Monday, December 24, 2007
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Saturday, December 22, 2007
What I'm Watching #121
I had no memory of this story.
It's based on a real event.
It's Quebequois in production, and French/English in dialogue.
When it began it's resolution of the story over an hour into the film, the facts behind the mystery were so horrific that I screamed out "NO!" and stopped the DVD. Like when the captive African pushed herself off the ship with her infant in her arms in "Amistad," I had seen enough.
It's a great little movie. I hope to someday finish it.
It's based on a real event.
It's Quebequois in production, and French/English in dialogue.
When it began it's resolution of the story over an hour into the film, the facts behind the mystery were so horrific that I screamed out "NO!" and stopped the DVD. Like when the captive African pushed herself off the ship with her infant in her arms in "Amistad," I had seen enough.
It's a great little movie. I hope to someday finish it.
We Three Kings Of TV Are.....
Well it seems that in this day of instant everything, and use everything to make a buck, and Christmas is the season of using everything to make instant bucks -- there is an exception. Christmas specials made for TV hit their zenith in the year that I turned five! The troika has been established -- the greedy need apply elsewhere.
It all began in 1964 with "Rudolf The Red Nosed Reindeer." It was stop action animation directed by the Japanese Kizo Nagashima (bet you didn't know that!) It stunned audiences with a talking snowman who as narrator stood both within and without of the story -- an innovation that we today take for granted (and reached it's apex in Stephen Sondheim's "Into The Woods".). The models for show were quickly relegated to the prop room after the production. Rudolf was eventually purchased at an auction and used as a centerpiece for a candy dish by an up-state New York family for years; Cornelius Klondike was "melted down"..... All of this predicated upon an already popular novelty song first recorded by Gene Autrey in 1949. And this song's lyrics began as a poem created by an American advertising executive called Robert May. He was requested to produce a poem that could be given away to children by the Santa Claus employed by Department Stores at Christmas! Johnny Marks was the composer who eventually set the words to music.
In 1965, Charles Schultz's beloved Charlie Brown entered the pantheon. This special banked it's future on the wild success of the Charlie Brown cartoon franchise. And perhaps because of that cache, it dared to break new ground of it's own. 1) It used the voices of actual children. In animation circles in the 1960's this was a radical idea. 2) It told the nativity story using the Bible. This was Charles' idea, and it initiated the very first time that anything in the Bible was presented as animation (Veggie Tales, eat your hearts out!) 3) The score was commissioned by Jazz musician Vince Giraldi. The music was bouncy and yet contemplative which matched the slower pace of the animation. And up until this time, successful TV animation was all fast paced, sight gags, and momentum driven. "Charlie Brown's Christmas" forever changed that.
In 1966, the final member of the trinity arrived in the presentation of "How The Grinch Stole Christmas". Like Charlie Brown it was based on a popular children's literary work....a work that today is a classic. In 1966, the written work had been in publication for 9 years. And with this animation a once popular (then somewhat forgotten) actor was chosen to play the title role: Boris Karloff. It's a hallmark of anything "classic" that aspects of it's place in culture take it's components to new places -- i.e. who can name anything that Mr. Karloff did in his decades of acting in Hollywood that is more well remembered and more ubiquitous that his portrayal of the voice of the Grinch?
And so there you have it. I managed to catch all three of these this year on TV, and cozy on the couch staring into my little TV's glow, it truly Christmas again!
It all began in 1964 with "Rudolf The Red Nosed Reindeer." It was stop action animation directed by the Japanese Kizo Nagashima (bet you didn't know that!) It stunned audiences with a talking snowman who as narrator stood both within and without of the story -- an innovation that we today take for granted (and reached it's apex in Stephen Sondheim's "Into The Woods".). The models for show were quickly relegated to the prop room after the production. Rudolf was eventually purchased at an auction and used as a centerpiece for a candy dish by an up-state New York family for years; Cornelius Klondike was "melted down"..... All of this predicated upon an already popular novelty song first recorded by Gene Autrey in 1949. And this song's lyrics began as a poem created by an American advertising executive called Robert May. He was requested to produce a poem that could be given away to children by the Santa Claus employed by Department Stores at Christmas! Johnny Marks was the composer who eventually set the words to music.
In 1965, Charles Schultz's beloved Charlie Brown entered the pantheon. This special banked it's future on the wild success of the Charlie Brown cartoon franchise. And perhaps because of that cache, it dared to break new ground of it's own. 1) It used the voices of actual children. In animation circles in the 1960's this was a radical idea. 2) It told the nativity story using the Bible. This was Charles' idea, and it initiated the very first time that anything in the Bible was presented as animation (Veggie Tales, eat your hearts out!) 3) The score was commissioned by Jazz musician Vince Giraldi. The music was bouncy and yet contemplative which matched the slower pace of the animation. And up until this time, successful TV animation was all fast paced, sight gags, and momentum driven. "Charlie Brown's Christmas" forever changed that.
In 1966, the final member of the trinity arrived in the presentation of "How The Grinch Stole Christmas". Like Charlie Brown it was based on a popular children's literary work....a work that today is a classic. In 1966, the written work had been in publication for 9 years. And with this animation a once popular (then somewhat forgotten) actor was chosen to play the title role: Boris Karloff. It's a hallmark of anything "classic" that aspects of it's place in culture take it's components to new places -- i.e. who can name anything that Mr. Karloff did in his decades of acting in Hollywood that is more well remembered and more ubiquitous that his portrayal of the voice of the Grinch?
And so there you have it. I managed to catch all three of these this year on TV, and cozy on the couch staring into my little TV's glow, it truly Christmas again!
Friday, December 21, 2007
What I'm Watching #120
"Rock Haven" is an extremely low-budget independent film. The perfected child of its creator David Lewis.
The blurb on the DVD case gives a descent summation: "Is faith stronger than sexual attraction? Beady, an 18-year-old devout Christian, is given that test when he and his mother move to a scenic Northern California coast town where he falls in love with his new neighbor Clifford. There to spread the good word, Brady instead becomes hopelessly attracted to this handsome athlete who is the complete opposite of him: vivacious and free-spirited. There's an instant sexual spark and the two young men must navigate the divide between Brady's beliefs and their budding romance." -- it's mostly accurate.
And now the points that are important:
1) Its production values are not very strong (I'm being generous). The highlights are photographic interludes of the Northern California coast. The MAJOR downer is the incessantly inane adagio score that seems always to accompany the beautiful images of the coastline.
2) The Christian mom played by Laura Jane Coles has just got to be the one and only "Betty Bowers: America's Best Christian!" And how ironic would that be!?
3) As over the top sappy/silly as some of this film is, it still reminds me of my own youthful days of conflict and rings true on many levels. To bad that my "Clifford" turned out to favor playing God's chosen over accepting God's choice for his life!
Every Evangelical Gay Christian should see this film, as well as, those to love them.
The blurb on the DVD case gives a descent summation: "Is faith stronger than sexual attraction? Beady, an 18-year-old devout Christian, is given that test when he and his mother move to a scenic Northern California coast town where he falls in love with his new neighbor Clifford. There to spread the good word, Brady instead becomes hopelessly attracted to this handsome athlete who is the complete opposite of him: vivacious and free-spirited. There's an instant sexual spark and the two young men must navigate the divide between Brady's beliefs and their budding romance." -- it's mostly accurate.
And now the points that are important:
1) Its production values are not very strong (I'm being generous). The highlights are photographic interludes of the Northern California coast. The MAJOR downer is the incessantly inane adagio score that seems always to accompany the beautiful images of the coastline.
2) The Christian mom played by Laura Jane Coles has just got to be the one and only "Betty Bowers: America's Best Christian!" And how ironic would that be!?
3) As over the top sappy/silly as some of this film is, it still reminds me of my own youthful days of conflict and rings true on many levels. To bad that my "Clifford" turned out to favor playing God's chosen over accepting God's choice for his life!
Every Evangelical Gay Christian should see this film, as well as, those to love them.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Futbol, too!?
Perhaps I've been too hard on wrestling....
Futbol may be a rather gay sport, too!
Cheers!
Futbol may be a rather gay sport, too!
Cheers!
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Enough Already!
It began in the groggy pre-dawn hours of Tuesday morning when I was awakened by the chop-chop-chop sound of helicopters hovering in the sky over my home. No "Good Thing" ever comes from the sound of helicopters in the morning! Trust me.
I peered out my bedroom window at 5:50 AM to see a barren New Hampshire Avenue that was glazed with an icy scheen. Ice?--A freak storm? NO SCHOOL?!
No such luck! It was a water main ruptured adjacent to the bridge over Sligo Creek. The 20" pipe was 84 years old -- another victim of an ill-equiped and too long ignored infrastructure. The immediate news report declared that it would be repaired in 6 ours.....
Yeah, right! It's been 65 hours since the rupture and the repair crew continues full tilt!. Oh, the humanity! ;-) Oh, the incessant rata-tat-tat-tat of the jack hammers and back hoes......
I peered out my bedroom window at 5:50 AM to see a barren New Hampshire Avenue that was glazed with an icy scheen. Ice?--A freak storm? NO SCHOOL?!
No such luck! It was a water main ruptured adjacent to the bridge over Sligo Creek. The 20" pipe was 84 years old -- another victim of an ill-equiped and too long ignored infrastructure. The immediate news report declared that it would be repaired in 6 ours.....
Yeah, right! It's been 65 hours since the rupture and the repair crew continues full tilt!. Oh, the humanity! ;-) Oh, the incessant rata-tat-tat-tat of the jack hammers and back hoes......
Gubinatorial Family Portraits
The top is the growingly infamous portrait of the Bill Huckabee's, formerly of ARKANSAS. The bottom is from the Christmas card I received from the Martin O'Malley's presently of MARYLAND.
It's hard to know where to begin, so I won't....
It's hard to know where to begin, so I won't....
Recent Pole Results
This from the liberal/progressive website "Daily Kos" which shows a shockingly large lead for John Edwards; and religates Clinton to a 4th place standing....
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Our Latest American Hero #108
Army Staff Sgt. Michael J. Gabel, 30, of Crowley, La.; assigned to the 1st Battalion, 503rd Infantry Regiment (Airborne), 173rd Airborne Brigade, Camp Ederle, Italy; died Dec. 12 at Forward Operating Base Curry, Afghanistan, of wounds sustained when his vehicle encountered an improvised explosive device. Also killed was Cpl. Joshua C. Blaney.
“Poignant Eulogy Presages Hero’s Death”
Staff Sergeant Michael J. Gabel was killed in action by a roadside bomb while serving in Afghanistan on December 12, 2007. Gabel, a 30 year old native of Baton Rouge, LA was on his third tour of duty in Afghanistan.
His brother David Gabel said Michael had planned to re-enlist next year so he could continue to serve in Afghanistan, a country that he loved.
“My brother believed in Afghanistan,” David Gabel said. “He really wanted to see schools, jobs, and opportunities brought to the country. It was his third tour in Afghanistan, and the job there was unfinished.”
Scarcely a month before his own death, Staff Sgt. Gabel had delivered the eulogy for one of three fellow Sky Soldiers, friends all who were killed in Kunar Provence.
Summarizing his feelings, he said: “I will not be bitter. I will not shed any tears of sorrow. I’m proud to have known such a good man and a warrior to the bitter end.”
“Poignant Eulogy Presages Hero’s Death”
Staff Sergeant Michael J. Gabel was killed in action by a roadside bomb while serving in Afghanistan on December 12, 2007. Gabel, a 30 year old native of Baton Rouge, LA was on his third tour of duty in Afghanistan.
His brother David Gabel said Michael had planned to re-enlist next year so he could continue to serve in Afghanistan, a country that he loved.
“My brother believed in Afghanistan,” David Gabel said. “He really wanted to see schools, jobs, and opportunities brought to the country. It was his third tour in Afghanistan, and the job there was unfinished.”
Scarcely a month before his own death, Staff Sgt. Gabel had delivered the eulogy for one of three fellow Sky Soldiers, friends all who were killed in Kunar Provence.
Summarizing his feelings, he said: “I will not be bitter. I will not shed any tears of sorrow. I’m proud to have known such a good man and a warrior to the bitter end.”
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Random Quote #81
"Education is the most powerful weapon you can use to change the world."
~ Nelson Mandela
1918 -
~ Nelson Mandela
1918 -
Sunday Funnies #11
...with a point. This public service ad from the Deutscher Olympischer SportBund reminds us all: "If you don't move, you get fat."
An over-simplification of sorts, but basically a sound concept!
An over-simplification of sorts, but basically a sound concept!
Something Told The Wild Geese
This is the view from the door of my sunroom looking into my backyard. I took it on Thanksgiving Day this year. Now the leaves are all gone and tonight the earlier sleet has been replaced by a steady nearly freezing rain. Makes this photo, with it's ominous sky, seem downright "cozy."
Here's a poem from my childhood; a poem that my school's children will be singing in concert this coming Monday evening (tomorrow).
SOMETHING TOLD THE WILD GEESE
Something told the wild geese
It was time to go.
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered,—“Snow.”
Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned,—“Frost.”
All the sagging orchards
steamed with amber spice,
But each wild brest stiffened
At remembered ice.
Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly,—
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.
~ Rachel Field, 1894 - 1942
Here's a poem from my childhood; a poem that my school's children will be singing in concert this coming Monday evening (tomorrow).
SOMETHING TOLD THE WILD GEESE
Something told the wild geese
It was time to go.
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered,—“Snow.”
Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned,—“Frost.”
All the sagging orchards
steamed with amber spice,
But each wild brest stiffened
At remembered ice.
Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly,—
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.
~ Rachel Field, 1894 - 1942
Saturday, December 15, 2007
What I'm Watching #119
Just finished the second (and I think, final -- Wha wha wha.......) season of the MTV/LOGO channel show Noah's Arc. It grows on you. And dammit, it ended with a cliff hanger never to be resolved....
It's still fun TV in the tradition of "90210" and "OC"; only twist, it's black men...mmm, black GAY men, this time.
Bravo, gentlemen!
It's still fun TV in the tradition of "90210" and "OC"; only twist, it's black men...mmm, black GAY men, this time.
Bravo, gentlemen!
An Unexpected Gift
I have lived here in Takoma Park for just over 13 years. For a few of those year one of my neighbors was a man named Paul. You'll be hardpressed to meet a nicer guy. Paul's day job involves taxidermy and making models for the museums of the Smithsonian Institution. If you visit D.C. and go the Natural History Museum the re-installed Elephant that will greet you upon your arrival's Paul's work, The horses straining to pull the mail coach up the wooden bridge at the National Postal Museum adjacent to Union Station are also Paul's.
So it's really not surprising that in his free time he's a sculptor of animals in bronze. What was a surprise is that, years after moving to his new home in rural Montgomery County with his artist wife, he should send me one of works as a gift. It's a little bronze of a juvinile penguin. I wish the picture did it more justice.
We've share a card since his departure and I've occasionally sent he and his wife a poem on an art postcard. A lesson in how acquaintances become NSA friends, perhaps.
You can find more of his work at
www.rhymerstudio.com
So it's really not surprising that in his free time he's a sculptor of animals in bronze. What was a surprise is that, years after moving to his new home in rural Montgomery County with his artist wife, he should send me one of works as a gift. It's a little bronze of a juvinile penguin. I wish the picture did it more justice.
We've share a card since his departure and I've occasionally sent he and his wife a poem on an art postcard. A lesson in how acquaintances become NSA friends, perhaps.
You can find more of his work at
www.rhymerstudio.com
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Random Quote #80
"Having sex is like playing bridge. If you don't have a good partner, you'd better have a good hand."
~ Woody Allen, 1935 -
~ Woody Allen, 1935 -
Monday, December 10, 2007
Sunday, December 09, 2007
What I'm Watching #118
Is a curious little ensemble piece called "A Very Serious Person". The cover of the DVD declares that you'll experience the talents of Charles Busch "as you've never seen him." And I thought, duh, I've never even heard of the guy before!--and then I did a little online research. Which really didn't help to establish him in my mind. He's written a couple of screen plays, acted in a couple of movies, did a guest spot on "Frazier", and played Nat in 16 episodes of "Oz," but I don't get HBO and prisons scare me.
In this flick he plays a gay Danish nurse who enters into the world of a dying, eccentric matriarch and her gender fem leaning 14 year old grandson. The old lady (Polly Bergen) leaves her penthouse apartment in NYC for a final summer with her orphaned gay-spirited grandson somewhere in a family home in suburbia -- the details are not spelled out. Enter the aloof gay nurse, a crumudgeonly house keeper, and a folksy local beautician and her campy male assistant...shake well, let stand for 95 minutes and you've got this movie. In the process of the film you'll experience some laughs, some fights, a seizer or two, a little sex, a swimming lesson, and, of course, a death.
As a movie, it felt like a story better adapted to the stage, but I don't have any evidence to suggest that it ever was. 1.5 stars for heart...a little one, but a heart none-the-less.
The real find on the DVD is the short "Personal Assistant" also written and directed by Herr Busch for Showtime and starring Kathy Lee Gifford! It was truly a stitch. I guess it's better that little gems like these end up as a bonus on some DVD....
In this flick he plays a gay Danish nurse who enters into the world of a dying, eccentric matriarch and her gender fem leaning 14 year old grandson. The old lady (Polly Bergen) leaves her penthouse apartment in NYC for a final summer with her orphaned gay-spirited grandson somewhere in a family home in suburbia -- the details are not spelled out. Enter the aloof gay nurse, a crumudgeonly house keeper, and a folksy local beautician and her campy male assistant...shake well, let stand for 95 minutes and you've got this movie. In the process of the film you'll experience some laughs, some fights, a seizer or two, a little sex, a swimming lesson, and, of course, a death.
As a movie, it felt like a story better adapted to the stage, but I don't have any evidence to suggest that it ever was. 1.5 stars for heart...a little one, but a heart none-the-less.
The real find on the DVD is the short "Personal Assistant" also written and directed by Herr Busch for Showtime and starring Kathy Lee Gifford! It was truly a stitch. I guess it's better that little gems like these end up as a bonus on some DVD....
Sunday Funnies #10
From my beloved New Yorker:
"You know, statistically speaking, at least one of these gingerbread men is gay."
"You know, statistically speaking, at least one of these gingerbread men is gay."
Saturday, December 08, 2007
What I'm Listening To #32
Since the tragedy of 9/11, Bruce has been on a creative Blow-Out. His first two subsequent CD's "The Rising" and "Devils & Dust" were utterly amazing tours de force for this quintessent American artist.
"Magic" is his latest offering. It's good. It's not amazing. Three isn't always a charm. But no one loves everything about anything, so let us hope as Bruce continues to evolve and create on his life's journey that the next CD will be more reflective, innovative and touching!
"Magic" is his latest offering. It's good. It's not amazing. Three isn't always a charm. But no one loves everything about anything, so let us hope as Bruce continues to evolve and create on his life's journey that the next CD will be more reflective, innovative and touching!
Friday, December 07, 2007
What I'm Watching #117
"Naked Boys Singing" is the completely GAY "A Chorus Line"! It's a smattering of stories that express a variety of aspects of male gay nudity/sexuality.
What gay man can't relate to the song, "Fight The Urge" about the perils of shower taking during high school gym classes? Or delight to the celebration of masturbation in "Jack's Song"? In sights into Judaism are found in "The Bliss Of The Briss"; while "The Naked Maid" opens a window on the world of nude domesticity. And no number is more tender or poignant than "Window to Window" -- the story of a gay voyeuristic love affair.
And yet I think my favorite was the catty, sexy number, "Perky Little Porn Star" with it's redondable lyric:
"When you're background is suburban,
sex can be a bit perturbin',
and the subject of your penis is taboo.
It really is a thrill though,
to monkey with a dildo,
and let the world watch you while you screw!"
In need of a real let your pants....er, hair down, relaxing sing along experience? By all means, "Naked Boys Singing" fills the bill!
What gay man can't relate to the song, "Fight The Urge" about the perils of shower taking during high school gym classes? Or delight to the celebration of masturbation in "Jack's Song"? In sights into Judaism are found in "The Bliss Of The Briss"; while "The Naked Maid" opens a window on the world of nude domesticity. And no number is more tender or poignant than "Window to Window" -- the story of a gay voyeuristic love affair.
And yet I think my favorite was the catty, sexy number, "Perky Little Porn Star" with it's redondable lyric:
"When you're background is suburban,
sex can be a bit perturbin',
and the subject of your penis is taboo.
It really is a thrill though,
to monkey with a dildo,
and let the world watch you while you screw!"
In need of a real let your pants....er, hair down, relaxing sing along experience? By all means, "Naked Boys Singing" fills the bill!
Poetry Is Electric
Ever read something that simply jolts you? Takes your breath away. Knocks the wind out of you with it's profundity?
The experience can be addicting. And this pretty much explains the heart and soul of my love affair with poetry.
Here's a kick-ass poem that looks at life and declares, 'I ain't seen nothing yet!'
WHEN DEATH COMES
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and a singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
and full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.
~ Mary Oliver
1935 -
Go forth and buy her books. Poets need to eat, too!
The experience can be addicting. And this pretty much explains the heart and soul of my love affair with poetry.
Here's a kick-ass poem that looks at life and declares, 'I ain't seen nothing yet!'
WHEN DEATH COMES
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and a singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
and full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.
~ Mary Oliver
1935 -
Go forth and buy her books. Poets need to eat, too!
Thursday, December 06, 2007
"Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow....."
"D.C., we have SNOW!"
And we do. The 1 to 3 inch forecast in the DC area turned into 4 inches here in Takoma Park. The 2 to 4 inch warning for north of the district became 6 inches for Frederick, Maryland.
And on Wednesday, my morning commute from TP to Gaithersburg more than tripled from a 40-50 minute average to 160 minutes: leaving my home at 6:50 AM, I arrived at school at 9:30~! A school in serious "classroom coverage" mode as other teachers had yet to arrive....
I grew up in Michigan where 4 inches of snow is no more serious than a moderately foggy morning; but Maryland on the cusp of DC is just too full of people who have too little experience with such weather from which to respond in a sensible manner. Therefore, chaos always ensues. It's not massive, in fact, it's very limited. But it only takes a dozen well placed traffic accidents to immobilize 500,000 people! -- Isn't that a scary thought?
And then there's this picture from the day after: My home draped in the first snow of the season -- so serene.
And we do. The 1 to 3 inch forecast in the DC area turned into 4 inches here in Takoma Park. The 2 to 4 inch warning for north of the district became 6 inches for Frederick, Maryland.
And on Wednesday, my morning commute from TP to Gaithersburg more than tripled from a 40-50 minute average to 160 minutes: leaving my home at 6:50 AM, I arrived at school at 9:30~! A school in serious "classroom coverage" mode as other teachers had yet to arrive....
I grew up in Michigan where 4 inches of snow is no more serious than a moderately foggy morning; but Maryland on the cusp of DC is just too full of people who have too little experience with such weather from which to respond in a sensible manner. Therefore, chaos always ensues. It's not massive, in fact, it's very limited. But it only takes a dozen well placed traffic accidents to immobilize 500,000 people! -- Isn't that a scary thought?
And then there's this picture from the day after: My home draped in the first snow of the season -- so serene.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
November Casualties
Another good month in the trend downward. November's casualties were the same as October's. And no one will be more thankful than me when the casualties hit zero!
Sunday, December 02, 2007
O Tanenbaum!
Once, during couples’ therapy, back in the day of coupledom!, I was told by our therapist that I didn't need anyone. That being in relationship with others was not essential to my psychological make-up or mental health – and when he offered that opinion, I didn't know what to say. 'Cause on some profound level I understood that he was right.
And yet I'm no recluse by any stretch of the imagination. My work alone keeps me front and center in the lives of dozens of adults and hundreds of children; all of whom I try to care for, nurture, support. I've come to realize that my "me time" is like the time your hybrid automobile spends in the garage plugged into the wall recharging its batteries. Without that, it ain’t gonna take you anywhere.
And in the same way "me time" also entails some amount of ritual: Things that I do to create for myself a sense of meaning that is both nostalgic and immensely comforting – things that recharge my batteries. Some of them were things that I integrated with a new gusto in my life when I was living blissfully unaware of the personal extravagance of coupledom, and none of those things was more intentional or precious than Christmas with all of the accoutrement therein to be found.
Therefore, it was only natural that initially the season was a casualty to the end of that relationship; but slowly it has worked its way back into the pantheon of "me time" rituals.
Which kind of explains why this weekend began with the fashioning of wreaths and ended with the trimming of the tree. A tree, that like the one of my childhood, has a toy train set running beneath it -- my Lego’s replace my father's Lionel. And, yes, it's a poor substitute no matter how you slice it! (My estranged sister inherited the Lionel; and since she’s a breeder with a child, I acquiesced with a willing heart.)
This image suggests, and I will confirm, that my home feels warm and comfy with this pagan monument to the season of Grace forming a centerpiece in my living room. My personal rituals continue in a restorative way, and my neighbors tell me how beautiful it looks to them. That’s an extravagant bonus, a mon avis.
And since I ain't prosecuting a war on anything -- Merry Christmas.
And yet I'm no recluse by any stretch of the imagination. My work alone keeps me front and center in the lives of dozens of adults and hundreds of children; all of whom I try to care for, nurture, support. I've come to realize that my "me time" is like the time your hybrid automobile spends in the garage plugged into the wall recharging its batteries. Without that, it ain’t gonna take you anywhere.
And in the same way "me time" also entails some amount of ritual: Things that I do to create for myself a sense of meaning that is both nostalgic and immensely comforting – things that recharge my batteries. Some of them were things that I integrated with a new gusto in my life when I was living blissfully unaware of the personal extravagance of coupledom, and none of those things was more intentional or precious than Christmas with all of the accoutrement therein to be found.
Therefore, it was only natural that initially the season was a casualty to the end of that relationship; but slowly it has worked its way back into the pantheon of "me time" rituals.
Which kind of explains why this weekend began with the fashioning of wreaths and ended with the trimming of the tree. A tree, that like the one of my childhood, has a toy train set running beneath it -- my Lego’s replace my father's Lionel. And, yes, it's a poor substitute no matter how you slice it! (My estranged sister inherited the Lionel; and since she’s a breeder with a child, I acquiesced with a willing heart.)
This image suggests, and I will confirm, that my home feels warm and comfy with this pagan monument to the season of Grace forming a centerpiece in my living room. My personal rituals continue in a restorative way, and my neighbors tell me how beautiful it looks to them. That’s an extravagant bonus, a mon avis.
And since I ain't prosecuting a war on anything -- Merry Christmas.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Our Latest American Hero #107
Army Sgt. 1st Class John J. Tobiason, 42, of Bloomington [Hayfield], Minn., died Nov. 28 in Baghdad, Iraq, of injuries suffered from an incident that is currently under investigation. He was assigned to the 847th Adjutant General Battalion, 89th Regional Readiness Command, Wichita, Kan.
"Hayfield Soldier Was Deeply Private, Affectionate, Loyal"
HAYFIELD -- The public might have grown weary of the war in Iraq, but Sgt. 1st Class John J. Tobiason never tired, never wavered in his belief that what he and his country were doing was the right thing.
That sense of certitude shines through in letters he wrote to his American Legion friends back in Hayfield. In one, he contemplated the possibility of his own death.
"I love my country, and I know that if I was to die for it, it would've been an honor dying for something so precious as freedom is for all of us," Tobiason wrote in a letter that appeared in the Hayfield paper five months before his death in Baghdad.
Details about how he died remained sketchy Friday. His sister, Nancy Mitchell of Mantorville, said that Tobiason was in a "safe zone" when the incident happened. He reportedly stepped outside of a tent when shots were fired.
Tobiason, 42, was a private man who enjoyed solitary pursuits. He loved fishing and had a room set aside in his two-story house for playing his drums on his own.
Like a lot of private people, Tobiason, 42, was not necessarily an easy guy to get know. But once you did, that same sense of loyalty he had for country and freedom extended to you. You entered his zone, became part of his family, and often found yourself wrapped in one of his affectionate hugs, friends say.
"He always had a smile on his face, and he knew what freedom cost. And the sad thing about it, he gave it all," said Bruce Tiegen, a retired real-estate agent and Vietnam veteran.
What defined him was his attitude toward service and country. He had served in Desert Storm in the early 1990s. When he moved to Hayfield, he made the local American Legion Post his second home, working in the kitchen, bartending and helping in whatever capacity he could to fix up the place.
His death comes less than a month after the unveiling of a new veterans memorial in downtown Hayfield. Tobiason was among the more than 320 veterans whose names were etched into the memorial. And Friday, his paver stood out, bracketed by two bouquets of flowers laid by the family.
The news of his death cast a pall over this community of 1,400. Many heard the news for the first time during a gathering of bingo at the legion hall, all but destroying the sense of festivity.
At Uncle Mony's Restaurant, waitress Kathy DeMaria remembered Tobiason as the "one of the nicest, friendliest kids I've ever known." The last time she saw him, Tobiason was about to return to Iraq after a 30-day leave.
"When he came in and gave me a hug and (said) goodbye, I said, 'Now, you come back.' And he said, 'I hope so.'" DeMaria said.
"Hayfield Soldier Was Deeply Private, Affectionate, Loyal"
HAYFIELD -- The public might have grown weary of the war in Iraq, but Sgt. 1st Class John J. Tobiason never tired, never wavered in his belief that what he and his country were doing was the right thing.
That sense of certitude shines through in letters he wrote to his American Legion friends back in Hayfield. In one, he contemplated the possibility of his own death.
"I love my country, and I know that if I was to die for it, it would've been an honor dying for something so precious as freedom is for all of us," Tobiason wrote in a letter that appeared in the Hayfield paper five months before his death in Baghdad.
Details about how he died remained sketchy Friday. His sister, Nancy Mitchell of Mantorville, said that Tobiason was in a "safe zone" when the incident happened. He reportedly stepped outside of a tent when shots were fired.
Tobiason, 42, was a private man who enjoyed solitary pursuits. He loved fishing and had a room set aside in his two-story house for playing his drums on his own.
Like a lot of private people, Tobiason, 42, was not necessarily an easy guy to get know. But once you did, that same sense of loyalty he had for country and freedom extended to you. You entered his zone, became part of his family, and often found yourself wrapped in one of his affectionate hugs, friends say.
"He always had a smile on his face, and he knew what freedom cost. And the sad thing about it, he gave it all," said Bruce Tiegen, a retired real-estate agent and Vietnam veteran.
What defined him was his attitude toward service and country. He had served in Desert Storm in the early 1990s. When he moved to Hayfield, he made the local American Legion Post his second home, working in the kitchen, bartending and helping in whatever capacity he could to fix up the place.
His death comes less than a month after the unveiling of a new veterans memorial in downtown Hayfield. Tobiason was among the more than 320 veterans whose names were etched into the memorial. And Friday, his paver stood out, bracketed by two bouquets of flowers laid by the family.
The news of his death cast a pall over this community of 1,400. Many heard the news for the first time during a gathering of bingo at the legion hall, all but destroying the sense of festivity.
At Uncle Mony's Restaurant, waitress Kathy DeMaria remembered Tobiason as the "one of the nicest, friendliest kids I've ever known." The last time she saw him, Tobiason was about to return to Iraq after a 30-day leave.
"When he came in and gave me a hug and (said) goodbye, I said, 'Now, you come back.' And he said, 'I hope so.'" DeMaria said.
Petal Skull
I know, Halloween is over! But "Poetry" magazine has this image on its December cover, and I found it so macabre and yet beautiful that I wanted to share it.
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