Category Archives: Aging

Another Beautiful Day. Bah.

Imbolc                                                Woodpecker Moon

Another beautiful day. Yes.  But.  What dark forces work to push the boundaries of weather around like so many children’s blocks, a lego castle on wheels rolling north, careening over everything in its wake?  As I hope I’ve said here before, efforts to control global warming are NOT about saving the planet.  The planet will keep on whirling around the sun as long as gravity and spacetime remain.  Well, not quite, there is that whole red giant business, but it’s a really long time from now.

No, good ol’ h. sapiens will catch the fever.*  Of course, those with an eye to irony or just desserts might not see this a totally uncalled for solution; but, hell, I love our funny two-legged species, roaming around making babies, art, war, sport, roombas, nailguns and rainbow ponies.  What will the universe do for a laugh when we’re gone?

Fans of schadenfreude will rejoice.  Though whether one can be very schadenfreudie when you’re baking along with the ones responsible for delaying action, I don’t really know.

So, as a paid up member of the northern European gene pool, I’m tellin’ you it’s no wonder I’m melancholy.  The world is going to hell in a Hummer, not a handbasket.

 

*Scientific American

LONDON (Reuters) – Global greenhouse gas emissions could rise 50 percent by 2050 without more ambitious climate policies, as fossil fuels continue to dominate the energy mix, the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) said on Thursday.

“Unless the global energy mix changes, fossil fuels will supply about 85 percent of energy demand in 2050, implying a 50 percent increase in greenhouse gas emissions and worsening urban air pollution,” the OECD said in its environment outlook to 2050.

The global economy in 2050 will be four times larger than today and the world will use around 80 percent more energy.

But the global energy mix is not predicted to be very different from that of today, the report said

An Unlikely Flag Waver

Imbolc                                                      Woodpecker Moon

I remain unmoved by the current Presidential race.  The fracas swirls somewhere below the level of America’s current malaise.  No one, Obama included, looks like they have a clue.

There’s an old phrase I learned long ago:  how you define is how you solve.  That seems to be the problem.  How do you define the American weltanschung?  How do you define the root causes of our (apparent) decline?

Let me take a side trip while we consider those questions.  There have been two prominent books on child rearing of late:  Tiger Mother and Bringing Up Bebe.  One extols what the author defines as the Chinese way and the other, the French way.  These are seen as antidotes to the current state of child rearing practices here.

(Rearing children is a funny thing.  On the one hand my pediatrician wife thinks there should be a license exam before people get to be parents.  Plenty of evidence to support such a notion.  On the other hand there was my basic attitude to child rearing:  billions, literally billions of children, have been reared by people who had no formal knowledge of child rearing.  And the vast bulk of those kids survived into adulthood, so I figured I could do it.)

So, I’m waiting for the American Way.  You know, the book about raising an American child. Why?  Because we have an acknowledged knack for raising innovators, creators, scholars.  And you know what?  We got that reputation using the clunky, clanky old education system we had, even the one we had back in the long ago day when I was a student.

What I’m trying to say here is that we know how to do stuff.  Important stuff.  In our child rearing, in our educational system, in our economic system, in our political system.  In our military, too, for that matter.  We’re not world beaters at everything, no nation ever was, nor will ever be.

It is ironic in the extreme that this latter day radical critic of Amerika and our war in Vietnam would take up the banner of his country, wave the flag, not necessarily of our government, but the flag that represents this real place.  A place where we argue about immigration all the while we take in many, many immigrants.  A place where we argue about the failings of our education system while continuing to crank out the Zuckerburgs, Gates, Jobs types.  The David Wallace, Jonathan Franzen and Christopher Hitchens types. 333 Nobel laureates including:

  1. Christopher A. Sims, Economics, 2011
  2. Thomas J. Sargent, Economics, 2011
  3. Saul Perlmutter, Physics, 2011
  4. Brian P. Schmidt, Physics, 2011
  5. Adam G. Riess, Physics, 2011
  6. Ralph M. Steinmanborn in Canada, Physiology or Medicine, 2011
  7. Bruce Beutler, Physiology or Medicine, 2011

The modern feminist movement had its European roots, of course, but look at what Betty Freidan and Gloria Steinham and that whole movement of women accomplished.

Consider the global impact of the US work of Martin Luther King.

Consider this, too.  All the people I’ve named here lived or are living during my lifetime.

Chuck Close, Siha Armajani, Mark Rothko (immigrant), Albert Einstein (immigrant), Morris Lewis, Andy Warhol, Claus Oldenberg, Robert Indiana.  You add the names that are meaningful to you.

Not to mention athletics.

I mean, come on, for a nation in decline, for an American psyche in freefall, we seem to be doing ok.  Not perfect, not our best, not all we could hope for*, (see the cartoon) but ok.

So, to get back to how you define is how you solve, I would ask this question.  Let’s look at those things that produced all these positive, good, extraordinary people and their life work.  Then, let’s do more of that.

Maybe it’s as simple as writing a book on how to raise an American kid.

*my sense is that we could move the whole public policy/state of the nation debate forward if we would analyze our country in terms of class, first.  That’s the point of the cartoon and I agree with it.  We are failing the working class, would-be middle class.  Badly.

 

 

 

Shadow Line Approaching

Imbolc                                                 Woodpecker Moon

Not sure how serious, but I can feel the clouds rolling in, a definite darkening of the inner horizon.  Missed a call tonight for the Sierra Club legislative committee through some technological foul up.  Maybe on my part.

Sorting through my fear about exposing my writing to the light of day.  I know this needs to change and change can trigger a melancholic episode, too.

Doesn’t have to be reasons when the light begins to dim.  I feel heavy, slow, molasses on the floor, thick curtains to push through.  Could be the unseasonable weather.  I know it seems weird, but I really like the cold and the gradual procession of seasons.  This tempering and sudden switching feels somehow wrong to me.

As I said the other day, I know I can’t change the weather, so adapting to it makes sense.  Enjoy the beautiful day!  Sunshine and warm weather.  What’s not to like?  But a part of me, a strong part, wants March back in late winter.

Or, maybe, I feel this way because I’m becoming melancholic.

The melancholy is a family thing, a genetic inheritance.  The bipolar gene runs in my family, I’ve said it before here.  I’m not bipolar, but I have these melancholic episodes from time to time, sometimes with little or no trigger.

 

The Wide World and Beyond

Imbolc                                                  Woodpecker Moon

A friend, who, like me, recently turned 65, said to me, “I just realized there’s so much to learn.  For example, I don’t know anything about China.”  This is an intelligent, well-read guy.  Hard to imagine someone waking up to the amount of things they don’t know at age 65, but I guess this is a true instance of better late than never.

For some reason this makes me recall those little orange biographies that used to sit in the library, though whether the public or school, I don’t recall.  Not too long, they offered a quick glimpse into famous american’s lives.  The content has either been absorbed or long forgotten, but the world they opened up, a world of people and places I had never experienced, remains.

I mention them because there were so many side streets on the boulevard of learning, some of which I knew well, most poorly, but they were in my consciousness from a very young age.

Another guy, also a friend, said recently that he’d decided if he hasn’t learned it now, he doesn’t need it.  Following that thought he went on to say that he was “giving up introspection.”  In the ensuing explanation it turned out he was really throwing away self-help books, other peoples ways.

In fact, what he was doing was allowing himself to start introspection.  Only when we go into ourselves without a guide, no training wheels, just you and the you you carry along, can we begin to make progress.  The Delphic Oracle said it best, “Know thyself.”

I’ve read people recently who say this is a bad idea, though I forget the arguments right now, but I’ve found it a very good idea.  A project still underway here at chez Ellis.

 

 

Shun Yen and Falun Gong, once more

Imbolc                                    Woodpecker Moon

One more thing about Shun Yen (see below).  Their pitch is that they produce performances that draw on and therefore promote 5,000 years of Chinese culture.  Maybe.  They have dances based on various Chinese myths and legends, like Monkey’s Journey to the West, and on ethnic Chinese communities, but there are also contemporary dance pieces and, scattered throughout something very, very odd.

The contemporary pieces feature a common theme.  Black clad police thugs with red hammer and sickle insignia on their shirts.  They beat senseless the gentle, meditating citizens who hold up a sign that says Falun Dafa is Good.  Yes, Chinese police have beaten Falun Dafa or Falun Gong members and persecuted them.  That’s not at issue here, but, again, I paid $90 a ticket to see several dance numbers that were propaganda against the Chinese government.

There was no balance here, no context, no alerting the audience to the fact that this was their intention.

These vignettes, I think there were four, were not the oddest part of the evening however. Four times during the performance the dancers would remain off stage and a Steinway, a big black concert Steinway, and either a tuxedoed male singer or a formal gown clad female singer, all Chinese, would sing short verses, maybe they were songs, that declared some piece of Falun Dafa dogma.   Continue reading Shun Yen and Falun Gong, once more

Saturday

Imbolc                                   Woodpecker Moon

Did my workout last night so I have Saturday and Sunday free.  Feels very luxurious.  This short burst workout economizes time while maximizing result.  What a deal.

We had our business meeting.  Still tinkering with the budget.  We’ve got the large outline and the big expenses well in hand, now we’re looking at other areas where we spend less per transaction, where the patterns are not yet obvious.  Kate’s learning Excel and grumbling all the way about it, but I can tell she’s proud of her progress.

Kate made pumpernickel bread.  It has molasses, espresso and chocolate among other things.  Who knew?  A moist tasty bread.

I’m feeling good about the start on reimagining.  I want to get a little looser, more free-form with the words and their implications.  Over time certain things will begin to clump together.  Right now, this writing aims toward a presentation on April 1st at Groveland UU.  It is also the first essay of maybe 10-12 that will constitute Reimagining.  At least as I imagine it now.  Ha, ha.

Off to the grocery store.  Using that former exercise time for the common good.

 

Fun? Bah, Humbug

Imbolc                                   Woodpecker Moon

OK, so maybe having the ex on your facebook friends list is odd, but we do share a son and besides, hey we gitta along.  Anyhow she posts a facebook photo of her with her latest guy–who lives, weirdly enough, in Andover not far from us.  She’s dressed as Cher, he’s dressed as Bono.

She looks like she’s having fun.  Then I think, in one of those places it’s not wise to go but who tells the mind what paths it can travel, what do I do for fun?  Ooops.  OK.  Can’t think of anything.  I asked Kate last night what we do for fun.  She couldn’t think of anything either.

OMG.  Dreary northern europeans celebrating the winter solstice with a candle.  That sort of thing.

As I’m wont to do when perplexed, I picked up my bible, my word bible that is, the Oxford English Dictionary (literally the best dollar I ever spent since I got this two volume complete version back when the History Book Club sold them as comeons for new customers) and look up fun.

Once in a while things turn out really well.  There are two entries, one for a noun and one for a verb.  In both cases the 1st, therefore dominant (and occasionally obsolete) definition is:  a cheat, a hoax, a trick.  The other definitions aren’t much better.  2. n.  diversion, amusement, sport jocularity, drollery.  and 2. to make fun or sport, to indulge in fun, to joke. Not much to worry about not having much of, I decided.

Still, I wondered, what about enjoyment or delight?  They’re different.  Delight:  pleasure, joy or gratification felt in a high degree.  Enjoy:  to be in joy or in a joyous state, to manifest joy, exult, rejoice.

Then came the light bulb:  joy 2.b  to experience pleasure, be happy now chiefly to find pleasure in an occasion of festivity or social intercourse.

There’s the smoking gun of extroversion–now chiefly to find pleasure in an occasion of festivity or social intercourse.

In this youth drenched, extroversion drunk country of ours, it’s possible for those of us introverts to lose sight of what delights us, what we enjoy. (admission:  Kate wondered whether we should look at what we enjoy.)

Yes, it’s weird, but Latin delights me.  After a struggle with a verse or a grammatical construction, at that moment when the obfuscation clears, delight.  Planting in the spring.  Caring for the bees.  Travel.  Writing.  Being with the grandkids.  Seeing our kids.  Reading. Playing with and taking care of the dogs and each other.  Art, cinema, jazz.  Quiet moments.

Sounds like a blurb for E-Romance doesn’t it?  So, I’m happy, no delighted, to tell you that Kate and I enjoy many, many things.  But fun isn’t one of them.

 

Here’s Looking At Ye’

Imbolc                                    Garden Planning Moon

Got my self inserted into the Sports Show conversation among MIA docents.  I’ve not had time to check out the catalog or e-mails until today.

My commitment to work at the MIA has kept hold of me, even over the last few weeks where I’ve considered jettisoning it altogether in favor of a more personal, private approach.  Research for this new show and excitement about the Rembrandt and Terra Cotta Warrior show coming up reminded me why I love this work.

It feeds a different part of me than the more masculine, tough-guy, bare-knuckle world of politics.  I’ve had plenty of time with that guy and there are others out there still willing to get in the ring.  I’m stepping back from the political world, at least for now.

But the MIA?  Nope, I’ve decided I love it there, that the work still calls me and so do my friends among the docents.  I’m there to stay.  At least for now.

Dining In Lima, Peru

Winter                                            Garden Planning Moon

Another bit of photoshop work.  This photo in Pizarro’s house in Lima, Peru.

One other odd bit of info.  Tomorrow I go off private health insurance and enter Medicare.  A transition I’m making with this beautiful lady.

Also, look tomorrow for Imbolc posting.

Unchain My TP

Winter                                         Garden Planning Moon

Second (and last of this class) photoshop class tonight.  Boy, is this a complex program and it’s only one in the Creative Suite.  Lot of cool things but they will require a good bit of fiddling with before I get good with them.  A lot of fiddling.

(granddaughter Ruth and lightning)

As I walked to the parking lot from the huge Champlain High School building tonight, it hit me that this is the future for many of us over 65.  Classes, taking up space in buildings occupied by kids during the day.  And what a great deal that we have this kind of learning available.

Last week I used one of the second floor bathrooms.  In the men’s room the toilet paper was on a heavy, padlocked metal chain.  The janitor was there and I asked him about it.  He said you wouldn’t believe the condition of the restrooms at the end of many school days.

Best news.  My cousin Leisa, in a coma for a couple of months following a stroke, has begun to speak.  Stunning and happy news.

A productive day, another 1,500 words on Missing, some tentative stabs at the first essay in Reimagining and a long workout with little knee pain.  Yeah.

Since I’ve shifted to this new work schedule, life seems fuller and busier.  Seems odd, but it’s true.  I guess I’m stuck with an internal engine that will just keep humming along until it can’t work anymore.  There are much worse predicaments.  In fact this may not be a predicament, just life continuing.