August 22, 1994:
It is now the 22nd day of August, and I just re-read the above pages, winding down from July. The intervening days have been busy ones. I write this looking out from the third floor living room, the calm Atlantic some 200 yards away. It’s our annual sojourn to Myrtle Beach. We have only one twin this time, David. The other, Sean, remained at home to participate in football practice. Michael Golden and Cindy, with Kelly and Matthew are also here, down on the first floor.
Since July closed, we have visited New York City to see “Beauty and the Beast”, celebrated an anniversary on the 14th of August and travelled to this South Carolina resort with a stopover in Fayetteville, North Carolina.
The musical version of the Walt Disney show, “Beauty and the Beast” was highly entertaining. It was a reproduction in storyline of the movie, but the scenery, costumes and dance/musical numbers were outstanding. One particularly memorable moment was the dance/musical number “Be Our Guest!” The unusual characters all were reproductions of items found in a kitchen, like an eggbeater, rolling pin, spoons, forks, knives, etc. It was a joy to watch. The show was a pleasant surprise since, while knowing the story, reading the book, or seeing the movie usually reduces one’s enjoyment. It did not this time. June had watched the video three times with the grandchildren, and still thrilled to the music and dancing.
We made the trip to New York via Metroliner, a very pleasant railroad ride and change from the auto. We walked to the theater after lunch in the station and walked back to the station in time for the last Metro out at 5:30pm. We arrived at 30th Street about 6:35pm. and drove to the shore, stopping in Pleasantville for dinner.
Our visitors of the weekend were Sue, Tom, Meg, Kate and Colleen. I had had the pleasure on the Wednesday prior of driving Kate to Avalon. She was pleasant and entertaining company. She kept me alert with her questions, most of which I didn’t feel I adequately answered, but she never once asked “Are we there yet?” so I must have been doing something right! She was very happy about being away for two nights. Her Mom and Dad were coming down on Friday. She did seem very pleased when Meg, Mom, Dad and baby Colleen arrived.
The anniversary was celebrated with dinner at the new Italian restaurant “DeLucce’s” at 8th and First Avenue in what was once called the Avalon Hotel. It is now condos. We celebrated our 13th with a quiet meal as the weather outside clouded up for a super thunderstorm. We had planned to walk, but the threatening clouds made us decide to drive and we were grateful we did so, since as we came out to start for home the clouds were about to explode. Later they did.
Often, as I write these jottings, journals, or what have you, I consider the material trivial, something that would not really concern my readers. I often re-write and extract some of the more insignificant details. So it was with interest and pleasure to read someone else’s thoughts on such matters. Specifically, I am reading the life of Thomas Jefferson who, during his lifetime, did some pretty heavy and undoubtedly significant writing. Nevertheless, his personal communication, as we all know, was by letters. While he was Ambassador to France, he wrote about his thoughts on this matter of insignificancy. It was the best argument yet for sometimes forgetting what we might call trivia. It reads:
“Of political correspondence I can find enough. But I can persuade nobody to believe that the small facts which they see passing daily under their eyes are precious to me at this distance; much more interesting to the heart than events of higher rank. Fancy to yourself a being who is withdrawn from his connection of blood, of marriage, of friendship, of acquaintances in all their graduations, who, for years should hear nothing of what has passed among them, who returns again to see them and finds some half dead. This strikes him like a pestilence sweeping off the half of mankind…Continue then to give me the facts, little facts, such as you think everyone imagines beneath notice and your letters will be most precious to me.”
We, of course, are not as isolated as Thomas Jefferson in the 1780s, when mail from the colonies took weeks. We have the phone, the great communicator, so the desolation of Thomas Jefferson is not among us. This paragraph was in a letter to his sister, Elizabeth Epps, who was raising Jefferson’s daughter, Polly. He had 6 daughters, 4 of whom died young, some at birth. His wife also died at age 33. His daughter, Patsy, the eldest, was with him in France. Another of his daughters (one of the 4 mentioned above) died in his sister’s care and he learned about it after the fact (she was 2 years old). His lamentations are understandable, and fortunately for me, my “connections of blood, of marriage, of friendship, of acquaintances in all their graduations” are not “withdrawn”. So enough trivia is communicated. Nevertheless, it was enlightening and encouraging seeing some consider a place for trivia. We shall, however, since we are not in the 1780s but the 1990s, try to weed out the more insignificant trivia.