Endings and beginnings are very odd pairings. In some cases, a beginning is loud and dramatic while the end is indefinite and discrete. Examples include human life (the screaming moment of birth and the quiet exhalation at death) and the calendar year (fireworks for January 1 compared to a flipped calendar page for December 1). We celebrate new arrivals and weep at the departures.
In other cases, the transition from start to finish is a crescendo with the UConn Women’s Basketball team as a poignant example. Under great national attention, Stanford ended the Husky win streak at 90 games. [It was surreal to watch Condoleezza Rice celebrating, maybe vindicated for her failed Iraq efforts?] In contrast, our local PBS station just re-broadcasted the first game in the streak from November 16, 2008. It was a very typical game with no one sensing where it might all conclude, and nobody imagining that it would almost 1000 days later.
Each year, the media lists the more famous who have walked among us but have died over the preceding 12 months: actors, scientists, artists, etc. Almost inevitably, we are surprised to discover someone’s passing. People like the woman who played the wife and mother on Leave it To Beaver have been such a presence over the years that it is almost as startling to realize that she is a living person as to simultaneously discover that she is, finally and forever, not. As struck as we can be by an ending this is often followed by the sense that things continue. Maybe we believe the UConn win streak would go on forever, despite the coach making it clear that someday it would have to end. We were fooling ourselves into believing that there might be a basketball doxology:
What remains unclear is whether anything new really begins and if endings are especially final. Stephen Jay Gould himself charted this by examining time as an arrow or as a cycle. In relation to geology, he appreciated the dichotomy of the metaphors and praised the tensions it generated. And that worked well for Dr Gould in his professional life; in his personal life he has ceased to be. And yet, he persists in his works which continue to education and enlighten.
An acquaintance expressed astonishment that I was not regularly archiving my computer files. I discovered I had the software that just need to be reloaded. The hardware was already on hand but never put into automatic action. I also ran an anti-virus program as recommended and came back with a completely clean bill of technological health. Now I can virtually thumb back through several years of syllabi and manuscripts and conference proceedings. But Time Machine only looks backwards. On January 1st, it is all about possibilities. I am curious to discover a year from now what has been added and what is changed.
In other cases, the transition from start to finish is a crescendo with the UConn Women’s Basketball team as a poignant example. Under great national attention, Stanford ended the Husky win streak at 90 games. [It was surreal to watch Condoleezza Rice celebrating, maybe vindicated for her failed Iraq efforts?] In contrast, our local PBS station just re-broadcasted the first game in the streak from November 16, 2008. It was a very typical game with no one sensing where it might all conclude, and nobody imagining that it would almost 1000 days later.
Each year, the media lists the more famous who have walked among us but have died over the preceding 12 months: actors, scientists, artists, etc. Almost inevitably, we are surprised to discover someone’s passing. People like the woman who played the wife and mother on Leave it To Beaver have been such a presence over the years that it is almost as startling to realize that she is a living person as to simultaneously discover that she is, finally and forever, not. As struck as we can be by an ending this is often followed by the sense that things continue. Maybe we believe the UConn win streak would go on forever, despite the coach making it clear that someday it would have to end. We were fooling ourselves into believing that there might be a basketball doxology:As it was in the beginningOn the night of the famous loss, I went to bed heavyhearted with condolences arriving through the ether. And the next morning we realized we were going to be okay. The coach was quick to recover, quipping at the post-game press conference: “This losing stuff is getting old: I hate it.” Other basketball games are on the schedule and we have six pairs of tickets on the refrigerator waiting to be used — including the first appearance by the team after their spanking by the Cardinal.
Is now, and ever shall be,
World without end …
What remains unclear is whether anything new really begins and if endings are especially final. Stephen Jay Gould himself charted this by examining time as an arrow or as a cycle. In relation to geology, he appreciated the dichotomy of the metaphors and praised the tensions it generated. And that worked well for Dr Gould in his professional life; in his personal life he has ceased to be. And yet, he persists in his works which continue to education and enlighten.
An acquaintance expressed astonishment that I was not regularly archiving my computer files. I discovered I had the software that just need to be reloaded. The hardware was already on hand but never put into automatic action. I also ran an anti-virus program as recommended and came back with a completely clean bill of technological health. Now I can virtually thumb back through several years of syllabi and manuscripts and conference proceedings. But Time Machine only looks backwards. On January 1st, it is all about possibilities. I am curious to discover a year from now what has been added and what is changed.
