dual personalities

August 25, 2014

Upward and onward

by chuckofish

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I went to a funeral this weekend. It was at the church where I grew up and it was filled with a familiar crowd of people. The man who died was the father of four, all classmates of mine, the OM and my dual personality. There were 14 grandchildren and one great-grandchild–a fine, handsome family–good people.

It was the Rite I version of the Episcopal service without communion and included three hymns, one being “Once to Every Man and Nation” which I had not sung in a long time.

Once to every man and nation, comes the moment to decide,
In the strife of truth with falsehood, for the good or evil side;
Some great cause, some great decision, offering each the bloom or blight,
And the choice goes by forever, ’twixt that darkness and that light.

Then to side with truth is noble, when we share her wretched crust,
Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and ’tis prosperous to be just;
Then it is the brave man chooses while the coward stands aside,
Till the multitude make virtue of the faith they had denied.

By the light of burning martyrs, Christ, Thy bleeding feet we track,
Toiling up new Calv’ries ever with the cross that turns not back;
New occasions teach new duties, time makes ancient good uncouth,
They must upward still and onward, who would keep abreast of truth.

Though the cause of evil prosper, yet the truth alone is strong;
Though her portion be the scaffold, and upon the throne be wrong;
Yet that scaffold sways the future, and behind the dim unknown,
Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above His own.

Old James Russell Lowell–I gotta love you.

But I bet the clergy were cringing. This hymn is not even in our hymnal any more. It was printed in the leaflet. As I recall we used to sing it occasionally at my school–it was in that hymnal. Well, time makes ancient good uncouth…

Back at church on Sunday I was heartened to hear our rector give a sermon on the Gospel, which was Matthew 16:13-20, where Jesus asks Peter “Who do you say that I am?” For once, Peter gets it right: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” The rector talked about how many professing Christians are really atheists who do not live their beliefs or actually walk the walk. But the bottom line, which he did not address, is that many Christians, including many members of the clergy, don’t seem to believe in anything anymore. You know, it’s all just a nice story. Jesus was just a social reformer trying to create a just society. They love “the symbolism of the Resurrection.” And as one fatuous misguided intern wrote in our diocesan newspaper, our “religion is just about being in one big love affair with God and Creation.” Ugh.

Well, it was good to be back in the pew after a few weeks off and it was fun to see the families and little kids back at church. We had ice cream to celebrate.

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And our organist/choirmaster took the ALS challenge and was doused with ice water after church. Oh boy.

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Before

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After

True summer weather (finally) descended on us last week with temperatures pushing 100 and the heat index out of sight. But summer is coming to an end…Labor Day is a week from today! Good grief, Charlie Brown. Our (relatively) lazy days are getting busier and busier.

Can autumn be far behind?

Tout va bien.

 

4 Comments
August 23, 2014

A “Just So” Story for Saturday

by chuckofish

Or “How I got to love sad music”. When I was just a wee sprog — ages and ages ago —  we owned a very low-tech record player. My mother preferred classical music with a smattering of Kingston Trio, Bobby Darin,  Burl Ives, and show tunes thrown in. And, of course, my father liked his bagpipe music and Ewan MacColl sea chanties. All of it influenced my own taste (yes, even the Ewan MacColl), but most of all, I like a sad tune. Here’s how it all started.

A typical evening, but one that has stayed with me for some reason, saw my mother and brother sitting in the living room listening to and discussing Beethoven’s 7th. My sister and I — she about 7 and I, 5 — were already in our nightgowns ready for bed. We were bored, so we started to dance to the music — Mother may even have suggested it. We leapt around the room, did pirouettes atop the heavy canister vacuum, and generally disrupted the intellectual discourse by insisting that our mother watch us. Our brother was (understandably) annoyed, but Mother approved, because, as she then noted, the  super sad Allegretto of the 7th is known as “the apotheosis of the dance”.

I obviously didn’t know what that meant, but I remember feeling happy and somehow vindicated. So perhaps my early love of melancholy music can be attributed to Beethoven (thank you, Ludwig!). There was, of course, a lot of sad music around– the kind that makes your throat hurt unbearably. When I was a little kid, my two favorite sad songs were “Puff the Magic Dragon”

and “Feed the Birds” from Mary Poppins.

Picture little six-year-old Sarah trying not to cry over those. I still love the sad music, but I’ll leave my current picks for another post. My question for you, dear reader, is: when you were little, what was your favorite sad song ?

3 Comments
August 22, 2014

“You know what’s wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? “*

by chuckofish

Today is Audrey Hepburn day on TCM. Here is the schedule. I can’t say they are showing my absolute favorites, but there are actually a few I haven’t seen. So the DVR will be doing its job today.

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I must say I have loved old Audrey for a long, long time–long before she was a pop culture “icon” and her face was all over everything. Our mother was a fan and loved Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961). It really surprised me to find out that it was not a big hit when it came out in 1961 and it wasn’t nominated for many Oscars. It has “Best Picture” written all over it, if you ask me. It is definitely one of my Top Five of all time movies.

Audrey is the real deal: beautiful, smart, brunette. And she can act.

Anyway, an Audrey Hepburn movie fest seems like a terrific idea for this Friday. Which movie(s) will you pick?

John Huston's "The Unforgiven" (1960)

John Huston’s “The Unforgiven” (1960) with Burt Lancaster

William Wyler's "Roman Holiday" (1951) with Gregory Peck

William Wyler’s “Roman Holiday” (1953) with Gregory Peck

"Wait Until Dark" (1967)

“Wait Until Dark” (1967)

Billy Wilder's "Sabrina" (1954) with Bogart and Holden

Billy Wilder’s “Sabrina” (1954) with Bogart and Holden

Stanley Donen's "Charade" (1963) with Cary Grant

Stanley Donen’s “Charade” (1963) with Cary Grant

So many good/great ones to choose from!

*Paul Varjak

5 Comments
August 21, 2014

“My soul has grown deep like the rivers”*

by chuckofish

St. Louis in 1846

St. Louis in 1846

“The face of the water, in time, became a wonderful book–a book that was a dead language to the uneducated passenger, but which told its mind to me without reserve, delivering its most cherished secrets as clearly as if it uttered them with a voice. And it was not a book to be read once and thrown aside, for it had a new story to tell every day.”

– Mark Twain, Life on the Mississippi

I have lived in the city on the River nearly my whole life and I always know where I am in relation to the river. I always know or feel where it is–running north and south and I am “situated” that way. I cannot imagine not living by a river or some body of water. I wonder if other people feel this way?

*Langston Hughes

 

5 Comments
August 20, 2014

Rockin’ the boat

by chuckofish

AP photo

AP photo

I am having a hard time keeping positive since my flyover hometown has been the focus of the national news for the past ten days. Someone stopped by my office at work yesterday and said when he was in Helsinki last week, he was watching a Russian news station and heard all about our troubles there.

Well, it is all very sad and frustrating. There are way too many people–most who have never been and never will step foot in Ferguson (which is not a small town in Missouri, but a lower middle class, racially-mixed suburb)–weighing in and commenting on what is happening. The OM’s grandparents lived there for years. I’m sure the people who live in the 63135 just want to get back to work and their children just want to start school. Can we please just let them.

Our hometown friend Nelly went to Ferguson and tried to help.

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“We’ve got to understand that we have options and stop choosing the reaction option cause at the end of the day we gonna pay – our brothers are gonna be the ones in jail,” he said. But he got nowhere.

Well, it is hard to keep our chin up with all this going on.

The highlight of my day yesterday was a visit from WWII Guy who was visiting from Hot-lanta. We’re going to have lunch next week, but first he has to fly a B-25 Mitchell (which belongs to the. Missouri Wing of the Commemorative Air Force) up to Duluth.

1507905_710634228970365_1375255387_nYes, there are a few cool guys left in the world.

So I’ll hang in there if you do.

 

4 Comments
August 18, 2014

“In Naomi’s Eyes we were about as Jewish as Episcopalians.”*

by chuckofish

"Barrow Farm" by William Stott of Oldham (1857--1900)

“Barrow Farm” by William Stott of Oldham (1857–1900)

“The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last for ever. Even on the most beautiful days in the whole year – the days when summer is changing into autumn – the crickets spread the rumour of sadness and change.”

–E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web

As I have mentioned before, summer in our flyover state is hot and muggy and generally pretty terrible. But this summer has been just lovely and I am loathe to see it end. Sigh.

End it shall…but not yet.

This weekend, which followed a long, stressful, sad week, I decided to throw in the towel and leave the rest of my bathroom to the professional who is coming to paint this week. If there’s one thing I know, it’s my limits. I cleaned up the mess I made.

I watched Out of Africa (1985) which is a pretty wonderful movie and one of the few which deserved its Best Picture Oscar.

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I hadn’t seen it for many years and I think it has certainly held up. Although some may think it over-rated and slow, I think its pace is perfect. It has a smart script and it is beautifully directed and the cinematography is sublime. Good grief, Meryl Streep is perfect. It is very romantic. And who doesn’t love Isak Dinesen? Granted there are no car chases or explosions, but there is a great sequence in a bi-plane.

I re-read The Wonder Spot by Melissa Bank, which is the follow-up to her best-selling The Girl’s Guide to Hunting and Fishing. Bank’s writing, you recall, was one of the first to be labeled “Chick Lit”–so unfortunate. When the Girl’s Guide was published to such acclaim in 1999, I spurned it because it sounded stupid and it was so popular–it couldn’t be good, right?  Then ten years later when I was having a very bad week, I saw it at a rummage sale and thought, “What the heck? I’ll give it a whirl.” (This was one of those shoulder taps from my guardian angel that I have learned to listen to.) When I started reading it, I couldn’t put it down. It was so good–genuinely funny without being vulgar, heart-felt and remarkably kind.

The Wonder Spot was not the giant best-seller of its predecessor, but I like it, and I enjoyed re-reading it. I laughed out loud on numerous occasions. It is both funny and sad–a combination of which I approve.

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“The women are young, young, young, liquidy and sweet-looking; they are batter, and I am the sponge cake they don’t know they’ll become. I stand here, a lone loaf, stuck to the pan. ” (“The Wonder Spot”)

Have a good week!

* “2oth Century Typing”, Melissa Bank

 

3 Comments
August 16, 2014

“I do the rolling, you do the detail”*

by chuckofish

Yes, we’ve been painting. But inn our case, we do it the other way around — I do the detail  and he paints.  While the DH was away in London Tim and I painted the living room, a fairly monumental task, if I do say so. We did one half at a time. Here’s the first stage of the first half — I’ve taped the edges and we’re ready to go.

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I found the physical labor curiously satisfying: on the knees; up and down the step-ladder; stretching, concentrating, and hearing new music on Spotify… and, yes, I was very tired at the end of the day. Here’s what it looked like

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halfway through.

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The wall color is a putty/light gray-green (‘misty rain’) and the woodwork is some shade of off-white that I can’t recall. The light makes it hard to capture correctly, but I think it turned out really well.

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I threw my drapes away and ordered more, but they were the wrong color so I am drape-less and sun-drenched until I can find the right thing.

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In a weird way, 10 days of painting, moving furniture, reading, and eating junk food (the dining room being out of commission) was as refreshing as a vacation. And at the end of it, I felt as if I had really accomplished something. My dual personality taught me that there’s nothing like a household project to lift the spirits. She’s right. So go on, pick up your paint brush or go through that closet that’s full of stuff you don’t need. You’ll feel great!

*The Tragically Hip

2 Comments
August 15, 2014

“Was you ever been bit by a dead bee?”*

by chuckofish

"The Shootist" (1976)

Bacall and the Duke in “The Shootist” (1976)

Well, now Lauren Bacall has died. She was 89 and lived in the Dakota on Central Park West. She liked Bissinger’s chocolate from St. Louis, speaking her mind and being Mrs. Humphrey Bogart. She made some good movies with him, notably To Have and Have Not (1944), The Big Sleep (1946) and Key Largo (1948).

She also made two good movies with John Wayne: Blood Alley (1955) and The Shootist (1976). She liked the Duke–they had good chemistry together she said.

I’m going to watch The Shootist tonight, because I’m in the mood for a sad western with music by Elmer Bernstein, but any of the aforementioned films would be appropriate.

Rest in peace, Betty Bacall. Into paradise may the angels lead thee; and at thy coming may the martyrs receive thee, and bring thee into the holy city Jerusalem.
–BCP, Burial of the Dead, Rite I

*Eddie (and Slim) in To Have and Have Not

7 Comments
August 14, 2014

Vain expectations

by chuckofish

"Bowl of Goldfish" by Childe Hassam

“Bowl of Goldfish” by Childe Hassam

‘One has to spend so many years in learning how to be happy. I am just beginning to make some progress in the science, and I hope to disprove Young’s theory that “as soon as we have found the key of life it opens the gates of death.” Every year strips us of at least one vain expectation, and teaches us to reckon some solid good in its stead. I never will believe that our youngest days are our happiest. What a miserable augury for the progress of the race and the destination of the individual if the more matured and enlightened state is the less happy one!’

– George Eliot

4 Comments
August 13, 2014

“Fame you’ll be famous, as famous as can be, with everyone watching you win on TV, Except when they don’t because sometimes they won’t…”*

by chuckofish

Read the newspaper. What does it say? All bad. It’s all bad. People have forgotten what life is all about. They’ve forgotten what it is to be alive. They need to be reminded. They need to be reminded of what they have and what they can lose. What I feel is the joy of life, the gift of life, the freedom of life, the wonderment of life!

Leonard Lowe, Awakenings (1990)

Well, I am very sad about the suicide of Robin Williams earlier in the week. He seems to have succumbed to despair.

Robin and I go a long way back–all the way to “Mork and Mindy” which I watched when I was a graduate student in 1979. I thought he was hilarious.

I have written before about the kinship I always felt with him, of how he was my brother’s doppelganger, born weeks apart in 1951. Years would go by when I wouldn’t see my own brother, but I would see Robin. And then he played “Mrs. Doubtfire” and reminded me of my mother! It was that inner Scotsman, I guess, full of melancholy and sweetness. Indeed, he was like kin and so his death seems not so much like the death of a movie star, but like a brother. Perhaps you think that is silly, but it is how I feel. It is possible to feel very close to writers, poets, and yes, even movie stars.

I watched Awakenings last night–this movie is pure gold–and it is all about appreciating Life and reminding oneself often of the great gift that it is. So it is doubly heart-breaking to know that Robin Williams had lost sight of this.

 

“Does anything in nature despair except man? An animal with a foot caught in a trap does not seem to despair. It is too busy trying to survive. It is all closed in, to a kind of still, intense waiting. Is this a key? Keep busy with survival. Imitate the trees. Learn to lose in order to recover, and remember that nothing stays the same for long, not even pain, psychic pain. Sit it out. Let it all pass. Let it go.”

–May Sarton, Journal of Solitude

May Sarton is right. Hang in there.

*Dr. Seuss

4 Comments