family | dual personalities

July 21, 2014

We are climbing Jacob’s Ladder

by chuckofish

Lovebirds circa 1988

Since my dual personality already posted about her silver anniversary and the wonderful wedding in England that started it all, I will refrain from doing so. My pictures from the big event are pretty much the same.

I will limit myself to this one of daughter #1 (almost 5) and the boy (2 1/2).

The boy, as previously noted, was coming down with chicken pox, but he was enough on the ball to be quite taken with the wedding. It was in the fall, after all, that he came home one day from pre-school and announced that he “had decided.” “Decided what?” I gamely asked. “I’ve decided to marry Lauren B.”

And, reader, he did. Just about twenty-three years later, he did–and in July as well!

I don’t think he would have been contemplating wedlock if he had not attended this great wedding in England. You just never know what your younguns are thinking.

What a bud.

Anyway, how was your weekend? I estate-saled, ran errands, tore wallpaper off the walls of an upstairs bathroom (you gotta have a project), attended church, and planted a rose bush.

As I noted on Friday, I planned to watch Road to Perdition, but I could not find my copy! Can you believe it? Curses again. Instead I watched The Naked Jungle (1954) with Charlton Heston, Eleanor Parker and William Conrad with a really bad French (?) accent.

You remember–it’s the one about the plantation in South America that is in the path of a 2-mile-wide, 20-mile-long column of army ants! It was clearly shot on a soundstage, but it is better than it sounds. Charlton is always worth watching.

On Saturday night I watched The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014).

I am not a fan of Wes Anderson–he is highly over-rated, if you ask me–so my expectations were low. I enjoyed it, however, mostly because I am a minor fan of Ralph Fiennes. He is wonderful (who knew he could be funny?) and elevates the material. There are the usual cameo appearances by Wes’s hipster friends (Bill Murray, Owen Wilson, Ed Norton, Bob Balaban, etc.) and inappropriate (and an inordinate) use of the F-word, but it is worth watching for Ralph and his sidekick played by the very funny teenager Tony Revolori.

I was a reader once again at church (substituting for vacationing lay readers) and I read the story of Jacob’s dream of the angels ascending and descending the ladder (Genesis 28:10-19a). I also read Romans 8:12-25, which includes “you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear” and also “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us.” Good stuff.

Here is a terrific rendition of the old negro spiritual “We are climbing Jacob’s ladder” sung by a Dutch men’s chorus. (I love that they pronounce Jacob as “Yacob.”) We don’t hear this one much anymore–probably because of the refrain: “Soldiers of the cross.” Listen to the whole thing–it’ll rev your engines to start the week off right!

If you love Him, why not serve Him?

(Here are all the words.)

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July 17, 2014

Happy birthday to some real yankee doodle dandies

by chuckofish

Today is the OM’s birthday so let’s all sing a rousing chorus of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow”!

Gee, this is real keen!

And here’s a special rendition of “Shine On August Moon” just for you:

It should be noted that July 17 is also the birthday of the great James Cagney (July 17, 1899 – March 30, 1986). I must say I was not a fan of his as a child/young adult. He is an acquired taste, but I have grown to appreciate him over the years. For years he was type-cast as a gangster, but he won an Oscar for playing a song-and-dance man in Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942). He is sensational in White Heat (1949) as the devoted son and psychopathic killer. It was his portrayal of Lon Chaney in Man of a Thousand Faces (1957) that made me an admirer.

I remember watching this melodramatic movie with the boy when he was a small child. He was quite struck by the story and I think he actually wept during the scene when Lon’s young son Creighton is taken away from him. It prompted me to take a deeper look at Cagney who is indeed impressive in the film.

He was also quite a hoofer and his distinctive dance style was admired by the likes of Barishnikov, who was actually a pall bearer at his funeral. Check it out here–he’s like a marionette!

By the way, Ronald Reagan (U.S. President at the time) gave the eulogy at his funeral. Now that’s impressive.

So hats off to the OM and to James Cagney–let’s toast them both tonight!

Bonus picture for a Thursday Throwback: Our brother and one dual personality salute the flag in a festive mood in 1980. (My apologies for the ink stain on our poor brother’s face.)

8 Comments

July 16, 2014

What are you reading?

by chuckofish

Once again I found myself casting about for something to read over the weekend. I picked Susan Cheever’s memoir of her father John Cheever (May 27, 1912 – June 18, 1982) from the bookshelf. I received it as a Christmas present in 1984.

So I have been reading Home Before Dark again and enjoying it very much. Old John Cheever, the “influential twentieth century fiction writer affectionately known as ‘the Chekhov of the suburbs,'” is such a familiar type of dude to me–the waspy, literate Yankee gentleman who is also a terrible alcoholic.

I mean look at him in his shetland sweater. He was even a practicing Episcopalian who said grace before every meal! So familiar. Like my own pater, he made to age 70, but just barely.

It’s true that this “brilliant chronicler of American suburbia” led a tortured double life filled with sexual guilt, self-loathing and immense quantities of booze. Unfortunately his bad behavior went way beyond drinking too much. But I really think Susan Cheever could have stopped after writing her first memoir. Did she need to write another? Cheever’s son Ben has edited a collection of his letters. And they sold his journals in an auction. He has been turned inside out. Does anyone deserve this?

Anyway, I bought a used copy of The Stories of John Cheever and I will re-acquaint myself with his writing, which is what we should remember old Cheever for, right? I will resist reading Blake Baily’s 700-page Cheever: A Life which chronicles every sordid detail and secret of his life. Enough already.

An aged man is but a paltry thing, a tattered coat upon a stick, unless he sees the bright plumage of the bird called courage–Cardinalis virginius, in this case–and oh how his heart leapt.

–John Cheever, Oh What a Paradise it Seems

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July 11, 2014

“Today’s temperature’s gonna rise up over 100 degrees, so there’s a Jheri curl alert! That’s right, Jheri curl alert.”*

by chuckofish

It is worth living long enough to outlast whatever sense of grievance you may acquire. Another reason why you must be careful of your health.

(Marilynne Robinson, Gilead)

Summer has never been my favorite season. In our flyover state it is HOT and growing up we did not have air conditioning. Yes, you read that correctly.

I was one of those ~~weird~~ kids who actually liked school. And as we did not belong to a country club and I was not sent away to camp, I was bored a lot during the summer. I did not have a friend in the neighborhood. So I read a lot. I watched way too much TV. I went to the grocery store with my mother. A big day was when we went to the movies. Sometimes friends of my parents would give us their box seat tickets to the baseball game. You get the picture. It was a long three months.

Anyway, I have come to appreciate the summer and its slower pace. It helps that we live in an air-conditioned house now. That makes a big difference.

I enjoy all the goings on in my yard. From the day lilies

to the pumpkins

to the critters.

I did not take this photo of a mini-bear, but they are everywhere. There’s a whole chipmunk village underneath our yard.

I appreciate the longer days. For instance yesterday, the boy came by my office at the end of the day and together we trekked down to the new auction house which has replaced the one that was so conveniently located across the street from my office for many years. (Much to my chagrin, some shady dealings forced this 150-plus-year old business to close.) The new auction house has set up in an old church designed by one of our city’s most famous architects and we went down to check out the preview of the inaugural auction which will be this Saturday.

It was great to do that and get home before dark! Summer has its upside.

I tried to think of a good summer movie for my Friday movie pick, but nothing really came to mind. Jaws (1975)? The Parent Trap (1964)? Dirty Dancing (1987)? American Graffiti (1973)? Gotta say, I’m just not in the mood.

Any ideas?

* Do The Right Thing (1989)

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July 10, 2014

Throwback Thursday

by chuckofish

Here’s a summery-at-the-beach photo of three little ladies circa 1917–cousins, all named Catherine after their grandmother Catherine Rand Carnahan, after whom I am also named.

The oldest (top) is my grandmother Catherine Carnahan. The girl in the middle is her cousin, Catherine Carnahan. The baby is Catherine’s niece, Catherine Bays (daughter of her sister, Anna Carnaghan Bays).

I’m just saying…it’s a nice tradition.

5 Comments

July 8, 2014

“I don’t know what I would do without her.”*

by chuckofish

Grace Goodhue Coolidge (January 3, 1879 – July 8, 1957) is one of my favorite first ladies. She and her husband Calvin lived for many years in Northampton, MA, a town I know well. In fact they met there, when she was on the faculty of the Clark School for the Deaf and he was a lawyer.

The story goes that while watering flowers outside the school one day in 1903, she happened to look up at the open window of Robert N. Weir’s boardinghouse and caught a glimpse of Calvin Coolidge shaving in front of a mirror with nothing on but long underwear and a hat. She burst out laughing at the sight; he heard the noise and turned to look at her. It was their first meeting. After a more formal introduction sometime later, the two were quickly attracted to each other.

Her vivacious personality was the perfect complement to his shy character. They were such opposites. She was a Pi Phi at the University of Vermont and the president of her sorority. Calvin was no Greek at Amherst. He was an outsider, an “ouden”–or “nothing.” At the Christmas break of his freshman year, he did not want to return to school, but because he believed in finishing what he started, he did, and he pulled himself together.

Throughout their marriage, Grace and Calvin were a devoted pair. They may have been very different in some ways, but they also had a lot in common. They were both descended from Puritans, both were from Vermont and both had found their way to Northampton.

Both were animal lovers and the White House was a veritable menagerie sometimes referred to as the “Pennsylvania Avenue zoo.” Dogs, cats, birds, rabbits, even a raccoon–“She was a mischievous, inquisitive party,” wrote Grace of their raccoon Rebecca. “We had to keep watch of her when she was in the house. She enjoyed nothing better than being placed in a bathtub with a little water in it and given a cake of soap with which to play. In this fashion she would amuse herself for an hour or more.”

It is amusing to picture the man who brought dignity back to the White House with a raccoon in the bathtub.

They were indeed a couple, supporting each other. Somehow they went forward after the tragic death of their 16-year old son Calvin Jr. who had played tennis without socks and developed a blister and then sepsis. It nearly ruined them, but Calvin found solace in knowing that Abraham Lincoln had also lost a son while president. He and Grace pressed on.

If you are interested in learning more about the Coolidges, I recommend Coolidge by Amity Shlaes, published last year by Harper Collins. He and his wife were warm and real and unpretentious. They worked hard. I’m afraid we will not see their like again.

So join me in toasting Grace Coolidge tonight on the anniversary of her death in 1958.

*Calvin Coolidge referring to his wife.

7 Comments

July 7, 2014

Yep, our family is as functional as all get-out.*

by chuckofish

As you know the OM and I spent four days over the holiday in Michigan with my dual personality and her spouse at our brother’s lake house in Clay Township on Lake St. Clair. He and his lovely wife wined and dined us, took us on boat rides

and on nature hikes.

They introduced us to the neighbors

and took us shooting

No, that’s not Ernest Hemingway, that’s my bro

and treated us to incredible sunsets from their backyard.

And who knew my brother could cook?

It was lovely.

*Homer Simpson, of course

13 Comments

July 2, 2014

I tramp a perpetual journey

by chuckofish

Today I am actually traveling! The OM and I are flying up to Michigan where we are meeting my big brother and heading to his house on Lake St. Clair. My dual personality and her DH (Dear Husband) are driving from the North Country to meet us. We will celebrate the frater’s birthday (and also our country’s) with much toasting and fireworks. Absent friends and all that.

The siblings circa 1967–pretend traveling at the Transportation Museum

And FYI the Star of the Month for July on TCM is the lovely Maureen O’Hara.

Check out the schedule here. They aren’t showing The Quiet Man (1952) or Only the Lonely (1991) where John Candy plays her son–inspired casting! But they are showing Rio Grande (1950), and there are some other good ones on the list.

Enjoy your holiday weekend! Celebrate responsibly!

2 Comments

July 1, 2014

“Gentleman, this is America!”*

by chuckofish

Last Saturday (June 28) was the birthday of Emerson Hough (1857–1923), the author of some 34 books and countless magazine articles and a distant cousin of my great-grandmother. You can read all about him here.

Emerson was also descended from the original Hough who emigrated from Chester, England in 1683 to Pennsylvania, but his ancestors subsequently moved from Pennsylvania to Loudoun County, Virginia.

Family legend has it that Hough’s most famous novel, The Covered Wagon, was based on my great-great grandmother’s journal.

If there is any truth to this story, boy, wouldn’t I love to get my hands on that journal! One of these days I’ll have to venture up to the University of Iowa (Hough’s alma mater) to check out his archive. (There are also letters in the collections at Iowa State and the University of Virginia.)

Besides writing fiction, Hough was also a journalist and conservationist. He once explored Yellowstone on skis and his reports were largely responsible for an act of Congress protecting the buffalo in the park.

One of the highlights of his writing career came when Theodore Roosevelt wrote him a fan letter, praising Story of the Cowboy (1897):

I don’t know when I have read a book that I like more than your “Story of the Cowboy.” I have always been hoping against hope that such a book would be written, but I had about given it up, and there was scant time remaining in which anyone could write it. At last, thank Heaven, it has been done! Not only is it to my mind a most fascinating book, but I think it is as valuable a bit of genuine contemporary history as I have yet examined.

Hough died in Evanston, Illinois, on April 30, 1923, a week after seeing the Chicago premiere of the silent movie The Covered Wagon, which was a huge hit. It ran fifty-nine weeks at the Criterion Theater in New York City, eclipsing the record of The Birth of a Nation. He is buried in Galesburg, Illinois.

findagrave.com

Anyway, I plan to toast old Emerson Hough tonight. And while I’m at it, I’ll toast Teddy Roosevelt and his Rough Riders who stormed San Juan Hill on this day in 1898.

How about you?

*First line of The Mississippi Bubble by Emerson Hough

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June 30, 2014

And that’s my opinion from the blue, blue sky

by chuckofish

At church last week we were exhorted to “Bring your smartphones, tablets, laptops, cameras… any electronic communications device…” to church yesterday as we joined a nationwide effort to “make the Good News go viral.”

O gee. No thanks. Call me old-fashioned, but I wanted no part of this:

Use your smartphone, tablet or other electronic devices to share comments, prayers or pictures on your favorite social media sites (Facebook, Twitter, etc.).
Use #Episcopal and #GraceKirkwood.
Text questions or comments to Fr. Todd during the service.
Post a selfie with people around you during the time of the Peace, in the Narthex, during coffee hour, etc.
(please ask permission before taking anyone’s picture).
Use #Episcopal and #GraceKirkwood.
Keep an eye on the monitor next to the pulpit to see what other people are posting (yes, there will be a TV in the sanctuary — just for today!).
Come to our Sunday Forum at 9 a.m. in LaVielle Conference Room (all ages welcome).

I suppose this was supposed to appeal to young people, motivating them to come back to the new hipster Episcopal Church. See, we are with it! We’re still where it’s at, man.

The rector takes a selfie

Passing the peace

Yes, a picture speaks 1000 words. (These were on Facebook.) Now all doubt has been erased concerning whether or not we are all huge nerds at Grace.

Anyway, I stayed home. Because–zut alors!– I think church should be a haven away from cell phones and monitors.

That was what I didn’t do this weekend. As for what I did do–it was the usual: estate sale-ing, house cleaning, yard work, a little shopping, reading, and movie watching. I watched The Magnificent Seven (as I said I would) and Blackthorn, as my dual personality suggested. I am proud to say, I figured out how to turn on the subtitles (on Netflix). Go me.

I also watched Murder My Sweet (1944), which is the best film version of a Raymond Chandler novel (Farewell, My Lovely). Dick Powell is, in my estimation, better than Humphrey Bogart. I know that’s sacrilegious to some, but it’s what I think.

Wasn’t it swell of the boy to drop it by for me? It is a really good movie, full of wonderful Chandler lines like “I caught the blackjack right behind my ear. A black pool opened up at my feet. I dived in. It had no bottom. I felt pretty good – like an amputated leg.”

I also had a big work event on Saturday which went very well. Now I have two work days and then the OM and I are heading up to Michigan to celebrate the 4th of July and my brother’s birthday with my siblings and their better halves. Go team.

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