She Is Not Talking About Me, Strangely Enough

Patrice Lewis of Rural Revolution on the issue of worry:

I know someone who is worrying himself into an early grave. He has an incredible number of blessings in his life – a lovely wife, great kids, a beautiful home, good health, modest financial success – and yet he is so caught up in how bad things are getting (both nationally and internationally) that his worries are starting to damage his health.

Like the commuters in the subway station, this friend can’t always lift his head to appreciate the beauty around him or the blessings of his life. Instead, his eyes are focused on the news as he obsesses over the state of the world.

I know I struggle with this, for sure. Perhaps more than most people. As a remote worker for almost two decades, my perspective often has narrowed to this monitor and keyboard. I have to make an effort, and it’s a constant effort, to not feel isolated and atomized, to get out and to do things.

Jeez, I was Gen Z before Gen Z had a name.

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Movie Report: Indiscreet (1958)

Book coverI bought this film in June in Arkansas, and as it had been almost two months since I’d seen a Cary Grant film (three, actually), it was time.

Ingrid Bergman plays a London actress who comes back from a holiday early after yet another suitor cannot hold her attention. Her sister and brother-in-law stop to use her flat to change before a formal dinner and are surprised to find her back. They invite her along, but she demurs because she finds those dinners and their speakers boring. But Cary Grant shows up as the American economist scheduled to speak, invited to also change at the flat from his trip into his evening clothes, and Bergman is smitten. Pardon me if I don’t bother to include the character names–I’ve already forgotten them.

So Grant and Bergman spend a wonderful evening together, but at the end of the night, Grant says that he’s married, separated, but cannot get a divorce–right after Bergman says she hears that from all the men.

But they take up an affair anyway. Wait, what? Blatant immorality in the 1950s? Get out of town!

So the film is them flirting, bantering, and pitching woo until it is revealed that Grant’s character is not actually married–that he just says that because he does not want to get married, and when he has said that in the past, women always thought they would be the one to make him change his mind. Bergman is just such a woman, and she hopes to change his mind. When she finds out, though, that he is not, in fact, married, she is scandalized and plans a surprise when he is to surprise her for her birthday–she plans to be caught in flagrante delicto with an old flame who falls ill, so she has her elderly chauffeur play the role briefly. But it ends happily, though.

You’re watching it to see Grant and Bergman flirt and caper about (well, not as caper as in some other Grant films).

I’ve seen Bergman in a number of films, but something about the color in this film really emphasized the lines between her teeth, and it was distracting.

Weird. Probably not on a real woman–now watch me as I stare at women’s teeth in the real world until I’m tased–but not something we generally see nowadays on actresses and influencers due to orthodontia and veneers.

So I got to thinking about the leading men/heroes that played opposite of Ingrid Bergman who I most closely resemble in my own mind. Gentle reader, those include Cary Grant (this film and Notorious which I have yet to see), Humphrey Bogart (from Casablance), and Bing Crosby (The Bells of St. Mary’s which I’ve seen a couple of times and include it in my Christmas film rotation). Of all them, of course, I would prefer to be Cary Grantish, but I am pretty sure I am mostly Humphrey Bogartish (I have had a picture of him on my office wall for…. well, probably not decades, plural, yet, but for a long time). Of course, in this accounting, I have forgotten For Whom The Bell Tolls with Gary Cooper, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen that. I would hunt it down for a re-watch but I have other films I’ve not yet seen to get to first.

At any rate, best viewed by a Grant or Bergman completist, but kind of pedestrian and of questionable moral worldview otherwise.

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From the Durant

From Our Oriental Heritage, page 373:

But it would be unfair to judge the people from their kings; virtue is not news, and virtuous men, like happy nations, have no history.

He’s talking about the Persians now and the splendid barbarities they paid upon traitors (painful death, razing whole villages in a manner characteristic of a militaristic leader to come later).

However, the quote reminded me a lot of Tolstoy: “All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

The Story of Civilization series differs from most histories, though, that the Durants spend a lot of time covering non-militaristic and non-Great Man threads of history, focusing on the arts and commerce of civilizations especially under the more enlightened leaders of each.

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Book Report: Ozarks Impressions by Robert E. Gustafson (1995)

Book coverI am not sure when I got this book. It has a Redeemed Books sticker on the back that seems to indicate it was added to their inventory in 2010. So somewhere between then and now. It is a collection of poetry written by a retired economist from a consultancy or think tank and it’s illustrated by his brother, a retired artist. The volume I have is numbered 386 of 1500 and is inscribed to Linda. I found myself musing as much on the history of this book and the men who produced it as the actual contents.

The book contains poems that are built using haikus as the syllable counts for each stanza. The number of haikus per poem, that is, the number of stanzas per poem, varies. The book mostly deals with introspection and landscapes and follows the seasons from spring to winter.

So: okay, the author says they’re haikus, and some of them could stand alone as haikus, but most of them cannot, and they’re just syllable counts for lines in English. I think a much more interesting challenge would have been to make haikus that build upon each other to a common theme or poem, but the poet does not indicate this is the case. Although I am pretty sure the result would have been similar: some good haikus that build to a complete poem, but some haikus that clanged on their own and didn’t rise to independence just serving as filler material in longer poems.

At any rate, an interesting read, fairly quick, sometimes enjoyable, but sometimes questionable. I remember one poem talking about a fox eating turkeys, and given the relative size and feistiness of each, I had a hard time believing it to be true. I would need a Dablemont ruling on that.

So if you can find one of the other 1,499 copies available, it might be worth a glance if only to think What if I tried that?

Also, as an aside, something I learned in Our Oriental Heritage: Apparently, the Japanese were so crazy for hokku when they first came out that they had competitions on who could write the best and they bet on it until the Japanese government put it down (Our Oriental Heritage, 881). I am not sure I would have bet on Gustafson unless I knew something about the other guy.

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From the Durant

Our Oriental Heritage page 265:

For barbarism is always around civilization, amid it and beneath it, rady to engulf it by arms, or mass migration, or unchecked fertility. Barbarism is like the jungle; it never admits its defeat; it waits patiently for centuries to recover the territory it lost.

In this volume, the first, this will be a recurring theme. This starts the chapter on Assyria, the barbarians in the equation, about to pounce on the remains of Babylon.

Those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it. Those who know history issue unheeded warnings to the ignorant and are ignored.

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How I Did Not Spend My Saturday

Two die in Ironman triathlon as witness says ‘race should never have gone ahead’:

Two men died while taking part in the “brutal” swimming leg of an Ironman triathlon event in Ireland with disruption from Storm Betty that made the water “choppy”.

The storm had been battering County Cork, where the event was taking place, and conditions were “brutal” as competitors took to the water, a witness said.

I am not a fan of the open water swim. I am also not a fan of competitive swimming in the ocean. Come to think of it, I am not really a swim fan.

This Saturday, though, I did compete in my first sprint-length triathlon, and I did better than I hoped. Longer swims expose my lack of swimming ability and make me far less competitive, so I finished about 6th from the bottom.

Forensically, I look back and think I could have trimmed some of my swim time if I had not positioned myself second-to-the-end of the indoor pool snake-swim where you line up according to speed–I was faster than the woman I was behind, but I did not pass her as I was doing the triathlon on “cruise” speed, aiming just to finish. The first transition included a run from the YMCA pool to a transition area that was a city block away–run around the YMCA building in a parking lot barefoot, cross some grass, cross an apartment complex’s parking lot, cross some grass, and then part-way across a church parking lot to the transition area where the shoes are.

I made a wrong turn on the bike, too, which added a mile or so until I recognized no police or volunteers were blocking traffic and no bikers finishing the out and back route were passing me any longer. So that added five minutes or more to my time.

Also, I walked probably half of the 5k run at the end. I certainly hadn’t trained for it. I had a time of 35 minutes with the walking–my normal 5k time is right about 30 minutes, so it only added 5 minutes to it.

But I suppose I could have trimmed, what, ten minutes from my overall time? That would have moved me up nine spots, probably still in the bottom third. So, yeah, longer triathlons are not my sport.

When I racked my bike, my old triathlon coach asked me if I was going to stay on it that day. I guess the fact that I laid my bike down on the Tiger Tri three weeks ago and finished it bloody has become common knowledge. He was working the mike at the finish line, and he announced me by calling me a staple of the shorter triathlons. Which I guess I have been this year–I’ve done two indoor triathlons and the two outdoor triathlons this year, which is pretty good for how poor my training regimen has been.

I did get a cool picture from it, though.

Now, after a couple months, I can get back to my real fitness passion: Weightlifting, as I can do so much of it sitting or lying down.

Well, until I decide to train at the last minute for the indoor triathlon at Chesterfield Family Center in late winter.

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Book Report: Night Thoughts of a Classical Physicist by Russell McCormmach (1982,1991)

Book coverI picked up this book back in 2007, and likely then as now I confused it for “Night Thoughts of a Quantum Physicist” which was a physics lecture given when I was an adult instead of this novel which was written when I was a boy and must have gotten some use as a textbook, as the volume I have contains some note-taking.

It is a bit of a non-linear story about a classical physicist at the end of his career in the year 1917. He reflects on his career, the physicists he has known, and how Einstein and quantum theory is really not all that–he still believes that aether is the substance tying everything together, and he bemoans that physics has moved from a mechanical understanding of the universe to a mathematical one. The story is set during World War I, when it was becoming clear that the war was not going well for the Germans, so the war and its impact are a counterpoint to the main character’s story–or an augmentation thereof, as he served during the 1870 war with France. The timeline of the story outside the flashbacks and dreams of being judged for being an inadequate physicist takes place over a couple of days starting with a trip to the theatre and through a talk that the professor gives and beyond. He reflects a bit on the suicide of a peer, which leads to a (spoiler alert) final Did he? Probably!

It’s but 157 pages, so a quick read if you’re in it for the fiction. It also comes with 60 pages of end notes and bibliography, essentially, if you want to see how much research the author went through to get details right. But I’m just here for the story, pal. I’ll deal with the math when I come to a copy of “Night Thoughts of a Quantum Physicist” which I probably have around here somewhere. Actually, I both do and do not until I discover I do, and that copy is right now on my to-read bookshelves vibrating in unison with a copy in Berkeley, California, right now.

An interesting read, more literary than a lot of stuff I stuff into my intellectual gullet, and it kind of reminded me of The Death of Ivan Ilyich by Leo Tolstoy in its end-of-life reflections. Hopefully, the theme is not resonating with me because I am nearing the end of my life, but one never knows. One never knows.

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Someone Has Gotten The Word Out

Amid ‘summer surge’ of new COVID variant — should we be wearing masks?

I’ve only seen a couple of headlines on the new Covid strain and did not click through because I’m not a particular Covidophile, but apparently someone has gotten the word out–perhaps on cable news or something–because both of the times I’ve been to Sam’s Club or the grocery store this week, I’ve seen people wearing masks again.

Not many, but someone has heard the huntsman’s horn and is again obeying.

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Book Report: The Adventures of Slim & Howdy by Kix Brooks and Ronnie Dunn with Bill Fitzhugh (2008)

Book coverI have to say that this is the best novel based on country-and-western album liner notes that I have ever read.

Apparently, Brooks & Dunn’s albums had some stories featuring Slim & Howdy in the liner notes. Gentle reader, I gathered my Brooks & Dunn albums in those dark days of audiocassettes, which contained liner notes in very small type indeed. So I had not seen any of this material before.

Slim and Howdy are a couple of hard luck singers who meet at a used car lot and decide to pool their resources for a bit. They have some adventures recovering Slim’s guitar; wooing a couple of women from a honkytonk who then lead them unwittingly into a burglary; and ultimately into rescuing a friend and employer, the woman who owns the Lost and Found bar in Del Rio, Texas. A border town, get it? Lost and found in a border town? Yeah, the book alludes to a number of Brooks & Dunn songs like this. It probably does more than I know since my collection stops at Hard Working Man, and to be honest (as you can guess, gentle reader) my country and western listening is limited to the rare occasions (rare now as my son is mowing the lawn, and rare as it will be for a year or so until he is too busy or two gone to do so).

The bulk of the book is ultimately (I guess I already said that) to the latter quest–finding the bar owner who has been kidnapped for unknown reasons, but for whom a ransom note eventually arrives. Is it the recently fired employee, a hard case with body piercings making a fake mohawk? Is it the person from whom Slim and Howdy recovered Slim’s guitar, the person who has vowed revenge? Is it someone who has done busines with the woman’s father, who has gotten wealthy not entirely honestly? Or something else?

Well, it’s something else, a bit twee and perhaps expected. It ends up with gunplay that only scratches the heroes but mortally wounds the bad guys. And finis.

Not a bad read. Certainly targeted to Brooks & Dunn fans. The book included a CD single with the song “Gotta Get Me One Of Those”, and very stern warnings indicated you could not return the book if the envelope containing the CD had been breached. I assumed that the CD was missing, as it is on so many of my tech books, but I discovered it is intact and unbroken. Oh, the dilemma: Get the single which I will not listen to often or preserve the collectibility of this book for future generations who will not find it collectible anyway?

Well, gentle reader, they might have saved it from Napster kept it off of the iTunes store and forgotten to make it available on Amazon, but it’s on YouTube:

No word on if it’s available for free on Napster.

I did not break the seal on the CD, anyway, as it is my wont to not adulterate the books I read in any way except for some Dorito dust now and then.

At any rate, an okay, if simply told bit of modern Western. Not the amount of depth you get in, say, Louis L’Amour or James R. Wilder, but a bit of fun for Brooks & Dunn fans. Speaking of whom, holy smokes, those guys are like 70 years old now, and they’ve been retired as a musical act for over a decade. Somehow, in my head, they’re always forty-something like they were when I got the albums in the middle 1990s. And I’m still twenty-something.

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Movie Report: Funny People (2009)

Book coverWell, I have often–well, I have once or twice–talked about the Sandlerverse and the Ferrellverse and even the Apatowverse. I’d say this is a crossover event, but really it’s an Apatow movie with Adam Sandler in the lead role, and it relies on actors from the Apatowverse (Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill), so this has nothing to do with the Sandlerverse at all. And it’s not even a comedy–it is a drama about comedians, so it has some jokes, but the situations themselves are not comic.

Sandler plays an older, established comic who went from stand-up to movie success who learns he is dying of a blood cancer, so he sort of adopts a younger comic to be his protégé and assistant and…. friend. Sandler’s character also tries to reconcile with his ex-fiancé who is now married to an Australian businessman and has two children. When he learns that his cancer is cured by the experimental treatment he received, he almost convinces her to leave her husband, but ultimately everyone learns that Sandler’s character has not really grown from his experience and is still very self-involved.

Unlike, say, Step Brothers, this lack of growth is not celebrated–it’s recognized as tragic. But, eventually, in the dénouement as the credits roll, we see a bit of a reconciliation.

Like Spanglish, this is an early dramatic turn for Sandler, but the character is not sympathetic enough to draw us in, and the Rogen-based assistant is, well, played by Rogen. He just doesn’t draw me in.

As I have mentioned, I’m probably going to miss a lot of Sandler’s later œuvre as it’s on streaming platforms and not in wide release, although perhaps if the streaming market implodes, they’ll be available elsewhere. Also, you are correct in guessing that I was disappointed that œuvre did not give me the opportunity to pretentiously use another word with accents, although I did get a chance to use one of those smashed-together letters.

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Book Report: Our Oriental Heritage by Will (and Ariel) Durant (1935, 1954)

Book coverWell, gentle reader, I have done it.

All right, I have not read the Durants’ The Story of Civilization series, but I have read the first volume which is a step in that direction. I bought most of the series in 2019, but I had to order this book from Ebay or Amazon. It’s got the embossed stamp of the previous owner, one R. Neil Schirke, on the title page, but the previous owner did not read it. Or so I assume, as this edition was poorly cut so that some of the pages were still wed together at the bottom–I carefully tore them when I needed to turn them, but some portions of the table of contents and index remain unseparated.

I have a bunch of little paper flags in the book, but it’s a lot, so I won’t drop them all here. Instead, I’ll parcel them out as “The Wisdom Of….” posts perhaps. Or I’ll get tired of having the volume on my desk (although I don’t have a place to put it on the Read shelves of Nogglestead with room for its fellows, so no rush).

But I will comment a bit on the Durants’ style and whatnot.

This book covers thousands of years in its almost 1100 pages. It starts out with a “book” defining what it means by civilization–basically, the structure of society and the art that comes with it which distinguish a civilization from a tribe. Then it delves into different civilizations by location and time period starting with the early Mesopotamian civilizations (Sumeria, Egypt, Assyria, Judea, Babylonia, and so on) in the near East; Indian civilizations in the Indus valley; Chinese dynasties; and then Japan (no love for Korea or Mongolia, for example, although the appropriate dynasty is covered in the book on China).

Each “book” within this volume goes through the civilizations discussed not entirely in chronological order, but rather chronological order by topics. So you have a timeline of government and/or social organization, and then you have chapters dedicated to various arts and occupations from industry to writing, philosophy, religion, poetry, sculpture, architecture, and/or painting, and sometimes you get these in sections of chapters which are themselves broken out chronologically. It makes it a little difficult to follow when the chapters discuss which artist was supported by which ruler–I admit I did not take copious notes whilst reading, and so I do not have a solid handle on some of the names and their eras.

Additionally, Durant (or Durants) is (are) Old Left. Which means you get some Marxism mixed into the book, with its attendant glorification of the proletariat (called proletariat and the working people are called proles, for real), denigration of “conservatives,” and even love given to leaders who redistribute wealth–but every time it happens, the system collapses under corruption which the authors blame on the corrupt people and not a system where corrupt people rise to the top. But it’s very subtle, and it only colors the work (red) a little.

Some of the early stuff where there isn’t documentation is a bit speculative, and the more closely that the history comes to Durant’s time, the more it is more current events reporting (and henced colored by his politics). The Durants are quite homers for every civilization–each in this book (and the start of the next) find something superlative for each civilization. Which is encouraging and engaging to read.

I’d wondered what it would be like to read a Chinese history written before the Communist revolution, and this one fits. To be honest, I don’t see a whole lot of difference, though. It talks about the Revolution, but it does not mean the Communist revolution–it means the revolution that overthrew the Manchu (Qing) dynasty, which ended in 1912. That is to say, within twenty-some years of the book’s writing. Living memory. The last imperial dynasty was closer to this book than the Clinton administration is to today (and more so true if you’re reading this in the archives and not in August of 2023). That’s an interesting perspective.

Which leads me to pop off with a couple of other footnotes of events that occur after this book is written that affects the areas the book covers:

  • India becomes independent.
  • Israel becomes a Jewish nation.

The book ends with a “book” on Japan and with a section questioning whether the United States and Japan absolutely had to go to war. Whether or not we had to, we did, and that was a long time ago. Ninety years on, and we’re looking at a new dynasty in China which might be losing its grip and a regime in the United States that might be losing its grip and might pen a piece Must the United States and China go to war? But this would be commentary on current events, not history, not even the first draft of history, but rather what concerns learned men have today and not actual events that have unfolded.

Fortunately, the further volumes in the set deal with ages in Western and European civilization, so we won’t get too much more commentary except for the Old Left flavor.

So I’m on my way, and if I read two volumes of the set per year, I’ll finish in…. 2028. Although that’s discouraging–I’m getting to the age where I wonder if I won’t finish before five years from now–it’s a project I’ve undertaken, and I’m proud to have started. I’m also excited enough about it that I’ve bored people talking about Chinese history at the only party I’ve attended in recent history. So I guess it’s for my own enjoyment and amusement. And yours, gentle reader, and you can think I’m doing it all for you if you would like.

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I Passed Over One of His Records Just Last Night

But not tonight.

Branson, Mo., music community mourns the loss of legendary performer Shoji Tabuchi

Shoji’s After Hours was facing out, that is, in one of the record shelves at the right most position where the record is sort of visible. I tend to go from right to left when looking through the albums so I can see the fronts, and I passed over Shoji last night in favor of some Liona Boyd and a George Benson/Earl Klugh collaboration (called Collaboration for some reason).

But tonight we’ll listen to it.

I have one or two of his other records lost in the stacks.

Tabuchi was born in Japan during World War II, and as a young violinist, he heard a show by Roy Acuff, and he (Shoji) fell in love with country fiddle, so he came to the US and perfected it and eventually bought a theatre in Branson to perform there. My beautiful wife and I saw him once, many years ago. He was a staple of the Branson scene for 30 years, and it seemed as though he would go on performing forever. Perhaps he is.

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Flipping the Game

In the olden days, we used to say you’d “flipped it” when you scored enough points on a video game to overrun its maximum score and start over at 0. I remember spending more than one afternoon playing Asteroids on an Atari 2600 to accomplish this feat. Time was slower in the 1980s, or the days were longer, but playing a repetitive game for hours just to see the score restart as though you’d just started playing–try to explain that to a young person today.

It looks like television meteorologists have done something similar.

The temperatures–no, sorry, the invented temperatures of the “heat index”–will be so hot this weekend that they have gone to the opposite side of the rainbow, from the red to the violet, where they will presumably at 120 degrees or so move into the blue like it was cold.

Although to be honest, it has not gotten to 120 degrees that I recall. Over 110 a time or two. But never all the way back to blue.

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Movie Report: Step Brothers (2008)

Book coverWell, this is another film in the Ferrelverse, and a 21st century film at that. I watched it without my boys even though they tend to favor Will Ferrell movies.

At any rate, the film deals with two forty-year-old manchildren, played by Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly, whose single parents meet and marry, making the, what, protagonists (Are you kidding me? We have to use that word for their characters?) as step-brothers. And they have childish spats until they discover their similar interests, when they team up for something childish, and then they have another falling out. There’s a subplot about Ferrell’s character’s younger, more successful, brother who acts as a foil for his childishness, and the younger brother’s wife who is crazy hot for the Reilly character for some reason. At the end, they all reconcile.

But they do not grow up.

I guess that’s why I prefer Adam Sandler films rather to Will Ferrell films. The Adam Sandler characters tend to start out boyish–okay, immature and grating–but they’re called to some cause outside themselves, and they grow up over the course of the film. Whereas Ferrell characters do not. The denouement is that the father of the family puts the boat that the boys wrecked into a tree as a treehouse for them to play in, and their love interests accept their, erm, foibles. So, yeah, not much inspiration to be found in this film.

A product of its time, right down to the George W. Bush quote that appears on the screen at the beginning of the film. C’mon, man, kids today don’t identify George W. Bush as the boogeyman anymore.

I cannot say that I will never again watch a Will Ferrell film–I mean, some of them which were a bit more topical had their moments–but overall, probably more of a marker of our decline than funny.

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My Brain’s Conspiracy Lobe Says….

Major League Baseball has commanded teams to pitch to Ohtani just to keep the Babe Ruth comparisons coming and to excite people and perhaps the Japanese market about Major League Baseball.

I’m not sure if it’s the world we live in or me in it that is getting even more suspicious and cynical. I would have thought it impossible, but here we are.

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