"Letters to Miss Emily..."

[RedDog]

I won't discuss itchy bottoms but I will acknowledge a flag on a front porch. I love that about America. You NEVER see a flag on a home here except for mine in a window on the 4th of July and always through the World Series. It was also there from quite some time following 09-11-01. There are flags on some farms and ranches on poles but usually Alberta flags in those cases. Canadian flags are generally seen at government facilities and schools, where somebody is paid union rate to put it up so they don't count.

Speaking of 09-11-01, WTC-1 exceeded the Empire State Building yesterday and is now the highest structure in NYC.

[backhoe]

I won't discuss itchy bottoms but I will acknowledge a flag on a front porch. I love that about America. You NEVER see a flag on a home here except for mine in a window on the 4th of July and always through the World Series. It was also there from quite some time following 09-11-01. There are flags on some farms and ranches on poles but usually Alberta flags in those cases. Canadian flags are generally seen at government facilities and schools, where somebody is paid union rate to put it up so they don't count.

Speaking of 09-11-01, WTC-1 exceeded the Empire State Building yesterday and is now the highest structure in NYC.

In reverse order? WTC-1 will go real nice with that mosque they seem to be building nearby. I despair for my country- we got so "diverse" our brains fell out... open minded, that's us...



The flag? One of MaryAnn's that her Vernon had stashed away. I also have a stars & stripes windsock flying over the front gate-

--I love my country, most- not all-- of my countrymen, and the idea & ideal of America- it's the GD government that is the problem.

...and itchy bottoms? I always thought that "I got it from the cat" was a tall tale, but I really don't think she was screwing anybody at work. And it doesn't matter now, does it? and if she was I hope she enjoyed the Hell out of it- I sure didn't enjoy treating her red, raw arse. But I did it, by God.

Like a lot of things you do in a marriage- with a smile on my face and a few questions I left unvoiced.

[RedDog]

The view down from the corner of Church and Vesey in lower Manhattan.

[backhoe]

Cole got to chase the Curbmaster off and tree a squirrel so his morning was complete- I took the chainsaw to another of Emily's snake-harboring bushes and the space created would serve for more flowers- why not?

When I broke to go shopping I needed a diverse enough number of things to justify the run to Wal-Mart and ran into that nice Miss Tijuana on her way to their break room. I will never forget the kindness she extended to me in some of the darkest times after losing Emily. Some folks are just inherently decent people.

It was time to gas the Mitz again and darned if it's mileage was no better than the truck's best- probably all the stop & go diving around town. Time for lunch & more arthritis medicine. Blast it.

[backhoe]

Gee, ain't it funny how time slips away?

I heard back from Miss MaryAnn on facebook & in emails and after composing & sending replies realized with a start that it's technically past the time she was supposed to vacate that old office of hers & that I had left her handcart and a fan & chair she wanted me to have inside the foyer. I didn't pick them up last Friday because I was afraid The Kid would bust loose out of the truck while I was loading it.

I had intended to go back and get them without the Kid in tow, and time just got away from me. I suppose I ought to go & get them.

Without getting too much in to personal stuff she is wondering what to do with Vernon's ashes- I told her my story about Emily's and why she ended up being buried with her animals instead of scattered in the river at Honey Creek. And tried to convey to her that if she needed my help with that or other things I am available.

I don't know what you do with your dead... throw 'em down in the ground, scatter them to the four winds or over the sea? They stay with you, a hole in your heart and your being-ness.

They haunt you- a raw & bleeding edge at first, then a gentler presence of something you loved so dear, forever out of reach- “Gone, forever, to the Sea.”

But they are always with you. A legion of ghosts walking along with you- no one can see them but you, but there they are-- not like you saw them in that last moment when Death came to fetch them but young & strong & handsome & pretty again... just one little thing?

They are the dead.

The holes in your heart you carry with you.

-30-

[RedDog]

Scattering of ashes is illegal in Alberta but everyone knows it happens. I think it's one of those "don't ask, don't tell" unspoken understandings over which I've never heard of anyone being charged.

[backhoe]

Scattering of ashes is illegal in Alberta but everyone knows it happens. I think it's one of those "don't ask, don't tell" unspoken understandings over which I've never heard of anyone being charged.

The regulations we have down here regarding the disposal of a corpse were originally designed to avoid the spread of disease- six feet under ground, the casket set inside a concrete vault ( Which amusingly enough is a modified septic tank- the same companies who sell septic tanks make the vaults... ) with a concrete lid sealed with bitumen.

As far as I know there are no laws regarding disposal of ashes since they can't by definition spread disease- one of the creepier "services" the funeral homes offer is to make paperweights out of your loved ones ashes.

And if, perhaps, you want to keep old Uncle Joe on the mantle to cuss out or talk to they are happy to sell you an expensive decorative urn to keep the old bastard handy...

A personal note of amusement? My Mom wanted her ashes scattered in the river at Honey Creek back in 2003, since that's where Emily was working. We went down the dock, down the ladder to the floating dock, Deacon Jim- the last decent boss Emily had- said the Episcopal service, tears were shed, a hymn sung by the three of us...

I opened the urn, scattered Mom's ashes to the water- and the wind picked up most of them and blew them all over my pants and shoes...

Oh, great! I'm wearing Alice's ashes... Mom, you could be such a pain in the ass- I guess that was her final joke on me.

[RedDog]

My father's ashes are in a space on a wall in Groton, Connecticut. I recall during the internment service that he was a lot lighter than I imagined holding the urn. There is a Boston Red Sox flag and a Texas flag there.

[backhoe]

My father's ashes are in a space on a wall in Groton, Connecticut. I recall during the internment service that he was a lot lighter than I imagined holding the urn. There is a Boston Red Sox flag and a Texas flag there.

My Dad's ashes were scattered in the ocean in front of his house at 102 Hamilton street ( Blessed circuitousness or irony- MaryAnn wants to scatter Vernon's at the deck there- the only thing left of my home... ) and I was amazed by how heavy they were- he was just average-sized.

Mom's were light as a feather. And Emily's? Kind of heavy- I still think her story that she had gotten from 230 pounds to 160 was a tall tale. Kinda like that poison ivy story... but? It will work out in the end.

"May we meet again, in a better world than this one..."

[backhoe]

Housekeeping notes, 5-2-2012

Well, that was amusing- Cole our border collie just got a $2 check in the mail from some Parkinson's disease foundation. I frequently use his name- or one of my dear dead folks-- to answer things. Somebody is selling a mailing list somewhere.

We are currently holding forth from the front porch- the heat is coming but so far fans & open windows & doors are adequate for cooling.

Earlier I set forth on a great circle run sans Cole-boy, since I had many stops to make. Cut a check for the trash pickup and dropped it at the PO to avoid the chance it might get boosted & cloned from my mailbox. Went to the Winn-Dixie on 341- alas they have been homogenized to be like all the others- no Octagon soap. I even tried Fred's down the road and $#@!-d if they didn't have virtually the same mix of bar soaps- probably use the same buying service.

I tried Home Depot & then Lowe's to see if I could find and 8 inch wheel with a wider tread for the mower's front caster assembly- no luck there. I thought about buzzing Jim Wilson's shop again but decided to finish shopping & get back home to check on house & kid.

“We”had a light lunch of half a grilled cheese sandwich and leftover tomato soup, stretched out and promptly feel into drool sleep for half an hour. Had an X-rated dream about.... MaryAnn! Dear God, JR you are too old for such things. Or maybe old enough you ought to know better.

I must be having a flareup of that blasted rheumatoid arthritis again- both feet really hurt & my hands are kind of weak- an extra Ascriptin seemed to take the edge off the worst of it.

I reckon I ought to take the truck- again, sans Cole-- and get that cart & chair & fan from MaryAnn's old office today.

I thought a lot about Emily on that great circle run- about all the changes I have made & seen, the miles I've pulled since last I saw her. It wasn't so much sad as it was an acknowledgment that things are irreversibly altered. Gone, indeed, forever to the Sea.

I do know if I were the dead one and she were the one left standing alive & alone on the Good Earth I'd be perched on her shoulder telling her to get out and live. She had far too much to give and to offer- yes, to another man- to hide it under a bushel.

I guess I ought to bounce over to the Island in that rough-riding truck of mine & fetch those items. Maybe I should fill a vase with flowers in case The Widow MaryAnn is accepting visitors & stop by on the way home.

-30-

[backhoe]

For my wider audience- yes, I have observed the same thing:http://pjmedia.com/instapundit/

THE SERIOUS PROBLEM OF “HIPSTER RACISM.” Only bad people are racist. Hipsters are inherently good. Therefore, hipster racism is inconceivable. Plus, comparing charges of racism to McCarthyism.http://www.latimes.com/news/nation/nationnow/la-na-nn-hipster-racism-20120501,0,6458290.story

UPDATE: A reader emails:

If you use this, please don’t use my name.

I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s noticed this phenomenon. Here in Nashville, we have a neighborhood called “East Nashville” that is filled with hipster racism. White twenty- and thirty-somethings move in to the neighborhood where $400,000 houses sit across the street from cinder-block four-plexes, and down the street from some of the most violent projects in Nashville. The white kids love, love to talk about how morally superior they are to those of us who moved to the suburbs to escape Nashville’s failing schools because they live in a “diverse” neighborhood. And they say this while sitting next to their Prius that has bumper stickers that say “Over the river and through the hood” or “We’ll steal your heart…and your lawnmower.”

None of them know the names of their black neighbors, and those neighbors are never invited to any of the parties these kids have. I have always gotten a sense that they have the attitude that because they live “in the hood” they can say whatever they want. They have paid for their indulgences by living in the proper zip code.

The thing to remember about race-talk in contemporary America is that it’s mostly a status/power thing among various groups of white people. Any actual benefit to any actual minority groups is coincidental.

UPDATE: Boy they’re really down on the hipsters in East Nashville. Another reader writes:

Anonymous here too if you use it.

Ooohhh the smug moral superiority coming from the East Nashville hipsters is nauseating. Their Priuses and their bumper stickers and their houses that cost more than I will ever be able to afford which gives them a ten minute commute makes them much better people than the rest of us. Just ask them, they’ll tell you.

Ouch. Clearly East Nashville needs much higher property taxes. As a matter of fairness.

ANOTHER UPDATE: Another reader writes: “Thirty year resident of East Nashville here. Regarding those ’37206 – Over the river and through the hood’ bumper stickers, I want one that says ’37206 – I liked it better before you moved here.’ And yes, our mayor is asking for a property tax increase.” If you could tax smugness, the fiscal crisis would be solved.

Posted at 8:38 am by Glenn Reynolds

Emily was about the least racist person I ever knew- classism however was another matter. When she got in the higher levels of schools here she started mixing with the Island kids who looked down on her as being from the wrong side of the tracks- so she developed a rather bad attitude about Islanders. She always thought it delicious that I was a native Islander who moved to the tainted mainland for business purposes and loved pointing that out to people.

No doubt she'd see the humor in my seeing MaryAnn. Speaking of which when I got over there she & a client were at the old office so I introduced myself, loaded the gear and headed homeward after leaving the flowers on her hood- on one of Emily's bandannas...

-30-

[backhoe]

I talked to MaryAnn a short time ago & that fellow in her office was not a client but a banking consultant- it sounds like she has a shot at getting some of her problems under control. Yea, her! The ankle's not too bad but I told her to call for errand-running, things done around the house, and so forth.

I finally threw in the towel and ordered three bars of Octagon and two bars of Fells-Naptha soaps from Amazon- they kill you with shipping but so does $4 a gallon gas looking futilely here. The stuff ought to last us forever. Back in my blue-collar days I used Octagon for hand & body soap, shaving soap, and shampoo- why not again?

The circle completes after a forty year run- if I could have seen ahead? I would have been astounded by the things I saw & did in that journey.

All I'd add?

"Make the most of the hours you live..."

[RedDog]

I thought you'd like this backhoe. Buddy tosses a toy called "Green Monster" (so obviously Red Sox fans) and pooch returns to patio to owner returned from deployment. Sweet.

http://chill.com/brian/post/9070ba40239 ... bf52e3#_=_

[backhoe]

After the Kid & I turned in with the sunset we got a facebook message from Miss MaryAnn- she liked the flowers and implied she was going to scatter Vernon's ashes on Saturday the fifth- two years after he died.

I told her to tell me if she'd like me & Cole to be there and I'd bring the service we read when I put Emily's ashes in the ground with her animals:

An Order for The Burial of the Dead at Sea

From “The Ship's Medicine Chest and Medical Aid at Sea”

HEW publication number 78-2024
1978

“Because the following prayer has been highly regarded in past editions it is presented again...”

Out of the Depths I have called to Thee, O Lord

Lord, hear my prayer

Let Thine ears be attentive to the voice of my supplication

If Thou O Lord will mark my inequities?
Who shall stand it?

With Thee there is merciful forgiveness,
and I have waited for Thee

My soul hath hoped in the Lord

From the morning watch even until night
let Israel hope in the Lord

Because with Him is mercy, and plenteous redemption,
and He shall redeem Israel from all her inequities

Eternal rest grant him, O Lord

Let Light Perpetual shine upon his face

Come to his aid, ye Saints of God
Meet him, Ye Angels of the Lord
Receive his soul and present him to the most High

May Christ who called thee
Receive thee

Eternal rest grant him, O Lord
and let Light Perpetual shine upon his face

Amen, and Ahmein

“And on that Day the Sea shall give up Her dead...”

There is a history there- except for me and my father before me, all the men in my family were sailors ( And pirates & shipbreakers )...

There are few graves on land with the men of my family in them- most were weighted with 300 pounds of anchor chain & slipped over the side of their ships...

“Five fathoms five thy Father lies...”

Well, Emily had wanted a High Episcopal Church service for her funeral- crucifer & Priest, incense swinger & bible-toter, hymns & prayin' & speachifying...

All in accordance with Canon Law and all of special significance to her, her personal life and her spiritual journey.

When we got married- 28 years ago- she laid it all out for me.

Just one “Leetle Problem?” She didn't write it down- at least not anywhere I could find it when she surprised me with her instant death...

So I faked the service. I picked not something from the Book of Common Prayer or even the Jews Gates of Prayer... I pulled up a passage from an old medical book of mine for sailors.

There is something missing from that quoted passage- but I can well remember the phrase

“And on that Day the Sea shall give up Her dead...”

That's the one that always brought tears to my eye- the ranks & rosters & legions of my dead, dead babies raised from death & corruption and lifted in to the Light.

I can't say how it will be “on that Day.” I'm just an old pirate. Or maybe an angel who fell to Earth long ago and got broken.

I can only say this:

“May we all meet again, in a better place and a better time.”

-30-

[backhoe]

I thought you'd like this backhoe. Buddy tosses a toy called "Green Monster" (so obviously Red Sox fans) and pooch returns to patio to owner returned from deployment. Sweet.

http://chill.com/brian/post/9070ba40239 ... bf52e3#_=_

Nobody loves you like your dog- although cats actually do love you, you are just more like staff than owner to them.

I'm still slightly freaked out that the first time I took Cole over to MaryAnn's place when she was not home he led me straight over to that empty lot where my home once stood- to the place all my dogs & cats & birds are buried. Right next to her well.

Just a dog- with the mind of a small child- how did he know where they lay? In small, watertight mahogany boxes my Dad had made for them and I had buried- so many years ago...