I mainly credit Walter Cronkite’s late Sunday afternoon broadcast, ‘The Twentieth Century’ for my awareness of World War I and its sequel. Of course, as a child I knew veterans of the first, but they never spoke of the experience, so my impressions were of soldiers, horses and artillery all moving in the stuttery and strangely accelerated manner of early film, all narrated by Walter Cronkite. Unfortunately, professional football completely filled Sunday afternoons by the mid-60s, eventually spilling over to Sunday nights, Mondays and even occasionally Thursdays.
To this day, I have this feeling of being a contemporary to those who experienced those wars, even though I was born more than seven years after the last one.
I hope my grandkids are finding a little time to learn about this horrible history, but video games and social media may be depriving them of that sense of being connected to the times and people who came before.
Thank you. Both my grandfathers, Alfred Granzen and Alexander Lawson, fought in WWI, and would never talk about it. Except Alfred once said, their commanding officer ordered them to charge across a death zone. When no one went, he responded, “What, do you want to live forever?”
Indeed Canada is burning and while we have been your closest friend,
to the Great White North, we now pose the hottest of threats.
Having seeped into your own atmosphere. It’s now personal. Every breath you take….
In reverse, there are very few Canadians who consume anything and everything but American Culture.
Those of us privileged enough to be white, university educated, recipients of inheritance, even in some minor way, and working …
I was alarmed, but not surprised, to learn of the experiment and subsequent comments from Malcolm Gladwell during his experiment with graduating university seniors in Pennsylvania. The students conscientious reflection that they would, to a person, not change the privilege that they enjoy, simply as a matter of birth date, is appalling, yet not surprising. What does that mean?
For another day..
Way to go Garrison but is it possible that your extraordinarily gifted intellect, your ammunition so to speak, is still dry, your musket shouldered, firing for sure but shooting up, off into the recipient air, at no target of consequential significance. Your astute, brilliant, observations and insight into human nature is the stuff of great humour and “Ya, he’s so right”, “He’s nailed it, again”, but stops, just short of, exhortation.
Brilliance askew? Ever so slightly? I'm not the judge but I am among the jury.
Mind you, here I am spouting off about guns when what we really need is more power of the pen. Exactly your weapon of choice.
I’ve fallen in love with the GPS woman. I let her guide me everywhere even though I should be sitting at home inside on hot days, but here I am sitting in my car enjoying her guidance and marveling at how she gets it done. We have driven everywhere burning up lots of gasoline and covering miles of nothingness just to be with her, and her alone. Recently I purchased a new car and horror of horrors it was a different GPS woman greeting me so I went back to the dealership and they helped me find my love again and her delicious British accent. I’m up at all hours sitting in the car sharing life’s journeys with my loving GPS woman. Just wanted to let you know. Cheers!
The ground is still shaking, Garrison. Our sensory shock absorbers have been atrophied inversely as our technological acumen have grown. It used to be rough ground beneath our feet was the object of our discontents. Discontent now abounds on our "advanced" planet as it effortlessly slips into the abyss in space as a planet unable to sustain life "as we know it"
Cherish that appearance of "She Whom (you) Love" while listening to those eternal strings of Tchaikovsky's boat men's river Serenade.
Following up on the reference above to the pen being mightier than the sword, a bit of morning-trivia:
1) The full quote is
“Under the rule of men entirely great
The pen is mightier than the sword.”
(This is one of those often-used adages whose original meaning is somewhat different when cited in its full context.
Likewise, check out “Ignorance is bliss”.)
2) The quote comes from the play “Richelieu” written by none other than Edward Bulwer-Lytton, probably better known for the quote “It was a dark and stormy night”, and for giving his name to innumerable “Bad Writing” contents.
When I taught college in Washington DC in the 90s and was explaining how WWI wiped out the male population in Britain, a student asked if I'd been there....no, I replied, my grandfather served in WWI......think about it....
My father fought in World War I -a young man “conscripted” from a small town in North Georgia. With a skimpy 3 months of training, he was deployed to a battle field in France, where he was an ambulance driver. While picking up dead and wounded from a battlefield, Daddy’s heart was damaged from mustard gas fired by the Germans. He returned home disabled, but married my mother, always had a job to support our family of four children, and died in 1958 at age 67. I was 18 years old and a freshman in college.
She Whom I Love... Ah, the allusion to 'She Who Must be Obeyed' tingles a happy memory of Hilda Rumpole, not to mention Virginia Woolf's Mrs Ramsey. But regarding Tchaikovsky, perhaps just drink your chai if you don't want to delve deeper into music, which to me, also a child of 1942, has become a way to become more human, more connected to many people(s) of many countries.
My mom is an octogenarian. Eighty three, to be exact but who's really counting now. She is anti-technology. Her upbringing was in the Bronx when no one had AC during the sweltering summer months. She loathes the Internet and social media. I swore off Facebook myself. It felt like I was reliving high school. It wasn't a pleasant experience for me either. My parents have weird tv diets. They are obsessed with HGTV & other home improvement channels. It all seems derivative to me. How many shows can you watch in one week? At least my folks watch Jeopardy where you could learn something besides the location of your cell phone. I think my mom is old-fashioned. My dad knows what email is and has a presence on Facebook. He also is afflicted with Parkinsonism. I do not think his fire buddies *FDNY* know how badly he has evaporated. Sometimes I wish my mom understood text messages and other connections. It's the Age of Information and she'd rather not educate herself on how technology operates.
I'm 2nd generation German American and my Swedish American uncle (1st generation) was drafted into Pershing's Expeditionary Force in WW I. The Regimental Commander said they should form a band and asked who played an instrument. Uncle Henry played clarinet in a dance band back home in MN so said he'd play but no instrument. "We'll get you one". So, the French Knights of Columbus gave a brand-new clarinet to a Lutheran Swedish American soldier. He played the older Albert fingering (looked like an oboe) so had to learn to play the new Boehm system. Band members were litter bearers and he survived in good shape. That clarinet possibly spared him injury or death.
I still have the clarinet. I played in orchestra and band in junior high and high school and his granddaughter played it in school. I asked for it before he died and I still have it. I should play it more for old times sake.
Perhaps the issue is in our grade school education system in which students are rewarded with passing grades just for showing up for class and teachers are hamstrung by spineless administrators who are unwilling to stand up to parents who believe in alternative facts lest they show up at a school board meeting and behave like a clown and get them fired.
I mainly credit Walter Cronkite’s late Sunday afternoon broadcast, ‘The Twentieth Century’ for my awareness of World War I and its sequel. Of course, as a child I knew veterans of the first, but they never spoke of the experience, so my impressions were of soldiers, horses and artillery all moving in the stuttery and strangely accelerated manner of early film, all narrated by Walter Cronkite. Unfortunately, professional football completely filled Sunday afternoons by the mid-60s, eventually spilling over to Sunday nights, Mondays and even occasionally Thursdays.
To this day, I have this feeling of being a contemporary to those who experienced those wars, even though I was born more than seven years after the last one.
I hope my grandkids are finding a little time to learn about this horrible history, but video games and social media may be depriving them of that sense of being connected to the times and people who came before.
Thank you. Both my grandfathers, Alfred Granzen and Alexander Lawson, fought in WWI, and would never talk about it. Except Alfred once said, their commanding officer ordered them to charge across a death zone. When no one went, he responded, “What, do you want to live forever?”
Indeed Canada is burning and while we have been your closest friend,
to the Great White North, we now pose the hottest of threats.
Having seeped into your own atmosphere. It’s now personal. Every breath you take….
In reverse, there are very few Canadians who consume anything and everything but American Culture.
Those of us privileged enough to be white, university educated, recipients of inheritance, even in some minor way, and working …
I was alarmed, but not surprised, to learn of the experiment and subsequent comments from Malcolm Gladwell during his experiment with graduating university seniors in Pennsylvania. The students conscientious reflection that they would, to a person, not change the privilege that they enjoy, simply as a matter of birth date, is appalling, yet not surprising. What does that mean?
For another day..
Way to go Garrison but is it possible that your extraordinarily gifted intellect, your ammunition so to speak, is still dry, your musket shouldered, firing for sure but shooting up, off into the recipient air, at no target of consequential significance. Your astute, brilliant, observations and insight into human nature is the stuff of great humour and “Ya, he’s so right”, “He’s nailed it, again”, but stops, just short of, exhortation.
Brilliance askew? Ever so slightly? I'm not the judge but I am among the jury.
Mind you, here I am spouting off about guns when what we really need is more power of the pen. Exactly your weapon of choice.
How Canadian.
Gratefully
Way to go!
Ron.
I’ve fallen in love with the GPS woman. I let her guide me everywhere even though I should be sitting at home inside on hot days, but here I am sitting in my car enjoying her guidance and marveling at how she gets it done. We have driven everywhere burning up lots of gasoline and covering miles of nothingness just to be with her, and her alone. Recently I purchased a new car and horror of horrors it was a different GPS woman greeting me so I went back to the dealership and they helped me find my love again and her delicious British accent. I’m up at all hours sitting in the car sharing life’s journeys with my loving GPS woman. Just wanted to let you know. Cheers!
The ground is still shaking, Garrison. Our sensory shock absorbers have been atrophied inversely as our technological acumen have grown. It used to be rough ground beneath our feet was the object of our discontents. Discontent now abounds on our "advanced" planet as it effortlessly slips into the abyss in space as a planet unable to sustain life "as we know it"
Cherish that appearance of "She Whom (you) Love" while listening to those eternal strings of Tchaikovsky's boat men's river Serenade.
Following up on the reference above to the pen being mightier than the sword, a bit of morning-trivia:
1) The full quote is
“Under the rule of men entirely great
The pen is mightier than the sword.”
(This is one of those often-used adages whose original meaning is somewhat different when cited in its full context.
Likewise, check out “Ignorance is bliss”.)
2) The quote comes from the play “Richelieu” written by none other than Edward Bulwer-Lytton, probably better known for the quote “It was a dark and stormy night”, and for giving his name to innumerable “Bad Writing” contents.
I’m not as old as you but I feel you. Please keep writing until your last possible minute. Thank you.
When I taught college in Washington DC in the 90s and was explaining how WWI wiped out the male population in Britain, a student asked if I'd been there....no, I replied, my grandfather served in WWI......think about it....
My father fought in World War I -a young man “conscripted” from a small town in North Georgia. With a skimpy 3 months of training, he was deployed to a battle field in France, where he was an ambulance driver. While picking up dead and wounded from a battlefield, Daddy’s heart was damaged from mustard gas fired by the Germans. He returned home disabled, but married my mother, always had a job to support our family of four children, and died in 1958 at age 67. I was 18 years old and a freshman in college.
What an enormous story you tell in so few words. I salute you and your father.
She Whom I Love... Ah, the allusion to 'She Who Must be Obeyed' tingles a happy memory of Hilda Rumpole, not to mention Virginia Woolf's Mrs Ramsey. But regarding Tchaikovsky, perhaps just drink your chai if you don't want to delve deeper into music, which to me, also a child of 1942, has become a way to become more human, more connected to many people(s) of many countries.
It would be great if you’d use Substack’s voiceover function to add audio to these posts!
My mom is an octogenarian. Eighty three, to be exact but who's really counting now. She is anti-technology. Her upbringing was in the Bronx when no one had AC during the sweltering summer months. She loathes the Internet and social media. I swore off Facebook myself. It felt like I was reliving high school. It wasn't a pleasant experience for me either. My parents have weird tv diets. They are obsessed with HGTV & other home improvement channels. It all seems derivative to me. How many shows can you watch in one week? At least my folks watch Jeopardy where you could learn something besides the location of your cell phone. I think my mom is old-fashioned. My dad knows what email is and has a presence on Facebook. He also is afflicted with Parkinsonism. I do not think his fire buddies *FDNY* know how badly he has evaporated. Sometimes I wish my mom understood text messages and other connections. It's the Age of Information and she'd rather not educate herself on how technology operates.
I'm 2nd generation German American and my Swedish American uncle (1st generation) was drafted into Pershing's Expeditionary Force in WW I. The Regimental Commander said they should form a band and asked who played an instrument. Uncle Henry played clarinet in a dance band back home in MN so said he'd play but no instrument. "We'll get you one". So, the French Knights of Columbus gave a brand-new clarinet to a Lutheran Swedish American soldier. He played the older Albert fingering (looked like an oboe) so had to learn to play the new Boehm system. Band members were litter bearers and he survived in good shape. That clarinet possibly spared him injury or death.
I still have the clarinet. I played in orchestra and band in junior high and high school and his granddaughter played it in school. I asked for it before he died and I still have it. I should play it more for old times sake.
Perhaps the issue is in our grade school education system in which students are rewarded with passing grades just for showing up for class and teachers are hamstrung by spineless administrators who are unwilling to stand up to parents who believe in alternative facts lest they show up at a school board meeting and behave like a clown and get them fired.