Christmas is ....

The link between handguns & whatever

A Sig Sauer 220R5 Legion-SAO in 10 mm caliber

Incidentally, welcome to the final month of 2021

Pretty ordinary looking handgun for a price tag of fourteen or fifteen or sixteen hundred dollars.

Right?

Is it worth that kind of money?

Time will tell, I suppose.

It is a Sig Sauer 220R5 Legion-SAO semi-automatic pistol in 10 mm caliber. It arrived Saturday to keep company with the Sig Sauer 716i semi-automatic rifle in .308 / 7.62 mm caliber which made its appearance here a few weeks ago. One sig deserves another, someone once told me, and I took it literally.

You might recall that the rifle is the first AR type I have owned. The pistol is in sort of the same category. Like many, I am an aficionado of the John Browning's Model 1911 in .45 caliber, but I have wanted a 10 mm for a few years and decided the time of wanting and waiting must come to an end.

For most practical purposes, this Sig is a 1911 in disguise since it very much looks like and has the feel of and functions in a similar fashion to a 1911.

Returning to the economics of this "masterpiece," there is an oft-repeated question about the worth of a particular thing in terms of coin of the realm .... a particular vehicle; a particular painting; a particular piece of property? My usual answer is to the effect that the worth of something is whatever someone will pay for it.

More specifically, most people, if they were to hold this particular handgun and examine it closely, probably would fall into one of three camps: Those unfamiliar with pistols and think $1500 was a typical price; those unfamiliar with guns who would be flabbergasted at the amount of money; those familiar with firearms who would "fondle" it while thoroughly inspecting it and after a few minutes say it is worth every cent of $1500 -- especially when compared to other guns on the market.

For those among you who object to firearms, you can reasonably assume this will be my last entry about one for a long/long/long while ....

As for the music accompanying this post, there may not be something for everyone, which never is the intent, rather, the idea is to make suggestions from "stuff" I enjoy and which usually has a link, obvious or subtle, to the words and the illustration ....

So, what is the link between handguns and whatever? Me, of course .... carry on, baby ....

Thankful on Thanksgiving

Frederick McCubbin was among the founding members of the Heidelberg School, an art movement related to Australian Impressionism. This particular work titled "The Pioneer" is oil on canvas, was done in 1904 and is displayed at the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne. McCubbin's life spanned the years 1855 through 1917. That he and other "artists" in myriad fields lived and produced their work for me to enjoy is one of the things for which I am grateful.

Be happy .... be obliged ....

This post began with reading a Thanksgiving article in last Sunday's edition of the Saint Paul Pioneer Press under the headline, "What first-graders are thankful for in 2021." Mostly, the kids "seem to appreciate people who spend time with them."

Me, too ....

The most-used words from the kids were, in descending order: "family, mom, love, friends, God, dad, school, play and food."

With a few modifications, those could be on my list, too. So, I asked myself, what am I thankful for in 2021?

My own "dumb luck" probably envelopes my appreciation of my existence in the sense of thankfulness: For being born into the family I was; in the country, region and town I was; at the time in a historical context I was. On a scale of having had a "charmed life," I would give mine a "B" or a seven.

On my blog, I frequently refer to myself as Fram the Fortunate and use "Old Norse" references such as "gold-luck" and "woman-luck" and "health-luck" and "weather-luck" to describe the road I have walked. I have had two terrific wives and have three cool kids. There is nothing more beautiful than a blue sky with billowy clouds and nothing more wonderful than a nap in a meadow on a sunny, breezy afternoon.

Although I am a devotee of "Bitter (Ambrose) Bierce" and skeptical about many things, I am essentially glad to be alive and to experience so much of life and living. What else is there to do with life other than to appreciate / to study / to learn from it?

Returning to art and artists, my thankfulness comes in the form of being able to enjoy the paintings of individuals like Monet and Vasnetsov and Caravaggio / sculpture by Michelangelo and Rodin / books from Homer and Hemingway and Durant / music by Bach and Mercury .... well, you get my drift .... be happy .... be thankful, baby ....

Semper Fidelis, to the end of time

Two Marines with carbine rifles slung over their shoulders stand beneath an American flag flying atop Mount Suribachi on the Pacific Ocean island of Iwo Jima in the Ogasawara Archipelago. They are watching the cloud of smoke and dust as the World War II battle rages on in the distance. Varying sources give varying figures for casualties, but it is accepted that nearly 21,000 Japanese defenders were killed in the fight which lasted from February 19 to March 25, 1945. American casualties were about 6,800 dead and more than 19,000 wounded, mostly Marines. A variety of naval vessels and landing craft are visible on the right along the shoreline.

It's a good place to be from ....

Driver training class seemed to be moving slower than slow one summer morning as we pulled into the parking lot at the high school. A young man walked up to car and asked the high school principal, who was giving the class, if he could get his records so he could enroll in college. The principal went to retrieve the records and I started talking to the young man. I knew he had just been discharged from the 82nd Airborne, where his older brother remained on active duty.

"Did you like the army?" I asked, a curious 14-year-old boy plotting my own future.

"It's a good place to be from," replied the young man.

His answer puzzled me then, but now I understand it. When someone asks me if I liked the Marine Corps, I usually provide the same answer: "It's a good place to be from."

In terms of myself, I never have been able to think a more concise and accurate response. I also never have been able to adequately explain why I went into the USMC beyond the stock cliché: "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Part of my entry, I am sure, came from reading about the Marine Corps and seeing films about it and having known veterans from all branches of the armed forces and hearing their remarks about their military lives. Beyond those things, I am hesitant to search deeper within myself.

Today is the 246th birthday of the United States Marine Corps and, in the spirit of the Corps, I wish happy birthday and salute all Marines -- those among the dead, those who still live, those yet to be born: Semper Fidelis, to the end of time ....

A moment frozen securely in time ....

There is a neatly handwritten, personal message in Swedish on the back of the 1911 post card sent by "Nels" to "Mrs. S. Sjosttrom" in Marcus, Iowa. A photographic duplication of the message is shown here, in hopes someone will take a run at translating it.

Walking along the street & reading the message

(Part 2 of two segments)

The post card is dated February 9, 1911, so the photograph could be no later than then. Although some of the houses have changed in appearance over the decades, many still exist and still are recognizable. 

The street lights are gone, however. They were replaced around 1950 by obnoxious apparitions which are considerably higher with more powerful lights near the tops overhanging the street. Safety and economy were judged more important than beauty and gentility. They probably are, but some of us are occasional risk-takers and will walk to the edge of the precipice to tempt fate and it is not uncommon for a few people to sometimes place a greater value on the old over the new.

Looking at this photograph is like looking back in time -- glancing into the history of the town I traveled from infancy to "almost" manhood. I visualize myself walking on this sidewalk -- both in the context of observing myself and of seeing the sights as though I am experiencing it at this very moment.

Then, I think of the generations who came before me and who walked there and drove carriages and wagons there, some of them my ancestors and those of my own young friends. Mind boggling ....

The note on the post card is written in Swedish and was sent by Nels to Mrs. S. Sjosttrom in Marcus, Iowa. This is what is says:

"Alskade Mor, Jag härmed sänder mors två  bj öoker. Jag har fått et par bref från Ernest som säg in datt mor var icke frisk meu jag hojapas mor blix stnox frisk igen. Jag hade tänks att kommma hem ingefär vid denna tiden men det slog fel. Jag fick icke apotekare men skoll för såka få han imgam varen Här är hoppen vch my kin annan sjvkdomy."

I am reasonably certain neither Nels nor Mrs. Sjostrom would mind me sharing it with you 110 years after it was written. In fact, you might wish to translate it. If you do, I hope you will share it with me so "we" can compare notes on our translations. 

I am not certain my copying of the text is completely accurate or how many dialects of Swedish might exist which could affect local usage, but this is best I could do. I purposely am not including my translation here so others will not be influenced by it.

There are times when, it seems to me, it is a pity (possibly a tragedy) not all keep history alive in their minds and understand the intrinsic value it has for us in our lives. Because we do not do this, we are "condemned" to repeat our mistakes over and over as seemingly has been our fate since forever -- or for a few hundred thousand years .... at least ....

But, perhaps, the challenge and the reason for life is to continue the struggle to transcend our fatal flaws .... whoops .... pardon me, while I catch a few minutes of football ....

A moment like no other ....

There once was a moment like no other. It took place when a photographer's finger released the shutter of his camera and captured this near-wintery sight more than a hundred years ago. In reality, every moment is like no other in that change never ceases motion. This could be a street in any of thousands of small towns in the United States or elsewhere, but it is where what once was my town.

Walking in the footsteps of history ....

(Part 1 of two segments)

What you are seeing is an old post card, wintery view of West Front Street in the southwestern Minnesota town in which I spent the first 18 years of my life. I walked this street many times as a boy and a teenager. There would be a .22 caliber Mossberg Model 142-A with a scope or a Winchester Model 77 rifle occasionally over my shoulder or, in the autumn, a .16 gauge Stevens Model 77-AC shotgun, as I made my way from my home to where the town ended and the countryside began.

Such was the "relaxed attitude" toward 10-11-12-year-old boys with guns during my childhood and years as a young man. Most men and boys who lived there hunted and everyone knew both boys and girls took a "hunter safety course" with certified instructors before legally being allowed to hunt.

Sometimes the guns were cased; other times they were not. Never were they loaded. That part of the ritual came after the last house on the edge of town had been passed and could only be seen by looking back over the shoulder.

Guns and hunting were part of our culture.

The photograph, to me, appears to have been taken on an October or a November day, recalling the frosty mornings with dustings of snow when I walked the same sidewalk on my way to the lake to intercept ducks and geese on their southward pilgrimage.

When hunting, the morning walk would be well before sunrise so I could be on the other side of the lake perched on a small island where I could see the sun rising over 75-foot cliffs across a half-mile of open water. There were lights on in some houses at times as early risers prepared for a day of work.

The walk in the afternoon came with sunset only minutes away and meant running and racing in hopes of catching a shot at a late flight of ducks coming in from feasting in farm fields to "bed down" on the lake. Crops were not picked to the last kernel of corn then as they are now, in this "modern era" of agriculture.

Thus, endeth the parable for the first day of November 2021 ....

(Part 2 of two segments will appear in a few days)

The link between rifles & vending machines

A Sig Sauer 716i in .308 caliber

Lock and load .... ready on the firing line ....

I am on record saying I would never own an AR-type rifle.

Among other things, they have no class; no beauty; no sex appeal.

Behold, a Sig Sauer 716i in .308 caliber crowned with an after-market, red dot, Vortex sight acquired on my jaunt to Dakota. The third guy in the "band of loosely-connected characters" who gathered for the "Great Dakota Shoot Out" had purchased four, shiny-new AR rifles in about a three-week period. The most expensive in the batch is a Fabrique Nationale (FN) SCAR which cost him $3,499.99 straight from the factory. Yep, really. The others were in the $1,500 range.

He can afford them. He inherited a vending machine business which his father had established over the course of many/many years. The secret to wealth? Maybe, be a doctor; maybe, be a lawyer; for sure, operate vending machine concessions in colleges, hospitals, factories established and bought and paid for by a parent.

Yep, he can afford them, but he was a bit embarrassed by so many purchases in such a short period of time that he decided to cut this one loose for $1,100.

Anyway, my son (the instigator) and I (the guy with the checkbook) went halves on this hummer.

We both get to shoot it; he gets hang on to it, but has to clean it and keep it spotless ....

Now, because I said I never would have an AR-type I am left wondering if, since I only do own half of one, am I a liar or a half-liar or a what ....

Neither here nor there material .... 

For those reading this who are unfamiliar with the .308 cartridge, it also is known as the 7.62 millimeter as fired in the M-14 rifle, which for a few years was the standard rifle of the United States military. It succumbed to the AR-15 / M-16 in .223 caliber, which translates to 5.56 millimeter. One reason (probably the primary reason) the M-14 was dumped was because American troops had trouble handling the recoil of the .308, whose ballistics are similar to a .30-06. The .30-06 was the primary round used in our military rifles during World Wars I and II and in Korea.

For the record (it seems like I say that with a degree of frequency), I have no trouble handling either the .308 or the .30-06 and suspect another of my reasons for disliking the AR-types was because of the .223 caliber. I also suspect one of the reasons I gave in on (partially) owning an AR is its present availability in several calibers, including the .308 / 7.62.

What is the purpose of the .308 / .30-06 / .223 data mentioned here? I have no idea what to say other than to blame my fingers for not wanting to stop typing.

I just came inside from looking at the "Hunter's Moon." It is spectacular .... it is beautiful .... enjoy it ....

By the way, one of the videos here is a new, pre-release version of "7 And 7 Is" by Deep Purple .... and, yes, it really is Deep Purple, at least current members of the band as they now exist .... ancient codgers that they are. The other video is Queen performing "I'm in Love with My Car," with song composer Roger Taylor doing the vocals. This song harkens back to my double Mustang GT 5.0 era .... oooouuuu, sweeeeeet ....

Many here among us wonder if life is but a joke

Bob Dylan               Jimi Hendrix                 Howie GSo let us not talk falsely, the hour is late ....

"Remembering the past and imagining the future are hallmarks of mental time travel. We provide evidence that such experiences are influenced by individual differences in temporal and affective biases in cognitive style, particularly brooding rumination (a negative past-oriented bias) and optimism (a positive future-oriented bias)."

No, I did not write those words. They came from a 2018 psychological research report about a study of individual differences in mental time travel and in regard to the past and the future in daily life. I stumbled onto the report while trying to learn if there is a clinical definition/explanation for someone's mind bouncing randomly all over the map of their memories of their life experiences. I quickly read the report and then stumbled right back out of it.

I never did learn if there is a clinical definition/explanation for "it," so I turned instead to recollection of some of the concerts I have heard and a few of the songs which especially appeal to me.

Bobby Dylan wrote "All Along the Watchtower" and Jimi Hendrix made it famous. How many people have recorded it is anyone's guess. I have listened to numerous renditions and the one I believe, without question, is the best is the piece performed here by Howard Jarrett. He is a guitarist and singer/songwriter working out of Cheshire in the United Kingdom.

Known professionally as Howie G, this version was recorded while he was a member of The Classic Rock Show. He can do magic with a guitar, he is a gifted singer and -- best of all -- he enunciates the lyrics clearly and distinctly and understandably, eliminating any necessity for interpretation or for asking:

"What did he just say?"

By the way, I continue to be curious to learn "if there is a clinical definition/explanation for someone's mind bouncing randomly all over the map of their memories of their life experiences."

Any assistance will be greatly appreciated .... one of my daughters thinks my curiousity about this is because I am sort of "goofy" and the other daughter approves because she thinks it is healthy. "You literally are searching for answers to your questions about life and living instead of simply watching what passes for news on the 'idiot tube,'" she says with a sly smile, "which is healthy for you."

Hmmmm ....

Once more, before the snow ....

Autumn signaled football and hunting when I was a boy, and those things will be part of me forever. The fact that I no longer play football or hunt does not mean I do not enjoy watching football or firing firearms. Quite the contrary, but both are best done before frigid blizzards have made their appearance and my son and I and a friend are planning to shoot/shoot/shoot one more time before winter arrives and takes much of the fun out of it.

Each of us brings two handguns so we all will fire 48 rounds from each of six guns at motion and stationary targets. My contribution to the "Great Dakota Shoot Out" will be the two Glocks shown here. The smaller one is a Model 30S in .45 caliber with a 3.875-inch barrel and an after-market tactical light attached; the larger one is a Model 24 in .40 caliber with a 6.02-inch barrel and an after-market tactical light, as well as a laser sight attached. The "tiny" handgun is a Baby Browning in .25 caliber, which is not part of the competition, unless in the unlikely event it is necessary to break a tie.

"I can't tell you but it lasts forever"

A few days ago, I wrote these words in a comment: "I won a few editorial writing contests by not being hesitant to dive headfirst into controversial topics and managed to ignore threats and offers of money and sex regarding certain stances. I had a guy "sucker punch" me on one occasion, and all he got in response as he turned and literally ran away was a grinning smirk. Hmmmm .... how much audacity is too much audacity ...."

My point being I assume with a high degree of certainty the photograph and the post will upset the sensibilities of a few folks. Anyone who stops by here with a degree of regularity will already know that firearms have been a major part of my life since I was a boy and if he, she or it cannot live with that fact, it is their problem, not mine.

These guns are legally owned and used for legal purposes, which includes target shooting and self-protection. Once upon a time, I was an avid hunter, but have not hunted for a number of years and actually no longer approve of it. Does this mean I am anti-hunting? Sort of .... Does this mean I am an anti-hunter? No, it does not .... My own experience gives me the ability to understand those who hunt and why they hunt, and this is an instance where understanding breeds acceptance.

Do I believe the world would be a better place without firearms? It probably would be, but, in a general sense, guns often are the last resort for the small and the weak among us to protect themselves from the bad and the brutal and the bully types.

Each of us lives in our own world, our own space, and my position largely is treat others as you wish to be treated. In other words, we all are different and, looking through the lens of time, in all probability always will be .... so, our only alternative for long-term survival is to learn to accept others of all colors, religions, politics and personal interests .... and, to get along.

Thus, endeth the sermon for the first day of October 2021 ....

"We could be heroes, just for one day ...."

Spelling quiz ....

How do you spell heroes?

United States military, as in closing down shop in Afghanistan ....

How do you spell dumb ass?

Joseph Robinette Biden Jr., as in closing down shop in Afghanistan ....

The "birth" of modern archaeology ....

Found in Tomb V in Mycenae by German archaeologist Heinrich Schliemann in 1876, he named this gold sheet, death-mask the "Mask of Agamemnon," believing he had found the body of the Mycenaean king Agamemnon, leader of the Achaeans in "The Iliad," Homer's epic poem of the Trojan War. Modern research indicates the mask dates to about 1600 BCE, pre-dating the period of the Trojan War by about 400 years. The mask is on display in the National Archaeological Museum of Athens. 

And, perhaps most importantly in a personal sense, welcome to the first day of autumn 2021 -- may it be one of picture-perfect memories for you ....

The truth of Homer's "Iliad"

Since mentioning it in a post long/long ago (September 11, which probably is long/long ago to some people), I have been perusing Kurt Wilhelm Marek's book, "Gods, Graves and Scholars," which is to say an archaeological "masterpiece" from C. W. Ceram. Marek was a German journalist and writer and student of archaeology who used the pseudonym Ceram when publishing most of his books.

(Does anyone besides me think "perusing" is a weird word? I suppose it depends upon the context in which the word is used ....)

"Gods/Graves” covers Greek, Egyptian, Mesopotamian archaeology and that in other regions, as well, including the Americas. It also offers biographical material about several notable figures in the field.

Using Homer's books "The Odyssey" and "The Iliad" and the writings of other "ancients," a German millionaire merchant, Heinrich Schliemann, excavated Hisarlık, "Place of Fortresses," often spelled Hissarlik, in modern Turkey beginning in 1870. He believed it to be the Troy of Priam and Paris and Helen and Hector and Achilles and Odysseus. He found nine cities stacked one atop another and concluded the Trojan War Troy was either the second or third level city. Level VIIa, first suggested by Minnesota native, archaeologist Carl Blegen, is now considered the actual Troy of 1200 BCE.

As an aside, one of Blegen's younger brothers, Theodore, was a noted historian/author/teacher. His resume included being first managing editor of the Norwegian-American Historical Association, in which "our friend," Ole Edvart Rølvaag, was a central player as the first secretary and archivist, and being knighted into the Royal Norwegian Order of St. Olav. Theodore's papers are housed at the Minnesota Historical Society and the University of Minnesota.

I am not sure at what age history and archaeology became one of my interests, but a sixth grade teacher turned them into near-obsessions through numerous field trips to Indian and early white settlement sites. The past and the present here are laden with the names of famous and near-famous individuals and events.

The intent of this post is not to elaborate on Ceram/ Marek or Schliemann or Troy, but, hopefully, to stir a bit of interest in archaeology and the study of "our" past, and for me to be a link in the love of history chain for which my sixth grade teacher was a remarkable envoy. There is a three-segment program produced by the BBC on YouTube entitled "Heinrich Schliemann and the discovery of Troy," for anyone who is curious to learn more.

For the literary-types among you, Ceram's "Gods, Graves and Scholars" is an exceptional place to taste the hors d'oeuvres of history. The book was first published in German in 1949, with an English translation appearing in 1951. An expanded edition was published in 1994, which is the copy I have and use. As must be expected, discoveries and technologies have progressed since then and might affect Ceram's work, which he readily warns about .... but, it still serves as an valuable archaeological primer and resource. Here are some of Ceram's own words:

"If we human beings want to feel humility, there is no need to look at the starred infinity above. It suffices to turn our gaze upon the world cultures that existed thousands of years before us, achieved greatness before us, and perished before us."

Some sort of anniversary today, right?

While cruising the unfathomable domain of "believe-it-or-not" -- commonly called the internet -- on an otherwise lackluster day, I sort of stumbled onto "Our Banner in the Sky," originally oil on paper by Frederick Edwin Church. Church painted this dramatic and symbolic colorful sunset in 1861 to reflect "divine" support for the Union during the American Civil War. Seems just as relevant today, would you not agree? Our fundamental problem seems to stem from a lack of consensus about good guys and bad guys and our inability to agree to disagree in a cultured manner. Church, by the way, was a central figure in the Hudson River School of American landscape painters and, for a time, the most renowned American artist.

"Oh baby, I really gotta go now"

"Every time you dig up something from the past, you give more meaning to the present."

That sentence was spoken by Robert Taylor portraying archaeologist Mark Brandon in "Valley of the Kings," a 1954 adventure film written and directed by Robert Pirosh from a screenplay by Pirosh and Karl Tunberg, "suggested by historical data" in the book, "Gods, Graves and Scholars," by C. W. Ceram.

I watched the film a few days ago and, since my life is a series of "what ifs," pulled out my copy of “Gods/Graves” to try for an "imaginary glimpse" of what life would have been like for me had I followed my "once-upon-a-time" plan to degree in and to pursue a career in archaeology.

Ceram was German journalist and writer Kurt Wilhelm Marek, who published "Götter, Gräber und Gelehrte" in 1949. In translation, it became "Gods, Graves and Scholars: The Story of Archaeology," an account of the historical development of archaeology. Marek chose to use a pseudonym to mask his earlier work as a propagandist for the Third Reich. (Probably a good idea.)

The book covers Greek, Egyptian, Mesopotamian archaeology and  other regions, as well. It also provides short biographies of several notable figures in the field, including Heinrich Schliemann, a German businessman and archaeological pioneer, who excavated Hisarlik, now presumed to be the site of Troy, along with Mycenae and Tiryns, and English Egyptologist Howard Carter, who found the intact tomb of Tutankhamun in 1922 in the Valley of the Kings.

Ceram later published more books, including "Yestermorrow: Notes on Man's Progress." Never read it, so far, but the title has hold of my curiosity ....

Yestermorrow .... what a great word, I think .... from Wiktionary:

"Noun yestermorrow (plural yestermorrows) A day in the sequence of days from past to future, emphasizing the connection between past and future events .... a time outside of time .... a time that cannot be fit into the normal timeline, possibly due to relativistic effects."

Author and screenwriter Ray Bradbury, known primarily for science fiction and fantasy novels and short-stories, such as "Fahrenheit 451" and "The Martian Chronicles," also had a book titled "Yestermorrow." His was a series of essays, poetry and philosophical reflections, a few of which make stimulating reading, while others are pretty much a drag.

Back on point (whatever it might be .... your guess is as good as mine): I do keep up with what is happening in the field of archaeology to a degree, and recently have been feeling engulfed by the near-countless finds these days .... cemetery after cemetery in Great Britain; 400,000-year-old bone tools in Italy; hundreds of Bronze Age artifacts uncovered in France; thousands of previously unknown campsites and towns pinpointed in Europe and Africa through study of satellite photographs.

Well, you get my drift .....

My thought has been that at some point any shovelful of earth will reveal some manner of "archaeological treasures," most of them items not worthy of storage, much less of display.

I still think that, but I also think about the sentence: "Every time you dig up something from the past, you give more meaning to the present."

Could be, but are there such things as too much knowledge about the past, too many often trivial artifacts from eras stretching back even into prehistory?

"Time -- he's waiting in the wings"

I liberated this illustration from the depths of the infinite forbidden zone known as the notional environment of cyberspace.  I would give credit to its creator if I knew the identity, but, since I do not, I simply will say, "thank you .... you do good work .... I like your work." It seems to represent to me a creature whose name is Memory trying to find its way back to its owner .... or whatever.

"Memories light the corners of my mind"

Rutger Hauer was a Dutch actor and an environmentalist (although I think the role of environmentalist is the more important of the two and should be noted first) who died in 2019 of undisclosed causes at the age of 75. His most well-known role, many would argue, was in the 1982 film, "Blade Runner," as the self-aware replicant Roy Batty.

"Blade Runner" was an adaptation of Philip K. Dick's 1968 science fiction novel, "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" The film takes place in a dystopian future Los Angeles of 2019, in which synthetic humans known as replicants are bio-engineered by a powerful corporation to work at space colonies. When a fugitive group of advanced replicants led by Batty escapes back to Earth, burnt-out police officer Rick Deckard agrees to hunt them down.

Batty's body begins to fail as the end of his lifespan nears -- planned obsolescence, you understand. As the film draws toward its conclusion, he saves Deckard's life and, as he is dying, Batty delivers a masterful monologue about his memories:

"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die."

The monologue had been composed by screenwriter David Peoples and altered by Hauer. An earlier version read: "I've known adventures, seen places you people will never see, I've been Offworld and back .... frontiers! I've stood on the back deck of a blinker bound for the Plutition Camps with sweat in my eyes watching stars fight on the shoulder of Orion .... I've felt wind in my hair, riding test boats off the black galaxies and seen an attack fleet burn like a match and disappear. I've seen it, felt it ...."

The original script, before Hauer's rewrite, was: "I've seen things .... seen things you little people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion bright as magnesium .... I rode on the back decks of a blinker and watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments .... they'll be gone."

Hauer said later that he "put a knife" to the final lines to cut the "opera talk" and to show Batty wanted to "make his mark on existence .... the replicant in the final scene, by dying, shows Deckard what a real man is made of ...."

How many of us think similar thoughts, I have no idea. In a self-centered way, I think about it frequently, of how my memories -- the recollection of my experiences -- will be lost when I die. At some point along the way, I began to understand it as one of the things we all have in common. Our memories, I assume, disappear into oblivion when we depart our lives on Earth. Our lives intermingle, but each and every one of us is an entity onto itself .... onto ourself.

I guess in a sense of finality, Hauer might be described as an editor with a sharp knife, an environmentalist who put his money where his mouth was and an actor who could bridge the distinction between a replicant and a very human being.

Watch the film and read the novel, if you are so inclined and have not already done so, and think about that final, brief soliloquy and your own memories.

Perhaps, it is for the best our memories fade into oblivion when our switch is flicked off .... but / but / but the simple thought of it is ever so annoying and frustrating ....

"He say I know you, you know me"

This is the once-upon-a-time Metropolitan Stadium in Bloomington, Minnesota. The Mall of America now rests atop the former location of the "Old Met." This is how it looked the evening of August 21, 1965, during the only Minnesota appearance by The Beatles. The stage, you might gather, is sort of in the middle of the frame on the left side and the almost-visible, miniscule black dots on it (listed according to my preferences) are none other than John Lennon, George Harrison, Ringo Starr and Paul McCartney. The photograph came from the Minnesota Historical Society.

The night the "Fab Four" came to town

Had you driven by Metropolitan Stadium in Bloomington, Minnesota, 56 years ago this evening, you might have thought by the measure of the noise emanating from the "Old Met" that the Minnesota Twins baseball team was massacring (metaphorically) the New York Yankees.

In fact, the Twins' locker room was occupied the evening of August 21, 1965, by four individuals more familiar with "football" (soccer) and cricket than with baseball.  Although The Beatles toured the United States three times between 1964 and 1966, this was the only stop by the "Fab Four" in Minnesota. An estimated 25,000 to 30,000 fans were at the event, something less than the nearly 46,000 seating capacity by the time of the concert.

Other than the performance itself, the highlights of the appearance were a press conference by "the lads," the presentation to George Harrison of a new Rickenbacker 360-12, an electric 12-string guitar in a Fireglo red sunburst finish, and the apparent after-midnight presence of a young lady in Paul McCartney's room at the Leamington Motor Inn. The other three Beatles reportedly had gone to bed (and right to sleep) after the concert.

For those who keep score, the guitar was used on "If I Needed Someone" on 1965's Rubber Soul album.

I suppose it is noteworthy to also mention that prior to the concert, all four took saunas for the first time, according to the stadium clubhouse manager Ray Crump, and played roulette with Brian Epstein for the proceeds of the souvenir programs. Tickets for the concert were priced at $2.50, $3.50, $4.50 and $5.50, and The Beatles were paid $50,000.

The setlist that evening featured 11 songs: "She's A Woman" / "I Feel Fine" / "Dizzy Miss Lizzy" / "Ticket To Ride" / "Everybody's Trying To Be My Baby" / "Can't Buy Me Love" / "Baby's In Black" / "I Wanna Be Your Man" / "A Hard Day's Night" / "Help!" / "I'm Down" ....

"Come Together" was not among the tunes performed that night, but it is here today in two renditions, one by The Beatles, acting goofy and having fun, and the other a cover by Sershen&Zaritskaya, who almost always are acting goofy and having fun.

In case you are curious, no, I was not in attendance at the concert .... but, would love to have been had it been possible .... "and it's too late, baby," as Carole King sang, to ever witness The Beatles perform any song live ....

Why this is, I have no idea. It simply is ....

A modified 1911 & a Colt Officer's ACP

"With so many light years to go"

What you are looking at might be described as evolution in action. The pistol on the top is a modified model  of 1911 which, as the number indicates, came into use 110 years ago. Actually, the pistol originated in the late 1890s, was revised here and there and improved, and formally was adopted by the U.S. Army in March 1911. It reigned as our military sidearm until October 1986.

Special operations groups continued to use the 1911 until 2016, but dropped them then except for Marine Corps Recon battalions which still have the 1911 stockpiled. Some die-hards undoubtedly will carry them forever. A civilian variation became available no later than 1913, and a number of police officers carry them when allowed.

The slide on this particular pistol is a Colt with a Colt barrel and other internal parts. It dates to the 1960s and I obtained it in 2013. The frame is an Auto Ordnance. It came with who knows what for internal parts. It also dates to the 1960s and I obtained it in 2014. I swapped out the parts from the frame for some I prefer and think are of better quality.

All-in-all, that makes it a very modified 1911 ....

In an evolutionary sense, the lower pistol is a Colt Officer's ACP. It was introduced in 1985 and is a smaller variation of the full-size 1911. This particular one is vintage 1987, which I obtained "unfired" for a "pretty penny" in 2014. Other than the grips, it is a full-blood Colt through and through.

I designated the pistol with the mountain lion grips a one-of-a-kind commemorative a year ago when one of the big cats was captured on a trail camera about 40 yards from the Dakota house. I later acquired the eagle grips on the officer's model to spiff it up a bit. Although I shoot reasonably well with these grips, I do most of my firing using Hogue rubber grips with palm swells.

Both handguns are in .45 caliber and each has had a few hundred rounds put through it during the past few weeks. For some of us, there is nothing like trigger-time and burning ammo to relax/unwind/feel alive/put life into perspective/regain self-confidence and, most simply, to feel good about ourselves ....

Why this is, I have no idea. It simply is ....

"Lewis is still a good shot, and it is still a pleasure to watch him. 'I think my release is passing over into Zen,' he said once. 'Those gooks are right. You shouldn't fight it. Better to cooperate with it. Then it'll take you there; take the arrow there.'"

Novelist, poet, teacher James Dickey put those words into the mouth of Ed Gentry in "Deliverance," a story of four middle-aged men on a three-day canoe trip down a soon-to-be-forever-lost river. He was, of course, talking about archery.

Being an avid "old-school" archer, I can appreciate the notion of perceptually traveling with an arrow to a target. I also can identify with the concept in the sense of traveling as a bullet from a firearm to a target. With a bit of "perceptual tinkering," I even can place myself on the tip of the projectile.

With apologies to the Beach Boys: Fun fun fun unless big daddy takes the pistols away ....

"I dream of souls that are always free"

A view from the morning ....

"Outside the dawn is breaking"

If for whatever reason you do not live in a locale such as the one pictured in the July 4 post, the next best and somewhat logical thing to do is to set yourself up in a situation where you delude yourself into believing you are in the midst of Nature.

I am operating under the assumption that while you might not be as much of an "outdoors freak" as I am, you do feel some need to have blue sky and billowy clouds above your head and to occasionally sleep in the open beneath the stars and .... well, you get my drift and, as a judge sometimes tells an attorney in film court dramas, "You've made your point, counselor."

From time to time I mention I sleep on the floor. Currently, that is my habit, I mean. I have been known to sleep in a pool of water or on a pile of gravel, which make for interesting stories. In any case, what you see in the photograph is what I frequently see when I first open my eyes in the morning -- the view out my window as seen from lying on the floor.

Seasons change, of course, and the sun is not always shining, but the view mostly is of Nature just outside my window. The sight is refreshing and calming for me, and to awaken to see snow falling or the moon passing by is especially enjoyable while experiencing the comforts of being indoors no matter what the outside weather.

At the present time, I do have a mattress beneath me, although there are other times when I prefer the hard floor. I like to think the mattress-on-the-floor technique is because I still am a college boy at heart. One of my daughters thinks it is because I am sort of "goofy" and the other daughter approves because she thinks it is healthy. "You literally are getting up in the morning instead of simply getting out of bed," she says, "which is healthy for you."

There are times I "delude" myself into thinking my sleeping habit probably is a combination of all three explanations ....

"Second to the right, & straight on till morning"

"Second to the right, and straight on till morning" is how Peter Pan describes the location of Neverland to Wendy. To that, I might add: Sleep a spell, then on and on through the day and all through the night and Neverland will be reached "at the time of sunrise."

Those directions are adequate for me to tell you how to find this place, as well, allowing you brief intervals to stop for food and gasoline. Drive a like-distance westward from there and you will be able to watch sunrises and sunsets over what once was known as the Sea of Magellan.

To turn right is to proceed north where Canada awaits. Left is south with Mexico in the near-distance and the meeting of two oceans at Cape Horn far, far away. To make a U-turn is to backtrack to your point of origin.

Decisions/decisions/decisions .... decisions will have to wait because today is Independence Day 2021 and a time for thought and reflection ....

In Congress, July 4, 1776

"The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America, When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."