Whoever, wherever you are, Merry Christmas

Guardian of the Christmas Tree ....

 

Comment by Kris Kringle

portrayed by Edmund Gwenn

in the 1947 motion picture

"Miracle on 34th Street"

 

"Oh, Christmas isn't just a day, it's a frame of mind ... and that's what's been changing. That's why I'm glad I'm here, maybe I can do something about it."

 

Peace and happiness to you

 

Believe it or not, I have put considerable time and thought into what I would post for Christmas. Now, here we are, it is Christmas and I still am walking in a never-ending circle, indecisive and undecided, having come to the proverbial "now or never" point. I am tempted to write the words, "Merry Christmas," and let it go at that, but I will add a few more -- largely because it is in my nature to write and to write ....

 

A few weeks ago, I made the following observation: "I like Thanksgiving, and have many good memories of it from years past and hope to create many more in the years ahead."

 

The only word which needs to be changed now, today, is replacing the word "Thanksgiving" with the word "Christmas." I could easily fill a book reciting happy memories from Christmas Eve and Christmas Day .... actually, two books -- one from childhood memories and another for the years since then. I suppose it is not beyond the realm of possibilities that I will write such a book or books in future times, but I will refrain from beginning such tales now for fear of boring readers into sleep. Instead, I will bore you with something else -- a bit of commentary about the evolution of language.

 

Many people are aware -- but many are not -- that all languages are evolving. British writer and bureaucrat Geoffrey Chaucer wrote the "Canterbury Tales" between 1387 and 1400 in Middle English -- the language of his times.

 

Here is the opening of the Prologue to the tales as it was written by Chaucer:

 

"Whan that Aprille with his shoures sote the droghte of Marche hath perced to the rote ...."

 

Here is the same opening after a translation to contemporary English:

 

"When April with its showers sweet has pierced the drought of March to the very root ...."

 

Most languages, if not all, have a similar history: There is Old Norse, Old French, Old Latin, Old Greek and on and on and on. The reason I mention this is because one of the songs here today, "Als I lay on Yoolis Night," dates back at least to the Fourteenth Century and is composed in Middle English with subtitles provided in both the "middle" and the "contemporary" languages. The singers are Donna Deam and Kristine Szulik.

 

Another of the musical compositions is, "Veni, Veni, Emmanuel," sung in Latin with both Latin and English subtitles. The singer is Hayley Westenra.

The final song is by Joan Baez. She is singing the, "Coventry Carol," a Christmas song which dates to Sixteenth Century England and tells the story from Biblical Matthew about the birth of Jesus. Again, we have a transitional language piece from medieval to modern.

 

So, for whatever it is worth, here are three Christmas songs you might never have heard before and a brief lesson in the evolution of languages .... Merry Christmas ....

 



Addendum to Otzi the Iceman

Otzi, portrayed in a painting as he lay dying atop a mountain

 

Otzi, the Iceman, up close & personal

 

The last object or person seen as eyes close forever on this Earth; the last word spoken or heard; the last beat of the heart; the final gasp or breath .... some of these things are recorded for official records and some noted for the memory of family and friends. Everyone will experience death at some point during their life. Some will have time to prepare for their death; some will never know that it happened: The proverbial here one second, gone the next.

 

I have a habit of trying to closely examine some photographs and paintings. There are times I see things which I cannot be certain were intentionally placed there or not by the creator of the photograph or of the painting. With life draining from his body in the painting of Otzi the Iceman, for instance, he seems to be gazing at something or someone. Who? What? His demise is coming high in the mountainous Alps in the midst of snow and ice. It is cold. His breath seems to be hovering visible just beyond his mouth. Does he realize it is there? Does he even know that he is dying? Did the artist present the conception of the last moments of Otzi in this manner intentionally or did it just happen?

 

All I know is that things such as these make me curious and they are questions to which I never will know the answers. On a cosmic scale these things would seem to have no relevance; on a personal scale, I like to think the answers would hold some of the explanation of the reason for us being here.

 

Some years ago, I wrote a short story about the Earth being a "test tube" in an ever-expanding laboratory called the universe. In the story, a somewhat crazed scientist "learned" a way to shatter the test tube. The story ended with him struggling to decide if he should or should not shatter it. I suppose somehow, somewhere, he still is thinking about it ....

 

 

Who knows where the time goes

No, this is not a painting of me .... although I have been seen like this a few times over the years.

 

Rather, this is an artist's impression of Otzi the Iceman just before he died. The uncredited painting appeared in yesterday's edition of the London Daily Mail along with a lengthy article.

 

But, this post is not about Otzi, whose well-preserved, mummified body was found in 1991 in the Ötztal Alps between Austria and Italy. It has been determined he lived between 3400 and 3100 BCE. Otzi interests me a great deal, both as an individual and as a representative of his era, which is the late Neolithic Period about the time the Bronze Age was beginning. We shall leave his story for another time, so to speak, possibly even for another lifetime.

 

No -- this post is about New Year's Resolutions .... sort of, anyway ....

 

Sort of New Year's Resolutions

 

I have decided it is time to get serious about lessening my possessions, and guns are about the easiest to unload. When my son was here at Thanksgiving, I gave him nine firearms to take home with him: Five rifles, two with scopes; a shotgun; a revolver; two semi-automatic pistols. Three or four or five more will be going home with him at Christmas. Redistribution of my "baggage" is Resolution No. 1.

 

When George H.W. Bush died (Bush the Elder, in my lexicon), television commentators noted that Bush once was asked how he could take both political wins and defeats so graciously. His reply was that each day is a new day and when he awakened in the morning, he made sure his attitude was set to reflect a happy, pleasant frame of mind. I think I will give that technique a try, although I am certain Ambrose "Bitter" Bierce will roll over in his grave. To begin each day thankful to be alive and to display it is Resolution No. 2.

 

My reading habit has been slipping away from me during recent months, but I think I have found a tale which will raise the level of my enthusiasm for books a significant notch. I just ordered a copy of, "Lost Secrets," by Bernard Grisoni. It is a new novel about Otzi, the so-called Iceman. He was murdered, it would seem, about 5,000 years ago. Grisoni's story weaves Tesimo's (Otzi's name way back when, according to the novel) life and travels with those of archaeologist Sophia Bruckner, who was among the first to examine the mummified body.

 

One reviewer described the novel in this manner: "'Lost Secrets,' is one of the rare books that appeals to both the left and right brain, and delivers two complementary stories to delight each. Right-brainers will enjoy the modern-day story where a heroine and a hero uncover important historical information while in the midst of a fast-paced adventure to thwart a villain. Left-brainers will enjoy the story that takes place 5,000 years earlier where a pair of men displaced from their home experience people, places and ideas of which neither ever dreamed."

 

This novel explores the intertwining destinies of Sophia and Tesimo, two seekers living thousands of years apart. To actually read this book rather than merely add it to my growing stack of "unreads" is Resolution No. 3. I just might even write a review of the book.

 

And .... I probably will add one or more resolutions to my list before 2018 disappears into history and 2019 emerges from wherever years await their moment in time ....

 

 

 

Long time ago, but part of living memory

An unknown visitor to the National World War II Memorial in Washington, D.C., walks near a quote made by then-President Franklin D. Roosevelt hours after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor and other United States military installations in the Hawaiian Islands on December 7, 1941. Additional attacks on American bases followed in the Phillipines, Malaysia, Wake Island, Guam, Thailand, Shanhai and Midway. Since that time, each year December 7 is designated as Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day. Today -- December 7, 2018 -- is the 77th anniversary of the attack. Included here are three videos, one a History Channel presentation featuring interviews with survivors of the Pearl Harbor assault which was broadcast for an earlier anniversary. I am including it now because the content is as relevant and as poignant today as it was when the conversations were conducted and recorded. The other two videos are self-explanatory.

For the record, 2008 sailors were killed and 710 others wounded; 218 soldiers and airmen were killed and 364 wounded; 109 marines were killed and 69 wounded; 68 civilians were killed and 35 wounded. In total, 2,335 American servicemen were killed and 1,143 were wounded. It would be fitting and appropriate for this "remembrance day" to exist as long as there is a United States of America .... I hope it will be ....

"Look a new day has begun"

Buddy commented to me the other day that it has been quite a while since I used a photograph of him to accompany a post. I responded with a question.

 

Me: "Are you keeping track or what?"

 

Buddy: "Of course. Anyone who lives with you has to look after his own interests. It is pretty obvious you are wrapped up in Fram this and Fram that. What do you expect?"

 

Me: "Hmmmm .... all right, Buddy. You win. Any particular photograph in mind?"

 

Buddy: "How about the one from last September with me on the picnic table?"

 

Me: "Fine. I will use that one. Any other comments or complaints?"

 

Buddy: "Plenty, but we will save them for another day."

 

Moving right along, here are three songs to say goodbye to November .... or, if you prefer, to say hello to December. I never have paid much attention to Joan Baez. I suppose her music was not "heavy duty" enough rock 'n' roll for me. Anita recommended one of Baez's songs a while ago. I said I would listen to it, and finally did, this week. I enjoyed it more than I can describe, so it -- "Diamonds and Rust" -- is included here. The words/the melody/the photographs of the song combined to leave me more-or-less speechless. This week I also listened to a medley of singers doing the finale piece, "Memory," to the Broadway show, "Cats," posing the question of who performed it best. Although I am a rather hard core fan of Sarah Brightman, who was the original Grizabella in the London production, I decided I liked the voice and the style of Betty Buckley best. She was the original Grizabella for the United States rendition. For the record, Elaine Paige is/was my second favorite. Last December, on Saturday the 30th, to be precise, I attended a performance of the Trans-Siberian Orchestra here in Saint Paul. As fate would have it, the group is back again this December with two shows, on the same weekend as last year, the date being Saturday the 29th, to be precise. I have a ticket for the evening presentation. Here is, "Cannon Rock," from that show, my favorite number, as performed just a few days ago in Colorado Springs, Colorado.