Cloister Commentary, Day 307: Mengele Clippers

I have been preoccupied over the last few days with the prostate biopsy I underwent yesterday. I’d had a cardiology appointment the day before that the biopsy actually overshadowed. I have some advice for those of you who may have one in the future:

1) Don’t read up on the possible after-effects. I realize this may be difficult if you’re trying to decide to assent to one–I was pretty much ordered–but they mess with one’s imagination, wake you up in the middle of the night, and make you paranoid. Besides, after the procedure they will tell you about these effects in detail anyway. They are rare, you take meds before during, and after to prevent them, and the ones I experienced were dwarfed by my imaginings.

2) You will be told about a device that is used to collect a sample of your prostate. What you will not be told is that this device, when in use, sounds like something invented by Josef Mengele (I am not kidding). As it is used on you, you may be skeptical that you will emerge with a prostate at all. Its snap is worse than its bite, however. It smarts, but doesn’t last that long.

3) I didn’t read the instructions on the required Fleets Enema until it was time to use it. Absence of specific pronouns in the directions plus concerns about my flexibility caused me to consider, with great trepidation, whether I would need to employ Nicole. I am happy to say that, though I am only slightly less stiff than Mike Pence, I managed. And if I could, you can. If I couldn’t have? I am fortunate enough to be loved enough.

4) One of my biggest concerns was having my agéd butt stared at, not just by a doctor but also the inevitable nurse. Don’t ask me why I was worried the urologist’s assistant would be a woman (I do not assume one would be)! However, I should have been more worried about a different part of my anatomy. She indeed was a woman, and, to my instant horror, she first asked me to take off my shoes and socks. I had not treated myself to my annual toenail clip, and when she saw my naked feet, I swear I saw her freeze. Nicole had reassured me prior to the procedure when I told her I was worried about farting, “Phil, they’ve seen everything, believe me!” Maybe not quite everything.

5) You will be numbed up, but “just to take the edge off,” the assistant corrected me; I was hoping to go under, but no dice. It is not like getting a crown or a filling; you are much less numb. Still, you are asked to have a ride to and from the procedure. In spite of my being completely unaltered as I walked out of the clinic, the echo of the Mengele Clippers was ringing so loudly in my ears that, when I walked out to Nicole’s car and tried to open the door, I heard the locks click. “This isn’t your car,” the horrified woman’s bulging eyes yelled to me. Oops. Nicole had not yet arrived. I awkwardly waved, bowed in apology, and crawfished hurriedly back to the clinic doors. Words of wisdom: stay focused when you’re in the parking lot!

The events of the day, even William Zabka‘s brilliance in Cobra Kai (Nicole calls him “The Lost Overeem Brother), paled in comparison to my trip to the urologist. But as I told my friend Rex, I basically Samantha-blinked and it was over–it hurts more than a colonoscopy (which does not hurt at all), but lasts a fifth the duration. Bottoms up!

Streaming for Strivers:

Message from the cosmos: “Send more Gil Scott Heron!”

Cloister Commentary, Day 306: Inauguration 2021

The previous president was someone I detested long before he ran. I’ve not ever been a fan of bullies, narcissists, racists, con men, boors, liars, cheats, and infantile adults, and he was all of that and more sadness in one package. In short, he was the opposite of everything I’ve striven (and am still striving) to be. Figuratively, I’ve been holding my nose for four years, but also trying to figure out his appeal without thinking ill of my fellow Americans–and, yes, at times, trying to understand the immense personal unhappiness that’s led to the man’s present state. He is human; as I told my students the day after the 2016 election, he’s someone’s son, father, husband. But I was forced to reevaluate my perception of others, including family, and I failed to reach that understanding. I am very glad he is gone from my daily sight and earshot, and I’m ready to fight myself back to a less cynical position.

I was at work editing student papers and at the doctor’s during the inauguration ceremony; I wanted to watch it in real time with Nicole and everyone else–I think I would have felt it more. I also was very distracted. Catching up via video later, I was deeply moved by Amanda Gorman’s poem and Kamala Harris’ swearing-in. Today, I’ll check out Biden’s address and the musical performances. Still, a lingering uneasiness about January 6 and the Herculean tasks ahead of us–several of which preceded the previous president (though he made them much more difficult)–has me in an anhedoniacal state. Look it up. I think it’s a word.

Streaming for Survivors:

But for now…once again (or was it ever?)…

Cloister Commentary, Day 305: Doorknobs and Derrières

It’s a busy morning now, so I will make this brief.

I spent much of my day intending to sample Euphoria to see if it would be a good series for Nicole and I to adopt in the future–and ended up bingeing. Then because I was caught up in how her day went (first day back with in-seat education) and getting dinner prepared (a Pasta La Fata kit of ravioli and arancini), I forgot to tell her. That show is…an adult dose, which is an ironic phrase, but its compassion far exceeds its extreme vision. I think she will like it–plus she once sampled a show for us that she and my mom called “historical porn,” the name of which I can’t remember, but I haven’t seen it yet.

I should have much more to say tomorrow. I recall what my dad said when we got married: “Don’t let the doorknob hit you in the ass.”

Streaming for Survivors:

Needed something for just the right energy this morning. Found it.

Cloister Commentary, Day 304: Good Morning, America?

One ritual my mom and I observe when I’m visiting is watching Good Morning America together. The show’s hosts are relatively down to earth, seldom seem to be forcing bonhomie, and exhibit actual personality. Also, I’ve observed that people with diastemas have special qualities, and Michael Strahan seems to support that observation. Still, they have great difficulty maintaining the tone suggested by the show’s title when video, audio, and stills from the Capitol Insurrection are laced through it like concertina wire. I give them credit for trying.

I traveled the road back home to Columbia, where Nicole met me with a kiss, a hug, and spaghetti. She was tensely preparing to return to in-seat teaching in the midst of what every credible source is calling a pandemic out of control, but she had time for warmth and humor in welcoming me back. I’m nervous, too. As per usual lately, I resorted to sports as an escape; I’m disgusted with the Harden trade, but somehow I’m still drawn to watch the Nets. I’m that much of a Durantula fan, I guess.

We learned mid-evening that Nicole’s mom’s devoted and spirited rat terrier Jack passed away. When Lynda died in 2013, our friends George and Susie Frissell agreed to adopt him and were great parents for his remaining seven years. George regularly took him on walks, encouraged him to chase squirrels, and sent us “fireside fotos” (Jack loved that spot). The last time we saw him was in early 2020, when we took him and our recently departed hound Louis for a walk around Stephens Lake Park. Tell me, is it still 2020?

Streaming for Strivers:

Suffering and smiling–that seems to be the ticket.

Cloister Commentary, Day 302: Why Is That!

Reported yesterday by KOMU 8:

“The Columbia/Boone County Public Health and Human Services will not move forward to allow Phase 1B – Tier 2 to be able to get a COVID-19 vaccine on Monday, despite activation of the tier from the Missouri Department of Health and Senior Services.

“‘Our department is not (moving forward), but it’s my understanding that no other vaccinator in the county is either including the hospital systems,” Ashton Day, a Boone County Health Department Health Educator, said. “We simply just do not have the vaccine supply to move ahead to that.'”

Patience, yes. Yes, we understand patience.

Why don’t they have the supply? It’s a rhetorical question as far as the comment section is concerned.

Streaming for Strivers:

Listened to Maxinquaye yesterday for the first time in maybe 15 years and it sounded like a completely different album. You never step into the same album twice. So…

Cloister Commentary, Day 301: Staying Up Late

On the fly. Looks like a “list day.”

1) Gained some insight on Mom’s shoulder problems, so there’s a glow at tunnel’s end.

2) As a student teacher supervisor for Mizzou, I’m responsible for hosting an initial meeting with the intern and her host teacher. The latter happens to be my esteemed former student Jordan Smith. These meetings usually last 45-60 minutes; the three of us had so much fun talking about teaching ours stretched to two hours! Long live The Academy of Rock….

https://youtu.be/Q6DHWEii8eo

3) Mom and I chose Steven Soderberg’s Let Them All Talk as our Movie Night subject. Streep, Bergen, and Wiest, plus that director–how could it not be good? It is impressive–the dialogue’s near 100% improvised, Soderberg’s own camerawork is fascinating, and Bergen’s a trip–but…it is not good. The title? Very good!

4) I decided to stay up a little later to make sure Mom got to sleep ok, and I’m suffering mild basketball burnout, so I stream-surfed to Euphoria, which I’ve heard and read so much about, and sampled the first episode. I’m interested in readers’ take on it; it’s very powerful, but I’m honestly not sure I can handle the whole series. The soundtrack alone, however, was enough to keep me interested.

5) If I ever wrote a poem about abstract expressionism, like Frank O’Hara I think I’d write it about Grace Hartigan.

Streaming for Strivers:

Mood.

Cloister Commentary, Day 300: The 6th Sustenance and Succor Awards!

Every 50 days of the pandemic, I’ve tried to shine light on the stuff that’s been guiding Nicole and I through these ever-more difficult days. It’s hell out there so it’s hard to see that little glow at the tunnel’s rear….

BEST ANTI-COVID-BLUES RECORDINGS:

Belle & Sebastian: What to Look for in Summer (this summer? One hopes!)

75 Dollar Bill Big Band: Live at Tubby’s (Big band? Yes, big band!)

Madvillain: Madvillainy (it’s more about heroics….)

BEST ANTI-COVID-BLUES SHOWS:

Small Axe (a stone masterpiece in five installments)

All Creatures Great and Small (PBS reboot–definitely in our wheelhouse; hell, in our house!)

The Bee Gees: How Do You Mend a Broken Heart?

BEST ANTI-COVID-BLUES BOOKS:

Mary Gabriel: Ninth Street Women

Wright Thompson: Pappyland – A Story of Fine Bourbon, Family, and the Things That Last

Various Writers: The Decameron Projects – 29 Stories from the Pandemic

BEST ANTI-COVID-BLUES EATS:

India’s House (The Columbia curbside stars of our isolation!)

Bangkok Gardens

Pasta La Fata

I told a friend yesterday: “Great art is definitely the best and most reliable escape right now. It’s really not even an escape.” That, and great food savored in a sliver of time. I hope art and food have helped others, too; feel free to share your award-winners.

Streaming for Strivers:

For my friends Ben, Vance, and…all of us? The most curious kind of bears.

Cloister Commentary, Day 299: Tough Nut in My Head

Yesterday was Day 2 of Nicole and I brainstorming strategies by which we can cohabit healthily once she is back to in-person learning (Tuesday). If we just had a kitchenette downstairs and a full bathroom, and knew when the vaccine was coming (will our state government, indifferent if not hostile for a good long while toward public education, even consider teachers essential?), that would be a big help. That is not all–I’m not going to belabor this, but it is one tough nut to crack.

We did most of this in the evening, though some ideas we discussed when Nicole had a break from work; I don’t want to give anyone the idea she was lounging around on a work day. In spite of the risk, she’s even looking forward to seeing students–I can’t imagine a teacher who’s not.

Other things:

I cooked some jalapeño and cheese curd stuffed hot links from Barred Owl’s butcher shop for dinner. Damn.
My heart sank as I learned of a moronic multi-player and -team trade that cut out the youthful heart of the Nets’ bench and dealt them an extra prima donna. It’s hard to rely on anything these days beyond loved ones and art.
I received two copies of Third Man’s Maggot Brain magazine and thoroughly enjoyed two pieces on the sui generis musician Louis Thomas Hardin, also known as Moondog.

Streaming for Strivers:

For me at least, a fresh revelation, featuring some outstanding players.

Cloister Commentary, Day 298: New Rules, Mob Rules

I apologize for losing it a bit yesterday. I get a little angsty when angry mobs threaten violence and/or lawsuits if they don’t get what they want, and it was twice in two weeks. I know I just need to get over it.

We opened the day by meditating, taking a walk (we got another in in the afternoon), and discussing the immediate future. So many things are imperative to be dealt with intelligently it makes one’s head spin. Nicole of course taught all day; I battled what felt like was an allergy attack but deepened my knowledge of the history of abstract expressionism, got prepped to supervise student teachers, and finally gave my undivided attention to Chloe X Halle’s sophomore album (pretty damn strong–those kids are serious).

I talked to my mom and she’s finally got an appointment with an orthopedic specialist to address the tear in her left shoulder. I’d hoped to travel down and at least be with her, but that would be too risky under our new circumstances.

After dinner, I kept one eye on the Brooklyn – Denver NBA game and read Robert Hughes essays on Pollock, Rothko, Warhol, and Schnabel (strong stuff!). Nicole kept working on school. Did you know teachers still routinely put 10-12 hours a day teaching virtually? You didn’t? Well, now you do.

Streaming for Strivers:

Your flag decal really won’t get you into any kind of heaven anymore.

Cloister Commentary, Day 297: Thanks. A Lot.

I can’t tell you how delightful it is to hear parents in our community yell that teachers are lazy. I notice the masses are not rushing forth to apply for teaching jobs. Oh…but it’s child care, right? I forgot.

I can’t tell you how delightful it is to watch a school board (each member of which I voted for) vote 5-2 to send students back full time when our positivity rate is 35%, we are still racking up over 100 new cases a day TThWFSat, when deaths by COVID are mounting, when virtual education, while not perfect, is available. Better to risk some lives than grind it out with a vaccine in the offing.

I am oh so delighted you’re putting the love of my life at more daily risk, and forcing us to figure out how to better live together more safely in our own house. If it were just you all gambling, cool–it’s on you. We didn’t have a choice.

I am even more delighted that, approaching 60 and with some health concerns that may put me further at risk, and with an 83-year-old mother who’s been recently widowed and is living alone in her house for the first time in 40 years who I like to visit regularly, I will now have to be even more vigilant in my own home and inform Mom that it’ll be awhile.

Thanks a lot.

Streaming for Strivers:

How about an obscure one?