Courtesies Simply

Yesterday was definitely a recovery day, necessitated by the overly successful pub crawl of Saturday fame. The day did have to bow some of the usual Sunday exigencies like grocery shopping and laundry but there was also some serial inspection of the underside of eye lids in Couch Potato Position #1. I had breakfast with my fellow Saturday survivor, the favorite cousin, before he winged off to his better half. The day was elevated by several FaceTime calls with my Favorite Panamanian and one with this vision of beauty from California. She was in high voice when we talking which was decidedly entertaining. We’re all gearing up for the family reunion in Panama later this week.

The Californian Vision

I can’t believe its February already; especially when I look outside and see all the grass. Last year by this time we were under nearly 60 inches of snow with another 60 inbound over the next few weeks. In danger of having to relinquish my native New Englander credentials – I kind of like the lack of snow. Thank you El Nino. At least my flight plans look intact without having to dodge the storms a la the past year.

I sent myself an email in the midst of the pub crawl with only two words written – “simple courtesies”. I vaguely remember doing it but as the resultant fog begins to clear I know it was associated with a long held belief that the true measure of a person is whether he/she is capable of the simple courtesies that makes life more bearable as we all run around living. We experience them hundreds of times each day but they are background clutter because the rude usually call attention to themselves with their lack of same. People who are comfortable enough in their own skin to acknowledge the worth of other people through simple, often unspoken acts are what I’m talking about. It could be something as simple as holding a door for someone or a quick nod to thank someone for a small kindness. It’s the kind of people I like to hang out with.

Wife Rocking Some Plaid Pants

I received the accompanying picture from my wife yesterday that she discovered at her parents’ home. I don’t have many pictures of her from her teenaged years which is when this was taken, I’m guessing. She’s on the far left in some truly entertaining pants.

Part of my couch potato time was spent watching the movie Bone Tomahawk which was recommended by my daughter, of all people. It’s an independent western that tries to combine the Western with the Slasher genre. While it is a small movie in scope it boasts a truly amazing cast, including Kurt Russell who apparently got two films under his belt last year with his signature beard from The Hateful Eight. He plays a town sheriff in pursuit of a tribe of cannibalistic troglodytes (not your typical Wester yarn) who kidnapped Patrick Wilson’s wife. He leads a posse that includes Jack from Lost, Wilson with a recently/painfully broken leg, and Richard Jenkins in high disguise (didn’t recognize him for almost the entire movie). Jenkins is incredibly funny as the old, back-up, deputy sheriff who maintains an almost constant nonsensical riff during the chase. The ending confrontation is almost too brutal – I’ll confess to some averted eyes but this was highly entertaining.

I forced myself to finish reading the next in the series of Lars Emmerich’s books I recently bought, Balls Deep. This was not a very good read because there was no Samantha Jameson involved which was the only thing that made Peter Kittredge bearable in The Incident. This latest book is a thriller set in Germany involving a drug company’s manufactured health crisis to sell their latest wonder drug. There was literally no one to root for in the entire cast of characters. Certainly not Kittredge who raises his contemptibility to even higher levels and who’s only demonstrated ability is victimhood. Thankfully Sam returns in the next book which should help remove the Kittredge stain.