01 October, 2021

The Corona Diaries Vol 31: Saved by the Madonna del Ghisallo

(mid-August 2021)

While out on a recent bike ride, I came across a real antique automobile.


My internet sleuthing leads me to believe it's a Ford Model A from the late 1920s or early 1930s. I think running boards are highly underrated and deserve a comeback.

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The census numbers are in and they say Madison now has a population of 269,840. Or did as of the middle of last year, up from 233,209 in 2010. The county we reside in, Dane, went from 488,073 to 561,504 and this represents about a third of the population growth in the entire state. While these are not Sunbelt numbers, they're not bad for the Upper Midwest and our growth will engender many changes. For instance, from what I've read, another seat will be created in the State Assembly to accommodate the increasing population of our county while our Congressional District will have a chunk of it chopped off and merged into another District to help keep things even-steven.

Unfortunately, the Republicans in our legislature are happy to screw over Madison & Dane County whenever the opportunity presents itself. Just this summer they cut public transit funding to Madison and Milwaukee by 50% each. They justified the cuts by saying that Wisconsin's two biggest cities/Democratic strongholds were getting money from the federal pandemic relief plans. However, other transit agencies around the state are also getting federal relief money but the Legislature didn't cut state aid to them.

For now, we await the state's redistricting process which will surely end up in court. If that goes well – i.e. – fairly – we will turn bluer and theoretically have more sympathetic politicos at the Capitol.

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I left off last entry having decided to bike east on Femrite Drive out of Madison and see what I could see since I don't think I've ever been on it east of the interstate. Femrite Drive in on the southeast side of town and the stretch of it I'd been on before is largely warehouses and industrial businesses. For instance, DuPont has a facility on it plus a coffee roaster, electric contractors, a sheet metal fabricator, and an intercity bus operator all call the street home.

Near one of the buildings, I saw a couple of turkeys taking a leisurely stroll.


East of the interstate, the area becomes less developed with more fields and fewer warehouses and offices. At one point the industry ends and it's all farmland and homes. It was absolutely gorgeous on this stretch with verdant, rolling hills and fresh smelling air.


There were some moderately creepy looking farm ruins just off the road that I stopped at.


At one intersection I spied a Trachte building in the distance to the north. I am used to seeing them in the city but I occasionally spy one out in the country.


To the south was the Dane County Landfill where all of our waste is buried.


A few months ago, I read an article about how the current landfill is running out of space and so the county is looking to expand it. Since so much of the waste that enters the landfill is food, the city is trying to convince residents to collect compostable organic waste and bring it to one of the drop-off sites in town. This would extend the life of the landfill and reduce the production of methane, a nasty greenhouse gas.

Luckily for me none of the hills were particularly steep so I was treated to a nice, easy-going ride. Well, mostly. One uphill stretch ran alongside a farm and I heard barking as I slowly pedaled my way up the slope. There was a pudgy dog that looked like an overweight foxhound standing between a barn and another outbuilding scowling at me as it sounded its canine klaxon. Then it bolted.

Crap.

It made a beeline for me and, for a hound that was a little on the portly side, it didn't take long to reach me. If it wasn't bad enough to be struggling to pedal up the hill, I now had an angry sounding hound at my ankle. Like the dog, I am overweight and out of shape to boot, so there was no way I could get up that incline quick enough to outrun my canine pursuer. I could feel its fur brushing against my ankle and its breath as well with every bark. I downshifted and gained a little more speed but not enough to outrun this creature in its dogged pursuit. I mean, it had 4 legs and I had only 2 wheels, after all.

Fortunately, the Madonna del Ghisallo was smiling upon me that day and the hound got tired and/or bored as I finally reached the top of the hill and it gave up its pursuit.

I found myself at the intersection with a couple state highways, my ankle having emerged from the encounter bite free. After crossing, I discovered that I was now on Siggelkow Road, a classic German name if there ever was one, which meant I was likely a bit east of McFarland, a town that abuts Madison to the southeast. As before, there was some absolutely lovely scenery.

The problem was that there were some rather steep hills and I could feel my heart thumping in my chest as I struggled to bike up a couple of them. "Was this what it was like for that guy in that Edgar Allan Poe story?" I asked myself between wheezes. I thought I was going to die so I dismounted and walked my bike up these monsters. When I hear my heart in my chest, I get paranoid. Heart disease is rampant in my family and I think I am just going to keel over and die like the old man did.

Despite my cardiac concerns, it was a beautiful ride and I discovered a new orchard for my trouble. Two or 3 miles later I was in McFarland on the Lower Yahara River Trail, just a few miles from downtown.

On one stretch of the trail, I ran into a muskrat – out of water.


Before long I was downtown and I was able to stop to get something to drink. Like a doofus, I had neglected to bring any liquid refreshment with me. I won't forget next time.

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I have seen a couple movies recently. The first was Annette, a musical, albeit a very odd one.


I saw director Leos Carax's previous film, Holy Motors, so I knew I was in for something well outside of the mainstream.

It involves a raffish stand-up comedian, played by Adam Driver, who marries a charming opera singer, played by Marion Cotillard, after a whirlwind romance. They have a daughter, Annette, that is portrayed by a marionette(!!) for most of the movie. The story takes a turn towards the Sophoclean as a little uxoricide follows and the child seeks revenge on her father. 

The music was good and the movie was a lot of fun all around. I was lucky enough to see it in a theater but you can watch it on Amazon Prime.

My next cinematic experience was The Green Knight, a retelling of the 14th century poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.


It's been 5 years or thereabouts since I've read the poem and can recall only bits and pieces of it so I had to consult medieval historians on the differences between the two works. I did remember that Gawain is a gallant Knight of the Roundtable in the poem whereas the filmic Gawain is rather cowardly. I knew that he stopped at a castle on his way to meet the Green Knight and had an encounter with the lord's wife too. But that was about all.

Not unlike the Nixon tapes, the poem has a gap between Gawain leaving town to seek out the Green Knight and him finding the verdant cavalier. The poem doesn't specify what happened beyond our hero's little venture at the castle. The movie, however, fills in that time. Amongst other things, Gawain encounters a race of giants and has a run-in with one Saint Winifred. There was a historical Saint Winifred and she is reputed to have suffered from the same problem the one in the movie did: she lost her head.

Despite these adventures not appearing in the source material, they have a genuine medieval feel to them and don't stick out like a sore thumb as 21st century additions to the tale.

The Green Knight is not an action movie. Instead, it is a character study. It's about Gawain becoming a good and virtuous member of Arthur's Roundtable. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

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The bonus photo here is of one of our cats, Marilyn. She's about 13 and demands dinner by 5 o'clock, although she begins petitioning us for chow around 3:30 when she wakes up from her nap. If we get home late, she greets us in the window with a hangry look that is a mixture of sheer agony and disdain.

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