Sunday Morning

Whoa, it did rain! Not heavily. It looks like it must have been another one of those five, ten-minute wonders. The cats are dozing drily on the patio. There’s no sense of emergency to get them in the house.

Good sleep. I had trouble getting up before 8:30. After that late mow and all the little chores, such as putting my bedding back together and cleaning up after dinner, I was near-deathly tired.

But I feel so good now. And there will be chocolate cake for breakfast. It feels natural to have the place to myself, like I am a man instead of an adult-child. It’s too bad I cannot afford this on my own, not even if I slaved away 40 hours a week.

1793 Jefferson Resigns

Failing poorly on the politics of the French revolution, finding himself as the weaker voice in Washington’s cabinet, Jefferson resigns from his position as Secretary of State, perhaps feeling that he can serve his interests better outside of government for a time.

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The Virginian had failed to eject Hamilton from the cabinet and had lost the contest for Washington’s favor. For a long time, he had felt estranged from the cabinet and had labored “under such agitation of mind” as he had ever known, he confided to his daughter. To Angelica Church, Jefferson groaned about the dreary “scenes of business” in Philadelphia and commented, “Never was any mortal more tired of these than I am.” In returning to his beloved Monticello, he was to be “liberated from the hated occupations of politics and sink into the bosom of my family, my farm, and my books.” …

Jefferson projected the image of a contemplative philosopher, yearning for his mountain retreat, but the magnitude of his ambition was sharply debated. It irked John Adams that Republicans considered Jefferson’s resignation to be the sign of a pure, self-effacing man: “Jefferson thinks by this step to get the reputation as an humble, modest, meek man, wholly without ambition or vanity…. But if the prospect opens, the world will see and he will feel that he is as ambitious as Oliver Cromwell.” He thought Jefferson’s resignation a shrewd tactical move to position him better for a later run at the presidency. Following Jefferson’s departure from Philadelphia, he wrote to Abigail, “Jefferson went off yesterday and a good riddance of bad ware.”

-- Ron Chernow, “Alexander Hamilton”

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Celebrities and Stuff

"Avicii - Lay Me Down" (Watch on YouTube)

ONTD

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The Waste Land

I finished “Waste Land”. Disappointed. I was hoping that it was going to be another Iliad or Paradise Lost.

You can see Eliot’s special touch, his way with a phrase, the way he can play rhythm. But the poem itself seems like a wasteland. If that is the greatest English poem of the 20th century, I think that says more about English poetry and the 20th century, and it’s not saying anything very nice.

"The Wire"

I’m well into the second episode of “The Wire”, and I think I am down for the whole series, all five seasons. So, that HBO deal is giving me more bang for the buck on our Prime membership. Of course, I could be watching the series on HBO GO, but given my general laziness, I might never have gotten into that routine.

Christina Ricci

Christina Ricci is pregnant. Good for her and her family, but it feels like a loss to me. We could have used a few more movies from her. She had that special charm for me - that 'it' girl quality.

[ONTD]

Marilyn

Maureen Dowd wrote a column eulogizing Arthur Gelb, who was an editor for the Times. He died last week. We get a Marilyn Monroe story out of it.

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One night in the early 1950s when he was about 30 and was working on night rewrite, he and his fellow rewrite guys took their 10 o’clock dinner break at Sardi’s. Monroe came in with a group and was seated at the next table.

Her dress had a low-cut back, and Arthur said he and his pals were “mesmerized by her back” and her “absolutely flawless skin, very white, very pure.”

“One of us said, ‘You know, wouldn’t it be wonderful to be able to just touch that back?’ And before we knew it, we were talking about who would have the guts, the nerve, the bravery to touch her. We all put up a couple of dollars and said the first person who leans over and touches her will collect the money. And I, with bravado — I was kind of a wise-guy young man — leaned over quickly and just touched her with my forefinger.

“I thought I’d touch her and maybe she wouldn’t even feel the touch. But she swung around and said in the loudest voice imaginable: ‘Who did that?’ And we just went into our clothes to hide. It was just the most horrible moment you could possibly imagine. And her friends said, ‘Come on, Marilyn,’ and they calmed her down and turned her around. I collected the 10 bucks and we got out of there.”

-- Maureen Dowd at The New York Times

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( Pics )

Sunday Night

Sammy and Ash come inside of their own volition, albeit somewhat hesitant of step. It had started raining lightly, and more concerning, the lighting is really putting on a show. Although it will probably be another one of those ten-minute light showers, or maybe a couple of them over the course of the night, I want the cats in. Coco was the odd cat out, but she was lying pretty on the chair. When I went to make a grab for her, she did not run away. So, we’re settled in cozy-like for the night, and the cats got to enjoy some quality time running around outside and shouldn’t be feeling too cramped and claustrophobic.

Coco

Oh, fuck! Coco threw up, and she chose the bed to receive her tidings. In truth, the bedding in the big room (as with the bedding in my room) has long been in need of a washing. The main problem is that it’s just a few minutes shy of eleven in the evening, which means my earliest bedtime would have to be around 12:30. I was planning on a late night in order to enjoy some quality time with “Next Life Might Be Kinder”, but not that late.