- jimlouis 4-27-2007 7:43 pm [link]
...more recent posts
Damn Of An Old Scar
Periodically, a man comes by Mt. Pleasant to communicate to me his problems. Months ago the problem was, by all appearances, a grifter woman taking advantage of his son. As my moderate understanding of the Internet was superior to his, he asked would I attempt some background checks on the woman. I did so and came up with just a little dirt (and while looking also found a reference to a mistake from my own past.) The man later contracted someone more curious and better equipped for this type of investigation. For weeks after I was--despite my inclination towards eye wandering mountain gazing--his patient and attentive sounding board for each new clod of fresh dirt dug up on the woman taking advantage of his son. All of this culminated in the son loosing his cool and punching the woman in the face and going to jail for a few weekends. The woman, now the perceived if not actual victim, runs free tugging effortlessly a rather remarkable list of malfeasance. The son is now quit of the woman, but not the debt she helped incur.
At times the man would punctuate his stories of fiscal woe with ones of health, as his two sons would offer and then rescind the offer of their extra kidneys, so that the man could annul his marriage to the dialysis machine. Focused so long on health issues he would speak of his end with the resignation of one who has watched for years the seasons commence and then conclude, with some of the good and the bad in between, but never too much of one to make you forget the other.
I would ask questions during these sessions and when appropriate throw out a well placed condemnation, of this person or that, judgments with which he could only agree. Simple judgments of those things we deemed good and those things we deemed bad. The man and I derived comfort from these lines we drew which put us on one side of a moral issue and everyone else, except for good people like us, on the other.
Every so often I would suggest, whether I believed it or not, that things could only get so bad before they got better and patience would win out in the end and that all things have a course if we can endure the twists and turns of it. Yeah, he would agree, with appropriate skepticism.
On Wednesday he stopped by looking ill and said he was visiting so as to avoid killing the man with whom his wife of 30 years was having an affair. I told him I was glad he came by and not jokingly said he should always stop by before killing someone.
I offered him his preferred drink of sparking fresh spring water and poured myself some cold Russian vodka. He told me his wife had moved out and was the next day going to give him her decision as to whether the move was permanent, and precedent to her asking for 50 percent of everything they owned together. He talked for a good while until we both started yawning and he said he would have to leave soon to go hook himself up to the machine. Before he left he wiped clean from his cheek the three tears that had over the course of the conversation sprouted from the outside corner of his left eye and run down one deep crevasse in his tired face to form a small reservoir of clear despair, against the dam of an old scar.
Periodically, a man comes by Mt. Pleasant to communicate to me his problems. Months ago the problem was, by all appearances, a grifter woman taking advantage of his son. As my moderate understanding of the Internet was superior to his, he asked would I attempt some background checks on the woman. I did so and came up with just a little dirt (and while looking also found a reference to a mistake from my own past.) The man later contracted someone more curious and better equipped for this type of investigation. For weeks after I was--despite my inclination towards eye wandering mountain gazing--his patient and attentive sounding board for each new clod of fresh dirt dug up on the woman taking advantage of his son. All of this culminated in the son loosing his cool and punching the woman in the face and going to jail for a few weekends. The woman, now the perceived if not actual victim, runs free tugging effortlessly a rather remarkable list of malfeasance. The son is now quit of the woman, but not the debt she helped incur.
At times the man would punctuate his stories of fiscal woe with ones of health, as his two sons would offer and then rescind the offer of their extra kidneys, so that the man could annul his marriage to the dialysis machine. Focused so long on health issues he would speak of his end with the resignation of one who has watched for years the seasons commence and then conclude, with some of the good and the bad in between, but never too much of one to make you forget the other.
I would ask questions during these sessions and when appropriate throw out a well placed condemnation, of this person or that, judgments with which he could only agree. Simple judgments of those things we deemed good and those things we deemed bad. The man and I derived comfort from these lines we drew which put us on one side of a moral issue and everyone else, except for good people like us, on the other.
Every so often I would suggest, whether I believed it or not, that things could only get so bad before they got better and patience would win out in the end and that all things have a course if we can endure the twists and turns of it. Yeah, he would agree, with appropriate skepticism.
On Wednesday he stopped by looking ill and said he was visiting so as to avoid killing the man with whom his wife of 30 years was having an affair. I told him I was glad he came by and not jokingly said he should always stop by before killing someone.
I offered him his preferred drink of sparking fresh spring water and poured myself some cold Russian vodka. He told me his wife had moved out and was the next day going to give him her decision as to whether the move was permanent, and precedent to her asking for 50 percent of everything they owned together. He talked for a good while until we both started yawning and he said he would have to leave soon to go hook himself up to the machine. Before he left he wiped clean from his cheek the three tears that had over the course of the conversation sprouted from the outside corner of his left eye and run down one deep crevasse in his tired face to form a small reservoir of clear despair, against the dam of an old scar.
New York Times Breaking News
Wall Street Journal, AP Win Pulitzers 3:06 PM ET
NEW YORK (AP) -- The Wall Street Journal won two Pulitzer Prizes on Monday, including the public service award for its coverage of the stock-options scandal that rattled corporate America in 2006. The Associated Press captured one for breaking news photography for a picture of a Jewish woman defying Israeli security forces in the West Bank.
Report: S. Korea May Halt Aid to North 13 minutes ago
SEOUL, South Korea (AP) -- South Korea may suspend rice shipments to North Korea to ratchet up pressure on the North to comply with its nuclear disarmament pledges after it missed a deadline to shut an atomic reactor.
It's Hard Out Here Being a Taxpayer 14 minutes ago
WASHINGTON (AP) -- The deadline is upon us, and people across the country are finishing up an estimated 3.18 billion hours figuring out and filing their tax returns.
Wall Street Journal Wins 2 Pulitzers 15 minutes ago
NEW YORK (AP) -- The Wall Street Journal won two Pulitzer Prizes on Monday, including the public service award for its coverage of the stock-options scandal that rattled corporate America in 2006. The Associated Press captured one for breaking news photography for a picture of a Jewish woman defying Israeli security forces in the West Bank.
Jury Selection Begins for Jose Padilla 18 minutes ago
MIAMI (AP) -- Jury selection began Monday for the trial of alleged al-Qaida operative Jose Padilla and two co-defendants, with potential jurors questioned about their knowledge of Padilla's link to a purported ''dirty bomb'' plot.
Top Official Linked to Macedonian Attack 27 minutes ago
THE HAGUE, Netherlands (AP) -- Rami Jusufi was asleep when Macedonian police forced their way into his parents' yard on Aug. 12, 2001. As he walked to his front door, still wearing his pajamas, he was shot in the stomach, U.N. prosecutors said Monday.
AP: Edwards Says He's Strongest Pick 27 minutes ago
NASHVILLE, Tenn. (AP) -- Presidential candidate John Edwards said Monday that he is the strongest general election candidate in the Democratic field because he's won in the South and his chief rivals have not been tested there.
Bush Shocked at College Shootings 30 minutes ago
WASHINGTON (AP) -- President Bush was described Monday as shocked and saddened by the mass shooting at Virginia Tech, the deadliest campus violence ever in this country.
Wall Street Journal, AP Win Pulitzers 3:06 PM ET
NEW YORK (AP) -- The Wall Street Journal won two Pulitzer Prizes on Monday, including the public service award for its coverage of the stock-options scandal that rattled corporate America in 2006. The Associated Press captured one for breaking news photography for a picture of a Jewish woman defying Israeli security forces in the West Bank.
Report: S. Korea May Halt Aid to North 13 minutes ago
SEOUL, South Korea (AP) -- South Korea may suspend rice shipments to North Korea to ratchet up pressure on the North to comply with its nuclear disarmament pledges after it missed a deadline to shut an atomic reactor.
It's Hard Out Here Being a Taxpayer 14 minutes ago
WASHINGTON (AP) -- The deadline is upon us, and people across the country are finishing up an estimated 3.18 billion hours figuring out and filing their tax returns.
Wall Street Journal Wins 2 Pulitzers 15 minutes ago
NEW YORK (AP) -- The Wall Street Journal won two Pulitzer Prizes on Monday, including the public service award for its coverage of the stock-options scandal that rattled corporate America in 2006. The Associated Press captured one for breaking news photography for a picture of a Jewish woman defying Israeli security forces in the West Bank.
Jury Selection Begins for Jose Padilla 18 minutes ago
MIAMI (AP) -- Jury selection began Monday for the trial of alleged al-Qaida operative Jose Padilla and two co-defendants, with potential jurors questioned about their knowledge of Padilla's link to a purported ''dirty bomb'' plot.
Top Official Linked to Macedonian Attack 27 minutes ago
THE HAGUE, Netherlands (AP) -- Rami Jusufi was asleep when Macedonian police forced their way into his parents' yard on Aug. 12, 2001. As he walked to his front door, still wearing his pajamas, he was shot in the stomach, U.N. prosecutors said Monday.
AP: Edwards Says He's Strongest Pick 27 minutes ago
NASHVILLE, Tenn. (AP) -- Presidential candidate John Edwards said Monday that he is the strongest general election candidate in the Democratic field because he's won in the South and his chief rivals have not been tested there.
Bush Shocked at College Shootings 30 minutes ago
WASHINGTON (AP) -- President Bush was described Monday as shocked and saddened by the mass shooting at Virginia Tech, the deadliest campus violence ever in this country.
Personal Maintenance
One recent morning, fog on the mountain, fog in my head, compressed and tangled up under the covers, I reached for something that turned out to be me and gashed myself on a knuckle with a fingernail not long enough to be lethal, but hurtful just the same. Later that day orchestrating a symphony of awkward movements I sliced a line across my chin with the same weapon. A man working for me said how did you cut your chin? I know you didn't do it shaving, he went on to say. I had run out of shaving cream awhile back and was for days pondering what to do about it, while my lazy beard pretended to have purpose. Self conscious about too much laziness surrounding my scheme I purchased some shaving cream, and, certainly no more than a day later smeared it about my faced and scraped over it with a triple or perhaps quadruple bladed razor, and cut my lip in the process, which bled profusely and reminded me of all the school yard fights I avoided, except for the one where the kid spit in my ear. After shaving, and compressing my wound, risking no more, I trimmed my fingernails.
One recent morning, fog on the mountain, fog in my head, compressed and tangled up under the covers, I reached for something that turned out to be me and gashed myself on a knuckle with a fingernail not long enough to be lethal, but hurtful just the same. Later that day orchestrating a symphony of awkward movements I sliced a line across my chin with the same weapon. A man working for me said how did you cut your chin? I know you didn't do it shaving, he went on to say. I had run out of shaving cream awhile back and was for days pondering what to do about it, while my lazy beard pretended to have purpose. Self conscious about too much laziness surrounding my scheme I purchased some shaving cream, and, certainly no more than a day later smeared it about my faced and scraped over it with a triple or perhaps quadruple bladed razor, and cut my lip in the process, which bled profusely and reminded me of all the school yard fights I avoided, except for the one where the kid spit in my ear. After shaving, and compressing my wound, risking no more, I trimmed my fingernails.
Dumaine Boys Hit The Road
Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Cambridge, MA: April 4, 2007
"We had a great showing and audience response...
Joshua and Mario, featured in the film, attended an MIT class the next morning. As an adjunct to the screening, a group of students in city planning/urban design were required to propose and implement a rebuilding program in New Orleans. Some chose to work on educational problems, some chose economic development. The class lasted an hour and a half and throughout it all they asked questions of Mario and Joshua who provided them with a background tapestry of the city: the police, the crime, the schools, jobs, families, etc. At the end of the class, the teachers and students enthusiastically thanked Mario and Josh for their insights and explanations. Not bad! How many local guys can say they lectured at MIT?
Harvard University, Cambridge, MA: April 5, 2007
Beautiful Harvard lecture theater; great crowd of enthused and engaged students. The response was overwhelming and the discussion went on for a good hour afterwards. A terrific group of panelists engaged the students on a range of issues brought out in the film. In fact, the Harvard Graduate School of Education is interested in incorporating the film into an educational curriculum for high school and college students. We will do everything we can to assist them in this effort.
'Wow! Wow! Mario and Joshua, just . . . what you've been through. I want everyone to give you a standing ovation.' -- Moremi Singleton, Harvard Student
250 Harvard students gave them a standing ovation."
Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Cambridge, MA: April 4, 2007
"We had a great showing and audience response...
Joshua and Mario, featured in the film, attended an MIT class the next morning. As an adjunct to the screening, a group of students in city planning/urban design were required to propose and implement a rebuilding program in New Orleans. Some chose to work on educational problems, some chose economic development. The class lasted an hour and a half and throughout it all they asked questions of Mario and Joshua who provided them with a background tapestry of the city: the police, the crime, the schools, jobs, families, etc. At the end of the class, the teachers and students enthusiastically thanked Mario and Josh for their insights and explanations. Not bad! How many local guys can say they lectured at MIT?
Harvard University, Cambridge, MA: April 5, 2007
Beautiful Harvard lecture theater; great crowd of enthused and engaged students. The response was overwhelming and the discussion went on for a good hour afterwards. A terrific group of panelists engaged the students on a range of issues brought out in the film. In fact, the Harvard Graduate School of Education is interested in incorporating the film into an educational curriculum for high school and college students. We will do everything we can to assist them in this effort.
'Wow! Wow! Mario and Joshua, just . . . what you've been through. I want everyone to give you a standing ovation.' -- Moremi Singleton, Harvard Student
250 Harvard students gave them a standing ovation."
Oh Gussymay
The snow from two days ago has melted, except for in shaded areas here and there. This morning I decided to check the weather without getting out of bed so I awkwardly reached behind my head and lifted the window a few inches. An arctic blast blew in against my neck and down my collar and along my spine. I quickly shut the window, onto my thumb, and expelled a few select obscenities. It is Easter Sunday and I am still in bed, listening to the Choir of the Abbey of S. Pierre de Solesmes. The music is making me a little sleepy, which reminds me of those youthful days gone by sitting on a wooden pew in a Methodist church in Dallas. But whereas it was considered bad form to nod off in church I cannot see that nodding off in bed should be a problem, except perhaps to a jealous insomniac. The rising sun is on the back of my head now. Now its not. Now it is. Now its not. The wind conspires with clouds. I don't want to fall asleep. I just woke up. I might miss the benediction. Now I am bathed in white light, listening to a chanting choir, in bed, on Easter Sunday.
I am not an expert on the French language but I think the XM radio guy just swallowed and then briefly choked on a French word. Now he is speaking in a non-committal tone about the death of Christ, as if he wants to make it perfectly clear that he is a scholar of music, not religion.
I have an on again off again relationship with neatness. From where I lie I cannot really see the clothes strewn about the floor. Pushing them to the foot of the bed is a technique you can borrow from me, with attribution. The kitchen though, oh gussymay, don't make me get up and go into that kitchen. If I had any art cred the kitchen could be a much discussed piece of work.
The kitchen was already an ill-attended mess two days ago, an hour before it snowed at 10 p.m. when Bernadette emailed and said she was hungry, in NYC. I said I was hungry too. She said I could put anchovies in a pan and melt them. What else? I said, perking up to the possibility of an actual meal existing amidst the sparse stores of my cupboard and fridge. Sauteed garlic and roasted pine nuts and throw in some currants if I want, over pasta. Oh my dear God, I have all those things. And I grated fresh Parmesan or some other fancy cheese-like product over it. It was goodalicious. I didn't clean up afterwards.
Mr. BC emailed me this morning with a link to an article which was to remind me that long term marijuana use does not adversely affect the brain. I don't know why he sent it to me. Its not like I have ever judged him, nor in 42 years have I ever seen him smoke pot or ever been aware of his having smoked pot. But I guess there are things you just can't know, and also, I suppose, he wanted to unburden himself. Hey man, I'm not judging you, you can count on that.
Yesterday I had breakfast at the cafe and overheard a rather learned sounding blowhard Republican tourist go on about how President Bush is right, was right, will always be right. I went back for dinner and had the crabcake and grilled shrimp platter while listening to stories from a table full of visiting jazz musicians. They were behind me and I did not know who or what they were until one of them made some obviously first hand experienced commentary about Lionel Hampton. I then had to turn around a bit to see who I was dining with, and for whatever reason, I began deriving comfort from their presence.
The snow from two days ago has melted, except for in shaded areas here and there. This morning I decided to check the weather without getting out of bed so I awkwardly reached behind my head and lifted the window a few inches. An arctic blast blew in against my neck and down my collar and along my spine. I quickly shut the window, onto my thumb, and expelled a few select obscenities. It is Easter Sunday and I am still in bed, listening to the Choir of the Abbey of S. Pierre de Solesmes. The music is making me a little sleepy, which reminds me of those youthful days gone by sitting on a wooden pew in a Methodist church in Dallas. But whereas it was considered bad form to nod off in church I cannot see that nodding off in bed should be a problem, except perhaps to a jealous insomniac. The rising sun is on the back of my head now. Now its not. Now it is. Now its not. The wind conspires with clouds. I don't want to fall asleep. I just woke up. I might miss the benediction. Now I am bathed in white light, listening to a chanting choir, in bed, on Easter Sunday.
I am not an expert on the French language but I think the XM radio guy just swallowed and then briefly choked on a French word. Now he is speaking in a non-committal tone about the death of Christ, as if he wants to make it perfectly clear that he is a scholar of music, not religion.
I have an on again off again relationship with neatness. From where I lie I cannot really see the clothes strewn about the floor. Pushing them to the foot of the bed is a technique you can borrow from me, with attribution. The kitchen though, oh gussymay, don't make me get up and go into that kitchen. If I had any art cred the kitchen could be a much discussed piece of work.
The kitchen was already an ill-attended mess two days ago, an hour before it snowed at 10 p.m. when Bernadette emailed and said she was hungry, in NYC. I said I was hungry too. She said I could put anchovies in a pan and melt them. What else? I said, perking up to the possibility of an actual meal existing amidst the sparse stores of my cupboard and fridge. Sauteed garlic and roasted pine nuts and throw in some currants if I want, over pasta. Oh my dear God, I have all those things. And I grated fresh Parmesan or some other fancy cheese-like product over it. It was goodalicious. I didn't clean up afterwards.
Mr. BC emailed me this morning with a link to an article which was to remind me that long term marijuana use does not adversely affect the brain. I don't know why he sent it to me. Its not like I have ever judged him, nor in 42 years have I ever seen him smoke pot or ever been aware of his having smoked pot. But I guess there are things you just can't know, and also, I suppose, he wanted to unburden himself. Hey man, I'm not judging you, you can count on that.
Yesterday I had breakfast at the cafe and overheard a rather learned sounding blowhard Republican tourist go on about how President Bush is right, was right, will always be right. I went back for dinner and had the crabcake and grilled shrimp platter while listening to stories from a table full of visiting jazz musicians. They were behind me and I did not know who or what they were until one of them made some obviously first hand experienced commentary about Lionel Hampton. I then had to turn around a bit to see who I was dining with, and for whatever reason, I began deriving comfort from their presence.