January 04, 2010

Diaristic Wanderings

'Tis disturbing, that last day of vacation gestern. The long line of kings has ended, the last whistle blown on the sportescapade. Watched OSU (per current local law) and a bit of the U.C. Bearcats on Friday. I pictured a long sloe gin buzz of drinks stretching nursedly along the I-4:00-10pm corridor, assuming I didn't overvisit that particular highway on New Year's Eve. I captained my living room chair for an extended period of time yesterday, stiff-arming any idea of going out to pick up dinner. The last day of vacation I was in the comfort zone, suckling the glass teat, listening to the dulcet tones of Michelle Malkin on C-Span's In-Depth interspersed with a satisfying Cavs game and an unsatisfying Bengals game (Bengals were blown out early). The famous couchus potatous gene must've gotten passed down in my y chromosome.

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Felt a sort of bifocal love, both horizontal and vertical, in the receiving of the Eucharist at the Byzantine liturgy. Felt gratitude towards the Deacon merely in his instrumentality of giving me so great a gift, and, of course for Christ himself. The miracles in the gospel are not about us believing Jesus can cure diseases of the flesh so much but that we might believe He can cure diseases of the spirit.
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I see Betty Duffy has one of her typically lively posts accentuated this time by a bull staring you straight-ways with the quote "You're on a Freight Train Headed for the Blues". Now that's what I'm talking about.

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Enbrethiliel posts about bad Catholics now and then, and one of my "favorite" bad Catholics is the puzzling convicted spy Robert Hanssen. Despite his myriad crimes, I think of him primarily as a traditionalist Catholic. Solitary confinement, 23 of every 24 hours. How is he faring mentally? I search the Internet, feeling as if I have a personal stake. I'm greatly relieved to learn that the Supermax prison is not draconian; the prisoners all have cable TV and distractions like bingo and jeopardy. (Well, Bingo is another matter...) They can yell to cellmates and be heard, so despite the solitary adjective there is still some human contact.

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'Twas hyp-mo-tizing to hear Willie Nelson live-in-concert on New Year's Eve in little (I assume it's little) Carl's Corner, TX. Modern technology is amazing. He sounded real, in other words like he'd had a few, and I thought his heart was so much more in the blues numbers than his own hits, which he seemed to hurry through like getting in from out the rain.

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At water aerobics last week I witnessed the fragility to which we are subject: wick-thin Sarah (not her real name), with a surface and body strong as tensile steel, had gained weight, mostly in her breasts (I did not fail to notice). Her typically boyish figure had become more noticeably feminine but at a personal cost - her busted knee had crashed her exercise routine for six months. To become overly dependent on exercise is to depend on the body and it's structural integrity. She talked about going through the steps of grief: denial, acceptance, etc... This formerly energetic, extroverted young woman rarely went anywhere or did anything for months, plunged into dark depression.

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Current reads include but do not occlude: Cincinnatus by R. McClure, The Book of Basketball by Bill Simmons, Drood by Dan Simmons, Isaiah: interpreted by early Christian and medieval commentators - by Robert Louis Wilken. I keep looking around for my Lydia Davis book without success.


BettyDuffy said...

Who are the cute kids? And where'd my poem go?...made me feel famous for a minute.

TS said...

That's me & my sis, taken a few hundred years ago. :-) And oh yeah, the poem...I took it down since the post was 28.2% more self-indulgent than usual, thus just missing the cut. But since you noticed, I'll re-post.

Enbrethiliel said...


I was going to ask about the kids, too, but since that question has been answered I'll go straight to my next one . . .

It's Twelfth Night 2010, TS! Where are your 2009 Babes of St. Blogs???

TS said...

I have been dilatory haven't I?

Here's what I have so far:

January - Mrs. D:

"Flaxen, waxen..."
the lyrics come to mind
"shinin', gleamin'..."

February - Enbrethiliel

En-breath for short,
a spirit moves
her blogs alive
with sharpest cheddar.