Category Archives: RIP

A good man, a good American. Plus he cleaned up the Hudson River

Like the great troubadours before him, he loved his nation and its people. He loved justice, the earth that nourishes us and he loved music.

And this is how a pro wraps up a career – with Bruce at his side!

And this is from the 1950’s (Seeger in the foreground):

RIP old man.

He believed in our better natures

“Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies.”

“A leader. . .is like a shepherd. He stays behind the flock, letting the most nimble Nelson Mandela6a00d83451f25369e200e54f0c830c8833-800winelson_mandela-               go out ahead, whereupon the others follow, not realizing that all along they are being directed from behind.”

“I am not saint, unless you think of a saint as a sinner who keeps on trying.”

“No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.”

“Overcoming poverty is not a task of charity, it is an act of justice”

MANDELA6X432(Sharing the Nobel Peace Prize with his one time jailer, South African President de Klerk.)

Ah . . . another one

Lou Reed? Dammit.

RIP to good old Jack Germond

The real Lou Grant – but with lots of booze, horses and cigars. I always liked this guy . . . lookee’ here: from The McLaughlin Group in 1994:

William “Bill” Louis Tchakirides, May 24, 1946 – April 27, 2013

Blog friend Bill Tchakirides of Under The Lobster Scope fought the good fight. His wife posted this on Sunday. Go in peace, friend, go in peace.

Under The LobsterScope

Bill Tchakirides age 66, retired, of Shepherdstown, West Virginia died peacefullySaturday, April 27. Bill was born May 24, 1946 in Waterbury, CT, the son of the late William Tchakirides and Doris (Barsale) Tchakirides, formerly of Bristol and Farmington, CT, now residing in Manassas, VA. Bill is survived by his wife Ellen Louise Smith of Shepherdstown, WV and by his children Cassandra Corrigan and husband Matthew Corrigan of Manchester, CT; Penelope Cantor of Williamsport, MD; William “Buddy” Tchakirides and wife Rachel Neal-Tchakirides of Milwaukee, WI; five grandchildren, John, Milo, Jason, Aden and Jacob; his sister Ellen Forbes Gerhard and husband Jeff Lychwick of Gainesville, VA and several nieces and nephews.

Bill was proud of being a father, a grandfather and a liberal.  He was an artist and a patron of the arts.  Of the baby boom generation, he worked as a Stage Director, Network Manager, College and Prep School Teacher…

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So long to a lovely guy. Rest in peace Richie.

Once more, Ebert . . .

“Kindness’ covers all of my political beliefs. No need to spell them out. I believe that if, at the end, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn’t always know this and am happy I lived long enough to find it out.”

I’m adding this to my QUOTES page right now. At The Week, they’ve compiled more Ebert quotes.

An elegant and kind man with a poet’s touch

roger_ebertRoger Ebert, who died yesterday, began blogging in earnest some years back after cancer robbed him of speech. He racked up millions of hits and every post generated hundreds of comments.  I’ve written about him a few times. From March of 2010:

I discovered his blog a few months ago and was enchanted – a fine writer, a profoundly human man and very very brave. He’s wasting away from cancer – can no longer speak or eat. He doesn’t even have a jaw anymore. And yet he blogs. And he cares. And he has his finger on the pulse of the humanity that is us. I wish I knew him.

Roger Ebert’s Journal was much more than movies; while he chronicled the challenges of his illness he also wrote – always elegantly – of so many other things – of politics, music, art, children and cooking.

He and I were born in the same year, so when he wrote of his own youth, which he often did – as often happens with those battling terminal illnesses – I went back in time with him. Like in this passage from a very recent post titled “How I am a Roman Catholic”:

The nuns at St. Mary’s were Dominicans. They lived in a small square convent behind the school, holding six nuns (some taught two grades) and a cook and their housekeeping nun, who kept a sharp eye trained on us through her screen door. We had humble playground equipment, a swing set and two basketball hoops. Our principal sport was playing King of the World. This involved two boys standing on a log, each trying to push the other off. The housekeeper would open the screen door and shout, “If you break your necks, you have only yourselves to blame.”

It was from these nuns, especially Sister Nathan and Sister Rosanne, that I learned my core moral and political principles. I assumed they were Roman Catholic dogma. Many of them involved a Social Contract between God and man, which represented classical liberalism based on empathy and economic fairness. We heard much of Leo XIII’s encyclical “Rerum Novarum”–“On Capital and Labor.”

I’ll miss him and his writing but I’ll go back now and again to the archives. There is wisdom there.

Michelle comes to a logical conclusion.

First, RIP Gore Vidal, perhaps the last of this country’s ‘public intellectuals’: where are the likes of Buckley, Hitchens, Vidal? A brilliant mind, a brilliant wit, painfully honest and deeply patriotic –  and a wonderful writer.

Here’s Michelle Bachmann today telling her Gore Vidal story:

“It’s very interesting because I had been a Democrats — and I’d actually worked on Jimmy Carter’s campaign. And I was reading a novel by Gore Vidal, and when I was reading it he was mocking the Founding Fathers. And all of a sudden it just occurred to me: I set the book down on my lap, I looked out the window of a train I was riding in, and I thought to myself, ‘I don’t think I’m a Democrat. I think I really am a Republican.’ Because the Founding Fathers were not the characters that I saw Gore Vidal portraying in his novel.”

For the good Congresswoman, that apparently passes for actual reasoning.

RIP Ray Bradbury

He gave us so much to think about while being one of the best tellers of stories ever. So adieu to Ray Bradbury. Well done.

Thanks for Fahrenheit 451. Thanks for The Martian Chronicles. Thanks for The Illustrated Man. Thanks for all of it.

Memory at my age is imperfect, but I think I met the man about 40 years ago when I accompanied my boyfriend of the day to Bradbury’s home in Woodstock NY where he was to interview him. But like I said, memory is imperfect. (Stay tuned. I may get confirmation either way by email.)