Seeking the Sublime in the Everyday

 Last week Arthur and I went to Chicago to see Sam, his wife, Annye and Sunny, who never sits still. They live near Oak Park, Frank Lloyd Wright territory, so we took nice walks and saw some great houses. We went to the Zoo--the bears were snoozing but the rhino, my favorite charismatic megafauna, posed nicely for me. We'll be seeing more of him. Then Arthur went home and I met my dear friend of long standing, Lenesa Leana, for a visit in the Windy City which, by the way is not America's windiest city.  It got that name because in the competition to host   the great exposition of 1895 a defeated New Yorker said we were beaten by "that windiest windbag, a Chicago politician."  Windy or not, it's a wonderful city--and this New Yorker acknowledges that the term "Second City" comes from the rebuilding after the great fire, not that New York is the First City.  OK, I'll allow it. Our first stop was the Chicago Art Institute because Lenesa wanted to visit ...

  Today is good Friday and we're in the midst of Passover.  This will be our second Easter and Passover in quarantine, and even though there is reason for hope that the end is near I really miss gathering in church, and then having a big crowd for dinner.  Two years ago we had a Seder/Easter dinner. Here's what I wrote then. Today is good Friday and we're in the midst of Passover. When these two holy feasts come together I think back to my daughter, Jessie’s, first year.  I hadn’t given much thought to her religious education; I was just trying to sleep through the night.  But it was a big question. Jessie had a Jewish father, Arthur, and a Christian mother, me.  Arthur had very little religious upbringing and I had taken some time off from church to wrestle with some  issues in my evangelical background. Up ’til that point our biggest conflict had been what to say at our wedding; so—no Father, Son and Holy Ghost, but we did say the Lord’s Prayer....

 My grandson, Teddy, was born by caesarian section.  When he was really little, well, bigger than this,    he asked his mom for some details about his birth.  Where did they cut you so I could get out of your tummy? She pointed to her side. Didn't that hurt? he asked. No, they give you medicine so it doesn't hurt. And when did that happen? October 16th. On My Birthday?! A birthday is always cause for celebration and this month we have many celebrations. Eleanor Roosevelt, for one; First Lady of the world, born October 11, 1884.  Here is her statue, standing in Riverside Park at 72nd Street.  She, that is her statue,  was spotted a while ago wearing a mask.  Well, of course, she would have worn a mask. What did she say?   "You must do the thing you think you cannot do." And..."The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." My cousin Tom was born on October 31, Hallowe'en.  I imagine when he was little he thou...

FIFTY YEARS AGO THIS WEEK On October 16, 1969,  The Mets won the World Series  and I was there.  I'd like to say I was in my baby carriage but I was at my job in midtown, watching tons of shredded papers fall from office windows.  those were the days when you could open windows. But first, a little family history.  In the months before I was born my mother stayed with her in-laws while Dad finished his semester at Babson College. Everyday Mom and MomMom would go to the ball game; to the Bronx to see the Yankees or to the Polo Grounds to see the Giants. I had always thought we were exclusively Yankee fans but look at this picture of Alan, aged five.  That's a Giants uniform--he wore it every day. I don't know how Mom ever got it off him to wash it. Here he is with our grandfather, PopPop Brown.  You still can't see the writing, but the orange and black socks are the clue.  This is definitely a Giant's uniform.  ...

When my daughter, Jessie, was three she was terrified of tow trucks.    That was my fault.    I’d say, “C’mon, c’mon, we have to hurry, the tow truck’s gonna get our car.”    She’d run ahead of me and reach up to grab the door handle, protecting the car from marauding tow trucks. “As long as I’m here, no tow truck will take our car,” she seemed to say. Imagine her delight when she spied a tow truck towing another tow truck.    It felt like vindication to her. I told that story for years until it became part of Jessie’s legend. She grew up and told it to her daughter Molly.    Molly loved it so much she begged to hear it over and over, then she told it to her friend, Flynn, as if she’d seen it with her own eyes.    Then Flynn told the story as if he’d been there.    Now it’s legend and I’m sure one day Flynn’s grandson will say to his grandchildren, “Did I ever tell you about the time I saw a tow truck towing ...