Christmas — Midseason Report; Happy New Year

Christmas — Midseason Report.  Well, since yesterday was the sixth day of Christmas, I guess I can give you a report on the season thus far.

Christmas gifts are easy to list. My brother an s-i-l in Japan sent the long underwear I had asked for — this year in colors — and a band to go around the midriff and keep my intestines, liver, and kidneys warm. My big brother gave me a fancy alarm clock, a subscription to "Sail" magazine, and a "Why Do Cats Do That?" wall calendar (not the usual Red Sox) to go in the kitchen — soon I'll have to go to the mall to get calendars for the bedrooms at half price: Japan, castles, and Red Sox, if I can find them.

Dinner at my aunt's was a pleasant affair. There were six of us: my aunt, her best friend, an eighty-something man and woman, and my brother and me. We had roast lamb for dinner and some fairly interesting and wide-ranging conversation. Stayed there for about five hours.

There was a dusting of snow on Christmas Day and maybe an inch on Sunday (sixth day). Now it's getting really cold. Days 2 through 6 were pretty calm. My brother was here the whole time, except for a couple of times going into Boston for a few hours. We had a beef rib roast on Wednesday (which my brother said was better than the lamb the day before) and the leftovers made a good dinner on Saturday. Friday, it was my version of shrimp scampi (with a leek and some green pepper) alongside tri-color rotini with alfredo sauce. I didn't take pice because I thought I'd already done it. Next time, I guess.

Happy New Year.  Still almost four hours to go, here, which is not to soon to wish all my readers a very happy and holy New Year. May all the good from 2012 continue and increase, and may all the bad things be left behind.

I don't make new year's resolutions, but I've made some small steps forward in my spiritual life over the past couple of weeks, and I'm hoping to continue with them. If you've made any resolutions, I hope you'll do well with them, but if you don't keep them all, don't get discouraged. Habits can be hard to change or establish. So you can keep trying, one step at a time.

Merry Christmas

I got home from Midnight Mass a little while ago and before I wrap my presents for my brother, I want to wish a Merry Christmas to all my readers and all those you love.

An Update — 2012/12/19

Not too much worth writing home about, but here's a bit.

A Night at the Cinema.  Tuesday of last week I went to the Cabot Street Cinema to see the 2011 movie "Wuthering Heights." I've never read the book, but I knew that it had to do with the doomed romance of Cathy and Heathcliff. What a shock the movie was! It was well made, but the central characters were awful people. (BTW, for those of you familiar with the book, the movie only covers the first generation. It stops with Heathcliff's gaining ownership of Wuthering Heights, and does not show the subsequent lives of his and Cathy's and Hindley's children.) The movie clearly depicts Hindley's brutality, Heathcliff's violence and Cathy's bad treatment of Heathcliff as well as her husband, Edgar. They're all a thoroughly unlikable lot. It is the Lintons' great misfortune to have come into contact with any of them, much worse for them that Edgar marries Cathy and Isabella marries Heathcliff. I found the brutality, the semi-squalid condition of the Earnshaw house, and the bleakness of the countryside quite unappealing, however true to the novel they may have been.


Christmas.  My brother and I are invited to our aunt's for Christmas dinner. That should be pleasant. She says that this year she will not cook a turkey — which probably makes this the first Christmas of my life when turkey was not Christmas dinner, although I can't be absolutely sure of the first three or four years of my life. I suppose I could get a bit of turkey somewhere and have it for supper and pretend it was the real dinner, with the banquet merely lunch — as if there were some cosmic importance to my keeping the sequence of turkey dinners at Christmas unbroken. But nah. I'm getting a little bit flexible in my old age, and if it will be lamb or what have you for Christmas dinner, that's okay — as long as it isn't bean sprouts and tofu. And I'm not going to buy a turkey and cook it on Sunday or Wednesday: too much leftovers.

I've been thinking a bit about what I will have, expecting my brother to be here from Saturday night (when we'll go to a party) through New Year's Day. Today I bought a small chicken, which will probably be Sunday dinner and possibly yield enough leftovers for one lunch. I've been thinking of doing my shrimp thing for Christmas eve. I also have to cook meatloaves for the soup kitchen that day. I could possibly make an extra one for us to have. It would furnish at least two dinners. Maybe I could have a roast of beef — or pot roast or braised beef — for Wednesday (with leftovers one or two days). Maybe salmon on Friday, or shrimp if we didn't have it on Monday. The usual steak and baked potato on Saturday? It would be fun to celebrate New Year's Eve with lobster. If I can find a duck anywhere, that would be good for New Year's Day. That leaves Sunday — restaurant perhaps. I'm sure we'll get by somehow.

I've sent off the gifts to my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew, and I know basically what I'll be getting for my brother. Yikes! I haven't sent cards to my friends in Rothenburg. Now they'll never get there before Christmas.

It will be a busy time at the church, with me helping out here and there.

I still haven't put the candles in the windows. Maybe I will as soon as I finish this post. I've also got a few other decorations to display.


Other Stuff.  The car door handle has been repaired.

We had a prayer service this evening for the victims and mourners from the school shooting in Connecticut.

I posted on my music blog about the concerts I recently attended. Before the one at HMA I had dinner at the Scollay Square — got the same waiter as last time. Dang!

Theology of the Body 2012/12/12

"Man and woman were created for marriage. 'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh (Gen. 2:24). This introduces a new, creative aspect of human existence — procreation.

…

"It is interesting that Genesis draws a connection between sex and knowledge: 'Adam knew his wife.' The Hebrew word here,  jaddah, doesn't mean 'head knowledge' alone; it also refers to concrete experience. Significantly, the experience in which husband and wife unite so closely as to become one flesh is called 'knowledge.' …

"This term, 'knowledge,' raises human sexuality above the level of animals to the level of persons. Knowledge refers to the deepest essence of married life. In becoming one flesh, both men and women acquire knowledge through the body. A husband and wife come to 'know' the meaning of their bodies. In a unique way, the woman is given to the man to be known, and he is given to her. This experience of the gift makes them one without blurring their individuality.

"We all long to be known deeply for who we are. According to Genesis, a man and a woman can know each other in this deep way when they become one flesh.

"Three of the Old Testament prophets [Hosea, Isaiah, and Ezekiel] use this same word, 'knowledge,' to describe the union of God and his people [by saying that they will know the Lord or will know that he is the Lord]. …

"In the New Testament, Paul takes this further. He tells us that the union of husband and wife is a picture of Christ's love for the Church (Eph. 5:32).

"God knows us more than any other person possibly can and wants us to know him. Whether we are male or female, married or unmarried, young or old, this is the relationship to which Christ is calling each of us."


Italics in original, bold emphasis added.

An Update

Halifax.  I've told you about the trip. It turns out I couldn't afford it. When I added up all the expenses, they came to about $1,760 (including about $841 for transportation, $495 for meals and lodging, $183 for taxes, and $241 for tips, admissions, souvenirs, handouts, and credit card foreign transaction fees). Most of that went on my credit cards, and for the first time in years, I wasn't able to pay the total balance in November. It will probably be several months before I get completely caught up, what with real estate tax installment due in January and yacht club dues in February and March. Normally I probably could have handled it, but it came on top of my hernia operation and the replacement of a crown on one of my molars.

Brother.  The surgery seems to have been a success. He wasn't in any apparent pain, but of course there is always some soreness which takes a while to go away.

Shows.  You can read about the symphony concerts I've attended over on my music blog. I went to four in November, including one with my brother, on the day after Thanksgiving. There were also two "social evenings," including concerts, at the Harvard Musical Association. On both of those evenings, I had dinner at the Scollay Square restaurant.

Restaurant.  The Scollay Square's prices seem lower than ever, which makes it more affordable, but cuts into the amount I can give as a tip without seeming extravagant. The first evening, Wendy the waitress recognized me immediately and greeted me by name. We had a bit of a chat about going to symphony. The other time, last Friday, Wendy wasn't there, and a somewhat unattractive guy named Edvaldo had replaced her. There was nothing really wrong with the service, but there was also none of the friendliness I had had from Seth and Wendy (or Natalya or Phil). There are a couple of better-looking waiters; one's okay and the other reminds me of Tommy Kirk from various Disney productions.

Car.  Friday evening, the driver's door handle broke off in my hand. There is enough left behind to make it possible to reach into the well and pull up on two thin pieces and get the door open. Hopefully it can be glued back together, replaced with some sort of jury rigged piece of stuff, or replaced with a new handle.

Thanksgiving.  My brother and I were invited to Thanksgiving dinner at some friends' house. The couple are about our age, and they were being visited by their son, daughter-in-law, and grandchildren, ages 4 and 7. The children were reasonably well-behaved most of the time, and the dinner was good.

Theology of the Body 2012/11/28

"Man was created as the highest visible sign of God's gift of creation … . Among living creatures, man alone is able to accept the gift. And he has the freedom to give himself in return.  One aspect of [his] likeness [to God] is his awareness of the nuptial meaning of the body, in the context of original innocence."

"… [W]e're still at the threshold of man's history. Adam and Eve haven't crossed the boundary of original sin — they're still enraptured by the mystery of creation … its innocence, grace, love, and justice … hidden in their hearts. 'God saw all that he had made, and it was very good' (Gen. 1:31).

"The body is a primordial sacrament, a visible sign of God's invisible mystery. This is the mystery of truth and love, of the divine life, in which the human person really participates. The body alone is capable of making visible the invisible. It was created to be a sign of God's love in the visible world. (Emphasis added.)

"… By means of the physical body, the human person is a visible sign of the love out of which God created all things. Against this backdrop, we can understand more fully the sacrament of marriage as it was instituted in the beginning: 'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh' (Gen. 2:24).

"Genesis 2:23-24 narrates the first feast of human love. Very soon, the shadow of sin and death will darken this holy celebration. But from the beginning, we also have hope. The fruit of love — of which the body is a sign — is not death, but life."

More Memories of 51 Years Ago, with Reconsiderations

Ian's comment on my post of a couple of days ago has got me reconsidering how I thought about Tom and about myself. What was the difference between Tom, so self-assured, and me, so worried?

I don't think it had to do with being sexually active. Could it be that he hadn't become aware of his orientation? I hadn't been aware of mine until the end of my junior year in high school, and it was only specific words from a classmate which caused the realization to dawn. If that hadn't happened, I could have entered college blissfully unaware that I was homosexual. So why not Tom? In that case it wouldn't have felt at all amiss for him to seek to be as close as possible to me (or any other object of his affection), whereas I was constantly afraid of falling into sexual sin; and, as I explain below, my fears were at least somewhat exaggerated and misplaced.

That line of thinking is reinforced by something he said when he introduced himself to me. He explained that he had a gift for recognizing holiness in others. He had seen it in a fellow student at St. Joseph's Prep in Philadelphia and had become good friends with him. Now he recognized it in me. And  it was in that context that he raised the question of daily Mass attendance. While it is possible that it was actually holiness that he recognized, I think it's more likely that it was his gaydar which he misunderstood, just as I mistook my high school crushes for simple friendship. I'm sure that he was absolutely sincere in thinking it was an attraction to holiness that he felt.

But if, despite all that, he was also aware of his orientation, then he has to have had a different take on the nature of sin. He had had the benefit of four years of Jesuit teaching in high school, where I had only had an hour a week of religious instruction. So he would probably have had a much fuller explanation of what constituted sin than I had. At that point in my life, I was very badly afflicted with scrupulosity (see also here and here). As a result, I was very much focused on avoiding sin. Perhaps even more important, I was unclear on distinguishing temptation from sin and I was unaware that sexual desire, as part of human nature, is morally neutral in itself, even though it gives rise to plenty of temptations. (This other post may also help explain my thinking at that stage.) As a result, I felt I should be suppressing all my sexual feelings as a way of avoiding temptation. Tom, on the other hand, may have already learned that it is both impossible and unnecessary to suppress sexual feelings. He may have known what I didn't learn until much later, that an intimate friendship which does not include actual sexual activity is not wrong. (Hence he saw nothing wrong in having his bed touching his roommate's.)

What if I were to meet a "Tom" today? Well, the thing is, I didn't find him especially attractive, although he was okay as a friend until he got too clinging and I got worried. But suppose there were some degree of mutuality in the attraction? If there were no more to it that, I think I'd be willing to enter into a close friendship, with the intention of keeping overt sexual activity out of it. Or suppose the feelings were of friendship without a real sexual component. Suppose I just liked the guy. Well, that's what I have with Zack, whom I hung out with several times when he lived in eastern Massachusetts and who has visited me several times since he moved away.

Halifax — October 26, 2012

My return flight to Boston was scheduled for 4:30 p.m., so the fact that the alarm clock didn't wake me and I slept until 8:30 a.m. was not a problem. I had chosen a late departure time to avoid being rushed n the morning and to give myself part of another day to see Halifax. As it happened, I decided that there really wasn't anything else really important to see, so I might as well just head out to the airport. But then I had one good idea.

Thinking back to my visit to the museum on Thursday, it occurred to me that it would be interesting to see the Hydrostone District, which was the area rebuilt after the explosion. So instead of taking the taxi directly to the airport bus stop, I asked the driver to swing through the Hydrostone. The houses are modest 2 or three story structures built in a style fairly common in the early 20th Century. There are also attractive storefronts. Many of the buildings have had siding added which covers the actual hydrostone. Here's a video of the district.

I think the video shows more of the district than I saw from the taxi.

We got to the bus stop just in time to miss the 11:20 bus, so I had to wait for the 12:20. "Darn!" you say. But wait. Albemarle street is just down the hill from the Citadel, so I was very well positioned to hear the noon gun. It's loud enough to startle people who weren't expecting it, like a couple of guys approaching the bus stop, who jumped slightly before they realized what it was.

There were no adventures on the trip to the airport. In the airport there was a military veteran selling (artificial) poppies for Remembrance Day (Veterans Day in the U.S.). The selling and wearing of poppies on Nov. 11 is not so common around here as it used to be, so I decided to take advantage of the opportunity. The poppy is of some kind of plastic, textured to feel like velvet on the front, with a long pin for its stem. It was the only poppy I saw on Nov. 11. After buying the poppy, I went to the waiting area for my flight and noticed a Tim Hortons coffee stand, and bought a small cup of coffee and a bag of ground coffee. Tim Hortons is a Canadian chain of coffee and snack shops, very similar to Dunkin' Donuts in the United States. The chain bears the name of its founder, who was a Canadian Hockey player. The flight home was uneventful.

There was one thing in Halifax that especially puzzled me. The street numbers on the streets running east-west, away from the harbor, begin slightly above 5000. My first hypothesis was that when a regional municipality was formed, including Dartmouth and other areas on the other side of the harbor, the system was changed to integrate the numbers, with numbers under 5000 to the east of the harbor and above 5000 to the west. But on the bus ride to the airport, I was able to see enough street numbers to disprove that hypothesis. Numbers began at 1 on each street and rose as one headed away from the harbor. This evening, as I was writing this post, I think I've figured it out. I noticed that Robie Street, which runs from south to north from near one end of the peninsula to near the other end, has numbers from 820 to 3899. Finally the light bulb appeared over my head: it seems that the numbers under 5000 are used on streets going from south to north, and those over 5000 on those from east to west.

Happy Thanksgiving! and Memories of 51 Years Ago

Happy Thanksgiving

I've posted about Thanksgiving four times in the past three years. You can read about what my traditional Thanksgiving dinner was like. In the earliest post, you can also find links to two settings of the Te Deum, the ancient Catholic hymn of thanksgiving. Our parish's Mass for Thanksgiving will, regrettably, not include any version of the Te Deum. (If I were a priest …)

This year, my brother and I will again be going to the friends' who hosted us last year.* So all I need to do is have food for the remainder of the weekend, which is hardly more than my weekly routine. I'll bake a couple of pies — mince for my brother, pumpkin for me. On Friday, we'll attend the matinee concert of the Boston Symphony (music by, Mozart, and Beethoven — eventually I'll post more about it on my music blog). There is also a social evening at the Harvard Musical Association that evening. I'll try to talk my brother into going to that as well. If we do that, it means eating at a restaurant Friday evening: one less meal for me to prepare.

Anyway, I wish you all a very good day, and a Happy Thanksgiving to all who observe the holiday.

*As I was writing the next section of this post, I got a call from our hostess. Her son was in an accident near New Haven and may decide to go back to New York. If that happens, our host and hostess will bring the dinner down to them. I'm not going to try to get a turkey, just in case. Fortunately, I have some frozen shrimp, so I can put on a very tasty, if thoroughly non-traditional dinner if I have to.


Memories of 51 Years Ago

In the autumn of 1961, I was in my sophomore year of college (or university, as you Europeans say). Early in the semester, a freshman introduced himself to me. I'll call him "Tom." He asked me if I went to Mass every day. I told him that I didn't, and he asked why? After all, there was (according to our faith) the supreme act of worship, in which we were privileged to receive the very Body and Blood of Jesus himself, for the forgiveness of our sins and the nourishing of our souls in grace; and the chapel was in the middle of the quadrangle behind the dormitory complex. I had to agree that not to go was a wasted opportunity and began a practice of daily Mass attendance which I continue to this day.

It soon became apparent to me that he was very much in love with me. For one example, I told him that I had a ticket for a concert downtown by the folk group The Weavers. He practically insisted that I get him a ticket also, which I did, but since the tickets had not been bought at the same time they were widely separated. Rather than sitting in his seat, he sat on the stairs next to my aisle seat.

Although I did not reciprocate his feelings, we were in some of the same organizations and were seen together often enough that people remarked on it. Since I was firmly closeted and he was obviously homosexual (to me anyway, and I thought, to others), I was not only uncomfortable with his clinginess but worried about what people would think. At one point I persuaded him to let me introduce him to the priest/counselor I had begun to see for help in overcoming my homosexual inclinations.  Eventually, he got a roommate who took his focus away from me, and although we had occasional contact, the closeness went away.

Before that happened, however, he invited me to stay overnight with him on my way home for Thanksgiving. He lived in Philadelphia and I lived in eastern Massachusetts. The train route from Washington, D.C. to Boston ran through Philadelphia. I could hardly refuse, or so it felt. So I agreed. At some point as the visit approached, he asked me a hypothetical question: if I were in a situation where another man and I had only one bed available, would I sleep in the bed with the other man. I said I wouldn't.

At his home, I learned in conversation that his parents were friendly with a law school classmate of my father's. I don't recall many details of my stay. What I do remember is that I had a bedroom to myself, and in the morning he took me to Mass at a convent of cloistered nuns. As I recall, we actually crossed a river to get there, so it was in a suburban area, I suppose. It was a very quiet and reverent Mass. Were we able to have breakfast afterwards in a guest dining room? The thought just came to me.

As I said, eventually, we became less close. The last real contact I remember was when I wrote him to tell him I was entering the monastery. He wrote back to suggest that it might not be wise given my sexual orientation. Maybe there were a few Christmas cards after that.

Some years ago, I bought an alumni directory of the university, and his name wasn't in it. Subsequent directories have also lacked his name. So I wonder what happened. Did he just break off contact with the university? Did he die? I'd like to know but don't know any way to find out.

For many years, in the autumn, when the weather was like that at the time of my visit to Philadelphia, I've thought of Tom and hoped he's okay, whether in this life or the next.

Halifax — October 25, 2012

On Thursday morning something happened to wake me up early without benefit of alarm clock. By 7:15 I was showered, shaved, dressed, and downstairs for breakfast. It was still before sunrise. After some time for prayer, I left for downtown. A leisurely stroll down Cogswell Street and along the waterfront brought me to the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic at 10:15. The wiki link tells you about all the things they have, and I saw most of them. My primary objectives were the materials about the Halifax Explosion and the Titanic.

I had heard of the explosion. I knew that Massachusetts had been so generous in sending relief that Nova Scotia's enduring gratitude is expressed by the sending of a large Christmas tree to Boston every year. But I had not know of the extent of the death and destruction in the largest man-made explosion before Hiroshima. It was truly tragic. The exhibit, which includes a film and a number of displays, is very moving.

Halifax's principal connection to the Titanic was the sending of two ships to look for survivors and recover victims. Their regular work was laying and repairing transatlantic telephone and telegraph cables, so they were accustomed to working in those waters. As it happened they found no survivors but recovered hundreds of bodies. They had undertakers aboard and embalmed all they could until they ran out of embalming fluid. Those they could not embalm they gave a respectful burial at sea. Families came to take some of the bodies, but others were unclaimed, so several hundred victims were buried in Halifax cemeteries, according to their religion when that could be determined.

Beyond those exhibits, there are numerous small boats, mostly sailboats, displays relating to boatbuilding, sailmaking, shipping, wartime naval operations, etc. After a couple of hours in the museum, I went to the adjacent dock, to their ship the CSS Acadia, which had served for more than 50 years in the work of charting the ocean off Atlantic Canada. It was fun going around and up to the upper decks and finding out something of how they operated. The surveyors (hydrographers) were civilians, but the crew of the ship were navy. I was also delighted to find that they had a resident cat, Erik the Red, and to make his acquaintance.

CSS Acadia

The cat Erik (on a staff member's jacket on a chart table)

George's Island in Halifax Harbor, with McNab Island in background

Canadian Naval Vessel returning to port. Acadia dipped her ensign in salute as the ship passed.

After several hours touring the museum, I went a few blocks up the hill to The Maxwell's Plum, which bills itself as an English-style pub. There I was able to sample some (32 oz. — it was on special on Thursdays) of the Garrison ale which the panhandling musician from Saskatchewan had praised two days earlier. It was quite good, although not the best brew I've ever had — that may have something to to with the breadth of the young man's experience compared to mine. Coincidentally, heading up Sackville Street to the pub, I realized that the spot where I encountered the teenaged panhandler Tuesday evening was just a block from a gay nightclub called Reflections. I wonder if that was merely a coincidence.

Interior of The Maxwell's Pub

A not untypical early 19th Century building on Water Street 

After lunch I went back to the museum on my all-day admission and spent another couple of hours until closing time. I arrived a few minutes late for the 5:15 Mass at the cathedral. Then I strolled up Spring Garden Road to South Park Street, where I looked at several monuments in Victoria Park: Robert Burns, Sir Walter Scott, and others. Victoria Park is the southern end of a succession of greenspaces extending about 1 1/2 km south from Halifax Common and including the grounds of the Citadel. That brought me to University Avenue. Symphony Nova Scotia was to give a concert that evening in the Dalhousie University Arts Center. By a wonderful serendipity the program was "Music of the Titanic Era." So I spent an enjoyable evening listening to mostly British orchestral music of the very early 20th Century.

SNS on the stage of Rebecca Cohn Auditorium moments before the concert

After that I was ready for dinner and headed to the Rockbottom Brewpub, after finding a place that advertised in the SNS program book already closed. Actually, when I got there, I had a decision to make. I figured it was my last chance to run into my cousin. Upstairs in the building is Your Father's Moustache Pub and Eatery, and in the basement is the Rockbottom. Ultimately I decided that if he was at either, he was more likely to be at the Rockbottom because it was open mic night, and he has appeared with his guitar at talent shows on campus. He wasn't there, but it was still an okay place  to have dinner at 10:30. I suppose I should have peeked in at YFM as well, but I didn't think it through as clearly as I'm doing right now. Oh, well.

Anyway, it was a very good day for me in Halifax.

Welcome, New Follower Shane

I happened to glance over at my "followers" on my front page and saw an unfamiliar avatar. I verified that it was new by checking the number, which had risen to 108. It's Shane! His blog is titled "I just want to be me," and this is the url.

Here's what Shane has to say about himself in his header:

I'm out of college and working on my career now. I live in western PA and took a job in CT for two years. Now I am back home and trudging through my student loans. This blog is intended to be a journal that otherwise I would normally consider writing on paper and keep private, but I've decided that stories (lives) are worth sharing.

He's been on Blogger since 2009 and has just resumed blogging after taking a year off. I was following when he was in Connecticut, and it was interesting reading. The new post looks promising too. So I hope he'll be posting more or less regularly, and I recommend checking it out.

Thanks for following, Shane.

Halifax — October 24, 2012

My first full day in Halifax dawned … I don't know exactly how, because I slept through my alarm. I've decided that it's just not loud enough when I'm in a deep sleep.

But I was still out of the hotel at about 10:15. Between me and the downtown lay the Halifax Citadel, to be taken. (Here are images, including several showing how the city and harbor extend below it.) I was there in good time for the 11:00 tour, which included a barracks room, a rifle shooting demonstration, the gunpowder magazine, the guard room and prison cell, and the firing of the noon cannon. Afterwards I strolled the ramparts, looked in at the orderly room and the tailor room and bought some post cards. All in all it was an interesting glimpse into 19th Century military life.

Barracks: 5 folding cots on each side; soldier's kit laid out on the opened cot

Rifle demonstration: reenactor of Highlander regiment, with winter trousers instead of kilt

Noon gun: cannon being prepared to fire, rolled into firing position, and secured after firing; reenactors represent an English cavalry unit

Orderly room: where the commanding officer conducted business

Tailor shop and tailor: each uniform was custom made for a proper fit

Outside the gate on the city and harbor side

At about 1:30 I started down, past the Town Clock, to the Grand Parade with St. Paul's Episcopal Church at one end, City Hall at the other, and monuments to the war dead and fallen peace officers on the grounds. Next I went to the waterfront, where I had lunch at Stayner's Wharf, followed by coffee at Tim Horton's. My next destination was Province House (which is the building where the provincial Legislative Assembly meets). On the grounds is a statue of Joseph Howe, whose trial in the 19th Century is credited with establishing freedom of the press in Canada.

War memorial: St, Paul's Church behind on right

Grand Parade: including memorials, and City Hall at north end

Province House

Joseph Howe Statue on the grounds of Province House

My next destination was Government House, the official residence of the Lieutenant Governor, who is the representative of the Queen in the Province. On Prince Edward Island and in New Brunswick I had taken tours of Government House, and I hoped one would be available there as well. I entered the grounds via a side gate, and went around into the spacious yard and took a couple of pictures and was approached (challenged, perhaps) by a Commissionaire. I stated my business and he huffily informed me that it was the residence of the Lieutenant (pronounced lefftenant) Governor, and not open to the public except on specified occasions. He escorted me back to the gate.

Government House: Commissionaire approaching in second photo

It was still about an hour before Mass time at St. Mary's Basilica Cathedral, so I snapped a couple of pictures of the statue of  Churchill on the library grounds one block uphill from the cathedral, then returned to the cathedral to wait for the 5:15 Mass. After that it was back uphill to the hotel, arriving at about 6:30.

St. Mary's Basilica Cathedral

Churchill Statue

As always, clicking on the pics enlarges them to show more detail.

Having been on my feet for most of the previous 8 hours, I didn't feel like going out again, so I had dinner in the hotel restaurant. It was definitely nouvelle cuisine. The curried tomato soup was good, as was the seared scallop main course, which included a braised beef short rib which was larger than all the scallops put together. Tasty though. And so to bed.

Theology of the Body 2012/11/13

Once more, I should point out that this series of posts titled "Theology of the Body" presents excerpts from Pope John Paul II's Theology of the Body in Simple Language, an adaptation made by Sam Torode and published by Philokalia Press. I recommend occasionally reviewing the series, which began in 2010, since my postings are not frequent enough to keep the whole thread of the work clearly in mind. Or since I began the series in the middle of the book, you could go back to the post of December 18, 2011, which is where I start making excerpts from the beginning of the book. It's all under the label "Theology of the Body."

"Adam and Eve realized they were naked at exactly the point where they ceased to be completely selfless gifts for each other. And, for the first time, they were ashamed.

"The Fall radically changed the way man experiences the body. This change involved the interior forces of man — the heart, mind, and will. It also affected man's sensitivity to the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Before the Fall, man was in complete communion with God; but sin separates us from him. We can see what a difference the Fall made by comparing our own experience with that of Adam and Eve as described in Genesis 2.

"When Jesus asked, 'Haven't you read that at the beginning the Creator "made them male and female"?' he directed us back to the mystery of creation. We must attempt to follow that direction, fully aware  of the gift of original innocence and how original sin separated us from that innocence. We are striving to understand the connection — made by Christ — between original innocence and our historical state after the Fall.

"We've tried to discern the original meaning of the body. We've seen how the body becomes a gift when it is given and accepted in freedom and innocence. This truth isn't relevant only to Adam and Eve before the Fall. It is central to God's design for the person and the body, both then and now. Sin has clouded our perception of the design, but it has not changed God's intent.

"In the beginning, man and woman were … given to each other by the Creator. This gift was not limited to the first couple, … but extends to the whole human family. Throughout all of history, the fundamental fact of human existence is that God 'made them male and female.'

"After the Fall, man lost his original grace, making it harder to see the nuptial meaning of the body. But the meaning of the gift remains inscribed in the depths of the human heart. Through the veil of shame, man must continually rediscover himself as the guardian of the gift. He must defend his body from being reduced to a mere object.

"By looking to the beginning, we can see more clearly who we are as persons, and how we should act. To make of ourselves a gift, and to accept others selflessly — this is the goal to which we should all aspire. For that reason, the nuptial meaning of the body is indispensable for knnowing who we are, who we were meant to be, and therefore how we should live in the world."

A Triumph in the Kitchen IMHO

I did a slightly different version of my Chicken Baked in Sauce with Vegetables, and I wish you could have been here to taste it. This time the vegetables were leeks and carrots and the soup was cream of celery. (No mushrooms because my brother is here.) But instead of just slicing the leeks and putting them on top of the chicken with the carrots, I sauteed the leeks and added them to the sauce.

To saute the leeks, first I cooked a slice of bacon in olive oil. I had cut the bacon into about 10 or 12 pieces. When most of the fat had cooked out of the bacon, I added the rinsed and chopped leeks (three fairly thin ones) which I had sprinkled with mild paprika, and sauteed until they were softened and lightly browned, sprinkling with ground savory along the way. I added several generous sprinkles of dried dill and twelve drops of Tabasco sauce to the celery soup before I stirred in the half can of milk as I heated it. I added maybe 1/4 teaspoon, maybe less, of Beau Monde Seasoning. Then I stirred in the sauteed leeks and bacon.

 I seasoned the chicken pieces with mild paprika, ground thyme, ground savory, a little pepper, and a generous amount of dried tarragon. Then four sliced carrots, dusted with ground thyme, and the sauce over all.

Though I say it myself, after an hour in the oven at 350°F, it was delicious!


Edited to add: Apart from the leeks and bacon and other variations mentioned above, there was one other difference in the meal as a whole. We had had rice pilaf the previous evening to accompany Baked Stuffed Haddock cooked with sliced summer squash instead of green peppers. So to go with the chicken dish I baked some Pillsbury Grands buttermilk biscuits.

Marriage Equality?

Jason Shaw has raised the question over on Twitter (@ItsJasonShaw) whether one can be gay and not support marriage equality. I answered, "Absolutely." To explain how this is possible isn't feasible within the restrictions of Tweeting, so here goes.

Our Declaration of Independence asserts the principle that "all men are created equal." But this does not mean that everybody gets treated exactly the same. It all depends on whether there is a difference which the state can rationally take into account. For example, criminals go to  jail, but not those found innocent. Blind people are not given licenses to drive motor vehicles. Children aren't allowed to vote. Married people can file joint tax returns and get lower tax rates than the single. Those with dependents get more of their income exempted from taxes than those without dependents.

The first question is whether there is any difference between male-female marriage and same-sex marriage. If there is, then the next question is whether that difference is a valid reason for different treatment under the law — for the law to call one marriage and confer various benefits on it, but not to apply the name and all attendant benefits on the other.

I think it is obvious that there is a difference. Same-sex couples cannot, by themselves, produce children. Only a male and female can do that.

Does the different potential for reproduction provide a rational basis for unequal treatment? It seems to me that the state can rationally want children to be born to produce the next generation; and it can rationally want them to be born into stable families in which they will be raised by their biological parents. Of course, there can be other arrangements made, case by case, to deal with situations where that is not possible or is unsuitable (death or unfitness of one or both parents, for example); and there have been occasional suggestions (cf. Plato's "Republic") that for the sake of equality all children should be taken from their parents as soon as possible after birth and raised in state nurseries. But these exceptions and alternative suggestions do not one make it irrational for the state to have a preference for biological parents raising their children in a family. Since same-sex relationships cannot satisfy these rational purposes but heterosexual marriages can, it is not irrational for the state to treat these different things differently.

This is not to say that gay couples don't love each other, aren't committed to each other, and can't love and care for children — just that it takes a man and a woman to make a child, and only a man and a woman can raise their biological children.

Some readers may not think that the procreation of the next generation within a family where the biological parents will normally raise them is important enough for the difference between same-sex and opposite-sex marriage to be the basis for unequal treatment. But that does not change the fact that there is a difference — a difference which I believe undercuts the passionate appeals based on equal rights.

So, if you want to advocate for same-sex marriage, go ahead. But please realize that your opponents don't necessarily regard gay people as inferior human beings, and don't make yourselves miserable or infuriated by seeing the lack of same-sex marriage as a denial of your humanity. We are dealing here with a question of how differently (if at all) to treat two different things.

Let me add, slightly off topic, that I think it is also worthwhile to reflect on the fact that for millenia, gay couples have been able to be happy together without being considered married in the eyes of the law. It is also worth remembering that the widespread acceptance of openly gay people as members of society is something that could only be dreamed about fifty years ago. Certainly, that acceptance needs to be upheld, and extended to pockets of society where it hasn't yet taken hold, but the progress has been little short of unbelievable.

So, yes, it is possible to be gay and to see heterosexual marriage as qualitatively different from same-sex relationships in ways that justify using different words to name each type of relationship and giving specific benefits and protections to heterosexual marriage.

Halifax — October 23, 2012

Just three months after my trip to Germany and France, I was traveling again, this time to Halifax, Nova Scotia. Ever since my cousin started university there (in 2008) I've had the idea that it would be a good idea to see the city while he was there so he could show me around, or at least point me in the right directions, maybe including some spots that are not part of the standard tourist itinerary and maybe showing his university. Unfortunately, that was not to be: he never responded to my Facebook posts, a FB message, or an e-mail. I've noticed since these attempts, that he almost never responds to anything on FB, so I think he just has so much coming at him from his 1424 friends that he doesn't even notice a lot of it.

The airport limo came for me at 5:20 a.m. for an 8:00 flight — way too early, but it's the latest they offered for my flight time. The flight was uneventful. As I waited for the bus into the city, about 20 miles away, a Haligonian who was also waiting pointed out on my map some of the major tourist attractions, which was helpful. The bus makes a stop in both directions about halfway between the airport and downtown, at a place called Fall River. Leaving the stop, the driver headed back to the airport, and when we stayed on the bus, he asked where we were going. We told him what had happened, and he took us to the city without stopping again at Fall River.

I had decided to get around the city by walking: it looked fairly compact on maps. That's why I didn't rent a car at the airport. I think that was a good decision, but I hadn't realized that Halifax slopes sharply up from the waterfront to the middle of the peninsula. Pulling my small suitcase and carrying the attache case with my books uphill for a half mile from the bus stop to my hotel was kind of tedious. I got to the hotel about 12:30. Earliest check-in time was 3:00, so I left my luggage and headed out. After lunch a traveling musician who was panhandling because he had been robbed told me that the best beer he had ever had was a Halifax brew called Garrison.

It occurred to me that the best way to spend the time until I could check in was to go to the university, about a mile away. Perhaps I'd run into my cousin, and if not, it would be worth seeing anyway — saving the full days to follow for the downtown area. If any of you know Halifax, I went form the hotel along Quinpool Road, then Oxford St., and back via University Ave. and Robie St. (I never did run into my cousin during my time in Halifax.)

Harvard St., a residential street off Quinpool Rd.

Flagpole at University of King's College.

The upper flag is that of the University, lower left is Nova Scotia.

The main building on the UKC quadrangle.

Three other sides are architecturally similar. The fourth is a lower (yellow stucco, as I recall) library building. The adjacent campus of Dalhousie University has similar stone buildings, maybe on a slightly larger scale.

I got back to the hotel about 4:15 and checked into the room shown below, with views to the north and north northwest.

More detail is visible if you click on the pictures to enlarge them.

Having walked enough, I took a taxi to the waterfront where I had a very expensive dinner at a steakhouse called "Cut." They dry age their steaks for 35 to 45 days and sell it by the ounce (with minimum of 10 ounces). Certain 16 oz. cuts are $100. I chose 11 ounces of a cheaper one, and it was only about $50. But there were the appetizer, sides, and beverages, bringing the total to about $90 before tax and tip. Well, it was a good meal, and I'm glad I went there; but I don't want to make a habit of spending that much for dinner.

Afterwards, I strolled along the waterfront for a bit, then headed back (uphill) to the hotel. There was a young panhandler sitting outside a Starbucks. I'd guess he was about 16 or 17 years old. I gave him a two dollar coin. I wish I had asked what had caused him to be on the street, just to give him the encouragement of a sympathetic word or two.

An Update

Sometime (hopefully) soon, I'll post about my trip to Halifax. But for now I'll tell about things closer to home.

Car.  Last summer, the odometer on my car reached 75,000 miles. It's a 1997 Toyota Camry, bought in July 1997. So that means I've driven it 5,000 miles per year. But I seem to be slacking off. It's still not up to 76,000.


Storm.  There was no major damage from Sandy here, but a large portion of a neighbor's tree fell on my garage in into my driveway. It didn't damage the garage, but it completely blocked the door.

Tuesday morning.

The neighbor has a chain saw and on Tuesday, he removed most of it, finished cutting it up on Thursday, and on Saturday trucked the small branches with leaves to the town dump.

Tuesday afternoon. Large pieces to the left, smaller branches to the right.

(As usual, you can click on the pics to enlarge.)

I guess I owe him dinner at a decent restaurant. I'll probably have to invite his wife too.

Shows.  You can read on my music blog about the symphony concert I went to on October 18. The following evening was the opening night of the season at the Harvard Musical Association: first the annual meeting, then a buffet dinner, then a concert. The meeting is usually pretty boring, and this was no exception, apart from a rather interesting explanation of getting recertified for occupancy by the fire department, with the second story fire escapes and increased restroom capacity gaining us an increase in the numbers allowed on the first floor. Dinner was good, but there are never tables (just chairs) at this affair, and keeping the plate on your lap with your glass at your feet isn't ideal. I enjoyed the music, but began to feel drowsy, so I left at the intermission.

The symphony concert on November 1 was part of my subscription, but we had Mass that evening for All Saints Day. I realized the conflict quite belatedly (i.e., on Tuesday), and in order to exchange my ticket for the Nov. 6 performance, I had to get it to the Symphony Hall Box office on Wednesday. Making a virtue of necessity, I decided to redeem one of my Huntington Theater "flexpass" tickets for Wednesday's performance of "Now or Later." So I went in in the late afternoon, exchanged my symphony ticket, had dinner, and went to the theater. The show was quite thought-provoking. It's election night and the son of the man who is winning the election has been photographed at a party costumed as Mohammed and videoed sucking a dildo held by a friend costumed as Pastor Bob, a nationally known evangelical leader. The son was protesting the willingness of some of his fellow students to ignore homophobia and gender discrimination in the Muslim world, but now he's being pressured to apologize. Is he entitled to be simply a private citizen, or must he give up some independence for the sake of the country's relations with the Muslim world?


Halloween.  The front doorbell has been repaired a number of times, but it never works very long. Since it's broken, to know when trick-or-treaters are coming, I have to leave the door open and sit nearby for about three hours. Going into Boston on Wednesday had the side benefit of getting me away from that nuisance.


Restaurant.  There is a small chain of restaurants under the name Petit Robert. They aim to give something of the cuisine of French bistros. I've enjoyed dinner several times at the downtown Petit Robert. This time the one on Columbus Ave. was just about halfway between Symphony Hall and the theater, so I decided to try it. It's not elegant, but the food was good. I started with an appetizer of veal and sweetbreads in puff pastry and continued with venison medallions. Both were quite good. The cheese plate was okay, but not exciting. The waiter was wearing a hockey mask for Halloween, so I asked what he thought of my Halloween costume: dress shirt, necktie, jacket. The restaurant is in two storefronts, and I was seated next to the large window. That let me see the steady stream of trick-or-treaters with their parents, joggers, and people walking dogs. The children were about evenly mixed between white and African-American, which suggested a comfortably mixed neighborhood.


Race Committee.  The second social evening of the HMA was on Friday, Nov. 2. I'd have gone to it, but that was also the evening of the end of season party of the Race Committee, which I attended. A pretty good time. I enjoyed conversing with a number of people. Toward the end, I was able to talk with Tim for a while.


Brother.  My brother is having some sort of procedure on Monday to deal with an enlarged prostate. They'll keep him in the hospital overnight. Then he'll come here for a couple of days. I wasn't thinking about that when I got the ticket for the Tuesday symphony concert. Oh well.

Theology of the Body 2012/11/04

"In Genesis we see the body as a gift, revealed in all its radiant purity — its 'nakedness.' In the state of original innocence, nakedness wasn't shameful. Nakedness becomes shameful when the woman is an object for the man, or the man an object for the woman.[*] Interior innocence kept Adam and Eve from reducing each other to the level of a mere object. They were united by their shared awareness of the body as a gift.

"When does the body cease to be a gift? When we turn it into an object, using it for self-gratification. This denial of the gift marks the end of innocence and the beginning of shame.

"In their nakedness, Adam and Eve gave of themselves and accepted each other. This exchange of the gift involved the whole of their being — their humanity, their masculinity and femininity, their bodies and souls.

"At this level, the giving and the receiving are so intertwined that there is almost no distinguishing between them. The two become one — it is difficult to know where giving stops and receiving begins.

"In the mystery of creation, the woman is brought to man as a gift. Thanks to original innocence, she is accepted by him as a person good in and of herself, not as an object. …Eve discovers herself and the meaning of her femininity …. because she's been accepted [by Adam] in the way the Creator meant her to be accepted.

"From the beginning, the woman was a gift for the man. She was entrusted to his eyes, his sensitivity, his heart. To complete the exchange of the gift, he must give himself to her in return.

"This mutual self-giving creates the communion of persons, enriching both the man and the woman. Love begets love."


[*] I'd add that it also becomes shameful when people regard others of the same sex as objects.

TTYL — But First a Nice Visit

In six hours the van picks me up to take me to the airport for my trip to Halifax. I should be home four days from now, and probably back on line over the weekend. As usual, I'll be away from the internet while I'm away from home.

I had a very pleasant visit from Zack, my friend who visited last April. He arrived Sunday evening, and left this afternoon. In between, we made some spaghetti sauce (vegetarian) for dinner, returned a printer/copier/fax machine/scanner to the store, and just sorta hung out, enjoying being together and talking about mutual interests. (This time we kept our clothes on, but another time we could be naked again. Either way, we're comfortable with each other.) It was a fairly long trip for him, and I'm really impressed that he was willing to make it just to visit me. I hope I'm worthy of such friendship.

Baseball Player

In Lynn, Massachusetts, there is a baseball field which from time to time has been the home field of various minor league and other teams. For a while the Lynn Sailors, an affiliate of the Seattle Mariners were there. But recently, none has lasted very long, in part due to the nearness to Boston and to Red Sox minor league affiliates in Portland, ME, and Lowell, MA.

I used to enjoy Sailors' games, and this year I decided to attend games of a fairly new team, the North Shore Navigators, who are part of the College Futures Baseball League. As the name implies, the players are college students. League rules require the majority of each team's players to come from the area of the team's home. But then others can come from anywhere. I noticed early in the season that one player was from Benedictine University in Lisle, Illinois. Since I was once an applicant at a Benedictine monastery, once that caught my eye, I was interested. The guy had just finished his freshman year, with a fairly good season on the baseball team. I decided, since he wouldn't have any friends or family in the area, that I would cheer for him. It turned out he was one of the better players on the team, both batting and fielding.

Finally, on August 14, I brought along my camera and got these pictures at the last home game of the season.

Team during the National Anthem

My guy, Tim Hendricks, on deck

Tim at bat

Returning to the dugout

Manager, Richie Hebner (Massachusetts native, former major leaguer)

Tim in the dugout (standing)

Tim returning to the dugout

Tim on deck

Richie Hebner, third from right

Tim, behind Elwood, getting congrats (I don't remember if he just scored or drove in a run)

Tim in the dugout

Richie Hebner

Tim and most of the team on the top step of the dugout in the bottom of the 9th inning, hoping for a run to tie the game ("we" lost)

After some earlier games, I had seen where the players went after the game was over, and I  positioned myself at the top of the walkway they used, and when Tim came along I called to him, explained my reason for being interested in Benedictine U., expressed the hope that he had enjoyed his time on New England and his season with the team — which he said he had — and got him to autograph my program. I also got Richie Hebner's autograph.

A month later, this article about him appeared in what looks like a college sports site. It's really kinda fun to have gotten interested in a guy merely because of the university he's attending and to have him have such a successful season. I'm hoping he'll be back next summer, but he may be able to get into something at a higher level, like the Cape Cod League, which has produced a lot of big leaguers.