LARK AND TERMITE: Jane Ann Phillips

This popular novel is set in a small town in West Virgina, a family of lower middle class origins, with the Aunt, a waitress, taking care of her younger sisters two children, Lark, 14 years old, and her younger handicapped brother, Termite, around five, who is not yet able to walk. The story is told through three or four points of view, often retelling the same events through Larks, the Aunts, and finally Termite's point of view. Much of the story tells about how Lark and Termite end up living with their Aunt. One voice that gives the story a male voice is the young Jewish Jazz musician, who falls in love with Lark's mother, then goes off to Korea to fight. We are allowed inside his head, in small doses, throughout the novel, as he tells his story, mostly of his love for his pregnant wife(with Termite), the madness of war, as the Americans flee the North Koreans, and his eventual wounding, a result of trying to save a Korean child. He dies about the same time his son is born. The story mostly revolves around Lark's growing up, wondering about her background, a flood that threatens their home, her gradual awareness of her past, her mother, her father, and the end, where she, Termite, and her next door neighbor boy friend, hop a freight train and head south to Florida, to her mother's house. I found the soldiers reveries a bit boring after a while, especially when you knew he would die. And I did not much like Termites limited perspective, as she tried to get inside the head of a mentally deficient child. Lark and her Aunt's chapters were the most interesting, as we really see what it is like to live in poverty, to depend on earnings from a waitress, and to live in a squalid shack on a flood plane. Despite it all, the people were all touchingly human, except for the diner's owner, a shrewish old women, who fittingly dies, struggling to take back the watch her son gave to Lark's Aunt. She felt that Charlie deserved someone of a higher class. The flood seems to be the main trouble, other than the family mess(by the way, Lark's mother kills herself, after finding our her husband is dead, and making sure her baby boy will be taken care of). Not a lot of optimism in the story but Lark's setting out for Florida leaves one with some hope; maybe she's learned from her family, and will have a decent start in life.

A Weekend at the Lake

It's been a lovely weekend, sunny and cold at night, fairly warm, for this time of the year, during the day. Friday night, instead of going bowling, we made french fries, using the deep fryer, and watched the movie, A Serious Man, a Coen brothers film. It was not the usual Coen brothers, with little overt violence, though their is lots of middle class suffering, I suppose. The film seems set in the early 50's, in a suburb like ....ville, on Long Island, and revolves around a seemingly geekish father, professor, and cuckhold. A black comedy, we must witness his unhappiness and the inanities that seem to befall him, from his wife's asking for a divorce, to the death of her lover in an automobile accident, to the constant bickering of his kids, his uncles invasion of their house and couch (he seems to be be depressed and sexually repressed), to a student who hassles him about a grade, and his nervousness over whether he will get tenure. Small, sometimes annoying things happen to him, and we are not sure whether to laugh or feel sorry for this poor fool, seemingly a magnet for bad luck, or God's sense of humor. The opening line: take all that happens with simplicity offers some guidance I suppose to the fact that life is unpredictable, filled with potholes, mostly, and what can never count on anything. The movie doesn't really end, just stops after he is quietly told he will be happy about the results of the tenure meetings, at the same time, his doctor calls to have him come to his office, to talk about his x-rays. As he hangs up the phone, the film ends, but, we assume, his suffering, man's suffering, with no answers, no guidance, no voice or explanation or God, will continue. It's hard to say I liked the the movie, though I did empathize with the father, as he was a good guy, someone who wanted to be a good father husband, teacher, but it was not to be so. On Saturday morning, we met a group of people to walk through the Elms Flats watershed with the Chautauqua Conservancy Head, John ?. Most of us had snow shoes, though a few had skis. Since there was no path, we had to bushwhack through the woods, and because of the lack of trail, we often found ourselves in holes, 2/3 feet deep, though if you were careful and second in line, you might avoid them. We wandered for about an hour or more, creating a circle, mostly paying attention to the path, to avoiding ruts and tree stumps, not the woods. Occasionally, we would stop to smell the roses, enjoy the quiet, view, trees, and snow, but mostly, we moved on. Everyone, however, seemed to enjoy the trek, as it was sunny, fairly comfortable, and it's always fun to walk in the woods,especially one that seems so untrammeled. We met a couple from Mayville, Jim and Bev Lannon, who seem to have very similar interests to us, with children and grandchildren, living in Ohio. Saturday night we made pork snitzel,with brussel sprouts and salad, and watched a bit of a movie, but then changed back to the Olympics. Evie has gotten into the book, The Help and I was enjoying Lark and Termite, so we decided to read and go to bed earlier than usual. Sunday morning we met Ron and Linda at Dobbins Woods, and I cross country skied while they snow shoed through the woods. Fortunately, there was a nice track to follow, for both skis and snow shoes, so it was an easy hour walk, with sun, snow, and great cypress pines, to create shade, filter the sun, and give the white a nice contrast of green. We then went to Ron and Linda's house, for bloody mary's, egg/italian sausage cassserole, and biscuits, and we ended up talking over the Pitt/Villanova game. They are leaving tomorrow for Pittsburgh, so we won't seem them for a couple of weeks. The afternoon, lazy and delicious, was spent napping, reading, and just taking it easy, as we think about our dinner, Lex's chicken. The sun has just left the lake, no longer lighting the ice, though it certainly is not yet dusk. I can see fishermen still off of Long Point, and a couple of people are actually on the ice throwing around a frisbee. It's that kind of day. This is usually the hour we arrive back in Hudson, and I have to begin getting ready for dorm duty. No more of that, I suppose, as it's amazing to contemplate another week of leisure, doing what we like during the day, and just hanging out. I wonder if I will get tired of this eventually and look for something more serious to do? Time will tell, I guess.

Final Response to Angel in the Whirlwind

It's a miracle that the Revolution succeeded. No wonder the colonies felt that God and right was on their side. How they were ever able to get anything done, with the constant bickering and attempts to bring each other down in Congress, the fact that you had loyalists living alongside patriots, the destruction of the cities and villages, by the British, the violent response by the patriots when the towns were retaken, all suggest the impossibility of any unity after the war. And for awhile it seems, those who sought revenge won out but ultimately, the idea of humanity and mercy allowed most Loyalists to survive, though perhaps a hundred thousand or so fled to Canada. And, it seems, that from a pecuniary point of view, much of the money,business acumen, and connections were in the hands of the loyalists, thus they were need to jump start the economy. It also seems as though once the war was over, the British merchants and business men saw the United States as a huge territory for their goods and factories, thus within a couple of years, many British had returned to make money, as they had before the war. Capitalism flourished and the colonies began to settle down and grow. Washington throughout seemed the reluctant warrior, modest, reserved, seldom given to emotion or the normal tantrums and emotions of most of us. Rarely is he self serving or revengeful; mostly, he's honest, true, and willing to suffer for the idea of a unified states. It's interesting how little role the South played in the Revolution, perhaps already suggesting a difference of belief with the North, although some battles were fought in Georgia and South Carolina. Three men standout, Washington, of course, Franklin, a bit of a fop and gourmet, who seems to have used the money of the Congress for his own aggrandisement as much as for the needs of the military and war though he ultimately was judged a success. John Adams also influenced much of what was going on, from either his role as a member of congress or as a businessman. He has a bit of a curmudgeon about him, always skeptical and ready to criticize others, though his wife Abigail seems to have been less harsh, more willing to see beyond self interest and the moment. Jefferson mostly seems to have been on the periphery, though he comes to prominence when the Constitution is being put together. He is younger than most of the others, and seems not to have been a soldier.

An Education, film

We went to downtown Jamestown yesterday evening, saw An Education, at the Reg Lenna theater, one of the great old theaters that are struggling to survive. Most if not all of the audience was our age, certainly no young kids. It was run by volunteers but was a pleasant enough experience, once the sound was set properly. We ate at Taco Hut, just across the street from the theater, a decent, very crowded Mexican restaurant, seemingly popular with the young, families, as well as the pre theater crowd. It was nice to see a crowded restaurant in Jamestown for once. My chicken quesadilla was quite filling, tasty, and Evie got tacos. The movie, AN EDUCATION was interesting as well, wonderfully acted, set in London in 1961, as young Jenny is aiming for Oxford, the star of her all girls school. As she returns from music practice, a young man offers her a ride, and charms her with his easy charm. He must be in his late 20's or early 30's, she's sixteen, shy, inexperienced, knowing only the narrow small world of her parents apartment and school. David and friends, as we find out, are hip, jazzy, seemingly wealthy, and they introduce Jenny to an amazing world of high society, clubs, travel, and art, even going off to Paris for a weekend. Of course, Jenny is bowled over, enough to overlook the fact that they are at heart,con men, taking advantage of the elderly(stealing paintings), and deliberately renting to blacks to buy the cheapened real estate as a result of white flight. The dilemma for Jenny is whether to marry David(he proposes)on her 17th birthday or stay in school and go to Oxford. The other part of the story revolves around her father, amusing and often a know it all, constantly complaining about money, about the cost of school, and Oxford. He is easily taken in by David, his charm, his wealth, his car, and slowly allows David to do as he wants with Jenny, taking her to Oxford, even to Paris for a weekend. He conveniently believes she will be staying with David's aunt. The climax is reached as they all go off in David's snazzy car to celebrate the wedding proposal. David stops for gas and Jenny innocently looks in the glove compartment for a cigarette but finds letters addressed to Mr. and Mrs. David Bergman(for some reason, it's clear he is Jewish). Jenny immediately leaves the car, refuses to tell her parents what's up, and gives David the choice of telling her parents he is married. He leaves, without saying a word, and she tells her parents what's transpired. The last twenty minutes involve her attempts to rebuild her educational world, and though she is turned down by the headmistress, when she asks for another year, she is saved by the somewhat dour English teacher whom she made fun of for her dull, boring insignificant life. Because of this teacher's support, she crams for the year, passes her exams, and gets into Oxford, a happy ending of sorts. The major interest is the choice she makes early on, to give up the traditional life, as she sees it, of working, studying, and getting an education for the life of the moment, spontaneous, filled with adventure, change, even the sense of being bad. They way the movie is set up, it's easy to see why, at sixteen, she prefers David and a life of thrills. It's only when she is let down that she and we see the truth, that there are no easy roads, and if there are, they are likely mirages or ephemeral. Looking back, her precociousness seems a bit stretched, especially how easy she is accepted by David's older and chic friends; after all, in the beginning she is but a douty school girl, though by the end, she has become a woman(lost her virginity and dreams. Ultimately, it was a pleasing, even interesting movie, mostly because of Jenny, her father, and David. The father's apology to his daughter, towards the end, for letting his guard down, and his confession that fear has guided most of his life, and all he wanted for her was to be able to avoid this fear, is the most touching in the film.

Two Days with Linda and Rich

Linda and Rich came up on Tuesday, arriving around noon. Fortunately, the roads were fine so they had no trouble getting here. We did get snow, about 7 inches that night, but they did not leave till Thursday morning, when the roads were clear once again. At the same time we have had mild snow, both Washington and Pittsburgh have had massive snow storms, record setting in fact, so that Ellen and Wally have been housebound for four or five days, as has Linda and ron in Pittsburgh. And here we sit, in snow country, with very little snow over the last four weeks, just snow flurries on and off each day, though little build up. Evie made Thai coconut soup for lunch, with pot stickers, and we had rack of lamb for dinner, both excellent and easy to make, at least if you get some things done ahead of time. We did go for a walk at Bemus in late afternoon, sliding down the bank, to walk on the lake. We were out for only 20 minutes but at that hour, as the sun is beginning to set, the lake takes on an interesting hue of gray and white, and it just feels good to be out on the lake, breathing in the cold air, getting some exercise. We went to the Seezurh for a 75 cent beer, then went home to our lamb dinner. The next morning Evie made a German Apple Pancake for breakfast, along with eggs and bacon, and it was really quite good, especially if you put maple syrup on it. We then went for a walk in the Institution, and it was like walking through a cathedral, as all the trees were dripping with snow, creating neat ceilings as we walked. We went as far as the bookstore, going up and down streets, and again, it was great to get out in the cold air. We went back to the Seezurh for lunch, though it was disappointing, especailly the chili and beef on wick. At least the beer was cheap. We went hope, relaxed till about 4:00 and then went out to cross country ski for an hour. I think it wore Rich out because he woke up the next morning very sore. We made Chicken Kiev, and Rich helped Evie pound out the breasts, and put together the chicken. Unfortunately, most of the butter escaped so the Kiev was not as good as we had thought, though the pilav was really good. For dessert we had lemon coconut pie and baklava, both made by Evie before they came. Rich seemed really tired after dinner, perhaps because of a couple of mannies, and we all went to bed early. Evie and I were up early the next morning; Linda and Rich got up around 7:45 and by 8:30 they were off for Cleveland. I think they enjoyed their stay and we surprised a bit by the things we ended up doing. I think Rich thought they would be bored, just sitting around and staring out of the window. Most people think this because they don't really take advantage of the outdoors, treating it as verboten, be we, because we are 'irrationally happy,' revel in it. After they left, we went off toe Dobbins Woods, a preserve about ten minutes from our house. It was amazing, as a fresh snow had fallen, and the pines were weeping with lofts of snow, creating an amazing trail of trees, snow, and animal tracks. The sun came out, sparkling the snow, and we were out in about 40 minutes, though enough. We went home, worked on the slides, and later in the afternoon, I mailed them off to Fotobridge, returned in time to cross country ski for an hour, then we had cocktails, chicken parm, watched some tv and went to bed. This morning, Friday, we went off to Long Point, and again, it was really beautiful, as I skiied and Evie snow shoed through the woods. We went on a couple of new trails, Evie did some bush whacking, so we were out for over and hour. We came home to BLT's, a brief nap, then more skiing on the lake, this time we both had our ipods and it was fun. When you have a good song, you feel like you can really cruise. Unfortuantely, some of the tracks were wet, as the snow seems to insulate some of the lower layers, so they can be wet, which freezes on your skiis making it very difficult to slide. I had to clean off Evie's skiis at least once. Tonight we are going shopping, then eating at Taco Hut, before seeing the movie ON EDUCATION at the Rex Lenna theater on third street in downtown Jamestown. Finally, I just received an email from Ekber, thanking me for the kind words about their book; he said they liked it so much, it was so accurate, they may use it on the backcover of the next edition. That was nice.

MAPS OF ISTANBUL: Haritarlari-1422-1922

Yesterday, to my surprise and delight, I received a copy of Maps of Istanbul, Haritalari, 1422-1922, from Egber And and Selmin Akar, two friends from Turkey, and former students of mine from Robert College, class of 73' and 74.' When I was in Istanbul this past October, 09', Egber was putting the finishing touches on this amazing book, and even then, I knew it would be a spectacular edition. But having quickly leafed through it yesterday, it has even surpassed my expectations. First, the book itself is extraordinarily packaged, with a sturdy book sleeve, to keep the cover in good shape. The colors of the cover, greens, reds, ivory and purple, of one of the maps give a good idea of what's inside, spectacularly beautiful maps. reproduced so it almost seems as if you are looking at the originals. And though it's published in Turkey, all of the Turkish text is parallel by English on the opposite side, no doubt increasing the audience for this book, as it should. The book begins with interesting introductions to the putting together of this work, a brief history of the city, and then commentary on each of the maps, thus it's much more than a map, almost a history of the city but gives 'voice' to the almost 500 maps. I have read the various introductions, interesting in themselves, but look forward with relish to systematically going through the book, a couple of maps and annotations at a time, and hopefully writing about them in this Blog, mostly for my own edification but also to record a reading of this marvelous text. I cannot say enough about the generosity of my two good friends, Egber and Selmin. They knew I would cherish this book, thus I am one of the first, no doubt, in the States to get his hands on this book.

THE VISITOR , A Film

The Visitor is a wonderful film, though many Americans may be put off by the leisurely fashion of the film. Increasingly, I am convinced that films that develop the main character, are able to realistically explain his change, are the essentials of a good film. Like the The Band Visits, not much happens in this film; it has various themes, the growth of the main character, a introverted professor(who has never gotten over the death of his wife), the difficulties of illegal immigrants in this country(in this case a Syrian and Senegalese), a group that elicits little sympathy from most people, and the law, which in the abstract makes sense but when applied to the individual, it's often lacking in common sense and humanity. In this case, the professor finds this couple living in his New York apartment, apparently they had rented it from a friend, but were ripped off. At first upset, the professor, however, uncharacteristcally, offers to let the couple stay for a couple of days. The days turn into a week, as the Syrian's drumming(He's part of a Jazz Group), interests the professor(Walter), then it becomes his passion, a symbol no doubt of letting go the past, of giving oneself up to the flow, spontaneity, not caring what others say. The Syrian,unluckily, is stopped by the police, who find out his status, put him in jail, and ultimately deport him. Before his unexpected deportation, Walter gets him a lawyer, visits him in jail, offers him hope, and, when the Syrian's mother arrives to find out what happened to her son, he allows her to stay in his apartment, and slowly, the two find each other, have a brief relationship, which ends when she decides she must go back to Syria to be with her son. Nothing is answered...what happens to the son,his wife, the mother, Walter. It's left up to us decide. But we do know that Walter has changed, that he has rediscovered his humanity, and he most likely will not return to his teaching, a kind of death in life for him. Wonderful performances by all four characters, so very different yet compelling and charming. Only Walter seems to change; everyone else seems more centered, and the young Syrian drummer, is really charming and pulls Walter out of his depression and funk, with his drumming and easy acceptance of Walter as a friend. This is the kind of movie I love, about a serious theme, whether individual or general, great character development, and wonderful, apt acting and peformances.

Angel in the Whirlwind

I am about two thirds of the way through this history of the American Revolution, a slow read but it has its moments. Right now the battle for the North is a stalemate, with the British in New York City, the Americans most of the rest of the Northern states. It' strange that everything seems to stop in the winter, few battles, mostly a time to either build up your forces, or in Washington's case, work at keeping the troops, getting more, and trying to pry money out of Congress, a difficult task. It made Washington see the necessity of a strong central government. The winters were either terrible, with little to eat, wear, or shelter, mostly for the Americans, or it was a fairly enjoyable time, of plays, balls, parties, getting laid, especially for the Brits. The amount of extravagance of the British generals, what they brought with them, is unimaginable. Burgoyne had 30 wagons of his stuff, to keep his life style. Washington, in contrast, seems to be a model of moderation, in all things, and he is to be much admired, not only by his troops and compatriots, but by the modern reader. Without a man of his quality, it's doubtful the States could have won. A good part of the reading reminds me of the present; many are making loads of money off the army, caring little about the outcome. These profiteers drew the most abusive quotation from Washington. I wonder what he would think of the military industrial complex of today, the way it's ingraciated itself into our government. The other thing that's interesting and troubling is the antagonism between the various leaders, whether in Congress or the military. Clearly, self interest, ambition, and power trump all the other necessary virtues. I assume if the same thing is true about the modern power brokers in both the mlitary and government. Finally, it would be difficult to live during this period, if you were a patriot or just a simple folk. You would be pulled in both directions, risking all with your decision, cutting yourself off from half of your peer group by your actions, and, depending on which army is winning, you risk the destruction of your home/property and family, or being deemed a traitor and hung. It was similar in Istanbul when we left in 77'. Either you had to join the leftists or the conservative Muslims, and it was not possible to remain neutral.

Super Bowl Sunday

It's hard to believe 100 million will be watching this game, and we will be two of them, though not at a party, just the two of us. I wanted roasted chicken, to that's what we are having, after looking at various recipes, combining them, and coming up with something we like. This one has air dried for 24 hours and it's cooked surrounded by lemons, garlic, white wine and some chicken stock, which will make the gravy. I cannot wait though I have been eating like a King recently; yesterday, I finished up the baklava Evie made for our dinner with the Redington's on Friday, and in her spare time, she also made sutlac, my favorite pudding, then I mentioned I wanted oatmeal cookies, so after our walk today at the Institution, she made me some oatmeal cookies, with raisins and walnuts...they are sinful. It's a sunny day, somewhat unusual for this area, and the lakes has been busy, with at least 30-40 tents out off Long Point yesterday, Saturday, though fewer today. Lots of snow mobiles as well, carving up the virgin snow, and Theissens were up with their kids(Kurt) and they had three four wheelers, so the kids literally destroyed the snow, making it look like something out of NASCAR but they sure had a great time, pushing around snow, trying to snowboard behind the carts, and just having fun. What happened to sledding and snowball fights? Friday we had Redington's over for dinner, a couple we had not really talked with much, other than Wegmans, for twenty years, when there son Rick and daughter Casey went to Reserve. Both are retired, happily it seems, and it was fun to talk with them, though we mostly listened as Caran is quite a talker. Most of the stories were about their kids, all of whom seem to be at odds with their jobs, especially Ricky, who is being 'picked on' by his principal and is struggling, so it sounds, to keep his contract. Like us, they seem to organize their life around their kids, especially Casey in CT, who has two grandchildren. They are off to Florda in a week, staying onf Sanibel for a week, then with Caran's mother. I think we will enjoy them occasionally, probably not be great friends, but friends. Dick goes out to breakfast with Stan and two other Institute buddies, so he enjoys being social, whereas Caran seems very involved in her church, especially a group called Age and Sage. Both Marshaus's and Redington's are very involved in their churches, though Dick and Caran are very liberal in their politics, and I doubt Stan and Anne are, though I don't know for sure. The baklava and tea were the hit of the night. Thursday we watched the movie Rendition, an attempt to be serious about torture, terrorism, and government policies. Although it was not riveting, it was decent. Reese Witherspoon's husband, an Egyptian, is taken as he gets off a flight, whisked to CIA headquarters, and then, because he won't admit to being a terrorist, he sent to Northern Africa, for rendition. There the second and third stories pick up, with one revolving around a rookie agent, Jake G., who already seems to be uncomfortable with his position, especially after his boss is killed in a terrorist attack. The third story is about the terrorist, who blows up the CIA chief, his girl friend, her family, especially her father, who is head of the local police. He collaborates with the CIA, which is why he was the target of the bombing. We see what leads up to the bombing, and only at the end do we realize it's already happened at the beginning of the movie, given it a sense of circularity. Reese's husband, after being tortured and waterboarded, is finally pulled out of prison by the caring Jake G., despite the protests of the conscienceless Arabs, of course, who see nothing wrong with these actions. A bit of Jack Bauer, with a heart, and though the husband returns home, the young Muslim girl and her terrorist boy friend die, manipulated, as we see, by what I assume are Al Queada look alikes, who prey on the young and passionate, sending them to their death and reunion with Allah and other matyrs and hourris, no doubt. Finally, we walked the Institute this morning, an icy jaunt though with our stablizers and walking poles we were fine. The wind, however, was fierce when we headed north along the lake so we had to head back in the streets, where the win was not so severe. Then, after breakfast and some TV((Paul Johnson was on CSPAN for 3 hours), we went cross country skiing to Tom's Point, on a brillantly white surface, blue sky, with a yellow airplane buzzing overhead. We were the only ones on our part of the lake, other than a few snowmobilers who raced by, so it was great exercise and good to be out on such a beautiful day.

A Typical Day

I woke early though not as early as usual, around 7:00, turned on the coffee and went out side just in time to have the paper thrown at me, unbeknowest to the paper man. It was funny, and he laughed an apologized for not having seen me. The Post Journal can be read in about five minutes but I give it more time, starting with the obituaries, always, because there are maybe five or six a day, in contrast to the Plain Dealer which has 50 to 100 a day. Most of them are in their eighties, have grown up and lived in Jamestown all their life. Most have worked at blue collar jobs, on farms, or if a woman, in some form of service. All are active in their churches or other organizations, whether Moose, American Legion, or church. Then on to the conservative columnists, usually, although Mark Shields appears once a week. This is a very conservative areas for the most part, though I hope the younger people aren't so set in their ways. Lots of stories having to do with anything in the area, from top students, to club meetings, to awards, to meetings, to what is happening that day. The sports page is filled with high school sports, almost all white kids, which is such a contrast to Cleveland. The area teams are surprisingly good, having won championships in football and basketball within the last couple of years. I went to a local game last week, Maple Grove, which won both football and basketball last year. They have a highly recruited kid and he was fun to watch, though they lost in the last second. It cost a buck to get in, a surprise to say the least. After the newspaper, I have my breakfast of cup up oranges and grapefruit, then yogurt with oatmeal/flax mix, trail mix, and frozen blue berries. Not much hurry as Evie is usually in the kitchen, getting ready for the day, usually of baking something, either cookies for the kids or Drew, or bread, pizza, something good. I pots around, though over the past few days I have been busy organizing close to 1500 slides, quite a task. I want to get them digitalized, so they will be around forever, as if any other than the family might care. We then headed to Lakewood, shopped at Brigiottas, Aldi's and Wegmans, spending close to 150 bucks, and we didn't buy at meat. It's amazing how the bill adds up and he were certainly are not extravagant though we tend to buy anything if it's for our grandchildren, Brigiotta's is a local Italian market, which is fun to go to since it's nice to support local businesses, and it's usually filled with golden agers like us. After lunch, a brief nap, during Stephen Colbert, we went to the doctors office in Mayville, to get my tb test checked; of course, it took 15 minutes in the waiting room for the nurse to spend 30 seconds with me. The good side is there is a great trail, called the Portage Path, just on the other side of the street, across from the Mayville Clinic. We cross country skied for close to an hour, on a well groomed path(by snowmobiles, no doubt), but it's all woods, though on either side signs continually remind us of private property. I am not sure how far it goes, but we enjoyed it, though a few snowmobiles fumes tended to mitigate our 'irrational happiness.' The trail itself is quite flat so it's an easy ski for our inexperience and because its groomed, we were able to move fairly easily. We then headed home, arriving at 5:30 and here I sit, writing this as Evie gets dinner ready, as well as cookies for Valentines Day. I am cooking burgers out tonight and we will watch the movie Rendition as long as its not too violent. A typical day.

Irrational Happiness

A term used in the local paper to describe a love of this cold gray winter day, describes pretty well the way we too feel about the winter. There's a certain gray I love, the kind that seems to hold snow in the sky, though it's not so thick you cannot see through it. Some days, especially when it starts to warm up, are pretty depressing, as the whiteness turns to gray or black, depending on how much sand was used on the roads. Then, the term might better be 'bring on the summer,' though we don't really mean it, as we continue to hope for another dusting of snow if not a full fledged storm. Today, we went off to Dobbs Woods, about 15 minutes from here, a Chautauqua Conservancy Preserve that has a lovely loop through mostly pine woods and maple. When its snowed, as it did last night, it's like walking or snow shoeing through a cathedral, as the pine branches, heavy with snow, often hang over the path, giving you a good dusting, often down your back, if you are not careful. Today was perfect, a slight path to lead the way, a couple inches of new snow, marred only by animal tracks, mostly deer, but probably some coyotes, squirrels, rabbits and fox although I am not sure. We did not see a soul, nor an animal. It was quiet like most cathedrals in Europe, empty too, though we could occasionally hear a car on the Nye Hill Road. We talked little, just enjoying the going, the cold, the quiet, the solitude, and the beauty of the landscape. Momentarily, I though we might have sun but was fooled, just another color of gray, the winter sky most of the time in the Chautauqua area. We came back to Evie's vegetable soup, sandwiches made from left over pizza dough. I spent most of the day organizing slides and sipping Turkish tea. It's nice to be able to work in my upstairs den, listen to Sirius on my computer or POD and do something useful. I am still have trouble sitting down and reading for any great amount of time, as I am not yet used to this life of leisure, of not having to do anything. Setting aside an hour each morning and afternoon for a walk, cross country ski, or snow shoe trims my day and in between, I try to get something done of significance. Lunch is always as 1:00, so I can watch The Daily Show and Stephen Colbert; invariably, I fall asleep for about ten minutes in the middle of Colbert, wake up in time to catch the guest. It's almost like clockwork. It's about 4:00 and we want to get some cross country skiing in before we settle down for drinks at 6:00, a nice time to anticipate. The sky has lost its gray brightness, as it's already beginning to darken a bit, either from the sun setting or the clouds. I really enjoy going out on the lake late, just before dusk, as its a very different sort of place, with a slight glow from the West, lighting up the snow and ice, either with a warm orange if its bright or just a luminous white if it isn't.

Reflections on ANGELS IN THE WHIRLWIND

I have been wanting to read this history of the American Revolution after Matt Donovan had mentioned it maybe ten or fifteen years ago. I have to admit it's slow going, though it may be my current lack of interest in reading, which troubles me. Perhaps I am just at loose ends or I need a goal, something to work toward. Anyways, the book ebbs and flows, as does my interest. I get tired of the battles, as it's difficult to separate one from another, to tell where the troops are, things like that. But the description of the difficulties faced by the Revolutionary army, the Congress, and its leaders is the most interesting part. First, I was surprised at how difficult it was to raise an army; Washington could never be sure of how many men he would have; most were there for money, for only a certain amount of time, and they might go home at any time, without much regard for the success of the campaign. Thus, it was a constant battle for Congress and the leadership to get enough men into uniform, let alone train them, and keep them happy. The conditions described in the most recent battle, for Trenton, emphasized the arduous task these men faced, all night marches, little food, terrible clothes, perhaps not even boots, cold, rain, mud, and then, after all of this, they were expected to fight an army much larger usually, better prepared, and well equipped. That they were able to succeed, to win battles, to outfight and out last the British seems like a miracle. Never, or so it seemed, was Washington confident of his success; he constantly complains, wishing he were back in Virginia. Much of his complaint resulted from the jealousy that other generals exhibited toward him, refusing to do what he asked, even risking the success of various compaigns if it meant making him look bad, them good, How petty man seems, in his lust for power and fame, yet how marvelous too, that these farmers and shopkeepers could somehow find the courage to perseverve, to stick with it, and keep the dream alive. Much of it seems to have rise from their refusal to be a slave to the British government; they clearly felt wronged, that somehow their honor and independence, was somehow slighted by the Brits and death rather than slavery was preferable. We forget how these words, honor, freedom, and individual rights have the magic that enables men to do great as well as awful things, and it's just as true today. Many of the soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan would not be able to perform their duty if they did not think they were helping the people, fighting the tyranny that had so enslaved them for so long. Whether this is true, is a good question, but the allusion of being on the side of the good, the honorable, makes many hardships worth while. I wonder if I am too jaded to believe in anything enough to die for it, other than family; perhaps, that's why the young do the fighting

Shopgirl---a movie from Steve Martin

I was not sure about this movie because I don't usually like Steve Martin. I get tired of looking at his aggrieved, woe is me face, or at least, that's the kind of movies I associate with him, most recently Julia and Julia. But I like Claire Danes, so I rented the movie, reluctantly, but thinking it would be light and easy to watch. There is really not too much to it. In the beginning, Claire meets Jeremy, a sloppy, dirty loser, or so he seems, as he tries to sort out his life. She ends up sleeping with him, however, which is never explained. That's Part I. Part II revolves around Claire's relationship with Steve Martin, a very wealthy single late middle ager, who woos Claire, beginning with buying a pair of gloves from her at Saks, then having them delivered to her house. He is not aggressive, but his patience has an end...a mostly sexual relationship with, her thinks, the clear message that this will go nowhere. We are never quite sure how he feels about her; he is very nice to her, takes her to New York, pays off her college loan, but remains distant, content to have a pretty, sexy young girl around, but not 'too around.' Predictably, they break up a couple of times, then after a honest discussion about their future, she asks the right question: "Why can't you love me? Martin just shrugs his shoulders, never answering it, and she decides either she will be hurt now or later, so she might as well be hurt now. He lets her go. Meanwhile, Jeremy has cleaned up his act, gone on tour with a rock band, and meets Clair at an art gallery opening. He has metamorphosed into a fairly confident, good looking yuppie, and they immediately are drawn together. He attributes his success to her telling him on the first date to just 'do it'. She doesn't remember but it doesn't matter. A final meeting with Steve Martin at another art opening reassures her she made the right choice. He is not quite sure, though the voice over, Martin's voice, suggest that Jeremy is able to give her what Martin couldn't, himself fully, not just sexually, and so the movie ends.