Sunday, October 31, 2010

Growing up in Nottinghill Gate

I was 5 and my brother, 4 when our mother died, and Dad took us to live with his mother (originally from Bermondsey) at no 8 Aubrey Walk, Nottinghill Gate, W8 sometime early in 195

My grandfather worked for the British water board situated at the corner of Aubrey Walk nearly at the junction with Campden Hill Road. The water board, had a tower (since knocked down, but for a while also used as an antena for radio) and was fascinating for David and I to occasionally visit, where my grandfather managed the huge diesel fuelled engines (which we believe led to his lung cancer) that powered the water distribution. Behind this was a large grass covered undeground reservoir. This, David and I frequently managed to get onto (although forbidden to) by climbing up over what was at one time a chicken coop, over a 12' tall wall to get on to the reservoir and play. Dad would also use this shortcut to get to the tennis club.

The waterboard owned a small row of terrace houses including no 8. There was only a toilet, no bathroom. 3 bedrooms. A sitting room, no one ventured into unless there was a special occasion. a common room (can't think what this would have been called) with a fireplace which was lit daily from November through April. Then coal fires stopped regardless of how cold it still was. Next to this was the kitchen where we all ate, and a pantry in which David and I would have our toys and play.

My grandfather would use the shower at the waterboard and my grandmother who did housework for the Tennants who lived opposite in a 4 storey house adjacent to a two story house and would use their bathroom once a week.

David and I would have a bath each Saturday in a tin bath in front of the fire when it was winter.

Bed sheets were changed every week. Mattresses were made of feathers and required a lot of shaking to rearrange the feathers from sleeping in them all week.

My grandparents had the front bedroom, I shared the other front bedroom with my Aunt Jacqueline, and David and Dad shared the back bedroom.

Because David was not yet of school age, he was sent to live with our Irish grandmother for about 18 months shortly after the marriage of Tricia and Bill.

I went to Fox's infant school and then to the adjacent St. Georges Junior School. It was not a long walk down Aubrey Walk, across Campden Hill Road on to Kensington Park Road, where the two schools were situated close to the end of that road.

Adjacent to this small terrace of three houses, was the Campden Hill Tennis Club.

There was/is a beautiful old church (situated about a third of the street from Hillsleigh Road, where my Aunt Jacqueline and Uncle Doug were married when I was about 9, and Dad (who had by now remarried - June 1 we refer to her as, who had two children of her own, Debbie (3) and Stephen (4). David, Dad and I joined this family and left to live in a council house in Stonebridge Park. Quite a different area than Notting Hill Gate! I had what was called a "posh" accent developed from listening to all the similar "posh" accents around me.

In 1953, my Aunt Tricia and Uncle Bill married only about 4 days after my mother died. Weddings for poor people could not be postponed because of the cost. Aunt Jacqueline and I were bridesmaids. I remember that the reception was in a hall with a gallery, which all the children had fun running up the stairs and around and down again. By the end of the evening my long blue net dress had a very tattered hem!

It was a relatively happy 3-4 years for David and me, although Nan Munday was pretty strict and firmly believed that children should be seen and not heard. We were pretty fortunate with holidays as we would generally go to the Isle of Wight for a week and then David and I would go to Liscaroll, County Cork, where our Irish grandparents lived.

David and I used to come home from school for lunch, which was the same menu each day of the week, ending on Friday with fish, because our mother had been Roman Catholic.

Dad would generally take us alternate Sundays to a Roman Catholic church and a Church of England one.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

A car accident

My car accident of September 9, 2008 was finally settled in mediation in September 2010 - a long time - yes, a very, very long time. And I was forced into mediation or faced the alternative of having to wait until 2011 to go to court,because the complaint was not filed until February 2010 rather than before the end of 2009, as I had been advised it would be. And I needed so badly for the entire accident to be behind me (which of course it had been!), that I agreed.
I had never had a car accident before (except for minor dings I caused myself - gate posts moving, street lights, that sort of thing!) and it completely altered my life for quite a while. I stopped driving for about 9 months.
I was simply waiting at a traffic light on Beverly and Curson (LA), one car in front of me. Fortunately, I always leave a distance between the one in front and me, so did not hit that.
I remember it as a huge impact (it was a Continental Navigator and I don't know how many tons they weigh) and I had no idea what had happened. Perhaps the world had fallen down.
Because I was looking in the direction of the light, I saw my boyfriend's hands end up on the glove compartment. My beloved dog lying in the back was thrown forward. And of course, because I was looking to my right, my body was thrown backwards and forwards in a small area behind the wheel. Hence over 2 years later, I still suffer daily pain from whiplash in the right side of my neck and my right shoulder and upper arm. Sometimes my brachial plexus plays up, and nerve ending pain is not something I enjoy!
I got out of my car, a volvo station wagon and the entire rear end was smashed in.
A very beautiful young woman was coming towards me on the phone and I asked her if she was ok. She said she was fine.
As an aside there, was also the very rude man who stopped as he was driving past and yelled at us to get out of the road. I did not mince words with him, just assertively suggested he get on his way, which he could do because he wasn't behind us, however, alongside us, hence blocking traffic behind him! Glad that I am not married to him, that's for sure!
It is not the habit of British people to think of lawyers when they have accidents, however, Farmers Insurance (who insure both parties) acted swiftly.
I received a call the next morning. I gave as best account of what happened as one can do, given the shock. Was I okay? Yes, I answered. A British understatement.
An evaluator came to see the volvo, talked about it being a right off and maybe I'd get about $100. My insurance agent was not optimistic either.
Gradually as shock wore off, the pain in my body increased and I did what I never thought I would ever have to do, I called a lawyer friend and he recommended someone expert at dealing with car accidents. A different breed of lawyers to the ones I frequently negotiated with when I was running Chrysalis Music and managing artists.
Went to the ortho doc my lawyer suggested. A cold man. He agreed that I should see my chiropractor, who at that stage I hadn't seen in over 2 1/2 years, since he was able to correct the problem with my pelvis. I often felt that I had no control over the process whatsoever.
Within a few weeks I was in constant daily pain, sometimes so bad that I simply had to go to sleep to get away from it.
I was afraid to drive. Something I never expected, although there had been times in my low Honda Prelude being on freeways with crazy suv drivers, when I felt vulnerable.
Altogether I had about six weeks of chiropractic work and massage, interrupted by a stomach virus. This came back to haunt me, as to why there were gaps in my treatment - I don't know of anyone who would visit a chiropractor to be adjusted while suffering from a stomach virus, but perhaps there are such people - who knows.
Other pain started and I found that my sciatic nerve (I thought I'd pulled a muscle in my butt, until I saw my GP for a general check up and looked at the large poster of a skeleton), so back to the orth doc, who sent me for mri's.
More delay ensued, as he telephoned me with the results of the mri and without mincing words informed me I had a brain tumor. I politely said thank you and just sat there for an evening wondering. And who calls a patient and tells them that they have a brain tumor over the phone? Made an appointment with Cedars-Sinai.
I thought that being totally blameless in the accident, since sitting stopped at a red light is what you're supposed to be doing and there would be an easy settlement!
But Farmers Insurance are not a good company (web sites dedicated to suits against them - they also own All State and 21st Century and a class action suit for discimination against Mormons)and they argued that all of the pain I was experiencing was because of my age! Well I was 59 when the accident happened, could play tennis, lift things with ease, dry my hair without pain and work out, and wow - suddenly age had caught up with me????
Now I paint with a neck brace, and also when using the computer, or lifting things, otherwise the pain reaches the unbearable level pretty quickly.
My life to that point had not been easy because of my mental challenges, but I was finally getting my life back together. I felt free to move ahead and do what I really wanted to do at school (evil stepmother comes in here, but no description) and that was paint. I was no longer able to work in an office around people, because ptsd, panic disorder and chronic depression makes it almost impossible to do so. I never know what will trigger ptsd, when my mind simply fragments and I feel as if I am looking through a kaleidescope of shards of glass.
The accident took all my progress to a better life away and I had to start again.
The small amount of money I shall receive because of Farmer's aggressive stance and the delay in filing a complaint, is pitiful. Although my lawyer is so pleased with the result they achieved, they've actually put it on whatever websites lawyers put such "achievements". I shall certainly never recommend them.
However, I am on the move forward again.
I intend to let Craig Ferguson and his wife know about the small amount I was supposed to have received by the end of October, although the end of October somehow seems to mean sometime the beginning of November to my lawyer. But then they frequently said one thing, which they later said they hadn't and anyone who knows me from working with me, will remember my ability to remember contracts provisions without having to look at one, what decision was made in a marketing meeting months before, etc.
I am not letting Craig and his wife, Megan know to get more money from them, but I would like them to know how shabbily Farmers Insurance treaed me.
So on to the art store to buy some matting board, and mounting board and then to the post office to mail some sold giclees to the UK.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Perhaps my luck is finally changing! And naivete

I am almost afraid to say this, as it's been a truly awful year! Each month something difficult (to say the least) has happened and I have ended that month, hoping the next one will be better, but no.

However the end of this month is turning out okay. Doesn't totally make up for the car accidents (3 - someone smashing past me down a side street and breaking my driver's side wing mirror, reversing into someone I think was driving too fast through a USPS drive through car park, and scraping the side of my pickup while trying to get out of a tiny spot, I probably shouldn't have attempted to get into in the first place, due to two large expensive cars taking up more that 2 adjacent parking spaces!), getting locked out twice, costing me $150, which is more than the $130 I received for the few CDs, Freak Beat Record bought, but retained the three boxes containing over 700 CDs, and not suggesting to me that I could sell them to another Amazon or internet seller, but doing so themselves, thereby immediately making up the small sum they paid me.

It is ridiculous that at my age I am still naive about people in the music business.

Learning that the check I should have received after the mediation by the end of October, will be held by my lawyer (more about her another blog) until sometime next week. Which, to the best of my knowledge is not the end of October! Guess they'll keep the interest!

However, my opinion of Amoeba has gone up, after meeting Jim and Fred, both of whom were really pleasant. Jim (their expert on RIAA awarded discs - I am almost tempted to get copies of all of the ones I should have received - Huey Lewis, other Blondie, etc) was pleased to pay me a fair price for my four platinum discs and a few albums I left out of selling to Freak Beat, because they'd only give me a $1 each for them.

Having tea with a good friend, who is Chairman of the PRS, who has bought a Tea with Klee giclee (he'll hang in his office there), driving back home praying all the way that I would make it to the gas station. I did just! My engine stopped, literally as I crossed their entrance.

Selling two Tea with Klee giclees to the boss, who was my best mentor, Bob Wise of Music Sales - treated me as a woman, an equal, and one with intelligence.

One to a great, but now retired artist manager, John Woodruff and his wife Christine, who became really good friends and got me an invitation to the most prestigeous 3M boat in the Sydney Harbour on Dec31 '84/Jan 1 '85) during my 3 week stay in Australia after I resigned from Chrysalis.
I was asked to stay on for a few months as (which they did not tell me, otherwise I may not have resigned since all senior staff received shares since they then went public) because of Terry Ellis selling his share of Chrysalis to his co-founder, Chris Wright and my loyalty to the company. They needed me to stay on to show that they had a top woman executive, because they wanted not to lose another top executive with TCE leaving, and also because I was really the only top woman exec that the company employed and they needed to show they were "equal op employers" (which they were not) for the British share offering. It's amazing how naive I have been in respect of certain people, for someone so good at business and negotiating!

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Friends and letting go of family

It's been a tough year and each month something has happened, and October was the final straw (1 car accident my first ever that is my fault in 43 years of driving - well aside from the dings I caused myself, the loss of a friendship that I valued and trusted - I am reminded that a therapist once told me that you can only judge when to trust a person at the time you need to trust them - not helped by Freak Beat Records, to whom I sold my CDs and [who I shall never recommend], having found that Amazon selling had taken over my life), locked out twice, another car ding, banned from selling on Amazon for life [not a huge loss, I only had two CDs listed on there still]), so I am looking forward to 2011, although still hoping for a good month this year. And hoping the friend, Marv who reminded me of the Mayan prediction that 2011 will be the end of the world, is wrong.
I have come to the sad realization that only my friends really know me and perhaps that is the same for many families.
I have after all spent over half my life in the US. No I am not yet a citizen, however, am starting the process.
I am experiencing deep grief through recent goings-on with my immediate family, as well as still, the loss of my beloved dog, Anita.
I gave so much in terms of money, furniture, time and jobs to help one.
I don't blame that person for not remembering. They have gone through enough health crisises and a painfilled marriage. But I have lost the only person who has been in my life since their birth, and I cannot believe what they have done and said.
But the pain I feel is so powerful, that it is almost overwhelming and even painting is not helping that much (and I am about to have to start cutting matts, which I hate doing!), when it usually stills my mind and the ptsd.
Whenever anything happens with a family member, I get thrown back in to the memory less childhood and adolesence, because the abuse and whether I saw my mother dead or not, is too much for my mind, so it has kindly given me a blank.
Yes, there are some good ones, and a few years until I was 9 where there are happy pictures, particularly of me running around the fields of Ireland with my brother and my second cousin and staying with my Irish grandmother, who was love personified and gave unconditional love.
I have realized that what I thought was a family, isn't one that I was ever really a part of. And that I have always been the odd one out.
So on November 4, I am finally going to address the family issue and learn how to just let go of it all.
Yet remain very grateful that I was able to help my beautiful nieces, Sami and Vanessa.
I would do it all again, just for them to finally be safe, which they are.
And for that I remain very grateful that I was given that particular opportunity.
And now I have to matt a giclee, Anita's Garden for the Stray Cat Alliance, and deliver it for their silent auction today.
Wish me good fortune with letting go.