Forever Young

Two Treasures From My Personal Library

This week I’ve entered the magical worlds of Winnie the Pooh (A.A. Milne, 1926) and Miss Suzy (Miriam Young, 1964). I adventured with Pooh, Piglet, Tigger, and Eeoyre, reading the story from beginning to end, a first edition passed from my uncle to my mom to me. The story, though laugh out loud funny, is about love and the meaning and importance of friendship. Pooh knows the value of true friends and adventure and nurtures his relationships, a reminder that friendship thrives on the giving of oneself for the good of the whole. What a truly delightful read that takes on new meaning as an adult. Advice: read this again from cover to cover.

      “Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh," he whispered. 

      "Yes, Piglet?" 

      "Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, "I just wanted to be sure of you."

Today I visited Miss Suzy the squirrel. Reading as an adult, I understand both my fascination with this kind, gentle squirrel and why it was my favorite childhood book.  Miss Suzy epitomizes optimism, forgiveness, and general goodness. She reminds me that a contentment with life, no matter the curve balls, helps turn adversity into opportunity.  Miss Suzy somehow assures me that if I follow her lead, allowing some help from strangers along the way, that life can take on new meaning from disappointing and even frightening situations.

      “My, what a lovely house!” thought Miss Suzy. “It is fit for a queen. But it needs a housekeeper, so it is just the place for me.”

As I move through my summer reading list, these two books from my childhood waved at me from my bookshelves, reminding me that they were old friends begging to be re-visited. Thank you Pooh and Miss Suzy for a wonderful attitude adjustment at a paramount juncture in my summer.

Cicada Notes from Columbia, Missouri

Maple Branch Hanging Over My Deck

The heat and cicadas have silenced me this week. 

Some thoughts:

For an event 13 years in the making, the city of Columbia, Missouri, finds itself in the epicenter of cicada numbers and action. Reports of either clear or minimal cicada sightings include all parts of the state: Springfield, St. Louis, Rolla, and Marion County. Joplin deserves a cicada-free recovery environment. If something has divinely protected Joplin and shot them all to central Columbia, so be it.

Some observations:

A family friend and local attorney Glen Ehrhardt wrote: “Can someone explain why every cicada around my office today felt the urge to take up residence in my vehicle when i parked under a tree this afternoon and cracked the window half an inch. And why the need for all the "making out" in the back seat??? Really can't they get a room.....................” 

My brother discovered that the sound of the cicada song mirrored his weed eater. When the weed eater hummed, my handsome brother was immediately covered with hundreds of female cicadas. Weed eater goes off--the cicadas flee. I asked him if he felt sexy. He gave me the bird in response.

Only to discover that these beasts may be bisexual little critters, and as in life the woman usually holds the cards. Males will sing for hours and hours, hoping to attract a female date. When the female wants to mate, all she does is flick her wings. And she is a love ’em and leave ’em type; any ‘ol male will do. Conversely, Mr. Cicada sings and flies for hours, looking for the most attractive partner.

But back to the sexual identity of the male cicada. It appears the insect can pick up an STD of sorts. Cicadas, both genders, can become infected with a fungal parasite that causes the males wings to snap the sound of the female causing males to swarm males. Upon infection, females only mate one more time where a male just can’t turn it off. David Marshall of the University of Connecticut explains: “They keep flicking and flicking and getting molested by other males.”

Discarded Shells

Columbia style:

My funky little hometown made national news this week when a local ice cream shop on Ninth Street mixed up a batch of cicada ice cream. They sold out in one day. National media outlets including the Today Show, NPR's Morning Edition, Time, and MSNBC reported the story and the delayed decision of Columbia’s health department to say, “hmmm...maybe not.”

Every insect story deserves a maraschino cherry on top: This week the University of Missouri hosted the 13th Invertebrate Sound and Vibration International meeting in the Bond Life Sciences Center with more than 100 scientist from around the globe. Go figure.

The beat goes on in CoMo-or more accurately the buzz just can’t turn off.

Water by Philip Larkin

Water, Sleep, Faith, Imagination

I toss and turn tonight sweating from illness, I get up for some water. To drink, of course. Yet as the faucet runs, my fingers instinctively flick the water on my face and then more. It felt like standing naked in the rain (gently falling now in Boone County) or crying in the shower. As I close this with the sharing of a favorite poem, one that makes use of water, I'm uncertain if I will walk onto the deck or allow my mattress to digest me for the magic, healing wonders of sleep. 

Water by Philip Larkin

If I were called in
To construct a religion
I should make use of water.

Going to church
Would entail a fording
To dry, different clothes;

My liturgy would employ
Images of sousing,
A furious devout drench,

And I should raise in the east
A glass of water
Where any-angled light
Would congregate endlessly.

Decoration Day

Britts Women in Clinton, Mo.

One of my early memories surrounds traveling with Miss Dolly (my grandmother) to her hometown of Clinton, Mo., for Decoration Day. The work started at Miss Dolly’s the day before, filling buckets and buckets with long stem cut flowers such as Irises and Peonies from her yard. Then, we would load her station wagon with the flowers to head to Clinton with my sister or cousins.

Englewood Cemetery in Clinton is an old cemetery: family plots with short stone walls; granite angels for children; tombstones reading “Mother” or “Father” in large letters, their proper name in smaller carving. My great-great aunt (right in picture to left) whom I was named for stone simply reads ANNIE in large letters, bearing no birth or death date. I guess that is how she wanted it.

At the cemetery, the kids filled the vases with the cut flowers to be distributed by my grandmother to the many graves. Miss Dolly’s sister--Aunt Lorna to me--would join us. I can see her today: always in a wide-brimmed summer hat, she would walk by Miss Dolly, freely tossing flowers here and there, saying “Mother Dear,” “Father Dear,” and on.

Yesterday, I had the honor of decorating the graves of my family in Columbia. Mom wanted to know all the details and I told her how much fun I had doing it. She replied, “that is because you remember going to Clinton for Decoration Day.” I know the holiday is called Memorial Day even if I didn’t growing up. Assuming the name changed sometime in the 1960s or 70s, I found it appropriate in “a my-family-sort-of-way” to learn today that it officially became known as Memorial Day in 1882. Regardless, it is still Decoration Day to me.

The Cigarette

Hey smokers, listen up. 

You likely think you “just like to smoke.” I know well the perception: sit back, relax, and indulge in a guilty pleasure. Fact is, without nicotine in a cigarette you cough like those first, innocent puffs of cigarettes. They taste just awful and the ahhhh feeling of the nicotine blast isn't there. The urge to “relax” with a cigarette is simply the need for a nicotine fix; seductive little bastards those cigarettes. Smoking provides an easy route to inhale all of the following chemicals:  

• Acetanisole
• Acetic Acid
• Acetoin
• Acetophenone
• 6-Acetoxydihydrotheaspirane
• 2-Acetyl-3- Ethylpyrazine
• 2-Acetyl-5-Methylfuran
• Acetylpyrazine
• 2-Acetylpyridine
• 3-Acetylpyridine
• 2-Acetylthiazole
• Aconitic Acid
• dl-Alanine
• Alfalfa Extract
• Allspice Extract,Oleoresin, and Oil
• Allyl Hexanoate
• Allyl Ionone
• Almond Bitter Oil
• Ambergris Tincture
• Ammonia
• Ammonium Bicarbonate
• Ammonium Hydroxide
• Ammonium Phosphate Dibasic
• Ammonium Sulfide
• Amyl Alcohol
• Amyl Butyrat
• Amyl Formate

• Amyl Octanoate
• alpha-Amylcinnamaldehyde
• Amyris Oil
• trans-Anethole
• Angelica Root Extract, Oil and Seed Oil
• Anise
• Anise Star, Extract and Oils
• Anisyl Acetate
• Anisyl Alcohol
• Anisyl Formate
• Anisyl Phenylacetate
• Apple Juice Concentrate, Extract, and Skins
• Apricot Extract and Juice Concentrate
• 1-Arginine
• Asafetida Fluid Extract And Oil
• Ascorbic Acid
• 1-Asparagine Monohydrate
• 1-Aspartic Acid
• Balsam Peru and Oil
• Basil Oil
• Bay Leaf, Oil and Sweet Oil
• Beeswax White
• Beet Juice Concentrate
• Benzaldehyde
• Benzaldehyde Glyceryl Acetal
• Benzoic Acid, Benzoin
• Benzoin Resin
• Benzophenone
• Benzyl Alcohol
• Benzyl Benzoate
• Benzyl Butyrate
• Benzyl Cinnamate
• Benzyl Propionate
• Benzyl Salicylate
• Bergamot Oil
• Bisabolene
• Black Currant Buds Absolute
• Borneol
• Bornyl Acetate
• Buchu Leaf Oil
• 1,3-Butanediol
• 2,3-Butanedione
• 1-Butanol
• 2-Butanone
• 4(2-Butenylidene)-3,5,5-Trimethyl-2-Cyclohexen-1-One
• Butter, Butter Esters, and Butter Oil
• Butyl Acetate
• Butyl Butyrate
• Butyl Butyryl Lactate
• Butyl Isovalerate
• Butyl Phenylacetate
• Butyl Undecylenate
• 3-Butylidenephthalide
• Butyric Acid]
• Cadinene
• Caffeine
• Calcium Carbonate
• Camphene
• Cananga Oil
• Capsicum Oleoresin
• Caramel Color
• Caraway Oil
• Carbon Dioxide
• Cardamom Oleoresin, Extract, Seed Oil, and Powder
• Carob Bean and Extract
• beta-Carotene
• Carrot Oil
• Carvacrol
• 4-Carvomenthenol
• 1-Carvone
• beta-Caryophyllene
• beta-Caryophyllene Oxide
• Cascarilla Oil and Bark Extract
• Cassia Bark Oil
• Cassie Absolute and Oil
• Castoreum Extract, Tincture and Absolute
• Cedar Leaf Oil
• Cedarwood Oil Terpenes and Virginiana
• Cedrol
• Celery Seed Extract, Solid, Oil, And Oleoresin
• Cellulose Fiber
• Chamomile Flower Oil And Extract
• Chicory Extract
• Chocolate
• Cinnamaldehyde
• Cinnamic Acid
• Cinnamon Leaf Oil, Bark Oil, and Extract
• Cinnamyl Acetate
• Cinnamyl Alcohol
• Cinnamyl Cinnamate
• Cinnamyl Isovalerate
• Cinnamyl Propionate
• Citral
• Citric Acid
• Citronella Oil
• dl-Citronellol
• Citronellyl Butyrate
• itronellyl Isobutyrate
• Civet Absolute
• Clary Oil
• Clover Tops, Red Solid Extract
• Cocoa
• Cocoa Shells, Extract, Distillate And Powder
• Coconut Oil
• Coffee
• Cognac White and Green Oil
• Copaiba Oil
• Coriander Extract and Oil
• Corn Oil
• Corn Silk
• Costus Root Oil
• Cubeb Oil
• Cuminaldehyde
• para-Cymene
• 1-Cysteine

This is just the ABCs of it all. See http://quitsmoking.about.com/cs/nicotineinhaler/a/cigingredients.htm for a complete list.

Today marks four years since I kicked the cigarettes to the curb. Freedom! Two things helped me quit: Chantix, the controversial but highly effective quit smoking drug, and Quitnet, a thriving online community of folks committed to helping each other quit. Heck. If I would ever take up nicotine again, I’m opting for Nicorette gum.

Why Didn’t Someone Tell Me About Crying in the Shower?

Waterfall and Rainbow at Yosemite National Park

Not being able to find a poem that I need is like misplacing my aspirin or car keys--I get stuck. I expected to find the text on the Internet; after all everything is on the Internet. With a wee bit of glee, I discovered that an old friend of mine, "Why Didn’t Someone Tell Me About Crying in the Shower?" had escaped the world wide web. Two copies of this poem should be in my house, one in a trade paperback and the other in a poetry folder from college. When I finally found it, bound in a clear-covered folder, handwritten, with doodles to decorate, I felt much relief. That yellow folder houses a lot of memories, and more than a few poems that helped me through my late teenage years, this being one of them.

Why Didn’t Someone Tell Me About Crying in the Shower?

By Ray Bradbury

Why Didn’t Someone Tell Me About Crying in the Shower?

What a fair fine place to cry.

What a rare place to let go

And know that no one hears---

Let fall your tears which, with the rain that falls,

Appall nobody save yourself, and standing there

You wear your sadness, properly assuaged,

Your head and face massaged by storms of spring

Or, if you think it, autumn rain.

You drain yourself away to naught, the move to joy;

But sadness must come first, it must be bought.

A thirst for melancholy, then, must find its place

To stand in the corners and know grief;

The last leaf on the tree may turn you there,

Or just the way the wind, with cats, 

Prowls down the garden grass

Or some boy passing on a bike,

Selling the end of summer with a shout, 

Or some toy left like doubt upon a walk,

Or some girl’s smile that, heedless, cracks the heart, 

In all your house is empty, still,

Your children gone, their warm rooms chill,

Their summer-oven beds unyeasted, flat, 

Waiting for cats to visit some half-remembered ghost

In the long fall.

So, for absolutely no good reason at all

Old oceans rise

One’s eyes are filled with salt; 

Something unknown then dies and must be mourned.

Then standing beneath the shower at noon or night

Is right and proper and good--

One’s interior land is wonderfully nourished by tears:

The years that you brought to harvest

Are properly scythed down and laid,

The games of love you played are ribboned and filed, unbound

So freely found then, know it, let it go

From out your eyes and with the sweet rain flow.

But now, good boys, strong gentlemen, take heed: 

This stuff is not for women, lost, alone;

The need is yours as well as theirs.

Take women’s wisdom for your own.

Take sorrow’s loan and let your own cares free

Christ, give it a try!

Not to learn how to weep is, lost fool,

But to learn how to die.

Stand weeping there from midnight until morn,

Then from impacted wisdom shorn, set free,

Leap forth to laugh in freshborn children’s hour and shout:

Oh, damn you, maids, that’s what it’s all about?

Sweet widows with your wisdom, blast you all to hell!

Why?

Why, why God, oh why,

Why wouldn’t someone tell me about crying in the shower.

My Old Kentucky Home

Photo Credit: Whit Chandler

The best thing about the Kentucky Derby is watching the crowd, trained to roar, sing "My Old Kentucky Home." The alcohol’s been flowing for hours, beautiful women, clad in spring hats, sway and everyone proudly sings the words of their own national anthem.  At least my observation through the years; see for yourself Saturday afternoon.

Click link below to hear former Kentucky Governor Albert B. "Happy" Chandler sing his anthem.

Happy Chandler Singing My Old Kentucky Home

Yesterday, the Derby came up in conversation with a friend who grew up in the South. We compared notes about the Infield at Churchill Downs. Our chatter, post royal wedding, was on hats over horses. She told me, “Your smile is always so radiant when you talk about living in Kentucky.” 

My Old Kentucky Home

Photo Credit: Whit Chandler