Thanksgiving

The calendar has completed its inevitable circle again. It's always circling, of course, but on holidays our awareness of circularity is much greater. This year we give thanks for being all together. I just can't find the right words. They all seem inadequate, type, delete... Oh well, as Asun reminds me, obras son amores y no buenas palabras... In any case, the house is warmer, happier, righter, when it's like this. (And to whom, exactly, are we giving thanks? I sure don't know. And I don't trust those whose certainty in this regard is absolute, but that's another matter... So, today I'll direct my thanks to Asun, Alma, Cristina, Daniela, brothers and sisters, in-laws, friends... I love you all.) Last night the house had the splendid warmth of apple pies baking. No turkey in the oven this morning, that will be handled by friends this year. And that is just fine. In a few minutes I'll start making some cole slaw. I think there will be fifteen or sixteen of us this afternoon. We'll give many thanks. This year I also want to give thanks to Charles Darwin, in honor of the 200th anniversary of his birth and 150th anniversary of the publication of On the Origin of Species. Thanks, Chuck, for your insights. And for your bravery. No way I would have gotten on a ship like that. You had a huge impact on the advancement of science and in pushing us a littler further away from superstition.

A Julián Rojas Triptych

Julián Rojas is a photographer for El País, the most influential Spanish language newspaper in the world. Above are three of his recent photos, treating very different, almost antithetical subjects, all of which, nonetheless, share a concern with economics and people in situations of extreme duress. First we see a portrait of two undocumented immigrants (los sin papeles) awaiting deportation in a detention center in Algeciras. These desperate workers have become expendable in the current financial disaster. In the middle photo we see the most famous bullfighter of the day, José Tomás, just escaping a fatal and thoroughly nightmarish goring on Easter Sunday (!) here in Málaga. (Asun was there.) Look closely and note where the bull's right horn is! Yycchs!, that was a close call! Tomas' willingness to take these risks, along with his extraordinary artistry, have brought him tremendous wealth and fame. The last photo shows a line of women crossing from Ceuta, one of Spain's two cities on the coast of Africa across the Strait of Gibraltar, back into Morocco. They go into general merchandise warehouses and load up with a variety of consumer products that they carry into Morocco, thus avoiding heavy customs tariffs for the sellers. They make good money, by Moroccan standards, but it's dangerous work. Apart from the great physical toll (they carry up to sixty pounds), sometimes the border crossing suffers "stampedes", probably provoked, to distract the police so some of them can avoid inspection. Last week two women were killed in a stampede. Julián's photo is rich with irony by virtue of capturing majestically the very straight line the women form. Are they soldiers? Tourists? Obedient like mules? The scene's tragic context offers a minor but poignant glimpse of our globalized world.

     Yes, Julián is a tremendous photographer, but more importantly for me, he's also a good friend, and a more generous soul is hard to imagine. Last night we shared a great dinner over at Murphy's with Asun, Antonio and Maria del Mar. Julián regaled me with two bottles of extraordinary olive oil from his town, Jaén. I just had a little with breakfast. Ohhh!!! Thank you, Julián!

Nochevieja

December 31st. Malaga. Very tired after driving a thousand kilometers yesterday. It's been an adventure filled year and I feel extremely grateful to have had it so generously full of love and support from family and friends. We'll eat grapes tonight and make toasts, and then I'm going to bed. The girls can party on my behalf.

Many Thanks

A cold, cloudy day in Malaga, perhaps appropriate weather for our Thanksgiving celebration. There are so many thanks to give I feel compelled (and incapable of anything more–a little under the weather with sore throat) to just say THANK YOU everyone and everything. It seems to me that my good fortune is so beyond what any organic being in this universe could possibly hope for that a minimal sense of cosmic justice suggests I be giving back a whole lot more than I am. We'll just have to keep trying. This afternoon we will walk over to Pepe's Restaurante Tormes for a big turkey dinner. Students, friends, and family. It will be fun. Daniela is here, which is wonderful. Too bad she has to go back tonight.

"Past Blessings"

Yesterday I spent a few minutes reading texts by Epicurus and this one really stuck out: "He has become an old man on the day on which he forgot his past blessings." Remembering our past blessings seems to me to be not only a moral imperative, but, taking as truly insightful Epicurus' observation, also a great health recommendation. It's another way, perhaps, to become a little less egocentric. So I read this text, thought for a moment about some of my great good fortune and, of course, Betty and Duane came to mind. What luck! To have grown up with them as my parents was a blessing with a major capital B. I couldn't find a photo of dad on my computer, but here's one of Betty. (Not a flattering shot of her, certainly, but it's all I've got right now...) Forty-two years of blessings for me. And I suppose being always attentive to one's present blessings is not a bad idea either. I think mother was pretty good at that. I'm sure having all those kids took its toll, but it also kept her young in spirit. How about waking up in the morning, as I just did a short time ago. Pretty good, eh? Beats the alternative if you ask me. (I'm not sure I like the idea of dying in my sleep, which many people seem to find attractive. Besides, I sure as hell don't want to kick the bucket all by my lonesome.) In any case, I did wake up today. Yes! And then, coffee!! And really good coffee at that! Here in Malaga it's another foggy dawn, but these clouds burn off quickly.  Unfortunately, it feels like it's going to be a hot, sticky day.

A little more on Epicurus

I'm learning that Epicurus had a lot to say about friendship, one of the corner- stones of his philosophy. Here is one of his obser- vations: "Neither he who is always seeking material aid from his friends nor he who never considers such aid is a true friend; for one engages in petty trade, taking a favor instead of gratitude, and the other deprives himself of hope for the future." Interesting. Friendship involves a lot of trust, mutual trust. Today I feel extremely fortunate to be able to count on some friends who I know are there for me. I hope I can be a true friend to them. Many of the greatest pleasures come from friendship and the security we get from cultivating these friendships. Friends help us stay away from loneliness and with our friends we stay connected to the unfolding of our lives. The photo here is a detail from Velazquez's famous painting of The Feast of Baccus, or The Drinkers. I put it up because yesterday I was having coffee with a guy (not really a friend, not yet, anyway) who looks like this. I think Velazquez's portrait of this man, apart from capturing wonderfully the positive side of alcohol, also suggests that his subject enjoyed the benefits of real friendship. He has a real twinkle in his eyes that is always absent in the lonely. One of my big fears when I stopped drinking was that the party was over, that never again could I enjoy the great feeling of connectedness that is vaguely suggested by Velazquez in this painting. Thankfully, I learned that these fears were totally unfounded. And of course, I learned that the feelings of connectedness that can seem so transcendent at the height of a festive celebration were sometimes illusory, even self-delusional. What happens when the party is over? And that question could lead us back to Epicurus and the nature of pleasure... and around in circles we could keep going, but right now my dear friend Waldo is suggesting a walk along the beach.

Remembering Pat

Tuesday brought very, very sad news. Our dear neighbor Pat Miller passed away unexpectedly. Pat lived right next door to us and it was always a delight to chat with her whenever she stepped out from her kitchen. Pat always had wonderful things to say about our garden, even when it was a complete mess–she always saw the positive. And she always had a ready supply of whatever it was we were missing at the last minute: baking soda, an onion, garlic, sugar... whatever it was, Pat shared it with good cheer. Pat was really the bright light of our neighborhood. She loved having her grandchildren visit and they clearly loved being with a grandmother they adored to no end. I'll never forget the time we had a bonfire in our yard during a big party and the flames, well, they got going good and were reaching a height and intensity that was well beyond what we had scripted. Pat was eyeing them quite suspiciously as it looked like her house might catch on fire! She had every reason to think that I was indeed not funny at all and that we were, in fact, very bad and irresponsible neighbors. But she was a great sport about it and acted as if it were great fun, even though I think the poor woman was feeling, quite rightfully, rather terrified. Our condolences go out to the whole Miller family.