solstice 1996

Solstice, 1996


Dear All, again,

I just did this, didn’t I? No fair, time is moving too fast. Time out! Take it over...What? No “take-overs”?? You’re no fun. I ain’t playing anymore.

Well, the horrible truth is that nothing much has changed but the last number on the year. I am still not a licensed pilot, still haven’t written the great American novel, still haven’t gotten anything done around the house, still haven’t hired a partner to get myself some free time, still haven’t mustered up the guts to chuck it all and sail off with the family, still haven’t figured out where my hair has gone. Still working on all the above, though.

The kids are bored! or so they say constantly. They don’t seem like it, actually. Between long demanding school days, homework, ya-yas out in the neighborhood with the other two bored kids in the area, they seem appropriately occupied. We are trying an interesting experiment this school year, with excellent results already--NO TV DURING THE WEEK. It was a tough concept to sell initially, but now the nights pass tolerably well, without our being beset by consumerist culture and wise-ass models. And I have seldom had the urge to lean in and blast the set to smithereens with a shootin’ iron, since it is so seldom on. That’s a healthy change.

Hannah still has a way long braid, loves soccer and hockey, and continues to rattle around in mysterious pre-adolescent moods. She is ten, a rambunctious 5th grader, and almost ready to baby sit, and anxious to drive already. She has shown a precocious capacity for one-line “zingers”, as when she saw me in a sun-screen white nylon jacket and pants, and dead panned, “You look like Elvis.” The agony of it is, I did look like Elvis. But how in the hell did she know that? Say, didn’t Elvis use to shoot T.V.s all over America? Call the National Enquirer...I feel a headline coming on.

Everett at age 8 _ is growing up despite himself, and finally growing out of things before he wears them out or loses them. He still can’t easily reach the pedals on the piano, but he plays some great stuff, and seems to enjoy the attention it brings, enough to overcome the resistance to working at it. He and I had an adventure in the boat this summer. We sailed around the Delmarva peninsula in 5 days, with Pat Jarvie, the kids’ pediatrician. It was an epic Guy Trip. We took off from Oxford, MD, at 10:30PM and sailed all night and day to reach Cape Charles, VA. Above the mouth of the Bay. After an exhausted sleep, we sailed out into the open Atlantic, and turned north along the Virginia and Maryland shore. We sailed all day, night, and through the next day and night to reach the Delaware-Chesapeake Canal. We were just ahead of Hurricane Eduardo, who provided us with lovely great ocean swells, eight to ten feet high, but widely spaced, so the ride was exhilarating. We parted streams of swimming skates, passed a giant sea turtle, and were accompanied by numerous dolphins and pelicans. That night was lit by a full moon, and brushed with a perfect offshore breeze. It was so dreamy, I wanted to go on and on. The canal the next night was busy and nerve-wracking, with mammoth dark ships passing swiftly, but we made our way to Chesapeake City, down the Elk River, and into the Bay. We passed under the Bay Bridge, through hordes of pompous grim-faced sail-racers, and romped home under our spinnaker alone. So we cheated death again. Everett had a unique experience for a little guy. I will be interested to hear his recollection of it in a decade or so.

The big kids are in RI, Michele working and going to school, and Nat working and skateboarding. We have had some visits, and they seem to be doing better and better. In another few years we will no longer be morons, and they will appreciate our more subtle charms...we’re, getting better, really.

Catherine, meanwhile, has gotten into the internet in a big way, such that I am an internet widower at times. She found a slightly used and lovingly cared for Steinway B grand piano on the internet which was for sale in Phoenix, AZ, and bought it sight unseen, all through email. A friend of Kathleen Caldarella’s went to the seller and inspected it and handled the transfer of funds, and a mover picked it up and delivered it here ten days later. Catherine is in a transport over this marvelous instrument, now known as Bete-Noir, or Bette, for short. She organized a “Salon” of the local glitterati, such as we have here, and actually drummed up a neat crowd of classical music lovers. A marvelous Russian pianist, Vladimir Svoysky, played a program of Beethoven, Finko, Prokofiev, and Rachmaninoff, as a dress rehearsal for his recital at Carnegie Hall the next week. The concert was great, the piano overwhelmingly beautiful, and the moment sublime. The wilderness organized itself around the piano, as did all of Tennessee around the jar of Wallace Stevens’ poem “Anecdote of the Jar”. The return engagement was equally lovely, and more are planned but not until Spring, if I have any influence around here.

As for me, I am plugging along, being a good sled dog. I still envision a full staff and more time off. I yearn for more time to visit friends, and sail further abroad, and read the rest of the Jack Aubrey series. It will come to me in time I am sure. Work remains challenging, vexing, humbling, amusing, fascinating, frightening, numbing and bizarre, and even fun. We brush up against such an interesting parade of characters--sneering drug scum, PWTT (poor white trailer trash) with an abscess in their last tooth, shy illegal aliens, sufferers from acute lack of work excuse, supplicants with the vapors, with dramatic fever, with burning pains between their eyes when they urinate. We come to know well those hard women of indeterminate age, who are sort of like Checker Metropolitans. You can’t tell the model year by looking and their paint would never give them away, but you know the odometer has been around a few times. And then, every now and again, someone really sick shows up, and we save them, (or we don’t).

Sound track: Crowd, cheering, rising to crescendo...
Hockey Color Commentator: “It’s Death, on a breakaway, streaking over the blue line, one on one with Roberts in goal. Death fakes right, dekes left, he shoots, hard and low to the glove side. Ooooooohhhhhh! A Kick-Save and a Beauty!! This crowd is going wild! Robbed again of an easy score! Unbelievable effort in goal, eh?”
Station Announcer: “Now back to the same-old same-old, already in progress.”

So anyway, I have arrived at a certain understanding of HOW IT REALLY IS and I thought I would share it with you. You will all recall the Indian parable of the blind mice and the elephant. The various mice grab hold of various parts of the elephant, and each proclaims to have the one and only correct understanding of the essence of the elephant. The one on the ear knows the elephant is like a fan, on the tail like a snake, on the tail, like a rope, and on the foot, like a tree. Well, we in the E.R.s of the world are at the asshole, and we could argue the conclusion that the world is a stinking fen; but let the larger view dawn, and we see that all of the essences are simultaneously correct, and that we just had a really bad seat assignment. Such peace can flow from this simple insight. Catch my inspiring video seminar on PBS this spring.

And so, my long-suffering readers, I send my wishes for this next orbit around our star. May you find ways to hug your children while simultaneously kicking their butts, and may they grow to appreciate that you did that. May your fans grow legion, may your detractors be struck dumb, may your car get better gas mileage than the EPA promises. May your cholesterol stay low, your vitamin levels high, your

waistline stay about the same or maybe a little smaller. May you take a brisk walk daily, try something new and uncertain, and succeed at it. May you renew the friendship in your old relationships, and take the time to write a letter. Even electronic ones count. May you find the discipline to turn off the TV and read for fun and may you find a book funny enough to cause you to raise phlegm. (I have a suggestion or two if you need.) May you talk to people about things that matter to you, and tell the truth even when it is hard to do. May you find a few moments daily to relax and be quiet, and may you find in your heart tolerance and understanding for people who are different. Peace to you, and all you touch.

Regards, Love, etc.