dual personalities

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“If you want to lift yourself up, lift up someone else.”*

by chuckofish

A couple of weeks ago I mentioned some books that my cousin passed on to me, among them a 1902 copy of Booker T. Washington’s Up from Slavery.  My great grandmother gave the book to her uncle, James Erskine, on the occasion of his 73rd birthday. The choice of gift intrigued me. The eldest son of William Erskine and Margaret Young, James was born in Inchinnan, Scotland (outside Glasgow) in 1829. He and his two younger brothers moved to Clarence, Ontario and married three sisters. The Erskines were all farmers; they worked incredibly hard and suffered more than their share of heartbreak and hardship. Having now read Up from Slavery, I can see why my great grandmother thought it would interest her uncle James. This is a book that has much to teach beyond issues of race, although those obviously predominate.

Born a slave in Virginia, Booker Taliaferro (he added the Washington later) did not know the day, month, or year of his birth, or the name of his father.  His family lived in abject squalor on the plantation. Only later did he realize how little they had as slaves: he had never brushed his teeth; slept in a bed with sheets, or eaten a meal at a table. He had only the clothes he wore and so washed them (and himself) irregularly. He knew no one of his race who could read or write, and early on realized that there could be no freedom without education and hard, hard work. He became determined to help his people and spent the rest of his life doing it.

After years of struggle, he managed to get a place at the Hampton Institute in Virginia (now Hampton University), where he worked as a janitor all day and studied at night. After graduating, he immediately started educating others.

The Hampton Institute

Later he used his experience at Hampton as a model for his work at Alabama’s Tuskegee Institute (now Tuskegee University), founded by George Campbell, a white former slave owner, and Lewis Adams, a black former slave.

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Rather than enumerating Booker T. Washington’s accomplishments, I’d like to concentrate on his philosophy, because I think that his views are instructive as well as admirable. He understood the importance of hard work, of forgiveness, of self-respect, good character, and kindness — things we all need to work on. Here are a few choice passages from the book:

“I will permit no man, no matter what color he might be, to narrow and degrade my soul by making me hate him.”

“In my contact with people I find that, as a rule, it is only the little, narrow people who live for themselves, who never read good books, who do not travel, who never open up their souls in a way to permit them to come into contact with other souls–with the great outside world. No man whose vision is bounded by color can come into contact with what is highest and best in the world. In meeting men, in many places, I have found that the happiest people are those who do the most for others; the most miserable are those who do the least.”

“Those who have accomplished the greatest results are those who never grow excited or lose self-control, but are always calm, self-possessed, patient, and polite.”

I would describe his philosophy as a sort of Christian Stoicism. In any case, the man had great ideas that he put into practice. He worked tirelessly his whole life, lived by his principles, and devoted himself to helping others.

His strategy for racial advancement demanded restraint, extremely hard work, tolerance and a lot of turning the other cheek. It did not sit well with those who wanted instant results or reparations, or who did not understand the enormity of the task they faced. Observations like this one made Booker T. some enemies:

“There is another class of colored people who make a business of keeping the troubles, the wrongs, and the hardships of the Negro race before the public. Having learned that they are able to make a living out of their troubles, they have grown into the settled habit of advertising their wrongs — partly because they want sympathy and partly because it pays. Some of these people do not want the Negro to lose his grievances, because they do not want to lose their jobs.”

This perceptive insight applies to all those people  — regardless of their race — who prefer playing the victim to moving forward under their own steam. It’s something to think about anyway.

I haven’t done Booker T. Washington or his book justice. Read it. It’s available online for free at Project Gutenberg or as an audio-recording on Youtube:

 

In a country as divided by politics as we are, maybe we could learn something from a man who was willing to put aside personal goals and political differences to help other people.

*Booker T. Washington, Up from Slavery

“A bushel and a peck, and a hug around the neck!”*

by chuckofish

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The weather wizards are promising some sun today and tomorrow. We shall see.

Daughter #1 is stopping in this weekend on her way to her alma mater in Indiana where she is speaking on a panel about her career in media. Then she’ll stop on her way back to Mid-MO.

Meanwhile daughter #3 has moved out everything in their 2nd bedroom and created a playroom for the wee babes. It looks pretty cool.

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The babes appear to be pleased.

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Doodle, oodle, oodle. 
Doodle, oodle, oodle. 
Doodle oodle oodle oo.

Have a good weekend!

*Frank Loesser, “Guys and Dolls”

A hoot and a holler

by chuckofish

The Oscars are coming up this Sunday, but, as you know, I no longer watch them. Self-aggrandizing rich people–phooey!

Instead I will watch one of my five favorite films, four of which were nominated for Best Picture (but, of course, did not win.) These five films are, in my humble opinion, as close to perfect as movies get. They won’t surprise you. I list them in no particular order.

  1. Shane (1953): “Know what you want to stay for? Something that means more to you than anything else – your families – your wives and kids. Like you, Lewis, your girls. Shipstead with his boys. They’ve got a right to stay here and grow up and be happy. That’s up to you people to have – nerve enough to not give it up.”

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2. The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938): “Why, you speak treason!”/”Fluently!”

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3. The Wizard of Oz (1939): “Back where I come from, we have universities, seats of great learning, where men go to become great thinkers. And when they come out, they think deep thoughts and with no more brains than you have.”

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4. Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961): “You know what’s wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You’re chicken, you’ve got no guts. You’re afraid to stick out your chin and say, “Okay, life’s a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance anybody’s got for real happiness.” You call yourself a free spirit, a “wild thing,” and you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It’s wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.”

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5. Stagecoach (1939): “Now folks, if we push on we can be in Apache Wells by sundown. Soldiers there will give us an escort as far as the ferry. Then it’s only a hoot and a holler into Lordsburg. We got four men who can handle firearms – five with you, Ringo. Doc can shoot if sober.”  [or The Searchers (1956)/She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1947)/The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962)–the best of the John Wayne/John Ford oeuvre.]

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In case you were wondering, Shane, The Wizard of Oz, The Adventures of Robin Hood, and Stagecoach were nominated for Best Picture. It is interesting to look at the list of Oscar winners for Best Picture. It ranges from the (not quite) sublime to the (truly) ridiculous. Some of my favorite winners are: The Best Years of Our Lives (1946), Ben Hur (1959), Tom Jones (1963), The Sting (1974), Chariots of Fire (1981), and The Last Emperor (1987).

But you will find me watching one of these non-winners, one of these five great films on Sunday night.

Food for thought toward the end of winter

by chuckofish

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In the bitter cold of winter the trees stand bare and seem to be dead. But in the spring, they burst forth into leaf and flower, and the first fruits begin to appear. So it was with the Master’s death and resurrection, and so it is with all who faithfully bear the burden of suffering and death. Though they may seem crushed and dead, they will yet bear beautiful flowers and glorious fruits of eternal life.

–Sadhu Sundar Singh

Being means: not numbering and counting, but ripening like a tree, which doesn’t force its sap, and stands confidently in the storms of spring, not afraid that afterward summer may not come. It does come. But it comes only to those who are patient, who are there as if eternity lay before them, so unconcernedly silent and vast. I learn it every day of my life, learn it with pain I am grateful for: patience is everything!

–Rainer Maria Rilke

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Ah, the last day of February–it is warming up but the clouds are back. Our flyover weather guru Dave Murray tells us that the “see-saw pattern of the winter” will continue into at least the beginning of the spring season. It was ever thus. Yesterday I returned a book to our west campus library–walking the block and a half there and back without a coat. The wind whipped my hair around and I arrived back at my office with that wind-blown, right-off-the-range look–a disheveled old lady. Well, I do the best I can to stay “sheveled,” but sometimes it is a losing battle.

It seems comfortable to sink down on a sofa in a corner, to look, to listen. Then it happens that two figures standing with their backs against the window appear against the branches of a spreading tree. With a shock of emotion one feels ‘There are figures without features robed in beauty’. In the pause that follows while the ripples spread, the girl to whom one should be talking says to herself, ‘He is old’. But she is wrong. It is not age; it is that a drop has fallen; another drop. Time has given the arrangement another shake. Out we creep from the arch of the currant leaves, out into a wider world. The true order of things – this is our perpetual illusion – is now apparent. Thus in a moment, in a drawing-room, our life adjusts itself to the majestic march of day across the sky.

–Virginia Woolf, The Waves

Woodcuts are by Walter J. Phillips and Erich Buchwald-Zinnwald.

He that throws a stone at another, hits himself

by chuckofish

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Today on the Episcopal calendar of saints we celebrate the life of George Herbert, English poet and parson (1593-1633). Best known for his wonderful poetry, he also wrote a volume for parish clergy,  A Country Parson. Here is section  XXVIII, The Parson in Contempt, which seems very apropos today:

The Country Parson knows well, that both for the general ignominy which is cast upon the profession, and much more for those rules, which out of his choysest judgment he hath resolved to observe, and which are described in this Book, he must be despised; because this hath been the portion of God his Master, and of Gods Saints his Brethren, and this is foretold, that it shall be so still, until things be no more. Nevertheless, according to the Apostles rule, he endeavours that none shall despise him; especially in his own Parish he suffers it not to his utmost power; for that, where contempt is, there is no room for instruction. This he procures, first by his holy and unblameable life; which carries a reverence with it, even above contempt. Secondly, by a courteous carriage, & winning behaviour: he that will be respected, must respect; doing kindnesses, but receiving none; at least of those, who are apt to despise: for this argues a height and eminency of mind, which is not easily despised, except it degenerate to pride. Thirdly, by a bold and impartial reproof, even of the best in the Parish, when occasion requires: for this may produce hatred in those that are reproved, but never contempt either in them, or others. Lastly, if the contempt shall proceed so far as to do any thing punishable by law, as contempt is apt to do, if it be not thwarted, the Parson having a due respect both to the person, and to the cause, referreth the whole matter to the examination, and punishment of those which are in Authority, that so the sentence lighting upon one, the example may reach to all. But if the Contempt be not punishable by Law, or being so, the Parson think it in his discretion either unfit, or bootelesse to contend, then when any despises him, he takes it either in an humble way, saying nothing at all; or else in a slighting way, shewing that reproaches touch him no more, then a stone thrown against heaven, where he is, and lives; or in a sad way, grieved at his own, and others sins, which continually break Gods Laws, and dishonour him with those mouths, which he continually fills, and feeds: or else in a doctrinal way, saying to the contemner, Alas, why do you thus? you hurt your self, not me; he that throws a stone at another, hits himself; and so between gentle reasoning, and pitying, he overcomes the evil: or lastly, in a Triumphant way, being glad, and Joyful, that he is made conformable to his Master; and being in the world as he was, hath this undoubted pledge of his salvation. These are the five shields, wherewith the Godly receive the darts of the wicked; leaving anger, and retorting, and revenge to the children of the world, whom another’s ill mastereth, and leadeth captive without any resistance, even in resistance, to the same destruction. For while they resist the person that reviles, they resist not the evil which takes hold of them, and is far the worse enemy.

Speaking of saints, we don’t need to remind you that Dolly Parton is awesome, but this is very cool.

Have a good day!

“Leave the gun. Take the cannoli.”*

by chuckofish

After raining all week, it rained all day Saturday and our front yard was literally a lake. On Sunday morning, however, a great bright orb appeared in the sky, and proceeded to dry everything up. It was nice to see the sun after such a long time. Of course, there are now signs of spring everywhere.

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But we mustn’t get ahead of ourselves.

I re-read The Last Kind Words Saloon by Larry McMurtry. It is a very short novell(a) about Charles Goodnight, Wyatt Earp, Doc Holiday, Buffalo Bill, various women and Indians. McMurtry is long past his Lonesome Dove powers, but there is something about his books that soothes my soul. When I finished that, I started Goodbye My Lovely by my hero, Raymond Chandler. I have a whole pile of current novels to read, but I just can’t seem to want to read them.

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A couple of weeks ago, I gave my Valentine the DVD set of the three Godfather movies, because it had occurred to me that I had never actually seen The Godfather (1972) in its entirety. We watched it Saturday night. I remember when my parents went to see it. (I was deemed too young.) They didn’t love it, but they were somewhat impressed I think. It was new and different and shocking for the time.

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It holds up after all these years, but I can’t say I loved it or anything. I guess I just do not understand gangster movies or their appeal. They are about criminals, violent sick criminals. With whom am I supposed to identify? Much less care about? The OM says their appeal has to do with people’s vicarious desire to kill/do violence to their enemies without consequences. Really? Yikes. And why did Marlon Brando win an Oscar for that role? If anyone deserved an Oscar it was Al Pacino who was the center of the film. He is really good–you can follow the arc of his character, how he changes, how his eyes deaden, how he becomes a criminal. [According to IMDB, Pacino did not attend the Oscar ceremony in protest of perceived category fraud. As his performance reflected greater screen time than that of his co-star Marlon Brando, Pacino believed he should have received a nomination for Best Actor in a Leading Role. Well, welcome to Hollywood, Al. You were robbed.] The movie has a very good cast–James Caan, Robert Duvall, Diane Keaton. Well, now I’ve seen it.

I went to church on Sunday–rite I for Lent–and enjoyed the service except for an overabundance of virtue-signaling in the sermon by our associate rector. Saints preserve me. The ushers were also annoyingly loud out in the narthex during the sermon, and I was seriously contemplating going out to tell them to please shut the heck up, but was saved from having to do so when my friend Carla got up and went and did it first! You go, girl. We all know that guys want to usher so they don’t have to sit through the service, but gabbing in the narthex is not okay.

While I was sitting in church during this penitential season, I couldn’t help but think some more about The Godfather, especially the sickening baptism scene, the climax of the film. You remember: while the baptism of Michael Corleone’s goddaughter is being enacted in some ornate Catholic church, the elaborate murders of the heads of the five New York mafia families are  simultaneously going on, orchestrated by Michael.  In essence, he is being baptized twice: once as he renews his own baptismal vows, and secondly as he is “baptized” into organized crime as the new don.

This is all very well and brilliant film-making, blah, blah, blah, oh the irony. But no thank you. Just not my cup of tea I guess.

When I got home from church, I convinced the OM to take a drive down to Ted Drewes–our first of the year.

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My mocha concrete hit the spot. The OM did a little advertising for the boy.

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I spent quite some time washing some more 30-year old toys I unearthed, but sadly, the wee babes didn’t come over as planned–sad face–so I don’t have any cute pictures. C’est la vie. We roll with the punches.

So it’s back to the salt mine today. Have a good Monday.

*Clemenza in The Godfather

You close the door and start the motor, I roll the window down*

by chuckofish

No time for a post today — I’m off to Ogdensburg for the annual Clerks’ Records Review and then I have to rush home to attend a memorial service. In the meantime, enjoy this tune

and don’t spend too much time looking in the rear view mirror.

*Boy, “Drive Darling, Drive”

I’m gonna ride

by chuckofish

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It has been a gray, gloomy week and there seems to be more of the same in store for us in flyover country. Everyone says we need the rain and that is surely true, but, gee, a glimpse of the sun would be quite welcome.

This weekend I plan to hunker down and do some work around the old manse.

I think I will get out my unfinished needlepoint projects and choose one to work on.

Then I may catch up on John Crist videos. This was funny:

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Nice to know there are kids over-dosing on John Crist videos and not heroin. Speaking of obsessed, the wee babes are very into the Spirit Netflix show.

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Especially little Lottie.IMG_2599.jpegAnyway, if you have young children, you might want to check out this show on Netflix. I hear it is awesome.

It’s a whole thing. We even gave Lottie the Spirit plush toy for Valentine’s Day.

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Well…hopefully, they can tear themselves away long enough to come over to our house on Sunday for dinner.

Happy Friday!

“Even so, come, Lord Jesus.”

by chuckofish

I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last.

14 Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city.

15 For without are dogs, and sorcerers, and whoremongers, and murderers, and idolaters, and whosoever loveth and maketh a lie.

16 I Jesus have sent mine angel to testify unto you these things in the churches. I am the root and the offspring of David, and the bright and morning star.

17 And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.

18 For I testify unto every man that heareth the words of the prophecy of this book, If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book:

19 And if any man shall take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part out of the book of life, and out of the holy city, and from the things which are written in this book.

20 He which testifieth these things saith, Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.

21 The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen.

–Revelation 22: 13–21 (the last page of the Bible)

Well, Billy Graham has died at the age of 99. He always said, “I’ve read the last page of the Bible, it’s all going to turn out all right.”

We know that he is where he longed to be. “My home is in Heaven. I’m just traveling through this world,” he said.

But we will miss him, won’t we? Just knowing he was still there was reassuring.

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“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.” (2 Timothy 4:7-8)

I am reminded of how Billy Graham went to visit the dying Steve McQueen and pray with him. As they parted, so the story goes, Steve said, “I’ll see you in Heaven.”

I’m sure there was quite a delegation there to greet Billy.

[Here is a nice testimony about Billy and Ruth. Be sure to read this story about Tommy James (of the Shondells) and his conversion experience. Here’s something from Wheaton College. Here’s what the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church had to say about Billy Graham yesterday. And this is a classic.]

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“I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.”*

by chuckofish

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I have been super busy at work lately.

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Thankfully my office is a pleasant space filled with lovely things I have brought from home.

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And thankfully I like my job.

Each day I live I thank the Lord
I do the work I love;
And in it find a rich reward,
All price and praise above.
For few may do the work they love,
The fond unique employ,
That fits them as a hand a glove,
And gives them joy.

Oh gentlefolk, do you and you
Who toil for daily hire,
Consider that the job you do
Is to your heart’s desire?
Aye, though you are to it resigned,
And will no duty shirk,
Oh do you in your private mind
Adore your work?

Twice happy man whose job is joy,
Whose hand and heart combine,
In brave and excellent employ
As radiantly as mine!
But oh the weary, dreary day,
The wear and tear and irk
Of countless souls who cannot say:
‘I love my work.’

–Robert Service

And remember: “If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself, tell yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches; for to the creator there is no poverty and no poor indifferent place.”  (Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet)

*Philippians 4:13