August 17, 2014

Suffice it to say he was an extraordinary artist

I, myself, don't care for stand-up comedy (in his case, because I could never keep
up with his rapid-fire repartee!), but I was aware that he was a superb comic and
that many others enjoyed that side of him.

(And remember that Bogart, Bette Davis, Clark Gable, even Gary Cooper had
their share of bombs!)

August 14, 2014

Stunning Mount Tam video-- a soothing reflection of Marin County

http://vimeo.com/103249543

The Bay Area is famous for its dense fog, and when you're in it the fog is cold and grey. But there's another side to the fog and the only way to see what happens when it fully comes in and blankets the SF Bay Area at night is to be above it. Because Mt. Tam is closed to everyone but rangers and fire lookout volunteers after sunset, very few people have ever seen the majestically mysterious vapors of the Pacific ocean as it flows in to completely cover the Bay. What starts as a partial blanket quickly rushes in to fill the gaps and by 1am, the lights of the cities below eventually become completely smothered. Because this specific night (8/9/2014) was a 96% full moon, the top of the fog and the slopes of Mt. Tam were fully illuminated by silvery-blue light and the only traces of humanity left were aeronautical... the lights at the summit of Mt. Diablo, the FAA radome on Tam's West Peak, and the jets that are guided by that radome's radar safely through the fog.

From Gary Yost

August 13, 2014

Your reaction is normal

I feel that way sometimes, too. I mean, he had all the resources in the world-- wasn't there
some therapist that could have helped him? And yet, who among us hasn't thought (however
fleetingly) of ending it all? Even in Hamlet, there's the famous second soliloquy:

To be, or not to be--that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them.
To die, to sleep-- No more--and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep--
To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause.

I'm also deeply saddened that he must have suffered so profoundly all this time-- after a
lifetime of giving us joy-- 40 years-- but he couldn't find it himself. That's wrenching.