Evanston: at altitude; disposing; a hanging artist; the end

 

My transit from the lower flatlands to the upper flatlands went smoothly on Saturday and now at altitude I am dizzy from lack of oxygen.  Well, at 600’/183 meters perhaps not.  But I am suffering from not being in the constant presence of water, of being able to glance up as I do dozens, perhaps hundreds of times a day in Hilton Head and see live oaks, Spanish moss, Skull Creek, and the top of GANNET’s mast.  I take solace in that I will be able to do so again in a week.

There is water around here—the fifth biggest lake in the world on which my friend Jay’s Olson 34, SHOE STRING, is somewhere in the above photo which he has given me permission to run.  I thank him.  SHOE STRING went into the water Friday for the first time since October 2019.  The Chicago waterfront was closed until late last year due to COVID and Jay did not launch.  I hope he and all the other local sailors have an excellent summer to make up for the lost last one.

Of flatlands, Chicago is as flat as Hilton Head.  I have nothing against hills.  I just never see one.

Carol and I spent much of yesterday throwing things out.  Five trash bags went into the bins.  Two more are ready in the living room delayed so we don’t overload the bins before pick-up.

Not surprisingly I am more draconian about this than Carol.  I have twice lost every possession I owned in the world and know of how little importance they are.  I also have no sentimentality about my past.  Given a dumpster and a free hand I could have this place cleared out by sunset tomorrow.  At the latest.  However, having neither, it will take longer.

My friend, Tim, the marathon running violinist, recommended an excellent book to me, THE PERFECT MILE, about the competition to be first to run a 4 minute mile and the perfect mile run by Roger Bannister against John Landy at the British Empire games in Vancouver, Canada, in 1954.  I remember listening to that race on radio.  I would have been twelve years old at the time.

THE PERFECT MILE is worthy of THE BOYS IN THE BOAT, which is high praise, and about more than running as THE BOYS IN THE BOAT is about more than rowing.  Both are about the pursuit of excellence and the discipline and sacrifices encountered along the way.

A quote heading one of the chapters, “A man who sets out to become an artist at the mile is something like a man who sets out to discover the most graceful method of being hanged.  No matter how logical his plans, he can not carry them out without physical suffering.” —Paul O’Neil.  True of solo sailing, too.

I have finished THE SEASHELL ANTHOLOGY OF GREAT POETRY.  The last section is about death and the last poem Shakespeare.