Time Takes A Toll

As the years pass, from some point in our childhood, we realize that we all share a common fate that will take life from us. That fate befalls some far too early, but it will befall all of us. When we are 20, it all seems far off and generally incomprehensible. But then the decades tick by almost like they are singular years and our appearance changes more and more as we journey toward our end. It scares most of us, probably all of us. Some seek refuge in religion, but that can't save us from our inevitable destiny. We ache, we hobble, we're unsteady, we get dizzy, we tremble, we see spots before our eyes, we have to listen more closely to hear things, and there are any number of other things. 

 

If we're lucky, as time ticks onward, no matter how much we wish it were not the case, the people close to us in our lives pass on in predictable order; that is, great grandparents (also great-great aunts and uncles), grandparents (also great aunts and uncles), parents (also aunts and uncles). Of course, this is idealistic in many ways, as I'd guess few people experience such an orderly passing of their family members, let alone the passing of neighbors or the people they grew up with or those they came to know closely or perhaps just as basic acquaintances. Deaths of people in our lives hurt, even if they are "expected," but they both stun and hurt a lot more when they come at us out of nowhere. As we lose people in our lives, we hear the footsteps of life's worst bogeyman, "Death," as the footsteps tail us from some distance, but they always keep gaining on us, as the footsteps grow ever louder and they draw closer and closer. When will death catch us?

Like other people, I've had the ugly shock of unexpected deaths of people in my lifetime, but two of those deaths hit me especially hard and made me face something that I'd tried to ignore ... the footsteps were getting closer. When I was 50, one of those deaths was of a former boss named Al who was about 4 years older than me. He dropped dead in the shower at his home as he got ready to go to work one morning. I saw the death notice for him in the newspaper, and while I'm sure I knew the truth, I later called his secretary to have her confirm it to me. That's was how I learned what had happened to him. A few years later, I saw an even more terrifying obituary, an obituary for Joe, one of my best friends from childhood. Al's death really hurt, but Joe's death was a full scale wallop that shook me to the core. When we were in our early 30s, Joe was tremendously stressed over the possible permanent loss of his job, due to steel plant closings during the 1980s. I still recall him telling me back then, "Remember when we were kids? We didn't have to worry about earning a living, because that worry was with our parents. Our biggest worry was to have enough money to buy a new wiffle ball and our next bottle of pop."* Learning of Joe's death was almost too painful to deal with, and there are no medicines for such pain.  

 

We wish we had one more time with so many of those who have passed from our lives; one more time to tell them something special, one more time to give them the hug we wished we had given them before they were gone and the footsteps behind us grew louder.  

 

* A wiffle ball was/is a baseball type ball of plastic, with holes in its surface. Because it was made of plastic, it wasn't much of a threat to do damage to property, like vehicles or windows, so it could be used just about anywhere, which was naturally not the same with a regular baseball. Of course, as kids, we were innovative. A wiffle ball didn't always hold up very well, so we wrapped them in various types of tape to make them last longer, but that also made them somewhat heavier, which made them travel further, and it also could make them more likely to put at least a mark on a car or "perhaps" even crack a window. Wiffle ball was VERY popular in our neighborhood and we played in the schoolyard, a churchyard, alleys, streets and playgrounds. It was also pretty thrifty, as you only needed the plastic bat, the ball (with tape, although you could get by without it) and whatever you could scrounge up to use for bases, and they didn't have to be pretty. And pop, or soda pop to some, was typically sold in bottles back then, not cans.   

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Destiny (Destine)-The main body of this word is related to a large number of words like: "station," "statue," the verb "stay" (meaning "remain in place, stop"), all words of Latin derivation borrowed by English from Latin-based French, to "status," a Latin word borrowed from that language, to "stand" (both the verb and the noun) and to "stead," with these words coming from the Germanic roots of English. The "de-" is a common prefix in Latin and its offspring languages, related through Indo European to English "to" and "too," which go back to the Germanic roots of English. "De-" goes back to Indo European "de," with a wide range of meanings like, "stemming or coming from, because of/by reason of (both closely connected to "stemming/coming from"), from, down from," and this gave Latin "de," generally meaning "from, down from, about, concerning." The main body of "destiny" goes back to Indo European "sta/steh," which meant, "to stand, to be in place, to be firm (that is, "in place")," with the extended form "steno." This gave Latin "stinare," meaning, "to fix in place," and with the prefix this gave Latin "destinare," meaning "to establish, to set securely in place, to make firm." This passed to Latin-based Old French as "destiner," meaning "to set in place or occur (by fate or deities)," and its past participle (feminine), "destinée," was used as a noun for "fate" ("that which is intended to happen"). English borrowed the word in the 1300s from French as "destine," before "destiny," and with the same meaning, generally more concisely as, "predetermined outcome. "English also borrowed the verb from French "destiner" as "destinen," meaning "to predetermine by way of some intention by fate or deities," and "to predetermine," as in, "The starlet is destined for tremendous fame" (that is, she is so good, fame is already determined; it is inevitable, her destination is fame), and further in meaning, "an intended purpose or goal," as in, "The terrible storm forced the closing of roads and we had been destined for the beach."  

Life Gets Us Ready to Die

Great American writer, William Faulkner, wrote in his book, "As I Lay Dying:" "the reason for living was to get ready to stay dead for a long time." American musician and songwriter, Warren Zevon, best known for the 1978 Top 40 hit, "Werewolves of London," released an album in 2000 entitled, "Life'll Kill Ya." The 1943 movie, "The Oxbow Incident," * featured the folk song, "Lonesome Valley," whose composer is apparently unknown, but its movie version has the lyrics, "You gotta go through the Lonesome Valley, you gotta go there by yourself, nobody here can go for you."

Our personal clock ticks away the time... tick, tick, tick. No matter how strong we are, we cannot hold back the time. Tick, tick, tick. No matter how fast we run, time always keeps up until one day, it passes us. Tick, tick, tick. No matter how smart and clever we are, time needs no schools, no teachers, no education to undo our cleverness and to outfox us. Tick, tick, tick. No matter how much we exercise, no matter how much we diet, no matter how much we try to cover or repair the damages of time, we can't halt or completely camouflage the toll time makes us pay for the right to pass. The secrets we hold, the people we have met, the people we have cared about, the people we still care about, the people we haven't told how much we care about them. The older people of our younger days have passed from the scene to make room for us, and now, we are the older people to the young, as time gradually moves them forward to replace us. Our personal clock ticks on, when will it stop? Tick, tick, tick.

* For my article on the movie, this is the link:
http://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2015/02/the-oxbow-incident-vigilantism.html

WORD HISTORY: 
Ready-This word "seems" to go back to Indo European "reidh," which meant, "to ride, to travel" (it is the ancestor of "ride"). From this came Old Germanic "garaidija," which meant, "ready to ride or travel, set to travel;" thus more generally, by extension, "fully in order, set and arranged;" that is, "ready." This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "geræde," meaning, "ready, prepared," also "prompt," likely from the notion of "no preparation needed," and "ræde," meaning, "ready to ride, mounted on a horse and ready to ride." These later became one form, "redy," before the modern version. Forms in the other Germanic languages: German has "bereit" ("ready"), Low German "rede" ("ready"), Dutch "gereed" and "bereid" (both mean "ready"), West Frisian "ree" ("ready"), Icelandic "reiðubúinn" ("ready," also in the sense "willing; that is, ready, to do;" the "ð" is called an "eth," and is essentially equivalent to "th." English once used them in the Old English period, a thousand or more years ago), Danish and Norwegian "rede," and Swedish "redo" (all mean "ready"), seem to have been borrowed from Low German, but the Swedish verb "reda," meaning, "to make ready," "apparently" is their own word. 

"Bang the Drum Slowly," Young Robert De Niro

One of my favorite movies is "Bang The Drum Slowly." When I was in college many years ago, one of the nearby movie theaters had matinee specials, I believe it was on Wednesdays. I had a long spell between classes then, and I'd frequently take in the matinee special. That's how I saw this movie. It wasn't really advertised, nor did it have any big names in starring roles (at that time), but it was about baseball, and I loved baseball; plus, if I remember right, the matinee special only cost fifty cents (remember, that was 1973 pricing and money value). One of the main actors in the movie went on to become fairly well known years later in the first several seasons of "Law and Order;" this was Michael Moriarty, who played Assistant District Attorney Ben Stone on the television series. The other main actor became a Hollywood staple and is known to anyone who hasn't been living under a rock for decades; that actor is Robert De Niro. The movie was based on a novel written in the mid 1950s by Mark Harris,* and the movie prompted me to read the book. I believe I bought it in paperback, which in those times was likely 50 or 75 cents, but don't trust my memory.

The movie centers around a mediocre major league baseball player, a catcher, Bruce Pearson, played by Robert DeNiro, who is a bit slow on the uptake, and the target of many jokes from the other players. He receives a death sentence diagnosis from doctors at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota (he is from Georgia). His roommate during the season, a star pitcher and an insurance salesman, Henry Wiggin** (played by Michael Moriarty), had accompanied Pearson to Minnesota, and he wants to give his friend a final season. Pearson's diagnosis makes Henry look at Bruce in a whole new way, causing him to forget the poorly educated farm boy, the non-hip, mismatched clothes, the poor hair style and the incessant tobacco chewing (and spitting) of the forlorn catcher. Maybe he doesn't really forget, but he comes to see that these things aren't actually so important after all, and that a hip image can't save a person from one of the experiences common to all living things .... death.

The team, from New York City, but given the fictional name, the "New York Mammoths," is expected to be one of the top teams in baseball, and a possible World Series champion. Henry, also known by the nickname, "Author," because of his writings,*** plots to keep Bruce on the team as spring training begins, and he also tries to get the players to stop making fun of Pearson, but he dares not tell them why; knowing full well that the team manager, Dutch, played by Vincent Gardenia, would never put a dying player on the roster. The thing is, by accident, Dutch hears that Pearson and Wiggin were in Minnesota over the winter, and he tries to find out why, which leads to some hilarious scenes and dialogue, as the cantankerous and dry Dutch tries to unravel the story of the two players. Yes, while the basis of the story is about a dying man, the story is also part comedy, and Vincent Gardenia was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor for his portrayal of Dutch.**** At one point, Dutch utters a great line in reference to himself, "When I die, the newspapers will write in their headlines, 'Sonofabitches of the world have lost their leader.' "

I can't go further without giving away too much of the story and, therefore, ruining the movie for those who haven't seen it. The movie combines seriousness, comedy and sadness, all in one. If I remember right, then "Today Show" movie critic, Gene Shalit, gave the movie a special mention, as a film worth seeing, even though it then had no major stars, but the movie helped showcase De Niro's and Moriarty's talents, thus aiding their careers. Check this movie out, it will make you laugh, and it just might make you shed a tear.   

*There was also a television production of the book done in the 1950s, starring a then little known actor from Cleveland ... Paul Newman.

** Remember, the book was written in the 1950s and the movie was made in the early 1970s, both before anything like the astronomical player salaries of more recent decades. Players often had, and needed, off season jobs to supplement their incomes.

*** Pearson always mistakenly calls him "Arthur."

**** Gardenia appeared occasionally on CBS's hit comedy series, "All in the Family," in those days of the early 1970s. He played Frank Lorenzo, the husband of Edith's friend and neighbor, Irene, who was a feminist and a Catholic, who drove Archie up the wall.  

Photo of the Paramount Home Entertainment DVD

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WORD HISTORY:
Death-This word is closely related to "dead" and "die," both from the Germanic roots of English, but with "die's" use in English perhaps coming from Old Norse(?) "Death" goes back to Indo European "dheu," which meant "to die." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "dauthos," which meant, "the state of being dead, not being alive, death." This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) the noun "deaþ" (þ="th"), with the same meaning. This later came to be spelled "death." Relatives in the other Germanic languages, many of which mean "dead": German "Tot," ^ Low German Saxon and Dutch "dood," West Frisian "dea," Danish and Norwegian "død," Icelandic "dauði" (ð, also essentially equivalent to "th") and Swedish "död."

^ The high Germanic dialects underwent what are called "sound shifts," and one of those shifts often made the "d" sound into a "t" sound; thus, Low German and Dutch "dood," is rendered in standard German, which is heavily based on Old High German, "Tot," a grammatically masculine noun; thus, "der Tot." Interestingly, many German dialects use the "d" spelling, with even southern Bavarian having "doud."