Three Beautiful Things 12-12-20: Mark Knopfler and JJ Cale, Braggin' Rights, Hamburger Soup

1. I was listening to several Dire Straits albums a couple of days ago. In the back of my mind, a memory stirred. I'd read somewhere that Mark Knopfler regards JJ Cale as a significant influence on his music, songwriting, and singing style.  I remember thinking at one point, and I don't know which album was playing, how much Mark Knopfler did, indeed, sound similar to JJ Cale. A jolt of pleasure shot through me. 

So, today, I fished out my cd called The Breeze: An Appreciation of JJ Cale. Eric Clapton headed up this project. Clapton, Tom Petty, Willie Nelson, John Mayer, Don White, Christine Lakeland and host of other musicians perform covers of sixteen JJ Cale songs. 

I love this album. Its third track features Mark Knopfler performing "Someday". Until I purchased this album, I'd never heard "Someday" and today my world stood still when it came on. To me, much of the genius of JJ Cale's way of playing and singing the Tulsa Sound is that he's never in a hurry. His songs move, they have a drive, but its unhurried, deceivingly casual. It's a perfect style for Mark Knopfler and I replayed his cover of "Someday" a couple of times, just to let Knopfler's vocal and instrumental stylings slow me down, put my mind at ease, and open the way for me to feel the emotion of this song about a guy who suffers the illusion that the woman who left him without saying goodby will someday be coming right back.  

Willie Nelson sings my other two favorite cuts on this album: "Songbird" and "Starbound". 

2.  I mixed myself a Yuse (bourbon, Cointreau, sweet vermouth, bitters) some time after five this afternoon and watched two terrific college basketball teams, Illinois and Missouri, stocked with veteran players, play a ferocious, fast-paced, physical, and emotional interconference rivalry game (the Braggin' Rights game). Illinois is one of the nation's top-ranked teams and Missouri's success this season has gone somewhat unnoticed, even though they soundly thumped the very talented Oregon Ducks earlier this month. Well, if Missouri was considered an underdog in this game, they proved to be equal to the challenge of playing Illinois, led for most of the game, fiercely defended their lead, and, in the end, defeated Illinois, 81-78.

3. When I took a few quarts of chicken stock to the basement freezer and took out a couple of quarts of crab stock to use in Sunday's fish chowder, I spotted an unmarked frozen quart of hamburger soup. I can't remember when I made it, but no matter. I heated it up and on this chilly December evening it was the perfect dinner. 

Three Beautiful Things 12-11-20: Zags Await Garza, The Body of Christ, What If?

1. Today was a packed day in college basketball and I watched three games. The most memorable was Iowa-Iowa State. Iowa's superb center, Luka Garza, played limited minutes because of foul trouble. But, get this: in 17 minutes, Garza took 14 shots and made 13 of them, including converting 6 of 7 of his three point shots. Add in the two free throws he made, out of four attempts, and, unbelievably, Garza scored 34 points, and I repeat, in just 17 minutes of play. 

Iowa is scheduled to play Gonzaga on December 19th. 

I really don't know how Gonzaga plans to defend Luka Garza while also trying to stop the rest of Iowa's sharpshooting team. It will be a stern test for the Zags.

2. I happened to catch a spot on television this evening that featured Rev. Liz Walker of Roxbury Presbyterian Church. She is working within her congregation and with African-Americans well outside the church to encourage people to trust the upcoming Covid-19 vaccination. 

Rev. Walker's appearance touched me in an unexpected way. Memories of worshipping in Episcopal churches from Eugene to College Park to Coeur d'Alene and many points in-between were suddenly upon me. Yes, I can and do have private, individual spiritual experiences while spending so much time by myself during the pandemic.  Right now, I am at peace with not joining any congregations, even with limited in-person worship available. My tears tonight, however, expressed that while my patience is far from running out, I look forward, when the time is right, to joining with others in celebrating the Eucharist together. Yes, I can, while home, participate in the mystical, eternal Body of Christ and it's wonderful. At the same time, with abiding patience, I calmly await the time when I can join with others, in person, to be a part of the temporal, physical Body of Christ. In the meantime, my contentment and longing live within me side by side and, thank God, my sense of contentment prevails. 

3. Staying home so much does, from time to time, heighten the never ending longings of my soul. I know that my longings outdistance ever having them satisfied and I am content knowing that. I have to be. Otherwise, almost all I'd do is suffer. 

Staying home so much has also inspired me to be playful in the kitchen, a source of contentment. I make as few trips to the store as possible and try to make the most of the supplies I have on hand. 

I enjoy playing around with food and one of the positive aspects of living alone is that I never have to concern myself as to whether anyone else is going to enjoy eating what I prepare.

I always know I will!

Look. I'm not Marcus Samuelsson in the kitchen, but I do like to play "what if".

Tonight, I knew I had some green salad with tuna in it left over from the other night. I wondered, what if I stretch this salad with the last bit of penne that's left in a bag I have on hand? So I cooked it up. Then, I wondered, what if I add black beans to it? So I opened a can of black beans, drained them, and seasoned them with cumin and garlic powder. 

I put the beans in with the salad, drained the pasta, ran cold water over it for a while, and added the penne to the bowl. I mixed it all up and wondered, hmmm, what if I add Parmesan cheese to this? So I did. I served myself a bowl of this mixture, took a bite, and wondered, what if I added rice vinegar to this combination of Romaine lettuce, carrots, celery, tuna, black beans, and penne? It was perfect. Rice vinegar added sweetness and played off of the cumin and garlic powder. This bowl had a fun variety of textures. It was kind of a mess, but it worked and was a lot of fun. 

Three Beautiful Things 12-10-20: Walking with Podcasts, *The Trial of the Chicago 7*, Love and Suffering at the Midnight Diner

1. I went on a longer than usual walk this afternoon, two miles. I began by dropping the water bill in the mailbox in front of the former Stein's Grocery building and then made my way to Riverside and walked east and then north to the end of Mullan to check out a house that Stu wanted me to report on. Stu lived in that neighborhood until the spring of '62 and wondered if the Carroll Chaffee house was still in good shape. Unless I got the house wrong, yes, that house is looking good. 

I then walked west on Riverside, turned south at Oregon St., west on Cameron, and returned home.

I listened to all of one podcast and part of another. 

First, on the Fresh Air podcast, I listened to Sam Sanders interview Craig Foster, the man featured in the movie, My Octopus Teacher. The movie enthralled me and this interview enlarged my understanding of Craig Foster's remarkable experience developing a relationship with an octopus in the frigid waters off False Bay, near Cape Town, South Africa. Like the movie, the interview so deeply engrossed me that I feel fortunate that I didn't walk right into anyone or get hit by a car when crossing streets.

Following the Craig Foster interview, this episode featured a review of the recently released Netflix movie, The Trial of the Chicago 7. 

Second, I listened to a fascinating interview on the podcast Broken Record, conducted by record producer, Rick Rubin, with Benmont Tench, the keyboard player for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. 

Benmont Tench fascinated me, not only with his tales about how he got involved with The Heartbreakers' predecessor, Mudcrutch, and was with the Heartbreakers from the beginning, but also with his personal history with rock n roll, rhythm and blues, country, bluegrass, and soul music. His history, and Tom Petty's history, their listening to all of these styles of music, especially when they were young, encapsulates the history of rock n roll itself. Listening to Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers on my own, I think I'm vaguely aware of the influences that energize their music and their sound, but listening to Benmont Tench helped me understand even more clearly how The Heartbreakers' sound is steeped in early rock n roll, country, rhythm and blues, and other styles of the music of the USA. 

Want to hear the Benmont Tench interview? Just click here. 

And if you'd like to go skin diving with Craig Foster and learn more about his octopus teacher and hear the Chicago 7 movie review, you can -- just click here. 

2. Hearing the review of The Trial of the Chicago 7 was just the nudge I needed to watch this movie tonight. It's been on mind for several weeks; tonight I flipped it on. 

I feel some obligation to say that this movie is a work of historical fiction -- which I very much enjoy. As in any fiction, in writing and directing this movie, Aaron Sorkin decided what parts of the history to focus on, which to magnify, and he created scenes that have the ring of political and moral truth, but that are not a part of the historical record. 

This is just to say that I didn't watch the movie as a historical account (although much of the movie is), but as a way to experience and understand the conflicts between those forces in 1968-69 that were protesting the Vietnam War through demonstrations, rallies, marches, and street theater and those forces that wanted to repress and suppress this movement, by methods of surveillance, infiltration, and violence. 

In short, I experienced this movie as telling a specific story in the ongoing and ever-present conflict between those in the United States who are inclined toward cracking down on dissent, bringing the unruly under control, by whatever means, and those who dissent, sometimes peacefully, sometimes confrontationally, but always in opposition to those for whom a sense of order and protection translates into cracking down, often cracking down very hard.

The movie tells its version of the events during the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago that led to the new Richard Nixon administration, with John Mitchell as the Attorney General, bringing charges of conspiracy and crossing state lines with intent to incite a riot against Tom Hayden, Abbie Hoffman, Jerry Rubin, Kenneth Dellinger, Rennie Davis, John Froines, Lee Weiner, and Bobby Seales. As the trial progressed, the case against Bobby Seales was declared a mistrial -- so what had been a trial of the Chicago 8 became what we know as the trial of the Chicago 7.

Aaron Sorkin locates his story primarily in the courtroom, but his narration moves back and forth from the courtroom to the movie's portrayal of events in Chicago and it explores tensions that existed between members of the Chicago 7, most pointedly between Tom Hayden and Abbie Hoffman, and, at times, Jerry Rubin.

I was fourteen years old in the summer of 1968. My chief concerns were getting through drivers ed and securing my daytime drivers license and trying to minimize my penchant for making multiple errors as the third baseman for the Schaffer's Babe Ruth team. I was much more into "Hey Jude" and "Pictures of Matchstick Men" and "Lady Willpower" than I was interested in the tensions that were occurring far away from Kellogg, ID.

The Trial of the Chicago 7 took me into a world that I had fleeting familiarity with back in 1968-69, but that was much more familiar to me now that I've read more, studied more, and thought more about those years and how the tensions the movie portrays never subside, are (and always have been) with us, making life in the USA a continuing struggle between those who seek reform and those who want to protect and preserve things the way they are, to maintain order.

Nothing, in my view, is a greater aid to accomplished actors than a well-written script. Aaron Sorkin tells a compelling story and writes masterful words and lines for his actors to bring to life. This movie brought together a superb cast of actors -- I won't list them all -- but, to be incomplete, I loved watching Frank Langella, Mark Rylance, Eddie Redmayne, Sacha Baron Cohen, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, Michael Keaton, Jeremy Strong, and the other actors work Sorkin's script, bring the conflicts and tensions alive, and animate this compelling story and all of its complexities.

3. When the movie ended, around 9:30, I needed time to let it settle in, time to ponder all the history I've been reading during the pandemic, and time to enjoy some saltine crackers with cream cheese and salami disks.

I decided that the best way for me to settle down and achieve a more restful state of mind before retiring to bed would be to watch the fourth episode in Season 1 of Midnight Diner.

I'm only going to give away one detail of this episode: its featured dish was potato salad - and the episode ended with excellent instruction for making potato salad.

This episode's story was unusual, introducing a character that, for me, was totally unexpected. The story that unfolded about this character was moving. It was related to the potato salad. This episode perfectly brought to life the contradictions, the kind of surprise, the unexpected juxtaposition of unlike qualities that are common in the haiku. In barely twenty minutes, in a calm and minimalist way, this episode took its viewers deep into the heart of suffering and love. 

 

Three Beautiful Things 12-09-20: Leftovers Combined, Ocahzuke in *Midnight Diner*, *My Beautiful Laundrette*

 1. I tried something a little different and very simple when I fixed dinner tonight. I browned some ground beef, seasoned with garlic powder, chili powder, and oregano. Before long, I added leftover brown rice. When the rice was heated up and the ground beef cooked through, I took out the leftover Israeli salad I made for family dinner on Sunday. I separated out the cucumbers, eating them while I did so, and poured the remaining tomatoes, red pepper, green onion, and some of the olive oil and lemon dressing over the ground beef and rice. Once these ingredients were warm, I enjoyed this bowl of food a lot -- it was kind of Mediterranean, sort of Tex-Mex (would have been more so with shredded cheese and a tortilla) and very delicious -- and a fun way to combine some of my leftovers in the icebox. 

2. I'll jump ahead to the end of my night. I've been considering lengthening my days, going to bed a little later, as a way of watching more movies. After I watched a movie (see below) this evening while enjoying a cup of Yorkshire black tea, I was ready for some more viewing. I returned to Midnight Diner, the Japanese series available on Netflix, the one I started last week.

I watched episode 3. Similar to the other two episodes I watched, this one, in under twenty-five minutes, explored fragility, how tenuous, for example, friendship can be, and explored the question of whether, after a rupture, friends are able, if they so desire, to reconcile. This episode's featured dish was ocahzuke, a comforting bowl of hot tea over rice that is often served with an accompanying third ingredient in the bowl. The "Ocahzuke Sisters", the nickname Master gave the three women featured in this episode, always order the same ocahzuke. One orders pickled plum, another salmon, and the third, cod roe.

3. Tonight, I watched the movie, My Beautiful Laundrette. I watched this movie back in 1986 at the Bijou Arts Cinema in Eugene during what, for me, was a peak time in cinema for independent movies. Several released between about 1983-87 come to mind: Mona Lisa, Sid and Nancy, Sweet Lorraine, Paris, Texas, Choose Me, Streetwise, Shoah, Kiss of the Spider Woman, The Official Story, Enormous Changes at the Last Minute, and others. I enjoyed movies directed by John Sayles during this time -- Liana, Baby It's You, The Brother from Another Planet, Matewan, and, a little later, Eight Men Out. 

It's fun to remember the night in August in 1983 when I went to a double feature at a theater in Berkeley and saw Baby It's You and The Grey Fox. I nearly came out of my seat during The Grey Fox when someone in the movie made a reference to mining in Kellogg, Idaho. Of course, that would stick with me!

Back to My Beautiful Laundrette. I had a great time watching this movie again, but one thing I had hoped would happen, didn't.

I had hoped I would be transported back to 1986 and the night I walked out of the Bijou Arts Cinema feeling on fire about My Beautiful Laundrette and that I would recall, maybe even relive, what jolted me so much about this movie, why I was so thrilled by it. 

That memory is gone. Did I find its portrayal of Johnny and Omar's romance courageous? The way it crossed cultural and class divides? Was it its study of the angry, aggrieved, and violent underclass youth in South London who took out their grievances, often violently, on immigrant Pakistanis? Was it the portrayal of Omar's father, a Pakistani journalist who was so hollowed out by having left Pakistan and having moved to London that he spent his days in bed, drinking vodka? It might have been any or all of these things. I don't know. Throughout my viewing this evening, my thirty-two year old self remained hidden away, unwilling or unable to rise up and tell me why this movie mattered so much to him thirty-four years ago.

So, tonight, I experienced My Beautiful Laundrette as a sixty-six year old, closing in rapidly on sixty-seven.

Tonight I experienced this movie as a study of England during Margaret Thatcher's tenure as prime minister. The Pakistanis in the movie are portrayed as outsiders, certainly seen as a threat to jobs and money by the thuggish Paki-bashers, but (except for Omar's father) the Pakistanis are also portrayed as epitomizing material success in Thatcher's England: they are enterprising entrepreneurs, enjoying the pleasures of capital, pursuing money voraciously and not always within the law. 

In case you see the movie, I won't go into detail about the laundrette. I'll just say that the laundrette comes to embody the Thatcher vision of economic development and becomes a flashpoint of white resentment in the South London area where Omar operates it.

While the socio-economic realities in My Beautiful Laundrette are always present, I experienced the movie as a complex portrayal of human relationships, yes, in the romance between Omar and Johnny, but also in the world of Omar's extended family. Even though the Pakistanis in this movie came to England on their own volition, they are displaced, outsiders, under suspicion, and never at home. I experienced a range of ways that these characters expressed and lived out their longings, dissatisfactions, desire for union, and frustrations. 

I enjoyed how the movie was, at times, like watching a series of short films. The movie's detours added to the movie's depth. I enjoyed its stark realism and also its moments of magic realism. I also enjoyed how, by being a little bit incoherent, the movie explored not only the displacement and sense of dislocation in the Pakistani characters, but also in the British characters -- and not just the underclass, angry youth. I began to think this evening that the movie's central and most revealing relationship was between Omar's Uncle Nasser and his British mistress, Rachel; as I think about it, though, the Johnny/Omar relationship is also central and very revealing. Both relationships embody so much of what this movie explores emotionally, economically, sexually, and culturally. I don't think I'm wise in trying to rate one as more important than the other. 

To conclude, yeah, I was a little disappointed tonight that my experience in 1986 didn't come rushing back to me. I really wanted to know what my younger self had enjoyed so much about this movie. But, that's gone. (No problem.) That I had such a scintillating experience watching this movie tonight, almost as if I'd never seen it before, more than compensated for my bit of disappointment.

I do remember, though, back in 1986, I recommended this movie to others. One of those people hated the movie and reported back to me with some anger and a lot of confusion that I had recommended it.

Her anger was instructive. Over time, I quit recommending movies and began to do what I've done in this blog post: describe what I experienced while watching the movie and leaving it at that. 

I am way too easy to please to be making recommendations. 

By the way, I'm the same way with food and restaurants. 

Three Beautiful Things 12-08-20: Basketball - Briefly, Val and Bourbon Renewal, Bill Davie Performs and Reads Donald Hall Prose

 1. I watched parts or all of three college basketball games today. It almost hurt I wanted so badly for Creighton to defeat Kansas, but thanks to some failures at the free throw line (and one miss with barely a second left to play), Creighton lost to the Jayhawks, 73-72. 

I was eager to watch Iowa play North Carolina since the powerful Iowa team will play Gonzaga on December 19th (unless the season is suspended or one of the teams has virus problems). Iowa has a strong core of returning players, some mind-boggling sharpshooters from beyond the arc, and the muscular, tireless Luka Garza at center. North Carolina could not, in the long run, contain both Garza inside and Iowa's firepower from outside and Iowa won this game, 93-80.  

If the Gonzaga/Iowa game is, indeed, played, it will be a fascinating matchup. Both teams are powerful on offense and Gonzaga will be stoutly challenged to defend Luka Garza inside. He's strong, agile, relentless, experienced, and versatile. In short, a tall (pardon the pun) order. 

Because it was on during Bill Davie's concert tonight, I hardly watched the older, more talented Illinois Fighting Illini dispatch the Duke Blue Devils, 83-68. 

2. I already wrote on this blog that on Monday, I received a most generous and tasty care package from Val Sanford. But I'm going to write it again. The box included Plantation's Stiggins' Fancy Pineapple Rum, Buffalo Trace Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey,  Jacquin's Creme de Cassis (Black Currant liqueur), and Peach Bitters.

Val sent me this box so that I could make myself a cocktail called Bourbon Renewal, a cocktail Dave Veldhuizen introduced to her and that she loves.  Until I actually got down to mixing it tonight, I thought the drink included all of the booze she sent me, but I was wrong. Val sent me the rum to sip over ice on its own. The Bourbon Renewal blends bourbon, Creme de Cassis, Peach Bitters, fresh-squeezed lemon juice, and simple syrup. 

So, during halftime of one of today's games, I made a small batch of simple syrup and then, around 6:30, I got out my cocktail shaker, put some ice it it, and mixed together 2 oz of bourbon, 1 oz of lemon juice, .5 oz of Creme de Cassis, and .5 oz of simple syrup. The recipe calls for a dash of bitters, but I am not that subtle of a guy and I shook out three or four dashes. I shook this mixture and poured it into a old-fashioned glass filled with fresh ice and garnished it with a lemon slice.

It's an awesome cocktail with just the right layers of sweet and sour. The subtle brown sugary taste of the bourbon plus the raisiny sweetness of the Creme de Cassis and the small amount of simple syrup is offset beautifully by the lemon juice and the bitters. I almost got greedy about halfway through Bill's concert and mixed myself a second, but, instead, I freshened the ice in my glass and enjoyed a short pour of the Siggins' Fancy Pineapple Rum. Whoa! Loved it!

Both the fifth of rum and the fifth of bourbon have a bunch of writing about the liquor on the bottle label. Soon, I will sit down and read these labels and find out more about these exquisite liquors Val sent me. 

3. Bill Davie presented Tree House Concert #32 this evening, live on Facebook, from his Christmas lights lit studio in suburban Seattle. Bill had wondered if he would be able to play more than about a half an hour tonight because of physical pain he's experiencing. He overcame the pain and the concert lasted twice that long. His music selections were spot on, sometimes nostalgic, sometimes surreal. Instead of reading poetry tonight, Bill read the elegant, elegiac prose of Donald Hall, heartfelt passages from two of Hall's books: String Too Short to be Saved and A Carnival of Losses: Notes Nearing Ninety. The Donald Hall selections ranged from a story Hall recalls from his youth when he attended the 75th wedding anniversary of a couple -- the man is 100 years old, the woman 92 (I think) and the young Donald Hall comes to find out that the husband no longer knows the name of his wife to the indignities Donald Hall suffered as it became too dangerous for him to drive a car any longer.

A sidenote: I've been yearning for a particular kind of prose to read. I plan to order, and own again, Brenda Peterson's collection of essays, Living by Water; I plan to buy Aimee Nezhukumatathil's recent book of essays, World of Wonders; lately, I've been thinking a lot about Carolyn Bly's collection of essays, Letters from the Country (until I gave it away, I loved this book); and, now, thanks to Bill's prose reading tonight, I plan to purchase prose and essays by Donald Hall. What Bill read tonight fits perfectly into the kind of writing I've been thinking a lot about over the last couple of months. 

Three Beautiful Things 12-07-20: Val Sends a Care Package, A Dose of Marcus Samuelsson Vitality, Chicken Noodle Feast

1. Weeks and weeks ago, Val told me that if I emailed her my mailing address, she would send me a care package with the ingredients to mix the cocktail, Bourbon Renewal (she calls it Urban Renewal!). Finally, last week, after weeks of forgetting to do so, I sent her my address and she promptly packed a box containing bottles of Plantation's Stiggins' Fancy Pineapple Rum, Buffalo Trace Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey,  Jacquin's Creme de Cassis (Black Currant liqueur), and Peach Bitters. All I need to provide, now, to make the cocktail, is some fresh-squeezed lemon juice and simple syrup. 

I was going to mix myself a Bourbon Renewal today, but Tuesday, December 8th at 7 p.m. is the next Tree House Concert performed by Bill Davie. I always mix myself a cocktail to enjoy while listening to Bill perform live on Facebook and it's highly likely, if not guaranteed, that Val will be in the virtual room, so I will make a small batch of simple syrup, squeeze the juice out of a lemon, mix these ingredients, and enjoy my first Bourbon Renewal during Bill's concert in the virtual company of Val. 

2. Marcus Samulesson enthralls me. His latest book, The Rise: Black Cooks and Soul of American Food has just been released and today I listened to Dave Davies interview him on a November episode of Fresh Air. Samuelsson is an enthusiastic ambassador for international cuisine, especially as prepared in restaurants owned and operated by immigrants across the USA. If you've ever watched his PBS series, No Passport Needed, you know that he goes to one US city after another and profiles the cuisine of a wide variety of countries available in these cities. His feature on Ethiopian restaurants in Washington, DC inspired me to have lunch at Queen of Sheba Ethiopian Cuisine in the Flour Mill a year ago September. I hope Queen of Sheba will be open whenever I decide to dine in Spokane again. 

In this recent Fresh Air interview, Samuelsson talked about turning his Harlem restaurant, The Red Rooster, into a community kitchen last spring, the details of his new book, episodes of No Passport Required, and what he envisions as the short term and long term future of restaurants in the shadow of the pandemic.

3. That batch of chicken noodles I made a little while ago just keeps on giving. I enjoyed a steaming bowl for dinner tonight and I still have a pint left in the container. At the risk of being redundant, I sure enjoy the impact the allspice and cloves have on the broth that resulted from the way I cooked that whole chicken last week. It's not only tasty, but warming and comforting, too. 

Three Beautiful Things 12-06-20: Villanova Over Texas, Great Time on ZOOM!, Splendid Family Dinner

 1. Not only do I enjoy watching Villanova's men's team play basketball, I really like the way the name VILLANOVA looks stretched out across a gray sweatshirt. A while back I ordered myself a gray Villanova sweatshirt from their university's bookstore, but it hasn't arrived yet, so as I settled in this morning to watch Villanova play Texas, I happily wore my St. John's hoodie! 

The game itself kept me on the edge of my seat for the duration. Texas entered this tilt undefeated. Their squad is experienced, especially at the guard positions, long, tall, and versatile up front, and the Longhorns playswith fervor. Villanova matched Texas' intensity, made two or three decisive defensive plays late in the game, and made most of their free throws late to ice a demanding 68-64 win over the Longhorns. 

2. I poured myself the cocktail that Debbie and I call the Yuse -- short for "the usual" -- a blend of bourbon, Cointreau, sweet vermouth, and orange bitters (regular bitters also work) and flipped on my ZOOM app. It wasn't long before Bill, Diane, Bridgit, Val and I were in my living room and all in each others' homes. As we always do, every two weeks, we dove into a wide range of subjects -- we talked about current events and the divides that exist in the USA, our country's history, poetry, music, Christmas lights, and other stimulating and delightful things. 

I don't know if I mention this often, but when I think about all the things I can do on my little MacBook Air -- talk to friends on Zoom, watch videos clips from Laverne and Shirley -- like  Lenny and Squiggy as contestants on The Dating Game--, read daily missives from Heather Cox Richardson, listen to lectures and poetry readings, devour clips of Larry Bird dishing out spectacular assists, enjoy conversations with friends on Messenger, and a wide range of other things -- it fills me with gratitude that while I mostly confine myself, day to day, to staying home, I enjoy infinite riches that make their way into this tiny house and make my time of solitude more than just bearable -- it's more often than not stimulating and enjoyable. (And I didn't even mention what's available on my good old Vizio!)

3.  Christy, Carol, Paul, and I gathered at chez Roberts this evening and resumed our invigorating habit of joining together for Sunday family dinner. 

Earlier in the day, I made a quick shopping trip to Yoke's. Back home, I halved cherry tomatoes, chopped one and half cucumbers, cut up about four green onions, and chopped up a red bell pepper. I combined these ingredients in a bowl and dressed them with a combination of crushed garlic, olive oil, fresh squeezed lemon juice, and some dry oregano. Having dressed this Israeli salad, I seasoned it with some salt and pepper and some Za'atar. Lastly, I made an executive chef decision, strayed away from the recipe, and sprinkled slivered almonds over the salad. I think the salad worked.

Our time together for dinner was awesome. We learned how Christy spent her first week without Everett. I already knew that Carol and Paul helped brighten up her home, inside and out, with Christmas decorations and lights. I also knew she'd taken Riley out for some exercise. I didn't know about phone calls she received and made, the visits of friends, more visits planned, and some of the business matters she tended to right away after Everett passed away. 

I also appreciate the cooperation my sisters, Paul, and I share. I've read and heard several stories, especially as Covid cases have increased this fall, about what I think of as accidental exposures to the virus -- exposures that happened at family gatherings or other private get togethers that were small(ish) and involved people who had no idea they were carrying the virus, who assumed being with each other was safe. 

We have our family dinners at Carol and Paul's because they have a roomy living room and we can spread out. One day we'll return to the dining table, but it'll be a while. 

So, even though we would be at a good distance from each other this evening, I asked my sisters and Paul if they would agree to join me in wearing face coverings when we weren't eating or drinking this evening.

No problem. 

They happily agreed. I can't speak for Carol, Paul, and Christy, but I can say for myself that our joining together to protect each other made our time together more relaxing for me and I appreciated in a huge way that we agreed to this arrangement so easily. 

Three Beautiful Things 12-05-20: Chicken in the Kitchen, Jim Page and Jessica Lurie, Uncanny Connections

1. I was looking forward to the Gonzaga/Baylor tilt today, but two Covid tests in Zag World, a player and a person traveling with the team, forced the game's postponement. With some extra time on my hands, I strained and stored the chicken stock I had going. Later, I used some slightly older chicken stock and made a chicken, rice, and vegetable soup that worked out pretty well. I continued my familiar kitchen dance, loading the dishwasher, unloading it, loading again, and trying to keep things half way spiffed up.

2. I accidentally, and fortuitously, happened upon the recording of the Facebook Live concert that Jim Page and Jessica Lurie gave today, outdoors, in a driveway -- Jim's driveway? I didn't catch that detail. I'm a bit hazy on the details, but if I don't have it quite right, and if you know better, please let me know -- but it looks to me like Jim performs a regular series called Essential Music from the Porch (or Driveway?). Whether it's regular or whether it's at Jim's house, I'm not sure, but what I am sure of is that this hour of live music was sensational. I'd heard of Jessica Lurie's band, originally called the Billy Tipton Memorial  Saxophone Quartet, but now known as the Tiptons Sax Quartet, but Jessica's name was not familiar to me and I figured out who she is by clicking around online. 

Her accompaniment on saxophone, flute, and accordion to Jim's sons was sublime. It was subdued, perfectly pitched to Jim's style, and added emotional depth to Jim's lyrics and singing. I not only deeply enjoyed Jim Page and Jessica Lurie playing together, I enjoyed the memories that surfaced of other duets I've heard over the years, like, say, Alasdair Fraser and Paul Machlis. Fraser is a lyrical and sometime forceful Scottish fiddler, but the two or three times I heard him play at the University of Oregon with Paul Machlis, I was struck by how Machlis, a gifted pianist, played so beautifully and subtly underneath Fraser's fiddling, never calling attention to himself, but enhancing Fraser's performance. Dave Swarbrick had a similar talent as a fiddling accompanist, particularly when he played in support of Martin Carthy. 

I loved how Jessica Lurie and Jim Page played together today. I had never imagined hearing Jim Page being accompanied by flute, saxophone, and accordion and the concert left me yearning for more. 

By the way, familiarizing myself with Jessica Lurie led me to explore the story of Billy Tipton, a jazz pianist and saxophonist, who died in Spokane in 1989. Then it came back to me -- the story of how Billy Tipton was a woman, born Dorothy Lucille Tipton, but passed herself off as a man during her long career as a jazz musician. I have quite a list of books developing that I'd like to read. Today I learned that Diane Middlebrook, also a biographer of Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath, wrote a biography of Billy Tipton, Suits Me: The Double Life of Billy Tipton. I will add it to my list. 

3. Speaking of Diane Middlebrook, it's uncanny how things sometimes connect. Thanks to that episode of Gravy I listened to on Friday, I've been reading poems by Aimee Nezhukumatathil and I learned today that she was a Diane Middlebrook Poetry Fellow at the University of Wisconsin. If it weren't for Jessica Lurie accompanying Jim Page leading to me reading about Billy Tipton and discovering that Diane Middlebrook wrote a biography of Billy Tipton, the name Diane Middlebrook wouldn't have meant anything to me when I read that Aimee Nezhukumatathil had won a fellowship bearing Diane Middlebrook's name. Oh! Right! This string of connections only happened because Bill Davie shared  Jim Page and Jessica Lurie's concert yesterday on his Facebook page and I stumbled upon his share. 

I've read four or five of Aimee Nezhukumatathil's poems today. I don't quite have the right words yet for my enjoyment of them and want to read more. I also found an audio recording of an interview with her and the interviewer very politely asks Nezhukumatathil to help her with the pronunciation of her last name. I learned that the h's are silent and listened four or five times to Nezhukumatathil say her name and I'm starting to be able to pronounce it correctly myself, to my delight. 

Three Beautiful Things 12-04-20: Walking with Aimee Nezhukumatathil, Air Freshener, Marquette Wins! The Ducks Win!

1. Early this afternoon, I wrote out a couple of bills and decided to walk them to the mailbox in front of the shuttered grocery store, Stein's. I decided to listen to another episode of the podcast, Gravy. It featured poet and nature writer Aimee Nezhukumatathil of the University of Mississippi. Nezhukumatathil recently published a book of short essays, each one focused on a specific plant, bird, or animal, especially marine life in a collection entitled, World of Wonders. On Gravy today her stance toward the world of nature and her experience as a minority American citizen, married to a white man, and raising mixed race children was refreshingly positive and optimistic. She read a couple of excerpts from her book -- a part of her essay, "Corpse Flower" and a bit of "Firefly". I will order and read her book. I'm not at all familiar with Nezhukumatathil's poetry and I look forward to seeking it out. (One motivator -- she was a recipient of the Richard Hugo Prize from Poetry Northwest [not sure what year]). 

2. The kitchen was getting a bit too tidy, so I took the carcass of the whole chicken I cooked on Thursday, put it in the crock pot along with onion, celery, and carrot chunks and seasoned it with garlic powder, salt, lemon pepper, sage, oregano, thyme, allspice, and whole cloves and got some chicken stock started.  A slow cooking batch of chicken stock is the world's best air freshener, in my book. I almost regret that some time on Saturday, I'll strain this stock and fill up quart containers and store it. 

3. Today's rivalry game between Marquette and Wisconsin presented, to me, a fascinating contrast. On the one hand, Wisconsin's very experienced team returned five of their top six players from a year ago when they tied for the B10 title. On the other hand, Marquette lost one of the nation's top players, Markus Howard, another very strong player, Sacar Anim, and a solid starter, Brendan Bailey. This year Marquette will be piecing together a team with a handful of returning players, a superb freshman, and two particularly strong players who transferred from other teams. 

As I started to watch this game, I thought Wisconsin would wear down Marquette and, in the long run, prevail. 

But Marquette turned out to be much stronger than I expected. In particular, transfer D. J. Carton and freshman Justin Lewis made huge contributions. With under a second left, D. J. Carton got fouled with Marquette down by a point. He made his first free throw. Game tied. He missed the second, but Justin Lewis managed to tip the rebound and it dropped through the hoop, giving Marquette a dramatic upset win, 67-65.

Over the last two basketball seasons, I've watched a ton of Big East Conference games. Marquette is in the Big East and I had to make a mental adjustment to watching them play without Markus Howard.

In the next game I watched today, I had to make two such adjustments. The Big East's defending co-champion Seton Hall lost the irrepressible, irreplaceable Myles Powell to graduation and Oregon lost their irrepressible, irreplaceable point guard, Payton Prichard, also to graduation. While I'm more than ready to move on, I missed seeing these two players tonight and missed Payton earlier in the week when Oregon played Missouri.

Seton Hall, despite losing Powell, has a solid foundation of returning players to build around. Oregon has a few returning players, but as if often the case with the Ducks under Coach Dana Altman, they landed four strong transfers: Eric Williams, Amauri Hardy, LJ Figueroa (from my Big East fav St. John's!), and the superb Eugene Omoruyi and added a very talented freshman, Jalen Terry. 

Against Missouri on Wednesday night, the Ducks started their first game of the season sluggishly, as if they weren't quite sure of themselves, not quite sure of how to play together. They looked much better in the second half of that loss and tonight the Ducks looked in sync and more comfortable as a team right from the start.

Tonight was LJ Figueroa's first game as a Duck. Just today, he found out that the NCAA granted him a waiver to play this season. I was eager, almost restless, to see how Figueroa would blend in with the Ducks, how he would adjust to playing a different style of game at Oregon from what St. John's plays, and what his contributions would be.

At St. John's LJ Figueroa was, I thought, a wild card. He's athletic, mobile, runs the court beautifully, but, at St. John's, he was streaky on offense. If he got hot, he was dangerous, but when he turned cold, his shots were often ill chosen, sometimes wild, and, as much as I rooted for him, at times he made me cringe.

I didn't cringe once during this game in response to Figueroa. He played terrific defense with four steals and a blocked shot. He was Oregon's leading rebounder with 9, three of them offensive boards. He only took three shots, made two of them, and added two free throws. His six points were modest, but I really admired how he surrendered himself to Oregon's offensive system. On offense, he kept the ball moving, dished out two assists, and only turned the ball over once. In time, I could see Figueroa being more assertive on offense with his drives and, possibly, his outside shot, but if not, the role he played tonight as a facilitator, rebounder, and defensive disrupter will be very valuable to the Ducks. 

In the second half of this game, after leading by six at halftime, the Ducks stretched their lead into double digits, protected this lead, and defeated Seton Hall, 83-70.

One last note: Seton Hall's best player is Sandro Mamukelashvli. He's 6'11", can score from outside, drives to the rim powerfully, and makes great passes to his teammates.

In this game, the Ducks kept Mamukelashvli from getting the ball often, choked him when he did, and neutralized him for most of the game. Mamukelashvli only took seven shots from the field. He made three of them, but only scored 10 points. This defensive effort by the Ducks might have been the most crucial factor in tonight's win. 

Three Beautiful Things 12-03-20: Walking a Loop, Reunion with Jeff Steve - Meeting Anne, Chicken in the Kitchen

1. I had my annual Medicare wellness check-up today at the clinic uptown. I drove to the Trail of Cd'As near the corner of Railroad Ave and Hill St., parked the car, and walked west on the trail and turned south where there's an asphalt path from the trail up to the back side of the Shoshone County Mining and Smelting Museum and on east a short ways to the clinic. After I finished my successful check-up and had some blood drawn, I walked east on McKinley Ave, down the Hill St. hill, and back to the Sube. I prefer walking a loop and I liked this loop. It includes walking up hill and down, covers about a mile, takes just under twenty minutes, and I can imagine some ways to extend this route without retracing my steps. This is good news in my inconsistent walking life.

2. Jeff Steve was a student at Whitworth when I taught there the second time, but we didn't know each other in Spokane. He's from Coeur d'Alene where we had several mutual friends and acquaintances, but we didn't really get to know each other until he moved into an apartment building at the corner of 8th and Lawrence, directly behind the building I lived in on W. Broadway in Eugene.  Jeff earned his law degree at the University of Oregon. We lost touch, but rediscovered each other on Facebook and, in 2010, Jeff and I reunited at the Steve family place perched above Cougar Bay on Lake CdA -- and visit which included a visit from NIC powerhouse English instructor, Virginia Tinsley-Johnson, a great pleasure.

Jeff lives in Ventura, CA now and one of his avocations is kayak building. 

Jeff and his pal Anne came through Kellogg today on their way to Minnesota. Jeff was delivering a kayak he sold. They stopped for a while early this afternoon and we made the most of our time together with about an hour of conviviality, laughter, and reminisces. I enjoyed very much meeting Anne and enjoyed hearing what they have planned for their trip between here and Minnesota. 

3. I cooked a whole chicken this evening and used about half of it to make a pot of chicken noodles with carrots, celery, and onion. I'm experimenting with cloves and allspice in the chicken broth which I enjoyed a lot. I have bones, now, to make chicken stock and about half a chicken's worth of pieces to make another chicken dish -- I don't know what, yet, but I'm thinking it might include some of that rice I cooked up Wednesday night. 

Three Beautiful Things 12-02-20: My Rock to Roll, Zags Face the Bruising Mountaineers, Rice Dreams

 1. I keep cleaning the kitchen. The kitchen cleaning will never be finished. It is an unending work in progress -- the counters, stove, dishes, dining table, floor, the refrigerator -- I wipe, wipe, wipe, sweep, sweep, sweep, load, unload, more to load. I'm very happy in the kitchen. It's also reminds me endlessly of the eternal truth of the Myth of Sisyphus. 

2. I vaguely remember that when I was on the KHS basketball team and we faced an opponent even faster, stronger, and more talented than I was ready for,  I'd feel disoriented, dizzy, and lost - if I happened to be playing. 

Tonight, in the first half of their game with West Virginia, a rough physical team, I thought the Zags looked surprised and disoriented, especially Drew Timme. I posted a message to Stu that I thought the Zags needed the break at half time to come so Timme, and others, could clear their heads, come to grips with the reality of West Virginia's strength and relentlessness, and possibly come out in the second half knowing what was coming and deal with it more ably. Oh! One other thing -- as a member of the KHS Wildcats, when I experienced this disorientation, it made me sluggish. Energy drained out me. I thought I saw some of that tonight in the Zags. 

In addition, with about seven minutes left in the first half,  the Zags' powerhouse freshman point guard, Jalen Suggs, slipped when making a pass, landed awkwardly on his left foot and crumpled to the floor, writhing in pain. Seeing Suggs in so much pain shocked his teammates, deflated them, and they needed to get into the locker room at halftime to gather themselves after witnessing Suggs go down.

The Zags did, in fact, turn the tide of the contest their way in the second half. Drew Timme played more aggressively, played stronger; Jalen Suggs, against all odds, returned to play the last fifteen minutes of the game; newcomer, transfer Andrew Nembhard made play after play and helped pick up the slack left by Suggs' absence and played well with Suggs upon his return; Joel Ayayi played his subtle, quietly efficient, graceful game both offensively and defensively; and Corey Kisbert showed once again that not only is he what he's always been, a sharpshooter from distance, but he's also developed into a more physical player, rugged on defense and much more aggressive and powerful going to the tin than he was in his younger years.

In the end, the Zags fought through the difficulties West Virginia presented and prevailed, 87-82. Aside from the injury to Suggs, I thought this game was just what the Zags needed. They were tested by a team with great power inside, a team that plays rugged, disruptive basketball, by a team that rarely let the Zags get comfortable in any aspect of their game. 

I think having been tested like this will strengthen the Zags, help them respond better the next time a rough and tough opponent pushes them around and plays as hard as the University of West Virginia Mountaineers.

The Zags will be sternly challenged Saturday, December 5, when they play Baylor (10 a.m. PST, CBS). They will face a very physical, hard-working, and gifted player in Luka Garza when they play Iowa on December 19th. To me, it will be a wonder if the Zags win both of these upcoming games. 

3. I didn't watch another episode of Midnight Diner today, but I so enjoyed seeing Master having boiled a big pot of rice the other night, that I cooked up a quart of dry rice into about four quarts of cooked rice and ate three helpings of this rice topped with Bragg Liquid Aminos and can hardly wait to spread some of this rice in a puddle of olive oil, heat it up, and crack two eggs over it and scramble it all together.  It's the closest I can come, so far, to making something like the delicious rice omelet (without the meat) available at Brails on Fifth in Eugene. I am going to dedicate my mind and imagination and meagre cooking skills to creating a rice omelet -- not a copy of the one at Brails, but one of my own. 

Three Beautiful Things 12-01-20: Goats and Time and Weather, *Midnight Diner*, A Song Especially for Christy and Everett

 1. While I walked down to the building once occupied by Steins, the now shuttered grocery store, to mail our property tax payment, I decided to take a short break from the podcast 1619 and tuned in, instead, to Gravy, a podcast I love that I'd neglected for way too long. Gravy is a production of the Southern Foodways alliance and explores changes in the American South through food. The episode I listened to today featured Duke University professor and photographer named Tom Rankin. He and his wife, writer Jill McCorkle, raise goats. Much of the interview with Rankin centered around the possible future of goats as a food source in the USA. 

Brief interruption: Back in October, 2016, a group of educators from the school district of Prince George's County (Debbie taught in this district) met at a Kenyan restaurant in Beltsville, MD called Swahili Village. I got to tag along as a trailing spouse (!). Our table ordered a bountiful group platter of grilled meats, including grilled goat meat. I loved the gilled goat and loved that meal and that whole evening.

Back to Gravy. 

Tom Rankin didn't only talk about goats, he talked about photography. He quoted a photographer from the 1840s, William Henry Fox Talbot, who described an 1843 image he created as showing "the most evident marks of the injuries of time and weather."

I've done a few photography projects -- the holding hands project and the pictures I took of chairs and sofas and other furniture people put on porches or in their yards -- it was called "Come Have a Sit".

I like the idea of snapping pictures of things that show the marks of the injuries of time and weather. There are plenty of possibilities in and around Kellogg.

2. I'm going to jump to the end of my day and then come back to the early evening.

At some point today on Facebook, thanks to Jay Gorham, I saw a New Yorker review from 2018 of a Netflix series, Midnight Diner. I didn't read the review. I'll wait until I've watched more episodes, but I learned that this series, imported from Japan, is about an Izakaya, a tiny twelve seat diner in Shinjuku, Tokyo. Its hours are 12 midnight to 7 a.m. The diner is operated by one man, Master. On a wall of the Izakaya is a short menu, but Master will prepare any meal by request if he has the ingredients on hand.

Each episode runs about twenty-five minutes. I've watched two so far. 

Keep in mind that I've been reading Jane Hirshfield's essay on Basho, a Japanese master composer of haiku from the 17th century.

The two episodes I've watched of Midnight Diner made me think that these stories are like haiku turned into short dramatic presentations. Like haiku, these individual stories are meditative, paced slowly, spare, minimalist, compressed, focused. Like the haiku, they feature contrasts, the way any one moment in time contains oppositions within it. The haiku is structured to startle the reader. Likewise, these two episodes featured startling turns of events that sprang suddenly into the story, just as an unexpected image or insight does in the haiku.

As an added pleasure, to conclude each episode, one of Master's customers comes into the kitchen and explains how to prepare one of the dishes featured in the story. For me, then, as someone who loves Japanese cuisine (but I have few opportunities to dine on it), Midnight Diner stimulates my yearning to return to a Japanese restaurant or leap into learning to prepare Japanese food at home, assuming I have the ingredients on hand or can readily obtain them. 

(Writing about Japanese food ingredients touches off nostalgic feelings, feelings of love, actually, for Hung Phat Grocery, the Asian market I loved shopping at in Wheaton, MD -- and for the restaurant next door, Thai Taste by Kob -- where I enjoyed several afternoon meals after shopping at Hung Phat.)

3. Earlier in the evening, I tuned into tonight's Tree House Concert performed by Bill Davie. 

Bill overcame neck pain and his hands not always cooperating with one another, because of MS, and gave a stirring concert.

Tonight he played his song,"Raise Your Heart" for Christy and me, in memory of Everett. 

If you'd like to hear Bill's performance from last night, it's up on YouTube.  After a few directions,  I'll post the link to the video of the concert.  

If you'd like to listen to the entire concert, just let the video play.

If you'd like to jump right to "Raise Your Heart", sung in memory of Everett, click on the SHOW MORE under the beginning of the set list and click on the blue 20:38 right by the song title, "Raise Your Heart". This will take you right to the song. 

Once you get there, if you'd like to hear Bill introduce the song, Bill's intro begins at 20:18. If you know how to drag a YouTube video back a bit, take it back to 20:18.

Got it?

OK! 

To go to the video, click right here. 

Endnote: Several listeners in Bill's virtual audience last night were people Bill knew from when he lived in the Methow Valley. While the concert progressed, these Methow Valley friends exchanged comments about their love for the place, expressing special affection for the Twisp River Pub closed since a fire in February 2016 forced its closure. 

I noted in the midst of all this affection for the Methow Valley, after Bill sang "Raise Your Heart", that Everett was born in Twisp on July 3, 1930. Another listener, Holly, posted that her father was also born in Twisp back in 1913. 

Having many paths and much love converge tonight around the history and the memories of Twisp and the Methow Valley greatly enriched tonight's Tree House Concert.  

Three Beautiful Things 11-30-20: Phone Calls and Everett's Obituary, Resting, Pasta and Beans BONUS A Limerick by Stu

1. Christy, Carol, and I met this morning at 7 a.m. at my house. Carol used Christy's phone and I used Everett's to call members of Everett's family, members of our family, and some other people outside the family to tell them that Everett had passed away earlier in the morning. 

Christy and I had spent about an hour starting at one in the morning with Everett after he died. Our neighbor down the street, Tyler, arrived from the funeral home and Christy and he made arrangements for her to go to the funeral home on Monday afternoon. After we made our phone calls, Carol and I talked with Christy about what picture she might include with the obituary. As it turned out, Debbie Mikesell, the funeral home director, also helped Christy decide on a picture and helped fine tune the obituary a bit. 

The local paper published Everett's obituary this afternoon online. It's beautiful, as is the picture of Christy and Everett. If you'd like to see it, just click right here. 

2. After Christy and Carol left, I thought I might fall right back asleep, having only slept about four hours last night. But, I'd enjoyed two cups of coffee this morning and was wide awake. I spent the morning writing about Everett, our day at the hospital, and the thoughts and memories I had while with him and Christy on Sunday. 

I napped a little bit in the afternoon. 

I also watched some very entertaining men's college basketball. Until their game reached halftime, I watched the high flying, pressing, run and shoot St. John's Red Storm streak up and down the floor against Boston College. Then I watched another pressing, streaking, bomb launching team, the Eastern Kentucky Colonels, play Xavier in a nail biter that went into overtime.

Just for the record, here are the final scores:

St. John's defeated Boston College, surviving two furious rallies by the Eagles, 97-93.

In OT, Xavier prevailed over Eastern Kentucky University, 99-96.

3. It's odd. If I just cook up some penne pasta and heat up a can of kidney beans, season the beans with chili powder, garlic powder, and cumin, and combine the beans and pasta in a bowl and pour some parmesan cheese over the top, I've got a meal I find both delicious and comforting. It's a faint replication of Witch's Brew,  one of my favorite hot lunch meals back in the school day and it's a meal that I would never make and serve anyone else. It sure works for me and, this evening, filled me, calmed me, and helped get me ready to hit the hay early and have a long night's sleep -- during which, in case you're wondering, I was a taxi cab driver in New York City and picked up David Letterman who slept in the cab and wouldn't tell me where he wanted to go. I do not know what to make of that! 

Stu wrote a limerick that speaks beautifully to our family's life right now and reaches far beyond us:

If you lose someone close please remember. 

That for them ‘twas the end of December. 

Although they’re gone from your sight, 

Their memory still provides light. 

And in your heart, a bright glowing ember.

Three Beautiful Things 11-29-20: RIP James Everett Jolley, Young for So Long, Christy and Everett Together

1. Christy's husband, James Everett Jolley, died shortly after midnight. He was born on July 3, 1930 and died on November 30, 2020. 

Because Everett's care was being directed by Hospice of North Idaho and because the hospital staff is a bit more lenient on the weekends, Carol, Paul, and I got to spend several hours today with Christy and Everett. When I arrived this morning shortly after 10 a.m.,  Everett knew I was there, could barely speak, and was floating in and out of sleep. When they were done with church, Carol and Paul came to see Everett and I returned home, knowing, at this point, Everett was supposed to be limited to three visitors at a time. 

Carol and Paul sang hymns for Everett and prayed with Christy. Everett could no longer talk. 

Around 3:45 Christy called Carol, Paul, and me and asked us to return to the hospital. By listening to the rhythms and patterns of Everett's breathing, Everett's nurse said that Everett would likely pass away sooner than later. Under these circumstances, no one at the hospital objected to Carol, Paul, Christy, and me all being in his room at the same time. 

Carol and Paul sang more songs for Everett. I sat silently in deep thought and prayer. Everett's nurse and CNA checked in with us regularly. 

At around six o'clock, the night nurse and CNA took over Everett's care. We all waited for the new nurse to come in, met him, and said good by and thank you to the departing nurse and CNA.  Paul, Carol, and I went home, Christy stayed with Everett for another half an hour or so, and then she went home to make sure Riley was all right and to take care of some other things. While home, she was in regular contact with the night nurse and, for most of the evening, his condition didn't change a lot. Shortly after midnight, though, he quietly and peacefully passed from this life to the next. 

2. I thought a lot today about how Everett stayed so young for so long. I was amazed, as I thought back to 2015, when Christy and Everett moved from Martin Creek to Kellogg. It was a two day move and was nearly unbearably hot -- the temperature exceeded 100 degrees on the move's second day. Everett was 85 years old and worked just as hard, if not harder, than the rest of us hauling stuff, loading the U-Haul, and loading the cars and truck. Once Christy and Everett settled into Kellogg, Everett did tons of work around the house and in the garden and yard. He seemed indomitable.

But, over the last couple of years or so, he started to slow down. On October 31st, a month ago, he felt really sick and consented to making a visit to the ER. 

Knowing this, I asked Christy if she was going to request an ambulance. Everett absolutely did not want an ambulance. He said he just needed to gather himself and he'd be able to walk to the car. It took him quite a while to gather himself. I happened to look out my window as Everett, with Christy by his side, consenting to Everett's insistence that he didn't need any help by not touching him, and hobbled to their vehicle.

Everett had been housebound for a while and I hadn't seen him for a spell. I was taken aback by how feeble he looked, how gaunt, by how much he'd aged. He refused to use a cane or a walker as he shambled down the sidewalk.  Even with Christy right by his side, I felt anxiety. Could Everett make it to the vehicle? 

He did make it. Once at the ER, thank goodness, he consented to being taken into the hospital in a wheelchair. 

The contrast between Everett at 85 years of age in 2015 and Everett at 90 on Halloween thirty days ago and today was stark. None of us knew on the afternoon of Oct. 31st what lay ahead, but anyone who saw Everett that day knew that the illnesses he suffered had sapped him of physical strength, but not of his determination to get well again and return home. Over the last ten days or so, though, Everett's strong will began to relent his physical decline and today we witnessed his brave surrender as his life was coming to an end.

3. I also thought about and felt gratitude today for Christy and Everett's marriage. They married each other in August of 1997. From then until they moved to Kellogg in 2015, they lived a country life. They manured silty soil and established numerous flower beds and vegetable gardens. Everett made a gazebo out of a discarded satellite tv dish. Here, they could warm themselves next to a fire. They raised chickens (rabbits, too, I think), took in several dogs and cats over the years, and worked diligently year after year to improve their property.  Living in rural northeast Washington State afforded Christy and Everett many opportunities to get out and marvel at the area's natural splendor, to camp, and to enjoy exploring the area's small towns, the restaurants, second hand stores, and other rural pleasures. Oh! And how could I forget? They became unshakeable fans of the Gonzaga men's basketball team. 

They carried that same spirit of exploration to Kellogg when they moved here, and, when they could, ventured out into the beauty of North Idaho and Western Montana.

We all saw Christy's tireless devotion to Everett's well-being over the last few years as health problems began to plague him more frequently and as Christy stayed at his side as much as possible over the last month while Everett was hospitalized. Before that, Christy did all she could to help Everett eat well, provided him comfort whenever his body hurt, and did countless other things that enhanced the quality of his life and kept him going for so long. 

Everett has always been devoted to Christy. He took great pleasure in their activities together, cared for her when she suffered illness or was hospitalized, and was generous with his listening ear and compassionate understanding.  

Today, I enjoyed meditating on the loving companionship Everett and Christy shared so freely with each other over the course of their twenty-three years of marriage. 

With his sweet disposition, gentle heart, profound work ethic, fun sense of humor, and devotion to goodness, Everett was a huge presence, not only as Christy's husband, but as a member of our family. 

He leaves us with a void that can never be filled. 

Three Beautiful Things 11-28-20: Everett's Day, Music History, Couscous -->Hoops-->Rare Earth BONUS A Limerick by Stu

1. Christy and Everett's nurses work together to manage Everett's pain. They've rearranged Everett's care and pain medication schedule in such a way that Everett is awake and alert more often in the early part of the day, less so in the afternoon and evening. Today, one of Everett's daughters and one his granddaughters got to see Everett. Christy also spent a lot of time with him. Christy came over to see me when her day of visiting Everett ended and discussed a variety of things related to this difficult time.

2. Early in the afternoon, I took off for about a half an hour walk on the trail to the high school and then down the Jacobs Gulch road and back home again. I listened to the third episode of the podcast, 1619, and it was, by far, the least brutal episode of this podcast and fit in nicely with my everlasting quest to understand the history of American music better and how much it's been influenced by African-Americans, from the beginning. The host of this podcast, Nikole Hannah-Jones, turned this entire episode over to Wesley Morris, a podcaster, writer, and social/music critic/historian I have read and listened to quite a bit over the years. His review of American popular music from minstrelsy to the present in this episode was awesome. 

I loved how he started his survey by telling a story about being at home with a friend, chopping vegetables, preparing dinner, and his friend asked him to put the Yacht Rock station on Pandora. The friend had an errand to run. As Morris, alone in his kitchen,  listened to the station featuring music by Michael McDonald, Kenny Loggins, Steely Dan, Toto, and others, he realized how much Yacht Rock, which is a subgenre of primarily white artists, is indebted to Black music, to the blues, jazz, gospel, and other influences. 

It was a brilliant way to kick off his jam-packed history lesson and it fit perfectly with other documentaries I've watched and podcasts I've listened to about American music in a fascinating way. 

It made my walk very enjoyable.

If you'd like to check out this episode, just click here. 

3. As dinner time approached, I stood in front of the opened refrigerator and imagined just what I might fix myself. I looked at the container of left over couscous and I thought, hmmm, salad. I put the couscous in a bowl, added raisins, chopped up a cucumber, and chopped up an apple - this was becoming promising.  I took out my plain yogurt, put some in a bowl, and made a dressing by adding cumin, honey, and cayenne pepper to the yogurt. I confess, I overdid the honey a bit, but no big deal, the yogurt dressing was great with the couscous, raisins, cucumber, and apple. I'll keep experimenting with this -- maybe get some help from recipes. I love rice salads and couscous salads so I'm very happy with the prospects that lie ahead.

As with so many aspects of life during the pandemic, college basketball is in some turmoil with different teams having to pull out of games because players or staff have test positive for Covid-19. Sometimes teams don't know who'll they'll play next until a day or two before the game happens. 

It's kind of like the way things work in the NCAA tournament.

For example, Villanova is in the bubble that's been created at the Mohegan Sun Casino Complex in Connecticut. They played games on Wednesday and Thursday and suddenly got offered a chance to play again on Saturday against Virginia Tech because their scheduled opponent, Temple, had to pull out.

Villanova entered the game ranked third in the nation. Virginia Tech entered the game unranked. 

Villanova seemed off their game, but they went up 52-40 with just under nine minutes to play. I thought Villanova would do what they often do, methodically and competently stretch this lead, but they didn't.

Virginia Tech chipped away. Late in the game Villanova missed crucial free throws and it looked like the Hokies had the game won until a freak play after the Hokies accidentally made a free throw resulted in a foul against VT. Justin Moore buried two free throws and game went into overtime.

Virginia Tech outscored the Wildcats 17-9 in OT, securing the upset. 

I switched gears after this game ended. I was watching a trailer of the movie, Serpico. In the trailer, a bit of Rod Stewart's version of the song "(I Know) I'm Losing You" was played and I immediately headed to YouTube and listened to a live extended version of the song played by the Faces, featuring Rod Stewart, Ronnie Woods, and others. Then I listened to Stewart's album version from Every Picture Tells a Story. 

I hadn't had enough. I love Rare Earth. I knew they played unreal extended versions of "(I Know) I'm Losing You" and I listened to one of them.  All three versions were great and transported me back to how I used to play this song in my head over and over again while pulling cathodes, stripping zinc, and stacking zinc back in the Zinc Plant cell room. It was, I guess, a way of helping me endure the toxic work I was doing. 

Here's a limerick by Stu:

You start with a courteous bow.  

Follow “Caller” as best you know how. 

Taking hands left and right, 

Keep your partner in sight. 

Back together when calls do allow. 

National Square Dance Day.

Three Beautiful Things 11-27-20: Everett Update, Zags Waltz, *Reconstruction*

1. Everett was alert more often today than yesterday.  Christy spent much of the day with him. He slept quite a bit, but, when he was awake, he was pretty comfortable and was clear headed. He and Christy had conversations.  Everett made it clear how much he enjoys Christy's company and appreciates her devotion to his comfort.  I can't emphasize enough how good it is that Everett is in Kellogg, Christy is so close by, and that she is allowed to spend so much time with him. 

2.  Gonzaga's game with Auburn, played at Fort Meyers, FL,  featured an 8 a.m. (PST) tipoff. Auburn is a young team with a lot of talent, but raw. The more experienced Zags had little trouble establishing themselves as the superior team, weathered Auburn's barrage of three point shots, and waltzed to a 90-67 victory. Auburn had no answer for Drew Timme who scored 28 points nor for Corey Kisbert who knocked down 25. 

3. I fixed myself a couscous, spinach, green bean, and salmon bowl for dinner and, early in the evening, and I watched the last two hours of the PBS documentary series, Reconstruction. At the same time that Reconstruction was sobering and terrifying, especially its chronicling of the history of terrorism and lynching, it was inspiring to see Black leaders confront the cruelty, confront the awful insistence that, as Black people, African-Americans were, by nature, inferior and created by God to be subservient to white people. Intellectuals, artists, and especially photographers countered the white propaganda depicting Black people as stupid, lazy, savage, bumbling, ill-formed, and predatory (climaxed in the movie Birth of a Nation) with photographic images, essays, stories, poems, publications, original music, and other forms of expression that countered the propaganda and emphasized the dignity and intellectual and artistic abilities of African-Americans. 

Three Beautiful Things 11-26-20: Prayers Devotions Talking, Superb Thanksgiving Dinner, College BB Roundup

1.  Christy spent much of the day with Everett today. They spent time in the morning talking, praying, and sharing devotions written by Billy Graham. Everett asked about Riley. Later in the day, Paul brought Riley by Everett's window. Everett smiled. At lunchtime, a staff member served Christy and Everett a turkey dinner for Thanksgiving. For Everett, it was a restful day. 

2. As planned, a plan I was completely at peace with, I spent Thanksgiving Day by myself today. I have done this in the past, even in times of sound public health. I was happy to play it safe, enjoy friends and family through online communications, and do some things here at home I enjoy, like drinking a delicious Double IPA from Great Notion Brewing, Sub Harmonics. These days, I rarely drink beer or any other alcohol when I'm home alone. I enjoy beer and cocktails a lot more when I'm in others' company, in person or on Zoom/Facebook Live. Today, I made an exception and enjoyed the juiciness and perfect bitterness of this beer a lot.

Carol, Paul, Zoe, and Jason delivered me (and Christy next door) a turkey dinner: turkey slices, oyster cornbread dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, orange candied sweet potatoes, homemade rolls, homemade cranberry apple butter, and a relish tray. 

As I served myself dinner out of the containers Carol and the others so lovingly packed my food in, I realized the gravy was the part of this dinner I had the highest hopes for.  For me, this meal would be as good as the gravy, the gravy I planned to pour over the mashed potatoes, turkey pieces, and dressing. I dipped a spoon into the turkey gravy to test it. I nearly wept. The gravy was perfect: meaty, smooth, just salty enough, and beautifully seasoned. I prepared my plate and dug in, with my next focus directed to the cornbread oyster dressing. It was a briny joy, rich, flavorful, like nothing I'd ever tasted before, especially on Thanksgiving. I love "regular" dressing, but I was mildly euphoric as I experienced the surprise and uniqueness of this dressing and the way the cornbread and oysters complemented (and complimented) each other. My turkey was moist, the sweet potatoes were mildly sweet and I loved the presence of the orange, and I poured a small puddle of cranberry apple butter on my plate and dipped my rolls into my tiny, tasty pool. I had a bottle of opened Sauvignon Blanc, left over from an earlier family dinner, and poured myself a small glass of it. 

This generous delivery also included three slices of pie: pecan, pumpkin, and apple.

After finishing my rich and mouthwatering turkey dinner, my aged digestive system begged me to pass on the pie tonight. I obeyed. My reward will be pie on Friday and, I'll bet, on into Saturday, too.

3. So, in writing this blog post, I saved writing about how I spent much of my day watching men's college basketball for my BT #3. 

I know not everyone who reads this blog is crazy about sports (no problem) and so I thought I'd provide, to use a metaphor I see and hear all the time in news reporting, an exit ramp for some of you to pull off this freeway and find your way back to however you are spending your day after Thanksgiving.

For those of you hanging around to continue reading, I loved watching two games in particular, Gonzaga vrs Kansas and Villanova vrs Arizona State.

I'll get to those games in a little while.

First, though, while I was waiting for the Villanova/ASU tilt, I rewatched an ESPN documentary that was being shown on the ACC Network entitled, The Class That Saved Coach K. I can understand how any of you know me might be surprised that I watched this documentary for the second time because you might know that I'm not a Duke basketball fan. Yes, I admire Coach K and his program, but I almost always pull for their opponents.

But, things at Duke were rocky for Coach K in the beginning. Two of his first three teams finished with losing records, including the 1982-83 team that featuring prize recruits Jay Bilas, Mark Alarie, Johnny Dawkins, and David Henderson, among others.

I'll digress for a moment. When I was a college basketball fan in my youth, most players in college didn't  enter the NBA Draft until they'd completed their college eligibility. There were exceptions, but one of the great pleasures, for me, in watching college basketball in the 1970s and 1980s was not only watching players mature from their freshman or sophomore to their senior year, but to see rivalries intensify between players of the same class on competing teams. 

I bring this up because one of the things I enjoy about The Class That Saved Coach K is that the great recruiting class Coach K brought to Duke in 1982 had a lousy first season as freshmen, going 11-17. It's hard to imagine now, given Coach K's illustrious career, that in his early years at Duke, powerful donors and Blue Devil boosters were calling for Duke to fire and replace Mike Krzyzewski. Duke didn't. Gradually, Duke improved and, by the time Bilas, Alarie, Dawkins, and Henderson were seniors, they played for the NCAA title in 1986 (a game they lost, to my delight, to Louisville). 

In this documentary, I loved watching these players talk about growing up together and enjoyed listening to them talk about the pains they suffered from their freshman to senior seasons. 

In college basketball today, it's common for elite players to play their freshman season (the NBA mandates that U.S. players cannot be drafted until a year has passed since their high school graduation) and then leave school and turn professional. Philosophically, I have no problem with this; as a fan of college basketball, though, I'd love to see more of these players play longer in college. Now, that said, some less than elite, but superb, players play four years, and we fans get to see them develop from being boyish freshmen to becoming stronger, more mature seniors.

Three such players played today, and, I'd argue so did a fourth: Gonzaga's Corey Kisbert, Villanova's Collin Gillespie, and ASU's Remy Martin are all seniors and the Zags' Joel Ayayi is a redshirt junior -- this is his fourth year in Gonzaga's program.

Among other pleasures these two games gave me, I loved watching Kisbert, Gillespie, and Ayayi. Physically, they've all matured and time after time I noted the way they made smart plays based on their experience and savvy. Ayayi is the quietest of the three players. Although he doesn't have the ball in his hands as much as Kisbert or Gillespie, Ayayi makes great decisions, especially in the open court, and is a stout defender.

It was a bad Thanksgiving for Remy Martin. I've never seen him have such a tough game. It was a testament to Villanova's game plan defending him. Villanova crowded him, put bigger, agile defenders on him as often as possible, and made it nearly impossible for Remy Martin to get his game going.  He only scored five points. 

In fact, Villanova played just the way those of us who follow this team have become accustomed to. I might be nuts, but the more I watch Villanova, the more I'm reminded of the UCLA teams coached by John Wooden. It's not so much that they run similar offenses (Wooden's teams didn't have the three point shot available, for one thing) or similar defenses, per se, but it's the attention to fundamentals. The Villanova players are always in position when they receive the ball on offense, balanced, ready to shoot. The Villanova players play within themselves, almost always limit their efforts to what they can do well. Wild shots are rare. They are always aware of where their teammates are and not only look for well-chosen shots, but they are always looking for a teammate who might have a better shot. 

Point guard Collin Gillespie runs their offense, sometimes in an unusual way, backing his defender into the paint, sometimes scoring from near the iron and other times making passes as if he were a low post player, not a point guard. At the same time, their offensive production comes largely from sophomore forward, Jeremiah Robinson-Earl, a player who has matured remarkably from his freshman year to now He has a dead-eye jumper from 15-17 feet out from the middle of the floor, makes imaginative, fluid, and productive moves inside, and can, on occasion, bury a three-pointer. 

Much of Robinson-Earl's success is related to how Villanova is so adept at scoring from beyond the three point arc. Their opponents' defenses get stretched and if they dare double team Robinson-Earl, he is skilled at finding his unguarded teammates. 

Villanova is not a boring team, but they aren't flashy either. They are consistently competent. They rarely beat themselves; they are patient and often wait until deep into the shot clock to shoot;  often this patience pays off with high percentage shots - whether open three pointers, drives to the basket, or a Robinson-Earl midrange jump shot.

Ultimately, Villanova's consistency and sound fundamental basketball wore down ASU. ASU would have liked to have played at a faster pace, but it's hard to rush Villanova. In addition, Villanova is a great rebounding team and when ASU missed shots, they rarely snared an offensive board. Villanova, time after time, had those errant shots covered and ate them up. 

Similarly, Gonzaga is a fundamentally sound, unselfish team. Much like Jeremiah Robinson-Earl, the Zags' sophomore Drew Timme has developed his immense skills impressively since his freshman year. As I watch him, I wonder if, in a good way, he feels liberated, freer to operate with Filip Petrusev having moved on. One reason, of course, is that he's no longer a backup to Petrusev. But, last year, when Petrusev and Timme were on the floor together, Petrusev was the alpha player and he took up space -- with Petrusev having gone to Europe as a professional, Timme is the alpha player inside and doesn't have to share that real estate with anyone. Timme has very impressive footwork, a variety of shots, including the occasional outside jumper, and makes great use of the backboard on several of his shots. (I love to see players make bank shots!)

Complimenting and complementing Timme inside is Corey Kisbert outside.  Kisbert, who looks about five years older than a year ago and has become much stronger, especially in the upper body, is establishing that not only is he a three point threat, he can also drive aggressively to the hoop and finish. Timme and Kisbert both benefit greatly from the play of freshman point guard Jalen Suggs who, in his first two games, has established himself as a great ball handler, a wily and physical defender, a fearless driver to the tin, and an accomplished outside shooter. 

I think I'll write more about Anton Watson and return to Joel Ayayi in a future blog post. Watson's contributions are the quietest of the starting five, but I've seen plenty that I like in his contributions and I like the way he looks older and stronger than he did as a freshman. 

I forgot to post the scores. 

Gonzaga defeated Kansas, 102-90.

Villanova defeated Arizona State, 83-74. 

Three Beautiful Things 11-25-20: Afternoon Discussion, Kitchen Action, Villanova Prevails

1. Christy, Carol, and I met again this afternoon. Everett and Christy had conversation this morning. By the afternoon, Everett was sleeping comfortably. Christy will go to the hospital in the morning. She's hoping to watch the Zags/Kansas basketball game and to have the Thanksgiving dinner the hospital serves its patients around lunch time. 

2. Riley and I had a good morning and early afternoon together before Paul came by and took Riley for a run. Riley stayed over at Carol and Paul's until Christy, Carol, and I finished our afternoon discussion. I cleaned up the kitchen and packed a bag with the cornbread I made for the turkey stuffing for Carol and Paul and some food containers for Christy's and my Thanksgiving dinner (to be delivered). Then I made myself a tasty pasta bowl for dinner, retiring to the Vizio room. 

3. I missed a lot of college basketball action today, but early this evening I watched Villanova play Boston College. Boston College played Villanova tough for about thirty-four of the game's forty minutes with some sharp shooting, aggressive drives to the tin, and energetic defense. But, the Eagles couldn't sustain forty minutes of splendid play. Villanova patiently and methodically grinded away, came from behind, and, in Villanova fashion, by playing sound fundamental basketball and never showing any signs of panic, prevailed, 76-67. Villanova's team is stocked with experienced players; two of them, Collin Gillespie and Jeremiah Robinson-Earl, are All-American caliber ballers. I am excited to see how the other teams in the Big East will match up against them once conference play begins.  Villanova will play Arizona State, led by another All-American player, Remy Martin. I'm eager to watch these two teams play, if I can, at 6:30 on Thanksgiving Day. 

* Yesterday I wrote that Jim Page performed from his house, but I couldn't remember the name of the den he performs in -- now I know: it's the Bobcat Den. 

Three Beautiful Things 11-24-20: Siblings Meeting, Riley, Jim Page and Bill Davie Perform Together

1. Christy, Carol, and I met at my house this afternoon and talked about where things are at with Everett, and, in turn, with Christy. We'll get together again at my house on Wednesday, the 25th. Christy was, today, and will be on Wednesday, in conversation with different people at the hospital, discussing Everett's condition, care, where he's made some progress, where not, and how to proceed. I might have more to report in my blog tomorrow. For now, suffice it to say that Everett and Christy talk together (even share the occasional latte) and he is spending some time out of bed sitting up in a wheelchair. I'll just add how happy I am that Christy is retired and has the time to spend many hours with Everett. Her encouragement and good company is a constant boost to Everett's spirits and he deeply appreciates all Christy is doing for him.

2. Riley is doing well, especially given all the activity happening around him. When Everett was in CdA and Riley stayed with me, it took him from 30 to 60 minutes to stop pacing, howling, and crying. Now he's restless when he first arrives in the living room, goes right to the window to watch Christy leave, and, once she's out of sight, he settles right down. Today, as he often does, Paul took Riley for a run. Riley stayed at Carol and Paul's during our family meeting. 

He's been a really good dog -- my impression over the years is that dogs thrive on regularity, things being as predictable as possible, and Riley has hung in there really well with Christy being gone during the day, going between my house and Carol and Paul's, and not having his life be quite as predictable as usual.

3. I poured myself a hot buttered rum, adding brown sugar, vanilla extract, cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, and a little bit of Ghirardelli hot chocolate powder to the rum, hot water, and butter in my mug, and settled in for this week's Tree House Concert. Tonight, Bill Davie invited Jim Page to share the concert with him. Jim was at home, in the space he calls the something den, but I can't remember the name as I write this, and Bill was also at home in the Tree House. 

I've been listening to Jim Page for nearly at least thirty years -- he's been making music a lot longer than that. I'm not sure what words I would have used in the past to describe him outside of his being a genius song writer and a powerful performer. Tonight, I experienced Jim Page as soulful. His songs, as always were copious explorations of all regions of the soul, his, ours, and the collective soul. Jim's soulfulness, his quiet playing and singing, the power and range of his lyrics moved me. 

Bill also sang soulful songs tonight -- no surrealism, no razor blades raining down on Tacoma, no Micronesian bullets -- tonight he took us to the Puget Sound, to a rough patch as a father to his son, to the memory of his father, and other sources of deep feeling and experience.

Jim and Bill have been corresponding for a year and half or so in verse, following the path of Ted Kooser and Jim Harrison and their book, Braided Creek: A Conversation in Poetry. 

I've been working my way, joyfully, through Jane Hirshfield's essay, "Seeing through Words: An Introduction to Basho, Haiku, and the Suppleness of Image". In writing a history of the haiku, Hirshfield spends some time writing about renga, a Japanese form of collaborative verse. The renga is a highly structured form of collaborative poetry in which poets build upon one another's verses, sending the developing poem back and forth.

Bill and Jim read a generous chunk of their correspondence in verse tonight. I experienced it as in the spirit of renga -- Bill and Jim's poems are in free verse; they aren't formal-- and loved listening to how they drew upon one another's poems and then left doors open for the the other to walk out of (or into) and develop another concept, insight, image cluster, memory, or idea. I am especially happy that I got to hear these poems. While I think they would be great to read silently or out loud to myself, they became animated works, living and breathing, as Bill and Jim gave them voice. 

What a superb two hours of songs and poems, a concert given by two friends who have been performing together, from time to time, for nearly thirty-five years and, even though they were in different rooms in different houses, conveyed their love for each other and their joy in performing together as powerfully as if they'd been side by side on a stage. 

Three Beautiful Things 11-23-20: Slow Process, Essays on Poetry, The Second Hour of *Reconstruction*

1. Rehab and recovery for Everett is a slow undertaking. Christy spent a lot of time with Everett today and reports some signs of gradual improvement in his blood work and in some of his physical movements. I think the best we can all hope for right now is that these slow improvements and Everett's overall stability continue.  

Riley stayed with me today. Early in the afternoon, Paul dropped by to take Riley for a run and they visited Everett's window at the hospital. I have to believe seeing Riley has got to be a boost to Everett's morale - Christy's pictures of these visits are a boost to mine! 

2. I ordered about half a dozen or so books from independent booksellers a while back through bookstore.org and biblio.com and a couple others through betterworldbooks.com. Another one arrived today: Jane Hirshfield's Ten Windows: How Great Poems Transform the World. I'm bouncing around these days between reading history, watching history documentaries, and reading poetry and writings about poetry. The history material is brutal and reading poems and poetics gives my mind a rest from the harsh realities of Reconstruction and, my second current interest, the USA's expansion into lands west of the Mississippi.

The Hirshfield book is a series of essays, some of them lectures she's given, and I started with her piece, "What is American in Modern American Poetry?". I thoroughly enjoyed her survey of American poets breaking free of British and European forms and idioms and writing poems that have an American voice and that forge a national identity apart from the traditions of Europe. I love reading lines by and comments about Walt Whitman. I am always eager and hungry to learn more about Emily Dickinson's poetry and Jane Hirshfield helped me do that today. I enjoyed how, as she looked at some developments in 20th century poetry she highlighted the Imagists, the New York School of poetry, the Beats, experiments in expressionist poetry, and the work of the Confessional poets as she worked to give readers a sense of the many invigorating paths American poetry has travelled since Walt Whitman's breakthroughs in the 19th century. 

I'm still waiting for one more book, a book I used to love teaching from, entitled, The Essential Haiku: Versions of Basho, Buson, and Issa, edited by Robert Hass. Bill Moyers, in one of his poetry series, introduced me to Robert Hass and his devotion to translating and discussing the haiku. Hass delighted me and set my mind afire at the same time and I am eager to have his book back in the house again.

In preparation for its arrival, I read much of Jane Hirshfield's essay (in Ten Windows) on Basho, which is also an essay on the development of the haiku tradition in Japan and the immense contributions Basho made to this form of poetry. I'm stoked to be back into this style of poetry again after several years of being away.

3. For an hour or so this evening, I took a break from Jane Hirshfield and watched the second hour of the four hour PBS documentary series, Reconstruction. It was painful. During early years of Reconstruction, aided by the intervention of the federal government, conditions for the recently enslaved people improved economically, politically, and educationally. It wasn't long, though, before the backlash violently opposing Reconstruction asserted itself, primarily in the form of the Klu Klux Klan and other similar terrorists groups, and white people resentful of equality for these newly freed people went on the attack. The federal intervention weakened; laws written to protect Black people were not enforced; the violent and cruel campaigns to return the South to something more like the pre-Civil War conditions of white supremacy gained momentum and succeeded. 

My impression is that the two hours of viewing that lie ahead will explore the development of Jim Crow.