Memoir Archives – THE PAGE TURNS

January 13, 2025January 17, 2025

Old Beginnings

Woman Reclining at Desk Next to Typewriter @1900, image from © CORBIS

It’s January. It’s time to take stock of ourselves. Make resolutions. Change habits. Sweep out the old. Set some goals.

This is a New Year, but also a repeat of another year. Our universe moves forward, but circles around at the same time. We follow cycles that are as old the understanding of time itself. There are patterns that repeat, which we can see and use to fuel our hope.

There is always possibility.

Ancient planisphere, i.e. map of the cycle of the heavens, with cuneiform, from africame.

Ancient Cycles

The celebration of a new year likely began as soon as people realized that there was such a thing as a year. One of the first big things people noticed must have been the sun and its movements, noticed that this giant flame that provided light did so in a slightly different way every day. There are 37,000 year old cave paintings that show the sun and the moon, using the cave walls a kind of “paleo-almanac.”

Last night, the moon set in the west, pouring light through my bathroom window when I got up. It does that every so often, doesn’t it?

The earliest civilizations in Mesopotamia–the Sumerians, the Babylonians, the Egyptians–all had ways of counting time and all celebrated the new year. The Egyptians celebrated the flooding of the Nile, which happened in the middle of our calendar year, so their New Year was near the summer solstice. They called it Wepet Renpet, the “Opening of the Year.” As part of the coming year, they held feasts, exchanged gifts, and honored their gods.

December 2, 2024December 4, 2024

Mom’s China

“I can’t find the rest of these crystal glasses,” KK says, lying on the kitchen floor, one arm buried deep in a cabinet. There are rattling noises, and she keeps shining her phone’s flashlight deep into the Underworld of our kitchenware. “This is all the Rosenthal stuff.”

Two pieces of the remaining Rosenthal set. All photos by kajmeister, exc. Wedgwood medallion.

My mom received a set of Rosenthal china as a wedding present. When she died in 1997, I ended up with it. Most of it I stored, but I kept a platter out among our other fancy buffet dishes. A few holidays ago, when it was pulled out for use, the platter cracked neatly in half, which has made me loathe to use any other pieces.

As we were making Thanksgiving turkey and trimmings this year, pulling out the special bowl to mix stuffing and another bowl to sport cranberries, I realized that there’s a big gap between what I would use for a dinner party and what my mom would use. Not that strange these days, of course, my kids would say, “dinner party, WTF?” But the idea of hauling out a single set of matching delicate dishes for a meal seems bizarre, even on a special holiday with people you care about.

There is a history for things like Rosenthal china, a company history and a personal history. These things intersect and create waves of overlapping interference, like in a pond. This may explain why we have such a patchwork quilt of dishes when we serve dinner, all of which are precious.

October 17, 2024October 18, 2024

The Revolution Will Be Televised and (Saturday Night) Live

Movie poster from Saturday Night, by Sony pictures.

In October of 1975, most of the popular shows on television looked backward. The country was emerging from the chaos of the Vietnam War, the fall of the Nixon administration, economic misery, and civil rights protests. It should not be a surprise that the most watched shows were things like Laverne and Shirley, Happy Days, and the Waltons — misty-eyed nostalgia for the fun of the malt shop, the slapstick antics of the gals at the bottling plant, and the family bliss of the good ol’ Depression days. There were some controversial shows as well. A few groundbreaking comedies–All in the Family, MASH, Maude, and Mary Tyler Moore–all pushed the envelope in different ways. But more shows yearned for simpler times.

This was the environment in which Lorne Michaels pitched the idea of Saturday Night Live to NBC executives. The movie Saturday Night describes those precarious ninety minutes before the show first went on the air, when maybe it still might not have made it to the air. It’s a suspense-filled narrative, as Michaels (Gabriel Labelle) struggles with technical problems, network pressures, friction among the cast, too much content, and an impending sense of doom. If you’re under forty, you’ll find the behind-the-scenes narrative fascinating and wonder how the chuckleheads ever got this thing in front of the American public. But if you’re old enough to remember the times, you’ll find it holds a mirror up to what those times were really like. Some of the reviews which have criticized the movie as too mild were clearly written by those who don’t remember. I do.