Saturday, May 17, 2025

"To Walk on a Rainy Day at Essex Meadows"

 While rain has abated, at least for the moment, Spring here in southeastern Connecticut has been abnormally wet, or at least it seems that way. This essay was inspired by one of those rainy mornings.

 

Sydney M. Williams

 

More Essays from Essex

“To Walk on a Rainy Day at Essex Meadows”

May 17, 2025

 

“Be still, sad heart! And cease repining;

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

Thy fate is the common fate of all,

Into each life some rain must fall,

Some days must be dark and dreary.”

                                                                                                                The Rainy Day, 1841

                                                                                                                Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

 

In her 1956 essay, “Help Your Child to Wonder,” Rachel Carson wrote: “A rainy day is the perfect time for a walk in the woods.” Walking through a rain-drenched woods when one is ten may be okay, but now in my mid-80s I prefer to keep my feet dry.

 

Poets have long celebrated the beauty of a rainy day. Langston Hughes in “April Rain Song:” “Let the rain kiss you/Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops;” and Emily Dickinson in “Summer Shower:” “A drop fell on the apple tree/Another on the roof;/A half dozen kissed the eaves/And made the gables laugh.” And who can forget Gene Kelly in Singin’ in the Rain: “What a glorious feeling; I’m happy again;/I’m laughing at clouds so dark above./The sun’s in my heart and I’m ready for love.”

 

I get tempted, but with feet housed in rubbers and a slicker over my shirt I hesitate at the door. I recall walking with my wife – then my girlfriend – in Boston in Spring of ‘62, skipping along Commonwealth Avenue. Nurtured by rain, we were filled with love. 

 

But now I dither. Not all walks in the rain are as glorious as the poets would have us believe. In August 1973, I took my oldest son – then age six – on his first hike in the White Mountains. We left Pinkham Notch in a summer storm. Our goal was Madison Spring Hut. We walked along the Great Gulf Trail to the Madison Gulf Trail. By the time we arrived at the Hut, 6.5 miles later, we were soaked, but happy. The next day, as we hiked the Gulfside Trail to Mt. Washington, the clouds parted and the sun appeared. As we sat looking down into Great Gulf, I remember saying: “Son, someday this will all be yours!” And it has been, in the sense that he and his wife have taken their children on hikes along those same trails.

 

Essex Meadows sits on a hundred acres of lawns, fields, woods and a swamp – the Mud River Swamp, where primordial and avian life abound. As well, the property abuts The Preserve, a thousand acres of conservation land. Trails meander through the fields and woods. They wander across fields and through woods, allowing one to stay healthy while communing with nature. On a sunny day, there are fewer places more beautiful. But when it rains? The final lines of Shel Silverstein’s poem “Rain” come to mind: “So, pardon the crazy thing I just said - /I’m just not the same since there’s rain in my head.”

 

At Essex Meadows we have an alternative. The building, which holds 180 apartments, includes about a mile of hallways on three floors. The hallways, connected with five elevators and nine staircases, are lined with residents’ art collections. When it rains we have the pleasure of viewing paintings and photos, and the joy of meeting friends and neighbors, similarly occupied. So, we walk on and worry not about puddles.

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Sunday, November 3, 2024

"Lighten Up, America"

 Tuesday morning my wife and I will go to the polls at the Essex Town Hall. Afterwards, we will drive to the Griswold Inn, also here in Essex, where my daughter-in-law Beatriz Williams and her two co-authors, Lauren Willig and Karen White, will discuss their latest book, An Author’s Guide to Murder, over lunch. The book is being released that day. The event promises to be good fun – three delightful, smart, articulate and funny ladies, as they take the audience through a rollicking good mystery. Agatha Christie, eat your heart out!

 

On Wednesday we begin a six-day trip to visit two grandchildren in college in Pennsylvania and one in boarding school in Virginia, so your e-mail in-box will be free of my offerings, at least for a few days.

 

God speed, and may your candidate win…though I hope mine does!

 

Sydney M. Williams

www.swtotd.blogspot.com

 

Thought of the Day

“Lighten Up, America”

November 3, 2024

 

“Like a welcome summer rain, humor may

suddenly cleanse and cool the earth, the air and you.”

                                                                                                                The Book of Negro Humor, 1966

                                                                                                                Langston Hughes (1901-1967)

 

While Kamala Harris began her campaign with a promise of joy, it soon deteriorated into character smears against her opponent, with Ms. Harris calling him “fascist” and a “Hitler,” and with President Biden referring to Mr. Trump’s supporters as “garbage.” What makes the “fascist” label ironic is that, as Victor Davis Hanson wrote in last Thursday’s issue of American Greatness, “…he [Trump] has been the target of fascists machinations from her own party and supporters for nearly a decade.”

 

Mr. Trump has always appeared devoid of humor, except when polls swing his way. Writing in the current UK issue of The Spectator, Kate Andrews noted “…in the past few weeks, something has restored Trump’s humor.” As the audience left a recent rally in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, she quoted a man speaking to his family: “That was better than Netflix.”  Most of us smiled when Mr. Trump, wearing an orange reflector vest (and in response to Mr. Biden’s remark), jumped into a garbage truck in Green Bay, Wisconsin. Nevertheless, Mr. Trump does have a habit of calling his opponents names that would make Gordon Gekko blush. Amidst this war of words, America seems an unhappy place. Last Thursday, The Washington Post editorialized: “…in an increasingly angry nation…incidents of road rage escalate across the country.”  As in 1888 Mudville, there is little joy in the U.S. today.

 

We have, as J.D. Vance recently reminded us, become overly sensitive, unable to distinguish between a comedian’s attempts at humor and the mean-spiritedness of a politician. Nevertheless, as a society, we (if not our politicians) have also become more sensitive to the feelings of others, a good thing. For generations, tasteless ethnic, racial, religious and sexual jokes were common. Perhaps because of that we were told that words could not hurt us. However today, we are told they can. Students and employees are warned against using “harmful” words. One consequence: we may become less of a melting pot than in those pre-and-post-World War II years – that our differences, not our similarities might define us. When my wife grew up in New York City, Little Italy, Chinatown, Germantown and Spanish Harlem were distinct places. While new enclaves have developed with new immigrants, those old boundaries can now be found only in history books. Immigrants of yesteryear, whether from Scandinavia, Eastern Europe, Puerto Rico, or Asia, found it more comfortable, initially, to live in neighborhoods with people who spoke their language and understood their customs. Many new immigrants do so today. As time went by, those earlier immigrants added to the quilt that is the American people, and they became indistinct from their neighbors. Let us hope that today’s politics aimed at dividing us will not prevent the natural forces that unify us. Integration into our nation’s culture is evolutionary, not revolutionary.

 

It is important to remember that the build-out of a diversified population over the past half century happened despite an array of tasteless ethnic, religious and racial jokes. Those jokes – common forty-fifty-and-sixty-years ago – did not hinder the intermarriage of immigrants’ children and grandchildren. The Census Bureau reports that White-Hispanic marriages, White-Asian and White-Black marriages have soared over the past few decades. In 2022, 19% of newlyweds in the United States were married to someone of a different race or ethnicity, versus 3% in 1967. Will political correctness, which has led to the compartmentalization of people, cause that trend to slow or reverse? I don’t know. I am not advocating we revert to telling ethnic jokes. What I am saying is that, accompanied by self-deprecation, that form of humor did no lasting damage.

 

Campaigns, politics and governing are serious endeavors. But perspective is wanted. As the late, legendary ballerina Margot Fonteyn once said: “The one important thing I have learned over the years is the difference between taking one’s work seriously and taking one’s self seriously. The first is imperative and the second is disastrous.” In dividing people into groups – ethnic, religious, racial, gender – progressive politicians have focused on our differences rather than our similarities. The poking of fun is no longer allowed. This fear of offending others has ushered in a culture of avoidance, for fear of affronting – widening already existing gaps between political parties, and gender and ethnic groups.

 

In the Essays of Michel Montaigne, the 16th Century French philosopher wrote: “The highest wisdom is continual cheerfulness; such a state, like the region above the moon, is always clear and serene.” Humor prevents us from taking ourselves too seriously. It helps us find the balance between being sensitive to the needs and wants of others, while being honest about ours, and others, strengths and weaknesses. When the going gets tough, humor greases the skids. Mark Twain is alleged to have once said: “Humor is the great thing, the saving thing after all. The minute it crops up, all our hardnesses yield, all our irritations and resentments flit away, and a sunny spirit takes their place.” 

 

We live in serious – some might say perilous – times. Nevertheless, laughter has long been an antidote to dreariness. In his 1851 novel Moby-Dick, Herman Melville wrote: “However, a good laugh is a mighty good thing, and rather too scarce a good thing; the more’s the pity.” It is not mindless ‘joy’ we seek, but respectful and good-humored toleration of our differences, be they racial, gender or political. Ella Wheeler Wilcox’s opening stanza to her 1883 poem, as printed in The New York Sun, lends pertinence:  

 

“Laugh, and the world laughs with you;

Weep and you weep alone:

For the sad old world must borrow its mirth,

But has trouble enough of its own.”

 

…………………………………………………………………………..

 

In two days the tension of the election will be behind us. Half the country will be happy; the other half disappointed, but we will survive. Results of elections are never as good as winners would have us believe, nor as bad as losers claim. My recommendation is to pick up a Wodehouse. Sink back into Edwardian England where the sun always shone, birds flew overhead, bees buzzed about, and Uncle Fred could be found flitting along a garden path, spreading “sweetness and light.” Whether or not your choice for President was successful, a smile will crease your face.

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Sunday, April 16, 2023

"Humor - Where Has It Gone?"

 Yesterday, London’s The Telegraph, among the English-speaking world’s better newspapers, reported that Penguin, in re-issuing some of P.G. Wodehouse’s Jeeves and Wooster stories, are removing prose that sensitivity readers deem unacceptable. Since, in the first paragraph of the attached essay, I quote Bertie Wooster perhaps this piece should carry a trigger warning. But it won’t, as I assume you are all adults.

 

Sydney M. Williams

www.swtotd.blogspot.com

 

Thought of the Day

“Humor – Where Has It Gone?”

April 16, 2023

 

“Humor is your own unconscious therapy. Like a welcome summer

rain, humor may suddenly cleanse and cool the earth, the air and you.”

                                                                                                                                Langston Hughes (1901-1967)

                                                                                                                                American poet, playwright, novelist

                                                                                                                                The Book of Negro Humor, 1967

 

There is a sentence in P.G. Wodehouse’s The Inimitable Jeeves, in which Bertie Wooster speaks to Jeeves, that reminds me of today’s listening-challenged politicians and pundits: “On the occasion when Aunt is calling Aunt like mastodons bellowing across the primaeval swamp…the clan has a tendency to ignore me.” Like Wodehouse’s Aunt Agatha, today’s politicians bellow and do not listen; so, concerns, if they are not of the woke variety, are ignored. 

 

What have we become? Today’s transgender movement, with a biological male winning ‘woman of the year’ and with trans women athletes competing against biological females, is like watching a 1950s Hasty Pudding show. John Kerry and his crowd, in preaching of an impending climate apocalypse, remind us of a mythological Zeus hurling lightning bolts from atop Mount Olympus. Diversity, equity, and inclusion pronouncements could have been taken from Mad Magazine. Separate and segregated college graduation ceremonies are reminiscent of Jim Crow days: Dean Karayanis of The New York Sun recently wrote “that three dozen institutions from Yale to Ohio State are returning us to the days when ‘mixing the races’ was a secular sin, implementing policies that would make the most avowed Confederate grin.” Race and gender outrank merit in college selection and corporate advancement. Minorities, women, and the LBGTQ communities are told they are victims, and that they cannot rise above that appellation. 

 

Political arrests and prosecutions remind us of Stalin’s Lavrentiy Beria: “Show me the man, and I will show you the crime.” Mass shootings elicit the expected response from the usual suspects: a Second Amendment defense from the right and more regulated sales of guns from the left. Ignored are the estimated 450 million guns already out there, many of them illegally acquired; gun safety rules, which in my youth came with the ownership of a firearm, are never mentioned by elected officials, and neither is the disturbing emotional behavior of most shooters as a possible cause. Declining birthrates will bring future demographic challenges, as the work force shrinks and the ranks of retirees expand. But progressives are focused on the right to abortion, at any time and any place. School choice is “fine for me but not for thee.” Families have disappeared into the maws of politicized governmental ‘communities,’ which encourage a lack of individual responsibility and accountability and that discourage the dignity of work and the benefits of personal independence. Future generations will wonder at today’s absurdities when preferred progressives’ ends were used to justify regressive means. In this overly sensitive world, there is no laughter. 

 

Is there not absurdity in the idiocy of releasing criminals into poverty-stricken inner cities and then complain about an increase in crime? Do we help the nation’s most impoverished when we deny them choice in education and when we open the border to increased demand for welfare assistance? Where are the leaders who could offer perspective? Humor served Lincoln during the dark days of the Civil War. Franklin Roosevelt reassured the American people through fireside chats during the Depression, and he reminded them of their commitment, as citizens, to personal honor and national service during the Second World War. Forty years later, Reagan used humor, as the country emerged from a decade of antiwar demonstrations, a prolonged recession, and crippling inflation.

 

Victory in the Cold War brought an end to the USSR, which as an enemy had united both sides of the political aisle. Now “the enemy,” as Walt Kelly once wrote in a different context, “was us.” Polarization, which began in the Clinton years, added fuel during George W. Bush’s tenure (with about a one-year hiatus following 9/11), gained steam under Obama’s time, got out of control during Trump’s four-years, and has derailed under Biden. Under all five Presidents, humor dissipated while anger intensified. 

 

There was a time when the media was trusted to offer a balanced view. We remember William Shrirer, Edward R. Murrow, Lowell Thomas, and Walter Cronkite. They spoke to all America, and we trusted them to provide a balanced offering of the news, which for the most part they did. On January 16, 1787, Thomas Jefferson, then in Paris, wrote Edward Carrington of Virginia that, since America’s new government is based “on the opinions of the people,” that if he had “to choose between a government without newspapers or newspapers without government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter.”  Today’s press is a far cry from Jefferson’s ideals or from the news we were offered seventy years ago, which allowed individuals to form their own opinions. Today’s news is presented in soundbites and thrives on exaggeration. Some wag recently wrote that if a conservative pundit has not been called a fascist it means she or he is not effective. And if a progressive is not called a socialist, it means he or she is failing at their job. It is unsurprising that Tucker Carlson and Rachel Maddow have some of the highest-ranked TV news shows because both substitute opinions for news. Neither one smiles and both exude self-righteousness. In the early 20thCentury, Oscar Wilde, in a Critic in Pall Mall, wrote: “It is a curious fact that people are never so trivial as when they take themselves seriously.” How pertinent are his words today.  

 

When radicals dominate both ends of the political spectrum, it is hard to smile. As America grew wealthy, left-wing politicians, to stay relevant, focused on racial and gender inequities. They united their followers behind veils of extremism, as they divided the rest of us by age, race, gender, and ethnicity. They became intolerant of ideas that did not conform to theirs’. Yet there are a few who see humor’s value. Senator John Neely Kennedy (R-LA) is one who effectively uses it. Still, there is concern; Representative Dan Crenshaw (R-TX), who lost one eye in Afghanistan and suffered a detached retina in the other, wrote in Fortitude: American Resilience in the Era of Outrage: “I fear we are losing this ability to laugh off the small stuff, and we are even closer to losing the ability to laugh at the big stuff…Comedians are worried they’ll offend an overly sensitive generation of students looking for any reason to be offended. This is deeply unfortunate…”

 

For this octogenarian, this lack of humor is sad. Still, it is fun to watch politicians wriggle out from uncomfortable positions, a talent necessary for political success. A hundred years ago, Ambrose Bierce amusingly defined the word politician in his The Devil’s Dictionary: “politician, n. An eel in the fundamental mud upon which the superstructure of organized society is reared. When he wriggles, he mistakes the agitation of his tail for the trembling of the edifice.” Today’s politicians have also mastered the art of saying nothing in a thirty-minute speech. But, sorrowfully, it is rare to witness the self-deprecating humor used so effectively by Lincoln and Reagan, to deflect criticism, and to put a smile on the face of listeners. Not only did it cause their opponents to laugh, it lightened the nation’s mood.

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