24.May
From: intoxicated by my illness by Antoine Broyard
Thursday, 21, May, 2026. William Kittredge
Tania (at the end of her amazon review of Becker's The Denial of Death)
the burden of fabricating one's own religion, as argued by Becker, leads to a hypervigilant state, facing the fear that no beyond can prevent creatives from exhausting every bit of themselves in the artistic process.
Carl Jung is credited with coining the term "serendipity." The scientists and card-counters'll tell you about odds, but I’ve seen too many “coincidences” to believe in happenstance. |
Back in 2020 when hoarding toilet paper was de rigueur, I bought a bidet. It didn’t come with a dryer so I had to get used to a slight dampness “back there.” But it was no biggee.
Now, after these five-plus years and having gained even more weight (actually, my arms shrank but that’s not politically correct), it’s gotten hard for me to reach my bum.
Back when I was camping I simply poured water over my backside in the manner of other peoples throughout the world. As it turned out, there was, serendipitously, a second, hand-held shower with a hose.
But the diverter wouldn’t turn. It was then our German-named Native-American housekeeper, Wilhelmina, came to the rescue.
She told how as a young girl the children had teased her about her name until she, crying, asked her mom for a different one. She told how her Grandfather took her aside and told how she was named for his mother’s mother, who was a very special woman. And from that, she knew how much she was appreciated.
Proud of my German heritage, I explained how the W (double-u) is pronounced as a V in German. Thus, we have Volksvagon and Verner Heisenburg and Vilhelmina. And Vilhelmina got Maintenance to come and turn the diverter. She said there were only two other rooms that have hoses: 116 and 121.
It's things like this, things not necessarily life-saving but that make a difference, that incline me to believe in serendipity…and maybe guardian angels.
I, my new wife and daughter, then 4 1/2, arrived from Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio in the summer of '76. Since then i'd driven west and back enough to recognize nearly every view and certainly every campsite of which there are only two or three.
Laguna Pueblo sits perched on a hill overlooking the Rio San Jose - which actually had some water in it. Once an idyllic setting, interstate 40 now lends its presence, a testament to technological superiority.
Nearing Laguna
In the '90s there was a food truck at Laguna that had the best mutton burritos, a delicacy i never chanced upon in either Chicago or San Francisco. Now Laguna touts their burger; it's a White man's food. I've yet to try it.
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We had a number of delays so missed our dinner reservation. Fortunately, I packed some leftover chicken, cheese and lettuce. We didn't starve.
Lower Level Coach
When we got there though, the sidewalk was being redone and was really rough. Fortunately, Ron, standing in the dark ahead of us, had a flashlight and came back to rescue us.
