The Many Forms of Love's Arrival

 

(c) wisefamousquotes.com

As I often say right here in this space, I am not in the business of telling people what anyone should read.  I love reading and believe therefore - undoubtedly with the inherent bias of a true believer - being well-read makes it more difficult for a person to be ignorant than he or she might otherwise be.   Unless of course their ignorance is a path well-worn by deliberate design.  For that kind of ignorance, there is no readily apparent cure.  

This weekend I read a rather extraordinary book, written by a sportswriter whose work on his chosen beat of college football I have read and have appreciated for as long as I can remember.  Notwithstanding my long-held appreciation for Ivan Maisel and his way with words, he has not written anything as memorable or as brave as I Keep Trying to Catch His Eye:  A Memoir of Loss, Grief, and Love.   

Ivan Maisel and his wife, Meg, raised three children.  In February 2015, shortly after his twenty-first birthday, their middle child and only son, Max, committed suicide.   The book he has written tells a story that is both profoundly intimate, as we learn much about Max and the Maisel family, and universally relatable, as any of us who has ever buried a loved one (regardless of the circumstances of his or her death) will recognize ourselves and steps we ourselves have walked in the days, weeks, months, and years since in those the Maisel family has walked since Max's death.  We recognize, too, what Ivan Maisel recognizes and expresses so brilliantly, which is that ours is now a journey whose end shall be reached only at the end of our own life.  

-AK 

Let Language Be Not A Barrier

I am hardly fluent in English (my native tongue) and barely conversational in French (four years of it in high school), and the Rosetta Stone’s promise of easily learning a new language notwithstanding, I am far too old a dog to learn that particular new trick.   

My longwinded way of saying I speak no Ukrainian and therefore do not know the Ukrainian word for hero. However I have followed the events of the past week closely enough to appreciate just how perfectly Raymond Chandler nailed it.  

The people of Ukraine have demonstrated this week not only are they the best of us in this world but that any world, anywhere, would be honored to have them.   

-AK

Twice As Old As She Was Yesterday

Today, Rylan who is the fourth of my five grandchildren and the tail gunner of Suzanne and Ryan’s trio celebrates her birthday.  When asked, she will tell you she is five.  She is not.  Not yet.  

She is, however, twice as old today as she was yesterday.  Maybe that explains her preference for napping in Pop Pop’s chair…

Toddling is tiring work.  

-AK 

It’s A Mad Dog’s Promenade

…so walk tall

Or baby don’t walk at all.

-AK

Don’t Call It A Throwback

Instead let us just refer to it as the way it started…

Start of 2022 Manasquan 

Mid-Winter Beach Run

…and the way it ended.

Finish line:  2022 Manasquan

Mid-Winter Beach Run

I must admit that at this stage of my life I never feel older than I do when I see pictures of myself running.  I did hoof it across the line in under twenty minutes, of  which it felt as if I had spent at least a third of that time completing the quarter-mile beach portion of the race. 

At least I finished a race that I started.  As we know, with me that is not always the case.

-AK 

The Gentleman from Ohio

 

I am more than a bit embarrassed to admit that I did not realize until I finished Jeff Shesol’s quite excellent book, Mercury Rising, on Monday night that this past Sunday was the sixtieth anniversary of John Glenn’s flight in Friendship 7.   John Glenn was an American hero; simply by virtue of the way he went about his business.  Prior to being selected as one of NASA’s first astronauts, he served this nation as a United States Marine.  He flew combat missions in Korea, often times with Ted Williams as his wingman.  

While once again employing the disclaimer that unlike Oprah, I neither run a book club nor foist my taste in books on anyone else, I recommend reading Shesol’s book.  It not only pays deserved tribute to John Glenn but paints in colorfully vivid strokes the picture of what the world looked like in the Cold War 1950s and 1960s.  For those entranced by recent developments in geopolitics, it might be useful to remember or to learn just how much of history is echo and reverb.  

-AK

A Reason For Hope

… And Mary Lou, she found out how to cope

She rides to heaven on a gyroscope

The Daily News asks her for the dope

She said, "Man, the dope's that there's still hope"…

"Does This Bus Stop at 82nd Street?"

Bruce Springsteen

Should you have woken up this morning in need for something - anything really - to help get you through this Tuesday in February, may I offer this?

Today, Tuesday, February 22, is February's final Tuesday.  This time next week it shall be March.  The Vernal Equinox shall be less than three weeks away.  

Mary Lou was right, ladies and gentlemen.   There is still hope.  

It springs eternal, after all. 

(c) Parade Magazine 

-AK