The Cauldron No. 2
Second in the series titled “The Cauldron” – the circa 1930’s and 1940’s musings of Nelson Douglass Jr. aka Granville Douglass. Enjoy his views and insights of yesteryear, laced with humor, honesty, and sincerity.
Nelson Douglass Jr. was my paternal Grandfather. A man I never met on the physical plane but know intimately through the wealth of writing, notes and stories he left. I am working on a book about a small segment of his life, which you can read about on my website dedicated to this work.
The Cauldron No. 2 by Granville Douglass
Capital vs. Labor –
The many strikes we have witnessed and still are witnessing bring to mind the logic of David Swing who said that capital is nothing but condensed labor, and that it is worthless until labor takes hold of it. Swing made the observation that capital and labor really are one and that they will draw close together as the world advances in intelligence. Which we all hope to live to see.
Things I Miss –
The old familiar sight of a messenger on a bicycle carrying a lunch tray on his head. And the watch fobs we all used to wear. Ever since I entered the bald half of my life, I’ve missed these things.
Symbol of Modern Times –
These gaudy balloons which the studios send up when they are shooting a sound picture so that airplanes, flying overhead, will keep far enough away not to let the sound of their motors interfere, indicate how far we have gone from the days of early movies with the piano player down front and the times when a plane overhead brought the whole neighborhood outside to look.
Stop and consider the generation between twenty three and twenty five years of age. We were at war when they were born. Then peace and the reconstruction period, while they were kids. Prohibition and the bootleg era while they were growing up. Gangsters and wide disregard of the law. A crazy boom and then the crash, while they were at the half-way mark. They’ve heard nothing but depression, failures, debts and all kinds of trouble ever since. They’ve seen a world-wide crazy form of philosophy working its way into the blood stream of the world. A machine age, technocracy, racketeering in labor, managed economy and the development of class consciousness. And now another war in Europe and all of us on the dangerous edge of it. If we get into it, these are the fellows we’ll send to take the brunt of it. What a life – not a normal year in it. But after all, what shall we call normal times?
Reflections of a Bachelor –
Any girl who thinks that no man is good enough for her, may often be right, but in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, she is left.
Who was it said that successful despots as in the case of successful speculators are limited to those few who die at the proper time? The affair overseas makes me think of the wisdom of the statement. Out of this ruckus you’re going to see history repeat itself. Already Hitler has acquired more land per square-head than he can handle.
And speaking of strikes, why is it that window washers never go to a sit-down strike?
The other day I attended my first launching. The thrill of the thing still clings to me. As the big freighter, a twelve thousand tonner, slid sideways down into the channel, every whistle and horn in the area paid tribute. Perched on scaffolding and other places of vantage were the men who had taken part in the building of the ship. They were proud of her and they yelled themselves hoarse as she slid gracefully into the water. I couldn’t help but wonder what part the Alcoa Pennant would play in the struggle which has enmeshed the whole world. What cargoes would she carry – and into what ports. Would she run afoul of lurking submarines or touch off deadly mines in wanderings through forbidden zones. Would she become the subject of an international “incident”. What the future might easily hold for this splendid product of American craftsmanship made the event, spirited as it was, a wee bit sad.
In on of the clubs in London, the members have invented a new game which they play during air raids. It goes like this – When an air-raid signal is given, the members break up into groups of four and, each carrying a bottle of Scotch, run for the air-raid shelter. The first one to finish off his bottle leaves and the other three try to guess who is missing from the foursome.
Henry David Thoreau, believer in the simple life, is responsible for many expressed thoughts which always will be worth repeating. One which I have always liked particularly well is this — “A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can afford to let alone.”
Oh many a shaft at random sent,
Finds mark the archer little meant;
And many a word, at random spoken,
May sooth or wound a heart that’s broken.
– Walter Scott