Dave's Journal, Apr2018
Home from Virginia
Had a nice week in VA with Loretta, etc etc. Drove home 553miles in 9 hours (do the math - that's fast!).
Early morning on the porch ....
The kids (minus the ever-elusive Jake).....
Went to the Holocaust museum and (a short visit to) the National Art Gallery. The Holocaust Museum was not as horrific as I expected - most displays explained the rise of Nazism from 1933-1939. It was pretty awful, but viewable. Made me very glad that we (more or less) accept all races and cultures in the US today.
The artworks in the National Gallery need a lot of upkeep work. Most every (80% ?) painting needs restoration. They are dreary, as the centuries have darkened the varnish coatings. I photo'd some clean ones.
Folks crowding around the one daVinci painting (I wasn't impressed).
Must squeeze in a selfie....
Deb, shooting the capitol building (in the drizzle).
Next day, went to Mt Vernon (George Washington's plantation). This was very interesting (and very crowded). George was an extremely decent and humble person, and he cared enormously about the well-being of this country, and put that above all his personal desires. I was quite impressed to read the short version of his military & political life.
Honestly .... they don't make 'em like that any more.
His false teeth (boy can I relate to this) ........
George attached his favorite little chair to this "chariot" and would go prancing around the plantation and into town.
I never get in the groupies....
Back at the house, Loretta croche'd some beautiful booties, and Ryan played with Junior, the cat.
I came home with a major computer crisis. Threw the problem at Mike and he is working me through a solution. At the moment, I'm on a borrowed laptop. Happily, I was able to safely to transfer my 76Gb ! of data to an external drive.
It's been days now .... still fidgeting with my "new" computer. Much faster, slightly larger. What to do with 76Gb of files that I have stored externally? Ordered a battery and cover decal. Software is pretty much set up now. Getting back into my favorite internet places (they missed me, I'm sure of this).
Today's laugh from Ebay: talk about a price drop =>
Loretta asked for my help and I picked out a (used) Nikon body for Rachel's birthday. Looking to adapt some classic older lenses to it (Konica, Minolta, etc). I don't like the adapters that I am finding so far (even at $40). They use cheap glass (I have one) and flare like crazy if you point them toward the light.
RANT
American news outlets have all degenerated, de-evolved into tabloids, lower than the scribbles in train station toilets. They're all tabloids - supermarket checkout mag rack quality ("rag rack" ? ).
Not-A-Rant
Took my anxieties down to the botanic garden, while Deb was at a baby shower. This winter, they moved my favorite Greek goddess (who is She anyway?) from her usual spot. Happily I found her before taking it out on the nice lady at the desk.
Here She is in B&W.
Sunday morning, what's the plan? Ink in my state tax forms (they are done in pencil), ponder what lens to get for Rachel (camera needs a modern auto-focus lens), get chicken etc for stir-fry tonight, watch the "Shape of Water" DVD, make a King Kong GIF (pick a scene, Dave), hang up the new birdhouse??
Drop in on Mike?
Write a page of flash fiction, "What if . . . . " ?
Most importantly: pick areas of Dublin, Edinburgh and London for the AAA lady to find us lodgings for our trip. This task is a must do today.
King Kong (1933) shows the silent movie era style of acting -
lots of dramatic expression. .... and ....
silent era body language.
(Before I'm through, I'll probably have all of this movie converted to a GIF !!)
Abbie and Deb ...
Hey..... there's hope for me, afterall .....
(Reuters Health) - Well into our 70s, we continue to develop new cells in an area of the brain responsible for new memories and exploration of new environments, scientists report.
"These new brain cells sustain our abilities to make new memories, learn, and cope with the environment, and they are important for emotional responses," Dr. Maura Boldrini from Columbia University in New York City told Reuters Health by email.
"These neurons might be important in humans for our abilities to transmit complex information to future generations and to sustain our emotionally guided behavior, as well as for integrating complex memories and information."
Even the oldest brains produced new brain cells.
Whew !
We met Deb's cousins, F & R, for lunch (we do this every few months - Joe's Pizza, or maybe it's Tony's Pizza ?). To say that they are at the furthest end of the political spectrum from where I am, would not be an exageration. Well . . . actually it would be an exageration - on the political spectrum, I am moderately left of center (let's say I'm in the infrared zone) and they are way out there in the gamma rays.
We always (as today) start out with "No politics" and we do fine, until we've almost finished eating. Then the demons emerge. And they emerge in packs. Viscious, hungry packs of horned, flaming, winged and clawed political demons.
Such is life in these politically chaotic times.
But, I can tell you .... the chicken stir fry lunch was excellent.
Out in the parking lot, we promised to be at their Memorial Day bar-b-q (where I will be hopelessly outnumbered by even more gamma ray people).
Nice day along the Boston harbor. Mild, not crowded, attractions coming to life for the tourist season. We just walked around.
Classic '50s Sci-Fi Movie (just watched it again)
Is Boston a Smart Place?
I like to think that Massachusetts has a very intelligent population, and that the Boston / Cambridge area is a large bunch smarter than the rest of us.
But ..... maybe I'm wrong. Maybe we're just like any other place, just as absurd, just as stupid as those other absurd, stupid places that you read in the news.
"Why (you may ask) is Dave wondering about this, on a cold snowy April morning?"
Here's why (from yesterday's Boston Globe):
A rail safety system gone badly off track
Dean Walker's [drivers] license has been suspended 39 times for everything from driving to endanger to refusing a breathalyzer test. He's been caught speeding 16 times and convicted of drunken driving twice.
But .... Dean Walker is a train engineer for the MBTA ! Yes..... he pilots a commuter train in Boston.
The Globe goes on .....
And he has plenty of company among his peers. About 110 commuter rail engineers, more than half of them, have driving records that experts described as poor considering the sensitive line of work they're in - at least three infractions such as speeding, causing accidents, and failing to stop.
Nearly 50 engineers have had their driver's licenses suspended - 44 of them more than once, according to Registry of Motor Vehicle records reviewed by the Globe.
The engineers' supervisors don't set much of an example, either. Manager of engineer training Shawn Monahan, who teaches aspiring engineers what they need to know before they can operate a train, has received 11 speeding tickets and caused two accidents.
. . . head engineer, Mark Neverett, has 13 speeding tickets, eight accidents, and an operating under the influence
I usually like to end my little stories here with a snappy punch line, but to be honest I can only stare at this Globe report, jaw-dropped, coffee spilling over my lip, eyes wide and glassy.
So, are we just as stupid as the rest of the world?
What a disappointment.
I'm Always on the Dead Guy's Side
There must be some deep reason for this.
Just about every week in the US, there's either a cop who shoots an unarmed guy (apparently) for J-walking, or a guy who shoots a cop for (apparently) eating lunch in his car.
I find that (before knowing the facts) I always judge the shooter to be the bad guy, and the dead guy to be the good guy.
Several weeks (often months . . . . sometimes years) later, the official results of the "investigation" get published. At that point I have actually forgotten the original incident and simply judge the investigation to be a sham and the results to be a coverup. I do this because no one ever tells "the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth"; everyone spins the story to their benefit, and people will believe whichever side they want to believe.
The only thing I am always sure of is that the dead guy didn't deserve to die, and we'll never know what actually happened.
It is incredible that after all the many centuries of doing this, they are still fidgeting with the colors of lipstick !
Millet's painting: The Gleaners
I never quite got the point of this painting. These ladies are picking up stuff in a field. Okay, they're farmers, I thought. Well, no they're not.
Stumbling around the internet today (after a few hours of Spring cleaning my own back yard), I learned something. The ladies are picking up corn scraps in a field that's already been harvested and carted away to sell in the marketplace (you can see the loaded wagon leaving in the background). They are not farmers - they are poor people, and they are collecting food scraps for their families.
They were part of the very poorest rural class in France way back then (1857).
The painting was met with criticism from the middle and upper classes in France. They felt that only well-to-do people deserved to have their pictures painted. Millet took quite a bash from those folks. (You'd think that after ....what? ..... 6 revolutions in the previous 100 years, the French snobs would have woke up to poor people living in their country - but some people are just dense, I guess.) But then the painting was selected for exhibit in the very prestigious Paris "Salon"; that event basically changed the French art scene - it now became acceptably artistic to paint common people and their lives.
So, now I feel a little bit sad when I see the painting; people eating other people's food scraps. I mean, I know it's a reality, but to see a picture of it going on .....
Aside: I looked up "gleaners", and turns out that we have a group of volunteers here in Massachusetts who glean fresh vegetable scraps from harvested fields through Summer and early Autumn, and deliver them to food kitchens to feed poor people (yes! we even have poor people in Mass !!).
Volunteer Boston Area Gleaners
Diggin' Up Bones
Back in my Wentworth days.....
I had my engineering students make popstick bridges. I think I allowed them 10 popsticks, must be only glued together. We crushed them in a 50ton hydraulic press designed to test steel parts. I vaguely remember that a few of them held over 1000lbs.
Just found these pictures in a dusty box in the basement.
The most profound line in any movie, ever ?
Probably not . . . but . . . maybe.
Back in '68, when I left at the end of this movie, I was confused.
It was physically boring to watch.
But .... I remember walking to the car and wondering if I had (or hadn't) just seen the greatest movie in my life.
I watched it last night (probably the 5th time I have watched it over the years). Did some internet scouring to read opinions. Today I bought the book (written by Arthur C. Clarke, who co-authored the movie).
The essential message here (as I see it at the moment) is that there was, there is and there will be a higher intervention in the (I can't think of a better word) evolution of the human species. That evolution occurs in discrete steps, brought on by . . . . ?
A black obelisk?
Why not?
What does God look like? Maybe a Black Obelisk?
What does a room in heaven look like?
The Boston Art Museum does a thing every Spring where local area florists make bouquets of flowers and they put them under certain pictures and some nice ladies explain stuff about the flowers and the pictures. We didn't follow the nice ladies around, but we enjoyed puttering about on our own.
Then we went off to the Cheescake Factory for a sugar and alcohol binge.
It's tough. Not making political remarks here in my journal pages. The current atmosphere in this country is so contentious, it's hard not to take opportunities to express my opinions on this or that topic.
But ..... every opinion that needs to be expressed continues to be expressed in bars, at dinners, parties, in supermarket lines, on hats and T-shirts, on bumpers, on the internet, on TV . . . . and we all know that people see and hear only what they believed in the first place. So, adding another voice to the conflict, to the outrage has become pointless. My opinion, your opinion means nothing anymore. (Maybe it never did?)
So.
As I read my Sunday NY Times, and get wired on caffeine, it is no easy challenge to keep my opinions to myself, while this nice keyboard here is eager for me to type something politically incendiary.
Because . . . in the end . . . our conflicted society is not my problem to solve.
At least not this morning.
