In Memory of Joan Didion

Many years ago when I was an undergraduate at a city university in New York City, I took a class in creative writing. The instructor had us read Joan Didion's SLOUCHING TOWARDS BETHLEHEM's essay entitled On Keeping a Notebook.

"Why did I write it down? In order to remember, of course, but exactly what was it I wanted
to remember? How much of it actually happened? Did any of it? Why do I keep a
notebook at all? It is easy to deceive oneself on all those scores. The impulse to write
things down is a peculiarly compulsive one, inexplicable to those who do not share it, useful
only accidentally, only secondarily, in the way that any compulsion tries to justify itself. I
suppose that it begins or does not begin in the cradle. Although I have felt compelled to
write things down since I was five years old, I doubt that my daughter ever will, for she is a
singularly blessed and accepting child, delighted with life exactly as life presents itself to
her, unafraid to go to sleep and unafraid to wake up. Keepers of private notebooks are a
different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents,
children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss."

That was the first time I was formally instructed to keep a notebook (short of the academic variety that is basically classroom note taking or transcription).
Towards the end of last year I cracked open a marble notebook with flimsy cardboard cover and back (wrapped with a brown paper bag covering) and I entitled the book 2020. It was a year to remember.
Not knowing what I had wanted to do, I started transcribing Yiddish poems in the hopes that I would shoot for fluency at some leisurely time. It also gave me an opportunity to work on my childish penmanship. I also reviewed Yiddish words of the day.
Today's selection is :

Word of the Day
geshtehn
mir/zay geshtayen (iz geshtanen)
geshtehn antkegn + dative
defy, resist
geshtehn far
be worth, be the equivalent of

I would then check the German dictionary to see if that word exists and what its definition is. The German meaning is quite different.

gestehen [v,t]

• to admit
• to confess
• to fess up (colloquial)

gestehen [v,i]

• to come clean
• to confess
• to give a confession
• to make a confession
• to own up

The German terms for verbs to defy or to resist appear as

to defy

• Schwierigkeiten [f,pl] machen
• Trotz [m,sg] bieten [v,t]
• die Stirn [f,sg] bieten [v,t]
• sich hinwegsetzen [v,refl] über
• sich widersetzen
• standhalten
• trotzen
• verstoßen gegen

or

to resist

• sich widersetzen
• widerstehen

Both languages have the concept of standing in some of the options which makes sense since the term is frictional or obstructive.

So I decided to crack open the book and share a journal entry. Looks as if I had picked a particularly stressful moment!

Sunday, 14. II. 2021
dee foonanderlozung
dissolution (of an assembly)

Auflösung [f,sg]

• breakup
• cancelation (AE)
• cancellation (BE)
• disbandment
• disintegration
• dissolution
• epiphany
• explosion
• manual route release
• release
• releasing
• resolution
• solubilization
• solution
• train-activated route release
• writing off

WOW! So many options in English for one German word. They generally add modifiers to their nouns so that the correct choice may be made. But that for another entry. Here is what I had written.

At 0330 my dog got skunked. I was so overwhelmed by the chemical odor. I called a vet in Woodland Hills who had suggested I call some place closer. "You'll pass them along the way."

The one in Pasadena had a doctor in surgery for a four hour wait. There was one on Santa Monica Boulevard named METROPOLITAN ANIMAL SPECIALTY HOSPITAL (MASH) which had a Brit answering the phone. She was unintelligible. When I asked her where they were, she said, "Santa Monica Boulevard." "Could you narrow it down?" I had asked, "Santa Monica Boulevard is a somewhat long street."

She pretended not to know what I was saying. "What's your cross street?"
'We are between Hudson and Seward." (She pronounced Seward like SEAwood).

"Oh, Hollywood," I said. "NEVER MIND!"

The next place I called was a 310 number and the woman quoted a higher exam fee. There was also a longer wait time. "Your baby may have to wait."
"Baby? You work on dogs, right?"

"We are a veterinary hospital," she said.

My baby is over 15 years old. No thanks. So I wound up going to Woodland Hills.

That is the end of the entry

It was an expensive trip. And they wanted to get my dog out of there as quickly as possible. They told me to shampoo him. What a surprise. I had never experienced skunk spray up close and personal like that. He was giving me a headache and I was certain that he was going to die. If cancer had a smell, that is what I would have imagined it to be.

But I'm glad I wrote about that. The dog is a hand-me-down, adopted dog that was picked up at the county shelter. They said he was found on the street and that he was about 6 months old when they found him. He's done well for himself and while he is only in the company of males (except for the fixed female cat), he has always been loved and allowed to share a space in the bed next to the person who has the hand that feeds him.

When the owner went looking for a dog, he was everything that the owner didn't want. The dog was black, and young, and powerfully energetic. The owner was an American With Disabilities (a Chicago Italian-American man in his mid-50s living with AIDS) who slept many hours during the day. For as much vitality as the dog had, he agreed to stay by his master's side and when his master slept, he stayed in the bed with him. We never needed a doorbell as the dog knew when someone was nearby without anyone's need to make a sound.

The dog now sleeps with me. He marks me as his territory (licking my scalp) and I can say goodbye to pristine white sheets or to entertaining a gentleman caller for a romp. Still, I am glad to have been given the responsibility of caring for this beast. I am hoping to outlive him and I have promised him that he will never be replaced.

Thank you, Miss Didion, for the reason to keep a notebook.