Sunday, September 7, 2014

A Blog at the End of the Emotional World -OR- Northwest and Southeast With the Weekend

The dazzling Sun in the afternoon blue sky as seen near the Watergate Complex, Washington, D.C., 1:56PM September 7, 2014.

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This was kind of a strange weekend. It featured the usual: too much drinking, a good gym workout partially undone by more drinking, too much money spent, a Sunday bike ride, and more drinking.

The spire of the Calvary Baptist Church, Washington, D.C., 6:46PM September 5, 2014.

This is in the usually-chaotic Chinatown section of D.C., and Friday evening is no different what with all the people and the through-microphones haranguing Black Hebrew Israelites "church" crowd at the entrance of the Gallery Place - Chinatown Metro. Only in America would such a ghastly public nuisance be considered a protected, tax-exempt church.

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I'm home right now in -- to use the phrase that my late blogger buddy Paul Bryan Haberstick so liked -- my wee, lamp-lit, air-conditioned, dusty little efficiency somewhere in Washington, D.C., early 21st Century (well, OK, I didn't use that entire phrase but he still would have loved it) on a Sunday night.

Hey there, Bryan. How are things with you? To borrow a wonderful phrase and quote I'm sure you know, What's going on??

I'm watching the very nice 2011 movie being re-aired tonight on Hallmark Channel The Lost Valentine starring the awesome Betty White and Jennifer Love Hewitt and getting emotional over it.

I guess I'm just a gay male with the EQ of an emotionally over- wrought woman, not to mention ever-so-slightly borderline personality disorder. Well, I already sort knew that. Don't trust me with any state secrets. Still, I'm not exactly sure why I'm so weepy tonight. Maybe it's also that World War II connection thing.


I love Betty White. I think she's going to live to at least 104. Heck, she just might outlive me.


By the way, today was the funeral at Temple Emanu-El in New York City for Joan Rivers, who died on Thursday at age 81 following complications from outpatient throat surgery at some clinic. The funeral was part somber tribute, part Joan Rivers-style comedy stand up act with star-studded line up -- exactly as she wanted it. The New York Times account is here and the Yahoo News story is here.

Somehow appropriately, Howard Stern gave the eulogy. Whoopi Goldberg was there, Deborah Norville gave a tribute, while the New York City Gay Men's Chorus performed and the paparazzi and spectators were gathered outside. All just as Joan would have wanted.

Here is an image of the Order of Service at the funeral. If you click on it, you can read what Joan Rivers wrote in her 2012 book on the kind of funeral she wanted. (Having said that, neither Meryl Streep nor Bobby Vinton were there. There was also no coffin -- she was cremated.)

By the way, in the Yahoo article linked above, I came across this comment by someone named "Brandon" that I think is worth quoting in full verbatim:

"I do not follow celebrities... but Joan made an impression on me years ago in the Chicago O'hare airport. I had just completed training with the Navy and was in transit to our duty station with a few other sailors in full dress whites. This crazy old lady comes walks up to us and starts talking to us and making us laugh. Someone in the group finally said "You're Joan Rivers!". So we got a picture with her and she said no this will not do... and ask her aide to produce some dollar bills. She said "I'll stand in the middle and you guys dangle the dollar bills like I'm a stripper", haha!

"I don't know her personal life but she took the time and effort to put a smile on our face and make us laugh. It wasn't for the publicity it wasn't for her... to me that shows her true quality of character. RIP"

Joan Rivers' daughter, Melissa Rivers, and grandson, Cooper, leave Temple Emanu-El in New York City following the late comedian's funeral, September 7, 2014.

Melissa's son Cooper Endicott is 13 years old. That look on his face is very poignant to me. I lost my paternal grandmother, to whom I was very close, when I was 18 years old. The funeral was awful, as were the days, weeks, and months afterward. I remember being at the Mount Carmel Cemetery in West Long Branch on that mid-January day in 1988. There was dazzling sunlight in the cold winter day and at least 10 inches of snow on the ground.

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The Zero Mile Marker for the "future" Capital Crescent Trail / current street route of the Georgetown Branch Trail located next to the house at 8902 Talbot Avenue, Silver Spring, Md., 5:30PM September 7, 2014. This is just beyond the dedicated portion of the trail that runs along where the mythical Purple Line (light rail line) might run one day.

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I took a roughly 24 mile bike ride today in the dazzling sunshine that was a big circle -- or maybe more of an oval -- from my apartment down to Georgetown, along the Capital Crescent Trail up to Bethesda, where I had a very nice lunch with Larry P., and then on the "Future Capital Crescent Trail" / Georgetown Branch Trail all the way to mile marker 0.0 on Talbot Avenue in Silver Spring, and then over to the Silver Spring Metro and to 16th Street at the DC-MD line, and finally, all the way down 16th Street (well, on the sidewalk) back to my 'hood, overshooting my own apt. building to go to No. 9 before returning home. I will try to post a subsequent entry with pictures that I took.

Little Brady last February.

So I'm never going to interact with Brady's dad again. I'm very sad over this -- if only because I'll never Brady again. I love that little dog so much. However, I do have a slight problem. I have one of Brady's dad's books that I borrowed that I should get back to him. It is one of three books presently on my dinner table.

The books are Michael Cunningham's A Home at the End of the World (that would be Brady's dad's book); Beryl Markham's West With the Night (this is Miss Wendy's book); and Martha Beck's Steering by Starlight: The Science and Magic of Finding Your Destiny (my book after I took it from the shelf in the basement laundry room where unwanted books are often left).

Sometimes I choose books to read just by their titles. Such as the case with José Ortega y Gasset's Revolt of the Masses, a book still totally relevant 84 years after the fact.

In the meantime, please read the following (links embedded):


Paul Krugman: Scots, What the Heck? And, of course, read Paul Krugman's regularly updated blog.

My next update might not be until Tuesday evening as I have plans for tomorrow.

--Regulus

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