Music
- Books, Daily Life, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Jinx, Music, Photographs, Prayers, Quotations, Reflections
Days and Days
The year has rolled back to the time when spider webs are more prominent in the mornings, especially with the dew hanging on the sturdy strands. This morning I saw one suspended beneath the maple in the back yard, the sun just starting to glance off the night’s architectural marvel. So much work. To be undone in so short a time. Such is the way of this world full of beautiful tragedy and melancholy art and small, fragile creatures with their arduous work and deceptive power. Speaking of the small creatures of the earth, Mrs. Orr told me something delightful last night. “Do you know what a group of ladybugs…
- Books, Daily Life, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Jinx, Movies, Music, Quotations, Reflections
The Path of July
I have a category on this blog with which I flag certain posts, a category called “I Never Thought I’d Be In This Situation.” The holiday of Independence Day is suddenly upon us, and my feelings about July 4th definitely fall into this category. Watching this country walk the path she’s on is a difficult thing for a man who grew up in the time of my youth; it’s a completely different place. This year, I will forgo watching any of the fireworks & music festivals that have been a custom for many years, like A Capitol Fourth and the Boston Pops annual concert. I won’t subject my eyes or…
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Trying To Sort Some Things Out…
….in my mind and soul. In the meantime, I’ll share some more of my annoying musical tastes. ~ S.K. Orr
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It Comes To This
Time comes when a man realizes, truly and finally, that he will never do any of those things he’s kept in the footlocker of dreams in the back of his life’s closet. They call themselves the Chicks now, because they’re ashamed of the word “Dixie” and because they’re progressive and they’re on the right side of history. Mind you, they don’t have much of a career anymore, and they’ve never been introspective enough to take the blame for their Maines-inflicted fatal wound, but they were once very enjoyable. And the lyrics to this song are poignant and powerful. And tonight, the lyrics are personal. UPDATE — I replaced the video…
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Not Sure Whose Will Be Done
I’ve long detested men who cultivate trademarks and eccentricities. Far too many in my past and present who wear garish socks, or inappropriate hats, or bizarre haircuts or outlandishly-sculpted facial hair, or a certain color of clothing every day (because the world needs more Johnny Cashes), or who steeple their fingers when offering their ninth-hand opinions, or who fondle pipes and cigars because a certain professor did so, or who carry hundred-dollar water bottles snapped onto their noncombatant and too-wide hips. It’s one thing to have a natural quirk; many men have them. But to read the biography of a famous or infamous man and then affect an eccentric mannerism…
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Home Again, Home Again
It’s difficult to believe that just a day ago, we were in Texas. We arose very early in the hot darkness and pointed ourselves northeast. I started to say that we arose at zero-dark-thirty, but Hollywood has ruined yet another Marine Corps/military/masculine phrase by poaching it and using it as the title of one of its predictable, degenerate flicks some years ago. They did the same with neat phrases like “Whisky Tango Foxtrot” and will likely continue doing this until the men who once used such phrases as a brotherly jargon will never again speak them aloud. But I am writing of Texas, not Hollywood. By the time we reached…
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Coming To You Live….
… from the Lone Star State. We’re on our summer jaunt to Texas, visiting son and daughter-in-law and two grandsons, soaking up the heat and the singular atmospheric vibe that is The Republic of Texas. We’ve been rained on, slobbered on by a beautiful Golden Retriever, nibbled on by a tiny rat masquerading as a chihuahua/poodle mix, read to by an intense and beaming blonde boy, treated to homemade purple hull peas and jalapeno poppers courtesy of MooMoo, wooed with promises of smoked brisket by Joshie-O, serenaded by another blonde grandson with a two-fisted corndog technique, watched a diamondback rattler making his way through a busy intersection, and have been…
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Later On Good Friday
The word “blessing” is grossly overused and misused these days, but my use of it here is absolutely precise: today was a blessing. I had the day off and was determined to spend it in reading, prayer, and contemplation. I did so. I prayed a full rosary in three stages, said all of the offices (so far) for The Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary. I worked on my Latin exercises (I’m trying to learn to say all of the major prayers in Latin), did a bit of work on some poems in progress, and wrote some prayers in my prayer book. I read a pretty sizable chunk of…
- Books, Church Life, Daily Life, Holy Days, Jinx, Lectio Divina, Music, Photographs, Prayers, Quotations, Reflections
Palm Sunday
We were flogged again with storms yesterday and last night. While out doing our weekly shopping yesterday afternoon, we huddled in the car while the sky turned inky and the lightning threw its crooked line daggers down, down near us. When we returned home, we learned that an area not far from where we had been was pelted with enough hail that it needed shoveling. The photos from the local weather station looked as if three inches of snow had fallen, and the damage to the siding on many homes looked as if a machine gunner had strafed the neighborhoods. I hoped all those eager young people who bought vegetable…
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Padraigh of Erin
A profound pity that the feast day for the patron saint of Ireland, Saint Patrick, is known more for drunken revelry and boorishness than for holiness and piety, especially since the feast in smack-dab in the middle of Lent. Reflecting on the saint’s life, I am grateful for men like Patrick, men who were brave and self-sacrificing and single-minded. How few of them there are today, and even fewer on the horizon and in the cribs. Ah, for a man to drive the serpents from the land, eh? And though it has nothing to do with Saint Patrick’s Day, I thought I would share one of my favorite Irish folk…