(3) Noticing more of My Favorite Things

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We live in the far northern suburbs of Chicago, and sometimes as early as late September, trees begin to have that unmistakable look of autumn.  Their green shifts noticeably to yellow and red, some orange, and the air around them has a nip to it in the morning.  In front of our house, we have a Burning Bush.  At any other time of the year, it is a rich green bush.  But in the autumn we see why its name is what it is, and recently my daughter remarked how much she loved that bush. 

Until two weeks ago, temperatures were relatively mild, and we still saw quite a scattering of birds in the sky.  They fly and seem to write calligraphy, so dynamic and aesthetic, and within a minute they alight on high electrical wires.  We saw, too, so many geese gathered around a pond, on the drive home one afternoon.  I said to my daughter that it was still a bit warm here, so they hadn't flown south just yet.

As autumn progresses, trees look more bare and the air feels sharper to the skin.  We are fortune to have a large backyard with a pond adjoining it.  It takes hours to rake the leaves in October and November, and I always feel good when the yard is clear.  We have small wildlife, too.  On occasion we've seen robins, cardinals and finches in the trees.  There are the occasional fox, raccoon and rabbit as well, but squirrels are plentiful.  They're a wonder to watch.  When they run, or hop, it is as if they glide in the air, their tails like plumes.  They're mostly ambling about our deck and climbing trees, but recently I saw one, then another, forage right in the open and cleared yard. 

What things do you notice right outside your home and in your day-to-day, as you walk or drive about?  Theory of Algorithms encourages us not just to think and reflect, but also to observe and experience. 

(2) Reflecting on My Favorite Things

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Then, morning rain and John Coltrane bring one of my longtime favorite jazzy voices to mind: Michael Franks. 

I lived in a painting by Renoir
Dined late in those sidewalk cafes
But lately I seem to be more inclined
For a walk in the rain

I dance to Grappelli and Django
Saw candlelight through beaujolais
But lately I seem to be more inclined
For a walk in the rain

We laughed at the weather
Out walking without umbrellas
How well I remember
Your face when we walked in the rain

You know I was crazy about you
Some sadness caused me to unwind
Maybe I will meet you (if fate is kind)
On a walk in the rain

A Walk in the Rain, by Michael Franks

I love how Franks sings with languorous pace and romantic longing, so words seem to hang in the air (e.g. more inclined) and they bridge together in very personal ways (e.g. umbrellas | How). Since my wife and I began dating in 1983, we have loved his music.  In fact, it was she, as I remember this moment, who introduced me to Franks.

Daddy plays the ashtray
Baby starts to cry
The lady wants to know
The reason why
Daddy's just like Coltrane
Baby's just like Miles
The lady's just like heaven
When she smiles

The lady wants to know
She wants to know the reason
Got to know the reason why
This man has got to go
This man is always leavin'
How he hates to say goodbye
What she doesn't know
Is there really is no reason
Really is no reason why

Daddy he hates airplanes
Baby loves to fly
And the lady wants to know
The reason why
Daddy's just like Coltrane
Baby's just like Miles
The lady's just like heaven
When she smiles

The Lady Wants to Know, by Michael Franks

It is natural, I suppose, to wonder about what it is the lady truly wants to know.  Daddy is a jazz musician, and plays at clubs across the country, and she and her baby come along.  Perhaps she wonders about this lifestyle and how it well it suits her young family.  Perhaps she wonders, too, what drives Daddy creatively and be a musician.  But there really is no reason for nature, because nature simply is.  Life for them is what it is. 

You see, one post, such as the above from Grant Snider, is rich with music and memories.  So if we were to pause at things we encounter, what reflections come to mind and what experiences seem to touch our face? 

(1) Beginning with My Favorite Things

It begins with the Incidental Comics post below.  It's a very thoughtful, sweet and endearing blog by Grant Snider, who muses about things in words and pictures.  You see, it isn't comic strips with a punch line or a graphic novel that has a dramatic purpose, but more the sort of entries we'd make in our journal.  Snider is quite clever and observant.  So on my visits to his blog, I often find myself reflecting on, and often smiling at, his musings.  He is a modern day philosopher-cum-artist. 

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Then, let us follow a trail that My Favorite Things takes us to and see what we see:

Raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens,

Bright copper kettles, and warm woolen mittens,

Brown paper packages tied up with strings,

These are a few of my favorite things.

Cream-colored ponies, and crisp apple strudels,

Door bells and sleigh bells, and schnitzels with noodles,

Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings,

These are a few of my favorite things.

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes,

Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes,

Silver white winters that melt into springs,

These are a few of my favorite things.

When the dog bites, when the bee stings,

When I’m feeling sad,

I simply remember my favorite things,

And then I don’t feel so bad.

Of course, My Favorite Things is one of many, many lovely songs from the classic The Sound of Music. But instead of tapping a clip from that 1965 film, that is, of Julie Andrews and the von Trapp children singing it, I thought about the above two covers of it. I love it when musicians take their own creative slant on an original. Sure, it's pleasing to our ears when they mimic the original as faithfully as possible. But when they draw on their own artistry, it's special. What's more, when my daughter was a little girl, The Sound Music was a family favorite and My Favorite Things was tops. So I transcribed the lyrics, and printed it in nice font for her. It is a lovely memory for us.

Religion as a Moral Frame of Reference

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For one, if someone cannot determine right from wrong, he or she needs education, guidance and encouragement.  Indeed empathy, as a crucial aspect of Emotional Intelligence, also helps us do the right thing by prompting us to step back, reflect on what is going on, and put ourselves in others' shoes.  But these provisions - education, guidance, encouragement and empathy - can be housed in any frame of reference or place of learning, for example, school, sports and workplace.  So this quote is quite correct, we don't quite need religion per se, which I interpret as religion is not our only option.  However, and this is an important however, some people do need religion for such moral reference and learning and religion works perfectly for them.  While this quote may have an undertone of derision vis-a-vis religion, I believe we have to guard against such an undertone.  Millions of people around the world turn to their religion as their saving grace, guidance and protection, and they deserve acknowledgment and respect.

Ten Commandments à la George Carlin

This is intelligent, persuasive comedy. In this context, it makes sense to consolidate the Ten Commandments. 

The Ten Commandments do seem to have a very pragmatic, crucial purpose, that is, to manage and control behavior.  Bad behavior, which can plunge us into chaos, death and sin, is the very thing that Moses was called upon to prevent.  Sadly such precepts, or rules, if you will, haven't completely prevented such bad behavior.  It is in this frame of reference that George Carlin singles out Thou shalt not kill as something that some people have made a terrible, horrific mockery of.  Regardless of faith, it seems that some groups and nations have fought wars in the name of God.  The very fact that this happens makes the commandment all the more important to remind ourselves of and strictly to abide by. 

Quandaries of Religion à la George Carlin

I believe in God, but who that being is exactly, I'm not so sure, yet.  We as humankind created religion, which I don't necessarily equate with God, even though people of various faiths may equate the two as fundamentally the same.  We are an imperfect lot, capable of the best charity toward one another and apparently of horrific deeds on each other, too.  So in this context, the religion we create is necessarily flawed and contradictory, and as George Carlin works it, subject to criticism, comedy and debate.

More specifically, I argue that religion, or religions, are our explanatory models for the supreme complexity that is God.  We don't have limitless capacity for understanding, as our brains, even for the best and smartest of us, simply cannot grasp everything.  We can grasp a lot, and come to understand what God is all about, but then our knowledge has frank boundaries to it.  So we create religion to house that knowledge, and not just knowledge, but also our musings and queries as well as our fears and doubts.

I believe God is perfect, but why, Carlin basically asks, is there disaster, catastrophe and other bad things?  Why does there seem to be flaws in God's stewardship of Earth and humankind?  A comment on YouTube points out that there is Satan, too, who is the one responsible for all these bad things.  But then I wonder how can there be Satan, if God is also omnipotent.  I'd like to believe that such things as disease, famine and poverty, conflict and war, killing and horror are part and parcel of God's purpose for humankind, that these are a test of some sort, and that it is all His Will.  Again, I'm not sure about these questions, so I need to keep reflecting on them, thinking about them, and trying to understand. 

In the end, though, Carlin is a brilliant comedian and a piercing critic of such things that we may hold near and dear.  The best thing about his act is how it prompts us to reflect, think, and try to understand.