As usual you have me laughing out loud as you describe life as a very old person. I’m the 80 year old lady who may burn down her Manhattan apartment building because she forgot once again the pot she left on the stove. Again.
Duke Ellington was very active at the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine where his sister Ruth was a member for years. I was honored to serve as an acolyte at his funeral in the 1970’s. So many people attended that the crowd extended onto Amsterdam Avenue. The service was over three hours long. Just about every living jazz musician made an offering of music and so many black entertainers were present. It was quite overwhelming and very moving.
Stand by your pan. ;) "Keep a lid on it," is a good moto as well - it's one of two signs my long suffering husband has posted next to the stove. After he witnessed me ineffectively trying to extinguish a small pan fire by throwing salt on it (I'd read it somewhere!), he demonstrated that simply covering the pan with its cover is a good way to douse the flames. I'm just shy of 62, so we may have a long haul ahead of us. Take care and watch those pans.
When Duke's son Mercer began playing with the band he complimented the other players one evening. The Duke took him aside and said "don't do that - they'll just ask for more money". Years later when he took over the band Mercer said "Dad was right".
I often think of the remark attributed, I think, to Mark Twain: "I went away to college and when I returned I was amazed by how much my father had learned in 4 years".
I love your description of bikers as people who've "...wasted forty years on adolescence..." I'll keep that in mind when Bike Week descends on NH next week.
Understanding and caring spouses are wonderful, indeed! My husband takes good care of me, too. A decade or so back, I was reading at the kitchen table while waiting for dinner to cook and became so engrossed in the book that I forgot what I was supposed to be doing. The rice cooking on the stove behind me began to burn and I didn't notice the kitchen filling the house with smoke or the smoke alarm blaring away until I was suddenly torn put of my fantasy world by the sound of a fireman banging on the door. Luckily for me, the members of our local volunteer fire department were greatly amused. Unfortunately, small towns being what they are, my misadventure became the stuff of local legend.
My husband's response to that incident was to make a sign that hangs next to the stove to this day, that reads, "Stand by your pan." He also helps me when I get lost and call him for directions by asking me for landmarks and looking up my location on Google so he can help guide me to my destination. Little acts of kindness and a sense of humor make life bearable! :)
“The old Southern segregationist senators are gone and forgotten and Duke lives on.” Amen to that. And proof positive that art can outlive hate.
A song that I haven’t heard in years will come on the radio and yet I can sing along. And my memory is decidedly crappy.
I figure the creator worked that out so we would remember the art of music and lyrics as we become old yet can’t remember the 85 passwords modern life demands. I hope to sing till I’m 90, phooey to politics.
As Dame Julian said centuries ago, and T. S. Eliot quoted: "All will be well, and all manner of thing will be well." It's the lack of manners, as you say, that's most troubling and in need of betterment.
Manner is largely gone, now. The Duke had it right: "[He] was elegant and cool and he didn’t deign to address bigotry — he just played right through it." Lordy, how we could use more leaders of bands and good sense come forward! The stages of music today are not what they once were. Artie Shaw's "Begin the Beguine" is heard only on YouTube.
Along with it, "The Vocabulary of All " grows smaller, as our "tainted" words are being removed. Former pitcher, now TV commentator, nominee for the Hall of Fame, Jim Kaat, commented that the dominating Yankee pitche, Nestor Cortes, was "Nestor the Molestor," meaning of course that this fine Yankee pitcher was knocking the snot out of the batting average of those he pitched to. Zap! Another word is imprisoned.
And another statuary is tumbled instead of showing and telling the story about the good and bad. Good and bad! We all have it. Even the shower-takers among us who forget. I am constantly asking why I am in another room. I am forgetting all over the place
Thank goodness for the tolerance of those who love and understand us. How lucky we are. Pray harder for those who don't.
Should that prove a challenge, David Gilmore recorded a perfectly enchanting setting of Shskespeare’s 18. It is worth finding on YouTube for a listen. Both of you will love it.
I know there have been, well, overriding issues the past couple of weeks, but thank you for mentioning Roger Angell today. I was only familiar with Mr. Angell as a writer but you had the great fortune of knowing him as an editor — and just plain knowing him. I always thought if he was as elegant as his writing he would have been a treasured friend. Though I do wonder what Mr. Angell would have thought about spellcheck trying to change his name to “Angelo.” I’m guessing he would probably have just chuckled and gone on with his day. You, and the other fortunate ones in his 101 years of life, are lucky indeed.
Beautiful, evocative column - as always - but I think we are in a place we haven't been since before the Civil War. We elders who want to live out our lives in peace and joy need to be angry enough to fight for the lives of others, especially children. We no longer have the option of ignoring the hatred and carnage. Just the fact that the Senate finds anything to debate in the issue of gun regulation is depraved. We're old enough to have peace in our souls and fire in our bellies if it means others get to have the long life we have.
I, too, have been humbled by my misfiring brain, although no shower lapses yet. I have, however, attempted to back out of the garage without raising the door. Twice. My landlord, also my neighbor, has managed to manhandle it back into place, but three strikes and I’m out. Of just the garage. I now keep a hand made sign on my dash to remind me. The humiliation has softened, and my wife, whose brain is as old as mine, still flashes her loving eyes my way, so I’m OK.
Duke Ellington performed one of his Sacred Concerts at my Minneapolis Methodist church in the winter of 1968. Thrilling. Did you happen to be there? It was a formative experience for me, merging two tributaries of my life, jazz and church. Twenty five years later I finally decided to pursue a career at that intersection. It actually worked, modestly, for the next two dozen years, until I stepped away in 2020, and started my new career of absent minded driving.
So, here I am, having left a trail of both beauty and blunder. Ain’t it great to be alive?
Garrison, your writing brightens my life every day. Thank you. ♥️
As usual you have me laughing out loud as you describe life as a very old person. I’m the 80 year old lady who may burn down her Manhattan apartment building because she forgot once again the pot she left on the stove. Again.
Duke Ellington was very active at the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine where his sister Ruth was a member for years. I was honored to serve as an acolyte at his funeral in the 1970’s. So many people attended that the crowd extended onto Amsterdam Avenue. The service was over three hours long. Just about every living jazz musician made an offering of music and so many black entertainers were present. It was quite overwhelming and very moving.
Stand by your pan. ;) "Keep a lid on it," is a good moto as well - it's one of two signs my long suffering husband has posted next to the stove. After he witnessed me ineffectively trying to extinguish a small pan fire by throwing salt on it (I'd read it somewhere!), he demonstrated that simply covering the pan with its cover is a good way to douse the flames. I'm just shy of 62, so we may have a long haul ahead of us. Take care and watch those pans.
Good choice of inserting Duke Ellington
Very good choice. Satchmo, too....remember his famous "What a Wonderful World." We've got work to do.
When Duke's son Mercer began playing with the band he complimented the other players one evening. The Duke took him aside and said "don't do that - they'll just ask for more money". Years later when he took over the band Mercer said "Dad was right".
Good one! Treat them fairly and there's good harmony everywhere.
Dad was often right! Listen up!
I often think of the remark attributed, I think, to Mark Twain: "I went away to college and when I returned I was amazed by how much my father had learned in 4 years".
Ignore the hatred, create something great. ❤️
I love your description of bikers as people who've "...wasted forty years on adolescence..." I'll keep that in mind when Bike Week descends on NH next week.
Understanding and caring spouses are wonderful, indeed! My husband takes good care of me, too. A decade or so back, I was reading at the kitchen table while waiting for dinner to cook and became so engrossed in the book that I forgot what I was supposed to be doing. The rice cooking on the stove behind me began to burn and I didn't notice the kitchen filling the house with smoke or the smoke alarm blaring away until I was suddenly torn put of my fantasy world by the sound of a fireman banging on the door. Luckily for me, the members of our local volunteer fire department were greatly amused. Unfortunately, small towns being what they are, my misadventure became the stuff of local legend.
My husband's response to that incident was to make a sign that hangs next to the stove to this day, that reads, "Stand by your pan." He also helps me when I get lost and call him for directions by asking me for landmarks and looking up my location on Google so he can help guide me to my destination. Little acts of kindness and a sense of humor make life bearable! :)
The smoke detector goes off when I let things get out of hand on the stove. It even detects excess steam.
I guess it's better for it to be more sensitive than not. I don't have that excuse - it was most definitely smoke pouring out of that pan! :D
A parable of aging, and lessons for us all. Thank you.
“The old Southern segregationist senators are gone and forgotten and Duke lives on.” Amen to that. And proof positive that art can outlive hate.
A song that I haven’t heard in years will come on the radio and yet I can sing along. And my memory is decidedly crappy.
I figure the creator worked that out so we would remember the art of music and lyrics as we become old yet can’t remember the 85 passwords modern life demands. I hope to sing till I’m 90, phooey to politics.
Amen to that! I still can't remember my own cell phone number, but my land line number is able to stick in my head. Keep on singing!
As Dame Julian said centuries ago, and T. S. Eliot quoted: "All will be well, and all manner of thing will be well." It's the lack of manners, as you say, that's most troubling and in need of betterment.
Manner is largely gone, now. The Duke had it right: "[He] was elegant and cool and he didn’t deign to address bigotry — he just played right through it." Lordy, how we could use more leaders of bands and good sense come forward! The stages of music today are not what they once were. Artie Shaw's "Begin the Beguine" is heard only on YouTube.
Along with it, "The Vocabulary of All " grows smaller, as our "tainted" words are being removed. Former pitcher, now TV commentator, nominee for the Hall of Fame, Jim Kaat, commented that the dominating Yankee pitche, Nestor Cortes, was "Nestor the Molestor," meaning of course that this fine Yankee pitcher was knocking the snot out of the batting average of those he pitched to. Zap! Another word is imprisoned.
And another statuary is tumbled instead of showing and telling the story about the good and bad. Good and bad! We all have it. Even the shower-takers among us who forget. I am constantly asking why I am in another room. I am forgetting all over the place
Thank goodness for the tolerance of those who love and understand us. How lucky we are. Pray harder for those who don't.
Those Who Don't may become Forgetters someday as well - I hope they'll have an understanding Somebody around to help them.
Amen!
Duke gave his Evie his New Testament for Christmas in 1963. What will you give your Jenny Lind this year?
I will write her another sonnet.
Should that prove a challenge, David Gilmore recorded a perfectly enchanting setting of Shskespeare’s 18. It is worth finding on YouTube for a listen. Both of you will love it.
I share your appreciation of Roger Angell. His essay on The Martini is a gem!
I know there have been, well, overriding issues the past couple of weeks, but thank you for mentioning Roger Angell today. I was only familiar with Mr. Angell as a writer but you had the great fortune of knowing him as an editor — and just plain knowing him. I always thought if he was as elegant as his writing he would have been a treasured friend. Though I do wonder what Mr. Angell would have thought about spellcheck trying to change his name to “Angelo.” I’m guessing he would probably have just chuckled and gone on with his day. You, and the other fortunate ones in his 101 years of life, are lucky indeed.
Worthy notes to geezers . . . .
Very sorry about the shower thing, been there done that. Wish I were you, so amazingly real. Thanks for these words. rr
Beautiful, evocative column - as always - but I think we are in a place we haven't been since before the Civil War. We elders who want to live out our lives in peace and joy need to be angry enough to fight for the lives of others, especially children. We no longer have the option of ignoring the hatred and carnage. Just the fact that the Senate finds anything to debate in the issue of gun regulation is depraved. We're old enough to have peace in our souls and fire in our bellies if it means others get to have the long life we have.
I, too, have been humbled by my misfiring brain, although no shower lapses yet. I have, however, attempted to back out of the garage without raising the door. Twice. My landlord, also my neighbor, has managed to manhandle it back into place, but three strikes and I’m out. Of just the garage. I now keep a hand made sign on my dash to remind me. The humiliation has softened, and my wife, whose brain is as old as mine, still flashes her loving eyes my way, so I’m OK.
Duke Ellington performed one of his Sacred Concerts at my Minneapolis Methodist church in the winter of 1968. Thrilling. Did you happen to be there? It was a formative experience for me, merging two tributaries of my life, jazz and church. Twenty five years later I finally decided to pursue a career at that intersection. It actually worked, modestly, for the next two dozen years, until I stepped away in 2020, and started my new career of absent minded driving.
So, here I am, having left a trail of both beauty and blunder. Ain’t it great to be alive?
Amen, brother.
Amen and Amen! Well-told, Steve. You went where your goings were graces (Hopkins).
Where would we be without post-it notes? :)
Strange how the judicial system works. I can think of an orange man who should be wearing an orange vest.