In no particular order, here's what's rattling around in my head these days:
No More Pope
I saw a terrible joke about "ex-eggs Benedict," but it turns out that the jokes are true: the Pope really IS resigning. Health, he says. Why wouldn't he? Popes, generally, are old, and this pope was, I read, the oldest one when starting (does one say "taking the office," as one might of a president?) in the last 300 years. The last papal resignation was over 700 years ago. This is one history-making pope. But hey, he's 85, and who am I to say he's not feeling up to it. It can't be relaxing, for God's sake. I mean, sorry Lord.
This reminds me that Lent is coming up. If you were raised Catholic, you may know all about Lent. You were supposed to give something up, something you LIKE, and don't want to do without for 40 days. I used to try sugar, or watching TV (I read instead, so it wasn't that bad except when I missed the Dukes of Hazard), and sometimes succeeded. Lately, although I gave up all trappings of Catholicism years ago (I did dress as Father Guido Sarducci one Halloween recently, and that was great but still), I sometimes try on a little Lent. I give something up. Why not? When one is an adult and lives in a land of plenty, it can't be a bad thing to mindfully give up some little pleasure for Lent. I'm thinking instead, this year, I'll take up something - I'll walk mornings. I'll get more exercise, maybe dance in the evenings. Lent can be fun, and then I can look forward to Palm Sunday, and Easter - always like those two holidays - and my personal annual Jesus Christ Superstar karaoke ritual.
Driving in San Francisco and The Art of the Bay Bridge
Here's a thing about America, for all you non-Americans, that you might not know about: every major city seems to have its own peculiar traffic issues: legendary snarls in historic centers, or crowded bridges, or as in LA, terrifying traffic at almost any time. They have their own obnoxious way of cutting you off or failing to turn left properly (for the record, folks, it's pull into the center, and wait there for a clear moment; don't wait behind the crosswalk, for then no one will ever get to turn left!). In San Francisco, it's pedestrians with a death wish, or at least seemingly absolutely NO discrimination when crossing streets. They will casually stroll across busy intersections - when they aren't jaywalking - hands in pockets, oblivious, against the red light with rushing oncoming traffic. They seem to take a special pride in NOT noticing the cars or indeed altering their life-threatening behavior in any way. They also do it wearing black in darkly-lit neighborhoods.
The consequence of having to deal with that and a dozen other traffic quirks and foibles of a big city makes driving elsewhere quite easy. I mean, I wouldn't drive in Manhattan or, you know, Mumbai, but LA is no trouble. I had to drive around the entire Southland a few weekends ago, from Riverside to Palmdale to Anaheim, and it was just no trouble at all. I hate to say, I feel kind of at home on a freeway. Once the music is going, and I'm clipping along pretty well, with the morning sun over the bay, sparkling or not on the water, as the fog density dictates, it's pretty good.
In fact, there's nothing like it. This can be a very picturesque city to drive around in - I do have to cross the Bay Bridge almost daily, and the vistas can be stunning. I drive home, sometimes, in brutal traffic (I mean, brutal literally - once I was caught in the line of crossfire when a couple cops arrested a guy right next to me; traffic was so bad, I couldn't move away from where the cop was pointing his gun opposite me), but I've always got a good view. When the 49'ers were recently in the Super Bowl (after SF won the World Series consecutively - I don't follow sports, but you can't NOT follow them; great cheers arise whenever a home team gets into a playoff or wins a championship), I drove across the Bay Bridge at night, coming home from Oakland Airport, and the lights of the great downtown buildings were all red and yellow in honor of the coming Big Game.
Now, there's an even MORE exciting development: "The Bay Lights," a 2-year art installation on the bridge, made up of 25,000 individually programed LED lights by artist Leo Villareal. It will run for two years, be seen by billions of people (they say) and create a dazzling show nightly over the waters of the bay. They naturally tried to make it invisible to the drivers, as it would be distracting, but as I was driving home today, I could see it. Especially in the rear view mirror, but all along in front of me as well. Subtle. Lovely. I'm for this: large public art that is mainly about seeing the beauty in the world as it already exists. I saw Christo and Jean-Claude's The Gates in Central Park in 2005, just about this time of year - it was stunning. I love land or building based works. I'd had loved to see the wrapped Pont Neuf or whatever. So it's thrilling to be part, really, of this artwork. I will get to see it, presumably, for the next two years.
Speaking of Sparkling Lights....Stars!
It's wintertime, which means that I can see stars from my backyard. Summer it's too foggy, and other seasons it's overcast in other ways, but wintertime is clear and the stars are just right there, almost every night. I have my handy dandy Star Walk app - my very favorite app of all time - to show me what's what up there. I learned to identify Auriga, the Charioteer (although I can't make out the supposed outline and impose it on the misshapen hexagon I see). I like to find Cassiopeia when it's visible over my rooftop. Orion is a no brainer, except I've always pictured him with a BOW and arrows, and it turns out, he's typically depicted with a shield and CLUB. So uncool, clubs, especially when compared with a bow, which is cool. Knowledge CAN be disappointing. Still, the stars are much cooler when you know about them - they are more familiar when I know their name. They are more connected to me, or I to them, when I can say their names.
I recently watched the most recent Chronicle of Narnia book, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. I was absolutely raised on that stuff (oh, how I longed for Aslan! In many ways, still do) and was thrilled to see them get the movies pretty right - amazingly right, in fact. I love to read - it's a passion of mine, classics especially but also fringe and spiritual non-fiction - but I have a poor imagination for details. I can think of stories, but I can't, say, picture rooms. I really have to concentrate to make up costumes, and I can never clearly picture faces of characters. So I'm grateful for these well-done movies. And in the Dawn Treader, at the end (spoiler alert, I guess), a woman appears and she's white and glowing, and it turns out she's the daughter of a retired star, Ramandu. When I was a child, I loved this idea, being a star's daughter - even better, a RETIRED star's daughter. When I look up from earth, I know that stars are not people (although they are, I believe, beings of a sort) but Narnia is so totally different that the stars there ARE people. That's why I like it.
That's about all in my brain right now. Now, there's nothing left.
No More Pope
I saw a terrible joke about "ex-eggs Benedict," but it turns out that the jokes are true: the Pope really IS resigning. Health, he says. Why wouldn't he? Popes, generally, are old, and this pope was, I read, the oldest one when starting (does one say "taking the office," as one might of a president?) in the last 300 years. The last papal resignation was over 700 years ago. This is one history-making pope. But hey, he's 85, and who am I to say he's not feeling up to it. It can't be relaxing, for God's sake. I mean, sorry Lord.
This reminds me that Lent is coming up. If you were raised Catholic, you may know all about Lent. You were supposed to give something up, something you LIKE, and don't want to do without for 40 days. I used to try sugar, or watching TV (I read instead, so it wasn't that bad except when I missed the Dukes of Hazard), and sometimes succeeded. Lately, although I gave up all trappings of Catholicism years ago (I did dress as Father Guido Sarducci one Halloween recently, and that was great but still), I sometimes try on a little Lent. I give something up. Why not? When one is an adult and lives in a land of plenty, it can't be a bad thing to mindfully give up some little pleasure for Lent. I'm thinking instead, this year, I'll take up something - I'll walk mornings. I'll get more exercise, maybe dance in the evenings. Lent can be fun, and then I can look forward to Palm Sunday, and Easter - always like those two holidays - and my personal annual Jesus Christ Superstar karaoke ritual.
Driving in San Francisco and The Art of the Bay Bridge
Here's a thing about America, for all you non-Americans, that you might not know about: every major city seems to have its own peculiar traffic issues: legendary snarls in historic centers, or crowded bridges, or as in LA, terrifying traffic at almost any time. They have their own obnoxious way of cutting you off or failing to turn left properly (for the record, folks, it's pull into the center, and wait there for a clear moment; don't wait behind the crosswalk, for then no one will ever get to turn left!). In San Francisco, it's pedestrians with a death wish, or at least seemingly absolutely NO discrimination when crossing streets. They will casually stroll across busy intersections - when they aren't jaywalking - hands in pockets, oblivious, against the red light with rushing oncoming traffic. They seem to take a special pride in NOT noticing the cars or indeed altering their life-threatening behavior in any way. They also do it wearing black in darkly-lit neighborhoods.
The consequence of having to deal with that and a dozen other traffic quirks and foibles of a big city makes driving elsewhere quite easy. I mean, I wouldn't drive in Manhattan or, you know, Mumbai, but LA is no trouble. I had to drive around the entire Southland a few weekends ago, from Riverside to Palmdale to Anaheim, and it was just no trouble at all. I hate to say, I feel kind of at home on a freeway. Once the music is going, and I'm clipping along pretty well, with the morning sun over the bay, sparkling or not on the water, as the fog density dictates, it's pretty good.
In fact, there's nothing like it. This can be a very picturesque city to drive around in - I do have to cross the Bay Bridge almost daily, and the vistas can be stunning. I drive home, sometimes, in brutal traffic (I mean, brutal literally - once I was caught in the line of crossfire when a couple cops arrested a guy right next to me; traffic was so bad, I couldn't move away from where the cop was pointing his gun opposite me), but I've always got a good view. When the 49'ers were recently in the Super Bowl (after SF won the World Series consecutively - I don't follow sports, but you can't NOT follow them; great cheers arise whenever a home team gets into a playoff or wins a championship), I drove across the Bay Bridge at night, coming home from Oakland Airport, and the lights of the great downtown buildings were all red and yellow in honor of the coming Big Game.
Now, there's an even MORE exciting development: "The Bay Lights," a 2-year art installation on the bridge, made up of 25,000 individually programed LED lights by artist Leo Villareal. It will run for two years, be seen by billions of people (they say) and create a dazzling show nightly over the waters of the bay. They naturally tried to make it invisible to the drivers, as it would be distracting, but as I was driving home today, I could see it. Especially in the rear view mirror, but all along in front of me as well. Subtle. Lovely. I'm for this: large public art that is mainly about seeing the beauty in the world as it already exists. I saw Christo and Jean-Claude's The Gates in Central Park in 2005, just about this time of year - it was stunning. I love land or building based works. I'd had loved to see the wrapped Pont Neuf or whatever. So it's thrilling to be part, really, of this artwork. I will get to see it, presumably, for the next two years.
Speaking of Sparkling Lights....Stars!
It's wintertime, which means that I can see stars from my backyard. Summer it's too foggy, and other seasons it's overcast in other ways, but wintertime is clear and the stars are just right there, almost every night. I have my handy dandy Star Walk app - my very favorite app of all time - to show me what's what up there. I learned to identify Auriga, the Charioteer (although I can't make out the supposed outline and impose it on the misshapen hexagon I see). I like to find Cassiopeia when it's visible over my rooftop. Orion is a no brainer, except I've always pictured him with a BOW and arrows, and it turns out, he's typically depicted with a shield and CLUB. So uncool, clubs, especially when compared with a bow, which is cool. Knowledge CAN be disappointing. Still, the stars are much cooler when you know about them - they are more familiar when I know their name. They are more connected to me, or I to them, when I can say their names.
I recently watched the most recent Chronicle of Narnia book, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. I was absolutely raised on that stuff (oh, how I longed for Aslan! In many ways, still do) and was thrilled to see them get the movies pretty right - amazingly right, in fact. I love to read - it's a passion of mine, classics especially but also fringe and spiritual non-fiction - but I have a poor imagination for details. I can think of stories, but I can't, say, picture rooms. I really have to concentrate to make up costumes, and I can never clearly picture faces of characters. So I'm grateful for these well-done movies. And in the Dawn Treader, at the end (spoiler alert, I guess), a woman appears and she's white and glowing, and it turns out she's the daughter of a retired star, Ramandu. When I was a child, I loved this idea, being a star's daughter - even better, a RETIRED star's daughter. When I look up from earth, I know that stars are not people (although they are, I believe, beings of a sort) but Narnia is so totally different that the stars there ARE people. That's why I like it.
That's about all in my brain right now. Now, there's nothing left.
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