dual personalities

Month: November, 2013

Between grief and high delight*

by chuckofish

Well, as of Sunday, most of our leaves are off our trees

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and on the ground.

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Boy oh boy, are they all over the ground. We had quite a storm on Sunday morning. When I came out of church, the sky to the west was awesome.

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It was a record-breaking 80-degrees and sunny, but the wind was whipping up. I said to the man next to me, “We better batten down the hatches!” and my friend Carlos, stepping outside, exclaimed, “Auntie Em! Auntie Em!” Indeed.

I hurried to my car and as I drove the 5-minute trip home, the leaves seemed to attack my car. It was bizarre. As I reached my garage, the raindrops started to fall. I rushed inside to get my camera and headed back out the front door. But the rain began in earnest and then the hail, so I quickly retreated back inside. It was an amazing storm with lots of wind and hail, but it was over in about 8 minutes. Then the sun came out and the storm moved on, picking up strength on its way to Illinois where the really bad business hit–including an EF4 tornado.

I spent most of the weekend recovering from last weekend in NYC and a busy week at home. I watched When Harry Met Sally, which as you know, is a classic Nora Ephron romcom shot in and around the city. You gotta love old Billy Crystal, especially in this scene:

I also watched Martin Scorsese’s documentary The Last Waltz (1978) which is a filmed account of the Band’s farewell concert appearance on Thanksgiving Day, November 25, 1976. The Band (Robbie Robertson, Rick Danko, Levon Helm, Garth Hudson, and Richard Manuel) were joined by a dozen special guests including Bob Dylan (they were his back-up band in the 1960s), Neil Young, Emmylou Harris, Joni Mitchell, Neil Diamond, Van Morrison, Muddy Waters, Eric Clapton and more. I was not cool enough back in the day to know about it, much less appreciate it, but I can now. It was really great and I highly recommend you watch it…perhaps on Thanksgiving! (I, of course, will be watching Planes, Trains and Automobiles.)

Van, Bob and Robbie

Van, Bob and Robbie

I also watched the new documentary about J.D. Salinger on Netflix Watch Instantly.

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I watched the whole thing, but there was nothing new to me. They go into some detail about his horrible war experiences in WWII when he participated in the amphibious landing on D-Day and fought on through the Battle of the Bulge for over 200 days, including the horrendous Hurtgen Forest, and concluding in the liberation of Dachau. This is legit as it had a great effect on him. Who wouldn’t be affected by that? But mostly it is a lot of second and third-rate writers who are jealous and resentful making comments. Awful people like Gore Vidal. Why is it so hard to understand that a writer who is largely misunderstood wants to be left alone? It makes perfect sense to me. People have always had such ridiculous expectations of him. I guess it is all that unrequited love.

He was not crazy. (And neither was Holden!) Personally I think it speaks volumes that the local people of Cornish, New Hampshire closed ranks around him and protected him for all those years. They liked him. He went to the bean suppers at the Congregational Church. Also his friends, like Maxwell Perkins’ sister, protected him. It’s all the rest–the ones he wouldn’t talk to–who are so resentful. Who suggest he was pretty weird. I don’t think so.

*Franny and Zooey

Writing in English is like throwing mud at a wall*

by chuckofish

I have a feeling that my students, agreeing wholeheartedly, would prefer to sling mud than attempt coherent communication. But never mind, it is November and I am determined to be grateful for everything, including the 40 papers that await my judgment. Without further ado, here are this week’s five things that make me thankful.

1. Procrastination by computer. Who among us has not avoided an unpleasant task by surfing the web? And look what I found this week:

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this spectacular photo of the St. Louis arch from Picture of the Day who, in turn, got it from user llamapen on Reddit.  Amazing, no?

2. Reading beautiful prose makes everything better. Despite what Joseph Conrad felt about writing in English, which was, after all, his third or fourth language, he certainly had a way with words.

“… the chipped plates might have been disinterred from some kitchen midden near an inhabited lake; and the chops recalled times more ancient still. They brought forcibly to one’s mind the night of ages when the primeval man, evolving the first rudiments of cookery from his dim consciousness, scorched lumps of flesh at a fire of sticks…” 

— which brings me to my next item.

3. Internet recipes. I’ve been making dinners for a long time now and I get tired of making the same thing over and over. It’s nice to be able to try something new. This week I had one culinary disaster (too much hot paprika in the Goulash) and one success, shepherd’s pie with scallion cheese crust. It was yummy. Still, as a chef, I resemble this

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more than the real Julia Child. I’m something of a wreck in the kitchen…

4. Ruins. Yep, I’ve always been fascinated by ruined buildings — everything from ancient cities to abandoned Detroit.

French chateau

French chateau

Don’t you want to explore? Ruins are so romantic somehow.

5. And let’s not forget music. Where would we be without that? As you already know, at the moment I’m listening to a lot of Gregory Alan Isakov. You should too:

So that’s it for this week. I’m feeling better about those papers already. Look at what wonderful things await me when I get finished!

* said by Joseph Conrad, who struggled mightily with his writing.

 

 

 

 

Natural delights and changing joys

by chuckofish

“How lucky country children are in these natural delights that lie ready to their hand! Every season and every plant offers changing joys. As they meander along the lane that leads to our school all kinds of natural toys present themselves for their diversion. The seedpods of stitchwort hang ready for delightful popping between thumb and finger, and later the bladder campion offers a larger, if less crisp, globe to burst. In the autumn, acorns, beechnuts, and conkers bedizen their path, with all their manifold possibilities of fun.”

― Miss Read, Village Diary

It is the clean-up season in America. The leaves are falling and piling up. The sound of leaf-blowers is ubiquitous. But there is rain in the forecast, so we are going to have a yard full of wet leaves and no time over the wet and stormy weekend to do anything about it.
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C’est la vie. We’ll just have to chill and not stress about it.

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Meanwhile the last of the brave flowers are blooming.

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And the Christmas cactus is fabulous!

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And here is another seasonal joy from those other two blogging sisters who also reside in my flyover state, the wonderful girls of A Beautiful Mess blog. You gotta love a turkey-shaped cheese tray! While we are chilling this weekend and not raking leaves, maybe we’ll get creative and put together one of these fantastic turkey trays.

But don’t forget:

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Quotations

by chuckofish

Mary

Every book is a quotation;
and every house is a quotation out of all forests, and mines, and stone quarries;
and every man [woman] is a quotation from all his ancestors.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, Representative Men (1850)

It never ceases to amaze me, especially in regards to my grown children, how right Emerson is.

Spending a few days with daughter #1 reminded me that she is such a quotation of this guy:

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and also this gal:

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What a lovely combination of grandparent quotations!

The moon’s a balloon*

by chuckofish

The lunar phase on November 13, 2013 is Waxing Gibbous. The moon is growing bigger.

Take a look this afternoon. A waxing gibbous moon appears high in the east at sunset. It’s more than half-lighted, but less than full.

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When I flew to New York last week, it was at sunset. We flew over the clouds in the dark. The lights of the cities twinkled below. Then I looked out the window and there was the big dipper (Ursa Major)!

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The moon was a sliver then. What a beautiful world!

O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth! who hast set thy glory above the heavens.

2 Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength because of thine enemies, that thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger.

3 When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained;

4 What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?

5 For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour.

6 Thou madest him to have dominion over the works of thy hands; thou hast put all things under his feet:

7 All sheep and oxen, yea, and the beasts of the field;

8 The fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea, and whatsoever passeth through the paths of the seas.

9 O Lord our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth!

Psalm 8 (KJV)

* e.e. cummings

If you really want to hear about it

by chuckofish

Well, I don’t know about you, but I just love Central Park. It really is the coolest. I mean we have a large, beautiful municipal park in my flyover town too, but it quite pales next to New York’s.

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Someone had a brilliant idea back in the mid-1800s. Two men in particular, the poet and editor of the Evening Post, William Cullen Bryant, and the first American landscape architect, Andrew Jackson Downing, began to publicize the city’s need for a public park in 1844. All the big European cities had one, so why shouldn’t we? The state of New York appointed a Central Park Commission to oversee the development of the park, and in 1857 they held a landscape design contest.

Photo of American Elm trees from the Central Park Website

Photo of American Elm trees from the Central Park Website

In 1858 Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux won the design competition with a plan they entitled the “Greensward Plan”. They really knocked themselves out. Construction began the same year, continued during the American Civil War, and was completed in 1873.

Central Park is the most visited urban park in the United States.

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You’ll find babbling brooks in the middle of this great metropolis!

Shakespeare "in the park"

Shakespeare “in the park”

And there’s Shakespeare and Burns and Sir Walter Scott and many more statues to see. However, there is no sense of the space being cluttered with objects, which I like a lot. We walked all around the reservoir and down to the skating rink. We climbed to the top of Belvedere Castle, which was not as strenuous as the Walter Scott monument in Edinburgh but I did have a flash-back because the stairs are very similar!

We saw many of the outcroppings of Manhattan schist which we have seen in our favorite movies.

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We walked over those famous bridges as well.

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Across the street from the park and a block or so from daughter #1’s apartment is the wonderful American Museum of Natural History. I had not been there since 1978. Happily, not much has changed!

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One of the largest and most celebrated museums in the world, the museum complex contains 27 interconnected buildings housing 45 permanent exhibition halls, in addition to a planetarium and a library. The museum collections contain over 32 billion specimens of plants, humans, animals, fossils, minerals, rocks, meteorites, and human cultural artifacts, of which only a small fraction can be displayed at any given time, and occupies 1,600,000 square feet. The Museum has a full-time scientific staff of 225, sponsors over 120 special field expeditions each year, and averages about five million visits annually.

Theodore Roosevelt and Indian mate guard the front door.

Theodore Roosevelt and Indian mate guard the front door.

Last Friday we saw many stuffed mammals, the big blue whale, dinosaur skeletons and bones,

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and the wonderful hall of Northwest Coast Indians, which is the oldest extant exhibit in the Museum. There were hundreds of children running around, but they did not bother me. They seemed to be enjoying themselves in this gloriously old-fashioned space–and why wouldn’t they?

Holden Caulfield, you’ll recall, was a big fan of this museum, so I thought about him when I was there.

The best thing, though, in that museum was that everything always stayed right where it was. Nobody’d move. You could go there a hundred thousand times, and that Eskimo would still be just finished catching those two fish, the birds would still be on their way south, the deers would still be drinking out of that water hole, with their pretty antlers and they’re pretty, skinny legs, and that squaw with the naked bosom would still be weaving that same blanket. Nobody’d be different. The only thing that would be different would be you. Not that you’d be so much older or anything. It wouldn’t be that, exactly. You’d just be different, that’s all. You’d have an overcoat this time. Or the kid that was your partner in line the last time had got scarlet fever and you’d have a new partner. Or you’d have a substitute taking the class, instead of Miss Aigletinger. Or you’d heard your mother and father having a terrific fight in the bathroom. Or you’d just passed by one of those puddles in the street with gasoline rainbows in them. I mean you’d be different in some way—I can’t explain what I mean. And even if I could, I’m not sure I’d feel like it.

― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

I love this particular paragraph and so I have always had a soft spot in my heart for this museum. I know exactly what Holden means, don’t you? Some things should just not change. They are great they way they are. And because we are always changing, we need those stable places in our lives.

It is 25-degrees here in my flyover town this morning. Hope you are keeping warm today!

Postcards from New York

by chuckofish

Well, I am back from New York City! I had a terific time with daughter #1.

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New York is indeed a great and beautiful city. I especially love the Upper West Side and wonderful Central Park. And of course–spending time with daughter #1–priceless!

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More tomorrow after I’ve decompressed a bit!

Have you forgotten yet?…

by chuckofish

So asks  Siegfried Sassoon in his poem, “Aftermath”, written in 1919. Here it is in full:

Have you forgotten yet?…
For the world’s events have rumbled on since those gagged days,
Like traffic checked while at the crossing of city-ways:
And the haunted gap in your mind has filled with thoughts that flow
Like clouds in the lit heaven of life; and you’re a man reprieved to go,
Taking your peaceful share of Time, with joy to spare.

But the past is just the same-and War’s a bloody game…
Have you forgotten yet?…
Look down, and swear by the slain of the War that you’ll never forget.

Do you remember the dark months you held the sector at Mametz–
The nights you watched and wired and dug and piled sandbags on parapets?
Do you remember the rats; and the stench
Of corpses rotting in front of the front-line trench-
And dawn coming, dirty-white, and chill with a hopeless rain?
Do you ever stop and ask, ‘Is it all going to happen again?’

Do you remember that hour of din before the attack–
And the anger, the blind compassion that seized and shook you then
As you peered at the doomed and haggard faces of your men?
Do you remember the stretcher-cases lurching back
With dying eyes and lolling heads—those ashen-grey
Masks of the lads who once were keen and kind and gay?

Have you forgotten yet?…
Look up, and swear by the green of the spring that you’ll never forget.

And that was less than a year or so after the end of the war. Certainly, for Sassoon, the Great War remained the defining event of his life. He never ‘got over it’ and he never allowed himself to forget. But the world moves on and a lot of people prefer to cultivate amnesia, while others think that public remembrance is just a way to glorify and  justify war (we’ll say no more of those people). 

The veterans of WWI are now all at rest and those who fought in WWII are fading fast — all the more reason to remember then this Veterans’ Day. It’s no longer fashionable to talk in terms of “the greatest generation”, but really, many of these people did extraordinary things under the most hideous circumstances without wavering or complaining a bit.

Go to the military obituary page  at the Daily Telegraph and read about some of the incredible things that people did and survived during WWII. Take mild-mannered naturalist John Cloudsley-Thompson,  for example. At 21, he commanded a tank crew in North Africa, got severely wounded, did a stint training men at Sandhurst, and finally convinced his commanding officers to send him back to active service just in time for D-Day and the long fight to Germany. His marvelous obituary reminds us of what good character really means. In North Africa in the face of horrible fighting and conditions, the young officer  “defused the tension of waiting to take on the Afrika Korps by directing his crew to hunt for spider and scorpion specimens. He even acquired a desert fox from a local which his crew tamed and nicknamed “Noball”. At one point the fox got lost inside the tank’s engine, forcing the entire squadron to wait before moving off.” Can’t you picture this and don’t you wish you could have known him? After the war, he became a well-known professor and prolific scholar.

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There he is in 1964 in the Sudan.  He is survived by his three sons.  They sure don’t make ’em like that anymore. So let’s drink a toast to Professor Cloudesly-Thompson and all those like him, who served their countries.  Be at peace.

 

 

 

The hip hooray and ballyhoo

by chuckofish

NYC_wideangle_south_from_Top_of_the_Rock

Start spreading the news. I’m leaving today. Not to be overly dramatic or anything…but I am leaving later today for New York to have a little visit with daughter #1. I am tagging along with my husband who has a meeting. I have never done that before, but it seemed like a good time to do the whole ballyhoo thing.

Here’s hoping we do better than these guys:

Have a good weekend yourself!

Rest and be thankful

by chuckofish

restand be thankful

XIII. “REST AND BE THANKFUL!”
AT THE HEAD OF GLENCROE

Doubling and doubling with laborious walk,
Who, that has gained at length the wished-for Height,
This brief this simple wayside Call can slight,
And rests not thankful? Whether cheered by talk
With some loved friend, or by the unseen hawk
Whistling to clouds and sky-born streams that shine,
At the sun’s outbreak, as with light divine,
Ere they descend to nourish root and stalk
Of valley flowers. Nor, while the limbs repose,
Will we forget that, as the fowl can keep
Absolute stillness, poised aloft in air,
And fishes front, unmoved, the torrent’s sweep,–
So may the Soul, through powers that Faith bestows,
Win rest, and ease, and peace, with bliss that Angels share.

–Composed by William Wordsworth during a tour in Scotland and on the English border in the autumn of 1831

“Rest and be thankful” are the words inscribed on a stone near the junction of the A83 and the B828, placed there by soldiers who built the original military road in 1753, now referred to as the Drovers’ road. The original stone fell into ruin and was replaced by a commemorative stone at the same site.

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The section is so named as the climb out of Glen Croe is so long and steep at the end that it was traditional for travellers to rest at the top, and be thankful for having reached the highest point. The current road no longer keeps to the floor of Glen Croe but steadily climbs across the southern slopes of The Cobbler, on the north side of the Glen, to the highest point of the pass. The westward descent to Loch Fyne is through Glen Kinglas, and from here the A815, the main road to Dunoon and the Cowal peninsula, branches off to the south.*

I have not been to this particular corner of Scotland, but I wish I had! Wow. And isn’t it great that they erected a stone inviting people to “rest and be thankful”?

Anyway, I thought this fit in nicely with my effort to be thankful this month–don’t you agree?

*Information and photos via Wikipedia