Tuesday, January 17, 2017

More of the Same.

Yesterday was the Martin Luther King holiday, so as is my wont on holidays, I had lunch at noon at the local gourmet pizza restaurant.  Any of my three estranged children are free to join me at these lunchtime fetes, but they had their wills severely overborne by their mother and her coterie of "professionals" as minors during the lengthy, costly divorce orchestrated by her, and I guess they're still mesmerized by her domineering influence as adults.


Western domestic law, it's a total failure and would be an absurd joke except that its ramifications are so serious, tearing families apart permanently, depleting every estate it gets its claws into and totally bankrupting everybody's emotions, especially the children's.  I got to thinking while I dined with the empty chair again that, although I have seen recent pictures and obtained a little information on the internet about the doings of my oldest and youngest sons, I haven't had a scrap of information about my middle child nor seen a picture of him in over a decade.

I don't know if I would recognize this son of mine, now a man if he's living, if I was looking straight at him while asking him for directions at a bus stop.  I always walk around the food establishment after I order and try to look closely at any man around thirty who is present, but you can't just stand near a table and peer intently at diners in a restaurant so who knows?

Now there's even a wife of one of them in the mix, she too is welcome to come join me for lunch any holiday or birthday there, and I hope the studies I've read about the extreme disaffection and lack of any emotional attachment these victimized children display as adults are all wrong.  I plan to be at the Lost Dog Cafe in Westover for lunch at noon on Presidents Day, kids.

Monday, January 16, 2017

Martin Luther King holiday

It's Martin Luther King Day.  He was born on yesterday's date in 1928.

I don't particularly like the memorial constructed in his honor in DC because its statue is too brooding and makes him looks vaguely Asiatic.  Maybe that's because it was carved by a Chinese artist, you know, made in China.

Dr. King was a great man, an American hero.  He uttered a statement that resonates today in light of the Trump scandal of how much The Donald's election to the presidency was propelled secretly or not so secretly by his comrades the Russians, which seems not to bother many of those who voted for him at all:  In the end, we will not remember the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."

He won the Nobel Peace prize in 1964 and was assassinated in 1968.  JJD&L, I'll be having lunch today at noon in the usual spot, please come join me, my treat.


Tuesday, January 10, 2017

To say goodbye.

I went to church last month to pray for an acquaintance I had the good fortune to meet more than once, the sister-in-law of a childhood best friend who took care of him for months while he recovered from a terrible accident, who was an inspiring person but was terribly ill.  She died peacefully with loved ones around while I was driving to church so I know she was with the Lord even as I prayed for her.

Another loss I encountered last year was a man I chatted up while I was out on a run in early September on Railroad Avenue in my hometown, an African American who had lived there always, in the bad times when there was segregation in the state I live in, and the good times when he could have sold his formerly depressed property for a lot because now it was fronting the W&OD Trail whereas formerly it was merely by the railroad tracks.  He was an interesting fellow, full of anecdotes about the olden times, whom I intended to chat up again on future encounters, and I was shocked to learn from another occupant of that block last month that he passed away in the fall.

We lost notable celebrities last year as well, from the sweet sounding Leon Russell to the caustic tongued Antonin Scalia.  David Bowie who sang sadly about the slow death of Major Tom, spinning out of control in his runaway spaceship whose last transmission was to tell his wife that he loved her.

George Michael who sang Father Figure, a song I'll always remember and that I loved because it came out around the time of the birth of my middle son and I always associate it with him.  Tell my son that I loved him.

Monday, January 9, 2017

I just like 'em

I take lots of pictures.

I carry my Sports Camera whenever I run.

Over the years I quite by accident occasionally get snapshots I like.

My car trips and running sometime take me past memorable sights.

Photos also can memorialize persons I know.

Or places.

Or effects.

Here are eight over the years that I like.

Sunday, January 8, 2017

It's a new year...

… so it's time to update my profile picture.  The last one was from the noon hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 2015.

The new one is from July 9th of last year, when I spent an enjoyable afternoon bicycling on the C&O Canal Towpath with a friend.

Here is another view of that day.

And one more.

Saturday, January 7, 2017

A couple of movies, and snow

The first snowfall of the season came today, with bitter cold accompanying it.  I went out for a run as the snow started, but only went a mile as my hands were freezing despite wearing gloves.

Yesterday I went to see a movie at the mall, following a lunch of pizza at noon at the Lost Dog Cafe.  I hadn't been to see a movie at a theatre in over a year.

A Monster Calls was the movie, dealing with a boy's struggles coping with his mother's death to illness, aided or perhaps goaded by the appearance of a spectre in the form of a massive walking tree.  A movie to bring a date to it was not, as it was oppressively overwrought.

But the trip to the cinema was salvaged by seeing a second movie on the same day, Hidden Figures, a film about the incipient American space program as it battled the Russians for celestial ascendency even as it massively handicapped itself by discriminating against brilliant talent readily at hand in the form of capable African-Americans who were denied the opportunity to prove their worth due to the prejudices, customs and laws of the times in the South.  The long-suffering underclass finally overcame the obstacles presented however, a triumph not of the American spirit but of the human spirit in the everlasting struggle against mendacity and evil.

Friday, January 6, 2017

Finally, a run

I ran my first "long" run of the year yesterday, 5 miles of hills in the subdivision behind the 'hood instead of on the Mall as originally planned when the person I was going to run with bailed.  I ran on New Year's day also, and two days ago as well, but those were only runs of a couple of miles.

I like running through new neighborhoods; I get to looking at the houses and speculating as to what it might be like to live there or how much it might cost or what the view might look like from the porch.  This particular house took the prize yesterday as the coziest brick house, always a favorite category of mine.

I got to thinking about things as I loped dreamily along thinking about the new year, did the math in my head and determined that it has been ten years since I last heard from any son of mine.  The last communication was a breezy letter from my youngest son asking me to provide for 100% payment of his college tuition and fees at VCU, which I did.

Hey, you're welcome, youngest son.  And happy birthday, middle son!