| Where Recherche duTemps Perdu|
---- meets Kirchliche Dogmatik
On the road for a very quick up-and-down trip to Michigan to see June's Mom. No special occasion. Sorry, but this has needed to be too quick to meet with anyone else up here this time.
For reasons of space, June and I are staying in a nearby motel once again. Taiwin, my identical twin on the bear side of the family, insisted that, given his Starbucks pedigree, he should be in charge of the coffee at the motel. Since we usually just leave it be, I thought it would be safe to let him have that job.
Every once in a while, when we drive up to see June's mom, sister, and brother-in-law, we take a very short side trip to see whether the house in which June spent her late childhood, high school, and college years is still standing. As you can see in the pictures, it still is. During the summer of 1971, before we got married that August, I slept on the back porch, which was not quite as nicely closed in as it is now. During the days back then I drove from house to house along the dirt roads of Livingston County, declaring to anyone who came to their door that I was their Fuller Brush man. An interesting lesson in human nature. I was turned away in all kinds of manners, and I also turned down a number of various offers.
June and I took her mom to a local restaurant for supper, or, better, she took us, but I drove. Then, as we were going to leave, I backed into the front of a parked van. I don't want to make any excuses; it was parked perfectly legally, but it was also essentially invisible to me. I'd draw you a diagram, but then it really would be making excuses, so I won't. There was a little bit of damage on the grill and on the front wheel well, and--since it's all plastic nowadays and the body shops work on the system of exchanging parts--I probably might just as well have totally smashed them. So, I went back into the restaurant, and one of the servers went from table to table inquiring whether they owened a van of that description. Someone did, and he was very nice about it. We exchanged the usual information and went to the Milford, Mich. Police Dept to file our reports, and I hated it, particularly the fact that I had spoiled that couple's evening. It spoiled mine, too, but remember, I'm a Calvinist, so I expect me to mess up things.
The ickiness, which I will now disclose is not leprosy, is slowly-- very slowly--fading. Enough so that, when we got back to the motel, I felt it to be safe to go swimming in the pool, the first time in the water for weeks. That was great. It's open 24 hours around the clock, so, if I get one of my common 3 am waking up spells, theoretically, I could go for a middle-of-the-night swim. I doubt that I'll do it, though.
Last night, when I woke around 3 am (a time, by the way, when I do not do my best writing), I decided to see if I could make myself sleepy again by copying source-information into the MS- Word Reference system. I started on my batch of Wilhelm Schmidt's books, which includes one duplicate copy of one volume of Der Ursprung der Gottesidee. When I opened it, I saw something that I don't think I had ever noticed before.
I immediately scanned it, and I almost went to wake up June when I saw it, I was so excited. The inscription reads, "To the outstanding Africanist, Dr. Steven Lagiociamby, as a gift in return for his valuable Contributions to the Ethnography of Africa. February 24, 1951. W. Schmidt." At the moment, if anyone wants to put in a bid for the unsigned copy, you are welcome to do so, but my reserve price, which I won't disclose, is still absurdly high. The inscribed copy's reserve price is out of reach.
By the way, speaking of Wilhelm Schmidt, I have an August 31 deadline to get the manuscript on original monotheism done, so that's one of the items that is keeping me from being more regular on the blog and other matters. 2011/2012 is actually perfect timing for the book. Der Ursprung . . . was first published in French in 1911 as a special issue of the journal Anthropos as L'origine de l'idée de dieu (available for free on B&N's Nook for the PC, which is also available for free. Formidable!). Then, in 1912, Schmidt came out with the German version.
After a Saturday afternoon and evening with June's mom, tomorrow morning, after a slow breakfast with all the available relatives, we'll head back home to Indiana, Lord willing.