Sunday, March 22, 2015

Sunny, Cold, A Dash Of Snow Flurries


7:23
7:24
7:58
I slept in some,  till 7:20 which felt good.  The sun had yet to rise but the sky was pink along the coast line of Bemus.  A few guys were out fishing.  At the moment, it's 7:59 and I have listened to two podcasts, the novelist Isabelle Allende on 'Living Passionately,' and a podcast from NPR called 'Pop Culture Happy Hour,' about the novels of Nick Hornsby.  Both are pretty good, not too long, a good background to surfing the Internet.

Yesterday was one of those days where neither Evie nor I had much mojo, though we tried to push ourselves some but it did not work very well, alas.  I skipped yoga, made the excuse that my back was a bit sore, so I would take a few days off, forgetting the mantra, 'Do It Now.' We vowed to store our winter toys, skis, snow shoes, etc, and almost managed that, not quite.  My one task, a trip to the Transfer Station, was accomplished around 10:30.
Evie With A Bag Of Freebies
Grow Jamestown Expo
The city of Jamestown's Renaissance Center was having a Expo called Grow Jamestown.  And we wanted to stop at Sherwin Williams, so we decided to do something: drive to Jamestown.  And the Grow Jamestown was fun, fairly well attended, as any one having something to do with trees, gardens, lawns, landscaping, were there, giving away free pamphlets, and some goodies, like plant markers, seeds, whatever.  We walked and talked with the vendors for about a half hour, ended up buying nothing though the bakery, especially the cupcakes looked tasty.  It was worth the drive and fun to get out of our house.
The Man In Red

Downtown Jamestown
On the way to Sherwin Williams, because we knew we did not want to fuss with dinner, we ordered two large pizzas, $7.99 a piece from Pizza Hut via the Internet, then went to Sherwin Williams to talk about paint before driving to Pizza Hut 20 minutes later to pick up our pizzas, ready and warming in an oven.  On the way home, we had to fight the tendency to have a slice because they smelled so good,  We disciplined ourselves, even when we got home.  To placate me, Evie made toasted ham and cheese for lunch with the last of the leek and potato soup...a ham sure goes a long way.

The rest of the afternoon we just wasted, on our couches, either watching junk TV or March Madness, neither very satisfying.  I finally finished my novel, John Sanford's RULES OF PREY, a typical Lucas Davenport novel, with serial killers, chicks, and a screwed up police bureaucracy.  And started another thriller, KILL SHOT, by Vince Flynn, as we follow the CIA's trained assassin, Mitch Rapp. This is my third Mitch Rapp novel.

For dinner, Evie warmed up the pizza, made the salad, and we were happy, watching the end of Ohio State's disappointing loss to Arizona in the NCAA tournament.  Bored with basketball, we decided to watch a DVD which we just arrived from Netflix, called WHIPLASH.  It's about a young drummer, at a prestigious music school in New York, his passion for drumming, and his relationship with his teacher, a sadist or to be less generous, a psychopath.  Neither are your average Joes, as Andrew, played by an amazing Miles Teller, seemingly has no friends, no empathy, a weak sociopath perhaps, a vivid foil to his teacher.  It's an intense movie, both Evie and I were on the edges of our couch through much of the movie.  And the ending is puzzling until you think about it, both humiliation and triumph for both.  J.K. Simmons received the Academy Award for Best Actor for his role as the music teacher/conductor, Fletcher.  He's good, but not as good as Miles Teller, who played the student. Don't get me wrong, Simmons is good, too, as the hard nosed, take no prisoners music teacher, a sadistic football coach in the music room.  I did like his words of wisdom to young Andrew: "Do you know what  the two most destructive words in the English language are?  Good Job."  I like that and so true.  How many times have I told my students and players 'good job' when I did not mean it but did not want to be honest.

A Poem of Gratitude:

Otherwise

Jane Kenyon1947 - 1995
I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.
At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.

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