I’m spiraling into a wimp. I turned on
the heat in the house yesterday. I’d like to kid myself into saying it was in
preparation for the Wingman’s arrival today with his Californicated aversion to
the cold but it was all me. The temperatures fell into the high teens over Sunday
night and I was a hurting cowboy stepping out of the shower yesterday morning
onto the cold tile floor. I think my mother is turning over in her grave
because, according to her, it was not appropriate to heat the house until you
could clearly see your breath for three days running.
As stated above, the Wingman and his
band are blowing into town today for a show in downtown Worcester. While they travel
in a very nicely equipped bus, complete with sleeping berths – it’s still a bus.
I’m going to kidnap him around rehearsal times and offer a shower, clothes
washing, a home cooked meal, etc., etc. The jury is still out whether I’ll go
to the show tonight since my hearing may not be up to that kind of assault. It
will be good to see him and we can commiserate about our long distant wives
together.
Since tonight may be busy I went to
the movies last night and saw a really, really good film. Tom Hanks and Steven
Spielberg collaborate again in Bridge of Spies. It was a stark and very realistic
look at the height of the Cold War that current generations have no concept of.
I grew up when this historic episode, the Francis Gary Powers incident, unfolded
and the Berlin Wall was going up. Spielberg tells the story of the lawyer,
played with his signature bone deep decency by Hanks, who’s dragooned into
defending a Soviet spy and then journeys to Berlin to exchange him for U2 pilot
Powers.
There’s not a lot of bells and
whistles hung on the story but they’re not needed. The scenes between Hanks and
Mark Rylance, as the Soviet spy, are worth of the price of admission alone.
Spielberg is also offering a history lesson to the modern world what life was
like back in the late 1950’s and early 1960s. The confrontation with the Soviet
Union complete with burgeoning nuclear arsenals consumed the Western World as
few things ever. He doesn’t beat the viewer over the head with it but compares
two subway rides Hanks takes. One is in Berlin as he witnesses an unsuccessful
attempt to scale the wall and then his daily commute into NYC; an eloquent, understated
comment on the two competing visions for the world. Go see this movie.
I also polished off my latest Matthew
Scudder novel by Lawrence Block in The Devil Knows You’re Dead. This was
a real transitional story for the intrepid but morose Scudder as he finally
lets a little light shine into his life. He’s certainly earned it. When a
neighbor he’s mildly acquainted with is gunned down he’s called upon by the brother
of the accused street person killer to investigate.
His investigation leads him into a lot
more introspection as he uncovers the victim’s hidden life and not so grieving
widow. Block grazes through some characters from earlier Scudder novels and it’s
like meeting old friends for the reader. A really enjoyable read, especially since
part of it was done in NYC across the street from a church where Scudder occasionally
attends AA meetings. One of those friends is dying of cancer and has a talk
with Scudder about his personal life. Some of Block’s incomparable words from The
Devil Knows You’re Dead:
You
know, I think you may have picked just the right person to talk to. Dying turns
out to be a very instructive process. You learn a lot this way. The only
problem is you don’t have any time to act on your newfound knowledge. But isn’t
that always the way? When I was fifteen years old I said to myself, ‘oh to be
twelve again, knowing what I know now’ What the hell did I know when I was
fifteen?’ What do you know now?” “I know that time’s much too scarce to waste.
I know that only important things are important. I know not to sweat the small
stuff.” She made a face. “All these brilliant insights and they come out
sounding like bumper stickers. The worst part is it seems to me that I knew
these things at fifteen. Maybe I knew them when I was twelve. But I know them
differently now.”
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