Thursday, January 16, 2025

Truth is stranger than fiction

What I am about to tell you is true. Or was at the time, as best I remember it. I looked at Google's aerial map of Arlington, Texas, just now and what I'm about to tell you doesn't appear to be true nowadays. Street names have been changed, some streets no longer exist, new streets have been added, and the whole area has been reconfigured due to Arlington's growth. But it was true when I experienced it, so I will forge ahead with this post.

I attended Arlington State College (ASC) in 1959-1960, the year it changed from a two-year junior-college institution to a four-year senior-college institution. It was part of the Texas A&M University system, an arch-rival of the University of Texas (UT) in Austin. So it seems odd that ASC was later absorbed into the University of Texas system and became the University of Texas at Arlington (UTA) just as Texas Western University in El Paso became the University of Texas at El Paso (UTEP) and several other schools underwent the same transformation, which is neither here nor there. Well, actually one is here and one is there. I don't want to go down this rabbit trail further.

Downtown Arlington in those days was centered on a town square. It was so long ago (65 years, God help us all) that I cannot remember whether the square held a park or the city hall building. You would think that I would remember a detail like that, but I don't because we mostly stayed on or near campus except to splurge occasionally and eat at a restaurant. That's not important. What is important and what I'm trying to get to as fast as I can (not fast enough, I can hear some of you saying) is the scheme Arlington used for the naming of streets. It was very confusing, at least to me.

The street along the north side of the square was called North Street, the street along the east side of the square was called East Street, the street along the south side of the square was called South Street, and the street along the west side of the square was called West Street. So far so good. No problem, you say. I continue.

If you think about it, you will probably realize (British, realise) that North Street was an east-west thoroughfare, East Street was a north-south thoroughfare, South Street was an east-west thoroughfare, and West Street was another north-south thoroughfare. Things get interesting from there. I will use abbreviations from here on because that's what was on the green and white street signs at corners throughout the city.

The city planners in their wisdom extended these streets so that in addition to the one-block long North Street there was an E. North Street running eastward and a W. North Street running westward. Using all of the gray matter available to you, you can guess that there might be (and there was) a N. East Street and a S. East Street running northward and southward respectively from the one-block long East Street, an E. South Street and a W. South Street running eastward and westward respectively from the one-block long South Street, and a N. West Street and a S. West Street running northward and southward respectively from the one-block long West Street. Thus the whole city of Arlington was divided into four quadrants (how many quadrants were you expecting?). I found four particular intersections particularly mind-blowing:

  • The intersection of E. North and N. East
  • The intersection of W. North and N. West
  • The intersection of E. South and S. East
  • The intersection of W. South and S. West

and trying to give directions to people became problematic at times and even downright silly.

In closing, I also need to tell you that Mrs. Ella Willis, the staunch Baptist landlady of the boarding house I chose to live in instead of a dormitory, attended a big Baptist church on the west side of town, and some of my friends attended another big Baptist church on the east side of town. Interestingingly enough, and this is also absolutely true, the pastor of the Baptist church on the west side of town was named Reverend East and the pastor of the Baptist church on the east side of town was named Reverend West.

I swear or affirm that all of the foregoing is true, so help me God.

This post makes one thing perfectly clear.

It is a slow blogging day in Canton, Georgia.

Friday, January 10, 2025

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Just what you've been waiting for, a weather report from north Georgia.

Yesterday our specific part of north Georgia experienced the coldest morning of the season so far, 17°F (-8.3°C). This morning, the first significant snow (translation: other than a trace or a few flurries) in five years has been falling. It is, to coin a phrase, a winter wonderland. Local children are ecstatic because all of the schools are closed. Many members of the workforce are ecstatic as well because their places of employment are also closed.

This circumstance contributes to the northern states' continued feelings of superiority over the southern states. If the people of the midwest (Chicago, Detroit, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, etc.) and the northeast (New York, Philadelphia, Buffalo, Boston, etc.) stayed home every time a little snow fell, no work would take place for months on end.

In other news, I have now completed and submitted to Storyworth my responses to the first two of their 52 questions. So far it is a lot of fun as well as a lot of work.

If you have a lot of time on your hands -- maybe you're snowed in and can't get out and about -- take a look at this list of 25 Of the Most Inspiring Books Everyone Should Read that popped up on my computer today. Sad to say, I have read only one of the 25, The Count Of Monte Cristo, #16. How many have you read, or even heard of?

I have concluded that with every passing day I am more and more out of touch with what is going on in the world. It is a startling revelation, to say the least.

Saturday, January 4, 2025

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day

...to the last syllable of recorded time. A man named William Shakespeare wrote that more than 400 years ago and put it into the mouth of Macbeth, who was thane of Glamis and thane of Cawdor if memory serves. The entire speech is rather depressing, a real downer. The whole play is not exactly a comedy either.

Fast away the old year may indeed have passed, but the new year (2025, if I'm not mistaken) is getting off to a slow start, postwise. It's already January 4th and I haven't written a single thing. Well, I did put a grocery list together, but I don't think that counts.

The young'uns tied the knot on New Year's Eve right on schedule and headed off to Florida the next day. Now that the hoopla has died down, nothing suitable for blogging has presented itself. I refuse to blog about terrorist attacks in New Orleans or cybertruck explosions in Las Vegas or behind-the-scenes arm-twisting that made an almost failed election of a Speaker of the House of Representatives into a rousing victory for truth, justice, and the American way.

Yesterday our younger son brought over a pot of homemade soup for us that contained chicken, kielbasa, carrots, onions, celery, collard greens, and as Andy Griffith used to say, I don't know what all. It turned out to be delicious!

I will have even less time to compose blogposts this year because of the gift I received from our older son at Christmas. He gave me a one-year subscription to Storyworth. I will receive an email asking me a question every week for the next 52 weeks; I am to write a story from my life in response to the question and email it back to Storyworth. At the end of the year, a book containing all of my responses will be created. I am looking fowatd to doing this but am also a bit intimidated.

I think I am afraid it will be a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Saturday, December 28, 2024

Fast away the old year passes

(Fa la la la la, la la la la)

Hail the new, ye lads and lasses

(Fa la la la la, la la la la)

but before you do, before 2024 recedes into history and disappears forever, before some people bid it a fond farewell and others bid good riddance to bad rubbish, before 2025 arrives in all its bright (though probably false) prospects of better things ahead, a very important event remains on our family's social calendar.

I'm not referring to our after-Christmas Christmas get-together. That event will take place tomorrow, Sunday, December 29th. The event I'm talking about will occur on Tuesday, December 31st. It is the wedding of our last unmarried grandson and his fiancée. They chose that date for their wedding because it was on New Year's Eve four years ago that they met.

It was actually their second choice. They originally planned to be married in October in Pinellas County, Florida, but hurricanes Helene and Milton ruined their plans.

It just occurred to me that by marrying on the last day of the year, they will receive the tax advantages of being a married couple for the entire year if they file a joint income tax return for 2024.

I wonder whether it has occurred to them.

I'll end this post with a poem I wrote more than 40 years ago:

On Viewing a Medieval Bridal Chamber

Half a morning’s measure,
.....Stripped of veil and train,
Here, in languid leisure,
.....Maids with men have lain,
Off’ring up their treasure,
.....Off’ring sweat and stain,
Little gasps of pleasure,
.....Little cries of pain.

In their sweet uncladness,
.....Still all lovers cling,
Thinking, in their madness,
.....Lusty flesh is king;
What now gives them gladness
.....All too soon shall bring
Little sighs of sadness,
.....Little tears that sting.

(end of poem)

Life, being unpredictable, has many twists and turns, and no one knows what the future mat bring. I wish the new couple every happiness and only the very best life has to offer as they walk together into the future.

Thursday, December 26, 2024

Christmas songs I wish had never been written

...include, in no particular order:

"Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer"
"I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas"
"Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Reindeer"
"All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth"
"Little Drummer Boy"
"Frosty The Snowman"
"Jingle Bell Rock"

Mrs. RWP's least-favorite song of the Christmas season is "I'll Be Home For Christmas" as she finds the last line ("if only in my dreams") very sad. For many people, this is definitely not the most wonderful time of the year.

In the UK, today is Boxing Day. In liturgical church circles it is also St. Stephen's Day, which should have us all hummng "Good King Wenceslas looked out on the Feast of Stephen...".

This year our family get-together during the holidays will not occur until December 29th. I'm looking forward to it immensely and keep telling myself the important thing is that we are getting together, not when we are getting together. All but one of our clan can make it on that day. One of our granddaughters-in-law, a nurse, has to work at the hospital that day. She will be missed. The other 21 members of our clan should be there though, including the latest additions, our three great-grandsons (4 months, 10 months, and 17 months).

I wish Christmas could last all year long, especially the "peace on earth, good will to men" part. I am suddenly reminded that in C.S. Lewis's fictional land of Narnia it was always winter but never Christmas.

Talk about sad.

Wednesday, December 25, 2024

My second favorite Christmas poem

...is "In the Bleak Midwinter" by Christina Rossetti (1830-1894). She wrote it in 1872:

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty,
Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.

Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air,
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.

What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb
, If I were a wise man
I would do my part,
Yet what I can I give Him,
Give my heart.

(end of poem)

According to Wikipedia, the poem has been set to music several times. Two settings, those by Gustav Holst and by Harold Darke, are popular and often sung as Christmas carols. Holst's is a hymn tune called Cranham, published in 1906 in The English Hymnal and simple enough to be sung by a congregation. Darke's is an anthem composed in 1909 and intended for a trained choir. In a 2008 poll of leading choirmasters and choral experts, Darke's version was named the best Christmas carol ever written.

Do yourself a favor; find both versions on YouTube and listen to them. I recommend Gloucester Cathedral choir for Holst's version and Kings College Cambridge choir for Darke's version. You'll be glad you did.

Tuesday, December 24, 2024

My favorite Christmas poem

...is by the English writer Thomas Hardy (1840-1928), the same Thomas Hardy who gave us such novels as The Return of the Native, Tess of the D'Urbervilles, Jude the Obscure, The Mayor of Casterbridge, and Far From the Madding Crowd. Please note that I still use the Oxford comma and I probably always will. The poem is entitled "The Oxen":

The Oxen

Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.
“Now they are all on their knees,”
An elder said as we sat in a flock
By the embers in hearthside ease.

We pictured the meek mild creatures where
They dwelt in their strawy pen,
Nor did it occur to one of us there
To doubt they were kneeling then.

So fair a fancy few would weave
In these years! Yet, I feel,
If someone said on Christmas Eve,
“Come; see the oxen kneel,

“In the lonely barton by yonder coomb
Our childhood used to know,”
I should go with him in the gloom,
Hoping it might be so.

(end of poem)

You can have Clement Clark Moore and his "A Visit From Saint Nicholas". I'll take Thomas Hardy's poem every time Christmas Eve rolls around.

<b>Truth is stranger than fiction</b>

What I am about to tell you is true. Or was at the time, as best I remember it. I looked at Google's aerial map of Arlington, Texas, ...