This email is to let you know that your song entry, “All The Same To Me” written by Frederick George Moore, which was entered into the Lyrics Only category, has officially been reviewed by the 2019 ISC Listening Committee. You are still in the running and there were no problems with your entry.
Please be aware that if you have entered multiple songs or the same song into multiple categories, you will receive a separate notification for each one. These may also come at different times as the competition progresses, so do not be alarmed if you don’t receive all of your confirmations at once.
Thank you for your participation, and we wish you all the best in your musical endeavors. We will announce our official Semi-Finalists in February 2020, Finalists in March 2020, and Winners in April 2020.
Please let me know if you have any questions regarding ISC 2019.
International Songwriting Competition (ISC)
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Rick is happy and when he’s happy I’m happy. We went to the beach with my sisters and friends and he loves listening to music and hanging out with us. He likes to be social now. It’s interesting because they say that socializing is the best thing to stave off Alzheimer’s. Maybe his wouldn’t have been so bad if he had enjoyed socializing more before he got the disease. Oh well, we socialize a lot now. As I said he comes to the beach. We went to a coworker’s wedding last night and we both enjoyed it. It was fun!
He cleans up nice too!
Today he went on an excursion with the gang at Silverado! They went on a harbor cruise, had lunch and spent the day out! I can’t wait to hear about it from the staff when I pick him up at the end of the day.
I will post a pic of that if they share one with me!
Sunday, September 22, 2019 I am participating in the 2019 Walk to End Alzheimer’s Westside
2019 Walk to End Alzheimer’s web page to learn more about the walk.
it’s in Santa Monica and it’s 2 miles.
I do not want any donations to team Freddy Moore. I just would like to invite you to come and walk with us.
Going to a restaurant with someone with Alzheimer’s is a bit like going out with a toddler. They don’t make conversation and they play with all the stuff on the table. Rick loves to put his water glass right on the edge of the table so that it’s likely to spill. He does this at home as well. My worry is that the knife will be used instead of the fork. It’s a bit lonely and I’m a bit nervous when we go out. Rick laughs at other people’s conversations sitting near us even if they are speaking in another language.
Today he put his shoes on the wrong feet and I corrected them. At the restaurant he was uncomfortable sitting on the bench opposite me but he gets mad when I tell him to fix the pillow behind him. I ended up sitting on the same side as him, fixing the pillow, cutting his pizza into bites and helping him eat the Caesar salad. Someone with Alzheimer’s doesn’t remember how to fork their food or stab it. No matter what he’s eating he lifts it onto the fork; salad and pizza and blueberries are a problem.
It worked out for me to sit next to him because we could eat together and be snugly. We enjoyed our lunch and had a good time.
For some reason our age difference is very obvious lately. No matter where we go people assume that he’s my father. The age difference didn’t really come up before. I guess because I’m helping him or taking care of him it appears that way. When I was 17 and Rick was 34 it just didn’t seem like a big deal. My friends thought that it was gross. I guess I would think it was gross now that I am an adult. Rick was younger than his real age. I was used to being around people 17 years older than me. I was a surprise to my parents. My mother had me when she was 42 and in 1967 that wasn’t the norm. At first the doctors thought that she had a tumor in her stomach, but it turned out to be me (I’m not a tumor imagine Arnold’s voice). I remember when they would tell the story; the doctor called, my mom answered the black old fashioned rotary phone on the wall in the kitchen and when he said it “it’s not a tumor, it’s a baby,” she fainted.
It’s weird that the distance in our ages seems larger now. I guess that I am an old soul but I still love cartoons and to act silly. Rick was a late bloomer. He didn’t even get his driver’s license until he was 25. So we both have our quirks, but we fit.
So those of you who know me know that I’m a pleaser, a co-dependent, a doormat and pushover, a good babysitter and nurturer. Lately I get a lot of advice on how to take control of my life. I should stop all the crazy things that I do like; overspending on my credit cards, obsessively cleaning my house, cleaning out my closets and changing the furniture around. I still bite the skin around my nails until they are bloody and I’m on an anti-depressant and the doctor said that it would make me stop but it hasn’t. People who know me understand that I am a fixer. I think the reason why I obsessively clean and try to have order in my house is because I want order or consistency in my life. Rick and I were happy for 30 years because we used to try to set each others expectations. But now there’s no way to expect anything but loss. I tried therapy but I was telling the therapist what she wanted to hear and not what was really bugging me. I get these characteristics from my father. I am exactly like him. He always wanted to keep order and avoid drama even though my mother was a huge drama. I am terrible at being confrontational. The reason for this blog today is that I realize that I am spending, cleaning obsessively, and organizing my closet to try and have order because I can’t fix Rick. It drives me nuts that I can’t fix it. All I read and hear is that It’ll only get worse. Whenever I think things are bad, they will get worse. This disease only gets worse, relentless as they say. In the beginning I had this compulsion to fix him. I can’t fix it. I am supposed to accept the things I cannot change right? I think the reason for my compulsive behavior is that I can’t do anything. I am all or nothing kind of person. Living with Rick having Alzheimer’s is like being in limbo where the outlook is only bleak. It’s hard to accept for someone who solves peoples problems for a living. It’s tough to make myself believe that there is no hope and no cure. By the time they come up with a cure, it’ll be too late. It’s already too late. Things aren’t going to get better. “Renee….Stop living in a fantasy! Renee get real!” It’s hard to accept. I am living a bad dream every day watching my loved one slip away. I have to keep adjusting to the changes in the disease. I am at the mercy of Alzheimer’s and it sucks! I am angry, frustrated and the only thing that I can think of to do is shop or clean or walk or organize. I really need to take up drinking.
like the song Edie Brickell wrote says “choke me in the shallow water, before I get too deep.”
In 2011 I made a video of Freddy Moore and Dennis Peters performing a song at Genghis Cohen in Hollywood, which Freddy wrote in 1991, “Born on the Wrong End of the Mississippi” that they also recorded in the studio in that year.
I’ve known Freddy (we call him Rick) since the late 70’s when he had an up-and-coming rock band, The Kats, and was friends with the sisters of my twin brother’s wife. Freddy later married one of the sisters after his divorce from Demi Moore, and we’ve all been close ever since. The bad news is Freddy has been suffering from Alzheimer’s for the last few years, inherent in his family. Posting this video is my personal tribute to him.
When I went to edit, I found that the audio track from my camera was not very good, so I decided to meld the studio track to the live video and was very pleasantly surprised how closely it matched up, they were that tight. (I covered up some mismatches with superimposed photos.) The very beginning is live, and as soon as the music starts, it transitions to the studio recording, and back to live at the end.
Please enjoy – Michael Kohan (PS – I’m also planning to perform the song at an Open Mic day for my seniors ukulele group.)
We had brunch with Rick’s youngest brother, his wife and some friends from out of town. One of which we were expecting and the other was a nice surprise. Everyone told a bunch of cool stories about working with Rick and playing music with him and when they worked together they formed a band at work called the Stoopers. Hearing these stories made me think of a funny story from our past.
When Rick and I were dating we used to drive up into hills and park and look at the beautiful views from high above the city.
This one time we were sitting on the top of a hill in Rick’s Honda Accord. It was a wealthy residential neighborhood. We sat looking out at the twinkling lights and stars and we thought how peaceful things were. Out of nowhere the top of a head of curly hair appeared just outside the passenger side window! It was about the level where the window was open and we both screamed…What the hell is that!
We thought that someone was creeping up on us and it really scared us! It turns out it was a large standard poodle trying to figure out what the strangers (us) were doing in his neighborhood. It was a really funny thing to see and be scared by. But once we realized that there wasn’t any danger, we laughed while we drove back down the hill.
The featured picture above was taken about a year ago when we visited the Griffith observatory during the giant moon exhibit. We got to see the moon through a giant telescope and it was amazing. I don’t have an old picture to share to go along with my story so I thought that I would put this picture in because that’s what the city looked like from where we would take our scenic drives.
I think that Rick used to be a lifeguard back in Minnesota when he was a young adult. Since Minnesota is the land of 10 thousand lakes, so he swam in the lake in the back of their Richfield home and he loved to swim. When we used to go to Hawaii every year we would swim twice a day in the beautiful blue pacific. I’m not a very strong swimmer but Rick was like a fish!!!!!!!!
Lately the weather has been in the 80’s here. I decided to take Rick to our local pool. It’s the same childhood pool that my sister and I played in. It took me about 40 minutes of coercing to get Rick into the pool. I finally got him into the pool and everyone around the pool clapped because they were happy for me. Once he was in the pool, he was great and we had a really good time. I told Fabiana to take him to the pool sometime. She said that last summer when she took him; he used to swim from one side of the Olympic sized pool to the other. One year later things have changed because AD acts fast. I told her he wasn’t going to swim.
I am telling this story not because things went smoothly but because it was a challenge. He has forgotten how to swim. He can only tread water. To get into the pool you must go down a few steps backwards and step down into it. Last year, Faby was able to have him jump in but not now. The shallow section is 3 feet deep. She tried to get him in but verbally trying to convince someone with AD can be frustrating sometimes because they don’t understand what we are saying.
Faby and Rick got to the pool and she had someone walk him through the men’s changing room maze. Faby ran through her side and waited for him at the other end. They used the chair lift to lower him into the pool. He sat on the chair and she asked him to take his t-shirt off. As usual he answered why? As if he was aware of everything. She explained that he was going into pool. She tried to pull his shirt off and he looked into her eyes and said: what are you doing? – Taking off your t-shirt – Why? 5 minutes later, she did it. She wanted to put sunscreen on him to protect him, as we all know he has light hair and eyes. The moment she sprayed the sunblock on his skin, he went crazy. -Stop! Don’t do this! He started to stand up and get really angry. Faby said sorry, sang some song to him, distracted him, and sprayed it on her hands instead of him.
I have told you that Rick is always cold and doesn’t like to get wet, like a cat.
Once she put his feet under the water he was already screaming: – This is horrible! OMG! I don’t like it! So she kept putting the chair down. I hate it! – Faby: Rick it is good! We are at the swimming pool! Look around! Everyone is having fun! She lowered him down until he got his Twinkie wet. What Rick used to say was, once you get your Twinkie wet it’s all over. She was really careful to go slow until everything was wet. He kept complaining. Once the entire chair was in the water she grabbed his hands and tried to pull him into the pool. By this time he was in the water up to his chest. He didn’t like it so he decided to stand up while still in the chair and tried to try to climb out and run away. It seems like he was being tortured.
Since Rick loves to hug lately, smart Fabiana asked him for a hug. She imagined she would hug him and pull him into the water. Smarter Rick hugged her with one arm. Tapped her back so when she asked him for his other hand, he moved the hand hugging her and held onto the chair with his other hand. He may be confused sometimes but he is very strategic. Meanwhile everybody was looking at the scene which was embarrassing but funny. I laughed a lot when I heard her recounting of the story. At this time Faby had been trying for about 10 minutes just sitting on the side of the pool. Another 15 minutes on the chair. She tried to just pull him toward her into the pool but he is very strong. He kept trying to climb out of the pool. This was dangerous because he could hurt himself. Two lifeguards were aware of what was going on and one of them jumped into the pool and another stood on the side. The girl in the water said:
- (girl-lifeguard) Sir. You can’t climb the chair. Please sit down and I will take you out!
- (Fabiana) No! He needs to come inside the pool!
- (Fabiana) Please Rick, sit!
- (Rick) …. Not aware of anything, just trying to save his life like a cat that he is Freddy the Kat
- (girl-lifeguard) Sir. Please sit!
- (Fabiana) Rick! Please help me! Just sit!
Meanwhile Fabiana still had the remote, so she decided to lift the chair up a little so he didn’t feel like he was going to die in the water and he could sit but as he was standing up and moving the chair and the remote stopped working. At this point she decided to pull him into the water. He was holding on with one hand. One hand! Fabiana said to lifeguard in the pool: I am going to pull him and you help me with his other hand. The lifeguard was really scared, she must have thought, poor old man, crazy caregiver. The lifeguard’s eyes opened so wide that Faby thought they would bug out. One, two, three and they pulled him.
Fabiana held him as if he was a baby. He got angry. He stood up in the swimming pool where the water was up to his chest and he walked in the pool with his arms up saying its cold. After some time he got used to it and he was smiling and happy.
She held him on her lap and carried him around, she pulled him around by his feet and in the end it was a great afternoon. They stayed until the swimming pool closed. All the lifeguards were ready with the chair lift for him to exit the pool but he got out with by climbing up the steps and holding onto the hand rails to pull himself out. These are our challenges every day. He was very happy that afternoon and at night he slept well. I’m glad. I laugh at stories like this, because I am happy when he is happy. Song: “When you’re smiling, when you’re smiling the whole world smiles with you” (by Louis Daniel Armstrong).
Excerpt from “It’s Not a Rumour” manuscript:
The first time I saw Elvis in concert, it wasn’t actually Elvis. When I was still in elementary school in the late 1950’s in Minneapolis, my grandmother (and soul-spirit!) Nanny babysat me after school. Sometimes my brother Doug and I got to sleep over at Nanny’s, and she’d take us to see a variety show at the local Veterans of Foreign Wars community center a few blocks away. Afternoon light poured in through the building’s arched windows, illuminating rows of metal fold-up chairs. White columns scattered around the room seemed to be holding up its roof. A mix of senior men and families, but mostly widows, found open seats. Chatter settled into a low hum. I fidgeted and wiggled in my chair.
“Ricky, sit still, you’re gonna fold yourself up in that thing.” Nanny scolded me, with the kind of smile that told me she was just sayin’ it because she had to, not because I actually had to stop.
The lights dimmed and a teenage kid a few years older than me took the stage. He wore his hair slicked back with a curl in front, his outfit a button down shirt and jacket with wide lapels, baggy pants with pleats, and wing-tipped shoes like Ricky Ricardo.
My jaw hit the floor. It was the hippest costume I had ever seen.
A familiar song I’d heard at Nanny’s called “Heartbreak Hotel” started piping through the auditorium’s speakers. My legs stopped wobbling; I stilled in my chair.
Yesterday I downloaded Elvis essentials and played all those old Elvis songs (Heartbreak Hotel, That’s All Right Mama, Teddy Bear, Blue Suede Shoes and Jailhouse Rock” and Rick and I danced and tried to shake our hips and he remembered! He didn’t remember all the words but he sang every melody and he was doing his own Elvis impersonation and it was great to see him so happy! Thank you Elvis for being so great!
The Ted Radio Hour on KPCC on Sunday was about the 7 deadly sins. I’m Jewish so I don’t really know about them and I found it fascinating that many Television Shows and Movies were based on them. How clever is this idea? It just blows my mind. So the shows that they listed were:
- Gilligan’s Island:
- Gilligan – sloth
- Skipper – gluttony
- Ginger – lust
- Mary Ann – envy (of Ginger)
- The Professor – pride
- Lovey – wrath
- Mr. Howell – greed
- Rachel – greed
- Ross – wrath
- Monica – pride
- Chandler – sloth
- Phoebe – lust
- Joey – gluttony
- Gunther – envy
- Willy Wonka
- Augustus Gloop – gluttony
- Violet Beauregard – pride
- Veruca Salt – greed
- Mike Teevee – sloth
- Charlie Bucket – lust
- Willy Wonka – wrath
- Grandpa Joe – envy
Maybe I’m just naive but I never thought about the writers connecting things in this way. Interesting huh!
I’ve always liked how George Lucas based Star Wars on Joseph Campbell’s The Power of Myth. So cool! When I have dark thoughts, Faby calls me Dart Vader (I’m pronouncing it like she does) I know that it’s Darth.