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@ The Grammys 2012

Connie & Cimcie Grammys2012


Such a bittersweet day for our family…just like the word in poor Whitney’s song. Life is so very, very short. All future plans are just a possibility–take note young people. A cliché, but so true, “live each day as if it’s your last.”

The girls (really women, but they will always be my girls: Cimcie & Ashlee) and I feel such gratitude for Roger’s award, but…so many buts.

Cimcie, Connie, Jeff “Skunk” Baxter & Ashlee



Maybe I’ll be able to write about this some day, but not today.

Many thanks to Jeff for helping us get through the day.

A happier day: Connie, Ashlee, Roger and Cimcie at his Lifetime Achievement Award Party in South Beach from the NARAS Florida Chapter in 2006.

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Fugitive Blonde circa 1986

Fugitive Blonde Itunes Pic

Lead singer/songwriter Conrad Reeder’s band from 1986 – 1992. Various members, but the songs were written mainly by Conrad, Sandra Kaplinsky/Garszva & Kyle Keilman.

Mixed/Mastered by Roger Nichols.

Buy the track “Wildlife” by Reeder/Garszva here: Fugitive Blonde - Wildlife

FugitiveBlonde-Gig Wootens

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A new show written by hit songwriter, Pam Wolfe, & Conrad Reeder is now titled:


 (Venus A Love Story, was renamed because of a similar title currently on Broadway.)



John Denver in Modern Grief Excerpt

I talked to John Denver on the phone the night before he died. The night before his own great leap into the abyss, although “crash” is a more correct choice of word. His first big hit sung by Peter, Paul and Mary, was “Leaving on a Jet Plane. Yes, I know what you are thinking: his death is rife with irony. No, he didn’t crash in a jet plane, but it was a plane. I loved to fly with John. He was an excellent pilot. I don’t understand all the rigmarole about his pilot’s license before the crash, but I trusted Roger. Roger was also a good pilot and like John, grew up flying with his dad and if John had been a mediocre pilot, Roger would have been the first to rag him about it. Roger liked correcting people, and even if he could be annoying about it, he was usually right. I also took flying lessons and knew enough to know that John was an expert pilot. John’s father, Dutch, was a famous Air Force Pilot who I knew briefly. Dutch and John flew Roger and me to Lake Tahoe the week after Roger won a Grammy in 1981.

Father and son were obviously very close. They laughed with each other—had a great time. No simmering anger beneath the surface of this relationship as implied in other books, one supposedly co-written by John. I had problems with my dad when I was young, but we smoothed that over later, the same with John. John did leave an architect degree behind to be a folk singer. I doubt if many dads would have been thrilled with that choice, but his dad supported him soon thereafter and I could tell from Dutch’s demeanor, no one could have been prouder. You could see it in his face when looking at John. Some stories get hijacked, I mean, ghost-written, which is why, my readers, I take full credit for this book; whatever it is, it is me (and maybe Roger’s ghost just a little).

Daniel Hahneman, a Nobel Prize winning expert in these matters of how we experience life says that the “remembering self [...] our memory tells the story.” And, we all know there are as many versions of a train wreck as there are witnesses. Think of my “remembering” as my offering of poetic prose, a glimmering of words from a subconscious mind that has followed my “experiencing self” around for nearly sixty years. The goal of my book is for me to heal, and for you, to hopefully, be a little inspired, or maybe just entertained—critics are embraced. (Portion of Chapter 2)



Around 7AM I spotted these Zebras clumped sleeping together on a dead palm bloom. They love this one woodsy area of my yard and seem to prefer dead branches–must not be slippery. The temperatures dipped in the 50s. Maybe they are cold.

I love these little guys.

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It is astounding how little the ordinary person notices butterflies.Nabokov

Is this adult Zebra drying wings, activating pheromones, signaling for mates, or all of the above? Not sure, but I love to watch them in my yard in Jupiter, FL.

At any time of day, dozens of these Zebra Longwings are luxuriously fluttering around the yard in Jupiter near their favorite spots. Zebras are considered to be brainy butterflies; Heliconius being the only known butterfly species to eat pollen. They live 4 to 6 months and forage along the same route every day, as if following a trap-line.

Their caterpillars feed on Passion Vine


Zebra Heliconius Cats eating Milkweed

Milkweed Bloom

and Milkweed Plants that produce a cyanide from which the Zebras derive their nasty taste–a neat trick to keep the birds from snacking on them–hence their leisurely flight.

Nervous Clouded Sulphurs must fly erratic, streaking straight up and criss-crossing the sky in a yellow blur to avoid being lunch for a Scrub Jay, but Zebras sip their nectar and nibble on pollen like lazy tourists nursing a daiquiri.



WARNING! The following text uses improper punctuation, bad English and useless metaphors, and should not reflect on the writer’s ability to write well.

I really, really shouldn’t watch TV, especially cable news. The Big Bang Theory is laughable, House, oh House is gone, Weeds lost me two seasons ago, but I missed a lot of TV over the last couple years. Long story.

To: TV Network Shareholders, CEOs et al

From: Me. I find the Drug Company ads scary, offensive and possibly an attempt to induce subliminal messages to not even the sub-conscious part of our brain, but to the awake brain. Regardless, who wants to hear words like diarrhea or suicide or renal failure in the same sentence?

And, the political Super PAC Ads are misleading, generally amateurish and just plain annoying. How much did that ad cost? Isn’t the treasury gone? What’s left to grab? Redundant? You betcha!

Lately, life has been one big pain for me, and many others I know.

And, since this is a blog and not an academic paper I can insert hyperbole at will with a Huzzah or saturate this entry with quotations, alliterations, fragments and all the gd-dmn elipsae I please… … … … … … .

Anyway, Cable News finally FRIED my brain.

I knew this addiction would get me in the end. Now there are video war games that look and sound real, but in 1990 I watched a “live war”–the prequel to the decades of real war to follow. What was I thinking? It just seemed cool in a weird sort of SHOCKING way that this war, the first Iraq war in 1990 was live on the “new” satellite TV.

And, the “new” company that brought this war into my living room, my kitchen, my bedroom…was CNN—created by Ted Turner in 1980. That’s a longer, bigger story.

But why did my head explode? From sheer disbelief and disgust at the amount of crap on cable news. Most of FOX news is truly nauseating, but on CNN, in less than one hour tonight, I listened to an interview with Dan Rather and Jack Welch. Dan thinks the 2012 Presidential Election will bust another bank and sink our glorious nation. I like Dan Rather, but come on…is he kidding? Did he have his head in a bubble during the 1968 election?

And heeerrre’s Jack!  “Private equity creates quality jobs.” What quality jobs? Where’s all my (our) money?

What a world, ooohh what a world; I’ll getchyou my pretty.

Politics was my sport, my game and at times a passion. Then my husband died.  And, so much of this seems meaningless to me now. I guess I’ll stop watching cable news…for the sake of what’s left of (my) head.

Hey ho…


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