't find out till later, the dairy industry, with the blessings of the FDA, spent big-time promoting this in the age of science. The only species to drink the milk of another species, with such harmful results, especially cow’s milk. Goat is a little more similar to human.. Who worried then? Only men of medicine and science with a conscience who were quickly quieted down along with the dentists opposing mercury fillings. And didn't we all get a mouthful of toxic heavy metals, playing games and being lucky American kids while Lenny Bruce was gathering materials, about to let the cat out of the bag. 

I was walking back down the hill in Carmel New York with the half eaten box of animal crackers studying the patterns of drying water. Still overcast but the rain had stopped. Getting cool~ Maybe they'll light a fire in the local stone fireplace Uncle Sonny built with his father, Mr Iarrobino Sr. Lost in meandering thoughts. I think that's where I first heard, if an alligator is chasing you run zigzag but I walked a straight line~ No alligators in Lake Carmel but I didn't really know that for certain. I just thought: I’d be brave.

Happy Christmahannavaloween!  When Labor Day is over it begins~ So it's here, no white shoes! In the time of the Beat Generation just post Lenny Bruce, most of the people didn't wear white Muck lugs. Yet. There were no UGGs. ("UGG " was what an American Indian said, after "How",) I was wearing white Muck lugs. Well they were off-white, so that was OK right? I found them in a Peruvian or otherindigenous-people-type-shop in Greenwich Village, heaven for anyone who loved weird shoes.

I was walking down the street with Peter. We weren't yet married~ I walked into a Fred Leighton's shoe store wearing white, after Labor Day, Muck lugs. I was trying on stumpy high-heeled round toed leather Mary Janes. I was saying to Peter: “These are Mini Mouse shoes I have to....ha have~ Then I heard a familiar sound coming from the radio~ “Oh Peter, it's me.. It's Beautiful People!!” “It's you Melanie, you and it's on the radio,how?”

I started to cry. The sales girl came over and asked if I was all right,
“Is it the shoe?” 
“No no it's not the shoe, it's me! What is that? Is that the radio?” 
"Yeah" (Like, I never heard one before)
“It's me! It's 'Beautiful People’, I wrote that song, it's my song” as the song fades on “I'm a beautiful people too.”  

Peter and I just stood in the middle of the shoe store locked in each other’s arms. The DJ announced, "and that was Melanie, with beautiful people... And this is Rosko on WNEW FM.” Peter and I got into a taxi Peter dropped me home and went off to see Rosko. Apparently the playing of a record that the record company wasn't promoting or even servicing radio stations, caught on.  Underground radio stations all over the country began to play Beautiful People. And it was called a “turntable hit”. This unfortunately is an obsolete radio term~ As virtually all radio is controlled by Clear Channel--one of the real-time names for big brother. This turntable hit would not be a possibility now.

But despite Clive Davis and the corporate-lawyer takeover approach to the record industry and music, ‘Beautiful People’ caught on like wildfire. Without a record in the stores, it was a hit, without record sales, even so, everyone knew Beautiful People, regardless. That in itself is a statistic I am proud of. I'm proud of us, as the message in the song is one of humanity, caring for one another.

The control mechanisms are now highly scientific and even with the freedom of Internet, so far. There is so much trash to wade through marketing, manipulation, to duck and dodge.

The us in us, is having a hard time identifying us. But I have great faith and believe that we, and I know who we are, and I am so fortunate to have had a great many life experiences that have helped me learn this "we” business, That we will see this as a time we took responsibility for the care of our planet.  And although I admit sometimes in the middle of one of these "life experiences" fortunate is not what I feel or might express, I emerge with the greater love.

"We are alone~ living with others, lovers, friends, sisters, brothers..."

Ever Since You Never Heard of Me

I suppose you think because of my age, well most assume as we age we learn from our mistakes. I didn't make any you see, I left that job to Peter (my husband for 43 years, who passed away suddenly in 2010). So since 2010 I've been not making mistakes, without anyone else to make them either~ Well I have found a few professional types who were good at making mistakes but because I wasn't married to them it was no sense putting up with it, right?

Are you with me here?

The gist is, I'm just starting out, yet as a famous one-name Melanie who is unknown to most of the world~ I want to let you in on this, because, my dear ones, your perspective of Melanie, yes she is in the third person, Melanie, holds an incredibly unique position in this world, and if I could articulate~(someone out there might be better at telling this story than I, but at the moment it's only me.)

Hold on did I lose you? Don't go,okay?

Here is the point, I am the oldest little girl in show business! With my juices intact,
Unrewarded yet fulfilled~ unlike Dylan over rewarded and unfulfilled
I'm still here
Ever since you never heard of me.