Relevant to the part of my Jan. 20 post (http://ethanremmel.blogspot.com/2011/01/random-rantings.html) about originalism and my disagreement with it, there is an article by Jill Lepore in the Jan. 17 issue of "The New Yorker" (which I just read - I'm a little behind) about constitutional interpretation and originalism vs. the liberal/progressive "living Constitution" alternative (our side needs a catchy name - part of our problem):
http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/atlarge/2011/01/17/110117crat_atlarge_lepore
On a less serious note, the World Champion San Francisco Giants star relief pitcher and known eccentric Brian "Fear the Beard" Wilson recently appeared on the George Lopez TV show and demonstrated his Will Ferrell-esque sense of humor (thanks Andy Bunn for the tip):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zC52rkgkNgU
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Eric and "Donald"
Eric sent me a copy of his new book "Donald" (http://www.amazon.com/Donald-Eric-Martin/dp/1936365251). The cover illustration is by our Australian friend Simon Rippingale and plays off the cover of Donald Rumsfeld's memoir "Known and Unknown."
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Seth, basketball
Seth's first game of the season was this morning. We don't keep score at the YMCA, but Seth played well. Lynn attended and took some pictures and videos with my camera (thanks Lynn!).
Pics: http://remmel.shutterfly.com/2403
Videos: http://myweb.facstaff.wwu.edu/remmele/seth
Ethan
Pics: http://remmel.shutterfly.com/2403
Videos: http://myweb.facstaff.wwu.edu/remmele/seth
Ethan
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Comments
I would like to thank everyone who has posted comments on the blog. I really enjoy reading people's comments, so thank you!
I deleted my recent post about Burning Man just because I decided that I was a little self-conscious about having a half-naked picture of me covered in mud circulating in digital perpetuity. Especially since I've claimed that I'm glad that our generation's youthful indiscretions were not recorded online. Anyway, y'all got a chance to see it. I've got lots more funny pics from our past, but I think they'll stay in my photo albums. You'll have to visit if you want to see them!
I added the copyright notice to the top of the blog on the recommendation of the editor at a magazine where I may publish some version of some of this material as a blog on their website. I'll let you know if/when that happens.
Ethan
I deleted my recent post about Burning Man just because I decided that I was a little self-conscious about having a half-naked picture of me covered in mud circulating in digital perpetuity. Especially since I've claimed that I'm glad that our generation's youthful indiscretions were not recorded online. Anyway, y'all got a chance to see it. I've got lots more funny pics from our past, but I think they'll stay in my photo albums. You'll have to visit if you want to see them!
I added the copyright notice to the top of the blog on the recommendation of the editor at a magazine where I may publish some version of some of this material as a blog on their website. I'll let you know if/when that happens.
Ethan
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Giving up
Victor Frankl is right (see post from January 16) - one can have moments of joy in the midst of suffering. I had a happy moment last night. I was sitting on the red loveseat. Miles was sitting next to me and Grace was sitting on the other side of him. We were watching one of Miles's DVDs (They Might Be Giants 1-2-3). Seth climbed into my lap. I felt his weight and smelled his hair. I was happy.
But does the possibility of happy moments justify enduring any amount of suffering? I don't think so. When the ratio of painful moments to happy ones reaches some point, I think it's acceptable to decide that this quality of life isn't worth it. I don't know where that point is and I'm reluctant to make that decision because, at least for now, it feels like giving up and I don't want my sons to ever think that I gave up. I don't want them to ever give up on themselves, so how could I justify giving up on myself?
But is accepting the inevitable really giving up? I think that's an unfortunate implication of the "battle" metaphor for dealing with terminal illness. This isn't really a battle. At least, it's not a fair battle. I've been told in advance that I can't win.
But what is winning? It's not living forever. I think it's dying well. But what is dying well? I think it's living well as long as possible.
That makes sense to me, but it's hard to live well when you feel sick all the time. And so I go, round in circles...
Ethan
But does the possibility of happy moments justify enduring any amount of suffering? I don't think so. When the ratio of painful moments to happy ones reaches some point, I think it's acceptable to decide that this quality of life isn't worth it. I don't know where that point is and I'm reluctant to make that decision because, at least for now, it feels like giving up and I don't want my sons to ever think that I gave up. I don't want them to ever give up on themselves, so how could I justify giving up on myself?
But is accepting the inevitable really giving up? I think that's an unfortunate implication of the "battle" metaphor for dealing with terminal illness. This isn't really a battle. At least, it's not a fair battle. I've been told in advance that I can't win.
But what is winning? It's not living forever. I think it's dying well. But what is dying well? I think it's living well as long as possible.
That makes sense to me, but it's hard to live well when you feel sick all the time. And so I go, round in circles...
Ethan
Sadness
It has not been a fun few days. I have had a constant stomachache, which makes it hard to enjoy anything. Combined with the constant fatigue, low-level bone pain, numbness in my feet, bloody nose, etc., it's getting me pretty down. It's amazing how quickly things can change. One week ago, last Tuesday, the day before chemo, I felt pretty good. I played basketball and was making plans for months away. Now I'm struggling to get out of bed and starting to fantasize about stopping treatment and letting things take their course. Chemotherapy is disgusting. Over the past couple days I read the book "Dying well: The prospect for growth at the end of life" by Ira Byock, president of the American Academy of Hospice and Palliative Medicine. I'm not sure that helped my mood any. One of the themes of the book is making peace and letting go when your time comes. I'm not there yet. I'm not at peace with dying now. I don't feel like this is the right time for me. It's certainly not the right time for my kids. It makes me really sad.
Another of the book's themes is the importance of repairing relationships and offering and accepting forgiveness for past wrongs. Fortunately I don't feel like that applies much to me. I'm not estranged from any family or friends. Quite the opposite - I feel wonderfully supported by my family and friends.
Another theme is the importance of accepting care from others without feeling like that is degrading or undignified. I struggle with that. I don't want to be a burden to my loved ones, even though I know they want to care for me. It's helpful to remember that I would want to care for them if the positions were reversed.
Yesterday it rained all day, which also didn't help my mood. I basically rested during the day, trying to store up energy for having Seth in the afternoon and evening. We had basketball practice at the YMCA, which was fun even though I wasn't feeling well. We have a good group of kids, many of the same kids from last year's team. I like working with kids, which is one reason I went into developmental psychology. And I like teaching and seeing the kids start to understand and use the things we are trying to teach them. It makes me realize how much I miss my professional role as a teacher. And I love to watch Seth run and play and have fun.
After practice Seth and I met Grace and Miles for dinner at La Fiamma Wood Fire Pizza. Grace and I shared our favorite pizza - the Sofia (prosciutto, rosemary, red onion). Afterward I dropped off Seth with Lynn and then went straight to bed for 12 hours.
Today I rested and read in the morning. In the afternoon I made myself get up, go outside, and finish pruning the fruit trees. It was warm and overcast, although the sun peeked through the clouds occasionally. The grass has started growing. Will I have to mow in January?
After finishing the pruning and returning Gene's orchard ladder (thanks Gene!), I decided to take my favorite walk around the boardwalk. The clouds were clearing, the sun was low in the sky, and it was really pretty. However, I was overcome with a wave of sadness. Tears were streaming down my face and my body was shaking with sobs. I averted my face as I passed people because I didn't want them to see my red splotchy face and runny nose. I walked down to the little floating dock (where Andy Bunn once picked me up in his sailboat on a happy summer day) and sat at the edge. The way the water rippled in the light, the cry of the seagulls, and the slight rocking motion reminded me of Maine. Sometimes when I think about the fact that I may never see Maine again it makes me so sad that my chest hurts and I can barely breathe. At that moment, however, thinking about Maine calmed me down. I closed my eyes and felt the light breeze on my face. I opened my eyes and dipped my fingers in the water. I thought about the fact that all the world's oceans are connected, and so in a way I was touching the water in Maine.
Ethan
Another of the book's themes is the importance of repairing relationships and offering and accepting forgiveness for past wrongs. Fortunately I don't feel like that applies much to me. I'm not estranged from any family or friends. Quite the opposite - I feel wonderfully supported by my family and friends.
Another theme is the importance of accepting care from others without feeling like that is degrading or undignified. I struggle with that. I don't want to be a burden to my loved ones, even though I know they want to care for me. It's helpful to remember that I would want to care for them if the positions were reversed.
Yesterday it rained all day, which also didn't help my mood. I basically rested during the day, trying to store up energy for having Seth in the afternoon and evening. We had basketball practice at the YMCA, which was fun even though I wasn't feeling well. We have a good group of kids, many of the same kids from last year's team. I like working with kids, which is one reason I went into developmental psychology. And I like teaching and seeing the kids start to understand and use the things we are trying to teach them. It makes me realize how much I miss my professional role as a teacher. And I love to watch Seth run and play and have fun.
After practice Seth and I met Grace and Miles for dinner at La Fiamma Wood Fire Pizza. Grace and I shared our favorite pizza - the Sofia (prosciutto, rosemary, red onion). Afterward I dropped off Seth with Lynn and then went straight to bed for 12 hours.
Today I rested and read in the morning. In the afternoon I made myself get up, go outside, and finish pruning the fruit trees. It was warm and overcast, although the sun peeked through the clouds occasionally. The grass has started growing. Will I have to mow in January?
After finishing the pruning and returning Gene's orchard ladder (thanks Gene!), I decided to take my favorite walk around the boardwalk. The clouds were clearing, the sun was low in the sky, and it was really pretty. However, I was overcome with a wave of sadness. Tears were streaming down my face and my body was shaking with sobs. I averted my face as I passed people because I didn't want them to see my red splotchy face and runny nose. I walked down to the little floating dock (where Andy Bunn once picked me up in his sailboat on a happy summer day) and sat at the edge. The way the water rippled in the light, the cry of the seagulls, and the slight rocking motion reminded me of Maine. Sometimes when I think about the fact that I may never see Maine again it makes me so sad that my chest hurts and I can barely breathe. At that moment, however, thinking about Maine calmed me down. I closed my eyes and felt the light breeze on my face. I opened my eyes and dipped my fingers in the water. I thought about the fact that all the world's oceans are connected, and so in a way I was touching the water in Maine.
Ethan
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Sunday evening update
Friday was a milestone day - Seth attended his new school for the full day for the first time! Lynn and I celebrated with him in the evening. We went to a storytellers event at the Fairhaven Library, which Seth enjoyed, and then had dessert at Big Fat Fish Company. Seth had Meyer lemon cheesecake, Lynn had flourless chocolate torte, and I had Bailey's Irish Creme creme brulee - all yummy.
Saturday morning Seth and I had basketball practice at the YMCA. Seth had some nice passes and a beautiful driving layup. He is a coordinated kid.
Unfortunately I was then hit with fatigue and a severe stomachache so the rest of the day was a struggle for me, trying to be "on" as a dad. In the afternoon I took Seth to an electronics workshop at the Museum of Radio and Electricity, which was good because Seth was entertained and I could rest. The kids took apart and examined old electronic devices. Afterward Seth and I explored the museum, which is pretty cool. Tesla coil, voice oscilloscope, theremin, hand-crank generator, Leyden jars, etc.
After Lynn picked up Seth this morning to go skiing, I went back to bed until almost noon. I woke up to a sunny warm day. I spent the afternoon pruning the fruit trees in the yard. I finished pruning the pear tree and one of the apple trees. Last year was the first year that I didn't prune the trees, although I think it was probably fine for them to have a break. I enjoy this job, although I felt a wave of sadness today as I thought about the chances that I will be around to harvest the fruit later this year.
I was up in the pear tree and I heard a buzzing sound approaching. A little hummingbird flew up and landed on a branch a few feet from me. His body was iridescent green and when he moved his head I could see bright iridescent pink feathers around his throat. He opened his beak and sang a little song and then flew off. I said "thank you" aloud.
The daffodils are starting to sprout and it's only January! When we first moved here, they sprouted in April. It's been getting earlier every year. Global warming, I guess.
Over the years I have looked at and considered every limb and branch of these trees. It reminds me of when Eric was here and we were looking at Seth's Legos, many of which are my old Legos that Eric and I played with when were kids, and Eric commented that we must have looked at and considered the possibilities of every single one of these pieces at some point.
Speaking of Legos, Miles is getting more coordinated with them. The other day he built an airplane that actually looked like an airplane. Miles continues to be a joy. He is so full of positive energy. Even when he protests something he is cute. He makes us all laugh.
Grace has cooked delicious dinners every night since my mom left (OK, we got Thai take-out one night). Tonight was tortellini with proscuitto and spinach. Last night was bison meatloaf, mashed potatoes, salad, and I made my cheesy cauliflower, which both boys like. Thank you Grace!
Ethan
Saturday morning Seth and I had basketball practice at the YMCA. Seth had some nice passes and a beautiful driving layup. He is a coordinated kid.
Unfortunately I was then hit with fatigue and a severe stomachache so the rest of the day was a struggle for me, trying to be "on" as a dad. In the afternoon I took Seth to an electronics workshop at the Museum of Radio and Electricity, which was good because Seth was entertained and I could rest. The kids took apart and examined old electronic devices. Afterward Seth and I explored the museum, which is pretty cool. Tesla coil, voice oscilloscope, theremin, hand-crank generator, Leyden jars, etc.
After Lynn picked up Seth this morning to go skiing, I went back to bed until almost noon. I woke up to a sunny warm day. I spent the afternoon pruning the fruit trees in the yard. I finished pruning the pear tree and one of the apple trees. Last year was the first year that I didn't prune the trees, although I think it was probably fine for them to have a break. I enjoy this job, although I felt a wave of sadness today as I thought about the chances that I will be around to harvest the fruit later this year.
I was up in the pear tree and I heard a buzzing sound approaching. A little hummingbird flew up and landed on a branch a few feet from me. His body was iridescent green and when he moved his head I could see bright iridescent pink feathers around his throat. He opened his beak and sang a little song and then flew off. I said "thank you" aloud.
The daffodils are starting to sprout and it's only January! When we first moved here, they sprouted in April. It's been getting earlier every year. Global warming, I guess.
Over the years I have looked at and considered every limb and branch of these trees. It reminds me of when Eric was here and we were looking at Seth's Legos, many of which are my old Legos that Eric and I played with when were kids, and Eric commented that we must have looked at and considered the possibilities of every single one of these pieces at some point.
Speaking of Legos, Miles is getting more coordinated with them. The other day he built an airplane that actually looked like an airplane. Miles continues to be a joy. He is so full of positive energy. Even when he protests something he is cute. He makes us all laugh.
Grace has cooked delicious dinners every night since my mom left (OK, we got Thai take-out one night). Tonight was tortellini with proscuitto and spinach. Last night was bison meatloaf, mashed potatoes, salad, and I made my cheesy cauliflower, which both boys like. Thank you Grace!
Ethan
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