11.28.2022 – how can that creepy

how can that creepy
guy be a hero to you
all in big trouble

Commenting on the ’60s and Lyndon Johnson, Doris Kearns Godwin writes in her book on LBJ, Lyndon Johnson and the American Dream, that:

“How in the hell can that creepy guy be a hero to you?” Johnson asked me after we saw The Graduate in the movie theater on his ranch.

“All I needed was to see ten minutes of that guy, floating like a big lump in a pool, moving like an elephant in that woman’s bed, riding up and down the California coast polluting the atmosphere, to know that I wouldn’t trust him for one minute with anything that really mattered to me.

And if that’s an example of what love seems like to your generation, then we’re all in big trouble.

All they did was to scream and yell at each other before getting to the altar.

Then after it was over they sat on the bus like dumb mutes with absolutely nothing to say to one another.

Don’t know why but I never imagined LBJ watching The Graduate.

Now that I know, I am not one bit surprised by his reaction.

The scary part, now in my 60s, I am not sure that I don’t disagree.

What was the quote sometimes attached to Mr. Churchill?

To be 25 and not be a liberal is to have no heart.

To be 50 and not be a conservative is to have no brain.

11.26.2022 – nothing consciously

nothing consciously in mind see things never know you’ll discover

I love this. That’s the first thing that came to my mind when I saw this picture of my wife running after my grand kids on the beach with a boogie board in the foreground. It really is a great picture.
The second thing that came to mind was a famous photograph by the famous photographer Alfred Eisenstaedt. The photograph is of a Marching Band Drum Major and a line of kids strung along behind them. I had seen this photo for years and it had been included in both the LIFE MAGAZINE BEST PHOTOGRAPHS book that I thumbed through often and the famous Family of Man exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art in New York in 1955. I later learner that the photograph had been taken in Ann Arbor, Michigan and the Drum Major was the Drum Major of the University of Michigan Marching Band. Mr. Alfred Eisenstaedt had an assignment from Life Magazine to photograph the band for an upcoming feature on the band director, William D. Revelli. With that in mind, I took a closer look and realized I knew exactly where this was. This was just on the other side of the brick wall on State Street from where my friend Doug lived. I played football on this field many times. According to Doug, they spent so much time out on their balcony watching football practice that someone was sent over to maker sure they were really students at Michigan. Mr. Eisenstaedt would later say, “It was early in the morning, and I saw a little boy running after him, and all the faculty children on the playing field ran after the boy. And I ran after them. This is a completely spontaneous, unstaged picture.” Time Magazine, the Time in Time-Life, claimed that, “Generations later, the picture remains one of the great photographer’s most beloved. When Bill Clinton was offered any Eisenstaedt print as thanks for a sitting he and his wife and daughter granted the then-94-year-old photographer on Martha’s Vineyard in 1993, the president reportedly chose this one.” There was a time in my life when I wanted to be a news photographed and I studied the work of Mr. Eisenstaedt. He told the story of his first assignment to cover the wedding of some minor European Royalty. Hungary or Rumania or Macedonia or something. Mr. Eisenstaedt said he took pictures of everything and this in the day when each slide of file meant replacing the back of the camera. He had brought some 200 frames of film and shot everything. Everything, that is, except the married couple. Mr. Eisenstaedt reported that he never forgot that. Still, Mr. Eisenstaedt would later write: “People sometimes ask me, ‘When you go off on an assignment, what do you have in mind?’ The truth is, unless the briefing from the editors is very specific, I don’t usually know. I may have nothing consciously in mind. I have to see things first. You never know what you’ll discover.” According to Time Magazine, this is the happiest photo ever made. I think my photo comes close. There is this one problem. I did not take it. My daughter did.

11.25.2022 – ain’t got no home, just

ain’t got no home, just
a-roamin’ ’round, ain’t got no home
this world anymore

Based on the Woody Guthrie tune, I Ain’t Got No Home.

My life in no way compares to the people in Mr. Guthrie’s song.

Recently on a unexpected trip up north, I recounted my current lifestyle and was told, “You are living the dream.”

Not don’t get me wrong because in many ways, I am living the dream.

But in some ways, to be honest, the dream is a bit of nightmare.

If I take this world, this country, election cycle, I worry all the time like I never did before.

If I take in the world of my kids, that I have no control over but I wish I could I wave a magic wand and make it all better, I worry all the time like I never did before.

If I take in the world of my Grand kids, that I have no control over but I wish I could I wave a magic wand and make it all better, I worry all the time like I never did before.

If I take in the world of some of my family, that I have no control over but I wish I could I wave a magic wand and make it all better, I worry all the time like I never did before.

If I take in parts of my world , that I have no control over but I wish I could I wave a magic wand and make it all better, I worry all the time like I never did before.

I feel like I ain’t got no home.

I feel like I do not feel at home in this world.

I worry all the time like I never did before.

Still, I am living the dream.

And if asked, don’t wake me up.

If only I could wake up and appreciate it.

Here are the lyrics of I Ain’t Got No Home.

I ain’t got no home, I’m just a-roamin’ ’round,
Just a wandrin’ worker, I go from town to town.
And the police make it hard wherever I may go
And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.

My brothers and my sisters are stranded on this road,
A hot and dusty road that a million feet have trod;
Rich man took my home and drove me from my door
And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.

Was a-farmin’ on the shares, and always I was poor;
My crops I lay into the banker’s store.
My wife took down and died upon the cabin floor,
And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.

I mined in your mines and I gathered in your corn
I been working, mister, since the day I was born
Now I worry all the time like I never did before
‘Cause I ain’t got no home in this world anymore

Now as I look around, it’s mighty plain to see
This world is such a great and a funny place to be;
Oh, the gamblin’ man is rich an’ the workin’ man is poor,
And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.

11.23.2022 – gather together

gather together
to ask the Lord’s blessing
sing praise to His Name

Having talked about the smells of Thanksgiving, it is fair to talk about the sounds.

And for me the sounds of Thanksgiving included the sound of singing the Hymn, We Gather Together.

I always knew it was of Dutch origin and for that reason I wanted it sung at our wedding and we did.

I learned more about the hymn from an article in the book of essays, Thanksgiving : the American holiday by Laurie C. Hillstrom.

The essay, We Gather Together,” A Thanksgiving Hymn (1894) states:

“We Gather Together” is a hymn that is closely associated with Thanksgiving. For the first half of the 20th century, it was commonly sung by children in schools as well as by worshippers in churches across the country.

But few people realize that this short hymn has a long and complicated history that began in 16th-century Europe.

The melody used for “We Gather Together” started out as a European folk song, and it had various lyrics associated with it through the years.

It turned into a hymn about overcoming religious oppression in 1597, when a group of Dutch Protestants defeated the Spanish Catholics who had long occupied their town and sang to celebrate their religious freedom.

The first printed version of the song appeared in a book of patriotic songs called Nederlandtsche Gedenckclanck, which was published in Holland in 1626. The Dutch-language version of “We Gather Together” traveled to the New World with early Dutch settlers. It was first translated into English in 1894 by Theodore Baker, an American scholar who heard it while studying in Germany.

The song began appearing in American hymnals in 1903, and its popularity increased during both World Wars.

We gather together to ask the Lord’s blessing;
He chastens and hastens His will to make known.
The wicked oppressing now cease from distressing.
Sing praises to His Name; He forgets not His own.

Beside us to guide us, our God with us joining,
Ordaining, maintaining His kingdom divine;
So from the beginning the fight we were winning;
Thou, Lord, were at our side, all glory be Thine!

We all do extol Thee, Thou Leader triumphant,
And pray that Thou still our Defender will be.
Let Thy congregation escape tribulation;
Thy Name be ever praised! O Lord, make us free!

Source: “We Gather Together,” 1597. First published as “Wilt heden nu treden” in the Dutch songbook Nederlandtsche Gedenckclanck, collected by Adrianus Valerius, Haarlem, Holland: 1626. Translated into English by Theodore Baker, 1894.

11.22.2022 – I was downwind from

I was downwind from
camp and the odor of their
soup drifted to me

Adapted from the passage written by John Steinbeck in his, 1962 book, Travels with Charley where Mr. Steinbeck writes:

Fortunately the tents and trucks and two trailers were settled on the edge of a clear and lovely lake.

I parked Rocinante about ninety-five yards away but also on the lake’s edge.

Then I put on coffee to boil and brought out my garbage-bucket laundry, which had been jouncing for two days, and rinsed the detergent out at the edge of the lake.

Attitudes toward strangers crop up mysteriously.

I was downwind from the camp and the odor of their soup drifted to me.

Those people might have been murderers, sadists, brutes, ugly apish subhumans for all I knew, but I found myself thinking. “What charming people, what flair, how beautiful they are.

How I wish I knew them.”

And all based on the delicious smell of soup.

Maybe it’s the thought of the smells of Thanksgiving that brought this passage to mind.

In a recent New York Times Opinion Piece (Nov. 20, 2022), Pamala Paul asked, Is There a Problem With Thanksgiving? and answered her question with:

We could start with the base-level perennials — the godawful travel, the risk to one’s diet, the cousin who is loudly certain that someone has slipped gluten into the gluten-free stuffing.

There’s typically a grievance against the potatoes: the format, mashed or casserole, whether or not to marshmallow, why is there never enough.

Someone has canceled at the last minute; someone nobody invited shows up anyway.

At least one child refuses to sit at the kiddie table, the teenagers refuse to put their phones down at whichever table, an uncle insists on watching the football game at the table.

The table itself looks nothing like tables on Instagram.

Notice she doesn’t touch on the smell.

Think of all the issues named by Ms. Paul.

Then think of all the delicious smells of Thanksgiving.

Don’t you think about anyone connected with those smells that charming people, what flair, how beautiful they are?

And all based on the delicious smells.