dual personalities

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Have a nice weekend

by chuckofish

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Since I will no doubt be stuck at home this weekend due to inclement weather–and today is a snow day–I think I will round up all the Richard Scarry books I have and see if the boy wants to take his copies home to the nursery.

The little, tiny babies won’t be home for awhile…

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…but they’ll be needing books soon, right? Yeah, they will.

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Meanwhile, I am going to try to enjoy staying inside and catching up on all the things that need catching up.

You know, re-organizing my office.

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Putting away the Christmas stained glass which I forgot to do last weekend. Checking to see what other Christmas decorations I missed.

And tonight I’ll toast James Joyce who died on this day in 1941. It was he who said: “I confess that I do not see what good it does to fulminate against the English tyranny while the Roman tyranny occupies the palace of the soul.” [“Ireland, Island of Saints and Sages,” lecture, Università Popolare, Trieste (27 April 1907), printed in James Joyce: Occasional, Critical and Political Writing (2002)]

Good point.

Have a good weekend…It’s a long one too!

By the way

by chuckofish

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Thank you, Billy Graham, for reminding us.

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Some of us seem to have forgotten this.

And also let’s try:

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Have a good Thursday. We are bracing for a winter storm/ice storm–oh, boy! We’ll do our best to keep calm and carry on.

“Most people never run far enough on their first wind to find out they’ve got a second”

by chuckofish

“I am done with great things and big things, great institutions and big success, and I am for those tiny, invisible molecular moral forces that work from individual to individual, creeping through the crannies of the world like so many rootlets, or like the capillary oozing of water, yet which if you give them time, will rend the hardest monuments of man’s pride.”

–William James

Today is the birthday of William James (January 11, 1842 – August 26, 1910) who was an American philosopher and psychologist and a teacher (among his students at Harvard were Theodore Roosevelt, W.E.B. Du Bois, Gertrude Stein, and George Santayana). He was also the brother of Henry James. His godfather was Ralph Waldo Emerson! He went in the spring of 1865 on a scientific expedition up the Amazon River with Louis Agassiz! He is considered to be one of the major figures associated with the philosophical school known as pragmatism,  and is also cited as one of the founders of functional psychology.

Although I cannot say I have read widely in his work or am an expert on William James, I aways liked him.

“Keep the faculty of effort alive in you by a little gratuitous exercise every day. That is, be systematically ascetic or heroic in little unnecessary points, do every day or two something for no other reason than that you would rather not do it, so that when the hour of dire need draws nigh, it may find you not unnerved and untrained to stand the test. So with the man who has daily inured himself to habits of concentrated attention, energetic volition, and self-denial in unnecessary things. He will stand like a tower when everything rocks around him, and when his softer fellow-mortals are winnowed like chaff in the blast.”

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What a good face.

He always seemed to have a lot of common sense. And he understood the importance of just being kind.

So I will toast William James tonight. Join me, right?

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The humble James plot in Cambridge Cemetery

Now King David was old, advanced in age; and they covered him with clothes, but he could not keep warm.*

by chuckofish

 

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Winter is here. I am grateful for my warm house and my Austrian wool coat and my heated car.

I often think of those brave pioneers facing the cold without Gore-Tex coats and down mittens.

“All day the storm lasted. The windows were white and the wind never stopped howling and screaming. It was pleasant in the warm house. Laura and Mary did their lessons, then Pa played the fiddle while Ma rocked and knitted, and bean soup simmered on the stove. All night the storm lasted, and all the next day. Firelight danced out of the stove’s draught, and Pa told stories and played the fiddle.”

–Laura Ingalls Wilder, On the Banks of Plum Creek

I  mean really.

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Take heart though–it’s supposed to get up to 61 degrees today!

*1 Kings 1:1

“Memory is a strange thing”*

by chuckofish

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Thirty years ago: the boy, suitably attired in black tie with his Auntie DP at Christmas.

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Yesterday: the boy with little Lottie in the NICU. Ah, sunrise, sunset…

I spent my weekend catching  up at home, putting everything back in pre-holiday order. But, without fail, there is always something I cannot find and sure enough, this year was no different. C’est la vie. I am coping.

We also celebrated daughter #3’s Epiphany birthday and had a gourmet meatloaf meal, because she is so easy to please. Then we watched 3 Godfathers. Is she not the best daughter-in-law ever?

The OM and I also watched a couple of other movies this weekend. Our favorite was Hell or High Water (2016) starring Chris Pine and Ben Foster as two modern-day bank-robbing brothers set on saving the family ranch. Jeff Bridges plays the Texas Ranger bent on catching them.

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Directed by the unknown-to-me Scotsman David Mackenzie and with a screenplay by actor/writer Taylor Sheridan (he was in Sons of Anarchy), it gets high fives from me. I appreciated its excellent, intelligent screenplay featuring interesting, relatable characters and a plot that kept me guessing. The acting was top-notch. My only complaint was the sound mixing, which like most modern movies, stunk–i.e. it is frequently difficult to understand what people are saying. And what they were saying was worth hearing, for once.

We also saw Arrival (2016), which was also very good and thought-provoking too. It stars Amy Adams and Jeremy Renner. It is science fiction, however, and not really my thing. My DP really liked it though and recommended it highly to me, so I pass that along.

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I will also note that we saw La La Land (2016) last week, which has received rave reviews and a lot of hype. Directed by newcomer Damian Chazelle and starring the appealing Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling, it is about two young people struggling to make it in L.A. I didn’t buy any of it.

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Not to be harsh, but I found it amateurish and forgettable in every way. Rent Singin’ In the Rain if you want to see a good musical.

P.S. You can bet that La  La Land will win all the Academy Awards this year (as it swept the Golden Globes), and that is why I no longer watch the show.

*Dr. Louise Banks in Arrival

For your viewing pleasure…

by chuckofish

How was your first week of 2017? Have you stuck with your New Year’s resolutions? Like my DP, I don’t really go in for such things, but I am trying to start some new habits; namely, walking for 30  minutes a day, drinking more water, and organizing the house. I figure that if I don’t call those ‘resolutions’ I might actually do them. Time will tell.

Aside from those modest attempts at self improvement, I’m pretty much sticking to my old habits, including Netflix, Amazon Prime, and Acorn TV (okay, that’s new. I got a year’s subscription for Christmas), where I spend a lot of time looking for something new and different, but not full of gratuitous sex, violence, and absurd plot twists. Here are a couple of recent discoveries.

Brokenwood Mysteries (Acorn TV). This is a nice cop show from New Zealand. It takes place in the small rural town of Brokenwood, where an irascible, middle-aged detective and his young, blond, female side-kick solve murders.

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Sound familiar? He even drives a vintage car and listens to  music (in this case country  music) that no one else likes. There isn’t much violence, personal conflict, or action. It’s incredibly pleasant, although admittedly, if it didn’t have the New Zealand novelty factor, I might not watch. The big mystery — at least to me — is those weird Kiwi accents. What happened to the short e? It does not exist. Every e sounds like an i, thus “I entered the tent to establish his whereabouts” becomes “I intered the tint to istablish his whirabouts”. Go figure.

Conspiracy of Faith: a Department Q Mystery (Netflix). For those of you who like Jussi Adler-Olsen’s Carl Mørck mysteries, this is a TV version of one of the recent (2013) books.

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I confess that neither main character is as I pictured, but it’s still worth a watch if you want something slightly grittier than “Brokenwood” but not too far out there.

Disorder (Netflix). This French film stars Belgian actor, Matthias Schoenaerts, and German actress, Diane Kruger, in what seems at first like a very tired plot: former soldier Schoenaerts, suffering from PTSD, becomes the bodyguard to the wife (Kruger) and young son of an arms dealer. Bad guys come after them.

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It’s actually really well done, stylishly shot, and (spoiler) it  has no sex, surprisingly little violence, and loads of tension.  I really liked this movie and recommend it to all.  Schoenaerts’ performance is particularly good.

Last and least, we have Black Water (Amazon), an Australian movie allegedly “inspired by frightening true events”, in which three people (husband, wife, and wife’s sister) fight for their lives against a man-eating crocodile when their boat overturns and leaves them trapped in a mangrove swamp in remotest northern Australia. What sets this movie apart from the run-of-the-mill animal horror movie is the fact that it was filmed on location and they used a real (heavily sedated) 14 foot crocodile. Who can blame the actress for looking a little nervous, even with the croc wrangler right there next to her.

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Considering the premise, it was quite restrained, and I did not hate myself for watching the whole thing, so hey, that’s something. The film also teaches one very important lesson: never, never visit northern Australia!

Those are my media pics for now. Have a wonderful weekend and do let me know your reactions if you watch any of these (try Disorder).

“Winter is coming”*

by chuckofish

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We had our first snow of the season Wednesday night. Of course, the local media had everyone whipped up into a frenzy of anticipation, some schools even closing preemptively the night before.

We received half an inch or so. Most of the heavier snow slid south of our flyover region. Par for the course.

Personally, I was fine with the half inch. I have a lot to do this weekend and it doesn’t all involve staying home and wrapping things in tissue paper as I undeck the halls.

I also intend to spend some more time with the books I received this Christmas and which I have already been enjoying.

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I also am reading Just Kids by Patti Smith, which I bought for myself. In this National Book Award-winning memoir, Patti offers a fascinating glimpse into her life and  relationship with the controversial artist/photographer Robert Mapplethorpe in the epochal days of New York City and the Chelsea Hotel in the late sixties and seventies.

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I always kind of liked Patti Smith and now I know why. She may have been the queen of punk in her day, but she is a deep soul.

“I understood that what matters is the work: the string of words propelled by God becoming a poem, the weave of color and graphite scrawled upon the sheet that magnifies His motion. To achieve within the work a perfect balance of faith and execution. From this state of mind comes a light, life-changed.”

I highly recommend her book.

Here are some more great suggestions for reading material in 2017.

And don’t forget that today is the feast of Epiphany, which means it is time to watch 3 Godfathers (1948), John Ford’s classic film about three men on the lam with a baby in the old West.

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I think we will enjoy it even more than usual this year…

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Have a great weekend!

*George R.R. Martin

A few nice things

by chuckofish

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Well, we ended up with quite a few Christmas cards this year, and isn’t that  nice?

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Another nice thing is that daughter #1 organized all the CDs while she was home! Daughter #1 likes to play DJ with our collection and we did have at least one dance party–so the CDs were in quite a state of disarray, as you can imagine. Anyway, this is a huge job, which entails reuniting the CDs with their correct cases and then putting them back in the right section on the shelf. Awesome.

Last night I took down the Christmas trees so that I could drag them out to the curb for pick-up today. This weekend I’ll put everything away. And take down the festive outdoor lights.

Not so nice, but inevitable.

It would be nice to toast Robert Duvall tonight on his 86th birthday and watch one of his many great movies.  Truly the list is amazing! He was in everything from To Kill a Mockingbird, to True Grit, MASH, The Godfather, Apocalypse Now, Network, The Natural, Sling Blade, The Apostle, Lucky You, and on and on…What a career! I think it might be time for a little Lonesome Dove.

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“The older the violin, the sweeter the music.”

Have a nice day!

 

Sipping chicken soup with rice*

by chuckofish

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A new year and a new calendar! I am not one for resolutions, as you know, but I am thinking of having a Drynuary.

Have you heard of Drynuary? It’s when you take the month of January off from drinking or “spending the entire bleak stretch of January totally sober as a sort of counterweight to holiday overindulgences.”

Experts say that it just leads to bingeing as soon as the calendar hits February 1, but, despite its stupid name, it seems like a worthwhile endeavor to me. It’s time to get back into my pre-holiday routine.

I’m also going to work on a needlepoint project and watch some favorite Debbie Reynolds movies…How the West Was Won (1962)

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Tammy and the Bachelor (1957) which is surprisingly affecting,

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and my personal favorite, My Six Loves (1963)–the one about the burned out Broadway star who goes to the country for a rest and finds six runaway kids living on her property.

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In other words, I’m going to take it a little easy as work heats up and the weather turns wintery.

*In January it’s so nice,
While slipping on the sliding ice,
To sip hot chicken soup with rice.
Sipping once, sipping twice,
Sipping chicken soup with rice.

(Maurice Sendak)

Incarnate words

by chuckofish

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If God speaks anywhere, it is into our personal lives that he speaks. Someone we love dies, say. Some unforeseen act of kindness or cruelty touches the heart or makes the blood run cold. We fail a friend, or a friend fails us, and we are appalled at the capacity we all of us have for estranging the very people in our lives we need the most. Or maybe nothing extraordinary happens at all — just one day following another, helter-skelter, in the manner of days. We sleep and dream. We wake. We work. We remember and forget. We have fun and are depressed. And into the thick of it, or out of the thick of it, at moments of even the most humdrum of our days, God speaks. But what do I mean by saying that God speaks? He speaks not just through the sounds we hear, of course, but through events in all their complexity and variety, through the harmonies and disharmonies and counterpoint of all that happens. As to the meaning of what he says, there are times that we are apt to think we know. Adolf Hitler dies a suicide in his bunker with the Third Reich going up in flames all around him, and what God is saying about the wages of sin seems clear enough. Or Albert Schweitzer renounces fame as a theologian and musician for a medical mission in Africa, where he ends up even more famous still as one of the great near-saints of Protestantism; and again we are tempted to see God’s meaning as clarity itself. But what is God saying through a good man’s suicide? What about the danger of the proclaimed saint’s becoming a kind of religious prima donna as proud of his own humility as a peacock of its tail? What about sin itself as a means of grace? What about grace, when misappropriated and misunderstood, becoming an occasion for sin? To try to express in even the most insightful and theologically sophisticated terms the meaning of what God speaks through the events of our lives is as precarious a business as to try to express the meaning of the sound of rain on the roof or the spectacle of the setting sun. But I choose to believe that he speaks nonetheless, and the reason that his words are impossible to capture in human language is of course that they are ultimately always incarnate words. They are words fleshed out in the everydayness no less than in the crises of our own experience.

–Frederick Buechner, The Sacred Journey

 The painting is  The Black Sea at Night by Ivan Aivazovsky