12.6.2023 – in a hat, drinking

in a hat, drinking
sherry, reading poems, dream
long long dreams of youth

Daise Terry
North Brookline, Maine
14 December, 1938

Dear Miss Terry

Would you have your office order me a copy of “Last Poems” by A. E. Housman?

I want to give it to Roger for Christmas.

He asked for Housman poems, a bottle of Amontillado, and a top hat.

I can only assume that he is going to sit around in the hat, drinking the sherry, reading the poems, and dreaming the long long dreams of youth.

Yr distant friend
E. B. White

From the Letters of E.B. White by E. B. White, collected and edited by Dorothy Lobrano Guth, 1976, New York : Harper & Row.

I am still dreaming the long long dreams.

Maybe I am younger than I think.

Age loses some objectivity when you move to resort town.

Here where I live in Bluffton, SC, the median age is around 32 and I am far above that.

If I drive out on the Island where I work, the median age goes up to 60 and I am once again, middle aged.

It is a miracle of youth to rival anything found by Ponce de León and not controlled by Prestor John and I can get right back into the dreaming those long long dreams.

Let’s play two!

12.5.2023 – comes quiet stirring

comes quiet stirring
a vast pulsating music
the Sun delivered

There is a neighborhood where we like to walk near our house where this group of about a half dozen families like to decorate their homes for Halloween and Christmas.

Most years it seems to be a benign competition.

This year, somehow, someway, the families involved got together and coordinated their efforts.

Each house went all out as usual.

Decorating starts before Thanksgiving and by the long weekend giving thanks, that end of the street glows.

I cannot imagine how many hours and dollars are invested in these displays.

The amount of time alone needed to put it all together would stop me from even thinking of entering the competition of individual home decoration.

Then, to show their bond of community they turned the sidewalk that spans this group of houses into one long tunnel of light.

Every 10 feet or so of sidewalk has a 7 foot high hoop of PCP pipe that is wrapped in lights.

Each hoop is connected with extension cords to the next hoop.

You can walk the length the block under an arbor of Christmas lights.

Don’t get me wrong.

It is impossible to walk down this sidewalk, under the lights, and not feel better, a little happier for doing it, for being there.

You can’t look at this lights from across the pond, with the water reflecting the lights, and not feel better, a little happier for doing it, for being there.

I cannot imagine the time and human effort that its required to put on such a show.

As I drove to work this morning the sun was about to come up out of the Atlantic Ocean.

Far into the vast the mist grows dim,
A deep and holy silence broods around,
Fire burns beyond the vaporous rim,
And crystal-like the dew bestrews the ground.

The last laggard star has fled the glowing sky,
Comes a quiet stirring and a gentle light,
A vast pulsating music, throbbing harmony,
Beyond the Sun delivered from the gloom of night!*

No human effort required.

No extension cords.

No PCP pipe.

The earth revolves daily and somewhere in the world, the Sun is coming up.

You feel better, a little happier for seeing it, for being there.

*The poem is Dawn by WH Auden.

12.4.2023 – it is silly stuff

it is silly stuff
that has some relevance with
nothing happening

Erwitt downplayed his role as a photographer, often shrugging off pretension or chalking it up to happenstance: “It is silly stuff that I think has some relevance with nothing really important happening, but somehow being able to communicate some kind of fun,” he once said. There’s a lightness of touch that characterises even his most serious images, and he was a master of ironic juxtapositions and comic charm.

From the obit for photographer Elliott Erwitt, Nixon, Monroe and cheeky male buttocks: the soul-affirming photography of Elliott Erwitt, by Charlotte Jansen.

Erwitt worked into his 90s, and was ever practical about his art. “Photography is pretty simple stuff. You just react to what you see, and take many, many pictures,” he told the Guardian in 2020

12.3.2023 – there is no hero

there is no hero
more important than the goat
triumph and defeat

Adapted from the paragraph:

From the article, Behind the Scenes of the Most Spectacular Show On TV by Jody Rosen, in the New York Times on Dec. 2. 2023.

The most spectacular show is Sunday Night Football for those too young to remember Monday Night Football or the College game of the week when only ONE game was on.

But the rule stays the same.

For every winner, there is a loser.

Despite the little league participation trophy, some one goes home unhappy.

Sometimes I think this might be a better place if this was held to a little more often of late.

Sure sure Bobby Thompson hit the home run that led to the famous radio call, ‘the GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT – THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT.’

But it was Ralph Branca who through the pitch that led to the home run and took the Brooklyn Dodgers out of the World Series.

I am reminded of a story that I cannot find, that Bill Veeck always wanted to have an old timers game and arrange for Bobby Thompson to face Ralph Branca one more time.

Veeck said he wanted to do it just to see if Branca would bean Thompson.

Talk about must see TV.

12.2.2023 – the bummage is a

the bummage is a
more dramatic picture than
the celebration

From the paragraph:

Yet the heart of the gig is straightforward. “It’s storytelling,” Esocoff says. “My job is to make the audio and the video match as closely as I can.” He clings to pillars of classic narrative: cause and effect, triumph and defeat. “If the QB hits the receiver for 75 yards up the seam, it’s probably because he had plenty of time to throw. So we’re going to find a shot that shows you the pass protection. You want to show both sides of an event. I always say, the hero on a play is no more important than the goat. So right away I’ll be in the ear of my cameramen: ‘56 blue is the goat.’ A word I use a lot is ‘bummage.’ I want to see the bummage. Because a lot of times the bummage is a more dramatic picture than the celebration.”

From the article, Behind the Scenes of the Most Spectacular Show On TV by Jody Rosen, in the New York Times on Dec. 2. 2023.

I loved this article and as anyone who remembers the glory days of Monday Night Football, it sounds very familiar, especially the line, I want to see the bummage. Because a lot of times the bummage is a more dramatic picture than the celebration.

This thought was made famous by the famous camera shot of Joe Namath showing exteme bummage.

According to legend, the shot was called by the man who invented Monday Night Football, Roone Arledge, who happened into the control truck at the moment and called for the camera …
Maybe it happened that way.

Maybe it didn’t.

But I’ll hold with it.

And as I life long Detroit Lions fan, I know bummage when I see it.