It’s the 150th birthday for the gin & tonic! I’m celebrating in the obvious way! (Plymouth, if you’re wondering.)

A podcast about books, art & life — not necessarily in that order
It’s the 150th birthday for the gin & tonic! I’m celebrating in the obvious way! (Plymouth, if you’re wondering.)
No rambling exegeses this week. Instead, you get a couple of passages from Montaigne. The first comes from his Defense of Seneca and Plutarch:
We must not judge what is possible and what is not, according to what is credible and incredible to our sense. . . . It seems to each man that the ruling pattern of nature is in him; to this he refers all other forms as to a touchstone. The ways that do not square with his are counterfeit and artificial. What brutish stupidity!
For my part, I consider some men very far above me, especially among the ancients; and although I clearly recognize my inability to follow them with my steps, I do not fail to follow them with my eyes and judge the powers that raise them so high . . . I well see the method which the great souls use to raise themselves, and I wonder at their greatness. And the flights that I find very beautiful, I embrace; and if my powers do not reach them, at least my judgment applies itself to them very gladly.
The next is from The Story of Spurina, which explores our physical and mental lusts and then relates the tale of a beautiful young man who decided to disfigure himself to avoid inflicting desire upon others. M. condemns this action as unwise, because desire is only one sin: “What is his ugliness later served to cast others into the sin of scorn and hatred or of envy for the glory of so rare a merit, or of calumny, interpreting this impulse as a frantic ambition?”
He goes on to tell us how, to quote Annie Lennox, “Dying is easy / It’s living that scares me to death”:
Those who evade the common duties and that infinite number of thorny and many-faceted rules that bind a man of precise probity in civil life, achieve, in my opinion, a fine saving, whatever point of especial rigor they may impose on themselves. It is in a sense dying to escape the trouble of living well. They may have some other prize; but the prize of difficulty it has never seem to me they had, nor do I think there is anything more arduous than keeping oneself straight amid the waves and rush of the world, loyally repsonding to and satisfying every part of one’s charge.
What I’m reading: Finished The Spy in the Ointment last week, and haven’t started anything new, although I dip into “Have You Seen . . . ?”
occasionally.
What I’m listening to: Ten Short Songs About Love, by Gary Clark.
What I’m watching: Tried Sweeney Todd, but got bored.
What I’m drinking: Wet by Beefeater G&Ts, but I picked up some Plymouth this weekend. While I was at the liquor store, I noticed that an allegedly high-end gin — New Amsterdam — I was wary of when I first saw it a few months ago is now on sale for the rotgut price of $18.99 for 1.75 L. If you’re at the same price point as Gordon’s and Gilbey’s, you are officially a cheap-ass gin, regardless of your stylish packaging.
What Rufus is up to: Another greyhound hike in Wawayanda, with a post-hike feeding frenzy!
Where I’m going: Atlanta next week for the AAPS meeting. I’m hoping to meet up with some friends from grad school while I’m down there, but that’ll entail blowing off a biz-type dinner at some point.
What I’m happy about: My wife is still alive in the NFL Loser pool that I flunked out of in its first week. Oh, and greyhound racing got banned in Massachusetts!
What I’m sad about: That I haven’t taken care of my mammoth landscaping plans or gotten a fence put in the backyard yet.
What I’m pondering: Jesse Jackson – crocodile tears or just a moment without charlatanry? The question is moot!