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 |  I've maxed out. Closed this blog. |
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This is a way of making myself write something coherent and grammatically correct almost every day. I'm opinionated and need an outlet. I'm also prone to flights of fancy. Thanks for stopping by. |
| Words in English may have always had a tendency to change meaning with the times. A blatant example would be "bad". Common usage among the young or "hip" for a while mad "bad" mean really good. "Radical" comes to mind as another word that has altered its meaning and has to be taken into context. Other such words include liberal and conservative. I would say that in modern usage, a person could be both at the same time, depending on context. "Liberal" in Thomas Jefferson's day had a different meaning than it does today. And it means different things when used by various groups or people. Like some media use "liberal" to mean leftist, or socialist, or communist. You almost need to stop commentators and ask them to clearly define their terms so that you can follow what they're saying. Does liberal have to mean a radical departure from current thought? Does it have to mean an advocate of change (from almost anything)? At one time "liberal arts" meant almost the same as "fine arts" and included all higher learning that wasn't meant for the priesthood or religious training. It included science and math. Now "liberal arts" defines an undesirable and impractical education that will not net one a decent living. Having general knowledge and knowing one's place in the world, including civic duty, is not as important as becoming a well paid individual who will one day make significant financial contributions to one's Alma Mater. I don't want to argue what these individual words mean. I have read a lot of commentary lately about these same word choices, their political connotations and historical value. We just need to be clear how we're using them, make sure we understand how others are using them before attacking them. We also need to be sure we're not using good words in a derogatory sense and thereby altering the meaning ourselves. |
| Just a reminder, since it's Mar. 17. Beware the wild banshees. They are female spirits, supposedly family ancestors who weren't quite done with this life, or just couldn't let go. They linger and attach themselves to the family and its descendants. You hear one cry when someone in the family is going to die soon. Now there are two kinds of cries. If it's a good-hearted banshee, especially if the fated one is young or newly in love, the cry will low, and mournful, and very sad to hear. If the banshee is hateful, still full of anger from living, the cry will be extra loud and shrieking, even happy that someone is about to suffer. While we are discussing Irish figures, do you know why you hardly ever encounter a leprechaun these days? Two reasons: school teachers and horror films. First school teachers tell the children not to believe the old tales. It offends the leprechauns that the children, and now the teens and young adults don't believe they exist. So they've moved to the mountains and remote areas where teachers aren't so plentiful. Now, how do they explain the sparks from the fireplace that burn the rug, or things that get turned over or milk that gets spilled? Or the missing cookie? The wee folk go elsewhere to work and explore. Then there's the horror film. Those folks are always portraying leprechauns as dangerous, murderous, and scary. They may be tricky, or even practice the occasional larceny, but never turn to murder, or frightening people. Needless to say, there's now more enmity from regular folks towards the wee folk, so they don't take chances. They're safer far away from any place with TV or movie theaters. Here's hoping your St. Patrick's Day was a merry one. You needn't worry about wearing green, since no one is close enough to pinch you. Erin Go Braugh. |
| I'm about halfway through an on-line course from coursera.org on the age of Jefferson. I think it safe to conclude at this point that if Jefferson were alive today, he would not approve of welfare, food stamps, Medicaid, and other tax supported help programs. (Social security is a different topic since people actually pay into that themselves It's not supposed to be coming from taxes). He would approve of privately supported secular charities or church supported charities. He believed in the virtue and the enlightenment of all citizens. A republic or democracy like we endeavor to have is dependent on individual virtue. And where does the virtue come from? Preachers! From Jews and Christians who would live lives worthy of emulation and teach solid values for a peaceful society. He could not foresee the influx of Eastern religions, so he only considered the Judeo-Christian tradition. He held no denominational affiliation; he was a sect of one. He claimed to be Unitarian. He felt strongly that both government and religion needed to be protected from the other, but they were mutually dependent. Neither should impose its will or influence on the other. Religion could not think freely without protection from government, and government could not operate for the good of society without the virtue and personal improvement fostered by religion. He liked most American religions because they were "grassroots" organizations, rather than from the top to bottom like most European religions, such as the Anglican church. Whether America has swung away from TJ's ideal or carried it out can be debated. Certainly, the prominence of personal virtue is questionable. Pop culture tells us that personal enlightenment is not a priority. We do know that religion is necessary for a successful Republic according to Jefferson, as long as neither attempts to control the other. As for helping the downtrodden and the refugee, I think he would say we should be a helpful society and let people volunteer to help, not force them through taxes. |
| I want someone else to start a new TV channel as I don't have the money or media connections to do so. But I want it done my way. Something akin to INSP channel, available on DirectTV and Dish, for instance. What I'd like is an old cowboy channel. Yes, that's right. I'm a girl; it's 2014; westerns are outdated and unfashionable. However, I have discovered lately that I like them. I'm fascinated with the accuracy versus fantasy as history lessons. But I'm also fascinated about what they say about the eras in which they were made. The 50's were not as message oriented as the 60's, for example. The shows would be interspersed with short talks by historians, like AMC does with old movies and film critics and actors. Aging actors could appear for interviews or memories of making the shows. Secrets of stunt men, costumes, and changes in studios would be shared. But mostly, just good old western shows.Such a channel would appeal to an aging population, and might interest a new audience. My favorite would be The Virginian. I'd run a double on Saturday night, and at least twice during the week to accommodate different work schedules and students. Gunsmoke and High Chaparal would run regularly, too. Shorter series would be changing from season to season due to fewer episodes, but would come up again in a year or two. Like real oldies: Sugarfoot (that's lower than a tenderfoot) and Cimmaron Strip. Of course, we'd see How The West Was Won (movie and series), Maverick, Wagon Train, Paladin, Rifleman, and Rawhide. Then there was Branded, Kung Fu, and Daniel Boone. Davy Crockett was owned by Disney, but it would be excellent. Cheyenne, F Troop, and River Boat would make the list, all different from each other. Alias Smith and Jones and Laredo are the most modern I can remember. I don't especially care for Bonanza because of the colors, costumes (always the same for convenience of stunt doubles), and the phony choreography of the heroic brothers. But it's far too popular to omit. I do like Big Valley, despite the tightness of the family, and the frequent story themes of other people hating the Bartlett's (hating the Cartwright's is a continuing theme in Bonanza). The Big Valley features large scale farming as well as ranching, and the related problems of transporting goods, immigrants, and other historical interests. So if someone out there wants to start and run a TV channel, 24 hour Western series, movies, and educational programs, I'm willing to consult and research! |
| Don't you get sick of all the superstition all around us? In such an enlightened era, people still hold to such nonsense. For instance, I don't believe an itchy hand means you're going to shake hands with a stranger or that you're going to come into unexpected money. But I don't mind people making the comment. Or an itchy nose means company's coming. Won't hurt to be ready, but it's not really a foretelling. Black cats don't cause bad luck. They're God's creatures, so if one crosses your path, it's no worse than an Angus cow crossing your path. These are rather harmless and most people know there's no truth to them. They say them just to connect to previous generations. I know that humans don't become angels when they die. If humans are made in God's image and angels are not, then why would we go backwards? Angels are servants of God and people are children of God. Again, a demotion. Paul writes in the New Testament that in heaven, those who are saved will sit with Jesus in judgment of the angels. Angels will not judge humans. So this is an erroneous statement made by many well-educated and well-know public figures and is a concept prevalent in literature. Currently, there is an email and a Facebook posting about cardinals or redbirds. Supposedly, spirits of our departed loved ones are visiting us in the form of redbirds. Hogwash. No bird carries the spirit of a departed human. Birds are just birds. The spirits of the departed are at rest. Fiction is just fiction. Let's not mix it up with truth. There was an old belief that a sneeze signified the exit of evil spirits from the body. (I sneeze a lot, so I must be really possessed.) Others would then utter a blessing on the newly cleansed person. The French would say something like "Scat" to chase the spirits away, to avoid their lingering about. My mother's family would say "Scat", but I don't think they had any French in them. There is a quaintness about "Scat" of blessings that doesn't offend. Most superstitions are harmless, like not stepping on a crack. The one about not walking under a ladder is even good; it helps prevent something from falling on you. But things like spirits in birds and wrong ideas about angels mislead people and affects them emotionally. You can tell someone that spilling salt is not bad luck and he will disagree but not get upset. Let someone think his grandmother is visiting him every morning on the back porch through a cardinal; then what happens when the neighbor's cat attacks and kills the bird? |
| I heard someone say I wish for you this year that you have enough__enough money or whatever you need to survive comfortably and get by. I thought that was nice, but I'd go a step further. For anyone who reads this and my friends, family and co-workers, I wish less, enough, and more. Less: physical pain, sickness, heartaches, worry, fear, guilt, sorrow, regrets. Enough: food, money, exercise, rest, health, comfort, wisdom, fellowship, compassion, entertainment. More: beauty, peace, joy, fulfillment, love. That would be a happy year. |
| I want to defend the recent TV production of The Sound of Music. It was marvelous. It was clean and wholesome, so unlike a lot of TV. The live part versus prerecorded made it more fascinating. And the cast was excellent. The sets were great. I'm no acting critic, but I realized Carrie Underwood was a little stiff in the delivery of her lines. Her singing was surprisingly good. She's no Julie Andrews, but who is? Julie is a hard act to follow. As her first major role, this turned out quite well, considering her lack of experience and training. No one was expecting an Oscar nomination. Overall, the show went well. The other actors did quite well. The nostalgia of the movie prevailed. Those of us who grew up seeing the movie know the music quite well and the storyline. The stage production had a few changes, however. The baron broke up with his fiancee for political reasons, for instance. The young governess had nothing to do with it. The fiancee never plotted to send the children away once they were married. She was much nicer and more likeable in this version. The children were more like real children, and by today's standards, a little corny. That's how children were raised at that time. In the movies, children are too polished and worldly.The whole story is a little corny to our hardened, modern perspectives. It's about hope and patriotism, being true to your beliefs, doing what's right instead of profitable. It's not about being politically correct. I think the critics missed a lot. By focusing on the lead actress's inexperience they missed the uplifting message of the story, the inspiration of love, and living for ideals. I felt thoroughly entertained. I laughed, I cried. I wondered anew what I would have done. Could I have left it all behind, and struck out into the unknown for freedom, to live my conscience? SNL made fun of the musical itself, which proves my point that as a society, we have become too cynical, too shallow, to appreciate anything that isn't profane or insane. I hope brave young entertainers will continue to try wholesome entertainment, live art, and new ideas. I believe that Carrie Underwood will get better if she keeps trying. I applaud her efforts. |
| I still don't feel safe in the house. There's always noise--something from the neighbors yard, or a squirrel knocking something down on the back porch, or the creaky old furnace. But now, especially when it starts to get dark, I jump at every sound. I wanted a 10 or 15 minute nap Saturday, but I didn't get it, because I had to keep getting up to check the back door or go outside to look over the house or check the driveway. I ended up sitting with the phone in my hand with my feet up, but by then my time was up. I had to get up and heat up leftovers for dinner. The door stays locked. This neighborhood was so peaceful. We trusted everyone. We felt safe. I would stay here all day with the door open. My dad would be here alone and leave the garage open, while he trimmed hedges or blew leaves. Now the garage stays shut and the only door he leaves unlocked is the one he can see while he's working. Our days of peace and trust are gone. |
| I came home from work about 6:30 or sooner, in the dark, two days before Thanksgiving. There was a strange sedan in the driveway, no one in it. For some reason I was afraid to get close and look inside. The motion lights weren't working at the time, and it was too dark to read the license plate. I rushed inside and locked the door. I turned on the outside lights. I went up the stairs of our split level foyer, which was lit from the outside lights. I went across the living room and turned on the kitchen light. Dad always keeps flashlights there so that he can read the thermostat or have one handy for power failures. His great grandchildren had been visiting Sunday and played with them, running the batteries down. None were good enough to go out and look at the license plate. I had my cellphone in my pocket. Then I heard a noise, but I thought it was coming from the front door. So I went down the steps, hoping it was my niece from out of state showing up for Thanksgiving. But no one was there. This time I opened the garage door to see if there was light in there. No light was on downstairs either. But I stopped as I went up the stairs and screamed my brother's name. He lives in another town, but maybe he had a new car and was napping. I headed up and back to the kitchen again, when some guy popped out of my dad's bedroom down the hallway just before the kitchen. I stopped. He stopped and stared. I could see he was young. I'm an idiot, okay. I never planned or rehearsed this situation. I got angry. I said loudly, "Who the hell are you?" He wobbled across the hall to another doorway, acting like he was doped or slightly drunk. "I'm his nephew". He was nobody's nephew. I was stunned, I supposed. I just stared as he walked closer to me. "What are you doing here?" I was calm, but ticked. He kept coming towards me slowly, wobbly. "I just came to check on him." He was smiling. "Check on who?" "You called his name." I'd had enough. I blew the calm encounter. "You don't belong here." I think this is where I reached out and touched him on the arm. "I'm calling the police. He went past me, into the kitchen, through the dining room where I couldn't see him, and into the living room, while I went for the phone in the kitchen. I don't know why I forgot about the cell phone. He went down the steps, but instead of going out the front door, which he could have easily unlocked from the inside, he went back downstairs. He went out the back door, which I later discovered he had kicked in. 911 answered on the first ring. I talked as I walked the same path down the steps as the intruder. I know he was still in the house, when I said into the phone, "There's an intruder in the house with me right now." I heard my voice shaking for the first time. I made a few steps to the laundry room and saw the door ajar. I retreated to the front door and quickly went outside, but I was too late. The car was gone. I never heard it so I suspect now that someone may have been inside, ducked down, and started the motor while I was inside. The police responded quickly and did a thorough check. We think we know who did it. When my dad showed up half an hour later, I told him what the guy looked like, and he knew it was the helper to a tree trimmer he had used a month before. The bottom line is that he didn't get much. He'd had a gift bag in his hands. It may have been Dad's, or he might have come in with it. He didn't expect mch with such a small bag, if it was his. I knew when I saw it, that he had filled it up with our stuff. It turns out he found a small jar of coins, maybe $20-$40. I did find a dime on the ground on the passenger side where the car had been parked. I had swept the driveway only a few days before, so it was newly dropped. Dad and I don't park that far away from the house. We think we're being targeted, or my Dad is, because he's elderly. This is our second burglary in two months, and we believe the same guy did both. I just caught him red-handed. I'm lucky he didn't put up a fight and was unarmed. But I believe we will all see more crime. |
| I saw MacBeth from NT Live. For those who need to know NT is the National Theater of London. They are now broadcasting particular live plays to 26 countries, so that we may have the opportunity to watch great talent at the same time without going to England. It's not limited to Shakespeare. MacBeth was produced in a church in Manchester, so the venue makes for an interesting twist on the play. The church does not have a stage. The front apse forms the primary acting arena. The floor is covered with mud. To one side, they make use of the raised area sometimes as a church with candles, and sometimes as an alternate stage so that you don't notice the movement of stagehands in the mud. The famous sleep-walking scene is up above the audience to one side. The spirits open second-story doors in the brick wall across from the candle area. A "fence" is built around the audience seating to avoid mud splashes I suppose. The actors sometimes lean or prop their arms on the fence. The fighting is more choreographed than any I've seen in a play. At times, it was like watching a dance troupe. It begins with a long battle scene. The clothes became increasing soiled as the play went on, including the women's dresses. It was a loud play. The drums of battle were almost deafening. Then the spirits open the doors with a tremendous thud. Anyone with ear problems started their headaches at that point. The witches were young and shouted every word. Lady MacBeth screeched and howled during her sleepwalking. I heard a number of people complaining about the yelling throughout. Mostly, I was taken with the fast pace. There was no stopping to catch-up, no intermission, no scene changes, except out of sight of the camera. It was non-stop action. It was almost as though they were a race to say their lines. MacDuff was more normally paced; when his family died, he went through the motions and, perhaps the only time in the whole production, you could relate and actually "feel" something. The rest of the time, you just struggled to keep up with what was going on. Several days later, I heard someone say, "The spirits just weren't what I had in my mind all those years ago in high school." I agreed they were what I expected either. They were young, slim, and moved with agility. Although their faces looked the same color as the mud beneath the feet, you could tell they had nice figures. Their long black dresses were form fitting. We picture old women with bad posture and crooked noses, and maybe a little frumpy. Then I thought that maybe that's the director's point. If this is a play about good and evil, then maybe making the spirits young and sexy might evoke more evil imagery. Maybe that's the point of the mud. Even good people with good intentions can make bad decisions. Once those decisions are made, there's no going back, and more bad decisions have to be made to keep going. The mud gets worse. As for the fast pace, when caught up in evil and guilt, it is a race. We don't have any escape or breather. It's constantly with us. Fate forges ahead without rest for the weary. Like the noise, life overwhelms us when we are troubled. It is a long time to sit still in a theater, but I enjoyed it. If you have the opportunity to see it in your town, I promise it will give you food for thought. |
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