{this moment} 15

A Monday ritual. A single image - no words - capturing a moment from the past. A simple, special moment in time. A moment over which I wish to linger so that I can savor each treasured aspect. If you are moved by my {this moment} too, please leave a comment below. On Thursday in another ritual called {this memory}, I'll share the story behind this moment.

{this moment}

Copyright © 2011 Thomas G. Brown

{this moment} is a ritual copied and adapted from cath's wonderful blog ~just my thoughts. She, in turn, borrowed it from Pamanner's Blog. Check out their blogs, and if you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your {this moment} in the comments for all to find and see.

TGB   

Can You Hear Me Now?

After seeing the big tent outside of town, Leroy decided go to the revival and see what the excitement was all about. He found a chair and listened to that preacher for nigh on to three hours.

It was just about then that the preacher asked anyone with needs to be prayed over to come forward to the front at the altar. Dozens walked or rolled forward. When Leroy finally got to the front of the line, the preacher asked, "Leroy, what do you want me to pray about for you?"

Leroy said, "Preacher, I need you to pray for my hearing."

The preacher put one finger in Leroy's ear as he placed his other hand on top of Leroy's head and prayed and prayed and prayed. After a few minutes, the preacher removed his hands, stood back, and asked, "Leroy, how is your hearing now?"

Leroy said, "I don't know, Reverend, my hearing's not until next Wednesday."

Author Unknown   

The Tree

Almost every day I photograph this tree near my office window - always from the same angle, the same zoom, and about the same time of day. This is my favorite image from the past week.

TGB   

Copyright © 2011 Thomas G. Brown

To view a video set to music that contains 135 images taken over 12 months, click here.

For the 2010 collection of images, click here.
For the 2011 collection of images, click here.

{this memory} 14

Every photo has a story behind it, and this is one that continues to move me. I took this image in late May of 2003 at the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial in Colleville-sur-Mer, Normandy, France, that honors American soldiers who died in Europe during World War II. It sits on a bluff above Omaha Beach and is where you have seen any number of presidents and politicians speak.

Today, everyone knows it from the opening and closing scenes of Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan. What is perhaps less well known is that a perpetual concession from France has allowed the land of the cemetery to be considered American soil. Our flag flies there, and we administer it.

I had always hoped to visit. My father was a career Naval officer and saw World War II action in the Atlantic, Pacific, and African theaters. My wife had one uncle who landed on the beaches during the Normandy invasion and another who flew bombing missions around the D-Day action. Getting any of those three to say much about their wartime contributions was difficult - as it was with most of that generation, the Greatest Generation as Brokaw called them. They each saw things they did not wish to recall. Such is the nature of war.

I have regrets. I was just 27 when my father died and only five months out of graduate school. We never really had a chance to have any of those legendary man-to-man conversations. I was too late. I am filled with questions abut who he was, and I have put considerable research effort into trying to detail his thirty year career, especially those war years.

I listened my wife's uncle demur every time there was a veteran's group traveling back to the beaches he stormed in 1944. I hoped my visit might encourage him, and if not, I would at least have photos and stories to tell him. He died, however, several months before I got there.

As do most Americans, I found this to be a profoundly moving visit. It is, after all, hallowed soil. These men died for my freedom. I was in the small building near the entrance with my older daughter looking at the exhibits when the first wave of emotionality hit. I walked immediately back outside and waited for her. I was pretty much back in control when she arrived.

We walked on into the cemetery proper, but it didn't take long before I simply had to sit as the tears flowed. I knew I had to explain to her why I was so emotional. I explained about all of the unanswered questions I retain for my father and of my resolve not to have the same regret with her uncles. Yet, her uncle's death left me again with that same sense of being too late. The lesson of not delaying these conversations is closely related to what I've written in Postponement.

Waiting for just the right time to have a certain conversation?
     Don't wait.
          Do it now.

TGB

A Wish Called Woodstock

I'm not really sure why, but I've been thinking a lot about music over the last few weeks. I've tried to make a mental list of every concert I have ever attended, I've replayed in my mind some of the sets I used to perform in my coffee house/folk singing days, and I've had dreams about my three guitars that have slept unplayed in their cases for years because of disability. In spite of that, these are mostly happy memories.

Invariably at some point in these reveries I end up in the 60s. There were so many talented performers offering us genuine melodic wonder - measure after measure, song after song! The quality of their accomplishment is obvious when we see how much of it has remained popular many decades later. Even my daughters like it.

And it's difficult not to think about Woodstock. I wasn't there although I do have a colleague who attended; he decided to leave well before the end. I don't watch it from start to finish, but whenever the film runs on television, I sit transfixed by whatever song, whatever performer I happen to catch. I sometimes wish I could have been there, but I doubt I would have enjoyed the mud. Instead, I spent most of the summer of 1969 with the US Navy in Guantanamo Bay. No mud there. I don't want to go back to that era, but I do love the music. It moves me, wild thing.

My kind of opera.

TGB   

See Me
Feel Me
Touch Me
Heal Me

See Me
Feel Me
Touch Me
Heal Me

       Listening to you, I get the music
       Gazing at you, I get the heat
       Following you, I climb the mountain
       I get excitement at your feet

       Right behind you, I see the millions
       On you, I see the glory
       From you, I get opinion
       From you, I get the story

{this moment} 14

A Monday ritual. A single image - no words - capturing a moment from the past. A simple, special moment in time. A moment over which I wish to linger so that I can savor each treasured aspect. If you are moved by my {this moment} too, please leave a comment below. On Thursday in another ritual called {this memory}, I'll share the story behind this moment.

{this moment}

Copyright © 2011 Thomas G. Brown

{this moment} is a ritual copied and adapted from cath's wonderful blog ~just my thoughts. She, in turn, borrowed it from Pamanner's Blog. Check out their blogs, and if you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your {this moment} in the comments for all to find and see.

TGB   

Jesus And Satan

esus and Satan were having an on-going argument about who was better on the computer. They had been going at it for days, and frankly God was tired of hearing all the bickering.

Finally fed up, God said, "THAT'S IT! I have had enough. I am going to set up a test that will run for two hours, and from those results, shall judge who does the better job." So Satan and Jesus sat down at the keyboards and typed away.

They moused. They faxed. They e-mailed.

They e-mailed with attachments.

They downloaded. They did spreadsheets!

They wrote reports.

They created labels and cards. They created charts and graphs.

They did some genealogy reports.

They did every job known to man. Jesus worked with heavenly efficiency, and Satan was faster than hell.

Then, ten minutes before their time was up, lightning flashed across the sky, and thunder echoed loudly. The rain poured. Soon, as we would expect, the power went out.

Satan stared at his blank screen and screamed every curse word ever uttered by anyone, but Jesus just sighed.

Finally the electricity came back on, and each of them restarted their computers. Satan started searching frantically and screamed, "It's gone! It's all GONE! I lost everything when the power went out!"

Meanwhile, Jesus quietly started printing out all of his files from the past two hours of work. Satan observed this and became irate. "Wait!" he screamed. "That's not fair! He cheated! How come he has all his work, and I don't have any?"

God just shrugged his shoulders and said, "JESUS SAVES."

Author Unknown  

Nine 1/2 Bees

The author is taking a break from the keyboard as he visits with his mother. This post was originally published on October 11, 2010.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Romper, bomper, stomper boo.
Tell me, tell me, tell me do.
Magic Mirror, tell me today.
Have all of my friends had fun at play?

Now that you think I'm certifiably nuts, let me explain.

Last night some of my large extended Italian family came up the hill for dinner. It was a typical gathering filled with food, love, and laughter. From among the many mock insults and teasing began to develop a riff on not being a "Don't Bee." The younger ones, of course, had no idea what we were talking about.

In 1953 a television show debuted that was aimed at preschoolers. There were always lots of fun activities, and at the end of the show the hostess would look through her Magic Mirror and recite the above incantation. This was followed by "I see Elizabeth and Tommy and Peter and ... " - all the names parents "out there in televisionland" had been encouraged to mail in for their children. You were very excited to hear your name. I don't recall if mine were ever submitted, but Thomas or Tommy was likely to come up anyway.

A mainstay of the show was to teach about manners and responsibility. The "oughts" and "shoulds" were explained as we were encouraged to be like Mr. Do-bee and not to be like Mr. Don't Bee. It's the main reason members of my generation are so polite and always do exactly the right thing.

It also has me thinking about other kinds of "Bs."

Just over a decade later Frank Sinatra gave us Strangers in the Night and that immortal five syllable scat sequence: Do Bee Do Bee Do. It's enough to make you forget Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata (Piano Sonata No. 14 in C♯ minor "Quasi una fantasia", op. 27, No. 2). Not. Definitely not.

Then in the early 1970s the Doobie Brothers emerged. They weren't brothers, but It Keeps You Runnin', China Grove, Black Water, and Takin' It To the Streets were great songs. I saw them at the Syracuse War Memorial Arena in 1977 - at least I think it was 1977. There was a lot of smoke around that may have affected my time perception. By the way, I expect that within the next few years "doobies" will be legal in most of the United States. California is about to lead the way.

In 1975 we hooked up with the Killer Bees, the first recurrent skit on Saturday Night Live. They appeared in six full skits and briefly in another six, but we last saw them in 1978. If you never saw them, all you need to know is: John Belushi (visit YouTube).

Do be a Do-Bee.
Don't be a Don't-Bee.

TGB   

{this memory} 13

Every photo has a story behind it, at least a small one, and that is what we have here. Indeed, very small. What you see is the sundial and wabe in my backyard.

      Jabberwocky

      'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
      All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe.

If you are one of my readers, you are aware that I scatter about my life any manner of symbol and talisman. That is what we have here - large symbol, small story.

The title of this blog is obviously a play on the Carroll's words in Jabberwocky - 'gyre' meaning a circular or spiral motion and 'gambol' meaning frolic or skip about playfully.

The wabe is "'The grass plot around a sundial,' called a 'wa-be' because it goes a long way before it, and a long way behind it." My sundial is a reminder to keep joy (gyre and gambol) in life.

It's also about time. In Secret of Life, James Taylor sings "The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time. Any fool can do it. There ain't nothing to it. Nobody knows how we got to the top of the hill, but since we're on our way down, we might as well enjoy the ride."

I use the first line of that in my Author's About Me on the right. It makes sense to me, but we all need reminders from time to time. So there you have it. This photo simply reminds me of my wonderful talisman and how I wish to live my life.

No mimsy. No bandersnatch. Just beamish.

TGB

My Seven Links

It's Hajra's fault - piling the work on, but it had to be done, I suppose. Janine made her do it, after all. The challenge was to select seven of your own posts that best match the seven categories listed below. It's tough to be your own evaluator, and the categories are not rigorously defined. Somehow I managed though. When done, you get to inflict a similar pain on four others.

So, here we go.

My Most Beautiful Post: Window On The World. This may have been the easiest writing I've ever done. It was just one of those occasions where it all flowed - words, images, organization.

My Most Popular Post: Postponement. I like this piece too, but it selected itself - or rather you folks did. It's the one with the most views.

My Most Controversial Post: Bring Them Home. I'm not sure it's all that controversial - taking a stand for peace. It is, however, unusual for me to offer political commentary in this space.

My Most Helpful Post: It's Never Too Late. Sixty-three years has taught me a little, and this is just good, common sense advice.

A Post whose Success Surprises me: The Aches Of Wrap. I don't know - maybe the holiday theme or the humor, but this piece still gets a view every so often and was the most read for a long time.

A Post I feel Didn't Get the Attention It Deserved: The Boobie Ultimatum. How can we talk too much about breast cancer? We can't, and I wish I had more readers at the time I originally posted this.

The Post I am Most Proud of: Undifference. Civil rights and common decency for those with challenges. It ought to be an easy sell, but it isn't.

Not too difficult, but there are a couple of categories where I had toss-up choices. Beautiful and Proud are the hardest categories for me - proud of the quality of writing or proud of the message offered? Beautiful prose or beautiful sentiments or beautiful images created? At some point, I essentially flipped a coin.

Now for the four other writers whom I've selected to torture.

Megan is always worth reading at Strained Consciousness. Let's see what her sense of humor brings to this.

Cathy brings so much class to blogging at ~just my thoughts that her selections should be a treat.

Penelope always has amazing stories at Don't Hang Up. Her choices should tell a story worth reading.

Alexandra is changing on us at She Talks Too Much. So who knows where her selections will take us.

There you have it, and now they do too. I hope the four follow through because I'm eager to see their selections. Peace.

TGB

{this moment} 13

A Monday ritual. A single image - no words - capturing a moment from the past. A simple, special moment in time. A moment over which I wish to linger so that I can savor each treasured aspect. If you are moved by my {this moment} too, please leave a comment below. On Thursday in another ritual called {this memory}, I'll share the story behind this moment.

{this moment}

Copyright © 2011 Thomas G. Brown

{this moment} is a ritual copied and adapted from cath's wonderful blog ~just my thoughts. She, in turn, borrowed it from Pamanner's Blog. Check out their blogs, and if you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your {this moment} in the comments for all to find and see.

TGB   

Giving In To Temptation

Catholic priest, a Rabbi, and a Methodist minister were discussing sin, and the Methodist asked, "Tell me, guys, have you ever sinned and broken the laws of your religion?"

"I must admit," responded the Rabbi, "I was always very very curious about how pork tastes. So once, just once, I stopped at a barbecue restaurant when I was on a vacation and ate a pork sandwich. In fact, it was so delicious, I ate four of them - knowing, of course, I'd never have the nerve to sin again like that."

The Catholic joined in, "Well, I had the same curiosity about sex, and that being forbidden, I didn't know which sex would appeal to me more. So once, while in seminary, I had a sixteen-year-old girl and her brother at the same time. I was so overcome with feelings of guilt that I've never done anything like that again. Well, what about you, Pastor Bob?"

The Methodist said, "My besetting sin is gossip, and I just can't wait to get back and tell everybody in town what you guys have said!"

Author Unknown   

Dial M For Meteor

We are a few weeks into Leo, August is aging, and the excitement is peaking. That can mean only one thing: we’re getting close to the Perseid meteor showers, a celestial light show of what many call falling or shooting stars. I like to think of it as The Universe's birthday present to me, but I'm happy to share it with all the other Leos.

What follows is mostly gleaned from the web.

The Perseid meteor shower is annual, extremely regular in its timing, and often visible for weeks in the late summer sky. It's named after the constellation Perseus, located in roughly the same point of the night sky from which it seems to originate. That's a useful naming convention, but not very accurate!.

The source of the Perseid meteor shower is actually debris from the comet Swift-Tuttle. Every year, the earth passes through the debris cloud left by the comet, and the earth's atmosphere is bombarded by what are popularly known as falling stars.

This year peak viewing should occur on August 12th and 13th beginning around 9:30 pm EDT and growing more spectacular in the early morning hours (until dawn). The moon, unfortunately, is full on the 13th, so there will be moonlight to interfere with the faint meteors. Even then, the moon sets around 8:00 pm EDT in New York. The shower should reach its peak in the hours after midnight with a maximum of a few dozen meteors visible per hour.

Look toward the horizon at the constellation Perseus rising in the northeast sky. 

The lucky viewer might even catch one. If you do, put it in your pocket and never let it fade away.

Bring a lawn chair and bottled water. Maybe something stronger. If you wish, add a camera and tripod. I suppose you could just bring a blanket and someone you love. And ... if you’re not with the one you love, you might try loving the one you're with. If you do either, however, you run the risk of missing the whole thing.

TGB

{this memory} 12

Every photo has a story behind it, at least a small one, and that is what we have here.

In June of 2005 when my younger daughter was graduated from college, she and I jetted off on a European vacation. I described a few days of this trek in The Age of Intelligence.

We flew to Munich from JFK. That was followed by overnights (1, 2, or 3) in Amsterdam, Paris, Canterbury, Stonehenge, Cardiff, Dublin, Warwick, Moffat, Isle of Skye, and Edinburgh. The stop in Moffat was for two nights, mostly as a stop along the way.

I selected Moffat primarily so we could stay at this hotel in Scotland. I'm strange that way. The Star Hotel was the narrowest free standing hotel in the world - or so they claimed. Our room was the one just over the sign; it went from wall to wall - maybe 18 feet.

This photo simply reminds me of a wonderful time with my younger daughter, just before she began to make her own way in the world.

TGB

Happy Birthday To Me

There is much in life easily taken for granted, and it's not difficult to overlook the bounty I have been given. Today is my birthday though and a good day to count blessings. They are many - not the least of which is that I am alive, no small miracle having survived several illnesses that so many do not.

Much of what follows I wrote last year, but it's good to re-read it every so often. It's a affirmation for me as well as a reminder of those things for which I should be thankful.

I am thankful for the little things in life - music and lighthouses,
art and literature, swings and laughter.

I am thankful for the everyday beauty of nature - the seasons,
the azure sky, the starry night, the boundless oceans,
the warmth of the sun on my face,
the sounds of birds, the caress of a breeze.

I am thankful for the blessings of friends - old friends embraced anew
or newer friends willing to nourish this aging soul.

I am thankful for the comfort of family - a loving wife
and two wonderful daughters,
a mother, a brother, an extended family of cousins and others
- all of whom love me as much as I love them.

I am thankful for the ability to work in spite of physical challenges - blessed with a good mind and a superlative education
that allowed me a career in the world of ideas
rather than one of vigorous toil.

I am thankful for the warmth of my home - a peaceful haven
and shelter from all manner of storm.

I am thankful for the food on my table
and especially thankful
when that involves
cheese or olives or bread.

And wine.
Really.

TGB

For my fellow Leos - if you were to receive only a fraction
of what I have been given, you would be most fortunate.
My birthday wish for you is happiness equal to my own.

{this moment} 12

A Monday ritual. A single image - no words - capturing a moment from the past. A simple, special moment in time. A moment over which I wish to linger so that I can savor every treasured aspect. If you are moved by my {this moment} too, please leave a comment below. On Thursday in another ritual called {this memory}, I'll share the story behind this moment.

{this moment}

Copyright © 2011 Thomas G. Brown

{this moment} is a ritual copied and adapted from cath's wonderful blog ~just my thoughts. She, in turn, borrowed it from Pamanner's Blog. Check out their blogs, and if you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your {this moment} in the comments for all to find and see.

TGB   

Amen!

here was a fellow who had been lost and walking in the desert for about two weeks. One hot day, he saw the home of a missionary. Tired and weak, he crawled up to the house and collapsed on the doorstep. The missionary found him and nursed him back to health.

Feeling better, the man asked the missionary for directions to the nearest town, and on his way out, he saw s horse. He went back into the house and asked the missionary, "Could I borrow your horse? I'll give it back when I reach the town."

The missionary said, "Sure but there is a special thing about this horse. You have to say 'Thank God' to make her go and 'Amen' to make her stop."

Not paying much attention, the man replied, "Sure, okay." As he got on the horse, he said, "Thank God," and the horse started walking. So he said, "Thank God, thank God," and the horse started trotting.

Feeling really brave, the man said, "Thank God, thank God, thank God, thank God, thank God," and the horse just took off. Pretty soon the man noticed the road ran very close to the edge of a cliff, and he started doing everything he could to make the horse stop.

"Whoa! Stop! Hold on!!!!"

Finally he remembered. "Amen!" The horse stopped just four short inches from the cliff.

The man then leaned back in the saddle and, deeply relieved, said just loud enough, "Thank God."

Author Unknown

Six Degrees of Cleverness

I'm bachelor this week; my wife is in Denver visiting the older daughter. So it's just my younger daughter and I - although often not her. Her boyfriend started a new job today and works to 11:00 pm. So she and I had dinner and settled in to watch whatever was least objectionable on television.

What we watched has me thinking about Bazinga! - even though it wasn't said once in tonight's rerun. "What’s that?" you ask. Dude, you don’t know Bazinga! ? Well, you’re probably a better person for it since it means your not glued to your 85 inch 1080p High Definition Plasma Surround Sound television. In defense of television viewers though, The Big Bang Theory is a clever and well-written show. We could watch far worse.

According to one online dictionary, Bazinga! is a catchy phrase to accompany your clever pranks and popularized by Sheldon Cooper, one of the main characters on that show. For example, when Leonard and Sheldon discuss Leonard's not-yet-blossomed relationship with Penny, the script reads: 
Sheldon: "Leonard, you may be right. It appears Penny secretly wants you in her life in a very intimate and carnal fashion."
 Leonard gullibly: "You really think so?" 
Sheldon: "Of course not. Even in my sleep-deprived state I've managed to pull off one of my classic pranks. Bazinga!"

So ... just what is it that I’m thinking about when I think about Bazinga!? How much wood would a woodchuck chuck … I'm not certain I know the answer to either of those. I find the phrase very funny when I hear it in its flat screen context. Nevertheless I really don’t think I want to hear it in my everyday life, and although I haven’t heard it yet, a year ago I would have predicted we'd be hearing it everywhere by now. That would have been too bad. My sense is that it's a tad insulting, and the message in its usage is “Look at what I just did (or said). Wasn’t I clever? Of course, I was, but you were just too slow to catch on to my rapier wit.” Since it wasn't part of tonight's show, perhaps it is on the way out.

Surely we all want to live in a society where embarrassing strangers is discouraged, but I’m not sure I want to do that even to my best friends. I love a laugh as much - if not more - than the next person, but maybe it is the more clever among us who can find ways to tease or play jokes on our friends that don’t diminish them. There clearly exist degrees of cleverness, and maybe those who cannot tease without offense aren’t as clever as they think they are.

TGB   

Bazinga!   

{this memory} 11

Every photo has a story behind it, but if not, it's certain to inspire one. This image inspired poetry.

On a forge in southern Missouri  
the bottle rests  
crowned with cobwebs and coal dust  
and waiting for a second chance  
to quiet a thirst  
or cool the fires of the smithy.  

I took this photo in June of 1976. I had just finished my first year of teaching at Utica College and had embarked on an extended camping trip that took me from Virginia down the Blue Ridge Parkway to the Smokies, on to Missouri, Arkansas, Louisiana, and Georgia before returning to Virginia and then back to New York.

In Naylor, Missouri (Pop. 610) I stopped to visit my paternal grandmother about five miles north of the Arkansas state line. This was just six months after my father's death, and I was anxious to see how she was doing. I spent two or three nights and noted that nothing had really changed since I had last visited around 1957.

In front of the house ran the tracks on which I put pennies for trains to flatten even further. They did. The two outhouses were still out back and still necessary. In fact, an outhouse is called a necessary by some. Running water was available only at the kitchen sink and from a shower in the basement that was under the kitchen sink. Both hot and cold water, I should add. Luxury.

Attached to the side of the house was a blacksmith shop where my grandmother's last husband (then deceased) stoked the fires and hammered the metal. Today I wish I had taken more photos of that shop, but I took quite a few. This image was always one of my favorites, and I wrote the poem not long after getting the film developed. I have since made minor revisions.

I returned again in June of 2005. The house and shop are today a museum to which no one goes, but little had changed since I last visited a half century earlier. The two outhouses were still there although beginning to lean a little and not quite as necessary as they once were. What was dramatically different was that the train tracks were gone. I'm assuming that since they were no longer in use, someone thought it best to recycle the steel and reunite the two sides of town.

One more thing - the pennies I made sure to have with me in Naylor remain as originally minted. No tracks, no train.

TGB

{this moment} 11

A Monday ritual. A single image - no words - capturing a moment from the past. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment over which I wish to linger so that I can savor every treasured aspect. If you are moved by my {this moment} too, please leave a comment below. On Thursday in another ritual called {this memory}, I'll share the story behind this moment.

{this moment}

Copyright © 2011 Thomas G. Brown

{this moment} is a ritual copied and adapted from cath's wonderful blog ~just my thoughts. She, in turn, borrowed it from Pamanner's Blog. Check out their blogs, and if you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your {this moment} in the comments for all to find and see.

TGB