Haze

There is a haze of half- remembered conversations or posts into which my mind dips.

I see Dave Grohl on TV. He's made it, I think, he's made it without Kurt Cobain, and did I talk to someone about this? Austen perhaps. What would have happened had Kurt not died? Would Grohl have spread his wings and flown? Would Cobain have gone on producing amazing music?

In church this morning, the curate wants a little children's moment in the middle of the service, so I decide for no particular reason to read the Book of Esther while this is going on. Maybe from the haze I remember Sleepy telling me about the Purim, or perhaps it was a teacher from one of the Jewish schools.
I can see that Esther is a hero for the Jewish people. She uses her womanly wiles to foil the evil plotting of Haman against her father Mordecai and the Jews in general. More or less salts the earth behind him too, the Lord may have said,
'Vengeance is mine,' but Esther had her people allowed to go out and kill all the enemies who had been harbouring bad thoughts about the tribe of Benjamin. Fair enough really.
But hang on. In order for Esther to be in any position of power in the first place, her husband had chucked out his wife Vashti for not bowing to his wishes. Furthermore, he points out that if he lets Vashti get away with not obeying him, all women will think it's ok to do that.
So while you've got to admire Esther for working the system, spare a thought for Vashti who was basically a feminist.

On TV, just before Dave Grohl, there was a programme about the science of Superman. It seems that Superman travels at such a speed that the difference of speed between Lois Lane hitting the ground and Superman catching her would be so great that the more traumatic and painful thing would be to be caught by Superman.
Still, if it makes the guy look good.....

On BBC Canada yesterday, I caught the beginning of another series about British history - something along the lines of 'Buildings that Changed/Built Britain'. A historian called Simon Thurley, wrapped up against the Welsh wind, walked and talked and told us a tale of how Edward the First quashed a Welsh uprising led by Llewellyn ap Griffidd. It was mesmerising. My problem, and again, that conversation haze reminds me I've talked to someone about this, is that I have been trying to follow the Canadian series 'Historylands' where the format is not that dissimilar and yet....it succeeds in being as dry as dust.
Why? What the hell is it?

Yesterday I wanted to watch the episode entitled 'Head-smashed-in-buffalo-jump' about the place of the same name.
The First Nations story about how the place got its name, took all of two minutes, young warrior waits beneath a cliff to see how the buffalo fall as they come thundering over the cliff, gets a hoof to the head and it's all over for him. About three minutes after that I had to abandon it.

Perhaps it's an autumn haze. I think today is the first day. It's also the first day I have heard the noise of footie being played on the pitches opposite our house.

And it's also the birthday of my friend Eve.
Happy 50th Eve! 1957 was such a good vintage.