Two years ago, I wrote how the Washington state legislature considered, and passed, extending the time by which a victim of child sex abuse can report abuse. At that time, it was extended to either age 21 or age 28, depending on the circumstances.
Now Washington contemplates eliminating that statute of limitations altogether, as it is in 29 other states. The proposed bill passed the Washington State House unanimously. One state senator from the West side, however - Senator Jim Hargrove - refuses to give the bill a needed hearing by this Friday in order to let the bill be considered by the full Senate. If it isn't heard by then, the bill dies for another year.
Here is a great piece by local KXLY on the difficulties - by the way, the argument that it shouldn't be extended because victims will then not come forward is bogus - no victims' advocacy group is saying that, to my knowledge - and it does not reflect the truth of what happens - as one advocate put it, the only ones who don't want this bill passed (besides those playing politics in Olympia) are the pedophiles themselves. Oh, and the article that the cases will be harder to prove is also bogus - prosecutors always have the option to decline prosecution if evidence cannot be gathered. But in the case of, for instance, Patrick O'Donnell - a priest here in the 1970s who abused so many, including Tim Corrigan (his widow Cheryl is holding his photo in the news story) - he never faced criminal prosecution in spite of all the evidence because the statute of limitations already had run.
If you do want to express an opinion, email Jim Hargrove at hargrove.jim@leg.wa.gov or Lisa Brown (Senate Majority Leader from Spokane) at brown.lisa@leg.wa.gov.
Here's the story:
(I'm in the shot, actually - standing to the left of the reporter at one point, in black, getting my hair blown all over the place. )
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
The Deafening Silence...
Sorry. No postings. The script writing finally is going well, though - as long as I reduce distractions...
I did want to mention that Friday is the 100th anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory - the 1911 textile factory fire in New York City that killed 146 women immigrant workers, mostly Jewish and Italian. Here is a very touching article about people remembering those who died by marking their names in chalk in front of the apartments where they lived.
The happening of this anniversary is eerily timely right now, as Wisconsin unions - and unions across the country - fight to keep at least the basic boundaries formed to protect workers' rights over the past 100 years. The Triangle Fire was one of the catalysts at the turn of the 20th century (another being the publication of The Jungle, by Upton Sinclair) that moved people to action to protect the rights of workers in this country - and to form unions that helped the least workers among us. In the Fire, the factory heads were saved, but not the women workers - mostly the ones who were working on the ninth floor, where the fire engine ladders didn't reach, and sprinklers didn't work, and exit doors were locked, and phone calls couldn't be made to warn them (because the phone on another floor was off the hook, preventing inter-floor phone calls). Under those conditions, with material strewn around workstations like ready-made kindling, the fire ripped through the overcrowded floor at lightning speed. Workers either burned, or jumped to their deaths.
Here is an interesting quote at the end of the article about the sidewalk markings:
I did want to mention that Friday is the 100th anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory - the 1911 textile factory fire in New York City that killed 146 women immigrant workers, mostly Jewish and Italian. Here is a very touching article about people remembering those who died by marking their names in chalk in front of the apartments where they lived.
The happening of this anniversary is eerily timely right now, as Wisconsin unions - and unions across the country - fight to keep at least the basic boundaries formed to protect workers' rights over the past 100 years. The Triangle Fire was one of the catalysts at the turn of the 20th century (another being the publication of The Jungle, by Upton Sinclair) that moved people to action to protect the rights of workers in this country - and to form unions that helped the least workers among us. In the Fire, the factory heads were saved, but not the women workers - mostly the ones who were working on the ninth floor, where the fire engine ladders didn't reach, and sprinklers didn't work, and exit doors were locked, and phone calls couldn't be made to warn them (because the phone on another floor was off the hook, preventing inter-floor phone calls). Under those conditions, with material strewn around workstations like ready-made kindling, the fire ripped through the overcrowded floor at lightning speed. Workers either burned, or jumped to their deaths.
Here is an interesting quote at the end of the article about the sidewalk markings:
One of [the chalk writing organizer's] favorite quotations comes from Gabriel García Márquez: “Life is not what one lived, but what one remembers and how one remembers it in order to recount it.” Certainly, she said, the Triangle fire was colossally sad. But the huge protests and push for change that followed it were, she said, “invigorating.”
“In the wake of tragedies like Triangle or 9/11, my sense is there are actually quite wonderful things that come out and radiate from that,” she said. “There’s an immediate dropping of day-to-day falseness. You become much more compassionate and humane toward each other in those moments.
“It’s incumbent upon us if we’re going to commemorate the fire,” she added, “to commemorate the spirit of action that grew out of the fire.”
There will be bell ringings at 4:45 p.m. EST around the country, to mark the moment that the first alarm sounded 100 years ago. Here is a website for more information.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Justice
I'm writing a script, so I've not been blogging. And now I feel guilty about that. So here's a post. I'm choosing "Justice" as the topic. Why yes, such a lighthearted concept, don't you think?
I think we all have basic values, and then we have one or two values that define us individually. For me, one of my defining values is Justice. Although I never dreamed about becoming a lawyer, it was a great choice once I thought of it, because having balance has always motivated me to action.
When I cry at plays, or movies, justice - or the imbalance of it - is usually a motivating reason. I cried at "Camelot" when King Arthur gave a speech at the end of how he wanted to create courts in order to establish a civilized society. Yes, I cried at his words - at the concept, though in a good way. For as imperfect as our court system is, it is where we go to settle disputes - not the streets, I hope, but to the courts. Or to the courts after the streets, if we weren't able to wait. To hear his speech - from the point of view of the origin - moved me.
I sobbed at "Man of La Mancha" (the older couple sitting next to me didn't want me to drive myself home, I was so emotional) - and at the injustices there - I didn't expect it, you see - I had never seen the musical, though I knew some of the songs - and remember, as a child, listening to my father sing about dreaming the impossible dream (as my mother accompanied him on the piano). But it's a dark play, and it took me down.
And then I could hardly keep myself together at "Of Mice and Men" - had to duck out the theater after it was over, so that nobody had to see how distraught I was. I had always been so angry with George for not getting it together better to keep Lennie out of harm's way, until a friend of mine scolded me for having such high expectations of the poor guy, who himself was hardly able to survive. And so, when I watched the play with her thoughts in mind, and I realized George was a victim too - my gosh, I couldn't stand it.
(As a youth, in a philosophy class, I wrote a paper once about Oedipus, blaming him for fulfilling his destiny of killing his father and marrying his mother. If he didn't want to do that, then shouldn't he have stopped killing men his father's age? and really - shouldn't he have thought twice before marrying a women who could have been his mother? After reading the paper, my professor said, "Aren't you being a little hard on Oedipus?" Maybe. Maybe I was a little hard on him...)
When I was on the board of our local Meals on Wheels, I went out once to serve the meals - only once, though. I was great at keeping my distance in the board room - looking at things analytically - knowing we were doing our small part to help out Spokane's poorest-of-the-poor seniors. But when I went door-to-door, all I wanted to do was fix everything - clean every apartment - take everyone to their medical appointments so they didn't have to struggle with the bus and their walkers... So I stayed in the board room after that - where I actually could be productive, and not just spinning my wheels (so to speak).
The thing is, for as much as I want justice for all, I can't really personally provide it for every single person. And even more than that - the world doesn't intend for one human being to achieve that. In fact, if you look beyond our justice "system" - the court system that is imperfect, and rarely effects justice because money does not heal all wounds - and look to karma instead - spiritual justice - where (the theory goes) the universe constantly seeks balance, and seeks to correct imbalance - then part of the equation is that individual people need to stand up for themselves sometimes, on their own, without additional help, so that the next time some injustice comes barreling on down upon them, they have some tools to use in the battle.
That doesn't mean I can't help sometimes - or at least cry, at the sight of unfairness - that must create some balancing too, don't you think? If we can see the injustice, recognize it, and mourn its existence...
I do think that's why the tearing down of teacher unions has been met with such public negativity. It's one thing to get the unions in balance. It's quite another to just destroy them. Where's the justice in that?
Okay. Well, I hope this makes sense. I typed fast - knew I couldn't let another week go by without a blog entry! And happy Justice Day to you. (Is there such a thing?)
I think we all have basic values, and then we have one or two values that define us individually. For me, one of my defining values is Justice. Although I never dreamed about becoming a lawyer, it was a great choice once I thought of it, because having balance has always motivated me to action.
When I cry at plays, or movies, justice - or the imbalance of it - is usually a motivating reason. I cried at "Camelot" when King Arthur gave a speech at the end of how he wanted to create courts in order to establish a civilized society. Yes, I cried at his words - at the concept, though in a good way. For as imperfect as our court system is, it is where we go to settle disputes - not the streets, I hope, but to the courts. Or to the courts after the streets, if we weren't able to wait. To hear his speech - from the point of view of the origin - moved me.
I sobbed at "Man of La Mancha" (the older couple sitting next to me didn't want me to drive myself home, I was so emotional) - and at the injustices there - I didn't expect it, you see - I had never seen the musical, though I knew some of the songs - and remember, as a child, listening to my father sing about dreaming the impossible dream (as my mother accompanied him on the piano). But it's a dark play, and it took me down.
And then I could hardly keep myself together at "Of Mice and Men" - had to duck out the theater after it was over, so that nobody had to see how distraught I was. I had always been so angry with George for not getting it together better to keep Lennie out of harm's way, until a friend of mine scolded me for having such high expectations of the poor guy, who himself was hardly able to survive. And so, when I watched the play with her thoughts in mind, and I realized George was a victim too - my gosh, I couldn't stand it.
(As a youth, in a philosophy class, I wrote a paper once about Oedipus, blaming him for fulfilling his destiny of killing his father and marrying his mother. If he didn't want to do that, then shouldn't he have stopped killing men his father's age? and really - shouldn't he have thought twice before marrying a women who could have been his mother? After reading the paper, my professor said, "Aren't you being a little hard on Oedipus?" Maybe. Maybe I was a little hard on him...)
When I was on the board of our local Meals on Wheels, I went out once to serve the meals - only once, though. I was great at keeping my distance in the board room - looking at things analytically - knowing we were doing our small part to help out Spokane's poorest-of-the-poor seniors. But when I went door-to-door, all I wanted to do was fix everything - clean every apartment - take everyone to their medical appointments so they didn't have to struggle with the bus and their walkers... So I stayed in the board room after that - where I actually could be productive, and not just spinning my wheels (so to speak).
The thing is, for as much as I want justice for all, I can't really personally provide it for every single person. And even more than that - the world doesn't intend for one human being to achieve that. In fact, if you look beyond our justice "system" - the court system that is imperfect, and rarely effects justice because money does not heal all wounds - and look to karma instead - spiritual justice - where (the theory goes) the universe constantly seeks balance, and seeks to correct imbalance - then part of the equation is that individual people need to stand up for themselves sometimes, on their own, without additional help, so that the next time some injustice comes barreling on down upon them, they have some tools to use in the battle.
That doesn't mean I can't help sometimes - or at least cry, at the sight of unfairness - that must create some balancing too, don't you think? If we can see the injustice, recognize it, and mourn its existence...
I do think that's why the tearing down of teacher unions has been met with such public negativity. It's one thing to get the unions in balance. It's quite another to just destroy them. Where's the justice in that?
Okay. Well, I hope this makes sense. I typed fast - knew I couldn't let another week go by without a blog entry! And happy Justice Day to you. (Is there such a thing?)
Sunday, March 6, 2011
"Fish Don't Clap"
Yesterday I spent the day at a genealogical conference, oddly advertised as a "Day With Bing." You see, Spokane is proud of having been the childhood stomping grounds for Bing Crosby. The Secretary of State's office - which has a genealogical division - who knew? - figured they would attract people interested in family history by holding a day-long conference exploring one of the better known families in the Inland Northwest. The Crosby family, that is.
It was just a wonderful day, filled with lots of immigration information about Bing Crosby's roots, and how his family played a huge role in the settling of the Pacific Northwest. The whole day started before the program began, however, with a burst of nostalgia. Someone had set up a small screen with youtube clips of Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, and Dean Martin that played while we waited for the conference to begin. It was just wonderful! And so funny. Here they were - the cool guys - bursting into song during a movie, or completely relaxed while singing as a trio. That's back when you could be cool and a little corny at the same time. Here are some of the videos we watched - first, one of Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby singing in the "High Society" film:
And then this clip, from the Dean Martin Show - I presume it was his show - singing the Nathan Detroit song (a part Sinatra played in "Guys and Dolls"):
So much fun!
The title of this piece comes from Bing Crosby's nephew, who was also one of our speakers. In his reminiscing about "Uncle Bing," he told a story that his uncle had told him, about how they tried to get Bob Hope to take a vacation - a two-week deep sea fishing expedition - but they had to come back to shore after just a day to drop him off. When the reporters asked Mr. Hope what had happened - did he get seasick? - he answered that he had not realized one thing before going on the trip: "Fish don't clap." So he'd come back home. Ha!
I did get a chance to show all the Crosby presenters the photo in my baseball novel ("Until the End of the Ninth," about the Spokane Indians' minor league team and a bus crash midway through the season that killed nine of the players) of Bing Crosby donating $2,500 at the memorial fundraiser game that they held just days after the bus crash, to raise money for the families of the bus crash victims. He and Bob Hope had just been up here golfing a month or so before the crash. The presenters were excited to see a photo that they had never seen before - and gathered information on how to get a copy of the original through a local family.
One of the tasks yesterday was to spend some time doing your own family research on ancestry.com. I decided to focus on my dad's side of the family, where I have some records and photos of a great-great grandfather who served in the Civil War. The volunteer who assisted me (they had a volunteer for every participant, it seemed) was especially thrilled that we kept running into family photos online. Apparently this was quite unusual. I had no idea. I told her that, through my mother's side, we go back to the American Revolution. She was in awe. She made me feel like I had accomplished something, just by sitting there and existing.
What I did notice about my dad's side though, was how they all came over from this fairly small area in Switzerland - the province of Schaffhausen, and then these little towns sprinkled around the province - towns like Schleitheim (current population 1,663) and Löhningen (pop. 1,213) and Guntmadingen (pop. 248). And then somehow they all found their way to Buffalo County in Wisconsin - to towns like Mondovi (current pop. 2,634) and Eleva (pop. 635) - and got married. All to each other, too - all these Swiss marrying other Swiss. It must have been quite the detour for my grandfather to marry my Norwegian grandmother. He was 28, she was 17 - and he was smitten from the start, is what the story always was.
It did baffle me a little yesterday - you move from a little town in a cold place to another little town in another cold place? Huh. It seems to be a lot of work, and distance, just to recreate what you had back home. It did get me here though, so I'm not complaining. And maybe that's partly why I like small towns - it's in the blood.
I was proud to read how civic-minded they were. I already knew that my grandfather was the local hospital administrator, and was on the Buffalo County commission, for years. Yesterday I learned that his maternal grandfather - the one who served in the Civil War (and is rumored to run an oral message between General Meade and President Lincoln on whether Lincoln should stay in D.C. or not) - ended up a Justice of the Peace, helped organize a school district as well as creamery co-ops there in Dairyland, and was quite active in the Lutheran church - as they all were, I'm sure. And I didn't read about any arrests - well, they were Swiss, after all. Anyway, a fun day overall. Worth the trip!
It was just a wonderful day, filled with lots of immigration information about Bing Crosby's roots, and how his family played a huge role in the settling of the Pacific Northwest. The whole day started before the program began, however, with a burst of nostalgia. Someone had set up a small screen with youtube clips of Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, and Dean Martin that played while we waited for the conference to begin. It was just wonderful! And so funny. Here they were - the cool guys - bursting into song during a movie, or completely relaxed while singing as a trio. That's back when you could be cool and a little corny at the same time. Here are some of the videos we watched - first, one of Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby singing in the "High Society" film:
And then this clip, from the Dean Martin Show - I presume it was his show - singing the Nathan Detroit song (a part Sinatra played in "Guys and Dolls"):
So much fun!
The title of this piece comes from Bing Crosby's nephew, who was also one of our speakers. In his reminiscing about "Uncle Bing," he told a story that his uncle had told him, about how they tried to get Bob Hope to take a vacation - a two-week deep sea fishing expedition - but they had to come back to shore after just a day to drop him off. When the reporters asked Mr. Hope what had happened - did he get seasick? - he answered that he had not realized one thing before going on the trip: "Fish don't clap." So he'd come back home. Ha!
I did get a chance to show all the Crosby presenters the photo in my baseball novel ("Until the End of the Ninth," about the Spokane Indians' minor league team and a bus crash midway through the season that killed nine of the players) of Bing Crosby donating $2,500 at the memorial fundraiser game that they held just days after the bus crash, to raise money for the families of the bus crash victims. He and Bob Hope had just been up here golfing a month or so before the crash. The presenters were excited to see a photo that they had never seen before - and gathered information on how to get a copy of the original through a local family.
One of the tasks yesterday was to spend some time doing your own family research on ancestry.com. I decided to focus on my dad's side of the family, where I have some records and photos of a great-great grandfather who served in the Civil War. The volunteer who assisted me (they had a volunteer for every participant, it seemed) was especially thrilled that we kept running into family photos online. Apparently this was quite unusual. I had no idea. I told her that, through my mother's side, we go back to the American Revolution. She was in awe. She made me feel like I had accomplished something, just by sitting there and existing.
What I did notice about my dad's side though, was how they all came over from this fairly small area in Switzerland - the province of Schaffhausen, and then these little towns sprinkled around the province - towns like Schleitheim (current population 1,663) and Löhningen (pop. 1,213) and Guntmadingen (pop. 248). And then somehow they all found their way to Buffalo County in Wisconsin - to towns like Mondovi (current pop. 2,634) and Eleva (pop. 635) - and got married. All to each other, too - all these Swiss marrying other Swiss. It must have been quite the detour for my grandfather to marry my Norwegian grandmother. He was 28, she was 17 - and he was smitten from the start, is what the story always was.
It did baffle me a little yesterday - you move from a little town in a cold place to another little town in another cold place? Huh. It seems to be a lot of work, and distance, just to recreate what you had back home. It did get me here though, so I'm not complaining. And maybe that's partly why I like small towns - it's in the blood.
I was proud to read how civic-minded they were. I already knew that my grandfather was the local hospital administrator, and was on the Buffalo County commission, for years. Yesterday I learned that his maternal grandfather - the one who served in the Civil War (and is rumored to run an oral message between General Meade and President Lincoln on whether Lincoln should stay in D.C. or not) - ended up a Justice of the Peace, helped organize a school district as well as creamery co-ops there in Dairyland, and was quite active in the Lutheran church - as they all were, I'm sure. And I didn't read about any arrests - well, they were Swiss, after all. Anyway, a fun day overall. Worth the trip!
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
The Absence Of Posts... with updates
Well, hi there. I haven't posted in a while... there's a good reason, actually. I'm writing again, and when I write on this blog (usually in the a.m.), it sort of takes away from the creative juices for my current screenplay effort - a "rom com," or so I'm told (i.e., romantic comedy).
If I tweeted (or is that "twitted"), things would be posted - since that takes a lot shorter time to compose than a blog entry. Indeed, I continue a little Facebooking, even in the midst of creating and editing.
So, in semi-tweet-like form (did I just hear a bird?), I can tell you that:
*It's been snowing in Spokane. Winds reached 58 mph yesterday at our airport.
*I had a plan to drive to Seattle over the weekend, as I wanted to do research about my new script, and one of the main scene locations is Pike Place Market - so I was going to go on a ghost tour and such - but was worried that the snow would impede my ability to get through Snoqualmie Pass and back, so I postponed for a later date TBD.
*I have decided to go all-out in my effort to buy American - under the theory that, since our tax structure encourages companies to take jobs overseas, then our buying patterns here should encourage them to keep the jobs here instead. My foray into this effort was only partially successful on Saturday, as only one of my three purchased vegetables - the onion - was home-grown, so to speak. The other two - the tomato and the mushroom(s) - were from Canada and Mexico. Sigh. But I did hear from Bounty Towels (which I like - they have cute patterns!) - in response to my email - that they do manufacture their towels here in America, so it looks like I'm able to keep purchasing Bounty. Here's what they said:
This sounds great. But I'm such a lawyer - so I thought, hmm - does this mean that all Bounty towels are made in these locations? And if not, what percentage of towels are manufactured overseas and then brought here for sale? Inquiring minds want to know. So I've emailed that follow-up question - will let you all know what I find out.
UPDATE: Bounty has not responded to my more pointed question. I emailed again this (Thursday) a.m., saying that if I don't hear back, I'll presume it means that the majority of American-sold Bounty towels are not American-made. (I did notice where Procter and Gamble, which manufactures Bounty, has manufacturing plants around the world, so I think it's a pretty fair question for me to ask). (Update - Thursday afternoon - they've responded! and yes, Bounty towels all are made in these United States - Whitney S. from The Bounty Team emailed me the following: "Hi Beth, Thanks for contacting Bounty. We really appreciate your interest in our bounty paper towel. I am happy to inform you that all Bounty paper towels are manufactured in the United States.")
If Bounty ends up not to be an option (update: it is! see the few sentences immediately above), I do know that Seventh Generation is manufactured in the U.S.A. In fact, I actually contemplated SG as my first option, as they not only are a U.S. company (privately owned), but they also are a responsible one, using only recycled products. I have purchased their paper products before...
ADDITIONAL UPDATE: Just got off the telephone with Seventh Generation - such nice people! - and they were able to inform me that their paper towels (and toilet paper) are manufactured both in the United States and Canada - and that the stretch to the one plant in Canada had to do with a limited pool of manufacturing plants in the United States for recycled products - and was not an effort to flee the country - which makes sense to me (e.g., their manufacturing choices are not actually costing Americans jobs0 - and they have the additional attraction of producing recycled products - so hats off to Seventh Generation! I'm officially switching to them for those paper products.
By the way - the Seventh Generation concept originates with Native Americans - that all we do is done in honor of the seven generations that have come before us and in anticipation of the seven generations to come in the future - which makes that a very cool name...
So this is all excellent news. It means that we now have at least two great choices for paper towels.
*Oh, and I've been enjoying all the Wisconsin stuff. One wonders (as the Morning Joe crew observed last week) why the Wisconsin governor just doesn't declare victory and settle it all. He has, after all, won all the financial concessions he was seeking from the unions. Here was a nice video from over the weekend about the protests and sit-in. I sent it along to both my nieces as I thought they would enjoy the efforts that students in their age group were making in Madison.
So there's a quick recap of My Week That Was. Thanks for checking in!
If I tweeted (or is that "twitted"), things would be posted - since that takes a lot shorter time to compose than a blog entry. Indeed, I continue a little Facebooking, even in the midst of creating and editing.
So, in semi-tweet-like form (did I just hear a bird?), I can tell you that:
*It's been snowing in Spokane. Winds reached 58 mph yesterday at our airport.
*I had a plan to drive to Seattle over the weekend, as I wanted to do research about my new script, and one of the main scene locations is Pike Place Market - so I was going to go on a ghost tour and such - but was worried that the snow would impede my ability to get through Snoqualmie Pass and back, so I postponed for a later date TBD.
*I have decided to go all-out in my effort to buy American - under the theory that, since our tax structure encourages companies to take jobs overseas, then our buying patterns here should encourage them to keep the jobs here instead. My foray into this effort was only partially successful on Saturday, as only one of my three purchased vegetables - the onion - was home-grown, so to speak. The other two - the tomato and the mushroom(s) - were from Canada and Mexico. Sigh. But I did hear from Bounty Towels (which I like - they have cute patterns!) - in response to my email - that they do manufacture their towels here in America, so it looks like I'm able to keep purchasing Bounty. Here's what they said:
Dear Beth,
Thanks for contacting Bounty. I'm happy you are interested in knowing where our Bounty products are made. Bounty paper towels (including Bounty Basic & Bounty Napkins) are made in Mehoopany, PA – Albany, GA – Green Bay, WI – Cape Girardeau, MO – and Oxnard, CA. Hope this helped! Thanks again for writing.
Jerron J., Bounty Team
This sounds great. But I'm such a lawyer - so I thought, hmm - does this mean that all Bounty towels are made in these locations? And if not, what percentage of towels are manufactured overseas and then brought here for sale? Inquiring minds want to know. So I've emailed that follow-up question - will let you all know what I find out.
UPDATE: Bounty has not responded to my more pointed question. I emailed again this (Thursday) a.m., saying that if I don't hear back, I'll presume it means that the majority of American-sold Bounty towels are not American-made. (I did notice where Procter and Gamble, which manufactures Bounty, has manufacturing plants around the world, so I think it's a pretty fair question for me to ask). (Update - Thursday afternoon - they've responded! and yes, Bounty towels all are made in these United States - Whitney S. from The Bounty Team emailed me the following: "Hi Beth, Thanks for contacting Bounty. We really appreciate your interest in our bounty paper towel. I am happy to inform you that all Bounty paper towels are manufactured in the United States.")
If Bounty ends up not to be an option (update: it is! see the few sentences immediately above), I do know that Seventh Generation is manufactured in the U.S.A. In fact, I actually contemplated SG as my first option, as they not only are a U.S. company (privately owned), but they also are a responsible one, using only recycled products. I have purchased their paper products before...
ADDITIONAL UPDATE: Just got off the telephone with Seventh Generation - such nice people! - and they were able to inform me that their paper towels (and toilet paper) are manufactured both in the United States and Canada - and that the stretch to the one plant in Canada had to do with a limited pool of manufacturing plants in the United States for recycled products - and was not an effort to flee the country - which makes sense to me (e.g., their manufacturing choices are not actually costing Americans jobs0 - and they have the additional attraction of producing recycled products - so hats off to Seventh Generation! I'm officially switching to them for those paper products.
By the way - the Seventh Generation concept originates with Native Americans - that all we do is done in honor of the seven generations that have come before us and in anticipation of the seven generations to come in the future - which makes that a very cool name...
So this is all excellent news. It means that we now have at least two great choices for paper towels.
*Oh, and I've been enjoying all the Wisconsin stuff. One wonders (as the Morning Joe crew observed last week) why the Wisconsin governor just doesn't declare victory and settle it all. He has, after all, won all the financial concessions he was seeking from the unions. Here was a nice video from over the weekend about the protests and sit-in. I sent it along to both my nieces as I thought they would enjoy the efforts that students in their age group were making in Madison.
So there's a quick recap of My Week That Was. Thanks for checking in!
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Can You Say "Rickets"? - with updates
Rickets. I am wondering how many know the definition of that word. You can be forgiven if you don't know it. After all, it's a disease that has been nearly eliminated in the United States because of government and educational programs, and better nutrition.
But get ready to learn what it means now - that is, if Republicans get their way.
Rickets is the softening of bones due to a lack of vitamin D and calcium. It is mainly a childhood illness, as it is in childhood that our bones are formed. It is the primary disease of children in developing countries. Here, read this article on it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rickets
We've come a long way since rickets was a likely condition of young children in this country whose families couldn't afford proper milk, cheese, etc. for them. In recent years, our progress on eliminating rickets actually has gotten a banner acronym associated with it. That acronym is WIC. It stands for Women, Infants and Children. This is a federal program. In 1974, the year it was established, it served 88,000 people. In 2009 alone, it reached 9.3 million people. Here's the website on it.
WIC ensures that families whose income falls at or below 185 percent of U.S. poverty levels can supplement diets with coupons that buy formula (for babies), milk, cheese, eggs and the like. Pregnant women participate, so that there is sufficient nutrition in the womb for fetus bone development.
The Republicans propose to cut the WIC program by ten percent.
Seriously?
Yes indeed, this is the party that advocates no abortions at any time - yet they'd like to get rid of the program that stands between our children and bone disease. So much for protecting the life of children. (The Repubs also have proposed about a 15% cut to Head Start, which already is underfunded - so, they'd like to cut into the two federal programs most highly lauded as having direct positive and traceable impact on the youngest, and least, among us.)
There are more than enough places we can cut federal monies. Just don't take milk from the mouths of babes.
For astounding of a headline that this makes, there is virtually no news coverage on this very symbolic and miserly cut proposal. The best I could find was this article out of Florida. Comments show people's concerns (other than the ones that call the program "socialism"). Most commenters get the point - these are resources for our children, who make no decisions on how family funds are spent. We are setting up our children for bone disease if we cut WIC in a way that affects their access to formula, milk, cheese, etc.
Sure there are ways to cut government spending. Put me in the "for" column on that. But make these cuts wisely. Don't - literally - cut our children off at the knees in order to make your point.
UPDATE: Okay, I did find this article out of The Economist - which cites to this column by Paul Krugman (great column) - both of which bring up the WIC cuts. The Economist's article also talks about how the House Dems "failed to restore $131 million for the Securities and Exchange Commission, facing new responsibilities under Wall Street reforms enacted in the last Congress." Yes indeed - the SEC, which was too overworked to watch over Bernie Madoff, will continue to be anemic. Great. Oh, and I saw that, when asked whether the Repubs' proposed cuts would result in the loss of federal employee jobs, Rep. Boehner answered, "So be it." This brings a whole new meaning to the phrase, "compassionate Conservative." I guess it really means to say that we should be conservative with our compassion? Is that it?
UPDATE: One of my sisters just forwarded this link to a column by David Brooks on how politicians are cutting off children at their knees because that is the easiest target these days. He doesn't really discuss WIC - which is a program that just works, and doesn't have a lot of layers to tweak - but does discuss Head Start, and ways to improve programs if cuts do need to occur. It's worth the read: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/03/01/larry-crowne-tom-hanks-julia-roberts_n_829540.html
But get ready to learn what it means now - that is, if Republicans get their way.
Rickets is the softening of bones due to a lack of vitamin D and calcium. It is mainly a childhood illness, as it is in childhood that our bones are formed. It is the primary disease of children in developing countries. Here, read this article on it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rickets
We've come a long way since rickets was a likely condition of young children in this country whose families couldn't afford proper milk, cheese, etc. for them. In recent years, our progress on eliminating rickets actually has gotten a banner acronym associated with it. That acronym is WIC. It stands for Women, Infants and Children. This is a federal program. In 1974, the year it was established, it served 88,000 people. In 2009 alone, it reached 9.3 million people. Here's the website on it.
WIC ensures that families whose income falls at or below 185 percent of U.S. poverty levels can supplement diets with coupons that buy formula (for babies), milk, cheese, eggs and the like. Pregnant women participate, so that there is sufficient nutrition in the womb for fetus bone development.
The Republicans propose to cut the WIC program by ten percent.
Seriously?
Yes indeed, this is the party that advocates no abortions at any time - yet they'd like to get rid of the program that stands between our children and bone disease. So much for protecting the life of children. (The Repubs also have proposed about a 15% cut to Head Start, which already is underfunded - so, they'd like to cut into the two federal programs most highly lauded as having direct positive and traceable impact on the youngest, and least, among us.)
There are more than enough places we can cut federal monies. Just don't take milk from the mouths of babes.
For astounding of a headline that this makes, there is virtually no news coverage on this very symbolic and miserly cut proposal. The best I could find was this article out of Florida. Comments show people's concerns (other than the ones that call the program "socialism"). Most commenters get the point - these are resources for our children, who make no decisions on how family funds are spent. We are setting up our children for bone disease if we cut WIC in a way that affects their access to formula, milk, cheese, etc.
Sure there are ways to cut government spending. Put me in the "for" column on that. But make these cuts wisely. Don't - literally - cut our children off at the knees in order to make your point.
UPDATE: Okay, I did find this article out of The Economist - which cites to this column by Paul Krugman (great column) - both of which bring up the WIC cuts. The Economist's article also talks about how the House Dems "failed to restore $131 million for the Securities and Exchange Commission, facing new responsibilities under Wall Street reforms enacted in the last Congress." Yes indeed - the SEC, which was too overworked to watch over Bernie Madoff, will continue to be anemic. Great. Oh, and I saw that, when asked whether the Repubs' proposed cuts would result in the loss of federal employee jobs, Rep. Boehner answered, "So be it." This brings a whole new meaning to the phrase, "compassionate Conservative." I guess it really means to say that we should be conservative with our compassion? Is that it?
UPDATE: One of my sisters just forwarded this link to a column by David Brooks on how politicians are cutting off children at their knees because that is the easiest target these days. He doesn't really discuss WIC - which is a program that just works, and doesn't have a lot of layers to tweak - but does discuss Head Start, and ways to improve programs if cuts do need to occur. It's worth the read: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/03/01/larry-crowne-tom-hanks-julia-roberts_n_829540.html
Friday, February 11, 2011
Journalism Ethics Movie Marathon
KNIFVES board member Karla Petermann will be moderating a month-long Film Appreciation and Discussion Series at the Sandpoint library from 1-4 p.m. for the next four Saturdays, starting tomorrow. The theme for this year's series is "ethics in journalism." The films slated for viewing and then discussion are Ace in the Hole tomorrow; Sweet Smell of Success on February 19; Network on February 26, and Good Night and Good Luck on March 12 (hmmm... apparently they're skipping a week). I urge you to attend. Apparently the discussion part can get quite lively.
I've only seen the last two movies, with Good Night and Good Luck being one of my favorite movies ever. It fits in the genre of telling a true story with integrity (a topic I discussed a couple days ago, when writing about The King's Speech). It's such an important slice of history, that movie - and what Edward R. Murrow did to shift the tide back then, away from Senator Joe McCarthy's fear-feeding, communist witch hunting. Murrow dug to the truth, and showed it to the country - and we woke up. My mother, who teaches history at El Paso Community College, tells of how some of her students saw that movie and then wanted to know who played Joseph McCarthy in it. (chuckle - McCarthy played himself, through old footage!) Love that movie.
I remember Murrow's documentary Harvests of Shame too, about migrant workers - it stunned me, as a kid. I even wrote a paper in high school, designing an elementary and secondary school education for migrant workers' children who could never stay long in one class because of all the moving they did (and all the work). The paper was a child's effort, I know - solving nothing. But that does show that Murrow had lasting impact, at least on me.
There's an Edward R. Murrow Award at Washington State University that is handed out every year. The year that it went posthumously to Danny Pearl, I went. I also went when Tom Brokaw was the award recipient. It's a great event, in honor of a remarkable man (who went to WSU back when it was WSC) who really did help America remember balance.
I've only seen the last two movies, with Good Night and Good Luck being one of my favorite movies ever. It fits in the genre of telling a true story with integrity (a topic I discussed a couple days ago, when writing about The King's Speech). It's such an important slice of history, that movie - and what Edward R. Murrow did to shift the tide back then, away from Senator Joe McCarthy's fear-feeding, communist witch hunting. Murrow dug to the truth, and showed it to the country - and we woke up. My mother, who teaches history at El Paso Community College, tells of how some of her students saw that movie and then wanted to know who played Joseph McCarthy in it. (chuckle - McCarthy played himself, through old footage!) Love that movie.
I remember Murrow's documentary Harvests of Shame too, about migrant workers - it stunned me, as a kid. I even wrote a paper in high school, designing an elementary and secondary school education for migrant workers' children who could never stay long in one class because of all the moving they did (and all the work). The paper was a child's effort, I know - solving nothing. But that does show that Murrow had lasting impact, at least on me.
There's an Edward R. Murrow Award at Washington State University that is handed out every year. The year that it went posthumously to Danny Pearl, I went. I also went when Tom Brokaw was the award recipient. It's a great event, in honor of a remarkable man (who went to WSU back when it was WSC) who really did help America remember balance.
WashYourHandsington
And here I thought I lived in a state called Washington:
Apparently, we - collectively, as a state - think it's great that people are laughing at us over this ad campaign because - um - they'll remember the message better that way?
http://www.spokesman.com/blogs/hbo/2011/feb/08/washyourhandsington/
Cindy's right (second comment down on the above link): "It's just embarrassing."
But funny. Funny too!
Apparently, we - collectively, as a state - think it's great that people are laughing at us over this ad campaign because - um - they'll remember the message better that way?
http://www.spokesman.com/blogs/hbo/2011/feb/08/washyourhandsington/
Cindy's right (second comment down on the above link): "It's just embarrassing."
But funny. Funny too!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
"The King's Speech"
I went a week ago to see "The King's Speech," an interesting and lovely movie. It is deserving of its recent awards. Colin Firth's acting is excellent, if just for the stutter alone. It was an interesting slice of history, worth the telling.
In fact, that was a big reason why I wanted to see it - the history part of it. I had read an article by someone who was disappointed that the movie "made up" facts (was the claim of the article's author) - both saying that the stutter was not as pronounced as the movie intimates, and that Winston Churchill was not really supportive of a change of crown from older brother to younger. I've written about a slice of history in my baseball novel ("Until the End of the Ninth," based on the true story of the 1946 Spokane Indians' minor league team and the bus crash that killed nine of the team's players). I want this story to be made into a movie. And I want the film maker to have a sense of what it means to tell a story, fictionalized, while still honoring the truth of the story being told. So I wanted to see how "The King's Speech" was made. I readied myself for disappointment.
As it turned out, however, I was pleasantly surprised. Any artistic license that they took with the facts described above seemed reasonable to me, as I watched the movie. The stuttering seemed like a lifetime - but was only seconds. This must be how it feels to speak publicly - to an entire nation, as a leader - when, the whole time, you fear that you will stutter. As for Churchill - whether he supported the older brother in public to keep the crown doesn't mean he always supported him in private. I expect that Churchill was, at a minimum, of two minds, so having the movie portray him as being of one opinion over the other didn't bother me. In the end, I was pretty happy that I could enjoy the movie for both its storytelling and for its honorable efforts to tell a story based on a true event.
In fact, it is a special art to tell a true story through the vehicle of fictionalized drama. Few even try to do it, and only a handful of those people succeed. This is especially true with sports movies (to this, I pay close attention, since I have written the baseball novel). It's as if movie makers think that sports stories don't deserve any kind of special care. For me, the richness of a true story is in its special details. It does take extra effort to look for those details - to draw those kinds of nuanced lines from different points. But isn't it all the richer, to tell the story that way? The lines almost draw themselves, when a writer is faithful to facts - either as they happened, or as they could have happened - while allowing the imagination the freedom to take the story to depths beyond facts. Life can be a lot like art, if we allow it to be - if we allow ourselves to see the themes and symbols, see how we grow within the moments of our lives, day to day. Portraying a true story, while believing that the story contains themes and symbols - just like our own lives do - is key - as is the dramatization of those facts, themes and symbols in a way that gives cohesiveness. We are, after all, taking the expansiveness of life and condensing it into a two-hour movie. How do we tell that story so that it honors both the story and the telling of it? It's a delicate balance, but one that, if done well, will allow the telling of a slice of life that touches something deep within.
I do hope "The King's Speech" keeps winning awards. It's subtle, character-driven, and an interesting slice of history, told well (in my opinion). It was a great way to spend an afternoon.
In fact, that was a big reason why I wanted to see it - the history part of it. I had read an article by someone who was disappointed that the movie "made up" facts (was the claim of the article's author) - both saying that the stutter was not as pronounced as the movie intimates, and that Winston Churchill was not really supportive of a change of crown from older brother to younger. I've written about a slice of history in my baseball novel ("Until the End of the Ninth," based on the true story of the 1946 Spokane Indians' minor league team and the bus crash that killed nine of the team's players). I want this story to be made into a movie. And I want the film maker to have a sense of what it means to tell a story, fictionalized, while still honoring the truth of the story being told. So I wanted to see how "The King's Speech" was made. I readied myself for disappointment.
As it turned out, however, I was pleasantly surprised. Any artistic license that they took with the facts described above seemed reasonable to me, as I watched the movie. The stuttering seemed like a lifetime - but was only seconds. This must be how it feels to speak publicly - to an entire nation, as a leader - when, the whole time, you fear that you will stutter. As for Churchill - whether he supported the older brother in public to keep the crown doesn't mean he always supported him in private. I expect that Churchill was, at a minimum, of two minds, so having the movie portray him as being of one opinion over the other didn't bother me. In the end, I was pretty happy that I could enjoy the movie for both its storytelling and for its honorable efforts to tell a story based on a true event.
In fact, it is a special art to tell a true story through the vehicle of fictionalized drama. Few even try to do it, and only a handful of those people succeed. This is especially true with sports movies (to this, I pay close attention, since I have written the baseball novel). It's as if movie makers think that sports stories don't deserve any kind of special care. For me, the richness of a true story is in its special details. It does take extra effort to look for those details - to draw those kinds of nuanced lines from different points. But isn't it all the richer, to tell the story that way? The lines almost draw themselves, when a writer is faithful to facts - either as they happened, or as they could have happened - while allowing the imagination the freedom to take the story to depths beyond facts. Life can be a lot like art, if we allow it to be - if we allow ourselves to see the themes and symbols, see how we grow within the moments of our lives, day to day. Portraying a true story, while believing that the story contains themes and symbols - just like our own lives do - is key - as is the dramatization of those facts, themes and symbols in a way that gives cohesiveness. We are, after all, taking the expansiveness of life and condensing it into a two-hour movie. How do we tell that story so that it honors both the story and the telling of it? It's a delicate balance, but one that, if done well, will allow the telling of a slice of life that touches something deep within.
I do hope "The King's Speech" keeps winning awards. It's subtle, character-driven, and an interesting slice of history, told well (in my opinion). It was a great way to spend an afternoon.
Monday, January 31, 2011
"As I Lay Dying"
"I made it on the bevel." - Cash, "As I Lay Dying"
I read somewhere that someone (I forget who, now) is turning this William Faulkner novel into a movie. And I think - well, how? How will that be accomplished?
*****
UPDATE: Here we are, awhile later - 2012, in fact - saw some photos of the filming by James Franco and company (another "Rabbit" named entity, I might point out - Rabbit Bandini production company folks). It looked good. I will have faith, I will have faith....
*****
I was 14 and a freshman in high school when I first read that book. Immediately, I fell in love with it. My teacher was part of the reason - he loved the book too, and he explained to us young 'uns what we were about to read - a stream-of-consciousness story of Addie - a Southern woman who had died - told from the points of view of her family - from their thoughts. So it's a head game, you see - and yes, there are pieces of a story too, so that you see the family go on the trip to bury her. But - the trip itself is just a vehicle. It's what the people are saying in their minds that is most important.
Take Cash, for example - the son who builds the coffin. He isn't Darl (who reads minds, and knows exactly what's what). He isn't Jewel (his name says it all - and more, as the book progresses). Cash is much more concrete - what he can tell you is how he made the coffin. "I made it on the bevel," he says, as the first sentence of his first chapter. That's how he can explain what he's doing, what it means to him, that his mother has died. (I must credit my teacher for pointing out that bit, actually - it has stuck with me all these years too - how choosing one sentence in particular for a character's opening line can be so definitive for that character).
I didn't like Addie much as the book progressed (the mom). Aren't you supposed to like the mom? And a dead one at that? There was nothing too warm and fuzzy about her, though. Especially as the book progresses.
The daughter doesn't stand out to me much either - Daisy, I think was her name (oops -it's Dewey Dell) - the dad, I'm remembering almost not at all. Darl was something else, though. It was Darl that kept me in the story the most. Imagine, knowing everyone's thoughts... knowing all the family secrets - and not because you have lived them - but because you can hear them, in the heads of those who you are supposed to love - and who are supposed to love you.
When I was in the midst of writing my baseball novel ("Until the End of the Ninth," about a team in 1946 that died in a bus crash) - someone suggested that I add a narrator. I had the Spirit Woman already, as a third person character - the one who helps the men transition from life into death. Suddenly I had a narrator too - who was semi-omniscient, who could read most thoughts and be basically wherever I needed the narrator to be - not identified as male or female - time period also unidentified - did he (or she) come from a different time period? and only the Spirit Woman was able to see him (or her). Interestingly, nobody has complained to me about the narrator. The narrator has seemed to give comfort without concern.
It was "As I Lay Dying" that inspired me to have such a narrator. Thank you, William Faulkner, for your courage back in 1930 to try the almost-unimaginable. Almost, but not quite, out of reach of the imagination - I mean, you thought of it, didn't you? It was there for the imagining. I hope - believe - I did justice to that style. And when they make "As I Lay Dying" into a movie, I hope they can do justice to what William Faulkner intended by telling that story - not just through the story's details, but by the way he told it, too.
I read somewhere that someone (I forget who, now) is turning this William Faulkner novel into a movie. And I think - well, how? How will that be accomplished?
*****
UPDATE: Here we are, awhile later - 2012, in fact - saw some photos of the filming by James Franco and company (another "Rabbit" named entity, I might point out - Rabbit Bandini production company folks). It looked good. I will have faith, I will have faith....
*****
I was 14 and a freshman in high school when I first read that book. Immediately, I fell in love with it. My teacher was part of the reason - he loved the book too, and he explained to us young 'uns what we were about to read - a stream-of-consciousness story of Addie - a Southern woman who had died - told from the points of view of her family - from their thoughts. So it's a head game, you see - and yes, there are pieces of a story too, so that you see the family go on the trip to bury her. But - the trip itself is just a vehicle. It's what the people are saying in their minds that is most important.
Take Cash, for example - the son who builds the coffin. He isn't Darl (who reads minds, and knows exactly what's what). He isn't Jewel (his name says it all - and more, as the book progresses). Cash is much more concrete - what he can tell you is how he made the coffin. "I made it on the bevel," he says, as the first sentence of his first chapter. That's how he can explain what he's doing, what it means to him, that his mother has died. (I must credit my teacher for pointing out that bit, actually - it has stuck with me all these years too - how choosing one sentence in particular for a character's opening line can be so definitive for that character).
I didn't like Addie much as the book progressed (the mom). Aren't you supposed to like the mom? And a dead one at that? There was nothing too warm and fuzzy about her, though. Especially as the book progresses.
The daughter doesn't stand out to me much either - Daisy, I think was her name (oops -it's Dewey Dell) - the dad, I'm remembering almost not at all. Darl was something else, though. It was Darl that kept me in the story the most. Imagine, knowing everyone's thoughts... knowing all the family secrets - and not because you have lived them - but because you can hear them, in the heads of those who you are supposed to love - and who are supposed to love you.
When I was in the midst of writing my baseball novel ("Until the End of the Ninth," about a team in 1946 that died in a bus crash) - someone suggested that I add a narrator. I had the Spirit Woman already, as a third person character - the one who helps the men transition from life into death. Suddenly I had a narrator too - who was semi-omniscient, who could read most thoughts and be basically wherever I needed the narrator to be - not identified as male or female - time period also unidentified - did he (or she) come from a different time period? and only the Spirit Woman was able to see him (or her). Interestingly, nobody has complained to me about the narrator. The narrator has seemed to give comfort without concern.
It was "As I Lay Dying" that inspired me to have such a narrator. Thank you, William Faulkner, for your courage back in 1930 to try the almost-unimaginable. Almost, but not quite, out of reach of the imagination - I mean, you thought of it, didn't you? It was there for the imagining. I hope - believe - I did justice to that style. And when they make "As I Lay Dying" into a movie, I hope they can do justice to what William Faulkner intended by telling that story - not just through the story's details, but by the way he told it, too.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Interesting Clip - SNL
Well, I wasn't actually awake to watch it - but this is a fun clip from Saturday Night Live last night - the first meeting between Facebook's Mark Zuckerberg and the guy who played him in the movie -
I haven't seen the film yet - probably should - just because I do enjoy FB'ing itself - and also for that whole Best Picture Nomination thing. I think Mark Zuckerberg's a pretty good sport to do this at all - and I think he ended up with the best line, about inventing "poking." :)
I haven't seen the film yet - probably should - just because I do enjoy FB'ing itself - and also for that whole Best Picture Nomination thing. I think Mark Zuckerberg's a pretty good sport to do this at all - and I think he ended up with the best line, about inventing "poking." :)
Sunday, January 23, 2011
The Tenor of Politics (with update)
I just posted this comment on Huckleberries Online (a news blog at Spokane's Spokesman Review), after reading Kathleen Parker's column in this a.m. I'm cross-publishing it here.
Kathleen Parker has a column this a.m., giving Sarah Palin what appears to be a pass on saying “don't retreat, reload!” in connection with her gun-sights map from last year that targeted 20 democrats across the country (one of whom was shot in the head two weeks ago and has somehow survived), while simultaneously taking to task those who use the phrase “Nazi” when convenient (which was done this week by a democratic congressman).Here's the thing: I don't want to give anyone a pass on this kind of language and imagery.
A year ago, when Palin's crosshairs map went up on line, I was concerned. When I heard recently that Democrats did something similar in 2004 (at least with regard to the map), I was concerned. When the Dem called Repubs a Nazi last week, I shook my head in disbelief. When I see photos of anyone with a Nazi moustache - most recently it's been President Obama who has been so drawn - I think, people are crazy (and am concerned when political leaders condone the drawings).
Kathleen Parker says that Sarah Palin didn't mean that people should use their guns. But isn't it irresponsible to talk that way in the first place? And if the Dem from last week says that he didn't really mean Nazis - isn't it irresponsible to use the phrase? These are words, people - being said out loud, or typed into a computer. It takes personal action, choices, to reach the point of saying Nazi or of saying “reload.” And if it was just an accident - if Sarah Palin didn't “mean” to evoke the imagery - then why did she leave the map up in spite of people's protests at the time?
I don't care if Sarah Palin's crosshairs map - and her follow-up to “reload” - is what triggered the shooting two weeks ago. If it did, or if it did not, her advocacy for using gun targets on a political map, and her violent rhetoric, was and is a tee-up for potential violence. I don't choose sides when I am concerned about violence metaphors used by our politicians. I don't want ANY of them to do it. But she doesn't get a free pass from me on her graphic symbolism. She gets all the credit in the world - at a minimum, for upping the ante on the vitriol.
I guess what we're saying, if we accept all of this, is that our politicians are immature and/or should pander to the basest emotions in us all. That, my friends, is part of what causes reasonable people to turn away from the entire mess of politics.
When our country first began, we used to hold town halls, where the details of a politican's plan were outlined, and people could evaluate from there. That system has given way to our current soundbite culture. It is what it is. But as the president said at his speech in Arizona, I would rather see us live up to our children's expectations.
I added this:
On the same topic as above: I very much appreciated this op-ed piece by Senator John McCain in the Washington Post recently:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2011/01/14/AR2011011403871.html
Speaking substantively - having intelligent debates - is a heck of a lot harder than throwing mud. But if you have the debate, I promise to listen.
UPDATE: We went back and forth on the Huckleberries posting yesterday - one thing that struck me as we wrote - few out there know much about that rifle target map - it did list names - and there were three red "splats" on the districts where the Dem had decided to retire - as I mentioned on Huckleberries, I decided to look at the map itself back last March because I thought the article I was reading about it was exaggerating - when I saw the map, I remember thinking: who is going to die as a result of this map? So for me, the concern about that map has been around a very long time.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
"My Favorite Band Does Not Exist"
Two Saturdays ago now, I was in San Diego at the American Librarians Association mid-winter conference (I believe is the title), standing by my baseball novel at the top of every hour for about 10 minutes, and then wandering the rest of the time.
On one of my wanderings, the robot hit on me. Seriously - asked me to marry him. But that's a story for another post - perhaps never to be written. (Don't know. Haven't decided.)
On another one of my wanderings, I happened by the Houghton Mifflin publisher's table - Clarion Books section. There was a black book propped up there. Lack of color notwithstanding (or maybe because of its starkness?), I picked up the book and casually flipped through the pages. There was darkness, and then crinkles, on the pages' edges, as though the pages were torn on the inside - except it was just the way the pages were printed to look. It made me curious. So I turned the book over and read the back. "Being trapped in a book can be a nightmare - just ask Idea Deity," it read.
How cool is that? "What a great idea," I said out loud (or maybe I said "how cool is that?"). I sort of startled the two women standing at the counter. We started talking - one of them was the book's editor. She offered to give me a copy. "I'm not a librarian," I warned her - I can't be either buying or distributing the book to a wider readership. She told me to take a copy anyway. I do suppose that anyone that excited about a book's concept should receive a free copy when free copies are being distributed...
So I took a copy, and read it on the plane. By the time I landed, I had only a few pages left to read of "My Favorite Band Does Not Exist," by Robert Jeschonek.
MFBDNE is worthy of its concept. And when it comes out (which isn't for a few months yet), I highly recommend it - if you're intrigued by the ins and outs of what it means to imagine someone thinking that they are trapped in a book in the first place.
The reason for the caveat? There's a lot in this book. Its whirlwind effort, and choice to bounce between several worlds via pithy, Dan-Brown-like short chapters, means that I read it both too quickly and not fast enough - I knew I was missing things along the way, but I really wanted to know what happened. Perhaps that means I will read it a second time? Perhaps. And that is not something I normally do.
The fact is, I wanted to know what happened. Sometimes, today's authors do not keep my attention, especially when the main characters are so much younger than I am. But here, the author's view of a bigger-picture concept made the story's details interesting to me.
There's Idea Deity, as one main character - and Reacher Mirage, who Idea thinks he's created, and who is annoyed that Idea keeps posting things about him on the Internet. There's the goddess-like girl who is with Idea, and another goddess-like girl who is with Reacher - there are the things that the two goddesses seem to have in common... there's a green sky and a blue one - and then there is the book within the book - "Fireskull's Revenant" - ...
Let's just say it's complicated.
I did find that both the title and that first line about being trapped in a book do not fully capture the fullness of the book's journey through reality possibilities - but it's a decent jumping-off point. If I complained at all, it would be two-fold. First, there comes a point towards the end of the book where the author ends up explaining a lot of what is going on. (This is probably a complaint unique to me - I have found out in recent years that I'm in the minority on wanting mysteries like that to remain unsolved and/or left to my imagination.) Second - well, the characters are really young, and so are a little - mmm - limited in their view of what stands out in life as most important. (Did I mention I'll be 50 in a couple of months?) (omg - when did that happen?) But this publisher, and its Clarion Books section, is focused on youth, so it makes sense the main characters are young. And the story itself - and its underlying concepts - overrode those two elements for me, making the book accessible not just to young people but to old folks like me too. In other words, it's definitely worth the read.
This is a fantasy book, or so I believe - I don't read a lot of fantasy, so I can't say for sure. I do write in a way that's been called "magical realism" though, so I was drawn to the author's imagining of worlds beyond what we know already. Perhaps one of the book's best strengths is its ability to write fantasy while staying very grounded in reality - or multiple realities, as the case may be.
One thing I really liked is the allegorical nature of the various characters' names. If someone is called "Idea Deity," and someone else is "Reacher Mirage" - what can we learn from that? Though I must admit - I was too busy getting through the novel to spend a lot of time wondering about it. Which is where it might behoove me to re-read for nuances, now that I know the ending.
On one of my wanderings, the robot hit on me. Seriously - asked me to marry him. But that's a story for another post - perhaps never to be written. (Don't know. Haven't decided.)
On another one of my wanderings, I happened by the Houghton Mifflin publisher's table - Clarion Books section. There was a black book propped up there. Lack of color notwithstanding (or maybe because of its starkness?), I picked up the book and casually flipped through the pages. There was darkness, and then crinkles, on the pages' edges, as though the pages were torn on the inside - except it was just the way the pages were printed to look. It made me curious. So I turned the book over and read the back. "Being trapped in a book can be a nightmare - just ask Idea Deity," it read.
How cool is that? "What a great idea," I said out loud (or maybe I said "how cool is that?"). I sort of startled the two women standing at the counter. We started talking - one of them was the book's editor. She offered to give me a copy. "I'm not a librarian," I warned her - I can't be either buying or distributing the book to a wider readership. She told me to take a copy anyway. I do suppose that anyone that excited about a book's concept should receive a free copy when free copies are being distributed...
So I took a copy, and read it on the plane. By the time I landed, I had only a few pages left to read of "My Favorite Band Does Not Exist," by Robert Jeschonek.
MFBDNE is worthy of its concept. And when it comes out (which isn't for a few months yet), I highly recommend it - if you're intrigued by the ins and outs of what it means to imagine someone thinking that they are trapped in a book in the first place.
The reason for the caveat? There's a lot in this book. Its whirlwind effort, and choice to bounce between several worlds via pithy, Dan-Brown-like short chapters, means that I read it both too quickly and not fast enough - I knew I was missing things along the way, but I really wanted to know what happened. Perhaps that means I will read it a second time? Perhaps. And that is not something I normally do.
The fact is, I wanted to know what happened. Sometimes, today's authors do not keep my attention, especially when the main characters are so much younger than I am. But here, the author's view of a bigger-picture concept made the story's details interesting to me.
There's Idea Deity, as one main character - and Reacher Mirage, who Idea thinks he's created, and who is annoyed that Idea keeps posting things about him on the Internet. There's the goddess-like girl who is with Idea, and another goddess-like girl who is with Reacher - there are the things that the two goddesses seem to have in common... there's a green sky and a blue one - and then there is the book within the book - "Fireskull's Revenant" - ...
Let's just say it's complicated.
I did find that both the title and that first line about being trapped in a book do not fully capture the fullness of the book's journey through reality possibilities - but it's a decent jumping-off point. If I complained at all, it would be two-fold. First, there comes a point towards the end of the book where the author ends up explaining a lot of what is going on. (This is probably a complaint unique to me - I have found out in recent years that I'm in the minority on wanting mysteries like that to remain unsolved and/or left to my imagination.) Second - well, the characters are really young, and so are a little - mmm - limited in their view of what stands out in life as most important. (Did I mention I'll be 50 in a couple of months?) (omg - when did that happen?) But this publisher, and its Clarion Books section, is focused on youth, so it makes sense the main characters are young. And the story itself - and its underlying concepts - overrode those two elements for me, making the book accessible not just to young people but to old folks like me too. In other words, it's definitely worth the read.
This is a fantasy book, or so I believe - I don't read a lot of fantasy, so I can't say for sure. I do write in a way that's been called "magical realism" though, so I was drawn to the author's imagining of worlds beyond what we know already. Perhaps one of the book's best strengths is its ability to write fantasy while staying very grounded in reality - or multiple realities, as the case may be.
One thing I really liked is the allegorical nature of the various characters' names. If someone is called "Idea Deity," and someone else is "Reacher Mirage" - what can we learn from that? Though I must admit - I was too busy getting through the novel to spend a lot of time wondering about it. Which is where it might behoove me to re-read for nuances, now that I know the ending.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Tucson Tragedy
I thought a few days' time would help bring words to me. But I'm still just horrified. Saying nothing at all, however, makes it look like I'm unaffected. So, here they are. A handful of words for the victims of the shooting in Tucson. I wish I had more. The depth of my emotions - and the emotions of so many - stretch beyond words. And then - Jon Stewart - what he said last night was the best I've heard so far: http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/mon-january-10-2011/arizona-shootings-reaction
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Huck Finn (with update)
So in Huckleberry Finn Land, they're taking out the "n" word and replacing it with "slave" (and changing "Injun" to "Indian," is what I hear). Hmm. The idea, as it's explained, is to create an elementary school level version of the Huck Finn story without distracting the young students with a discussion of the "n" word in general, and why their anti-hero Huck is using it in particular. It makes sense, right? Sigh...
This commentator makes a good point - that we study literature both because it's brilliant and because it gives us a view into a time in history that we otherwise wouldn't know. Classics are both classic and tied to their time periods.
The purist in me prefers the unabridged version. The realist in me acknowledges comments from Twain scholars (Mark Twain being one of my favorite authors) who say that primary and even secondary school teachers have opted out of teaching Finn because of the awkward conversations it provokes. I'd rather see Mr. Clemens read. Right? But - at the cost of a major part of the book?? because doesn't it cost the book, to take Huck's real friendship with Jim and then contrast it with that ugly "n" word that was Jim's societal label? and that's just for starters, when it comes to editing a classic like "Huckleberry Finn."
It reminds me of studying "My Name Is Asher Lev" in high school. I loved that book. It is by Chaim Potok, and is about a young boy growing up in New York and grappling with his dual, at-times contrasting identities of artist and Hasidic Jew. I don't remember why I loved that book so much, though it may have had something to do with my less-obvious but still-conflicting existence of being an aspiring writer with stoic Northern European roots (where flights of fancy are just not understood). (Thank goodness for that touch of Irish and Cherokee - and Viking - blood in me, all of which give permission to sparks of passion beyond practical common sense.)
In class discussion, my teacher stated that - regardless of quality - "Asher Lev" would never be considered a classic because it did not have a universal theme. It's a specific story about a specific theme, and would not stand the test of time (he said). I was dumbfounded. That didn't seem fair. So, no matter how well written a novel is, it can't be considered a classic if it focuses on one person's unique cultural and religious struggles?
I do think my teacher was wrong - would have to re-read "Asher Lev" to see if he was wrong about that novel in particular. I do appreciate the above commentator's point of view - that classics give us both something timeless and something about that time. And with "Huck Finn," I wonder if eliminating the "n" word takes away from both aspects of that classic in particular.
UPDATE: I received an email yesterday about this posting from Rosa Sow of newsy.com (a website that attempts to gather diverse viewpoints on a particular issue and condense them in one synopsis), chatting with me about this post and then asking me to consider embedding the following video into the post. Sure, why not? Though I think it's a really shortened version of the whole argument ... it does give some interesting soundbites, if you're looking for a quick summary. (And while I'm at it, these two letters in the New York Times - by writers unhappy with the change - are really interesting too, in that they point out (a) it sanitation is the goal, you also need to edit out the thievery and mayhem, and (b) "slave" is the least optimal word to use as replacement since a major point in the book is that Jim is finally a free man.)
Here's the newsy.com video:
This commentator makes a good point - that we study literature both because it's brilliant and because it gives us a view into a time in history that we otherwise wouldn't know. Classics are both classic and tied to their time periods.
The purist in me prefers the unabridged version. The realist in me acknowledges comments from Twain scholars (Mark Twain being one of my favorite authors) who say that primary and even secondary school teachers have opted out of teaching Finn because of the awkward conversations it provokes. I'd rather see Mr. Clemens read. Right? But - at the cost of a major part of the book?? because doesn't it cost the book, to take Huck's real friendship with Jim and then contrast it with that ugly "n" word that was Jim's societal label? and that's just for starters, when it comes to editing a classic like "Huckleberry Finn."
It reminds me of studying "My Name Is Asher Lev" in high school. I loved that book. It is by Chaim Potok, and is about a young boy growing up in New York and grappling with his dual, at-times contrasting identities of artist and Hasidic Jew. I don't remember why I loved that book so much, though it may have had something to do with my less-obvious but still-conflicting existence of being an aspiring writer with stoic Northern European roots (where flights of fancy are just not understood). (Thank goodness for that touch of Irish and Cherokee - and Viking - blood in me, all of which give permission to sparks of passion beyond practical common sense.)
In class discussion, my teacher stated that - regardless of quality - "Asher Lev" would never be considered a classic because it did not have a universal theme. It's a specific story about a specific theme, and would not stand the test of time (he said). I was dumbfounded. That didn't seem fair. So, no matter how well written a novel is, it can't be considered a classic if it focuses on one person's unique cultural and religious struggles?
I do think my teacher was wrong - would have to re-read "Asher Lev" to see if he was wrong about that novel in particular. I do appreciate the above commentator's point of view - that classics give us both something timeless and something about that time. And with "Huck Finn," I wonder if eliminating the "n" word takes away from both aspects of that classic in particular.
UPDATE: I received an email yesterday about this posting from Rosa Sow of newsy.com (a website that attempts to gather diverse viewpoints on a particular issue and condense them in one synopsis), chatting with me about this post and then asking me to consider embedding the following video into the post. Sure, why not? Though I think it's a really shortened version of the whole argument ... it does give some interesting soundbites, if you're looking for a quick summary. (And while I'm at it, these two letters in the New York Times - by writers unhappy with the change - are really interesting too, in that they point out (a) it sanitation is the goal, you also need to edit out the thievery and mayhem, and (b) "slave" is the least optimal word to use as replacement since a major point in the book is that Jim is finally a free man.)
Here's the newsy.com video:
Multisource political news, world news, and entertainment news analysis by Newsy.com
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Alex Is Famous!
Yesterday I posted photos on Facebook of my cat Alex standing on the roof, meowing at me that I should catch him if he jumped. I declined, but took some photos of him in the meantime.
(It's a favorite game of his, going on eight years now - he gets on the roof via the tree in the back, then stands there meowing about the injustice of it all, that he can't figure out how to get down and how he needs help and all - when he was a lot younger, I'd walk him back to the tree to remind him how he'd gotten there - now, I just tell him he'll have to get down on his own - I'm sure he understands every word! but he does get the gist of things, and sooner or later has solved his dilemma.) (and yes, that's fresh snow on that there roof!)
My friend Cindy - who is running the local newspaper's blog Huckleberries this week - decided to use the photo as her "parting shot." So there is Alex, on top of the roof! She calls the entry "Cat on a cold snowy roof." Funny. And though I do recall mentioning to her that he didn't actually jump, she writes in the entry that he "jumped into Beth's arms, which is better than on her head." Well, that last part is true...
Here's the link: http://www.spokesman.com/blogs/hbo/2010/dec/29/parting-shot-cat-cold-snowy-roof/
And here are the two photos - Cindy only used the first in the "parting shot" entry:
(It's a favorite game of his, going on eight years now - he gets on the roof via the tree in the back, then stands there meowing about the injustice of it all, that he can't figure out how to get down and how he needs help and all - when he was a lot younger, I'd walk him back to the tree to remind him how he'd gotten there - now, I just tell him he'll have to get down on his own - I'm sure he understands every word! but he does get the gist of things, and sooner or later has solved his dilemma.) (and yes, that's fresh snow on that there roof!)
My friend Cindy - who is running the local newspaper's blog Huckleberries this week - decided to use the photo as her "parting shot." So there is Alex, on top of the roof! She calls the entry "Cat on a cold snowy roof." Funny. And though I do recall mentioning to her that he didn't actually jump, she writes in the entry that he "jumped into Beth's arms, which is better than on her head." Well, that last part is true...
Here's the link: http://www.spokesman.com/blogs/hbo/2010/dec/29/parting-shot-cat-cold-snowy-roof/
And here are the two photos - Cindy only used the first in the "parting shot" entry:
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Remembrance
I've been organizing a packet of material on the baseball novel I wrote - "Until the End of the Ninth," based on the true story of the 1946 Spokane Indians minor league team that died in a bus crash midway through the season (nine of the 16 men on the bus died) - so I've been going back through old material that I got back when the book first came out, in 2006 - have been reading notes and letters that I received back then - handwritten notes, from wives whose husbands were on that bus, back in 1946 - from nephews whose uncles were...
And I'm remembering how sad this story can make me feel. They were such great men. I say it at book signings, over and over - I sign it into print, as one of my phrases when autographing books - I mean it, I do. But just now, re-reading these notes, I'm feeling it again too. It seems almost unfair and unreasonable, to feel agony for untimely deaths of men who today - almost 65 years later - most likely would not still be alive anyway. But I can, and I do. Today will be one of those days when my heart breaks for the rest of the day, thinking about what those men and their families went through back then... Maybe that's the agony part. Knowing what people felt back then. Knowing that the novel brought back those memories for loved ones. Reading about it in letters that they wrote in 2006, telling me that - thanking me for writing the novel, but explaining how it's filled their hearts with sadness, to remember those days from long ago.
Don't know what else to say. Don't know that there really is anything else. Just... it hit me hard today, remembering with the heart.
And I'm remembering how sad this story can make me feel. They were such great men. I say it at book signings, over and over - I sign it into print, as one of my phrases when autographing books - I mean it, I do. But just now, re-reading these notes, I'm feeling it again too. It seems almost unfair and unreasonable, to feel agony for untimely deaths of men who today - almost 65 years later - most likely would not still be alive anyway. But I can, and I do. Today will be one of those days when my heart breaks for the rest of the day, thinking about what those men and their families went through back then... Maybe that's the agony part. Knowing what people felt back then. Knowing that the novel brought back those memories for loved ones. Reading about it in letters that they wrote in 2006, telling me that - thanking me for writing the novel, but explaining how it's filled their hearts with sadness, to remember those days from long ago.
Don't know what else to say. Don't know that there really is anything else. Just... it hit me hard today, remembering with the heart.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Miracles
"Even a poor tailor is entitled to some happiness."
-Motel to Tevye in "Fiddler on the Roof," when Motel is asking Tevye for Tzeitel's hand in marriage and Tevye accuses him of being too poor...
And then Tevye says yes. And Motel sings, "Wonder of wonder, miracle of miracles..." I love that song. "David slew Goliath, yeah - that was a miracle..." and manna in the wilderness - a miracle too. But the most miraculous miracle in Motel's eyes? "God has given you to me."
I could use some of my own miracles right now. Little ones, from God's perspective, but really big ones in my own life. Like in the song. Small, for God. But the most amazing of all, for me. Three of them, would be a perfect number. You know who you are (she said to the miracles-in-waiting - all intertwined, as they happen to be, so they know each other too).
There happened to be one - miracle, that is - in the Eagles/Giants game this past Sunday. (Eagles fan here.) They are calling it the "miracle in the new Meadowlands," so amazing it was - and a play on the original "miracle in the Meadowlands" back in 1978 (also a play that went the way of the Eagles). (The Giants just got a new football field this past summer, making it the "new" Meadowlands.)
I keep watching this past Sunday's miracle on youtube - the clock runs down to 0:00 as DeSean Jackson runs a punt back 65 yards for the winning touchdown. Un. Believable. (is what I wrote on Facebook, and how the announcer said it too, turns out). Actually, I kind of like this version best, because it shows how Jackson waves the ball to himself ahead of time - hands to the sky, waving it down to himself, even before the ball is punted. I remember watching the game, so relieved that the Eagles had tied it up, waiting for the clock to run out, for the overtime, seeing DeSean ask for the ball with his hands, and thinking - well, it's nice he has some bravado in him...
And then. Un. Believable.
A lot led up to that 65-yard miracle. The Eagles were down - twice - by 21 points, the second time with only eight minutes left in the entire game. They had to have faith - had to believe in redemption in the same 90-minute period to regain ground sufficiently enough to be able to have a punt return win the game with 0 seconds left on the clock. No need for overtime, that time...
So it was an explosive miracle at the end, yes. But we needed mini miracles along the way for the end moment to make a difference.
Last night was an full moon lunar eclipse as well as the solstice. It was a miracle of coincidences, I suppose. When I went to sleep, I asked for a dream to help me understand where things are going in my life - and how, and when. (Now, please.) And I dreamt - well, a lot of things, but what I remember most vividly ... I was at a church service, and the minister was doing the readings that led up to the sermon - a sermon that I was going to give. It was on miracles. I felt confident - I could speak with authority on this one (is how I felt in the dream). So the minister gave the readings, and I got up to the pulpit (looked more like a podium - the church was more like a rec room, actually) - the audience looked expectantly... And I said, "The thing about miracles is... they come unexpectedly. Think of the last time you had one. And now, remember the day before it happened. You didn't know it would happen, did you? One moment, it didn't exist. The next moment, it did. That is part of the magic of a miracle. Not just that it is one. But that there is the space before it occurs, when you don't know it will occur, when you wonder if it ever can occur, that makes the gift of the miraculous feel just that much more poignant..."
I woke up and thought - I better keep my eyes open for what happens next.
Even a poor tailor is entitled to some happiness.
-Motel to Tevye in "Fiddler on the Roof," when Motel is asking Tevye for Tzeitel's hand in marriage and Tevye accuses him of being too poor...
And then Tevye says yes. And Motel sings, "Wonder of wonder, miracle of miracles..." I love that song. "David slew Goliath, yeah - that was a miracle..." and manna in the wilderness - a miracle too. But the most miraculous miracle in Motel's eyes? "God has given you to me."
I could use some of my own miracles right now. Little ones, from God's perspective, but really big ones in my own life. Like in the song. Small, for God. But the most amazing of all, for me. Three of them, would be a perfect number. You know who you are (she said to the miracles-in-waiting - all intertwined, as they happen to be, so they know each other too).
There happened to be one - miracle, that is - in the Eagles/Giants game this past Sunday. (Eagles fan here.) They are calling it the "miracle in the new Meadowlands," so amazing it was - and a play on the original "miracle in the Meadowlands" back in 1978 (also a play that went the way of the Eagles). (The Giants just got a new football field this past summer, making it the "new" Meadowlands.)
I keep watching this past Sunday's miracle on youtube - the clock runs down to 0:00 as DeSean Jackson runs a punt back 65 yards for the winning touchdown. Un. Believable. (is what I wrote on Facebook, and how the announcer said it too, turns out). Actually, I kind of like this version best, because it shows how Jackson waves the ball to himself ahead of time - hands to the sky, waving it down to himself, even before the ball is punted. I remember watching the game, so relieved that the Eagles had tied it up, waiting for the clock to run out, for the overtime, seeing DeSean ask for the ball with his hands, and thinking - well, it's nice he has some bravado in him...
And then. Un. Believable.
A lot led up to that 65-yard miracle. The Eagles were down - twice - by 21 points, the second time with only eight minutes left in the entire game. They had to have faith - had to believe in redemption in the same 90-minute period to regain ground sufficiently enough to be able to have a punt return win the game with 0 seconds left on the clock. No need for overtime, that time...
So it was an explosive miracle at the end, yes. But we needed mini miracles along the way for the end moment to make a difference.
Last night was an full moon lunar eclipse as well as the solstice. It was a miracle of coincidences, I suppose. When I went to sleep, I asked for a dream to help me understand where things are going in my life - and how, and when. (Now, please.) And I dreamt - well, a lot of things, but what I remember most vividly ... I was at a church service, and the minister was doing the readings that led up to the sermon - a sermon that I was going to give. It was on miracles. I felt confident - I could speak with authority on this one (is how I felt in the dream). So the minister gave the readings, and I got up to the pulpit (looked more like a podium - the church was more like a rec room, actually) - the audience looked expectantly... And I said, "The thing about miracles is... they come unexpectedly. Think of the last time you had one. And now, remember the day before it happened. You didn't know it would happen, did you? One moment, it didn't exist. The next moment, it did. That is part of the magic of a miracle. Not just that it is one. But that there is the space before it occurs, when you don't know it will occur, when you wonder if it ever can occur, that makes the gift of the miraculous feel just that much more poignant..."
I woke up and thought - I better keep my eyes open for what happens next.
Even a poor tailor is entitled to some happiness.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Brothers
I'm just back from another week of babysitting nephews - ages 3 and just-5 months. My sister and her husband were taking a just-vacation trip to Paris (lucky! their first actual no-work vacation together, just the two of them, since the 3-year-old was born), so I offered to come babysit again. This time my mom came to help too. It was a godsend, really, to have an extra pair of hands. I'm always so impressed with my bro-in-law - the primary caretaker - when I spend a week in charge of the household that he runs so smoothly. How does he do it?? My forte is not in keeping the house clean, or keeping up on the laundry - but my mom was great at keeping track of all that. At least one of us was good at that.
It's just two months since I babysat the two of them most recently. Last time, there was still some tension for the older one (I thought), in having a new addition to the family. This time though, the tension had dissipated - almost completely, it seemed. Across the country, there are three-year-olds adjusting to new family additions... these tiny miracles of adaptation are taking place in households all around us... it doesn't make it any easier, though, to know that it happens everywhere. So I marveled at the change that I was privileged to witness. These two boys truly have become brothers.
The three-year-old has always said how the baby is cute. "He's so cute!" The older one says periodically throughout the day. As the baby has gotten bigger (and he is big - a little Kahuna, my friend says), he has gotten more like a little person, and the two boys have been able to start interacting. In fact, there is nothing more fascinating to the baby than to watch his brother whirl around the room with his toy cars, or a ball, or whatever. If the baby was fussing, we'd ask the older one to play in front of him. It would calm him right down, so distracted he would be by his fascination with his older brother, reaching out towards him (just out of reach).
At one point, my mom suggested to my older nephew that he stand close to the baby and let the baby touch him. So he bowed his head towards the baby, who grabbed at it - and then grabbed at his ears, got his nose, his eye... not so much that it hurt (or so I imagine). We all laughed. It started a trend that lasted off and on all week. So much fun.
There was no sleep for the weary, as there are still middle-of-the-night feedings. At one point, as I got up at about 2 a.m. in response to the baby's cry, I looked into the bassinet where he was lying. He saw me and smiled, and cooed a little. "It's a good thing you're cute," I told him. (They must make them cute to make sure we'll take good care of them, my mom said at one point.)
One high point for me was watching football with the three-year-old. I explained to him that his hometown team is the Bears, but that he should feel free to root secretly for the Eagles at all times. He may have taken that to heart, because after the Eagles won Sunday night (they beat Dallas - always a nice achievement), he started carrying around a stuffed Eagle toy with him. Every so often he'd show me the toy, and I'd spell out the team name: "E-A-G-L-E-S, Eagles!" I'd say. He so loves to spell.
I got home late Wednesday night. I miss them already! But I'm glad to be home too, if only so I can sleep the whole night through.
It's just two months since I babysat the two of them most recently. Last time, there was still some tension for the older one (I thought), in having a new addition to the family. This time though, the tension had dissipated - almost completely, it seemed. Across the country, there are three-year-olds adjusting to new family additions... these tiny miracles of adaptation are taking place in households all around us... it doesn't make it any easier, though, to know that it happens everywhere. So I marveled at the change that I was privileged to witness. These two boys truly have become brothers.
The three-year-old has always said how the baby is cute. "He's so cute!" The older one says periodically throughout the day. As the baby has gotten bigger (and he is big - a little Kahuna, my friend says), he has gotten more like a little person, and the two boys have been able to start interacting. In fact, there is nothing more fascinating to the baby than to watch his brother whirl around the room with his toy cars, or a ball, or whatever. If the baby was fussing, we'd ask the older one to play in front of him. It would calm him right down, so distracted he would be by his fascination with his older brother, reaching out towards him (just out of reach).
At one point, my mom suggested to my older nephew that he stand close to the baby and let the baby touch him. So he bowed his head towards the baby, who grabbed at it - and then grabbed at his ears, got his nose, his eye... not so much that it hurt (or so I imagine). We all laughed. It started a trend that lasted off and on all week. So much fun.
There was no sleep for the weary, as there are still middle-of-the-night feedings. At one point, as I got up at about 2 a.m. in response to the baby's cry, I looked into the bassinet where he was lying. He saw me and smiled, and cooed a little. "It's a good thing you're cute," I told him. (They must make them cute to make sure we'll take good care of them, my mom said at one point.)
One high point for me was watching football with the three-year-old. I explained to him that his hometown team is the Bears, but that he should feel free to root secretly for the Eagles at all times. He may have taken that to heart, because after the Eagles won Sunday night (they beat Dallas - always a nice achievement), he started carrying around a stuffed Eagle toy with him. Every so often he'd show me the toy, and I'd spell out the team name: "E-A-G-L-E-S, Eagles!" I'd say. He so loves to spell.
I got home late Wednesday night. I miss them already! But I'm glad to be home too, if only so I can sleep the whole night through.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Planning Ahead
I'm headed to Southern California in early January.
My publishing house asked if I would be one of their featured writers at the American Library Association semi-annual meeting in San Diego. (Actually, it's called their "mid-winter meeting.") It was hard to say no, especially since my dad and family live there. So I decided to go. It's the weekend of January 7. I'm hoping the trip also helps me organize some meetings in Los Angeles, both before and after the weekend.
I have a winding story behind the publishing of my baseball novel ("Until the End of the Ninth," which is based on the true story of the 1946 Spokane Indians team that died in a bus crash midway through the season). Initially I had no patience for the publishing world as I wanted the manuscript in print by the 60th anniversary of the bus crash. So I self-published with Authorhouse. They were great. They always have been great, actually.
Then the next year, the book got picked up by Rooftop Publishing - a new, private publishing company that had some connections to Authorhouse but operated independently. They too were great. Really great. Example: when I was doing a book tour in the summer of 2007, and was on my way to Wisconsin and Minnesota, the bridge in Minneapolis gave way. Overnight, I decided I wanted to donate all of my own proceeds during the WI/MN leg of the trip to the victims and victim families of the bridge collapse. It was the only thing that felt right. I told Kevin King, my publisher. He immediately said that Rooftop would donate the publishing cost as well. In the end, the teams where I had book signings (Eau Claire Express, Duluth Huskies - even the Minnesota Twins) all agreed that any of their proceeds also should be donated. I felt lucky to have teamed up (so to speak) with Rooftop.
Then the company went the way of 2008 and 2009. It no longer is in business. I am now back to Authorhouse.
I have thought about finding another publisher. But the book is already out there - it's really easy to get a copy off the Internet - and my next goal really is to adapt it to film, so I've just left it as is, with Authorhouse and the first edition.
So it is Authorhouse's booth where my book will be featured - in the sports/literature section (or so they tell me). I figure I will be there all day on the Saturday of the conference. I may try to be there on Sunday as well - but definitely I'll be there all day Saturday. It just feels right, to make the trip. We'll see how things go.
My publishing house asked if I would be one of their featured writers at the American Library Association semi-annual meeting in San Diego. (Actually, it's called their "mid-winter meeting.") It was hard to say no, especially since my dad and family live there. So I decided to go. It's the weekend of January 7. I'm hoping the trip also helps me organize some meetings in Los Angeles, both before and after the weekend.
I have a winding story behind the publishing of my baseball novel ("Until the End of the Ninth," which is based on the true story of the 1946 Spokane Indians team that died in a bus crash midway through the season). Initially I had no patience for the publishing world as I wanted the manuscript in print by the 60th anniversary of the bus crash. So I self-published with Authorhouse. They were great. They always have been great, actually.
Then the next year, the book got picked up by Rooftop Publishing - a new, private publishing company that had some connections to Authorhouse but operated independently. They too were great. Really great. Example: when I was doing a book tour in the summer of 2007, and was on my way to Wisconsin and Minnesota, the bridge in Minneapolis gave way. Overnight, I decided I wanted to donate all of my own proceeds during the WI/MN leg of the trip to the victims and victim families of the bridge collapse. It was the only thing that felt right. I told Kevin King, my publisher. He immediately said that Rooftop would donate the publishing cost as well. In the end, the teams where I had book signings (Eau Claire Express, Duluth Huskies - even the Minnesota Twins) all agreed that any of their proceeds also should be donated. I felt lucky to have teamed up (so to speak) with Rooftop.
Then the company went the way of 2008 and 2009. It no longer is in business. I am now back to Authorhouse.
I have thought about finding another publisher. But the book is already out there - it's really easy to get a copy off the Internet - and my next goal really is to adapt it to film, so I've just left it as is, with Authorhouse and the first edition.
So it is Authorhouse's booth where my book will be featured - in the sports/literature section (or so they tell me). I figure I will be there all day on the Saturday of the conference. I may try to be there on Sunday as well - but definitely I'll be there all day Saturday. It just feels right, to make the trip. We'll see how things go.
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