The White Tornado is a clothing magnet. She attracts clothing.

 

It began with a toaster, so I suppose we may also say that she is a small appliances magnet. Yes, she also attracted a four cup coffee maker and a canister vacuum cleaner.

 

How can this be?

 

Well, I did have an idea for a story about the caretaker, or property manager, of a large estate who meets a young lady one day and ends up bringing her home to the grand house he is managing. The family are away at the time. She – the young lady that is – becomes familiar with the massive estate over time as her relationship with the caretaker advances. By and by, the people who own the house return, or begin to appear, introducing themselves to her. They express a level of interest appropriate to the situation. She is their property manager’s girlfriend, and he is for all intents and purposes a fixture, or a part of the family.

 

But I think there must be a rival or two for her affections – perhaps a former boyfriend on the outside, in another town, still in communication with her. Or better yet – a fellow who is in love with her but resigned by long custom to being her buddy. I also think the family should have a young-ish son, younger than she is, rich (of course), handsome. He is smitten with her as well, and he makes it apparent. Of course, there’s a little tension there between the caretaker and the rich young brat who’s trying to pull his bird, but you never know really if he is in earnest, these playboy types being what they are. But there are several possibilities for drama there.

 

At that point the storyline will be interrupted from pursuing the directions we suppose it may when the girl – our heroine – begins to experience some very strange and frightening waking dreams, for instance coming upon the daughter of the house having water pouring out of her eye sockets as though it came through an open tap. Then – bang – the vision is gone. The girl wonders is she having a relapse?

 

A relapse of what? Ah-hah – this is where the outside ‘boyfriend’ comes in. He knows her from before. She has a history of mental illness. Rescuing her from herself brings our knight in shining armor to town. Obviously, there is going to be a confrontation.

 

Anyhooo, as you’ve probably surmised, the family members are dead. The whole car load of them crashed into the lake some years back. The caretaker, who received the estate in the event of such a quirky circumstance, has been carrying on as though they were still there – laying the fires, and so on – although in reality he is haunted. As the girl spent more and more time with him, only then did they begin to appear, one by one, and seem to inhabit the house. Blah blah blah, etc.

 

I thought of this whilst working in just such a house for just such a property manager and his family, and told the WT what I was thinking as we were working. She thought it was cool.

 

For anyone reading The White Lodge for the first time I should explain that, apart from working for twenty-five years in the printing business and being a free-lance journalist, I have lived a life devoted to service. I have bussed. I have butled. I have been a tour guide, a custodian. Now I have my own service-oriented businesses - cleaning, painting, properties management. My current partner in this latest endeavor is Elizabeth, a five-foot-naught 98 pound sugar-enhanced dynamo, whom I refer to as the White Tornado, and sometimes as the Amazing Monkey Girl, this due to her seemingly supernatural abilities finding balance on extremely tall ladders and in other places where human beings - most of us having not a prehensile tail - would never dare go. 

 

Well, a customer of mine ordered a toaster on-line, and when it came she intended to throw away her old toaster. This new one she ordered, by the way, seems to be intent on world domination – what with all its magnificent stainless steel silliness. Even my customer – no stranger to absurdly ostentatious appliances – said she felt slightly threatened by it. But the old one – a four slot affair wide enough to accommodate bagels – was laid aside to be eventually discarded, and the White Tornado asked if she could have it.

 

“But it’s broken!” my customer said, “One of the slots doesn’t work.”

 

Well, here we have a clash of cultures. I stood by watching this exchange with amusement. It was just as impossible for the White Tornado to imagine how a person could be so wasteful as it was for the customer to imagine actually using something which had once been used by someone else. But it was not as though the WT was asking for the woman’s used undergarments. You might have thought so to see my customer’s absolutely aghast expression, an expression which spoke “Oh you poor thing!” with complete contempt and sincerity.

 

Since that day, it seems we cannot come into contact with anybody without the WT being given bags full of clothing. Word gets around. She could open a boutique at this point.

 

Well, it turns out you’re just exactly the same size as my daughter who is throwing away all her clothing because she joined a vegan nudist commune…

 

Perhaps you think I’m kidding? Keep thinking. Practice makes perfect.

 

I recently thought as how it may be time to purchase a new winter coat. I had to produce my driver’s license at a bank a few days ago, and in the process had the opportunity to look at it for the first time in… well, since I got it, eight years ago. I noticed it was due to be renewed. I also noticed I was wearing the same winter coat in the picture as I had on that very same day, and it wasn’t new when the picture was taken.

 

Well now, I suppose it is getting a little worn in spots, says I.

 

So, I found two rather nice coats down at the local Thrift – one heavy, to wear when I am outdoors minding a few of the lake side properties I manage, and the other one a bit lighter. The following day I showed off my new (used) purchases for the White Tornado when she arrived. And she said, “You should have saved your money. I think I have some in inventory.”

 

That, anyway, is the gist of what she said.  

 

 

Without much time, but knowing I must write something, I will recall for you the gist of a short exchange between my Dad and me last night. He suggested that my “handle,” (old CB radio fan that he is), may be inappropriate or inadequate. Instead of “Squabbler” he offered “Illuminator.” I asked, “But where does that leave The Squabbler? Will he have to write a separate blog?”

 

Well, Dad is a very humble fellow – not in the sense of poverty, but in the sense of possessing the extremely rare attribute of true humility. He could call himself “Dad The Great” without demonstrating arrogance but mere honesty. While it is good to know that he finds my writings illuminating, and I could hope for nothing more, it seems to me that such judgments are to be made by others if they are to be made at all.

 

We then turned to the related subject of God speaking through us. The person through whom the Holy Spirit is speaking knows it is the Holy Spirit speaking. He knows this not because he is telling himself it is true, or he really wants it to be true. He knows it in the same way he knows it is cloudy when there are clouds or sunny when the clouds are absent, or that the table before him is red, green, or blue. I may know these other things too, but I don’t know – and I have never known – whether the Holy Spirit is speaking to you through me. Until such time as I do, therefore, I remain the Squabbler.

 

I do know the Holy Spirit reads what I write, and that He will be here tomorrow with several other readers who write blogs on Blogstream.

 

I must dash into the shower and off to work, leaving you with some weird music. The future, (which will be the present when it arrives), will return us to a less worldly, more internal White Lodge. Going over some old postings last night I remarked (internally) upon the evolution of the blog during this past year from the playful arcane musings of a mind turned in upon itself to a podium for the expression of certain opinions – which is fine. Rule Number One is that there is no rule. But I feel a little like one who is tired from weeks of running about with a message for others, however true, and wants nothing more consummately than a hot bath in the presence of naught but his peace within the confines of home.

 

 

Also, The White Lodge was much funnier when it was about myphets rather than kings.

 

 

Should I play computer Solitaire this morning, or write something? If I am asking myself such a question I should better stick with the cards, for whatever I wrote would probably not be worth reading.

 

But – bloomin blazes! – this is Wednesday morning, which means I completely forgot to post FM&M last night. Let us pretend that did not happen, shall we?

 

It’s my brain, Doctor – I need one.

 

Today I have tagged my offering as “hip hop.” The Imeem site requires that I add a category tag to my uploads, and they offer no appropriate choice. “Other” would suffice.

Anyhoo, this is the first program of 1941.

 

Later this week, when I can find some time, and when the allure of playing cards is not quite so overwhelming, I will write about… something. Topic, please?

 

Of course, this Sunday I am expecting a White Lodge full of corporeal rather than ethereal blogstreamers. A few of us who live within reasonable driving distance will be getting together here. Perhaps The Lady will join us, and My Caterer Friend. I am hoping The White Tornado will stop by, (though I may have to pay her to do so), and my father might be here as well. I am sure that will inspire something!

 

 

 

As promised earlier this week, here is the 1940 pilot episode of the CBS program, “Suspense!” This was Alfred Hitchcock’s first foray into directing for radio, but not his last. He agreed to do it on condition that a portion of the program would include a plug for his new film, “Foreign Correspondent” – which it does. This historic broadcast also features Herbert Marshall and Edmund Gwenn, both of whom were stars of the upcoming film. The story is an adaptation of Marie Belloc Lowndes’ “The Lodger,” which Hitchcock had directed for film in 1926.

 

This program, as you will notice, premiered as a CBS “Forecast” offering in which new things were tried out for a radio audience to see if they warranted regular production. It originally aired on July 22, 1940. Throughout the 40’s “Suspense!” built an appreciative audience, hitting its stride in the early to mid 1950’s. The program’s eventual format would feature an introduction by the mysterious “Man in Black,” portrayed by Joseph Kearns and Ted Osborne, with many of the adaptations of classic mystery stories the show offered written by John Dickson Carr. The program’s sponsor through most of the 40’s was Roma Wines.

 

 

In the 50’s “Suspense!” was produced by Elliot Lewis who developed the program further by casting well-known radio comedy actors in the mystery/thriller series. Jack Benny did a show, as did Jim and Marion Jordan (whom we know as Fibber McGee and Molly.) Also from FM&M, pitchman Harlow Wilcox joined “Suspense!” in the 1950’s, fulfilling the same role for Autolite Sparkplugs as he had so successfully for Johnson’s Wax – but this time as an announcer rather than an actual character in the show.

 

The final episode of “Suspense!” aired in 1962, perhaps bringing to a close the Golden Age of Radio. It was a darn good run. Throughout its long, successful history “Suspense!” became a regular venue for big name Hollywood screen actors, and often the scripts challenged them to go against type. The list is an impressive one: Ronald Coleman, Cary Grant, Humphrey Bogart, Orson Wells, Lucille Ball – it just goes on and on. Wells appeared several times, once in a rare two-part adaptation of Curt Siodmak’s “Donovan’s Brain,” – also quite rare insofar as Science Fiction was not generally done on “Suspense!” Just as unusual was the adaptation of the H.P. Lovecraft story, “The Dunwich Horror,” which remains one of the very few dramatic renderings of a Lovecraft story to be any darn good at all.

 

The most popular program featured Agnes Moorehead in Lucille Fletcher’s “Sorry, Wrong Number” in 1943. Moorehead would go on to recreate the part in several stage performances. Of course it was Barbara Stanwyck who appeared as the terrified, bedridden woman tormented by a sinister telephone caller in the 1948 film version which earned her an Academy Award nomination. Stanwyck went on to reprise the role for radio on The Lux Theater program.

 

So, this program is a little unusual for The White Lodge. It’s very mainstream, very polished. I usually favor the low-budget underdogs like “Lights Out, Everybody” and “Escape.” What makes Fibber McGee and Molly so attractive to me is its wacky vaudeville tone and its one-take spontaneity. Still, “Suspense!” was the very best vignette thriller series on radio during the Golden Age.

 

It’s interesting too that “Suspense!” ventured into television in 1949 where it was obviously an early pioneer in that medium. But the “Suspense!” television series only ran until 1954, so the radio program actually outlived the television program. Well, what do ya know about that? Funny.

 

Merry Christmas! Again. Yes, it’s “Little Christmas,” or the Feast of Epiphany. This is actually the original Christmas Day, by the way. We changed it. Why? I’ll tell you another time. I’ll tell you in such a way that I hope will not bore you. Anyhoo, this day marked the end of my family’s observance of Christmas. Any time now we would have begun making some moves to take the tree down. I’ll be taking my own tree down tomorrow. (Maybe.) And – speaking of boring – here is more information about the Magi.

 

What sort of world did the Magi discover upon their arrival in Judea?

 

I have often seen Jerusalem depicted as a ‘backwater’ of the Roman Empire. In various film versions of the life of Christ it has been so. Perhaps by comparison to Rome itself it is true that there were Romans who said so, but at the time of Our Lord’s birth King Herod the Great (BC 73-BC 4) was coming to the end of a long life and reign which was chock full of amazing achievements, the effect of which had made his kingdom every bit as important as Alexandria and other major ports. Herod was given a very wide berth by the Roman Emperor Augustus who respected and feared him. As a result, King Herod the Great enjoyed tremendous power independent of Rome, at times bordering on complete autonomy. But he knew that having Augustus as his far more powerful friend was the source and cause of this unusual circumstance.

 

Herod’s family came from Edom, which is significant because they were therefore descendents of Abraham through Isaac and Esau rather than Isaac and Jacob. What does that mean? That means their ancestors did not go into Egypt with Joseph and return from there with Moses and Joshua. While the Bible story of the Exodus is going on Herod’s people are pursuing their own destiny and adventures independently of the Hebrews, but they consider themselves Jews nonetheless. King Herod the Great’s father Antipater converted the family to the Temple Judaism of Jerusalem for what may be viewed by history as purely political reasons, but in any event, the Herods could lay claim to being truly Jewish kings, and they did adhere – though imperfectly – to Mosaic Law.

 

Of course, there was a great deal of prejudice directed against the Jews whom by whatever circumstance had not gone into Egypt and been delivered there from by Moses. They kept God’s Covenant with Abraham as though all of that history and tradition between Exodus and the present day had never occurred. Try to imagine that. Wow. Throughout all those adventures that make Jewish people Jewish those folks were at an entirely different party. They were – what? – two Covenants removed from their Mosaic Law cousins.

 

Anyhoo, King Herod’s father converted to the principle form of Hebrew orthodoxy and Herod the Great himself followed in that tradition, but he was also quite Roman. He had been educated in Rome and he saw to it that his sons were educated in Rome. The house of King Herod would have been what we might call ‘eclectic.’ His Jewish ancestry and faith was probably represented in much the same way we Americans represent our Irish ancestry or Italian ancestry, or whatever.

 

 

How Herod managed to ingratiate himself with the Roman Emperor is a story in itself. During the civil war of 31 he had supported Marc Antony and Cleopatra, finding himself suddenly on the losing side. Quickly he sailed to Rhodes to meet with Octavian (Augustus) and, in an audacious speech, boasted of his great love for Marc Antony and assured Octavian that he would be loved just as much now that he was the victor. Of course, Marc Antony and Cleopatra were still alive at that point, in Alexandria, and they still posed a threat. Octavian thought it wise to have Herod as an ally and so rewarded him with yet more territory and independence. As it happens, Marc Antony and Cleopatra very famously committed suicide, leaving Octavian as sole ruler of Rome and saving Herod the trouble of massing an army to fight for his now supremely powerful new friend.

 

Also in 31 a terrible earthquake destroyed much of Jerusalem, and Herod, who was already known as a great builder of cities (Caesarian) and rebuilder of cities (Jericho) began a massive Jerusalem ‘make-over,’ which culminated at last in the rebuilding of the Temple in BC 20. He was criticized rather broadly, however, for the Greco-Roman style of his architecture. Herod had previously built pagan Roman temples in honor of the new Emperor in Caesarian and elsewhere, something for which orthodox Jews would never forgive him.

 

Of course, the Sadducees hated him too, for in order to consolidate and assure his power Herod had had their kinsman and his chief rival for the throne, Hrycanus, executed back in 31. This was after he had famously bargained with the Parthian king for his release from exile in Babylonia, who was all too willing to be rid of him as he was becoming quite popular amongst the Babylonian Jews.

 

Herod’s Temple was also more than a little too Roman for the Jews. To add insult to injury Herod had installed above the door a golden Roman eagle, symbol of imperial authority and – as far as two very powerful teachers in the rabbinical sect of the Pharisees were concerned – clearly in violation of the Ten Commandments. These teachers, Judas and Matthias, finally incited their students to remove the eagle in BC 8, at a time when the old king seemed to be close to death. In retribution, (and not yet dying, despite the rumors), Herod had them all burned alive.

 

In that year too Herod had his son Aristobulus executed in order to prevent him from the succession. Another of his sons would be executed in BC 4, leading the Roman Emperor, who loved a good pun, to quip, “It is better to be Herod’s pig (hus) than Herod’s son (hious).” (This was particularly insulting as Herod had at least - even if he had not been so diligent elsewhere - kept a strictly Kosher household.)

 

Also, at around this time, there was a tremendous buzz amongst the Jews who had calculated that there had been 76 generations since Creation. The Messiah, whom they believed from prophesy would emerge to free them from foreign rule, was to come out of the 77^th.

 

Enter the Magi.

 

King Herod was ‘Great’ from a purely pragmatic point of view, but he was despised by his own people, and that situation was becoming uglier and more tense by the time most historians place the birth of Jesus, in BC 7. When the deposition of Magian priests and Chaldean astronomers arrived from Babylonia to pay homage to the newly-born king of prophesy it was in the midst of this situation that they found the now ailing old King of Judea. It’s little wonder the Angel would tell them in a dream not to return to Herod’s court again after they had been to Bethlehem.

 

Following the visit of the Magi we are informed that Herod instructed that all the young males (under 2) in Bethlehem should be slaughtered, precipitating the flight into Egypt of the Holy Family in fulfillment of yet another prophesy, or rather, several. Although the gospels provide our only record of this event, it is certainly consistent of what is known from other sources about Herod’s character.

 

 

But this is where one source of history ends and a different one must begin, for our chief source of information about the life and times of Herod the Great is the prolific writings of a fellow named Flavius Josephus, (pictured above - a close personal friend of The Squabbler’s I am told), and he says nothing at all about the Babylonians’ pilgrimage or the subsequent Slaughter of the Innocents. Why? We can’t know for certain, but it may be that he simply didn’t find the event all that interesting, or it may be because he was a Pharisee who would have been therefore disinclined to use Matthew’s gospel as a source, for by that time Jerusalem had fallen to Titus and was utterly destroyed, leaving the Gospel as the only surviving record of these events.

 

Yes, the Magi existed. Yes, they came to see the new born Christ in Bethlehem. And yes, every record of that event except the Gospel of Matthew is lost to antiquity, leading some historians to surmise it must never have occurred, which is rubbish.

 

That’s exactly like saying that any historical information which was lost forever in the burning of Alexandria never happened simply because the record of it was lost. You won’t find too many historians making such a claim, but where the Bible is involved they do it all the time. Instead of saying, “We don’t know any more about it than Matthew tells us, and wish we did,” they say, “It just never happened.” It’s an interesting bias applied by historians to Biblical events which they do not apply to obscured history of a non-Biblical origin.

 

We do know that there were at least nine legitimate Messianic sects – Christians becoming the dominant one – around AD 70, recorded information of which was utterly destroyed in the fall of Jerusalem. If we want to speculate about where any substantiating evidence of the visit of the Magi to Bethlehem in BC 7 or 8 might be, those ashes would be a good place to start. As it is, much of our information must come either from non-Jewish sources, and whatever they thought was important, or from the writings of Flavius, which provide his perspective. Otherwise, we must be content to rely upon the Gospels as the sole source of information about the Magian visit and several other events which are not recorded elsewhere.