Archive for the ‘Words’ Category
Saturday, April 22nd, 2017
“He had a strong sense of his life being upon the turn, between two seasons, as it were, with the certainties of the one no longer valid for the other. He was not a fanciful man, but for some time now he had had an indefinable sense of chaos following order, of impending disaster; and it oppressed his mind.”
— the thoughts of Captain J Aubrey
Treason’s Harbour by Patrick O’Brian
I am swept up in the riveting climax of my ninth O’Brian novel, and must finish it off within hours. The library purchased the new Charlton Heston biography in response to my request, so I shall be taking a break from my esteemed Stephen Maturin to immerse myself — one more time — in the life story of “Hollywood’s Last Icon.”
Posted in Fiction, Nonfiction, Personalities | No Comments »
Monday, September 29th, 2014
“Sex crime springs from fantasy, hallucination, delusion, and obsession. A random young woman becomes the scapegoat for a regressive rage against female sexual power: “You made me do this.” Academic clichés about the “commodification” of women under capitalism make little sense here: It is women’s superior biological status as magical life-creator that is profaned and annihilated by the barbarism of sex crime.”
— Camille Paglia 9/29/14
Posted in Current Events, Nonfiction, Personalities | No Comments »
Sunday, September 14th, 2014
“There have always been isolated losers. But that isolation often inspired its own remedy. People want to belong to a community. That desire fuels assimilation and civilization. The horrifying challenge of today is that thanks to the digital age and an ideology and a culture that often sees assimilation as incompatible with “multiculturalism,” the losers no longer have to stop being losers to cure their sense of isolation. They can join a huge virtual rape gang on the Web and have their evil desires confirmed and celebrated. And some of them, weary of puncturing their masturbatory reveries by pecking out LOL on a keyboard, have the option of hopping on a plane.”
— Jonah Goldberg 9/5/14
Posted in Current Events, Nonfiction, Personalities | No Comments »
Monday, September 8th, 2014
There are different types of ideal days.
For me, surely today was one of them.
After what may have been the best night’s sleep that I have had in two or three months, I woke up with a cool breeze above my pillow and came downstairs to discover a nutritious breakfast smoothie and a pot of hot coffee to go with it. Thank you, Dana, for getting my day off to such a positive start. TSLA, YHOO, TJX, and FEYE took over from there, when the market opened, and I spent a productive morning managing my active trades for four separate accounts, including the Trust investment. I may have gotten a suitable entry price for a long position in VMW, but only time will tell with that. When the office intercom beeped, I was the beneficiary of a delicious roast turkey sandwich with a bowl of fresh gazpacho. It has been a fine season for tomatoes, and I am still working on getting my fill. Dana said that aging Walie was having one of her most lively days in a long time. After lunch, I noticed a new Ommatidia story by Brendan (which always makes my day), checked email, and worked a bit on my Spotify playlists, now that Marty has me successfully making the transition from Pandora. Some time ago I figured that eventually one would be able to watch any movie or TV show on demand, but I had not expected so soon to see the same be true of music. Yes, I have to listen to commercials now and then, but they are not as obnoxious as those on the Pandora site, since most of the Spotify ads are about the musical offerings themselves. Then it was into the painting studio for another session on the GAB portrait (with a few Danny Darst tunes for good company). I can say that I finally overcame the wall of fear (compliments of an old pal named perfectionism) that became attached to this commission, but now the pressing need is to find a route to the summit by the end of the month. I have pledged to myself to complete the artwork for Greg’s and Lynne’s return from their trip to France. At 4 o’clock, I crossed the street to play chess with the library group: one win, one loss (strangely enough, it usually works out that I beat the people I am capable of defeating and lose to those I am not capable of defeating). Although I rediscovered chess through vision therapy a while back, I am getting more serious about it this year, now that I can regularly match wits with local players right next door. Before I left, I checked out Is He Dead? (I admit that I wanted the Mark Twain comedy primarily to study the engravings by Barry Moser). When I got home I crossed paths with Dana, leaving to meet her spiritual group at the library, and then I jumped back into my yew-trimming topiary project in the front yard. With each passing growing season, it is easier and faster for me to keep them in shape, but more difficult to make significant changes or refinements. Nature will provide an occasional opportunity for a new direction or interesting detour, but it is mostly about keeping the whole effect under control. When the “skeeters” decided it was time to bite my ankles, it was off to Centre for some weight lifting before dinner. Being settled into the gym groove has always been a confidence-booster for me, and that goes back nearly 45 years. Peter Lupus emphasized that 100 twists a day kept his waistline small, although I have not been able to achieve the daily habit yet. In the workout room, I combine strenuous twists with the “ab chair” to manage my own belly, plus a circuit of machines and dumbbell exercises, in addition to the trusty bench press (where is that best buddy to spot me?). As I entered our back door after a brisk walk home, a blend of magnificent odors told me that Dana had been baking up a storm — sourdough bread, chocolate cake, and apple pie! We are preparing to celebrate Marty’s promotion to full-time employment at Hitachi in Harrodsburg. I am not the only member of the household on a roll. Well done, Grandson (and he got an A in his first course at the Technical College). Marty happened to be catching up on sleep (I cannot imagine handling a night-shift + school schedule the way he does), so Dana and I split a Red Hook and enjoyed a bowl of Swiss-chard-lentil soup with raw-tomato-basil-cheese salad. All that was left for me to do was to record my ideal day at this blogsite, and now I am ready to hit the sack. Tomorrow we shall begin again!
Posted in Art, Blogging, Brendan, Chess, Community, Dana, Death, Exercise, Family, Fiction, Food, Friends, Gardening, Gratitude, Home, Investing, Marty, Movies, Music, Nature, Personalities, Pets, Pie, Priorities, Psychology, Studio, Television, Theatre, Time | No Comments »
Wednesday, March 5th, 2014
This is Ash Wednesday. Perhaps it is good each year to remind oneself that none of us escapes ending up as a cigarette butt in the tray of life. No reason not to postpone it as long as possible and to maintain the optimum quality of existence, until we find out what is on the other side. Dana, Joan, and I start the Dr. Junger CLEAN program today (the same 21-day regimen we did together in October). Dana will be out of the studio, driving Terie to see Dr. Jerome in Campbellsville. START by Jon Acuff is the book that I have assigned myself this month (in addition to three others I am reading). It seems that my current pattern is to have a morning book, a bedtime book, and a travel book. In some ways, this is better than getting involved in an all-consuming read that pulls at my shirt sleeve all day. That could all change quickly, if I found another Paul Watkins or James Clavell. Day (charming wife of Lee’s cousin, John, the composer and educator) recommended that I should take on the Aubrey–Maturin series by Patrick O’Brian. When the timing is right, I really should try the first one.
Posted in Dana, Death, Fiction, Food, Friends, Joan, Nonfiction, Personalities, Words | No Comments »
Friday, February 28th, 2014
Although I have ambitious plans for the annual exercise, most of my activity will focus on daily milestones for The Collage Miniaturist. Nevertheless, this space has been an important part of the ritual from the beginning, and I intend to use it for notes and random thoughts as I move through the month. Admittedly, that is a much different format than the formalized records of previous years, when the idea made its transition from Experiment to Exercise. Those introspective passages and “sight bites” are kind of cool to revisit, but I have it out of my system now, and the energy will be put to best use in creating actual artwork.
Posted in Blogging, Words | No Comments »
Sunday, January 13th, 2013
“When the resolution of enslaving America was formed in Great Britain, the British Parliament was advised by an artful man, who was governor of Pennsylvania, to disarm the people; that it was the best and most effectual way to enslave them; but that they should not do it openly, but weaken them, and let them sink gradually …. I ask, who are the militia? They consist now of the whole people, except a few public officers. But I cannot say who will be the militia of the future day. If that paper on the table [the Constitution without a Bill of Rights] gets no alteration, the militia of the future day may not consist of all classes, high and low, and rich and poor.”
— George Mason
In response to a friend who said, “I tire of the suggestion that we need semi-automatic weapons just in case we need to overthrow the government,” I replied:
I respect your view, but think of the countless mothers worldwide who have lost their families in brutal coups and tyrannical oppressions (even during our lifetimes). The idea is not that Americans will need to mount an overthrow. The idea is that the need will never emerge in the first place
because those who framed the Bill of Rights did not find the deterrent a bad precaution, as tiresome as it may seem at times.
Virginian George Mason ultimately did not vote to ratify the U.S. Constitution because it did not include a Bill of Rights. Thus, he sacrificed his place in history as the leading mind that helped shape the invention of American self-government.
Posted in Current Events, Firearms, Nonfiction, Personalities, Political Affairs | No Comments »
Monday, December 31st, 2012
Wherefore I perceive that there is nothing better, than that a man should rejoice in his own works; for that is his portion: for who shall bring him to see what shall be after him?
—Ecclesiastes 3:22
— Year of 2012 workout totals: Swim-13; Bike-48; Powerwalk-3; Run-0; Lift-12; Pilates-0; Yoga-0; Lupus Drills-2
— Meeting my goal of a minimum of 48 bicycle workouts seems to have had a disastrous effect on my swimming this past year—a near reversal of 2011. Does that make any sense? I was able to do my sixty-mile bike + sixty-lap swim on April 30th without a lot of pool preparation, and then the swimming totally fell apart during the summer. Perhaps it was because I wasn’t looking ahead to my annual channel swims in the Les Cheneaux, because I had already decided to skip the trip to Michigan and spend my 30th wedding anniversary with Dana.
— A series of aggravations over the past few months has resulted in daily knee pain as I head into a new year. It’s hard to say how that will affect my fitness routines. I need to find a way around it until healing takes hold. Here are the factors that must have contributed: 1) Hauling nearly a ton of free sand by wheelbarrow from the parking lot construction site across the street to the back yard. 2) Too much time hunting in a stressful, Japanese-type posture with stretched knees. 3) Moving Terie’s stuff from South Carolina. 4) Slipping on a rug and sprawling forward onto my knees. 5) Additional activity that made things worse (instead of rest), such as trimming branches and cleaning the gutters up on the roof, hauling brush to the farm and dumping it, crawling around in the attic to find squirrel holes, plus raking all the autumn leaves. It feels better than it did at first, but a return to normal could take a long time.
— Highlights of the year? Well, now that the disruption has settled and I’m used to a new dog (Ru, the Shih Tzu), it really is nice to have Terie with us, as opposed to the constant worry over her previous circumstances. Mombo’s unexpected improvement over the year is an important development. Best GABBF of all? Perhaps so. Dana and I observed decade-turning birthdays and our milestone anniversary. The 2nd Veep Debate at Centre was huge for our community (plus a great time with James and Susan). My six-oh event was extremely satisfying, as were memorable bicycle outings with Simpson, Hoover, and Hower. I shall always remember 2012 as the Centennial of Collage—the year I formalized my creation of the small collage, started my new blog, The Collage Miniaturist (catalyzed by the “Tribal Monday” sessions with Kathleen), and re-discovered wheat paste as an adhesive. The local trails summit that I helped organized was a key achievement, as well as the “Uncle Bones” graphics for Lucas, even though I disappointed myself with ridiculous delays on projects for GAB and Last Adventure. A wonderful party to follow the Johnson wedding resulted in some of the coolest pictures ever for Dana and me. And, of course, the weekend in November with another Clan wedding and the Ohio trip to install a sign with Dan and Bill was one of the best experiences of any year.
— It’s time to look forward and raise the bar for a new cycle. It may seem as though negatives outnumber the positives, but it’s just a matter of attention. Nurture—Affirm—Forgive—Inhale! There is no permanent status, because each day is a new page with the same challenges and pitfalls, but also the same opportunities for self-investment, accomplishment, practice, and constructive change. Pick one problem each day and heal it in some way. Nothing is beyond me, in and of itself, but, if I let inaction coalesce to a critical mass, it has the potential to crush. Make each day count. Eliminate the obstacles, brick by brick. Nothing new added without processing something over-ripe. Set realistic goals and re-invent the checklist. Believe that all will be fulfilled as never before.
V & S
Posted in Art, Birthdays, Blogging, Community, Dana, Exercise, Family, Friends, Mombo, Pets, Priorities, Terie, Verse | No Comments »
Tuesday, November 6th, 2012
Quoting Jesus of Nazareth, Abraham Lincoln told America, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.”
The election results are clear. Very little has changed, and all the deep division resumes again tomorrow. It looks as though the president has earned a second term with fewer electoral votes than he won the first time, and with a popular-vote margin that falls short of a mandate. Although the man has succeeded in putting together his “pied piper” coalition once again, he is not the unifying leader he claims to be, and, sadly, never was.
Posted in Crashology, Political Affairs, Presidency, Scripture, Words | No Comments »
Wednesday, August 15th, 2012
Something occurred to me not that long ago, and I may have mentioned it here: Many of the most important things I’ve wanted to express through this personal journal already have been set down in this seven-year record. On the other hand, I came to the realization that I still had a lot to say about art, especially my approach to the century-old medium of collage. Whether the world needs yet another blog is a point I won’t question here. All I know is that I apparently need another, and so, if you’re interested, I direct you to The Collage Miniaturist. The main purpose, I have no problem admitting, is to showcase my collage artwork. That’s the selfish part. In addition, I have a strong desire to formulate and share a coherent attitude toward what it is and why I do it. I would hope that it also becomes a point of reference for others who create or appreciate the medium. That’s all I’ll say today. The rest of it can be found at TCM. We’ll see what becomes of it, by and by. I still need to add a mechanism for transacting sales, but I might as well begin to write and display images. Wish me luck.
Posted in Art, Blogging, Words | No Comments »
Tuesday, July 24th, 2012
What was the world coming to and what hearty pleasures folks today missed out of life! One bag of meal her pap said, used to make a whole family rejoice. Now folks came ungrateful from the store, grumbling they had to carry such a heavy market basket. Was that the way this great new country of hers was going to go? The easier they made life, the weaker and sicker the race had to get? Once a majority of the men got weak and soft, what weak, harmful ways would they vote the country into then? Well, her pap’s generation could get down on their knees and thank the Almighty they lived and died when they did. How would they ever have come and settled this wild country if they said to each other, “Ain’t you afeard?” How would her pappy have fetched them the long way out here on foot if he’d kept asking all the time, “Are ye all right? How do ye feel? Do ye reckon ye kin make it?” No, those old time folks she knew were scared of nothing, or if they were, they didn’t say so. They knew they ran bad risks moving into Indian country, but they had to die some time. They might as well live as they pleased and let others bury them when the time came.
—from The Town by Conrad Richter
This past weekend couldn’t dovetail more aptly with my previous musings on the parallel lines of sweetness and sorrow: the joy of hugging and laughing with Seitz Family loved ones mixed with the ache of seeing Kelly off to his final rest. I’ve never had a big brother. Wayne came the closest. If we had lived in proximity, Kelly might have filled that void in many ways, but now he’s gone, too. Susan’s choice of a strong set of funeral readings moved my spirit. The sadness was balanced with the opportunity for Mombo to see former friends from Tipp City: Jane, Flo, and Mary Jo, and I was able to kiss the cheeks of Angela, Lynnette, and Jenny, while meeting the eyes of Karen for the first time in 35 years. The bitter with the delicious—this seems to be the taste of things for me. Thus it probably always has been, but now I recognize and accept it.
Alyx joyfully announced her engagement, while grieving families in Colorado sorted out the tragic aftermath of a rancid nut-job’s evil handiwork. It’s hard not to wonder what our society is coming to when things like this happen, but how do such dangers compare to the daily risks our ancestors faced with no loss of determination? And if the frontier rangers had caught a murderer, rapist, or horse thief, the misfit would have swung from a noose in short order, without a thought wasted on his psychological deficit or woeful childhood. Perhaps we shall eventually see a would-be exponent of such premeditation swiftly and lawfully cut down by a “citizen sheepdog” who just happened to be carrying his weapon in circumstances one would think it unnecessary to do so.
Dana and I watched The Iron Lady last night, and we found too many flaws in the motion picture to recommend it, but I must say it caused me to remember Thatcher’s firm resolve in crisis. There are many kinds of fear. They must all be cast out—whether by righteous indignation or by perfect love. Throughout a life now cut short, I’m certain that Kelly was afraid at times, but I have always thought of him as one of the most fearless men I have known. Whether it was having the courage to marry young and to bear whatever stigma the world would throw upon his path, or to take on the high-pressure world of corporate sales, or live his convictions as an example to his family … or to bravely face a diagnosis that would suck the hope from someone who didn’t know what he believed. It never seemed written for the two of us to go beyond a periodic big smile and strong handshake. Nevertheless, he always set a fine example from a distance. And, for me, I expect that will continue to be the case.
Posted in Crime, Current Events, Dana, Death, Family, Fiction, Firearms, Friends, Mombo, Movies, Words | No Comments »
Tuesday, June 19th, 2012
“One man live. Another man die. One woman laugh and the other one cry.”
—Danny Darst, Lady Luck
Back in the depths of our winter mourning, when I would see people talking and laughing with delight, it seemed out of character with the tone of existence, even though I knew at the same time that it was only natural for every imaginable emotion to be continuously bubbling through the current of humanity. But didn’t I live next to a funeral home? Didn’t I know that death was a constant—running abreast of every joy I experienced on any given day?
That same contrast of feeling is with me again, to some extent, because my best buddy’s sister was in a terrible car wreck. As I write this, she holds on to life despite massive brain trauma… and this is a family that lost their patriarch only eight months ago. I know what it’s like to be plunged into the icy waters of such a vigil, and yet here I am enjoying the heck out myself this summer, basking in the glow of the marvelous Johnson wedding and the best of the Great American Brass Band Festivals to date. Mombo is doing better than anyone could have expected a few short months ago, working her way toward a full mile on the treadmill, in the face of a prognosis what would have broken the spirit of many, and yet my Clan has come together to forge an even stronger bond, proving to me once again that the unfailing light of family love is the most powerful force I have yet to encounter in this life of 60 years. Here I am, enjoying the simple pleasures of each unfolding day. I make art, watch silly TV shows, play with my pup, trade stocks, grow tomatoes, read books, and ride my bicycle like I’m still a kid… and there he is, my soul mate since 1970, wounded to the core and wondering what God holds in store for the next hour, day, week… wondering how he will be forever shaped in some as yet undiscovered way. Two connected but parallel worlds.
As I heard Dana say to another recently, “There is something sad going on in every family.” The inverse must be true as well. I remember realizing that there must be happy things occurring in my family at the same time I was selecting my son’s gravesite, but one hesitates to share such things with relatives in the grip of anguish. In this age of social networks, I’m always struck by the odd juxtapositions of delight and grief, but, of course, life has never been otherwise. However, with age, it’s just a bit more difficult to mentally insulate one’s personal world, in contrast to the manner of my youth. And so I try to let my periodic melancholy be informed by the presence of exuberance, and to allow my occasional bliss to be peppered by the knowledge of sorrow.
It seems to me that all the emotions of life are fully present in our extended circle of experience, but are fleeting, elusive stuff at the private, individual level. I wonder if the impermanence of happiness is at the root of most addictions, many of which go beyond the typical vices and substances—patterns such as gossip, broadcast news watching, pack-ratting, procrastination, argumentation, anger, and all manner of risky and abusive behaviors (yes, that includes extreme exercise, too). In place of natural serenity, we get hooked on habit-triggered adrenaline and brain chemicals that have little to do with what we should know provides the only enduring satisfaction—service to life and oneness with creation. Sensual pleasure and physical comfort have their proper place, but as a focus of life soon become an empty shell or bottomless well.
It is said that change is the only permanent state. Perhaps, but where does change originate? My only answer is: The One Creative Source—the only truly permanent thing. As we come to accept the inevitable—that life in this dimension is characterized most of all by impermanence—then we eventually learn to understand the flow of suffering and sweetness, to look for meaning in the essentials, to appreciate real friends, to value the unity of family, and to age with dignity.
Posted in Art, Dana, Death, Exercise, Family, Friends, Gardening, Mombo, Pets, Psychology, Television, Words | No Comments »
Wednesday, March 7th, 2012
If the front side of the coin of success is the ability to set clear goals for yourself, then the flip side of the same coin is the ability to get yourself organized and work on your most valuable tasks, every minute of every day. Your choices and decisions have combined to create your entire life to this moment. To change or improve your life in any way, you have to make new choices and new decisions that are more in alignment with who you really are and what you really want.
—from Goals! by Brian Tracy
Struggled through the old quicksand of dragging a project up to its production deadline, while discovering more and more unsolved problems. But, as usual, with two minds brought to bear, everything was resolved in the end. Then I hurried over to the bank to test the digital projector made available to me for Friday’s presentation. Just giving the guys a quick preview of my talk made me realize I know my subject thoroughly. The topic is not the issue; it’s all about the delivery. Linda’s workshop was an unexpected clinic on public presentation. With that in mind, I have plenty of time tomorrow to prepare. Bert Cooper exclaimed, “Turning creative success into business is your work, and you have failed!”
Grounds for Confusion
Posted in Nonfiction, Studio, Technology, Television, Time | Comments Closed
Monday, March 5th, 2012
Life is no straight and easy corridor along which we travel free and unhampered, but a maze of passages, through which we must seek our way, lost and confused, now and again checked in a blind alley. But always, if we have faith, a door will open for us, not perhaps one that we ourselves would ever have thought of, but one that will ultimately prove good for us.
—A.J. Cronin
It was a shock to confirm that March had indeed come in like a Lion, with Lexington getting even more snow than Danville. Crossing the Kentucky River on the Bluegrass Parkway offered a striking scene in the early morning light. Dana and I spent our day in the city, learning new skills in preparation for long life. When somebody moves our “cheese,” we have to shift outside the zone of comfort and make choices about what to change. Donald Draper asked, “Where do you want me to start?”
Agenda Items
Posted in Awe, Business, Dana, Education, Nature, Nonfiction, Priorities, Television, Time | Comments Closed
Saturday, March 3rd, 2012
The cornucopia was a symbol of her power to bestow favors, the rudder a symbol of her more sinister power to change destinies. She could scatter gifts, then with terrifying speed shift the rudder’s course, as she watched us choke to death on a fish bone or disappear in a landslide.
—from The Consolations of Philosophy by Alain de Botton
When a client offers deep thanks and writes, “It’s all so professional and mood-appropriate that I’m just in awe,” it’s time to pause and be grateful for my blessings. Broke out the mountain bike, fed the knobby tires some air, and took my first bicycle ride of the season. I saw a barn on Gentry Lane with only half a roof and wondered if that happened yesterday. All the news coming in about the human toll and devastation has me contemplating that thin edge between ruin and relief. Connie Hilton said, “By golly, you are an indecently lucky man.”
Morning After
Posted in Awe, Business, Exercise, Gratitude, Nonfiction, Television | Comments Closed
Thursday, March 1st, 2012
But whether you liked it or not, Death was something you had to go through life with. Plenty times you would meet up with it if you lived long enough, and you might as well get used to it as you could.
—from The Trees by Conrad Richter
Saw the curled-up squirrel on the sidewalk, lifeless as a piece of fast-food litter. New structure for the regimen proved to be a reasonably good framework. Pushed ahead toward the album cover deadline. James stopped by to discuss trust matters. Bert Cooper urged, “Reconcile!”
Incidentals
Posted in Death, Fiction, James, Studio, Television | Comments Closed
Friday, January 27th, 2012
“I have been told often enough that I have a sense of humor that makes strong men faint and women reach for weapons.”
— Gene Wolfe
If you enjoy a highly imaginative, superbly written short story, please don’t overlook Gene Wolfe. Best recommendation Bruce ever made to me.
Posted in Bruce, Fiction, Personalities, Words | No Comments »
Sunday, November 27th, 2011
Out of the blue — a rare eagle-eye view!
Recently I had the great fortune to enjoy a flight in a small plane with a pilot who is a fellow bicyclist. Earlier in the summer he mentioned that I should go up with him, but I forgot about it until I received his invitation by email. I was excited to join him, and I was prepared to share whatever he wanted to do. Unexpectedly, as soon as we departed the airport vicinity above Junction City, he asked me what I wanted to see. And so I happily guided him to a destination in the Casey County knobs — for any red-blooded member of the Dixon Clan, it was unquestionably the “place to go.”
This is the part of the story where clearly I should provide some kind of apt description of just how magnificent that experience proved to be. Instead, I hope that a few pictures will capture the perspective better than anything I might write. I hadn’t been in a position to do any aerial photography for at least 15 years or more. At that time, I had borrowed superior camera equipment and was in an aircraft which enabled me to hang out an open window with Dana clutching my belt. Because I was on the clock for a client that day, the idea of heading toward Blue Bank Road wasn’t in the cards. This time around, I only had our inadequate digital, and the plane windows were picking up a lot of glare, so I did my best to grab some decent angles in the time available, falling short of the desired “full coverage.”
There was also a significant degree of turbulence that morning, and when my friend offered me the controls, I declined, believing that the constant bumpiness would deprive me of any true “feel” for whatever modest adjustments I would be brave enough to make. Nevertheless, one can’t ascend in a small craft without being gripped by the wonder of flight. We were soaring with the land, just as pioneering aviators had done. As we circled through Marion County, past Forkland and into the Boyle County I had crisscrossed on a bike for nearly 20 years, my “sense of place” shifted abruptly from a ground-based familiarity to an eagle-eye awareness. I was struck with the thought of my father leaving behind his life as a pilot, giving up flying after he had known these same awesome perceptions far more profoundly than me. Why? Was it the unpleasant “baggage” from too many wartime hours in the air? Was it the power of youth’s love for field, river bottom, and the woodland creatures of a surface world? Or was it something else entirely?
For John Edward, there must surely have been times during that first decade after the Pacific tour when he faced an opportunity to reclaim the sky. A different vision must have taken hold not long after he came home—a vision of family and fatherhood that had no meaningful role for skills he had learned, taught, and then relied upon to survive a hazardous duty. Perhaps he had read Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, the famous French writer and pioneer of flight who was lost over the Mediterranean in 1944. Of Saint-Exupéry, David McCullough says it best for me:
Central to all he wrote was the theme of responsibility. In The Little Prince, it is the fox, finally, that tells the Little Prince what really matters in life, by reminding him of the flower, the single rose, he had cared for at home… “Men have forgotten this truth,” says the fox. “But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose.” Writing of his friend Guillaumet, an intrepid mail pilot, in Wind, Sand and Stars, Saint-Exupéry said that moral greatness derives more from a sense of responsibility than from courage or honesty. “To be a man is, precisely, to be responsible.”
Responsibility. Any of us would be challenged to find another word that better fit the man we knew as Grandy-bo, Dadbo, Eddie … that handsome young man of the open sky who would return to earth and become the founder of our Clan.
Aerials taken on Sunday morning, November 6, 2011.
Click photos to enlarge.
This is Clan Valley — the place to go . . .
The heartland of our Clan, the vision of a man . . .
The Blue Bank Farm and family cemetery . . .
The “Heartyard” and home to our Clan mother . . .
The Realm of Greystone includes Knob End . . .
The former Cabinhood recently changed hands . . .
The Shire — newest addition to Clan holdings . . .
Posted in Dadbo, Family, Friends, History, Nonfiction, Personalities, Priorities, Words | No Comments »
Monday, November 21st, 2011
We grabbed a table in the lounge car for an early breakfast. That first sip of hot coffee tasted good after my miserable night. I had shifted from one spot to another, trying to find a minimum level of comfort, including a stint on the floor at the back of our coach car, where the attendant usually stows the vacuum cleaner. For some reason I still can’t stay reclined in my seat for very long. The ugly scrub east of Reno gave way to an increasingly beautiful climb into California. Now I must read the late Eckert’s account of the Gold Rush to fully appreciate this majestic country. Today I shall just soak it all in visually. I keep my camera handy, but most of the cloudy views are for the fleeting eye only. On the long, slow ascent up the Truckee River Canyon, each snow-topped pile of rock or dusted pine was its own quiet work of art. On through the “big hole” to top the crest of the Sierra Nevada range past Donner Lake, and we now begin our descent to the anticipated destination. It’s intriguing to contemplate reversing this entire journey in another ten days or so. How will I be thinking and feeling differently when that departure time arrives?
Posted in History, Nature, Nonfiction, Personalities | No Comments »
