Yesterday, Marvel Studios premiered a new streaming series on a fascinating character. I don’t plan to watch it. With Echo, Marvel has bowed to the inescapable dogma of HBO that a series must splatter blood or rip off clothes to be prestigious. Why would one of the most successful franchises in history shed the family-friendly tact that made it stand out in the explicit modern media landscape?
True, it’s a little late to be talking about Christmas shopping, but throughout the year we need to give gifts from time to time, often to young people, so I don’t think it’s a waste of time to discuss presents a little even at this late date.
It is as familiar a phrase as any in American English, usually remembered in the smooth baritone of Nat “King” Cole: “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire . . .” The song was written by Robert Wells and Mel Tormé in 1945. (The first line made more sense then.) It is secular, as Christmas songs go — both Wells and Tormé were Jewish — but it acknowledged that yes, this is a religious holiday.
The conversation with my friend Angelo was satisfying and thought-provoking, as they always are. We had been talking about how men, when they grow up (chronologically) and have money, are wont to buy the things they desired but didn’t get when they were little boys.
Today I was looking for a photo from the end of last year and inadvertently stumbled on one of my uncle from then. My Uncle Jay went on hospice a few weeks ago amid a sharp decline. The difference of a year was shouted from that picture.
We’re not-so-slowly being overrun by invasive animal and plant species, and it’s costing money. Costing me money in particular. And like so many terrible things for which no one can be held personally accountable, in many cases the government is to blame.
My feed on X has filled with posts from officials of Ukraine, Romania and the Netherlands touting the opening of the European F-16 Training Center in Romania. Highlighting this was a video of Ukrainian pilots showing off their newly acquired skills in piloting said aircraft. The word “resolve” comes to mind given that I can write that sentence at all — for a long time, the West refused the beleaguered nation access to advanced jets. “Resolve” also speaks to the dangerous test ahead hinted at in that hesitancy.
Do you like movie westerns? It is conceivable, I suppose, that you don’t. If you don’t, it is probably because you have a mistaken impression of them, and I encourage you to reconsider.
The idea hit me in early 1977, during of all things a pistol match. And the ratio that first came to mind that weekend morning still seems about right. It is a rule — okay, a “guideline” as we now like to say — that explains and to a limited extent influences much of our daily lives. That morning I named it the 20 percent rule. In the — Lord help me — nearly 50 years since that day it has held up pretty well.
Next Tuesday is Halloween, though holidays are now moved all over the place. No doubt plans are underway to desecrate Christmas, New Year, and Thanksgiving, but moving Halloween all over the place is especially inconvenient, in that it involves strangers coming to our homes, so we must be there, and if it’s spread out over many days . . . well, you can see. Or will.