What Happened Willie

Each night before I go to sleep, I take my iPhone and run through the videos on YouTube and make some selections of songs that please me--, happy, sad, thoughtful or funny.  Last night, it was Willie Nelson. I've always loved Willie. He is so very much his own man and that's rare.  But as I was scrolling, his bio popped up and I realized he is almost 80 years old. What happened Willie?.How can that be? When did you get old? But better old than dead, anyone would agree.

You have all seen me write of "one of those nights when I have the heebie jeebies." It's because I know death will come for me when I am sleeping. When I explained that to Ray Charles one day he said, "So if you stay awake all night, what's that gonna get you? You gonna argue with whoever it is who comes to collect your soul?" I said, "Oh, yes. I can talk my way out of most things so I want to be awake to give it a try." Silly, I know, but I like to think I might have a chance of talking myself into having a few more years.

Not so for some of my friends. This past week, that Phantom has been collecting souls of people I know,five of them. I keep running up to anyone I know who is in their 70s or 80s because this age bracket seems to be riding the top of the list. Suddenly solitary me wants to be with the people I like and love. When thinking about that I started to clearly realize what a giant list that is. When I was little, nobody much lived past 70, I don't think. But this week, three of the guys who left us were in their 70s, two were younger, a little.   So if I run into Willie anywhere, I will be sure to hug him and hope he stays "On the Road Again." filling the need for music for Ruth Adkins Robinson.

Judge, I couldn't Help Myself

I had to drive an hour from my house to the Malibu Courthouse for an arraignment after receiving a notice that I owed 900.00 to the city of Los Angeles. Horrified, I decided I had to go fight this since I am innocent, well sort of. I'd been pulled over by the Highway Patrol last October who told me I had no license tags.  I pulled out my registration and said "I do so"  According to her, someone had stolen my tags and I had to replace them. I was outraged. I had to pay more money for what I had already paid? Sucks. Anyway, I drove to Malibu rehearsing what I was going to say to the Judge, once there.  I got there on time, but had to sit through a dozen cases, since my name begins with "R". When the bailiff called one person and the judge asked how did he plead, he said guilty. The Judge said you are charged with going 91mph in a 65 mph zone. :What Happened?" The guy said "Judge I couldn't help myself. " explaining that he had been wanting this certain car since he was 16 and now that he had it, he just had to drive it fast."  What kind of car?  A Corvette. Everybody in the courtroom laughed and the judge sort of smiled to himself.  I understand.The Corvette is a magic car, built in my homestate of Kentucky. I have a childhood friend named Phil Hibbs who collects and shows Corvettes.  He has so many trophies, he could build another house just for them.  Then the Judge dismissed the charges against the driver with instructions on where to go to drive fast in it. So, the moment was past and I was still terrified and what was going to happen when my name was called. It came and the judge smiled at me and dismissed the ticket charges against Ruth Adkins Robinson.

Normal Normal, Who's Got the Normal

Looking on the top part of the page here, I see a box marked Normal. Not for the first time, the question crossed my mind "Who determines normal?"  Me, I have never, ever thought being normal was a good thing --just a boring thing.  Somewhere in the range of safe and hiding from the excitement the world has to offer.  Probably I thought that since nobody has ever accused me of being 'normal'  I am way extreme in everything I've ever done. It's not normal for a teenager to race halfway across the world with no resources except her brain.  Believe me --from Kentucky to California is more than halfway across the world both in geographical  and sociological dimensions. Nothing after that was ever what you would call 'normal,' and so somehow I became Ruth Adkins Robinson.

A Triumphant Life

After a nightmarish childhood, My adult life has been glorious and a triumphant gift.  I have been to a hundred countries visited every continent at least once or twice, danced with kings, dined with presidents been recognized and rewarded for my work, earned a shameful amount of money for writing 22 minutes of television and written over 200 hours of TV.   I have filmed under the Arc d’ Triomph, been in dozens of museums around the world including Napoleon’s Museum in Paris, shopped in Cairo’s Souk and along Tokyo’s Ginza,  rode camels and elephants, stood in the shadow of the great Pyramids of Giza, felt at home riding the Bulllet Train all over Japan and slow-poke trains all over Europe and the US. I’ve lived on two Caribbean Islands. Was loved by the Genius for 28 years and my other musician soul mate for 35, been thrilled with the exploits of my children who constantly amaze me with their gifts, beauty and generosity. I treasure my Buddhism, shakabuku’d  me by Herbie Hancock.  There are many miles, many sites and many sights left to go before my loved ones take my ashes on the road between Nice and Cannes and let go free the remains of Ruth Adkins Robinson.

my family at my museum

Money, Coin, Ducats, Dollars?

Life is Funny, so they say

Well, it's true. But reality is very different that such platitudes. Life for everybody was  difficult in 2012. The people I know WITH money are hurting. People like me -- ugh. I like to say that I wish I had the money I had in 2011 when I said I was broke. But hanging onto my beliefs that this year we are in right now is the Magic Year for me, the phone keeps ringing with offers. Yesterday alone, I spoke to Tokyo, South Africa, Miami, New York and the Valley. Today I got another call from New York that is job related. So it looks like I will be flying all over the globe as in the golden, olden days, writing at warp speed (thank goodness for my Hollywood Reporter training that required a front page story every day by 3 o'clock, drunk or not). I have been to all these places before, except South Africa and I can't wait to go again and for the first time. The last time I was scheduled to go to South Africa, I was in an automobile accident by LAX. So happy to get another chance...is Ruth Adkins Robinson

Very Kind Words

Beautiful Rick

Writers like me, often think since we generally labor alone that attention is seldom paid to what we do.  Today an Executive in Charge of Production that I've worked with several times posted this recommendation.  I can only say thanks to Rick for this inspiring recommendation that came to me on a day when I was feeling a bit down. You brought a lump to my throat.

"Ruth's command of the written word paired with her ability to tell a story (or help others tell stories) with poetic grace make her one of the most elegant and sophisticated Writers I have worked with. She is a creative genius with a humble and understated presence that has tremendous respect for humanity as a whole."

Beautiful words from Beautiful Ricky for Ruth Adkins Robinson

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Weighing in on the Gun Thing

I was stunned at the fool who suggested that the heroic principal should have been able to pull out her own assault weapon and kill the crazy before he killed her and all the babies and staff.  What are these people thinking??  Of course an inanimate object can't kill anyone unless some person pulls the trigger, but isn't that the point. Who is listening to parents, teachers, any authority figure?  I am from Kentucky, there were guns in every closet. As bad tempered and crazy as I am, it never crossed my mind to take one of the guns out and shoot anybody.  And damn it, I knew a lot of people who could have used a good shot to the head at blood spattering range. Yet I don't ever remember being told not to touch the rifles and shotguns, it was just in the air.  Guess the air is different now.  Children seem to think its ok to take anything of their parents they want, or put poison in the milkshakes if the parent was too strict (like wanting the little nut job to stay off her computer when she wasn't supposed to be on a computer). Gun Violence is a part of daily life that didn't exist when I was a kid and the only thing I can think to do is to get better in touch with members of your family, reach out to your communities and try to give as much care, comfort and love you can to everyone you meet.  Difficult? but not as difficult as looking at the very small, heartbreaking caskets of the babies who died. Ok, so it's rant time from Ruth Adkins Robinson

Watch that Forward Button

Be careful what you forward. Today I sent something to someone I shouldn't have and forgot that all correspondence attaches.  So now I will have hours of trying to mend that fence.  Perhaps I will never succeed.  This makes me remember several years ago when a friend of mine forwarded me something that included a note to someone else that said "This is another one of Ruth's hairbrained schemes."  Wow, I had no idea that was the opinion of me.....the truth is that particular plan let me buy a house... it was devastating at the time, but now it generates a giggle..and that's pretty good payback for Ruth Adkins Robinson

I suppose you could call it adding insult to injury, but then I wasn't hurt anywhere but my ego when the little asshold grabbed my iPhone and shoved me. The hurt came when I called to report it, got the service turned off and then talked to the insurance.  Yes, I had coverage.  But here's the insult. I paid a grip for the phone when I got it and now I have to pay 199USD to get a replacement. Isn't there something wrong with that picture?  Of course, I will pay since I have been completely seduced by my iPhone 4S. Darling Siri looks up stuff for me, does email when I talk, takes memos, finds whoever I am looking for and actually is quite clever. When asked  did she know Jesus by my granddaughter, she said, "I am not programmed to discuss religion."  Would that were the answer given by too many people ready to discuss religion at the drop of anything, It's all very unnerving for Ruth Adkins Robinson

Unknown Grandfather

Today on Facebook, I came face to face with a face I didn't know I knew. Some month ago, I was contacted by email with the inquiry: "Are you the granddaughter of Jim Burns from Louisville, Ky?" I am, I responded, although I do not know him, but thanks to my search for my mother, Ruth Lavida Burns, I knew her father's name. Then today, the emailer posted a photo up on her site. When I saw it, I started to shake. I know this man, I thought, but I didn't know him as a grandfather. I knew him from my childhood as a friend of my father. I remember seeing him from time to time at this or that relative's house. Why in the name of my shrieking insane brain didn't they tell me he was my grandfather? Just another mystery to the dark, cloaked burden of silence around my mother. I will never know because anybody with answers to my eternal questioning is no longer alive. It is an undiscoverable mystery. Who was the mysterious Ruth who drove away from her little baby and never looked back at Ruth Adkins Robinson?

After Christmas

 Most people do love the Christmas holiday even if they can't spell Frankensince, like me in this late hour.  Perhaps the best thing about it all and that strangers actually smile at each other and cheerily call out Merry Christmas. Generally people growl at each other. Sad to see all the abandoned trees on the lots, so important and expensive on December 24, forlorn and forgotten on December 25. The spilling over trash cans all along my historic block is annoying.   I was thinking about all the presents and to tell the truth, I cannot remember one single Christmas present I've received in past years. I know I must have loved them at the time, but what about a present with some real meaning, like in an O.Henry tale? For some ungodly reason, I wait to wrap presents until Christmas Eve and then I am up all night doing just that. Doesn't matter how resolved I am never to do it again, Christmas Eve rolls around to find me in the same state of stupid. I received some lovely gifts this year from my Twins, thoughtful and right on time.  Whatever ambivelant feelings I have about this holiday, get pushed aside in order to celebrate with my sweet babies and that's a good thing for Ruth Adkins Robinson.

Boxes, Boxes, Boxes

Here at CAAM, we had to pack up our offices last week since the State was putting down new carpet. I had fifteen boxes of STUFF now that got packed up with the assortment of papers, etc. This is not bad considering some people had 20,30,100. 136 boxes. When I came in today, lots of hustle was going on to get all the stuff out of the boxes and back in place. That's good. Bravo. As for me, I know whatever is in the boxes is stuff I will never see again. It will sit in those 15 boxes until the boxes turn to dust. When I torn down my studio and built my little cottage, I put everything from the studio into boxes and put the boxes in my basement. There they sit and that was ten years ago. One day I'll clean out the basement and throw stuff away --or so I have been saying welll --for the last ten years. I am wondering if somewhere deep, hidden is there a hoarder gene in Ruth Adkins Robinson

Art Collecting on Time or Loan

Of course I collect art, I work at a museum. I've seen a rise in something lately that puts more art into homes. One is 'permanent loan' that comes with documents and gets art out of closets and from under the beds of some artists. This coming week, I am going to get a chance to look at some work of Mark Steven Greenfield with the possibility of that permanent loan thing, that's permanent until the artist wants it back or you decide you might want to pay for it. The other is that more artists are taking the risk of giving art to someone with a promise to pay. Recently, I was admiring a Teresa Tolliver seated porcelain woman in a luscious green that a friend has and mentioned it to Teresa. She said, "Well, I'll make you one." I thought that would be amazing but doubted that I could afford it. She said, "Oh you can pay me on time." I jumped at the idea. She brought my lovely large woman seated in blue to me over the weekend. I placed her in my living room and am sitting and watching her now as she stares up at the nightsky, head tilted at an angle that is pleasing. "Teresa in Blue" is naked and her body does much of the same thing my body does when seated, sort of relaxes. She is wide bottomed and small breasted, how could I not love her? So now, thanks to the generosity of the artist, I will own her in full by Black History Month next year. That is such great news for Ruth Adkins Robinson

I Don't Like Ellen de Generis

I guess I got on this subject because of the New York decision to uphold gay marriage --which I completely endorse. Some comic said they deserve to be as unhappy as the rest of us. By now, anybody who reads this knows I don't believe in marriage, but I believe you should have the right to chose. Talking about this today, I snarled when somebody brought up Ellen's unsuccessful marriage. They wondered why I don't like Ellen. Simple. I don't not like Ellen because she is a lesbian, I don't like her because she trampled on writers like me back during our useless strike. She never missed a show, just kicked the writers under the bus. Before that, I watched her ever day. I will never watch her again. See, I believe that people who face prejudice every day for anything, ought to feel a little more empathy for a cause. It's funny I have a girl friend who came out ten years after we all knew she was a lesbian. She was my dearest friend and I valued her, but to my shock and dismay, her new mate turned out to be racist. A bigoted lesbian is an oxymoron if I ever heard of it. Celebrations all around today for the gay and lesbian friends of Ruth Adkins Robinson

Pho on You

Because I've traveled the world, I've had the opportunity to try some fantastic, exotic, sometimes wonderful, sometimes genuinely scary bad food. I like to think I'm daring when it comes to experimenting with food, like the live and still squiggling sushi I ate in Tokyo one year while Tats Nagashima did all he could not to laugh at my terror. But there are other happier experiences --my first escargot with Phyllis McGuire in New York, my first uni with Robbie Porter in Cannes. A few years back, my dear friend Bruce Wolman took me way out in the hinderlands of Los Angeles to where the Vietnamese ex-pats settled. Bruce promised me that I would so love the Pho soup. He was so right! We went back several times before he up and moved back to Norway and Washington, so there I was Pho-less. Recently I saw one of the new cooking shows called "Outrageous Food" or something like that and there they were cooking Pho which is extraordinarly complicated to do (who knew??). My mouth was watering after the show, so I went and looked up Viet food to see if I could find a place anywhere nearer my home than those aforementioned hinderlands. Voila, there it was--right by where I shop in Westfield Shopping Town. I went the very next day and since I'm greedy and really like what I really like, I ate a bowl on the spot and took another one home to eat later that night. I have been back four times in two weeks. Now I have to invite Bruce to come back from Norway and have yummy Pho with Ruth Adkins Robinson.

In love with Alex Massie

I am pretty sure I am in love with Alex Massie. No, I wouldn't recognize him if he walked in the front door of my cottage right now, but reading what he writes gives me goose bumples. He has written extensively about Sarah Palin in his blog in London's Spectator and every time I read what he writes, I nod my head and laugh out loud. When he called her a 'troll' it was funny, when he described her blatant attempt for attention by twisting her try at seeing the very distinguished Lady Margaret Thatcher into nearly a fait accompli, I just wanted to tell the world --go read this man's writing. You will enjoy it as much as Ruth Adkins Robinson.

Black Music Directors

Long ago, you never saw a black music conductor tv. Well, not so long ago really. When I was a little kid, there were a few variety shows, chief among them was Ed Sullivan's Toast of the Town. Accoring to Cornelius Grant, esteemed source of lots of things music, the only person of any color that the musical director of that show would give up his podium for was Maurice King. "Pops" as he was affectionately known was an elegant old man when I met him, still full of music and stories. All about the International Sweethearts of Rhythm, little Gladys Knight, of course, those Motown memories and a lucky few of us got to hear him talk. Well on Wed. June 8 at the California African American Museum, there is a program called "Shaping the Sound of Television," the Black Music Directors. Yep, there's enough for an actual panel. Moderated by sweet, supertalented Patrice Rushin, the panel of Michael Bearden "Lopez Tonight," Ray Chew, "American Ido," Rickey Minor, "Jay Leno," Greg Phillinganes, "Surprise Oprah!" Harold Wheeler, 14 years on Dancing with the Stars and James "Big Jim" Wright from the Mo'Nique Show and now a whole bunch of people are going to get to hear them. Lucky you if you got a private invitation. Come by and listen right along with Ruth Adkins Robinson

Our Phonebook

Phonebooks come in all shapes and sizes and our reaction to their contents are based in pure emotions. We used to carefully choose where we wanted to put those treasured numbers --from the little black book to my own pink leather number. Before we started using our phones for phonebooks, those you hold in your hand and write into could get really tattered. Take the case of my old friend Sammy Davis Jr. His phone book had pages falling out of it and looked like an elephant had stepped on it. And guess what, on ebay right now Sammy Davis's beat-up phone book is up for auction with an opening bid of 8,000. wish I had a spare 8k and I'd buy because Mr D. is still so inportant to me, although he's been dead 20 years now. When it first went up for auction, a friend of mine called me up to stay Sam's phone book was up on eBay and "Hey, Ruth, your name and number is in there." Sammy is still in my pink book. Oddly enough, I can't seem to erase anyone who is in there, even if they've been gone for a long time. Ray's private number is in there and that number is finally no good. They disconnected it a whole two years after his death. Hitting a delete button on the phone is a lot easier than erasing or blocking out a number on a page. I just looked through my book and so help me there is somebody under each page of the alphabet that is not good any longer. It speaks to the truth of my lawyer friend Jeffrey who said, "Face it Ruth, we are at a time of our lives that we go to more funerals than weddings!" Well having said that, let me encourage all my 'old' friends to go marry somebody, I'll come to the wedding and your new phone number with go into the pretty pink phone book of Ruth Adkins Robinson

Ruth Hasn't Been Writing

Sorry my friends, I've been extra nuts lately and writing so much that I haven't had time to write for myself. But I'm back. My target is five times a week to talk about what I'm doing, thinking, wishing and dreaming. Here's some bullet points of writing assignments RIGHT NOW. I'm doing the package for honoree Keenen Ivory Wayans Entertainment Icon award at the American Black Film Festival. I'm writing the show for the Heart & Soul Awards next month in DC. I am working like a maniac trying to pull all the elements together for my exhibit opening at the California African American Museum July 14, called "Women: Game Changers, Less Known, Here Celebrated." Seventy women in ten categories including She Heals, She Got Game, Sisters-in-Arms, Museum Women, High Flyers, Mavericks...and more. The number of women who have achieved amazing things surprises Ruth Adkins Robinson.

Oh My Gobble, Gobble

Ok, so when was the last time you ate stuffing/dressing or whatever you personally call it? I think the last time for me was last Christmas. Why is that? I like stuffing, but I never prepare it. I suppose that would be because I eat enough of it between Turkey Day and Dec. 25 that I use up my stuffing allocation for the year. We have a big family so the last of the left-overs are gone except for one lone bowl of dressing, with the mushrooms and chili peppers sitting there waiting. Ok, so I did it and now I have made my usual vow of going on a diet tomorrow. I had this thought that if I could lose one-eighth of a pound for every time I have vowed to go on a diet tomorrow, I would be anorexic. So here I sit the stuffed with stuffing Ruth Adkins Robinson.