Bonfire for a friend

    On March 21st 2011 a self declared Christian Prophet named Harold Camping declared the world would end. Based on his personal bible study and some kind of magical numerology Harold Camping came up with this date, that interestingly coincided with the Jewish holiday of Lag baOmer.  Lag baOmer celebrates the end of a horrible plague that killed many students of Rabbi Akiva and memorializes their loss but also the survival of the living and great teachers, so it's a little sad and a little relief and waking up from a sorrowful time.  Not being Jewish, that is probably a very poor explanation of someone else's holiday- please forgive my reader's digesting of an important commemoration day. Traditionally it is celebrated with bonfires. On March 21, 2011 I had a celebratory bonfire to mark Harold Camping's arithmetic error and our survival. It rained but it was very cathartic.  It really appealed to me to celebrate both survival and the great teachers who have come into our lives. I also like to burn stuff.  Lag baOmer for 2025 was a couple weeks ago on March 15, 2025, so I missed it.

    A couple days ago I found out my college friend, and kind, generous, decent human being, Jerry Weible was in the ICU in Tacoma waiting for a heart transplant.  It is one of those often repeated but very true cliches that people with the biggest hearts are the one who are cursed with this sort of malady. Shocking, because while I knew he had heart issues in the past, he and the equally wonderful Lynn had been at our house a month or so ago and everything seemed great. I gave them one of my favorite paintings (see above photo). Lynn made an incredible coffee cake. All was right in the world. Jerry had been a martial arts instructor, and was in excellent health in his youth, so such betrayal of his physical body is especially unfair. He is, right now, as I write this in surgery- not transplant, but a preliminary surgery that will put in a pump system to get him through until a heart is available. My dad died in heart surgery when I was 10. I don't take such things lightly. 

    I declare a Lag baOmer for my friend Jerry. (I know that that isn't the way it works but...) I am going outside and starting a bonfire, hopefully in celebration of survival, possibly in memorial, but also in recognition of a good friend who is also a kind of teacher, a person I admire and who has helped me be a better person. Unironically Jerry: thoughts and prayers.

    Addendum: Strangely the fire seemed hard to light and harder to keep lit. Usually my fires are pretty much rip snorting  maelstroms, but this was not; smokey and low burning, wet wood and unenthusiastic flames. I don't know if that bodes well or ill or indifferent. I finally put it out at 2:29 PM. At 6:30 PM we heard from Lynn that Jerry had come through pretty well and was doing fine.

Oh yeah..Burning Elf 2024 happened...

    Another fine Burning Elf was had on December 30th,k 2024. Well attended, and our liquor cabinet depleted, many humans wished for and hoped to fully forget many things. The elf bore a slight resemblance to Elon Musk.

The Waking Nightmare of the New Normal

 

   I try very hard to not consume corporate news, or off brand internet news or too much sub-reddit conspiracy drivel, but it's no use: the Tangerine Burlesconi still exists and he is president of the USA and we are heading for the cliff with vacant stares and mouths agape. The idiotic, anachronistic uniquely American two month delay between election and inauguration was like a shot of novacaine to the brain: it couldn't be that bad, could it? It could. It is. It will be. My efete, useless defense to the Trumpanze Term #1 was to make and remake this sign which, was in turn, painted out and then torn down by Trumpinistas. Sadly, the message stays the same. More sadly, it seems that this carnival ride will be more dangerous than the first and the circus may burn to the ground before the clown can exit. 

Scotland with Curmudgeon

 Spent 2 weeks in Scotland, probably the closest thing my people have to an ancestral family homeland. I went with my 73 year old brother Bill, who had not left Washington state in many years and had never been to Europe ever. It was pretty great.  Of course  Trump was nicked in an assassination attempt, Biden dropped out and Kamala Harris-mania began while we were touristing.  It will be well remembered . I did bring home a case of Scottish variant Covid that spread through my house upon my return.

Rolf is Renewed. I am Mortal.

    

Some vandal jackass thought Rolf should have sharpie colored shades. It's fine. It means it is considered an established part of the neighborhood, that needs to be rebelled from.

Lars Fujikawa, in his desperate confinement due to his spiralling ailments had me and my fine sons repair the ROLF NESLUND MEMORIAL in the tiny, almost non existent Pigeon Point Gateway Park. His statue had been stolen for the second time and his plinth cracked and made useless. I made use of the old concrete base of the original post and poured a 200lb base with a 3" concrete infused steel post and built a (very ugly ) masonry column. I did learn not to fill masonry with cement until the masonry has properly set, which any special needs child of 4 could have told me. A new and quite attractive head was cast at the cost of the original mold which finally succumbed to age and over use. In the end Rolf was finished and secure. This is the kind of thing that both invigorates me and also makes me question my motives and life decisions.

As a personal side note, on my 63rd birthday (how did that happen?) I was walking to a neighbor's to pick up the ROLF plaque and I had an "event" where in I almost passed out. Having never fainted in my life, it was fascinating ; everything got dark around the edge of my vision and reduced to a tunnel like matte. I remember thinking, "oh, I am going to sleep now..." and then my legs fell out from under me. I caught myself and never hit the pavement but was on the way.  Atrial Fibrillation? Head rush with too much caffeine? Evil spirits and dark humors? Being a complete idiot I shook it off and finished the plaque project and then went home where a nice telephone nurse and my beloved Laurie got me to go to the emergency room. Not the bad stuff- no heart attack or stroke yet, but  I need to see a cardiologist. It sort of happened (with variations,) again the next day. 

Being old sucks. 

Civilization's Nite Lite in a Grim, Dark Room

 Laurie and I went to the Seattle Symphony today. We heard Bach's "Goldberg Variations" played by Vikingur Olaffson. It was very moving. It was inspiring and hopeful. It was beautiful. I kept thinking it was like the night light I had as a child that when I was afraid I would look at and remember that as long as the light was still on, I was and would be okay. Art and things like the symphony still operating are like that to me. I am starting to feel old, that the center will not hold. I take afternoon naps.  My joints and neck hurt for no reason. I have very little work. The last act begins. That is why something like a symphony concert can become such an amazing afternoon for an old man.

...Of course for every positive moment there is a moment of chaos. Laurie and I saw a downtown tweaker strip his clothes off and walk down 2nd Ave fully bare ass naked. It is a sad and beautiful world,

The Theme Park of Your Ancestors Beckons (and is totally indifferent)

     My beloved and I went to France-Holland-Germany (in EUROPE).  It was swell. I am unable at this time to speak anything but junior high level English so my communication with the locals was guttural pantomimes about food and bodily functions and asking if they spoke my sad and solitary language. While it was uniformly fascinating, it was also utterly indifferent to our presence, other than to accept our credit  card. I wish I had deep thoughts about our trip. It was nice to see countries not wholly consumed by MAGA politics and the orange pestilence, and strangely behaving as if the public welfare was important. Just the intricate dance of the bicycles in Amsterdam alone was enough to make you wish humans at home could simultaneously think of the greater good AND their own interests equally.

    One Saturday night in Paris stands out.  Laurie and I were tired but in search of food. It was hard to figure out the Google maps (a possible sign of being really old) and the streets at 7:00 pm were packed with beautiful young people . It was like Las Vegas or Coachella. I am not sure if I have ever felt more old or out of place.

Photo credit LAURIE SANDER - Quimper, France