Closing credits (2017)

Zero degrees, Fahrenheit. “Feels like −11°,” says the Weather Channel. Plenty snowy, too.

No heat in the church building, so tomorrow’s service is canceled. I’m glad Karin gets two full days off (the 31st and the 1st).

And so ends 2017. This is my hundredth entry of the year.

For providing material to discuss, I wish to thank:

Karin.

The kitties, Jasper and Ziva.

All the soccer players.

The weather.

Kazuo Ishiguro.

Bertrand Russell.

Russell (the dog).

My other family members.

My tutees.

The LimeBikes of South Bend.

The fire department of South Bend, for turning us out of our first marital dwelling. (That building has been demolished. There’s a vacant lot where once was so much love.)

The church camp.

President Lenín Moreno.

President Donald Trumpie.

ProQuest, for storing many dissertations.

The State of Wisconsin.

Brianna and other in-laws.

The Bee Gees, for singing “Fanny.”

The Isle of Man.

Wilkie Collins.

Flashman.

The Irish. I didn’t blog about them, but they figured prominently in what I read and watched on TV. A nod, also, to the Scottish (it goes without saying that I was obsessed with the English and the Australians). I wonder if 2018 will be the year of the Russians.

I hardly saw any new movies. The most I did was to catch up on the offerings of the last decade. Two standouts were It Follows (2014) and Man on Wire (2008). Tonight I saw Nerve (2016), which was a cut above most of what gets released nowadays. (It strikes me that all three of these movies supply a good dose of existential dread.) I did watch a lot of TV. I spent many happy hours immersed in Broadchurch, Midsomer Murders, and Shetland – British crime shows – and in Rake, which is about lawyers and politicians in New South Wales. (I was transfixed, if not happy, watching The Fall, another British crime show.) Of these, I urge everyone to try out Rake; as one reviewer puts it, beneath its farcicality it’s about how to be good. Man on Wire I also unreservedly recommend. It’s about how sometimes a person’s calling has nothing to do with being good, but with doing one beautiful and useless thing.

Good night!

I am lavished with more gifts

I wish everyone a happy Carlos Muñoz Day. In South Bend, it’s seven degrees, Fahrenheit (“feels like −8°,” says the Weather Channel). There’s no way, no way, I’ll leave the house unless it’s to eat in a restaurant.

The Xmas dust has nearly all settled. Karin’s relations don’t practice the “Secret Santa” method of giving; instead, everyone gives to everyone. Karin gave to her little nephew and niece a miniature toilet that sprays water on people’s faces. This gift was hugely successful. In turn, Karin & I received a Crock-Pot, slightly better than the one we already had; a coffee maker, slightly better than what we had; and lots of candy. Karin’s dad gave me a t-shirt that says got philosophy? Karin’s mom gave me a book: Batman and Philosophy: The Dark Knight of the Soul. One of its contributing authors was David’s teacher at Western Michigan University; I’m dismayed that his contribution, “Could Batman Have Been the Joker?,” isn’t listed on his C.V. The last gift from Karin’s mom is yet to be delivered: David Bentley Hart’s translation of the New Testament.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

On Saturday morning, I awoke at 7:00 to watch the Spanish clásico. It was worth the early rising. Messi was brilliant. The two goalkeepers, Navas and ter Stegen, were brilliant. But the game’s best play was by Sergio Busquets, who set up the first goal with a few calm turns and a short pass to Ivan Rakitić deep in Barcelona’s half of the field. As soon as Rakitić touched the ball, I could see that everything would “break” for Barcelona, that Real’s defenders would be drawn out of position and Barcelona would “run the table” and score. It was one of the best goals I’d seen all year.

After the game, some commentators talked about how this clásico lacked luster, how Barcelona and Real Madrid are in dynastic twilight. Nonsense. As long as Messi and Busquets are playing, Barcelona will be a special team.

Xmas’s eve’s eve’s eve

One third of my vacation is spent. I didn’t write as much as I should’ve done. I can’t even claim to have rested well.

My cold persists. Its decline, while slow, is at least steady. (Karin’s cold yo-yos up and down.)

Ziva has been discreetly vomiting – we think she’s trying to work a furball out of herself. Tonight, Jasper did a tremendous vomit. He scarfed down his quarter-cup of supper (he isn’t used to dieting yet). What goes down (like that) must come up. Karin took pity and gave Jasper a little more food.

Thanks to my “Secret Santa,” I’ve received the first four volumes from my wishlist. Just eight more volumes to go.

Festivities begin tomorrow with a full night and morning of partying at Karin’s dad’s house. Then, we’ll spend Christmas’s Eve at my Uncle John’s & Aunt Lorena’s house. As always, I look forward to the mini-wieners and other snacks to be served there.

The Peruvians got an early Xmas present. Paolo Guerrero’s ban was reduced to six months. He will play in the World Cup. To the authorities, he offered up the old “coca leaf, not cocaine” defense.

Howards End (the book)

Emelec beat Delfín to win the Ecuadorian championship. Barcelona failed to qualify for next year’s Copa Libertadores.

The Oakland Raiders, whom I’ve been casually following this season, came within inches of scoring the touchdown that would’ve kept their playoff hopes alive. Rather than score, they did this.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

The good news is that my health is much restored. My cold lingers but no longer pains me. I’ve been resting at home, drinking water and tea and dosing myself with Mucinex.

Karin, who’s been tending to me, is a little sicker now.

Last Friday night, we went to a birthday party for my dear grandpa (his ninetieth).

Today, the air was rather warm, and I walked for half an hour by the river. I wore a coat that one of my fellow tutors gave to me on the last day of the term.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

My newest reading project is Howards End by E.M. Forster. This is the book of the Wilcoxes vs. the Schlegels: the materialistic English vs. the romantic “German” English. The book also depicts a few representatives of the hapless English poor, whose role is to be the grass trampled upon by the two warring upper-class factions.

Walkabout (the book)

It’s been cold and very snowy, and I’m sick. This is what comes of walking outside without a coat.

Happily, tomorrow is the semester’s last day, and the stream of tutees has pretty well dried out. I sit at my work table and read. One book I’ve finished is Walkabout, the classic Outback story by James Vance Marshall. In tone, it’s very different from the movie that was made after it.

Spoiler alert!

In the novel, the death of the “bush” boy is less bleak than it is in the movie. The white girl looks at the “bush” boy with terror because he’s naked. The “bush” boy infers from her terror that he’s going to be visited by the spirit of death. Then he catches a cold from the white boy. Coupled with auto-suggestion, this is enough to kill the “bush” boy.

The white girl feels remorse and allows the “bush” boy to die with his head upon her lap. In death, then, the “bush” boy is comforted.

Still, it isn’t what one would wish to read while suffering from a cold.

End of spoiler.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Karin & I took Jasper to his annual veterinary check-up. He weighed 14 lbs., approximately 133% of his ideal weight. Karin & I have reduced both kitties’ rations. We’re also policing Jasper so that he doesn’t steal food from Ziva.

Snow

… has begun falling upon South Bend. A good few inches have stacked up. Trucks plow and salt the roads. When I go out walking, I wear two tattered, hooded sweatshirts – I’ve outgrown my winter coat.

It feels as if winter has been here all along.

Xmas gifts have been arriving through the post. I thank whoever sends them (my siblings and I are using the “Secret Santa” method). I, too, have been ordering gifts for my designated beneficiary.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

I congratulated Edoarda & Stephen for staying at home the last few wintry days. Stephen, who’s just had his wisdom teeth removed, alternates between viewing the TV, sleeping, and throwing up. Edoarda watches over him.

Karin & I visited E&S last night. We viewed the episode of The Office in which Steve Carell spanks his jackass of a nephew. That justice of that scene was most pleasing.

At my own office, the year is slowly, strenuously concluding. Yesterday, one tutee asked me to proofread seven pages – hardly an unusual request. But the next tutee brought in 14 pages, and then a third brought in 28 pages, single-spaced. Her expectations were too high. Each tutoring session should require 30 minutes or less. (And, besides, we tutors aren’t supposed to proofread – we’re obliged only to explain “patterns of error.”)

I suppose there are moments in every job when the worker questions the wisdom of his industry. I was far beyond that stage. I only wanted the suffering to end, and it did, several hours later.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Paolo Guerrero’s ban for taking cocaine has been extended until November of next year. Peru will miss him in the World Cup.

Meanwhile, the ban upon Emelec’s stadium has been rescinded (alas). What’s more, Ecuadorian TV companies have been forbidden from broadcasting the domestic finals – I’m not sure why – and the referees are threatening to strike for past-due wages.

Fire

The Ecuadorian soccer schedue is winding down. Barcelona can no longer win the domestic league. The team still aims to qualify for next year’s Copa Libertadores.

The league title will be disputed between heroic Delfín, of Manabí Province, and dastardly Emelec. The final round consists of a two-game, home-and-away series. Emelec will be forced to stage its “home” game away from its own stadium due to an earlier misdeed (some Emelec fans burst open a water-filled plastic bag upon the manager of an opposing team).

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

It’s the week before IUSB’s final exams, and tutoring is extended two hours later than usual – well into the night. I’ve been scheduled to work during most of these lonely hours. Karin sat with me tonight and pasted things into her animal sticker book.

I’m still reading the Inferno. All along, I’ve been having trouble visualizing hell. But these pictures of the wildfires in Ventura County, California, are helping a great deal.

(Thanks, Creighton P., for sharing the photos, which were published by the L.A. Times.)

The World Cup groups

[Dreaming]

Put me in, Coach.

[Telephone rings]

What’s the score? !!!

[Answers telephone]

How many?

Twenty-six, Mr. President.

Holy cow. No wonder Dreyfus wants that Clouseau killed. He’s a one-man army. Who’s left?

Just the Russian … and the Egyptian.

Life won’t mirror art. Either the Russian team or the Egyptian team will survive Group A, but they won’t both survive it.

Nor will the Saudis survive Group A.

The Uruguayans will survive it easily enough – and with one eye upon the first game of Round 2, in which they’ll face either the Portuguese or the Spanish. Those teams will have dispatched the Iranians and Moroccans in Group B.

The other groups are less predictable.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Group C: Australia, Denmark, France, and Peru. Any of them could advance. This, more than any other, is the group of chokers.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Group D: Croatia and Iceland … and, for the fifth time in the latest seven World Cups, Argentina together with Nigeria. The Argentinians have always won that fixture. The Croatians and Icelanders also are familiar foes, having played each other in recent qualifiers. A very interesting group.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Group E: The Brazilians definitely will advance. The Costa Ricans are about as good as they were in the previous World Cup, though less surprisingly so. Serbia and Switzerland have enough talent to get to Round 2. Another interesting group.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Group F: The Germans are as predictable as their trains. They’ll advance.

The South Koreans also have predictable trains. Their record in World Cups, while less successful than that of the Germans, is just as steady:

In 2002, they advanced out of the group stage.

In 2006, they were eliminated.

In 2010, they advanced.

In 2014, they were eliminated.

This time, they’re due to advance.

Will this World Cup be the Mexicans’ group-stage undoing? They always seem likely to crash out early, and yet they always scrape through to the first knockout round.

Sweden … who knows.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Group G: This is one wimpy group. The Belgians and English are talented chokers. Still, they should advance past Panama and Tunisia.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Group H: Japan has extremely reliable trains. Its recent World Cup pattern is the same as South Korea’s. Senegal is one of the most talented teams in Africa. Even so, I’ll lay money on Colombia and Poland not only to advance, but to defeat their Group G opponents in the first knockout round.

And so I conclude my expert analysis.