Give Me That Old-Time Papacy

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Miserable cold, windy day, the kind of day that has you chase your trash cans down the street early in the morning, after crossing parts of your driveway that threaten to slip you up. While groggy, because recent days have been such an intense combination of rain, snow, and meltage that your trusty sump pump works very hard to remove water from the lower reaches of your house — and decides to noisily kick in just after midnight. Keeping you (me) awake long past the point at which you (I) wanted to be awake.

But at least I heard about an historic event today, something that hasn’t happened in almost 600 years; rarer than a Transit of Venus, though the resignation of a pope could be more common if the popes wanted it to be. Naturally, that sent me to reference works to look up the likes of Gregory XII, the last pontiff to voluntarily kick off the shoes of the fisherman. That was during the Great Schism, something you don’t hear much about in the news (it’s old news, after all).

The fine Historical Atlas of the World (Barnes & Noble Everyday Handbooks, 1970) has a map called the Great Schism 1378-1417 on half a page, and it’s instructive in the way maps can be. Some areas are purple: “Adherents to the pope in Rome,” such as England, all the Scandinavian kingdoms, Hungary, Poland, and the Italian states. In green, “Adherents of the pope in Avignon,” including Castile, Aragon, France, Scotland, and the Kingdom of Naples. The sprawling, non-centralized Holy Roman Empire is in gold, listed as a region of “Undecided Allegiance.” No surprise there, but Portugal is also undecided. I don’t remember the reason for that, but maybe they were trying to annoy their fellow Iberians in Castile and Aragon.

So who’s to be the next pope? Does Benedict XVI want to be alive to influence the choice? Perhaps to push for a “nephew” for the job? No, papal intrigue isn’t quite what it used to be. What about the next papal name? I still think Sixtus the Sixth would be a good choice.

The Presiding Bishop

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I looked at the back of this card the other day, since it was a February item, and I discovered it’s been five years since I saw the Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori in person. Just another tempus fugit moment.

The back of the card says: Commemorating the visit of the Most Reverend Katharine Jefferts Schori, Presiding Bishop of The Episcopal Church, to St. Nichols Episcopal Church, Elk Grove Village, Illinois, February 3, 2008.

On an ordinary Sunday in the dead of winter, it’s hard to get out of the house, but how often do you get to see a presiding bishop? Not often, I figured. Lilly and I went.

She’s still in office, which has a curious nine-year term, though there’s probably an arcane reason for it. I’ve always thought the title didn’t have much zing to it, not like those some other Anglican primates get. Just to the north, for example, is the “Primate of Canada,” which used to be “Primate of All Canada,” which is cooler still. Even “Prime Bishop” would be better.

The No Name Storm

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Heavy snow this evening, but it didn’t rise to the level of blizzard. For one thing, there was practically no wind. First rain, than big snow flakes fell almost straight down. Nothing like the promised blizzard in the Northeast, which the Weather Channel is trying to name after a fictional submarine captain or a spunky animated clown fish.

Name winter storms? No, if it’s a real corker, the likes of the “Great Blizzard of 1888” or the “Armistice Day Blizzard,” or the “Blizzard of 1978” will do. Trying to name a winter storm like a hurricane is just the Weather Channel drifting a little more toward infotainment. I’m with the National Weather Service on that score: no names for winter storms.

And speaking of which: no to the new cat Monopoly token. There’s a dog token, of course, but dogs are loyal creatures who will follow you around the board. Cats will lounge around Free Parking all day, waiting to be fed. I’m old enough to remember to man-on-horseback and cannon tokens, which shouldn’t have been retired either. When it comes to weather nomenclature and Monopoly, I’m a mossbacked reactionary.

The Driver’s Seat

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One more daughter picture (for now), because how can a father not post daughter pictures with some frequency?

Lilly, behind the wheel recently. Before we backed out of the driveway. I had to remind her to put on her glasses.

Sledding ’13

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Now that snow’s on the ground, a few inches anyway, the girls wanted to go sledding. So I took them to the catchment where they’ve been sledding for years — except for last year, when snow covered the ground only for a few days, and they didn’t get around to it.

It made me recall fond old memories of sledding as a child… actually, no. I never did that. Snow was in short supply in South Texas from the late ’60s to the late ’70s. And so was the equipment necessary to slide down a slope, in case we ever got any snow.

Anyway, a Nashvillian friend of mine took me sledding for the first time ever when I was 22, in Nashville, during one of its snow events, which happened once or twice a winter. That was a good time, but probably not the thrill of being a small child on a sled.

I didn’t get any good pictures of the girls in motion, like I have before. But I did take one or two that I liked.

Seem a Saint, When Most I Play the Devil

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I read today that Richard III’s bones have been located. I didn’t know they were missing. But then again, the story of Richard III pretty much always ends with, “A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse! Arrrrrrgh!” as some fearsome halberd makes contact with the king’s skull. After that, who cares?

Naturally, there are those who would rehabilitate the monarch’s evil reputation. The NYT article notes: “Among those who found his remains, there is a passionate belief that new attention drawn to Richard by the discovery will inspire a reappraisal that could rehabilitate the medieval king and show him to be a man with a strong sympathy for the rights of the common man, who was deeply wronged by his vengeful Tudor successors. Far from the villainous character memorialized in English histories, films and novels, far from Shakespeare’s damning representation of him as the limping, withered, haunted murderer of his two princely nephews, Richard III can become the subject of a new age of scholarship and popular reappraisal, these enthusiasts believe.”

Naaah.

I was also interested to learn that the king will probably be reinterred in Leicester Cathedral, against the wishes of those who would put him in Westminster Abbey or some such. Not that anyone’s asked me, but I’d go along with Leicester Cathedral. In London, he’d be just another king – albeit a hunchbacked, villainous one – among many. In Leicester, he’d be a star attraction. He’s served his country for centuries as an infamous villain of lore and literature, time now for him to promote tourism to the Midlands. If I’m ever anywhere nearby, I’ll go pay a visit.

Light Snow, But It Added Up

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At last, snow worthy of the name. Or at least in the North. I’ve seen enough Northern winters (or, enough already), so I think I can call this one the first real snow of the winter — looks like an early December snow. Odd.

The deck, early February 2013.

The snowfall also meant the first snow shoveling of the season, hearing the rumble of trucks and their flashing lights entering your room in the middle of the night, and the buzz of snowblowers. I still do the snow manually.

More Bullwinkle

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Sometime in 1987, I bought a Bullwinkle clock at a clock shop in Water Tower Place. It’s one of only a few things I ever remember buying at that mall on Michigan Ave. It was an impulse purchase. When I saw it, I knew I had to have it.

Note that the numbers are in reverse order. The hands moved counterclockwise, and the clock kept good time, only backwards. I hung it in my apartment in Chicago from ’87 to ’90, and more than one person commented on how confusing the clock was.

Near Bullwinkle is a copyright mark, “1987 P.A.T. Ward,” so I hope the $20 or so I spend provided a bit of income to Jay Ward (d. 1989), who deserved to profit mightily from Bullwinkle. On the back is “H.I. Enterprises, Milwaukee.” Not Frostbite Falls, but not too far away.

At some point (I think), a battery leaked and damaged the movement, so it doesn’t run any more. But years ago I hung it on the wall in my office over the large bookcase all the same. Recently I took it down for dusting, and had Ann pose with it.

New Media Moose & Squirrel

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Not long ago, Ann wanted to see something on Hulu, and came to me for suggestions. I discovered that regular old Hulu, not the pay-extra Hulu, offers Rocky and Bullwinkle. I picked Season 2, Episode 1, the beginning of the shaggy-moose story about Upsidasium.

Upon further investigation, I discovered that as a story arc, “Upsidasium” has its own Wiki page. According to that source, it was the second-longest story arc for Moose & Squirrel, coming in at 36 episodes. The fictional metal also appears on this list.

Ann’s taken a liking to the show, and asks to watch it more often than I have time for, and we’re not done with the Upsidasium story yet. We have some Rocky and Bullwinkle on VHS (or, to be pedantic, The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle and Friends), but it’s been years since she’s seen any of those.

She’s also been taking pictures of some of the characters. I thought the one she took of Mr. Know-It-All (above, in a sauna) turned out well, considering it’s a shot of a video in progress on a laptop. This is a Mr. Know-It-All I’m particularly fond of.

Chance Encounter With an Elected Official

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After attending an event this morning, I walked through downtown from Trump Chicago to Union Station, aiming to catch a 10:30 train. Time was a little tight. My route took me by the State of Illinois Building (Thompson Center), where I notice a large DHL truck parked outside. Glancing inside the building and its enormous atrium, I noticed a wall of DHL boxes.

Not something you see every day. Or ever, come to think of it. Train or no train, I had to get a closer look at that. On the other side of the boxes, I saw a small crowd of people, and a few TV cameras. Some kind of event was going on.

So I peaked around the DHL wall and saw a man giving a speech. He was lauding a thing called Pizza4Patriots, which ships pizza to soldiers on occasions such as the Super Bowl, with the assistance of DHL.

He looked awfully familiar. Then it hit me. That was Gov. Quinn, doing the ceremonial part of his job. I’d never seen him in person before. Curiously, today’s the fourth anniversary of him succeeding his (now) imprisoned predecessor, Gov. Putz.