dual personalities

March 22, 2017

How are things in Glocca Morra?

by chuckofish

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Daughter #2 made it safely to flyover land and to my office yesterday where she graded mid-terms and I got some work done.

In the afternoon we went to the hospital to see the both wee babes.

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Later the boy came over to our house with Lottiebelle for dinner (daughter #3 was in class) and we had more time to hold and stare. Nothing better.

Today, we repeat. Have a good one!

Behold, children are a gift of the LORD,
The fruit of the womb is a reward.

Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one’s youth.

How blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them;
They will not be ashamed
When they speak with their enemies in the gate.

Psalm 127: 3-5

3 Comments
March 21, 2017

“Such rock-ribb’d hills our own New-England gave To mould her sons as rugged and as brave”*

by chuckofish

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Did you know that today is World Poetry Day? Me neither.

“Poetry reaffirms our common humanity by revealing to us that individuals, everywhere in the world, share the same questions and feelings. Poetry is the mainstay of oral tradition and, over centuries, can communicate the innermost values of diverse cultures.”

Thanks, UNESCO, for reminding us all.

Of course, the world could not totally agree on when to hold Poetry Day. It is celebrated in October in the UK. Also, FYI, April is National Poetry Month in the U.S. and Canada.

So why don’t we all just agree that every day is poetry day! Here’s a good one for today (“Monadnock Through the Trees” by Edward Arlington Robinson):

Before there was in Egypt any sound
Of those who reared a more prodigious means
For the self-heavy sleep of kings and queens
Than hitherto had mocked the most renowned,—
Unvisioned here and waiting to be found,
Alone, amid remote and older scenes,
You loomed above ancestral evergreens
Before there were the first of us around.

And when the last of us, if we know how,
See farther from ourselves than we do now,
Assured with other sight than heretofore
That we have done our mortal best and worst,—
Your calm will be the same as when the first
Assyrians went howling south to war.

I like the image of old Monadnock as a pyramid. And the last two line are great, don’t you agree? Enjoy your Tuesday!

*H.P. Lovecraft wrote poetry too–who knew? Check out “To Templeton and Monadnock”. The painting of Monadnock is by Dave Dodge.

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March 20, 2017

“Hope does not disappoint us”*

by chuckofish

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I didn’t get to see daughter #1 run the New York City Half Marathon on Sunday, but, thank goodness, she had friends to cheer her on and meet her at the finish! You go, girl! I downloaded the app and followed her progress on my phone–aren’t you impressed?

I got my hair cut, went to an estate sale in the neighborhood, went to the NICU to see the handsome little bud,

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went to Steak ‘N Shake with the OM, cleaned the house, did laundry, went to church, had lunch with my pal Becky, and had the boy and daughter #3 over to dinner…with Lottie for the first time!

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The weeks are busy, indeed, but sometimes the weekends are busier. I guess I live in a

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And now it is Monday and it’s back to the salt mine! Daughter # 2 arrives tomorrow!

*Romans 5: 3-5 (from the Sunday lectionary): More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us.

8 Comments
March 18, 2017

“In the falling quiet there was no sky or earth, only snow lifting on the wind.”*

by chuckofish

On Tuesday and Wednesday this week we got the blizzard that the weather people mistakenly forecast for NYC. All three of my sons — spread out though they are from DC to Syracuse to northern Vermont — enjoyed days off. Almost everything up here shut down: all the schools, both state universities and most state-run organizations closed; the mail went undelivered, and the garbage uncollected. By contrast, the DH and I received multiple emails reminding us that classes at our universities had NOT been cancelled. Oh, well. What’s 20 plus inches of snow or instructions from the state police to stay home? The show must go on…

Driving home from work on Tuesday in whiteout conditions was exciting to say the least. Unfortunately, my photos don’t capture the howling winds that caused all the problems, but this picture does.

I got this from Google. It’s not my storm, but it could be.

I felt as if I belonged in an arctic horror movie — something with wolves and polar bears lurking. Still, it wasn’t all bad.

Despite the back-breaking shoveling that this storm required afterwards, it also restored my faith in people. Everyone pitched in to help each other. People stopped to chat and commiserate. My heroic snowblowing neighbors rescued the rest of us after the snowplows walled off our driveways. After the storm stranded one family in New Hampshire, several of us dug out their driveway, sidewalk and porch so they could get in when they returned.  The work was satisfying and the cameraderie decidedly uplifting.

Now we have blue skies, killer icicles (note how some have detached and stabbed the snow),

and ice-dam floods. In one nearby town, a mile-long ice dam diverted the river onto the streets with predictable results.

picture from North Country Public Radio

Never mind, spring break began yesterday, and although I have plenty of work to keep me occupied, none of it involves grading. Life is good!

*Truman Capote, “Miriam”

3 Comments
March 17, 2017

“Oh, Starbuck! it is a mild, mild wind, and a mild looking sky.”*

by chuckofish

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“Children are still the way you were as a child, sad and happy in just the same way–and if you think of your childhood, you once again live among them, among the solitary children.”

― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

It has been a busy week. Little Lottiebelle went home.

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She also had her first appointment at the pediatrician’s office.

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The little guy had to stay in the NICU, but he got a new pair of little man boat shoes. OMG. Can you stand it?

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He came through his hernia surgery yesterday like a champ. We are hoping he’ll come home next week.

This weekend I’m going to get ready for the arrival of daughter #1 on Tuesday and then daughter #1 on Friday for a bridal shower next Saturday. You know, this means stocking the fridge/pantry with Diet Coke, white wine, leafy greens, and Flaming Hot Cheetos.

I’ll be ready.

In the meantime, did you know that S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders turns 50 this year? It may be time to re-read this classic.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and that poem, that guy that wrote it, he meant you’re gold when you’re a kid, like green. When you’re a kid everything’s new, dawn. It’s just when you get used to everything that it’s day. Like the way you dig sunsets, Pony. That’s gold. Keep that way, it’s a good way to be. I want you to tell Dally to look at one. He’ll probably think you’re crazy, but ask for me. I don’t think he’s ever really seen a sunset. And don’t be so bugged over being a greaser. You still have a lot of time to make yourself be what you want. There’s still lots of good in the world. Tell Dally. I don’t think he knows.

Stay gold, Ponyboy.”

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Have a good weekend!

*Herman Melville, Moby-Dick; the top photo is little ANC III with ANC jr. on a beach in Italy in the mid-1920s

8 Comments
March 16, 2017

It is well with my soul

by chuckofish

Here is a very popular song playing on Christian radio these days:

I admit it always makes me tear up. Every time.

Christian songwriters these days frequently lift lines right from older hymns or, as in this song, reference other songs: “Give me the strength/To be able to sing/It is well with my soul”.

You will recall that “It Is Well With My Soul” is a well known hymn penned by Horatio Spafford and composed by Philip Bass which was first published in Gospel Songs No. 2 by Sankey and Bliss (1876). Everyone from Tennessee Ernie Ford and Mahalia Jackson to Dwight Yoakam and Jars of Clay have recorded it. The Georgia Southern University marching band Southern Pride even plays the song at the end of each win.

I think that’s interesting, but, then, that’s how my mind works.

Nicely done, Dwight. Have a good day. Here’s hoping it is well with your soul.

4 Comments
March 15, 2017

A little Wednesday rant

by chuckofish

On this day in 1956 Lerner and Loewe’s My Fair Lady opened on Broadway. It was a rousing success, setting a record for the longest run of any show on Broadway up to that time. It was followed by a hit London production, a popular film version, and numerous revivals. My Fair Lady has frequently been called “the perfect musical” (according to Wikipedia).

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One wonders if its plot involving a cockney flower girl who takes speech lessons from professor Henry Higgins, a phoneticist, so that she may pass as a lady would resonate today. Would people today even get it? I imagine they would say, What’s wrong with the way Liza speaks? That’s how they talk on TV. What’s a “lady” anyway?

I mean it never ceases to amaze me how the people who are hired for on-air jobs reading the news ever got those jobs in the first place. They all say “git” for “get” and make grammatical errors right and left. And they all look like they are going out clubbing as soon as they get off work. It’s a little much at 7 a.m.

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Remember how in the old days actors took speech lessons to learn how to enunciate and to get rid of unattractive accents? Remember how actors were chosen because they had distinctive or melodious voices? Think of Henry Fonda or Jimmy Stewart or Irene Dunne or Olivia de Havilland or Errol Flynn. Half the time you can’t understand what people are saying in movies anymore. And you thought Marlon Brando mumbled? They all sound like Jean Hagen in Singin’ In the Rain and no one gets that joke either.

Of course, Shaw was making fun of the whole ridiculous upper/lower class set-up, but I do wish we would remember with Professor Higgins that:

“… you are a human being with a soul and the divine gift of articulate speech: that your native language is the language of Shakespeare and Milton and The Bible; and don’t sit there crooning like a bilious pigeon.”

Not to be harsh, but My Fair Lady does seem to have lost its relevance. And that’s a shame.

10 Comments
March 14, 2017

“Well, sister, the time has come for me to ride hard and fast.”*

by chuckofish

Another of my old work friends has passed away. Sigh.

Jane and I hit it off right away when we met fifteen years ago. She was the film guru at our flyover institute and led the Wednesday afternoon movie class for as long as I knew her without a break.

She was from an old flyover family

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and knew everybody and how things worked in our town. We shared many a wink-wink moment. And, of course, she knew a lot about movies and we could talk and talk about our old favorites and more recent ones too. We both loved Paul Newman and John Wayne. We didn’t always agree (she was a fan of Martin Scorcese) but we respected each other’s opinion.

Her movie classes usually had a theme, like Biographies of the Creative Genius or Surprise Endings or Handsome Hunks of Hollywood’s Heyday. Not surprisingly, her courses were very popular.  Last summer she finally offered a course entitled “Jane’s Faves” in which she showed her favorite films in four genres: Red River (1948) (Western), 2001: A Space Odyssey (Sci-Fi), A Star is Born (1954) (Musical), and Dr. Zhivago (1965) (Romance). Her last class was a retrospective of Ingrid Bergman’s career and we chose the movies together.

Tall and willowy and beautiful, Jane became weaker over the years, relying on an oxygen tank, and finally she rode around on a motorized scooter. She never gave up until the very end. When she couldn’t give her class anymore, much less leave her house, she cashed in her chips. A lapsed Episcopalian, she had lost her faith along the way and had decided that there was nothing waiting for her after death–just nothingness, the end. I’m glad her family is going to have a service for her, even if it is at the Ethical Society.

Tonight I will toast Jane and watch Red River in her memory. I remember telling her how smart I thought Montgomery Clift was in it, standing back and never trying to steal a scene from John Wayne, and how, ironically, you can’t keep your eyes off him in that movie. “Yes! Yes!” she said in her raspy voice, her eyes shining.

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Into paradise may the angels lead thee, Jane, and at thy coming may the martyrs receive thee, and bring thee into the holy city Jerusalem.

*Rooster Cogburn in True Grit (1969)

6 Comments
March 13, 2017

“Pardon me for seeing the glass half full”*

by chuckofish

I’m sure you heard that March 10 was the 20th anniversary of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

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Because people in 1997 dressed like that in high school never.

Daughter #1 was in seventh grade in 1997 so, of course, I didn’t let her watch a show about vampires. Daughter #2 was in second grade! Good grief. (I was the Mom who wouldn’t let her seven-year old daughter  go to the cool girl birthday party to see The Spice Girls movie, thus wrecking her social standing for-ever.) Mea culpa. We discovered Buffy later when it was in syndication, and I realized (once again) that I was an idiot and should have let daughter #1 watch such an empowering show for girls. But oh well, we were a little late to the party, but we got there and we are all huge Buffy nerds fans. And if you are not, what is wrong with you?

Anyway, this weekend I watched a good part of season one again. And it was pretty great.

In other news, the OM and I got trapped at home when our garage door broke and we couldn’t get our cars out. (See Buffy marathon above) The repairman didn’t come until 8:30 Saturday night! Well, the door was eventually fixed and I was able to get up (after springing forward an hour) on Sunday morning and drive to church.

The Gospel reading was from John chapter 3 where Nicodemus goes to see Jesus in the dark of night to ask him what’s what. Jesus says, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” It is one of my favorite scripture passages and it made me very happy to hear it. It also made me want to watch the scene in Jesus of Nazareth with Laurence Olivier as Nicodemus. And so I did later in the day.

After church the OM and I went to Schneithorst’s and then we went to see the wee babes in the NICU and held them for an hour. Who needs anxiety medication when you can hold a baby? By the way, Lottie is going home today!

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Here she is without a feeding tube and breathing all on her own, burping after a bottle. She is nearly 7 lbs and has no tape on her face!

The little bud has to have a little hernia operation (not unusual) and then he’ll be ready to come home too.

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He’s breathing on his own too! He weighs 6 lbs 3 oz.!

And it snowed too. Winter is back, but c’est la vie. Have a good week back at the salt mine!

*Rupert Giles, Buffy, Season one, episode three

 

5 Comments
March 11, 2017

Into the Dustbin of History!*

by chuckofish

I recently posted about a necklace that I inherited from my grandmother. Today I’m going to write about another object she left me — a modest wooden trinket box that has always particularly intrigued me.

Until recently all my efforts to determine its origins have failed, but I think I’ve finally figured it out. I believe that it was made by White Russian émigrés to Europe after the Bolshevik Revolution. It certainly compares better to Russian trinket boxes than anything else I’ve seen. Note the overall folk-art style, the simple subject matter,

the snow and incised detail,

and the turned-away figures.

Between time spent in Paris, Italy, and London in the 1920s, our grandmother would have had plenty of opportunity to acquire such a box. The wonder is that she kept it all those years, that my father held on to it, and that it has survived in my boisterous house. Wouldn’t you love to know the story behind it? Was the concierge of their Paris flat a White Russian who made these on the side and gave it to her? Did she just pick it up from a street vendor somewhere? Well, its story may be lost in “the dustbin of history”, but the little object (of negligible monetary value) remains one of my favorite treasures, and I hope that one day I will pass it along to one of my sons.

I think it’s time to re-watch Yul Brynner and Ingrid Bergman in “Anastasia”, don’t you?

*“You are pitiful, isolated individuals! You are bankrupts. Your role is played out. Go where you belong from now on – into the dustbin of history!”  Leon Trotsky (Ha! Little did he know. Leon Trotsky had to flee his own communist regime only to get murdered in Mexico City).

 

4 Comments