Weather has been a rollercoaster … one day clear skies and temperatures in the 70s and the very next day overcast skies and temps in the 50s.
And for days most needed rain with snow was welcomed.
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Last saturday the weekly opera on NPR was Turandot. It is rather an understatement to say it is not my favorite opera although some of the music is lovely.
Somehow I have trouble getting past the shallowness of the “hero” when he chooses the money and prestige of marriage with the vain and shallow Princess over the devotion and loyalty of the servant/slave who has been devotedly caring for his father.
Much like the cultural callousness of Lt. Pinkerton.
Maybe Puccini had a thing for hapless, mistreated females and callous, stupid males?
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All the news concerning Putin’s aggressive destruction in Ukraine reminds me of an event organized in my school by a teacher named Chase Dane who once told us he planned on naming his firstborn Mun.
But I’ve wandered a bit away from the point I started to make … that the wanton destruction Putin is inflicting on Mariupol and other cities in Ukraine is a tearful reminder of the complete destruction of Lidice in Bohemia in the then county of Czechoslovakia.
I guess I remember it so clearly because my essay titled “Lidice – Never Again” won the writing assignment and got me an A.
So much for trusting in the essential goodness of people, even in people who support dictators.
Never heard of Lidice? Probably because it happened 80 years ago and hasn’t been taught as part of the history of Hitler’s atrocities. Look it up.
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I remember hearing once that in a room containing more than about 15 or 20 people, at least two will have the same birthday. I was born on my mother’s cousin’s 22nd birthday anniversary, the woman I knew as Aunt Roberta.
I also share it with the wonderful teacher who cared for my youngest in the third and fourth grades, Ginger Mattos. She recognized his troublemaking was the result of boredom since he nearly always completed any class assignment before the rest of the class.and was left with nothing further to do. She moved him to a desk near her and when he got restless, she would hand him another challenge.
I had a similar teacher/Vice Principal, named Faris Edgar, who when I was in high school once called me into the office. I anticipated at least a talking to if not a reprimand for something. Instead he gave me an assignment.
Every day, during study hall time I was to report to his office and he would give me a problem to solve and report the solution back to him.
It was often a quote from a book/author, a line from a book, poem or song, and one which I remember to this day over 70 years later was a weird drawing which I had to identify and report what it was and what its use was.
I still remember many of the problems/solutions. Among them are …
“Divinely tall and most divinely fair”
A spring poem about rain written by a French king (which Mr. Edgar said “You will enjoy this once you translate it.”)
“She walks in beauty like the night”
He didn’t actually teach me names, dates. etc. What he taught me was how to learn.
I later used his techniques with my sons. When they would come to me with a question my first response would be “Where do you think you will find the answer.?”
They wouldn’t always be happy with my question, but they all learned to be thinkers.
My high school class held several class reunions. I think our 25th was the final reunion I attended. I found I didn’t need to spend time with all those old people and later wrote a poem about it.
But back to my story …
However at one of those reunions a booklet was created with pictures, names (including married names), and addresses. Among those addresses was one for my teacher. Needless to say, I felt a need to make contact and wrote to him to thank him for the attention and lessons. As a result, we corresponded until his death.
Now back to Mrs. Mattos. She is mostly lost to Alzheimer’s but it will be her 89th birthday, which will be my 92nd, and her daughter is giving her a meet-and-greet. Those of us who remember her will be there and chat memories. Maybe one or two memories will trigger a memory for her too.
The one which I will remember, which I hope will trigger a memory, is of the year my youngest didn’t have the money to buy a birthday gift for each of us, so he bought a pair of ear studs (flying birds) and gave one to me and the other to his teacher.
I know where mine is and plan to wear it to the party.
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But enough about the past. On to reminders …
Not all wounds are visible … Walk softly.
… Ray Bradbury
There is a final song. A song of endings. It is a song of giving thanks. It’s not sad. It simply is. It is simply seeing beyond … bidding farewell to the past and welcoming the path ahead.
… B.B.Griffith
So,‘til next week …