What a Wonderful World

A WORLD WHERE ALL'S ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

"I hear babies crying, I watch them grow
They'll learn much more than I'll never know
And I think to myself what a wonderful world"

Sung so beautifully by
Louis Armstrong ~ Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwo'ole

******************

The world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't mind happiness
not always being
so very much fun
if you don't mind a touch of hell
now and then
just when everything is fine
because even in heaven
they don't sing
all the time

The world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't mind some people dying
all the time
or maybe only starving
some of the time
which isn't half bad
if it isn't you

Oh the world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't much mind
a few dead minds
in the higher places
or a bomb or two
now and then
in your upturned faces
or such other improprieties
as our Name Brand society
is prey to
with its men of distinction
and its men of extinction
and its priests
and other patrolmen

and its various segregations
and congressional investigations
and other constipations
that our fool flesh
is heir to

Yes the world is the best place of all
for a lot of such things as
making the fun scene
and making the love scene
and making the sad scene
and singing low songs and having inspirations
and walking around
looking at everything
and smelling flowers
and goosing statues
and even thinking
and kissing people and
making babies and wearing pants
and waving hats and
dancing
and going swimming in rivers
on picnics
in the middle of the summer
and just generally
'living it up'
Yes
but then right in the middle of it
comes the smiling

mortician

Lawrence Ferlinghetti

See also Lucinda Williams: "This Sweet Old World"
and Virginia Woolf: "Oh . . . in the middle of my party, here's death."

******************
Earlier in the year, my esteemed eldest brother Dave suggested the following roundtable discussion for facebook friends and family:

I would like to present you all with a thought game and ask that you consider playing along. Here we go!

Dave: Today, when most people watch cartoons and comedies from the 30's - 50's, they find all manner of things offensive, i.e. portrayal of black people, smoking, how women are viewed and treated and so on. What many forget is that when these films were made, they were the societal norm. No one was particularly horrified or disgusted by the issues I presented.

We of course know when the changes took place, and we really old codgers can even identify specific events or trends that heralded them.

Now, you are surrounded by films, cartoons, comedies, etc. that are entirely normal and acceptable to modern society. That is and always has been the norm.

Last step! Imagine you are now living in your eighth decade and have seen huge changes over your past fifty years. What things will your children, grand and great grand children find repulsive, or disgusting when viewed through the lens of their young perspective. In other words, what are we doing as a society today that will be a thing of shame in the distant future; a shame that you will have to personally "own" by virtue of having lived it?

I wonder if this is a corner of our being that we care to examine?

My cousin Nick got us started:

Nick: I think by then the pendulum will have swung the other way and my great grandchildren and grandchildren will look at the early 21st century with disbelief and humor that we were so overboard with political correctness and kowtowing to the very smallest minority at the expense of the overwhelming majority. I can't imagine what's left for anyone to be offended about.

Maybe some breakthrough in transportation or power will come and that generation will look in horror and disbelief at our use of fossil fuels (which I believe do pollute).

Maybe by then the gay marriage movement will break way to polygamy, and they'll be amazed that (on paper) most people were monogamous.

Hopefully war will be looked on as the absolute final, disgusting choice to solve problems

Definitely I think they'll be disgusted at the amount of our waste, both organic (uneaten food), and inorganic (packaging particularly).

I also think they will be disgusted / amazed at our preoccupation with sex and sexuality; both individual and others, as a person's sexuality becomes as relevant as eye color. By then, not only will people be more accepting of others' sexuality, but minority sexualities, if you will, won't be flaunted and shoved in others' faces.

Bear in mind I live in Thailand and this is how we live here already so I know it's not only possible but also beneficial to society as a whole.

And then my sister Peg:

Peg: Rap music lyrics and current song lyrics in general; hopefully: our reluctance to go back to an active space program; our need for chasing the almighty dollar over spending time with family; our rising health issues with a failure to address the money spent on developing medications which are only band-aids on the problem and not solutions.

And niece - in - law Chantel:

Chantel: I think that we will have rationed food and water and such in the future. I think that the wastefulness of this era will be found obscene in the future.

Next to take the ball and run with it was my
inspiring millennial son Ben McCartney,
featured here in 1991, shortly before his first birthday,
trying to figure out how to make the world a better place!

Ben: This is a fun thought experiment. Thanks for posing it!

I'm going to lump my ideas in to one of two categories. The first are those issues which I think are going to continue to be issues for a long, long time, but will probably look and feel slightly different in 60 years. The second group is things which are going to, I’d guess, have some really stark turning point that makes them looks incredibly different.

Long time issues: gun control, race relations, privacy, and religion.

Gun control. The current policy is obviously broken. The murder rate in the US is just so much higher than literally everywhere else moderately developed that something has to give. But, as much as I’d like it, there’s not going to be a dramatic, overnight change in gun regulations in the US. I can see laws being stricter 80 years from now, maybe gun licenses will be harder to get, maybe people with convictions of violent crime won’t legally be able to buy guns. I can also imagine personal defense technology developing enough over the next century that guns in their current forms will pose less of a threat. Hopefully the 2nd amendment goes the way of legalized slavery and has its federal approval tag removed. But I’m not counting on the founders' f--k-up getting fixed any time soon.

Race relations. Clearly the biggest issue in the United States. Has been since its inception and will be for at least a while longer. The problems run so deep that I’m not even sure what change would look like. Hopefully it’s better in the future than it is now, and I imagine it will be. But change will be slow. Will people 80 years from now look back on 2016 America as a place where the problems between blacks and whites were amazingly bad? Yes, I’m sure they will, as we do now. But I’ve no idea how to go about fixing them in an overnight sort of way.

Privacy. The second biggest issue in the United States. What is the government allowed to know about us? What are they not? When can they search us? When can’t they? Can they see our internet search histories? What about our location at a given time? There will be a tug of war between personal liberty and security. No idea who’s going to have pulled farther over the next 80 years.

Religion. I’m surprised this is still a thing. I don’t really get it. But I’ve decided I’m just missing something. Too many people for too long have been so inspired by their religions that there must be something to it. I guess it’ll still be around in 80 years. But when it finally goes away, whenever that is, people are going to look back and roll their eyes.

Radically change: football, abortion, and driving.

NFL. This is going the way of gladiatorial fights. And it will happen quickly. Not exactly sure when, but the game in its current manifestation is short for this earth. “Wait, people wore what and hit each other how often and how hard? And half of them had dramatic brain injuries? And the majority rich, privileged owners traded and drafted these predominately desperately poor players to compete against each other?”

Abortion. Obviously a hugely divisive issue right now. But I think it will become a non-issue soon. Not because of any change in how readily or effectively people prescribe their moralities, but because of technology. Birth control is going to become so cheap, and so easy, that unintended pregnancy will go away. It really ought to be this way now; but, predominately conservative, obstructionism has kept birth control expensive. Technology will change, though, and birth control become less of a game-time decision (when people are notoriously poor decision makers) and less expensive.

Driving. “Wait, what? People drove these things themselves? But so many people have such bad coordination! How were they allowed to do this? 30,000 people died EVERY YEAR? What happened if people got drunk? What if people fell asleep? Wait, people agreed that they were so bad at this they all pooled money together to give to people who crashed into other things and other people and they DID IT ANYWAY?” Driverless cars are coming. And I can’t wait.

Vaccinations. The measles, mumps, rubella, chicken pox, and polio. These diseases are devastating. But there’s tons of promising research into these things called vaccinations that make people who get them completely immune. We’re not quite there yet, but I think medical progress will be sufficient to completely eradicate these things and save more than a million lives per year soon.

And I brought up the rear:

Sorry to chime in late; I held back since I didn't think my answers would be a big hit. But everyone else's responses are so inspiring, so I'm going to at least try:

1. Gender Inequity -- is it ever going away? I've been waiting 40 years, and women older than I have been waiting even longer. As radical feminist writer Andrea Dworkin said when asked how she would like to be remembered: "In a museum, when male supremacy is dead. I'd like my work to be an anthropological artifact from an extinct, primitive society." How long is this going to take?

2. War -- is it ever going away? Again, please allow me to quote an expert; this time Ulysses S. Grant, who has been waiting well over a hundred years -- let alone 40 -- for his hoped for result: "Though I have been trained as a soldier, and participated in many battles, there never was a time when, in my opinion, some way could not be found to prevent the drawing of the sword. I look forward to an epoch when a court, recognized by all nations, will settle international differences." How long is this going to take?

3. Smoking -- is it ever going away? As Dave points out, it is no longer portrayed in children's cartoons; and it was legally eliminated from television advertising in 1971 -- 45 years ago -- and gradually disappeared from most television programming soon after -- but certainly not from movies, where it still retains its falsely glamorized status, and certainly not from real life, despite very well known and highly visible health hazards. 40 years ago, I incorrectly assumed, that anyone older than I who was still smoking would surely quit immediately, and that anyone younger than I would never start. But time has proven me wrong. How long is this going to take?

I'll be in my 8th decade in a mere 12 years and curious to see if much changes between now and then. Maybe it will take another 40 years beyond that, or another 80. Well, there's my three cents worth.

In closing (well, until next time) many thanks --

1. to Nick, who wrote a lengthy response to all of my concerns. I've been meaning to respond properly for months now and promise that I will do so very soon . . . like in time for my next blog post!

and

2. to Dave, who kindly relinquished all copyrights: "Anything I write on Facebook is in the public domain. So, no, I don't mind what you do with them. Question. comment, add content? By all means go ahead." [I hope that includes writing a Blog Post!]

I trust that everyone else quoted above concurs! Thanks for sharing your thoughts and hopes for the future of our wonderful world!

This Cracker / Carriker Barrel Discussion to be continued . . .

IN TWO WEEKS ON MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Friday October 14th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogspot.com

Paris: Ferlinghetti, Fenton & Forche

A HOUSE WHERE ALL'S ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

Shakespeare and Company Bookstore, Paris
On the right is my friend Victoria Amador, who has been around the world!

Recipe for Happiness
Khabarovsk or Anyplace

One grand boulevard with trees
with one grand cafe in sun
with strong black coffee in very small cups

One not necessarily very beautiful
man or woman who loves you

One fine day

Lawrence Ferlinghetti
American, b. 1919
Paris Street ~ Rainy Day
Gustave Caillebotte ~ French, 1848 - 94

I guess Ferlinghetti feels that to say "Paris" -- rather than "Khabarovsk or Anyplace" -- would be simply too obvious; whereas, in the next poem, "Paris" becomes the substitute code word for something even more obvious and too often cliched:

In Paris With You

Don’t talk to me of love. I’ve had an earful
And I get tearful when I’ve drowned a drink or two.
I’m one of your talking wounded
I’m a hostage. I’m marooned.
But I’m in Paris with you.

Yes I’m angry at the way I’ve been bamboozled
And resentful at the mess that I’ve been through
I admit I’m on the rebound
And I don’t care where are we bound.
I’m in Paris with you.

Do you mind if we do not go to the Louvre,
If we say sod off to sodding Notre Dame,
If we skip the Champs Elysees
And remain here in this sleazy
Old hotel room
Doing this and that
To what and whom
Learning who you are,
Learning what I am.

Don’t talk to me of love. Let’s talk of Paris,
The little bit of Paris in our view.
There’s that crack across the ceiling

And the hotel walls are peeling
And I’m in Paris with you.

Don’t talk to me of love. Let’s talk of Paris.
I’m in Paris with the slightest thing you do.
I’m in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,
I’m in Paris with . . . all points south.
Am I embarrassing you?
I’m in Paris with you.

James Fenton
British, b. 1949

La Tour Eiffel
Photographed by my niece, Sara Carriker, 2013

And one more poem about Paris in which the last line says it all:
"I've been to Paris . . . "

As Children Together

Under the sloped snow
pinned all winter with Christmas
lights, we waited for your father
to whittle his soap cakes
away, finish the whisky,
your mother to carry her coffee
from room to room closing lights
cubed in the snow at our feet.
Holding each other's
coat sleeves we slid down
the roads in our tight
black dresses, past
crystal swamps and the death
face of each dark house,
over the golden ice
of tobacco spit, the blue
quiet of ponds, with town
glowing behind the blind
white hills and a scant
snow ticking in the stars.
You hummed "blanche comme
la neige" and spoke of Montreal
where a québecoise could sing,
take any man's face
to her unfastened blouse
and wake to wine
on the bedside table.
I always believed this,
Victoria, that there might
be a way to get out.

You were ashamed of that house,
its round tins of surplus flour,
chipped beef and white beans,
relief checks and winter trips
that always ended in deer
tied stiff to the car rack,
the accordion breath of your uncles
down from the north, and what
you called the stupidity
of the Michigan French.

Your mirror grew ringed
with photos of servicemen
who had taken your breasts
in their hands, the buttons
of your blouses in their teeth,
who had given you the silk
tassles of their graduation,
jackets embroidered with dragons
from the Far East. You kept
the corks that had fired
from bottles over their beds,
their letters with each city
blackened, envelopes of hair
from their shaved heads.

I am going to have it, you said.
Flowers wrapped in paper from carts
in Montreal, a plane lifting out
of Detroit, a satin bed, a table
cluttered with bottles of scent.

So standing in a Platter of ice
outside a Catholic dance hall
you took their collars
in your fine chilled hands
and lied your age to adulthood.

I did not then have breasts of my own,
nor any letters from bootcamp
and when one of the men who had
gathered around you took my mouth
to his own there was nothing
other than the dance hall music
rising to the arms of iced trees.

I don't know where you are now, Victoria.
They say you have children, a trailer
in the snow near our town,
and the husband you found as a girl
returned from the Far East broken
cursing holy blood at the table
where nightly a pile of white shavings
is paid from the edge of his knife.

If you read this poem, write to me.
I have been to Paris since we parted.

Carolyn Forché
American, b. 1950

Girls Together in Paris ~ Sara & her friend Angela

SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Friday, June 14th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogspot.com

Ode to Josef: Nine-Lived and Contradictory

A HOUSE WHERE ALL'S ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

Look at Josef! Such a little genius!
One snowy afternoon in December 2000, Ben, Sam,
and their friends Sarah and Ethan,
decorated this box for him and stuck him inside
(just above his head, you can see that it says "Josef's House").
How did he know precisely where to step?
Right in the paw prints that they had drawn for him!

*********************

Taken during the same snowfall, December 2000
Josef appears to be about half the size of Sam at the time!
A year later, as part of a classroom assignment, Ben decided to write a poem about our dear old long - lived (1988 - 2007) Josef:

THE CAT
This cat lies down, not moving.
Contemplating. Why? What? When?
Will the world end today?
Tomorrow, now, then?

The Universe is great.
The cat knows its ways,
lying down, on my bed.
The sun flashes its rays.

Where did they come from?
Humans, I think they are called.
Interesting what they have done
with this planet, what they’ve hauled.

Well, they feed me, not what I want,
but they give me enough.
Sometimes it’s fun and entertaining.
Sometimes it’s boring and tough.

They give me a box of cardboard.
They give me a queen-sized bed.
They give me my own curtain.
They put me at their head.

But still I contemplate
The Universe. I know
they want to: tough!
They give me food and go.

by Ben McCartney, age 11
29 January 2002, 6th grade

And a few months later, Sam followed suit:

MY CAT
My cat is lazy and loving.

That is my cat, loves meat,

so sleepy but adventurous.

But no matter what,

my cat I love.

No not a thing --

he can scratch,

he can bite,

he can reject his meat.

I love him!

by Sam McCartney
August 2002, 4th grade


As I have a mentioned before (No One With A Nose / Wise Fool), when Ben and Sam attended St. Peter's School in Philadelphia, they were required to memorize and recite a poem every month. They became quite adept at managing increasingly long works, and I often urged them to choose from among my old favorites, such as these two, which I used to enjoy teaching as a Freshman English exercise in comparison and contrast:

CURIOSITY
may have killed the cat; more likely
the cat was just unlucky, or else curious
to see what death was like, having no cause
to go on licking paws, or fathering
litter on litter of kittens, predictably.

Nevertheless, to be curious
is dangerous enough. To distrust
what is always said, what seems,
to ask odd questions, interfere in dreams,
leave home, smell rats, have hunches,
do not endear cats to those doggy circles
where well-smelt baskets, suitable wives, good lunches
are the order of things, and where prevails
much wagging of incurious heads and tails.

Face it. Curiosity
will not cause us to die--
only lack of it will.
Never to want to see
the other side of the hill
or that improbable country
where living is an idyll
(although a probable hell)
would kill us all.
Only the curious
have, if they live, a tale
worth telling at all.

Dogs say cats love too much, are irresponsible,
are changeable, marry too many wives,
desert their children, chill all dinner tables
with tales of their nine lives.
Well, they are lucky. Let them be
nine-lived and contradictory,
curious enough to change, prepared to pay
the cat price, which is to die
and die again and again,
each time with no less pain.
A cat minority of one
is all that can be counted on
to tell the truth. And what cats have to tell
on each return from hell
is this: that dying is what the living do,
that dying is what the loving do,
and that dead dogs are those who do not know
that dying is what, to live, each has to do.

by Scottish Poet Alastair Reid, b. 1926

more about Alastair Reid
(additional blog post)

Both the dog and the cat are admirable characters, rising above discouragement, discounting the naysayers, embracing their personal and political freedom. They have tales worth telling. The independent cat tells the truth about his nine lives, his near - death experiences, and the cost of curiosity -- the "cat price." The dog trots freely and fearlessly, facing reality: "a real realist / with a real tale to tell / and a real tail to tell it with." What excellent role models they are!

DOG
The dog trots freely in the street
and sees reality
and the things he sees
are bigger than himself
and the things he sees
are his reality
Drunks in doorways
Moons on trees
The dog trots freely thru the street
and the things he sees
are smaller than himself
Fish on newsprint
Ants in holes
Chickens in Chinatown windows
their heads a block away
The dog trots freely in the street
and the things he smells
smell something like himself
The dog trots freely in the street
past puddles and babies
cats and cigars
poolrooms and policemen
He doesn't hate cops
He merely has no use for them
and he goes past them
and past the dead cows hung up whole
in front of the San Francisco Meat Market
He would rather eat a tender cow
than a tough policeman
though either might do
And he goes past the Romeo Ravioli Factory
and past Coit's Tower
and past Congressman Doyle of the Unamerican Committee
He's afraid of Coit's Tower
but he's not afraid of Congressman Doyle
although what he hears is very discouraging
very depressing
very absurd
to a sad young dog like himself
to a serious dog like himself
But he has his own free world to live in
His own fleas to eat
He will not be muzzled
Congressman Doyle is just another
fire hydrant
to him
The dog trots freely in the street
and has his own dog's life to live
and to think about
and to reflect upon
touching and tasting and testing everything
investigating everything
without benefit of perjury
a real realist
with a real tale to tell
and a real tail to tell it with
a real live
barking
democratic dog
engaged in real
free enterprise
with something to say
about ontology
something to say
about reality
and how to see it
and how to hear it
with his head cocked sideways
at streetcorners
as if he is just about to have
his picture taken
for Victor Records
listening for
His Master's Voice
and looking
like a living questionmark
into the
great gramophone
of puzzling existence
with its wondrous hollow horn
which always seems
just about to spout forth
some Victorious answer
to everything

by American Poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti, b. 1919

more about Ferlinghetti
(additional blog post)

Little Nipper, the RCA Victor Dog
SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Sunday, August 28, 2011

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogspot.com