You know the expression "Some things never get old?" It really doesn't apply all that much when you're one of the "old things." Actually, visits to the above-entitled institutions recently have made me feel younger and healthier, which are relative terms of course, and if you're coming out of these places Imagining yourself as younger and healthier, consider the case of the Chinese sage, Chuang-Tzu. He awoke one day from a dream in which he was a butterfly, or, he wondered, was he really a butterfly who was now dreaming he was Chuang-Tzu?
But forget about whether it makes you feel younger or healthier (if someone your age can imagine something like that); reflect on any recent experience you have had and consider whether it left you feeling more joyous, more whole, more comfortable, more satisfied (perhaps even healthier?)--whatever. A trip to the doctor's office, the urgent care or even the hospital bears the potential to leave you feeling worse off. Even if they do leave you feeling better off, I will wager you wish you had never had to go there in the first place (hey, that's not fair for those of you who go there to work and to help others to bet me, you are the exception, although some who do this work find it less than satisfying, too--but I am wandering off the point). The bold statement I wanted to make was this--this stuff gets old. Give me six months (6 weeks?) without the need to visit any of the aforementioned places and that, my friends, would indeed be a thing that would never get old.
Now the fact is that none of these visits was caused by a life-threatening condition, but that only makes it that much more annoying, Shame on me, I complain about all these humdrum things that led up to my visit, when there are people who go in there in extreme circumstances. And we don't need a television drama set in a hospital to remind us of that. The serious things, the life-threatening ones, are not the ones I am talking about. I'm talking about the visits where the ER triage leaves you waiting until you are the last one there. "Oh, yeah, you need treatment, but not nearly as badly as this or that other person." Even at the endodontist's office, he apologizes for taking three hours to do your root canal, which ended up taking him about 15 minutes of actual work. "Sorry," he says, "I had an emergency come in." It gets old.
But everything is relative, and "what is important and necessary" for you is not the same as what is "important and necessary" for everyone else. Think about the man who was praying to God. "Lord," he prays, "I would like to ask you a question." Believe it or not, Our Lord answers him, "No problem. Go ahead." He asks, 'Lord, is it true that over a million years to you is but a second?" Our Lord replies, "yes, that is true." So the man asks, "Well, then, what is a million dollars to you?" Our Lord responds, "A million dollars to me is but a penny."
"Ah, then Lord, will you give me a million dollars?" "Sure," says the Lord, "Just a second."
I just can't think of anything more to say. Einstein understood relativity, not me.
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
Monday, May 16, 2016
The Game Is Monopoly
Did anybody ever figure out a way to shorten Monopoly? I remember liking that game when I was young, but giving it a pass once i realized how long it could take to finish. And I have lived most of a lifetime never regretting it. But now, I have to face this all over again--My wife wants to buy the grandkids a Monopoly bored or is it "board?"
Maybe Google knows..
I'm back, and--I am not making this up--there is, in fact, a way to shorten the game to only four hours (instead of 70 days--the longest game reported on that bank of all intelligence that is Google)--JUST FOLLLOW THE RULES!
It seems that Monopoly, which was created in 1935 and sold by Parker Brothers (Since taken over by Hasbro), is played by most people "the way we've always played it." This usually means that people or, rather, little kids are taught the game by playing it with others --like parents or older siblings. This demonstration approach is easier and more fun than actually reading the rules. Not only do you get the actual game started faster. It''s a ton less boring than reading the rules.
The down side of this is that nearly everyone misses a crucial rule. If a player lands on a property and chooses not to buy it, "The banker then auctions the property, and the property goes to the highest bidder." And, "The bidding may start at any price." All players may bid, including the player who landed on the property and chose not to purchase it in the first place. It is said that this speeds the game up by allowing people to acquire the full set of properties and thus begin building properties, which raises the rent and so on...
The auctions immediately create more interaction among the players earlier in the game, as they try to bluff, trick and otherwise dupe the other players into doing what they want them to do. In short, to behave like little capitalists. Once that is accomplished, Monopoly becomes more instructive about life and business in general; making it more fun for all your young, budding capitalists.
It turns out there are a couple of other rules that are not included in the word-of-mouth approach by which we were all taught--money may be borrowed only from the bank, and only by mortgaging property. Borrowing from other players is forbidden. The other little known rule is that only one hotel may be placed on a property. I can't remember the intricacies of the game well enough to tell you what effect the latter rule might have, except to prevent overly dense development. But I do remember the loans between players that taught another important life lesson about dealing with loan sharks that only television series and movies about gangsters will now teach.
Now I fear, we will soon have the chance to see it in action--I'm pretty sure Grandma had made up her mind already and would buy the game regardless of my objection. Furthermore, I think I will be compelled to play myself to ensure these long-lost rules about the auction process, loan-sharking and over-developing are applied. Or maybe I can just leave it to another of the estimated 1 billion people who have played Monopoly since it was introduced. If I live to tell, I will report back.
Maybe Google knows..
I'm back, and--I am not making this up--there is, in fact, a way to shorten the game to only four hours (instead of 70 days--the longest game reported on that bank of all intelligence that is Google)--JUST FOLLLOW THE RULES!
It seems that Monopoly, which was created in 1935 and sold by Parker Brothers (Since taken over by Hasbro), is played by most people "the way we've always played it." This usually means that people or, rather, little kids are taught the game by playing it with others --like parents or older siblings. This demonstration approach is easier and more fun than actually reading the rules. Not only do you get the actual game started faster. It''s a ton less boring than reading the rules.
The down side of this is that nearly everyone misses a crucial rule. If a player lands on a property and chooses not to buy it, "The banker then auctions the property, and the property goes to the highest bidder." And, "The bidding may start at any price." All players may bid, including the player who landed on the property and chose not to purchase it in the first place. It is said that this speeds the game up by allowing people to acquire the full set of properties and thus begin building properties, which raises the rent and so on...
The auctions immediately create more interaction among the players earlier in the game, as they try to bluff, trick and otherwise dupe the other players into doing what they want them to do. In short, to behave like little capitalists. Once that is accomplished, Monopoly becomes more instructive about life and business in general; making it more fun for all your young, budding capitalists.
It turns out there are a couple of other rules that are not included in the word-of-mouth approach by which we were all taught--money may be borrowed only from the bank, and only by mortgaging property. Borrowing from other players is forbidden. The other little known rule is that only one hotel may be placed on a property. I can't remember the intricacies of the game well enough to tell you what effect the latter rule might have, except to prevent overly dense development. But I do remember the loans between players that taught another important life lesson about dealing with loan sharks that only television series and movies about gangsters will now teach.
Now I fear, we will soon have the chance to see it in action--I'm pretty sure Grandma had made up her mind already and would buy the game regardless of my objection. Furthermore, I think I will be compelled to play myself to ensure these long-lost rules about the auction process, loan-sharking and over-developing are applied. Or maybe I can just leave it to another of the estimated 1 billion people who have played Monopoly since it was introduced. If I live to tell, I will report back.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Journal Entry April 27, 2016
(In his mind's eye he owned a small aluminum fishing boat, which he took out when he needed time to harbor a pleasant image of mindfulness when he found himself dwelling on something that got him down.)
He'd hooked his old aluminum fishing boat to his truck
and taken off at dusk the night before,
and found room at a small inn, where he could listen to
those small waves, and they'd listen to him. too
To make this trip pleasant, he had to do a thing or two
He'd have to be up early, early in the morning to do
So there he was out hunting--before breakfast--
but not coffee, that was true
In the early morning light of that sleepy Carolina fishing village
along the river to the sea (of these only a few remain),
he took a walk along the docks and looked about
for what he'd need to make a go of this last-minute trip.
There are a few chores necessary to this periodic quest
for a peaceful respite from his daily far-too-normal world.
One was launching his little boat
alone in the cold morning of each day,
Another was the daily grind of lining up for fuel
to fill his little outboard, with those over-sized behemoths--
the cigarette boats that fill the waters these days,
sounding like denizens of truck stops, what a pain.
The remedies he sought this early morning were two
a little space to dock, to tie up and rest when he'd need to,
and a couple of those small red tanks to carry a bit of fuel.
If he used it sparingly, he'd have gas enough for a day or two.
Along the dock, he saw some spaces that might work.
But he kept finding there was no one to tell his story to
Then he came across a fair-skinned woman,
likely half his age who sat right down to listen.
With a bit of
almost free of charge in fact, just a little space
along the stretch of dock she ran
there, along the river front.
He mentioned almost in passing,
his distaste for his next task, floating over
to that fuel pump, to fill the smallish tank
of his old outboard motor, over and over.
She nodded sympathetically, and told him
if he'd invest a bit of time and muscle to refill on his first visit
all those tanks lined up there against her stand,
she'd lend him two at her special rate--free of charge in fact.
Back in his room at the inn,
he made an entry in his journal,
more to Christina than to himself:
"Good buy--dock and tanks"
(Good bye, doc--and thanks)
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
The Active Lifestyle
...and we danced all night
'til the morning light
came billowing from the East.
Still it should be told
as we're growing old,
that we've had fun at least.
We waited so long
but now we'll sing our song
to the once-feared local beast.
"Come back, little laddie
and you'll be our caddy
as we run the cart
through the wildest part
and drive all the way to the sea."
'til the morning light
came billowing from the East.
Still it should be told
as we're growing old,
that we've had fun at least.
We waited so long
but now we'll sing our song
to the once-feared local beast.
"Come back, little laddie
and you'll be our caddy
as we run the cart
through the wildest part
and drive all the way to the sea."
Thursday, March 17, 2016
St Paddy's Day Eve
'Tis St Paddy's Day Eve and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, neither doggy nor spouse
In the kitchen, the makings were all neatly laid there
For that special drink made with traditional care
There's coffee there waiting to be rapidly made
and Jameson's whiskey we'll add at the parade,
The special recipe we've improved through the years of good use.
We'll be addin' whipped cream and Bailey''s, our spirits to loose.
Sometimes 'tis needed to ward off leprechauns
or just to keep spirits up as the special day dawns.
Yes 'twill soon be St. Paddy's day in Savannah, G-A
and that parade is a sight that can sweep ya away.
To save us our spot there's Johnny, he'll stay overnight
So we can have that old watching place--always just right,
There in the median of East Broad Street, that old avenue
Where the Pirate's House sits becoming part of the view.
And there sits Eileen who'll plant kisses of red
on the cheeks of those soldiers who march straight ahead.
At the Pirate's we'll breakfast; with family and friends, some old and some new
More than just fill our plates, we'll earn that special bonus, a day's pass to the loo.
Soon the spectacle holds us spellbound--with all that we see.
The Irish, their floats; bagpipe bands and yes--much revelry.
Yes it's St. Paddy's day, so we'll share Irish coffee
(except for Jim G. who prefers a small taste of just Irish whiskey)
All the while we'll be thinking of friends and family,
some present today, some who can't always be.
But their voices today you might just chance to hear
wishing Happy St. Paddy's to both those away and those near.
--Jim B on the occasion of his 20th St. Paddy's day parade in Savannah
Not a creature was stirring, neither doggy nor spouse
In the kitchen, the makings were all neatly laid there
For that special drink made with traditional care
There's coffee there waiting to be rapidly made
and Jameson's whiskey we'll add at the parade,
The special recipe we've improved through the years of good use.
We'll be addin' whipped cream and Bailey''s, our spirits to loose.
Sometimes 'tis needed to ward off leprechauns
or just to keep spirits up as the special day dawns.
Yes 'twill soon be St. Paddy's day in Savannah, G-A
and that parade is a sight that can sweep ya away.
To save us our spot there's Johnny, he'll stay overnight
So we can have that old watching place--always just right,
There in the median of East Broad Street, that old avenue
Where the Pirate's House sits becoming part of the view.
And there sits Eileen who'll plant kisses of red
on the cheeks of those soldiers who march straight ahead.
At the Pirate's we'll breakfast; with family and friends, some old and some new
More than just fill our plates, we'll earn that special bonus, a day's pass to the loo.
Soon the spectacle holds us spellbound--with all that we see.
The Irish, their floats; bagpipe bands and yes--much revelry.
Yes it's St. Paddy's day, so we'll share Irish coffee
(except for Jim G. who prefers a small taste of just Irish whiskey)
All the while we'll be thinking of friends and family,
some present today, some who can't always be.
But their voices today you might just chance to hear
wishing Happy St. Paddy's to both those away and those near.
--Jim B on the occasion of his 20th St. Paddy's day parade in Savannah
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
What Was That, Anyway?
A few days ago, I was reminded of my old high school days. Our teacher in Honors English (yes, I was once in the upper echelon of the study of English--I even had a close brush with majoring in English...but that's another story) our teacher introduced us to modern theater. We listened to Luigi Pirandello describe the world where man has only himself as a guide, no principles of philosophy or dogma, just our own experience; in a word--Existentialism.
We met Jean Paul Sartre, who told us, "However, again, I am first and foremost not my situation. Thus, at every moment I choose whether to continue on that life path, or to be something else. Thus, my existence (the mere fact that I am) is prior to my essence (what I make of myself through my free choices). I am thus utterly responsible for myself. If my act is not simply whatever happens to come to mind, then my action may embody a more general principle of action. This principle too is one that I must have freely chosen and committed myself to."
Father Ryan also gave us a nodding acquaintance with Albert Camus. Camus introduced us to the absurd, "Perhaps we should clarify from the very beginning what the absurd is not. The absurd is not nihilism." For Camus the acceptance of the absurd does not lead to nihilism (according to Nietzsche nihilism denotes the state in which the highest values devalue themselves) or to inertia, but rather to their opposite: to action and participation. The notion of the absurd signifies the space which opens up between, on the one hand, man’s need for intelligibility and, on the other hand, 'the unreasonable silence of the world' as he beautifully puts it.
The absurd man, like an astronaut looking at the earth from above, wonders whether a philosophical system, a religion or a political ideology is able to make the world respond to the questioning of man, or rather whether all human constructions are nothing but the excessive face-paint of a clown which is there to cover his sadness.
Scorn is the appropriate response in the face of the absurd; another name for this 'scorn' though would be artistic creation. When Camus says: “One does not discover the absurd without being tempted to write a manual of happiness” (Camus 2000:110).
The so-called manual of happiness manifested itself in the "Theater of the Absurd." Critic Martin Esslin coined the term in his 1960 essay "Theatre of the Absurd." He related the plays he was discussing as plays based on a broad theme of the Absurd, similar to the way Albert Camus uses the term in his 1942 essay, "The Myth of Sisyphus". The Absurd in these plays takes the form of man’s reaction to a world apparently without meaning, and/or man as a puppet controlled or menaced by invisible outside forces. Though the term is applied to a wide range of plays, some characteristics coincide in many of the plays: broad comedy, often similar to Vaudeville, mixed with horrific or tragic images; characters caught in hopeless situations forced to do repetitive or meaningless actions; dialogue full of clichés, wordplay, and nonsense; plots that are cyclical or absurdly expansive; either a parody or dismissal of realism and the concept of the "well-made play". I wouldn't call Whiskey Tango Foxtrot as quite so absurd as what Esslin describes above, but there are situations that make you reflect a bit.
The mode of most "absurdist" plays is tragicomedy. As Nell says in Endgame, "Nothing is funnier than unhappiness … it's the most comical thing in the world". Esslin cites William Shakespeare as an influence on this aspect of the "Absurd drama." Friedrich Dürrenmatt says in his essay "Problems of the Theatre", "Comedy alone is suitable for us … But the tragic is still possible even if pure tragedy is not. We can achieve the tragic out of comedy. We can bring it forth as a frightening moment, as an abyss that opens suddenly; indeed, many of Shakespeare's tragedies are already really comedies out of which the tragic arises."
This all came drifting back as I walked out of the theater after watching Tina Fey in Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.
Here's how one reviewer, Matt Donato (wegotthiscovered.com) puts it, "As a legless veteran (Evan Jonigkeit) tells Baker, all you can do is “embrace the suck, and move the fuck on.” This very notion is what Fey does a splendid job wrestling with for WTF‘s entirety, ensuring that Baker isn’t just some sassy, rookie-phenom reporter who takes the world by storm. Fey establishes depth, and evolves in the most hopeless of locations.
We met Jean Paul Sartre, who told us, "However, again, I am first and foremost not my situation. Thus, at every moment I choose whether to continue on that life path, or to be something else. Thus, my existence (the mere fact that I am) is prior to my essence (what I make of myself through my free choices). I am thus utterly responsible for myself. If my act is not simply whatever happens to come to mind, then my action may embody a more general principle of action. This principle too is one that I must have freely chosen and committed myself to."
Father Ryan also gave us a nodding acquaintance with Albert Camus. Camus introduced us to the absurd, "Perhaps we should clarify from the very beginning what the absurd is not. The absurd is not nihilism." For Camus the acceptance of the absurd does not lead to nihilism (according to Nietzsche nihilism denotes the state in which the highest values devalue themselves) or to inertia, but rather to their opposite: to action and participation. The notion of the absurd signifies the space which opens up between, on the one hand, man’s need for intelligibility and, on the other hand, 'the unreasonable silence of the world' as he beautifully puts it.
The absurd man, like an astronaut looking at the earth from above, wonders whether a philosophical system, a religion or a political ideology is able to make the world respond to the questioning of man, or rather whether all human constructions are nothing but the excessive face-paint of a clown which is there to cover his sadness.
Scorn is the appropriate response in the face of the absurd; another name for this 'scorn' though would be artistic creation. When Camus says: “One does not discover the absurd without being tempted to write a manual of happiness” (Camus 2000:110).
The so-called manual of happiness manifested itself in the "Theater of the Absurd." Critic Martin Esslin coined the term in his 1960 essay "Theatre of the Absurd." He related the plays he was discussing as plays based on a broad theme of the Absurd, similar to the way Albert Camus uses the term in his 1942 essay, "The Myth of Sisyphus". The Absurd in these plays takes the form of man’s reaction to a world apparently without meaning, and/or man as a puppet controlled or menaced by invisible outside forces. Though the term is applied to a wide range of plays, some characteristics coincide in many of the plays: broad comedy, often similar to Vaudeville, mixed with horrific or tragic images; characters caught in hopeless situations forced to do repetitive or meaningless actions; dialogue full of clichés, wordplay, and nonsense; plots that are cyclical or absurdly expansive; either a parody or dismissal of realism and the concept of the "well-made play". I wouldn't call Whiskey Tango Foxtrot as quite so absurd as what Esslin describes above, but there are situations that make you reflect a bit.
The mode of most "absurdist" plays is tragicomedy. As Nell says in Endgame, "Nothing is funnier than unhappiness … it's the most comical thing in the world". Esslin cites William Shakespeare as an influence on this aspect of the "Absurd drama." Friedrich Dürrenmatt says in his essay "Problems of the Theatre", "Comedy alone is suitable for us … But the tragic is still possible even if pure tragedy is not. We can achieve the tragic out of comedy. We can bring it forth as a frightening moment, as an abyss that opens suddenly; indeed, many of Shakespeare's tragedies are already really comedies out of which the tragic arises."
This all came drifting back as I walked out of the theater after watching Tina Fey in Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.
Here's how one reviewer, Matt Donato (wegotthiscovered.com) puts it, "As a legless veteran (Evan Jonigkeit) tells Baker, all you can do is “embrace the suck, and move the fuck on.” This very notion is what Fey does a splendid job wrestling with for WTF‘s entirety, ensuring that Baker isn’t just some sassy, rookie-phenom reporter who takes the world by storm. Fey establishes depth, and evolves in the most hopeless of locations.
Donato captures the feeling that filled my head and heart as I left the theater. This is no small comedy, but a comedy that lives up to Camus and Sartre, facing man's (and woman's) existence and its absurdities and triumphs. Tina Fey must have had a hand in the writing here, it is laced with her wry wit and observations on life amid a very real tragicomedy. WTF, go see it, see what you think it's all about.
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
Have I Seen This Somewhere Before?
Can I live a life of no regrets
Not overcome by old lost bets
Can I spend my days in the here and now
Living out each day with just this vow
These next four hours are all I've got,
so I'll live them through the best way I know
Then turn them loose, the entire lot,
keep what works, let the others go
Spending the time in a short burst
Keeping the.best, and dumping the worst.
Undecided, there's a hitch
No need to sort out which is which
They'll all go with me to the ditch
Unless they all drift out to sea
Due to loss of memory
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