Monday, December 20, 2021

Dec. 20, 2021

poor georgie’s almanack

For a few people, the last two years have been great. But, for most of us of a certain age, it has been distasteful. Sickness, deaths of friends and family, an air fetid with Covid, along with an ear filled with warnings and futile attempt at happiness for another birthday (survival, if that is a goal), another dubious holiday, another new car, or baby, or whatever.

The last few months have been particularly difficult for many of us. Too many who were close, now are permanently gone.

BUT.

Along comes good old reliable Grandpa Earl. He is way more reliable than Nathan Detroit, and more thoughtful than Maimonides, Aquinas, and Aristotle.

I regretted. He rejoiced.

Beautifully.

See below.

TREE OF SOULS

I often feel like a tree of souls,

Whose leaves have life and feeling.

Now at the end of four seasons,

My leaves have slowly been peeling.

Multicolored souls keep falling off,

I'm dizzy with loss, the mind is reeling.

And I have suddenly realized that

Heavens have not been their ceiling.

Leaves of souls have eer fallen away,

Bare branches not very appealing,

My roots are holding the memories,

Few leaves are yet a good feeling.

Where do I go from here old tree,

So many lost leaves revealing,

The timber of life is never forever,

Enjoy what’s left of good feeling.

Thursday, December 9, 2021

WHAT TO THINK. Second, shorter version

poor georgie's almanack Uncategorized December 9, 2021 1 Minute

george kroloff

poor georgie’s almanack

Of course, the obvious is so obvious it sometimes is invisible. The following is happening today in other forms. But first some context.

My wife’s father’s family came to the USA in the late 1800s from a part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire that had freed the serfs just a few years earlier.

In Europe they were serfs … and serfs were not allowed to learn reading and writing.

Her grandfather, became a Pennsylvania coal miner who learned English and eventually was an insurance salesman.

But, that is not the guts of this story.

The Robber Barons of Wall Street around 1900 wanted to hire smart, strong, illiterate, and desperate men to work in their mines, railroads, steel mills and many other businesses … so they could teach them what to think. How to work. How to act. They called the shots.

Some immigrants were slick, like her grandfather “Elek.” Many just followed what they were told. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Today, in my dreams I hear the Buffalo Springfield rock band from 1966 singing “Somethings Happening Here.” Much of the lyrics follow …

There’s something happening here

What it is ain’t exactly clear

There’s a man with a gun over there

Telling me I got to beware

I think it’s time we stop, children, what’s that sound

Everybody look what’s going down

There’s battle lines being drawn

Nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong

Young people speaking their minds

Getting so much resistance from behind

I think it’s time we stop, hey, what’s that sound

Everybody look what’s going down

What a field-day for the heat

A thousand people in the street

Singing songs and carrying signs

Mostly say, hooray for our side

It’s time we stop, hey, what’s that sound

Everybody look what’s going down

Paranoia strikes deep

Into your life it will creep

It starts when you’re always afraid

You step out of line, the man come and take you away

We better stop, hey, what’s that sound

Everybody look what’s going down

Stop, hey, what’s that sound

Everybody look what’s going down.

THERE'S SOMETHING HAPPENING HERE, LIKE BEFORE

Of course, the obvious is so obvious it is invisible. The following is happening today in other forms. But first some context.

While doing family research about my wife’s birth family I became “relatively” sure that the first person in her family to settle in what became the United States was an indentured servant who arrived in Jamestown, Virginia in 1608, well before the Pilgrims stepped on Plymouth Rock.

In 1946, her father died just after being released from the Navy following World War II.

Her mother eventually remarried an Air Force Master Sergeant whose family came to the USA in the late 1800s from a part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire (Galacia) that had freed the serfs a few years earlier. The Sergeant adopted Susan and her brother.

The key take-away fact is that it appears her adopted father’s family were serfs … and serfs were not allowed to learn reading and writing.

After the adoption, Susan’s new grandfather turned out to be an illiterate Pennsylvania coal miner who quickly learned English and eventually became an insurance salesman.

But, that is not the guts of this story.

The Robber Barons of Wall Street around 1900 wanted to hire smart, strong, illiterate, desperate men to work in their mines, their railroads, steel mills, and many other businesses … so they could teach them what to think. Some were slick, like “Elek.” Most were drones.

In my dreams, I hear the Buffalo Springfield combo from 1966 singing “Somethings Happening Here”

There's something happening here

What it is ain't exactly clear

There's a man with a gun over there

Telling me I got to beware

I think it's time we stop, children, what's that sound