1.1.2026 – Janus, two faces

Janus, two faces
one looking forward, one back
doorway to New Year

January Latin Janus, the ancient Latin deity who guarded doors and entrances. Naturally he looked after the doorway to the New Year, too. Janus had two faces — one looking forward, one back. That useful but humble man the janitor derives his title from the same root, janua, door. Janus’ temple was closed only in times of peace, which were not frequent.

From In a Word by Margaret Samuels Ernst with illustrations by James Thurber (Great Neck, N.Y. : Channel Press. 1954).

Janus might have had two faces, one looking forward and one looking back but in the words of Willy Wonka, “You can’t get out backwards. You got to go forwards to go back.

Hope for a new years worth of good thoughts.

One question I ponder, do fans of that team in Columbus feel better about this season that ended with a 1 win and then 2 losses then they do about last season that ended with a loss and then three wins and a ‘so called’ National Championship?

Deep in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s world of “a real dark night of the soul it is always three o’clock in the morning,” you bet they do.

12.2.2025 – every question has

every question has
a cousin, and suddenly
they’re multiplying

Going back to the roots of these essays and admiring wordplay in the news of the day, I want to recognize Dianna Russini who in her Nov. 26, 2025 article in the Athletic headlined, What I’m hearing about J.J. McCarthy, Jerry Jones’ trade steal and more, wrote:

So now what? Delay McCarthy again? I’ve been told there were some concerns about how another year sitting on the bench would affect him. And would it even help? Every question has a cousin, and suddenly they’re multiplying. Can a raw but talented quarterback grow fast enough to match a team built to win yesterday?

I think that’s pretty good.

Good enough to repeat.

Every question has a cousin, and suddenly they’re multiplying.

Can a raw but talented quarterback grow fast enough to match a team built to win yesterday?

Applying to other topics … Can a Saturday Morning TV Anchor run something else like the Frosty Boy Ice Cream Stand in Grand Rapids, Michigan or, just wondering out loud, the Department of Defense?

Every question has a cousin, and suddenly they’re multiplying.

More Thurber at For Muggs and Rex.

10.23.2025 – I cried over things

I cried over things
knowing no beautiful things,
not one, not one … lasts

Adapted from:

I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.
The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman,
The mother of the year, the taker of seeds.
The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes,
New beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind,
And the old things go, not one lasts.

Autumn by Carl Sandburg in Chicago Poems as published in The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg, (Harcourt Brace and Company, New York, 1950).

It’s just a building, I know.

And I know it was MASSIVELY renovated under Mr. Truman.

But understand, without much structural attention since being turned over to John Adams and being burned by the Brits in 1812, that building was falling down.

According to wikipedia:

By late 1948, three main options were considered for replacement of the White House:

  • Demolish and rebuild the interior, keeping the exterior walls intact.
  • Demolish the building entirely and construct a new executive mansion.
  • Demolish the building entirely, salvage the exterior walls and rebuild them and a new interior.

Two of the options were DEMOLISH ENTIRELY.

And the decision was made to Demolish and rebuild the interior, keeping the exterior walls intact.

Also from Wikipedia, Historic preservation of buildings during this time was not as strict or defined as it became later. For its time, simply not demolishing the entire structure was deemed “preservation”. Winslow envisioned many of the interior items – from doors, trim, woodwork, and ornamental plaster – would be reused. Most were carefully dismantled, labelled, catalogued, and stored. Much of the paneling was reinstalled in the main public rooms, but other historic elements were simply copied to accommodate increasing cost and time constraints. Many of the original materials that were not deemed of significantly identifiable historic value, such as marble fireplace mantels, or not deemed to be readily reused, such as pipes, were sent to landfills.

So is it the building where Mrs. Adams hung her laundry up in to dry, where Lincoln walked and FDR rolled?

Well not really, but there is this scene in my memory that I read about where Carl Sandburg, visited FDR in what is now the Yellow Room but in that day, was FDR’s study.

Sandburg, according to the story, stood at a window, hand on the window frame, and said something like, “This is where Lincoln stood, looking south to Virginia.”

FDR asked, “How can you know?”

Sandburg responded, “… I can tell.”

That window, the window Mr. Lincoln looked through, the window that Sandberg rested his hand on, that’s still there.

Still there … for now.

10.5.2025 – she predicts either

she predicts either
a war or the end of the
world in October

I know how she feels.

So I had to add another “a” to make it work.

Thurber, depending on the time of day, might have forgiven me.

More Thurber here at formuggsandrex.com.

Reading some odd stuff online I came across in review of the book of Thurber Letters titled The Thurber Letters: The Wit, Wisdom and Surprising Life of James Thurber , edited by Harrison Kinney,

In a reviewer states, Thurber never warmed to William Shawn.

Shawn took over as Editor of the New Yorker when Harold Ross died.

I also recently came across the fact that after three years, Shawn dropped out of the University of Michigan and went to New York to find his fortune.

Thurber never graduated from Ohio State after being a student there for five years.

Both institutions wrestled with how to handle these famous but non-degree holding alums.

But did it also sprout the roots of a non-working relationship?

Some one’s PhD dissertation is waiting to be written.

9.25.2025 – wearing gloves because

wearing gloves because
I don’t want to leave any
fingerprints around

This image was first published in the New Yorker Magazine, 88 years ago today on September 25, 1937.

As I read over my last couple of months of Haiku and posts, I wonder and I worry; have I left too many fingerprints around?

You can peruse almost all of James Thurber’s published drawing online at my Thurber Page, For Muggs and Rex.

Been reading Brendan Gill’s, Here at the New Yorker and its unflattering take on James Thurber.

All I can say is echo EB White’s Obit which began with the line, I am one of the lucky ones; I knew him before blindness hit him, before fame hit him

As for these posts and thoughts, I am typing with gloves on.

I don’t want to leave any fingerprints.

On the other hand …

In the movie Casablanca, when the Germans enter Paris, Ilsa says, “Richard, if they find out your record. It won’t be safe for you here.”

Richard Blaine responds, “I’m on their blacklist already, their roll of honor.

Not a bad list to make I guess.