Watched Spider-Man last night, the new one. Peter is raised by President Bartlet and Mary Todd Lincoln. He doesn’t ride a champion horse in a previous life, but there’s still a lot to live up too, movie-wise. Dennis Leary is miscast, the logical conclusion of every joke from the 1980s. Aunt Mae is really Forrest Gump’s mother, after she faked her death in Greenbow. The timelines may match up.
There’s as much wrong with the movie as there is right. Peter Parker is too self-assured. Spider-Man has to be whiny and thoughtful. Imagine what he should be thinking in this scene:
That’s the best Stan Lee cameo so far, I think.
Finally, Emma Stone has always been too soulful to be a high school student, and she’s too old for the part, but cast her wherever you can. And, Gwen gets rid of Mary Jane for this movie, so that’s a victory. But she’s dating a spider, working for a lizard and the daughter of a man with a Cindy Crawford obsession. Poor Skeeter.
Also, Uncle President Ben Bartlet’s voicemail was a moving moment:
But when I watched that scene the second time I realized that the guy having a Rear Window poster in his room was easily the most interesting thing about the character. And that might not be the best endorsement ever.
Now for something kind-hearted: A local non-profit lost almost their entire line of product in the UPS crash in Birmingham yesterday. They employ women in India to keep them out of the sex slave trade. But now they have no product. Freeset is the organization’s name, and by virtue of some of our students’ work I know the excellent reputation they have.
So this nonprofit that just lost their entire inventory, that is worried about what that means for their on-the-precipice employees, is pledging to raise money for the pilots of that UPS flight. All of the proceeds of this Freeset shirt are going to the families.
Some people will amaze you. Some people will never stop doing it.
Ran a 5K tonight, if you count all of the walking. Something was hurting, so I shut it down. Aside from needing the conditioning and having a the benefit of a bit more conditioning and my general lousy form there was no need to press on while a bunch of things hurt.
So I walked a bit.
Saw this sign at the edge of someone’s yard:
A few years ago a local developer wanted to take all this beautiful wooded land that abuts a state park and the running/biking trail and a quiet little wooded neighborhood and put up Just Another Strip Mall. The neighbors fought it. The proposal was yanked. And they haven’t been heard from for several years.
But the sign is ready, and you have to appreciate that sort of vigilance.
You might not go in for poetry slams, but there’s something about this guy that is worth seeing.
There are two nice little moments in there in the second half, but right before the end there’s a big “Whoa” moment. You’re just not really prepared for that. Life surprises you like that sometimes. You have to be ready.
We did conferences this morning, where there were sessions and many tweets and meeting people and plenty of good research and teaching ideas. The conference is a good one.
In the late afternoon we ventured over to see the nice people who work in our Congressman’s office. We know them because we are High Powered People. You should see The Yankee’s pictures which prove it.
Anyway, one of them gave us a lovely, personal and individualized tour of this place:
Maybe you’ve heard of it.
Each stand has two statues installed at the capitol. One of Alabama’s, the newest addition which was installed in 2009 by sculptor Edward Hlavka is Helen Keller:
She replaced Jabez Curry, whom hardly anyone remembers — our guide was surprised I knew who he was. But let’s be honest about this: I’m me. And Curry was important. Also, that statue is now two floors below my office on campus.
Here’s the other statue, of Fightin’ Joe Wheeler, a man so awesome he was a Confederate general and then, decades later, an American general. If they come any tougher than Fighting Joe you don’t want to know about it. He was born in Georgia, was raised in Connecticut and died in New York. But he considered himself a Southerner and represented Alabama in the House of Representatives for several terms. I guess that qualifies for statuary.
He went from lieutenant to colonel to general in about nine months and made major general by 27, which you could do in the calvary if you lived long enough. He fought at Shiloh, Corinth, Chickamauga and Chattanooga. He was just about the only thing that slowed down Sherman, fought in Knoxville, Atlanta and Savannah, but the Georgians nevertheless didn’t care much for Wheeler. In the scheme of things it was largely ineffectual. He also fought in the Carolinas and try to cover the cowardly retreat of Jefferson Davis. He was captured late in the war, but only after he’d been wounded three times and had 16 horses shot out from under him. Sixteen!
He commanded calvary in the Spanish-American War, and was over a young Theodore Roosevelt there. Edmund Morris, in his near-hagiography The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt has Wheeler anecdote I shared today (from pages 668 and 675, respectively):
According to invasion orders, Major General Joseph (“Fighting Joe”) Wheeler, commander of the Calvary Division, was supposed to follow Brigadier General H.W. Lawton of the 2nd Infantry Division to Siboney and remain there to supervise the rest of the landing operation while Lawton established himself farther inland on the Camino Real, or Santiago road. But not for nothing had Fighting Joe earned his nickname, and his reputation of “never staying still in one place long enough for the Almighty to put a finger on him.” The fact that Lawton was tall, and fought for the Union in the Civil War, while Wheeler was five foot two, and had been the leader of the Confederate cavalry, only intensified the latter’s ambition to be first to encounter “the Yankees — dammit, I mean the Spaniards.” Needless to say, this attitude endeared him to the Rough Riders. “A regular game-cock,” was Roosevelts opinon of the bristling little general.
[…]
The way was now open for a final grand charge by all the American forces, with Roosevelt commanding the extreme left, Wood commanding the center, and the regulars on the right advancing under orders from General Wheeler himself. About nine hundred men broke out into the open and ran up the valley (Roosevelt stopping to pick up three Mauser cartridges as souvenirs for his children), their rifle-cracks drowned in the booming of four Hotchkiss mountain-guns. Like ants shaken from a biscuit, some fifteen hundred Spaniards leaped from their rock-forts along the ridge and scattered in the direction of Santiago. “We’ve got the damn Yankees on the run!” roard Fighting Joe.
He also commanded a brigade during the Philippine-American War until January 1900. He wrote five books, co-authored several more and appeared in an early film, Surrender of General Toral. He’s one of the few former Confederates buried at Arlington. This statue has been on display at the Capitol for 88 years. And he’s always been in front of Sam Houston:
That statue, with Wheeler in Confederate uniform, was made by Berthold NebelBut that means that northwest Alabama is over-represented at the Capitol. I wonder if anyone has figured that out yet.
This clock was on display in the House of Representatives chamber for almost 75 years, from around the Civil War until just before the stock market crashed. (The clock had nothing to do with either, we’re sure.) The gilded oak case was designed by Joseph A. Bailly and built by the A. Bembe and Kimbel Company. The bronze eagle was modeled by Guido Butti, who did a lot of Capitol work, and cast by Archer, Warner, Miskey and Company. William H. Rinehart designed the Indian and Hunter figures. They were cast by Cornelius and Baker.
This is the original Supreme Court. Just outside the door are the hooks where they hanged their robes. The nameplates are a new addition. But this is where the Justices heard arguments and that railing there, just on the other side of the padded seat, is thought to have given us the phrase “passed the bar.”
This Magna Carta replica was given to us by the UK. The presentation case is stainless steel, clad in gold and white. The panel in the front is inscribed with a replica of the Magna Carta and has replicas of King John’s seal. The vertical glass panel is the English translation.
There are symbolic decorations of Adam and Eve, 50 diamonds representing the states, above a dove and a tree of life, a snake representing evil, the fruit of original sin and mistletoe. There’s the Tudor Rose of England, the Shamrock of Ireland, thistles of Scotland and daffodils of Wales. Thirty-one craftsmen worked on this case, designed by the man who made Prince Charles’ investiture crown.
It was presented to celebrate the bicentennial of American independence, in 1976. The oldest original copy of the Magna Carta rested here for a year.
This is the old Senate chamber. It was used from 1810 until 1859. Daniel Webster, Henry Clay, John C. Calhoun, all of the names you read about in history class sat here. Many of the desks (now reproductions as the surviving originals have been moved to the modern Senate) have books placed on them marking historic figures or events.
That is an original George Washington painting, by Rembrandt Peale. The desk where the vice president sat is also original. Our guide mistakenly, or not so mistakenly, called it a throne.
This room was never humble. The Congress has always thought of themselves as better than the rest of us:
This is the famous, and famously incorrect John Trumbull painting.
John Adams explains it himself:
Here’s a more … clever … interpretation of Trumbull’s vision. Nevertheless, this is the first completed painting of four Revolutionary-era scenes that the U.S. Congress commissioned from John Trumbull.
Speaking of paintings. Did you know that Samuel Morse dabbled with the colors? Morse of the Morse code Morses, that is. This is a study for the old House of Representatives chamber. He did this around 1821, to prepare for a nine-by-11 foot painting of the space.
There is apparently only one section of floor in the Capitol that is mosaic. This is one corner of it:
This Ronald Reagan, sculpted by Chas Fagan statue is in the Capitol rotunda as one of California’s two statues. The Tennessee Rose marble pedestal includes a narrow band of concrete pieces from the Berlin Wall. You can just see it at the bottom of the photo.
One of my favorite things about Washington is the symbolism and how so many small details of history and meaning are intertwined in everything, just like that statue. Also, if you want to see more about all of the state’s statues, here’s the official site.
I’d almost completely forgotten about this, but our guide suggested we go see the Toomer’s Oak on Capitol Hill before the rains came. If I’d been on top of my game I would have visited a restroom in the Capitol, grabbed some toilet paper and did this up proper. But we rolled it anyway, with TP from the Cannon Building, one of the Congressional offices.
We carefully removed the paper after taking a few pictures.
The Library of Congress, which is situated across from the Capitol:
We took the Metro over to Arlington National Cemetery. We walked around for a long time, seeing the Kennedy’s and several Alabama men, a Medal of Honor winner Harry Parks and more generals than you can shake an admiral at.
We made it up to the tomb just in time to see the changing of the guard.
We also walked over to Dean Hallmark’s grave. I wrote about him. His cousin is my friend. The two men buried on either side of him are also Doolittle Raiders. Elite company on that quiet little hill.
We had a lot of walking today — and my feet would tell you all about it — and more tomorrow.
Well I’m back in this space. As I said here previously, and sparingly, in the last month, there hasn’t been a lot going on here. I’ve been doing work and catching up on the blog with all of the photos and videos and experiences of our Irish and English and cruise adventures. Scroll down to see them all.
Otherwise there were the few other things that I mentioned here. And then there was a little bit of riding and some running and eating healthy things and cutting back on a few of the unhealthy things and petting the cat and enjoying what has heretofore been a mild summer and so on.
There is a bridge close to home that has been out for forever, at least since March It is on a two-lane country road that drops down and bottoms out at the creek bed. And it is a little bridge, the name of the water ends with the word creek. Why it is has taken so long to repair or replace the bridge is a mystery.
I could ride over the bridge, so closed is something of an open proposition at this point. But the crew was still working on it, well into the evening hours. Behind me, as I enjoyed a bit of shade and some water and pondering my new plan — because I had intended to go over that bridge, back up the other side and over one of the bigger hills we have here, but now I can’t — a deputy sheriff pulled up. She’d driven down to see if she could find out how much longer this bridge work was going to take.
So it is safe to assume no one knows.
Recently the county received $15.6 million from the state for road projects, so we’ll see more orange barrels in the future, I’m sure. It seems the county planners are looking at other bridges.
So I ended up going a different route this evening. I went up roads I normally go down, and down roads I normally go up. It never fails to amaze me how much of a difference that makes.
Stopped at one red light and found the large gouge in my front tire that likely contributed to my triathlon flat. It looks like a puckering stab wound, but without the blood. It is a kevlar tire, and kind of slow anyway, so I’ll wind up replacing that soon.
Speaking of good rides, this is one of the best finishes of the year, I’m sure. Taylor Phinney is one of my favorite riders:
The other big news is that we dropped Charter. After three years of poor service, shoddy repairs and entirely inept customer service — the kind which somehow managed to cost us money — we’ve moved on to Directv. We’ll miss the TiVos, which I considered the greatest entertainment technology to emerge in a generation, but they’ve been replaced by needlessly complicated user interfaces and more channels and cheaper bills and a signal that, so far, just seems to work.
Tonight we were taking advantage of some of the On Demand features to catch up on Parks and Recreation. There are no large commercial breaks, which is nice, but in between segments they have inserted new The More You Know PSAs. And they aren’t especially good.
Based on these commercials the biggest problems we, as a society face, are password security, retiring teachers and plate size. Also among the things that we should be concerned about are how we are not dancing during commercials, being green on dates and being an actual, you know, an actual parent.
Some of them are just silly.
And another about recycling … handcuffs?
Considering the audience they’re aiming at … why are they aiming that?
Back again tomorrow, as we return to something approaching normal around here once again.
Our Fourth of July tradition involves going to Dreamland, which we visited in Montgomery this evening, enjoying some ribs and pudding and then settling in for an evening of fireworks.
Of course it has rained all day, canceling the fireworks. It has also been the coolest Fourth in memory, which has prompted many remarks, but no complaints. The Yankee wore a sweater for a few pictures today.
Anyway, below is a running collage of wonderful summer memories, reading left to right, top to bottom:
Happy Fourth of July. Hope yours is as good as mine.
They tried to warn those good people. Sadly, those good people would not listen. Two of them never returned.
Kidding. They are fine. Except one of them would later become terribly sea sick.
We boarded a ferry called the Happy Hooker — and, yes, everyone gets the joke — and headed over to Inisheer, the smallest of the three Aran Islands in Galway Bay.
We were ready for more adventures, and enjoyed some smooth sailing:
Not everyone was pleased. There was some sea sickness. Fortunately our group held it together.
We had tea in a pub right off the pier, if for no other reason than to warm up. And then we went out walking. It is only two miles long and a mile-and-change wide. You can walk everywhere. And you’ll see this:
Lots of this. I only wish there were someone around to tell me how much time it took to build a rock wall like this. And where they brought the rocks from. Probably the answer to that one is “Right about where you’re standing.”
Some of the enclosed spaces are holding animals, mostly cattle:
This one mooed …
And that is the first time in her life she’s been next to a cow mooing, so she’s happy.
It is also only the second time she’s heard it. (The first being the other day in Cashel.) No matter where I’ve taken her, no matter the time of day, the cattle we’ve seen have always been full, bored or scared. Her first moo in her entire life.
Historically, this place goes way back. The first settlers of these three islands, according to legend, were the Firbolg, who landed here to escape invaders. There is a burial mound dating back to around 2000 BC and archeological evidence that they perhaps came from, or visited, Scotland. The Firbolg were the people that predated the Gaelic gods, so your mileage may vary.
This is an 11th century church, home to the congregation of the most narrow shouldered people in the world. At one time the islands here were a destination among religious pilgrimages, so this tiny little stone building probably saw a lot of visitors. You can’t go in without turning sideways.
This is Dún Formna, one of seven stone forts on the Aran Islands and the only one on Inisheer. The name means “the fort on top of the hill” and so it is. The person who rain the island sometime after 400 BC is thought to have lived there.
Things have changed, but not everything. Less than 300 people live on the island. Agriculture and tourism are the big economic drivers. This is famed as one of the places where Gaelic is still spoken as a living language. The Irish send their kids over during the summer to learn.
After lunch in the same tavern — if you have the opportunity to order Irish stew, order Irish stew — we got on a different vessel and headed for the Cliffs of Moher.
Some people didn’t care for the waves:
Others didn’t have a problem:
Here’s that rock that juts out into the Atlantic all defiant, and filled with thousands of birds:
The Cliffs … of Insanity!
I got photo-bombed. Good to know that has spread to everywhere:
And on the little spit of land just off of Doolin, as we returned, you see this. It is one of the frustrating things about the trip. There is so much history — and so much of the truly ancient stuff the experts are understandably just guessing at — that things like this can be overlooked. This was a fireplace. Someone tried to keep warm by that during howling winter nights. And then, one day for some reason they stopped. The roof fell or someone died or they got sick of it or there was a job or a woman or … you’ll never know. This sort of thing is quietly sitting everywhere in rural Ireland, overwhelmed thousands of years of history.
I made a little video. It is from our ominous and spooky ride on the ferry up to the cliffs. We wished it had been clear, but the fog gives it a great deal of character, too.
Tonight we are in Galway, a city of about 75,000 people with a bustling tourist and entertainment district downtown, where we walked and ate tonight. It is the third largest city in the country and the first city we’ve seen in a week.
We’d rather be back out in the middle of nowhere.
Tomorrow we’ll catch another ferry and head over to another of the Aran Islands. Should be great fun!
