dual personalities

“What are we standing around for? Put on some Sousa already. I want to get wild.”

by chuckofish

Last week, I didn’t blog because I was at the Unclaimed Property Auction in Kansas City. Unclaimed Property is one of the many things I’ve learned about as a state employee. Sadly, I have yet to discover $30,000 of long lost money (just $58 in the state of New York). But I digress.

The auction is an annual event (although this was the first since 2019) where the Treasurer’s Office auctions off items found in abandoned safe deposit boxes that have been turned over to the office. The earnings from the sale are kept in perpetuity for the owner.

I spent three full days with the Unclaimed Property staff, helping out where I could and creating some pretty great social content. It was a lot of work and long days–but also a fascinating event. I already knew about the random stuff you can find in a safe deposit box. I mean, you expect family heirlooms, documents, valuables like jewelry and coins. But you also find stuff that makes you scratch your head. A full clown costume–from the wig to the shoes. A DVD copy of The Notebook. A NASCAR hat signed by Richard Petty. And then there’s this:

“”You’re the department?”

She saluted. “Unclaimed property manager. I’m my own branch of the Wyoming State Treasury Department.”

“I have to ask. What kind of stuff do you find?”

She looked back out the windshield. “All kinds of things. We found an 1863 ambassadorial appointment signed by Abraham Lincoln, and just last week I found an old collection of Nazi campaign ribbons from World War II. Pocket watches, stocks, bonds…There was this one in Gillette that had a complete change of clothes, a ski mask, and a pistol.” I turned and looked at her. “Then there are the polaroids. We’ve got a stack of nude snapshots that is over a foot tall.””

Death Without Company, Craig Johnson

That’s right. Unclaimed Property even plays a (minor) role in one of the Longmire books. I sent a longer version of that passage to our Unclaimed Property Director and his response was “Hilarious. We could have wrote that.” He isn’t wrong. In fact, we have also found a ski mask, a change of clothes, and a handgun. A couple of months ago, we found a civil war-era journal kept by a soldier that contained a passage about President Lincoln reviewing the troops.

The auction draws serious collectors from around the country–yes, really–who mostly come for the coins and jewelry. Some of it will be melted down, other bits added to collections. I find it all interesting and sad at the same time–the heirloom jewelry that is kind of hideous, the fake Rolex watches they thought were real, the real Rolex they never wore because it was in a safe deposit box. Each item was important enough to someone that they wanted to keep in a bank and then it still ended up totally lost.

It’s a good reminder to always document if you have a safe deposit box so that it doesn’t get lost. And, of course, check ShowMeMoney.com (or unclaimed.org if you’re out of state) to see if you have any Unclaimed Property!

*Brooklyn 99, of course

Thou from the prairies*

by chuckofish

Last Saturday was the anniversary of the death of President Ulysses S. Grant in 1885. To me, he was a great man and one of the qualities that made him great, was his humility. His humble nature shines through in his Memoirs.

There are many men who would have done better than I did under the circumstances in which I found myself. If I had never held command, if I had fallen, there were 10,000 behind who would have followed the contest to the end and never surrendered the Union.

Debatable. Think of General McClellan, his predecessor as general-in-chief of all the Union armies. He thought he “could do it all” but he could not. And he blamed everyone else for his failure.

President Lincoln put his trust in Grant and was well served. And Grant was humble in victory.

General Lee was dressed in a full uniform which was entirely new, and was wearing a sword of considerable value, very likely the sword which had been presented by the State of Virginia; at all events, it was an entirely different sword from the one that would ordinarily be worn in the field. In my rough traveling suit, the uniform of a private with the straps of a lieutenant-general, I must have contrasted very strangely with a man so handsomely dressed, six feet high and of faultless form. But this was not a matter that I thought of until afterwards.

–Memoirs

I love that he wore “a soldier’s blouse for a coat, with the shoulder straps of my rank to indicate to the army who I was.”

Walt Whitman revered Grant and wrote a poem about the former president when he returned from his world tour.

What best I see in thee,
is not that where thou mov’st down history’s great highways,
Ever undimm’d by time shoots warlike victory’s dazzle,
Or that thou sat’st where Washington say, ruling the land in peace,
Or thou the man whom feudal Europe feted, venerable Asia swarm’d upon,
Who walk’d with kings with even pace the round world’s promenade;
But that in foreign lands, in all thy walks with kings
Those prairie sovereigns of the West, Kansas, Missouri, Illinois,
Ohio’s, Indiana’s millions, comrades, farmers, soldiers, all to the front,
Invisibly with thee walking with kings with even pace the round world’s promenade,
Were all so justified.

Here’s an article about Whitman and Grant if you’re interested.

A few weeks ago the wee laddie came up to me holding this little framed picture he had found in the living room:

“Who’s this, Mamu?” he asked.

“That’s Cousin Ulysses,” I said. “Some day I’ll tell you all about him.”

*Walt Whitman

This and that, here and there

by chuckofish

Every so often I just like to post this old Booth cartoon because it sums up my mood so well.

In other news, we continue to languish in our tropical flyover state where we have been tolerating/not tolerating super hot temperatures. On top of which, my allergies were terrible this weekend–the sneezing and the blowing–zut alors!

I did manage to go to one estate sale and I checked out my local antique mall where I found something I could not resist.

It’s a large lead soldier–a Cameron Highlander–in a nice case. It is very well painted.

You will say that I already have plenty of lead soldiers around my house, but I couldn’t help myself. He was on sale! It was a rescue job and I am not apologizing.

You may recall that our father was quite a hobbyist and one of his longterm hobbies was painting lead soldiers and collecting Britains. I do indeed have them all over my house.

So what’s one more soldier?

The OM and I went to church on Sunday where we heard a good sermon on Matthew 21: 33-46. We also sang some great old hymns lustily which is always a joy. The boy and his family were in KC this weekend so we ate brunch at our backup diner and then drove down to my favorite auction house to check out the preview of next weekend’s auction. I am keeping my eye on a few things and who knows, if there is no competition, I may win something.

And they say the intense heat will be vacating the area and we will be back to near normal temperatures and maybe some rain. That would be nice.

Did you watch Red River (1948) on Saturday? We did and it was great.

John Wayne is iconic and Montgomery Clift holds his own. And, boy, that is saying a lot.

And here’s a great rendition of a favorite hymn by Missouri’s own, the Petersens, to start your week off…

Where’s the beef?

by chuckofish

Earlier this week I made meatloaf for dinner — or at least tried to. I got it ready ahead of time and put it in the fridge, and then became deeply engrossed in a writing project. At the appropriate time, I took a break to put the oven on. Eventually, the DH arrived home from the office and I went to prepare potatoes and veg. When I opened the oven door to check the meatloaf, I was surprised to discover… nothing. How could this be? Where was the meatloaf? I found it in the fridge, where I had left it. Oops. My husband, who remained unperturbed, calmly suggested that we have bacon and eggs and save the meatloaf for the next day. So, we did. It all worked out, and hey, at least I didn’t do this:

In other beef related news, I saw a good movie on Netflix called Operation Mincemeat. I’m not saying it stands among the greats but compared to 99% of other new movies it was wonderful. Anyway, I thought it struck all the right chords, and it’s a true story!

It’s 1943 and the Allies are getting ready to invade Sicily. Rear Admiral John Godfrey and Lieutenant Commander Ian Fleming (yes, the author who created James Bond) write a memo suggesting a way to hoodwink the Germans into believing that the attack will come in Greece rather than Sicily. Committee twenty (as in XX or double cross) is tasked with carrying out the deception, which involves finding an appropriate corpse, creating a backstory for it, putting Top Secret material in a briefcase attached to its wrist and then dumping it in the sea off Spain in such a way that the Nazis are certain to find it. Political problems, love triangles and plenty of nail-biting ensue. The movie has a good script, excellent cast (Colin Firth, Jason Isaacs, Penelope Wilton and Matthew MacFadyen), no violence to speak of and no sex. It was refreshingly normal. Back in 2020, my DP posted about an earlier version of the story that I have not seen, the 1956 film The Man Who Never Was starring Clifton Webb. If you are interested in Operation Mincemeat, you can watch this documentary to find out more.

It’s our anniversary today and also happens to be my turn to cook dinner. If you can recommend easy but delicious recipes that don’t involve long periods of inactivity during which I can get distracted and then forget to cook the rest, I’d be delighted if you’d put them in the comments.

Have a great weekend and stay cool!

Don’t fence me in

by chuckofish

Since Saturday is the National Day of the Cowboy, I will remind you to watch a movie with a cowboy prominently featured. That is a no-brainer. I have made lists before and suggestions ad nauseum, so I will desist from doing so today. Traditionally I watch Red River (1948) which, as cowboy movies go, is A+.

So instead of movies today, I’ll suggest listening to great cowboy songs. Here are a few classics.

Here’s one I’ve loved since I was a little girl. It’s so sad!

Another one I’ve known since childhood–and particularly this version by Burl Ives–is “The Cowboy’s Lament/Streets of Laredo”. It can be heard in myriad movies, most memorably for me in 3 Godfathers (1948) and Bang the Drum Slowly (1973).

Here’s yet another sad one–“Oh Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie”–in a straightforward version by Christian Larsson.

Everyone knows Gene Autry’s “Back in the Saddle Again”…

And here’s our friend David Byrne doing his own version of Cole Porter’s “Don’t Fence Me In.” Classic.

I always loved “Buffalo Gals” when I was kid and here’s Bruce Springsteen’s version.

What’s your favorite cowboy song?

P.S. Who said, “I was not born to be forced. I will breath after my own fashion. Let us see who is the strongest.”

No, it wasn’t John Wayne. It was Henry David Thoreau in Civil Disobedience.

(The painting at the top of this post is by Harold von Schmidt for The Saturday Evening Post)

“Out of the tree of life I just picked me a plum”*

by chuckofish

July is whizzing by, as is the summer! But I don’t want to forget to note that in our family we have several anniversaries to toast during this month.

There was daughter #2 and DN on July 1…

…and coming up, the boy and daughter #3 celebrating their 10th (!) on the 28th…

My DP and her DH got hitched in July as well…back in 1989…

(It was another HOT summer in England that year!)

Sunrise, sunset…well, we all pray the best is yet to come, right? Love, love, love to you all!

*Cy Coleman and Carolyn Leigh, “The Best is Yet to Come”

 “All the watches in your cabinet are safe”*

by chuckofish

It grew harder and harder. Even within these four walls there was too much misery, too much seemingly pointless suffering. Every day something else failed to make sense, something else grew too heavy. Will You carry this too, Lord Jesus? But as the rest of the world grew stranger, one thing became increasingly clear. And that was the reason the two of us were here. Why others should suffer we were not shown. As for us, from morning until lights-out, whenever we were not in ranks for roll call, our Bible was the center of an ever-widening circle of help and hope. Like waifs clustered around a blazing fire, we gathered about it, holding out our hearts to its warmth and light. The blacker the night around us grew, the brighter and truer and more beautiful burned the word of God. “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? . . . Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.

I am reading several books, but at the moment I am concentrating on re-reading The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom. I read it many years ago, but I kept running across references to it and thought it was time to read it again.

You will recall that Corrie Ten Boom was a watchmaker in Haarlem, the Netherlands, who lived with her family above their father’s shop. A devout Calvinist Christian, she, along her family, never thought twice about sheltering and aiding Jews in need after the German occupation of the Netherlands in 1940. Ten Boom’s involvement in the Dutch resistance grew beyond gathering stolen ration cards and harboring Jews in her home. She soon became part of the Dutch underground resistance network and oversaw a network of smuggling Jews to safe places. All in all, it is estimated that around 800 Jews were saved by Ten Boom’s efforts. As a result of her and her family’s efforts, they were arrested by the Nazis and sent to a series of concentration camps. Casper Ten Boom and Betsie Ten Boom never returned. The story is a harrowing one, but a truly inspiring one.

I must note that what the Ten Booms did, they did not do for any political reason. They acted by faith alone. As Christians they could not do otherwise.

I used to think that such a thing as the Holocaust could never happen in America, but I don’t think that anymore.

*Code for “all the people hiding in your secret room are safe.”

“He who regards the clouds will not reap”*

by chuckofish

I had a busy week. We even went out on a weeknight.

The OM got to use his office’s (air-conditioned) suite at the ballpark so he invited a group of friends and clients to watch the game. I had not been to a Cardinals game in many years, not since my flyover university used to sponsor nights at the ballpark. Also I lost interest in the redbirds when they fired Mike Matheny in 2018 (sigh). Anyway, it was fun to watch a game right on the third base line.

The little bud made a new best friend, who taught him how to yell, “You’re a bum!” to the manager. (Our manager is a bum, so it’s okay.) We had a 6-0 lead through seven innings and then lost the game because we have no relievers. C’est la vie.

After my busy week, all I wanted to do was chillax and watch the 150th Open at St. Andrew’s. I did get to see a little, but since I went to church on Sunday I missed the end. (Congrats to Cameron Smith who to me always has a disconcerting Nathan Bedford Forest vibe.)

We celebrated the OM’s birthday with a little party after church.

(The pictures of our birthday parties always look the same, don’t they?) Mr and Mrs Crypt Keeper–c’est la vie.

I’m impressed the OM blew out all the candles with one breath. (So was he.)

The French Silk pie was from Tippins and a big success. I made a tater tot casserole which was also a hit.

Here’s hoping this week will not be so busy and maybe it will cool off a little. It has been a hot summer, but that is par for the course and I am not complaining (as long as the electric grid holds out.)

And here’s a bonus picture of precious Katiebelle doing her chores:

*Ecclesiastes 11:4

A crazy planet full of crazy people

by chuckofish

Yesterday I met a friend for coffee. We had a lovely time, although we observed more than once that everyone we know, whatever their politics, feels bad about the state of the world and worried about the future and their place in it. There’s not much we can do about the world — it will go as it goes — but we can cheer ourselves up while we attempt to navigate through it. In an effort to do so, let’s look at a few of Gary Larsen’s Far Side cartoons.

You remember The Far Side, don’t you? Larsen’s single-panel cartoons appeared in newspapers, calenders, books and other paraphernalia from 1979-1995, at which point he retired. I have fond memories of my Far Side mug. The caption reads “Chad Billingsly experiencing a period of disinclination” – a sentiment that speaks to me on many levels.

This one, being simply perfect, requires no additional comment.

This classic cartoon has been on the DH’s office door for nigh on thirty years now.

And this one raises many deep, existential questions.

The final cartoon reminds us that as a species we are amazingly clueless, so when everything goes wrong we have only ourselves to blame.

As the DH is fond of saying, humans are at the top of the food chain because we can outwit sheep and lobsters.

Have a wonderful weekend and don’t let the turkeys (or sheep and lobsters) get you down!

Loomings

by chuckofish

We seem to roll our eyes a lot these days. At the grocery store, at the gas pump, and so on. We say, “Is there no balm in Gilead?” and we aren’t kidding.

When in doubt, we re-read the first paragraph of Moby Dick…

Haven’t we all felt like methodically knocking people’s hats off in the street? Well, it may be high time to get to sea, but that is out of the question for me. So I watched John Huston’s 1956 version of Moby Dick. It is a wonderful and quite faithful rendering of the great novel and I recommend it.

Starbuck to Stubb and Flask: “It is an evil voyage, I tell thee. If Ahab has his way, neither thee nor me, nor any member of this ship’s company will ever see home again.”

Stubb: “Aw, come on, Mr. Starbuck, you’re just plain gloomy. Moby Dick may be big, but he ain’t THAT big.”

Starbuck: “I do not fear Moby Dick – I fear the wrath of God.”

Even better, re-read the book!

Maybe, as we approach Herman Melville’s birthday on August 1, we should have another Moby Dick reading party…

or at least make some punch…

…food for thought.

P.S. Anne is back after a four week break. Thanks be to God.

And daughter #1 sent me a link to this fabric and it made my day. Clearly there is a market for this! How great is that?