We lost another one of the good guys. I've got no time for a real post, so here are some links for the remembrance of Kurt Vonnegut.
"We are here to help each other through this thing, whatever it is."
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My father's fifth grade teacher, aged 100, died yesterday. Seems to me I must have met her at some point.
She loved bird watching, knitting sweaters and slippers for her loved ones, and her poodle, Jacques.
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This was in this morning's New York Times: Ann Richards, Ex-Governor of Texas, Dies at 73.
"Poor George, he can’t help it," Ms. Richards said at the Democratic convention in 1988, speaking about the current president’s father, former President George Bush. "He was born with a silver foot in his mouth."
George W. Bush (with Karl Rove as his campaing advisor) took the Texas governorship from her in 1994.
She got a motorcycle license when she was 60 years old.
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The Blog of Death lists their favorite entries of 2005, including the inventors of the bundt pan, tv dinner, and the crash test dummy, Tony the Tiger's voice, and "an insurance accountant who declared himself pope."
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John Spencer died. He was best known as Leo, White House ex-Chief of Staff on The West Wing, and Tommy, a lawyer on LA Law. I posted some years ago about my favorite Leo moment.
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I first heard of Paul Pena, the blind bluesman, in the movie Genghis Blues. That movie also exposed me to Richard Feinman and Tuvan throat-singing. Just the other day Steve Miller's "Jet Airliner" was playing on the radio and I said to KR, "That's Paul Pena's song."
Paul Pena died on Saturday.
Wow. Nipsey Russel too, on Sunday.
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Ten years ago our good friend Nancy took in an enormous black dog who she named Rollei. This was shortly after KR and I adopted Caleb, so we were pretty excited for her. My first impression was of a drooling mixture of black lab and, I think, moose. He was the tallest lab I had ever seen. He had a funny corkscrew tail (maybe there was some hog in his genetics too) and when he shook his head his jowls created the perfect launchpad for drool.
Nancy loved him from the first day. Rollei loved her back, and he went everywhere with her. When she bought a new house a year ago she chose one with few steps so he could get around with his arthritic hindquarters.
He was a terrific companion, and was always happy to see us. I stayed with him a few times when Nancy went out of town without him. He lay at my feet as I sat in the living room or on the back deck with my iBook in my lap. Even yesterday when KR and I went to say goodbye to him, he mustered enough strength to circle us and smile before folding his back legs under and lying down on his bed. We sat near, talking to him and petting him.
Goodbye, Rollei. You were a good dog, and a good campanion to our good friend. I hope Caleb is there, running with you.
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One hundred forty years ago today: Abraham Lincoln was "shot by an assassin." Quoting from the New York Times:
The theatre was densely crowded, and everybody seemed delighted with the scene before them. During the third act, and while there was a temporary pause for one of the actors to enter, a sharp report of a pistol was heard, which merely attracted attention, but suggesting nothing serious, until a man rushed to the front of the President's box, waving a long dagger in his right hand, and exclaiming "Sic semper tyrannis," and immediately leaped from the box, which was in the second tier, to the opposite side, making his escape amid the bewilderment of the audience from the rear of the theatre, and mounting a horse, fled.
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The excitement was of the wildest possible description, and of course there was an abrupt termination of the theatrical performance.
There was a rush toward the President's box, when cries were heard: "Stand back and give him air." "Has any one stimulants." On a hasty examination, it was found that the President had been shot through the head, above and back of the temporal bone, and that some of the brain was oozing out.
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The parting of his family with the dying President is too sad for description.
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When Seinfeld ended its run in 1998, Martin told the Associated Press at the wrap party, "Playing Jerry's dad was like having whipped cream on top of a mountain of ice cream."
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