The Year Dwindles Down

My house, so full of people a few days ago, is almost empty now.  Time to take down the Christmas tree and remove the colored lights from the house outside.

Only my eldest son remains and he is leaving for home in Spokane later today.  Then it will be just me, my remaining dog, my TV and my coffee pot.  I can live with that.

Writing as Therapy

For Christmas 1955, my mom bought me a Five Year Diary.  It covered the years 1956, 57, 58, 59 and 1960.  The pages were predated so I had to write every day to avoid a blank space.  I still have the diary.  I soon converted to one year hand-written diaries and kept them for 1961 - 1964.  It got me into the practice of journaling and I still do it to this day, but now it’s in the form of this blog and a Word file.  I still have all of the handwritten diaries, but hope to put them into Word format so they can be easily shared with friends and family.

Many therapists recommend keeping a journal.  It is good therapy, a way to figure life out and record a history of your failures and successes, your sorrows and joys.  I wrote about the assassination of JFK, Martin Luther King’s March on Washington, the first moon landing, and other historical events as they happened.

I generally want my personal journal to be separate from my blog, which is public.  When it is public you may have a tendency to self-censor, and to get the most benefit from journaling you need to be uninhibited in expressing yourself.  You are writing for yourself, not an audience, and that can make all the difference.

There is another journal that I would like to start, in the form of an autobiography.  It may or may not be public, or maybe limited to specific friends and relatives.  I don’t want my most memorable life experiences to be lost when I die.  It too will be in an online blog format.

Why make these journals in the form of online blogs?  Because if online, you can access them from your iPad or iPhone and post when the inspiration strikes, no matter where you are.  I have missed many chances to write when dependent on a laptop, but I always have my iPhone with me. 

Peace on Earth

The Best Version of “A Christmas Carol”

I have read Charles Dickens’s “A Christmas Carol” several times over the years.  I know the scenes and dialogue pretty well.  Because of this I judge each film version based on 2 major criteria:  (1) how close the dialogue matches the book, and (2) how good is the acting.

Many pundits have claimed the best film version is Alistair Sims 1951 version.  I just watched it and found it a flawed and inferior production.  It invents scenes and dialogue that do not appear in the book:  Scrooge visits his sister on her deathbed, and does the same for Jacob Marley.  He meets Marley at Fezziwig’s and the two conspire to take over the business.  None of this appears in the book.

I found the acting amateurish and unconvincing.  The actors are merely reciting lines with little feeling or emotion.

The best version of “A Christmas Carol” is George C Scotts’ 1984 version.  The dialogue is faithful and the acting superb.

Be careful however, I saw a televised presentation of the Scott version today and it had been edited with key scenes cut out to shorten it.  Look for a pay per view version or watch the DVD.  Be sure to watch the complete presentation.

Note:  the 1984 version of “A Christmas Carol” can be viewed in its entirety at Paramount Plus.

Christmas Songs of Old

Ancient sages like myself sometimes take a break from deep and sagacious thoughts and concentrate on old memories.  Today I thought about Christmas songs from my childhood and youth.

I remember “the Singing Cowboy” Gene Autry.  He sang “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” “Here Comes Santa Claus,” and “Up On the Rooftops.”  

Bing Crosby sang “White Christmas” and “Winter Wonderland.”

Burl Ives sang “Have a Holly Jolly Christmas” and “Frosty the Snowman.”

Judy Garland sang “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” from the movie “Meet Me in Saint Louis.”

Dean Martin sang “Let It Snow.”

All these great artists are dead now, but their songs live on.

Elon Musk on “Wokeness.”

Elon Musk is a great inventor and entrepreneur.  He’s more than that:  he’s a great role model for American youth and an outspoken enemy of leftist bullshit.   I like this guy.

First Day of Winter

Today was the first day of winter, and it has been very cold here in Northern California at 53-54 degrees Fahrenheit.  That’s warm for most of the country but not here.

Two of my three sons are here for Christmas and the third will be here soon. The house is filled with relatives.  

Democrat Extremism and Habeas Corpus

Several dozen civilians who were arrested during the January 2021 protest in Washington D.C. are still in jail.  Almost a year has passed, and the prisoners have not been indicted or charged with any crimes.  This appears to be an infraction of the doctrine of Habeas Corpus, the right to know the charges against you and the right to a speedy trial.  These imprisoned citizens are in fact, political prisoners.  

What is Habeas Corpus?

A writ requiring a person under arrest to be brought before a judge or into court, especially to secure the person's release unless lawful grounds are shown for their detention.

It appears obvious that the Democrat investigation of the Jan 6 brouhaha is an attempt to invent criminal charges against Donald Trump.  No doubt some of the desperate prisoners may hope to regain their freedom by playing along with the Democrat fraud.  We shall see.

Faith in God. Need it, Don’t Have It.

When I was 19, I camped out at a beach near Santa Cruz, California.  There was a blue tide that night, where the incoming whitecaps weren’t white, but a glowing neon blue.  The sea was full of dinoflagellates, microorganisms that glow blue.  It was eerily beautiful, and walking on the wet sand caused a flurry of blue sparkles around each footstep.

I sat down and watched the incoming waves and was suddenly hit with a powerful mystical experience.  My mind expanded, I felt a oneness with all of nature, and realized that there is no death.  I never felt closer to God than I did at that moment.  

I wish I could recapture the spirituality that I gleaned that night on the beach.  I need it, as I feel that my connection with the Divine has been seriously eroded from many traumatic events in the years since.  I pray but do not feel that I am heard.

Life - A Tale Told By an Idiot

Was Shakespeare right?

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

From MacBeth’s Soliloquy

Or in the cold language of the modern era, life sucks and then you die.