The Gaslight Anthem

You may recall these guys. We've mentioned them before. Even if the drummer wasn't the nephew, we'd think they were terrific. Last night The Gaslight Anthem appeared on Conan O'Brien. We are very proud.

The Curse and the Blessing

For the first time in four days after her partner of twenty years said, "I don't," she didn't cry when she woke to find herself alone in the big brass bed.  "It's strange," she reported through a text message, "I somehow feel lighter."   After staring at my phone and then erasing three attempts at a response, I finally settled on, "That's nice."   It was her next text that made me laugh for the first time since hearing the news, "Hey,"  she wrote, "I can get a cat now." 

Good Morning

This morning, I could have used the extra minute to which MaryWalkerBaron made reference in her last post. I am temporarily living in the house which belonged to my deceased Aunt Ruth in New Jersey and commuting to my job in Manhattan. The subway doesn't adhere to a schedule, or if it does, commuters aren't told what it is. Commuter buses, however, leave at specific times.

I calculated my first morning perfectly, performing my morning tasks and leaving the house on time. Then, halfway during the five-minute walk to the bus, I realized that I had changed outerwear and left my Metrocard and building pass in the pocket of yesterday's coat. I ran back and retrieved it, and was running hell-for-leather down the main street of this quiet retirement community when a car pulled over. Two women, obviously mother and adult daughter, sat in the front seat and a baby, the grandson, occupied a carseat in the rear. "Are you going to the commuter bus?" asked the woman in the passenger seat, "Get in." She directed her daughter down the block and around the corner to the bus shelter, and I was there in plenty of time. In response to my profuse thanks, the mother replied, "God gives us blessings all the time. This is one of them". "Well, then, you are God's messengers today" I said, as I got out of their car. I smiled all the way to Manhattan.

Time Doesn't Always Fly, Apparently

I'm pretty sure this is what the guy said. I was driving home this evening. Traffic was heavy. I was listening to someone interview someone else on some radio program or the other. However, I'm almost certain this is what he said.
In one million years we will have added a full minute to our day. This is because the earth is slowing in its orbit. Not a whole lot, apparently, but enough to pick up that minute every million or so years.
It doesn't seem like this would be a big problem but apparently it is. The computers and other sensitive electronic stuff are no longer as accurate as one would think. The situation must be addressed.
At some point, and I have to confess I didn't catch the exact point at which this will happen, we will make time stand still to allow our clocks and stuff to again match the earth's rotation. This point not caught by me is not thousands of years off. It's around the bend. The date and the moment, I think the guy said, have already been set. On that day at that moment time will stand still. Either that or the earth will stand still.
I think I saw that movie.

An African Proverb

If you want to go fast,
Go alone.
If you want to go far,
Go together.

Road Trip - Sunday - Back Home

Today I retraced the route taken across country -- two weeks after the journey began it ended on the day and at the location of its beginning. Except today Continental Airlines made short work of the road trip which lasted a week. Tracing almost our exact route, I covered the ground in six and a half hours. There was no sense of the incredible vastness of this country. Today's trip was all about expedience -- getting to the destination.
There was no early morning fog in Mt. Pleasant, Texas, to sit out with other travelers. I have no idea if that curve in the road somewhere in Texas got itself straightened out. Today I crossed the Mississippi River and never knew it and so gave the genius of Mark Twain no thought at all. I suppose those two tired women running that little store in Carlisle, Arkansas, are still keeping Moon Pies in stock but I couldn't check their inventory today. The Smokey Mountains and the Blue Ridge Parkway have gotten along without me for centuries but it was good to feel a part of them for awhile -- to breathe in the icy air and glory at the beauty. They were somewhere under the 737 today but I didn't notice.
I think everyone should drive across this country at least once. It's really big and it's really beautiful. Every state is different in personality and landscape. The interstate highway system is astonishing in its design. Getting lost is pretty hard to do, even though, of course, we did at least a couple of times.
I miss the road. Of course, tomorrow morning I'll be back on a familiar set of roads, the Los Angeles freeways. They're pretty amazing, too.

Golf -- A Special Type of Insanity

The temperature was in the low thirties. The grass was stiff with frost. Yet there they were -- the golfers.
Their heavy, bulky winter coats seemed to immobilize their arms. Hats pulled low over their eyes both shielded them from the bitter cold air and, unfortunately, blinded them. Hands encased in heavy gloves made gripping their clubs unlikely.
Actually swinging their clubs was indeed a precarious undertaking. Should one of them fall the chances were slim that they would be able to stand again without help because of the sheer bulk of their clothing.
Like elderly, crazed warriors -- their armor glistening with freshly fallen snow -- they gathered for another daily round.
As long as they can see the ball, it seems, they will continue these early morning gatherings always the same time tomorrow.