Pink Slip

I have a delightful friend who is 93 years young. I know it’s a corny expression, but it’s accurate. Annie is a gracious and truly kind person. I met her a few years ago at a function, and at first I wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. That was my myopic error. Annie is funny, she’s still sexy, and she unabashedly loves men. But Annie is also a good friend and admirer of women — she finds good qualities in everyone. Maybe that’s what confused me.

We ran into each other a few months later, and we started talking. Her radiant smile and her beauty — which has not diminished – I found enchanting. Thus began a great friendship that continues to this day. Annie lived not too far from me. After her husband passed away she decided it was too much keeping up the place and living alone. So about a year ago, Annie moved into assisted living. It’s lovely and quite expensive — not gloomy. There are lawns, ponds, and walking trails. Annie has had some funny adventures navigating her way through this completely new experience. And of course, Annie, being Annie, has done so most successfully.

Annie has a busier social calendar than most people a quarter of her age, and she’s often off on day trips and adventures. And, she drives herself! On crazy scary giant-truck-infested highways! She’s gutsy. Since she no longer has the responsibility of taking care of a house and all, she has more time for reading. Not surprisingly, Annie likes romance novels, but the tamer ones. There’s a library where she lives and she regales me with plot summaries of what she’s reading. I enjoy her “reviews.” It’s a genre I am not greatly familiar, and I relish her excitement as she tells me about the latest tome.

Recently, she came upon a book that from the cover and title looked interesting. Now, I don’t know the book, but it really upset Annie – it was too raunchy and disrespectful — she didn’t like it at all. She felt it was corrupting and unworthy of reading. She was concerned for her fellow neighbors and staff laying eyes on it. Anything could happen! It had to go.

Annie ruminated on this on this for days – it was a project! First, she put it in the bottom of her garbage pail, but decided that wasn’t enough – someone could fish it out. Then she went to the dumpster of the facility and realized the same thing could happen there. So she did her best to rip it up and then scatter the book’s remains over various trash receptacles to insure that no one would be able to reassemble it. I found it funny her rigorous effort to save the world from a “dirty book,” and while she was telling me she started laughing too. To be sure, she is the most open-minded person, there is no Fahrenheit 451 aspect to her. The novel rattled her, and being a considerate person, she didn’t want anyone else unsettled.

Typical of Annie she made a quick recovery and continues to enjoy her less spicy romances – but with a watchful eye. Clare Irwin

N.b. As I am reviewing this I realize that the amazing David Sedaris wrote a hilarious essay on a similar experience. Much better and funnier than my post. You may find it in his book Naked entitled “Next of Kin.” Enjoy!

 

The Overflowing Fountain – My Friend Sebastian

I have had the privilege of getting to know Sebastian over the last few years. We spent many wintery Saturday afternoons hammering out an essay that would gain him entrance into an esteemed university. Sebastian, was, is, like an overflowing fountain: abundant, generous, and sparkling in sprit. Nothing is not interesting to him. We had wonderful conversations over those weeks and months. I, as a steadfast humanist, and he, as a passionate physicist, realized that we were talking and reaching for the same “pathway of return” as theologians and metaphysicists call it.

I came up with the name for this blog years ago and put it on the back burner. Life was happening and it had to sit there for a while. Then, during Sebastian’s and my talks about everything under the sun, I understood what the name meant to me. I don’t think it’s obvious yet, but the themes running through the posts coincide with the back idea. I hope too that in the organic nature of things, it will change and grow deeper. Simply put, Phantom Noise In Ordinary Time is where the humanistic and the metaphysic intersect, or where the ethereal and the empirical conjoin.

Phantom noise is a medical phenomenon, as well as a figurative one, when one hears or feels something that was once there, but is no longer, yet one still senses what was lost. Ordinary time, is how we humans measure time kronos, as opposed to God, or the universe, whose time is not really measurable to us – Kairos — a never ending continuum of cycle and pulse. It is a way we exist – the friction between the two and the merging of the two within ourselves. Our memory and our emotions don’t work linearly, and time is a mystery that we desperately attempt to measure. Memory of what has happened, or what is yet to happen, is another mystery we experience

I know I am way out of my wheelhouse here, but I hope in my attempt that this offers some explanation. I would like readers to decide for themselves what the name, the blog, the idea means. I offer this post as a tribute to my friend Sebastian who brought me closer to contemplating what is beyond understanding, and for his logical mind and awakened soul.

Clare Irwin

P.S. This blog owes much to Richard Rohr and his daily meditations, and the extraordinary work of the Center for Action and Contemplation.

P.P.S. For those who found this way too heavy or “out there” don’t worry I’ll go back to reporting on lighter fare.