All posts by Jim

Thoughts on the Linn of Tummel

This should be a poem. Today, it is a short post.

i’ve been gathering my photos in an organized fashion, a new thing for me. i will make several posts, i’m sure when i am in the mood. For the last five days, i have not been in the mood for several reasons.

Today, we took a hike in the Linn of  Tummel. Linn in Scotland means pool at the bottom of a waterfall. The park or hiking area around where the Tummel River falls into its confluence with the Gerry River is also called the “Linn.”

It was in the midst of on again, off again light rain. i wouldn’t have it any other way. Maureen took the photos. i left my picture-taking phone in the car. Glad i did for i had several thoughts about the hike i would not have had had i been focusing on taking photos.

The first thought i had was i wish Peter and Sandra Thomas were joining us. Peter, one of the best folks i know, married this beautiful Scottish lass a number of years ago. Even though we see them only occasionally, we consider them some of our best friends. This place, even if it hadn’t been in Scotland would have given me thoughts of Peter.

It is a quiet walk. With the exception of three couples coming upon on us from the opposite direction and the half-dozen guides and tourists we went by as they were doing an inner tube ride…er, fall down a short section of small waterfalls, we were alone.

i thought of Camp Ocoee about forty miles east of Cleveland, Tennessee where i went around eleven years old and canoed the Ocoee River through rapids and camped in the rain.

i thought of my dog Cass, the lab with unbounded joy of woods and water and how much i would have loved to have him by my side.

i thought of how my parents would be smiling to see their three children and their spouses walking through the green, green together.

i thought of the five people with me,  the two closest to me in so many ways, sister Martha and brother Joe, and their spouses Todd and Carla, who are just about perfect for matches. i thought about how this trip has exceeded my expectations of sharing our time together.

i thought of many things i would like to convey to my friends. i’m sure i will forget most of those thoughts before i put them here.

i didn’t think about many things.  Those were the negative thoughts. They did not enter my mind.

In fact, i thought how all of you should just once hike the Linn of Tummel. i believe you would find peace as i did.

“Murphy’s Law” with a Twist

The next daily entry from “Murphy’s Law” pasted on my 1981 letter-size calendar booklet gave me pause. i didn’t like it. i had thought of the “goofy guy’s” comment and planned for the post to look like this:

From my “Murphy’s Law” desk calendar archives thanks to Aunt Evelyn, Uncle Pipey, and cousin Nancy:

Law of the Individual: Nobody really cares or understands what anyone else is doing.
Goofy guy’s caveat of  the Law of the Individual: Au Contraire.

Then i read two posts on Facebook. One was from Judy Lewis Gray quoting E.B. White. The test of the letter read:

As long as there is one upright man, as long as there is one compassionate woman, the contagion may spread and the scene is not desolate. Hope is the thing that is left to us, in a bad time. I shall get up Sunday morning and wind the clock, as a contribution to order and steadfastness.

Sailors have an expression about the weather: they say, the weather is a great bluffer. I guess the same is true of our human society—things can look dark, then a break shows in the clouds, and all is changed, sometimes rather suddenly. It is quite obvious that the human race has made a queer mess of life on this planet. But as a people we probably harbor seeds of goodness that have lain for a long time waiting to sprout when the conditions are right. Man’s curiosity, his relentlessness, his inventiveness, his ingenuity have led him into deep trouble. We can only hope that these same traits will enable him to claw his way out.

Hang on to your hat. Hang on to your hope. And wind the clock, for tomorrow is another day.

Following that, i heard the “news” about the Navy trying to hide references to the USS John S. McCain (DDG 56) being hidden during President Trump’s visit to the U.S. Yokosuka (Japan) Naval Base. My shipmate from our first ship, Andrew Nemethy posted Eliot A. Cohen’s Atlantic article. It is a long article and i won’t post it here, but the link here: https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2019/05/uss-john-s-mccain-scandal-stains-navy/590575/.

Thank you, Andrew. i agree with your thoughts in your post. If it weren’t for Judy’s post of White’s 1973 letter, i would be very depressed. Thanks, Judy.

My reaction to Cohen’s diatribe against Trump and the Navy…and the news was typical of my being a pocket of resistance.

i immediately bristled at the idea. My concern from my perception of my Navy losing its focus of its mission to a place where folks can position themselves for higher and higher office, and the perceived need to be nice to sailors, politically correct, and forego responsibility and accountability is deep within my blue water soul. i have to double back and check many stories to guard against using a sound bite, a news story, or a talking head tinged with the need to get attention, readers, or viewers, or to bolster one’s political stance.

Then there is Dr. Cohen. The man is over the top on this one. From his bio, he has done a lot of good things. But he has never been an officer or sailor. Serve at least four years on a ship before you start claiming defeat of our country, Dr. Cohen. You began with some thoughts for consideration, but then, WHAM, you went to hyper space.

As usual, there are conflicting reports as to whether there was actually an attempt to hide McCain’s name during the visit. The claims, as usual, have expanded, and gotten over to the preposterous side of news reporting. i wonder if Cohen checked out the validity.

That’s not to say, i don’t believe it happened to some degree, and even if it was just conversations between some white house officials and the Navy, that is not proof.

Two opposite thoughts:

  1. When i was on an amphibious squadron staff, our five ships were in Subic Bay for maintenance and liberty. George H.W. Bush, as vice-president came to visit. Our leaders (and i am being polite here in not naming names) who eschewed improper topside maintenance, did a flip flop and ordered all of the ships to paint over rust and unprepared exterior surfaces to appear immaculate. This old first lieutenant futilely protested against such hypocrisy. i felt the vice-president and a Navy Hero in WWII, would understand. i was ignored. We “radioed” (crappy paint job without proper preparation) the hell out of five capital ships of the U.S. Navy for the VP to spend about two hours of his visit, mostly inside the ships.
  2. i spent about two years total in Navy shipyards on ships undergoing maintenance. It was not uncommon to use tarps and staging to perform maintenance and often a ship’s name on the fantail was covered by the tarp or the staging. In today’s environmentally conscious environment, covering a ship with the new-fangled version of a tarp to prevent debris from falling into the water is rampant.

So i don’t know what happened, and i am not about to claim the Navy is going to hell just to express my dislike of Trump.

If you read any of my stuff, you should know i don’t like to take political positions. i started to do that here but restrained myself.

Yet when i read those two posts this morning, i became sad we have reached this place where rocks over the wall, spin out of control, no consideration of humanity (other than what benefits our position), and that accountability and responsibility stuff disappearing from our discourse and our personal behavior. i also fervently hope E.B. White was right then and his words hold true for now. Then i think what got us here. Trump, his supporters, and his opposition have certainly been major factors. Lack of compromise, vilification of those who disagree, unwillingness to compromise have led us to this dark place.

If i were a bit younger, i might step up, grab the guidon, and lead the charge to more understanding, more cooperation, ta da ta da ta da. But it’s the younger generation’s world now. Perhaps i write this to vent. i don’t think so. No, i hope i don’t. When i write things like this, it is with E.B. White’s hope we still can make our country and our world better and maybe, just maybe, someone will read this, think (perhaps not in the way i expected, and that’s okay), and help us move toward better and get a little more light in here.

Liberty Call

Well, i wasn’t expecting liberty to come upon me this fast.

Saturday, i will be leaving for 13 days of liberty in Scotland. There are six of us going to Edinburgh, Pitchlory, Isle of Skye, and Inverness. Sounds nice. i’m sure i will enjoy it.

i especially am looking forward to visiting the University of Edinburgh. The professor who influenced me most through my five-plus years at Vanderbilt and Middle Tennessee was Dr. Bill Holland. When i came to my senses and changed my major from civil engineering at Vanderbilt to Literature at Middle Tennessee, Bill Holland not only blew me away with the Romantics, he became a close friend. Bill’s dissertation traced the themes of Chaucer through the British greats such as Shakespeare and Spenser to the Romantics. i was told (although i have been unable to verify it) he received a “first class” doctorate, one of ten recipients of such an honor, especially since the university was founded in 1582.

Regardless, Bill Holland was an impressive professor, and my respect for him as a professor and a friend makes a visit to the Scottish university a joy anticipated for me.

The locales planned for out visit are interesting. i know i will find them wonderful. But for me, having two weeks with my brother, sister, their spouses, and Maureen is the best part. It will be the first time and likely the only time just the six of us will be together without other family. This is special for me.

Initially, i was planning to take notes, some source material, etc. and continuing to post installments of Steel Decks and Glass Ceilings.

But i am old and don’t multi-task as well as i used to do. Come to think of it, when i went on liberty while deployed, i never, ever took any work with me. So there will be no installments of the book while i am on liberty. Nor is it likely i will post much of anything, except some thoughts about the trip until i return in mid-June.

i just wanted you to know.

A Goober Tale

This morning, there was a “memory” of  mine from three years to share on Facebook:

The caption on the memory read “Adjutant (CHMA yearbook) editor, 1962. Note this goober couldn’t keep his clip-on tie, on.”

It was a long, long time ago. Sometimes i think i should have stuck with that journalism thing, after all sports writers always had their ties askew (except for the dapper Fred Russell of The Nashville Banner). But then i would have missed…oh, all you folks approaching my age understand.

Another thought. That large desktop radio next to my left elbow got me in trouble, or maybe it was Mike Dixon who got us in trouble or maybe it was me who got us into trouble, but regardless, the radio played a part. It happened in October, about a year and a half before this photo was taken by the guy who earlier caught Mike and i in our trouble.

It was midday, Thursday, October 13, 1960 Central Daylight Savings Time, on “The Hilltop” at Castle Heights Military Academy. The lunch formation on the circle was at 11:30 as i recall. Mike Dixon was the sports editor of The Cavalier, the national award winning high school newspaper. i was his sports writer before i followed in his footsteps and edited the annual the next year. In addition, Mike and i played pickup basketball in the gym every afternoon we could until it was way past time to go home for supper. But that was another kind of trouble.

We also played baseball together at Heights and in Legion ball after being on opposition teams through the Babe Ruth and Little League years. i also was the “JV” point guard who was the only one who kept feeding Mike the ball when he got hot. Somewhere in the midst of all of that, we discovered a mutual admiration of the Pittsburgh Pirates, sometime begun around 1955. We could site every statistic of every player, and in back-yard whiffle ball games, we could even come close to replicating the stances of each Pirate batter (i preferred the stances of Roberto Clemente with his head roll and Rocky Nelson who looked like he was sitting on a milking stool in his stance).

So we had a problem. Back then, World Series games were played in the daytime. The damn Yankees — David Hall and Eddie Callis, eat your hearts out remembering 1960 — and the Bucko’s were tied 3-3. The deciding game started just before lunch formation. The two Pirate fans put our heads together, most likely during one of those late afternoon pickup games in the gym. They didn’t take muster at the lunch formation, so we could skip. We did. Company A didn’t catch i wasn’t there nor did Company C catch Mike when they marched in through Main into the mess hall.

We were scrunched down in the Cavalier/Adjutant journalism room in the back of the first floor of Armstrong Hall. That radio in the photo was moved to the middle of the desk and turned down low. Mike and i scrunched close to hear the play-by-play. The back and forth, the blue collar mid-section of the country against the white-collar New York dynasty: drama was rife. David Schoenfield wrote a wonderful description of the game for ESPN (http://proxy.espn.com/mlb/playoffs/2010/columns/story?id=5676003) and cites David Maraniss from Clemente: The Passion and Grace of Baseball’s Last Hero — Maraniss’ recent book, A Good American Family, is powerful — and Rob Neyer from his Big Book of Baseball Blunders. i won’t try and capture the beauty of that game nor the wonderful aspects of baseball and its players back then. Schoenfield, Maraniss, and Neyer have done that if you care to read deeper.

Dixon and i were oblivious to the books, the cultural changes coming to the sport and our country. We were glued to that tinny-sound play-by-play description of the game by Bob Prince, the Pirate’s announcer. And then came the bottom of the ninth. And Bill Mazeroski powered the ball over Yogi Berra’s head in left field. In my sometimes faulty memory, Bob Prince yelled his well-known phrase “You can kiss that baby goodbye!” Pirates win, 10-9. Pandemonium went nuclear at Forbes Field.

It also went nuclear in the Cavalier room. Dixon and i were rejoicing. We were slapping each other on the back, whooping with joy, and jumping atop the desks and continuing to jump and holler.

Oops.

Major (at the time) JB Leftwich, the mentor, sponsor and all things adult about that award winning newspaper and annual was working through lunch in his classroom. His classroom was in front, adjacent to the Cavalier room in back.

He came in, catching us in mid-air celebration, and put us on report. i think it was the only time i went before Colonel Dan T. Ingram because i was on report up until my last month the next school year

(Colonel Ingram, the commandant, also was my American History professor that year. i remember him walking to the old single pane window in the front of the classroom, looking out, and thinking the pane was pushed up and the window open, spitting his wad of snuff from under his lip. The snuff landed in the center of the pane. The dark brown liquid dribbled slowly down the pane with the colonel quietly looking at it. He turned and walked back to his desk as if nothing out of sorts had occurred. His students managed to muffle their laughs. Not one said anything. Class went on, eventually dismissed at the bell.)

i was awarded five demerits. Mike was awarded five as well but already had three. He had to march the “bullpen,” aka the circle in front of Main for an hour of punishment. i escaped.

We didn’t display the decorum of cadets expected of us. But you know what? i’m glad i did it and would do it again.

“Murphy’s Law”

From my “Murphy’s Law” desk calendar archives thanks to Aunt Evelyn, Uncle Pipey, and cousin Nancy:

Bucy’s Law: Nothing is ever accomplished by a reasonable man.
Goofy guy’s caveat of  Bucy’s Law: Except a reasonable man lives a reasonable life…not too bad considering how our world is operating today…more reasonable men would be welcomed by me right now.