I’m working on two pieces — one, a screed against Amazon’s new way of giving me music, and the other on a chapter out of Paul’s letter to the Romans. They both seemed like a good idea at the time I started them, but now only the bit on Romans really deserves my attention. It’s good, but it also needs more than the time I’ve given it. I wrote most of it in a coffee shop in Suwon while I was waiting for Micha to finish an appointment across the street. As much as the words were flowing at the time (I was having a great time looking out the window and around the shop as my fingers typed), a reread revealed some continuity problems and the ending really needs a bit of work.
So, as usual, I’ll leave it simmer for a while; and hopefully, I’ll be able to get back to it tomorrow.
I probably mentioned already that I thought the long rides were shut down for the year, but here we are, December 8th, and it doesn’t really feel like it yet. Joon won’t make it on Saturday, so I just thought, “maybe a quick trip to Seoul.” It’s a bit of a ride, but it’s not too challenging. But then Joon suggested it to someone else, and now another guy I know wants to go, so I might actually have to do it — and I mean, do it all, not just get up there somewhere and peel off in another direction (as I often like to do when I’m on my own). The one to whom Joon suggested it — Wil — is leaving Korea soon and has yet to ride to Seoul, so I’m kind of stuck. I don’t mind though. It’s just that…well, like I said: I thought I was done with the long rides this year. This one will be nearly 80. It gets up there, then makes a detour to Olympic Park, Lotte Tower (you’ve seen it a couple of times on this blog), Lotte World, then Olympic Stadium (Chimshil) before turning south again to go home.
Stay tuned to see if it actually happens. Wil is notorious for disappearing on ride day, and if it’s just the other guy and me, well, I won’t feel obligated to get all the way up there. There are plenty of other ways to go on a whim when one’s heart isn’t set on anything in particular.
We’re getting ready for a special visitor in less than two weeks. My daughter has lived in Okinawa since July, and Japan just reopened direct flights between there and Korea this month, so she’s on her way up on the 20th. Can’t come soon enough for me. I’ve broken up the drudgery of the Covid years well enough lately, but it’s really time for a visit. It hasn’t been forever, but it’s been long enough since we’ve seen her in person. And besides, she’s been craving Korean food something fierce, and her mother and I are gonna be so happy to oblige. Even though I get to eat it all the time myself (and love it!), there’s something about eating it with someone else who can appreciate but doesn’t get enough of it.
And it’ll be nice to have someone else to talk to for a change. Although, living in the same time zone now, we do chat a lot more often, it’ll be better in person. A nice change.
I’m about two-thirds of the way through The Grapes of Wrath right now. It’s such a powerful book in more ways than one. Not only is Steinbeck’s style so good, the story itself wrenches at you. Even if you thought you understood anything about the history and the poverty and the outright devastating struggle the migrants of dust-bowl Oklahoma endured — as well as the inhumanity they suffered at the hands of their exploiters — Steinbeck captures the perspective in such a way that, if you have any heart at all, can’t but affect you in some emotional way.
Everyone should read such a book as this and give it some deep thought.
My sister Gail shared a Haiku with me recently, knowing how much I like them. I absolutely do. I can’t claim at all to be a connoisseur of literature and poetry. I was (and still am) an absolute blockhead whenever a teacher asked me the deep questions of a novel’s meaning in high school. I like to see things for myself and not let someone else tell me what it’s about. “You see, in this book, the character of the father is actually a reflection of the son’s fear of failure — a monster that hides in the space of his head and forces him into these untenable relationships with women.” Uhhhh…yeah?
No, I can’t see it. I just get out of it what I get out of it. I probably read so much as a means of travel — it keeps my mind active and it takes me somewhere I would never be able to go in the real world. Fine by me. I don’t normally catch on to the nuances, nor do I care a lot, unless I can discover them for myself. I certainly don’t want someone else telling me what I should think about it (and of course I’m at a point in life where it doesn’t matter in the slightest).
As an aside, and having said all of that, as I look back at The Grapes of Wrath on my second or third time through it, I’m really starting to get a feel for the character Casey (the preacher) as being there for something deeper than one might catch on the first reading. I figure after a few more times through the book, I might figure something out. But whatever the conclusion, it will be mine.
Now, before I get any further afield — Haiku.
There’s something about Haiku that I’m really now discovering. My response when my sister shared it was that Haiku is “easy, but it’s hard.” I can whip out a Haiku in about three minutes (and that’s on a bad day). But can I write a good Haiku? No. Of course not.
Haiku are so simple, and that’s what makes them so exquisite. For want of any other description (even here, I fall short), they’re like diamonds that have been so delicately crafted. They invoke an entire range of thought and emotion and experience, and all in three simple lines. So short — and so easy to put together — but also so impossible, in such a small space, to capture something so grand and beautiful. I have probably only read a handful at best of such Haiku in my life. When you find one, they truly are to be treasured.
Thinking about it now, I can’t even bring myself to try…