I got my China (or is it UK) flu shot

Like you, I have been checking the availability of China flu shots. I have a list of governments, hospitals, pharmacies and sporting goods stores that claim access to the cure and browse their websites off and on during the day. 

430 am yesterday morning I checked the website of a pharmacy, in the outside chance that a vaccine would be available. To my surprise I found that 30 miles north of here there would be a vial of the magic juice waiting for me at 9:30 am. 

The process was simple. I gave one of the pharmacists my insurance card and took a seat.  My name was called and I was met with a nice smile by an attractive 40ish woman who was about to change my life. She introduced herself. I replied, "I have been waiting a year to meet you. I knew you were out there somewhere." She giggled. 

Now that she has altered my DNA and the microchip implanted, the government will be able to watch me even better. The tracking device installed in the Student Union of Southwest Baptist College in 1976, during the swine flu panic, has outlived its effectiveness. Oink. 

I hope the government does a better job of tracking me in the future than in the past. I made a lot of mistakes and had some crazy ventures that I would have expected a kind and loving government to prevent. Such as .... lottery tickets, hoarding incandescent light bulbs, changing planes in Atlanta, selling naked call options, getting mad at Rocko, my members only jacket, my teal phase, unfiltered Lucky Strikes, that Chevy Chevette, John Anderson for President, the death of Buster the hamster, and on and on. 

On the 57th anniversary of the birth of my brother.

I am doing some genealogy work. Ora Asa Butler, a minister in New York state, was my fifth great-grandfather and died in 1811. Like my youngest brother he died at a relatively early age. As I read his obituary I could not help but think of my brother. The author had a wonderful command of the English language that still holds beautiful meaning, 210 years after it was written. 

"...it pleased the Lord to call him, in the midst of his usefulness, to rest from his labors, to the great grief of the church, and of his numerous brethren and friends. 

...it has pleased a righteous God to call us to mourning. Our dear brother has been called from this militant state, to join, as we humbly trust, the saints in glory. 

He died of a painful disorder but his soul appeared full of glory. He left a striking proof of the power of Divine grace to comfort and support in a dying hour."  

Flowing through these four sentences is the idea that the pain and suffering of the righteous can bring glory to God. Not in a way that we understand, or like, or can ever figure out. Sometimes we get it, often we do not. But He can and does use it, of that we can be certain. He promises us a day when all of this will come crashing down and he will gather his followers and "wipe every tear from our eye". 

On my second reading of Les Miserables

 I first read this book about ten years ago. I so loved the play, which I had seen many times, that I knew I must read the book. Having done so, I got rid of it, thinking the length made it unlikely I would read it again. This is generally my practice. Books I like I will keep for several years, but if they are only decorations on a shelf and never opened again, they are sent to Goodwill. Really bad ones that I would not want to tote there end up in the trash. I only keep books that I re-read or refer to, or bear some sentimental attachment to the giver or previous owner. 

This year for some reason I felt  a desire to re-read Les Miserables. The main character, Jean Valjean, is one I certainly am drawn to, in a fashion. But the antagonist, Inspector Javert, also draws me deeper into the story. I relate to them both, could see myself enjoying dinner with both, and am attracted to the evolution of their souls as portrayed by Hugo. 

This passage struck me, from the Section Cosette,  Book V, Chapter 5: 

    "Jean Valjean had this trait, that he might be said to carry two knapsacks - in one he had the thoughts of a saint, in the other the impressive talents of a convict. He helped himself to one or the other as occasion required."

Coincidentally, until recently I had two knapsacks in my closet. I wonder which one I discarded.

How was I so gullible...

 

Moby Dick

 I finished reading this book yesterday. My version has 377 pages. The White Whale does not show up until page 357. Most of the book is spent on excruciating details of the types of whales, ships and whalers. Everything from which whale is best for what type of oil to which artist of whaling scenes best captures the moment. Everything you wanted to know and many things you did not. I wondered, "Why is this book considered a classic?". 

I see the value as a historical piece, detailing everything one would want to know about how to catch, skin, clean, make oil, and the like. You are schooled on the many professions that depended on the whaling business, how to outfit a ship, hire a crew, finance the voyage, etc. It increased my understanding of what that life was like at that time and at that place. 

Interesting, yes. Readable for those of an era gone by, absolutely. A great piece of literature, no. The folks at Penguin books place it #1 on their list of ten greatest American novels. Eggheads.  Stereotypically, they call it "a metaphor for America's post 9/11 foreign policy" Nope, not the version I read, not the country I live in.    

I would recommend it to anyone who 1) lives in Nantucket and wants to learn about the history of the area 2) aspires to go into the whaling business 3) is interviewing for a job at Penguin books.  

2020 Not much traveling going on

 There were plenty of day trips around the state, but for real travel I was limited to Missouri and Tennessee. The former to see my son and his family, the latter for a family reunion. 

Places where I spent the night: Victoria and Minneapolis, MN, Webster Groves, Kirkwood, and Brentwood, MO, Knoxville and Roan Mountain, TN.

Thoughts on 2020

The overwhelming majority of people will not write one word about this year. The memories will fade and we will all fall into a collective shared fable of what this life was like. Of the writings of my grandparents and great-grandparents, not one reference to the Spanish flu of 1918 has survived. I have no idea what that time was like for them. So this is for posterity, my thoughts on life during the China flu of 2020. 

As I write this it is about one year since the flu virus first arrived in the US. It is about one month since the vaccine was approved by the FDA. It is about ten months since the government started imposing restrictions on public gatherings, masks, etc. 

For the most part, things were not that bad for me. Actually they were quite good. I welcomed two new grandchildren into the world, saw the Cardinals and Twins in Spring training, boated a lot, read many good books, learned a lot about the geography of Africa, prayed much more than in the prior year, saved some money, drove from Victoria Minnesota to Roan Mountain Tennessee, and welcomed a future son-in-law into the family circle, witnessed the entry of my son into the Catholic Church. I went to the dentist twice, the dermatologist once, my eye doctor once and my family doctor once. I got good reports from all of them. For those of us who are retired, and who planned well for retirement, things were pretty darn good.  We finished an addition on to our house. I got all of our old VHS tapes digitized. My children did not lose their jobs and my youngest successfully got a better job and launched her career in physical therapy. I wrapped up most of my responsibilities as trustee and executor of my brother Kevin's estate and trust. 

I think that day to day our lives were not as bad as we pretend them to be. Apart from those who actually got the virus and suffered through all of that, all of my friends had a pretty good year. We had some inconveniences, but in the span of human history they were very very very minor. We did not get to see relatives and friends as often as we would like, but go back in time 150 years and you will find that your great-great grandparents spent much of their lives in relative isolation, working 12-14 hour days. I did not get to be at the hospital when my grandsons were born, which I would have so loved, but turn the clock back a few dozen decades and there would have been no hospital and men would have taken no break from work while the women anguished in childbirth. I had visits from friends cancelled but I had the ability in my home to see them live on a screen like a television. 

There will be lots of whining and second guessing about what the government did or did not do. A few thoughts on that. It is surprising that we have a vaccine as quick as we do. Some credit should go to the current president for clearing the path for companies and scientists to make this happen. He threw a lot of money at the problem. In time we will see that much of it was wasted, but a lot of it was not and that helped get the vaccine out quicker. 

It appears that the president, who is a very combative person, did not do enough to clear a path to distributing the vaccine once it arrived. He was not nice to people who disagreed with him. He left too much to individual states. The government had a full year to figure out how to get this distributed and has not done very well so far, or so it seems. There are stories as I write this about vaccines sitting in cold storage awaiting use. Perhaps that is true, perhaps not. 

The next president will do much better. He believes in the federal government and will take more of a hard line to make people take the vaccine. He will compromise, cajole, bend and twist arms and get this thing taken care of. He will push a federal plan and will stop the silliness of states like Minnesota that have advisory panels to advise the governor on why their favorite disadvantaged group needs the vaccine the most. He will do it in a way that causes us to think collectively, as fellow citizens, about how to solve the problem, and not as individuals entitled to some special treatment. We will like it. 

There were some minor personal impacts. We were made to wear masks in public. I did not like this but went along with it. (The President did not like masks and set the example that people should not wear them. Some people said the mask came to be seen as a political sign. If you wore one it meant that you did not like the president. This is myth, in my view. Most people simply believed the President's opinion was wrong and chose to play it safe and wear a mask. Most of his supporters ended up wearing masks and were somewhat irritated that he chose not to). I spent the night in only three states: Minnesota, Missouri and Tennessee. Normally I would travel to a dozen or so. I stocked up on a few things that I would normally not have around, bullets and whiskey. You never know how crazy things are going to get. 

We did not get to go to church as much as we would have liked. Initially here, services were limited to around 10-25 people. That did not last long as the Catholic Church made it clear that they would not abide by so severe a restriction on worship. Most protestant churches agreed with the Catholic Church on this. Distribution of the Eucharist was changed drastically, with the precious blood of Christ restricted to the priest and deacon only, in many churches. While receiving the body alone was wondrous, and no less miraculous, it still did not seem the same. Priests were behind plexiglass walls for distribution at some churches. It was pretty weird. There were lots of outdoor services, which I did not like and did not attend. 

At my gym I tried to find times to go when no one else would be there. But when they changed the rules to make people stay 12 feet apart and wear a mask while exercising, I gave up. No way you can run laps around a track or on a treadmill with a mask on. Can't get enough breath, just bad in every way. 

Professional and college sports were severely curtailed. No crowds in the stands, coaches wearing masks, etc. Made the whole spectacle much less interesting. I watched sports much less. Many events cancelled. 

It was a year of racial strife, a topic outside the scope of this blog. I have nothing more to add to what has already been said. I do not have any insight that would be of any help to the reader. My opinion on what transpired is evolving.    

As we enter the second year of this lockdown I will read a lot and work on some other hobbies. I have a couple of projects to consider. Perhaps 2021 will be better in some ways, but in may others ways will be hard to beat. Don't think I will be getting two new grandchildren this year but it's only January. If I can get all the current crew to Roan Mountain in September, that will be good indeed. 

The books I read in 2020

Perhaps I read more books in 2020 than any other year. All of those listed below are good, and worth reading again, except for those at the end, which were mainly a waste of time.  The best ones? Probably The Great Divorce, which I have probably read a dozen times.  One drop in a Sea of Blue gave me a new perspective on the life of soldiers in the Civil War and fighting both humans and the elements for four years. By What Authority is an excellent defense of the spiritual authority that God has bestowed upon the Catholic Church, and only the Catholic Church. It dives deep without losing the reader. The worst book I read was One Hundred Years of Solitude. It is a great example of how a poorly written book can achieve international acclaim when  tapped by the hip intelligentsia.  

Worth reading Again Essays of a Catholic - Hilaire Belloc The Spiritual Combat and A Treatise On Peace of Soul - Dom Lorenzo Scupoli The Imitation of Christ - Thomas a Kempis Say Nothing-A true story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland - Keefe The Catechism of the Catholic Church St. Ignatius of Antioch - The Epistles One Drop in a Sea of Blue, The Liberators of the Ninth Minnesota - Lundstrom By What Authority?: An Evangelical Discovers Catholic Tradition - Shea Earth Abides - Stewart The People v. Clarence Darrow: The Bribery Trial of America's Greatest Lawyer - Cowen Hartland to Capitol Hill - Gunderson Pouf - Hall Rome Sweet Home - Hahn, Hahn The Church History - Eusebius The Great Divorce - Lewis In Cold Blood - Capote Hank and Jim - Eyman Ignatius Catholic Study Bible - New Testament (and all footnotes) - RSVCE Five Presidents: My Extraordinary Journey - Clint Hill The Passage of Power - Robert Caro Master of the Senate - Robert Caro Means of Ascent - Robert Caro The Path to Power - Robert Caro Practice of the Presence of God - Brother Lawrence Civil War: Volume 3 - Foote Civil War - Volume 2 - Foote The worst of the bunch: The Desert Fathers - Sayings of the Early Christian Monks Enemy of all Mankind - Steven Johnson One Hundred Years of Solitude - Marquez On his own terms: the Life of Nelson Rockefeller - R.N. Smith

Running the bases

 When was the last time I ran the bases on a ball field?

 6am on the morning of December 22nd, 2020. It is the first full day of winter and it is dark. 

A nearby neighborhood has a ball field. Rarely is it used. 

But it was on this day, in freezing temps, while on a run, when no one was looking, this 64 year old man, did something that would have looked odd in daylight. I ran the bases. Twice. Not just this day, but the next as well. 

It brought back memories of a sandlot in Myrtle Grove, Florida where from age 7 to 11 I spent almost every Saturday, and many weekday afternoons. There were no schedules or teams or coaches. Just some boys with a bat, weathered from hitting rocks and oyster shells across the yard, and any kind of ball. Sometimes I would walk to the field alone, lay on the grass, stare up at the clouds, and wait for someone else to show up. Eventually David Cosson or Karl Hoewt, my best friends, would. We called it "the field" and ignored the claims of Tonya Jackson that her daddy owned it and that we needed her permission to play there (even if he was the richest man on the street and our landlord). Something about that place is stuck in my memory and it seems so much bigger, as if my whole world was somehow connected to that spot of sand and centipede grass, sand burs and horned toads. 

I have been back to the neighborhood several times growing up. I believe the field is gone now, replaced by houses. Funny though, I am not certain of this. Perhaps it is that the impression from my childhood is so strong that I cannot perceive anything else there, just the familiar worn out spots in the sod where the bases go, and sandy paths that link them in our version of a diamond. 

Every kid needs a field like that. I hope that there are some children near here who see this one as I did. Who will think on it fondly in 2070 or 2080, and maybe, when no one is looking, run the bases. 

What I wanted and What I got. Ribs and blizzards.

I wanted snow. I wanted a white Christmas. Looks like I'm going to get them both. But what if I had known that to get snow meant I would not see family today. That December 23rd would be one more day of China Flu isolation. Flights cancelled. Loved ones who were 500 miles away are still 500 miles away when they should now be in my living room. 

They'll get here eventually, but not today. Right now I should be watching Georgia Southern and Louisiana Tech in the New Orleans Bowl with my son, or walking out on a frozen lake with my granddaughters. 

Yesterday it was 45 F and I was smoking ribs in my backyard. Today it is around 20, the wind is howling, and the snow is traveling horizontally. 

Had I known the tradeoff, and been given a  choice, I would have passed. 

But, a word on the ribs. When smoking in winter managing the heat in the smoker can be a challenge. We have a tendency to get the box too hot or too cold, especially when a good stiff wind accompanies the cold temps. yesterday I had temps as low as 150 and as high as 325, but close to that magical 200 most of the time.  

The seasoning. Allegro Marinade. The greatest marinade in the world. Generally I don't use them. I like to smoke meat with only salt and pepper and put my full skills on display, not mask them with sauces and rubs. "Let the meat speak for itself" I like to say. But every once in a while you need to do something different, so this time the ribs were marinated for 24 hrs in Allegro. 

Had the weather cooperated, my son and I would be watching that game while snacking on some leftover ribs. Instead, I've got em all to myself. Here's to silver linings behind the clouds of this blizzard!

Thursday morning 5am

The wee hours of the morning I cannot set aside. Cannot stay in bed. My favorite time of day. It is a perfect time to be outside for a run and it is an excellent period to just watch the world wake up. 

Early reactions to the news overnight, a death in Europe, an earthquake in Asia, the late night appointment of a soon-to-be-forgotten official, early market trading, the weather, the west coast sports scores. The first commuters roll east to the city. The sounds of night birds ebb and day birds build as the first dim glow changes the horizon from dark black to deep grey. 

I think about the day ahead and the day past. Things set aside and left undone. Loved ones snuggled in bed. The lost contact of an old friend. The name of a new one. The illnesses of the aged. The victories of the young. The remnants of yesterday's mail are strewn across a kitchen counter. The coffee pot wakes and whispers. 

Watching, praying, running, listening. Capturing the last stillness as my little clutch of dirt and stone in Minnesota wakes up. 

Advent in time of Pandemic

 What does Advent mean to us during a time of pandemic? Or perhaps a better question is, What is different about our celebration this year? Advent hasn't changed, but we have, at least a little. One year ago we were in the midst of the angst and cynicism of a presidential impeachment. That had an impact on our celebration, though it should not have. One year from now there will be some new thing to distract and detach us from the glorious tradition. 

Perhaps we cannot help but look at this time differently or in some new way. Despite the added free time on our hands I believe the temptation will be to think of the season less. There was something about the busyness of Christmas seasons past that made us want  to make sure that we did not leave out the Christ story and message. I sense that focus is missing this year. 

This Advent should be like all others. A time to contemplate the anniversary of the coming of Christ. A season full of reminders. The refreshing of the Church calendar. Immaculate Conception. St. Nicholas Day. The journey to Bethlehem. The colors and candles of the four Sundays. Midnight Mass. All pointing to the most important thing that ever happened in human history, God incarnate. His coming to earth in human form. 

Christmas 2020. Gone are the parades, the hauling of kids to see Santa, the corporate parties, the Christmas pageants and concerts. No distractions, no excuses. Come Christmas!