Snippets

I enjoyed TV’s “Dark Winds” featuring Navajo Nation policemen Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee. The streaming show is based on Tony Hillerman’s novels, a few of which I have read and enjoyed. Hillerman said that he was indebted to British-born Australian novelist Arthur W. Upfield, a name unfamiliar to me. Upfield’s mysteries featured a “half-caste” Aboriginal-Australian detective who was found in his dead mother’s arms shortly after birth. Raised in a Christian orphanage, he is given the name Napoleon Bonaparte but nicknamed Bony. I decided to try Upfield. I could not find the first in the series at my libraries, The Barrakee Mystery (1929), but I did manage to get the second one, The Sands of Windee (1931). It was outstanding. I now understand Hillerman’s praise. Upfield and Bony should not be lost in the sands of time.

I miss some things from my previous neighborhood. At this time of year, the local movie theater played Oscar-Nominated Live Action Shorts and Oscar-Nominated Animated Shorts in separate programs. I tried to see them before the awards and make my own judgments about which should win. The live action movies are always well made with excellent production values. The credits seem just as long as for a full-length movie. I wonder each year who the audience is for these shorts. I am not aware that such shorts are shown commercially, or at least not often enough to recoup the amount of money that it must take to make them. Almost uniformly the five or so films are interesting, often with innovative stories. There is, however, one problem with the programs. I used to see movie shorts as a kid, sometimes in a theater as an interlude between the double feature. More often, though, I saw them on TV as local stations tried to find content to fill out their airtime. Often they were, or at least meant to be, humorous, such as instructional videos by Robert Benchley or “The Fatal Glass of Beer,” featuring W.C. Fields. (Everyone should see “The Fatal Glass” at least several times in their life.) Humor, however, in the nominated live action shorts is in short supply. I guess to be nominated a film must be serious business. Although there might be a quirky film, most explored grief, tragedy, abortion restrictions, teenage suicide, and so on. Almost all were remarkably good in writing, directing, and acting. They were affecting—so much so, that I often had troubled sleep the night after I went to the theater. The animated shorts were often the reverse—mostly light and humorous but with an occasional dark one. One year, before the final animated short was shown, a theater manager came out and said that all children should be taken out of the auditorium. The film was too disturbing for the youngsters. He was right. It had graphic nudity and graphic violence. This year I have only seen one of the nominated films, a live action movie that was shown on Netflix entitled “Singers.” It was both dark and uplifting…an interesting combination.

There are movements to get rid of daylight savings time, although proposals differ. Some want to return to God’s time when at noon the sun is overhead. Others want to have permanent daylight savings time without the twice-yearly shift. (No more Spring forward, Fall back.)  But what we should really remember is what a wise person said: “The best way to save daylight is to use it.”

The Planted Face

“Everything is funny as long as it is happening to someone else.” Will Rogers.

My ball was thirty yards from the cup, but it had a steep uphill, sidehill lie. I hit my pitch—not surprisingly for me, not very well. I turned to return to the golf cart five yards away, but my foot caught the uphill grass. I knew instantly that I was about to plant my face on the downhill turf without being able to break the fall.

Tony, my playing partner, came over to assist me, but I got up more easily than I expected. I took stock. My nose was not broken. Blood was not gushing from the nostrils, as I had expected. I apparently had landed on the bottom of my forehead, not the middle of my face. My glasses had slightly gouged the space between my eyebrows and pushed hard into my cheeks right below my eyes. No blood poured off me but seeped from the gouged place and from a cut on my lip, but overall, I did not feel terrible. No major aches and pains. We continued on with our nine holes with me dabbing at the oozing blood with a golf towel that by happenstance had been freshly laundered.

I bailed on my usual lunch with Tony after golf and headed home. The spouse looked up from her reading as I stepped on the porch, and after explanations, she swung into nursing mode. Band-Aids, gauze, and adhesive tape were applied. She went to CVS to get more supplies, and I got additional medical attention. I looked in the mirror and so much had been applied to my face, I looked like Hannibal Lecter. Eventually, the seeping blood stopped.

The next day I carefully removed the dressings and decided not all had to be reapplied. I went to the mirror to assess. No pretty boy looks were in attendance. I had that gouge between the eyebrows. My nose was discolored and even more bulbous than usual, as if I had lifted it from W.C. Fields. I had a cut lip and a black and blue mark bruise on my chin. Most noticeable, however, were two black eyes with a significant mouse below the left one as if I had been hit with a heavyweight hook in the second round. There was no way to hide my racoon face except with a ski mask, which was not seasonally appropriate.

People were going to ask what happened. When that first happened, I said, “Don’t ask, but you should see her.” Then I tried, “The Pennsylvania barmaids are really fierce.” And then, “Next time I will give Tony the three-and-a-half-foot putt.” (I am convinced that three-and-a-half is funnier than three-foot or four-foot, but I don’t know why.) However, I am on blood thinners, and I will have the discolorations for a long time. I will be needing some more snappy come-backs.

Snippets

I went to the doctor for a flu shot. When I made the appointment, I also said that I was concerned about shortness of breath. When I saw the doctor, I also told him that I had what is commonly know as “trigger finger” and about a recurrent pain that might be sciatica. Then the doctor said that he called this a “manly” visit. A woman, he said, would have come to him separately for each issue when it arose. The man, instead, decides to get a flu shot and then thinks, “I am going to the doctor. What else should I ask him about?”

One fury has God found inexpungeable:

The wrath of a woman who finds herself fungible.

                    William Espy

Donald J. Trump does not have a pet, but there must be a professional dog trainer in the White House. Mike Pence responds to the command “Heel!” better than any hound I have ever seen.

There were four million people in the Colonies, and we had Jefferson and Paine and Franklin. Now we have over three-hundred million and we have Trump and Pence. What wisdom can you draw from that? Darwin was wrong.

If ignorance is bliss, why does Trump seem so angry and unhappy?

Does this story have applicability today? A woman supposedly said to John Maynard Keynes that she wondered what David Lloyd George was like when he was alone in a room.  Keynes responded, “When Lloyd George is alone, there is no one there.”

Perhaps this phrase ascribed to a soldier in Iraq applies to our country today: “So screwed up it was like pasting feathers together, hoping for a duck.”

Pat Paulson, when he “ran” for President said, “Issues have no place in politics.  They only confuse matters.” I wonder, however, if he would still say, “The current system is rigged so that only the majority can seize control.”

The license plate holder on a nice-looking Genesis registered in Florida said: “Beautiful” Naples, Florida. I wondered about the quotation marks. Is it ironic or facetious to call Naples “beautiful?”

“If at first you don’t succeed, destroy all evidence that you tried.” Newt Heilcher

“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Then quit. No use being a damn fool about it.” W.C. Fields

I am trying to expand my vocabulary, so I am going around saying, “The president’s rodomontade is rebarbative.”

“It’s better to keep one’s mouth shut and be thought a fool than open it and resolve all doubt.” Abraham Lincoln