Whoopee ti yi yo, git along little dogies

by chuckofish

Well, the summer is meandering along and soon will be over! We seem to do the same things over and over. Time like an ever rolling stream…

Anyway, it is a good time to re-read Thoreau’s A Walk to Wachusett, which he recorded on July 19, 1842.

It was at no time darker than twilight within the tent, and we could easily see the moon through its transparent roof as we lay; for there was the moon still above us, with Jupiter and Saturn on either hand, looking down on Wachusett, and it was a satisfaction to know that they were our fellow-travelers still, as high and out of our reach as our own destiny. Truly the stars were given for a consolation to man.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of the death of Ulysses Grant in 1885. Let’s all take a moment to remember our 18th president. His funeral in New York City demonstrated the great love and admiration the country felt for their former president and Civil War hero. He was respected not only by comrades in arms but also by former enemies. Marching as pallbearers beside the Union generals William Tecumseh Sherman and Philip Sheridan were two Confederate generals, Joe Johnston and Simon Buckner.

The column of mourners who accompanied Grant was seven miles long. (This is an interesting thread with photos of all the honorary pall bearers.)

Placed in a “temporary” tomb in Riverside Park, Grant’s body stayed there for nearly 12 years, while supporters raised money for the construction of a permanent resting place. In what was then the biggest public fundraising campaign in history, some 90,000 people from around the world donated over $600,000 to build Grant’s Tomb. A million people, including President William McKinley, attended the tomb’s dedication on April 27, 1897, 10 days after Grant’s body had been moved there. Grant’s Tomb was — and is —the largest tomb in North America.

I’ll also remind you that Saturday is the National Day of the Cowboy. Celebrate it in appropriate style!

As Emerson Hough wrote in his “Passing of the Frontier,” the time of the Cattle Kings, though short, was

…a wild, strange day…There never was a better life than that of the cowman who had a good range on the Plains and cattle enough to stock his range. There never will be found a better man’s country in all the world than that which ran from the Missouri up to the low foothills of the Rockies.

I plan, of course, to watch some good cowboy movies, including (but not limited to) Red River (1948), as is my tradition.

You might also want to read up on some of your favorite western artists or just look at some great western art…

They’ll be celebrating in Oklahoma City at the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum with numerous events, but we can all plan our own party. Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving, as Auntie Mame said. So heat up some beans and join me in watching Red River!

By the way, last night we watched The Best of Times (1986), a movie I have a great fondness for, in memory of Robin Williams. You will recall that it is about re-playing a high school football game played in the fall of 1972, which was a disaster for the characters played by Robin Williams and Kurt Russell. (The OM was playing football that year and so it always resonates with him.) It’s a classic and I highly recommend it.