On a ship in the early 50s I read an article on the Island of Barbados in the West Indies. As luck had had it, I found the abandoned "Atlantic Monthly" ashore and brought back aboard Life on the ship was particularly difficult at that time and I soon found myself fantasising life on this Caribbean Island In fact I soon found myself searching out further information on Barbados and wondering if I might be able to use the GI Bill there in a small college after I got out.
One of my shipmates was a man named Lyday (everyone was pretty much called by their last names) who had had an interesting career before he joined the Navy to avoid being on the ground in Korea. One of his jobs was as a sponge diver in the Caribbean, I forget what area. But he fueled my fantasies with stories about his women, the rum, and the island he claimed to have started constructing atop a coral reef (!). He was an artist, and had already worked for Disney in animation, but hated the "fascist politics" of what he called the Disney machine.
Recently I heard about Derek Walcott winning the T.S. Eliot prize for poetry, and a quick call to the local library facilitated an inter-library loan of the prize winning volume, "White Egrets." Aye, the poems brought my fantasies back, many of them I've read several times, and I sent one poem to some neighbors who sailed the Caribbean years ago on a yacht. After having read the dust jacket and found he won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1992 my curiosity sent me to Google, and then on to Wikipedia. And on the list of his works I found this one published in l950: "Henri Christophe: A Chronicle in Seven Scenes, Barbados Advocate (Barbados). Well, it looks like I'm going to have to call the Library and see if they can land that one for me. Incidentally, this very great poet was born in Castries, St. Lucia in the West Indies in 1930, a year before Yours Truly. Please don't miss his work.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Weather Denial in a Limousine
It had been a rough week for the VP, and getting out of the hospital and back to the hotel had not been any different. A huge storm rocked the route, the heater went out and the temperature dropped. His teeth were chattering as the driver announced that the awning was not long enough to handle the distance to the door, and as he said this the rain changed to sleet. Thunder and lightening accompanied this change, and the driver announced they would have to try the underground garage. Traffic was snarled around them, and the VP hoped that good news might appear on the screen in front of him.
The stock market had been off, his version of entitlements (bonuses) might take a beating. Although his medical bills were luckily covered by his former job, he had a lot of other bills due and still to come in. As they moved toward the garage entrance he felt deep chills going through him, and he cursed the fact that this very expensive, bullet proof vehicle couldn't even keep him warm. The paradox of having to stay in the vehicle longer and longer in order to avoid the adverse weather seemed counter productive to him. The man was used to having is way, and that wasn't the way it was now.
His mind wandered to the think tanks working on the alternatives to this so-called "global warming," it was about time they started working harder to dispel the superstitions circulating around climate change. The Kato Institute, what in the world were they up to? What about the efforts of the Coke brothers? & then there was all the environmental criticism around fracking, how could that be dealt with? Too many questions, not enough answers.
As the driver pulled to a stop the VP was glad to see that the hotel had dispatched someone to greet him properly in this unwelcoming garage, at last a sign of hope. The man opened the door and called him by name, welcomed him to the hotel and made his way through the door. The hall seemed like the length of a football field, a long way to the elevator, and there was still no warmth. Up they went, through and above the lobby to the suite that had been prepared for him. Even the TV was on to the stock reports, and finally some heat. The man put a bathrobe around his shoulders and announced that his computer connexion was secure and that he would soon have a drink and a dinner menu. The VP was finally alone and warm. Now he could take his medicine and relax.
The stock market had been off, his version of entitlements (bonuses) might take a beating. Although his medical bills were luckily covered by his former job, he had a lot of other bills due and still to come in. As they moved toward the garage entrance he felt deep chills going through him, and he cursed the fact that this very expensive, bullet proof vehicle couldn't even keep him warm. The paradox of having to stay in the vehicle longer and longer in order to avoid the adverse weather seemed counter productive to him. The man was used to having is way, and that wasn't the way it was now.
His mind wandered to the think tanks working on the alternatives to this so-called "global warming," it was about time they started working harder to dispel the superstitions circulating around climate change. The Kato Institute, what in the world were they up to? What about the efforts of the Coke brothers? & then there was all the environmental criticism around fracking, how could that be dealt with? Too many questions, not enough answers.
As the driver pulled to a stop the VP was glad to see that the hotel had dispatched someone to greet him properly in this unwelcoming garage, at last a sign of hope. The man opened the door and called him by name, welcomed him to the hotel and made his way through the door. The hall seemed like the length of a football field, a long way to the elevator, and there was still no warmth. Up they went, through and above the lobby to the suite that had been prepared for him. Even the TV was on to the stock reports, and finally some heat. The man put a bathrobe around his shoulders and announced that his computer connexion was secure and that he would soon have a drink and a dinner menu. The VP was finally alone and warm. Now he could take his medicine and relax.
Superbowl, A National (NFL) Holiday
I asked one of my sons about the Superbowl this last week. What is involved in it, especially with two teams which are hardly "household names," and it will be prohibitively extensive, held in Dallas, etc. What is it, what is the basic dynamic of it? The answer, "the Superbowl has become a national holiday," and thus the details are fairly unimportant (?). Because corporate America has taken over more and more segments of our national life, why shouldn't the NFL have a national holiday, especially one that is so media dependent because fairly few people are wealthy enough or sufficiently motivated to attend the actual game?
If you look at the postgame media coverage the description of my son is quickly proven correct. What I found was that the ads aired during the game on television were more described than the game itself. And the statistics, not even close. The amount spent at bars, and for the food and drink for home viewing far outweighed the amounts spent in Dallas. I know this is a superfical description, but I think it tells the tale The actual football played was secondary to a host of factors, and you would be hard pressed to find out who the MVP was in the game in the media footage; I looked hard and finally found out who it was.
Perhaps our other national holidays have been taken over by the media & corporations as well, probably so. But most of them have little version celebrations in the schools, churches and such. And they can have basic templates which can go back in history for decades, eons in some cases. Some have been moved around, like Christmas, others have been transformed by appetites, such as Thanksgiving. We shall see how the Superbowl will transform itself in the future. I'm please to say I won't be around to participate.
If you look at the postgame media coverage the description of my son is quickly proven correct. What I found was that the ads aired during the game on television were more described than the game itself. And the statistics, not even close. The amount spent at bars, and for the food and drink for home viewing far outweighed the amounts spent in Dallas. I know this is a superfical description, but I think it tells the tale The actual football played was secondary to a host of factors, and you would be hard pressed to find out who the MVP was in the game in the media footage; I looked hard and finally found out who it was.
Perhaps our other national holidays have been taken over by the media & corporations as well, probably so. But most of them have little version celebrations in the schools, churches and such. And they can have basic templates which can go back in history for decades, eons in some cases. Some have been moved around, like Christmas, others have been transformed by appetites, such as Thanksgiving. We shall see how the Superbowl will transform itself in the future. I'm please to say I won't be around to participate.
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