Incidentally,
welcome to the final month of 2021
Pretty ordinary
looking handgun for a price tag of fourteen or fifteen or sixteen hundred dollars.
Right?
Is it worth that
kind of money?
Time will tell,
I suppose.
It is a Sig
Sauer 220R5 Legion-SAO semi-automatic pistol in 10 mm caliber. It arrived
Saturday to keep company with the Sig Sauer 716i semi-automatic rifle in .308
/ 7.62 mm caliber which made its appearance here a few weeks ago. One sig
deserves another, someone once told me, and I took it literally.
You might recall
that the rifle is the first AR type I have owned. The pistol is in sort of the
same category. Like many, I am an aficionado of the John Browning's Model 1911
in .45 caliber, but I have wanted a 10 mm for a few years and decided the time
of wanting and waiting must come to an end.
For most
practical purposes, this Sig is a 1911 in disguise since it very much looks
like and has the feel of and functions in a similar fashion to a 1911.
Returning to the
economics of this "masterpiece," there is an oft-repeated question about the worth of
a particular thing in terms of coin of the realm .... a particular vehicle; a
particular painting; a particular piece of property? My usual answer is to the
effect that the worth of something is whatever someone will pay for it.
More
specifically, most people, if they were to hold this particular handgun and
examine it closely, probably would fall into one of three camps: Those
unfamiliar with pistols and think $1500 was a typical price; those unfamiliar
with guns who would be flabbergasted at the amount of money; those familiar
with firearms who would "fondle" it while thoroughly inspecting it and after a
few minutes say it is worth every cent of $1500 -- especially when compared to
other guns on the market.
For those among
you who object to firearms, you can reasonably assume this will be my last
entry about one for a long/long/long while ....
As for the music
accompanying this post, there may not be something for everyone, which never is
the intent, rather, the idea is to make suggestions from "stuff" I enjoy and
which usually has a link, obvious or subtle, to the words and the
illustration ....
Be happy .... be obliged ....
This post began
with reading a Thanksgiving article in last Sunday's edition of the Saint Paul Pioneer Press
under the headline, "What first-graders are thankful for in 2021." Mostly, the
kids "seem to appreciate people who spend time with them."
Me, too ....
The most-used words from the kids were, in descending order: "family, mom, love, friends,
God, dad, school, play and food."
With a few modifications, those could be on my list, too. So, I asked myself, what am I thankful for in 2021?
My own "dumb
luck" probably envelopes my appreciation of my existence in the sense of thankfulness: For being
born into the family I was; in the country, region and town I was; at the time in a
historical context I was. On a scale of having had a "charmed life," I would
give mine a "B" or a seven.
On my blog, I
frequently refer to myself as Fram the Fortunate and use "Old Norse" references
such as "gold-luck" and "woman-luck" and "health-luck" and "weather-luck" to
describe the road I have walked. I have had two terrific wives and have three cool
kids. There is nothing more beautiful than a blue sky with billowy clouds and nothing
more wonderful than a nap in a meadow on a sunny, breezy afternoon.
Although I am a devotee of "Bitter (Ambrose) Bierce" and skeptical about many things, I am
essentially glad to be alive and to experience so much of life and living. What else is there to do with life other than to appreciate / to study / to learn from it?
Returning to art and artists, my thankfulness comes in the form of being able to enjoy the paintings of individuals like Monet and Vasnetsov and Caravaggio / sculpture by Michelangelo and Rodin / books from Homer and Hemingway and Durant / music by Bach and Mercury .... well, you get my drift .... be happy .... be thankful, baby ....
It's a good place to be from ....
Driver training
class seemed to be moving slower than slow one summer morning as we pulled into
the parking lot at the high school. A young man walked up to car and asked the
high school principal, who was giving the class, if he could get his
records so he could enroll in college. The principal went to retrieve the records
and I started talking to the young man. I knew he had just been discharged
from the 82nd Airborne, where his older brother remained on active duty.
"Did you like
the army?" I asked, a curious 14-year-old boy plotting my own future.
"It's a good
place to be from," replied the young man.
His answer
puzzled me then, but now I understand it. When someone asks me if I liked the
Marine Corps, I usually provide the same answer: "It's a good place to be from."
In terms of
myself, I never have been able to think a more concise and accurate response. I
also never have been able to adequately explain why I went into the USMC beyond
the stock cliché: "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
Part of my entry,
I am sure, came from reading about the Marine Corps and seeing films about it
and having known veterans from all branches of the armed forces and hearing
their remarks about their military lives. Beyond those things, I am hesitant to search deeper within myself.
Today is the 246th birthday of the United States Marine Corps and, in the spirit of the Corps, I wish happy birthday and salute all Marines -- those among the dead, those who still live, those yet to be born: Semper Fidelis, to the end of time ....
There
is a neatly handwritten, personal message in Swedish on the back of the 1911
post card sent
by "Nels" to "Mrs. S. Sjosttrom" in Marcus, Iowa. A photographic duplication of
the message is shown here, in hopes someone will take a run at translating it.
Walking along the street & reading the message
(Part 2 of two
segments)
The
post card is dated February 9, 1911, so the photograph could be no later than
then. Although some of the houses have changed in appearance over the decades,
many still exist and still are recognizable.
The
street lights are gone, however. They were replaced around 1950 by obnoxious apparitions
which are considerably higher with more powerful lights near the tops
overhanging the street. Safety and economy were judged more important than
beauty and gentility. They probably are, but some of us are occasional
risk-takers and will walk to the edge of the precipice to tempt fate and it is
not uncommon for a few people to sometimes place a greater value on the old
over the new.
Looking
at this photograph is like looking back in time -- glancing into the history of
the town I traveled from infancy to "almost" manhood. I visualize myself walking
on this sidewalk -- both in the context of observing myself and of seeing the
sights as though I am experiencing it at this very moment.
Then, I think of the generations who came before me and who walked there and drove
carriages and wagons there, some of them my ancestors and those of my own young
friends. Mind boggling ....
The
note on the post card is written in Swedish and was sent by Nels to Mrs. S. Sjosttrom in Marcus,
Iowa. This is what is says:
"Alskade
Mor, Jag härmed sänder mors två bj öoker. Jag har fått et par bref
från Ernest som säg in datt mor var icke frisk meu jag hojapas mor blix stnox
frisk igen. Jag hade tänks att kommma hem ingefär vid denna tiden men det slog
fel. Jag fick icke apotekare men skoll för såka få han imgam varen Här är
hoppen vch my kin annan sjvkdomy."
I am reasonably certain neither Nels nor Mrs. Sjostrom would mind me sharing it with you 110 years after it was written. In fact, you might wish to translate it. If you do, I hope you will share it with me so "we" can compare notes on our translations.
I am not certain my copying of the text is
completely accurate or how many dialects of Swedish might exist which could
affect local usage, but this is best I could do. I purposely am not including
my translation here so others will not be influenced by it.
There are times when,
it seems to me, it is a pity (possibly a tragedy) not all keep history alive in their minds and
understand the intrinsic value it has for us in our lives. Because we do not do
this, we are "condemned" to repeat our mistakes over and over as seemingly has
been our fate since forever -- or for a few hundred thousand years .... at least ....
But, perhaps, the challenge and the reason for life is to continue the struggle to transcend our fatal flaws .... whoops .... pardon me, while I catch a few minutes of football ....
There once was a
moment like no other. It took place when a photographer's finger released the
shutter of his camera and captured this near-wintery sight more than a hundred
years ago. In reality, every moment is like no other in that change never
ceases motion. This could be a street in any of thousands of small towns in the United
States or elsewhere, but it is where what once was my town.
Walking in the
footsteps of history ....
What you are
seeing is an old post card, wintery view of West Front Street in the
southwestern Minnesota town in which I spent the first 18 years of my life. I
walked this street many times as a boy and a teenager. There would be a .22
caliber Mossberg Model 142-A with a scope or a Winchester Model 77 rifle
occasionally over my shoulder or, in the autumn, a .16 gauge Stevens Model
77-AC shotgun, as I made my way from my home to where the town ended and the
countryside began.
Such was the
"relaxed attitude" toward 10-11-12-year-old boys with guns during my childhood
and years as a young man. Most men and boys who lived there hunted and everyone
knew both boys and girls took a "hunter safety course" with certified
instructors before legally being allowed to hunt.
Sometimes the
guns were cased; other times they were not. Never were they loaded. That part
of the ritual came after the last house on the edge of town had been passed and
could only be seen by looking back over the shoulder.
Guns and hunting
were part of our culture.
The photograph,
to me, appears to have been taken on an October or a November day, recalling the frosty
mornings with dustings of snow when I walked the same sidewalk on my way to the
lake to intercept ducks and geese on their southward pilgrimage.
When hunting,
the morning walk would be well before sunrise so I could be on the other side
of the lake perched on a small island where I could see the sun rising over
75-foot cliffs across a half-mile of open water. There were lights on in some
houses at times as early risers prepared for a day of work.
The walk in the
afternoon came with sunset only minutes away and meant running and racing in
hopes of catching a shot at a late flight of ducks coming in from feasting in
farm fields to "bed down" on the lake. Crops were not picked to the last kernel
of corn then as they are now, in this "modern era" of agriculture.
Thus, endeth the parable for the first day of November 2021 ....
(Part 2 of two segments will appear in a few days)
A Sig Sauer 716i
in .308 caliberLock and load .... ready on the firing line ....
I am on record
saying I would never own an AR-type rifle.
Among other
things, they have no class; no beauty; no sex appeal.
Behold, a Sig
Sauer 716i in .308 caliber crowned with an after-market, red dot, Vortex sight acquired
on my jaunt to Dakota. The third guy in the "band of loosely-connected characters"
who gathered for the "Great Dakota Shoot Out" had purchased four,
shiny-new AR rifles in about a three-week period. The most expensive in the
batch is a Fabrique Nationale (FN) SCAR which cost him $3,499.99 straight from the factory. Yep, really. The
others were in the $1,500 range.
He can afford
them. He inherited a vending machine business which his father had established
over the course of many/many years. The secret to wealth? Maybe, be a doctor;
maybe, be a lawyer; for sure, operate vending machine concessions in colleges,
hospitals, factories established and bought and paid for by a parent.
Yep, he can afford them, but he was a bit embarrassed by so many purchases in such a short period of time that he decided to cut this one loose for $1,100.
Anyway, my son (the instigator) and I (the guy with the checkbook) went halves on this hummer.
We both get to
shoot it; he gets hang on to it, but has to clean it and keep it spotless ....
Now, because I
said I never would have an AR-type I am left wondering if, since I only do own
half of one, am I a liar or a half-liar or a what ....
Neither here nor there material ....
For those
reading this who are unfamiliar with the .308 cartridge, it also is known as the 7.62
millimeter as fired in the M-14 rifle, which for a few years was the standard rifle of the United States military. It succumbed to the AR-15 / M-16 in .223 caliber,
which translates to 5.56 millimeter. One reason (probably the primary
reason) the M-14 was dumped was because American troops had trouble handling
the recoil of the .308, whose ballistics are similar to a .30-06. The .30-06
was the primary round used in our military rifles during World Wars I and II and in
Korea.
For the record (it
seems like I say that with a degree of frequency), I have no trouble handling
either the .308 or the .30-06 and suspect another of my reasons for disliking
the AR-types was because of the .223 caliber. I also suspect one of the reasons
I gave in on (partially) owning an AR is its present availability in several calibers,
including the .308 / 7.62.
What is the
purpose of the .308 / .30-06 / .223 data mentioned here? I have no idea what to say other than to blame my fingers for not wanting to stop typing.
I just came inside from looking at the "Hunter's Moon." It is spectacular .... it is beautiful .... enjoy it ....
By the way, one
of the videos here is a new, pre-release version of "7 And 7 Is" by Deep Purple ....
and, yes, it really is Deep Purple, at least current members of the band as they now exist .... ancient codgers that they are. The other video is Queen performing "I'm in Love with My Car," with song composer Roger Taylor doing the vocals. This song harkens back to my double Mustang GT 5.0 era .... oooouuuu, sweeeeeet ....
"Remembering the
past and imagining the future are hallmarks of mental time travel. We provide
evidence that such experiences are influenced by individual differences in
temporal and affective biases in cognitive style, particularly brooding rumination
(a negative past-oriented bias) and optimism (a positive future-oriented bias)."
No, I did not
write those words. They came from a 2018 psychological research report about a study
of individual differences in mental time travel and in regard to the past and
the future in daily life. I stumbled onto the report while trying to learn if there
is a clinical definition/explanation for someone's mind bouncing randomly all
over the map of their memories of their life experiences. I quickly read the report and then
stumbled right back out of it.
I never did
learn if there is a clinical definition/explanation for "it,"
so I turned instead to recollection of some of the concerts I have heard and a
few of the songs which especially appeal to me.
Bobby Dylan
wrote "All Along the Watchtower" and Jimi Hendrix made it famous. How many people
have recorded it is anyone's guess. I have listened to numerous renditions and the one
I believe, without question, is the best is the piece performed here by Howard Jarrett. He is a
guitarist and singer/songwriter working out of Cheshire in the United Kingdom.
Known
professionally as Howie G, this version was
recorded while he was a member of The Classic Rock Show. He can do magic with a
guitar, he is a gifted singer and -- best of all -- he enunciates the lyrics
clearly and distinctly and understandably, eliminating any necessity for interpretation
or for asking:
"What did he
just say?"
By the way, I continue
to be curious to learn "if there is a clinical definition/explanation for someone's mind
bouncing randomly all over the map of their memories of their life experiences."
Hmmmm ....
Each
of us brings two handguns so we all will fire 48 rounds from each of six guns at motion and stationary targets. My contribution to the
"Great Dakota Shoot Out" will be the two Glocks shown here. The smaller one is a
Model 30S in .45 caliber with a 3.875-inch barrel and an after-market tactical
light attached; the larger one is a Model 24 in .40 caliber with a 6.02-inch
barrel and an after-market tactical light, as well as a laser sight attached.
The "tiny" handgun is a Baby Browning in .25 caliber, which is not part of the
competition, unless in the unlikely event it is necessary to break a tie.
"I can't tell you but it lasts forever"
A few days ago,
I wrote these words in a comment: "I won a few editorial writing contests by
not being hesitant to dive headfirst into controversial topics and managed to
ignore threats and offers of money and sex regarding certain stances. I had a
guy "sucker punch" me on one occasion, and all he got in response as
he turned and literally ran away was a grinning smirk. Hmmmm .... how much
audacity is too much audacity ...."
My point being I
assume with a high degree of certainty the photograph and the post will
upset the sensibilities of a few folks. Anyone who stops by here with a degree
of regularity will already know that firearms have been a major part of my life since I was a
boy and if he, she or it cannot live with that fact, it is their problem, not
mine.
These guns are legally
owned and used for legal purposes, which includes target shooting and
self-protection. Once upon a time, I was an avid hunter, but have not hunted
for a number of years and actually no longer approve of it. Does this mean I am
anti-hunting? Sort of .... Does this mean I am an anti-hunter? No, it does not ....
My own experience gives me the ability to understand those who hunt and
why they hunt, and this is an instance where understanding breeds acceptance.
Do I believe the
world would be a better place without firearms? It probably would be, but, in a
general sense, guns often are the last resort for the small and the weak among us to
protect themselves from the bad and the brutal and the bully types.
Each of us lives
in our own world, our own space, and my position largely is treat others as you
wish to be treated. In other words, we all are different and, looking through
the lens of time, in all probability always will be .... so, our only alternative for
long-term survival is to learn to accept others of all colors, religions,
politics and personal interests .... and, to get along.
Thus, endeth the
sermon for the first day of October 2021 ....
Spelling
quiz ....
How
do you spell heroes?
United States military, as in closing down shop
in Afghanistan ....
How
do you spell dumb ass?
Joseph Robinette Biden Jr., as in closing down
shop in Afghanistan ....
The truth of Homer's "Iliad"
Since mentioning
it in a post long/long ago (September 11, which probably is long/long ago to
some people), I have been perusing Kurt Wilhelm Marek's book, "Gods, Graves and
Scholars," which is to say an archaeological "masterpiece" from C. W. Ceram. Marek
was a German journalist and writer and student of archaeology who used the pseudonym
Ceram when publishing most of his books.
(Does anyone
besides me think "perusing" is a weird word? I suppose it depends upon the context in which the word is used ....)
"Gods/Graves” covers
Greek, Egyptian, Mesopotamian archaeology and that in other regions, as well,
including the Americas. It also offers biographical material about several
notable figures in the field.
Using Homer's
books "The Odyssey" and "The Iliad" and the writings of other "ancients," a German
millionaire merchant, Heinrich Schliemann, excavated
Hisarlık, "Place of Fortresses," often spelled Hissarlik, in modern Turkey beginning in 1870. He believed it to be the Troy
of Priam and Paris and Helen and Hector and Achilles and Odysseus. He found nine
cities stacked one atop another and concluded the Trojan War Troy was either
the second or third level city. Level VIIa, first suggested by Minnesota
native, archaeologist Carl Blegen, is now considered the actual Troy of 1200
BCE.
As an aside, one
of Blegen's younger brothers, Theodore, was a noted historian/author/teacher.
His resume included being first managing editor of the Norwegian-American
Historical Association, in which "our friend," Ole Edvart Rølvaag, was a
central player as the first secretary and
archivist, and being knighted into the Royal Norwegian Order of St. Olav. Theodore's
papers are housed at the Minnesota Historical Society and the University of
Minnesota.
I am not sure at
what age history and archaeology became one of my interests, but a sixth grade
teacher turned them into near-obsessions through numerous field trips to Indian
and early white settlement sites. The past and the present here are laden with the names of famous and near-famous
individuals and events.
The intent of
this post is not to elaborate on Ceram/ Marek or Schliemann or Troy, but,
hopefully, to stir a bit of interest in archaeology and the study of "our" past,
and for me to be a link in the love of history chain for which my sixth grade
teacher was a remarkable envoy. There is a three-segment program produced by
the BBC on YouTube entitled "Heinrich Schliemann and the discovery of Troy,"
for anyone who is curious to learn more.
For the
literary-types among you, Ceram's "Gods, Graves and Scholars" is an exceptional
place to taste the hors d'oeuvres of history. The book was first published in German in
1949, with an English translation appearing in 1951. An expanded edition was
published in 1994, which is the copy I have and use. As must be expected,
discoveries and technologies have progressed since then and might affect
Ceram's work, which he readily warns about .... but, it still serves as an
valuable archaeological primer and resource. Here are some of Ceram's own
words:
While
cruising the unfathomable domain of "believe-it-or-not" -- commonly called the
internet -- on an otherwise lackluster day, I sort of stumbled onto "Our Banner
in the Sky," originally oil on paper by Frederick Edwin Church. Church painted
this dramatic and symbolic colorful sunset in 1861 to reflect "divine" support
for the Union during the American Civil War. Seems just as relevant today,
would you not agree? Our fundamental problem seems to stem from a lack of
consensus about good guys and bad guys and our inability to agree to disagree
in a cultured manner. Church, by the way, was a central figure in the Hudson
River School of American landscape painters and, for a time, the most renowned
American artist."Oh baby, I really gotta go now"
"Every time you
dig up something from the past, you give more meaning to the present."
That sentence
was spoken by Robert Taylor portraying archaeologist Mark Brandon in "Valley of
the Kings," a 1954 adventure film written and directed by Robert Pirosh from a
screenplay by Pirosh and Karl Tunberg, "suggested by historical data"
in the book, "Gods, Graves and Scholars," by C. W. Ceram.
I watched the
film a few days ago and, since my life is a series of "what ifs," pulled out my
copy of “Gods/Graves” to try for an "imaginary glimpse" of what life would have
been like for me had I followed my "once-upon-a-time" plan to degree in and to
pursue a career in archaeology.
Ceram was German
journalist and writer Kurt Wilhelm Marek, who published "Götter, Gräber und
Gelehrte" in 1949. In translation, it became "Gods, Graves and Scholars: The
Story of Archaeology," an account of the historical development of archaeology.
Marek chose to use a pseudonym to mask his earlier work as a propagandist for
the Third Reich. (Probably a good idea.)
The book covers
Greek, Egyptian, Mesopotamian archaeology and other regions, as well. It also provides short
biographies of several notable figures in the field, including Heinrich
Schliemann, a German businessman and archaeological pioneer, who excavated Hisarlik,
now presumed to be the site of Troy, along with Mycenae and Tiryns, and English
Egyptologist Howard Carter, who found the intact tomb of Tutankhamun in 1922 in
the Valley of the Kings.
Ceram later published more books, including
"Yestermorrow: Notes on Man's Progress." Never read it, so far, but the title
has hold of my curiosity ....
Yestermorrow .... what a great word, I think .... from Wiktionary:
"Noun
yestermorrow (plural yestermorrows) A day in the sequence of days from past to
future, emphasizing the connection between past and future events .... a time
outside of time .... a time that cannot be fit into the normal timeline, possibly
due to relativistic effects."
Author and
screenwriter Ray Bradbury, known primarily for science fiction and fantasy
novels and short-stories, such as "Fahrenheit 451" and "The Martian Chronicles,"
also had a book titled "Yestermorrow." His was a series of essays, poetry and
philosophical reflections, a few of which make stimulating reading, while
others are pretty much a drag.
Back on point
(whatever it might be .... your guess is as good as mine): I do keep up with what
is happening in the field of archaeology to a degree, and recently have been
feeling engulfed by the near-countless finds these days .... cemetery after cemetery
in Great Britain; 400,000-year-old bone tools in Italy; hundreds of Bronze Age
artifacts uncovered in France; thousands of previously unknown campsites and
towns pinpointed in Europe and Africa through study of satellite photographs.
Well, you get my
drift .....
My thought has
been that at some point any shovelful of earth will reveal some manner of
"archaeological treasures," most of them items not worthy of storage, much less
of display.
I still think
that, but I also think about the sentence: "Every time you
dig up something from the past, you give more meaning to the present."
Could be, but are there such things as too much knowledge about the past, too many often trivial artifacts from eras stretching back even into prehistory?
I liberated this
illustration from the depths of the infinite forbidden zone known as the notional environment of cyberspace. I
would give credit to its creator if I knew the identity, but, since I do not, I
simply will say, "thank you .... you do good work .... I like your work." It seems
to represent to me a creature whose name is Memory trying to find its way back
to its owner .... or whatever.
Memories light the corners of my mind
Rutger Hauer was a Dutch actor
and an environmentalist (although I think the role of environmentalist is the
more important of the two and should be noted first) who died in 2019 of
undisclosed causes at the age of 75. His most well-known role, many would
argue, was in the 1982 film, "Blade Runner," as the self-aware replicant Roy
Batty.
"Blade Runner" was an
adaptation of Philip K. Dick's 1968 science fiction novel, "Do Androids Dream of Electric
Sheep?" The film takes place in a dystopian future Los Angeles of 2019, in
which synthetic humans known as replicants are bio-engineered by a powerful corporation
to work at space colonies. When a fugitive group of advanced replicants led by
Batty escapes back to Earth, burnt-out police officer Rick Deckard agrees to
hunt them down.
Batty's body begins to fail as
the end of his lifespan nears -- planned obsolescence, you understand. As the film
draws toward its conclusion, he saves Deckard's life and, as he is dying, Batty
delivers a masterful monologue about his memories:
"I've seen things you people
wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched
C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be
lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die."
The monologue had been
composed by screenwriter David Peoples and altered by Hauer. An
earlier version read: "I've known adventures, seen places you people will never
see, I've been Offworld and back .... frontiers! I've stood on the back deck of a
blinker bound for the Plutition Camps with sweat in my eyes watching stars
fight on the shoulder of Orion .... I've felt wind in my hair, riding test boats
off the black galaxies and seen an attack fleet burn like a match and disappear.
I've seen it, felt it ...."
The original script, before
Hauer's rewrite, was: "I've seen things .... seen things you little people
wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion bright as
magnesium .... I rode on the back decks of a blinker and watched C-beams glitter
in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments .... they'll be gone."
Hauer said later that he "put
a knife" to the final lines to cut the "opera talk" and to show Batty
wanted to "make his mark on existence .... the replicant in the final
scene, by dying, shows Deckard what a real man is made of ...."
How many of us think similar
thoughts, I have no idea. In a self-centered way, I think about it frequently, of
how my memories -- the recollection of my experiences -- will be lost when I
die. At some point along the way, I began to understand it as one of the things
we all have in common. Our memories, I assume, disappear into oblivion when we depart our
lives on Earth. Our lives intermingle, but each and every one of us is an
entity onto itself .... onto ourself.
I guess in a sense of
finality, Hauer might be described as an editor with a sharp knife, an
environmentalist who put his money where his mouth was and an actor who could
bridge the distinction between a replicant and a very human being.
Watch the film and read the
novel, if you are so inclined and have not
already done so, and think about that final, brief soliloquy and your own
memories.
Perhaps, it is for the best
our memories fade into oblivion when our switch is flicked off .... but / but / but the simple thought of it is ever so annoying and frustrating ....
This is the once-upon-a-time
Metropolitan Stadium in Bloomington, Minnesota. The Mall of America now rests
atop the former location of the "Old Met." This is how it looked the evening of
August 21, 1965, during the only Minnesota appearance by The Beatles. The
stage, you might gather, is sort of in the middle of the frame on the left side
and the almost-visible, miniscule black dots on it (listed according to my preferences) are
none other than John Lennon, George Harrison, Ringo Starr and Paul McCartney.
The photograph came from the Minnesota Historical Society.
The night the "Fab Four" came to town
Had you driven by Metropolitan
Stadium in Bloomington, Minnesota, 56 years ago this evening, you might have
thought by the measure of the noise emanating from the "Old Met" that the
Minnesota Twins baseball team was massacring (metaphorically) the New York
Yankees.
In fact, the Twins' locker
room was occupied the evening of August 21, 1965, by four individuals more
familiar with "football" (soccer) and cricket than with baseball. Although The Beatles toured
the United States three times between 1964 and 1966, this was the only stop by
the "Fab Four" in Minnesota. An estimated 25,000 to 30,000 fans were at the
event, something less than the nearly 46,000 seating capacity by the time of
the concert.
Other than the performance
itself, the highlights of the appearance were a press conference by "the lads,"
the presentation to George Harrison of a new
Rickenbacker 360-12, an electric 12-string guitar in a Fireglo red sunburst
finish, and the apparent after-midnight presence of a young lady in Paul McCartney's
room at the Leamington Motor Inn. The other three Beatles reportedly had gone
to bed (and right to sleep) after the concert.
For those who keep score, the
guitar was used on "If I Needed Someone"
on 1965's Rubber Soul album.
I suppose it is noteworthy to
also mention that prior to the concert, all four took saunas for the first
time, according to the stadium clubhouse manager Ray Crump, and played roulette
with Brian Epstein for the proceeds of the souvenir programs. Tickets for the concert were priced at $2.50, $3.50, $4.50 and $5.50, and The Beatles were paid $50,000.
The setlist that
evening featured 11 songs: "She's A Woman" / "I Feel Fine" / "Dizzy Miss Lizzy" /
"Ticket To Ride" / "Everybody's Trying To Be My Baby" / "Can't Buy Me Love" /
"Baby's In Black" / "I Wanna Be Your Man" / "A Hard Day's Night" / "Help!" / "I'm Down" ....
"Come Together" was not among
the tunes performed that night, but it is here today in two renditions, one by
The Beatles, acting goofy and having fun, and the other a cover by
Sershen&Zaritskaya, who almost always are acting goofy and having fun.
In case you are curious, no, I
was not in attendance at the concert .... but, would love to have been had it
been possible .... "and it's too late, baby," as Carole King sang, to ever witness The Beatles perform any song live ....
"With so many light years to go"
What you are looking at might
be described as evolution in action. The pistol on the top is a modified model of 1911 which, as the number indicates, came
into use 110 years ago. Actually, the pistol
originated in the late 1890s, was revised here and there and improved, and formally
was adopted by the U.S. Army in March 1911. It reigned as our military
sidearm until October 1986.
Special operations groups
continued to use the 1911 until 2016, but dropped them then except for Marine Corps
Recon battalions which still have the 1911 stockpiled. Some die-hards
undoubtedly will carry them forever. A civilian variation became available no
later than 1913, and a number of police officers carry them when allowed.
The slide on this particular
pistol is a Colt with a Colt barrel and other internal parts. It dates to the
1960s and I obtained it in 2013. The frame is an Auto Ordnance. It came with
who knows what for internal parts. It also dates to the 1960s and I obtained it
in 2014. I swapped out the parts from the frame for some I prefer and think are
of better quality.
All-in-all, that makes it a
very modified 1911 ....
In an evolutionary sense, the
lower pistol is a Colt Officer's ACP. It was
introduced in 1985 and is a smaller variation of the full-size 1911. This
particular one is vintage 1987, which I obtained "unfired" for a "pretty penny"
in 2014. Other than the grips, it is a full-blood Colt through and through.
I designated the pistol with
the mountain lion grips a one-of-a-kind commemorative a year ago when one of
the big cats was captured on a trail camera about 40 yards from the Dakota
house. I later acquired the eagle grips on the officer's model to spiff it up a
bit. Although I shoot reasonably well with these grips, I do most of my firing
using Hogue rubber grips with palm swells.
Both handguns are in .45
caliber and each has had a few hundred rounds put through it during the past
few weeks. For some of us, there is nothing like trigger-time and burning ammo to
relax/unwind/feel alive/put life into perspective/regain self-confidence and,
most simply, to feel good about ourselves ....
Why this is, I have no idea. It simply is ....
"Lewis is still a good shot,
and it is still a pleasure to watch him. 'I think my release is passing over
into Zen,' he said once. 'Those gooks are right. You shouldn't fight it. Better
to cooperate with it. Then it'll take you there; take the arrow there.'"
Novelist, poet, teacher James
Dickey put those words into the mouth of Ed Gentry in "Deliverance," a story of
four middle-aged men on a three-day canoe trip down a soon-to-be-forever-lost
river. He was, of course, talking about archery.
Being an avid "old-school" archer,
I can appreciate the notion of perceptually traveling with an arrow to a
target. I also can identify with the concept in the sense of traveling as a
bullet from a firearm to a target. With a bit of "perceptual tinkering," I even can place
myself on the tip of the projectile.
With apologies to the Beach Boys: Fun fun fun unless big daddy takes the pistols away ....
A view from the morning ....
"Outside the dawn is breaking"
If for whatever reason you do
not live in a locale such as the one pictured in the July 4 post, the next best
and somewhat logical thing to do is to set yourself up in a situation where you
delude yourself into believing you are in the midst of Nature.
I am operating under the
assumption that while you might not be as much of an "outdoors freak" as I am,
you do feel some need to have blue sky and billowy clouds above your head
and to occasionally sleep in the open beneath the stars and .... well, you get my
drift and, as a judge sometimes tells an attorney in film court dramas, "You've
made your point, counselor."
From time to time I mention I
sleep on the floor. Currently, that is my habit, I mean. I have been known to
sleep in a pool of water or on a pile of gravel, which make for interesting
stories. In any case, what you see in the photograph is what I frequently see
when I first open my eyes in the morning -- the view out my window as seen from
lying on the floor.
Seasons change, of course, and
the sun is not always shining, but the view mostly is of Nature just outside
my window. The sight is refreshing and calming for me, and to awaken to see snow falling
or the moon passing by is especially enjoyable while experiencing the comforts
of being indoors no matter what the outside weather.
At the present time, I do have
a mattress beneath me, although there are other times when I prefer the hard floor. I
like to think the mattress-on-the-floor technique is because I still am a
college boy at heart. One of my daughters thinks it is because I am sort of
"goofy" and the other daughter approves because she thinks it is healthy. "You
literally are getting up in the morning instead of simply getting out of bed,"
she says, "which is healthy for you."
There are times I "delude"
myself into thinking my sleeping habit probably is a combination of all three explanations
....
"Second to
the right, and straight on till morning" is how Peter Pan describes the
location of Neverland to Wendy. To that, I might add: Sleep a spell, then on
and on through the day and all through the night and Neverland will be reached
"at the time of sunrise."
Those directions
are adequate for me to tell you how to find this place, as well, allowing you
brief intervals to stop for food and gasoline. Drive a like-distance westward
from there and you will be able to watch sunrises and sunsets over what once
was known as the Sea of Magellan.
To turn right is
to proceed north where Canada awaits. Left is south with Mexico in the
near-distance and the meeting of two oceans at Cape Horn far, far away. To make
a U-turn is to backtrack to your point of origin.
Decisions/decisions/decisions
.... decisions will have to wait because today is Independence Day 2021 and a
time for thought and reflection ....
In Congress, July 4, 1776
"The unanimous
Declaration of the thirteen united States of America, When in the Course of
human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political
bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of
the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of
Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires
that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
"We hold these truths to
be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their
Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and
the pursuit of Happiness."
