Tom Glenn's Blog, page 133
October 26, 2019
Honor Flights
While dysfunction at the national level is rife, good work continues among those of us trying to make the U.S. a better country. Exempli gratia, the Honor Flight Network.
I learned of the network through the American Legion, of which I am a proud member. To belong to the legion, one must have served the country in the military. In other words, all members are veterans. Our work is to assist veterans who need help. Every Memorial Day and Veterans Day, we give out red paper poppies to remind the public of veterans’ sacrifices. In return, we accept donations. We use the money to assist organizations founded to support veterans in need.
The red poppy symbolism is important. It comes from the poem “In Flanders Fields” by John McCrae. The text:
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
This poem, in the form of a rondeau, was written during the First World War by Canadian physician Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae. It was originally published on December 8, 1915. It has become an extended watchword for all who honor our veterans.
More tomorrow.
October 24, 2019
The Airplanes
I’ve written here before about the airplanes that fly over Columbia. I observe them as I sit on my deck on the back (northern) side of my house. The planes continue to astonish me.
With few exceptions the planes I see are very large airliners, carrying passengers to and from Baltimore-Washington International (BWI) airport, some miles to the east of me. At different times of day, I see and hear them so often—sometimes about one a minute—that the total must approach or even surpass a hundred a day. At other times, I see and hear none at all. Most of them appear to be outgoing. They fly very high from east to west.
Infrequently, I see planes I’m assuming are incoming. They generally fly quite low from the north and turn east as they approach my house. Even though they are thousands of feet lower than the outgoing aircraft, they make far less noise. I assume that’s because they use less power.
I’ve heard that residents of Columbia, Maryland (where I live) complain about the planes and the noise they cause. I don’t object to the noise. Maybe it’s because I’m somewhat deaf (the result of an old war wound). The sound ranges from a medium-pitched droning to a low rumble deep enough to resemble very noisy thunder. It can be loud enough to interrupt conversation. To me it’s pleasant, exciting, and, at times, beautiful. Maybe that’s the musician in me talking.
But it’s the sight of the planes, especially the outgoing ones, that enthralls me. At night, all I can see is lights flying across the sky. In the early morning, the sun is behind them, lighting them from below. Midday, the sun shines on them from the south (at least at this time of year). At day’s end, they fly into the dying rays of the sun, luminous and flashing.
At that time of day, I find them most beautiful. As the sun shines up on them from the west, they sail evenly away and eventually disappear from view. There is a placidity and steadiness about them that makes me feel peaceful. They signal the end of the day and the coming of night.
As is obvious from the foregoing, I love my planes. I feel a personal connection with them just as I do with flora and fauna surrounding the pond behind my house. This is my world, and I have a place in it. I share and am a part of the beauty that surrounds me.
As you may have guessed, I’m more artist than scientist.
October 23, 2019
Lies
According to the Washington Post, as of 9 October, his 993rd day in office, President Trump has made 13,435 false or misleading claims. That’s an average of almost 22 claims a day since the Post last updated its records 65 days before that report.
And Trump coaxed a foreign leader to interfere in the 2020 election. He proposed to profit himself (later withdrew the proposal as a result of protests) by using his estate in Florida as the next G-7 meeting location. He pulled U.S. troops out of Syria to allow Turkey to invade and attack our allies, the Kurds. He refuses to release his tax returns for public review. He continues to profit from foreigners seeking to gain his support by staying in his hotels around the world.
What a disgusting record. When will we say his sins are enough? The impeachment effort is moving through the House. In my view, it can’t achieve results fast enough.
I just learned that the Los Angeles Times is starting a seven-day series on the need to “drive Trump out of office at the ballot box.” On 20 October, the Washington Post lead editorial was titled “Why we should impeach and remove President Donald Trump.”
The fervor is building.
October 22, 2019
My New House (4)
The oddities of the house, for me, add to its charm. It is ideally suited to the way I live my life.
One of the strange features of the house when I bought it was the absence of overhead lighting. I’ve since installed ceiling lights in two bedrooms and my office. I’m now well lit.
I spend most of my waking hours on the lowest level, where my office is. My best stereo rig is there, providing me with music while I write. All my books, musical scores (I hold a BA in music and composed), CDs, DVDs, tapes, and record albums are in shelves around my desk, within easy reach. The office is especially well lighted, with four powerful floodlights over the desk and dictionary stands—like most writers, I’m surrounded by oversized dictionaries in English and the other seven languages I have worked in. My deck, accessible through glass doors at the end of the room, is furnished with a picnic table and a variety of chairs where I can take a break from my work and view the pond at the back of the house.
One of the surprising features of the house is how well all my decorative art fits in. I have paintings and art objects from all over the world, reflecting my years of working abroad. By the fireplace in the sunroom is a ceramic temple dog from China. Throughout that room and the piano room are ceramic elephants, a specialty of Vietnam. On the wall next to my reading chair in the sunroom is a copy of the head of the virgin from Michelangelo’s Pietá in the Vatican. Next to the piano is a wooden nutcracker, shaped like a soldier, from Moscow. On the walls are paintings from a variety of countries, but Vietnam predominates—I spent the most time there.
My decorative pieces look like they were designed to be displayed in this strange house. Its quirkiness and décor mirror their unconventional owner: a spy turned writer with a long and bizarre secret history.
October 21, 2019
My New House (3)
For all its virtues, my new house is not perfect. The previous owners did little to prepare the house for a new owner, and oddities are throughout the house.
When I moved in, the house was dirty. The couple who sold it to me were elderly. They probably did the best they could to have the house presentable, but dirt was everywhere. I spent days cleaning, and even now I find myself scrubbing away. I just cleaned and bleached the large sink-washtub in the utility room.
Several rooms in the house are lit by windows that go up as high as two stories. And there’s a skylight in the master bathroom. I can’t wash the windows myself—in two cases, I’d have to get on the roof to do it. So I’ll pay a pretty penny to get them cleaned.
Peculiarities abound throughout the house. I find wall switches that don’t seem to turn anything on or off. And there are a series of round switches with numbers on them that presumably connect to a heating or cooling device, but they don’t seem to do anything. Then there are the wall plugs that don’t work. I have yet to divine how all these devices are connected.
Wall switches for the lights in the three bathrooms look identical but work differently. One is a dimmer switch, one with a higher-lower setting, and one a plain on-off switch.
The house is built with two peaked roofs, called cathedral ceilings. One is over the living room is two stories high. The other is over the sun room and piano room which are, respectively, a story and a half and two stories high. That may mean that heating those rooms will be difficult. I’ll find out when the weather turns cold.
The house is a split-level like none I’ve ever seen. As noted earlier, the front door faces stairs going up half a story and down the same length. Next to the stairs is the living room. Upstairs is the main living area—kitchen, dining room, two bedrooms, the piano room, and the sunroom which leads to the deck. Downstairs is my office and adjoining rooms.
More tomorrow.
October 20, 2019
My New House (2)
All that I wrote two days ago about my new house was about the top of three levels—the house is a split level. The front door opens on the middle level, the living room, with staircases facing the door going both up and down. The living room is blessed with another gas fireplace and with glass doors that open to the south to the walkway in front of the house.
The lowest level is the same size at the top level. In its central room, at the foot of the stairs, is my office filled with my u-shaped desk and bookshelves, all custom made by a master cabinet maker of blond maple. To the west of the office are the laundry-utility room, a bathroom, and a bedroom. To the east are three more rooms. I use two for storage. The third is my workout room with a weight bench, a rack of dumbbells, a barbell, and an exercise bike.
The office opens to the north onto the patio a dozen feet from the pond. As I work at my computer, I can look up and see the pond and its surrounding beauties. When I need a break, I walk out to the patio and sit at a picnic table, listening to all the sounds of nature around me.
I’ve said little about the living room that forms the middle level of the house. I haven’t used it much so far, mainly because I spend so much time on my deck. But as the cold weather rolls in, I’ll use that room more. That’s where my reading chair is and one of my best stereo rigs. I look forward to cold winter evenings reading before the fire with music filling the room.
More tomorrow.
October 18, 2019
My New House
I moved from Ellicott City to my new house in Columbia, Maryland at the beginning of June. I’ve been working ever since to get the house arranged as I want it to be. I was slowed down by the illness of a friend that required me to spend many hours taking care of her. Then, in the process of moving, I gave myself a hernia. I’m now healing rapidly from that nuisance. I’m finally getting the place shaped up.
The new house, despite some drawbacks, is ideal for me. Because of its location at the edge of a pond on a small plot of land filled with trees, the house requires no outside work at all—no lawns to be mowed, no flower beds to be planted and kept up, and, apparently, no walks to be snow-shoveled. The upkeep of the surrounding area is the responsibility of the Columbia Association to which I, as a property owner, pay a regular fee.
I have written at length here about the deck on the back of the house overlooking the pond several hundred feet in diameter half filled with water reeds. Trees of every variety surround the pond and the deck, making for a scene of resplendent beauty. Animals and birds come and go. I spend as much time as I can on the deck. I read there and eat all my meals there, soaking up the richness of the scene.
The deck runs the full width of the house on the north side and can be accessed from a spare bedroom and from a room with a gas fireplace I’m calling the sunroom. The eastern wall of that room is all windows that go up to the slanted ceiling. In the morning, sunshine floods the room. On the wall opposite the windows is built-in television.
To the south of the sunroom is the piano room where my Steinway grand dominates. Its eastern wall, rising two stories, is filled with windows. I can play the piano and glance at the view, an open lawn area backed by endless trees.
More next time.
October 17, 2019
Tax Rates and the Economy
Last year, for the first time on record, the 400 wealthiest American households paid a lower total tax rate than any other income group, according to the New York Times. It’s high time we change all that.
There’s a belief, not supported by history, that cutting taxes, especially for the wealthy, is good for the economy. Instead, low taxes on the rich contribute to income inequality, now the worst it has ever been in the U.S. As I reported some days ago, income inequality is currently the highest since census started tracking it. The rich are getting richer, the poor poorer, and those in the middle are becoming fewer.
Income disparity hurts the economy because the vast majority of people have less money to spend. For the good of all of us, we need to work toward a more even distribution of the fruits of our economic endeavors. The time for change is long past.
All of the Democratic presidential hopefuls are touting higher taxes on the rich and other steps to benefit lower-income citizens. My reading of the political landscape is that Trump and the Republicans will likely lose the election by a landslide. According to the Washington Post on 9 October, “A majority of Americans say they endorse the decision by House democrats to begin an impeachment inquiry of President Trump.” The shift in sentiment in favor of removing Trump results from recent revelations about his efforts to get foreign governments to intervene in U.S. elections.
It can’t come soon enough. Trump and the Republicans have worked hard to boost benefits for the well-to-do at the expense of the middle and lower class. It’s time for the decades of inequality to end.
October 16, 2019
Back to Work
On Monday, I underwent surgery a hernia. It took less than an hour, and I was home by the middle of the day. Full recovery will take some time—I won’t be able to lift more than ten pounds for six weeks. But I’m already recovered enough that I can resume posting my blog most days.
My first day of recovery was a breeze. My daughter and her husband took care of me. All I had to do was sit around, read, and sleep. The second day was a little less easy. I found that sitting down, standing up, and bending over caused mild pain. Nevertheless, I was able get down to my office on the lowest floor of my split level and resume work at my desk. I won’t be able to drive for the rest of the week, but friends have volunteered to take me to meetings I need to attend.
Looks like I’ll be fine in short order. I’ll be back to work—writing—within a day or two. The experience made me rethink my outlook on life, recognize that I am mortal, and thank God that I am so healthy. Life is short. Death awaits all of us. We need to treasure the hours left to us and make the most of them.
October 15, 2019
Presentation on Fiction Craftsmanship
Hope you can make it.
