love Archives - Ramblin' with Roger

The Beatles LOVE by Cirque Du Soleil

leaving Las Vegas

W, Sept 27: at the recommendation of someone we went shopping with on Monday, we went to breakfast at the Polaris Street Cafe, a place so unassuming from the outside we weren’t sure it was open. The food was delicious, and the breakfast burrito was so large that I had half of it for dinner.

After lunch, MAK and I played billiards, just as we did back in college, which is to say, badly. We did make some decent shots.

Mirage

We headed to The Mirage to see The Beatles LOVE by Cirque Du Soleil. It was a magnificent show. It had everything from an Eleanor Rigby-laden war scene to a tribute to Beatlemania to astonishingly daredevil skateboarding to ballet in the air. A review on Vegas.com called it “a psychedelic journey through the trends and politics of the ’60s and most importantly, The Beatles.”

The music blends several tracks, as the LOVE album does, and is very effective. (By the way, if you are a Beatles fan, you should get that album.) The only song I recall that was not from the album was Twist and Shout.

One problem with the audience is that, while taking photos was allowed, using a flash was not, and for good reason. Ushers went down to the front rows of our section twice to chastise idiots.

There was a five-minute delay about 2/3s of the way through, but it didn’t ruin the show’s flow. My difficulty was that there was often SO much going on, it was a challenge to decide where to look.

A recommendation: buy your tickets early. They use “dynamic pricing,” meaning that the closer to showtime, the more likely they will be more expensive. Yet the nosebleed seats I bought were upgraded to a better location.

Going home?

Th, Sept 28: We checked out of the resort and took a cab to the airport, driving past the Statue of Liberty, which mistakenly appeared on US postage for a time.

We waited at gate 40, but the plane leaving adjacent gate 41 for Atlanta departed late. Still, I was surprised when no one was at the gate 30 minutes before our scheduled takeoff.

Suddenly, we heard a muddled announcement. All I could make out was final, Detroit (our first destination), and 34. Curse me for a novice! I should have known they had moved the flight. I took off for Gate 34 while MAK checked the departure board. He had gotten no info from Delta on their app about the change.

We carried our luggage to the 46th row, with me trying desperately not to hit someone while traversing down the narrow aisle. This was the one time MAK got to sit together on the trip.

Home!

The sandwichwich fixings I packed became dinner. Because of trouble with the plane, our flight to ALB was over an hour late and at a different gate. I checked a bag to Albany.

As I took my middle seat, there was a guy who looked “off.” He offered to help a young woman with her bag, but, as everyone within hearing distance could tell, he was coming onto her, big time. He gave his name, asked for hers, and wanted to know where she was sitting. Fortunately, two flight attendants escorted him off the plane; as far as I could see, he did not resist.

We finally got to Albany, and we went to the baggage area. My suitcase was already on the belt and about to go back around when I put down my other bag, dropped some newspapers, and ran to get my bag, my cap flying off. It was funny to watch, I gather.

MAK’s ex picked us up and dropped me at home. I did my Wordle, then crashed.

Observations

Las Vegas was an interesting, and somewhat exhausting, experience. LV is not what I’d call a walkable city. We wanted to go to a location that wasn’t more than two miles away, but it was impossible to get to without crossing a busy highway. We took more taxis in five days than I’ve taken in the past 25 years.

I’d say Las Vegas is Disneyland, except I’ve never been to the Mouse properties. If your wallet is deep enough, there are a near-infinite number of activities.

Electronic signs for performers we’re supposed to know by first name. DONNY! It was Donny Osmond, of course. WAYNE! There’s a wax museum in LV, and I’m afraid the photo they used of Wayne Newton could have been lifted from there.

I’ve known MAK for over a half-century, but we never traveled nearly so far together. We got along well. I even prodded him to restart his blog, which has been dormant since 2019. He wrote our trip here in 800 words, which took me four posts and over 3000 words to convey; he’s much more economical.

Sunday Stealing: where love comes from

Chenango River

The Sunday Stealing this week, again from Swap Bot, asks where love comes from.

1. Does love come from the brain, the heart, or elsewhere?

Just this weekend, I saw a story from late June on about the importance of compassion. In Davis, CA “is a gathering place known as the compassion bench. David Breaux often sat there and dedicated his life to studying and talking about compassion.”

Perhaps one must be intentional about being compassionate, which will change the [metaphoric] heart. Also, check out this video, which says I Hypothalamus You.

2. Have you ever given a shot?

Sure. Usually whisky. Occasionally, rum, vodka, or a liqueur. Unless this is about an injection, in which case I had to stick my daughter’s Epipen into her leg once.

3. Can you lick your elbow? (Come on, didja try?)

No, and I probably attempted it as a kid. But on the July 25, 2023, episode of the game show JEOPARDY, a contestant did, to the annoyance of some TV audience members.

Where did I come from?

4. If I was going to be talking to you for 10 minutes, what would be something really interesting you know a little bit about but would like to know more??

My ancestry. I can go back to the 15th century on one line, but can’t find my great-great-grandparents on two others.

5. What do you think of The Sopranos?

I have a Leontyne Price CD. Joan Sutherland and Renée Fleming probably appear on albums I own. Oh, wait, you mean The Sopranos TV show? Except for clips during the Emmys, I never saw it except for the last five minutes.

6. Have you ever had a crush on your teacher? How about your boss?

A high school English teacher was less than a decade older than I was; I think her name was Miss Greene. Definite crush. Boss? No.

7. Have you ever seen a movie in 3D?

One or two, probably most recently The Lorax in 2012. I don’t enjoy it much.

Migration

8. How difficult do you think it is for immigrants to enter your country?

Immigration is fraught in the United States. This 2021 article from “Alex Nowrasteh of the Cato Institute [a libertarian think tank with which I often disagree] offers nonpartisan facts in response to common myths about immigration.”

MYTH #9: “The United States has the most open immigration policy in the world.” FACT: The annual inflow of immigrants to the United States, as a percentage of our population, is below that of most other rich countries in the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development.

9. Do you have what it takes to go live in another country, maybe for years, where you don’t speak the language as your first language?

No. And I don’t learn languages easily. Though the French I took a half-century ago was surprisingly useful when I went to France in May.

Nightmare

10. Have you ever died in your dreams?

I’ve usually been in the back seat of a car falling into a river (often the Chenango River in Binghamton, NY). Water is rushing in through an open window. But dying, I don’t recall happening.

11. What book should our political leaders read and why?

I spent several minutes perusing my bookshelves and yet didn’t pick one. But my wife recommends Listening Is An Act Of Love: A Celebration of American Life from the StoryCorps Project, edited and with an introduction by Dave Isay.

12. What is your favorite glass object?

My Willie Mays drinking glass that I’m pretty sure I got from McDonald’s decades ago. The Say Hey Kid is my all-time favorite baseball player.

13. Do you like to window shop?

Not especially.

14. Are you more likely to buy one really nice expensive outfit or a couple of cheap outfits?

I don’t care much about clothes.

15. If you could, would you wear everything once, throw it out and buy something new?

Why on earth would I want to do that? That would be abhorrent, societally and ecologically. I’m much more likely to join Buy Nothing.

Too many weeks “like this”

hitting things

In response to my most recent request to Ask Roger Anything, fillyjonk writes: Green says “I hope I don’t have a lot more weeks like this” after having several people in his life die and wow, I have had WAY too many weeks “like this” these past couple years. (ANOTHER friend at church lost her husband on Saturday). I’ve stared into the abyss altogether too much these past few years but find I have few answers

While I’m unclear whether it is an actual question or an observation, the narrative is compelling enough to try – emphasis on TRY – to answer it. The short answer is that I don’t know. Sometimes, I feel that I don’t know anything. But I keep throwing things against the wall, hoping some of them stick.

Releasing the rage

For one, I yell at the television when certain people are saying… the polite term is BS. This is a relatively recent phenomenon, dating perhaps from 2015. Lindsay Graham, for instance, is far more frustrating to me than people who are always awful, like Marjorie Taylor Greene or Josh Hawley. After expelling the anger, I feel better. No harm is done. Furniture and people are intact.

Recently, I mentioned to Arthur that a Dear Abby letter actually enraged me, much to my surprise. Basically, a family member thought another in his tribe was grieving for too long. She had “overstayed her time on the pity potty.” Abby for her part disagreed with the letter writer. Having allowed myself to be angry, it dissipated.

For far too long, I had tended to try to suppress my anger as “not nice” until I would blow a gasket. One needs to release the steam from the radiator.

Boy, I miss playing racquetball. That was a really good release of tension, hitting a bouncy thing with a fancy stick. I’m reminded that when I got really perturbed, I would find a stick, maybe a tree branch that had fallen, and strike it against a telephone pole or another item unlikely to be damaged. Therapeutic.

Can’t nothing be love but love

On a Vlogbrothers post titled Motivation in Hard Times, John Green noted that he used to operate out of anger and resentment. And for a while, that worked for him. He showed up his old writing teacher who said he wasn’t good enough to be in his class. Ha! He had books published and then turned into movies. But ultimately, and he is a tad embarrassed by it, he says it comes down to love.

In February, Dua Lipa interviewed Stephen Colbert on his show. She asked him about his faith. He said it’s “‘connected to the idea of love and sacrifice being somehow related and giving yourself to other people.'”

Surely, love is the optimal route. Yet you also need to find a term that’s become almost a cliche, self-care, whatever that is. It might be playing with stuffed animals or listening to music or reading comic books or getting a massage. Writing helps me somewhat. It’s naturally different for everyone.

I wish you well.

Valentine’s Day rambling: NECCO

Johnny McDaniel, worked over the years as a miner and milk truck driver, married and divorced Rodger’s mother three times and he loved music

necco.conversation-hearts This being the middle of the month, I thought I’d do some linkage related to love. The first post,from Mark Evanier’s blog, he posted back in June 2018, but I saved it for this day.

Jim Brochu and Steve Schalchlin “are a splendid union of two very talented people who seem to know absolutely everyone in their profession, their profession being The Theatre. Here’s nine minutes of Jim and Steve singing about their relationship.”

Alumni couple celebrates 75 years of marriage
Dorothy Dever ’43 and Robert Dever ’43 met at SUNY New Paltz – my alma mater – as education students and were married on August 28, 1943, in East Rockaway, N.Y. They are now celebrating 75 years together.

Season 2 of the Love Letters Podcast: taking on a big, complicated, seemingly unanswerable question: How do you meet someone?

Things I loved about the Super Bowl: Gladys Knight’s performance of the national anthem. The NFL at 100 ad. The Democracy Dies in Darkness ad AND a response. What I didn’t love: the game.

Only one of the reasons I loved Frank Robinson, the first black manager in Major League Baseball, who died February 7: he was the Most Valuable Player in the National League in 1961, playing for the Cincinnati Reds. The Reds traded him away after the 1965 season. He was the Most Valuable Player in the American League in 1966, for the Baltimore Orioles.

Rent-a-sister: Coaxing Japan’s hikikomori men out of their bedrooms
Not only do these Japanese young men not date, sometimes they never leave their bedrooms.

This is about familial love: How A Long-Lost Guitar Was A Lesson In Grace And Forgiveness

“Rodger McDaniel was 21 years old when his father died. His dad, Johnny McDaniel, worked over the years as a miner and milk truck driver, married and divorced Rodger’s mother three times – and he loved music.”

As someone commented: “Those Story Corps folks have killed me almost every Friday morning for years. Don’t know why I even bother to wear mascara on Fridays.”

Finally, Chuck wrote: May as well cancel Valentine’s Day now

“The New England Confectionery Company – better known as Necco – went bankrupt last year, and their products and recipes were purchased by an Ohio-based candy company, Spangler, in the bankruptcy sale.

“And Spangler didn’t have enough time to produce enough candy hearts – with their ubiquitous messages of ‘LOVE YOU’ and ‘I DO’ and “CALL ME” and ‘BE MINE’ – in time for the 2019 Valentine’s Day season.

“Now this doesn’t mean that candy hearts won’t be around for the season – I understand two other companies, Sour Patch and Brach’s, will have candy hearts – but let’s face it. They’re not Necco hearts.”

Here’s a confession I don’t know that should make, especially living New England-adjacent. But here goes: I hate those NECCO candies. I think they taste like chalk. I’m so glad to get that off my chest.

Ringo Starr and “peace and love”

Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence,

The birthday of Ringo Starr is July 7. And for his birthday, Ringo wants us all to flash the peace sign and say the words “peace and love” at noon in whatever time zone you’re in.

In 2005, on that date, there were the horrific London bombings.

In 2016, on that date, there was the horrific shooting of police in Dallas, TX apparently by a lone gunman, an Army veteran.

OBVIOUSLY, this “peace and love” stuff is not working. It’s NOT working. Does this mean we stop trying? Hell, no.

Scott Pelley of CBS News noted, in his live interview with the Texas Attorney General, the irony of the specific mass attack, since the Dallas Police Department has been a model for confronting police brutality. He misspoke in a cringeworthy moment, but yes, we DO get it. Dallas officer-involved shootings HAVE rapidly declined in recent years. DPD should get props for trying to do the right thing. Why were THEY targeted?

Just like Philando Castile was trying to do the right thing when he was shot by a police officer at a traffic stop, so this “right way to deal with cops at traffic stops” would not have helped. Why was HE targeted?

It’s our difficult duty to shut out the noise, that “race-baiting” Elizabeth Warren is to blame for the death of Dallas cops, or a former Congressman (!) calling for revenge against President Obama and Black Lives Matter. Escalation of rhetoric is NOT the remedy.

I’ve been reading a book – more about that when I’ve finished it – that suggests that certain segments of society see information very differently. This explanation of Black Lives Matter may be useful to some; I do hope so. And if not, well, I’m trying.

Regardless, we may be ultimately stuck with Ringo Starr and “peace and love.” We drag out hoary Martin Luther King, Jr. quotes, appreciative that his words have outlived him. And, given, the means of his death, hope that he is, or will be, correct.

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction … The chain reaction of evil – hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars – must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation.”