Thank You Notes

sniff November’s rose

march on for democracy

time for giving thanks

Although we’re scantily-clad, let’s “walk through the garden’s dormant splendor” with poet Ross Gay.  We exhale cloudy breaths into crisp air while sinking our bare feet into frost-glazed grass.  Fear of change and loss disappears while curling our toes in beauty.  “Say only, Thank You.”

University of Arkansas Professor Lisa Corrigan explains the power of peaceful resistance.  “In social movement studies, we talk about how marches and protests expand the threshold of acceptable risk so that people take more and bigger social risks.”  About the approximately 8 million talkative, laughing participants on October 18th: “Rallies like this bring together multigenerational groups and the playfulness can help create enthusiasm for big tent politics against the monoculture of fascism.  Notably: every single rally (including in the small towns) was bigger than the surrounding police force available.  That kind of image is VERY IMPORTANT if you’re demonstrating social coherence AGAINST a fascist government and its gestapo.”  Thoughtful signs—stories and fun.  Costumed militia—frogs and chickens.   

Thank you, Contenders—Governors-Elect and Tennis Finalists

Virginia’s Abigail Spanberger, federal agent and CIA officer, and New Jersey’s Mikey Sherrill, Navy helicopter pilot and federal prosecutor, bunked together in a DC apartment when elected in 2019 to the House of Representatives.  They share national security backgrounds and gratitude for their friendship.  Both claim that they learned early how to get things done as the eldest of three girls.  Unsurprisingly, the eldests chose to run for governor rather than return to Congress, attracted to executive leadership and decision-making power.  Now they hold the title Governor-Elect, victorious in the country’s only two and surely bellwether gubernatorial elections.  Spanberger: “The things I want to get done on a state level – I know I can get done much, much faster that what I know to be the process in Congress.”  Sherrill: “What I love about running in this race is that the buck stops in the governor’s mansion.”  Governors-Elect Spanberger and Sherrill greet their supporters on a rightly-raucous, wildly-happy November 4th evening.             

More than a tennis story.  First cousins, childhood training partners and Texas A&M teammates, take the court in the Shanghai Masters championship match on October 12th.  Older and established competitor Arthur Rinderknech faces #204-ranked Valentin Vacherot.  Struggling through a career slump, Rinderknech plays spectacular tennis to reach the finals.  Vacherot?  An alternate, he hangs around the practice courts and lucks into the qualifying rounds, winning (barely) two matches that earn him a spot in the main draw.  Nine matches later, Vacherot wins the tournament, 4-6, 6-3, 6-3.  Weeping Rinderknech addresses weeping Vacherot at the trophy ceremony: “Two cousins are stronger than one.  You won today, congratulations.  I gave it my all.  I’m so happy for you, I hope there will be more.  I love you so much.”  Vacherot sketches on the camera screen: “Grandpa and Grandma would be proud.”  A love story.

Thank you, Extraordinaires—Jane Goodall and Diane Keaton

A young girl born in London in 1934 turns the family henhouse and garden into her playgrounds.  She savors rereads of Dr. Dolittle and Tarzan of the Apes.  Primatologist and conservationist, Dr. Jane Goodall died of natural causes on October 1st while on a speaking tour in California.  She worked on a document until 10:30 the night before, emailing the draft to her assistant, and planned on attending a Pasadena tree-planting the next day.  Without formal scientific training in a male-dominated field, she set out in 1960 on a supposedly 6-month research project in Tanzania’s Gomba Stream National Park.  Goodall spent her time among the chimpanzees, giving them names and forming relationships, observing their mourning rituals and toolmaking skills.  “I went as a scientist.  I left as an activist.”  Averaging 300 globetrotting talks a year, Goodall often greeted her audience with her imitation of the chimpanzee pant-hoot.  “We’ve got to get together and address climate change, a problem that should be at the heart of everything.”  

We know Diane Keaton.  She evaporates into her characters, but the actress still magically remains Diane Keaton for over half a century.  Drop into the crowd with me as she wins the 2011 American Film Institute’s Lifetime Achievement Award.  We’re seated at the table next to hers.  Two movie stars salute her—Keaton wears their tributes.  Morgan Freeman perfectly reads her note describing their movie kiss. “His lips were just so luscious.  Like big pillows you just fall into….  It felt gooey and good.”  Meryl Streep, dressed in Keaton-like attire, introduces us to the Lucite woman on display at the Museum of Natural History.  “You could see her guts, heart, and brain.”  And like Ms. Lucite, “nobody stands more exposed, a transparent woman showing herself inside and out,” than Keaton.  Streep toasts her friend’s 1977 Academy Award winning portrayal of Annie Hall: “She had the stream of consciousness of a hummingbird.”  Closing, Streep locks eyes with Keaton: “I thank your mother because she brought us you.”

Something’s Gotta Give

Reds, The Godfather, II, III

Baby Boom, Book Club 

Hummingbird Annie Hall sings “Seems Like Old Times, dinner dates and flowers / Just like old times, staying up for hours.” 

Thank you, Breathgivers—Yasmin Williams and Mark Knopfler

Wander in “Sunshowers” with acoustic guitarist Yasmin Williams.  Sit with her on river rocks.  Come inside.  Orange chair.  Blue shoes.  Slapping and sliding—fingerstyling.  No words. 

More guitar—no words yet.  How does belonging, at longest last, feel?  We’re “Going Home” with Mark Knopfler and accompanists.  Smiling musicians bond in their affection for each other and joy in their creation.  Now.  “Baby, I see this world has made you sad.”  (Oh, Baby.)  Knopfler and bandmates find the words, and “Why Worry” fits these days like a warm glove.  “There should be laughter after pain / There should be sunshine after rain.”  Love shines red—sky turns blue.

Thank you, Breathtaker—Ross Gay

The poet hallelujahs his good fortune.  Yes, sadness comes for everyone.  Yes, self-absorption traps us when grief swallows us whole.  Like Gay when he walks to the coffee shop, we lose appreciation for bluebirds and tree branches.  But luck strikes him and us.  Gay quickens his pace, thrilling at the sound of a scratchy recording of the “Opera Singer” pouring from an open window.  Beauty spins on a turntable.  Suddenly, trailed by children, he’s a “mad warrior of glee”  running along the street.  A housedressed woman painting a doorway looks at him briefly.  Her brushstroke sings him a lullaby, yes it does.  No more words.  Why?  Language “makes of miracles anecdotes.”  What to do?  “Let me stop here / and tell you I said thank you.”       

hearing pant-hooting

humming some hallelujahs

laughing after pain