Woo-ee! I'd call it a busy day, even for me. Started off with Susan's and my usual walk, then dressed for the commemoration of the eighth anniversary of our sorry national experience in Iraq. I had written "Peace Vigil, 11:30-noon" on my calendar, but that seemed too short a time, so I drove over to the Unitarian church in Pomona at 10:00.
Found I was right the first time, so very early, but that was okay. I had been curious about this group that bills itself as a religion, but seems to so loosely organized. I slipped into the the Unitarian Church, where the event is held and witnessed about three quarters of the service.
I continue to be bemused by Unitarianism. The general "tone" is modelled, it seems, after a number of other religions--I think Christianity, in particular. It includes, though, nods to Judaism and Buddhism, as well as deists, pagan, and other non-God-centered beliefs. Lots of music; hymns, actually, but they were called "songs" and a surprising number of rituals I remember from Catholicism. Anyhoo, I stayed for the whole thing and found it interesting.
After, outside in the glorious sunshine, the congregation and newcomers--there were about fifty people there, I guess--took daffodils from those carrying them. As somebody read the names of those New Jersey military persons who had been killed in Iraq and Afghanistan, the daffodils were slipped into vases set up on a draped table. A nice tradition, to be sure, but disturbing to me for two reasons. The first was the complete and utter absence of any mention of the people we went over there to slaughter. Now, I know we don't know their names and never will, but at the very least, their demise and the destruction of their country could have been lamented. The other problem for me was when one of the organizers identified two people there who had an offspring "serving their country" in the military. "Serving their country?" That cliched rhetoric, which every American should vow never to repeat (if not on moral, at least on aesthetic grounds) supports the idea that there's something benign and "patriotic" about enlisting. Dispiriting to hear it.
Just had time to drive home and indulge in my cabbage and carrots when I went to the clubhouse in time for "Sunday at the Opera." This was Tannhauser, and boy, it was--well, long. Actually pretty interesting sung in German, but boy, was Wagner a moralistic preachy type--although I understand he indulged in plenty of extra-marital activity in his heyday. It was over until after 5:00, but worth seeing, I thought.
I was about to make dinner when Mary Ann Van O. called to say she had just cooked up a pot of pasta and why didn't I come over and share it? Well, sure, my mantra is "never turn down an invitation," so I high-tailed it around the corner and enjoyed Zita, a salad, and a coupla glasses of Merlot for good measure.
Fine day was topped off by daughter Ellen on the web cam, as ever, one of my favorite parts of Sundays.
And the beat goes on: Dinner tonight with Vivian.
4 comments:
Mimi, this "patriotism" is a concept that needs some thinking about, it seems to me. I can understand some feeling of particular affection for the place in which a person was born and raised, or has lived most of his or her life. But I'm thinking that feelings like that are only really possible about rather local areas. New Jersey, maybe, or Indiana ... in fact, state-sized areas might be too big. But how someone is supposed to feel all warm and fuzzy about something the size of the U.S. -- I don't know. Seems pretty unlikely. "Ahhh, Utah ... I've flown over it several times! From 35,000 feet, it's one of those brown-looking places! O Utah, my dear Utah!" Hmmmmm.
Very apt obsevation, Jim! Actually, I'm emotionally connected to my birthplace, Ventnor, N.J., NOT to the whole state. Most of that connection, I think, is more of nostogia for a vanished past. Also, my twin sister still lives there and of course, it's in people that love should lie. I subscribe to the motto, "Never love anything that can't love you back" and I think that puts it in perspective.
(Your comment about Utah was funny. I've never even been near it, or your Indiana, either.)
My two cents.....
Driving across the US twice, and several times flying to various places, renting a car and exploring on our own certainly increased my feelings about this country. I only spent a night or two in Wyoming, but I still feel an attachment. Maybe my attachment is to the memory of the wonderful time I had there...who knows? BTW, Utah...is a worth a trip on its own. Indiana...yeah...other than Notre Dame I don't remember much about it. My point is...once you sit down and 'share' with someone, you feel differently about them than you did before the sharing...not always a positive feeling. If the sharing was positive and happens in a place unfamiliar to you...you are likely to attach some positive feelings to the 'place'....just sayin' ...
I understand, Pat, and have felt the same way. Not sure if that would be called "patriotism," though. I feel an attachment to places in Asia, but that's surely because my sons live there. Guess we all agree the trouble starts when patriotism shades into nationalism. Maybe the dilemma is, how do you tell them apart?
Post a Comment