Rear View Mirror – My Week in Review

It started snowing last night and by the time my coworkers and I left the restaurant, there was enough stuck to the city streets to watch people do ridiculously reckless things with their cars on Madison street.  On the way to the train station, I witnessed a car slide into another car, both drivers get out, inquired as to each other’s physical condition, apologized, and told each other good luck and be careful.  So Seattle.  I took a few photos of the snow, but it was dark and it was still snowing, so they just came out blurry.  Plus, everyone has seen snow (that is a gentle reminder to a few facebook friends).  I will see if I can get a few today, if they seem interesting and different.  We have to go retrieve a car from a hotel parking garage and do the Sunday shopping.  My look for the day will be called “He Finally Has A Legit Reason To Wear Those Rubber Boots.” 

Today is my grandfather’s birthday, he would have been 94.  A lot of people live to be 94 now, but he died at a far-too-young 68.  Seems unfair.

 

Name:  Ivan Selmer Parker
Birth: Feb. 9, 1920
Death: May 18, 1988 (68)
 Burial: Miller-Woodlawn Memorial Park Bremerton Washington, USA

Social Security Number:  537-03-8042

I remember that he had this strange way of floating on his back in the lake, his feet sticking out of the water, his hands slowly moving back and forth. It was sort of like treading water, sort of like floating on his back, but very casual. I try to recreate that floating when I am in the lake each summer, but I don’t have it exactly right because his head was sort of sticking up out of the water and he could hold conversations. I remember once, when my sister and I were very young, he was tucking us into our sleeping bags out at the lake house and my sister wanted to sleep in her socks. He told her that if she wore her socks to bed that her toes would rot off, jokingly. We laughed and laughed. I wish I could write down every single thing I remember about him, I probably will over time. I want to write it all down so I remember it all, forever.

I will keep looking for more information and adding it when I find it, but he has very little internet presence, no obituary or anything like that.  I guess if I joined that family tree website, I could find things…

This week on Waldina, I celebrated the birthdays of James Dean, Jack Lemmon, Ramon Novarro and Elaine Stritch. I also added Charlie Chaplin’s Modern Times to the “Required Viewing” film list and openly confessed my obsession with the 1970s detective TV show Columbo.

The Stats:

Views This Week: 318
Total Views: 101,540
Total Subscribers: 247
Most Popular Post: Happy Birthday Jack Lemmon

This week on Wasp & Pear on tumblr, I covered the topics that are de riguer: classic Hollywood photographs, vintage Seattle photographs, photographs of abandoned places and the art of Warhol, Lichtenstein and Klee.  I also celebrated the birthdays of James Michener and Norman Rockwell as well as celebrated the reopening of Bauhaus Books & Coffee.

The Stats:

Posts This Week: 49
Total Posts: 1,675
Total Subscribers: 153
New Subscribers: 1
Most Popular Post: West Side Story: Original Broadway Cast Album (still, I know)

This week over on RRCD, the Tumblr blog I manage for all of Rick’s paintings, I posted three new paintings and added a link to his ETSY page for sales. I will be posting all new photographs taken with a considerably better quality camera. You should check out The Art of Ricardo Romero Cortez Duque and follow him if you are a tumblr type.

This week on @TheRealSPA on twitter, I apparently appreciated my @UBER ride more than I remember and declared my love for it on Friday. #HomeSafe I tweeted an Instagram photo of the crowds at Westlake Station after the @Seahawks parade (it was crazy). #12thMan #700000thMan I (tried) to remind everyone that @Oprah told us YERS AGO to stop using our phones while driving. #HandsFree I tweeted a lot of photos of Rick’s paintings.

The Stats:

Following: 285
Followers: 71
Tweets: 720

 here is where i’m @:

I chronicle what inspires me at Waldina.com
I faceplace at facebook.com/parkeranderson
I store my selfies at instagram.com/therealspa#
I tumblr at waspandpear.tumblr.com/
I tweet at twitter.com/TheRealSPA
I ADN at alpha.app.net/spa

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S and R, Then and Now.

Today is Valentine’s Day.  I first met my valentine 20 years ago today.  We were both young guys kicking around the city.  I dug through the archives and found the first mention of our meeting and interaction.  So, here is the TRANSCRIPT from that portion of my life:

14 February 1993: Then on Friday evening, I went over to Scotty’s house to go to a party. Everyone was there. I had way too much to drink and then went to QFC to buy more beer.

Back at the party, we drank for a while and then I got talked into going dancing with a guy named Rick and a few others. I went and had a blast. Then we all piled into the car and went back to the party, by this time it must have been at least 4:00 am.

21 February 1993: Last night I went to the Vogue. Rick was there.

22 February 1993: Rick called yesterday. We are going to go out some time this week.

28 February 1993: On Thursday, I went to ReBar with Scotty. We sat out in the parking lot and split a 40. We felt very Bremerton. Then we had a few more once we got inside.
Rick was there, he looked very good as usual.

I went to Ashlee‘s apartment on Saturday and from there we went to the Frontier Room. Somewhere along our way to the Vogue, Ashlee picked up two boys. They’re in a band (who isn’t?). Rick was there.

20 March 1993: Thursday night I was a drunken mess. Rebar should be renamed “ReBlur.”

From then on, there is no more mention of Rick in the archives. Amazing to think that from that brief interaction 20 years ago, we reconnected and have made our relationship into what it is today. It says a lot about timing, I guess.

One of the first gifts I gave Rick was a book of Pablo Neruda‘s poems with this one bookmarked:

Sonnet XVII - Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Here are some of the photos taken over the last few years.

On Valentine’s Day, I quite often think about poems and letters and there are a few favorites that I have remembered over the years.  One being the above poem and another being the many many love letters between the Fitzgeralds.  Zelda Fitzgerald, née Sayre, was F. Scott Fitzgerald‘s great muse and more. He modeled many of his characters after her, and he even included lines in his books that were from letters that Zelda had written him.

The two went on their first date on her 18th birthday. Her family was wary of him, and she wouldn’t marry him until his first novel was actually published. Zelda was still 18 when she wrote this letter to Scott in the spring of 1919:

“Sweetheart,

Please, please don’t be so depressed — We’ll be married soon, and then these lonesome nights will be over forever — Maybe you won’t understand this, but sometimes when I miss you most, it’s hardest to write — and you always know when I make myself — Just the ache of it all — and I can’t tell you.

How can you think deliberately of life without me — If you should die — O Darling — darling Scott — It’d be like going blind. I know I would, too, — I’d have no purpose in life — just a pretty — decoration. Don’t you think I was made for you? I feel like you had me ordered — and I was delivered to you — to be worn — I want you to wear me, like a watch-charm or a buttonhole bouquet — to the world. And then, when we’re alone, I want to help — to know that you can’t do anything without me.

One week after This Side of Paradise appeared in print, Zelda and Scott got married at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City. They became known as the quintessential Jazz Age couple: beautiful, flashy, with money, and often drunk in public. The year they married, Zelda wrote to Scott:

“I look down the tracks and see you coming — and out of every haze & mist your darling rumpled trouser are hurrying to me — Without you, dearest dearest, I couldn’t see or hear or feel or think — or live — I love you so and I’m never in all our lives going to let us be apart another night. It’s like begging for mercy of a storm or killing Beauty or growing old, without you.

Lover, Lover, Darling — Your Wife”

S and R, Then and Now.

Two years ago, Rick and I ran into each other again after meeting 19 years earlier. I dug through the archives and found the first mention of our meeting and interaction. It is cute, by no means long lost lovers separated by time, distance, a world war, or anything of that magnitude. I was 23, kicking around the big city, crossing paths with people at various bars, clubs, and cafes. So, here is the TRANSCRIPT from that portion of my life:

14 February 1993: Then on Friday evening, I went over to Scotty’s house to go to a party. Everyone was there. I had way too much to drink and then went to QFC to buy more beer.

Back at the party, we drank for a while and then I got talked into going dancing with a guy named Rick and a few others. I went and had a blast. Then we all piled into the car and went back to the party, by this time it must have been at least 4:00 am.

21 February 1993: Last night I went to the Vogue. Rick was there.

22 February 1993: Rick called yesterday. We are going to go out some time this week.

28 February 1993: On Thursday, I went to ReBar with Scotty. We sat out in the parking lot and split a 40. We felt very Bremerton. Then we had a few more once we got inside.
Rick was there, he looked very good as usual.

I went to Ashlee‘s apartment on Saturday and from there we went to the Frontier Room. Somewhere along our way to the Vogue, Ashlee picked up two boys. They’re in a band (who isn’t?). Rick was there.

20 March 1993: Thursday night I was a drunken mess. Rebar should be renamed “ReBlur.”

From then on, there is no more mention of Rick in the archives. Amazing to think that from that brief interaction 17 years ago, we reconnected and have made our relationship into what it is today. It says a lot about timing, I guess.

Here are some of the photos taken over the last two years.