'Hobbit Day', So-Called

“I've been celebrating Bilbo and Frodo's birthday (an event that has come to be known as Hobbit Day in the wider world) more of less since I saw my first Tolkien calendar in 1977. For quite a few years, every September 14th I'd try to scrounge up some sort of feast for friends and family, even if it was only some soda and cookies.

“Wait a minute, you might say. The Birthday was on September 22nd. It says so in the book. It's canon, dammit. What's this 14th biz?

“Well, so it does. The story goes Tolkien chose September 22nd as Bilbo's birth date, because that was the day he misremembered as the publication date of The Hobbit (it was actually the 21st). But he also clearly states in the Appendices that there is a difference between the Shire Reckoning and the Gregorian Calendar. Here's what Wikipedia has to say about that:

"Due to the discrepancies between the Shire calendar and the Gregorian calendar there is some debate about when to celebrate Hobbit Day, since the actual birthday would be between September 12 and 14 the Gregorian calendar, as explained in the appendices of The Lord of the Rings." [The movable spread over those dates is due to optional days in the Shire Reckoning.]

“The people who put together those early calendars were loyal nerds of the most devoted stripe and had to set down the "actual" date. The fandom is a little looser, more casual these days, and it is a lot easier just to say "Happy Birthday" on the day it says right there in Chapter One, without worrying about those fusty old calculations in the back.

“So, that's when I celebrate now, too. It is close to the publication of the book that started the whole business (for the public anyway), and most of the geek-world (especially the movie fandom) does it, so it's convenient. But I can't help but feel a little contrarian, and a little bit guilty, even though it's simply wishing two imaginary characters well on their made-up birthday.” – Power of Babel 2014

 

“Tolkien made September 22, the day on which the first copies were purchased and read, Bilbo's and Frodo's birthdays, and the American Tolkien Association has designated as "Tolkien Week" the week in which September 22 falls. --The 1938 Hobbit Project

“How the date of Bilbo's (and Frodo's) birthday corresponds with our calendar is a matter of debate. Appendix D of The Lord of the Rings says that our New Year's Day (January 1) corresponds "more or less" to the Shire's "January 9", and in standard years our September 14 and the Shire's "September 22" both fall 256 days after that date. However, Appendix D also says that the Shire calendar's "Midyear's Day" is "intended to correspond as nearly as possible to the summer solstice." In the Shire calendar, "September" (Halimath) 22 is 83 days after Midyear's Day. If we take the summer solstice to be our June 21, then Bilbo's and Frodo's birthday must be 83 days later, which is our September 12. --Footnote from Tolkien Gateway.” – Power of Babel 2017

 

I know I’ve posted about this many more times, articles which I can’t track down at the moment. Perhaps I’m even confusing certain memories with Ring Day (Sauron’s Downfall) and even my own birthday celebrated in hobbit fashion (giving rather than receiving presents and a feast). But the story of one ‘Birthday’ particularly stands out: the college munchies story. 

So, as I say, I had been celebrating ‘the Birthday’ since the first Tolkien calendar (1978) I ever got. The appropriate elements were somehow deemed to be Little Debbie Oatmeal Crème Pies and Barq's root beer. And the day (because the calendars said so) was September 14^th.

So it rolled along for several years until I was in college. Those were lean years without much cash to spare. But somehow the day before the Birthday I scraped together a few dollars, took a long harrowing shuttle bus to the grocery store, bought the pies and the cheapest bottle of root beer available, and humped it all home, setting them on a little interior window shelf (one of Nanny’s architectural oddities; it used to be an exterior wall), ready for the feast the next day. Imagine my horror when I returned in the morning from classes and found that Mike and his friend Phil, having had a bout of puffing on the devil’s spinach, had decimated my supplies! I had been planning on inviting them to the feast, but this treachery sank my spirits. Looking forward to the treat had been impelling me through the barren week. My ‘sacred elements’ had been used for profane purposes. It took me a while before I got over it (it still rankles a bit, as you can tell).

2020 Diary: The End of September

9/22/2020: First Day of Autumn and Bilbo and Frodo’s Birthday. Up about 5:30 AM. Prayers and Bible, the last chapter of Mark. Cast my eye over the medical form and made some last entries. Intend to make my posts on NOT and then shower and dress. Estimated Time to depart: 8:30 AM.

And so we did. It was lovely fall weather, and we talked much of John’s job (pays less and is taking some getting used to) and about “Grampa”. The clouds were laying in like three lightening layers as we headed to SA. When we turned around, the clouds behind us were still dark. It was quite dramatic. When found the medical clinic (which were in buildings that I recognized from many trips; they were sort of ‘accordioned’ and used to have a radio station in one. We parked and I went in and was soon in a room and had a preliminary look over by a nurse. Then I waited about 40 minutes for the doctor to have a look at me, long enough for a rosary and then a few Acts. She was quite a young doctor, very pleasant. After some tests I went back out. We drove back to Seguin, and as we approached that side of town, we visited Loop Drive. How the whole neighborhood has changed, though much of it is still the same! The yard of 558 was filled with blackbirds, more than I ever remember seeing in our time. When we got back here, I bummed a dollar off John. S&A were just leaving. I went in and made me some breakfast, and then lunch, and then laid down. About 3 PM Kam came in and asked for help with his homework, making a resume. About 3:30 PM I started supper (taters and cabbage, sausage). Brought in the recycling bin and fed the animals. Took my supper in about 4:45 PM. Started a new DQ8 file. After I washed up at about 8:10 PM, I played DQ8 until 1 AM. Ready to hit the hay, though I still feel keyed up.

 

9/23/2020: I was up about 6:20 AM (from a dream about finding coins on a forest floor) and said my prayers as I got dressed. I was out the door at 6:40 AM, and it was still pretty dark. I got to TX Cooler and got my ticket (the old gentleman who hangs around there opened the door for me both times, so I didn’t even have to touch anything). Home by 7:30 AM. Read the Bible, straightened the house and made tea. Right knee banging up something terrible, almost giving way; must rest it now.

At 9 AM made eggs and ramen. I’m feeling a little shaky. Not sure if it’s being tired from going to town or a reaction to suddenly going slack after having anxiety for over a month. Playing DQ8; about to go into the Ruined Abbey, so paused. Almost 12:30 PM now.

After supper I stayed up and played DQ8 until 5 AM in the morning.

 

9/24/2020: Up about 7 AM. The day went much as usual; I was feeling a bit more normal, but still tired. Prayers, Bible, then played, played, played DQ8 all day, only pausing at 3 PM to help Kameron with his homework and make supper. Rosary about 7 PM. About 9 PM finally posted on NOT. Almost 10 PM; perhaps I can sleep tonight.

 

9/25/2020: How fast September is flying by! Take the day as read. The most unusual thing that happened was that Kam (for his project for school) made “slime”. Why they make them learn this useless, wasteful, and pointless skill is beyond me, unless it is to teach them to follow instructions. Had to help him clean up afterward, which was something of a pain (“slime” is mostly glue and takes some careful disposal).

John sent me a lovely autumnal picture that Morgandy had drawn in about 20 minutes; it was better (as I told him) than anything I could draw if I took all day on my best day. Kenny shared on Facebook that Isabel has her driver’s license now.

 

9/26/2020: Up about 6 AM. Prayers, Bible. DQ8 in the intervals all day. NOT. Egg salad at 10 AM. Ramen and eggs at 5 PM. Saw Alan Peschke had written music for and performed “Blue Tears Falling in a Crystal Sky” [one of my poems that I still need to post here, it seems]. Made S&A dip-dips at 7 PM and got some chili limon corn chips. Kam and I watched “Time of the Apes”. He went in about 9 PM. DQ8 until 11 PM, then rosary. Bed about midnight.

 

9/27/2020: Up about 6:30 AM. Prayers, shower, then Bible. Now it’s almost 7:15 AM; ready for YouTube mass. Remember to tell John about early drawing of a dog [an early drawing I had made of a Pluto-like dog in a top hat; maybe 3^rd Grade]. Plunged pretty much into ‘grinding’ on DQ8, with alchemy mixes, getting casino tokens, and in between, almost as an afterthought, playing the game to advance the story. Two ramen and some old bananas my portion today. Stopped at 9 PM to say my rosary, then resumed. It is now 3 AM, and I am tired but not sleepy, which is not a good combination. During the evening I was suddenly attacked by McQueeney emotions and memories, and that brought on the what-ifs. “When I start 1^st Grade next time, this is what I’ll do …” I guess a man who has no foreseeable future only has a past.

 

9/28/2020: Woke up about 7:30 AM, prayers, Bible. Worked on NOT, starting my main Lewis books today. There is quite a lot of them. At 9 AM started laundry, and so a typical Monday played itself out, except it was cool, windy, and brightly cloudy all day. Got through all my stuff, skimming over it all as it were, as I impelled myself through DQ8 and did my chores as in a trance. I petted Dodger before I realized he had just had his flea spots. At 4 PM started supper, and so on. I had early written John this:

 A more brisk and lovely early autumn day one could not ask for! Last night, at about 3 AM in the sleepless morning, I made a vow to write at least 2 pages a day, one on 'Franklinstein' and one reworking 'King Korm'. I believe this is doable, even for a slump like me, and this weather is like an encouraging message that this is the right thing.

For a while it looked like I would fail on that promise, but I forced myself to sit down and do it. Rosary at about 11 PM. Played DQ8 until about 2 AM, then bed.

 

9/29/2020: The Feast of the Archangels, Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. Up a little before 7 AM; a cool, brisk morning. Said my prayers as I dressed, then Bible. Gathered stuff for NOT and posted more CSL, with half an eye on Perry Mason. Nice cool morning. Went in at 9 AM, ramen and eggs. More DQ8. Went out and brought the garbage bins in, investigating a strong smell of gas – butane? – and then brought a huge heavy package off the front porch to the kitchen porch. Nap. Went in about 2:30 PM to get my lunch ramen, then at 3 PM Kam called for me to help with his homework. It was measuring various items around the house. I pointed out to him that the point of the exercise was not to obtain the measurements but to teach him how to make them. Started supper (sausage cabbage taters), then took mine in before 5 PM. Rosary. Did my page of revision on King Korm, then more DQ8. I’m already at the Black Citadel. Knocked off a little after 9:10 to catch up my diary and do AP [American Prometheus aka Franklinstein; never did finish that story, and Bob’s Book 2 petered out after a while] page.

Wrote the page, then gathered covers for tomorrow’s NOT (more Lewis). Now at 10:44 PM, I smell the inevitable smoke that besmirches the night air whenever it is finally cool enough to leave the windows open. Bed at 12.

 

9/30/2020: Up about 7:30 AM; conditions were just right for a fair amount of sleep. Perhaps not drinking tea all day helped. Prayers, Bible. Posted on NOT, then through the day worked on setting up a document so I could work on sorting the Wish List without being signed into Amazon. In at 9 AM and made ramen, then made Kam bacon and eggs. He only ate 2 pieces of bacon; he said it tasted funny. They tasted fine to me, but I knew we needed to use up that package. It had been open almost 3 weeks. Defeated Rhapthorne. Almost immediately made myself more ramen, then was able to nap till about 2 PM. Had a grand time working on the list. At 4 PM went it, fed pets, and started the Frito pie. Went in at 5 PM, ate, then said Rosary. Beautiful full moon tonight. Jade tried to run out of the fence when S&A were trying to walk the dogs. Went in and cleaned up about 8:15 PM, then came in and did my two pages; technically, there is nothing else I need to do tonight. But I am thinking of a project of moving around the contents of the “little dresser” drawers, putting things in the one behind the bed that needn’t be so accessible. I did move the Oz and Wonderland display case up onto the shadow-box, which kind of inspired me to try more arranging, but there’s only so much one can do. Bed about 10:30 PM.

NOTES

What can I say? Today is ‘the Birthday’ again, which I will post about a little later. Not much celebration five years ago, no doubt because a) I had no money and b) the medical trip took up too much energy. Still doing seasonal ‘arranging,’ as one’s restlessness prompts. Come on, cooler weather.

 

Your Old Men Shall Dream Dreams

“It is of a dream,” he said; “no more than

that; and yet dreams, too, are under the hand

of the good God, so I hold. Some, I know, are

just folly, and tell us nothing but the con-

fusion of our own nature when the controlling

will is withdrawn; but some, I hold, are the

whispers of God, and tell us of what we are

too dull to hear in our waking life. You do

not believe me ? Very well ; then listen."

-         From Father Stein’s Tale, by Robert Hugh Benson

Haven't Heard This in a While

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OwYQsZuh2CM

Something I always think of as 'downky-downky' music because of the sound the guitar makes.

Update: As it turned out, we went to Movie Night over at John's today, rather unexpectedly for a Saturday. John had not seen this post and we had not decided what movie we'd watch. Eventually we landed on The Shining. Imagine my surprise when I heard Danny watching some cartoons in the film, and this theme came on! I didn't know it was there, and John hadn't seen the post. Just another of those Minor Mysteries that mean nothing but keep popping up.

"And the Walls Came A-Tumbling Down"

Ten days ago, I wrote this:

“I have always liked to have my books on shelves (or at least in drawers) so that they would be somewhat available. But now I’m thinking about … well, not selling any books, but maybe putting some up in bins, thinning the herd as it were, to get easier access to what remains.

“This would be an enormous undertaking, and very finicky if done correctly. Every bin would have to be catalogued and labeled so I could find what had been put away more easily. Books would probably have to be grouped according to size, not subject matter, and that would discomfort my fussy nature, like an itch at the back of the brain. And where would I put the bins? My little house is already almost stacked to the gills.

“Anyway, it seems to be growing into one of those restless Fall projects.”

Yesterday (Sept. 19), at approximately 8:45 AM, the Universe gave me a goosing as a bit of a prod to get on with it. With a sudden crash and a clatter, two shelves of a five-shelf bookcase came tumbling down. Fortunately, there was nothing breakable on them (mostly Pogo figures and Crest animals) though the box with my Harry Potter light-up wand may have got a new nick in it. Happily, none of the books landed badly or with bent pages. Those two shelves had always been a bit precarious and needed careful loading (only one of them had had a half a line of books). Now that one shelf was (as far as I could tell) totally out of commission.

My heart sank and I could feel the fluid draining from my spine in dread and weariness. I picked everything up and moved it out of the way as best I could. I could do nothing about it right away; my niece Kelsey was coming over to hang out with me and Kameron. We spent the day watching the first two volumes of The Groovie Goolies; I had shared the show with them when they were younger and now it was part of their childhood nostalgia. As we shmoozed and nattered and looked up trivia (Who did that voice? Who was that character based on?) my ruffled spirits were smoothed. But there was always going in the back of my head: where can I move these books? How can I get this all set up again?

When Kelsey left at 3 PM, we noticed Susan sitting out sunning herself, trying to dry up her running sinuses. We all went over to talk to her. I took the opportunity to talk to her about plastic bins. As it turns out she had forty extra left over from her Great Cleansing and was more than happy to let me have four of them to use for my sorting. Maybe not this weekend, but soon. So that obviates any extra expense. Thank Heaven (and Susan). Storage is beginning to get mighty costly.

I spent most of the evening reshuffling things and patching up what I could. It inevitably reminded me of the Mad Tea Party, with everyone moving one space down to get into new seats. At last, by 9 PM things were, if not settled down where I imagine they ultimately will be, at least in such order that my mind could rest for the night. Everything was a bit cleaner and better organized. I had had a lot of Dana Gould on the YouTube while I worked, and I was in a more jovial mood. Altogether the day ended on a better note than I could have imagined when it began.

Here's how the shelf looks now:

Compared to some of the shelves I see on fancy podcasts and videos, it looks like the efforts of some mad sort of cargo cult, but it fulfills my needs for the moment.

Friday Fiction: Three Wishes

THREE WISHES

There was a sudden whump, and then there were two shadowy figures looking around the grade school library. An aquarium softly bubbled along one wall. One of the figures clicked on a very ordinary but strong flashlight, revealing himself to be a far from ordinary figure dressed in ancient Arabian finery. A gold ring flashed in his ear and a twisted thin black beard framed his grimacing mouth.

“This must be the place. The rest is up to you, old man.”

The light swung and momentarily showed the squinting face of the other, a fat man with spindly limbs, grey beard, and balding head.

“All right, all right, just get that damn light out of my eyes.” The voice was slurred over bad teeth. “And show me where it is. Do you think I can remember after fifty years?”

The first sighed.

“All part of the service. ‘Your wish is my command,’ I suppose.”

“This is not another wish,” the other snapped quickly. “It’s all part of the first. You have to take me where I can find it. If I can’t find it, no first wish.”

The fantastically clad figure sighed and spun around a bit until the flashlight beam illuminated one of the low shelves.

“There.” His voice was laconic.

The old man hobbled over on his cane and leaned down, squinting. After a moment a shaking hand pulled out a slim volume and began scanning the pages. He mumbled, reading to himself. “… the Terrapin Turtle of Zanzibar …” He suddenly grinned a toothless grin.

“Yes. Yes, this is it. I recognize the illustrations. And that silly poem.  I’ve never remembered the title or the author, but this is it.”

“Very good, then. On to your second wish?”

The old man breathed in the ancient smell of the book filled room as if he were trying to snuff up a memory. He looked around a little regretfully, then clasped the volume tighter to his chest.

“Yeah. Let’s get this over with. Onward.”

There was another whump, and the room was empty again. After a few seconds, a book quietly leaned over onto another book where there was a sudden gap on the shelves. Nobody noticed the absence for five years.

A few years longer than that and there was another whump. The two now stood inside a house, its rooms ringing with absence. It was totally quiet except for the barking of a neighborhood dog and the distant hum of the plumbing. The old man stood there in silence looking around intently until his eyes starting blinking with tears. Finally, he spoke.

“Are you sure no-one is going to interrupt us?”

The other put his hand up to his turban and seemed to be consulting some sort of inner vision. Then he snapped out of it and spoke with conviction.

“They all left to go camping just this morning. They’re not coming back for three days.”

“Okay.” The old man’s voice trembled. “Let’s get it. I don’t know how long I can stand being here. I want to take it all back with me, and I can’t do that.”

“No, you can’t,” the other said matter-of-factly. “Where is it exactly?”

“That was always the problem. I could never remember afterward. That’s why I don’t have it anymore. I’m afraid you’ll have to show me again.”

The fantastic figure sighed and spun around again, one long pointy fingernail suddenly indicating the hidden place. With a cry the old man went digging, and finally withdrew an old spiral notebook from its hidey hole and held it up in triumph.

“At last! After all these years!” He cackled with glee and turned the pages joyfully. He scanned the drawings and the scrawly handwriting – his handwriting! – in all its painful, cramped effort. “It seems … smaller than I remember it.”

Bearded lips smirked and the earring jingled in glee.

“Do you now realize why you were never able to find it again?”

The old man looked up, mystified.

“Because you came back and stole it from yourself!” Laughter burst out, ringing through the empty rooms. The old man scowled.

“Your merriment is ill-timed,” he said sourly, and shut the notebook, holding it more closely to his body with the library book in one tight fist, gazing at the other unpleasantly. Had he been had over this second wish?

“Ah, me.” The strange figure’s chuckles began to die away and ended in one last amused sigh. “I always forget how little you people understand about time. Well. Shall we get a move on?”

“I wonder if …”

But there was another whump, and the house was empty once more.

Whump. “I know this wish wasn’t my fault. Are we safe?” They were in the house again, and now it was showing its age. The back bedroom was cluttered with walls of boxes and cobwebs wafted in its neglected corners. “I know they’re here. Do you want to save us both time by showing me which box they’re in?”

“Quite safe. Your mother is here, but she is napping in the living room. And no, you cannot tiptoe out to see her. Rules, you know.” Again the inner consultation, again the pointing finger. “It is up to you to be as silent as you can.”

With practiced care and stealth the old man began dismantling the wall of boxes, memorizing their order to leave as little trace as possible. Finally, he reached the hoped-for stash, unfolding the flaps to reveal a glittering mound of sequined felt.

“Our old Christmas stockings.” He could hardly contain himself. His hand trembled wildly as he gathered them up, one by one. He looked up with bright eyes, gloating quietly. “I tried to preserve them, you know, but Mom insisted they be kept with the family things. And then Pop just threw them out after she passed away.”

“Wonderful.” The other looked bored. “You know, some people wish for fabulous wealth, or revenge, or even good health or something when they get three wishes. Your desires seem to be rather … modestly mundane.”

“They are memories,” the old man said. He held the stockings up and inhaled deeply, then began putting the boxes back carefully and quietly. ”Or even the filling of gaps where memories should be. At my age, what could be more precious, if your magic cannot bring back the dead? At my age, what can I really enjoy? It is enough.” He turned and looked regretfully toward the living room.

“Now take me back. Take me back, genie, before I break my heart.”

The other bowed his head. There was a last whump, and time flowed back into the hole they had left. There was a snort, then a rising call from the other room.

“B.B.?”

 

-September 18 2025, 8 PM

NOTES

Yesterday I had no idea about this story. I only knew I wanted something for Friday Fiction. I made a new document and between 6 PM and 8 PM I had followed this bit to its conclusion. It's in a genre I constantly return to, something like 'rewrite your life' or 'speak it into existence' or even just some kind of half-assed therapy. The first wish is a bit of a cheat; I suppose with enough searching and effort I could find that book. But the other two ... that would take some kind of magic. Their objects are unreproducible. Maybe I could just wish not to care about them anymore. But I do, my mind returning to their subjects again and again, like a tongue searching out the space where a tooth has been. Maybe it's just where I deflect a vast and shapeless yearning, part of the regrets of the changing year. Anyway, the story's sudden existence seems like a sad bit of magic: first it wasn't here, and now it is. Such as it is. It didn't exist twenty-four hours ago. Now it goes on, indefinitely.

Babel Babble

“Snow snakes.” [for snow flakes]

“Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears … for I am deaf.”

“Eee-mediately!” [do it now]

“Fall on your knees and get your pimples squeezed.”

“Right quick fast in a hurry.” [hustle it up]

“Slowly I turn … step by step … inch by inch …” [playful menace, from an old vaudville sketch]

“I want a naked froggie for my zoo!” [playful menace, to get kids to dress after a bath]

“Thank you, music lovers!” [this was a 1960 record by Spike Milligan; relevant?]

“Oink?”

“Flyswater” [for icewater]

“Hook ‘em!” [get outta here]

“Cut a trail!” [make tracks, hurry up]

More Babelese, mostly from Mom and Pop. There were some bits from songs and comedy routines, but a lot of it was to get a sluggish herd of reluctant kids moving. Even the 'playful menace' was amusing, and oh so preferable to actual threats of violence. I think we have an old recording of Pop giving the 'Friends, Romans, and countrymen' joke (to test our new tape recorder); at least I know we had.