Strength and Resolution

 

 

May all of my relatives, friends, and other readers have a very happy, healthy, exciting, and prosperous Year of the Dragon.

 Although I’m not a believer in astrology, Oriental, Occidental, or otherwise, I do find the lore amusing and intriguing, and consider it perhaps worthwhile to consider the legendary characteristics of the year's representative animal, with a view toward emulating the strengths and avoiding the weaknesses with which it’s associated. 

The Chinese zodiac animals are associated in different years with different elements, and this time around the dragon is the “wood dragon”.

 The dragon is a very auspicious creature in Chinese mythology  and astrology, and is said to bestow on those born in its year confidence, resolution, strength, and pride. They are supposed to be endowed with vitality and a sense of adventure, to be goal-oriented but idealistic and romantic, and to make visionary leaders.

On the other hand, they may also have the less desirable  tendencies of being somewhat arrogant or domineering, temperamental, somewhat egotistical, and gullible…the last due largely to over-confidence.

In the coming year, let’s approach life with pride and confidence, and be strong and resolute while avoiding arrogance and hubris.

 I fervently hope that the coming year brings peace where there has been strife, understanding where there has been ignorance, and justice where there has been iniquity.

 May the coming year be better by far than any that have preceded it, for each of you and for those you hold dear, and indeed for all of us.

Happy New Year and joyous holidays!

 (Image by mirrima on Freepik.com)

Yuletide Greetings

 

Here’s hoping that all of you, friends, relatives, and other readers of the blog have a really Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Yule, Splendid Saturnalia, or whatever other very enjoyable holidays that you may be celebrating in this season.

I got presents early this year, including the opportunity to meet two very old and close friends in person, after several years of pandemic-related restrictions and mobility issues had prevented it. Another old friend very graciously agreed to make the trek up to the Saitama/Gunma border country and perform some excellent guitar numbers as part of an anniversary celebration for the hospital where I do rehab. Another present was an invitation to a company get-together at an izakaya near the office, fun to see colleagues and friends in person and hoist a few tankards after about four years of only digital contact; it was almost like old times,  and well worth it despite a certain amount of fatigue and logistics hassles.

When the year winds down it’s time to arrange for the annual production of nengjo New Year greeting cards.  Updating the data base has sometimes been a little sad in recent years, as notices of old colleagues and other acquaintances having passed away have become more frequent. Each year there are a few less cards to send, but I’m still encouraged by the number of friends who—like me—have so far beat the odds and keep on keeping on.

May all of you be happy and healthy, and hale and hearty, throughout the holiday season and the year to come. As I said at this time last year, may peace and good will prevail for everyone, everywhere, may generosity and kindness carry the day, and may the greedy and selfish be confounded. 

Truth and justice will win out in the end, and all the sooner if we help them along. 

Still I'm Sad

One of the very first records I ever bought, back when I was 16 or just about to be, was The Shapes of Things, by the Yardbirds.  It featured, prominently, their then-recent replacement for Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, whom they'd taken on board at the recommendation of Jimmy Page. 

Yes, that is a lot of  legendary guitarists for a singe sentence.

I've just learned that Jeff Beck has passed away, following several other iconic musicians who--to me, anyway--contributed significantly to the soundtrack of my life. Jeff Beck was an astoundingly good guitarist. Inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame twice (as one of the Yardbirds and as a solo act), he's been cited as one of the very first of the psychedelic rock musicians, but was undeniably skilled at blues, too, and has influenced countless other guitarists.

Although I might not have thought so when I was 16, now that I'm somewhat older I think that at 78 he was too young to go. I'm sorry that he's gone, as I'm sure many of my musician friends and other music lovers are, too. Jeff Beck had a remarkable life to go along with his remarkable talent, but Still I'm Sad to hear that he's gone. 

Peace and Wisdom

 

I wish all of my relatives, friends, and other readers a very happy, healthy, exciting, and prosperous Year of the Rabbit.

 With my usual disclaimer that I’m not a believer in astrology, Oriental, Occidental, or otherwise, nevertheless I do find the lore amusing and intriguing, and consider it perhaps worthwhile to consider the legendary characteristics of the year's representative animal, with a view toward emulating the strengths and avoiding the weaknesses with which it’s associated. 

 The rabbit is said to endow people born in its year with the traits of wisdom and caution, which might be mistaken for timidity but actually reflect careful consideration of options before jumping into a new situation. Rabbit people are also said to be good listeners and kind and sweet by nature, with appreciation for art and beauty.

 Appropriately for the current world situation, the rabbit is also said to impart calm and tact, being cool headed and slow to anger. People born in the Year of the Rabbit are likely, it is said, to be peacemakers.

 I fervently hope that the coming year brings peace where there has been strife, and justice where there has been iniquity.

 May the coming year be better by far than any that have preceded it, for each of you and for those you hold dear, and indeed for all of us. Happy New Year and joyous holidays!

(Image by rawpixel.com on Freepik)

Merry Christmas et alia

 May all of my relatives, friends, and other readers of the blog have a very Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, or very enjoyable other holidays they might celebrate in this season, or just a very good time overall as the year winds down.

As I write this, my sister-in-law is struggling with cancer and one of my oldest friends is hospitalized with COVID-19. For both of them to recover swiftly and completely would be the very best Christmas present ever. 

In this season, and indeed in all seasons and all locales, may peace and good will prevail, may generosity and kindness carry the day, and may the greedy and selfish be confounded. Even a single candle serves to diminish the darkness, but the more light and warmth, the better.

May all of you receive your heart's desire, achieve your goals, and grasp every possible opportunity for happiness in the holiday season, as well as in the year to come. 

Where the Time Goes

 At the beginning of October, I went around to several of the people—therapists and other care givers—at the care center (called by the affectionate nickname of “Kumakoko”) where I have been a regular user since shortly after release from my long hospital stay. I thanked each for their support over the three years that I’ve been a patron, first in day care and now in half-day rehabilitation, and asked for their further cooperation in the coming year. Three years and starting on a fourth is a long time, but the medical and therapeutical consensus is evidently that my progress has been rather quick, not to mention more successful than originally expected. I certainly can’t dispute that I’m far from the permanently bed-ridden or wheelchair-restricted original prognosis.

 It has been longer than I’d prefer, but I can’t deny that I’ve come quite a long way, thanks to a lot of support and effort from those around me, pros, family, and friends, and, I suppose, to my obstinacy.

 I have of late settled into a routine of sorts, with each week differing only slightly from the one before or after. The focus is firmly on rehabilitation, aiming at an ideal of return to full mobility, and that requires an investment of will, of concentration, of energy, and of time.

 Most Monday mornings begin with a visit from physical therapist Takaoka-san. He makes suggestions, explains tactics, monitors progress, and guards against accidental injury in real-world activities such as using escalators, walking on uneven surfaces, climbing steps and slopes, and surprisingly tricky household tasks such as hanging out laundry or taking out the trash.

 Tuesday through Friday mornings I get up early, drive over to Kumakoko, and engage in activities involving a treadmill, stair climbing, several machines for leg and torso exercises, diverse walking techniques, various dumbbell exercises, and monitoring/planning discussions with the therapists and Aoki-san, my care manager. After two or two-and-a-half hours of that, I head for home, sometimes with a stop at the local bakery or the gas station.

 Weekday and some weekend afternoons are devoted to whatever work I might have, whether from my contract employer or from my various freelance clients. The computers and the smartphone get a lot of use, as do my webcam and recording software applications.

 If the weather permits it, very early Saturday mornings I drive over to the nearby Kumagaya Sports and Culture Park, and do a couple of round trips walking up and down the slopes of a bridge on the grounds near the rugby field, one of the relatively few slopes in this mostly flat alluvial plain town.

 Sundays I generally take it easy, try with very limited success to catch up on my email and other computer stuff, and so on.

 During the month there are a few other activities more or less beyond the routine. I do a lot of cooking, go out shopping, do a monthly doctor and pharmacy trip, and occasionally visit local restaurants or pubs.

 As usual toward the end of the year, I reflect on the passing of time, review a lot of memories, and make tentative plans for the future. “Who knows where the time goes?”, and variations on that theme, have been said by those around me, and by me as well, many times over the years. Right now I’ve got a fairly firm grip on that, because it’s easier when you have a mostly routine existence, but we’ll have to see what the future brings.

Can you make it all a little less old?

 Another rock legend has left the stage. I just learned that Meat Loaf passed away, probably from COVID-19 in combination with his already poor health, on January 20th. 

By coincidence and because of the time difference, that day marked three years since I broke my leg and was set onto a path of hospitalization, surgery, rehabilitation, and--in a head start on my colleagues just prior to the pandemic's effects--exclusively remote work. I had forgotten the anniversary, actually, until the sad news about Meat Loaf, and the mention that he was 74, brought the date, and the time, and the years, into sharper focus. I'll be 72 in a couple of months, and it hasn't been that long since my physique rather resembled Meat Loaf's in his--for want of a better term--prime. 

When closing time came for Leonard Cohen, he was 82...but I was only 66. When Charlie Watts  put his sticks down for the last time this past summer he was 80...but I was already 71. Meat Loaf was only a couple of years older than I am, and his passing was a stronger memento mori for me than I expected. Or needed, really.

Due to some lifestyle changes beginning in the late '70s, most of my initial exposures to new songs around then came by way of my car radio. I don't recall anymore exactly when it was, but when I heard "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" for the first time, I had to pull the car over to the side of the street and listen, rapt and amazed and amused. No song before or since has elicited that response from me. "Let me sleep on it", indeed. I've since had to struggle several times to explain that phrase to Japanese friends, but it was always worth it when realization dawned.

Seeing it performed on TV video clips and more recently on the internet of course added a lot to the experience: Meat Loaf was a hell of an actor as well as  a powerful singer. He was certainly worth watching, whether he was playing a (long ago) "barely 17, and barely dressed" youth, or Eddie in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, or the enigmatic Beast-like character from the music video for "I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)". 

That last song contains the rather grim line "It'll all turn to dust and we'll all fall down". That does seem to be pretty much inescapable, but before that happens I'd like to live with the passion and energy that Meat Loaf put into his performances. The lyrics also include the "Can you make it all a little less old?" line, and I believe that he's done that, and it's worth emulating. He may seem to be an unusual role model, but  he's a worthy one in many ways. We're diminished by his loss, but enriched by his memory.