Rest in Peace, Raquel: I had the frisson of sharing an escalator with Ms. Welch in 1994. We were part of a press of theater-goers leaving a performance of “Damned Yankees” on Broadway. I’d like to say that of course I knew I was enveloped in the aura of a very beautiful woman. What I saw out of the corner of my eye—at least I still had some peripheral vision – was a splash of stunning russet hair. I tried to stay cool so I wouldn’t stumble as we stepped off the escalator’s collapsing tread. She vanished briskly into the crowd. The friends who had taken me to the theater caught up with me and asked, “Do you know who that was?” No, not really. “Happens all the time in New York. Close encounters with celebrity in the most mundane places.” Mundane? I never stood next to a celebrity before, unless you count Bonnie Lou from the Midwestern Hayride TV show when I was a little kid. Raquel Welch, really? I’m grateful I didn’t stumble. My inner 14-year-old still doesn’t quite believe it.
My Funny Valentine: I know there have been more rants than kisses here. If ever there were a time to change that, today is the day. I want to see if I can still write Ms. M a love letter. Here goes…
Imagine a time when I am nine years old. It’s Sunday night, and I’m sitting in the dark in the back of a 1955 Ford station wagon. My dad is driving. My mom sits next to him. We’re coming home from another weekend at the Farm.
It’s a time before interstate highways. Lonesome two-lane roads are the only way to get there. The journey home is mapped by small Ohio towns, like Sugar Grove and Circleville and Washington Court House.
It’s a time before Hate Talk Radio. WLW out of Cincinnati plays the latest pop songs, wedged grudgingly between ads and baseball scores. Songs by Burt Bacharach and Hal David. Singers like Dione Warwick and Dusty Springfield. What Does It Mean to Fall in Love? The Look of Love. I Say a Little Prayer.
I sit in the back seat and listen. I’m glad it’s dark. I’d be embarrassed if anyone could see the dreamy look on my face. This is when I begin to notice that quickening of the heart called love.
It happens as soon as you wake up. It happens while you run to the bus stop. It happens on your coffee break when you should be back at work. Kiss someone and you get enough germs to catch pneumonia. Mmmm… no more worrying about cooties.
I know you don’t believe me when I say stuff like this, but that is when I began to fall in love with you.
Something else is happening in the front seat of the car. My mom and dad listen to the same songs while they talk in a low murmur. My mom relives the hurts and insecurities of another weekend with her mother. My dad listens to her as he drives.
This is my first experience of an awesome, archetypal mother-daughter drama that I would witness at times throughout my life. Bearing witness — maybe this is what it means to be present at creation.
My mother talks and my father listens. He speaks sometimes, too, enough to let her know he is listening. He is present for her. He is present like the Rock of Gibraltar is present for the storms that wash over it.
Another song comes on the radio. Alfie. He forgets the movie but knows the music. He plays it by ear whenever he sits down at a keyboard. What’s it all about, Alfie? He doesn’t have an answer other than hanging on to the question. This, too, is how I begin to feel what love is when I am nine years old.
So, my Valentine, I send you both kinds of love today. The romances of Dione and Dusty, of course. And the deeper, subsonic forms. The ones that hold us together, like waves collapsing on the shore, and the rocks that receive and release them.
About the Image: Burt Bacharach and Angie Dickinson share a paparazzi moment at a Hollywood nightclub circa 1966, when they fell in love. Bacharach was the composer of 1960s pop hits like “Say A Little Prayer” and “The Look of Love.” Dickinson was a movie actress with legs famously insured for a million dollars.
Marjorie Taylor Green auditioned for R&K’s Authoritarian It Girl at the 2023 State of the Union address. She and her Republican colleagues yelled like Tarzan swinging through the trees as they jeered and booed the President’s speech.
Earlier in the night, MTG modeled a new white dress with fur trim on the floor of the U.S. House chamber.
In 1959 a guidance counselor at Beavercreek High School told my sister Diana, “With your eye problems you will never make it in college. Just forget about it. Get married. Raise a family.”
That advice only deepened her determination. She did it all in due time, in her own way –college, marriage, family. She became a guidance counselor herself. She certainly was the most important guide and pathfinder in my life.
Diana was the first in our family to graduate from college, and she did it a decade before anyone in America imagined accommodations and services for college students with disabilities. This photo was taken by our brother David moments after she received her diploma at Ohio State University in 1964. Two days later she would marry Harold Jamison, the love of her life. Two months after that she began her first career as a primary school teacher.
Diana’s eye problems began when she was four or five years old and were not understood until I was diagnosed with the same genetic disease when I was a freshman in college. Late as it was, the diagnosis opened up a second career for my sister. She became an intake counselor at a large retina clinic in Memphis, helping newly diagnosed patients find a way through the maze of social services for blind and visually impaired people. She did the same for me.
It goes far beyond the publishing capacity of Facebook to tell the whole story of how Diana shaped my life. For now, let me tell you two stories from the 1990s when she launched a third career as a special ed teacher.
Several nights a week we found ourselves on opposite ends of a long-distance phone line sorting out the same life scenarios. Middle-aged with children, half-blind and sliding further down the path, working our way through graduate school a course at a time, butting heads with the lingering inaccessibility of university libraries and computer systems. As the Marvin Gaye song goes, “Makes you wanna holler!” We knew we could do that with each other, for each other. It’s still hard to believe I can’t call her up to holler now.
In this time our mother Mary Lou lived with Alzheimer disease at Friends Care Center. One day on a visit I tried to explain to her that her children were in grad school. I thought that might please her.
She said in a baffled tone, “Are you sure you two are smart enough to do that?”
For an instant I remembered a line from a B.B. King blues song: “Only my mother loves me, and she may be jiving, too.”
“I don’t know, Mom,” I said finally, “but we will try.”
A year later Diana had to explain to our mother that I had a heart attack and underwent emergency open heart surgery. She told me later how Mom was still a worried mother, frightened and confused.
Here is documentation of the fall migration as of October 4 at the Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge on Lake Erie. Thanks to Douglas Vogus., who published the monthly census on the OHIO-BIRDS email list.
OCTOBER 04, 2015 – Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge Monthly Census.ROUTES: Same usual east & west side routes in the morning; Afternoon coverage limited due to youth waterfowl huntingon the refuge; quick run through the back side & then census the perimeters of the refuge on the back side.TIME: 8:00am-12:30pm; 1:45pm-5:15pm TEMP.: 44-70-64 COND.: Overcast until 9:15am; then turning partly to mostlysunny until 11:15am; mostly cloudy from 11:15am on; winds E/NE at 5-10mph.OBS.: Katie Clink (morning only), Donna Kuhn, Dave & Kim Myles (morning only), Ed Pierce, Jim Reyda,Al & Betty Schlecht (morning only) & Douglas W. Vogus.
I. MAMMALS: 3 SPECIES.
– Woodchuck – 2
– Eastern Fox Squirrel – 6
– White-tailed Deer – 4 (doe)
The Detroit River Hawk Watch (a joint venture of the Detroit River International Wildlife Refuge and its Friends group, the International Wildlife Refuge Alliance) is the Boat Launch at Lake Erie Metropark located approximately 20 miles south of Detroit, Michigan. The location is at the mouth of the Detroit River as it enters Lake Erie.
During the autumn months, the lower Detroit River (MI) becomes a corridor for the passage of migratory birds, and has gained international recognition for the annual volume of birds of prey. Hundreds of thousands of migrating hawks, eagles, falcons, and vultures are concentrated at this location where it is possible to systematically count them each year. A standardized monitoring program is conducted by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS), the Detroit River International Wildlife Refuge (DRIWR) and its friends group, the International Wildlife Refuge Alliance (IWRA).
Here is documentation of the fall migration as of September 6 at the Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge on Lake Erie. Thanks to Douglas Vogus., who published the monthly census on the OHIO-BIRDS email list. I publish it here so I can marvel at the detail, especially the butterfly count!
SEPTEMBER 06, 2015 – Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge Monthly Census. ROUTES: Same usual morning and afternoon routes. TIME: 8:00am-12:10pm; 1:40pm-6:50pm TEMP.: 68-89COND.: Warm early turning sunny, hot & humid.OBS.: Mike Edgington, Donna Kuhn, Dave & Kim Myles (morning only), Ed Pierce, Jim Reyda, Al & Betty Schlecht (morning only),Tony Szilagye (morning only) & Douglas W. Vogus.
IV. AMPHIBIANS: 3 SPECIES.
– Bullfrog
– Green Frog
– Northern Leopard Frog
V. FISHES: 3 SPECIES.
– Bowfin – 8
– Gizzard Shad – thousands (being fed on by Bowfin)
– Brown Bullhead – about 60 (in the ditch along gravel Krause Rd. – between 2″ and 12”)
150 years after Robert Duncanson painted this luminist scene on the Little Miami River, I stood in the same spot and saw a soft-shelled turtle sunning on a snag. It slipped silently into the water when it heard me. That’s when I knew past is present and destiny, too. That’s when my vision of the Ghost Turtles began. Read more
Ecology of the Senses
Returning to Lake Superior year after year like a migrating loon, I’ve learned the other side of a slow, uncertain process that could be called “going blind.” With the lake as my teacher, I know what lies on the other side. I call it letting go of sight. Read more.
Prayer at Big Creek
At the threshold of consciousness, as I slipped back and forth between two worlds, I put my mind in the best place I could imagine, a marsh on Lake Erie called Big Creek. I knew I’d find cranes waiting for me. I cannot say whether I prayed for them, or to them, or with them. The cant of words doesn’t matter. I believe in the still, small voice. I believe what the poet Yehuda Amichai said. Gods come and go. Prayer is eternal. Read more
Freedom to Read
Whenever I hear sanctimonious pronouncements about woke, parental rights, and banning books, I think of Whooping cranes. In my family, the gawky, audacious, elusive and endangered birds are synonymous with our values about the First Amendment and the freedom to read. Read more.
Sister, Teacher, Pathfinder
A guidance counselor in high school told my sister Diana, “With your eye problems you will never make it in college. Just forget about it. Get married. Raise a family.” That advice only deepened her determination. She did it all in due time, in her own way –college, marriage, family. She became a guidance counselor herself. She certainly was the most important guide and pathfinder in my life. Read more.
Flaneur & Bouquiniste
I remember the book I held in my hands that day. I remember the feel of its time-warped, water-stained pages. I remember its murky, moldy river smell, call it the book’s bouquet, suggesting years of storage on the banks of the Seine. Had I bought it then, I could feel and smell it now and know it from a hundred other books in my library. Read more.
R & K: A Rant
Marjorie Taylor Green auditioned for R&K’s Authoritarian It Girl at the 2023 State of the Union address. She and her Republican colleagues yelled like Tarzan swinging through the trees as they jeered and booed the President’s speech. Read Rants & Kisses.
R & K: A Kiss
Songs by Burt Bacharach and Hal David. Singers like Dione Warwick and Dusty Springfield. What Do You Get When You Fall in Love? The Look of Love. I Say a Little Prayer. I sit in the car’s back seat and listen. I’m glad it’s dark. I’d be embarrassed if anyone could see the dreamy look on my face. Read Rants & Kisses.