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Of course, it looks like it is nothing new.
Readers Note: This week’s offerings are being tossed in ahead of time, because we are out of town for the week. However, thieves beware, for my brother-in-law is staying at the house. And, we have a watchturtle!
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This is my addition – late this time – to the Loose Blogger Consortium Friday offering. Sorry gang. I didn’t forget, I ran myself out of time.
But, here it is, late rather than never. Why? Because I really do treasure what I share with you, the reader, and with my fellow bloggers in this group. They are listed on the left with clickable links and I encourage you to see what they have to say on Books, a topic brought to us by gaelikaa.
My original idea was to take photographs of my bookshelves, some leisure reading, some technical in my office, but decided instead that this post should be more book-like itself, lean, descriptive narrative unadorned.
This is a generation who reads, but I fear they may lose the joy of book reading, just as our generation lost the joy of sitting around the radio as a family, listening to a mystery on the radio, listening to a mesmerizing voice, images forming in your head. No two had the same experience, for what isn’t explicitly supplied must be supplied by the imagination, by the receiving party. The trick is for the presenter to be so descriptive in what is supplied that filling in, adding to, is involuntary. Television, unfortunately, does that filling in for you, the viewer becoming more passive, less actively engaged.
Now, why am I talking about the radio suddenly when this is a post about books? Because the analogy is apt. In our migration to on-line reading and to social media and to television, we are losing those same types of engagement that we lost with the passing of the great radio dramas. That, quite honestly, is the joy I have in seeing younger people caught up in the Harry Potter series; a re-engagement of the imagination, creation of a shared sub-culture entered through the pages of a book first, on the screen second.
The strongest argument I can make for the joy and magic of book reading is this: characters brought from a book story to movies or television virtually never meet the standards or the reality of that character who formed in my mind while reading. THAT is why I read for pleasure.
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Many things in this world confuse me, so it is nice when I can find something unambiguous that irons out the kinks of my confusion. One of these items is the obvious truth that absolutely everyone is now impotent. Fortunately, there is a solution to what nature does not provide.
First, you need to take a pill and then get it on sometime in the next thirty-six hours. You don’t want to waste the money that pill cost!
Second – and this is the part that shows me what I have been missing all these years – you need two bathtubs. Actually, it must be two bathtubs sitting beside a moderately large body of water. I haven’t found these yet, but I know they are out there, because I keep seeing them on TV.
Now, all of this, as attractive as it sounds, is not without its risks. I mean, if you are sincerely interested for longer than four hours, you are in trouble! My wife and I think how terrifying those last ten minutes must be. Do you keep watching the clock and at precisely four hours, do you immediately head to the hospital? Or, should you leave early, sitting in the parking lot, ready to race into the emergency room. And … I do NOT want to sit in the waiting room explaining to others what happened to me.
But, that is a minor annoyance to the other possibility – that you lose sight and hearing suddenly! It is advised that you call your doctor IMMEDIATELY if this happens!
My question is this: How? I’m blind and deaf.
For those members of other cultures who may not be as assailed by these difficulties as America apparently is, ask me and I will discretely let you know the television commercials and the products I am referring to. If you wish to have more fun, I advise that you ask Maynard, Magit and Deb what this is about, because I would LOVE to see what those three comedic minds could do with this!
And, in the spirit of things, this addendum just came in from Grannymar!
How men screw up romance! 
And this just came in!!
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Carol and I are always trying to get rid of junk. We have a garage full of it. We have relatives who use our house, for various reasons, for storage – something we are seeking to change just short of actually eliminating any of the relatives.
Of the more essential things around, I would count a stove and an oven and lights and a refrigerator and … well, practical things you use in day-to-day survival. Things can be replaced for the most part and most that can’t are fine gone, for it is people, pets and relationships that matter. However, there is an interesting class of inessential belongings that are a bit different.
Hard to know what possessed me to make these guys somewhere along the way, but I don’t think they should be tossed. You can’t find them in a store … for a reason. But, I made them, it was a hoot, and it makes me and Mom feel good when we look at the silly little jaspers.
The kiwi bird is blown glass around a piece of kiwi fruit from the land of the kiwis, New Zealand. We got him as the perfect complement to the Murano glass dolphin we bought when visiting Venice. As with the pieces below them, none of them would cause the world to stop if they disappear – but they sure bring back memories!
This hammer, refitted with another handle over the years, was the hammer used by my great grandfather, the first blacksmith in Central Kansas. I don’t really need the hammer, because I have sledge hammers for big jobs and smaller hammers for smaller work. It is easy to get a hammer at a store.
But, that hammer might as well be Thor’s Hammer as far as I’m concerned! You know what I mean?
So, what it comes down to is that the least essential of the things we have are often the ones most valuable to us. They are actually the touchstones of meaning for people. Priceless!
What do you have that is totally unneeded in any practical sense, but that is precious to you?
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This is another in the Friday offerings of the Loose Bloggers Consortium, this topic suggested by the Magpie himself. Check out the inessentials of the other members whose links you will find on the left under – you guessed it – LOOSE BLOGGER CONSORTIUM!
Be patient if someone doesn’t have an entry. They may be having fun with their items as we speak.
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Some of us – most specifically Grannymar and myself, although this could build into something larger – have decided to try a challenge which we are calling by the name you see in the title. We asked three of our non-blogging regulars to each write a paragraph on anything without conferring with one another or anyone else. We would work with what they produced in common.
Then, we would add two more people unique to our effort and our challenge is to make it into one cohesive post. I have decided to do this and to add this to my challenge: minimal additions of my own in sewing it together. I have decided to color code each of their parts so you can see who wrote what. So, it will be Deb, Margaret, Maynard (who sent an image, not a paragraph, which will be obvious), David and bikehikebabe in the colors I have made their names. My additions are in italic.
Drum roll please!
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Sometimes, they are silly things, these dreams, but I duly record my impressions anyway. I try to make my impressions meaningful for later reading, trying to fit them into sentences and paragraphs.
A paragraph is a section of writing that usually consists of either a sentence or group of sentences, dealing with a single thought or topic, or the words of one speaker, usually as direct speech. In a piece of text a paragraph is delineated by the first line being indented from the margin. I TRY to record my impressions this way, but sometimes it is impossible.
One dream generated a question with an image I tried to reproduce on a pad:
I half awakened and thought this was the most profound question a person could ever confront! It wasn’t even until I awakened fully that I realized I had mixed together my last name, Hake, with the word Naked … maybe. It’s as blurry as my thoughts were! But some of the dreams are more vivid, filled with portent:
Yesterday I saw my pan of bleach water was covered with dead ants. I looked up at the tongue & groove ceiling & it was black with ants. I called Tom & he jumped on his bike to come home. In the meantime I used a chair & then a ladder to get to ceiling to vacuumed them. They were falling on my back & biting. I covered myself with clothes & a shower cap. I couldn’t reach the ceiling without falling off ladder, but was able to vacuum them off floor. IT WAS FUN TO SEE THE LITTLE #@*)%# BEING SUCKED UP. Tom arrived & we spent an hour vacuuming & killing with a broom. Went to town & got Raid. Later not an ant left except for a very frantic one that got away. He knew what had happened. I killed him. I feel bad. I have a heart.
Upon awakening, I knew that dream was full of meaning, part of this intense series I’ve been having, pounding at me, trying to tell me something. I can’t seem to resolve my tough side and my sensitive side.
But, this morning, around the time of my second cup of strong coffee, realized that I did not dream again last night. This has me wondering if I’m not dreaming at all or if I’m just not remembering my dreams. I miss them. Have always dreamed vividly, lots of thrashing around, talking out loud, waking up any house guests, and about the strangest things. Some have been down right scary, waking up with a jolt of adrenalin and thinking WOW!! But for the most part, my dreams have just been entertainment for me, fun to rethink and try to make sense of. I’ve decided to take action in the form of supreme pizza right before bedtime. Sure hope it works! It worries me a bit when I can’t remember, for I feel I’m blocking something, and right now, I’m afraid I know what it is.
You all have probably seen pics of my Sheltie dogs. I have had Bubba, the male dog, for almost 13 years! Yesterday, he got up from a long nap on the ceramic floor, shook himself and fell flat and could not get back up. I was immediately sick to my stomach because I know he has reached the expensive stage of his life. I also know that I won’t have him much longer and that makes me even sicker to my stomach. He and I have a lot of history together and that will leave a huge hole in my heart. I guess all I can hope for is that he goes quietly and doesn’t suffer. If he does suffer, I wonder who I can bribe to take him to be euthanised because I know that is something I won’t be able to do! I start to cry just thinking about how much I will miss my best friend.
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There you have it, WHEW!!! How did I do? I can’t wait to see what Grannymar and possibly Ramana produce!
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A smoke monster – which I lamely represent above with a tornado, but I didn’t want to rip an image off from the TV show – comes out of the jungle to kill people on an island that may or may not really be there and people who were on a plane crash, but survive, later to go through time until we find that they are seemingly living in two universes in parallel. So one of them, who appears to be Jack, will have to take Jacob’s place to protect the good since Jacob is dead, but somehow is still present to transform Jack.
That is kind of how the TV show LOST goes. And, did I tell you that I absolutely love it?
My wife Carol would no more watch something like that show than pedal a bike to the moon. It isn’t her cup of tea. A lot of people that I know and respect wouldn’t be drawn to it. Neither would they enjoy the books that I read, many of them science fiction or fantasy. Intelligent science fiction and fantasy, good character development, well written – fine pieces of literature in their own right. I’m not trading thought for pabulum when reading something by Asimov or Stephen Donaldson or Jordan or Tolkien. I enjoyed The Dark Tower series about a gunslinger by Stephen King. But, why am I drawn to that genre?
I think it is because it closely maps the experience of my inner world. At least, it does so more closely than many of the more traditional sources, although I like those, too. All of us have a private world that, even were we to want to, we would be unable to express fully to another person. There is something a bit lonely about that.
Then, we read something that strikes a chord within and part of us becomes a bit less isolated. Less isolated, not because we expressed it, but because someone else expressed an inner landscape close enough to our own. If they don’t experience it themselves, at least they can create it. And, if they are good, their take adds depth, dimension, and understandings to our own and it is enjoyable.
So tell me, why do you read? What do you watch? Something that leaves you a little less lonely, a little less lost?
This Friday entry for the Loose Blogger Consortium series, where several members simultaneously post on a topic suggested by a member of the group. Then, we do what I encourage you to do, we go to one another’s blogs and see what each came up with, always fresh, always interesting.
This topic was suggested by Grannymar and you can find her link on the left hand side of the blog page under Loose Blogger Consortium. Not everyone writes every Friday, but I encourage you to click on their links on the left which will open a window showing their entries. Enjoy!
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Today should find us at the Franz Josef Glacier! My offering for the Friday Consortium topic of “art” – suggested by Ginger – is this set of pictures I pulled before the trip.
Sorry, Ginger. I have nothing more artistically profound today than nature … but that ain’t bad!
I will give my photos of it and my impression upon my return!
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Did you know that April Fools Day was the only day that WC Fields would celebrate? It was the day he said God created man!
A lot of people also don’t realize that Fields was one of the world’s best jugglers when he went into movies. Enjoy the great WC Fields:
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San Francisco, CA, February 27, 2010: Famed King Tutankhamun, boy King of Egypt, he of the foul cursing, has reportedly repented since it was discovered that he died from a leg infection and malaria, not as the result of a nefarious plot (nor even a Nefertitius plot), but instead a plot more of the garden variety. It seems he was a bit embarrassed that it wasn’t a death more exotic. To quote the King, speaking through Agnes Moredread (after everyone had successfully caused a table to rise and then bump around), “I felt kind of bad killing that guy who came into my tomb and then making that canary be eaten by the cobra and the dog drop over dead. I mean, it just wasn’t very nice. So, I have stopped cursing and hope to make it up to someone soon.”
Well, darned if he didn’t pull it off. On the afternoon of the dangerous Chilean tsunami which generated a wave of .8 ft. along the Pacific Coastline where San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park meets the ocean, an intrepid pair of locals survived by spending the afternoon wandering through the park somewhat aimlessly, enjoying it immensely. This unlikely couple were Carol and Conrad Hake, better known as the parents of Carly Hake, international scholar.
After going to see the genuine Dutch Windmill, which Carol had always wanted to see, they wandered to the 55-acre Botanical Gardens, noting the irony that the only section seemingly incomplete and in disarray was the section of native California plants. To quote Mrs. Hake, “It seems ironic at first … until you realize that this was the only section probably surrounded by plants of other lands and left simply as it was found. By definition, anything growing there HAD to be a California plant.” The Hakes have no further quotes after that, for they were found to actually be an uninteresting interview.
Wandering to the DeYoung Museum at 5:00 PM PST, they decided to check on the pricing of the King Tut exhibition taking place there. Walking to the ticket desk, Mrs. Hake asked the attendant what the cost was of the exhibit. The attendant replied, “Would you like to go in and see it now?” She was told that, “no, we simply wish to know the pricing and the time schedule for another day.” The Hakes had already spent $5.00 at the Botanical Gardens after all.
The attendant leaned over and spoke more slowly, perhaps thinking with some justification that the Hakes were not bright, saying, “No, you don’t understand. Would you like to go see it right now, FOR FREE? Someone did not pick up their tickets and we would like to give them to you.” Bright or not, the Hakes homed in on the word FREE like it was Momma calling them in to dinner, and gladly accepted.
Now, I copy the ticket so that you may examine it:
Not only were the Hakes given two tickets, they were given two VIP passes! The lines of people waiting to see the exhibit wound back and forth as they do in Disneyland; long lines, tiring lines. But, being the VIP’s they were, the Hakes were ushered around the lines completely and taken directly into the exhibit. Ten exhibit rooms of some of the most exquisite carvings, jewelry and furniture to be found anywhere!
Mr. Hake, who was thought to be mute to this point, was heard to exclaim as they disappeared into the night, “Thanks, Tut! I owe you one!”
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Picture of Tut Coffinette licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 Generic license.
- You are free:
- to share – to copy, distribute and transmit the work
- to remix – to adapt the work
- Under the following conditions:
- attribution – You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).
- share alike – If you alter, transform, or build upon this work, you may distribute the resulting work only under the same or similar license to this one.
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This is the Friday offering of the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a list of the members with links to their blogs on the left. We write on the same topic each Friday without knowing in any way what the others have written. This should be VERY interesting to see what the different members come up with and I want to personally thank Judy Harper, the Creative Writer in Progress on the left for such a delightful suggestion.
How many of you have seen the Will and Grace show when Jack met Cher? This clip is so funny, because Jack always imitated Cher – and you will see by the end of it how it fits in with our time travel theme.
If I could turn back time … what the heck would I do with it?
I put this together with certain assumptions. First, I assumed that I would not be visible to anyone in the circumstance, would not be able to interfere, just observe. Second, I assumed I could not be harmed by events or the environment. Third, I assumed I could place myself anywhere in space as easily as I could in time. In other words, I would be kind of a ghost!
Then I decided to just start free associating. My interests are always so eclectic, as anyone who has read this blog for awhile knows. I knew that if I had this ability, I would have a large number of interests that would be continually changing. In fact, what I can’t actually put in place here is how my next target would change depending upon the experience at the current and last place.
Also, note that none of my travel is to the future! I would only want to learn things from he past … but I wouldn’t want to screw up my present by knowing anything of the future. Besides, I think that any future would be a probable outcome anyway.
So, enough with the prelims. Here is the list of times / places that flowed out of me. And, let me tell you, this list would just grow and grow and …
And on and on. Where would you go? What would you want to see?
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