Thank you, Corky! #patron #cookingwithcorky

Why I will always *heart* Ashland, then & now

 

“Towns are like people. Old ones often have character, the new ones are interchangeable.”

― Wallace Stegner, Angle of Repose

I was born in a small town

No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be

I'm old enough now to have the "I remember when" conversations several times over.  Now, I don't mean to imply here that I am old, because I feel nowhere near old or even what that means or rather when in fact I will be old.  However, what I do mean is that I have personal history with several places, and especially that of the town I currently reside, my beloved Ashland, Oregon.  Oh, what history I have!

My life in Ashland and Southern Oregon has been varied, I have lived life as a college student, a single working person, a married woman, a divorcee, gone through each title of Miss, Mrs, Ms, lived the life of a Jesus freak, the struggling actor's life, fallen in love several times over and quite a few crushes, had my heartbroken, drank way more coffee than alcoholic beverages, and finally, realized the true lesson of Ashland, Oregon that being, finding my calling and, more importantly, my true sense of self. 

I'll never leave this
Small town girl behind
The place where I come from
Is with me all the time

My Little Town

Recently this article, It's Impossible Not To Love The Most Eccentric Town In Oregon, Ashland, made its rounds on social media sparking conversations of near outrage of many in my community who like me can say "I remember when" with an utmost degree of fortitude.  For their part, I can relate and reminisce about what Ashland was and am in agreement that, yes, in fact has changed.   

In recent years, I have bemoaned publicly and privately the rising cost of living and rental prices, the loss of the plethora of hippie lounging in Lithia Park, the increase in the traffic brought on by now the yearlong tourism that used to only span from March through November, maybe, and the reality that I no longer refer to Ashland as a little college town but now as a retirement community 'with a college'.  

Yes, it is known by the adjacent cities that Ashland is known more for being on the wealthy end, albeit sometimes referred to as snobby, or perhaps even liberal elitist, rather than eccentric.

Yet, in my present state of mind, I view all of this with a different perspective.  For change is inevitable in life, it's how we adapt that defines our enjoyment and endurance in life.  And, as I look out at this, my darling little Ashland, as I interact with the new breed of citizen, especially within the last year in the time of Covid, I now see that whether what may have occurred outward the true heart's blood of Ashland's core remains at its essence.  

Through one of my 'normie' jobs, I have the luxury of coming into contact with this new breed of Ashlanders, the retired folk above the boulevard, as it were, and from my time with them, I sense only an increasing heart's connection with this town as they spend more time within its confines, falling more and more in love with it as truly their home.  Truthfully, I love watching the newer resident's excitement over the little joys of Ashland I have become accustomed to, the love in their lives as they recount their 'how they came to live here' stories, which always seem to reflect some sort of spiritual guidance, of sorts, and the thrill over the variety of activity to enjoy in this town.  

The point of it is, no matter how it may look now, how the eccentricity of Ashland may have transformed, it still remains the little, funky, artsy-fartsy, weird town, it is now in a new phase of life.  As humans have different seasons, cycles, and phases they pass through, so to a town with its collections of a variety of humans all living and colliding within each others' spaces, has its seasons, cycles, and phases to pass through.  

For my part, I cherish the "I remember when" stories I have, the memory of what Ashland used to look like, remember when that building used to look like that or remember when that building was there but now they tore it down, remember when I lived there, remember, remember, remember...but as I hold dear those memories, the lessons of Ashland's true significance as the parental guiding figure becomes more visible and  I find within the ability to move onwards, embracing that which is new, the new faces to meet whose stories will affect mine, teaching myself and Ashland as a whole the lessons to be learned in growth and expansion.

In years of recent, I felt a desire to move beyond this little town, but what that reflected was a restlessness and a true lack of connection to home within.  But, truth be told, now at last I have found that home within knowing that it is truly where my heart is, that of, my beloved little town, Ashland. 

This Town

We all know the chosen toys

Of catty girls and pretty boys

Make up that face

Jump in the race

Life's a kick in this town

Life's a kick in this town

This town is our town

It is so glamorous

Bet you'd live here if you could

And be one of us

Punky Power & Me

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOAiYcyyhAw

On this start of April, the day of foolishness and games, I am mindful to reminisce, backwards in time to college and then further back to my carefree days of childhood.  Starting with childhood, one of my earliest loves of eighties TV shows was that of Punky Brewster and until very recently I did not know just how much that show and its titular character, Punky, had such an influence on me through and through.  One April Fools Day in my college experience, my best friends and I crashed a free box and adorned ourselves with all matter of crazy assortment of outfit, then happily skipped down the street for pizza, laughingly nicknaming ourselves the "April Fools".  

The storyline of Punky Brewster was of a very young girl, abandoned by her mother, forced to survive on her own until rescued and adopted by the loveable old miser yet doting, Henry.  In Tuesday's entry, Pop Culture & Les Miserables, I compared Punky to the character of Cosette in that Punky's original sense of self, boldness to be her and pursue her best life was emboldened by the stability from the great love of those who cared for and helped raise her.  Thus, the foundation of love was such that made her character strong enough to be truly herself, without fear of judgment or reprisal, wherein she was able to truly embody to the fullest her "Punky Power".  

For women of my age, Punky Brewster was an icon, yet even more than that.  During the month of March 2021, Punky Brewster was rebooted with Soliel Moon Frye reprising her iconic role as well as with other familiar faces.  

Along with the reboot, Soliel Moon Frye released a documentary, Kid90, which featured all the footage she shot while growing up an adolescent, teenager, and twenty something in the nineties, with images of more recent times in the final scenes as Soliel brought about the conclusion.

Having not had a chance to watch the reboot of Punky Brewster yet, I did watch Kid90 twice.  As I watched this, taking in all who Soliel had been after she wrapped Punky Brewster as a child, hearing her story of the awkwardness of growing into adulthood and trying to assert herself as Soliel and not Punky, a sense of calm and peace washed over me.  

Here was the woman I had followed as a young child, the woman who had seemingly disappeared from the media focus for some time, and here she was back again as if she never left.  

No one could play Punky but Soliel for she is Punky, but even more so, because of how she portrayed Punky, there is a Punky Brewster in all fans of the beloved show.  Punky Brewster showed us it was okay for us to be us, she showed us we were worthy of love, indeed it was not selfish to love oneself and ask for it from others.  Rather, that the stable foundation of unconditional love is the true facet in being fully oneself and embracing one's own personal Punky Power.

All of my life, I've had an original sense of style, humor, interests, and creative pursuits.  Until the return of Soliel, I did not realize how much my girlhood fandom had gone inward, never left, and truly influenced me.  The college age me was no doubt expressing the Punky Brewster influence as she dumpster dived through the free box of clothing.  Furthermore, no matter all the hardships I have experienced throughout my life, the mad mad Bipolar years, battling PTSD from damaging relations a plenty, the crazy years of being manipulated in a mainstream cult, and so much more, I have survived because of two little words taught to me in my tender years: Punky Power!  I had it then, throughout all the struggles, trials, and even the joys, and I still have it now.

As I watched Kid90, as Soliel laid bare all of her goings on throughout the years, as if showing her fans what she had been dealing with, how she had occupied her life since, a smile of gratitude traveled across my face.

After all we have been through in recent years, my friends, rest assured that 2021 is gonna be more than all right for, 

Punky Brewster is back.

Every 80's kid gotta have it!

Corky Gardner: My 2020 Survival Story

My 2020 Survival

By Corky Gardner

I’ve been living the same day over and over. I wake up, talk to a parrot, walk home, do course in miracles and at 8 am I water my garden. In the evening, I go for a walk at the same time. There used to be a creepy guy on my walk and I would avoid him. The next day I walked a faster. The next day I crossed the street to get away from him and said “Get away from me!” The next day I realized he wasn’t that bad of a guy and now when I see him at the beach he says things like “You’re late.” and I can’t be mad. Everyday I see a woman with a white dog, every day there is a man with silver hair that’s gonna be on my left and there’s gonna be a woman on the lawn listening to conservative radio and once in a while there is a topless woman on her balcony with a phone to her ear. Once I looked up to find a man and a woman dressed in sailor suits doing a choreographed dance. Once I saw a middle aged woman on roller blades holding on to a golf cart full of kids. Lots of times there are mobs of children on bikes. 

My dad died in the course of the pandemic. The rules seemed to follow me; no visitors the day after I checked him in, then we weren’t allowed to exercise with anyone but a relative, then we were on lockdown, not aloud to see friends the day after he died. Then they changed the rules so planes couldn’t come and funerals were suspended. When I picked up the ashes they just handed them to me in a tote bag, no hug, no face that I could see. Someone handed me a bunch of flowers like I just won Miss America. I frantically batted them down as I tried to drive a convertible in the wind. Things were not going my way. I went to have lunch at the Panda Garden but they had banned indoor dining so I just sort a had a picnic in the grass and I realized I couldn’t leave my dads ashes in the car so I set them down besides me eating orange chicken in a white dress with a huge bouquet of flowers. The drive-thru cars looked astonished. But I didn’t give a #$%@f. That's one thing my dad taught me. 

Early on in the pandemic, when my dad’s sudden death sent me into a manic tailspin, I was so full of ideas I couldn’t write it all down. So many things I wanted to express but the main lesson I heard from my dad was that he wanted me to live a good life and enjoy myself. It was hard. But I am getting better. Talking to the parrot, going on my walks, creating comedy and music and sometimes essays like these. Connecting with friends and realizing that certain things are inevitable. It’s how you process them that makes the difference.

Corky Gardner is an SOU alumni, comedian and writer living in Lahaina, Maui. She has performed standup for 12 years and has opened for Tom Arnold , William Shatner and Cheech and Chong. For more about Corky, go to: https://www.facebook.com/corky.joan

So, what do you think of Corky's story?  Comment below.  To share your 2020 Survival Story, send it on over to cafegirlproductions@gmail.com.  Include a bio and photo of your choosing for your story.

The Thriving Artist is a subset of Cafe-Girl Productions,Inc.  For more information, go to:

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www.patreon.com/cafegirlproductions

 

When I was Eponine, Part One: Life In A College Dorm

 

On My Own

I gotta admit, the above picture is hard for me to look at.  Why? It was taken during the time I lived in the college dorms at Southern Oregon University, specifically known as the Cascade Complex in Baker Hall, to be exact.  The photo doesn't pain me for where I was living, but the circumstances surrounding the moment it was taken.  I was hanging out with my best guy friends and my college boyfriend, who was very abusive to me, verbally speaking.  My college boyfriend, that is, not the guy friend, well one of them was and is extremely cool and still in my life to this day, the other proved to be of a similar calibre to the boyfriend, of which pains me to admit.  Thus, examining this time of my life seems a perfect fit for today's entry, for it was a big portion of time of which I existed as "Eponine" and her view of the world about her.

This week I spent some time at the old college dorm haunt.  (I call it a "haunt" not merely because it is, suspected to be, haunted, but in the romantic sense of the word: Haunt: noun,a place frequented by a specified person or group of people."I revisited my old haunts"). 

Why did I spend time there this last week? Well, I was working for the local branch of the nursing program, Oregon Health & Science University, of which is currently housed in my old stomping ground and former college abode, the "Cascade Complex".  

The Cascade Complex resembles little of its former glory, as it is continually prepped for its eventual demolishment, and so to, my heart is preparing for this reality by opening myself up to release a stage of my life from which I have left.  

As I walked through the halls, debilitated, stripped bare, empty with my footsteps echoing off the ceiling and down the passage, I am surrounded by the memories of who I was and I feel her with me as I sojourn. The reality of the place as it is today resembles the loneliness of her troubled heart, wrought with an everlasting depression, a shell of a girl, craving an existence of external validating source that would provide sustaining love and security, yet never truly discovered or acheived.  As I visit with her, remembering her joys and heartbreaks, all of who I was when I was her, all that I did, the friends made, our laughter and conversation presently soaked as a memory deep within the walls, I implore directly to her heart that all things will work out, not necessarily how she desires or plans it, but it will unfold in a beautiful and powerful way.  The pains she carries about with her, the depression weighing her down greatly, will be the source of her greatest power and strength.  She will overcome, becoming whole, healthy, increasingly on her journey towards wellness.  Because of the heartbreak and suffering, she will surrender to her truth. 

This reality, this overwhelming truth, is not within her grasp of contemplation, for she is still within her Eponine phase.  Yet as hard as it is to view her, with my need to rescue, I cannot, for the Eponine Phase is a vital process to find the ultimate true selves, innermost peace, and power within.  I cannot and must not seek to derail her journey, for I know that every single step and circumstance, however it may have wounded, led me to who I became and am today.  There was a very significant reason for each moment, celebratory or tumultuous.

So, I allow myself then to simply join her as she and I become one once again and finally.  I accept her as she is, for that is what she truly needed.  I walk with her, through the familiar hallways of the old haunt, singing the depth of emotion in her "Eponine" aching cries.  Throughout that journey, healing transpires.

Re-Visiting My Eponine

I would love to hear your thoughts about your "Eponine" phase or thoughts on this blog.  Comment below and I will respond.

The Thriving Artist is a subset of Cafe-Girl Productions, Inc.  Support us at: www.patreon.com/cafegirlproductions and find out more about us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Youtube.  Also, check out our website at: www.cafegirlproductionsinc.com