FAUSTIAN BARGAIN

There is a meme in old American movies about a stick-up, an armed robbery. The criminal is facing his victim and holding a gun. "Your money or your life," the thug barks. It's a bad choice but one is much worse than the other.  

A Faustian bargain refers to the legend of the old alchemist who sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for youth, love and wealth. Everything the world has to offer came to Faust, but in the end he was doomed. Our government's policies about the virus and economic recovery have begun to feel like this. Your money or your life, indeed. Granted, my family is financially secure and I understand why others would be desperate. In the big picture, though, I'd rather have my life, and my family's, friends and co-workers. And yours.

Normally at this time of year I'd be shooting The Lou's many outdoor events. All canceled, of course, so I have to find something else. Last weekend I went to one of our two huge old cemeteries, Bellefontaine. It's all Protestant (every name is English, Scottish or German). The Catholic one, Calvary, is adjacent. It's where our rich and famous get planted. I got a good shot of the grave of our native son and cultural hero, William S. Burroughs. Tennessee Williams is across the road. We will come back to the subject.  

HEROS AND VILLIANS

This banner is high on a wall of the enormous Barnes-Jewish Hospital / Washington University Medical Center complex. I've been repaired there a time or two. The American Heritage Dictionary defines hero as:

• n. In mythology and legend, a man, often of divine ancestry, who is endowed with great courage and strength, celebrated for his bold exploits, and favored by the gods.
• n. A person noted for feats of courage or nobility of purpose, especially one who has risked or sacrificed his or her life.

Words are inadequate to express our appreciation for front-line medical workers. Courage, nobility and risk like no other. Then, on the other hand, we have the anti-public health, anti-vaccine people. I respect their right to speak but I don't respect their judgment. There was an interesting piece in The Conversation yesterday about what may happen with these people when a vaccine is developed. Could it be that the tables are turned and they become the object of rage by the rest of the country for prolonging danger and unemployment? And then we get into the questions about what society - all of us together, the national government if you want to call it that - must do to keep us fed and housed. John Maynard Keynes, where are you, now that we need you?

There are times I think a lot of us could use an intro course in epistemology but, as the old saying goes, you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink. Or was the last word "think"? 

This probably qualifies as the occasional rant.

THERE IS HOPE

Closed today but not forever. Like most cities, we have have a number of small breweries, some with enough volume to sell in stores, some just restaurant-sized. This is part of one of my favorites, Urban Chestnut. As a matter of fact, I am sipping one of their products as I write this. They call it Zwickel, described as Bavarian lager. Mmmm mmmm.         

YOUR IDEAL DAY IN STL

My ideal day in STL? Fluffy clouds but not too hot (which rules out much of the summer). No hurry to get up. Dark roast coffee and breakfast with Mrs. C, who remains my best friend. An afternoon shooting at one of The Lou's unique events, particularly the People's Joy Parade, https://bit.ly/3bZo0NE . Picnic dinner on the lawn outside the theater where Opera Theatre of St. Louis takes place, followed by a performance of, say, Le Nozze di Figaro.  A glass of champagne under the opera festival tent before bed.  (But not this year.)

We found this rock on Picnic Island in Forest Park, apparently one of fifty. I have a picture of another we found in front of the art museum that I may post. We could start a scavenger hunt, but 50 rocks in 1,300 acres / 526 hectares, while better than a needle in a haystack, is a big challenge. Anyone interested?           

TATTERS

How did I not see this before? It's in a section of Locust Street just west of downtown, an area that's part rehabbed and part derelict. Maybe the light was just perfect at the moment I drove by. Some artist put a lot of thought and effort into this, apparently heavy paper applied to boarded-up doors. It's beautiful.