My wife and three children just returned from a 10 day vacation. I stayed home and held down the fort.
While they were gone, I drove the family car a couple of times when I was feeling lazy and also to remind myself of what it was like.
I hated it.
It felt to me like I was swathed in layers of gauze wrapping, insulated from all that I was moving through. Hard to breathe in an iron-lung sort of way.
This isn’t an environmental thing; I have just transitioned out of an automobile lifestyle. It’s no longer in my DNA.
If I don’t ride, it seems I don’t live.
I had known something of Hitchens because of his adamant atheism and his connection with Richard Dawkins. When I saw that his memoirs were available on Kindle Books, I took a chance and bought a copy. I loved every word of it. He is a powerful personality and writes the same way. For me, very wonderfully with interesting stories and anecdotes throughout. Everything from English Boarding School travails, the discovery his mother was Jewish after her suicide, his fondness for P.G. Wodehouse (which I now share), his strong affection for the United States and his evolution away from Socialism to outright support for the war in Iraq. His prose really made me reevaluate my own thinking on the subject. I also love it when I need a dictionary to make it through every other page.
Anyway, I was not quite finished with the book when the news arrived that he is being treated for esophageal cancer. With the timing, I felt a bit as if I had lost a friend.
From his memoir to, “God is Not Great, How Religion Poisons Everything”, I there find reference to one of my favorite, albeit arcane, books by the late SJ Gould, “Wonderful Life”. Hitchens weaves Gould’s evolutionary ideas in with his own and, again, leaves me blinking at the page with the feeling that I would really like to hang out with this guy.
So, this post is in lieu of an email to him (which would just end up in the “Anonymous In-Box”), describing my appreciation for his mastery of the English language and his reference to a book that I had thought perhaps another 12 people had read. Topping it off is that I work for a company that is refining a product for the early detection of esophageal cancer. I know the odds.
I wish him the best during his course of treatment.
X-Box manufacturing, the ZUNE, Microsoft retail stores and now — KIN!
Black-gray outside. Air temperature just a little less than body temperature. It doesn’t seem like it, but under the streetlight I can see the fog swirling in its luminescence. There is no wind to the skin, but the vapor undulates and I suppose if I went out again and opened up a little, I could feel it.
It isn’t often, but I was drug from a bad dream into this twilight. One of those where in the initial conscious stupor one is relieved that it was just ephemera – thankfully wrong.
Who probably stole it from somewhere else.
Why would this have been left out of the New Testament?
The six-story statue of Jesus (affectionately known as “touchdown Jesus”) before being hit by lightning …..
Then, ………. ZAP!
Hit by a lightening strike and burning to the ground.
November 26, 1960, six years old. 1060 Lemon Avenue, Menlo Park, California — take me back ……
I clearly remember my dad taking this picture with a little Minolta camera. He may have been as pleased with the gift as I was. My adrenaline was through the roof immediately after this when he said, “take her for a spin, Jimmy.” Look at where the top-tube is in relation to my waist — kids grow so fast you have to buy a couple sizes too big — I barely could get off the thing without falling over.
And now FIFTY years later, my grandson:
Who looks to be pretty excited himself.
I had to get out into it.
I have been waiting 17 years to see picture of something like this.
