Posts Tagged ‘reflections

06
Mar
11

of long away and far ago …

At first thought I’d have suspected it would be like separating the wheat from chaff, but it has not turned out that way. I started late last fall to finish the organizing (or culling) of the items of my life that I have been dragging along in boxes and containers, and reminiscing on their importance to justify keeping them around in my old age to admire during my “ending years”.

To be able to look forward to retirement years with a clean, simple, organized home front seemed a proper way to start the final phase of my life. One thing was to do the ‘necessaries’ such as a living will, and the esteemed “last will and testament” which at first glance were for me, then you conclude they are simply to make your coming demise easier for those who will remain after you. So be it ,,, I shall dot those last few I’s and cross those T’s in the next few days and get the nagging relatives back in their burrows where they belong.

So I spent the winter remembering old loves, and great times spent doing things good & bad, and such as that so that I could judge the volume of my keepsakes and build the last of the shelves and cupboards for their display. I am doing the last task today, the Sorting Of The Books. Here is where I was a few hours earlier today:

Headed to the library

These books are now sorted by author, typed into an email by author and title, stored in several boxes. I love that wonderful smell that old books acquire with age, but like all the other trinkets, and letters, and photos that I have sorted thru this winter most all of these books will be delivered to the local library in the next few days.

The reason being, that despite my bloated opinion of myself or my self-worth, none of these items are important or meaningful. Nor will they fit thru the ‘eye of the needle’ so it makes no sense to put much of anything on a shelf, so I have saved myself many days of wood working over the next few weeks. Whew!

Neither is anyone clamoring to have me explain the importance of these items and to learn from the vast wisdoms that I surely possess. Nor are the multitudes stopping by to thank me for the items I’ve left them in my will, since it is considered in bad taste to make those announcements before your death. It certainly gives a new meaning to “delayed gratification”. 🙂

It is not a sad thing I describe, but a simple if brutal truth, things ain’t important (mostly), and if there is any importance at all it is in the minds of people, acquaintances, friends and family and requires no room on a shelf and need not to be seen or watched to be admired.

May he go forth in the sunrise boat,
May he come to the port in the sunset boat,
May he go among the imperishable stars,
May he journey in the Boat of a Million Years.

The Book of Going Forth by Daylight
(Theban recension, ca. 18th Dynasty)

30
Jan
11

the fate of marban

“Crack”

A sound that was gone before the mind could register it.
A short singular tone.
Missing the attack or delay of a bell or piano string.
No overtones.
A photon of sound.

marban tea cup


Then a dribble onto the counter top, showing a feint color of traditional English Breakfast tea. Coming from a break that has been there for almost 12 years, an old and friendly scar to me. It is no longer a surface break, the dribbles attest to its final maturity.

I reach for the Mark Twain cup and press it into service, swapping steeping tea and moving the seine full of tea to finish. Three minutes for proper tea is time to consider the future for the marban.

I am now a decider of fate. Power in my hands. I am like a god, to decide the future if one will be. Yet, I’ll miss all those cracks in the glaze. I’ve watched them grow over the years and appreciate the ‘character’ that emerged. Old age approaching in contrast to the modern graphic used by the mysterious marban. Located somewhere in Korea the bottom of it claims.

I can’t demote the soapstone pencil holder on the writing desk. That holder of pencils was designed for holding pencils, purchased to hold my pencils, still holds my pencils …. you don’t abandon such long term commitments. Yet I have to give up old marban and that was certainly long term, and satisfying, each time a properly hot tea. Some consistency is good.

No you can’t see the death crack, it’s on the back side, no need to glorify it or frighten the children. Nor will examining it resolve the issue of “what happens to marban now?” or how I will finally wield the power of my decision.

“Horns of a Dilemma?”, no, I don’t think that leaking elevates it to that plane.

“Situational Ethics?”, no, that involves deciding that making a decision that you know is wrong, but not wrong since considering the circumstances you’ve decided that you think it is justified to do the wrong thing.

No need to make being the god of marban fate that complex.

Perhaps it could hold pencils in the shop.

It is just a cup.

02
Jan
11

ify:7 the tv

TV for the masses was just getting started when it, like so much other stuff, was postponed due to the 2nd World War. It got rolling by 1950 but suffered from the ‘chicken or the egg’ phenomena – not much need to broadcast if no one had a telly, and why buy a telly if there was nothing to watch?

But it’s hard to keep a good media down 🙂 Most of us watched something downtown at the store that sold TVs as they would set them in the front window and turn them on, and the first family in the neighborhood to get a set would get very popular.

Early RCA test pattern

There might be only one ‘channel’ broadcasting in your part of the state and the shows were limited at first to only a few hours during the day or in the evening. It took a while to start things up at the station so the they broadcast a “test pattern” and you had the time to adjust the horizontal & vertical of your picture if needed. The last thing broadcast was invariably the “Star Spangled Banner” at midnight.

As kids, sis and I were forced to come inside, so the folks didn’t have to watch us outside and could enjoy the shows. We didn’t like TV much since it was for adults. The folks loved it, as only the best of the very best were on TV – comedians, dancers, singers and bands, stage plays, etc.

1950 Crosley Model 10"

It was simply magic to see & enjoy things from places you would probably never visit in person, all on a tiny, round, 9″ black & white screen. Then there was the immediacy of TV, no more waiting until photos appeared weeks later in the Saturday Evening Post.

However, the soul of TV was the fact it was live. It happened at the same time you watched it. If the folks on the ‘set’ messed up then you saw them mess up, if the singer missed a note you noticed, if the lady in the commercial couldn’t get the door of the Frigidaire open , you watched her flub up. It was real in the sense that it was real, really 🙂 It was NOW, as in RIGHT NOW.

Not like today,
when you don’t know when a video was recorded or when a web page was written or who wrote it.
You have no idea anymore, as reality has an obsured meaning since you can’t tell if it’s real or not.

13
Dec
10

garbonzo bean band

Garbonzo Bean Band Event Poster

My sister sent me a link to a video she’d found on YouTube which brought back some old memories of gigs I’d done and bands I’d played with.

Everybody in town knew these guys and I ended up sitting in with them outside of Lindberg’s at the St. Patrick Day parade. Almost every musician in town played with them at one time or another, but especially drummers. John and Chris were the core members and quite often played “walk around” gigs, so drummers were ‘optional’.

I played with them for a year or so and loved every minute of it. The ideal of the band was basically .. “If you’re gonna play for folks, then by gawd, it outa be fun” 🙂

These guys made it fun, and outlandish dress was part of the gig. It wasn’t just music, it was seldom serious, and costumes were required. **

My favorite was was a lime green, pleated, Empire waist pinafore with spaghetti straps.

Most gigs were a bit like performance art and they were all very unique. We played once in the back bedroom at a private New Years party (so we wouldn’t be too loud) and couldn’t see the audience. We quit at 12:30 and visited with them and they said “You guys were great!”.

I’m glad I got to gig with them and have lots of good memories. I’ve got to say that I do not remember recording this video below, but that is me at the set of drums provided for the video.

** I wore pantyhose one evening, and I now know why DRUMMERS DO NOT WEAR PANTYHOSE !!!

10
Jul
10

a thoughtful girl

Shannon

She was a thoughtful girl. Not overly kind, just thoughtful of herself and of others and the world in general. I mean that she thought as in she considered stuff and outcomes and the future. Not just tomorrow, but next week, and down the road. She thought over, under, and around ideas and concepts. Much better than most folk did.

The fact she was drop dead beautiful, and sexy, was beside the point, but now that I mention the point, what was it ???

You didn’t have to see her, but if she was there you were compelled to be aware. Not of her, but of you, the both of you. She didn’t capture a room, but she slowly, helped you fill it with indescribable awareness.

Her voice may not have fit her face, as it went from a high alto down to high baritone (and oh so totally feminine) when secrets were being whispered or close thoughts shared.

It is so great to enjoy something you do not need to see that you enjoy so much more when you see it.

On the back of the bike

sweet breath on my neck

arms around me

sweet firm cusp of breast holding me,

the torture of continuing

to endure painful rapture

may be too much Shannon

03
Dec
09

The Last Place You Look

“I can’t find it! I’ve looked everywhere!!!”, so Mom says “Where’d you leave it?”.

Deductive reasoning at its best, to look for something where it is rather than look for it where it is not, I never would have thought of that.

“Right.” I say, withholding the sarcasm.

Dad smiles but doesn’t speak since he knows and so do I.

I won’t continue to look for it once I’ve found it either.

Damn you, Sherlock Holmes.




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