O God, you have bound us together in a common life. Help us, in the midst of our struggles for justice and truth, to confront one another without hatred or bitterness, and to work together with mutual forbearance and respect; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
–BCP
On Saturday we bid adieu to an old friend–our 10-year old Subaru.
I have been through a lot with this great car, including a harrowing trip through the mountains of West Virginia in the pouring rain. (I still have flash-backs!) I have never been so scared in my life, but my trusty Subaru (and God and daughter #1 as co-pilots) got me through physically and psychologically intact.
It was the car with the college stickers of my three children.
I really loved this car. It toted a lot of estate sale finds and auction house purchases and college gear back and forth over the years.
As a family we tend to anthropomorphize our cars, even giving them names. I felt genuine sadness and even guilt waving goodbye at the dealership.
But say hello to Giles!
Is this 2015 Mini Cooper in British racing green not perfect?
As you are no doubt aware, Buffalo got hit with a huge winter storm earlier this week.
this is what they mean by “lake effect”
It rolled in off the lake and muffled everything in a blanket of white.
By the time it was over, some places were buried under more than six feet of snow.
from Wunderground.com
There’s a reason we always referred to Buffalo as the “city God forgot.” As of yesterday, the main highways going to the city were still closed. Seriously, how does one dig out of something like that?
Now that the snow has stopped and it has warmed up, they’re expecting rain, flooding, and roof collapses. Poor Buffalo. It makes me really grateful (that good Thanksgiving word) to live beyond the normal reach of lake effect snow. We only got about three inches.
But all this talk of snow has put me in mind of Robert Falcon Scott and his ill-fated expedition to reach the south pole.
The team celebrates before heading out into the snow
Son #2 has recently been reading Scott’s diary and last letters, which he shared with me — stirring stuff and very sad. Once they realized they weren’t going to make it, they wrote letter after letter to their friends and relatives in the hope that someone would find their bodies and deliver the letters someday. In one of these Scott famously wrote:
but for my own sake I do not regret this journey, which has shown that Englishmen can endure hardships, help one another, and meet death with as great a fortitude as ever in the past. We took risks, we knew we took them; things have come out against us, and therefore we have no cause for complaint, but bow to the will of providence, determined still to do our best to the last … Had we lived, I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance, and courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman. These rough notes and our dead bodies must tell the tale, but surely, surely, a great rich country like ours will see that those who are dependent on us are properly provided for.
Without exception, every one of Scott’s letters focused on what would become of the wives and children whom the expedition left behind. His greatest fear was that they should not have the means to survive and that the children would not get an appropriate education or chance to do well in life. Maybe Scott was not the most successful explorer, but he was certainly a really good guy.
As we head into Thanksgiving week, be grateful — that you are not doomed in some vast frozen landscape, that you and yours have food, warmth, and shelter, and perhaps most of all, that you don’t live in Buffalo!
Travel safely all you holiday travelers and that includes son #2 who is picking up son #3 from college in Vermont today (with sleet in the forecast). And for those who cannot be with family (son #1 and nieces?), may you at least get to relax a little with friends. You can always spend an afternoon re-reading Dual Personalities.
*”At the Hundredth Meridian”, The Tragically Hip
Because Mike Nichols (November 6, 1931 – November 19, 2014) died yesterday, I thought I would choose one of his films as my Friday movie pick.
The winner of an Emmy, a Grammy, an Oscar and a Tony, he was definitely one of the cool kids. He made 22 movies, but I’m sorry to say I’m not really a fan of any of them.
Two of his films took place at or near Smith College. Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966) was filmed in a house across from Sage Hall. The swing in the yard was still there 10 years later when I was a student there. It was fun to imagine Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton hanging out on my campus.
This is a great film, I suppose, but difficult to watch–all that drunken mean-ness and diatribe–somehow it always hit a little too close to home. So although I can recommend it, I won’t be watching myself.
Carnal Knowledge (1971) is about two Amherst College roommates, played by Jack Nicholson and Art Garfunkel, and their lives after they graduate. I saw it thirty years ago–because part of it had been filmed at Smith–and was appalled by it. I’m sure it wouldn’t shock me now, but it did then.
Candace Bergen as a Smith girl.
Of course, The Graduate (1967) is a great favorite of many people, but I am not one of them. Dustin Hoffman just seems so mis-cast to me.
Working Girl (1988) starring Melanie Griffith is a cute movie worth watching to see Alec Baldwin in a very early part as Tess’s tacky Irish boyfriend. Joan Cusack is pretty great too.
It’s all about the hair.
I may see if I can find this movie to watch, but I seem to remember that the big lesson learned is to dress for success and tone down the hair while you’re at it. Sigourney Weaver plays a grade A bee-atch who tries to steal night school-educated Melanie’s good ideas, but she shows her, right? Harrison Ford is the stand-up guy who looks uncomfortable in a suit. Everyone thought this movie was so radical. It was really just a 1930s re-tread updated a little.
So what to recommend? How about “Lady Bouvier’s Lover” from season five of The Simpsons? Mrs. Bouvier!!
Have a great weekend! I’ll be getting ready for the big feast on Thursday which will be at my house this year. What about you?
*Tess McGill (Melanie Griffith) in Working Girl
Happy Anniversary to Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip who were married at Westminster Abbey on November 20, 1947.
You’re looking good, kids!
It is also the birthday of our hipster vice president.
He’s turning 72. Biden has received honorary degrees from the University of Scranton, Saint Joseph’s University, Widener University School of Law, and Emerson College. High fives all around.
Yesterday’s best local headline:
Here’s the whole story.
And this is pretty great:
Hey, life is good. Be thankful.
Yesterday marked our 1000th post. Gee whiz.
A big thank you to our loyal followers for sticking with us.
I guess I know who we’ll be toasting tonight!
*Shakespeare, As You Like It
Today is the birthday of Clarence Day (November 18, 1874–December 28, 1935), the author of Life With Father and long-time contributor to The New Yorker.
Born in New York City, he attended St. Paul’s School and Yale, where he edited the humor magazine. He was an Episcopalian. But bedridden with arthritis for the last 23 years of his life, he was barely able to hold a pencil. Isn’t it amazing that he wrote such hilarious material?
Scenes from Life With Father, along with its 1932 predecessor, God and My Father, and its 1937 sequel, Life with Mother, published posthumously, were the basis for the 1939 play by Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse, which became one of Broadway’s longest-running non-musical hits. In 1947—the year the play ended on Broadway—it was made into a wonderful film starring William Powell and Irene Dunne and directed by Michael Curtiz.
Sadly, Day died in 1935, never having realized the sensational success of his book or the play and movie based on it.
We always got a big kick out of it, especially all the poking fun at Episcopalians:
Mary: That’s funny. The words are the same, but it’s the wrong tune.
Clarence Day: Oh, it can’t be the wrong tune. We sing it exactly that way in church.
Mary: We don’t sing it that way in the Methodist Church. You see, we’re Methodist.
Clarence Day: Oh, that’s too bad. Oh, I don’t mean it’s too bad that you’re a Methodist. Anybody’s got a right to be anything they want, but what I mean is, we’re… *Episcopalians*.
Clarence Day is buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx.
That would be an interesting place to visit, don’t you think? A rural cemetery, it is one of the largest in New York City and is a designated historic landmark. There are lots of famous people buried there including Fiorello La Guardia, Irving Berlin, Damon Runyon…and Herman Melville! But I digress.
In the meantime, I’ll toast ol’ Clarence tonight (along with his mother and Father).
*Life With Father (1947)
Yes, the Christmas cacti are blooming! Can it really be that time of year again?
It must be…’cause it snowed too!
Note the leaf bags!
The anthem at the Offertory at church on Sunday was the poem “Love” by George Herbert (1593-1632) which is a particularly lovely one:
Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lacked anything.
“A guest,” I answered, “worthy to be here”:
Love said, “You shall be he.”
“I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
I cannot look on thee.”
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
“Who made the eyes but I?”
“Truth, Lord; but I have marred them; let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.”
“And know you not,” says Love, “who bore the blame?”
“My dear, then I will serve.”
“You must sit down,” says Love, “and taste my meat.”
So I did sit and eat.
It snowed all day, but never amounted to too much. Time to get serious, though, about the snowball descent to the end of the year.
Have a good week!
*Hymn #680, Isaac Watts
My dual personality’s post yesterday so captured my imagination that I was instantly tempted to continue the pet peeve theme today. I can’t deny that I have plenty of them. I can get really, really annoyed by women who toss their paper towels carelessly on the floor of the bathroom, guys who spit on the carpet, colleagues who feel superior to benighted fools who actually believe in God, and people at church who loudly alter personal pronouns and change Father to Creator in hymns and prayers. Okay, yes, I could go on and on. But I won’t, because it occurred to me that this habitually negative dual personality (most unlike her sister in this respect) could use an exercise in gratitude. Also, with Thanksgiving looming, gratitude is seasonally appropriate. Leaving aside the obvious ones like family, friends, God, country, and health, here we go in no particular order.
1. Touch. The feel of warm blankets and sheepskin. I live in the North Country and we keep the house chilly or, more accurately, the house keeps cold whether we like it or not. But if you can get tucked up cozy warm, a fine rest awaits.
Tim fast asleep in front of the fire at our camp
2. The sight and sound of the seasons (so much alliteration!). I love to hear migrating geese honk and watch their wavering Vs as they fly overhead.
Snow Geese in flight. Photo from Northcountrynow.com
3. Words. They’re like friends or favorite authors. It’s as wonderful to find new ones as it is to rediscover those with which we have lost touch.
Gormenghast…Withdrawn and ruinous it broods in umbra: the immemorial masonry: the towers, the tracts. Is all corroding? No. Through an avenue of spires a zephyr floats; a bird whistles; a freshet beats away from a choked river. Deep in a fist of stone a doll’s hand wriggles, warm rebellious on the frozen palm. A shadow shifts its length. A spider stirs… And darkness winds between the characters. (Mervyn Peake, Gormenghast)
4. Smell. Fresh bread, cookies baking, a wood fire…
5. Taste. Really good coffee or tea; excellent cheese; a fine glass of red wine…and, yes, my latest addiction, gum drops.
6. Music. What would we do without it? Even German heavy metal has it’s place, right boys?
but if you’re feeling less Teutonic, you might want to try this blast from the past I recently rediscovered
Surprise, surprise…I have discovered that I can more easily come up with things to be grateful for than I can things that annoy me! There’s hope for me after all. Now I feel ready to start my work day. I’ll be writing, so wish me fluency and the ability to formulate my argument well.
Have a great and grateful weekend!
Did you see this funny post on the subject of pet peeves by Emily McDowell on Cup of Jo yesterday?
It got me thinking about my own pet peeves. Here are a few of mine.
1. Newscasters/journalists who make grammatical errors. Zut alors! It is reaching epidemic proportions and it really drives me crazy. I also hate when TV news reporters mispronounce words, such as “thee-A-ter” and “IN-surance”. I mean really.
2. People who microwave smelly frozen dinners for lunch at work and then the whole place smells disgusting all afternoon.
3. When there are many, many empty spots on the fourth floor of the parking garage and I park far away from everyone and someone comes and parks right next to me.
4. People who use the word “folks”.
5. Overuse of the F-bomb in 21st-century films. Ye gods! Is this really necessary? Do people really talk this way? Would it take that much effort to write dialogue without the F-word? (P.S. Emily McDowell overuses this word too.) There is, of course, one exception to this pet peeve:
I laughed when I saw the pet peeve (of Emily’s) that was “excessive movie quoting”. Certainly my family has been guilty of that on occasion (okay, a lot)–but we keep it within the family (I think). However, I think this has been going on since Shakespeare’s time. “Get thee to a nunnery!” “What news on the Rialto?” It is just human nature to quote and to feel hip and in on the private joke doing so.
I realize these pet peeves make me sound old, old, old, and I guess I am. Daughter #1 calls me “Oldie Hawn” (btw, overuse of Simpson-quoting is not a pet peeve in my world.) Oh, well. C’est la vie.
Thank goodness it is less than two weeks until Thanksgiving when we can indulge in mega-movie-quoting while watching the above-mentioned movie. Until then, I am thinking of watching another favorite-to-quote-from movie tonight:
“So what else is on your mind besides hundred-proof women, ninety-proof whiskey, and fourteen-carat gold?”
How about you?
