dual personalities

Tag: quotes

I am an American

by chuckofish

American-revolution

“I am an American; free born and free bred, where I acknowledge no man as my superior, except for his own worth, or as my inferior, except for his own demerit.”

― Theodore Roosevelt

Have a great 4th of July–celebrate responsibly! Read some Emerson!

Concord Hymn

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.

The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
And Time the ruined bridge has swept
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.

On this green bank, by this soft stream,
We set to-day a votive stone;
That memory may their deed redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

Spirit, that made those heroes dare,
To die, and leave their children free,
Bid Time and Nature gently spare
The shaft we raise to them and thee.

–Ralph Waldo Emerson

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And last but not least…Happy Birthday to our dear brother!

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Long remember

by chuckofish

This week marks the 150th anniversary (July 1–3, 1863) of the battle of Gettysburg in Pennsylvania. The battle involved the largest number of casualties of the entire war (Antietam had the most in a single day) and is often described as the war’s turning point.

Last year I read Long Remember written in 1934 by Mackinlay Kantor.

long remember

It is considered the first “realistic” novel about the Civil War. I guess that means it does not glorify it or romanticize it in any way. It deals with the residents of the town of Gettysburg and how the battle affected them.

“She had never thought that war could be like this, with such a desperate casualness about it. War was fought in fields: there was the field of Shiloh, the field of Antietam, the field of Fredericksburg. She knew; she had read the papers. The papers mentioned nothing of people running across back yards and knocking down the clothes-props as they went.”

I liked it very much and highly recommend it.

I have also read The Killer Angels by Michael Shaara, the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel of 1975.

Killer Angels

This novel introduces you to all the main players on both sides in the battle of Gettysburg. My favorite, of course, is Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain, who, though we share a surname, I cannot claim as a relative.

Col. Joshua Chamberlain of the 20th Maine Infantry, awarded the Medal of Honor, Governor of Maine and President of Bowdoin College

Col. Joshua Chamberlain of the 20th Maine Infantry, awarded the Medal of Honor, Governor of Maine and President of Bowdoin College

Col. Chamberlain was, of course, a Chamberlain from Maine, while our Chamberlins (sans “a”) hailed from Vermont. You will recall that my dual personality blogged about our other non-relative at Gettysburg, Waldo Farrar here.

They broke the mold when they made old Joshua Chamberlin. A devout Congregationalist and choir member, he was a college professor when the Civil War began. Chamberlain believed the Union needed to be supported by “all those willing” against the Confederacy. Of his desire to serve in the War he wrote to Maine’s Governor Israel Washburn, Jr., “I fear, this war, so costly of blood and treasure, will not cease until men of the North are willing to leave good positions, and sacrifice the dearest personal interests, to rescue our country from desolation, and defend the national existence against treachery.” Chamberlain put his money where his mouth was and joined up.

For his “daring heroism and great tenacity in holding his position on the Little Round Top against repeated assaults, and carrying the advance position on the Great Round Top”, Chamberlain was awarded the Medal of Honor.

In early 1865, Chamberlain was given command of the 1st Brigade of the 1st Division of V Corps, and he continued to act with courage and resolve. On March 29, 1865, his brigade participated in a major skirmish on the Quaker Road during Grant’s final advance that would finish the war. Despite losses, another wound (in the left arm and chest that almost caused amputation), and nearly being captured, Chamberlain was successful and brevetted to the rank of major general by President Abraham Lincoln. Chamberlain gained the name “Bloody Chamberlain” at Quaker Road. Chamberlain kept a bible and framed picture of his wife in his left front “chest” pocket. A confederate shot at Chamberlain. The bullet went through his horse’s neck, hit the picture frame, entered under Chamberlain’s skin in the front of his chest, traveled around his body under the skin along the rib, and exited his back. To all observers Union and Confederate, it appeared that he was shot through his chest. He continued to encourage his men to attack. All sides cheered his valiant courage, and the union assault was successful.

In all, Chamberlain served in 20 battles and numerous skirmishes, was cited for bravery four times, had six horses shot from under him, and was wounded six times.

Chamberlain left the army soon after the war ended, going back to his home state of Maine. Due to his immense popularity he served as Governor of Maine for four one-year terms after he won election as a Republican. His victory in 1866 set the record for the most votes and the highest percentage for any Maine governor by that time. He would break his own record in 1868.

After leaving political office, he returned to Bowdoin College. In 1871, he was appointed president of Bowdoin and remained in that position until 1883, when he was forced to resign due to ill health from his war wounds.

Chamberlain died of his lingering wartime wounds in 1914 at Portland, Maine, age 85, and is buried in Pine Grove Cemetery in Brunswick, Maine. He was the last Civil War veteran to die as a result of wounds from the war.

Well, I seem to have gotten off the subject of Gettysburg here, but Col. Chamberlain has that effect on me. We should all toast Col. Chamberlain tonight and all those brave souls who fought during those bloody July days in Gettysburg. Going to the Gettysburg National Military Park is on my bucket list. One of these days.

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“The faith itself was simple; he believed in the dignity of man. His ancestors were Huguenots, refugees of a chained and bloody Europe. He had learned their stories in the cradle. He had grown up believing in America and the individual and it was a stronger faith than his faith in God. This was the land where no man had to bow. In this place at last a man could stand up free of the past, free of tradition and blood ties and the curse of royalty and become what he wished to become. This was the first place on earth where the man mattered more than the state. True freedom had begun here and it would spread eventually over all the earth. But it had begun HERE. The fact of slavery upon this incredibly beautiful new clean earth was appalling, but more even than that was the horror of old Europe, the curse of nobility, which the South was transplanting to new soil. They were forming a new aristocracy, a new breed of glittering men, and Chamberlain had come to crush it. But he was fighting for the dignity of man and in that way he was fighting for himself. If men were equal in America, all the former Poles and English and Czechs and blacks, then they were equal everywhere, and there was really no such thing as foreigner; there were only free men and slaves. And so it was not even patriotism but a new faith. The Frenchman may fight for France, but the American fights for mankind, for freedom; for the people, not the land.”

― Michael Shaara, The Killer Angels

“I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.” *

by chuckofish

On Saturday I’m flying to Florida to meet up with “my girls” for a week on the beach.

On Tuesday my dual personality will leave for her biennual journey to England to visit her in-laws.

Posting will most probably be intermittent, but don’t worry, we’ll be checking in from time to time. My husband will be loaded down with all manner of laptop, iPad, iPhone, etc. so I will not be cut off from the world. God forbid.

Five years ago in Sanibel

In Sanibel: Team Skinnypants

While we are gone, the boy and his bride will move into their new (old) house. That worked out nicely, right?

*T.S. Eliot, “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”

You remember…

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Where are you now?

by chuckofish

Facebook, as you know, is a veritable font of new-agey platitudes and politically-correct advice. Once in a rare while, however, I find something that a friend has posted that makes me sit up and pay attention.

laotzu

Lao Tzu, or Laozi, is traditionally regarded as the author of the Tao Te Ching and as the founder of Taoism. I readily admit I know next to nothing about eastern religions. (If you are interested, you can read about it here.)

Whatever. I just think these particular words are eminently true. It is SO important to live in the day.

Here is what Frederick Buechner says about it:

“Much as we wish, not one of us can bring back yesterday or shape tomorrow. Only today is ours, and it will not be ours for long, and once it is gone it will never in all time be ours again. Thou only knowest what it holds in store for us, yet even we know something of what it will hold. The chance to speak the truth, to show mercy, to ease another’s burden. The chance to resist evil, to remember all the good times and good people of our past, to be brave, to be strong, to be glad.”

― Frederick Buechner, The Hungering Dark

So BE in the present. Or at least try hard. Look around you. Pay attention. Listen. Be brave, be strong, be glad.

Praise the Lord.

Happy Father’s Day

by chuckofish

ward cleaver

“Then came the reflection, how little at any time could a father do for the wellbeing of his children! The fact of their being children implied their need of an all-powerful father: must there not then be such a father? Therewith the truth dawned upon him, that first of truths, which all his church-going and Bible-reading had hitherto failed to disclose, that, for life to be a good thing and worth living, a man must be the child of a perfect father, and know him. In his terrible perturbation about his children, he lifted up his heart—not to the Governor of the world; not to the God of Abraham or Moses; not in the least to the God of the Kirk; least of all to the God of the Shorter Catechism; but to the faithful creator and Father of David Barclay. The aching soul which none but a perfect father could have created capable of deploring its own fatherly imperfection, cried out to the father of fathers on behalf of his children, and as he cried, a peace came stealing over him such as he had never before felt.”

― George MacDonald, Heather and Snow

Happy Fathers Day to all you good fathers out there and grace to you, and peace, from God our Father.

The old rag and bone shop

by chuckofish

Photo of WBY by Lady Ottoline Morrell

Photo of WBY by Lady Ottoline Morrell

In honor of William Butler Yeats’ birthday, here’s a poem for June 13.

“The Circus Animals’ Desertion” (1939)

I
I sought a theme and sought for it in vain,
I sought it daily for six weeks or so.
Maybe at last, being but a broken man,
I must be satisfied with my heart, although
Winter and summer till old age began
My circus animals were all on show,
Those stilted boys, that burnished chariot,
Lion and woman and the Lord knows what.

II
What can I do but enumerate old themes?
First that sea-rider Oisin led by the nose
Through three enchanted islands, allegorical dreams,
Vain gaiety, vain battle, vain repose,
Themes of the embittered heart, or so it seems,
That might adorn old songs or courtly shows;
But what cared I that set him on to ride,
I, starved for the bosom of his faery bride?

And then a counter truth filled out its play,
The Countess Cathleen was the name I gave it:
She, pity-crazed, had given her soul away,
But masterful Heaven had intervened to save it.
I thought my dear must her own soul destroy,
So did fanaticism and hate enslave it,
And this brought forth a dream and soon enough
This dream itself had all my thought and love.

And when the Fool and Blind Man stole the bread
Cuchulain fought the ungovernable sea;
Heart-mysteries there, and yet when all is said
It was the dream itself enchanted me:
Character isolated by a deed
To engross the present and dominate memory.
Players and painted stage took all my love
And not those things that they were emblems of.

III
Those masterful images, because complete
Grew in pure mind, but out of what began?
A mound of refuse, of the sweepings of a street,
Old kettles, old bottles, and a broken can,
Old iron, old bones, old rags, that raving slut
Who keeps the till. Now that my ladder’s gone
I must lie down where all ladders start
In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart.

Walter_de_la_Mare,_Bertha_Georgie_Yeats_(née_Hyde-Lees),_William_Butler_Yeats,_unknown_woman_by_Lady_Ottoline_Morrell

Enjoy the day! Clearly WBY knew how to party down.

Mid-week readjustment

by chuckofish

 “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

“Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

We tend to think that if Jesus Christ compels us to do something and we are obedient to Him, He will lead us to great success. We should never have the thought that our dreams of success are God’s purpose for us. In fact, His purpose may be exactly the opposite. We have the idea that God is leading us toward a particular end or a desired goal, but He is not. The question of whether or not we arrive at a particular goal is of little importance, and reaching it becomes merely an episode along the way. What we see as only the process of reaching a particular end, God sees as the goal itself.

What is my vision of God’s purpose for me? Whatever it may be, His purpose is for me to depend on Him and on His power now. If I can stay calm, faithful, and unconfused while in the middle of the turmoil of life, the goal of the purpose of God is being accomplished in me. God is not working toward a particular finish–His purpose is the process itself.

–Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

*The above illustration is from GodBricks, “Blogging at the intersection between LEGO and religion”.

What’s in my bag?

by chuckofish

Over the past few weeks there have been a lot of blog posts out there attempting to answer that important question: What’s in your bag? This seems to be something that preoccupies a lot of women. Since a love of small leather goods runs in my family (my father was a big fan), I thought I would jump on the blog bandwagon and show you what’s in my purse!

This is my red Longchamp “Le Pliage” Medium Shoulder Tote. I also have the same tote in gunmetal gray and bright green. I am probably due for a new one right about now. Let me just say, it is the perfect purse. Plain, simple–and it holds just the right amount of stuff without getting too heavy. The shoulder straps are the right length and you can even sponge it off.

redpurse

This is what fits inside.

INSIDE

My Orla Kiely zip wallet.

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This cute Brooklyn zip pouch that daughter #1 gave me. It holds my checkbook and my small calendar and a couple of little blank books which daughter #2 gave me. You can never have too many of those you know.

brooklynzip

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My Vera Bradley eyeglass cases. Daughter #1 gave me the elephant one a long time ago. She also gave me the elephant shopping bag from J. Crew which folds up in a little envelope. I pull it out at the grocery store and say, “I have my own bag!” when they ask, “Plastic or paper?” You are impressed with my green-ness, I know.

glasses

A friend brought this cute zipper bag back from Mexico. It’s the perfect size for a cell phone.

phone

My needlepoint keychain which daughter #1 picked up when she interned at the TODAY show back in the day. Katie Couric got all sorts of freebies and this was one of them. The “I am an Episcopalian” medal is in case I am ever in a car wreck and someone wants to give me Last Rites. I remember reading how Eddie Rickenbacker was in a terrible plane crash and they brought a priest over to give him Last Rites and he yelled at him, all crushed and his eyeball hanging out, “I’m a damn Protestant! Get out!” Well, we just want to avoid any such confusion.

KEYRING

You may have observed a theme here, i.e. my daughters are always giving me nice things to put in my purse. Aren’t they wonderful? And the truth is, whenever I use one of these items throughout the day, I think of the lovely daughter who gave it to me.

I have a friend who used her mother’s old wallet for twenty years after she died. It was getting pretty beaten up as you can imagine, but she just couldn’t bring herself to part with it. Finally, she appeared with a new one and I asked her about it. She said she had been looking through some old things of her mothers and she found another wallet(!) which she then commenced to use. I know just how she feels. That is one of the reasons we are such good friends.

In conclusion: “Good order is the foundation of all things.”
–Edmund Burke (Reflections on the Revolution in France)

Weekend update

by chuckofish

How was your weekend? Well, Saturday was the Ethical Society Book Sale and, as usual, I had a good time sorting through the books, choosing $20 worth of hardbacks and paperbacks ranging from beach reading to classics. What is better than loading up with $1 and $2 books? Not much.

books

I also went to a couple of estate sales and found a few things, including a $4 pair of new-with-tags Lilly Pulitzer swimming trunks for my old man to wear in Florida.

lillyP

Oh, the joy of the hunt and finding things you really weren’t looking for but that you really need!

The boy came over on Sunday and we cleaned up the garage. I mean really cleaned it up. We threw away a lot of stuff–old sports equipment, broken folding chairs, a shelf of muddy athletic shoes, umbrellas without handles, half-filled bags of gardening stuff, general detritus. It was glorious.

trashbags

By the way, I seem to have missed Walt Whitman’s birthday on May 31, and for this I apologize.

walt-whitman

Here is James Earl Jones reading from “Song of Myself”. Scroll down a bit and then take a few minutes to listen to it. You’ll be glad you did. Wonderful.

Have a good week! I am hoping for Quiet and Uneventful.

Note to self

by chuckofish

dunkin-donuts-breakfast

I don’t know about you, but I really want to try one of these donut, egg and bacon combos.

We had our annual meeting yesterday and I think I deserve one.

The meeting went well, so it would be a celebratory egg sandwich, not a drown-my-sorrows one. All the better I say.

What do you think?

bart-on-the-road6

“Donuts. Is there anything they can’t do?” –Homer Simpson