March Rambling, about ME – oh, and other things

Chuck Miller: Every day you survive, every day you thrive, every day you achieve and succeed, is a big eff ewe to the haters.

I may have mentioned (once or twice?) that it was my birthday this month. Thank you for the 70-odd comments (some VERY odd) on Facebook, and a couple of tweets, not to mention comments at this blog. Dustbury cited my March 8, day after my birthday, post.

I won second prize in Pret-A-Vivre’s Oscar game. Thanks!

But the person who best got into the “celebrate Roger” spirit has to be Jaquandor. He answered my Ask Me Anything questions to him here and here, AND he ASKED me an Ask Me Anything question before I even requested it!

He also linked to a couple of my posts, AND he wrote a whole post for me. Yay! The first YouTube clip in his piece features Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, as Roger, and others, in a wonderful comedy segment from the movie Airplane!

Here’s some weird trivia.

The winner of the game show JEOPARDY! episode on Friday, November 6, 1998, was Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, in a celebrity tournament. The winner of the JEOPARDY! episode on Monday, November 9, 1998, the next one aired, was MOI. Kareem and I – likethis.
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Usually, I write about International Women’s Day on March 8. this year on that date, though, I wrote about, er, ME instead. So here’s Reader Wil’s contribution instead.

Shocking New Evidence Reveals Depths of ‘Treason’ and ‘Treachery’ of Watergate and Iran-Contra

Melanie’s grandfather; also her humanness, fighting inertia.

SamuraiFrog needs help, and is getting it. Huzzah!

Chuck Miller: The toughest part is letting go. Letting go of the anger and the hatred and the feelings of worthlessness and regret and fear and sadness. And: Don’t ever give up. Giving up means that the bullies and the haters have won. And every day you survive, every day you thrive, every day you achieve and succeed, is a big eff ewe to the haters. He wrote a couple of years ago about the Chestnut Prison, which informs his current philosophy.

I think that an uncomfortably large amount of comedy these days springs from the same mental space from which bullying comes.

Benjamin Zander’s TED talk: The transformative power of classical music.

Sharp Little Pencil: Lucky Girl Child.

An Olympian with a physical disability; no, not Oscar Pistorius, but Olivér Halassy.

Character actor Malachi Throne died this month; trust me – you HAVE seen him perform. Mark Evanier tells an interesting tale about his appearance on the Batman TV show.

Steve Bissette: “Your Tax Dollars At Work for Disney Dept: So, NY state tax breaks are going to help the next Marvel/Disney SPIDER-MAN movie get made—while Marvel/Disney merrily fleeces Steve Ditko yet again. A Modest Proposal at MYRANT from guest columnist Richard Gagnon.

Some religion, and any philosophy that claims certainty, creates a false sense of security that leaves people sucking their finger rather than going where the finger is pointing.

STRIPPED: The Final Kickstarter Push for a feature documentary on the world’s best cartoonists: Talking about the art form they love & where it goes as papers die.

If you speak two languages fluently, in which do you cuss? There’s a study about that.

The one thing we know for certain about coincidence is that they are anything but coincidental. But what does it mean? Don’t know, but read this story, and the second comment anyway.

Review of ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four’ from 1949.

EXTERIOR: Suburban Buffalo — KFC — Afternoon — Winter. My, some people are…

Pennsylvania stadium aims to please fans with urinal video games. “The game is aimed at increasing prostate health awareness.”

K-Chuck Radio: Enjoying Jose Feliciano!

SEX-AGE-narian

Frankly, I think retailers are crazy to maintain these “senior” discounts.

I find it mildly amusing that when someone gets to be 60, i.e. a sexagenarian, some young people seem to get all weirded out that people so OLD are still HAVING sex. Of course, the baby boomers never want to be getting older. “Sixty is the new forty,” and all that. Back in the 1970s, there was an episode of the Mary Tyler Moore Show called Mary and the Sexagenarian; I’m not remembering it specifically, but I’m sure there was a joke or two that today’s sixty-somethings would consider ageist.

I saw this story that sex only burns about 21 calories rather than, well, a whole lot more. On the other hand, it has other health benefits.

There are all these nifty benefits to getting older. The thresholds vary, but one can get lots of stuff at a savings, especially services, such as at restaurants and transportation. (But are they legal? Apparently, even though they are discriminatory against the younguns.)

Frankly, I think retailers are crazy to maintain these “senior” discounts. The boomer generation is HUGE in numbers in the United States and will likely live longer than their parents, to boot; this must be an economic drain on some businesses and will continue to be so for quite a while. (Dustbury wrote on this topic recently.)

I LOVE 60, as a number. It has prime factors of 2, 3, and 5, and is evenly divisible by 4, 6, 10, 12, 15, 20, and 30 as well. And time is based on 60 – seconds in a minute, minutes in an hour; gotta be SOMETHING to that.

This coming decade SHOULD be the one in which I leave my job. But I have an almost nine-year-old daughter; I may NEVER retire…
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Perennially hormonal

I is for I

There was a lilac bush right next to the house; it didn’t look very impressive, but it smelled wonderful. Still the single smell that reminds me most of growing up.

Lacking any INSPIRATION for a topic, I defaulted to writing about me this week. It is I, during my significant birthday week. But what to write about that I haven’t addressed before?

I spent the first 18 years of my life in the same house, at 5 Gaines Street in Binghamton, NY. Gaines was a very short street between Oak Street and Front Street, with only 16 possible addresses, and actually fewer buildings than that.

At the corner of Gaines and Front was O’Leary’s convenience store. I went there and bought packs of baseball cards, but I also had to buy my father’s Winston cigarettes, which irritated me greatly.

In the yard at 1 Gaines Street was a huge gnarled tree which terrified me. It looked just one of those angry apple trees from the movie The Wizard of Oz. At some point, the family that had moved in there decided to take it down. My father told the owner that the way they were cutting the tree, it was going to crash into their house. The guy told my father to shut up and mind his own business; the tree crashed into their house, doing considerable damage to the roof.

The folks at 11 Gaines had an extra-large lot with a huge garden and chickens. When a foul ball would fall into that yard, the fence was too high, yet too wobbly to climb, and we had to wait for someone to throw the ball back.

The family at 13 Gaines was named Greene. We often got their mail, and vice versa.

There was a factory across from our house, but I never knew what was made there. It changed hands several times.

We had our tiny lot at 5 Gaines, where I played kickball with my sisters. Our house was actually green, with asbestos on the exterior. There was a lilac bush right next to the house; it didn’t look very impressive, but it smelled wonderful. Still the single smell that reminds me most of growing up.

When I was born, we lived upstairs in the two-family dwelling, but by the following year, when my first sister was born, we had moved downstairs, and my paternal grandparents had moved upstairs.

Our half of the house was quite small. When my second sister was born, my room was carved out of what was essentially a large hallway. But it was OK. My father painted the solar system on my ceiling, with the proportions from an encyclopedia entry I found.

Dad was always painting on the walls; I don’t mean painting the walls. In the living room, on one wall, were snow-peaked mountains. On another was a scene in the tradition of a busy Western European marketplace; I assume he tried to recreate an existing painting, but don’t know which one.

I’d go up and visit my grandparents often. One time, when I was about three, I fell down the steps. To this day, I have a bump just below my lower lip where I cannot grow facial hair.

Our Christmas decorations were kept upstairs, “under the house,” which is to say in the room off the kitchen where the roof slanted so that an adult could not stand.

When I was born, our church, Trinity A.M. E. Zion was downtown. But when that street was turned into a city park, the church moved to within two blocks of our house, at Oak Street and Lydia Street. (Hmm – I wonder if the naming of my daughter was affected by the street on which I spent a LOT of time.)

Enough about me for this week.

The guy in the middle is my father; the woman on the right is his mom. Not sure who the others are, though I suspect the boy is a cousin of dad’s; he has the Walker “look.”

ABC Wednesday – Round 12

The difference between turning 50 and turning 60

When I turned 50, I could think, “Maybe I still have another half a lifetime left.” After all, the number of centenarians in the United States has been growing. Willard Scott, with whom I share a birthday, BTW, still announces the birthdays of those over 100 on NBC-TV’s TODAY show, as far as I know.

Now that I am 60, though, I have to acknowledge that I’m not going to live another 60 years, even if I move to Azerbaijan and start eating yogurt soup. (And if I’m wrong, which one of you is going to write to correct me?)

I note this, not with melancholy or dismay, but with a certain resolve not to waste my time with X or Y. I’ve already done a fair job in that I’ve largely stopped caring about the negative things people who aren’t friends and family say. It’s not that I won’t complain about them, and in fact, I’m even more likely to do so, probably in this blog; it’s that the anger and frustration don’t consume me, as they once did.

Once upon a time, every March 8 (the day after my birthday), I would play a particular Paul Simon tune. The lyric started:
Yesterday it was my birthday
I hung one more year on the line
I should be depressed
My life’s a mess
But I’m having a good time

I played that song annually for 20 years or more. I should get back to doing that again.

Have a Good Time – Paul Simon

ROG is 60

“Celebrating a birthday reminds us of the goodness of life, and in this spirit we really need to celebrate people’s birthdays every day, by showing gratitude, kindness, forgiveness, gentleness, and affection.”

I generally take my birthday off from work each year, and today is no exception. Likewise, the blog, especially THIS birthday. I was born in the Chinese Year of the Snake, and arithmetically, it is the Year of the Snake for the sixth time in my life; I’m going to slither off now.

I have, in the past, and will again this year, quote a section from one of my favorite books, Here and Now: Living in the Spirit by Henri J.M. Nouwen, a Canadian theologian who died in 1996.(Copyright 1994, published by The Crossroad Publishing Company.)

I share this passage about birthdays, not only for my sake but, I hope, for yours as well:

Birthdays need to be celebrated. I think it is more important to celebrate a birthday than a successful exam, a promotion, or a victory. Because to celebrate a birthday means to say to someone: “Thank you for being you.” Celebrating a birthday is exalting life and being glad for it. On a birthday we do not say: “Thanks for what you did, or said, or accomplished.” No, we say: “Thank you for being born and being among us.”

Celebrating a birthday reminds us of the goodness of life, and in this spirit we really need to celebrate people’s birthdays every day, by showing gratitude, kindness, forgiveness, gentleness, and affection. These are ways of saying: “It’s good that you are alive; it’s good that you are walking with me on this earth. Let’s be glad and rejoice. This is the day that God has made for us to be and to be together.”

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Oh, what the heck: Birthday – the Beatles.

Happy 8th anniversary, Rico and niece Rebecca!

Photo taken by Ray Henrikson on February 1, 2013, at First Presbyterian Church, Albany, NY, and used by permission.

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