misty water-colored memories
-Barbra Streisand
I went to Target the last time I was in Denver and had something interesting happen. I was in the DVD section and fell into a conversation with the man standing next to me. You know how you sometimes make an instant connection with someone you have never met before? It can be so intense that you remember them the rest of your life. I have had that happen a couple of time in my life that I can remember; there was a cab driver in New York and, another time, my sister's neighbor's aunt. I can't explain what it is like, you have either had it happen or you haven't. Well, I felt the same thing with this man.
We stood there talking about movies and the next thing I knew he was telling me how he had a stroke eight months before and that he spent that time period after it re-learning how to walk and talk. I remarked that he was doing very well for someone who had a stroke only eight months earlier. He said he thought so too but one after-effect of the stroke was the fact that he had lost his short term memory. I thought about this for a few seconds and then asked him if he would remember our conversation. He hesitated and then said, "Probably not."
That made me feel sad because I knew he had felt the instant connection and in a short time he would not remember it or me. I didn't want him to forget so instead of smiling politely and saying good-bye I put out my hand and he instinctively took it. Trying to put as much energy and feeling as I could into the handshake I warmly told him what a pleasure it was to meet him. Then I said good-bye and walked away.
Sometimes the body remembers when the brain does not. Maybe, by me touching him, deep in his being he will remember the connection we had. No one wants to be forgotten.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
The Juniper Tree (part six)
In the room sat the father, the mother, and little Marline, at dinner; and the father said, "Oh dear, how light and happy I feel!" "Nay," said the mother, "I am all of a tremble, just as if there were going to be a heavy thunderstorm." But little Marline sat and cried and cried, and the bird came flying, and as he perched on the roof, the father said, "I feel so lively, and the sun shines so deliciously outside, it's exactly as if I were going to see some old acquaintance again." "Nay," said the wife, " I am so frightened, my teeth chatter and it's like fire in my veins;" and she tore open her stays; but little Marline sat in a corner and cried, and held her plate before her eyes and cried it quite wet. Then the bird perched on the juniper tree, and sang--
My mother killed me;
Then the mother held her ears and shut her eyes, and would neither see nor hear; but it rumbled in her ears like the most terrible storm, and her eyes burned and twittered like lightning.
My father grieved for me;
"Oh, mother," said the man, "there is a beautiful bird that sings so splendidly; the sun shines so warm, and everything smells all like cinnamon."
My sister, little Marline,
Then Marline laid her head on her knees and cried away; but the man said, "I shall go out, I must see the bird close." "Oh! do not go," said the woman; "it seems as if the whole house shook and were on fire." But the man went out and looked at the bird.
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
And the bird let the gold chain fall, and it fell just round the man's neck, and fitted beautifully. Then he went in and said, "See what an excellent bird it is; it has given me such a beautiful gold chain, and it looks so splendid." But the woman was so frightened, that she fell her whole length on the floor, and her cap tumbled off her head. Then the bird sang again--
My mother killed me;
"Oh! that I were a thousand fathoms under the earth, not to hear that!"
My father grieved for me;
Then the woman fainted.
My sister, little Marline,
"Ah," said Marline, "I will go out too, and see if the bird will give me something;" and she went out. Then the bird threw the shoes down.
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
Then she was so happy and lively, she put the new red shoes on and danced and jumped back again. "Oh," said she, "I was so dull when I went out, and now I am so happy. That is a splendid bird; he has given me a pair of red shoes."
"Well," said the woman, and jumped up, and her hair stood on end like flames of fire, "I feel as if the world were coming to and end; I will go out too, and see if it will make me easier." And as she stepped outside the door--bang! the bird dropped the millstone on her head and crushed her to death. The father and little Marline heard it, and went out. Then a smoke, and flames, and fire rose from the place, and when that had passed there stood the little brother; and he took his father and little Marline by the hand, and all three were happy and lively, and went into the house to dinner.
The End
And that, my darling children, is why they are called The Brother's Grimm. Now turn off the light and go to sleep.
My mother killed me;
Then the mother held her ears and shut her eyes, and would neither see nor hear; but it rumbled in her ears like the most terrible storm, and her eyes burned and twittered like lightning.
My father grieved for me;
"Oh, mother," said the man, "there is a beautiful bird that sings so splendidly; the sun shines so warm, and everything smells all like cinnamon."
My sister, little Marline,
Then Marline laid her head on her knees and cried away; but the man said, "I shall go out, I must see the bird close." "Oh! do not go," said the woman; "it seems as if the whole house shook and were on fire." But the man went out and looked at the bird.
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
And the bird let the gold chain fall, and it fell just round the man's neck, and fitted beautifully. Then he went in and said, "See what an excellent bird it is; it has given me such a beautiful gold chain, and it looks so splendid." But the woman was so frightened, that she fell her whole length on the floor, and her cap tumbled off her head. Then the bird sang again--
My mother killed me;
"Oh! that I were a thousand fathoms under the earth, not to hear that!"
My father grieved for me;
Then the woman fainted.
My sister, little Marline,
"Ah," said Marline, "I will go out too, and see if the bird will give me something;" and she went out. Then the bird threw the shoes down.
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
Then she was so happy and lively, she put the new red shoes on and danced and jumped back again. "Oh," said she, "I was so dull when I went out, and now I am so happy. That is a splendid bird; he has given me a pair of red shoes."
"Well," said the woman, and jumped up, and her hair stood on end like flames of fire, "I feel as if the world were coming to and end; I will go out too, and see if it will make me easier." And as she stepped outside the door--bang! the bird dropped the millstone on her head and crushed her to death. The father and little Marline heard it, and went out. Then a smoke, and flames, and fire rose from the place, and when that had passed there stood the little brother; and he took his father and little Marline by the hand, and all three were happy and lively, and went into the house to dinner.
And that, my darling children, is why they are called The Brother's Grimm. Now turn off the light and go to sleep.
Monday, February 12, 2007
The Juniper Tree (part five)
And when he had done singing he flew away. The chain he had in the right claw, and the shoes in the left claw; and he flew far away to a mill; and the mill went clipp-clapp, clipp-clapp. And in the mill there sat twenty miller's men; they were shaping a stone, and chipped away hick-hack, hick-hack, hick-hack; and the mill went clipp-clapp, clipp-clapp, clipp-clapp.
Then the bird flew and sat on a lime tree that stood before the mill, and sang-
My mother killed me.
then one left off;
My father grieved for me;
then two more left off and heard it;
My sister,
then again four left off;
little Marline,
now there were only eight chipping away;
Wept under
now only five;
the juniper tree;
now only one;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
Then the last left off, when he heard the last word. "Bird," said he, "how beautifully you sing! let me too hear that; sing me that again."Nay," said the bird (third time), "I don't sing twice for nothing. Give me the millstone, and I will sing it again." "Ay," said he, "if it belonged to me alone, you should have it." "Yes," said the others, " if he sings again he shall have it." Then the bird came down and all the twenty millers caught hold of a pole, and raised the stone up, hu, uh, upp, hu, uh, upp, hu, uh, upp! And the bird stuck his head through the hole, and took it round his neck like a collar, and flew back to the tree and sang--
My mother killed me;
My father grieved for me;
My sister, little Marline,
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
And when he had done singing he spread his wings, and had in his right claw, the gold chain, in his left the shoes, and round his neck the millstone, and he flew far away, to his father's house.
Then the bird flew and sat on a lime tree that stood before the mill, and sang-
My mother killed me.
then one left off;
My father grieved for me;
then two more left off and heard it;
My sister,
then again four left off;
little Marline,
now there were only eight chipping away;
Wept under
now only five;
the juniper tree;
now only one;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
Then the last left off, when he heard the last word. "Bird," said he, "how beautifully you sing! let me too hear that; sing me that again."Nay," said the bird (third time), "I don't sing twice for nothing. Give me the millstone, and I will sing it again." "Ay," said he, "if it belonged to me alone, you should have it." "Yes," said the others, " if he sings again he shall have it." Then the bird came down and all the twenty millers caught hold of a pole, and raised the stone up, hu, uh, upp, hu, uh, upp, hu, uh, upp! And the bird stuck his head through the hole, and took it round his neck like a collar, and flew back to the tree and sang--
My mother killed me;
My father grieved for me;
My sister, little Marline,
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
And when he had done singing he spread his wings, and had in his right claw, the gold chain, in his left the shoes, and round his neck the millstone, and he flew far away, to his father's house.
Friday, February 09, 2007
The Juniper Tree (part four)
The bird flew away and perched upon a Goldsmith's house, and began to sing--
My mother killed me;
My father grieved for me;
My sister, little Marline,
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
The Goldsmith sat in his workshop, and was making a gold chain, when he heard the bird that sat upon his roof and sang; and it seemed to him so beautiful. Then he got up, and as he stepped over the sill of the door he lost one of his slippers; but he went straight up the middle of the street with one slipper and one sock on. He had his leather apron on, and in the one hand he had the gold chain and in the other the pincers, and the sun shone brightly up the street. He went and stood and looked at the bird. "Bird," said he then, "how beautifully you can sing. Sing me that song again. " "Nay," said the bird, "I don't sing twice for nothing. Give me the gold chain and I will sing it you again." "There," said the Goldsmith, "take the gold chain; now sing me that again." Then the bird came and took the gold chain in the right claw, and sat before the Goldsmith, and sang--
My mother killed me;
My father grieved for me;
My sister, little Marline,
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
The Shoemaker heard it, and ran outside the door in his shirt sleeves and looked up at the roof, and was obliged to hold his hands before his eyes to prevent the sun from blinding him. "Bird," said he, "how beautiful you can sing." Then he called in at the door, "Wife, come out, here's a bird; look at the bird; he just can sing beautifully." Then he called his daughter, and children, and apprentices, servant boy, and maid; and they all came up the street, and looked at the bird; oh! how beautiful he was, and he had such red and green feathers, and round about the throat was all like gold, and the eyes sparkled in his head like stars. "Bird," said the Shoemaker, "now sing me that piece again." "Nay," said the bird, "I don't sing twice for nothing; you must make me a present of something." "Wife," said the man, "go into the shop; on the top shelf there stands a pair of red shoes, fetch them down." The wife went and fetched the shoes. "There, bird," said the man; "now sing me that song again." Then the bird came and took the shoes in the left claw, and flew up on to the roof again and sang--
My mother killed me;
My father grieved for me;
My sister, little Marline,
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
My mother killed me;
My father grieved for me;
My sister, little Marline,
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
The Goldsmith sat in his workshop, and was making a gold chain, when he heard the bird that sat upon his roof and sang; and it seemed to him so beautiful. Then he got up, and as he stepped over the sill of the door he lost one of his slippers; but he went straight up the middle of the street with one slipper and one sock on. He had his leather apron on, and in the one hand he had the gold chain and in the other the pincers, and the sun shone brightly up the street. He went and stood and looked at the bird. "Bird," said he then, "how beautifully you can sing. Sing me that song again. " "Nay," said the bird, "I don't sing twice for nothing. Give me the gold chain and I will sing it you again." "There," said the Goldsmith, "take the gold chain; now sing me that again." Then the bird came and took the gold chain in the right claw, and sat before the Goldsmith, and sang--
My mother killed me;
My father grieved for me;
My sister, little Marline,
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
The Shoemaker heard it, and ran outside the door in his shirt sleeves and looked up at the roof, and was obliged to hold his hands before his eyes to prevent the sun from blinding him. "Bird," said he, "how beautiful you can sing." Then he called in at the door, "Wife, come out, here's a bird; look at the bird; he just can sing beautifully." Then he called his daughter, and children, and apprentices, servant boy, and maid; and they all came up the street, and looked at the bird; oh! how beautiful he was, and he had such red and green feathers, and round about the throat was all like gold, and the eyes sparkled in his head like stars. "Bird," said the Shoemaker, "now sing me that piece again." "Nay," said the bird, "I don't sing twice for nothing; you must make me a present of something." "Wife," said the man, "go into the shop; on the top shelf there stands a pair of red shoes, fetch them down." The wife went and fetched the shoes. "There, bird," said the man; "now sing me that song again." Then the bird came and took the shoes in the left claw, and flew up on to the roof again and sang--
My mother killed me;
My father grieved for me;
My sister, little Marline,
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
The Juniper Tree (part three)
Then the mother took the little boy and put him into a box and put it under the almond tree: but little Marline stood by, and cried and cried, and the tears all fell into the box.
Soon the father came home, and sat down to table, and said, "Where is my son?" Then the mother brought in a great big dish of stew: and little Marline cried, and could not leave off. Then the father said again, "Where is my son?" "Oh," said the mother, "he had gone across the country to Mutten; he is going to stop there a bit."
"What is he doing there? and why did he not say good-bye to me?" "Oh, he wanted to go, and asked me if he might stop there six weeks; he will be taken care of there." "Ahh," said the man, "I feel very dull; that was not right; he ought to have wished me good-bye." With that he began to eat, and said to Marline, "What are you crying for? your brother will soon come back." "Oh, wife," said he then, "how delicious this tastes; give me some more!" And he ate till all the broth was done.
Little Marline went to her box, and took from the bottom drawer her best silk handkerchief, and carried it outside the door, and cried bitter tears. Then she laid herself under the juniper tree on the green grass; and when she had laid herself there, all at once she felt quite light and happy, and cried no more. Then the juniper tree began to move, and the boughs spread out quite wide, and then went back again; just as when one is very much pleased, and claps with the hands. At the same time a sort of mist rose from the tree; in the middle of the mist it burned like a fire; and out of the fire there flew a beautiful bird, that sang very sweetly and flew high up in the air; and when it had flown away, the juniper tree was as it had been before. Then little Marline was as light and happy as if her brother were alive still; and went into the house to dinner.
Soon the father came home, and sat down to table, and said, "Where is my son?" Then the mother brought in a great big dish of stew: and little Marline cried, and could not leave off. Then the father said again, "Where is my son?" "Oh," said the mother, "he had gone across the country to Mutten; he is going to stop there a bit."
"What is he doing there? and why did he not say good-bye to me?" "Oh, he wanted to go, and asked me if he might stop there six weeks; he will be taken care of there." "Ahh," said the man, "I feel very dull; that was not right; he ought to have wished me good-bye." With that he began to eat, and said to Marline, "What are you crying for? your brother will soon come back." "Oh, wife," said he then, "how delicious this tastes; give me some more!" And he ate till all the broth was done.
Little Marline went to her box, and took from the bottom drawer her best silk handkerchief, and carried it outside the door, and cried bitter tears. Then she laid herself under the juniper tree on the green grass; and when she had laid herself there, all at once she felt quite light and happy, and cried no more. Then the juniper tree began to move, and the boughs spread out quite wide, and then went back again; just as when one is very much pleased, and claps with the hands. At the same time a sort of mist rose from the tree; in the middle of the mist it burned like a fire; and out of the fire there flew a beautiful bird, that sang very sweetly and flew high up in the air; and when it had flown away, the juniper tree was as it had been before. Then little Marline was as light and happy as if her brother were alive still; and went into the house to dinner.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
The Juniper Tree (part two)
With the second wife he had a daughter; but the child by the first wife was a little son, and was as red as blood and as white as snow. When the woman looked at her daughter, she loved her so much; but then she looked at the little boy, and it seemed to go right through her heart; and it seemed as if he always stood in her way, and then she was always thinking how she could get all the fortune for her daughter; and it was the Evil One who suggested it to her, so that she couldn't bear the sight of the little boy, and poked him about from one corner to another, and buffeted him here, and cuffed him there, so that the poor child was always in fear; and when he came from school he had no peace.
Once the woman had gone into the store-room and the little daughter came up and said, "Mother, give me an apple." "Yes, my child," said the woman, and gave her a beautiful apple out of the box: the box had a great heavy lid, with a great sharp iron lock. "Mother," said the little daughter, "shall not brother have one too?" That annoyed the woman, but she said, "Yes, when he comes home from school." And as she saw out the window that he was coming, it was just as if the Evil One came over her, and she snatched the apple away from her daughter again, and said, "You shall not have one before your brother." She threw the apple into the box and the Evil One made her say, in a friendly manner, "My son, will you have an apple?" and she looked at him wickedly. "Mother," said the little boy, "how horribly you look; yes, give me an apple." Then she thought she must pacify him. "Come with me," she said, and opened the lid; "Reach out an apple," and as the little boy bent into the box, the Evil One whispered to her--bang! she slammed the lid to, so that his head flew off and fell amongst the red apples. Then in her fright she thought, "Could I get that off my mind!" Then she went up into her room to the chest of drawers, and got out a white cloth from the top drawer, and she from the top drawer, and she set the head on the throat again, and tied the handkerchief round so that nothing could be seen; and placed him outside the door on a chair, and gave him the apple in his hand. After a while little Marline came in the kitchen to her mother who stood by the fire and had a kettle with hot water before her, which she kept stirring round. "Mother," said little Marline, "brother is sitting outside the door, and looks quite white, and has got an apple in his hand. I asked him to give me the apple, but he didn't answer me; then I was quite frightened."Go again, said the other, "and if he will not answer you, give him a box in the ear." Then Marline went to the brother and said, "Give me the apple;" but he was silent. Then she gave him a box on the ear, and the head tumbled off; at which she was frightened, and began to cry and sob. "I have knocked my brother's head off;" and she cried and cried, and would not be pacified. "Marline," said the mother, "what have you done? But be quiet, so that nobody may notice it; it can't be helped now; we'll bury him under the juniper tree."
Once the woman had gone into the store-room and the little daughter came up and said, "Mother, give me an apple." "Yes, my child," said the woman, and gave her a beautiful apple out of the box: the box had a great heavy lid, with a great sharp iron lock. "Mother," said the little daughter, "shall not brother have one too?" That annoyed the woman, but she said, "Yes, when he comes home from school." And as she saw out the window that he was coming, it was just as if the Evil One came over her, and she snatched the apple away from her daughter again, and said, "You shall not have one before your brother." She threw the apple into the box and the Evil One made her say, in a friendly manner, "My son, will you have an apple?" and she looked at him wickedly. "Mother," said the little boy, "how horribly you look; yes, give me an apple." Then she thought she must pacify him. "Come with me," she said, and opened the lid; "Reach out an apple," and as the little boy bent into the box, the Evil One whispered to her--bang! she slammed the lid to, so that his head flew off and fell amongst the red apples. Then in her fright she thought, "Could I get that off my mind!" Then she went up into her room to the chest of drawers, and got out a white cloth from the top drawer, and she from the top drawer, and she set the head on the throat again, and tied the handkerchief round so that nothing could be seen; and placed him outside the door on a chair, and gave him the apple in his hand. After a while little Marline came in the kitchen to her mother who stood by the fire and had a kettle with hot water before her, which she kept stirring round. "Mother," said little Marline, "brother is sitting outside the door, and looks quite white, and has got an apple in his hand. I asked him to give me the apple, but he didn't answer me; then I was quite frightened."Go again, said the other, "and if he will not answer you, give him a box in the ear." Then Marline went to the brother and said, "Give me the apple;" but he was silent. Then she gave him a box on the ear, and the head tumbled off; at which she was frightened, and began to cry and sob. "I have knocked my brother's head off;" and she cried and cried, and would not be pacified. "Marline," said the mother, "what have you done? But be quiet, so that nobody may notice it; it can't be helped now; we'll bury him under the juniper tree."
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
The Juniper Tree (part one)
-Anonymous, from Grimm's Fairy Tales (1912)
It is now long ago, perhaps two thousand years, there was a rich man who had a beautiful and pious wife; and they were very fond of one another, but had no children. Still they wished for some very much, and the wife prayed for them day and night; still they had none.
Before their house was a yard; in it stood a juniper tree, under which the woman stood once in the winter peeling an apple; and as she peeled the apple she cut her finger, and the blood dropped on the snow. "Ah!" said the woman, with a deep sigh, and she looked at the blood before her, and was very sad, "had I but a child as red as blood and as white as snow ;" and as she said that she felt quite lively; and it seemed quite as if something would come of it. Then she went into the house; and a month passed, the snow disappeared; and two months, then all was green; and three months, then came the flowers out of the ground; and four months, then all the trees in the wood squeezed up against one another, and the green boughs all grew twisted together, and the little birds sang, so that the whole wood resounded, and the blossoms fell from the trees; then the fifth month had gone, and she stood under the juniper tree, it smelt so sweet, than her heart leaped for joy, and she couldn't help falling down on her knees; and when the sixth month had passed, the fruits were large, and she was quite pleased; and the seventh month, then she snatched the berries and ate them so greedily that she was dreadfully ill; then went the eight month, and she called her husband and cried, and said, "If I die bury me under the juniper tree;" then she was quite easy, and was glad, till the next month was gone: then she had a child as white as snow and as red as blood; and when she saw it she was so delighted that she died.
Then her husband buried her under the juniper tree, and began to cry most violently; a little time, and he was easier; and when he had cried a bit more, he left off; and a little time longer, and he took another wife.
It is now long ago, perhaps two thousand years, there was a rich man who had a beautiful and pious wife; and they were very fond of one another, but had no children. Still they wished for some very much, and the wife prayed for them day and night; still they had none.
Before their house was a yard; in it stood a juniper tree, under which the woman stood once in the winter peeling an apple; and as she peeled the apple she cut her finger, and the blood dropped on the snow. "Ah!" said the woman, with a deep sigh, and she looked at the blood before her, and was very sad, "had I but a child as red as blood and as white as snow ;" and as she said that she felt quite lively; and it seemed quite as if something would come of it. Then she went into the house; and a month passed, the snow disappeared; and two months, then all was green; and three months, then came the flowers out of the ground; and four months, then all the trees in the wood squeezed up against one another, and the green boughs all grew twisted together, and the little birds sang, so that the whole wood resounded, and the blossoms fell from the trees; then the fifth month had gone, and she stood under the juniper tree, it smelt so sweet, than her heart leaped for joy, and she couldn't help falling down on her knees; and when the sixth month had passed, the fruits were large, and she was quite pleased; and the seventh month, then she snatched the berries and ate them so greedily that she was dreadfully ill; then went the eight month, and she called her husband and cried, and said, "If I die bury me under the juniper tree;" then she was quite easy, and was glad, till the next month was gone: then she had a child as white as snow and as red as blood; and when she saw it she was so delighted that she died.
Then her husband buried her under the juniper tree, and began to cry most violently; a little time, and he was easier; and when he had cried a bit more, he left off; and a little time longer, and he took another wife.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Are You Ready For No Football?
And another Super Bowl in the books. This year I was not emotionally invested in the game. I think I have reached football burn out. The football season starts in August (pregames), goes though September to November ("real" games), enters the playoff games in December, and winds-up at the beginning of February with the Super Bowl. By that point I no longer cared.
The game did start off thrillingly with Chicago running the ball back 92 yards for a touchdown on the opening play. It stayed exciting only because the game was being played in a pouring rainstorm. Lots of fumbles causing the ball to exchange hands multiple times. As game progressed the Bears (Chicago) got worse and worse and the Colts (Indianapolis) got better and better ending with the Colts winning. The Colts win must have been bittersweet for their coach Tony Dungy after the death of his son last year. He had a big smile on his face but I could not help thinking about his son and wondering what was going through the man's mind.
As usually the Super Bowl was surrounded by lots of hype with the commercials being talked about long before the players even reached Miami. And that is all it turned out to be, hype, not one of the commercials really grabbed me. None ever came close to the Apple 1984 commercial from Super Bowl XVIII.
Then there was the half-time show, which each year get bigger and bigger. This year the musical act was Prince, the little man with the big talent. At one point he sang, appropriately, Purple Rain. For me that was the best part of the televised game.
I don't know people, I think the Super Bowl has turned into Ikea furniture. Looks good on the surface but underneath it is just particle board.
The best part of the Super Bowl for me in general has always been hanging out with a bunch of people I enjoy being around. That means this year's Super Bowl, like almost all of them, was great.
(Oh, if you haven't heard yet, some people want to make the day after Super Bowl an official holiday like New Year's Day.)
The game did start off thrillingly with Chicago running the ball back 92 yards for a touchdown on the opening play. It stayed exciting only because the game was being played in a pouring rainstorm. Lots of fumbles causing the ball to exchange hands multiple times. As game progressed the Bears (Chicago) got worse and worse and the Colts (Indianapolis) got better and better ending with the Colts winning. The Colts win must have been bittersweet for their coach Tony Dungy after the death of his son last year. He had a big smile on his face but I could not help thinking about his son and wondering what was going through the man's mind.
As usually the Super Bowl was surrounded by lots of hype with the commercials being talked about long before the players even reached Miami. And that is all it turned out to be, hype, not one of the commercials really grabbed me. None ever came close to the Apple 1984 commercial from Super Bowl XVIII.
Then there was the half-time show, which each year get bigger and bigger. This year the musical act was Prince, the little man with the big talent. At one point he sang, appropriately, Purple Rain. For me that was the best part of the televised game.
I don't know people, I think the Super Bowl has turned into Ikea furniture. Looks good on the surface but underneath it is just particle board.
The best part of the Super Bowl for me in general has always been hanging out with a bunch of people I enjoy being around. That means this year's Super Bowl, like almost all of them, was great.
(Oh, if you haven't heard yet, some people want to make the day after Super Bowl an official holiday like New Year's Day.)
Friday, February 02, 2007
It's... GROUNDHOG DAY!
Winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
-Work Without Hope, Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772 - 1834)
Okay, campers, rise and shine, and don't forget your booties 'cause it's cooooold out there today.
-Groundhog Day (1993)
Yep, it's Groundhog Day, which means I will be in front of the TV this afternoon watching Bill Murray and Punxsutawney Phil in the above movie. And, FYI, Phil did not see his shadow this year and that means Phil is predicting an early spring. If only; from Phil's lips to God's ear.
(You can read Phil's official proclamation here.)
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
-Work Without Hope, Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772 - 1834)
Okay, campers, rise and shine, and don't forget your booties 'cause it's cooooold out there today.
-Groundhog Day (1993)
Yep, it's Groundhog Day, which means I will be in front of the TV this afternoon watching Bill Murray and Punxsutawney Phil in the above movie. And, FYI, Phil did not see his shadow this year and that means Phil is predicting an early spring. If only; from Phil's lips to God's ear.
(You can read Phil's official proclamation here.)
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Molly Ivins
You can't ignore politics, no matter how much you'd like to.
(Dallas Morning News / Ryan Donnel)
Reporter and political columnist Molly Ivins died yesterday of breast cancer at the age of sixty-two. Molly's stuff was good, and wickedly funny, and insightful, and, at all times, passionate. Her coverage of George W. Bush was aided by the fact that she went to high school with him. She had covered his political career from the beginning and is the one who came up with "Shrub" and "Dubba" as nicknames for the man.
Some "Molly Quotes" about Bush:
-If you think his daddy had trouble with "the vision thing," wait till you meet this one.
-Everyone knows the man has no clue, but no one there has the courage to say it. I mean, good gawd, the man is as he always has been: barely adequate.
-Let me say for the umpteenth time, George W. is not a stupid man. The IQ of his gut, however, is open to debate. In Texas, his gut led him to believe the death penalty has a deterrent effect, even though he acknowledged there was no evidence to support his gut's feeling. When his gut, or something, causes him to announce that he does not believe in global warming -- as though it were a theological proposition -- we once again find his gut ruling that evidence is irrelevant. In my opinion, Bush's gut should not be entrusted with making peace in the Middle East.
-Last week, I began a sentence by saying, "If Bush had any imagination ..." and then I hit myself. Silly me.
-If, at the end of this short book, you find W. Bush's political resume a little light, don't blame us. There's really not much there. We have been looking for six years.
-The poor man who is currently our president has reached such a point of befuddlement that he thinks stem cell research is the same as taking human lives, but that 40,000 dead Iraqi civilians are progress toward democracy.
-Next time I tell you someone from Texas should not be president of the United States, please pay attention.
Molly was always warning her readers about the consequences of turning complete authority of the running of this country over to our elected officials:
-What you need is sustained outrage...there's far too much unthinking respect given to authority.
-What stuns me most about contemporary politics is not even that the system has been so badly corrupted by money. It is that so few people get the connection between their lives and what the bozos do in Washington and our state capitols.
-Politics is not a picture on a wall or a television sitcom that you can decide you don't much care for.
-I carry no special brief for government...many years of studying the Texas Legislature will disenchant anyone. But if you are put in charge of government, the least you can do is run it well.
-The United States of America is still run by its citizens. The government works for us. Rank imperialism and warmongering are not American traditions or values. We do not need to dominate the world. We want and need to work with other nations. We want to find solutions other than killing people. Not in our name, not with our money, not with our children's blood.
We are the people who run this country. We are the deciders. And every single day, every single one of us needs to step outside and take some action to help stop this war. Raise hell. Think of something to make the ridiculous look ridiculous. Make our troops know we're for them and trying to get them out of there.
- January 11, 2007, her last last column, Stand Up Against The Surge.
Television journalist Mike Leonard said about Ivins death, "We lost one of the greats. It's a big loss for our profession and for columnists in particular."
Amen to that.
New York Times obituary.
Tribute at CREATORS SYNDICATE.
Reporter and political columnist Molly Ivins died yesterday of breast cancer at the age of sixty-two. Molly's stuff was good, and wickedly funny, and insightful, and, at all times, passionate. Her coverage of George W. Bush was aided by the fact that she went to high school with him. She had covered his political career from the beginning and is the one who came up with "Shrub" and "Dubba" as nicknames for the man.
Some "Molly Quotes" about Bush:
-If you think his daddy had trouble with "the vision thing," wait till you meet this one.
-Everyone knows the man has no clue, but no one there has the courage to say it. I mean, good gawd, the man is as he always has been: barely adequate.
-Let me say for the umpteenth time, George W. is not a stupid man. The IQ of his gut, however, is open to debate. In Texas, his gut led him to believe the death penalty has a deterrent effect, even though he acknowledged there was no evidence to support his gut's feeling. When his gut, or something, causes him to announce that he does not believe in global warming -- as though it were a theological proposition -- we once again find his gut ruling that evidence is irrelevant. In my opinion, Bush's gut should not be entrusted with making peace in the Middle East.
-Last week, I began a sentence by saying, "If Bush had any imagination ..." and then I hit myself. Silly me.
-If, at the end of this short book, you find W. Bush's political resume a little light, don't blame us. There's really not much there. We have been looking for six years.
-The poor man who is currently our president has reached such a point of befuddlement that he thinks stem cell research is the same as taking human lives, but that 40,000 dead Iraqi civilians are progress toward democracy.
-Next time I tell you someone from Texas should not be president of the United States, please pay attention.
Molly was always warning her readers about the consequences of turning complete authority of the running of this country over to our elected officials:
-What you need is sustained outrage...there's far too much unthinking respect given to authority.
-What stuns me most about contemporary politics is not even that the system has been so badly corrupted by money. It is that so few people get the connection between their lives and what the bozos do in Washington and our state capitols.
-Politics is not a picture on a wall or a television sitcom that you can decide you don't much care for.
-I carry no special brief for government...many years of studying the Texas Legislature will disenchant anyone. But if you are put in charge of government, the least you can do is run it well.
-The United States of America is still run by its citizens. The government works for us. Rank imperialism and warmongering are not American traditions or values. We do not need to dominate the world. We want and need to work with other nations. We want to find solutions other than killing people. Not in our name, not with our money, not with our children's blood.
We are the people who run this country. We are the deciders. And every single day, every single one of us needs to step outside and take some action to help stop this war. Raise hell. Think of something to make the ridiculous look ridiculous. Make our troops know we're for them and trying to get them out of there.
- January 11, 2007, her last last column, Stand Up Against The Surge.
Television journalist Mike Leonard said about Ivins death, "We lost one of the greats. It's a big loss for our profession and for columnists in particular."
Amen to that.
New York Times obituary.
Tribute at CREATORS SYNDICATE.
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