Spring Valley Animal Farm

On Saturday we took a walk on the grounds of Spring Valley, where we find ourselves fairly often. In every season. Less often we make it all the way to the part called Volkening Heritage Farm, a small open-air museum that evokes farms of the late 19th century in this part of Illinois, but we did this time. To visit the pigs, for one thing.

I seem to remember seeing a sign posted at the farm once upon a time, something along the lines of All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.

Maybe I’m thinking of somewhere else. Anyway, the pigs were doing what I assume are pig things, mostly rutting around in the dirt, oblivious (again, I assume) to their ultimate fate as meat.

Some of them, at least. The pigs we saw must have survived this year’s “From Hog House to Smokehouse” event, which was earlier this month. I figure it’s only a temporary reprieve.

The pigs weren’t the only animals around. A couple of cows made an appearance as well.

And some deer.

I figure they roam Spring Valley as a whole, and don’t reside on the farm.

Charcoal Inferno

Warmish by day, chilly at night, though not quite freezing most of the time. Today was clear and, since our deck has a southern exposure, it was warm enough out there to eat lunch in some comfort.

On Friday, which wasn’t quite as warm, I got started on building a back-yard fire a little later than planned, as the daylight ebbed away. At first it didn’t catch, but eventually it did. I’ve documented fires out back before, but not the charcoal chimney in use.

Doing my (very) little bit to release carbon into the atmosphere.

Eventually, all the charcoal caught fire.

A small inferno? Can infernos be small?

It was hot enough to cook brats, at least, once I tumped over the charcoal chimney (carefully) and put on the grill. The last outdoor cooking this year, and probably the last until April or May.

More Manhole Covers

Almost warm today, except in the house, where I maintain temps at a skinflinty 68° F. in the colder months. It wasn’t warm enough outside to raise the inside temps, and it was so windy I decided not to built the possible last back-yard fire of the year. Maybe tomorrow.

One thing leads to another online, and from Hello Kitty I eventually made my way to the Atlas Obscura article on Japanese manhole covers.

“In Japan, many manhole covers are works of urban art — elaborate, curious, distinctive, even colorful,” AO notes. “They have become a tourist destination unto themselves, and attract a legion of dedicated manhole enthusiasts who travel the country to visit some of the thousands of unique designs.”

This seems to be a thing that has happened in the about 30 years since I lived there, so I’d never heard of it. At least, the article puts the origin of the covers as a local initiative in 1985, and it probably took a while to become a mass phenomenon.

“Typically, ‘local manholes’ or ‘design manholes’ feature elements special to a particular location: a town emblem, landmark, event, or official bird or flower,” the article says. “While there is some logic to the placement of the covers… [some] appear to have been placed without rhyme or reason.”

The last image in the article, depicting Osaka Castle, would hew to its place even without the kanji for Fukushima Ward, Osaka – it has the miotsukushi.

That’s something to look for, should I make it back to Japan. In the meantime, I sometimes look down at manhole covers in other places. Such as in Ireland and Spain, and in San Antonio more recently. Here’s one weathered by many decades, probably.MANHOLE COVER San Antonio

At least the lettering is barely visible. A much newer cover reminds us to protect the downstream fish.MANHOLE COVER San Antonio

East Jordan Iron Works are headquartered in Michigan, and the company these days is known by the less specific moniker, EJ Group. No substance to that name, if you asked me.

Simple, but with a certain style.MANHOLE COVER San Antonio

Not a manhole cover, but sharing a similar shape, and displaying an intricate design, at Lake Plaza in Elmendorf Lake Park in San Antonio.MANHOLE COVER San Antonio

Best visibility would be with a drone, looks like, but the edge-on view isn’t bad.

Hello Kitty at 50

Yet another press release that isn’t in my professional bailiwick appeared in my flooded in box the other day, except maybe you could call Hello Kitty, in some cases, part of experiential retail. Anyway, the cover letter for the release begins (all sic):

Happy Anniversary Hello Kitty!

The loveable character from SANRIO® has inspired generations with her message of friendship, kindness and inclusivity for 50 years. In celebration of this milestone, fans old and new will be introduced to several new digital and virtual opportunities to engage with Hello Kitty online, including an AR (Augmented Reality) app, short animations on TikTok, monthly promotions in My Hello Kitty Cafe on Roblox and a presence in the digital world of Zepeto. Hello Kitty is also receiving the Cultural Ambassador Award from the Japan Society of Northern California, recognizing her as an international symbol of peace and friendship.

For me, Hello Kitty falls into that category of distinctly Japanese creations, along with the likes of pachinko, most manga and tea ceremony, that flutter off in the distance, visible in passing, but which has never has excited much interest. Just a matter of personal taste. As Sanrio would tell you – is trying to tell the world – the curious anodyne feline does excite interest among many.

Also, I had to look up Roblox and Zepeto, which are an online gaming platform and an app to create avatars, respectively. I don’t expect to interact with them in any way. Sounds like something from the golden age of pulp SF: Zepeto of the planet Roblox, terror of the galaxy.

Desiderata, Revised

When I was young, I used to write parodies of all sorts of things — songs, as you might expect, but also such items as job applications and income tax forms. I came up with a parody of the first few chapters of the Book of Genesis that got some traction once at a high school speech tournament in the humorous reading category or some such. I made it to the semifinals, but was disqualified when the judges found out I’d written it myself; we weren’t supposed to be reading original material.

Juvenile works, but I was a juvenile. And juvenile silliness beats juvenile delinquency anytime.

Not long ago, I happened across an online mention of “Desiderata,” something I hadn’t thought about in years, and in re-reading it, my old instinct for parody woke up and yawned and stretched. Now that needs to be made fun of, I thought.

Further investigation revealed that the text is in the public domain now. Of course, you ought to be able to parody anything, regardless of its copyright status, but even so it was nice to know that I can play with the thing, no questions askable.

This is what I came up with.

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and turn off that damned phone.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons, since that is less trouble.
 
Speak your truth quietly
and clearly; but remember people rarely listen anyway.
Listen to others,
since you never know what weird things you’ll hear.
 
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, because
they are assholes, and who needs that?
If you compare yourself
with others, you’ll be upset, but you’ll do it all the same.
But at least you’ll be glad there are
lesser persons than yourself; that will make you feel better.
 
Enjoy your achievements as well
as your plans. Might as well.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time,
except when you are laid off and
find that your skills are obsolete.
 
Exercise caution in your business affairs; full stop.
Most people are actually honest,
but no one ever got rich being honest.
Many persons strive for high ideals,
and there is heroism, but mostly people just watch those things on TV and in movies.
 
Be yourself. Unless you’re an asshole, though you probably wouldn’t be self-aware enough to know that.
Especially, do not feign affection. Your partner will figure it out soon enough.
Neither be cynical about love;
it is as perennial as the grass. And dandelions.
 
Don’t expect love to be the same in middle age as in your youth.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, and act your age, for crying out loud.
Surrender the things of youth, or you’ll be ridiculous.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. Also, have some money in the bank.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness, or watching TV news that’s out to scare you for ratings.
 
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself. Perfection is a delusion.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. Keep telling yourself that.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Keep telling yourself that, too.
 
Therefore be at peace with God, or you’ll regret it, big time.
Whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life
keep peace with your soul. Again, turn off the phone. It really helps.
 
With all its sham, drudgery,
and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world. Especially on Friday afternoons.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Smile, damn you, smile.

~Max Ehrmann, with minor modifications by Dees Stribling

South Ridge Park, Hoffman Estates

Sunny and nearly warm on Saturday, at least for a few hours. Time for a stroll around South Ridge Park in Hoffman Estates.South Ridge Park, Hoffman Estates

Perhaps a mile all the way around the pond. Not crowed on the path at all.South Ridge Park, Hoffman Estates South Ridge Park, Hoffman Estates South Ridge Park, Hoffman Estates

South Ridge is one of a small string of parks in that part of the village connected by walking paths, all located away from main streets. The better to be enjoyed mostly by locals, no doubt.South Ridge Park, Hoffman Estates South Ridge Park, Hoffman Estates

Skipped the playground, which includes (not pictured) an obstacle course for small fry. These days, our small fry are large fry. But there were a number of families around, enjoying the playground equipment on a Saturday afternoon in the park.

A Few Japanese Woodblock Prints

About six years ago, when we went an exhibit of early Soviet art at the Art Institute, we also took a look at some Japanese woodblock prints, which were in one of the East Asian galleries. Not Edo-era prints, which I think are better known, but early Showa works.

Such as “Spring Night at Ginza” (1934) by Kasamatsu Shiro.

“Bell Tower in Okayama” (1947) by Kawase Hasui.

“Ginza at Night” (1945 reprint of 1929 design) by Kawakami Sumio.

“Bar Bacchus in Ginza” (1929) by Oda Kazuma, which is actually a color lithograph.

Those two especially would make good postcards.

Armistice Day 2023

A public domain image borrowed from an article by Joseph E. Persico, published by Military Times in 2017.

Note the date of the paper: November 7, 1918. As I understand it, there was a false alarm about an armistice on that day that was picked up by the AP and spread at the speed of telegraphy.

The article tells the story of men who fell on November 11 that year, in spite of the armistice, a bloody coda for four bloody years. Including the story of Henry Gunther who, for official purposes at least, was considered the last American killed in the war. Official time of death: 10:59 am, as he unaccountably charged Germans with machine guns.

He was one among thousands. “Losses on all sides that day approached eleven thousand dead, wounded, and missing,” Persico notes.

“Indeed, Armistice Day exceeded the ten thousand casualties suffered by all sides on D-Day, with this difference: The men storming the Normandy beaches on June 6, 1944, were risking their lives to win a war. The men who fell on November 11, 1918, lost their lives in a war that the Allies had already won.”

Cave Hill Cemetery, Louisville

Wrapping up a fun long weekend is always a bit of a downer, but so it goes. Rather than grind all the way north from Nashville on Monday, I decided to pause on the return in Louisville. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent any time there – 1990? – though I’ve passed through many times since then. This time, I got off I-65 and made my way to Cave Hill Cemetery.Cave Hill Cemetery

Cave Hill is a Class A cemetery. Or Class A+ or maybe A++. I ought to create an aesthetic rating system for cemeteries, but I think that would be a lot of work. Enough to say that Cave Hill has everything a top cemetery should have: a vast variety of standing stones, plain to elaborate, including a lot of funerary art and mausoleums and a scattering of odd memorials; historic burials of those notable locally and a few famed worldwide; a Victorian rural cemetery movement pedigree; hilly contour (in places where that is possible) and enough mature trees, bushes and flowers to count as an arboretum; water features; and a chapel or two.

By those criteria, Cave Hill is the complete package. Definitely in the same league as Bonaventure in Savannah, Forest Lawn in Buffalo, Hollywood Forever in Los Angeles, Hollywood in Richmond, Saint Louis No. 1 in New Orleans, Green-Wood in Brooklyn, Woodlawn in the Bronx, Bellefontaine in St. Louis, Laurel Hill in Philadelphia, Woodland in Dayton and Graceland or Rosehill in Chicago.

Bonus in early November: fall foliage.Cave Hill Cemetery Cave Hill Cemetery Cave Hill Cemetery Cave Hill Cemetery

Funerary art, some relatively modest.Cave Hill Cemetery Cave Hill Cemetery Cave Hill Cemetery

Funerary art, more monumental.Cave Hill Cemetery Cave Hill Cemetery Cave Hill Cemetery Cave Hill Cemetery

Structures.Cave Hill Cemetery Cave Hill Cemetery Cave Hill Cemetery

An oddity.Cave Hill Cemetery

Their ashes were probably scatted nearby. This stone is near a part of the cemetery called the Scattering Garden.Cave Hill Cemetery

Among scenes of fall, at least for now.Cave Hill Cemetery Cave Hill Cemetery

Cave Hill sports a number of notable permanent residents, but two far outshine the rest in terms of posthumous fame. At least for someone my age; I can’t vouch for later generations, who may not realize that Col. Sanders was an actual person, not just a cartoon mascot for KFC.Cave Hill Cemetery Cave Hill Cemetery

Even more famous worldwide, at least during the last half of the 20th century, was Muhammad Ali. At some point, he was thought to be the best-known person on Earth, or so I read. If not, he was in the running.Cave Hill Cemetery Cave Hill Cemetery

Even boxing-indifferent people like me knew him, since he was no mere prizefighter. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.

Centennial Park and the Vanderbilt Ramble

On Saturday the sun came up in Nashville and we weren’t there to greet it, having stuffed ourselves with hot chicken and beer the night before, and then engaged in conversation until fairly late. On the other other hand, we were there to see the sun set later that day from the roof deck.

Between those moments, we did a lot of walking. First we set out from our well-located short-term apartment along side streets past the site of our residence in the early ’80s, which was also the place we built an isolation tank for ourselves, then to Centennial Park, the crown jewel among Nashville parks.

On Saturday morning we merely crossed the park, where one of our number had been arrested for drinking beer in public 40-plus years ago, exiting it at the end (or beginning) of the short Elliston Place. We noted the buildings and businesses gone from that street – such as Rotier’s and its barbecue chicken without peer – and additions, none of any particular character.

The Elliston Place Soda Shop still serves tasty meat-and-threes, wonderful breakfasts, and incredible milkshakes, though in a larger location next door to its original site, where it reopened in 2021. The look is about right, a larger space but still a close homage to the original. The real test was the food, and the place passed with flying colors.

Then came the Vanderbilt Ramble: along sidewalks and across greens, past dorms and classrooms and other buildings, many tied to specific sets of memories: McGill Hall, Sarratt Student Center, the Main Library, Furman Hall, and 21st Avenue to the former Peabody Campus, where we noted that Oxford House had vanished, replaced by a parking garage still under construction; East Hall is still that and West Hall that; but Confederate Memorial Hall is merely Memorial Hall and the Social-Religious Building is named for some chancellor or other. Former Social-Religious has ten pillars out front, which to this day I believe stand for the Ten Commandments. On its expansive front steps, every day once upon a time, a blind student practiced his bagpipes. He wasn’t bad.

Further wanderings took us through Hillsboro Village, a storefront shopping district that existed 40+ years ago, though most of the shops are different these days. Returning to campus, we passed through the blocks of fraternity and sorority houses, once marked by regular streets, which are now pedestrian walkways. We had little to do with them in our student days, though one of us pledged ATO, which didn’t take. I noted the spot where I had a short springtime conversation with a tipsy future vodka billionaire. Indeed, besides going to the same junior high and high school as I did, he spent one year at VU.

The arboretum that is the Vanderbilt campus, including Peabody, was near peak coloration, a blaze of leaves in places. Many trees are enormous and stood well before anyone on campus today was born. The day was warm and campus alive with people, though never crowded anywhere. Students went about their weekend business, and paid no attention to the oldsters wandering by, with their collective recollections trailing behind them.

On Sunday afternoon, we spent more time in Centennial Park, legacy of a long-ago expo.Centennial Park

The temporary art building, a replica of the Parthenon, was rebuilt in the 1920s to be more permanent, and it abides. So does Athena inside.Centennial Park Centennial Park

She wears the world’s largest sandals, probably.Centennial Park

Though Steve and Rich had never seen her, Athena isn’t exactly new, having been completed by sculptor Alan LeQuire in 1990. I’ve visited a few times in the years since.

Much more recent (2016) is the Tennessee Women’s Suffrage Monument, also done by Alan LeQuire. None of us had seen it.Centennial Park Centennial Park

We visited a few other spots in the park, but forget to visit the new Taylor Swift Bench. Oops.