by William Shakespeare
"One day too late, I fear me, noble lord,
"Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth:
"O, call back yesterday, bid time return ...."
Abbreviated thoughts ....
So-called journalism: The most difficult aspect about having once been a practicing newspaper journalist is seeing how corrupted the system has become today, especially television news and, even more so, the publicists and propagandists on the internet who fraudulently call themselves journalists while they misrepresent their opinions as actual facts.
Alone still and again: When I began this blog, I had been divorced about a year and one-half. I thought there was a fair possibility of connecting with someone on the sea of blogs and, possibly, relocating to wherever she was or we to wherever we might decide to go. I frequently wrote that I would never spend another winter alone. There have been opportunities, one of which "felt right" and resulted in not spending the winter of 2010 alone. Well, things did not work out and every winter since then has been spent alone.
The result of this isolation of sorts is that I have grown accustomed to being alone, and think I will keep it that way. I do miss not going to films or museums or concerts or out for dinner with a special someone, but, conversely, life is simpler and, in ways, more pleasant without having to involve anyone else in decision-making matters. Now is a time for endings and beginnings .... perhaps, now is time also to put an end to following the searchers, Perceval and Galahad .... to stop "questing for" my own rendition of a Holy Grail.
A place in the sun: I am not referring to Theodore Dreiser's novel, "An American Tragedy," or the film version of it, "A Place in the Sun," but, rather, I am still dwelling on a place to slip away to for a while. I recently tried compiling a list of places I would like to visit and then narrow it down to the one I would choose above all other places. Ridiculous as it might appear, I can think of nowhere which seems special to me -- nowhere particularly intriguing or mysterious or even sufficiently interesting to draw me to it.
Anyway, I have not given up on this idea and expect there will be a few "voyages of exploration" in the weeks ahead:
"The good times are coming
"When they come I'll be there
"With my both feet firmly planted way up there
"In mid air ...."
Just to tease: Hominins living 300,000 years ago at the site of Schöningen in Germany were more like modern humans than had been previously thought, according to recent findings. Homo heidelbergensis lived in social groups, conducted coordinated hunting parties, and communicated about the past, present and future. Excavations at Schöningen have recovered well-preserved Paleolithic wooden, bone and stone tools, including a unique hammering tool made from the humerus of a saber-toothed cat. The site also has yielded evidence of the hunting and butchering of large animals.
This blog: As I mentioned a post or two ago, I think I will be shutting my blog down temporarily. It does not serve me any purpose at the moment. I probably will resume it from time to time. We shall see ....
The music: John Barry went from playing rock 'n' roll to creating many of the most beautiful film scores ever composed. How I envy his talent -- powerful and prolific music, for sure.
The first piece is from a motion picture Western classic, the original version of "Monte Walsh." It is sung by Mama Cass Elliot, whose voice is melodious and resonant in the same breath. The second piece is from one of my favorite films, "Somewhere in Time," which came from one of my favorite novels, "Bid Time Return," by Richard Matheson, a writer as prolific and versatile as Barry was a composer. Matheson also has a few motion pictures to his literary credit. And, yes, I have posted both of these songs in the past.
As a footnote to the video accompanying the "Somewhere in Time" piece, unfortunately, I do not see "she" in the paintings of the video. But, there always is the possibility of a next time. A clever individual might find a way to slip from the pathway to oblivion and turn back and discover an entry, a doorway, to return for another search .... search ?? Search for what, for whom? A search for the perfect kiss, I suppose.
Remember ?? This is a long post, but remember: I need the space because all my stories have happy endings and, just in case, I want this post to have one.
Accidents are not exactly rare on interstate highways, and I missed one by a matter of feet a few days ago. I was at the end of a line of proverbial bumper-to-bumper traffic in the outside "fast lane" where we all were going exactly at eighty miles-per-hour. In the lane next to us, the traffic was moving at about seventy-five. A car driven by a young man with another in the passenger seat came up behind me clearly travelling somewhere between eighty-five and ninety. He began weaving from lane-to-lane passing. Abruptly, he side-swiped the car just ahead of me in the opposite lane. Just like Talladega, baby !!
The driver of the offending car lost control and suddenly it was moving sideways down the road just ahead of me, its rear end whacking guardrails. The driver overcompensated his steering and the car shot across into the other lane, nearly hitting the side-swiped car again, rear end leading the way, and off the road it went, about thirty yards down a forty-five degree embankment. Had it been bare ground that vehicle hit as it went off the road instead of sliding and gouging a path through snow about two feet deep, it would have flipped and flipped and flipped and smack.
Snow saved the day and, very possibly, the lives of a couple of idiots. What was truly amazing was how ten or twelve other drivers all kept their cool and avoided a major, high-speed pile-up. (Obviously, none was a politician, or surely we would have crashed and burned.)
The driver of the car that was struck maintained control. As I "flew" past, I saw it in my rear-view mirror pulling off to the side of the road, along with a few other vehicles from the inside lane carrying people prepared to assist. People do stop to help in places like Minnesota and the Dakotas, you know. And, I guess, when you think about it, this is a story with a happy ending.