suggests what we do
isn’t real or relevant or
part of the present

In the article, ‘We’re the last bastion of rental’: the video stores resisting the rise of streaming by Kyle MacNeill in the Guardian, 4/15/2024, I came across the line, “Nostalgia suggests what we do isn’t real or relevant or part of the present.”

I have to ask what does ‘Nostalgia’ have to do with it.

What job today IS real and relevant and part of the future?

Okay sure, life guards, cops, firefighters, public service jobs …

But I look at my career.

I spent 20 years in TV News.

We sold air time.

We sold air.

We sold air and made a lot of money doing it.

Now I work for a resort that sells time shares.

Shares of time.

My job is to make that share of time, the share of time you might want, seem to be the most attractive and affordable share of time out.

So much so that you would want to make a life time investment in that share of time.

Real?

Relevant?

Part of the present?

Oh gee whiz!

As I write this, the radio station I listen starts playing Aaron Copeland’s Appalachian Spring.

Real?

Relevant?

Part of the present?

Mr. Copeland’s arrangement of notes and instruments is as fresh as it was when it wrote it all down in 1944.

I can’t compete with that.

Not going to try.

I will do my job and I will enjoy the music on the radio and be happy with that.

Real enough for me.

Relevant enough for me.

It is my present.

I will celebrate it and take a walk along the beach at lunch time.

that side of the fence
those tennis balls sit safely
on my side, fair game

The next business down from my office is a tennis school.

We share an alley where I park my car.

A 12 foot high fence separates the outdoor courts of the tennis school from the alley.

In the mindset of kids who don’t pick up their toys, there are always tennis balls that are left behind by the tennis players.

The balls left on their side of the fence are, well, on their side of the fence.

The balls that make it over the fence and into the alley and under the bushes in the alley?

They are mine!

I fell they were left out and dispite years of ‘lil help, give my ball back’ I consider them to be fair game.

And I got a drawer full.

Sometimes I feel a little guilty when I pick one up but by the time I get to the office and drop into the drawer with the rest, my conscience is clear.

Now its one of my talismans.

Any I see a ball and pick it, all that day I’ll have good luck.

If I see a heron, its a harbinger of good things to come.

If I beat any of the New York Times word puzzles over the coffee, it looks to be a good day.

Contrived?

You bet!

But these day’s I need all the talismans I can get.

Who knows what side of the fence I am on.

punishment that brought
us peace was on him, by his
wounds, we are healed

But he was pierced for our transgressions,

he was crushed for our iniquities;

the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.

We all,

like sheep,

have gone astray,

each of us has turned to our own way;

and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.

Isaiah 53:5-6 (New International Version)

The painting, is in the Royal Collection now owned by Charles III though the web page I found it on still credits his Mother.

The blurb on the page from The Royal Collection states: The day after the Crucifixion, Mary Magdalene found Christ’s tomb empty. Two angels spoke to her as she wept, and when she turned she saw a man she thought was a gardener. Rembrandt sticks closely to the passage in the Gospel of John, which poses the question of the risen Christ’s appearance, because Mary Magdalene recognizes neither his face nor his voice. The figure of Christ eludes understanding, and the rising sun symbolizes the dawn of a new era for mankind.

Jesus as a gardener, ready to go work as the sun rises.

The dawn of a new era for mankind.

gives himself again
with all his gifts, door opens
this is judgment day

Adapted from the Stations of the Cross: I Jesus is condemned to death, which is found in the book Sounding the Seasons by Malcolm Guite and are intended to be read on Good Friday.

I am reminded of the legends told about Pilate.

One that he was sent to Switzerland after his term in Judea and while up in the alps, would walk down to nearby stream and daily, wash his hands.

Another myth is that the ghost of Pilate comes out on Good Friday to wash hands.

If you look up the idea of symbolically washing your hands of guilt, there are a few other instances of such a thing be mentioned in the old books but with the access of search provided by the google, you have to think that this was not all that common.

The word painting of that moment in the Gospels leave no doubt of its impact on that moment and over the centuries.

Jesus is condemned to death

The very air that Pilate breathes, the voice
With which he speaks in judgment, all his powers
Of perception and discrimination, choice,
Decision, all his years, his days and hours,
His consciousness of self, his every sense,
Are given by this prisoner, freely given.
The man who stands there making no defence,
Is God. His hands are tied, His heart is open.
And he bears Pilate’s heart in his and feels
That crushing weight of wasted life. He lifts
It up in silent love. He lifts and heals.
He gives himself again with all his gifts
Into our hands. As Pilate turns away
A door swings open. This is judgment day.