Showing posts with label seniors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seniors. Show all posts
"High Country: Bugherd" at Avenir Eclectia.
"High Country: Bugherd" is up over at Avenir Eclectia.
22 January 2012: Feast of Bl. William Patenson.
"Old Married Couple" in Whortleberry's Strange Valentines.
11 January 2012: Feast of Bl. William Carter.
"Dem funeral bells is breakin' up that old gang of mine."
One begins to suspect something temporal is afoot when one realizes that they know far more dead people than living.
Back in the garden, if I remember correctly, besides the Tree of Knowledge, there was also the Tree of Life. This one's fruit would grant eternal life (one wonders if this might be where the Norse picked up the idea of the apples that kept their gods young). If the first juvenile delinquents, (look, they couldn't have been more than a few months old--the Bible says nothing about either acne or teen-age angst) had gotten to that one, man's three score and ten would have been a lot longer. Me, I don't think I could stand the boredom.
With mortality, comes the crap-shoot, lottery, number coming up on the wheel, or draw of the card (notice how all of these seem to have something to do with losing money?) which determines check-out time. For some reporting in comes sooner than one would hope for (being more or less a believer in Christian charity, I won't discuss the other group). One who's stay was cut shorter than some of us would wish was Charley McDowell.
Charles Rice McDowell, Jr. managed something of a miracle in his time, he managed to be both a journalist AND a gentleman. He wrote for the Richmond Times-Dispatch (known to all of us who love it as the "Times-Disreputable"). I'm told that his political column was avidly read. Looking at an example--the way he wrote about the effect on people's lives of the wait for Richard Nixon's resignation, I can well see why. Column of 9 August 1974. Rather than speaking to its meaning for history or the interests of the political class and other elites as did most of his colleagues , he wrote about the people.
This view of the commonplace is what I remember most about him. I first met him while watching "Washington Week in Review" on the PBS station in DC, WETA. My wife and I watched that show right after "Wall Street Week with Louis Rukeyser." Neither of us had any money and we certainly weren't "movers and shakers" (rather, we tended to be the "moved and shaken"), but here was intelligent TV before the term "spin" had been invented.
Back in those days (1975-1990) PBS attempted to attract people of all stripes to their viewership by providing a forum for Left, Right, and the folks in the middle caught in the crossfire. "Washington Week in Review" was a round table discussion show in which the moderator, Paul Duke, (who displayed no bias) and four (I think) journalists talked about the week's happenings inside the beltway. Usually there was a hard Leftist, an equally hard Rightist, and a utility player who sided with one or the other. Sitting on the moderator's physical left was Charley McDowell. He tended to be the voice of Everyman, neither far Left nor far Right. In fact, he seemed to pretty much hug the center of the road. This, along with his Shenandoah accent (hey, you gotta like someone who sounds like you among all those TV voices that say, "Hi, I'm from nowhere."), made him a favorite with the wife and me.
Here's the paper's writeup about him: Charley McDowell.
Now, he's gone, at least from around these parts. But, maybe in a couple of years we'll get to see him again. I suspect (and fervently hope) the Lord don't mind the sweet tones of a Shenandoah accent.
7 November 2010: Feast of St. Ernest. Ensisheim Meteorite - first dated impact - hits wheat field in Alsace 1492, Royal Governor of Virginia offers emancipation to slaves who fight for British 1775, brigantine Mary Celeste sails from New York 1872, Jesus Garcia saves Nacozaride de Garcia in Sonora from burning dynamite train 1907, Suez Crisis 1956.
Back in the garden, if I remember correctly, besides the Tree of Knowledge, there was also the Tree of Life. This one's fruit would grant eternal life (one wonders if this might be where the Norse picked up the idea of the apples that kept their gods young). If the first juvenile delinquents, (look, they couldn't have been more than a few months old--the Bible says nothing about either acne or teen-age angst) had gotten to that one, man's three score and ten would have been a lot longer. Me, I don't think I could stand the boredom.
With mortality, comes the crap-shoot, lottery, number coming up on the wheel, or draw of the card (notice how all of these seem to have something to do with losing money?) which determines check-out time. For some reporting in comes sooner than one would hope for (being more or less a believer in Christian charity, I won't discuss the other group). One who's stay was cut shorter than some of us would wish was Charley McDowell.
Charles Rice McDowell, Jr. managed something of a miracle in his time, he managed to be both a journalist AND a gentleman. He wrote for the Richmond Times-Dispatch (known to all of us who love it as the "Times-Disreputable"). I'm told that his political column was avidly read. Looking at an example--the way he wrote about the effect on people's lives of the wait for Richard Nixon's resignation, I can well see why. Column of 9 August 1974. Rather than speaking to its meaning for history or the interests of the political class and other elites as did most of his colleagues , he wrote about the people.
This view of the commonplace is what I remember most about him. I first met him while watching "Washington Week in Review" on the PBS station in DC, WETA. My wife and I watched that show right after "Wall Street Week with Louis Rukeyser." Neither of us had any money and we certainly weren't "movers and shakers" (rather, we tended to be the "moved and shaken"), but here was intelligent TV before the term "spin" had been invented.
Back in those days (1975-1990) PBS attempted to attract people of all stripes to their viewership by providing a forum for Left, Right, and the folks in the middle caught in the crossfire. "Washington Week in Review" was a round table discussion show in which the moderator, Paul Duke, (who displayed no bias) and four (I think) journalists talked about the week's happenings inside the beltway. Usually there was a hard Leftist, an equally hard Rightist, and a utility player who sided with one or the other. Sitting on the moderator's physical left was Charley McDowell. He tended to be the voice of Everyman, neither far Left nor far Right. In fact, he seemed to pretty much hug the center of the road. This, along with his Shenandoah accent (hey, you gotta like someone who sounds like you among all those TV voices that say, "Hi, I'm from nowhere."), made him a favorite with the wife and me.
Here's the paper's writeup about him: Charley McDowell.
Now, he's gone, at least from around these parts. But, maybe in a couple of years we'll get to see him again. I suspect (and fervently hope) the Lord don't mind the sweet tones of a Shenandoah accent.
7 November 2010: Feast of St. Ernest. Ensisheim Meteorite - first dated impact - hits wheat field in Alsace 1492, Royal Governor of Virginia offers emancipation to slaves who fight for British 1775, brigantine Mary Celeste sails from New York 1872, Jesus Garcia saves Nacozaride de Garcia in Sonora from burning dynamite train 1907, Suez Crisis 1956.
A Judge's Sense and the Living-Impaired.
I was perusing the bulletin board down at the senior center the other day--I like to go there just to heckle the young squirts--and was looking at the various athletics scheduled: Wii bowling, line dancing (well, line shuffling anyway), contact sports like cards and pool, water aerobics (proof that bikinis can still look good--if you don't believe me, take your glasses off and try it again), etc. The one sport that appeared to be missing was senior division car jumping. Which leads to a Kelly story...
Kelly, a guy I worked for many moons ago, put himself through art school working as an undertaker in Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains. One pleasant Indian summer afternoon, he was out in the driveway of the funeral home washing one of the hearses when he almost became one of the dearly departed. He had just walked under the carport to grab a swig of Dr. Pepper when he heard a car engine rev to light-speed and a loud thump. He looked up to see a Chevy Corvair coming down the hill and across the lawn from the Kroger's parking lot above at a high rate of speed (the fact of a Corvair moving fast proves it was downhill). Kelly did his best second base slide out of the way and the car crashed into the side of the funeral home beneath the carport's canopy.
When he opened the door, he found the driver, a late-middle-aged lady (the French, being the French, have a much more female-friendly phrase: "Une femme d'un certain age...") to be shaken--not stirred--but otherwise unharmed. It seems the heel of one of her stylish shoes became lodged against the accelerator and the Corvair fulfilled Ralph Nader's title, Unsafe at Any Speed.
While the repair work was being done to the funeral home, the owner decided an armor upgrade was in order figuring this might not be the last occasion of a prospective customer attempting to deliver themselves from the supermarket parking lot. So, a three foot-high brick wall was added to the outside edge of the carport.
Kelly was shoveling snow out front when he heard the tinny sound of a way over-revved Corvair engine and the familiar loud thump. He turned in time to watch the same Corvair fly down the hill, hit the bottom, become airborne, leap the brick wall, and end up wedged between the wall and the canopy overhead with its tail-end protruding far too saucily for a family-oriented blog.
While the lady, again, wasn't injured, the Life-Saving Crew did have to cut Detroit's masterpiece apart to extricate her. The cause? Yep, you guessed it. The heel of the same stylish sort of shoes had performed the trick of their predecessors.
This time she ended up in court. The Commonwealth of Virginia is generally pretty patient as such entities go, but this was getting to be a blasted habit. The offending stylish shoes were the Commonwealth's Exhibit "A." Both the Defense and the Commonwealth agreed that they were there more too ask his honor what to do about the problem rather than to seek punitive action against the unfortunate driver. The judge leaned back in his chair and studied the ceiling for some minutes, came to a decision, leaned forward, and ordered that henceforth, the lady's driver's license, on the line normally devoted to "glasses" or "hearing aid," would read, "sensible shoes."
Our lady of dragons is at it again--publishing a book that causes normal law-abiding people to breakout in loud, uncontrollable laughter in the middle of such places of quiet as libraries, funeral parlors, hospitals, and boiler factories. Her latest hoot, Neeta Lyffe, Zombie Exterminator, is hitting the stores and ereaders this December. Considering my low tolerance for zombie lit (something about Sturgeon's Law being at work in the tidal wave of this stuff lately--as it is in all things human), this is one of the two keepers I've found so far (maybe I'll talk about the other next time if I get bored enough). Here's links to some sites with information: The Zombie Cookbook, and Fabianspace. (Note to FTC: I neither bought it nor was given it, you guys figure it out.)
31 October 2010: Feast of St. Arnulf. Luther nails his "95 Theses" to door of Wittenberg church 1517, Maori Wars resume in New Zealand 1864, last successful large-scale cavalry charge (so far) in Battle of Beersheba 1917, torpedoing and sinking of USS Reuben James 1941, Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi assassinated 1984.
Kelly, a guy I worked for many moons ago, put himself through art school working as an undertaker in Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains. One pleasant Indian summer afternoon, he was out in the driveway of the funeral home washing one of the hearses when he almost became one of the dearly departed. He had just walked under the carport to grab a swig of Dr. Pepper when he heard a car engine rev to light-speed and a loud thump. He looked up to see a Chevy Corvair coming down the hill and across the lawn from the Kroger's parking lot above at a high rate of speed (the fact of a Corvair moving fast proves it was downhill). Kelly did his best second base slide out of the way and the car crashed into the side of the funeral home beneath the carport's canopy.
When he opened the door, he found the driver, a late-middle-aged lady (the French, being the French, have a much more female-friendly phrase: "Une femme d'un certain age...") to be shaken--not stirred--but otherwise unharmed. It seems the heel of one of her stylish shoes became lodged against the accelerator and the Corvair fulfilled Ralph Nader's title, Unsafe at Any Speed.
While the repair work was being done to the funeral home, the owner decided an armor upgrade was in order figuring this might not be the last occasion of a prospective customer attempting to deliver themselves from the supermarket parking lot. So, a three foot-high brick wall was added to the outside edge of the carport.
Kelly was shoveling snow out front when he heard the tinny sound of a way over-revved Corvair engine and the familiar loud thump. He turned in time to watch the same Corvair fly down the hill, hit the bottom, become airborne, leap the brick wall, and end up wedged between the wall and the canopy overhead with its tail-end protruding far too saucily for a family-oriented blog.
While the lady, again, wasn't injured, the Life-Saving Crew did have to cut Detroit's masterpiece apart to extricate her. The cause? Yep, you guessed it. The heel of the same stylish sort of shoes had performed the trick of their predecessors.
This time she ended up in court. The Commonwealth of Virginia is generally pretty patient as such entities go, but this was getting to be a blasted habit. The offending stylish shoes were the Commonwealth's Exhibit "A." Both the Defense and the Commonwealth agreed that they were there more too ask his honor what to do about the problem rather than to seek punitive action against the unfortunate driver. The judge leaned back in his chair and studied the ceiling for some minutes, came to a decision, leaned forward, and ordered that henceforth, the lady's driver's license, on the line normally devoted to "glasses" or "hearing aid," would read, "sensible shoes."
Our lady of dragons is at it again--publishing a book that causes normal law-abiding people to breakout in loud, uncontrollable laughter in the middle of such places of quiet as libraries, funeral parlors, hospitals, and boiler factories. Her latest hoot, Neeta Lyffe, Zombie Exterminator, is hitting the stores and ereaders this December. Considering my low tolerance for zombie lit (something about Sturgeon's Law being at work in the tidal wave of this stuff lately--as it is in all things human), this is one of the two keepers I've found so far (maybe I'll talk about the other next time if I get bored enough). Here's links to some sites with information: The Zombie Cookbook, and Fabianspace. (Note to FTC: I neither bought it nor was given it, you guys figure it out.)
31 October 2010: Feast of St. Arnulf. Luther nails his "95 Theses" to door of Wittenberg church 1517, Maori Wars resume in New Zealand 1864, last successful large-scale cavalry charge (so far) in Battle of Beersheba 1917, torpedoing and sinking of USS Reuben James 1941, Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi assassinated 1984.
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