Old Birds

JWise Moments, Photo of the Day

Caroline Wise spinning fiber to make yarn in Phoenix, Arizona

There’s a sense of delight when you look at the person you fell in love with so many years ago and take a moment to realize how deeply you are still enamored with countless aspects of who they are. There is not one thing or even a multitude of qualities I could pin my affection on regarding how I feel for Caroline. When I found myself lost in how the light was falling on her hair, shirt, and face with her gaze focused on what she was doing, I smiled inside and, in an instant, sighed upon the realization of how familiar I am with how her hands work at spinning yarn, typing, turning a page, holding a seashell, or reaching for my hand. I smiled at the single headphone in her ear as she was listening to an audiobook while the other dangled to the side so she could hear me if I talked to her. Her glasses are probably dirty because that’s their normal state, but that won’t stop her from looking up to glance at me occasionally and offer me a big warm smile with eyes that say, I love you.

As much as she appreciates putzing around at home on the weekend, Caroline also enjoys just hanging out with me, savoring her iced coffee with a splash of oat milk, joining in on the occasional conversation I strike up with people, and playing with whatever craft she’s brought along. The Fitbit on her left wrist reminds me that we were out walking earlier and that we’ll be walking again after dinner, as we probably get about 75% of our 10,000 steps a day walking together, often hand in hand. The blouse she’s wearing is a recent acquisition from Mexico because, for the past year, she’s been absolutely in love with clothes from the Mayan region of Chiapas, Mexico. Had this been 20 years ago, she might have been wearing a salwar kameez or kurti (Hindu shirt), as my wife has never been one to care about fitting in with the hip crowd while being appreciative of the diversity of global culture.

During the times we are apart, though we are never really apart because Skype is always open, so we can reach out and nudge one another with a hug or expression of love, we are still connected even if nothing is shared. There’s something about our relationship that seems to have grown in its symbiotic nature, as though we are becoming conjoined. This has me thinking about how albatrosses can spend years learning to cooperate before becoming mates for life; maybe that’s what Caroline and I are like. I was talking with ChatGPT about this, and it shared, “Albatross courtship is quite elaborate and can involve synchronized flying, mutual preening, and a variety of calls and displays. These rituals are important for forming strong pair bonds that can last a lifetime.” It also pointed out how albatrosses can spend 50 or more years together and that the oldest wild albatross, at 70 years old, is still rearing chicks, meaning it and its lifelong mate are still bonded. Yep, we are like a couple of old birds.

Winter Bed / Summer Bed

JWise Life

Futon guts from Futon Favorite in Phoenix, Arizona

Today, on the momentous day of taking possession of a brand new futon mattress to replace our well-worn antique, I thought I’d let you in on the nature of our sleep experience. While our travels are shared on a frequent basis, an accounting of the many hours spent horizontally has been neglected, so this is my attempt to repair that. I recently ordered a new mattress from the same guy at Futon Favorite who made our previous one, Tom Flower. I have to mention Tom because he’s the only person in Arizona handmaking these futons, and what’s more, he let me have a peek into the process. Caroline and I don’t care a hoot about box springs or memory foam and would prefer that there’s not a hint of polyester or flame retardant anywhere near our sleeping heads. Do you want cotton batting, be it organic or otherwise, double wool lining or other special requests? Futon Favorites has you covered.

Futon Favorite in Phoenix, Arizona

Somehow, our previous mattress lasted for 16 years, or maybe I should say that it existed as it should have been replaced a few years ago, but circumstances regarding where we’d be putting our heads to rest were in question, so we held out. With our backs paying the price for that delay, it finally was time to act. After having the incredible good fortune of watching Tom build one of these, I need to point out that he says I’m the very first person afforded that opportunity. Later, I was able to transport our new futon home and, with considerable difficulty, drag our old, much heavier mattress to the trash before setting up our beautiful new bed. Onward to how we dress this thing.

Bedding

Caroline and I use two configurations, one for winter and one for summer. No matter which version is currently being utilized, our bed is the coziest bed we could ever imagine and has been so forever. Well, there is one phase that is less than optimal, and that’s the one we are in now, transitioning from winter to summer. The major highlight of our seasonal shift from the hot Arizona summer to even slightly chilly evenings is when we can bring out our goose-down comforter. It gets stuffed into a jacquard loom woven flax/linen duvet cover from Portugal while our futon is covered with a flax/linen sheet used instead of a cotton sheet. Our pillowcases are handsewn by Caroline of some beautiful cotton fabric we found while out traveling. Our current set of pillowcases was made of two different fabrics, both with an ocean motif. The two sides of the pillowcase are on the left, and on the right is our blue linen duvet, and the comforter is next to it

During the winter, the heater is never needed, even when the place dips below about 55 degrees (about 13c), because we have gloves and sweaters to deal with the cold. We have a space heater in the bathroom for warming it while we’re in the shower, should you be wondering.

Linen sheet and blanket

Here in the transition zone, we only reluctantly give up the comforter while considering using the air conditioning to chill the place so it is still comfortable in our cozy nest of a bed. Being rational about the amount of electricity we use, we eschew the idea and, with heavy hearts, place the comforter in a corner near the bed just in case we find ourselves too cold to sleep well. In our spring-and-summer configuration, the linen sheet we sleep on remains the same, but now the Tischdecke is brought out of the cabinet it’s been hibernating in. “Tischdecke” is German for tablecloth, and that’s exactly what this linen blanket feels like for the first weeks. The heft of the comforter is sorely missed, but as our place starts warming with the approach of summer, it becomes impossible to sleep under it. Our summer blanket is made by the same company that makes our sheets.

Considering that nearly a third of our life is spent in bed, we have certainly cultivated a cocoon worthy of worship that serves us in heavenly ways, which have us longing for it while out traveling. When it’s time to go to bed, it’s done so knowing that within minutes, we’ll be well asleep, snuggling into the world of dreams. There might even be times that we feel we have an awkward relationship with our bed as after the love of each other, we’d both likely admit to being in love with this bed, except for the week or two getting used to the Tischdecke.

For future reference:

Bed Threads French flax linen blanket – $200

Bed Threads French flax linen flat sheet – $110

Parachute flax linen duvet cover – $270

L.L. Bean baffle-box stitch goose down comforter, queen/warm – $400

Futon Favorite handmade mattress, queen – $640

Self-Righteous Stupidity

JWise Rant

John Wise of Phoenix, Arizona

I’m not supposed to be here sharing this mugshot of a grumpy old man; I’ve been taking a writing holiday. But if I don’t jump into splashing about and hammering on my keys in the deep end of the word pool, I’m going to drown. This break from blogging was supposed to allow me some respite from the constant nagging of saying something, but the circumstances of being out and about demand I write or lash out. Putting letters and words on the page about love and beauty would have been preferable, but that hopeful act is about to be crushed as I veer off into describing the abhorrent stupidity I’m all too frequently witnessing. I sit in public and become a reluctant listener to the asinine musings of undereducated idiots who regurgitate absurdities I feel like correcting, but their passion for vapidity will never be overcome. So I don my headphones and try to disappear into song, but every so often, something gets through, and I have to raise my eyes to be the universe’s witness to who just muttered such nonsense.

I could sit at home and isolate myself from the morass of devolving intellectual creep but I prefer turning to home in the evening to relieve myself of needing to be productive. While I’m out and about my goal is learning, be it by reading, writing, playing with music tools, photography, engaging conversation, or exploring something in nature. If I were to take to the seclusion of being safe from stupidity, other than my own, at home, I’d risk becoming a shut-in.

Certainly, I grant that it has never been uncommon to witness grotesque anti-intellectualism in all of its glorious stripes of banality, and I’ll also be the first to admit that this could well be a condition of my advancing age, but I feel that large and profound public displays of vast stupidity are becoming a mark of modernity. Maybe my sensitivity is being exacerbated by my growing awareness that the machine is quickly gaining on us humans and that; in short order, my phone will effectively be smarter than 95% of those I encounter in almost any given situation. Every day lately, I talk with ChatGPT and it’s a rare moment that I fail to be impressed with its abilities. All the while, it’s advancing by leaps and bounds even though that progress is not being made immediately available to the general public yet. So, this machine with which I converse evolves on an unseen forward trajectory while those before me are stumbling down the evolutionary ladder into dark ignorance.

To say I’m unhappy writing this is a gross understatement, but I don’t know what else to do with the seething that afflicts me when I cannot avert my senses from being abused by those who flaunt such aggressively dense ignorance. Maybe writing about it will act as a cathartic moment and exorcise these demons of the dull, but I know I’m not fooling anyone as tomorrow or ten minutes from now, the bombardment of excretory density will again fall upon my shoulders and into my senses. What’s left to do?

Leaving the moment is likely my only escape, but where can I be immune to the disease of self-righteous stupidity? The void might work, but my overall love of life lets me know that’s a bad idea. Even getting in the car is risky as it’s inevitable that someone will need to be in my space due to their impatience or incredible importance that requires them to arrive at a red light 12 feet ahead of me.

I can’t be angry about this movement towards such abysmal depths of anti-intellectualism as it’s a symptom of a frightened culture on the descent from its former heights where success bred dizziness and greed. Being humbled by the arrogance that catapulted America into a role it wasn’t prepared to carry seems the only likely outcome at this time, but I have to admit that I wasn’t really ready to see it splayed out so nakedly in my lifetime.

As I drive away from the coffee shop and get home, I realize that the thing that is different this year and maybe the past two weeks is we are not traveling as much as we did last year or even the year before, and so instead of being distracted by the writing chores of capturing our experiences, I’m spending more time in my environment where I’m intentionally not writing with the frequency I’m used to. After lunch, I think I’ll head out to take some photos of the desert bloom that’s occurring right now and see if I can’t shift my focus a small amount to help me avert my gaze from what I’d rather not see.

  • This is what I wrote just before my May Day missive that took my focus off this rant.