NYC - The Metropolitan Museum

Funerary equipment belonging to one of the three minor wives (Maruta, Manhata, or Manuwai) of King Thutmose III, who reigned between 1479 and 1425 B.C.. Susan was not impressed with the term "minor" used in the musuem's description.

Linen sheets from the tomb of Ramose and Hatnofer (1479 - 1458 B.C.). It was an old custom at Thebes at least since the early Middle Kingdom (ca. 2000 B.C.) to deposit great numbers of linen sheets with the dead. The more sheets you had, the greater your wealth.

Linens from ABC Carpet and Home, New York City, 2009 A.D.

Sketch of a swallow, ca. 1473 - 1458 B.C.

Scarabs, lots and lots of scarabs. Scarabs are named that because they are derived from the dung beetle family, Scarabaeidae. Nice trivia?

NYC - ABC Carpet & Home

Susan asked the security guard as we came in, "Is it all right if I take pictures?" The suspicious guard said, "Let me see your camera." She showed our little point-and-shoot digital camera and the answer was "No problem." I guess she didn't look enough like a professional photographer.

The biggest problem at ABC is avoiding taking too many pictures -- everything is arranged to look so . . . ancient . . . so interesting . . . so expensive.

NYC Mellow Yellow

Susan is a big fan of Bill Cunningham's On The Street but fashion photography isn't very high up on her Top Ten List. So she picked a color -- yellow -- as we headed out to museums. Taxis did not count.



She quickly realized that taking pictures while you walk toward people walking toward you was difficult unless you like blurry pictures. She also realized that leaving the camera on all the time ran the battery down a lot faster than she liked. And the battery would die exactly when the perfect shot appeared.


My trek through the city that day was accompanied by my intrepid photographer muttering "Yellow, yellow, yellow...."

Remembering

The last Monday of May (May 25, 2009) is set aside to commemorate U.S. men and women who died while in military service. The gravestones at many cemeteries will be graced by U.S. flags placed there by family members and volunteers.

Although I like to think of my blog as a humorous and entertaining glimpse of my life, today I want to give you a piece out of my past, and I want you to be able to see Memorial Day not as parades, picnics and flags but instead as people, families, and children, both here and gone.

HBO recently showed a special program called "Taking Chance", which depicts the Military Escort Duty of a Marine Officer, based on a true account. In case you aren't aware, a Military Escort accompanies the body of any serviceman killed in duty overseas, all the way from arrival in the United States to the burial/final service where the Military Escort presents to the family the American flag used to cover the coffin. Military Escort duty isn't assigned, Military Escorts volunteer for the duty. In January of 1968 I volunteered for service in Vietnam. And I volunteered for Military Escort Duty.

I watched the program "Taking Chance" and went to tell Susan.
Susan: I remember you did Escort Duty when we were stationed in California. Do you remember anything about it?
Me: (without thinking) His name was Brown and I took him home to a little town in Illinois.
Susan: You were in the service for 5 years and up until now the only name you can remember from that whole time was your roommate in Vietnam. But now, all of the sudden, you can remember the name of the man you did Escort Duty for?
Me: Yes.

Susan did internet research and found a U.S. Air Force Officer named Brown who died in 1968 and had an Illinois hometown. More research pulled up a post from a David Brown, asking for information about his father, Barry Lynn Brown. Was it the same person? Susan did more internet research, made many phone calls to funeral homes and VFW centers where finally she talked to a very helpful veteran, Bruce McMillan. He offered to go to his local library and do more research for her and was able to mail her a copy of the local May 6, 1968, newspaper with the large headline "...Killed in Vietnam".

Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall, Washington, DC, April 2009

I emailed David telling him I didn't know his father but that I had served as Military Escort at his father's funeral. As a result of remembering his father's name, Susan's research, and Bruce's help, I've now been able to communicate with Barry Lynn Brown's sons, David and Kent; his widow, Patty; and his grandson, Connor, who never knew his grandfather but wants to go into the Air Force. They have been incredibly generous in their appreciation of what I did for them, yet they were the ones who made the ultimate American wartime sacrifice.

What did I do for them?
When my name came up to the top of the volunteer Military Escort Duty list I got a phone call telling me that within 12 hours a flight would be arriving from Vietnam and I was to meet it to begin Escort Duty. Not until I showed up did I find out where I was going and who I was escorting. I did my best to preserve the dignity, honor and respect Barry Lynn Brown deserved. I presented the folded American flag from his coffin to his widow, "from a grateful nation".

I can think of no greater honor I could have had than the privilege of escorting the body of an American serviceman, killed in action, home to his family.

Captain Barry Lynn Brown, Killed in Action, Vietnam, May 5, 1968

On Memorial Day, when most people think of small American flags placed on gravestones, think back to May 1968 and visualize a very young widow and her two sons, ages 1½ and 2½ years old, being handed a carefully folded flag by a very solemn young man.

Think also of the family of James Clifford McKittrick. They are still waiting for him to come home. I'm still waiting to send them my POW-MIA bracelet.

Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall, Washington, DC, April 2009

New York City, Another Part

Here are some random images that caught Susan's eye. This is a copper sculpture in the front courtyeard of a building across the street from the Met. It looked like a giant bird house, about five feet high.

This photo was taken inside the Met. Susan took about 10 pictures of this same arch while we were sitting in the Cafe. Each picture had a different camera setting as she was figuring out my/our/her new camers. I tried to explain to her the important thing to remember is which setting went with what photo. Her answer to that: "Damn, if I thought that was important I wouldn't have bothered to learn how 'Delete' works."

This camera belongs to a friend who left it in Susan's safekeeping while she went to get a cup of tea. The friend takes breathtakingly beautiful photos but says "Oh, this old camera... " That statement gives it all away -- she is definitely a superb photographer.

These cameras were for sale, just sitting in a camera graveyard.

Finally, why do people who live in New York City put donkey gargoyles on their window grills? Are they all Democrats?

New York City and Texas Bloggers Meet

Why this painting? Plan A: We set up a blind date with Magpie who said she'd meet us at this painting in the Met. It was like a scavenger hunt finding the painting but she fortunately didn't stand us up. Plan A Enhancement: We also arranged a meet-up with Lost Aussie and her Significant Other and we knew that would be a sure thing because we'd met them before. Lesson learned from the previous meeting: There are TWO coat check areas at The Met. If you are going to meet someone "at the coat check" be sure you specify which one.

The moons or stars or whatevers were aligned correctly because we did manage to all meet and went off to dinner together with conversations about blogging, art, travel, food and everything else under the sun. I'm a Loner by nature but meeting everyone was really special. Thank you, Lost Aussie and Magpie for being my Blog Buds.

Susan was a camera fiend on this trip and trailed behind us to get this picture as we all walked through Central Park. Susan and Magpie have decided they are twins separated at birth because they have so many similar likes and dislikes. Not that they even vaguely resemble each other.

Lost Aussie and I met in an art class over a year ago and when we came to New York City last fall I met her SO, who turned out to have gone to the same Texas college I did. The only thing missing from this gathering was The Altered Page, who had too many conflicts to make our meet-up. Next time!

Susan speaks: Many, many thanks to our New York City friends who took the time to meet us. As I struggle and fuss to put Don's blog entries up, I'll smile as I remember how good, really really good, it was to be with you.

New York City, Guggenheim

The show at the Guggenheim was The Third Mind, all about how art, literature and philosophies of the East influenced American artists. An interesting show and I'm sorry you missed it but a piece of the best part of it is shown in this video.

In the video you'll hear the sound of the bell carriage but you won't see the people all watching it as it moves down. Everyone waited patiently for the bell carriage to drop and watched as it wafted through the rotunda. Magic. The special part for us isn't always the art but instead the people looking at the art. In the picture above you can barely see the bell carriage, it's just below the woman in the white shirt on the top left.

"The museum invited Ann Hamilton to respond to The Third Mind with a site-specific installation in the museum rotunda. Her work, human carriage (2009) is a mechanism composed of two elements: 'book weights' made from thousands of cut-up books that ascend and descend the rotunda heights via a pulley system, and a pair of Tibetan cymbals encased in a white silk 'bell carriage,' which cascades down the balustrade around the rotunda spiral, its purifying ring awakening visitors with random chimes. Human carriage is a metaphor for the power of the transmission of ideas through books, which, in the artist's words, 'leaves no material trace but which might forever change you.' "

Thank you, Ann, for a beautiful transient piece of art.

New York City, Part Two

In New York City we often stay at the Beacon Hotel where all the rooms have microwaves and little refrigerators. Right across the street is Citarella and upstairs is their bakery case where Susan buys her Porcupine Cake. $17.99, not that she even cares or notices because whatever the price is, a chocolate lover pays it. I'm glad to pay whatever the price is just so I don't have to hear her say "I hope they have Porcupine Cake. I really like Porcupine Cake. They'd better have Porcupine Cake..." at least a thousand times during the week before we get to the city.

Usually the Porcupine Cakes are little miniatures, just right for the two of us to split. But sometimes they just have the large one, suitable for frenzied attack. That's why the refrigerator is important because when you want Porcupine Cake for breakfast too..... Diligent as Susan is with the camera, this cake was already whacked into before she decided to catch her breath and take the picture.

Inside is very light and fluffy chocoate mousse and whipped cream filling, the outside is crisp chocolate g-something, twisted up into little curls. Silly as the cake looks, I like eating it, too, much to Susan's disappointment.

Was there anything else important we saw in New York City besides cake? Yes, but my Blog Wrangler is wandering off whining about missing her cake so you'll have to wait a day or so.

New York City Welcome, Part One

Our first hour in the city and we get this colorful sight as our welcome to the Guggenheim Museum. Susan wanted to tell him/her that white go-go boots were so last year but settled for a quick picture instead. I held her back from asking where he/she got his/her glasses.



Street vendors sold colorful bags in front of the museum. The black and white one was tempting but we (ok, I) resisted.

Don't they have gardeners at the Guggenheim?

Mornings on The Big Road Trip

This is what every morning on the road looks like for us. Why? Because the traffic is lighter and the 18-wheelers are still sleeping. Sometimes I even give up my hotel free breakfasts (usually at a Hampton Inn) just so we can get going before 6 a.m. A bad thing about those breakfasts is that Susan has discovered Frosted Flakes.

On the Road Again

Nope, not us.

We took off on our annual BRT (Big Road Trip) last month. Susan made sure you had something to look at while we were gone but now you'll be entertained by pictures of what we saw when we remembered to take the camera with us. And had fresh batteries in it. And the card.

We'd been on the road for three days, going through Virginia when we made a pit stop. Susan, who will talk to anyone, even a rotting corpse, saw this guy polishing his motorcycle and went up to ask him just how long he thought it would stay clean while he was on the highway. Because she grew up in a military family and did a lot of moving around as a kid, she is never surprised when connections easily happen. It seems like military "brats" somehow always find a link where ever they go. On a highway 1500+ miles from Austin and we wind up talking to Texans!

Al and Debbie were on their way from Midland, Texas, to Rhode Island for his Navy reunion. All I can say is that he has a lot more stamina than I do. And a VERY immaculate motorcycle.

Not What It Seems

Nope, not my colonoscopy. It's our clothes dryer vent, ready to have its lint cleared out. The vent is over 15 feet long with 2 bends so it gets an annual inspection. I took the picture to prove to Susan that I was actually inspecting it.

Liar, Liar?

Somewhere I heard that a person telling a lie will always look down to the left. I've noticed that a lot of my small Dudes do that. Or it is because they are looking down at my dominant (right) hand?

NYC 2008 - Part 3

The MotherShip.

32 years of my soul were sucked down into its basement.

Now, contrary to what my Dudes look like,

life is good.