“The lie of time. Everything I’ve done and everything I’ve been is present in the same place. But we still think the thing that has just happened, or is about to happen, we think that’s the most important thing. My memories aren’t memories, my present isn’t present, it’s all the same thing,
Osman, Richard. The Last Devil to Die (A Thursday Murder Club Mystery) (p. 242). Penguin Publishing Group.
On my birthday, the 49ers lost. I’d hate to think of this as a recurring theme in my life.
That morning I woke up to phone calls and birthday messages from my daughter Jessica, son Jason and his family, Hayden, my sister Maryann and brother-in-law George, Peter, Barrie, Annmarie, and several others.
While waiting to leave for my birthday dinner, we watched the movie “Cop Land,” starring the likes of Stallone, De Niro, Keitel, Liotta, and more, set in New Jersey and New York. It was a good movie but a bit slow and ponderous. I couldn’t help but think it could have used a better director, perhaps someone like Scorsese. Despite the blood and corruption in the film, it made me nostalgic for New York. I had known many New York cops during my time there and was well aware of the city’s grittiness. As I pondered, I couldn’t help but mutter, “My memories aren’t just memories, and my present isn’t quite the present; it’s all a bit of a blur.” I’m not entirely convinced that’s a good thing.
Later, we headed to a restaurant called Namaste Sacramandu, a Nepalese/Indian restaurant that we love, for my birthday dinner. Naida’s two daughters, their husbands, and Hayden joined us. The food was delicious, and the company was delightful. We chatted about food and shared travel stories.
After dinner, Hayden kindly drove Naida and me back home and then headed back to EDH. Naida and I settled in to watch TV until bedtime. Thus I marked the beginning of my 85th year.
On the first day of my 85th year (or is it my second?), it was a Monday. I left for my first medical appointment of the year with my optometrist or ophthalmologist, or whatever you want to call an eye doctor, at 7:30 in the morning. After about three hours of examination, the doctor declared, “Nothing’s changed. You’re still going blind, but not until after you’re dead,” or something to that effect.
With that cheerful news in mind, I had a pleasant breakfast at Bella Bru in EDH, a place I hadn’t visited in quite some time. I filled up the car with gas and drove back home, where I indulged in a long nap.
After my nap, Naida and I took our dog for a stroll along the river. As we walked toward the river we passed an amusing Halloween tableau.
Following that little bit of amusement, we walked up to the top of the levee and down the other side toward the banks of the American River. As we walked along the brush toward the river we came across a man who seemed to be passed out on the path. Concerned, we asked him if he needed help. He raised his head without looking at us and mumbled, “No,” then laid back down. We continued our walk to the river, marveling at how, even at this late point in the year, the water levels were almost at flood stage.
Afterwards, we made our way back home and spent the rest of the evening watching movies on TCM. We caught “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” for what felt like the umpteenth time. So, that was how day one (or maybe two) of my 85th year unfolded.
Tuesday began with a visit to my primary physician’s office. They conducted an EKG, which revealed that my heart appeared to be in good shape, especially for someone of my age. After a hearty lunch, I headed for my blood and urine tests. Unfortunately, I haven’t received the results just yet. Following that, we took our dog to the dog park, and afterward, we settled in to watch a Joan Crawford classic, “A Woman’s Face.” Later in the evening, before heading to bed, we indulged in some Bette Davis magic with “Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte.”
As for Wednesday, I must confess, I have no recollection of it. I can only assume it was as exciting and action-filled as all my recent days have been. Now, it’s Thursday morning, and I’m enjoying breakfast. Naida is seated beside me, sipping her coffee. We’re tuned into “The View” and sharing our thoughts on Whoopi’s latest hairdo. Meanwhile, our dog is going crazy, barking at the leaf blowers outside. The weather forecast predicts a scorching temperature in the 90s this afternoon, setting a record for the date. Just a moment ago, Naida surprised me by saying, “I don’t usually eat breakfast, just lunch.” It’s amazing how, after all these years together, I’m still learning new things about her. Looks like we’re in for another thrilling day in the Enchanted Forest.
That evening as we were preparing for bed, we decided to sing together the song, What Lola Wants, Lola Gets from the broadway musical Damn Yankees. We also danced as we sang. I do not know why.
Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets
And little man, little Lola wants you
Make up your mind to have
No regrets
Recline yourself, resign yourself
You’re through
I always get what I aim for
And your heart and soul is what I came for
Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets
Take off your coat
Don’t you know you can’t win?
You’re no exception to the rule
I’m irresistible, you fool
Give in.
I woke up a little past midnight, and unable to return to sleep I ventured downstairs. I couldn’t help but revel in the serene embrace of the night. There’s something magical about the quiet hours, a time when I can easily lose myself in the enchanting world of a book. The pages seemed to whisk me away to far-off lands, and in this case, I found myself immersed in the contemporary charm of Finland in Antti Tuomainen’s mystery novel Beaver Theory.
I think I am especially interested in Finland right now because my sister and our dear friend Ester have been hatching plans to travel there in a few months hoping to witness the northern lights. Coincidently Kathleen Foote, whom I think some of you might know, I believe may be exploring Finland now.
Of all the natural wonders I’ve been fortunate enough to witness in my lifetime, the northern lights take the crown. They paint the night sky with hues of emerald and violet, a celestial dance that leaves you awestruck. The only thing that ever came close in terms of awe-inspiring beauty were the two tornadoes that, by some bizarre twist of fate, skirted me on evening on the very same trip when I first glimpsed the northern lights. It was like nature itself was putting on a show just for me!
But let’s get back to my nighttime reading rituals. You see, I’m not content with merely flipping through pages. I often find myself reaching for maps and scrutinizing photographs of the book’s settings. It’s a habit that helps me get closer to the characters and immerse myself fully in the story. Sometimes, if there’s room for one more, I even hitch a ride in the backseat of the car with the characters or play peekaboo through the bushes or windows like some peeping Tom.
The following morning after a hearty breakfast, I, along with Naida and our faithful companion Booboo the Barking Dog, embarked on a leisurely stroll through the Enchanted Forest. The weather was just perfect, with temperatures hovering in the high 70s, and not a whisper of breeze to disturb our tranquility. The sky, a deep, unblemished blue, framed the towering trees of the forest, casting them as verdant peaks against the canvas of the heavens.
At one point, as we settled on a bench to soak in the blissful silence and natural beauty, fate had a surprise in store. Along came a dog walker, with a whole fleet of seven Chihuahuas on leashes. The moment those Chihuahuas and Booboo caught sight of each other, any semblance of the peaceful serenity we had been enjoying shattered like glass tumbling from a window, crashing onto the sidewalk. We returned home shortly thereafter.
On Saturday, I had a delightful lunch with Hayden. We chatted about his exciting new job and his upcoming adventure to Japan and Thailand.
Then, on Sunday afternoon, I had to undergo some CT scans. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience, but it had to be done.
Monday rolled around, and it was hearing-aid day. Afterward, we rolled up our sleeves and got to work cleaning the house in anticipation of my son Jason’s visit. Unfortunately, he didn’t show up and didn’t respond to my messages. That evening, I finished reading Caimh McDonnell’s latest Bunny McGarry in America novel “Other Plans.” I love all the McGarry novels.
By Tuesday morning, I was growing genuinely concerned about Jason. I tried calling him, but there was no answer.
Naida and I spent most of that Tuesday morning diving into her impressive 1979 PhD thesis, titled “Leadership and Gender: A Comparative Analysis of Male and Female Leadership in Business, Politics, and Government.” It’s a masterpiece, and many urged her to publish it, but she declined due to her disappointment with academic career opportunities.
Her thesis primarily delved into the experiences of women leaders, using male leaders as points of comparison. The women she interviewed included a creator of prominent US business leaders, a US Senator, a US Cabinet member, California Assembly Speakers and other notable men and women leaders. One of the fascinating findings from her interviews with these “leaders” was that they all shared some common experiences. For example, according to Naida:
“By mid-high school they had all demonstrated some of the abilities that would enable them to achieve leadership positions in the future. The held school elective positions of every description, participated in sports, debated, and — a typically common achievement — played the lead role in the school play.”
Naida also shared that all the leaders she interviewed were considered somewhat on the margins, often coming from what could be termed as a less privileged social background, such as being poor or immigrants. At the time she wrote her thesis, it could be said that women in general were like immigrants, striving to fully integrate into American society. It’s only in the past two decades or so that women have truly begun to attain full citizenship in American society.
The immigrant experience has always been a wellspring of leaders in our nation, individuals who have contributed to its development and helped elevate their communities from being despised minorities to accepted citizens. As one legislator, whose parents hailed from a Communist country, put it:
“Natives of the area (hometown) tend to take a lot of things about government for granted, whereas immigrant parents are forever thankful that they live in this country…and they will bring out the fine qualities of living in this country…the importance of becoming a part of governments there much more vividly,,, I felt much stronger about certain issues than a lot of fellow students when I was going to school…[A]lso giving of yourself to do the things you can possibly do the country. I can’t quite describe it in words, but it was very, very instrumental in making the decision to run for office.”
During our discussion, Naida mentioned that during her time at Carmel High School, she became the first woman to be elected to the student council. Furthermore, she even managed to persuade the Harlem Globetrotters to pay a visit to the school for an exhibition, and afterwards, they all headed to Carmel Beach for a memorable party.
Finally I got in touch with my son, Jason. He had dental surgery last Friday and is still in a lot of pain, making it difficult for him to talk. Meanwhile, his wife, Hiromi, traveled to San Diego to visit their daughter, Amanda, who’s starting her first year at the University of San Diego.
Wednesday was pretty uneventful. On Thursday, I drove into the Golden Hills for lunch with Hayden. After I returned home, Naida and I decided to catch a movie – “Killers of the August Moon,” which we both enjoyed. Unfortunately, on the same day, there was yet another tragic mass shooting, this time in Maine. The Democrats called for sensible gun control measures, while the Republicans offered prayers and sympathy. It’s almost like the GOP should just change its acronym to NRA. It’s no secret.
This latest shooting marked the 36th mass killing in our country this year, according to The Associated Press and USA Today in partnership with Northeastern University. Shockingly, at least 190 people have lost their lives in these incidents (defined as four or more people dying within a 24-hour period, not including the perpetrator).
To put things into perspective, this year has seen the second-highest number of mass killings in a single year on record, with only 2019 surpassing it. Since 2006, there have been over 560 mass killings, resulting in the tragic loss of over 2,900 lives and the injuring another 2,000 individuals.
Moving on to Friday, I woke up around 11 AM. As I lay there, trying to peel my eyes open, it struck me that my lifelong hypochondria has been simply practice for getting old.
Once I managed to get up and check the mail, I discovered that my sister, Maryann, and her husband, George, had sent me a t-shirt for my birthday. It’s now my all-time favorite shirt. You see, books have always been my escape from people and reality. Wearing this shirt is like a silent declaration that I’m not avoiding anyone because they’re unbearable, but because I find reading far more captivating.
Later in the day, we went grocery shopping and then watched a documentary about elephants. Afterward, we delved into three episodes of Morgan Freeman’s narration in the series “Life On Our Planet,” produced by Steven Spielberg. The third episode depicted the third major extinction event when volcanic activity released carbon dioxide, causing a 6-degree increase in Earth’s average temperature and wiping out 90% of life on our planet. This transformation took approximately 60,000 years. To put that in perspective, in just the past century, our Earth’s median temperature has risen by almost 1.5 degrees, and it’s still accelerating. Halloween is just around the corner, and with that in mind, we headed off to bed.
The next morning, we attended our Saturday Morning Coffee gathering, my first in nearly three months. As usual, I missed the punchlines of jokes and most of the announcements, but it was good to reconnect. Afterward, we returned home and once again immersed ourselves in the melodious narration of Morgan Freeman for the next three episodes of “Life on Our Planet.” We had reached the era of dinosaurs. There was a lot of death and, well, a lot of sex. Well actually while death was exposed for all to see, sex was not. Courtship was. The sex itself was shielded from those of a certain sensibility like children. Why children must be shielded from sex but free to observe some of the most horrid examples of slaughter and mayhem I will never understand. Actually, courtship rituals are usually pretty interesting and attractive to an observer, but, unless you were a committed voyeur, to observe the act itself usually quickly becomes boring except for the participants themselves. I guess that is the essence of drama and comedy , it is all about getting there, being there is anticlimactic.
On Sunday, we wrapped up watching the Morgan Freeman series. We also napped a lot. I wasn’t feeling too great for most of the day. The temperature outside was in the 70s, which was nice. The Niners lost again. We hit the sack earlier than our usual bedtime.
Around 2:30 AM, I suddenly woke up. My stomach was upset from the bowl of baked beans I scarfed down right before bedtime. I took some Alka-Seltzer and made my way downstairs. There, I decided to dive into the latest book in C.J. Cherryh’s Foreigner series, “Defiance.” It’s crazy to think I’ve been reading these novels for nearly 50 years now, all 22 of them, one at a time as each was published . By the time I looked at the clock again, it was already 4 AM, and I still felt a bit queasy – all thanks to those beans, not the book. I figured I should try to squeeze in some more shut-eye before the sun comes up.
Monday morning, I finally rolled out of bed around noon. After breakfast, I took Naida to Kaiser to tackle some bureaucratic hurdles, but alas, we didn’t make much headway. To unwind, we decided to chill at a lovely coffee house nearby before heading back home.After returning home I spoke with my primary care physician’s assistant who told me that my blood test and CT scan were normal for someone of my age. I am not sure what that means. I am sure people of my age are dying all the time. It is like telling someone with a terminal illness your test results are normal for someone who is dying. I think a bowl of chicken soup will make me feel better than that diagnosis. Anyway, after that our evening proceeded as per our usual routine.
In the broader world, the conflicts in Israel and Ukraine persist. Trump continues to ignore judicial orders. The weather here in the Enchanted Forest is quite delightful, and to top it off, the dog didn’t get on my nerves today. If fact he was quite delightful. And never forget, if you make it through the night, tomorrow is another day.
Today is the last day of my 85th October, Halloween. There seems to be little evidence of Halloween here in the Enchanted Forest — a few houses with decorations and that’s about it. This morning we drove to the lawyer’s office to update Naida’s will. There’s no need to update mine since I have nothing and want nothing. In the afternoon we took the dog to the vet’s for a checkup and to purchase some of the medicines he requires.
Tomorrow comes November. Autumn is over. Winter is coming.
Papa Joe's Tales, Fables and Parables 