First Dispatch

You know that expression about the journey being as satisfying - or something - as the destination? Yeah, not so much when the journey involves a lot of time in airplane seats. 

Earlier today, it was hard to think of much besides a comfortable bed. The last long leg of our twenty-six hours of travel - a flight from London to Cape Town - was not unpleasant, per se. As people all around me seemed to effortlessly snooze - including my wife and two friends - I finished a book, watched Oppenheimer, listened to some music. I meditated, wrote in my journal, prolonged the two marginal meals that were served. My time in the air shouldn't have felt so elongated, right? But almost twelve sleepless hours in the same airplane seat - after being in a different airplane seat for half that long earlier, as well as anticipating what was still ahead after we landed in Cape Town - got me reflecting on the whole journey vs. destination bit. And then I began thinking about that bed, the one I'm headed for now.     

Second dispatch coming soon, if technology cooperates. Thanks for all your well wishes here, via e-mail, and on Facebook.   

 

Coming Soon: Dispatches from Africa

Much as I've thought about it, I still can't say why visiting Africa has always appealed to me. Is there a place you've always longed to visit for no readily identifiable reason? 

If my wife and I hadn't discovered Road Scholar in 2015, the trip that we begin tomorrow might not have materialized. But my long-deferred desire to visit Africa was facilitated because of Road Scholar's enticing catalogues - BTW, we get way too many of those - and our uniformly positive experiences traveling elsewhere with them. And this trip promises to be even richer because two of our friends are joining us on the adventure.

The Road Scholar itinerary tells me there will be some long gaps in Wi-Fi service. The bell curve remains open, regardless. My plan is to reflect - and share pics - from each of the four countries we'll be visiting, where possible; stay tuned. Finally, in case anyone wondered, I got the recommended vaccinations, will be drinking mostly bottled beer - such a hardship - and plan to stay a safe distance from wildlife. All this means I should be back in full-time business sometime around February 26, jetlag dependent.     

I've Got Your Number

Based on the number of comments received on two of my posts in 2022, when readers helped me count down from 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover to One After 909 using pop culture, today's challenge is in a similar vein. I hope some of you will join the fun again. 

1.) Car 96, Where Are You?

2.) Seventy-Six Trombones

3.) 66 Tears

4.) Highway 77 Revisited 

5.) Route 54

As you can see, each pop culture reference above - TV show, song, album title - has in it a number over fifty. One of the five is correct as is. Three of the five has its correct number somewhere on this list but not in the title as noted. Start by identifying the wholly correct one and then move onto transplanting the other three numbers into the correct title. This part shouldn't be too difficult, at least for baby boomers who watched some TV and/or listened to some music growing up.  

Now for the bigger challenge. One of these five has an incorrect number that is not anywhere on this list. After identifying that one and supplying the correct number for that title - another number over fifty and, that's the easier part - then take that incorrect number and put it into the title of a popular TV show from the same era. I'll wait a bit to see if any reader gets the first four right and solves both parts of the bigger challenge for the fifth item. If no one does, I'll give a clue - BTW, this TV show was very popular in its day - in a near-future post also entitled I've Got Your Number. By then, I'll likely have more of this nonsense ready to unleash on you. Obviously, no fair using Google etc. 

If any reader solves all five/six without needing the clue, great. I'll acknowledge that in a response to the comment. In that case, the second iteration of I've Got Your Number might be on its way even sooner. Either way, the fun is just beginning. 

Reflections From The Bell Curve: Pop Culture Triptych: Countdown from Fifty

Reflections From The Bell Curve: Plea for More Rescuers (Start at 29, Please)

It's Back ...

Considering how many people outside of Punxsutawney ever pay attention, isn't it peculiar that of all the movies ever made about holidays few have come close to being as good as Groundhog Day?  What is your nomination for a holiday film that is the equal of Harold Ramis's goofy 1993 masterpiece?

Although I'm not a big Bill Murray fan, Groundhog Day is on the short list of films I've watched more than once. Of the several priceless bits in the movie, my favorite is probably Sonny & Cher warbling I Got You Babe on the clock radio that awakens Murray's character as he endlessly repeats February 2nd - brilliant song choice. What alternative tune would you pick as a way to aurally depict a nightmare you can't escape? My top nominations would be either one of those treacly ballads Michael Bolton screamed during his brief but painful popularity or the musical torture inflicted on us by I-get-paid-by-the-sixteenth-note Kenny G.

Musical snarkiness aside, which bit from Groundhog Day plays over and over and over in your mind? And, if you were able to repeat a single day from your life, which one would you choose?

Words for the Ages: Line Twenty-Eight

"Nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could."

Although that lyric from Fragile owes a clear debt to Gandhi's immortal wisdom about violence, it also holds its own alongside the earlier entries in this long running series. It stands alone - i.e., no rhymes or other words are necessary -  it is terse enough to be easily remembered, and it contains an essential truth. Words for the ages. 

Now about the moniker the gifted musician who wrote that lyric chose for himself when he was young. With his fame, wealth, and insularity, I suspect Gordon Sumner gives no thought to how silly it sounds hearing a seventy-something-year-old referred to as Sting. Still, I do wonder. How many times has he endured those painful but inevitable inquiries about a first name? Do you prefer Bee, Mr. Sting? Etc. 

Thankfully, dreadful puns fade. Sting's musical legacy - including his lyric above - will not. All of his recordings in my collection occupy a rare niche. Each one works in its entirety; there are no weak cuts. And, his obvious erudition has been apparent from Sting's earliest work with the Police. How many modern-day pop lyricists can you name who have cited a Nabokov novel? Not only that, he then credibly used Vlad's name in his rhyme. Stephen Sondheim would have been proud. Got a lyric by Mr. Sumner you'd like to nominate as words for the ages? No? How about a favorite song or performance? Leave the wasp and hornet jokes for when you meet him. Go ahead, I dare you.  

A William Styron Shoutout

From my earliest days as an insatiable reader, William Styron has been one of my favorite authors. In fact, even though I read The Long March almost sixty years ago, I can still recall the effect it had on me. If you have never read Styron, I strongly encourage you to try him.  

A Tidewater Morning: Three Tales from Youth could be the ideal place for any reader to begin a journey with this modern-day master. Because I began my book journals only fourteen years ago, I'm not sure if my recent reading of this slim volume from 1993 was the first. No matter. I'm confident saying all three vignettes in A Tidewater Morning will captivate and move you enough that you will be motivated to try one or more of Styron's longer novels. I'm planning to return soon to his Pulitzer Prize winner - The Confessions of Nat Turner - and many of you are likely familiar with his most well-known book, Sophie's Choice, one of that exceedingly rare breed, i.e., a great movie adapted from a great book. 

But whichever Styron book you choose to begin with, I hope you'll remember afterwards to contact me - via my blog or otherwise - and tell me about your experience. I welcome any opportunity that helps me extend the glow I derive from reading or re-reading his work. If you're already a Styron fan, please tell me how you got hooked. A conversation or an online interaction like that would make my day.  

A Decade of Crabbing

Given my disappointment with two of the blockbusters that have just received Oscar nominations, my crankiness about these over-hyped marquee films seems an ideal way to mark the first appearance of your favorite crab ten years ago. 

Reflections From The Bell Curve: A Crab Out Of Water 

Since 1/26/14, I've allowed my cantankerous coot - or a close crabby relative - to roam the bell curve on about twenty occasions. Several of those posts were aimed at a favorite easy target = technology. Not today. Instead, this cranky codger wants to know: Which of you on the bell curve has seen Maestro and Killers of the Flower Moon? If you haven't, stop reading and return here following the seven hours required to see both. Caveat emptor.   

If you have seen both, tell me this: In your view, are either of these two widely praised films deserving of the Oscar nominations they got? If your answer is no, you're aligned with this curmudgeon, a crank that even infrequent readers know is an indiscriminate movie junkie, a music devotee, and a Martin Scorsese fan. All that aside, if your answer is yes to my previous question, I have one favor to ask of you. Please refrain from recommending films to me. Thanks in advance. 

p.s. The eponymous David Grann book upon which Scorsese built his mess of a movie - the latter of the two above - is an extraordinary piece of non -fiction. It will take longer than three and one-half hours to read but you'll thank me, I think.  

Reflections From The Bell Curve: Such A Life

Survivors

Ever catch yourself reflecting on survival? Specifically, given the endless number of ways people inflict pain on each other, how do some people cope with what they've endured?  

Recently - soon after being exposed to another horror story - I began spiraling into a doom loop. To escape the cloud that engulfed me, I tried meditating, playing my guitar, surrendered to mindless TV. No luck. Even a nap didn't provide the needed respite; disturbing dreams interfered.    

All of you know the kind of stories I'm referencing here. Tell me: If you'd endured and then survived a horrific ordeal like most of us have heard or read about, what do you suppose would follow? Would the pain twist you into something dark, ensuring the cycle would continue? Or would the damage of that pain instead push you to retreat from engaging with the world? 

Perhaps you see yourself following a third path, one we've all seen frequently portrayed. These folks are shaped but not defined by their unspeakable pain. They learn, become better for the experience, and the portrayals of them are designed to inspire those of us who have never survived anything like they have as well as motivate those from similar circumstances to transcend their ordeals. Although I usually succumb to the inspirational aspect of these portrayals, I'm rarely convinced I would act so heroically. 

And that part of my waking reverie about survivors left me with more questions. How many survivors have I encountered in my life? How sensitive was I as they tried to share their stories with me? What were my differing reactions to survivors from each of the three groups, i.e., the dark, the walking wounded, the thriving? What did my reactions to each of their stories say about me as a person?