Cloister Commentary, Day 336: Restlessness

Early in the morning, I learned that a former student of mine had been killed, and another former student of mine was allegedly involved. Not a happy start. Teaching the former when she was 12 and the latter when he was 15, I had excellent experiences with both. I last saw the victim early last year when our paths crossed at Gerbes; as usual, she was full of enthusiasm and kindness. My heart is with her family and friends. The loss is a shocking one.

I was so restless for a project and a distraction that I engaged in something really pointless: I emptied my 16g iPod Nano (we have three MP3 players, and they are each meticulously programmed with a completely different set of folders of music–madness, I know), then refilled it with all the “miscellaneous” folders of single tracks I’ve created in each genre folder on my external drive. On top of those, I dragged in some of my favorite various artist comps. I did not create any folders; my intention was to create a random jukebox of favorite but not necessarily famous songs. As soon as I was finished, I was immediately unsatisfied. Back to tinkering today. I didn’t even try it out.

When Nicole got home from school, we made up for our postponed Valentine’s Day with a Shakespeare’s pizza, some homemade vanilla ice milk, and both a new and an old movie: Nomadland and Thelma and Louise. Two terrific road movies–we didn’t plan that–that are seemingly quite different but with strong similarities at their hearts.

Streaming for Survivors:

Why hadn’t I heard of this until this morning?

Cloister Commentary, Day 282: Home Again

Nicole and I headed back home yesterday after a holiday with my mom and my brother and sister-in-law. I knew Nicole would do so with no problem, but I’d worried how successfully I would be able to stay masked (other than being outdoors and sleeping and eating) for the whole visit. It’s not that I didn’t want to; I’m simply too present-minded, meaning my mind’s so full of everything important I need to attend to that I can forget the most important task. I would give myself an A-. It has been a very, very hard year for all of us and we needed to be together.

On the ride home, we listened to the audiobook of Wright Thompson’s terrific Pappyland. I’ve recently mentioned it, but if you have a gift card for a bookstore, think about this one. It’s about the famous Pappy Van Winkle line of bourbons, but it’s also about fathers and sons and so much more. I was dazzled and stunned by a passage in which Thompson links Rick Telander, Bruce Springsteen, and Thomas Merton as if that would be as natural as spring water running downhill.

We kicked back in the evening with a Shakespeare’s pizza, a glass, some music, and Christmas gifts. I fiddled with a new Inspire “health watch” as Nicole warned, “Nerd Alert!”

Streaming for Strivers:

I have the cassette.

Cloister Commentary, Day 234: Is There Life on Mars?

Well, it was nice to have two anxiety-free days. I have never seen a regime like this–gambling their dignity and credibility on kleptocratic success. This stuff just makes me wonder if there’s life on Mars.

Anyway. I had a nice morning at work editing. It’s so enjoyable when what you’re editing is interesting. A writer friend asked me to edit the syllabus and statement of philosophy for his course proposal, and I was very humbled to have been asked. Both documents made me want to take the class (on avant garde jazz), and they were so skillful I had to bear down to make any substantial suggestions (nothing’s perfect–the editor’s mantra). After I’d returned the documents, my friend informed me the school in question is Princeton! Holy sh*t!!!

Nicole and I grabbed a Shakespeare’s pizza curbside (green olives, red onions, fresh mushrooms, pepper cheese–the veggie Overeem Special), then spent the evening reading and relaxing to the musical inventions of Horace Silver, Ray Charles, Skip James, and The Southern Tones.

We awakened at 3 this morning to learn the Columbia Public School Board was wise, given our current COVID explosion: virtuality til January 19, 2021.

Streaming for Strivers:

As the kids and Charles Young say, “Mood.”

Cloister Commentary, Day 129: Snores

I snore. Sometimes so badly–especially if I sleep deeply–that my throat’s raw in the morning. Yesterday morning, morning was 3:30 a.m.; I’d already driven Nicole out, my uvula felt swollen to twice its normal size, and I was buzzing with anxiousness about ten imperatives. Got up, drank some ice-cold water, took an ibuprofen, drank a cup of coffee, tried to read, and performed a rarity, for me: I went back to sleep after I’d gotten up. Took a nap in the afternoon, too. Still didn’t feel all the way charged–maybe 73%–and even a Shakespeare’s veggie “Overeem Special” (double mushrooms, onions, pepper cheese, and green olives) didn’t help. Really, the only thing powering me through the day at all was a steady diet of stride and boogie woogie piano records, several of which I repeat-played.

All of my Stephens summer school students gained their freshman comp credit. A very bad research paper brought one kid in at 69.8%, a very narrow escape (a C- is required to pass). I do not know if I will have a class next semester, and, if I do, how I will have it.

We are without a show. Normally, I do not need escapes. Sometimes, I think I’m quite the opposite: I want to confront reality more fully, more specifically. But damn this summer, you know? So we sampled a couple we thought might delight, distract, and amuse us, Toast of London and Space Force. There’s nothing like watching a fruitlessly striving comedy produce barely a smile, and no outward laughter, especially twice in a row. On the plus side, the two episodes drove us out to the front room to read.

Today will be better. I am going to will it so.

Streaming for Survivors:

Finger-buster on the 88s. For Nicole.