Notes From A Bear's Journey

   Ah, the classic intro line to The Beatles album, Sgt. Pepper Lonely Hearts Club Band (which ironically is now celebrating it's 50th anniversary); back then, even their song "When I'm 64" seemed a distant thought to the lads just ready to leave their 20s.  But I thought of all of this as my wife watched a special on Lady Diana, her death now 20 years past.  At the mention of that, I was again amazed at how time had passed by so quickly.  20 years, I asked.  Really?  Indeed time can appear to slow down (as in witnessing an accident or in youth as in wanting to turn 18) or speed up (as in waiting for a vacation that seems to take forever to arrive and once there, is over quickly).  What is that with our brain and its perception of what we've created, this thing we call time?    Recently, I've begun noticing a flurry of memoir-like books appearing, chronicles of people's lives as they describe their journeys, from aging rock stars to celebrity authors (t

   The past few nights have been rather fitful, our partially-paralyzed dog growing restless and keeping us (mostly me) awake until the early morning hours.  Feeling is beginng to return as her legs twitch during strolls, and the front part of her paws ever so gradually begin to uncurl on their own.  It is doubtful that she will become a full-on walker again, but she is beginning to feel something and the result for my wife and me is a mixture of happiness and exhaustion as we average 4-5 hours of broken sleep each night.  In our younger days, this would almost be called a binge, a purposeful few nights of staying up late to study or be with friends or to sneak in the maximum amount of play before work.  But in our later years, this is just called exhaustion.  Grabbing a nap sounds like a great plan, but it rarely happens as there is simply too much to do.  The morning begins, the sun heating the air quickly (our temps have beaten the monthly record by a full seven degrees, our hottest

   Nothing biblical here (as in the final section of the New Testament), although the British dictionary has this origin: c.1300, "disclosure of information to man by a divine or supernatural agency," from Old French revelacion and directly from Latin revelationem (nominative revelatio ).  For me, I am puzzled about this word, one whose basis is that of "to reveal" -- what happened to the "a" in the extended spelling or put more simply, why isn't it spelled "reveal-ation?"  Or reversed, spelling reveal as simply "revel" or "reveel?"  In German, even with their "w's" pronounced as "v's," don't think about trying to Anglicize the spelling because the word "reveal" in German is specific to your usage of your meaning, as in 11 different verbs , according to one online translation site...and none of the verbs look even close to the English spelling of "reveal.

    If you happened to read the last post, the comedian W. Kamau Bell titled his book a collection of awkward thoughts so I figured why shouldn't I just ramble (okay, I used to do this with earlier posts but just consider this a segue into my clearing off recent piles of papers and notes and thoughts all at once...at least until they begin piling up once again in a few days).  Part of this collection of the miscellaneous hit home as both my mother and my dog are now testing the resiliency of my back, often times sending me off to bed with soreness and aches that I've previously been able to fend off.  Then I read about reviewer Lorrie Moore attending a concert by Stephen Stills (now age 72) of Crosby, Stills & Nash (and sometimes Young) fame and noting in The New York Review of Books : No sooner had the Long Players begun with Stills’s “Carry On” than the capacity crowd was standing --this cannot always be counted on with members of the AARP-- and singing along at the to

   Have you ever read a book that started off by asking you why you decided to read that book you're now reading?  It was an interesting start and perhaps a gamble for an author to write that, as if taking a survey from a store asking why you chose that particular store but before entering the store.  So what is it about a book that gets you to read it...the reviews, the comments on the dust jacket, the artwork, the opening pitch on the inside flap, a recommendation from a friend, an interview on a podcast, a random stopover at an airport?  Anyway, this particular book was just a series of random thoughts, in fact W. Kamau Bell calls them awkward thoughts (his book is actually titled The Awkward Thoughts of W. Kamau Bell ), and here's how he wrote about a portion of his childhood in the south and his thoughts of returning there in his book, bearing in mind that the author is big (6'4"), black, and a comedian: I'm really happy that I spent so much time there as a ki

    There's something about both being a senior and being a dog, at least from my perspective.  Some of this came to mind as I was clearing out part of my desk and came across a series of quotes that made the internet rounds some years ago on questions dogs might ask of God.  Here's one: Are there dogs on other planets, or are we alone?  I’ve been howling at the moon and the stars for a long time, but all I ever hear back is the dog across the street.  Sounds a bit like a tag line for a Gary Larson cartoon; but then this one got me thinking: When my family eats dinner, they always bless their food.  But they never bless mine.  So, I’ve been wagging my tail extra fast when they fill my bowl.  Have you noticed my own blessing?  Couple all of this with my wife and I getting a tad older and beginning to notice a bit more of the reality of another set of quips that made the rounds some years ago about well, being older, such as: You get two invitations to go out on the same nigh