PHEW!

   So glad both are the same race. 

Ukraine friend---past report

 A friend of Dave's who used to keep him apprised of the happenings in her home country. She wanted Dave to travel there with her, this in fairly recent years. (If anywhere other than Ukraine, he might have accompanied her!

"The Bet" and Lenten Sacrifices

   Anton Chekov wrote about a wealthy banker and a young lawyer who engaged in conversation about which punishment was worse, death or solitary confinement. After spirited debate, in which the young lawyer maintained that a death penalty was worse because a period of confinement would come to an end and the prisoner could  then enjoy his life, the two struck a bargain. The banker would pay 2 of his multitude of millions if the lawyer would seal himself into his  locked cabin for 15 years, the only opening a window which  a watchman observed. And so the deal began. The lawyer went through various phases over the years, listening, and then not listening to music, reading and then not reading, but eventually reading and absorbing all the literature and philosophy of all the writers of all the works. 

  But time does pass, and circumstances do change. The wealthy banker has fallen on hard times, and cannot come up with the 2 million he bartered. He, in possession of the rusty old key, plans to go to the cabin and kill the lawyer.. When he enters he finds the lawyer, now only 40 years old, to be a virtual skeleton, slumped over a table and writing, but pretty much oblivious to his presence. He reads what the once-young but now riddled almost into a petrified figure, has written. The lawyer writes that he has read and absorbed almost every work ever written, and has all that knowledge compressed into his skull. He despises everyone and everything, that people have in essence bartered heaven for earth, with all that they worked so hard for destined to end with death. He no longer wants to understand. So he writes that on the eve of what would be the culmination of the 15 year bet, he would break the bargain and leave the cabin. And so he did, by breaking through the small window. 

   The 40 days of Lenten fasting is much shorter than 15 years, but a parallel can be drawn, especially if solitude prevails. Right now, I have 3 types of candy in open serving dishes in the house. I have not eaten a single piece of candy since the day before Lent. I can look at it, think about it, in all its beauty and innate flavor, and know that others are enjoying it and aspiring to acquiring more. But I know the joy is just temporal and is destined to end. So on the last day of Lent, I plan to devour all the false promise of life and then, in self-loathing and with regret for the human race, make my sad exit through the living room window. (Assuming I can still squeeze through.)

Ah, the Oscars

 That seems so last-century. But I saw 4 movies this year, so I'll opine:

West Side Story was enjoyable to  some degree, but seemed too long. Adding Rita Moreno to the cast was a nice tribute, but some of her appearances seemed redundant, and slightly patronizing. I heard her say that when she was approached for the job, she assumed it was for a cameo appearance, and she let them know that "I don't do cameos."  She probably should have.

Don't Look Up is a movie seemingly composed of  a number of Saturday Night Live skits, randomly strung together to make a politically or ecologically  oriented point. A few of the pieces (and that's what they are---pieces) are clever and /or amusing, but many are just plain simple and foolish. They were strung together by a relaxed committee. The excuse for disaster here is they label it a satire. Also too long.

Licorice Pizza makes me think of a bunch of stoners sitting around a desk trying to think of a title for the movie. Hey, since we're eating pizza, let's use that. We need another word. Not pepperoni or cheese, too common. What food would you not put on a pizza? We got it---licorice. And Licorice Pizza will make it sound somewhat deep and artsy, right? The movie started out like it was going to go somewhere, with characters and a possible plot. But it soon went astray, with a jumble of activities and happenings unrelated to each other or anyone that I could figure anyway. Case in point:  The guy and girl protagonists are in conversation with each other. Suddenly police officers appear on the scene and roughly and without explanation put him in handcuffs and take him away to a jail or court, where he is handcuffed to a bench in the hallway. No spoken words as far as we know. Suddenly one of the "cameo" actors appears in a frazzled hippie state and points to him and tells the cop with him that "No, he's not the murderer." So he is silently released from his handcuffs just as the female lead character shows up. She has been running to find him since  they dragged him away. Both characters do a whole lot of running in the movie. 

Coda is favored  to win Best Picture. I can understand why. It's not an outstanding film by any means, but in comparison to the others I've seen it's a sure bet to win. It has compelling characters and significant continuity of plot. But more importantly, in today's climate, it deals with a handicap, and a young girl pitted against societal discriminations. And Tah Dah, the Happy Ending!  Members of the audience  can indulge in a good cry. So I hear, and have observed. Overlooked in the rush to proclaim happiness for all, though, is the unexplained answer of how their major problem gets resolved. That evidently does not matter. All we need to know when the movie ends is that they all lived happily ever after.

My Repair Log

 Issue #1---My car failed to start yesterday for the third time this winter, though yesterday was Springtime. The first time was a bitter cold day. I called Roadside Assistance, and the rep checked the battery, but thought that there might have been a freeze in the gas tank. He added HEET, charged the battery, and all was well until the next time, a few months later, when Joe T. charged the battery, with no problems until yesterday. I called Roadside Assistance and the rep arrived within an hour. He charged the battery and advised that I leave the car running for 30 minutes. I told him the "history" and he recommended that I take the car to a mechanic for the check of battery, alternator and starter. 

     So without turning the car off, I drove it to the closest mechanic, where Kyle offered to help if I wanted to wait a few minutes. He brought the car inside the garage to check it. He said the battery, which is less than 2 years old, tests at 90+ percent. He said one of the terminals was loose, and that could cause failure to start. I know that the R.A. reps checked the connections; I saw them with a wrench while looking under the hood. But I want to believe that was the problem.

Issue #2---For the last few weeks, there have been television audio problems, similar to those of 2 years ago. Channel 6 audio is unintelligible, with bursts of sound and uneven levels of volume, combined with what I can only describe as loud static. And on Channel 13, the language automatically switches to Spanish and Spectrum ads are silent, mute.  On some programming, a voice narrates the action, commenting what a character is doing while the show goes on.  I waited until this week to call Spectrum, hoping the issues would correct themselves. the first rep I spoke to disabled the Spanish feature, but it returned the next day. I called again the next day and they said there was an outage, and to wait for an automated call saying the service was restored. I had no outage but they said outage means various levels of service disturbances. I waited until after I received the call and called back as instructed since my issues had not resolved. The tech arrived today. He checked every aspect possible, even carrying a ladder to check the installation at the roof, and going downstairs to check the signal. He found no issues "on their side."  So he suspected the box might be defective and so replaced it with a "new"one. As I was told before, all their replacement boxes are refurbished. So all seems well, so far. The only thing is he has been working for Spectrum for 19 years and had never encountered the issue of narration, even saying that their boxes are not programmed to do that. I wish the narrative had occurred while he was here so he could be disabused of the notion that today's customer may be hearing voices. I gave him a 5 rating anyway.

Must-See TV or Top of the Heap

 Current or recent:

 1) Stepping Into The Movies with Derek & Julianne Hough ---top-rated

2)  Something About Pam---I never followed the actual story, so don't know anything about Pam. Renee Zellweger gives  an over the top performance, and the narration and inserted scenes are disruptive and annoying, but still there is something about it...

3) Any and all of the William Mattar insurance advertisements---such an unlikely performer, but he does it all, from serious to amusing, to instructive  and even nostalgic.  I can't imagine how he could even have tried to carry it off, but he seems to think he is capable of doing it all. Therein lies the entertainment factor. And you know if you're hurt in a car, call William Mattar, at 444-4444. Forever emblazoned in our minds.

Dream State

 Because I can't sleep well, my dreams are vivid, well, sort of. In living life, you don't always recognize what may turn our to be important or not, or to remember why something happened or even if it did. So it goes--in dreams.

      I was driving my car, which seemed to be the white one from Grandma's estate. I was following a car driven by Ruth, enroute to her home, or destination anyway, which seemed to be in Rochester or some city I've been to, but never driven to by myself. Ruth was driving fast, through heavy traffic, and pretty much staying in the middle lane. Grandma's car never did have much pickup, and I lost sight of Ruth's car, also white, when Route 54  veered to the right. I made the turn, but afterward doubted myself, and drove in the other direction, before I figured that was not correct, so I went back to the intersection.  I got out of my car and entered a very large and very busy commercial building, with stores, offices, banks etc. There were people milling all  around, carrying on their daily business. I didn't recognize anyone, didn't see Ruth. I started to follow a small group of people out a side entrance, which sloped upward, but then I realized they were employees sneaking  outside on break. So I went back inside, looked around a little more, and then left by way of the wide front entrance. Standing outside on the corner, I considered my options, first of which I needed to find a phone, to call someone, anyone.

    While I was pondering my dilemma, Ruth pulled up alongside the curb. She said she was glad to see I was outside, and apparently waiting for her. I got into her car, and we drove off. but now there were 3 other women in the car; all of them were well-dressed and coiffed, with attractive makeup, and engaged in amicable conversation with each other.  While I explained how I had come to lose sight of the car I was following, they all listened to me in silence, but then turned and started talking to each other again.  Nothing new there, I thought.

Later M. came to pick me up and drive me home. On the way, we noticed a rectangular building glowing in a new coat of gray paint.  Dad did that, M. said, and  also had started on another building not far away. Each building had a 3/4 bright blue  panel next to it. That we both recognized as significant, but I couldn't tell you why.

Delivery: Dyed Unmarked Heating Oil

 Today's delivery, 149.5 gal., via KELLY truck. Mirabito has bought them out. 

NYSERDA   Current week prices

     New York Statewide   5.08

    Capital District            4.95

    North Country             4.78

  This week's prices appear to be at all time high. So delivery now. who knows, prices may drop.

          

A Question

  David was questioning a recipe he had received for pizza dough, whether it was correct to add salt to the yeast mixture. I mentioned that my mother used to make the best bread I'd ever eaten, and that the aroma of her baking bread would fill the  street, and neighbors and Sara's customers would ask her for a loaf of that bread.

   Just  a short and simple remark on my part, but Madeleine, sitting nearby, asked , "What was your mother's name?"  

LOST---Dreams

     As usual, in the old house. My mother was concerned, she told me. She didn't know where Dorothy was,  hadn't seen her in a while. Dorothy was not a child by then, but young, still living at home. We searched all over for her, outside, on the familiar streets of our neighborhood, to no avail. I finally discovered her in the upstairs spare bedroom, lying on the bed there, fully dressed. She was still sleepy, but I told her Ma had been looking for her. Our mother was relieved to hear she'd  been located.

    The scene shifted, within the dream. Dave and I had been on a trip, maybe to NYC or possibly a journey to some other city. We were headed home and in order to reach the train, we had to walk through a very long tunnel-like structure. There were a lot of people taking the  same route so we had to proceed single-file almost. I was ahead of Dave and lost track of him but proceeded along the tunnel of would-be passengers to the very end. He was not behind me. I looked for him in the large terminal or waiting room but did not see him amid the throng  of strangers. I waited for a while and then decided to go back to where we had entered. In order to do that, to return to where we had started out, I had to exit at the far end and walk along the outside of the entry tunnel. That return trip seemed really long, much longer than I'd  remembered and it had a lot of obstacles which interfered with my route to get back where we'd started. I finally reached the entry point again when...

  Suddenly I had a real-life memory, which seemed to coincide with the dream, hadn't not quite woke up yet:

    Dave and I and the three kids had gone to New York.  I don't remember the reason for this particular trip, but remember Danny was about 3 years old, so the others 6 or 8 years older. The five of us were walking back to the train station, me holding Danny's hand and keeping an eye on the other two. We were walking more or less in a group, and though the street was very crowded in the end of work day hours, it was true then that there were very few children in that part of the city, and almost all were men clad in trench coats, tan or gray or black, so it was easy to keep track of the kids. 

   In order to reach the train station, we had to make two crossings, first straight across the street we were on, and then cross the street again to the left. The kids and I made the first crossing, and waited for Dave, who'd been right alongside,  to join us. He wasn't there. We thought maybe he had made the other crossing first. He wasn't at that corner either. So we waited, the four of us on the corner, a colorful sight to behold in the stream of men in drab coats. No Dave. We waited until it was almost time for our train to leave on its evening departure from NYC.  Figuring that Dave might have gone on to the train station, and because it was nearing our departure time, we finally decided to go to the station. I remember we went to the correct track, into Rensselaer, but M. wanted to be sure and went up to the booth and asked the announcer. She needed reassurance. So we waited there. It must have been about 30 or 40 minutes since we'd lost sight of him.  Dave had all our tickets so we couldn't have proceeded without him. In my mind, I thought he might have suddenly fallen or been kidnapped or arrested, but I kept these thoughts to myself. It was a time before instant phone communication, so I was at a loss as to what to do. We just waited as time ran out. At least some of us were slumped on the floor  outside our designated track, just a minute or so before boarding time, when Dave showed up, of course in possession of our return tickets. We had to rush to board our train. The only explanation Dave ever gave, then or when I'd ask him later, was that he'd lost sight of us and waited on the corner. Some mysteries will never be solved.

Troy ...and bullets

    M. invited me to Rachmaninoff's All Night Vigil  performance at Troy Music Hall at 3:00 p.m. The day was sunny and beautiful, and on the drive to Troy, I remarked how some area people are fearful of going to Troy, since the recent instances of shootings, several deadly. We enjoyed the performance, recognizing Julie and Colin from Valley Falls. When we left, about 2 hours later, the day was still bright and sunny. M. drove around the block to pick up sandwiches she'd ordered from The Whistling Kettle. We saw a number of police cars blocking off, I think,

Third Street. We later heard there were shots fired there. Haven't heard anything more, so presumably nobody died. In broad daylight, blocks from the police stationed near the  theatre. Bulletproof vests may be a standard item of choice, and not just for the police.

Cabin Fever thoughts

 Television---that's my connection with the outside world. After the horrible news, I resort to the old and familiar.

   I have to say that the latest Jeopardy contestants seem to have been chosen for being boring and non-photogenic.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.

  I watch Wheel of Fortune so I will be tuned in to Jeopardy. Pat Sajak is  witty and skillful at hosting, but he's starting to look old. I heard him say he wants to leave before people start asking, "What happened to him?" Last year or so, he was out sick, so maybe that's a factor. Vanna still looks quite lovely, but she is thin, and her legs look like straight  and narrow sticks as she walks across the stage in her high heels. I may have to keep the sound on mute though. I can't stand to hear the contestants' pronunciations  when they ask for the letter N. 

And Drew and a rather annoying woman contestant got in an argument today. She chose something wrong and didn't win the car. What I heard was her saying to Drew, "You told me to pick that." He said, "No, I didn't." She countered with "Yes you did." He said "No, I  did not."   (She later won the final showcase, including another car. We all despaired. 

And not done yet, now that I was hand-delivered the  newspaper, I read also-annoying Jo Page's column and fired off an email to her. The title of her column was "Perhaps invasion will raise an awareness of other atrocities."  I didn't say what came to mind when some novice reporter asked Pres. Biden if he thought the economy would be an issue in the coming debate. Biden said he was a stupid sonovabitch. But Lutheran Minister Jo Page's article was worse, filled as it was with self-righteous virtue-signaling. 

 I'm stymied by a certain section of my 1040-SR form, so instead of pursuing that, which haunted my dreams last night, 

I completed Wordle, Daily Word Puzzle (very like wordle, Jumble, Cryptoquip, (my favorite) and 4 crossword puzzles, I abstain from Word Sleuth.

   P.S. Jo Page responded to my email right away. She misspelled "fervently."

Last Man Standing----Apart

 I watch "The Price Is Right."  I admit it, though mostly I just go to that channel to avoid any of the others. When Drew Carey began as host quite a few years ago, he seemed the most awkward and uncomfortable host ever, and over the years he hasn't changed much. When the masking and social distancing began, I think he must have been relieved; he never appeared that comfortable with human contact, at least not close-up encounters. 

    I have to say he appears to possess more COVID-fear than even medical offices. When the lucky contestant approaches him on stage, he seems to react in horror at the prospect of them approaching and hugging them. He's quick to point to the designated spot for them, saying, "Stand over there, on the dollar sign."  When they spin the wheel, there is a similar area  for them to stand in. But sometimes in their excitement of the spin,  they move several steps in his direction. And he never fails  to backpedal the same distance away from them.

    (I'm reminded  of the words spoken by a medical student friend of my daughter, "I like everything about being a doctor except the sick people."

   

Ashes to Ashes

 

Went with M. to St Paul's this evening for Ash Wednesday distribution. This is a picture of my forehead so It's obvious I don't need the reminder that ends in dust to dust. And Father George was present, though not officiating in any visible way, as far as I can see. He has been assigned there. 

       But Lent reminds me of my young and holy years. The morning Lenten service was early at Our Lady of Good Counsel, as the priest had other Masses scheduled. It  was 6:30 as I recall, or maybe even 6 a.m. I wasn't used to waking up that early then, just rising in time for school which was later than today's start time, maybe 8:30 or even 9. I was devoted to attending every day. I would come downstairs where my mother would be fixing breakfast for my father, whose ride picked him up at 6:30. I'd look out the kitchen window, past Sproat's barn, and see the lighted stained glass window of the church. It seemed to be reaching out to me. I'd leave by the back door, and run up the hill behind our house, climb over  the fence, cross through the first cow field, and then slip through the wide gate between the cowbarn and the field, which was loosely tied to its post.   (Thinking back, Patsy Frisino probably left it looped that way to lessen the stress of numerous kids climbing over it.)  Then run along  the path past the pond on the right and to the last gate, which was usually left open. Almost there, the church was just a short distance away. 

   There were never very many people in the church on those mornings:  men on their way to work, dressed in their work clothes, unusual to see in those days when everyone dressed up for church; women whose families were grown, and me, the holy youngster. Nobody noticed or spoke much. If you remember we were told then that the priest was not to be engaged in conversation while he was in possession of the host. The quietness of it all seemed to heighten the holiness. The Mass would be not very long; everybody had things to do later on. 

    I would run back home the same way I got there. My mother would be there of course, in the kitchen getting ready for the day. The other kids were still upstairs in bed; it was too early to get ready for school then. My mother never watched television during the day, but this was special. I would turn the TV on to watch Dave Garroway on the Today Show. He ended every show by reading from the poem, "The world stands out on either side, No wider than the heart is wide."  That seemed to fit right in with the church service and the spirit of Lent. Holiness  pervaded all.  

  Lent today is different. But I do follow the same "sacrifice" that I started when I  was 7 years old.  I do not eat candy during Lent, not even on Sundays!

No right way

  I read about the man who was the victim of a hit and run accident in Glens Falls.  A while ago, probably 10 or so years, I was on the job, driving  a woman to an office in Glens Falls, an area I was not that familiar with. Wanting reassurance that  we were heading in the right direction on entering the city, I stopped at a gas station to confirm my directions. The attendant said yes, just a short distance ahead, but he warned that the way the road had been constructed that there was no way to be in the correct lane when making the right turn to our destination. So do this, he said, and we did, and we got there safely. But the path was a labyrinth.

Don't tell. Don't ask.

    During my last career venture, I visited a family in one of the more remote settlements. The family's home was across the road from a very modestly equipped general store. One day, the police were at the store investigating the break-in which had occurred the night before. A quantity of beer was stolen. I asked the lady of the house if the police had asked her family if they had seen anything. Heck, no, was her answer. The owner of the store thinks we're the ones who broke in and stole his beer.