Happy New Year!

 

Bellingham, Washington.

This is the view from my office when I get off of work these days -- nice and almost dark around 4 p.m.  Bellingham certainly has its charms.  Best wishes for 2022!

White Christmas!

White Christmas in Bellingham!  I don't have to drive again until Tuesday, so I'm not complaining.

Merry Christmas!

"May You Be Held"

Sumac, "May You Be Held"

Maybe heavy experimental music doesn't scream Christmas.  Maybe it does.  But I walked at least 100 miles to this over the past year and saw many deer and raptors and wore out at least two perfectly good pairs of shoes.

I braved Costo so tomorrow for Christmas lunch me and my Dad are having some smoked ham, stuffing, gravy, and salad.  My sister turned us both on to the ginormous apple pies they have too.  My Dad has sheepishly been asking me if he can have a piece for breakfast, as if I'd ever say no to pie before lunch for me or anybody else.  What am I, Hitler?

One year ago I was finishing my final teaching contract in South Korea, in lurvely Daegu, and preparing to move back here to America and sleepy Bellingham.  I had no idea what this year held in store for me, what with moving in with my Dad as his full-time caretaker.  I've been getting up at 6 a.m. every morning for almost a year now (which if you knew me in real life would probably shock you more than anything), reading a hell of a lot, writing short stories, and working part-time at the local Humane Society.

Living in the woods north of Bellingham is my life now -- for now -- for the foreseeable future.  None of this was particularly easy, but I hope the worst fights and arguments are over.  Nobody wants to get old, and nobody wants to admit they've grown old, and nobody ever gets too old to realize that they've become old.

That's all crystal clear, I'm sure.

I've got Christmas day off to enjoy the holiday with my Dad, and I'm filling in next week for my co-worker.

I'm not sure where any of this is headed, but I'm trying to make the most of it.  I hope you and your family and your friends find yourself in a good place in 2022, and if that's too much to ask well, May You Be Held.

"a biological contamination of the infinite"

"Here, human beings had to remember that the universe was far wider than their little nest of stars -- that, in the universe at large, silence was always more than the noisiest shout of life.  Humans explored and intruded against it, and built their stations and lived their lives, a biological contamination of the infinite, a local and temporary condition."

-- C. J. Cherryh, Foreigner

Hark

Bellingham, Washington.

I was out and about downtown last night for the Humane Society Christmas party.  It was fun, and rainy of course!

(The Bellingham Herald is the local newspaper, and that's their building.)

What Are You Up To, James?

I've been pretty tight-lipped about the new job, maybe erring on the side of being a bit paranoid about it all.  Not many folks read this here blog anyhow, but it is Bellingham and it is a fairly small town.

I'm a weekend dispatcher for the Animal Control branch of our county Humane Society.  Unlike a lot of American counties, we contract to do Animal Control stuff and it doesn't go through the local police department (which might be what you're used to).  Whatcom County is still highly agricultural, and in addition to cat and dog friends we deal with a lot of livestock issues.

Part of my training involved learning actual radio signals like "10-4" and "10-6" and "10-76" and "11-44."  It's kind of cool, although not nearly as fun as you might think.  The whole point of these codes is to keep talking to a minimum, and information levels high.

I also field calls -- probably the bulk of my job -- for the Animal Control phone line.  There are a lot of reports of dead deer, which we are obligated to pick up, but also welfare checks and vicious dogs and happy but stray dogs and roaming gangs of chickens pooping on their neighbor's yard and causing no end of strife.

I work with some really friendly people and if you follow my Twitter, you'll know by now that pets are allowed at work.

I'm really enjoying it, and I hope this position allows me to keep a work-life-play balance while taking care of my Dad that I haven't really had since I moved back to America.

We shall see!

Snow Day

Bellingham, Washington.

"the reality of ghosts"

     Life and Death

are attributes of the Soul

not of things.  The Ego

is costumed as the road manager

of the soul, every time

the soul plays a date in another town

I goes ahead to set up

the bleechers, or book the hall

as they now have it,

the phenomenon is reported by the phrase

I got there ahead of myself

I got there ahead of my I

is the fact

which not a few anxious mortals

misread as intuition.  The Tibetans

have a treatise on that subjection.

Yet the sad fact is I is

part of the thing

and can never leave it.

This alone constitutes

the reality of ghosts.

Therefore I is not dead.

-- Edward Dorn, Gunslinger

"you have not seen it properly"

"Galileo flew into another tilted mirror, and both shot through it and bounced off it at the same time, either reintegrating or not on the far side, breaking up as he became whole --

'Wait!' he shouted in a panic to Aurora.  'Help.  Help me!' This can't be right, it makes no sense! Help!'

Aurora's voice croaked in his ear, full of amusement.  'No one understands it in the way you mean. Please, relax. Fly on.  Be not afraid.  Bohr once said if you are not shocked by quantum mechanics, you have not seen it properly.  We have come to an aspect of the manifold of manifolds that cannot be understood by recourse to any images from the sensorium, nor by your beloved geometries.  It is contradictory, counter to the senses.  It has to remain at the level of the mathematical abstractions that we are moving among.  But remember, it has been shown that you can use these quantum equations and get physical experimental results of extraordinary accuracy -- in some cases as much as one in a trillion.  In that sense the equations are very demonstrably true.'

'But what does that mean?  I can't understand what I can't see.'

'Not so.  You have been doing that quite frequently now.  Rest easy.  Later the whole of quantum mechanics will be placed in the context of the ten-dimensional manifold of manifolds, and there reconciled to gravity and to general relativity.  Then, if you can go that far, you will feel better about how it is that these equations can work, or be descriptive of a real world.'

'But the results are impossible!'

'Not at all.  There are other dimensions folded into the ones our senses perceive, as I told you.'

-- Kim Stanley Robinson, Galileo's Dream

Cloudy New Day

 

Squalicum Harbor, Bellingham, Washington.

Writerly Stuff

I have two short stories in the new edition of a local, online literary journal (it's free!).  This quarter's theme is "Golden Age," and my two stories are: "Water Meat" about a date in South Korea, and "The Third Loneliest Woman in All of Whatcom County," about working in a kayak factory.

I've been enjoying the other stories as well.

And Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Wherever you are, whatever you're up to, I hope you have a peaceful and happy Thanksgiving.  My sister and my nephew are visiting, and it's always nice to see them.  We're doing pre-made chickens instead of a turkey Because Tradition.  My Dad seems happy, and this will be our first sit-down holiday meal as an entire family (a small family) since -- I honestly can't remember.  Over a decade at least, since I was living in South Korea and only visiting during the summer.

One of My Happy Places

 

Beef tacos from El Tapatio, Bellingham.

I never found good Mexican in South Korea (you gotta use lard, my friends).  So while Seattle might be a better place for finding the good stuff, I like Bellingham and El Tapatio just fine.  My only mistake was to order beef tacos before realizing they also had tongue.  Oh well, there's always next time.

Shai-Halud? It Was Pretty Good!

I finally saw Dune, and I liked it.  Denis Villeneuve is predictably excellent, and the performances and music were great.

I guess my only gripe (although a major one) is that he should have done the whole novel in one film, in one go.  If he doesn't like Marvel films so much, why go down the sequel path?

Rainy Graffiti

Downtown Bellingham, Washington.

"New York Sucks!"

 

Fear on SNL (not the performance, a 10 minute documentary)

This is pretty great -- a short documentary on just how the infamous Fear performance on SNL went down, with tons of Ian MacKaye and John Belushi.

What's not to love?

Moving Right Along

I just finished my fourth day of training at the new job.  It's intense, and I have a lot to learn, but everyone I've met is really great and patient with me.  I'll have more to say eventually, but I think me and my Dad have worked out a schedule that allows him to be happy (not hungry, not too bored) while I'm out of the house.

Does that sound strange?  I guess so, but it makes sense from here.

It's very rainy in Bellingham this fall, that's for certain.

I Got A Job

I went in for my first day of work yesterday (Saturday) and signed a lot of papers, and went out for a pretty long orientation session with my new supervisor.  I'm going to be working weekends in the office of the local Humane Society, and I couldn't be more excited about it.  Everyone I met there seemed nice, and I'm looking forward to making a humble contribution.

How long will I be there?  Very long, hopefully!  The job is a good fit for me, since it still allows me to focus on my Dad.

So things are great.  It's getting colder.  My sister and my nephew are coming out in a few weeks for Thanksgiving.  I've got a ton of raking to do.  I'm keeping up with my five kilometer morning walks.  I'm happy not to be spending time every afternoon looking at local job openings.

This week I'll be training to work the phones.  As of next weekend, I think I'll start working my regular Saturday and Sunday schedule.

I probably won't have a lot more to say about it, other than that it will be nice to get out of the house (hey, even my Dad will probably appreciate having a break from me).

"Home of the Big Bun!"

No, Bellingham doesn't have In and Out, but we do have Grant's!  I treated myself after my first day of work yesterday (yes, that's a vanilla shake).  Pretty good stuff.  Would nom again.

Making Plans for James

I just accepted a new job.  It's part time, so I can focus on taking care of my Dad, and for the first time in over a decade it's not teaching.  I'm going to start my training this Saturday.  I'll have more to say about it later, but it's a great organization and so far I've really enjoyed meeting the people I'll be working with.

When I lived out here for a year before moving to South Korea I made kayaks.  It was a tough, physical job (I wore a hardhat even!) but it payed off all of my debts before I moved onto that adventure abroad.  Things are much different now -- for the better.  Bellingham is not and never will be the best place to find solid, middle-class work (it's about one half retirees who come out and build their own houses, so construction is actually a growth field) so I'm feeling pretty good about myself, to be honest.  Based on my experience out here 12 years ago, there are a lot more places hiring and starting wages are a lot higher (almost double in some cases) what they used to be.  This is a very good thing!

Money Always Wins -- A Halloween Story

For your Halloween reading pleasure and delectation, a story from me (cw: gore).  Happy Halloween!

Money Always Wins

The plan for Halloween was simple.  Stranded at that frustrating age between enjoying a night collecting free candy and a night of hard drinking and dancing in as little clothing and as much body paint as possible, the potential hook-up and all, Sasha, Sasha, and Joaquin decided to make their own fun.  They were all students at the local high school way up and out of town to the north, practically Canada but not quite.  Fall had already moved in – not the crisp, bright autumns you see in movies set in New England where people pick apples in over-priced fleece vests, but the rainy, dank fall of Bellingham, Washington.  The leaves didn't crunch under your feet as much as they turned to mush, and fat, confused slugs wondered where the sunshine was hiding before being pancaked by truck tires.  Battered pairs of jeans and leather jackets, each a size or two too small, were their uniforms now – like shivering little Ramones for the next five months.  Only tourists or old people would be caught wearing weather appropriate gear out here.  Sasha G., rarely acknowledged as pack leader but leader all the same, had made plans for the Saturday night before Sunday, Halloween day.  They were going to break in and search through the abandoned tribal casino just off the highway towards Mount Baker.

Sasha G. came from even further up the highway, where a few generations back a local Orthodox church had payed to bring entire families of fellow believers over from Russia.  There hadn't been too much thought put into just what these families would do once they were settled in the wilds north of the town proper, but construction jobs were usually plentiful.  People liked to retire out here – buy a piece of land with more trees than they knew what to do with, then cut them all down to make lawns, almost out of fright at so much wild nature being allowed to remain in place.  So a snowball of plumbers, electricians, and general workers who knew how to use a chain saw (or pretended to) could make something of a living out here along with the retirees from California and their pensions.  That's what Sasha G.'s own father did, close to retirement now himself, as well as Sasha B.'s father before the heart attack.  Joaquin's dad was a dentist in town but liked living out here with the deer and the squirrels and the rabbits, who actually seemed to love the isolation and quiet despite the fact that his wife and son very much did not.

Fall Color

Bellingham, Washington.

Lovely fall color.  Of course, I'll have to rake it all up eventually.

Sic transit gloria, amirite?

On Finally Reading Ezra Pound's The Cantos

I've had a relatively large amount of free time since I moved back to America from South Korea, and yet I've also been busier than expected in taking care of my Dad.  It's not a job exactly, but it requires a lot of attention to detail and scheduling just like, say, a "real" job.  But I have managed to read more in 2021 than I have since graduate school, and almost entirely for my own pleasure -- mostly novels, some history, and some poetry -- something I read very little of while living in Daegu.  This fall I've also started picking and eating wild mushrooms, only for myself -- not out of gluttony, but because poisoning my 92 year-old father at this point would be a pretty bad look.

I bought myself a copy of Ezra Pound's The Cantos, the big black 824 page edition from New Directions than any former English major will recognize -- a commanding, uninviting tome, even before you open it.  And while I read it for my own enjoyment (or lack thereof), not taking too many notes, I'd say it took me about a week and half to get through it.  I came to it familiar with the often anthologized bits, and a great like -- not quite love -- of his early, less ambitious works.  (Personae is a great place to start.)

So I say this with the vigor of any personal artistic opinion -- it is a deeply silly, unnecessary work on so many levels.  How it held so much sway -- so much power -- over English poetry in the 20th century is beyond me.  It is about one half gibberish -- intentional gibberish -- met with multiple laments against "n*ggers" and "k*kery" and, maybe to balance things out, Thomas Jefferson.  (John Berryman could pull this off most of the time in The Dream Songs.  When Pound tries to emulate foreign or, let's face it, black speech patterns it comes off as simply dull and cruel, like the worst jock to ever hold sway in a locker-room.)

"I wake up to a sunny day"

 

Eddie Rabbitt, "I Love A Rainy Night" live

Let's face it, people -- part of getting older means your tolerance for cheesiness increases exponentially.  I love this song.

Things move ahead slowly here in this tiny county just south of Canada.  I'll have more to say (of course!) but I've got two short stories getting published soon with a local online journal.  This will be my first published fiction, and I'm excited about it.  I'm also dealing with some South Korea stuff, believe it or not.  I really want to visit the country this February, but I won't go if the mandatory 14-day quarantine is still in effect.  Koreans and Korea-based expats are optimistic this will end soon, but who knows.  I've got a job interview this week which I'll also keep under wraps for a bit, although I'm optimistic about it.  And finally, I've been living for nine months with my 92 year-old Dad.  I think he's relatively happy, and I'm not sure if you can ask much more than that.  We'll go into town tomorrow (Monday) for some dawn-light grocery shopping, which is one of our rituals out here along with Saturday and Sunday football watching.

It's getting cold.  Bellingham kind of goes straight from summer to rainy, bleak winter, but I'm one of those weirdos who likes raw onion on his sandwiches and copious amounts of rain.

"a global humanitarian crisis"

There is nothing wrong, nothing at all, at this stage of Late Capitalism:

"Mohamed Arrachedi, the union’s Middle East coordinator, said he wakes up to dozens of WhatsApp messages from distraught sailors around the world: 'It’s a global humanitarian crisis.'

In the United Arab Emirates, one shipping company abandoned seven container ships in recent months, leaving behind dozens of crew members, each owed a year’s wages. A five-man crew marooned next to a Dubai tourist resort, living off little more than rice for 10 months, recently ended a four-year ordeal.

Last year, a mostly Egyptian crew was abandoned in Sudan. The ship was then sold and manned by a mostly Sudanese crew who also were abandoned in Egypt. Three of them are still aboard, floating off the Suez Canal in their ninth month without pay.

The surge in cases prompted three of the world’s largest seafaring nations—China, Indonesia and the Philippines—to propose in August the establishment of a seafarers’ mutual emergency fund to help abandoned crews.

Trade disruptions caused by the pandemic and the nature of the competitive, lightly regulated global shipping industry has helped drive the increase in the number of stranded sailors."

Tell me again -- who, exactly, are the pirates? 

Important Sports Post

This prediction is more aspirational than not, but I'm looking for Tampa Bay and Milwaukee to play in the World Series.

Update: Ouch.  Fuck the Astros.  I honestly don't care for any of these teams, except maybe the Dodgers or Giants.

Sad Sculpture

Bellingham, Washington.

A creepy abandoned casino, just in time for Halloween.

Widowmaker!

Things move along out here in the wilds of northern Bellingham.  Fall came in quicker than I expected -- lots of rain, and I've already got leaves to rake.  One thing you'll start to see out here are widowmakers, which are trees that don't quite manage to fall during rain or wind-storms.  If you look at this picture from left up to the right you'll see a medium sized tree snapped and fell into one across from it.  At any point (probably the next storm) it's going to fall.

So that's your little bit of Pacific Northwest wisdom / safety for today.

"something of a taboo"

South Korean president Moon Jae-In is asking people, maybe, to give up dog meat:

"The meat has long been a part of South Korean cuisine with about 1 million dogs believed to be eaten annually, but consumption has declined as more people embrace the animals as companions rather than livestock.

The practice is something of a taboo among younger generations and pressure from animal rights activists has been mounting.

'Hasn’t the time come to prudently consider prohibiting dog meat consumption?' Moon asked the prime minister, Kim Boo-kyum, during a weekly meeting on Monday, according to the presidential spokesperson.

South Korea’s pet industry is on the rise, with a growing number of people living with dogs at home – the president among them. Moon is a known dog lover and has several canines at the presidential compound, including one he rescued after taking office.

Adopting Tory was one of Moon’s pledges during his presidential campaign and the pooch became the first rescue dog to make its way into the Blue House."

I've done a ton of posts like these over the years, but never has a prominent South Korean official come out and suggested a straight-up ban.  I'm very happy to see he's adopted a rescue animal as well.

"one more time"

"These are pointless questions.  The only reason I have lived so long is that I let go of my past.  Shut the door on grief on regret on remorse.  If I let them in, just one self-indulgent crack, whap, the door will fling open gales of pain ripping through my heart blinding my eyes with shame breaking cups and bottles knocking down jars shattering windows stumbling bloody on spilled sugar and broken glass terrified gagging until with a final shudder and sob I shut the heavy door.  Pick up the pieces one more time."

-- Lucia Berlin, "Homing"

"perfect language swap"

Where does right-wing extremism come from, and why are so many ostensibly "liberal" people falling for it?  George Monbiot takes a stab:

"I believe this synthesis of left-alternative and rightwing cultures has been accelerated by despondency, confusion and betrayal. After left-ish political parties fell into line with corporate power, the right seized the language they had abandoned. Steve Bannon and Dominic Cummings brilliantly repurposed the leftwing themes of resisting elite power and regaining control of our lives. Now there has been an almost perfect language swap. Parties that once belonged on the left talk about security and stability while those on the right talk of liberation and revolt.

But I suspect it also has something to do with the issues we now face. A justified suspicion about the self-interest of big pharma clashes with the need for mass vaccination. The lockdowns and other measures required to prevent Covid-19 spreading are policies which, in other circumstances, would rightly be seen as coercive political control. Curtailing the pandemic, climate breakdown and the collapse of biodiversity means powerful agreements struck between governments – which can be hard to swallow for movements that have long fought multilateral power while emphasising the local and the homespun."

Books, Books, Books

I'm reading Lucia Berlin's A Manual for Cleaning Women and honestly, it's floored me more than once so far.  Funny, dark, just sentimental enough when it needs to be, and spare, vivid language throughout.

I've been reading a ton since I got to Bellingham last February, and this is easily the best thing I've come across.

Where We Are

Trying to explain to a Korean friend why so many Americans are refusing free, safe vaccines.

It's because for some people the vaccine represents, basically, government and science working. Working really well, actually.

They would (literally!) rather die than admit that.

— James (@wetcasements) September 19, 2021

'ripple effect'

Since nobody asked, me and my father (and my sister by association) have been incredibly cautious regarding COVID.  My dad is in very good shape for being 92, but there's no way in hell we're going to take any extra risks with regards to exposing him to anything.  We go shopping roughly once a week, and both of us mask up.  I'm happy to say that at least here in Bellingham our favorite grocery stores are very good about enforcing masks, and social distancing to a lesser extent.  All of us got our dual shots, and I'm planning on taking my Dad in for his booster this December, eight months after his second dose of Moderna.

So I guess the good news is that in this very rural, politically mixed area, people are doing what they can to stem the tide of the virus.

Then, there's the bad news or more simply, what happens when one state does what it can to stop the virus spread and a neighboring one "pulls a Florida":

"In conservative northern Idaho, only about 4 in 10 eligible residents are fully vaccinated. Hospitals there are so packed that authorities announced last week facilities would be allowed to ration care, potentially giving life-saving care to some patients at the expense of others.

Hospitals there have sent patients to hospitals in Washington, particularly in Spokane [eastern Washington], though how many is not clear. The New York Times reported Monday that as of last week, Providence Sacred Heart in Spokane had patients from Idaho taking up 29 beds.

Briley said that while it’s normal for eastern Washington hospitals to treat patients from Idaho and vice versa, the influx of COVID patients had caused 'some ripple effect' in western Washington.

'We are keeping our head above water, but barely,' said Dr. Christopher Baliga, an infectious disease specialist at Seattle’s Virginia Mason hospital. 'Our capacity to absorb overwhelmed patients from other states is severely limited.'”

It's almost as if peeing your pants over your "rights" and "freedoms" to not wear a mask or take a safe, free vaccine, is meaningless in the face of a global pandemic.

And no, Washington State shouldn't take any more patients from Idaho.  Not anybody who has chosen not to get the vaccine, at least.

"the now city loves us all"

 

The Sea and Cake, "Bombay"

Things are mostly fine here in Bellingham.  The fall rains are setting in, which I actually quite like.  The snow will be here soon enough I imagine.  I've applied for some jobs and am waiting to hear back, albeit impatiently.  If this was South Korea I'd probably have started somewhere by now, but you have to respect the patterns and rhythms of the rural Pacific Northwest.

Norm MacDonald has died.  Maybe I wasn't his biggest fan, but when he was good he was amazing.  And by good I mean weird and a bit hostile to the audience, or to the standards of standup comedy at least.

There is some tree trimming that needs to be done, and we just worked on some well issues but should be set for the near future.  I'm getting back into American football, if only because when it's on it means we don't have to watch FOX News.  I'll take it.

I'm also making plans to visit South Korea in February.  There's still a 14-day quarantine in effect for foreigners though, so I'm hoping that might change soon.  It would be far too time- and money-intensive otherwise.  (You have to pay the South Korean government anywhere between 1.5 and 2 thousand bucks for the honor of being confined to a hotel room for two weeks.)

Ocean Lady Insights

One small regret about my time in South Korea is that I never made it to Jeju Island, very roughly the "Hawaii" of the country, a beautiful island off the south coast.  It's famous for seafood, pork made from special black pigs, and the "Ocean Women" -- middle aged women who free dive for various ocean foods.  The U.S. Navy is now studying them for insights into preventing hypothermia:

"His so-called crazy idea is to eventually engineer these microorganisms that maintain a symbiotic relationship with their host humans to generate heat when the environmental temperature drops.

'Basically, what we want to develop is a genetic circuit -- we call it a genetic circuit -- that is basically in the bacteria that allow microbes to increase heat production in response to temperature downshift,' he said.

The microbes, he said, would also be able to reduce heat generation if exposed to a warm environment to maintain homeostasis of the human body."

Why not? 

"the tar tar pits"

Polyglot tautologies, where you name something for what is already is, are amazing:

"The River Avon, running through Shakespeare’s hometown Stratford-Upon-Avon, is another example. 'Avon' in an ancient Celtic language means 'river' – so the River Avon is more properly the River River. The La Brea Tar Pits manage to be redundant in two ways: La Brea is Spanish for 'the tar' – so the La Brea Tar Pits effectively mean 'the the tar tar pits.'"

Wiki has a handy list of them. 

Why Washington Will Never Forgive Biden For Doing The Right Thing

It's money, of course:

"But the generals who led the mission — including McChrystal, who sought and supervised the 2009 American troop surge — have thrived in the private sector since leaving the war.  They have amassed influence within businesses, at universities and in think tanks, in some cases selling their experience in a conflict that killed an estimated 176,000 people, cost the United States more than $2 trillion and concluded with the restoration of Taliban rule.

The eight generals who commanded American forces in Afghanistan between 2008 and 2018 have gone on to serve on more than 20 corporate boards, according to a review of company disclosures and other releases."

"he expects them to be precisely met"

"'I will never understand the English,' said Lisl.  She trumped, picked up the trick, smiled, and led again.  Having said she didn't understand the English, she proceeded to explain the English to us.  That was berlinerisch too; the people of Berlin are reluctant to admit to ignorance of any kind.  'If an Englishman says there's no hurry, that means it must be done immediately.  If he says he doesn't mind, it means he minds very much.  If he leaves any decision t you by saying "If you like" or "When you like", be on your guard -- he means that he's made his requirements clear, and he expects them to be precisely met.'

'Are you going to let this slander go unchallenged, Bernard?' said Koch.  He liked a little controversy, providing he could be the referee.

I smiled.  I'd heard it all before."

-- Len Deighton, London Match

"he was always telling me so"

"Sometimes I wondered how much money went through his hands for him to be able to run this place with its desirable living accommodations for the servants, a self-contained wing for his guests, and heated stabling for his horses.  I parked my battered Ford between Kimber-Hutchinson's silver Rolls and his wife's Jaguar.  The Kimber-Hutchinsons wouldn't have a foreign car.  It wasn't simply a matter of patriotism, the old man once told me, it would upset some of his customers.  Poor fellow, he needed handmade shoes because of his 'awkward feet' and Savile Row suits because he wasn't lucky enough to have the figure for ready-made ones.  Cheap wines played havoc with his stomach so he drank expensive ones, and because he couldn't fit into economy-size airline seats he was forced to go everywhere first class.  Poor David, he envied people like me; he was always telling me so."

-- Len Deighton, Mexico Set

Boring Political Post

Joe Biden did exactly the right thing re: Afghanistan.  And come November 2024 he'll be remembered as the guy who got us out of a terrible, wasteful Forever War.  If the economy is in good shape (especially regarding higher wages) and COVID is under control, in that people who want their free vaccine shots have gotten and will continue to get them, he'll win a second term pretty easily.  You have to be an enormously terrible incumbent not to win a second term in America, for starters.

I'm willing to bet anyone five bucks at least.

America was led into a two-decade occupation under the most false pretenses imaginable -- that a functioning government, let alone a democracy, can be imposed from the outside rather than grown organically from within.  No wonder that the very same "serious" people, and the institutions that pay them handsomely in the military and the media, are now headed for the fainting couch now that the spigot of blood and treasure is being turned off for good.

"This is not California. . ."

"Before he could answer, the door from one of the other adjoining rehearsal rooms swung open.  A plump man came in dragging a small child and a cello, one in each hand.  'Now here's Dr. Munte,' said the fat man to his son.  'Ask him how long you need every day.'  He turned to us and said, 'Getting the little devil to practice would try the patience of a saint.  All he thinks about is American jazz.  Talk to him, Dr. Munte.  Tell him he's got to practice.  Tell him he must play real music, German music.'

'If the interest, is lacking, the child will never love music, Herr Spengler.  Perhaps you should let him do what he wants.'

'Yes, that's the modern way, isn't it,' said the fat man, not bothering to hide his annoyance at Munte's lack of support.  'Well, I don't believe in the modern way.  This is not California. . . .'  He studied my appearance and seemed to guess that I was not an East Berliner.  But, having decided that I was not a foreigner, he continued: 'We are Germans, aren't we?  This is not California -- yet.  And may the Lord protect us from the sort of things that go on over there in the West.  If I say my son is going to practice the cello, he'll do it.  Do you hear that, Lothar?  You'll practice every night for an hour before you go out to play football with your friends."

'Yes, Vaterchen,' said the boy with affection.  He held his father's hand tightly until the man unclasped it in order to get his keys from his pocket.  The boy seemed reassured by his father's dictum.

That fat man put the cello into a locker and closed the door.  Then he locked it with a padlock.  'You're not strong enough for football,' he said loudly as they went out.  The little boy grabbed his father's hand again.

'We Germans find reassurance in tyranny,' said Munte sadly.  'That's always been our downfall."

-- Len Deighton, Berlin Game

Afghanistan

The only way to win a Forever War is to not start one in the first place.

"Yeah, Throw Me Down The Keys"

The Rolling Stones, "Can't You Hear Me Knockin" live 2013

Charlie Watts has died.  For my money he was the most interesting personality in the band, if only because he always shied away from the attention Jagger and Richards were willing to bask in.

Let's Do This

I have my first job interview in 11 years tomorrow.

I think I feel O.K. about it, just planning on getting a good sleep, set out some decent clothes and a necktie.

I'd like to think the hard part -- updating my resume and putting together a cover letter -- was the most difficult part.

Deming Eagle Park

 

Bellingham, Washington.

"infinite like the sky"

"In the Pawnees' opinion the whites were headed for the big trading post that was being built on the Arkansas -- so that was where Greasy Lake decided to go.  There was always the likelihood of finding interesting goods around a new trading post.  The whites were always inventing useful things.  Though Greasy Lake had no money he could sometimes get the whites to exchange goods for prophecies.  Usually he just made simple prophecies, informing them of the location of a nice buffalo herd he had happened to pass.  This kind of information might even earn him a new gun, if the whites were in a generous mood.

The sight of the lost balloonist, drinking muddy water from a puddle when there was a fine spring in plain sight, reminded Greasy Lake that there was really no predicting the eccentricities of whites, and no exaggerating their ineptitude.  For one thing they kept producing watches and clocks, instruments that were supposed to measure time and break it into units, when common sense should have told them that the notion that time could be cut up, like a buffalo shank or a fish, was simply absurd.  Time lay all one, open and eternal, infinite like the sky.  Of course, there were seasons, the moon waxed and waned, the geese flew south or north, and yet all the while time remained unaffected and unchanged."

-- Larry McMurtry, By Sorrow's River

"finding somebody living in your area who shared your very peculiar hobby was not an easy task"

Last year I finally finished Jon Peterson's Playing at the World, a history of roleplaying games as they grew out of a surprisingly long and rich history of tabletop war games.  I thought it was longer than it needed to be, but as a well-sourced academic work it's hard to criticize.  This interesting article by Giaime Alonge gets into some of the cultural context surrounding the rise of modern war board games in the 1960's simultaneously with the anti-Vietnam war movement:

"Should we assume that there was a morbid fascination with Nazism among wargamers? I would say 'yes', at least in part. One of the most important sections of the aforementioned magazine The General was the 'Opponents Wanted' page. In the pre-Internet era, finding somebody living in your area who shared your very peculiar hobby was not an easy task. Wargamers used ads to find playing mates. Several of these ads clearly state a preference for playing the Germans – or even the Japanese – in games on World War Two. Some ads go even further, like one from a 1971 issue, which reads: 'The Fuehrer desires a good Joe to crush in Stalingrad.'[17] Actually, some of the interest in playing the Nazis has strictly technical reasons. Besides games specifically devoted to the last phase of the conflict, in World War Two games the German player is usually the one on the offensive, at least in the first part of the game, and one could argue that wargamers normally prefer to attack. In some ads, authors say that they prefer playing the Germans in games where the Axis has the initiative, but want to play the Allies in Anzio (1969), a game about the Italian campaign, where the Germans are on the defensive from the very beginning. Moreover, one of the main pleasures in playing a wargame is achieving a result that is different from the historical outcome. You thus might want to win World War Two with the Axis, as you might want to win the battle of Waterloo with the French. It would then mean that you would have been 'smarter' than Napoleon. Nonetheless, dismissing this whole phenomenon with simply technical reasons would be naïve and misleading. There was a fascination with Nazism. After all, in the 1970s, Nazi paraphernalia were widespread in American and European popular culture. Susan Sontag’s well-known 1975 essay Fascinating Fascism elaborates on this point in detail.[18] Wargames were following the current."

The article also reminds us that Dungeons and Dragons, a game where you roleplay a violent vagabond, kill monsters, and take their stuff, was created in part by Gary Gygax, a lifelong pacifist and Jehovah's Witness. 

Fail

Even after a failed 20 year occupation of Afghanistan, the "mainline" U.S. view, even on liberal stations like MSNBC, is that the presence of the military is a stabilizing force everywhere and anywhere.  It just doesn't always work out, for some darn reason.

Life After Korea

I'm applying for some part time jobs.  I haven't updated (haven't had to update) my resume and materials for over a decade, so I give myself a little credit for taking some serious time to work on these things over the past few weeks.

In lieu of a longer post on how tough it is to find a job after coming back from South Korea, something that so many people droned on about when I lived in Daegu, I just have to say that, well, you get back what you put in.  For starters, yes, not having a network sucks but then again, I'm living in a place where I literally know nobody except my Dad and his immediate neighbors.  A good network probably wouldn't be that much help to me right now due to simple geography.  Next, and this was my feeling back in Korea, you're going to develop as much or as little as a professional as you want to no matter where you live.  Believe me, I'm not a diligent self-starter by any means, but during my 12 years abroad I managed to learn some of the language, co-publish a scholarly article, edited an ESL text by a professor at my college, and let my boss know that I'd be happy to help him edit (or write) things for the school as needed.  I also developed, or created from nothing, a decent set of teaching materials that I might end up using again.

The point being, I'm not sure why teaching English abroad is seen as a professional black hole by so many folks.  It certainly doesn't qualify me for doing brain surgery, but over the years I feel like I did a reasonable job at self-improvement and, more bluntly, getting worthwhile stuff onto my resume.  And it seems like my secondary cultural experiences don't hurt -- if anything, maybe I stand out a bit.

It's a process of course, and we'll see how it goes.  I've applied for both classroom teaching jobs and more education-adjacent positions.  Putting my cover letter together I never felt weakened or at a loss for explaining why a decade in Korea makes me a stronger candidate than I was before I left.

I should have worked harder on my Korean, definitely.  But it was nice to hear from some of my former bosses that they'd be more than happy to give me positive recommendations.  My resume has a larger "narrative" that I can handle teaching ESL or English composition, and that I had a fairly productive last decade.  I'm not sure what more ESL folks are expecting from work history, either in Korea or in some mythical "perfect" job back here in America.

Work is work.

Lonesome Whistle

 

Bellingham, Washington.

"you're just drunk"

"'Then I'll unmarry you, you insolent wench,' Lord B. managed to thunder.  'You can't just fob off the nobility of Europe like that.  I'll seek an annulment -- consider yourself confined to your room.'

'Here's a priest. . . he must know how to arrange annulments,' he added.

Father Geoffrin merely chuckled.

'Oh, not I, Your Lordship,' he said.  'I should think you have to apply to the Holy Father directly in a matter of that significance.'

'The Holy See is unfortunately rather distant from the Missouri River,' he added, unnecessarily Mary thought.'

'Wouldn't work anyway -- not only am I married, I'm with child,' Tasmin said.  'Pregnant, to put it bluntly.'

'What?  You harlot, I'm ruined!' said Lord Berrybender.  'Where is the fellow?  I'll kill him!'

'You're not ruined at all, you're just drunk,' Tasmin informed him.

Seconds later Lord B. began to sway, then to sway more, and finally to heave.  The remains of his modest dinner, and a great deal of wine besdies, came up in Simon Le Page's lap, to the horror of Mademoiselle Pellenc, who at once took command of the young trader and led him away, meaning to clean him up.'"

-- Larry McMurtry, Sin Killer

A Simple Country Life

I'm updating my resume for the first time since 2009 or so.  That is all.

Also, it's raining for the first time in two months.  I guess that wasn't all.

Perpetual Forehead Slap

Americans are the biggest fucking babies in the world.#scientifictweet #objectivetweet#accuratetweet

— James (@wetcasements) August 5, 2021

"this hard mineral gravitational scene"

"As I am writing this story it will be evident that I survived, and I cannot hope to convey what the experience was like, how long it was, how terrible, how hopeless: a primal experience of a total loss of hope.  Falling, what the child fears, what the man dreads, is itself the image of death, of the defencelessness of the body, of its frailty and mortality, its absolute subjection to alien causes.  Even in a harmless fall in the road there is a little moment of horror when the faller realizes that he cannot help himself; he has been taken over by a relentless mechanism and must continue with it to the end and be subject to the consequences.  'There is nothing more I can do.'  How long, how infinitely expansible, a second is when it contains this thought, which is an effigy of death.  A complete fall into the void, something which I had often imagined on aeroplanes, is of course the most terrible thing of all.  Hands, feet, muscles, all the familiar protective mechanisms of the body are suddenly useless.  The enmity of matter is unleashed against the frail breakable crushable animal form, always perhaps an alien in this hard mineral gravitational scene."

-- Iris Murdoch, The Sea, The Sea

Ah, Nature

We've got an owl living above the house now.  I wish I could say I've made friends with it, but I've seen it hunting three separate times now and it's absolutely terrifying.  Chipmunks do not die quietly.

How Many Olympic Medals Did Rush Limbaugh Bring Home?

I guess immigrants and women of color are too damn busy winning America glory and medals at the Olympics to worry what Republicans / Trump supporters think of them today.

— James (@wetcasements) July 29, 2021

"misfortune and disgrace"

"The post of President is always forced on some particularly noxious and unpopular citizen.  To be elected President is the greatest misfortune and disgrace that can befall an Islander.  The humiliations and ignominy are such that few Presidents live out their full term of office, usually dying of a broken spirit after a year or two.  The Expeditor had once been President and served the full five years of his term.  Subsequently he changed his name and underwent plastic surgery, to blot out, as far as possible, the memory of his disgrace."

-- William Burroughs, Naked Lunch

"technosignatures"

The Galileo Project is looking for intelligent life in our universe, but not through radio or light signals, but rather physical objects:

"Rather than searching for electromagnetic signals, the Galileo Project will search for physical objects associated with extraterrestrial technological equipment, also known as technosignatures.

The project will follow three major avenues of research: obtain high-resolution images of UAP through multi-detector sensors to discover their nature, search and conduct in-depth research on 'Oumuamua-like' interstellar objects, and search for potential ETC satellites.

'It is very important that we keep in mind that the Galileo Project is not for everything, and it is not for everyone,' said Laukien. 'It has a defined scope, and it has limitations,' he added, referring to the project’s aim of only exploring known physics explanations rather than speculating on prior UAPs [unidentified aerial phenomena], alleged observations and informal reports."

It's becoming clearer by the day that the Earth would be better off without humans.  And I love the phrase "technosignature," even though it's klunky as hell.

Are We The Baddies?

No, the Republicans haven't "turned" on vaccination.  They still hate things like science and expertise and empiricism in general.  What's happned is that more folks are (rightfully) willing to say what needs to be said -- if you aren't immunocompromised and haven't gotten the (free, easy to get) shot/s yet, you're the fucking asshole, not us.

Florida, Texas, Arkansas, and the rest of Red America writ large is going to be awash in preventable deaths this coming fall and winter.  No tears will be shed over in this part of rural-ass Bellingham.

"something of narcissism in this"

"It's clear, then, that always our real interest has been not in any particular place, but rather in our ability to get to that place.  It's the process of exploration itself that fascinates us, not the places we explore.  There is perhaps something of narcissism in this.  So, these days we hear all about the asteroids, the moons of Jupiter and Saturn, the clouds of Venus, and so on.  These places are the new focus of our interest, of our primal urge to walk over the next ridge and see what's there.  There are the next hardest place to reach, and said to be supremely fascinating, but what will happen when we reach them?

Anyway, now here I am, on the moon.  After the Americans got to it in the twentieth century, they left, and for a long time it rolled in our sky, empty as it had always been.  A bone-white ball of rubble.  Airless, freeze-dried, unlivable, without extractable resources.  Why go back, having been there already?"

-- Kim Stanley Robinson, Red Moon

"that will be inflicted upon lesser beings"

"Silas ran his hand lovingly over the outdoor tomatoes.  One of them, full size and deep red, he picked and weighed in his hand.  'Oxford and Cambridge provide an excellent opportunity to learn, although not better than any well-motivated student can find in a first-class library.  But an Oxbridge education can make graduates feel that they are members of some privileged elite, destined to lead and make decisions that will be inflicted upon lesser beings.  Such elitism must of necessity be based on expectations that are often unfulfilled.  Thus Oxbridge has not only provided Britain with its most notable politicians and civil servants but its most embittered traitors too.'  Silas smiled sadly, as if the traitors had played a long-forgiven and half-forgotten prank upon him."

-- Len Deighton, Spy Sinker

"lunatic contraptions, and some of them worked"

"People escaped in gliders, hang gliders, microlites, and even hot-air balloons,' said Werner helpfully.  He was looking at me with some curiosity, trying to guess why I'd got Lange started on one of his favorite topics.

'Oh, sure,' said Lange.  'No end of lunatic contraptions, and some of them worked.  But only the really cheap ideas were safe and reliable.'

'Cheap?' I said.  I hadn't heard this theory before.

'The more money that went into an escape, the greater the number of people involved in it, and so the greater the risk.  One way to defray the cost was to sell it to newspapers, magazines, or TV stations.  You could sometimes raise the money that way, but it always meant having cameramen hanging around on street corners or leaning out of upstairs windows.  Some of those young reporters didn't know their ass from their elbow.  The pros would steer clear of any escapes the media were involved with.'

'The tunnels were the best,' pronounced Werner, who'd become interested in Lange's lecture despite himself."

-- Len Deighton, Spy Line

Speaking of Conspicuous Consumption

I gotta say, Rich Assholes In Space is my least favorite Netflix of 2021 so far...

— James (@wetcasements) July 20, 2021

Heavy Industry

 

Whatcom County, Washington.

"misrepresented to further a political agenda"

Vox on how the wellness and new-age health industry is kinda sort very racist, and Orientalist in particular:

"Cultural exports are a complex, inevitable result of globalization, and cultural appropriation doesn’t always carry negative effects. As Asian-inspired practices and treatments edge toward the mainstream, the problem isn’t necessarily appropriation. It’s what appropriation can produce: an Orientalist perspective toward non-Western practices that can be misrepresented to further a political agenda.

The process by which this happens is likely familiar to anyone with a passing knowledge of Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop, although this type of appropriation predates the brand by decades. It usually begins with an influential (usually white) Westerner who encounters a practice with origins in East or South Asia. The person integrates the tradition into their lifestyle, publicly touts its benefits, and helps disseminate a version of the practice to their own community. (Such was the case for acupuncture in 1971, after a New York Times reporter wrote about the benefits of his treatment in China.)"

As always, there's nothing wrong with "borrowing" from other cultures but it takes a hell of lot of work to fully understand the context and history and what you're borrowing.

Of course, read the whole article which is very good and gets into the overlap between right-wing Nazis and ostensibly "left" New Age hippie, anti-vaccine types.

One Thing That I Can Depend On

Along with a new car I've been taking the time to go through my music collection and finally get rid of stuff that I simply don't or have never listened to.  It's still painful, since I don't really collect anything other than books or music, but it's interesting that I left behind at least 150 novels in Daegu and couldn't have cared less.  But for some reason deleting an album from my hard drive always makes me hesitate, even when it's more than likely available on Youtube.

Anyhow, I pared my collection from about 65 gigs down to 60, and that fits somewhat snugly on my new phone.  (I am just filled with the spirit of conspicuous consumption these days.)  I also got rid of iTunes, which felt great.  Over the past decade it's managed to garble and/or murder a lot of albums that I'm going to have a less than easy time replacing.

It's interesting that new cars (my car at least) don't come with CD players any longer.  I spent an hour playing with satellite radio, and I was thoroughly unimpressed.  The thought of a long drive where I'm dependent on someone else's taste in music honestly frightens me more than it should.

Anyhow, as I told some ex-pat friends, I guess I'm an American now, again.  Having my music library all set makes that go down a little smoother than it would otherwise.

"We're part of another world."

"He sipped his brandy and smiled sadly.  'She adores you, of course.  Any fool could see that.  I could see it in her eyes as soon as you walked into the house.  Never takes her eyes off you.  But she's just a child.  She has a life ahead of her.  How old are you? . . .  Over forty, right?'

'Yes,' I said.

'She's determined on this university business.  You'll not persuade her otherwise.  She'll go to college.  And there she'll meet brilliant people of her own age, and because they are at college they'll all end up sharing the same appalling tastes and the same half-baked opinions.  We're old fossils.  We're part of another world.  A world of the dinosaurs.'  He swigged his brandy and poured more.  There was a lot of spite in him.  His friendly advice was really a way of hurting me.  And it was a method difficult to counter.

I said, 'Yes, thanks a lot, Dodo.  But, the way I see it, you are indisputably an old tyrannosaurus, but I'm a young, dynamic, brilliant individual in the prime of life, and Gloria is an immature youngster.'

He laughed out loudly enough to rupture my eardrums, and he grabbed my shoulder to save himself from falling over.

'Zu, darling!' he shouted gleefully and loud enough for her to hear him from the kitchen.  'Where did you find this lunatic?'"

-- Len Deighton, Spy Hook

Graveyard, Empires, Yadda, Yadda, Yadda

If only America could stay in Afghanistan another 20 years and get it right this time...

— James (@wetcasements) July 9, 2021

Yikes

I miss a lot of things about my life in Daegu, but the summer weather isn't one of them.  Those violent storms early in the week are relatively short, and just make everything even more humid and swamp-like.

Everything In America Is O.K.

Was it only four years ago when right-wing pundits were desperate to remind everybody that Trump's victory was a) due to "economic anxiety," not white supremacy and b) was no big deal?

This is unbelievable.  By that I mean, totally believable:

"The book details a phone call the day after the January 6 insurrection between Milley and Cheney, the Wyoming Republican who has close military ties. Cheney voted to impeach Trump and has been an outspoken critic of his election lies, leading to her ouster from House GOP leadership.

Milley asked Cheney how she was doing.

'That fucking guy Jim Jordan. That son of a b*tch,' Cheney said, according to the book.

Cheney bluntly relayed to Milley what she experienced on the House floor on January 6 while pro-Trump rioters overran police and breached the Capitol building, including a run-in with Jordan, a staunch Trump ally in the House who feverishly tried to overturn the election.

Cheney described to Milley her exchange with Jordan: 'While these maniacs are going through the place, I'm standing in the aisle and he said, "We need to get the ladies away from the aisle. Let me help you." I smacked his hand away and told him, "Get away from me. You f**king did this.""

An attempted coup is still a coup.

Also, fuck Gym Jordan. 

"You can't just make them disappear"

"'It's the anti-Jewish propaganda that is so wicked.'

'I don't give that any attention.'

'You won't forget that your daughter, Helena, is half Jewish, will you, Peter?'

'It's just their strategy.  Pauli knows these people, and he says that it's only for vote-catching.  Everyone knows that the anti-Jewish nonsense will all be dropped if they get any nearer to a majority in the Reichstag.  In the coming year they'll begin to eliminate it from the program.'

'What program?  They haven't got a program, except hating the Jews.'

'Nothing is going to happen to the Jews, Lottie.  Don't get upset on that account.  Look around you: the German economy would collapse without the Jews.'

'But do the Nazis know that?'

Peter looked at his wife with concern.  He hadn't realized how much the Nazi propaganda affected her.  It was, of course, the presence in Berlin of her parents.  Suddenly she was having to explain to them things she'd previously avoided thinking about.  'Well, anyway,' said Peter in an effort to relax her and end these childish fears.  'How can they get rid of the Jews?  They're Germans; they live here, don't they?  You can't just make them disappear.'"

-- Len Deighton, Winter

Through Yonder Window

Bellingham, Washington.

I call this one "Sunrise Over The Septic Tank."

Red Ones Go Faster

I bought a new car, a red Hyundai Kona baby SUV out of loyalty to South Korea I guess.

Haven't done a lot of driving with it yet, but it's very nice

Now it's time to start looking for some part-time work, which I'm actually looking forward to.

If we can make it through the rest of summer without another historic heat wave, I'll be happy.

English Toast

Well, England made it to the Euro final so color me impressed.

I see no way how they can beat Italy though.

Note: I am always wrong when I make sports predictions.

"palm trees standing like dying prisoners"

"I went up to my room, up the dusty stairs of Bunker Hill, past the soot-covered frame buildings along that dark street, sand and oil and grease choking the futile palm trees standing like dying prisoners, chained to a little plot of ground with black pavement hiding their feet.  Dust and old buildings and old people sitting at windows, old people tottering out of doors, old people moving painfully along the dark street.  The old folk from Indiana and Iowa and Illinois, from Boston and Kansas City and Des Moines, they sold their homes and their stores, and they came here by train and by automobile to the land of sunshine, to die in the sun, with just enough money to live until the sun killed them, tore themselves out by the roots in their last days, deserted the smug prosperity of Kansas City and Chicago and Peoria to find a place in the sun.  And when they got here they found that other and greater thieves had already taken possession, that even the sun belonged to the others; Smith and Jones and Parker, druggist, banker, baker, dust of Chicago and Cincinnati and Cleveland on their shoes, doomed to die in the sun, a few dollars in the bank, enough to subscribe to the Lost Angeles Times, enough to keep alive the illusion that this was paradise, that their little papier-mache homes were castles.  The uprooted ones, the empty sad folks, the old and the young folks, the folks from back home.  These were my countrymen, these were the new Californians.  With their bright polo shirts and sunglasses, they were in paradise, they belonged."

-- John Fante, Ask The Dust

"The sun was very pleasant to lie in"

"'You should bring your wife here,' she said.  'There are a lot of guys around.  Somebody would take her away from you and and when you got over it you'd be a lot happier.'

A croquet ball came rolling down the path from Teddy Blue's house.  It explained the sounds we had been hearing.  Sergei, wearing a pair of old shorts, came strolling after the ball carrying a mallet.  Another ball came down the path and a long-haired boy followed it.  Sergei ignored us and studied the position of this ball.  The long-haired boy studied the position of his ball.  Neither of them spoke.  Finally Sergei hit his ball down a little trail that led away from Leslie's house.

'There are ninety-nine wickets you have to got through,' Leslie said.  'They're all over the Lane.  The one thing you have to remember, if you start coming here, is never to move a croquet ball.  There're a couple of balls down the street that have been where they are for two years.  Everybody's afraid to move them.  The guys who started it may come back some time to finish their game.'

Pauline and Cleo came walking down the path, Pauline still in her nightgown.  They sat on the grass, and Cleo played in her mother's lap.  I lay back on the grass and considered taking a nap.  The sun was very pleasant to lie in.

'He has a bad wife,' Leslie said.  'She won't sleep with him.'

'She must be unhappy,' Pauline said."

-- Larry McMurtry, All My Friends Are Going To Be Strangers

"taste, intelligence and culture, (so-called,)"

"The People!  Like our huge earth itself, which, to ordinary scansion, is full of vulgar contradictions and offence, man, viewed in the lump, displeases, and is a constant puzzle and affront to the merely educated classes.  The rare, cosmical, artist-mind, lit with the Infinite, alone confronts his manifold and oceanic qualities -- but taste, intelligence and culture, (so-called,) have been against the masses, and remain so.  There is plenty of glamour about the most damnable crimes and hoggish meannesses, special and general, of the feudal and dynastic world over there, with its personnel of lords and queens and courts, so well-dress'd and so handsome.  But the People are ungrammatical, untidy, and their sins gaunt and ill-bred."

-- Walt Whitman, Democratic Vistas

"to warble spontaneous songs"

"Give me nights perfectly quiet as on high plateaus west of the Mississippi, and I looking up at the stars,

Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturb'd,

Give me for marriage a sweet-breath'd woman of whom I should never tire,

Give me a perfect child, give me away aside from the noise of the world a rural domestic life,

Give me to warble spontaneous songs recluse by myself, for my own ears only,

Give me solitude, give me Nature, give me again O Nature your primal sanities!"

-- Walt Whitman, "Give Me the Splendid Silent Sun"

Life As A List

One way to think about aging is that you've got this list of things you can do, that you're used to doing, and with the passing of every few months you check a few things off of the list -- too dangerous, too overwhelming, simply impossible.

Of course, older folks aren't stupid.  They realize when you've decided there are things they can't do by themselves any longer -- bathing, de-skinning chicken, pulling weeds around the yard, boiling some eggs.  It hurts to have further and more basic things constantly taken away.

My Dad had a really rough time at the grocery store yesterday.  I'm afraid "going shopping" might get crossed off the list soon.

Small Victories

This might sound crazy -- check that -- this very much sounds crazy, buy my Dad took his first actual shower in many years today.  After four days of brutal heat, I was able to talk him into a "cool" shower.

It went much better than I expected.  I helped him in and out, but he did pretty well on his own for the actual washing part.

He said it felt good.  I said he could do this whenever he wants to feel good and clean and refreshed.  He doesn't need to exist in "scarcity mode" if he doesn't want to.  (We run water off of a somewhat shallow well, but it's honestly not that expensive to have it re-filled when needed.)

It's also 10:45 in the morning and I'm exhausted.

Unruly Sun

As I said to my Dad over bowls of leftover Father's Day ice cream last night, "We made it."

For the past three days, record setting heat was recorded in Portland, Seattle, and Bellingham.

It was fucking brutal of course.  Sleeping in your own sweat is only on very specific occasions a nice thing, and even then you'll want AC.

This Fourth of July weekend my sister is visiting, and I'm planning on buying a car.

It should only hit 80 today, and it will be very dry the rest of the summer.  Unlike Seattle, we don't get much rain up here in the warmer months.

Hot Hot Heat

 

Bellingham, Washington.

Booze

Since I moved back to America in February I'd say my daily exercise level has improved just a bit over my routine in Korea.  About six months before I left Daegu my exercise bike gave up the ghost, so I started taking one hour to ninety minute walks daily around my town.  If I was in the office, I took to getting up every 30 to 45 minutes and doing 1,000 steps up and down the hallways and stairs.

It's easier here in the middle of nowhere, Whatcom County.  Every morning I've walked my Dad's private road two kilometers each way, then another kilometer around the house pulling up weeds or branches.

I don't see six-pack abs in my future, alas, but I feel like I'm getting at least 90 minutes of decent movement every day without fail.  (I missed one day back in February due to snow, but I shoveled enough of it to make up.)

And since I'm trying to be honest, I'm also drinking very little alcohol these days.  This is a huge change from Korea, when I would regularly stop in for two tallboys of Korean or Japanese beer on my way home from work, and more on the weekends.

My Dad still drinks very cheap red jug wine, but much less than he used to.  And this is more than understandable at 92, because one decent-sized glass will put him to bed pretty quickly.  I'm actually treating myself to a beer as I type this, but since I've come back from Asia (almost five months) I've gone through exactly 36 beers total (three cases), with 12 sitting in the pantry right now.  (My sister is visiting soon, but she'll at most have one when she gets here.)

I'm 46 of course.  I couldn't drink like my younger self even if I wanted to.  (I'll admit, there are times when I want to.)

All of this is to say, I'm feeling pretty good on the physical front.  I've lost a little bit of weight but was honestly hoping to have lost more given that I'm drinking (almost) nothing but well water, and a cup of instant coffee in the morning (Dad's preference).

Living out here isn't easy but at least my liver is thankful.

"wild with freedom"

"The second fight was good, too.  The crowd screamed and roared and swilled beer.  They had temporarily escaped the factories, the warehouses, the slaughterhouses, the car washes -- they'd be back in captivity the next day but now they were out -- they were wild with freedom.  They weren't thinking about the slavery of poverty.  Or the slavery of welfare and food stamps.  The rest of us would be all right until the poor learned how to make atom bombs in their basements."

-- Charles Bukowski, Women

Heat Wave

There's a heat warning in effect for Western Washington starting tomorrow, Friday, and lasting until Monday.

We should be fine, but I'll make sure the Old Man drinks enough water.

While L.A. folks might scoff at all this (only 95?) you have to remember that most homes in this area don't have central A.C.  Other than two weeks out of the year at most you generally don't need it.

Anyhow, it'll be hot but thankfully my Dad left up most of the trees around his house to provide shade.  You'd be surprised at how many of his neighbors did not.

"with a bad joke written over His head"

"That was not for her to know, either.  God worked discreetly, and in the ways that pleased Him.  It had pleased Him that the Children of Israel should sweat and strain under the Egyptian yoke for generations.  It had pleased Him to send Joseph into slavery, his fine coat of many colors ripped rudely from his back.  It had pleased Him to allow the visitation of a hundred plagues on hapless Job, and it had pleased Him to allow His only Son to be hung up on a tree with a bad joke written over His head.

God was a gamesman -- if He had been a mortal, He would have been at home hunkering over a checkerboard on the porch of Pop Mann's general store back in Hemingford Home.  He played red to black, white to black.  She thought that, for Him, the game was more than worth the candle, the game was the candle.  He would prevail in His own good time.  But not necessarily this year, or in the next thousand. . . and she would not overestimate the dark man's craft and cozening.  If he was neon gas, then she was the tiny dark dust particle a great raincloud forms about over the parched land.  Only another private soldier -- long past retirement age, it was true! -- in the service of the Lord."

-- Stephen King, The Stand

"piety, chastity, charity, your company"

 

Drive Like Jehu, "New Math"

Things continue apace here in lonely, quiet Bellingham.  I'm doing some research for a mobile phone plan (yes, I still piggyback off of my Dad's landline these days) and a car.  It's tough though -- while the Old Man won't admit that he needs full-time care, he does.  But he also wants me to get a job, which is totally fair, but that means I need a car (pretty easy) and to leave the house a lot (again, he thinks it's fine, but the moment he can't get FOX News to come up and have me fix it for him there'll be hell to pay).

This stuff is hard.  When he retired back in the early 90's he wanted to move as far away from D.C., and cities in general, as possible.  And for a long while, having him live in the middle of nowhere had its advantages.  But now, the isolation is a problem.

As they say, be careful what you wish for.

Turn, Turn, Turn

My dad moved here from the D.C. area in 1994, as part of the "first generation" out here on this private road.  What's interesting is that times change, and older folks have moved on in their different ways.  I guess that makes me and my sister "second generation" out here, but eventually I see myself moving back to the D.C. area.  It's a lovely place, but I know nobody in Whatcom County, or Seattle or Vancouver for that matter.  It's not mine.  D.C., even though it's been a while since I've lived there full time, still is.  And some bits around it too, including Baltimore.

This is a roundabout way of saying, I'm pretty sure I heard a hippie drum circle in full swing about two houses away last night.

Things have definitely changed.  (To balance it out, my Dad's immediate neighbor is an ex-Navy lifer.  And at this point in my life I probably have more in common with him than I do hairy pot-smokers.)

Hater

I really like Lorde, but I don't go to her music looking for "summertime banger."

That is my hate-y music comment for today.

Thank you for your time.

"not the White Citizens Councillor or the Ku Klux Klanner but the white moderate who is more devoted to order than to justice"

To ban discussions of uber-scary "Critical Race Theory" is to ban discussions of racism in America and, by necessity, the works of -- Frederick Douglass, Martin Luther King, James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, and Langston Hughes.

That's a very cursory start, of course.

And this is America, of course.

"an element of madness in this plan"

"Now the connection you have been waiting for is suddenly made.  You can now remember the route from here to the Lexington Market.  You can remember the names of streets from here to there.  You plan now is to get some crabcakes, and find some way to keep them fresh enough to survive the trip back to Iowa.  You will need ice and a plastic cooler.  And you will need luck in shipping the plastic cooler on two different flights.  There is an element of madness in this plan, but it also contains a certain boldness that you have not felt in many years.  You determine to do it."

-- James Alan McPherson, Crabcakes

Programming Notes

I've really appreciated the feedback and encouragement on what's shaping up to be -- gasp! -- my first novel, The Give and The Take.  I've been writing a lot, much more than I expected, since I got out here in February to take care of my Dad.  The subject matter is, of course, pretty damn obvious.  But I do feel as if the project has arrived at an important point -- a good point -- where it would be best to keep my first drafts more private, less public.  For a while though it really felt good to get something out there, even if this blog doesn't get a whole lot of readers (Quality over Quantity!).  It's funny living in the middle of nowhere -- on the one hand I'm surprised, daily, by something, something the Old Man says or does, or talking to a neighbor.  But it is lonely out here -- there's no other word for it -- and the gates of my memory are more greased-up than usual, and have been for months.  There's no telling what ghosts, friendly or otherwise, will walk out and start yapping at me at any given time.

I was keeping notebooks in South Korea but rarely taking the time to go back and give that material the editorial muscle it really needed to be shaped into something worth sharing.  A few good bits of it have made their way into The Give and The Take, and will continue to do so.  But while I'm going to keep that stuff "private" for now, I am going to start posting some of my short stories on this here blog.  At some point I'll even polish them up and send them out for potential publication, but I know from experience that that whole dance takes work, and you can't half-ass it the way you can popping up an eight page short story online.

For what it's worth, I wrote poetry for many years but basically stopped around the half-way mark of my time in Korea, around 2013 or so.  There were a number of reasons, but none more important than the fact that I haven't really read much poetry since then either, and don't miss it all that much.

So my longer work is going into the garage and I'm lowering the doors for now, but hopefully you'll be entertained by some of my recent efforts in writing stories.  And, for better or worse, they aren't all about my ten years living in South Korea!

"Chicago was still a thousand miles away"

"So I sat at the desk every night, learning less biology, dreaming the dream over and over, until one night I looked at my respectable -- nevertheless Woolworth -- slacks, and realized that the freight trains no longer slowed down at Rock Camp.  There was always the bus, but in all three times I collected enough pop bottles for a ticket to where the train slowed down, the pool balls would break in my ears, and quarters would slip away into slots of time and chance.

'You can't see the angles,' Chester said to me one day after he ran the table in less than a minute.

I was in the tenth grade and didn't give two shits for his advice.  All I knew was all my quarters were gone, there were no more pop bottles along the Pike, and Chicago was still a thousand miles away.  I just leaned on my stick: I was sheared and I knew it."

-- Breece D'J Pancake, "The Salvation of Me"

(Former) Watering Hole

 

The former Little Roadside Tavern, Nugent's Corner, Washington.

When my Old Man moved out here to build a house he came across this bar, which closed down a few years ago apparently.  Over my visits during the past 20 years I think I was actually in here two or three times total.  Our neighbor was a regular ("I just go to play pool," says the functioning alcoholic) and strangely enough it plays a small role in the book Lone Patriot by Jane Kramer, about the right-wing militia movement here in Whatcom County during the nineties.

My Dad likes his red wine, but he isn't very social.  He was probably in this place only a few more times than I ever was.

Still, it's kind of sad all the same.  I'll be curious to see if someone buys and reopens it.