At this rate I'll never finish another book. By the time I go to bed,I'm usually pretty tired (or else, why go to bed). But that's also the quiet time of day when I pick up a book and start to read. Plus, reading is a good "clear-your-mind-to-get-ready-for-sleep" activity. That takes about three minutes. Five on a long night. That might get me through one or two pages in the book I'm reading. Quckisilver. Which is a long historical novel. I don't think I'm going to make it to the end unless I pick up the nightly pace or go to the beach. One or the other. Or both. Beach times are good times to knock down a lot of pages. I could probably get through the remaining 400 or so pages in one solid week at the beach.
Tonight we're curling up on the couch and looking for a beach place to rent for a week this summer. It's a nice wintry thing to do. To imagine the warm sand and waves and ocean breezes blowing in off the Atlantic. The noise of the crowd. People having fun. Or not. The noise of book pages turning one after the other. To the end.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
Routine Day
It's back to the "routine" today, with work and all. My Mom and I drove back yesterday from Pennsylvania and we also had Kate's Brother Josh and his wife Sandra in for the night. They fly back to California today. From Dulles Airport. But it looks like it will be an okay weather day. 40s and sunny.
Over the next three days at work I interview four people looking for a job as "Development and Communications Officer." They all bring unique qualifications to the table and each is unlike the other. So this should be interesting. I think it will come down to an intuitive decision on my part. Most things do. Decisions I mean. Otherwise it gets too complicated trying to do things rationally and thoughtfully. Too much energy going into the mix. Decisions should be easy. Like life.
People make too much of life. Like it's supposed to be hard or something. Living things wouldn't exist to begin with if life was hard. I mean if life happened out of crazy random happenstance, how hard could it be.
Yeah. Intuition's the way to go. Easy.
Over the next three days at work I interview four people looking for a job as "Development and Communications Officer." They all bring unique qualifications to the table and each is unlike the other. So this should be interesting. I think it will come down to an intuitive decision on my part. Most things do. Decisions I mean. Otherwise it gets too complicated trying to do things rationally and thoughtfully. Too much energy going into the mix. Decisions should be easy. Like life.
People make too much of life. Like it's supposed to be hard or something. Living things wouldn't exist to begin with if life was hard. I mean if life happened out of crazy random happenstance, how hard could it be.
Yeah. Intuition's the way to go. Easy.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Up North
Just a quick note from up north. Franklin, PA way. I'm here in a coffee shop on the main drag of downtown Franklin. Good chai. And it's warm here! The sun is breaking through and its well into the 50s! Much warmer than in Alexandria right now. Although I imagine that will change. Gift opening today for some of the "Gorman" side of the clan. And roast beef dinner. Just like Christmas Day only not.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
December 25
I'm not sure why but today seems quite like most other days. Which is maybe the way it should be. I mean babies are born most every other day of the year, too. In not-so-good conditions. Under not the best of times. A bit of divinity in each child. Within each moment of creation.
It is such a normal, not-out-of-the-ordinary day that when I opened my daily reading of the Rule of Benedict, which is presented by date throughout the year, I caught myself glancing down to the date icon at the bottom of my computer screen to see what date I should be reading in the Rule. "Ah, yes! It's the 25th you dummy."
I told the story of Alfie the Christmas Tree at yesterday afternoon's Christmas Eve service for the children. They were quiet throughout. The children. So I think they were listening. That story is about the ordinary, too. All life is a special kind of thing, Alfie reminds us.
Today we have Irish stew and corned beef and cabbage for Christmas dinner. Going to Ireland this year. Fruit grunt for dessert.
Tomorrow is December 26.
It is such a normal, not-out-of-the-ordinary day that when I opened my daily reading of the Rule of Benedict, which is presented by date throughout the year, I caught myself glancing down to the date icon at the bottom of my computer screen to see what date I should be reading in the Rule. "Ah, yes! It's the 25th you dummy."
I told the story of Alfie the Christmas Tree at yesterday afternoon's Christmas Eve service for the children. They were quiet throughout. The children. So I think they were listening. That story is about the ordinary, too. All life is a special kind of thing, Alfie reminds us.
Today we have Irish stew and corned beef and cabbage for Christmas dinner. Going to Ireland this year. Fruit grunt for dessert.
Tomorrow is December 26.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Sparkling Lights
We saw the national Christmas Tree and all of the little state Christmas trees last night. On the Ellipse near the White House. 
There were trains there, too. Lots of them. Pretty big model trains as model trains go. Round and round villages and round the national tree. There were quite a few people there, too. The weather was nice. Chilly but calm. The four of us - Kate, her two brothers, Robert and John, and myself - were extra warm because we had walked a ways from the Metro (Yellow Line) to the trees. Walked first toward the Capital then back down the National Mall toward the Ellipse. Taking a slight jog onto Pennsylvania Avenue to cut off some distance from our trek. I would guess we walked a couple of miles total.
But it was a good evening for a walk. After dinner is a good walking time. A good get-out-and-stretch-after- sitting-and-eating time.
Then we walked to the Metro again. The Blue Line this time. Headed south to the Braddock Road station. Walked home again.
There were trains there, too. Lots of them. Pretty big model trains as model trains go. Round and round villages and round the national tree. There were quite a few people there, too. The weather was nice. Chilly but calm. The four of us - Kate, her two brothers, Robert and John, and myself - were extra warm because we had walked a ways from the Metro (Yellow Line) to the trees. Walked first toward the Capital then back down the National Mall toward the Ellipse. Taking a slight jog onto Pennsylvania Avenue to cut off some distance from our trek. I would guess we walked a couple of miles total. But it was a good evening for a walk. After dinner is a good walking time. A good get-out-and-stretch-after- sitting-and-eating time.
Then we walked to the Metro again. The Blue Line this time. Headed south to the Braddock Road station. Walked home again.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Lighten up
It's December 23, which means the days are getting longer. Imperceptibly maybe. But I swear it was lighter walking to the Metro this morning. Could have been in part because it was nearly cloudless, as well.
Other things are lighter too. Car traffic. Metro crowds (even the ones heading toward DC). Spirits of people. In general.
No so lightening is my weight. The proliferation of food nearly everywhere these days means nearly constant munch time. My weight will have to wait until the new year to unheavy itself. Serious lightening time then. Apples and oranges and pears. Oh my!
Other things are lighter too. Car traffic. Metro crowds (even the ones heading toward DC). Spirits of people. In general.
No so lightening is my weight. The proliferation of food nearly everywhere these days means nearly constant munch time. My weight will have to wait until the new year to unheavy itself. Serious lightening time then. Apples and oranges and pears. Oh my!
Monday, December 22, 2008
Brrrrrrrr!
I now know it can get cold in the Washington DC area. It's windy and clear and crisp out now. The coldest day of the season so far by far! Kooper and I didn't go for our typically long walk this morning. I think he would have but the cold wind cut through my multilayers and seemed to find each seam and crevice. So Kooper was kind enough to agree to wait for Kate's walk in an hour or so to get his "exercise" in. Kooper has a friend to walk with these next few days. Seneca. John and Maggie's dog is here. John and Maggie are here, too. And Robert. John and Robert are Kate's brothers and Maggie John's wife. Down from the grand state of Rhode Island - little in size only. Great spirit, I'm sure. In that mix of New York City and New England "get lost, let me help, you bum, isn't that cute. bah humbug, merry Christmas" kind of tradition. Split personality.
So. Time for some soup. Not literally. Not now at 5-something o'clock in the morning. But it's the time of year for soup. Warms the heart and body and soul. We had some last night. Potato. Wards off the brrrrr and replaces it with mmmmm.
So. Time for some soup. Not literally. Not now at 5-something o'clock in the morning. But it's the time of year for soup. Warms the heart and body and soul. We had some last night. Potato. Wards off the brrrrr and replaces it with mmmmm.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Scrooge and Power
I've heard a lot of talk of power lately. Never being one to obey authority blindly, I always have to wonder what people really are talking about when the talk about the power of this or that, or so-and-so's authority, or following this rule or that law. Rules and laws are fine as far as they go but I think sometimes the people in "power" use them to their own ends. However seemingly benign. However blatant. To the detriment of life and love.
I read recently - just this morning in a commentary on the Rule of Benedict - that "Law is simply a candle on the path of life to lead us to the good we seek." That's Joan Chittister, by the way. That's a nice summary of the role of law. I've always liked the similar definition of "rule" that flows from its Latin roots: railing or guideline. Nothing hard and fast. Something that guides but doesn't suppress. Something bendable to the times and conditions and people that the rules are meant to serve.
Authority and power? Those derive from the people. No one can take on the mantle of authority themselves. Authority, I believe, is something conferred upon a person by others. Only then does that person become a guide, a mentor, a leader. I think George Bush tried to be an authority onto himself. But in the end not many people were willing to grant him that privilege and honor.
Abused authority and law and power are the reasons I saw over one hundred people come through the doors where I work yesterday looking for a meal to prepare at Christmastime. Looking for a few nice gifts for their children. And I'll see over a hundred more today. And I'll see that many people again on Monday before we close shop. Before 8 PM.
People - most of us really - without authority but with plenty of law and rule to fall back on have seen to it that we have more and need less. Have seen to it that others have less and need more. Blatantly maybe. Benignly more likely. But shamefully, mindlessly and heartlessly nonetheless.
Ebenezer Scrooge wasn't really a bad person after all. He followed society's rules. Made some rules himself. Likely thought he was a power all by himself. Was "comfortable" with his status in life. Until the ghosts of his past discomforted him. And in the end he broke all of the rules to become human again.
May we be so blessed with ghosts to disturb us this Christmas!
I read recently - just this morning in a commentary on the Rule of Benedict - that "Law is simply a candle on the path of life to lead us to the good we seek." That's Joan Chittister, by the way. That's a nice summary of the role of law. I've always liked the similar definition of "rule" that flows from its Latin roots: railing or guideline. Nothing hard and fast. Something that guides but doesn't suppress. Something bendable to the times and conditions and people that the rules are meant to serve.
Authority and power? Those derive from the people. No one can take on the mantle of authority themselves. Authority, I believe, is something conferred upon a person by others. Only then does that person become a guide, a mentor, a leader. I think George Bush tried to be an authority onto himself. But in the end not many people were willing to grant him that privilege and honor.
Abused authority and law and power are the reasons I saw over one hundred people come through the doors where I work yesterday looking for a meal to prepare at Christmastime. Looking for a few nice gifts for their children. And I'll see over a hundred more today. And I'll see that many people again on Monday before we close shop. Before 8 PM.
People - most of us really - without authority but with plenty of law and rule to fall back on have seen to it that we have more and need less. Have seen to it that others have less and need more. Blatantly maybe. Benignly more likely. But shamefully, mindlessly and heartlessly nonetheless.
Ebenezer Scrooge wasn't really a bad person after all. He followed society's rules. Made some rules himself. Likely thought he was a power all by himself. Was "comfortable" with his status in life. Until the ghosts of his past discomforted him. And in the end he broke all of the rules to become human again.
May we be so blessed with ghosts to disturb us this Christmas!
Friday, December 19, 2008
Grow old with me (by request)
Click here for video of arrangement without strings
Click here for a newer arrangement with George Martin's strings arrangement done at the request of Yoko Ono
Grow old along with me
The best is yet to be
When our time has come
We will be as one
God bless our love
God bless our love
Grow old along with me
Two branches of one tree
Face the setting sun
When the day is done
God bless our love
God bless our love
Spending our lives together
Man and wife together
World without end
World without end
Grow old along with me
Whatever fate decrees
We will see it through
For our love is true
God bless our love
God bless our love
Click here for a newer arrangement with George Martin's strings arrangement done at the request of Yoko Ono
Grow old along with me
The best is yet to be
When our time has come
We will be as one
God bless our love
God bless our love
Grow old along with me
Two branches of one tree
Face the setting sun
When the day is done
God bless our love
God bless our love
Spending our lives together
Man and wife together
World without end
World without end
Grow old along with me
Whatever fate decrees
We will see it through
For our love is true
God bless our love
God bless our love
Ho Ho Ho
This is going to be a long weekend. Both Saturday and Sunday, all day, each day I'll be helping out at the office where I work in what we call the Holiday Room. A room that is right now stacked full of toys and books and puzzles and things for children. Parents (who have signed up already) will come in and "shop" for free for gifts for their children. I imagine it will be more than "parents" in the strictest sense of the word, but you get my drift. The gifts are segregated somewhat by type and gender (where it applies) and age. It should be fun I guess. Long, though. It actually continues into Monday.
I'm hoping that we don't have a "WalMart-lets-bust-down-the-doors-and-crush-the-employee" moment. I think it will be somewhat calm. First, because the event is well organized. The number of families who signed up was prescribed ahead of time so that there would be enough good gifts for everyone (the gifts are contributed). Second, it's been my experience at the agency that people with little tend to be less greedy and pushy and more polite and grateful than the rest of us on the whole. That's a tendency mind you. Not a hard and fast rule. There are exceptions, as in any trend.
Speaking of trends. It rained some yesterday. It's raining right now. It's been raining on and off for well over a week now. I think there was one day of sun this past week but I can't remember when. I'm ready for some sunshine. Even if it's cold sunshine. Rain and in the 40s is more depressing than sun and in the 20s in my book. If I had a book, that is.
I'm hoping that we don't have a "WalMart-lets-bust-down-the-doors-and-crush-the-employee" moment. I think it will be somewhat calm. First, because the event is well organized. The number of families who signed up was prescribed ahead of time so that there would be enough good gifts for everyone (the gifts are contributed). Second, it's been my experience at the agency that people with little tend to be less greedy and pushy and more polite and grateful than the rest of us on the whole. That's a tendency mind you. Not a hard and fast rule. There are exceptions, as in any trend.
Speaking of trends. It rained some yesterday. It's raining right now. It's been raining on and off for well over a week now. I think there was one day of sun this past week but I can't remember when. I'm ready for some sunshine. Even if it's cold sunshine. Rain and in the 40s is more depressing than sun and in the 20s in my book. If I had a book, that is.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Hard to Believe
It's hard to believe that Christmas is less than a week away. Kate and I went down to King Street in Old Town Alexandria last night. The best purchase was pizza from a nice pizza place/Italian restaurant down there. We got a few gifts for people, too, but most are gotten by this point. In fact, many for the Pennsylvania crowd are up in Pennsylvania already, having been shipped by my tiny elves at Amazon.com to my Mom's house directly for opening up on the weekend after the big day (if the weather cooperates and I can make it up!). All of the Pennsylvania gifts that is, except for some car tires that Kate and I are getting my daughter. They don't wrap or ship to well.
Some other things that fall into the "hard to believe" category . . .
the depth of this recession and the depths to which it might still go
my youngest child is almost 21
it still hasn't snowed here in the DC area yet
we are going to have our first African-American president
I have a job that's not in the science or conservation field
I'm ahead in the Pennsylvania DEP Meadville office football pool
Lady is gone
we have a Christmas tree that is narrow and doesn't touch the ceiling
George Bush is finally leaving (I thought he'd never leave!)
Some other things that fall into the "hard to believe" category . . .
the depth of this recession and the depths to which it might still go
my youngest child is almost 21
it still hasn't snowed here in the DC area yet
we are going to have our first African-American president
I have a job that's not in the science or conservation field
I'm ahead in the Pennsylvania DEP Meadville office football pool
Lady is gone
we have a Christmas tree that is narrow and doesn't touch the ceiling
George Bush is finally leaving (I thought he'd never leave!)
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Rain
Wet. Soggy. Damp. Drizzly. Moist. It's been like this for two days now. Hopefully it will stop today sometime. But, then again, I prefer this to - Cold. Freezing. Frigid. Arctic. Snow.
Plus, you don't need to slide through it or shovel it!
Plus, you don't need to slide through it or shovel it!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
A Quick Addendum
A quick addendum to the blog below: I was wondering where a particular gift was in the "shipping-from-Amazon.com" sense, so I checked the status online. The online version of reality said it had arrived yesterday. Well, I hadn't seen it. Just the pants (see below). Then I looked. It said that UPS had delivered the package to the backdoor! I never looked in the real world out the back door yesterday. Had I checked the online world I would have known to look out my back door in the real world to check for the package.
Sure enough - there it was. Sitting there just beyond the back door. In the real world. Just like the computer told me it was.
Sure enough - there it was. Sitting there just beyond the back door. In the real world. Just like the computer told me it was.
New Pants
When I got home last night there was a package from L.L. Bean wedged in between the storm door and main front door. It was addressed to me! Pants. There was no indication who the pants were from and Kate was out for the evening. So, I'm guessing they are from my Mom. Thanks Mom. I guess. She doesn't read this blog. Doesn't have a computer and doesn't really want one. Some people live life in the real three-dimensional world. The touch and see and smell and feel world.
An awful lot of our information is two-dimensional these days. Flat. Odorless. Tasteless. No warmth or cold. That information has color and motion. It still carries a message. Just incomplete. But humans are good at taking incomplete information and filling in the blanks to make a complete picture. The thing is . . . we each fill the blanks in with information from our own, individual pasts and own individual present realities. So, the "complete" picture ends up being something different for each of us. Each has his or her own version of reality. Our own, individual, self-fulfilling version of the "truth." We each hold to that truth and act on that truth and tend to reject other people's truths. That's why we fight and war and bicker and quarrel and argue and all. We each hold our own truths to be "self evident," as Thomas Jefferson once famously wrote.
Maybe Jesus was right. The story goes that when Pilate asked him, "What is truth?" he answered, "I am." Maybe in today's version of the story Jesus would answer, "Well, duh, we all are, Pilate. You. Me. Everyone." We all have a hold of what is true. Maybe it's not until we see that there is no one "Truth" with a capital "T" but that we each have a little bit of the truth with a small "t" that we start to listen to and learn from each other. . . start to complete our incomplete information with little bits of the truth of others.
So. I don't really know if it's true whether the pants came from my Mom or not. I won't really know that until I talk with her and get some more information. . . the little bit of truth that she has to offer on the subject. Then I'll know. Then, when people say to me, "Nice pants!" I can say "Yes. Isn't that the truth!"
An awful lot of our information is two-dimensional these days. Flat. Odorless. Tasteless. No warmth or cold. That information has color and motion. It still carries a message. Just incomplete. But humans are good at taking incomplete information and filling in the blanks to make a complete picture. The thing is . . . we each fill the blanks in with information from our own, individual pasts and own individual present realities. So, the "complete" picture ends up being something different for each of us. Each has his or her own version of reality. Our own, individual, self-fulfilling version of the "truth." We each hold to that truth and act on that truth and tend to reject other people's truths. That's why we fight and war and bicker and quarrel and argue and all. We each hold our own truths to be "self evident," as Thomas Jefferson once famously wrote.
Maybe Jesus was right. The story goes that when Pilate asked him, "What is truth?" he answered, "I am." Maybe in today's version of the story Jesus would answer, "Well, duh, we all are, Pilate. You. Me. Everyone." We all have a hold of what is true. Maybe it's not until we see that there is no one "Truth" with a capital "T" but that we each have a little bit of the truth with a small "t" that we start to listen to and learn from each other. . . start to complete our incomplete information with little bits of the truth of others.
So. I don't really know if it's true whether the pants came from my Mom or not. I won't really know that until I talk with her and get some more information. . . the little bit of truth that she has to offer on the subject. Then I'll know. Then, when people say to me, "Nice pants!" I can say "Yes. Isn't that the truth!"
Monday, December 15, 2008
By the Foot
We finally picked up our Christmas tree yesterday. Saturday got too congested with other things, leaving too little free time. So it was off to the Kiwanis lot yesterday. The people there were extremely nice. Trimmed the bottom of the tree trunk so it was a fresh cut. Cut off the lower limbs so we had a nice clear trunk to put in the stand. Were very chatty and pleasant. At $10 per foot of tree they can afford to be. They are volunteers, though. Each of the foot-dollars goes to a local charity (the one I work at being one of them). So they thanked us. I thanked them. They tied the tree to the roof of our loyal car, the Subaru. And we all drove home together. Kooper came, too. He didn't seem to impressed with the tree-hunting expedition.
It's a $70 tall tree. The cats seem to like it. And the ornaments. Kate ended up putting most of them up because I watched the football game on TV. Steelers v. Ravens. Steelers won in a late game drive down the field to score the only touchdown of the entire game.
It's a $70 tall tree. The cats seem to like it. And the ornaments. Kate ended up putting most of them up because I watched the football game on TV. Steelers v. Ravens. Steelers won in a late game drive down the field to score the only touchdown of the entire game.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Decided shift
The wind is decidedly southerly this morning. A shift from last night when Kate and I were out walking and Metro-ing about. We walked the several blocks to and from the Metro. Then it was still and cold. Now there is a warmth to the cold air.
We went to to Kennedy Center last night to see a modern dance group perform. "Modern" is the operative word. It was very. The music - which I thought was the best part - was very modern, as well. The last of the three pieces, especially. Very avante garde.
We had good seats. A few rows back, although Kate would have rather had the far view from up in the balcony. I wouldn't. I prefer closer up. We were in the Eisenhower Theatre. One - and the smallest - of the three major theaters in the Kennedy Center. It's definitely the most intimate and, for my measure, nicest. It was recently redone. Like the change in the weather this morning, you could smell the newness in the theatre as soon as you walked in. Industrial construction by-products probably. I hope that's not what blew overnight into Alexandria on that southern wind!
We went to to Kennedy Center last night to see a modern dance group perform. "Modern" is the operative word. It was very. The music - which I thought was the best part - was very modern, as well. The last of the three pieces, especially. Very avante garde.
We had good seats. A few rows back, although Kate would have rather had the far view from up in the balcony. I wouldn't. I prefer closer up. We were in the Eisenhower Theatre. One - and the smallest - of the three major theaters in the Kennedy Center. It's definitely the most intimate and, for my measure, nicest. It was recently redone. Like the change in the weather this morning, you could smell the newness in the theatre as soon as you walked in. Industrial construction by-products probably. I hope that's not what blew overnight into Alexandria on that southern wind!
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Moon from the East and Snow from the North
The moon coming up over the Potomac last night during my ride from work on the Metro just hung there like a yellow, glowing firefly. A full moon. Top half shrouded in clouds.
Then it was out to dinner. An Italian restaurant a few blocks away that friends got us a gift certificate for. It was good food-salmon for me and sea bass for Kate. The sea bass was filleted for Kate. They came with the cooked fish on a dish. Skin and all. "Would you like us to fillet this for you?" Adds the the ambiance, you see. And the cost. I wonder if anyone ever says, "No thanks. I'll dig the fish meat out of the skin and pick out the bones, myself. Just lower the price some, would you?" I doubt it. You would think they would notice a trend here: "Hey! No one ever says they don't want it filleted, so let's just stop asking."
Even though the moon was out last night we got snow here. Even though it was a clear sky. The snowflakes fell in the form of two snowflake ornaments from our friends in Pennsylvania -Bruce and Marty. They'll hang from our tree this year. We're getting it today. The tree. From a parking lot. They don't grow there. They likely grow somewhere else and get to the lot somehow. Walk maybe. But once they're there at the lot the Kiwanis folks get this good idea each year of taking advantage of that crazy, random happenstance and they sell the trees! For a profit. For a good cause.
Kate (left) with Bruce & Marty
So we'll have a Christmas tree this year. From God know where. Somewhere far away. And we'll put snowflakes on it from dear friends. Also somewhere far away.
Then it was out to dinner. An Italian restaurant a few blocks away that friends got us a gift certificate for. It was good food-salmon for me and sea bass for Kate. The sea bass was filleted for Kate. They came with the cooked fish on a dish. Skin and all. "Would you like us to fillet this for you?" Adds the the ambiance, you see. And the cost. I wonder if anyone ever says, "No thanks. I'll dig the fish meat out of the skin and pick out the bones, myself. Just lower the price some, would you?" I doubt it. You would think they would notice a trend here: "Hey! No one ever says they don't want it filleted, so let's just stop asking."
Even though the moon was out last night we got snow here. Even though it was a clear sky. The snowflakes fell in the form of two snowflake ornaments from our friends in Pennsylvania -Bruce and Marty. They'll hang from our tree this year. We're getting it today. The tree. From a parking lot. They don't grow there. They likely grow somewhere else and get to the lot somehow. Walk maybe. But once they're there at the lot the Kiwanis folks get this good idea each year of taking advantage of that crazy, random happenstance and they sell the trees! For a profit. For a good cause.
Kate (left) with Bruce & Marty
So we'll have a Christmas tree this year. From God know where. Somewhere far away. And we'll put snowflakes on it from dear friends. Also somewhere far away.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Bela Fleck
We went to see Bela Fleck and the Flecktones last night at the Birchmere. It's a small, intimate performance venue (night club sort of place) a couple of miles from where we live. Sits maybe six or seven hundred people. It was packed last night. You site at tables ranging in size from a two-seater to six. You order food. I got a burger. Kate, chicken wings. THen you eat and talk and wait for the performers.
Some pretty big names have been there over the years. Stephen Stills. Johnny Cash. Carly Simon. Last night it was the Flecktones. They were very good. A banjo picker (Bela). Bass player. Wind player. Percussionist. They played a mix of modern jazz and jazz-like Christmas songs. The latter were off their new album that is nominated for a couple of Grammy Awards. I can see why. They are each talented musicians in their own right. And together even better.
Tonight we walk downtown (downtown Alexandria). To see what King Street at Christmastime is all about. Alexandria was placed in the top 10 Christmas Places in the US by some list-placing group recently. Should be nice.
Some pretty big names have been there over the years. Stephen Stills. Johnny Cash. Carly Simon. Last night it was the Flecktones. They were very good. A banjo picker (Bela). Bass player. Wind player. Percussionist. They played a mix of modern jazz and jazz-like Christmas songs. The latter were off their new album that is nominated for a couple of Grammy Awards. I can see why. They are each talented musicians in their own right. And together even better.
Tonight we walk downtown (downtown Alexandria). To see what King Street at Christmastime is all about. Alexandria was placed in the top 10 Christmas Places in the US by some list-placing group recently. Should be nice.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Dr. Horrible
Be sure to vote (once a day) for Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog for the People's Choice Award: Go Here! and click on "Favorite Online Sensation" in the left hand column.
Spring
This is one of the nice things about living down here in the not-so-deep south. Just a bit ago in the dark of morning when Kooper and I stepped outside to stroll around the block we were shocked by the warmth. It had actually warmed up over night from the low 50s into the low 60s! I know that Kooper was surprised. He looked up at me from the sidewalk in front of the house with that "Is it Spring now?" look that dogs tend to get during the Winter. "No," I said, "not yet, but we can enjoy it anyways."
So we took an especially slow walk around the block. Kooper sniffed and snuffled even more than usual. I think because the warmth adds the the movement of odors from things that only dogs and babies can smell. And i just walked slow. Just because it's something that seems to be the right thing to do in the early morning. In the Spring. Even a not-for-real Spring like today.
So we took an especially slow walk around the block. Kooper sniffed and snuffled even more than usual. I think because the warmth adds the the movement of odors from things that only dogs and babies can smell. And i just walked slow. Just because it's something that seems to be the right thing to do in the early morning. In the Spring. Even a not-for-real Spring like today.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
On Target
It's been so cold here the past couple of days. After walking from the Metro to the house last evening it took about an hour for my feet to re-warm. They were cold to begin with since our area at work is poorly heated. Then, they got chilled some more waiting for the bus. It wasn't as bad walking to the house, since I was moving, but by then the freeze had set in and there was no turning back.
I guess the cold followed us back from our trip to Pennsylvania this past weekend. Along the way at each stop the wind was whipping and what little snow there was was blowing. That was especially true at the Somerset rest stop on I-70 - the Pennsylvania Turnpike. That rest stop sits atop a hill that catches the wind no matter which direction its blowing. It's the same rest stop where you can see the large, majestic looking wind turbines turning slowly in the wind. Well, not really slowly. If you were a fly at the end of one of the turbine blades I'm sure you wouldn't say it's at all slow. The turbines are just so huge that the turning looks slow and majestic from a distance.
Speaking of flies there were several inside that rest stop too. In the men's room. In the urinals. These aren't your every day urinals, mind you. They are the waterless kind. The kind that uses a floating trap of chemical sealant that allows the waste to flow unimpeded to the pipes below while separating the rest of us from the pipes and all the stuff they contain. No water is wasted to flush things down the drain. The savings in flushes and noise and water must be tremendous.
The flies aren't your every day ones either. Someone got the clever idea of putting a decal of a fly near the bottom back wall of each urinal! Clever. The fly is a target to aim for. I read that maintenance crews at Schiphol airport in Amsterdam reported in 2005 that adding a fly target to urinals reduced bathroom cleaning costs by giving men something to aim at.
Men need that. Something to aim at. Targets. Being the goal-oriented creatures we are. And it's fun, too! Gives you something to do during the down time in the restroom. I mean, you're just standing there anyway so you might as well make a game of it. Men need that too. Fun and games, that is.
We're simple folk, us men. Don't need much. Targets. Games. Fun. Ah! The stuff of life!
I guess the cold followed us back from our trip to Pennsylvania this past weekend. Along the way at each stop the wind was whipping and what little snow there was was blowing. That was especially true at the Somerset rest stop on I-70 - the Pennsylvania Turnpike. That rest stop sits atop a hill that catches the wind no matter which direction its blowing. It's the same rest stop where you can see the large, majestic looking wind turbines turning slowly in the wind. Well, not really slowly. If you were a fly at the end of one of the turbine blades I'm sure you wouldn't say it's at all slow. The turbines are just so huge that the turning looks slow and majestic from a distance.
Speaking of flies there were several inside that rest stop too. In the men's room. In the urinals. These aren't your every day urinals, mind you. They are the waterless kind. The kind that uses a floating trap of chemical sealant that allows the waste to flow unimpeded to the pipes below while separating the rest of us from the pipes and all the stuff they contain. No water is wasted to flush things down the drain. The savings in flushes and noise and water must be tremendous.
The flies aren't your every day ones either. Someone got the clever idea of putting a decal of a fly near the bottom back wall of each urinal! Clever. The fly is a target to aim for. I read that maintenance crews at Schiphol airport in Amsterdam reported in 2005 that adding a fly target to urinals reduced bathroom cleaning costs by giving men something to aim at.
Men need that. Something to aim at. Targets. Being the goal-oriented creatures we are. And it's fun, too! Gives you something to do during the down time in the restroom. I mean, you're just standing there anyway so you might as well make a game of it. Men need that too. Fun and games, that is.
We're simple folk, us men. Don't need much. Targets. Games. Fun. Ah! The stuff of life!
Monday, December 8, 2008
Simplicity
We in the good old US of A are really into conspiracies: There was no Holocaust. The NASA moon program was faked. John F. Kennedy was killed by the mafia. Or Fidel Castro. Or the Soviets (before they stopped being the Soviets). You get the picture. We love a plot. A scheme. A complex story. It couldn't possibly be that simple. That stupid. That random that a lone shooter with a warped mind would take out JFK.
Happiness couldn't possibly as simple as giving things away so that you're free to love. Giving it all away. Sacrificing. It all. So that others can live, too. And love, too. Check this out. It's supposed to make you think. Well. It made me think anyway. Advent Conspiracy
Happiness couldn't possibly as simple as giving things away so that you're free to love. Giving it all away. Sacrificing. It all. So that others can live, too. And love, too. Check this out. It's supposed to make you think. Well. It made me think anyway. Advent Conspiracy
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Concerto No. 2, Third Movement by Friedrich Seitz
I was wrong. It wasn't wetless coming back south yesterday afternoon. An afternoon that stretched into night. There was snow around Pittsburgh. About and inch or so. And there was a bit of snow over the mountains on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. Then it was dry. Until just west of Frederick, Maryland. There was a bit of snow there. Maybe a quarter of an inch, if that, for maybe a four mile stretch over a tiny hill along Interstate 70.
Pittsburghers know how to drive in the snow. We all just slowed down and made it through going around 45 to 55 miles an hour. And for the most part the Turnpike road crews kept ahead of the snow and the roads were wet but not slick. In Maryland we stopped and waited and crawled and lurched and stopped some more. For an hour. For more. As a result we got back here in eight hours from Meadville instead of the five and one-half it should have taken.
We left Meadville after having lunch with Michael and three of our friends (our neighbors) from Meadville times. We went to Meadville right after a morning recital at Edinboro University's music building.
It was there that we saw and heard Brid play Concerto No. 2, Third Movement by Friedrich Seitz. It was the best we've ever heard her play. Her fingers danced over the violin like the toes of a ballerina playing the part of the Chinese girl in the Nutcracker. The music singing from the violin was lilting and uplifting and made the quick trip up and the long snowy trip back worthwhile.
Kate and I originally were ticketed in to see violinist virtuoso Itzhak Perlman play with the National Symphony Orchestra last night at the Kennedy Center. But when Brid's recital date was finalized we happily exchanged the tickets for a night in February. I'm glad we did. Oh I'm sure Perlman was good. Spectacular probably. But he wouldn't have brought tears to my eyes like I had in the music hall in Edinboro while listening to the Third Movement of Friedrich Seitz's Concerto No. 2.
Pittsburghers know how to drive in the snow. We all just slowed down and made it through going around 45 to 55 miles an hour. And for the most part the Turnpike road crews kept ahead of the snow and the roads were wet but not slick. In Maryland we stopped and waited and crawled and lurched and stopped some more. For an hour. For more. As a result we got back here in eight hours from Meadville instead of the five and one-half it should have taken.
We left Meadville after having lunch with Michael and three of our friends (our neighbors) from Meadville times. We went to Meadville right after a morning recital at Edinboro University's music building.
It was there that we saw and heard Brid play Concerto No. 2, Third Movement by Friedrich Seitz. It was the best we've ever heard her play. Her fingers danced over the violin like the toes of a ballerina playing the part of the Chinese girl in the Nutcracker. The music singing from the violin was lilting and uplifting and made the quick trip up and the long snowy trip back worthwhile.
Kate and I originally were ticketed in to see violinist virtuoso Itzhak Perlman play with the National Symphony Orchestra last night at the Kennedy Center. But when Brid's recital date was finalized we happily exchanged the tickets for a night in February. I'm glad we did. Oh I'm sure Perlman was good. Spectacular probably. But he wouldn't have brought tears to my eyes like I had in the music hall in Edinboro while listening to the Third Movement of Friedrich Seitz's Concerto No. 2.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Layers
I'm dressed in layers today. Three on the top. Two on the lower half (lined flannel pants). And that's before the lined jacket and cap go on. We'll be leaving soon for northwestern Pennsylvania for a whirlwind, in-and-out trip to see our granddaughter play in a violin recital tomorrow. She's becoming quite good and we're excited to see (well, really, hear) the new pieces she's learned this fall.
So, we drive up today. Go to the recital tomorrow morning. Drive back right afterward. A lot of driving but definitely worth it. The plus is that the weather will be wetless. No snow or rain or in between forecast except for maybe a few flakes in the snowbelt near Lake Erie. It will be cold, however. Thus, the layers.
I've become acclimated to the warmer temperatures down here. I don't really relish getting cold again right now. Kooper is coming along, too. He has built in layering and doesn't seem to mind the cold. In fact, he may relish it. I know he likes the snow. Maybe I need more fur. Maybe humans lost too much of our natural layering while evolving on the savannah and should grow it back now that some of us have migrated to colder regions.
Then again, probably not. In a few years there won't be any colder regions left. We will have waited Mother Nature out! Chalk one up for the humans!
So, we drive up today. Go to the recital tomorrow morning. Drive back right afterward. A lot of driving but definitely worth it. The plus is that the weather will be wetless. No snow or rain or in between forecast except for maybe a few flakes in the snowbelt near Lake Erie. It will be cold, however. Thus, the layers.
I've become acclimated to the warmer temperatures down here. I don't really relish getting cold again right now. Kooper is coming along, too. He has built in layering and doesn't seem to mind the cold. In fact, he may relish it. I know he likes the snow. Maybe I need more fur. Maybe humans lost too much of our natural layering while evolving on the savannah and should grow it back now that some of us have migrated to colder regions.
Then again, probably not. In a few years there won't be any colder regions left. We will have waited Mother Nature out! Chalk one up for the humans!
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Proposition 8
Short but important blog this morning. Click on this link to see a wonderfully hilarious Hollywood spoof musical (brief - three minutes) on California's Proposition 8 debacle (you may recognize many of the players from your favorite movies and TV shows): Funny or Die
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Dog Years
It was very cold last night. A heavy frost. The kind that you have to scrape hard from the car windows. Maybe that's the reason Kooper seemed especially slow on our morning walk. He took his time sniffing and exploring along the way. Although we didn't stay out too long, since my hands were getting numb. No gloves on. I was thinking while the two-year old-plus Kooper was moving along languidly that he's definitely out of his puppy stage. 
He's not awkward anymore. He doesn't jump up and down with crazy joy like puppies do. Like the way he used to a while back.
Bess, our Springer Spaniel from a couple dog-lives ago, was a puppy for at least three years. It wasn't until then that she calmed down and stopped chewing everything in sight. Records. Furniture. Shoes. The cardboard tubes that the paper towels and toilet paper and wrapping paper come on (she loved those). And Christmas wrappings. Christmas was her favorite time. She couldn't wait to get at the wrapping paper that was discarded as we unwrapped gifts.
Lady was five years old when I picked her up to bring home so she was technically not a puppy at all then or even close to puppy years. But I don't think she ever graduated out of her rebellious adolescence. She was always spry and had that mischievous look in her eyes, as if to say, "I'm about to do something that you won't like and I don't really care. Ha ha!"
It will be interesting to see what kind of dog the new First Family adopts to bring into the White House. And what kind of personality it has. And what famous antiques it chews up.
He's not awkward anymore. He doesn't jump up and down with crazy joy like puppies do. Like the way he used to a while back.Bess, our Springer Spaniel from a couple dog-lives ago, was a puppy for at least three years. It wasn't until then that she calmed down and stopped chewing everything in sight. Records. Furniture. Shoes. The cardboard tubes that the paper towels and toilet paper and wrapping paper come on (she loved those). And Christmas wrappings. Christmas was her favorite time. She couldn't wait to get at the wrapping paper that was discarded as we unwrapped gifts.
Lady was five years old when I picked her up to bring home so she was technically not a puppy at all then or even close to puppy years. But I don't think she ever graduated out of her rebellious adolescence. She was always spry and had that mischievous look in her eyes, as if to say, "I'm about to do something that you won't like and I don't really care. Ha ha!"
It will be interesting to see what kind of dog the new First Family adopts to bring into the White House. And what kind of personality it has. And what famous antiques it chews up.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Big Oil
I noticed yesterday that the Obama team has nominated James Jones as National Security Advisor. Jones sits on the Board of Chevron Corp., a seat that may give some people pause, since Chevron is a huge energy conglomerate and because oil is a big reason we are at war now in the Middle East. No doubt Mr. Jones will vacate his Board seat before taking his new one in the White House.
Meanwhile back on the oil-using side of the equation, our old Subaru needs an oil change. It's needed one for quite some time. Since August really. But when the oil light came on last time an oil change was preempted when our auto mechanic added oil when he saw it was low. Not this time. The oil indicator light has gone on again. No doubt prompted by the hundreds of miles put on traveling to and from Pennsylvania this past weekend. So Kate will arrange for a complete oil do-over. Drain the oil. Change the filter. Replace the gooey oil with new, clean oil. From the Middle East no doubt. Maybe even from a Chevron subsidiary.
Just doing our part for the cause.
Meanwhile back on the oil-using side of the equation, our old Subaru needs an oil change. It's needed one for quite some time. Since August really. But when the oil light came on last time an oil change was preempted when our auto mechanic added oil when he saw it was low. Not this time. The oil indicator light has gone on again. No doubt prompted by the hundreds of miles put on traveling to and from Pennsylvania this past weekend. So Kate will arrange for a complete oil do-over. Drain the oil. Change the filter. Replace the gooey oil with new, clean oil. From the Middle East no doubt. Maybe even from a Chevron subsidiary.
Just doing our part for the cause.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Meltdown
It was snow country in northwestern Pennsylvania and over its mountains this past weekend, as Kate and I traveled here and there to remind us what we're thankful for and give thanks. The snowbelt was carpeted with former Lake Erie water and some of the white stuff coated the ground at the tops of the Alleghenies. It was interesting watching the car's outside thermometer reading go down as we climbed up the mountains on Interstate 80, reaching 31 F at the summit and then slowly rising again on the downhill roll. The snow was gone, too, on the other side. Just steady light rain for the rest of the trip, first to drop Patrick off at his home and then on south to Washington. There, the weather was comparably balmy. No snow or even hint of it, except in the light icicles that drip from the rooftops as the newly placed Christmas decorations pop up here and there.
There aren't too many lights on houses yet. I'll be interested to see what downtown Alexandria looks like. The town's light-up night was last Friday and things should be festive and bright in an American Shopping District kind of way down along King Street - the major shopping street in Alexandria.
The cash registers of the businesses along King Street may not be very full though. It remains to be seen if there is a flurry of buying and spending this holiday season. It may be a cold, long, quiet few weeks in those stores heading into winter. The economic melt down may see to that.
There aren't too many lights on houses yet. I'll be interested to see what downtown Alexandria looks like. The town's light-up night was last Friday and things should be festive and bright in an American Shopping District kind of way down along King Street - the major shopping street in Alexandria.
The cash registers of the businesses along King Street may not be very full though. It remains to be seen if there is a flurry of buying and spending this holiday season. It may be a cold, long, quiet few weeks in those stores heading into winter. The economic melt down may see to that.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Time is Short
I'm being rushed out the door. We're leaving at 8 AM for up north and it's . . . well, you see what time it is below. So, time is short for me to blog. My mind doesn't work well on short time. Mine is a long time mind. My thoughts need time to simmer and percolate before anything understandable or cogent comes out. So, if there are a lot of tipogruphicel erors in tody's blog i apologixe, because I just can't operate this way.
Kooper just ate some of the rolls we are bringing up to Meadville/Franklin for dinner tomorrow (Thanksgiving with family will be a Friday event this year). Kate doesn't know it yet. She's upstairs tea-ing. I imagine she'll come downstairs soon. He ate them while I was typing the words above. I have two choices. I could put the bag with the hole in it and the two out of eight half-eaten rolls back into the shopping bag for the trip north. Then, I wouldn't suffer the ridicule and embarrassment of having enabled Kooper's feast for six or seven more hours (and then be buffered by others being present to laugh along). Or I could just leave the bag out and look sternly at Kooper as Kate comes down the steps as if to say "That Kooper! I just don't know what we can do about that dog!" And maybe preemptively avoid any question of my acquiescence.
I'll go with the first. So if any of you are around Franklin later this afternoon, stop by my Mom's house to help me out. I would be so very thankful. Please. And have a happy Thanksgiving!
Kooper just ate some of the rolls we are bringing up to Meadville/Franklin for dinner tomorrow (Thanksgiving with family will be a Friday event this year). Kate doesn't know it yet. She's upstairs tea-ing. I imagine she'll come downstairs soon. He ate them while I was typing the words above. I have two choices. I could put the bag with the hole in it and the two out of eight half-eaten rolls back into the shopping bag for the trip north. Then, I wouldn't suffer the ridicule and embarrassment of having enabled Kooper's feast for six or seven more hours (and then be buffered by others being present to laugh along). Or I could just leave the bag out and look sternly at Kooper as Kate comes down the steps as if to say "That Kooper! I just don't know what we can do about that dog!" And maybe preemptively avoid any question of my acquiescence.
I'll go with the first. So if any of you are around Franklin later this afternoon, stop by my Mom's house to help me out. I would be so very thankful. Please. And have a happy Thanksgiving!
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Slow Times
Orion the Hunter, the constellation, is in the western sky in the dark mornings when Kooper and I go for our wandering through the neighborhood. That's always a reminder to me that we're officially in winter. This is winding down into a slow time of year when the cold and darkness gently (or sometimes harshly!) nudge us into "hunkering-down-mode." Stay inside. Keep warm. Drink hot tea. Snuggle. Wrap up and read a book (or play World of Warcraft).
Zoe is moving back up north this weekend as we travel to Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving. Michael and Zoe will reunite. It's a black and white thing. Zoe misses all of the black fabric that Michael accumulates - clothes, pillows, throw rugs, blankets, towels. Zoe's white fur goes well in a contrasty sort of way with the black. She's become an indoor cat over these past four months, so her whiteness won't be needed for outdoor sleuthing and stalking in the snow. Michael lives on a busy street anyway in Meadville, so the cars searching for pet and squirrel prey along North Main Street won't have Zoe in their sights. She's put on a bit of weight in the process of staying indoors. Her main exercise has been playing with Lucky.
Lucky will miss her playmate I imagine. She's shy to begin with so I'm guessing we'll see less of Lucky once Zoe isn't here to draw her out to play. She'll hunker down, wrap up, and watch carefully as the bigger animals in the house wander about. I guess it's not a bad activity for these winter months.
Zoe is moving back up north this weekend as we travel to Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving. Michael and Zoe will reunite. It's a black and white thing. Zoe misses all of the black fabric that Michael accumulates - clothes, pillows, throw rugs, blankets, towels. Zoe's white fur goes well in a contrasty sort of way with the black. She's become an indoor cat over these past four months, so her whiteness won't be needed for outdoor sleuthing and stalking in the snow. Michael lives on a busy street anyway in Meadville, so the cars searching for pet and squirrel prey along North Main Street won't have Zoe in their sights. She's put on a bit of weight in the process of staying indoors. Her main exercise has been playing with Lucky.
Lucky will miss her playmate I imagine. She's shy to begin with so I'm guessing we'll see less of Lucky once Zoe isn't here to draw her out to play. She'll hunker down, wrap up, and watch carefully as the bigger animals in the house wander about. I guess it's not a bad activity for these winter months.
Monday, November 24, 2008
House Work
Weekends are working chore times at the house. Vacuuming, watering plants, garbage and recycling (the haulers come early Monday morning). I've noticed that there is less hair around these days than in the summer when the heat must have accelerated the shedding rates. There is Zelda hair concentrated on one of the living room chairs. Lucky hair on the guest room bed cover. Zoe hair on the bedspread covering Michael's bed downstairs. And a bit of Kooper hair on the couch (Yes! He's spoiled!). There is less hair on the top floor than there used to be. That was Lady's territory. Kooper doesn't go that high. He makes it into the kitchen and dining room on the third floor but no higher.
Not only do the pets shed, but so do the plants that have come inside for the winter. They get much less light than they did on the back patio and are rebelling by turning brown at the edges and dropping leaves - large and small - all over the place. Especially the fern. Those small, brown leaves are everywhere. Most notably between the fern's perch in the guest room and the bathroom where it goes to be watered on a weekly basis. Dropping dozens of small, crunchy, brown leaves in the process.
They get vacuumed up then. Along with the pet sheddings. There is still the random Lady hair to be found among the dust bunnies and other detritus. But not so much anymore.
Not only do the pets shed, but so do the plants that have come inside for the winter. They get much less light than they did on the back patio and are rebelling by turning brown at the edges and dropping leaves - large and small - all over the place. Especially the fern. Those small, brown leaves are everywhere. Most notably between the fern's perch in the guest room and the bathroom where it goes to be watered on a weekly basis. Dropping dozens of small, crunchy, brown leaves in the process.
They get vacuumed up then. Along with the pet sheddings. There is still the random Lady hair to be found among the dust bunnies and other detritus. But not so much anymore.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
NSO
We saw and heard the National Symphony Orchestra last night at the Kennedy Center. We walked to the Braddock Road Metro in the wind and cold (real wind and real cold this time!). Took the Metro to Foggy Bottom. Took the Kennedy Center shuttle the few blocks to the Center. Then snuggled into our seats (109 and 110) in row CC.
The NSO came out. Played. And left. The audience sat there. Clapped. And went home. All very civil and correct. Not too real but the movement and applause and music all seemed to come at the right moments and last the right amount of time. It seemed very "going-through-the-motions" like. Like "Okay we're done. Let's move on to the next thing to do." I don't have much to compare it to except for the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra at Heinz Hall. But that seemed more real. In fact (I've said this more than a few times to Kate), Pittsburghers as a whole seem very "real." Authentic. Themselves and comfortable at it. When we went to Heinz Hall last year to see the symphony and the orchestra members came on stage they would wave at and chat with the people in the audience. Audience members would walk up to the stage before the performance and during intermission and afterwards to chat with musicians leaning over the stage edge. There was a sense of community in the audience before the show too. And the audience appreciation was genuine and robust and long and standing. I guess love might be the right word. Real.
I'm always reminded of the part from the Velveteen Rabbit when I think of Pittsburgh and its people. “Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”
The NSO came out. Played. And left. The audience sat there. Clapped. And went home. All very civil and correct. Not too real but the movement and applause and music all seemed to come at the right moments and last the right amount of time. It seemed very "going-through-the-motions" like. Like "Okay we're done. Let's move on to the next thing to do." I don't have much to compare it to except for the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra at Heinz Hall. But that seemed more real. In fact (I've said this more than a few times to Kate), Pittsburghers as a whole seem very "real." Authentic. Themselves and comfortable at it. When we went to Heinz Hall last year to see the symphony and the orchestra members came on stage they would wave at and chat with the people in the audience. Audience members would walk up to the stage before the performance and during intermission and afterwards to chat with musicians leaning over the stage edge. There was a sense of community in the audience before the show too. And the audience appreciation was genuine and robust and long and standing. I guess love might be the right word. Real.
I'm always reminded of the part from the Velveteen Rabbit when I think of Pittsburgh and its people. “Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Let it Snow
I understand that back in northwestern Pennsylvania the first big lake-effect snowfall of the year has blanketed the area. Six or so inches near Lake Erie and over a foot inland. We had snow here a couple of days ago, too. A few flakes danced around in the whirlwinds between the buildings in DC when I was. In the District doing grant research. All of a sudden I looked up from the computer I was sitting at and there it was. Snow. In mid-November! None of it "stuck." I'm not even sure if any of it actually made it to the ground, it was so windy. Maybe the few, tiny flakes just were whipped into a frenzy and swept back up into the clouds.
The few flakes did get people buzzing though about the winter and the possibility of Washington shutting down. People looked at their watches to see if they should catch the Metro home before it closed down due to slick tracks. One person called to his suburban home to see if the "storm" had hit there. When I got back to my office, an email had been sent to everyone reminding them of winter shut-down procedures.
Meanwhile back in real life, I noticed that the number of homeless on the streets of DC seems to be increasing. I would say on average on each block there were about two people bundled up against the cold and wind with their possessions around them for shelter. No office shut-down procedures for them. No worries about catching the train before it stops running.
If senators and congress people or their staff are walking or driving from the Capital down to K Street where the lobbyists work, the homeless are there to remind them of who they represent. Most of the lobbyists trekking up the street the opposite way to the halls of Congress don't lobby on behalf of the homeless and hungry. Some do. A few. But like the DC snowflakes their words don't seem to stick.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Terrible Twos
My two-plus year old cell phone has been throwing tantrums lately. Not holding a charge all day long. Cutting out during crucial calls with Michael about his motherboard. Refusing to charge in a timely manner. So I got a new battery. Extra life sized! I got it very quickly and easily through an on-line store that specializes in Motorola cell phones. Talk about a niche. The only trouble is the extra life sized battery is extra thick and it sticks out beyond where the tiny back door to the phone would normally sit. So, back on line I went last night. I need a super-sized back door (or battery cover as they so cleverly call it). It's ordered now. Should be here Friday. I should have known that a super-sized battery would need an XXX sized hatch.
My cell phone is Microsoft based and this computer I'm blogging on is an Apple. The two don't speak. They don't even try. I guess if my phone were newer they would at least try to communicate with each other. But two year-old phones don't know the Apple language. They don't talk the same talk. So my calendar on the computer is almost empty but the one on my phone (that I almost always have with me) is filled with everything I need to remember to do. Like a brain memory expansion pack but only more reliable. Until the battery starts to fizzle.
Now if you want to call me on my cell phone you can. It rings (actually it vibrates because that's the best way for me to "hear" it). It rings when it reminds me that it's almost time to do something I should remember to do. And if I hold it gingerly the battery on steroids won't fall out.
I figure if it lasts two more years by late 2010 maybe some new technology will surface and I won't even need a new battery again. Or a new cell phone at all. Maybe by then Macs and PCs will be able to speak and understand each other, and Democrats and Republicans will hug in the aisles of the Capital Building, and we all will have forgiven George Bush.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Shooting Star
It's very cold here this morning (around 30 . . . that's "cold" for here). The fronts that have swept through over the past few days have cleared out any lingering thoughts of Indian Summer or any hints of fallishness. They cleared out the skies, too. Any pockets of haze or patches of fog or blankets of pollution are long gone. Out to sea.
Kate is somewhere northwest of here. Studying with some other ministers about the hot sociological and theological topics of the day. It's snowing where she is. In the mountains of Virginia/West Virginia/Maryland. Out that way. Yonder.
Here (hither) it was very clear last night when Kooper and I went for our late night romp through the streets of Old Town. And brisk, too. I tried to keep Kooper moving beyond his typical stop and sniff saunter. Just so I could keep a bit warm. He would have none of that. Fur is a great insulator I guess. Humanity's loss. But Kooper's slow gait meant at last I lifted my head up to look at the clear sky. And the stars. Very clear and dark and crisp. A very starry night. Not the kind of darkness and starriness you get in north central Pennsylvania or in the Adirondack Mountains, but plenty dark enough to see more than the usual bright constellations.
It just so happens that at one of Kooper's especially long ground snuffling spots as I was looking up I saw the briefest flare of a shooting star. Glowing ever brighter for the fleetest of moments and then flaring out just as quickly. On a straight path from somewhere to nowhere. To oblivion. Galaxy dust.
It reminds me of the words the priests say on Ash Wednesday during the Catholic ritual of marking people's foreheads with ashes made from last year's Palm Sunday palms. "Remember that you are dust. And unto dust you shall return."
Not a bad thing to remember once in awhile. As Cat Stevens sang, we're "only dancing on this earth for a short while." Objects in space. Like a shooting star.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
A Big Wind
Two windy cold fronts blew through yesterday, as promised. One in the late afternoon and one last night. It's much colder today and feels more Fall-like than was yesterday's Summer reprise. This morning during Kooper's and my walk through the neighborhood there were flags down and plant pots blown over and leaves bundled up into corners where they ended up when the winds finally stopped. Cowering from the blasts. All huddled together.
Last night Kate and I walked downtown (as in Old Town Alexandria) and had fish and chips and beer (me) and shrimp and hard cider (Kate) at Murphy's Grand Irish Pub on King Street. Good food. Nice pub-like atmosphere (they even have pub trivia in their upstairs room each Tuesday!). Music started about 8:30 or so but by then we were in our seats at the local theater watching the new James Bond movie. Not one of the better James Bond movies. I won't spoil the plot because there isn't one. Just bouncing from one action scene to the next. One tense confrontation to the next. No thread to tie it all together. But the theater was packed and I'm sure the movie will make mega-millions.
The Old Town Theater is quaint. It's privately owned. You queue up and buy your ticket. You're also obligated to buy a drink with your ticket (call it a cover charge). I got another beer. I ordered a hot dog, too. They bring the cooked food, of which there is a good variety, to your seat after the movie starts. The way it works is, you find your seat and then write the seat number on the food receipt. You give them the receipt back. Then they cook the food and deliver it right to you during the show! The owner comes into the theater if things are running late (like last night when people were still lined up for the show at the scheduled start time). He announces how things are going and when the show should start and reminds us all that about now you'd be seeing advertisements and previews at the cineplex. Not here. Here you can talk to your friends and neighbors. Then just the movie.
Afterwards we walked home. Between the cold fronts. Still warm then. The wind picked up later as the second front went through. We had to take down the wind chimes in the patio. They were singing so hard in the wind. Happy to be free and doing what they are meant to be doing I guess. Maybe that's the definition of freedom. Doing what you're meant to be doing. Being who you are meant to be. Like the wind. Like the chimes.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
From the West
We have a stack of wood out back on the patio - the "back forty" I guess you could say (forty square feet). It's a nice and dry and somewhat smallish pile. We have two fireplaces in the house - one in the living room and one right above the living room. In the kitchen. The wood wouldn't last very long in a continuous burn. Maybe a day or two. But it will be nice for "atmosphere" over a few evenings during the late fall or winter. Not today though. Today it should be in the mid-60s. In fact I was surprised how warm it was this morning when I stepped out the door onto Abingdon Drive to walk with Kooper. Good day for football. Although it rained last night and more is coming later today from the west. Over the mountains.
That's where the wood came from we were told by its seller. The mountains of Virginia.
Every night a train comes along the railroad tracks about a quarter of a mile north of the house. The train brings something from the mountains, too - coal. It pulls up next to a power plant located along the Potomac River. It unloads its coal and then goes back west. Empty. To be refilled for the next trip on the next night.
The coal comes from the mountains of West Virginia. Past the Virginia Blue Ridge. There are fewer and fewer mountains in West Virginia these days. Mountaintop mining is seeing to that. An easy, cheap way to mine coal. An easy, cheap way to run the computers and light the lights and heat the houses and power the bureaucracies of the Washington, DC metropolitan area.
That is what the train brings every day. In the dark of the night. When our lights are burning. Its hauls in the mountain from West Virginia. Then the mountains go up in smoke the next day.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Notes from the Bus Stop
Huntington Metro Station North Bus Circle
The man who works at the hospital kitchen had a bad day at work yesterday. People yelling. Arguments. Overcrowded and nerves on edge. His way of putting it was "the devil had a field day!" I said it could have been the full moon. We laughed.
The woman who gets off at the elementary school each morning and who always wears a slight smile on her face stopped at the bottom of the Metro escalator stairs up to the bus stop to let people more in a hurry pass. It's single width and she rides it up. No walking. Others like to walk up the escalator. Or run.
The spanish speaking woman always carries a pink plastic rosary in her left hand as she gets on the bus each day.
The guy with the Baltimore Orioles hat usually says hello or nods or grunts something nice. We spoke one morning about weather and football and baseball. But not too much since.
One woman avoids me. She doesn't talk to me or answer when I say hi. She sits in the opposite side of the bus stop shelter. Divided by plexiglass. Safe. I take the 161 bus and she the 162. Maybe that's the reason we don't relate.
The man who works at the hospital kitchen had a bad day at work yesterday. People yelling. Arguments. Overcrowded and nerves on edge. His way of putting it was "the devil had a field day!" I said it could have been the full moon. We laughed.
The woman who gets off at the elementary school each morning and who always wears a slight smile on her face stopped at the bottom of the Metro escalator stairs up to the bus stop to let people more in a hurry pass. It's single width and she rides it up. No walking. Others like to walk up the escalator. Or run.
The spanish speaking woman always carries a pink plastic rosary in her left hand as she gets on the bus each day.
The guy with the Baltimore Orioles hat usually says hello or nods or grunts something nice. We spoke one morning about weather and football and baseball. But not too much since.
One woman avoids me. She doesn't talk to me or answer when I say hi. She sits in the opposite side of the bus stop shelter. Divided by plexiglass. Safe. I take the 161 bus and she the 162. Maybe that's the reason we don't relate.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Warcraft
I'm very tired this morning. It's of my own doing, though. Last night at 11:30 I drove a few miles west of here down Duke Street to the GameStop store and waited until midnight with a couple hundred other people . . . all shapes and sizes and ages . . . for the release of the newest addition to World of Warcraft. That (for the uninitiated) is an on-line massively multiplayer game where you travel around various continents and lands completing quests, fighting enemies and gathering all-the-while gold and better and better weapons and armament (so that you and your on-line friends can advance to the next (and more challenging) land.
It was important, you see, that I went last night because yesterday, after months of slogging my way through the game's worlds, I reached "Level 70" - the highest level of achievement attainable! Last night's add-on allows the exploration of new worlds and quests - and you can now go up to Level 80!
So then I came back to the house, loaded the game, and played until 3 AM or so (there were a couple of walks with Kooper sandwiched in there, too). Michael (as in one of my sons) was there too. Not here. There. In the same brave new world as I was. Helping me advance and fight and kill and plunder booty and complete quests. He gave up and went to bed before me, though. There were others in our "realm" playing though. Some with the Alliance. Some, like me, with the Horde.
So this morning I'm tired. War is hell.
It was important, you see, that I went last night because yesterday, after months of slogging my way through the game's worlds, I reached "Level 70" - the highest level of achievement attainable! Last night's add-on allows the exploration of new worlds and quests - and you can now go up to Level 80!
So then I came back to the house, loaded the game, and played until 3 AM or so (there were a couple of walks with Kooper sandwiched in there, too). Michael (as in one of my sons) was there too. Not here. There. In the same brave new world as I was. Helping me advance and fight and kill and plunder booty and complete quests. He gave up and went to bed before me, though. There were others in our "realm" playing though. Some with the Alliance. Some, like me, with the Horde.
So this morning I'm tired. War is hell.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Veterans Day
Veterans Day. Heavy frost last night and even now - at 8:20 AM - it's in the low thirties. I noticed over the weekend that more than half the leaves have fallen to the ground. There are still a lot on the branches but most are down. Washed out oranges and burnt browns predominate the foliage colors. Some greens still. Some yellows. Not too much red. Even the pine are shedding about half of their leaves - needles. They do that every year, too. Despite their call to being "evergreen." If you look closely you can see many yellow pine needles on the limbs and many more on the ground beneath.
A lot of veterans have fallen over the years, too. Probably not half of those who served, but plenty enough. The Fall is a good time to have placed Veterans Day. To remember the fallen. Whether the wars were wise or foolish. Whether the soldiers enlisted or were drafted. Whether the fatal fire was friendly or designed to kill. Those aren't the point. The point is . . . the reason we have a Veterans Day is . . . some friends and lovers and neighbors of ours died. And we want to remember. Counting ourselves luckily among the alive still.
Korean War Memorial in the Fall
It would be nice if no one else had to hastily rush toward death for the benefit of stoking or easing the diatribe of the day. It would be nice to enjoy Fall for the season that it is without the extra fallen to remember.
A lot of veterans have fallen over the years, too. Probably not half of those who served, but plenty enough. The Fall is a good time to have placed Veterans Day. To remember the fallen. Whether the wars were wise or foolish. Whether the soldiers enlisted or were drafted. Whether the fatal fire was friendly or designed to kill. Those aren't the point. The point is . . . the reason we have a Veterans Day is . . . some friends and lovers and neighbors of ours died. And we want to remember. Counting ourselves luckily among the alive still.
Korean War Memorial in the Fall
It would be nice if no one else had to hastily rush toward death for the benefit of stoking or easing the diatribe of the day. It would be nice to enjoy Fall for the season that it is without the extra fallen to remember.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Mi Casa es Tu Casa
Inauguration Day 2009 is setting up to be very crowded down this way! Already, people are scrambling for tickets for the event. Congressional office phone lines are burning up. Hotels are being inundated with calls. Airline reservations are up over 200% for this far out from "normal" times. And police are estimating record numbers of attendees for the historic event. If things are as clogged as people are anticipating, it might be best to walk the five miles or so from our house to the Capitol Building.
Inauguration Day and the day before (Martin Luther King Jr. Day - isn't that ironic) are both Federal holidays, so that glut of people who normally flow into and out of the District and nearby lands won't. Whether they flow into the District for the inauguration is another question.
Okay. Well to the point of today's blog. If you're inclined to see history first hand let us know. We have extra bed space for four. We have couch space for one (or two closely connected). We have floor (as in sleeping bag . . . as in backpacking) space for a good half dozen or so more.
I watered the plants in the house yesterday. It was the first time they were watered since we moved them indoors from the back patio for the "Winter." I have yet to see evidence that there really is a Winter here. But I'll stop watering the plants if needed . . . if we have an overabundance of guests coming in. If space is at a premium. I'll stop watering a few so there would be some more room for visitors by January 20.
Inauguration Day and the day before (Martin Luther King Jr. Day - isn't that ironic) are both Federal holidays, so that glut of people who normally flow into and out of the District and nearby lands won't. Whether they flow into the District for the inauguration is another question.
Okay. Well to the point of today's blog. If you're inclined to see history first hand let us know. We have extra bed space for four. We have couch space for one (or two closely connected). We have floor (as in sleeping bag . . . as in backpacking) space for a good half dozen or so more.
I watered the plants in the house yesterday. It was the first time they were watered since we moved them indoors from the back patio for the "Winter." I have yet to see evidence that there really is a Winter here. But I'll stop watering the plants if needed . . . if we have an overabundance of guests coming in. If space is at a premium. I'll stop watering a few so there would be some more room for visitors by January 20.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Weird
It was a bit strange last night . . . weird, in fact (I thought it was always supposed to be "'i' before 'e' except after 'c'?"). Last night when Kooper and I went for our midnight walk I was out in sandals strolling around the block. I didn't need to but I put a light jacket on. More because it was November 7 than anything else. I mean in November you should at least be wearing a jacket. But it was nearly 60 and almost balmy.
It was quiet, too. No planes take off from Reagan National at that time of night. Few cars zip down or up the George Washington Parkway. No leaf blowers. Just the rare bus still on its late night run. The random driver coming home from a night out. The other person now and then oddly out in their sandals and jacket walking their dog, too.
It's the same in the mornings when I walk the dog. Quiet. Few cars and even fewer people. The only time I ever noticed a change in that quiet pattern was last Tuesday morning. That morning it dawned on me gradually that Tuesday was going to be a special day when, as Kooper and I were respectively sniffing and stumbling our way through the neighborhood, others - a lot of "others" in fact - were out too. Walking. No dogs. Just walking. And no matter where we were in the neighborhood (Kooper and I) the people were all walking slowly and resolutely toward the same general spot - the southwest corner of Second and Powhatan Streets. The Alexandria Fire Station. One of two voting locations in the City of Alexandria. Like zombies almost but most definitely alive.
Since Tuesday night there has been an almost palpable aliveness in the country as well. At least the parts that I can see.
Weird.
It was quiet, too. No planes take off from Reagan National at that time of night. Few cars zip down or up the George Washington Parkway. No leaf blowers. Just the rare bus still on its late night run. The random driver coming home from a night out. The other person now and then oddly out in their sandals and jacket walking their dog, too.
It's the same in the mornings when I walk the dog. Quiet. Few cars and even fewer people. The only time I ever noticed a change in that quiet pattern was last Tuesday morning. That morning it dawned on me gradually that Tuesday was going to be a special day when, as Kooper and I were respectively sniffing and stumbling our way through the neighborhood, others - a lot of "others" in fact - were out too. Walking. No dogs. Just walking. And no matter where we were in the neighborhood (Kooper and I) the people were all walking slowly and resolutely toward the same general spot - the southwest corner of Second and Powhatan Streets. The Alexandria Fire Station. One of two voting locations in the City of Alexandria. Like zombies almost but most definitely alive.
Since Tuesday night there has been an almost palpable aliveness in the country as well. At least the parts that I can see.
Weird.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Lost
I went the other way yesterday. With the flow. Downstream into Washington DC for the day. I walked to the Metro. Squeezed into an already-filled train car. Headed north. I learned how to prepare a fundraising plan.
An awful lot of people were swept into DC with me. Must have been that vacuum that I mentioned before. In fact, as the Blue Line Metro enters the tunnel under the Potomac River as it crosses into the District, you can feel the pressure change in your ears. As it pulls air along with it into the dark.
Then we ascended on the other side into Foggy Bottom - a neighborhood in DC named for the smoke that industry along the north side of the Potomac used to belch out. Now it's condos and universities and offices. Cars, busses and patrons of restaurants are the only things that belch now. But it's still Foggy Bottom.
Then it was on to K Street, where my training was. The Foundation Center. A small office squeezed in among the lobbyist's offices just a couple of blocks north of Lafayette Park and the White House. I walked there during lunch. Through the Park. To the gates of the White House.
I was vaguely aware of a woman who was walking the couple of blocks along the way with me. Not so much "with" as along. Stopped at the same lights. Walking between K and I Streets (there was no J Street) on the same sidewalk. On the same side of the street. Not quite at the same pace but the traffic and lights are the great equalizers.
As we got to I Street and crossed into Lafayette Park. I stopped and so did she. "Excuse me," she said (twice I think, because I didn't quite hear the first time), "I'm lost. Do you know where the White House is?" "Well," I answered, "I'm new to the area but I think it's right there," pointing through some trees in the Park to the north portico of the Bush house.
The North Portico
George Bush probably feels a bit lost, too, right now. It must be hard to be a lame duck. On the way out. Housesitting. Country-sitting. Especially hard to do when two-thirds of the people you wanted to lead don't think you should be there anyway.
An awful lot of people were swept into DC with me. Must have been that vacuum that I mentioned before. In fact, as the Blue Line Metro enters the tunnel under the Potomac River as it crosses into the District, you can feel the pressure change in your ears. As it pulls air along with it into the dark.
Then we ascended on the other side into Foggy Bottom - a neighborhood in DC named for the smoke that industry along the north side of the Potomac used to belch out. Now it's condos and universities and offices. Cars, busses and patrons of restaurants are the only things that belch now. But it's still Foggy Bottom.
Then it was on to K Street, where my training was. The Foundation Center. A small office squeezed in among the lobbyist's offices just a couple of blocks north of Lafayette Park and the White House. I walked there during lunch. Through the Park. To the gates of the White House.
I was vaguely aware of a woman who was walking the couple of blocks along the way with me. Not so much "with" as along. Stopped at the same lights. Walking between K and I Streets (there was no J Street) on the same sidewalk. On the same side of the street. Not quite at the same pace but the traffic and lights are the great equalizers.
As we got to I Street and crossed into Lafayette Park. I stopped and so did she. "Excuse me," she said (twice I think, because I didn't quite hear the first time), "I'm lost. Do you know where the White House is?" "Well," I answered, "I'm new to the area but I think it's right there," pointing through some trees in the Park to the north portico of the Bush house.
The North Portico
George Bush probably feels a bit lost, too, right now. It must be hard to be a lame duck. On the way out. Housesitting. Country-sitting. Especially hard to do when two-thirds of the people you wanted to lead don't think you should be there anyway.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Washington Abhors a Vacuum
Another cloudy, muted Fall morning. It seems just as much as October was bright blue and sunny, November has been grey and damp. That's good, right? It was to dry here for the first two months we moved in. Now it's not too, too wet, but certainly less crunchy. The leaves don't crunch. The twigs fallen on the ground bend but don't snap, and the worms on the sidewalks are alive and not mummified.
It's hard to believe it's Thursday already. The excitement of election day seemed to blur together Monuesednsday into one long smear. The daily cycle is settling back down now a bit as we transition into deep Fall and others transition in and out of Washington DC offices. The guessing game and the name dropping are the next chapter in the DC electoral ring cycle that repeats itself every two or four years (depending how attuned you are to political chattering).
I assume the Obama transition team has a plan and will stick to it. It's their way. I imagine there will be quite a few emptying houses and apartments in the region over the next couple of months. But the vacuum will be quickly filled.
It's hard to believe it's Thursday already. The excitement of election day seemed to blur together Monuesednsday into one long smear. The daily cycle is settling back down now a bit as we transition into deep Fall and others transition in and out of Washington DC offices. The guessing game and the name dropping are the next chapter in the DC electoral ring cycle that repeats itself every two or four years (depending how attuned you are to political chattering).
I assume the Obama transition team has a plan and will stick to it. It's their way. I imagine there will be quite a few emptying houses and apartments in the region over the next couple of months. But the vacuum will be quickly filled.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Vox populi
Carmen died.
She sang her heart out, poor woman, but she still died anyway. I would have voted that she live had I been given a vote. We saw Carmen die in a center for the performing arts named after John F. Kennedy. In the end, he died because he wanted to become President, and because enough (just enough!) people voted for him . . . not to die, but to become President. I was 12 when Kennedy (John) died, but if I could I would vote him back if he wanted the job again. Or even Robert - especially Robert - if he could give it another shot. Maybe that's why I voted for Barack Obama.
One of the nice and interesting things about living around Washington, DC is that you don't need mass media to tell you what's happening politically. Last night after Carmen died and I was walking Kooper around the block, at about 10:50 or so, all of a sudden out of the dark and quiet Kooper and I heard a "whoop" sound coming from a townhouse on Portner, followed in quick succession by "yes!" and "Yay!" and other and growing loud cheers of victory from the apartments around the corner on Bashford. Then pots and pans were being banged. Then car horns tooted their approval . . . the voice of the people. Kooper didn't understand what all the noise meant, but it was obvious . . . in January, if all goes according to plan, we'll have a new leader. Actually, it will be the first leader we've had in awhile when you think of it.
I hope Barack Obama doesn't die for a very long time. That's my vote anyway, if I have a voice in that one.
She sang her heart out, poor woman, but she still died anyway. I would have voted that she live had I been given a vote. We saw Carmen die in a center for the performing arts named after John F. Kennedy. In the end, he died because he wanted to become President, and because enough (just enough!) people voted for him . . . not to die, but to become President. I was 12 when Kennedy (John) died, but if I could I would vote him back if he wanted the job again. Or even Robert - especially Robert - if he could give it another shot. Maybe that's why I voted for Barack Obama.
One of the nice and interesting things about living around Washington, DC is that you don't need mass media to tell you what's happening politically. Last night after Carmen died and I was walking Kooper around the block, at about 10:50 or so, all of a sudden out of the dark and quiet Kooper and I heard a "whoop" sound coming from a townhouse on Portner, followed in quick succession by "yes!" and "Yay!" and other and growing loud cheers of victory from the apartments around the corner on Bashford. Then pots and pans were being banged. Then car horns tooted their approval . . . the voice of the people. Kooper didn't understand what all the noise meant, but it was obvious . . . in January, if all goes according to plan, we'll have a new leader. Actually, it will be the first leader we've had in awhile when you think of it.
I hope Barack Obama doesn't die for a very long time. That's my vote anyway, if I have a voice in that one.
Monday, November 3, 2008
One More Day
One day more until the election of 2008! Kate and I will be sitting inside the Kennedy Center taking in Bizet's Carmen while the votes roll in (they start at 7 PM . . . the vote rolling and Carmen both). But we should be back to the house about the time things really start to firm up (that is . . . by about 10 or 11 at night - when we return to TV's pundits and pollsters - there should be an indication of who's winning).
For those of us who need a political fix, there is a new "widget" on the blog this morning. It's a part of the Washington Post online that I really like: Chris Cillizza's "The Fix." You sometimes see Chris on MSNBC's Countdown, too. It's very interactive in a new media kind of way and you can even video blog back in response to some of The Fix's pieces to express your opinions.
Wacky fun!
Carmen dies in the end, by-the-way . . . very sad.
For those of us who need a political fix, there is a new "widget" on the blog this morning. It's a part of the Washington Post online that I really like: Chris Cillizza's "The Fix." You sometimes see Chris on MSNBC's Countdown, too. It's very interactive in a new media kind of way and you can even video blog back in response to some of The Fix's pieces to express your opinions.
Wacky fun!
Carmen dies in the end, by-the-way . . . very sad.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
All Soul's Day
The day after the Catholic feast of All Saints (November 1) is All Souls Day (November 2). That's today, and it also happens to be when I was born! This particular All Souls Day is cloudier and more Fall-like than All Saints Day was. Yesterday was just gorgeous. Today, it's dropped down into the 50s and feels more seasonable. Still nice though. "Good football weather," as "they" say.
I don't know who "they" are. Maybe one of the souls or saints we commemorate over these two days.
I don't know who "they" are. Maybe one of the souls or saints we commemorate over these two days.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
It's a Goal!!!!!
It's shaping up to be a wonderful Fall weekend - sunny, in the 60's during the day and clear but not too cold at night. We'll have some visitors from up north way (Pat and Jen) in later today. Should be a great end to the week. Kooper and I have already had a nice long walk just before sunrise (the sky was just slightly turning purple in the east as we reached the house).
My goal for the weekend is to have none . . . just soak it in. I'll be a sponge! I should have thought of that last night for Halloween! Kate and I walked down to South Lee Street in Alexandria last night to soak in a local tradition. The street was blocked off for about six or seven blocks and was packed (comfortably packed) from end to end and side to side with Halloween revelers of all shapes and ages and sizes . . . many disguised . . . some (like us) not. The houses (historic townhouses down in that end of town) were all open and people had their places all decorated and were handing out treats. It was quite an event! We saw politicians like Cheney, Obama and McCain, Pumkinheadman, a coffin stroller with three children aboard, banana people, dogs in various attire, pirates, colonials, all sorts of oddities! Next year we'll have to go as someone else.
Here are some of the Lee Streeters . . .
My goal for the weekend is to have none . . . just soak it in. I'll be a sponge! I should have thought of that last night for Halloween! Kate and I walked down to South Lee Street in Alexandria last night to soak in a local tradition. The street was blocked off for about six or seven blocks and was packed (comfortably packed) from end to end and side to side with Halloween revelers of all shapes and ages and sizes . . . many disguised . . . some (like us) not. The houses (historic townhouses down in that end of town) were all open and people had their places all decorated and were handing out treats. It was quite an event! We saw politicians like Cheney, Obama and McCain, Pumkinheadman, a coffin stroller with three children aboard, banana people, dogs in various attire, pirates, colonials, all sorts of oddities! Next year we'll have to go as someone else.
Here are some of the Lee Streeters . . .
Friday, October 31, 2008
For the Common Wealth
It's interesting to see that my two states, the Commonwealths of Virginia and Pennsylvania, are key to this year's presidential election. I notice that Ed Rendell has asked Bill Clinton to crisscross western Pennsylvania to try to shore up votes for Obama. And we have seen our share of politicos down our way, too. Northern Virginia, where we are, is typically more liberal and votes democratic in national elections. But go south and west and you're into the bible belt, where conservatism reigns and republicans more often than not hold sway. That's not unlike Pennsylvania, where the coal region, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh and Erie are more progressive than the rural landscapes.
I remember vividly several years ago I was travelling along Pennsylvania Route 74 in the Cumberland Valley between South Mountain in the Blue Ridge chain and Blue Mountain – the beginnings of the ridge and valley section of Pennsylvania (that extends south into Virginia and the Carolinas). If any is, that area is the epitome of rural, conservative, traditional, red state America. And I was struck all of a sudden with the realization that the farms and small villages and the back roads and pastures and woodlands and people in that valley practically ooze the unspoken message of conservation – the message that these people connect with and hold the land dearly to their hearts, and that they want so much to be able to pass those lands and waters and natural areas on to their children and children’s children. That landscape and those people silently scream out the message of connections . . . connections with the land and water, connections in this time and place with each other, and connections through time with past and future generations.
Perhaps they are holding on too hard-so hard they can't open their arms to the strange and new. And maybe they are grasping at the past out of a fear of a future that is largely unknown. But, at the same time, all too often we miss their message that speaks so loudly of conservation and of connections, as we are busy writing and typing and speaking and instant messaging - trying to explain ourselves – not listening at all. It’s time, I would offer, that we all listen attentively to our rural neighbors whose lives convey a message of care for the common wealth.
Sunset Over Blue Mountain
I remember vividly several years ago I was travelling along Pennsylvania Route 74 in the Cumberland Valley between South Mountain in the Blue Ridge chain and Blue Mountain – the beginnings of the ridge and valley section of Pennsylvania (that extends south into Virginia and the Carolinas). If any is, that area is the epitome of rural, conservative, traditional, red state America. And I was struck all of a sudden with the realization that the farms and small villages and the back roads and pastures and woodlands and people in that valley practically ooze the unspoken message of conservation – the message that these people connect with and hold the land dearly to their hearts, and that they want so much to be able to pass those lands and waters and natural areas on to their children and children’s children. That landscape and those people silently scream out the message of connections . . . connections with the land and water, connections in this time and place with each other, and connections through time with past and future generations.
Perhaps they are holding on too hard-so hard they can't open their arms to the strange and new. And maybe they are grasping at the past out of a fear of a future that is largely unknown. But, at the same time, all too often we miss their message that speaks so loudly of conservation and of connections, as we are busy writing and typing and speaking and instant messaging - trying to explain ourselves – not listening at all. It’s time, I would offer, that we all listen attentively to our rural neighbors whose lives convey a message of care for the common wealth.
Sunset Over Blue Mountain
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Falling
It's a sunny, model Fall morning today. Blue sky. A bit crisp but no frost. We haven't had a frost yet, although I hear the suburbs have. And the leaves are finally starting to show some colors beside green and brown. There are reds and oranges and yellows poking through. Not much. And certainly not vibrant. But there to announce the changing times anyway.
All life is changing. Lady is slowing down more and more and is just about completely blind. I think in the brightness of mid-day she can see shadows and has some sense of light and dark outside. But besides that it's all up to her nose now. She sleeps a lot but her appetite is fine and she still likes our walks (very slow these days) together. I take more walks now. One or two with Kooper for every one with Lady.
All life is changing. Lady is slowing down more and more and is just about completely blind. I think in the brightness of mid-day she can see shadows and has some sense of light and dark outside. But besides that it's all up to her nose now. She sleeps a lot but her appetite is fine and she still likes our walks (very slow these days) together. I take more walks now. One or two with Kooper for every one with Lady.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Commitments
This is Oblate commitment weekend at Mount Saint Benedict in Erie, PA. I'm not there this year but sent in my paper indicating I'm still committed (or, maybe, should be committed!). I miss the Community. Here is what I would have said at the Commitment Ceremony this evening, were I there:
Blest by God and this community /
we enter into a year of commitment /
with joy and expectation. /
We are empowered by the love of God /
to live more deeply /
the way of the Gospel /
and the Rule of Benedict. /
We understand the mutuality /
of our commitment /
with this community /
and we respond with trust and love. /
This relationship is grounded in hope; /
hope for the transformation of each other /
and ultimately /
the transformation of the world. /
I'll say it in my heart.
Blest by God and this community /we enter into a year of commitment /
with joy and expectation. /
We are empowered by the love of God /
to live more deeply /
the way of the Gospel /
and the Rule of Benedict. /
We understand the mutuality /
of our commitment /
with this community /
and we respond with trust and love. /
This relationship is grounded in hope; /
hope for the transformation of each other /
and ultimately /
the transformation of the world. /
I'll say it in my heart.
Nature's Signs
I have always - well okay sometimes - been attuned to the signals that Nature sends us. As in this morning. As I was just walking Kooper (Lady is still asleep). You can smell the Fall around as the drizzled-on brown leaves on the ground give off their mustiness for the first time. It rained overnight. That, and the fine mist falling now, are the first real rains we've had in a couple of weeks it seems. The wind has shifted, too. It's out of the south now. I don't need to see the leaves rustling or the flags fluttering or the grass tilting in the wind to tell.
Nature's signs once more whisper to me . . . indicating the direction of her breezes: the jets from Ronald Reagan National Airport are taking off toward the south this morning . . . into the wind.
Nature's signs once more whisper to me . . . indicating the direction of her breezes: the jets from Ronald Reagan National Airport are taking off toward the south this morning . . . into the wind.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Daily Tides
Every morning there is a huge rush of humanity north from Alexandria and points south into Washington, DC. Then in the evening there is an equally huge exodus of peoplehood southward. The constant thrum of cars on George Washington Parkway in front of our house accompanies the back and forth. It's like a people tidal surge with the tide rushing in between 5:30 and 9 AM, and surging back out again from around 3 PM until 8 or so.
The same thing happens on the bike trail and on the busses and on the Metros: packed going into DC in the morning. Filled coming out of the District each night. The promise of power that Washington holds out to the human soul is enticing, and we follow the flame like moths to the fire all too easily.
When we first moved here I have to admit I was drawn to the "power" that Washington, DC offered. I really wanted a job in one of those bright halls of power. I got a thrill thinking of walking into the halls and offices of the Capital building or trying to influence Administration policy or even maybe working for a Senator or Congressperson. I tried. I must have sent in over 100 letters and resumes and had quite a number of interviews.
Now in the morning I go south into southern Fairfax County. There are rich, powerful people who live in Fairfax County. It's one of the richest (per capita income wise) counties in the U.S. But most of those rich people are swept up by the northerly tide each day. Drawn by the flame. That leaves a lot of poor people here who need help. That's where I go each day now . . . against the tide . . . in a nearly empty Metro rail car . . . in a very roomy bus . . . down rail lines and streets where the traffic is almost absent. Away from the power center . . . toward the not-so-powerful. And then back north again at the end of the day along an equally vacant path. Against the surge of people rushing to their homes from their centers of power. . . rushing past me slowly moving north. . . rushing past the poor who have been there all day long.
And at night . . . when I can look north up George Washington Parkway right at the Washington Monument shining bright in the floodlights four miles ahead . . . I'm still drawn.
The same thing happens on the bike trail and on the busses and on the Metros: packed going into DC in the morning. Filled coming out of the District each night. The promise of power that Washington holds out to the human soul is enticing, and we follow the flame like moths to the fire all too easily.
When we first moved here I have to admit I was drawn to the "power" that Washington, DC offered. I really wanted a job in one of those bright halls of power. I got a thrill thinking of walking into the halls and offices of the Capital building or trying to influence Administration policy or even maybe working for a Senator or Congressperson. I tried. I must have sent in over 100 letters and resumes and had quite a number of interviews.
Now in the morning I go south into southern Fairfax County. There are rich, powerful people who live in Fairfax County. It's one of the richest (per capita income wise) counties in the U.S. But most of those rich people are swept up by the northerly tide each day. Drawn by the flame. That leaves a lot of poor people here who need help. That's where I go each day now . . . against the tide . . . in a nearly empty Metro rail car . . . in a very roomy bus . . . down rail lines and streets where the traffic is almost absent. Away from the power center . . . toward the not-so-powerful. And then back north again at the end of the day along an equally vacant path. Against the surge of people rushing to their homes from their centers of power. . . rushing past me slowly moving north. . . rushing past the poor who have been there all day long.
And at night . . . when I can look north up George Washington Parkway right at the Washington Monument shining bright in the floodlights four miles ahead . . . I'm still drawn.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Slow
The darkness creeping in during the fall tends to slow things down. The dogs were slower this morning on our walk . . . a lot of things to sniff. Plus, when you can't see so far ahead of where you are, I think you tend to take tinier steps in getting to where you aren't.
Yesterday, I took tiny steps at work as I continue to get a sense of what the world of fundraising and communications is in general and specifically at the agency where I am asked to do those things. That world (where I am at least) is a mess. I need to step back and come up with a plan to put things in order. It's all reactionary now . . . no plan . . . just going (rushing) from here to there . . . taking big steps (even in the dark!). That can be dangerous when there are things in the dark that might go bump with you!
So, it's time to destroy the status quo as Dr. Horrible would say, because "the status is not quo." We'll see how my plan to plan goes over. People ("us") don't tend to like changes. And that goes for the institutions we constitute, as well.
Yesterday, I took tiny steps at work as I continue to get a sense of what the world of fundraising and communications is in general and specifically at the agency where I am asked to do those things. That world (where I am at least) is a mess. I need to step back and come up with a plan to put things in order. It's all reactionary now . . . no plan . . . just going (rushing) from here to there . . . taking big steps (even in the dark!). That can be dangerous when there are things in the dark that might go bump with you!
So, it's time to destroy the status quo as Dr. Horrible would say, because "the status is not quo." We'll see how my plan to plan goes over. People ("us") don't tend to like changes. And that goes for the institutions we constitute, as well.
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