The Next Dark Age
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Christmas 2009: The Take
My family arrived for Boxing Day pizza and presents and check out what I got:
I drew this picture of a Hyacinth Macaw in 8th grade art class. She found it in the back of a closet somewhere and had it framed for the bird room. Obviously I did not inherit my father’s talent. She also framed this one below, of a Double Yellow Amazon, that my brother did when he took the same art class in the 8th grade. He is rather more talented than I, but better developed his skill drawing in comic book style.My grandfather made a donation to the rescue for me. And Santa left Laffy Taffy and a gift card to Meatheads in my stocking.
Ahhhh. The Loot.
A Christmas Memory, by Truman Capote
Book 45I imagine it is the thing a writer might do to honor someone after he has become famous. Good on him, I think.
The Killer Angels, by Michael Shaara
Book 44
My mother loved Michael Shaara’s The Killer Angels so much that she has read every book his kid wrote. I might have gone my whole life rolling my eyes at the idea of reading a novel about Gettysburg, except that Professor Blight mentioned that it was the fiction piece that he had assigned to his Civil War students for years – until Doctorow’s The March. I think I understand why Blight made the change. The March focused less on the soldiers’ experience and a bit more on the civilian experience. And it particularly focused on the experience of the freed slaves. The Killer Angels covers the Battle of Gettysburg by moving the narrative from one leader to another on both sides of the field.
I cannot even describe how beautifully written this book was, except to say that I put it down after almost every chapter. Both to let the language sink in, and because I didn’t want to hurry through it. Until Pickett’s charge. Then I might have hurried a bit. Because, you know, it doesn’t end well.
I loved them all. John Buford, the Union General that got the high ground and held it until he was reinforced. Colonel Chamberlain, the professor from Maine who had his little brother in his regiment. But mostly, for me, this book was about Generals Lee and Longstreet.
I don’t need to tell you that Lee was next to God in this time and place, but Shaara did a brilliant job of making me believe it without being frothy. I think this was mostly because we see him through Longstreet’s eyes. Longstreet loved him, but believed he was wrong and told him so. There is a moment when Longstreet is ranting – which almost never happened – to a friendly British observer – that the battles won by the Confederates were not won because of superior strategy or tactics. Or better weapons or even better soldiers. They were won because the men were just that devoted to Lee. Chivalry and devotion to Lee.
I was going to find some small part of the text here to help make my point, but there are too many and they run rather long. This one is a keeper.
Christmas Day 2009, II
Last night, I gave my mother her Christmas gift. A new Dyson Animal. Anyone that has pets should have this vacuum. Actually, we already have one. But it is several years old and a pain to lug up and down the stairs. So the gift is that she has one on each floor and will never have to be without one even if the other one dies.
This model was one of the Doorbuster deals at Best Buy on Black Friday. I didn’t know that when I walked in the door at 10:30 that morning. They were all gone. I happened to peek behind the line of the not-on-sale big brother of this guy and found him.
Because I am that freaking lucky.
I told this story of triumph to my friend Bob at work the next week. Picture a guy – a techie – all jazzed for me because he knows how great the vacuum cleaner is. He told me that when he bought his and ran it around, he was amazed and disgusted by how much dirt and dog hair it was picking up. Because he has two children and two labradors and vacuums regularly. I mention this because we had vacuumed the day before. And this picture? Is how much the new vacuum picked up just in her room when we hooked it up. I love this thing.
We were amazed. And rather disgusted. Merry Christmas.
Christmas Day 2009
You might be aware that I celebrate with my family on Boxing Day, the 26th, rather than on Christmas Day. For the third year in a row, this has given me the extra day to inish whatever Christmas crafty-gift I hadn’t yet completed. This rug, for my niece Ainslie, is my official reason for not finishing the 50 book challenge this year.
No, wait. Corporate Finance is the official reason. This is the last-minute excuse. The good news is that I am all caught up on back episodes of House (except for that one that the DVR didn’t pick up because the World Series went into extra innings) and two more into Chuck. From last season. I was watching commercials for the Rockettes Christmas Special from last year.
I’m going to go read a book now.
Kiva Update
Two years ago, I gave my grandfather a gift certificate to Kiva, the organization that hooks up people in need of microloans with lenders. A year ago, my friend Holly gave one to me. I lent the money to a lady in Paraguay that was expanding her retail operation. I just received an e-mail from Kiva saying the loan had been repaid in full.
When a loan is repaid, the lender’s account is credited. I had the option of cashing out, donating back to Kiva, gifting to someone else or relending. I chose to relend.
I found a lady in Samoa that is farming to supplement her family’s income. That sounded good to me. My (retired) boss’ wife is from American Samoa, and you might remember those islands were hit pretty badly by a tsunami earlier this year. I processed the transaction and clicked around a bit. I am linked up to my grandfather, because I “invited” him, and found that he has two active loans in addition to the one that has already been repaid.
Awesome.
Woodhouse Spa
The first thing I discovered when I went to discover Franklin Tennessee was that the entire state is closed on Sunday. Except the day spas.
The first one I went to only had massage therapists working that day. However, Woodhouse Spa was open from 1pm – 6pm and could give me the 2pm slot for a facial. I went with the signature treatment – an 8o minute appointment called the Minkyti Facial. I have no idea what that means.
I walked in at about 1:20, but the staff invited me right in to use the “relaxation room”. It had a fireplace and really comfortable chairs. There was almost nothing to read. A magazine, like, “Nashville Interiors” or something. Which was fine because I had a book. As if I could read Killer Angels in the damn spa.
I changed into a robe and the nice lady brought me peppermint tea and an aromatherapy neck wrap. I filled out the standard questionnaire, put down my pen and closed my eyes.
Seriously. I was loving this place. Then, two women walked in and sat down. They started yammering and ruined the whole experience. They were finished with their appointments and were just hanging around. I actually got up and left the room when one started telling the other about the botched Botox treatment of a mutual acquaintance. Imagine please, the words, “And she was such a pretty girl” in a Southern accent. My eyes were rolling into the back of my head as I headed back to the locker room. Luckily, that was just about when they called my name for the treatment. I told the aesthetician that I had been breaking out; I presumed because my skincare routine hadn’t caught up with the change in seasons.
That standard facial is 60 minutes. The basic steps are cleanse, steam, exfoliate, extract, masque. The extra 20 minutes, in this case, were “A combination of acupressure points and connective tissue massage techniques lift and tone the skin, allowing for maximum absorption of our nutrient-rich products.”
It was a good facial. When it was over, the aesthetician told me that my skin was fine, but that I should step up the exfoliation a bit. She did not try to sell me anything. However. It was also..literally..the most expensive facial I have ever had in my entire life. It wasn’t that good.
The particularly good news is that this experience reinforced my theory that a good facial costs $80, give or take a few bucks. Less than that is ok, but it feels a bit more like a doctor’s appointment less like a retreat. More than that is just pampering.
Which is fine. I was on vacation.
Colgate Wisp
Domino’s Pasta in a Bread Bowl
There was a Domino’s Pizza up the road from my hotel, so Sunday night I decided to try the pasta bowl things they have been advertising. My expectations weren’t high, which is a good thing. Check it out:
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