Second Wind

It's all relative.

I’ve been thinking about time lately. I should have “more of it” but it doesn’t feel that way. In truth you can’t have more time. Time just is. You can’t make it or reduce it. Time doesn’t care about your to do list. It happens regardless of you. We’re just observers/experiencers/voyageurs. We are in time but can’t change it yet doesn’t Einstein’s Relativity say we can all experience time differently? Or at least our perception of it. Clearly I am not a student of Einsteinian physics but I am thinking about my perception of time.

The Egyptians may have been the first to divide time into twelve. They noticed a year had twelve lunar cycles which led to twelve months, of 30 days each (they knew the year was longer than 360 days but like an eager junior designer were more keen on the integrity of it all). Wanting to divide the day into equal halves, they assigned twelve hours to daylight and twelve hours to night time. To make their system work seasonally they simply made an hour longer in the winter to accommodate longer nights rather than mess with the balance and beauty of twelve. After the French Revolution, when the French created the metric system, they even tried to change time keeping from a duodecimal (base twelve system) to a decimal system (base ten). It failed. There is only so far a salmon can swim against the current before it dies.

Did we conquer time or did time conquer us? I’m with the latter. Though I suppose with electric light we can fool ourselves into extending our waking day into the night. The solstice has just passed meaning the longest day is behind us and the days are already growing shorter. That is an odd phrase: to grow shorter. It is also cruel. It means summer begins by shrinking towards winter. Our days will contract for six months before they expand again. The Egyptians had it wrong but it was a valiant effort to bring simplicity to the complexity of time.

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Who Killed Friday

"Hey everybody, it's Friday!"

Fridays used to be fun. Fridays were indulgent. Fridays were an oasis in the desert. Fridays were something to look forward to. Fridays were a joyous sigh released by an entire city. Casual Fridays meant comfy jeans, and well-worn flannel shirts. Fridays were without ties. Fridays were without peers. Fridays had their own special kind of energy. Everyone you met felt the same relief that the weekend was upon them. Fridays had drinks on the patio. Fridays had late night movies. Fridays had raucous concerts. Fridays used to be the chocolate fudge sundaes of weekdays. Fridays used to be cool. Then I retired.

Now Fridays are just one day of seven. There is no expectation of a little bit of a “lie-in” on Saturday. Any day can have a “lie-in”. When you can do something special anytime you want, it isn’t special anymore. Friday is just one of those boxes on the calendar, hardly different from any other box anywhere else on the calendar. 

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Needed

We are man, and somewhere we are needed.

The morning after being told I was laid off was sunny and warm. I had officially joined the sacked lunch bunch. Without any more excuses or reasons to be busy, I decided I should tackle assembling our new patio table. It was a flat-packed metal thing that required a handful of bolts to be tightened. Strangely, the manufacturer had included not only a small wrench and a hex-head key, but also a cleverly cheap little ratcheting wrench. It was so clever and cheap that it didn’t work at all. I realized, of course, that I own a ratchet set and should probably go and fetch it rather than follow my instincts and try and fix the nonfunctional piece of junk in my hand.

As I put together the last connection and tightened the last of the bolts, it occurred to me that some people may not own such a fundamental piece of kit and would be cursing their scarred knuckles as they struggled to use a typical screwdriver. It then dawned on me that while I had been made redundant, I was not, in fact, redundant but may still be needed. I may actually be necessary. “Yes,” I thought, “I am a man and I am necessary.”

Who else do you know that can refer to his own analogue barometer and hygrometer? Who can you count on for 1980s CFL trivia? Who can you go to when you’re wondering who designed the CN logo? Who else has thought about a New Yorker profile about the man who designed the Verdana typeface? Who will hold the other end of the board? Who will replace blown bike tires? Who will re-chain your bike using only a house key? Who will stand outside of a construction site and tut-tut that they are making a mess out of this? Who will roast your vegetables instead of steaming them? Who will grill your meat even if you’re in the mood for pizza? Who will bake the bread a hundred times until it’s better but really no one can notice any difference? Who will spend far too much time creating personalized birthday cards? Who, unsolicited, will pass judgement on the pictogram choice of public signage? Who will know trivial facts about Roman-era London? Who else is currently thinking about a recipe for homemade lemon custard raspberry swirl ice cream? Only me. All of this is needed and necessary. I am a man and I was, am, and remain necessary.

Concept of a Plan

I have a concept of a thing that may or may not be planned.

When a presidential candidate claimed to have a concept of a plan for healthcare, people laughed. Now that same candidate is a president in a war and when asked what was his exit plan for this war, he said, “It’s simple.”, then said an outcome. Not a plan. What he thinks is a plan, is really the outcome of whatever the plan is. He could be an idiot (most likely) or, and stay with me, the most incredibly adept liar of all time.

OK. For the record, he is factually the most incredible liar of all time. No one else is even close. So I thought, why can’t I have a concept of a plan? If someone asks what my plan is for the next five years, I can just say I have a concept of a plan.

I have a notion of a thought.

I have a rumination of a dream.

I have an ideation of a reality.

I have a sketch of a position.

I have a cartoon of a hypothetical.

I have a maquette of a theory.

I have a charette of a policy.

I have a System of a Down.

I have a bromide of a platitude.

I have a recipe for disaster. It’s really something, which is better than nothing, even as it’s worth noting that it is actually no thing. It is without a doubt, a concept of a plan.

Seen in May

Recreation in Marty Supreme.

Unexpectedly, I had more time on my hands than usual this month. Unhindered by labour as it were, it was also a wonderful time to be outside and enjoy the warmer weather with which we’ve been bestowed. These two competing interests, one enjoyed in a dark interior room, the other under our sweet and warming sun, did not deter me from seeing some of the more enjoyable entertainments on offer.

Still on an Icelandic glacier in Time and Water

Time and Water
Hot Docs
A strangely introspective and personal reflection of the death of an Icelandic glacier based on the writings of Andri Snær Magnason. For Icelanders there was a belief that the glaciers were always there and would always be there, so the announcement that the smallest of the glaciers had shrunk away and disappeared was a shock. The clear evidence of climate change, that seems at times unstoppable, has become not just an existential crisis but also a spiritual one for Icelanders. Near the end of the film, we see a ceremony like a funeral where a plaque is installed with Magnason’s words, asking the question to future generations, “Did we do the right thing? Did we do what was needed?”

The Boys S05
Prime Video
The final season of this very grown-up, violent and purposefully toxic comic book series that throughout took a satirical and critical view on corporations like Disney and Marvel, and the conflation of celebrity, politics and religion currently happening in the US. What would it be like if a large corporation controlled media, politics and the military and could create actual enhanced human super-heroes? Probably terrible. In the end there is some redemption but enough loose ends to continue another series if they desired (and they do; a ‘prequel’ is already being advertised).

Supremely Marty Supreme.

Marty Supreme
Prime Video
I can see why this film garnered so much attention and praise. Excellent performances from Timothée Chamalet and Odessa A’zion, full of surprising cameos, a great script and lively direction and editing all make this an entertaining ride. Marty Mauser (Chamalet) is a table tennis talent and champion and also a classic American hustler based on the real life story of Marty Reisman. It’s postwar 1940’s US and America is riding high on the world stage, but that doesn’t mean life is any easier down in the boroughs of New York. Marty is talented salesman, which is pretty much the same thing as a hustler and he’s determined to make table tennis as big in the US as it is in Asia. I don’t think the story wants a black-and-white hero versus villain but it’s easy to see this is the same America that created Death of a Salesman. In some ways it feels like a companion piece to Death of a Salesman and Glengarry Glenn Ross. Marty is overconfident and aspires to greatness by being number one in the world. The fact that he may only be the second best table tennis player in the world isn’t enough. There’s also a bit of “you can fool some of the people, some of the time, but not all of the people all the time,” lessons in this film. While the movie is great, I found it a little hard to find someone to root for and care about. On one hand you get caught up in Marty’s own self-belief, but on the other hand, he leaves a trail of burned bridges and broken dreams to try to achieve his goals. There’s an equal amount of desperation to go with his aspiration.

A different kind of super-hero show.

Wonderman S01 Disney+
I’m not that familiar with the original Wonder Man comic but I don’t think it matters much. In the Marvel TV-Verse, Simon Williams (the very talented Yahya Abdul-Mateen II), is a struggling actor in LA, trying to keep his super abilities a secret. In this world, Hollywood won’t hire ‘enhanced’ individuals (explained in an episode about the Doorman Clause). Ben Kingsley reprises his comic role as Trevor Slatterly (aka The Mandarin), sprung from prison to assist the Department of Damage Control. It’s a different kind of super-hero show, because much of it is more about the dynamic of Simon and Trevor, both of whom are carrying heavy secrets, but leveraging those personal pressures in their acting. It’s a part of the Marvel Universe you sometimes see, and what really separates Marvel from DC.

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All the Days

The crickets and the rust-beetles scuttled among the nettles of the sage thicket. "Vámonos, amigos," he whispered, and threw the busted leather flintcraw over the loose weave of the saddlecock. And they rode on in the friscalating dusklight.

During the pandemic, (pardon the use of that tired phrase), with many people dealing with kids at home, or caretaker responsibilities, or the general polycrises of it all, my company gave everyone an extra day off each quarter. There was no obligation to show up, go to meetings, or do anything for anyone other than yourself. These quarterly, and more importantly, company-wide days off, were referred to as a Day for Me. Occasionally, like a lunar eclipse, one of these Days for Me would align with a pre-existing holiday, giving you a four-day weekend. A golden, obligatory, obligation-free number of days. Last week was one of those alignments.

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