The Return Of E(a)rnest

"Chuff chuff!"
 

"Eh?"

"It's me, Geo., long time no see."

"Hmmm, 4 years by my count. You haven't changed a bit!"

"Well you have. What's that you're leaning on?"

"It's my cane, E(a)rnest. Keeps me from stumbling on uneven ground."

"Makes you look  Old."

"In paved public, I hide it."

"How?"

"I jam it down inside my pants-leg and look loads younger."

"Geo., I won't argue with you. I've spent the past 4 (and more) years studying human politics, as you know, and learned about partisan bellicosity, bowdlerization of humanistic constitutions "justified(?)" by shameless sophistry."

"Dear E(a)rnest, we haven't corresponded enough.Your learning is beyond mine. I can only claim age-related bouts of excrementitious mentality, and ask  your patience."

"Chuff chuff."

"I love you too."

 

 

Finding A Way

                                                  Normaphoto, June, 2022,backyard:

Natural science doesn't destroy

Faith so much as increase our

Tolerance of the incredible.

From faith, science can teach the 

Mind and keep our kind alive. 

 

Big Enigma

 

 [ NASA/Apollo 17 crew;photo taken by either Harrison Schmitt or Ron Evans   1972(Public domain)]

 How old am I to a

Cat, cockroach or

Sequoia, how old?

How old is the universe

To me? Yes, I begin

To see we all share

An infinitely expanding

Moment --what is and

Will ever be all life,

Time, space, you, me.

It is a nursery.

A nursery.

Enigmatic Memories

 

I do not always present my best side, especially when health insurance declines to co-pay my favorite mind-stimulant and tranquilizer --Cabernet Sauvignon from Woodruff Vinyard only 20 miles away. Magnum in Normaphoto was just carried home from RiteAid Pharmacy, under my protection. I still get carded there because I guess I pass for under 21 (can't help it if I'm lucky).

When I really was under 21, well over a half century ago, some high school acquaintances would organize recreational convoys over our southern border to towns like Tijuana and Escroto- Sangrante, both of which enjoyed Kakistocratic government. I learned about Kakistocracy in 1959, when our school bus driver, Mrs. Dixon, pulled over on a country road and addressed us passengers --many of whom were yelling, screaming and trading roars. She said: "Y'all quieten down, listen up, SMARTEN UP! And we'll get rollin' again!" It worked and she resumed driving our bus. Sadly, many rowdy belligerents grew into lifelong Kakistocrats -- a third party that obtained in 2016. By 2020 Republican and Democratic parties were able to restore governmental dignity and get the bus rolling again.

20th was a good century for me. People were having fun. When I turned 50, the Harlem Globetrotters inducted Pope John Paul II and gave him jersey number 75. That was year 2000, (Y2K!!!!!!!!) when we were all stripping store shelves of stuff we might need --but now can't remember what it was about. Number 75, I remember because the world still had some fun in it. We survived great hardships and little soft ones too, because sometimes we felt so loved, we'd never be unhappy again. 

That's when I replay Mrs. Dixon in my mind, and feel better already.

 

Post Easter Post

 

 

 When I was young and ignorant of how wise I thought I was, spring would bring forth allergies, early-morning hymns that went on and on --low melodious man-rumbles and spooky vibratous descants from church ladies-- until I declared "I descant do this anymore."

I recall feeling relief at abstaining from church later on, except on Easter, especially after reading Paul Tillich, "Christ the sacrament of the encounter with God." Also read Martin Buber. In "I And Thou", wrote, "The world and I include each other reciprocally."

So how do I, from such foundations, explain Easter? I don't. I get my cane and shuffle out to the barn. I contemplate junk, like the fragments of a decoy duck Norma's enate great grandfather carved 100 years ago. It has the craquelure of wood long wet, then dried for many years. Poor duck's head fell off years and years ago.

With the thirty-year-old purchase on the Pumphouse shelf of  OATEY pvc cement-- immortally waterproof, which was so sealed I needed 2 pipewrenches to open, I spooned enough waterproof  glue to recapitate the duck. Then went at him with a collar of  acrylic paint. 

What did I learn? If  we want to meditate upon resurrecting ourselves, our species, reading,  church, it's going to take a lot of practice, treks out to the barn,  avoiding prejudgement, skills that can raise from injustice what can be raised --and OATEY.

 

l Just Called to Say: Eu amo Você-- legendado em Português

 

 Clip above is among my favorites. What else can be said of this masterwork of actors and performers, Kelly Lebrock, Gene Wilder, Stevie Wonder? Its subtitles are in a language I loved in childhood, when my grandmother would hug me and croon,"Ah malnino, you be good!" 

I thought it was a good way to return to blogging after some months of rather demanding distractions. I just called to say I'm ok, trying to be good, etc.

Photo--ago-go

Let's begin this closing episode of the "Ago" post series with a photo--ago-go:

This beloved bug took us off to find America in 1968. My friend, Will, and I camped all over California, on into Nevada etc., then returned west. Him, to be a kind role-model to other fatherless  kids. Me, to keep learning, by his example, and discover good ideas, no matter how old or new, politically and morally created in discourse of reason, stabilized lives.

Some years later, on Interstate 5, I was driving to work and was honkingly instructed to check my rear-view mirror by a fellow motorist. It appeared the sun was rising in the south that morning. Pulled over to let it pass, stopped, stepped out to watch Beloved Bug join eternity in a pillar of flame and drifting carbon. What does one do?   

 One gets another VW. This one emits carbon in the form of little yellow wildflowers.

We still have Van but I don't drive it in hot weather. I drive Mazdas from this century because of their excellent air conditioning --which strangely I like more and more here in my 7th decade. But Van has its charms. Here is a Normaphoto of Will (at right) and us headed for Russ Solomon's Tower Records and Cafe:

A somewhat less kinetic photo of Van is here, parked on our lane:

In this photo, I get to be the fellow at right because Will recently left the position open (at age 84) January 21, to begin adventure as drifting carbon, the atomic basis of earthly life. Irreducible, like Will in composition, caring, language, learning -- Irreducible. I miss him very much.