J. Robert Oppenheimer’s creation led to the Duck and Cover era. We who grew up during the Cuban missile crisis and the Cold War had our own childhood worries. Thank goodness, we didn’t have active shooter drills in school, but we did have drills where we were told to get under our desks to shield us in the event of a nuclear attack, as if that would actually save us.
I have a vivid memory of one drill in elementary school where the boys had to shield the girls out in the hallway. I became a feminist that day and now compliment myself for being ahead of the times. We lived in Mount Kisco, New York, about an hour north of the city. I distinctly remember my dad’s posted list of items to take down to the cellar if NYC were bombed. My mom’s canned and jarred foods were already stored there. Years later, after living in NYC and moving to Colorado Springs, I felt relief at having escaped a prime nuclear target only to learn about the North American Aerospace Defense Command inside Cheyenne Mountain. Oops.
We saw the movie “Oppenheimer" on a recent trip to the east in an old theater on Cape Cod. The choice of theaters was a mistake. I’m going to have to see it again with subtitles in an IMAX theater. The film’s director, Christopher Nolan, is known for an intentional technique that makes dialogue inaudible. His groundbreaking method is a really bad idea and is, perhaps, better suited to the silent film era. I think I enjoyed the film, but I’m not sure. I’ll have to let you know after my second viewing. Until then, I would have to recommend Stanley Kubrick’s ”Dr. Strangelove.“ It never fails to please.
Our trip then took us to a reunion at the family cabin in the Catskill Mountains. Our next-door neighbor, Ray, is one of the last surviving eel men. He made his living catching and smoking eels for sale in his shop Delaware Delicacies on the east branch of the Delaware river. You may have seen him on “National Geographic,” one of Anthony Bourdain’s shows or “Dirty Jobs.”
Native Americans in the area were harvesting eels with the use of an eel weir hundreds of years before Ray. Each year, he has to rebuild his eel weir, no small task, which consists of a stone wall structure in a V-like form across the width of the river. The weir funnels the eels into a wooden stair-like structure that traps them for harvesting.
Smoked eel has a unique slightly oily taste and is indeed a delicacy for many. Ray’s companion for the past 20 years is a 6-foot emu. He rescued the emu from the highway with the help of two local New York state troopers. They never did determine how it got there. There may be a film coming out about Ray’s relationship with his emu. Think: “My Octopus Teacher.” I’ll let you know.
You can be sure that Christopher Nolan will not be the director as we will need to hear the conversation between Ray and the emu. Emus make a very distinctive low thumping sound, which is a language like no other. Having atomic blasts as background noise would not bode well for us to hear the dialogue.
See a film with good sound or subtitles. Give smoked eel a try. Thanks for reading.
Jim Cross is a retired Fort Lewis College professor and basketball coach.
