Satisfying My Curiosity

The Moveable Feast of Ernest Hemingway

2012-02-03T20:03:00.000-08:00

The Paris Wife by Stephanie Deutsch (fiction)

A Moveable Feast by Ernst Hemingway (the restored edition non-fiction, although Hemingway believed that every memory soon became fiction)

The Paris Wife has become quite the rage with book clubs. I know my group, the Bibliochix, read it for our first book of the year. I was very curious as to how this book would read. I have a history with Hemingway. If you teach American literature in any high school in America, you have a working knowledge of Hemingway. He's always fascinated me. The macho man, bigger than life, hunter of big game of all types including fishing off his boat, the Pillar. And then there were always rumors that this hid his true nature. But I shan't go there because it isn't a factor in these two books. I do remember thinking, after studying his writings, that he seemed to believe there were 4 different types of women: the rich b*itch, the money grubber, the whore (not prostitute) and the mother. If you read both of these fascinating books, you'll see that all four are depicted. What I knew I would grapple with while reading this book was how true to life was the book and could a book with "fake" dialog be believed.

A Moveable Feast and The Paris Wife are both about Hemingway's early writing life in Paris during the 1920's with his first wife Hadley. Both Hemingway and Hadley lived in the Chicago area when he met her at the age of 21 and she was a 29 year old spinster living in a cob webbed apartment with her older sister. She meets him at a party and is truly smitten.

He asks her first to go to Italy with him but then another writer suggests Paris, the Paris of Gertrude Stein, Ezra Pound and F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald. Hadley saw the fork in the road and took it. One lane led to being an old maid while the other? Living a life with a dashingly handsome man with whom she was madly in love and would be moving to Paris. They married in 1921. It lasted 6 years. There should be no surprise here. Hemingway, Papa, was married four times. Each time to a progressively more wealthy woman.

I read The Paris Wife first and then followed with A Moveable Feast. I wanted to see just how closely Ms. Deutsch had stayed with the true story of Hadley's and Hem's years in Paris. And she does a remarkable job. The title, The Paris Wife, refers to the fact that while Hem was in Paris, he was married to Hadley. The title ,A Moveable Feast , comes from a comment that Hem made while writing about Paris, "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast." From Ms. Deutsch's book she has Hem and Hadley madly in love. And so does Hem in his memoir. (I call him Hem here because that is what his friends called him.) He talks about their making love, the poverty and hunger they both shared, their treks through the Alps and their visits to Spain for the bull fights, and they drank copious amounts of alcohol of all kinds. They even cut their hair to be the same length. In many of the draft intro's he wrote for A Moveable Feast (he never decided on one before he died), he continually called Hadley a "heroine". Deutsch and Hemingway both cover the agony of his learning to write, to go from a newspaper/war correspondent to a full writer of novels and short stories. Deutsch even goes so far as to emulate Hemingway's style when trying to interject some personal story told by Hemingway about his war years. He primarily used italics to does this. There were two fissures that occurred during their brief marriage that, even though Hemingway would not admit it, would bring about his having an affair with Hadley's best friend and subsequent divorce from Hadley. The first was that Hadley, with all good intentions, loses ALL of his unpublished manuscripts. "Loses" because even though she brought them to him to help him, they are stolen from underneath her train seat. He desperately travels back to Paris in the hopes the carbon copies are there, but she had brought the whole lot. The second is that Hadley becomes pregnant. He is an impoverished beginning writer and he felt this would get in his way. Just a tad selfish. Even though he comes to love Jack, Mr. Bumby. Then enters Pauline Pfeiffer, whom Hem calls a "pretty otter of a woman". He says in A Moveable Feast , that while pretending to be Hadley's best friend, Pauline became relentless and the "relentless wins. But finally it is the one that loses that wins and that is the luckiest thing that ever happened for me." He's referring to the fact that Hadley goes on to marry and stay married for 25 years to a very nice, wealthy man. He on the other hand? Well, we know what happens to Papa. There have been 5 suicides in the Hemingway family, the last of which was Margaux.

The major difference between the two works, other than one is fiction and the other not, is that Hemingway's memoir is told from his less emotional point of view while Deutsch's Hadley is told from a feminine and emotional point of view. Considering the emotional baggage that Hadley and Hem carried, both from dysfunctional, depression ridden, mother dominating families, and both with suicides within the family, it's surprising they lived as normal a life as they did. For five years at least.

My book club discussed extensively whether it was to Hadley's benefit to marry Hemingway and our conclusion was a resounding yes. Hemingway, in his memoir says of Hadley, "She is the heroine of the stories and I hope she understands. She deserves everything good in life including accurate reporting."..."The remorse was never away day or night until my wife had married a much finer man than I ever was or ever could be and I knew she was happy." The thing my group focused on was that Hadley had met a man she fell deeply in love with and he had brought to her experiences she never would have had living in her sister's attic.

I again bring up the dialog. At the book's end there is a bittersweet moment that takes place after Hadley has been married for the second time and for many years. Hem calls her out of the blue and acknowledges, to a certain extent, that he knows he broke her heart and he acknowledges his human failings. That he is sorry. In A Moveable Feast he does acknowledge this, but we don't really know if that call was ever made.

"I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after." Hemingway

Hadley, Jack (Mr. Bumby) and Hem

Hemingway died in 1961 at the age of 61 and Hadley, well, Hadley had a long life. She lived to 88 dying in 1979.

The World Was Never the Same: Events That Changed "My" Life

2012-01-24T19:40:00.000-08:00

I ordered from "The Great Courses" (college lectures you listen to in your car or home) The World Was Never the Same: Events That Changed History. Professor J. Fears from the University of Oklahoma selected 36 events beginning in 1750BC through today that in some way he feels impacted and changed the world. The Battle of Vienna (1683) anyone? It got me to thinking. Now that's a dangerous thing to do. It got me to thinking about what major events IN MY LIFE changed MY life. Were they decisions I consciously made or was I fortunate (to use a favorite Obama word) or had dumb/bad luck? The first major event I can remember that had an impact on me was that at the age of 13, I met my future husband. He was a part of my life for 20 years. Mostly good but then, as with a lot of marriages, there was also the bad and then, divorce. Which was good...for me any way. Another seminal event: At the age of 15, my mother decided to go to college, which means she will be away all week, and I become the precursor to today's ironcheflinda. In other words, I learned to cook and love it. During my 20th year, a beloved aunt and cousin die within the same year. I am so traumatized that I quit college and don't go back for 2 years. I make the difficult decision at the age of 33 to divorce and change careers. I change careers not to make more money but to do something I had always loved to do and that is travel. Luckily for me (but I will give myself some creds for my drive, my semi-good looks and my gift of gab ...thanks dad for the last one), I land a great job with a great travel company and meet the love of my life. The last event I will mention is one you've come across from the last two years. At the age of 59, I was diagnosed with spasmodic torticollis. I've chronicled that in my blog (I need to give you an update though).

But as Old Blue Eyes would sing, regrets I've had a few...Back in the '80's when I was a travel agent, the local ASTA chapter (American Association of Travel Agents) asked me to give them a seminar on...get ready for it...TIME MANAGEMENT! Actually, unless I'm in the procrastination mode, I'm usually on time with stuff. I'm sure they expected a seminar on "ok, this is how you prioritize and this is how you clear you paper work". No, not me. I went for the gut. Emotional time wasters. Worry, regret, procrastination, tardiness. Let's work with two of these: worry and regret. Now there are two time wasters. Why? While you're worrying about something that you can't control you could obviously be doing something that you can control. Regret? What the heck can you do about something in the past? But both of those comments are oversimplifications. There's worry and then there's WORRY, and there's regret and then there's REGRET. Somehow I'm been able to over come the small worries...the ones that take up too much of your time. Big worries...what will my test results be? Is he really having an affair? Did my son really kill that girl? Now those are worries. If I can't do something about something immediately, I put it on a shelf and deal with it at the time I CAN do something about it. Compartmentalizing I guess. Regrets. During the seminar I had everyone write down a regret that they really did regret. I told them I wouldn't read them. I did. NO I DIDN'T! After they wrote them down I had them fold them in half and then rip! Tear! Shred! We threw them in the trash because that is where they belong. Why? Because what can you do about it? It's in the past. Now I've come to learn that there are indeed two regrets...the one that when you're looking back you can say "what a stupid idiot I was" but I'm lucky I didn't get killed or catch a disease and will learn from it (in other words, you dope, you WERE lucky) to the oh, sh*t, this regret is truly coming to bite me in the rear. Kind of like Carrie Underwood's I Don't Even Know My Last Name. These regrets become reality. You can regret it all you want but you now own it. I remember back when I was a teenager I wrote some guy some stupid letter. 10 years later, 10 YEARS LATER, some guy who knew the other guy brings it up to me saying "I can't believe you wrote him that letter". I looked at the guy and said, " A, I can't believe you remember that, B, I don't know why you remember that and C, I was a f*cking teenager for goodness sake!" Oh he says.

As far as procrastination, I'm a great procrastinator. I work better under pressure. When in college, I used to get up at 3am and study for the next days exam. It just worked better for me. Maybe that's not procrastinating. In my current life, things aren't quiet so demanding. Although my husband sure thinks they are. A slight bone of contention, have we? Being late drives ME NUTS! I don't know why or how tardiness began to drive me insane but it does. I hate waiting on people. People who make people wait (which makes the people who are waiting waste their time) are usually, not always, but usually, attention seekers. Look it up. Even by the negatives they receive, they still garner the attention they seek.

Am I worried I will upset someone with my blog? No. Will I regret writing it? No. But I will worry about you, the reader, saying "what a friggin waste of time..."

Two Mann Booker Award Winners: Julian Barnes and Michael Ondaatje

2012-01-07T19:49:00.000-08:00

The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes

2011 Mann Booker Award Winner
160p

The Cat’s Table by Michael Ondaatje
256p
Winner of the Mann Booker Prize in 1992
For The English Patient

Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned The English Patient because you may go running from this review like Elaine did on Seinfeld when she went to see the movie with John Peterman. But please don’t. First let me explain why I’m doing two reviews at once. As you can see, both books are rather short. They both have a similar theme: Older men who are now looking back on their lives and contemplating if they’d made the right choices. They are both books about missed opportunities, imperfections of memory and reckless behavior. In The Sense of An Ending, Tony, a man now is his 60’s is forced to look back because it has raced forward to meet him. While in college, he meets and dates Veronica and one weekend he is invited to her parents’ home where he is made to feel very uncomfortable. He and Veronica’s relationship ends badly. She then begins dating Tony’s best friend, Adrian. Adrian soon commits suicide. Flash forward 40 years and he receives a letter from an attorney stating that Veronica’s mother had bequeathed him 500 pounds and Adrian’s diary. Why did she do that? He hasn’t a clue. He is then forced to relive those memories colored by age. Does he see his life as others have seen it? What did he do during that period when he dated Veronica that would bring on such a gift from a woman whom he hardly new? And now Veronica refuses to give him the diary. Veronica does give bits and pieces as if she is trying to torment him. They even meet a few times with Tony trying to get the diary from her. But these meetings are disastrous. The harder he tries to get the diary the more of his past he dredges up. And he begins to see how even immature angry outbursts can have consequences that transgress the years. He sees “that he avoids deep connections rather than embracing it, for fear of loss” and that “what we called realism turned out to be a way of avoiding things rather than facing them.” The ending will come as a big surprise.

The Cat’s Table seems to have a very simple story. It begins in 1954. A young boy of eleven is put on a boat named the Oronsay to sail from Ceylon to England. There he is to go to school and to live with is mother. The novel is about that voyage and the voyage of Mynah’s (Michael's) life. It is told from both the present and the past. When Mynah arrives on the ship, he finds that there are two other boys, the quiet, sickly Ramadhin and the tough, adventurous Cassius. They are all seated at the Cat’s Table, the furthest away from the Captain’s Table and the least desirable. But the cast of characters seated at that table could come from any Agatha Christie novel. Are they really who or what they say they are? Ondaatje weaves a brilliant tapestry of character for all of the passengers on the ship. The boys soon realize they are in a world of adults but also realize “they are invisible to officials” and become reckless and daring. One night during a severe storm, Cassius convinces Ramandhin to lash both he and Mynah to the deck. The boys almost drown and are severely admonished by the Captain. Their reckless behavior continues with Mynah allowing a male passenger to lather his body with motor oil so he can slip out of a port hole's bars and into other cabin's port holes to open the door for the thief. They also witness, well, I won’t give that part away. But looking back through the decades, Mynah, like Tony, wonders if he had made the right choices. Why did he keep one friend and not the other? He later finds that his shipmate, Cassius, has become a famous artist and that the voyage had a greater impact on him than he and Ramadhin. And he solves a decades old mystery.
Final word: Both are excellent reads.

Contain This! My Life In the Unorganized World

2012-01-03T20:43:00.000-08:00

Somewhere along the way, maybe it was my husband spelling it out for me, I discovered I did not have the "organization" gene. Not anal enough, I guess. I don't mind going hunting for a pair of flip flops that have hidden themselves under the bed. Or better yet for an excuse, looking for one the cat hid during hide and seek. In reference to the above where my husband spells out my lack of neatness, I graciously let him know about a few of his idiosyncrasies. But this isn't about his lack of patience or his abundance of macho, it's about me and what I've been trying to do to overcome my A: lack of neatness gene B: laziness C: don't give a rip attitude. I blame it on A. But then I look at my older sister who has an overload of the neatness/organization gene. As the old saying goes, was I behind the door when God handed it out? I will never be a Martha Stewart or a subscriber to Real Simple Magazine. In the last two houses in which we've lived, we had them both built and therefore, had added in plenty of storage space. But 6 years ago, we moved into an older home that had/has very little storage space. What to do? Well, remodel is one answer, which we extensively did. But coming up with creative solutions for certain objects has been my objective these last few years. When we first looked at the house we thought we might buy, I noticed there wasn't a pantry. Spoiled brat that I am, I needed a large pantry. The house had a mud room. Hmmm. A mud room. Look at what it is now:

The left side is narrow for canned goods and other food stuffs, while the right side is about a foot and a half deep and used more as a butler's pantry. Facing that step stool you see there is a wall but in back of it is a door that has been sealed from the inside but seen as a door from the outside.
I also like purses. Not so much a shoe person but a purse person. I know this idea has been done before but I'll claim it as my own because at the time, I hadn't realized it had been done before. Like most inventions. And that is using a coat stand to hang purses and keep hats from getting squished. I used to have this in the closet but our closet is small. Well, it used to be but one story at a time. I took off a bunch of purses I rarely used and put them in plastic, sealed containers. Speaking of which...I am in love and always have been with The Container Store. Yes, I know. For the lacking in organization gene, it's sort of like an oxymoron to even walk in the place. But, they give me such great ideas...but do I follow through? Yes. Because they're not cheap. Anyway, here is a picture of my purse/hat stand:

So, on to the closet. Like with every good realtor, they tell the seller to declutter their closet. But we of walk in closets know closet space. This house had a small, for the south anyway, a small walk in. Some friends of ours had decided to forgo hiring a closet planner and had done closets to go on the Internet or something like that. My husband, who was raised in an apartment building in NYC that had a super, decided that, hey, I can do this. The positive of the experiment was that the ceilings were 10 feet so that we could get in three levels of clothing racks. The negative, the online planner forgot to take into account the huge crown molding southern houses have (even though we included the dimensions). But after much cursing, blackened finger nails and sore hands, we now have a suitable, albeit, stand on a foot stool to get to the third layer closet. But I still needed more room! I was, yes, I was stuffing stuff under the space beneath my clothes. I have three long haired cats. Get the picture. Even for me this had to end. So, I took the purse rack out of the closet. I wanted to go to Ballards Outlet to see if they had something I could use (hey, they have great stuff for the fixer up-per). But my hubby said, Go to Home Depot. So I did. And what did I buy? Storage units by...Martha Stewart. See below:

It has always been an irritant to me for a builder to put the closet in a place where there needs to be windows (to match the outer decor). So, here I have my Martha Stewart cubby holes and little linen "like" drawers. On the left side, from The Container Store, I bought one of those Velcro hooks and they had, get this, a do-dah to hang your flip flops. Too cool. I also bought two tie racks to hang my scarves and on the right two Velcro hooks for large bags and hangers. Voila! More room!

Our entry way from our garage to our kitchen was very small. The previous owners had used one whole side of the kitchen area for a desk and computer. I don't think so. We turned that into another clean up area with a third dishwasher and sink and disposal unit. So? What to do with keys, glasses, etc? After buying an antique plate rack at Scott's Antique Market (the largest in the southeast, in case you're interested), I contemplated (no I won't go there) what the heck to do with it. The I said, aha! This is what I did:

Keys, glasses (from 1 to 2.00 strength), sunglasses, community address book and to do lists (used by my husband).

And here are a few extras thrown in. Having started traveling the world in 1978, way before the Euro, I've collected all sorts of currency. I've given some to my nieces and nephews and to some kids I used to teach. But I did this one cold, snowy day. Again, I'm no Martha but not too bad:

Most, now, defunct currency. The majority that are still in circulation, I've kept in the hopes I'd go back there!

Another reason we bought our current house was because there was a bonus room over the garage. The previous owners used it as a play room for their grand kids. I turned it into a library. I did see this somewhere so forgive me for stealing. Take book covers from your favorite books and frame them for your library:

See what a perfectionist I am? They're crooked! I should have used those new Velcro things....

Lists of the Best Books for 2011: A Compendium

2011-12-26T15:17:00.000-08:00

I regularly get emails from numerous book purveyors from Amazon.com to iBookstore to Sam's Book Club. Of course at this time of year, the "best of" lists appear. I always view these lists with a jaundiced eye. (I'll bet you haven't heard that phrase used in a while.) Why, you might query. It's not that difficult to understand. Just take a look at Amazon's editors picks for 2011 and then reader favorites. Only three overlap: Bossypants by Tina Fey, Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson and Erik Larson's In the Garden of Beasts. On this page they have "best ofs" by genres. So, if you're interested: http://www.amazon.com/best-books-2011/b/ref=amb_link_358691402_3?ie=UTF8&node=3321372011&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=hero-quick-promo&pf_rd_r=0B8MGQK67DRA298AHTNV&pf_rd_t=201&pf_rd_p=1331919922&pf_rd_i=0307700119

iBookstore also sends out a list that can be accessed thru iTunes. The books that appear on both Amazon's lists and iBookstore are: The Tiger's Wife by Tea Obreht (I read it and didn't think it was that spectacular. The part about the tiger's wife is very intriguing but the rest of the story, which is 75%, is so so), The Prague Cemetery by Umberto Eco (which has been criticized for being anti-Semitic) and The Paris Wife (life in Paris with the first Mrs. Hemingway and Ernest).

In the Saturday, Dec 17 issue of the WSJ, they have a whole section on books read or being read by various authors, celebs, financiers, sports figures and politicians. They're not necessarily books from 2011. It's a lengthy article but worth the time (if you have it, that is): http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970204466004577102800650505034.html

And just so your eyes will cross, here's the link to Bookreporter.com's "best of " lists): http://www.bookreporter.com/bookreportercom-reviewers-pick-their-favorite-books-of-2011

As for me, I've read some really, really great books and some stinkers. I went thru my Kindle archived books to see which of the books I've read made it onto the "best of" lists. It looks like I've read 10 that were on somebodies list, somewhere. (DNL denotes "did not like", DL, you smart people out there, just the opposite): The Night Circus DNL, The Budda in the Attic DL, The Tiger's Wife DNLDL, State of Wonder DNL, The Art of Fielding (just not my kind of book), Lost in Shangri-La DL, Blood, Bones, Butter DL, The Sense of an Ending DL, Before I go to Sleep DL.

There were some big names out there with new books: Michael Connelly, Alice Hoffman, Michael Crichton (finished by Richard Preston), David Baldacci, John Grisham, Lee Cild, Ann Patchett, Lisa See and Erik Larson. Some were hits like The Drop by Connelly and others duds like Baldacci's.

I just finished The Dovekeepers and loved it. I told my daughter that I can't read another book for a week or so because I don't want to give up the characters Hoffman created. Those kinds of books are priceless...

A Girl Who Loves to Read (Non-fiction by your blogger)

2011-12-01T11:06:00.000-08:00

It's a small town in south Texas. Population 900, three churches, one Lutheran, one Catholic and one Baptist. The elementary school is one long rectangular building with classrooms on each side of a long corridor. In the first grade there are a total of 30 kids. In the second grade a total of 25. And as you go up to higher grades, the numbers are always the same, 25-30. The business district of the town is primarily one long street with a pharmacy, shoe repair, meat market, bank, general store and several "pool" halls where residents of the town smoke cigarettes, cigars, down beer but above all play dominoes and pool. No traffic lights, a police chief, one deputy. There are two dance halls, one a VFW hall, one an American Legion hall and at both you can hear country and western and ompah music play into the night. No movie theatre (there used to be one where the girl and her older sister went to see "Tom Dooley" and "The Mummy" and other great monster movies but it closed). No bowling alley, no pizza palace, no Chinese restaurant. There was just a great diner and one "joint" that made the best, the very best chili where the grease floated to the top and you dunked your homemade bread into it and it was pure heaven. Then, if there was any chili left over for the next day that morphed into the best, the very best enchiladas you'd ever tasted. In this town was the grandest of homes. The little girl didn't live in this house but her grandma did. And her grandma lived right next door to her parents’ home. Her grandma was all soft and cuddly and full of stories and tall tales. Her grandma was the best cook ever. Chicken fried steak with milk gravy, pot roast with mashed potatoes, fried chicken, peach pie, apple pie, dewberry pie, banana pudding, rice pudding (and that was the girl's favorite, with red hots in it!) The house her grandma lived in was a three story house with a two story veranda that seemed to wrap its arms three quarters of the way around the house. The main floor had your basic kitchen, living room, bedroom, parlor, bathrooms. It was the second floor that brought magic to the girl. Her grandma had not changed the decor since before her children grew up and moved away. It was a second floor stuck in the 1930's and 40's. The girl's grandma never threw anything away and so there were dresses and hats and shoes and hose and ties and handkerchiefs and suits. There was a huge box filled with Life magazines from The War years. Smoke a Lucky Strike and you'll be glamorous. Ration so our troops will have the ammunition, tires, planes they need to shoot down the enemy. Another world to the girl. Up here, her grandma also had her small library. The girl's grandma had not finished the 3rd grade, but she had taught herself to read. So, during those hot, simmering summer days when it could easily reach 100 degrees, the girl would go up to her grandma's second floor and disappear. Disappear into those magazines and those few books. What else was there to do? Bike around a town you’ve biked around a million times? Go play in the hay bales you've played in a million times? No. For the girl she wanted a book that would let her imagine a life she thought she couldn't possibly live. Her grandma had an odd collection of books: Zane Grey, Frank Yerby and Reader's Digest Condensed books. And Gone with the Wind. The girl would go up to the magical second floor and stay from morning until the sunset. Lying on her back in a big, old bed covered in yellowing lace with a fan blowing and at times, watching dust float in the air as it passed through the sunlight streaming through the open window. This was her world and she loved it. Her world shifted from the dry arid plains of the west where the men were tough and women knew how to shoot and ride as good as any man but still had a heart of gold. And she dreamed of Rhett Butler. Then she was off to the Caribbean to where the strong, handsome stranger saves the life of a beautiful damsel in distress and as time passes, they eventually fall in love and make wild passionate love. Now these were the parts the girl liked best. And the girl will admit, she read those parts of the books over and over again. But one day the girl's mother came in unannounced and saw what the girl was reading and she was furious. She blamed the girl's grandma for letting her read those books. But, you see, the girl had lied to her grandma and told her she would not read them. So, now she was in double trouble and the girl was no longer allowed to read at her grandmas. With a lie, her special world crumbled. But her love of reading never went away. As soon as she could, she went to a big college in a big city and started to live a life she never thought she could. The girl is now a woman and has surrounded herself with books. Her husband says that a book store to her is like what honey is to a bee. The girl now owns first editions of the Frank Yerby books and she has a complete collection of those Zane Grey novels. Books still take the woman to places where she has never been, to places beyond the realm of possibility, to the past, to the present and to the future.

“A room without books is like a body without a soul.” Cicero 106BC-43BC

Book Review: The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

2011-11-13T13:07:00.000-08:00

The first printing of Erin Morgenstern’s debut novel was 150,000 copies, virtually unheard of for a first time novel. The rights have been sold in 30 countries and the movie rights have already been sold. Why the hype? The publishers believe they might have the next Harry Potter or Twilight series on their hands. Let’s see if I agree…

Let me break the novel in to two parts, the plot and characters and the writing itself. What’s the reason for doing so? There is a huge disconnect between the two. Let’s start with the plot and characters. The novel takes place in the late 1800s. Two magicians/illusionists, Mr. A.H., the man in the grey suit and his antagonist, Prospero the Enchanter aka Hector Bowen, have been playing, for many years, a rather insidious game of pitting one of their own “magic” students against the other to see who can “win” a game. But the question throughout is, what kind of game is it? What do they win when the game is complete? But more importantly, what happens if they loose? The Night Circus is the brainchild of a theatrical producer named Lefevre who is cajoled into creating The Night Circus, or Cirque des Reves (Circus of Dreams) for the specific use of the two adversaries. The adversaries are Marco an orphan selected by Mr. A.H. and Celia, Prospero’s own daughter. Mr. A.H. locks Marco in a room for long periods of time having him read old texts and studying while Prospero cuts his daughter’s fingertips with a knife to teach her to heal herself. They are both trained in telekinetic and psychic powers. The two, in different ways, become attached to the circus. Celia becomes an illusionist and Marco becomes the assistant to Mr. Lefevre. But they are more than mere assistant and illusionist. They are creating a world within the circus where in they use their unique talents to enchant, mesmerize and seduce their paying customers. What makes The Night Circus so appealing and mysterious is that it just appears. And then at dawn…it’s gone. Others characters involved in the circus are a contortionist, Tsukiko, who holds a very dark secret, Herr Friedrick Thiessen, who creates a magical clock for the circus and is head of the circus fan club and the red haired twins of Poppet and Widget. As far as Marco and Celia, well, as expected they soon find out that they are competitors in this game and, well, fall in love. Do they find the end game? Yes they do and it’s the death of the looser. What to do? That’s the plot. What about characterization? Well, that’s about as much depth as the author gives each character. For some reason Morgenstern decides to add a character “outside” the circus. A boy named Bailey who is looking for some connection to something. And that something becomes the circus and Poppet. Morgenstern manipulates the story to make Bailey an important figure but in some ways rather than enhancing he breaks the story up.

What Morgenstern does so well is make the circus come alive in your imagination. The circus and all its players are dressed or coordinated in black and white. Even the pathways are black and white. Here is what you’ll experience at Cirque des Reves: In one tent, you see Tsukiko fold herself into a glass box, in another tent, you see nothing but ice which has a garden that blossoms flowers of ice, yet in another you can open tiny bottles that are filled with scents that will bring back favorite personal memories. Celia’s illusions aren’t really illusions. She can really turn a piece of cloth into a bird and while performing, her dress changes hues of black, white, and grey. The labyrinth: “You walk down a hall ...that leads to a spiral staircase…the stairs go both up and down. You go up, finding a trapdoor in the ceiling. The room it opens to is full of feathers that flutter downward…they fall like snow over the door in the floor, obscuring it from sight. There are six identical doors. You choose one at random…and find yourself in a forest full of evergreen trees…there is the sound of a woman laughing nearby, or perhaps it is only the rustling of the trees as you push your way forward…searching for the next door…you feel the warmth of breath on your neck, but when you turn there is no one there.”

My opinion…Morgenstern spends too much time on the essence of the circus and not enough time on giving her characters “life”. As the reviewer from the NYT’s (Stacey D'Arasmo) said: “One wishes Morgenstern had spent more time on the hauntingly unanswerable question that runs, more or less ignored, through these pages: Can children love who were never loved, only used as intellectual machines? What kind of magic reverses that spell?...”

It may make a beautiful movie but for me, the final word is: I wasn’t enchanted.

Martha, What's That Noise and Final Thoughts on Africa

2011-11-05T18:44:00.000-07:00

We caught a British Airways flight from Joberg to Livingstone, Zambia and then a light 6 seater plane to Chongwe Lodge located at the convergence of the Chongwe and Zambezi Rivers. We had one of two expanded "suites", meaning we had a large 8 sided tent that was flanked by an outside dining room/bar area and an outside bathroom. We even had, oh, the decadence of it all, a butler! We quickly learned that since we were there during the dry season (the time you really want to go to Africa) that there were numerous hippo pods on the sand banks in the river. We had our own personal pod right in front of our accommodations and when they made noise, particularly at night, it felt as if they were in bed with you. There isn't any noise only the hippos and lions...Chongwe was a relief from the touristy Etosha National Park. Here, the animals have claim over everything. Nothing is fenced. So, it is not uncommon for hippos or lions or whatever to come sauntering through the camp. In addition to doing the game drives, we were also able to do water safaris using either motorboats or canoes. We opted out of the canoe adventures because of the numerous hippos in the river. Remember, hippos kill more people in Africa than any other animal (other than homosapiens). I've posted some videos on YouTube about our Chongwe adventure. Here are the links:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VrvyOUGDPLQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ts_HGurUOlE&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kl3tOyXDw9M

As far as "Martha, what's that noise"? Our accommodations were a mere 40 or so feet from the rivers. We had a plunge pool between our tent and the river. About 3am, Martha (me), wakes to all kinds of rustling and tearing and heavy footsteps. I look outside of our tent and low and behold, there were two huge bull elephants eating the shrubbery around our tent. One darn near went into the bathroom. I woke my hubby and we debated whether to turn on the lights, which really would have obliterated any view of the elephants. So, we listened for 20 minutes or so and then I hear it: plop plop plop and then I smell it. It made for a really enjoyable last breakfast at Chongwe. We caught our Caravan flight to Lusaka (the capital of Zambia) and then on to Joberg and the 16 hour flight back on Delta to Atlanta.

Will I go back to Africa? In a heart beat. I began my journeys in 1982 going to Kenya and Tanzania, then to Zimbabwe, Botswana, and South Africa and now to Namibia and Zambia. One of the real joys (and as I said before real negatives) can be the people you meet. Many of our fellow safari travelers had been to Africa many many times. One couple had been 13 times. As for me, I can see getting deeper and into the more "wild" part of the bush. Many of the guests had been to camps on the Upper Zambezi in Zambia and some to Southern Tanzania and talked about the multitude of different animals.

One of the things I learned on this trip that surprised me but really shouldn't have is that in Namibia and Zambia 42-48% of the population is UNDER 17 and only 2-3% OVER age 65. My generation, the baby boom generation, in Africa, was obliterated by AIDS. It is similar with other Sub-Saharan countries. Both of these countries are stable and safe for travel.

Other thoughts: The CDC recommends all kinds of vaccinations and inoculations and updates on this and that. There is some political stuff going on with some of these countries and now it is required to have yellow fever vaccinations. The CDC also recommends Hep A and Hep B inoculations. And, of course, malarone or any other anti malarial pill is needed. You need to look at all of this advice and do what you think you need to do. The people at the travel clinic sounded like a commercial for some drug on all the bad side effects this can have and that can have. 1-2% have complete organ failure!

Really listen to the advice about baggage weight limits and soft sided bags. At least three couples had to use airline duffel bags to repack their stuff and leave their roller bags or hard luggage at the airport.

I really believe you need to take a nasal rinse to clean out your sinuses and nose after going on a long trip like this one. Every time I get off of a long flight, I flush out my sinuses. Here, it is very useful to clear them out after a very dusty ride on a "souped' up Land Rover. Particularly after the Belgium Lady insisted the guide drive faster in Etosha. Sorry to be gross, but was that almost mud coming out of my nose?

Probiotics. I took one every day and never had an issue with my stomach. My husband didn't take any and did. I'm just saying you're eating food you're not used to i.e. springbock, kudo, oryx etc. Some of the food can be very spicy. And, of course, you've at least had your Hep A...

Plenty and plenty of hand wipes. To be used for all kinds of things and along with those, a handy plastic bag in case you have "to go" behind the termite mound. You don't want to leave any remnants around.

Your tour company or wholesaler will give you a list also but these are some of mine that I think are important. OH OH OH. Two camera batteries! One of the Belgium ladies had just bought a new digital camera and the lady who sold it to her told her the battery would last for months. But the Belgium Lady didn't realize that deleting pics eats up battery. And her battery....died....she saw I also had a Canon and asked if my charger would help her. (This was after she hit me on the back of the head). I tried but my battery pack was bigger.

And last but not least, Africa is not for the feint of heart. There may be better advisers than me on the subject but I wouldn't take a child under 12 on a safari. We had two hippos get in a fight a little further up the Zambezi from us and one ended up laying on the river bank dying, for all to see. One family, a husband and wife from Kent UK and their 15 year old son, saw a water buffalo downed by a pride of lions and the screams of the buffalo, the mother said, were heart rendering. So, beware of the brutality of nature...

First Sand, Then Rock, Now the "Bush"...Namibia and Zambia Part Two

2011-11-01T15:40:00.000-07:00

We once again head to the gravel runway to catch our Caravan plane to head to Etosha National Park. By the way, depending on the airline you're using or the country in which you're flying, there are strict rules on the weight of luggage and they must be soft sided, like duffel bags. When we did the Botswana and Zimbabwe trip, we were limited to 25 pounds each and that included all carry ons and camera gear. This time we had a little better weight limit of 44 pounds each. The beauty of the lodges is that they have their own laundry services. Leave your stuff out in the morning and by evening it is freshly washed and ironed. You do not take nice stuff with you to wear. Khakis and tee shirts, sweat shirts, socks and undies. We took one week's worth of clothing and then had things cleaned at the next lodge. Curiously, in Zambia the cleaning women would not clean women's underwear. I think I finally figured out why. OK. Back to Namibia and Etosha. Etosha is located in the northern part of Namibia and covers approximately 14,000 miles. We stayed at a great lodge, Ongava, which is located in a private game reserve. They have three sets of accommodations: Little Ongava with a butler, private Land Rover and private guide (only three suites), Ongava Lodge (where we stayed) and Tented Ongava. There was a watering hole right in front of the lodge and while eating, you could look out and watch oryx, kudo, giraffe, gazelle drinking. We didn't see this but one visitor said that the night before we got there (you hate stories like this because you MISSED IT!) a lioness came to drink with her two cubs. Now Ongava might not be the kind of place purists like. It's a fenced game reserve. So, one way or another, you're going to see game. On our first night's game run, we immediately saw male kudo, giraffe, waterbuck, red hartebeest and one young male lion. Also on our first night we met our "game" drive companions. Here's the spot where I wish I could put in music of impending doom but... enter stage right, the Belgium ladies and Gunther and Hanalore, the German couple. They are all older than my husband and I and so since getting in the back of the Land Rover is elevated and harder to get into, so we look at each other and say, "we'll take the back seats". No, no, no, no! We are promptly told by the BLs that they have dibs on the back seat. Ok then. As we begin the drive, I see an elephant and say, "Oh, there's an elephant!" and I get a smack on the back of my head with an "auff, you speak too loudly"! I was too stunned to respond. All I said was, "sorry". Then, we see something else and the other BL would say, "Auff! It is too far for a picture. Drive!" This was going to be loads of fun, right? The next day, Gunther is about 15 minutes late because he was buying something in the store. One of the BLs tells him he's late. Well, I made the mistake of opening my mouth and started to tell them the Vince Lombardy rule of time. If the meeting is at 9am and you're not there by 8:50, you're late. Gunther looks at me and says rather vociferously, "Auff, we care NOTHING about AMERICAN FOOTBALL!" I guess he didn't get my point. Off we go for another pleasant day looking for animals. I spy a secretary bird (insert joke here). I've seen them in Kenya but my husband has never seen one. I ask the driver to stop and the BL says (repeat from above). I slowly turn around and say to her, "The bird is not too far away, my husband has never seen a secretary bird, has no idea what one is, and we're going to take a minute so we can get an explanation." She didn't say a word. We then proceed and see a big bull elephant about 50 yards from us getting ready to walk in front of us. I turn around and look at her and I say, (repeat what she has previously said). She looks at me and says, "I said nothing!" We stop for our sun downer and they, the BLs and the Germans, proceed to tell us how stupid Americans are for not taking 6 week vacations.

Etosha is a national park known for its watering holes. They are dotted around the park. Now, again, a purist would say this is horse hockey. I must admit that it did have the aura of a drive through a game park. The animals are so used to seeing hordes of people that they simply ignore you. Also, Etosha lets in tour buses. When we first saw a pride of lion almost immediately it was surrounded and a traffic jam ensued. We thought, oh boy, if this is the way it's going to be, we're not going to be happy. But our guide soon got us away from the crowds and we saw plenty of game up close and personal. The last night of our stay was the highlight at Ongava. We went on a nature hike with our guide and then we had our sun downer in a "blind" or "hide" right by the water hole in front of the lodge. We waited for 2 hours for a white mother rhino and her baby. Just when we're about to give up, here they come. We were about 30 feet from them.

Ongava and Etosha are both known for their white and black rhinos and we were fortunate to have seen both. Our flight the next day, via another Caravan leaves at 10:40 and we fly to Windhoek to connect to Joberg for an overnight and then on to Zambia. I see the BLs before we leave and they wish us a pleasant trip and the "Auff, it is too far lady" winks at me and says she and her friend have the guide all too themselves that day and she is going to tell him EXACTLY what to do. I say goodbye to our guide and wish him luck with the two "lovely" ladies. He just rolls his eyes. Next up...Zambia!

Our "blind" or "hide" for our sun downer and rhinos

Are There More Stars in the Universe than Sand on Earth?

2011-10-31T20:03:00.000-07:00

This is the kind of question that physicists like to answer when they're drunk. I can't take claim for that. I read it on Ask Google. But the question in the title is one my husband kept asking the entire time we were in the Namibia. Because Namibia is one interesting country of wild topography and lots and lots and lots of sand. If a would be first time visitor to Africa were looking for a safari for their first trip, Namibia would not be on the top of their list(unless you're a geologist). Most people pick Kenya, South Africa, Tanzania, Botswana. Well, this would be my third trip to sub-Saharan Africa and I had always heard about the haunting beauty of the Namib desert and the Skeleton Coast. So, with extra visa pages, yellow fever shots, malarone and lots of $20 and smaller denomination bills, off my husband and I go for 7 nights in Namibia and 3 nights in Zambia....with lots of layovers and 14 flights...some trip but well worth it. We started our adventure in Windhoek, the capital of Namibia. We stayed in a little boutique hotel (The Vertigo) and the owner took me on a short tour of the town. What I noticed right off was the Fidel Castro Avenue and Robert Mugabe Street. Alrighty then. We then flew to our first camp in a 12 passenger Caravan plane (most of our flights were in similar planes except when we got to Zambia) and our stop was Little Kulala (meaning "rest" in Swahili). The camp is about 45 minutes away from

the Namib sand dunes of lore. I kept hearing about the legendary "Big Daddy". The sand dune that is 40 stories tall. See above picture. When you go on trips like this and you are a lone couple, the Land Rovers always seat 6, so you are inevitably joined by other travelers. Some fun and some NOT SO FUN. I'm going to state right here that I am 1/4 German and I am going to state right here that most Germany Germans, not all Germans, but most Germans, ARE NOT FUN. There I've said it. Our first Land Rover buddies? Martin and Bea from Heidelberg. But the good humor and camaraderie exhibited by my husband and I soon had this reticent couple chattering away. She was in excellent physical condition (now don't start thinking of Brunhilda. Bea was a very attractive lady). And once we got to Big Daddy, she marched right up the trail and off she went. Let me say, I marched 1 foot and then marched 2 back. That sand was SO SOFT and you're walking UPHILL 40! friggin'! stories! It took her about an hour and a half to go halfway and that was it. She and our guide, Willem, then ran down in 3 minutes. You can see them as little specs in the pic above. I did not conquer Big Daddy or Big Mama or Big anything. I will say that my husband probably could have made it to the top but he was a loving husband and stayed with me. By the way, the joke about this part of Namibia, which is called Sossusvlei, is that the "big three" game you'll see is Springbock, Ostrich and Oryx. No lion, cheetah, elephant, maybe the occasional leopard.

One of the things they do at Little Kulala is offer you the opportunity to sleep on the roof. An African starlight night can be as if you are touching the stars. I'm game. Who cares about black mambas and scorpions? I was raised on a ranch in south Texas. So, for two nights I slept under the stars...sounds great, right? Wrong. There was a full moon. It was like a spot light. The beauty though was that the days were hot and the nights, cold. So I snuggled under the comforter and around 3, woke up, the moon was waning, and then I saw the beautiful starlit night. Awesome. Where was my husband? This time it was "no way, you're on your own". Now, I have to be honest, the first evening he did come on the roof at around 3AM because he was worried about me but soon left. That was enough for him.

We catch our next flight to cruise over the Skeleton Coast so named because of the number of ship wrecks that have littered the coast over the years. You can still see the wreck of the Eduard Bolin that has been there since 1909. The scenery is like a Rorschach Test. The red dunes are now being covered by the sand from the ocean. I looked at my ceramic tile in my bathroom at home and said, hmm, this looks like the Skeleton Coast. I'm not going to talk about what we were "supposed" to get as our next excursion because I'm still in negotiations with the wholesaler on what they neglected to provide. So, on to Damaraland land of the...rock. Rock, rock, rock, rock. It is another aspect of Namibia that makes the place so alien looking. We stayed at a camp called Damaraland Camp and of the four camps we stayed at, on a scale of 1-5. A 1. Yes, a 1. First of all, the camp was not in the best location. Sundowners are big in Africa and because of the landscape in Damaraland Camp, you see the remnants of sundowns. Let me explain the "sundowner" to the uninitiated. Your wildlife specialist, i.e. botanist, geologist, zoologist, primatologist stops at a beautiful savanna doted with kudo or gazelle or a mountain top over looking said savanna or a watering hole full of cavorting (but dangerous) hippos. He then sets up a lovely table with nibbles and mixes your drinks that have been pre-selected by you. And then you have the magnificent African sundown. Not in Damaraland Camp. One evening, out of 6 of us, one other guy and I and the guide did the "sundowner". It was a downer. The other thing we disliked about the camp is that it is a long way to see anything other than rocks. One morning our guide got us up at 5AM (yes, dear friends, I was up at 5AM) and promised us a sunrise and then breakfast in Rhino Valley. On the way to said Rhino Valley (2 hours later), we stop in the middle of a public road and watch the sun come up. Not the best of environments. Then another hour to said Rhino Valley where we did see herds, far off, of zebra, kudo and springbock. No Rhino, however. But we did get said breakfast in Rhino Valley and then another 3 hours back. I had a chat with the guide about this overly long, worthless, trip. BUT, to his credit, he did find us desert elephants, which are very rare. That was an 11 hour "game" drive. As far as the lodge itself...Look, I'm as game (yuck) as the next person to try and help the environment but this lodge made me feel like I was in California (just kidding CA friends). 12 volt lights. Have you ever really thought about all of the electrical gadgets you carry around with you? We had two Kindles, one Blackberry, one IPod and a small hair dryer. The lodge did not provide ANY outlets in your room for charging your electronics. Shame! You had to go to the manager's office to charge your things. The inconvenience! The manager's office had every convenience you needed. Why not the rooms?

Next up, Estosha National Park and the ladies from Belgium. "Auff, they are too far. You can not take a picture" and a slap on the back of the head.

How to Find a Good Book to Read

2011-09-27T18:58:00.000-07:00

Generic I know. But I have had many people come up to me regarding my book reviews and ask me, “How do you select your books?” I also have people come up to me to “review” my review or say that the book that was reviewed “wouldn’t interest me at all” or “I send all of your book reviews to my sister. She loves them!” I appreciate all of your comments. I do take them in to consideration. But, back to how do I select the books I want to read. Well, I know my tastes but that happens to be splattered among the genres. About the only books I don’t like are fantasy, science fiction, and heavy historically detailed tomes. Usually I begin with getting emails from numerous web sites. I know. Will I get hacked etc.? Well, the ones I use are well documented sites. I use primarily four different types of sites. One is from book sellers, the other from book reviewers, the third from “collection sites” and the fourth from the authors/publishing houses. For example, I get two emails from Amazon.com. I now have two Kindles (one for me and one for my hubby). I got tired of lugging books all over Timbuktu. So, you can tell Amazon to send you emails only for certain genres. For me, it’s murder/ mystery, award winners, and what’s new on Kindle. You can do the same for Barnes and Nobles and many other book sellers.

The book reviewers: There’s www.bookreporter.com. You can get book reviews, feature articles, and author interviews. I signed up for their weekly updates on what’s new for sale for that week. For simply reviews, well, there are enormous resources (including this book reviewer and my blog). Some that I use: For the mass market, I get monthly emails from USA Today on what’s new in books and what’s on the best seller list. There’s always the old standby of the New York Times book reviews. I can give my opinion as well as they can give theirs, right? I used to read their book reviews but where as the USA Today book reviews are for the masses, the NYT reviews are for the glittering literati, the View from the Good Squad and Freedom points in fact. Two books I disliked but won rave reviews from the NYT. I tend to prefer the Saturday edition of the Wall Street Journal. It not only has book reviews but movies, contemporary fashion, trends, real estate etc. Their book selections are a broad range. And they do a selection based on genre called “Five Best”, the five best romance novels, the five best war novels, spy novels, nonfiction based on authors’ personal lives etc. There is also www.bookmarksmagazine.com. They have a quarterly magazine you can buy at Barnes and Nobles. But they have a site that gives terrific book reviews based on genre. www.wordandfilm is a fun site. It marries movie treatments made from books so you can see what book is being made into a movie. Another I use a great deal is www.readinggroupguides.com. They just posted a list of the best top ten books from the last ten years for book clubs. Either go to their site or go to my blog http://satisfyingmycuriousity.blogspot.com for the list. You can find reading guides for 1000’s of books that your book club may want to discuss.

Then there are the “collection” sites. These basically ask you to post your books into a library or go to their site to select books you’ve read and then rate them and then they come back with recommendations for you to read based on your “taste” in books. www.librarything.com and www.goodreads.com both do this. Library Thing asks you to input all of your books in your library using the ISBN number on the back of the book. If you’ve got the time…It was so cold last winter, I did it. 2050 books I had. So, I joined www.paperbackswap.com to swap books online. You post a book, someone wants it, you send it to them at your expense, and then you get a credit for a future book. I have over 200 credits (and I have two Kindles…). You can give the credits to other family members, friends, they have programs for the military etc. It is a great site.

And last but not least author and publisher websites. I subscribe to several but the one I like the best is Nelson Demille’s (Gold Coast, The Lion’s Gate, Plum Island etc). If you have not read any Nelson Demille, you’re missing out on some great fun, mystery and action. His emails are hysterical.

And I must not forget my book club. We are a very diverse group. We’ve been together 7-8 years. Members come and go but we still have a core membership of about 10. Most of them live in mid-town so we meet once a month on a Friday at the Ritz Carlton (la de da) in the, get this, their library (read bar). They know us so well they give us a special table and they get great tips. We meet twice a year with our spouses in attendance and, yes, we make them read a book, although it does tend to be an anthology. Sometimes these gatherings get rather raucous. At the end of the year, we send in book selections for all of us to vote on and then once the list is approved, leaders for the discussions volunteer.

So, from the simple question of how I select books…there you have it…

10 Best Books for Book Clubs

2011-09-14T15:57:00.000-07:00

I subscribe to an email alert from Readinggroupguides.com. They had a contest for all of their email readers as to what were the top 10 best books for book clubs over the last 10 years. Here's the list they came up with and I am proud to say that my book group, Bibliochix, has read 9 of the 10. We weren't into the Eat, Pray, Love stuff.

Overall Top 10 (By votes)

1.The Help by Kathryn Stockett: A spirited debut that explores the Civil Rights movement through the relationships between a young white woman and two black maids. http://www.readinggroupguides.com/guides_h/the_help1.asp

2.Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen: An elderly man reflects on his younger years as the veterinarian for a travelling circus during the Great Depression, and the many relationships he formed with man and beast alike. http://www.readinggroupguides.com/guides3/water_for_elephants1.asp

3.The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini: An epic tale of fathers and sons, of friendship and betrayal, that takes us from Afghanistan in the final days of the monarchy to the atrocities of the present. http://www.readinggroupguides.com/guides3/kite_runner1.asp

4.The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls: Walls recounts her harrowing, nomadic childhood as the daughter of eccentric parents struggling with substance abuse and often flouting the law. http://www.readinggroupguides.com/guides3/glass_castle1.asp

5.Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert: Gilbert chronicles the end of her marriage and her year abroad in search of happiness, perspective, spirituality and love across Italy, India and Indonesia. http://www.readinggroupguides.com/guides3/eat_pray_love1.asp

6.The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows: A novel told in letters between an author and a resident of the small, British island of Guernsey detailing the German occupation of the island, and its aftermath. http://www.readinggroupguides.com/guides_g/guernsey_literary_pie_society1.asp

7.The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd: A teenager embarks on a quest to learn more about the mother she hardly knew, navigating the tumultuous racial landscape of the South during the 1960s. http://www.readinggroupguides.com/guides3/secret_life_of_bees1.asp

8.Sarah’s Key by Tatiana de Rosnay: A compelling portrait of France under occupation during World War II, revealing the taboos and silence that surround this painful episode even in today’s society. http://www.readinggroupguides.com/guides_s/sarahs_key1.asp

9.Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See: Two women form a lifelong friendship that is thrust into peril against 19th-century China’s rigid caste system and treatment of women. http://www.readinggroupguides.com/guides3/snow_flower1.asp

10.The Red Tent by Anita Diamant: A rich interpretation of the little-known Bible story of Dinah, daughter of Jacob and Leah, and the life of ancient womanhood. http://www.readinggroupguides.com/guides_R/red_tent1.asp

Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann

2011-09-12T17:33:00.000-07:00

I was just in New York City during the 10th anniversary of 9/11. For the remembrance of the day, two huge light columns blazed into the night sky to replicate the twin towers. In Let the Great World Spin, the twin towers are in their infancy. They are looked upon by the critics as "the largest aluminum siding job in the history of the world." That is until the French acrobat, Philippe Petit, strung 210 feet of braided cable from tower to tower 110 stories up. Then he walked across. As McCann tells us, Petit, "was pureness moving..He was inside and outside his body at the same time, indulging in what it meant to belong to the air." (In an eerie "premonition", while Petit is walking between the towers, someone from below takes a picture of a jetliner crossing in back of him which looks as if the plane is flying into the tower.) The tight rope walk of Petit is the fulcrum of this novel. It is, in a way, a novel of six degrees of separation. It really reminds me of the movie Crash. It is a novel that brings back unpleasant memories for NYC and the times...the raging debate over the Vietnam war, the resignation of Nixon, the decaying of a great city ridden with crime and trash, and the burgeoning of drug use. The story begins with the brothers Corrigan, fresh from Ireland. Corrie belongs to a religious order and lives among the detritus of the projects to minister to the prostitutes and the homeless. His brother, Ciaran, is aimless and tends bar. Then we have Claire and Gloria. Claire, a wealthy, white 5th avenuer whose husband is a judge. Gloria, a well educated twice divorced black woman who has made some bad choices and ends up in the projects. What brings them together is love , loss and then grief. The love of their son/3 sons and the loss of and the giref for their son/3 sons in the Vietnam war. We then meet Tillie Henderson alias Miss Bliss alias Puzzle alias Rosa P. alias Sweetcakes, a prostitute who works under the Major Deegan Expressway and who swears she will NEVER EVER let her daughter, Jazzlyn, walk the walk. But she does and tragically. Blaine and Lara. The self indulgent, drug and sex addled "artists" that push a chain of "dominoes" ...which begets great personal suffering. On the day that Philippe Petit walks his tightrope, like the citizens of NYC metaphorically do everyday, the stories of Corrie, Ciaran, Claire, Gloria, Tillie, Jazzlyn, Blaine and Lara collide.

The writing is literary but doesn't beat you over the head with cleverness or elitism. Claire's husband, on the day that he sentences both Tillie and Petit, he says about the job of processing criminals, " he watched the parade come in and out and he wondered how the city had become such a disgusting thing on his watch...It was like surveying the evolution of slime. You stand there long enough and the gutter gets slick, no matter how hard you battle against it." Claire thought that the tightrope walker was up there "with no thought of death." And it angered her. "A stupid endless menu of death...Death by drowning, death by snakebite, death by mortar, death by wooden stake, death by bullet, death by piranha, death by sorrow, death by trip wire...but death by tightrope? Death by performance?" She felt he made life cheap. He made her own son's "so cheap".

In the end, the ends are all tied up. Not nicely but messily, like life. "It has never occurred to me before, " one character says, "but everything in New York is built upon another thing, nothing is entirely by itself, each thing as strange as the last but connected." McCann creates some very memorable characters that you truly come to care about and he creates a New York of the 1970's that you can feel palpitate.

Final word: An exceptional novel

The Many Ways Golf Beats Politics

2011-08-06T13:21:00.000-07:00

I found this great article in Sat., Aug. 6th's Wall Street Journal. John Paul Newport writes a golf article for the Journal almost every Sat. during the golf season. Enjoy! Thanks John Paul!

"At the beach last week, with plenty of time on my hands, no golf planned and a good Internet connection, I became obsessed with the political debt debate in Washington. Could there be a more perfect way to ruin a family vacation? As penance and out of gratitude for the game, I've compiled the following list of ways that golf, compared with politics, is wonderful.

Golf is nonideological. Ideologues cling to ideas even in the absence of proof that they work, whereas in golf definitive proof is plentiful and quick: The ball goes in the hole or it doesn't. It's not as if golfers aren't drawn to new ideas and abstract "systems," as witness late-night infomercials on Golf Channel. But most don't last long. The half-life of a golf idea is usually about a week.

Golfers are pragmatists. Results are what matter. There's not a soul in golf who thinks Jim Furyk's swing is morally wrong. Weird, unorthodox, bizarre—yes. Contributing to the decline of Western civilization—no. The guy has won a U.S. Open and 15 other tournaments with that swing. All hail Jim Furyk!

You can't spin golf. A score of 103 is a score of 103, no matter what kind of "optics" you seek to apply. Even as shrewd a hand as Karl Rove can't put a happy gloss on a triple bogey. The late Seve Ballesteros said it best. "I miss, I miss, I miss, I make," he explained, when asked about a four-putt green.

Golfers are happy with compromise. Every round is compromise, when you consider that a perfect score is 54 or so, achievable by hitting every green in regulation and holing every first putt. By that standard, level par is a low achievement, much less 90. But most golfers are ecstatic to break 90. Muddling through is the name of the game.

Golfers don't pass the buck. Well, maybe they try to a little, in the immediate aftermath of a horrible round. You hear them blame a bad start, a sore toe, the inopportune tweeting of a bird. Sergio Garcia once tried to blame fate. "I'm playing against a lot of guys out there, more than the field," he said after blowing a British Open. But mostly excuses are about salving wounds; apart from nodding sympathetically, nobody pays much attention. Tour pros are the best. You never hear them criticize their "friends from across the aisle," because in golf there is no aisle.

Everyone in golf is on the same side. By virtue of the handicap system, golfers can root for their opponents to do well. Perhaps not always, such as in a close match with postround drinks at stake, but in general. Golf is not a zero-sum game, unlike balancing a budget.

The handicap system is pure socialism, but no one objects. That's how nondivisive golf is. Handicaps take strokes from the strong and give them to the weak, allowing golfers of all ability levels to play together as friends. It's brilliant, and everybody's pleased.

The Rules of Golf are crystal-clear. A bit complicated, sometimes, but without loopholes. The nearest point of relief from a hazard, according to the Rules, is a "matter of fact," not opinion. And no amount of high-priced lobbying can convince a rules official otherwise.

Many of the most important "policies" in golf have to do with clothes. The silliest policy these days is the ban, at some courses, on cargo shorts. I wonder who thought that one up, and why? But the point is: fine. If that's golf's greatest regulatory burden, we can live with it. Policies without connection to anything meaningful are easy to laugh at. For example, I had the privilege last month of playing at a club in England that now allows short pants, but only when worn with "full-length hose." I saw only one member taking advantage of this decree, sporting colorfully striped socks that came up to his knee. He looked like Pippi Longstocking.

Golf makes for strange bedfellows. The match that President Barack Obama and House Majority Leader John Boehner played in June might not have affected the debt negotiations, but for a while there last week it looked like they were close to striking a Grand Bargain. The golf bond couldn't have hurt. In my world, when politics comes up on the course (very rarely), it's almost always defanged by the glory of the day and everyone's preference for getting on with the game.

Golfers are optimists. Getting better is hopeless, golfers know that. But they continue to hope and plug away regardless. That's what makes us so likable."

—Email John Paul at golfjournal@wsj.com

Twisted Head Part Eight

2011-07-31T16:09:00.000-07:00

I shot an 84 today! An 84! I haven't done that in a year and a half. Why is that so exciting for me? Well, A: it's a good score but B: it means that my botox shots are working. I can turn my head to the left and read a putt! The botox shots I got on April 28 brought me about 80% relief. That lasted, fairly consistently, until July 12, when I felt the first strong tug in my left should accompanied with a little pain. I've still been taking 1/2 of a valium everyday. So, I went to see Dr. Gwynn on July 28. Here's what he did for the last time as well as this time. He slightly diluted the botox so that he could get a wider spread of the solution. But what does that mean boys and girls? More shots! This time he did about 10 shots in the right neck muscles as well as the usual 20 or so on the left side. Well, let's just say I didn't keep count between the flinches. He does try to engage you in conversation while he's doing this. I simply sit in a chair with my back to him and he does what he does. This time our conversation ranged from my book club's reading choice for our summer get together (Edgar Allen Poe) to golf to his wife's fear of snakes. I had to tell him the snake in the toilet story from my childhood. When I was a kid, I lived on a ranch in South Texas. Our house was located on a little hill surrounded by the ranch. Whenever the Lavaca River flooded, Peach Creek, which ran through our property, would flood. Which meant the house of surrounded by water which then seeped into the septic tank which meant that all kinds of critters would slitter into it. One morning my mother went to left the lid off of the toilet, and low and behold, there was a water moccasin curled up in the bottom of the toilet. I don't remember how my mother resolved the situation but she did slam that lid shut very quickly. Or the time my sister yells "snake snake!" and I come running to the house (I guess I was 4 or 5 and my sister 5 or 6) and jump on the steps leading up to the house and darn if I did't jump right over the copper head!

The other thing I've been doing is going to see Dr. Joel Eaby, physical therapist. He is trying to strengthen my neck and back muscles to better combat the contractions in my left shoulder. I told him he needs to do a presentation at a symposium. But since there's only about 300,000 of us with cervical dystonia, he may have slim turn out.

So, even though, as of right now, there is no known "cure" for cervical dystonia, it seems I'm on the road to getting pretty good control of it. But just so I don't tempt the fates, as I respond to people on how my day is going, I just say Ok. I don't want the big guy up there to look down and say, "hmm. Think you're doing great?" Then ZAP!

165,000,000: Part One, Causation

2011-07-14T20:28:00.000-07:00

What is the 165,000,000? That is what we learn in the new non-fiction book Unnatural Selection: Choosing Boys Over Girls, and the Consequences of a World Full of Men by Mara Hvistendahl. The number is the number of female fetuses aborted in Asia due to sex selection. That's more than the current female population in the US. Now hold your horses. This isn't a blog on the word that begins with "A". I don't go there. It's like trying to win an argument about who should be the US president. But, what I did find interesting in this book is that there is a whole heck of a lot going on out there that needs to be known. Let me see if I can give the book its due justice. The author, Ms Hvistendahl, is pro choice. What she is interested in and concerned about is...the future of girls in the world. What I know: Because of China's overpopulation, they had instituted a 1 child per family policy, that the Chinese family prefers to have sons, that India is overpopulated, that women in Indian society, because of a lack of dowry paid in full, have often been killed and that the US upholds Roe V Wade. What I didn't know was the extend to which sex selection abortions occurred and I didn't know the involvement of the Western world in causing this phenomena.

Let's start at the beginning. If there is no human involvement in the sex selection of a child, for every 100 girl babies born there are 105 boy babies born. Simple. Nature knows that boys are more likely to be aggressive, involved in more dangerous activities (and die) and, therefore, prepares for it by having more births of boys. But then comes into influence the nature of society and customs which, in many parts of the world, prefers boys to girls. The author primarily focuses on Asia, India, and the Caucasus because that is where the majority of sex selection abortions take place. And why is that? Well, as I stated before, they prefer boys. Why? Because in many of these cultures the boy is the one that inherits the land, the boy is the one that sweeps the graves of the grandparents, and in India, doweries are required to marry off a girl. I'm simplifying here but the author heavily annotates her suppositions. Sex selection, in rural India, began with infanticide. Once the baby was born, and it was found to be a girl, the baby was killed. But something happened in the 50's, 60's and 70's. It was the advent of technology to help identify the sex of the baby before the baby was born, first amniocentesis, then ultrasound and then preimplantation genetic diagnosis (PGD). The ultrasound was developed from sonar used in WWII. GE(General Electric) was the creator of the ultrasound and eventually made one that was portable. "They introduced a low end untrasound machine that could be hooked up to a PC- at 1/6th the cost. The compact machine, in chairman of GE Immelt's words, was a hit in rural clinics." Let me state that the original purpose of all of these technologies was to find birth defects or diseases in the fetus. But because of other "influences" these technologies began to be used for other purposes. In the 50's, 60's and 70's, the West was in the throes of the cold war...to stop communism in its tracks. The thinking was that if a country was overpopulated and poor, they were a prime candidate for communism. So, what to do? Help those developing countries keep down their populations which would lead to economic growth which would stem communism, "lower birth rates lead to richer people". Then steps in all kinds of organizations from the Ford Foundation to the Rockerfeller Foundation to the World Health Organization to the International Planned Parenthood all to help these countries stem the tide of births. Millions of dollars are spread around to promote birth control and, yes, sex selection abortions. In India, ads began to run " better 500 rupees now than 5000 rupees later, referring to the price of a sex test as opposed to the cost of a dowry. Part two: More on the effects but what lies in the future...

A Horse Race Like You've Never Seen

2011-07-05T14:08:00.000-07:00

Like horse racing? Well, this is a horse race you have never seen before. The horses are blessed in their local churches before the race. The jockeys ride bareback and can knock each other off their horses. They can use trickery. And a riderless horse can win. If a riderless horse wins, the knocked off jockey can challenge the offender to a fist fight. The Kentucky Derby is a lightweight compared to the bi-annual Palio horse race in Siena, Italy. We had the good fortune of traveling to Italy for a wedding which was held in Siena during the Palio. We had found a great villa on RentVillas.com that was not far from town, was AIR CONDITIONED as well as having internet and satellite TV. The owner really knew how to cater to Americans. It was really an old barn that had been converted into a stand alone villa. Now you may scoff at us wanting these luxuries. Many stayed in more traditional villas with the thick walls and ancient history, but they were constantly hot (it was July after all) and the bathrooms were like shower stalls. But, we were within walking distance of a grocery store and a great local restaurant (no one spoke English). But, let’s go back to the horse race. The race is held every July 2 and Aug. 16. The Palio festivities begin 4 days before the race. Each contrada, district, has their own government, emblems and coat of arms, colors, patron saints and nobility. These contradas DO NOT LIKE EACH OTHER. During the four day "foreplay", so to speak, each contrada has music and dining set up in the streets for all its patrons. I’m talking seating for hundreds on almost every street in the contrada. Their colors and emblems and mascots are all on display in flags, scarves, shirts etc. The day of the race the horses, as I stated above, are blessed by the parish priest. The streets are filled with medieval pageantry and medieval dress. Each contrada then begins to escort its horse through the streets. Mostly men follow the horse and sing their special “contrada” song. There are two ways to see the race. The race is held in the center of town in the Piazza del Campo. There are ancient buildings surrounding the piazza. You can rent a space in one of these buildings securing a window seat (which will have food, drink and a toilet) for a considerable amount of money or you can do what we did, get in the middle of the throng, for free, and wait it out. Once you get inside the race ring, you can not leave. So we waited, I guess, 3 hours for the race to start. The race is over in about 60 seconds. The people are yelling and screaming, the colors of the contradas are flying and sure enough, a riderless horse wins and the jockey calls the other guy to fight. We didn't get to see the fight. It was on the other side of the track but I'm sure it was a slap around kind of thing. I don't know. These folks take their Palio very seriously. The winning contrada gets to lord it over the other contradas until the next Palio a month and a half later. It was an incredible experience.

The Writings of Erik Larson: A Review

2011-06-29T19:52:00.000-07:00

I came to love the writing of Erik Larson with his first book, Isaac's Storm. I'll tell you more about that book in a minute. Let me tell you first about his style. His books are works of non-fiction. What he does is takes two to three story lines, of the same period, and intertwines them. He has written four books that have all used this technique and all have been best sellers. Of course, your humble reviewer has read them all. I've enjoyed all but one. So, let's get back to his first best seller, Isaac's Storm. I am from Texas. When I was a kid, Florida was never a vacation destination but Galveston sure was. So, every summer our family would stay with my grandmother and drive the short distance from Houston to Galveston. In 1999 I heard that a new book was coming out about the great Galveston hurricane of 1900. I knew I had to buy it. What Larson does in this book is intertwines the beginning of the US weather service with the great hurricane itself. After the civil war and the advent of the telegraph, the US government set up "weathermen" in strategic locations to try and forewarn the coming of bad weather. One such new weatherman was Isaac Cline, and he was given the position in Galveston. The only training he got was with the Army Signal Corp. And they knew nothing about weather forecasting. Unfortunately for Isacc, this proves devastating. We learn that Isaac doesn't believe that a big storm will ever hit Galveston because of the where and way it is situated. We go from one chapter detailing the building of the weather service to the next chapter with Isaac trying to forecast the weather to the tracking of the storm itself. The hurricane is the largest natural disaster in American history. You'll learn all about this in terrifying detail and of the horrendous aftermath.

His second book, Devil in the White City, intertwines the story of a mass murderer with that of the 1893 Chicago World's Fair. It was some fair. It covered over 600 acres and had over 720,000 visitors. Some firsts at the fair: The Ferris wheel, Cracker Jacks, the zipper, juicy fruit gum, and ragtime, just to name a few. The fair brought all kinds of people to the city looking for work...such as young women from the countryside. It also brought a devil with the name of Herman Webster Mudgett, better known as Dr. Henry Howard Holmes. He built a hotel to house these lovely, young things. And since they were in such a big city with so many visitors, well, they were hardly missed...The story intertwines that of the architect who is trying to lead the construction of the fair with that of Dr. Holmes and his house of horror. Devil in the White City won an Edgar Award and was a finalist for a National Book Award.

Larson's third book is the one I liked the least: Thunderstruck. I guess because one of the interlocking stories is about the trials and travails of Guglielmo Marconi and the discovery of wireless radio. Too much science for me and too much back and forth about rivals trying to steal his invention. But the other story is about Hawley Harvey Crippen, the second most wanted murderer in Britian behind Jack the Ripper. Crippen murders his wife, runs away with his mistress, boards a ship to Canada... but wait... unknown to him, the ship is equipped with a new wireless radio. And Scotland Yard is hot on his trail using this new fangled technology. Millions of people around the world were listening on their wireless as Scotland Yard closed in. And Crippen and his mistress were unaware...Will they get their man? And what about that new fangled gadget, the wireless? I think we know where the latter went...

And the latest book from Larson, In the Garden of Beasts: Love, Terror and an American Family in Hitler's Berlin, is excellent. During the 1930's, FDR is having a heck of a time trying to find an ambassador to Germany. I wonder why? He is turned down by several (which is uncommon considering the prestige and pomp and circumstance that goes with the title) until someone mentions William E. Dodd, a college professor who speaks some German and who had once lived as a graduate student in Leipzig. When appointed, he is a small fish in a very big, stirred up pond. He brings his wife and his 24 year old daughter, Martha. They choose a house in the Tiergarten area. Tiergarten literally translates into "garden of the beasts". While Dodd tries to use reason and quite diplomacy with Hitler, his daughter cavorts with the likes of known communists and the first head of the Gestapo, Rudolph Diels. She's even set up for a "date" with Herr Fuhrer. So, the intertwining here is of the tense diplomacy of Dodd, the cavorting of his daughter, the infantcy of Hitler's Germany and the beginning of the descimation of Europe's Jews. While Dodd may appear hapless, he proves he is right about Hitler, while his daughter, Martha, is hapless and gets herself into some big trouble. We know how WWII ends but you don't know what happens to Martha. With this book, like all of the others, you'll know, as Paul Harvey used to say, "the rest of the story".

Review on the 944 page Shantarum: A Novel

2011-06-13T19:57:00.000-07:00

This book is like step on the gas then slam on the brakes followed by a step on the gas followed by a step on the breaks. I was watching the Road to Perdition with Tom Hanks and he's trying to teach his kid how to drive a car so he can be the getaway driver. The kid steps on the gas them slams on the breaks and continues down the road...steps, slams, steps, slams. The "step" part is all action and shoot'em outs and cruel prison guards and evil "madams" while the "slam" part is all Eat Pray Love pap. All philosophical and mystical and mumbo jumbo. That's my opinion and I'm sticking to it. That is what Shantarum is like. Let me set the stage. Now keep in mind this book by David Gregory Roberts is based loosely on his life. He was a writer. He had been married, had a nasty divorce and lost his little girl in the custody battle. He gets hooked on heroin and becomes Australia's "gentleman" bandit by robberies using a toy gun. He always wore a suit when he did these crimes. He is caught and sentenced to 17 years in prison. After two years, he breaks out and heads to Bombay/Mumbai. He stays there for ten years working as a "doctor" in the slums but also "working" with the local mafia. He was trying to smuggle cocaine into Germany when he was caught and then sent back to Australia to finish his sentence. There is a punishment unit, like in the book, and he also spent two years in solitary. While in prison he began writing this book. The warden and the guards destroyed the manuscript 3 times. I guess 17 years in prison gives a man a long time to think and philosophize which then leads to a 944 page tome.

Roberts really does a terrific job of characterization. He has some very evil, wicked people in this novel but at the same time, he tries to show the humanity of the hundreds of thousands of Indians living in the slums. The novel is rich with all types of characters from expats trying to hide from someone or something, to refugees escaping the horrors in their home countries, to the sub life of people simply trying to make a living in the dark underbelly of Bombay's black market. His prose can be very over the top. The golden sun dipped below the purple haze of the sari that clung to the bosom of Jeenethra as she slowly sipped the sweet aromatic chai. But you get through it because of the story. The main character's real name we never learn. But when he escapes from prison in Australia and comes to Bombay, he says his name is Lindsey. The locals begin to call him Linbaba. And then, because he learns the locals' language and doesn't shun their hard life, they name him "Shantarum", man of God's peace. But, he is anything but that. To hide, he lives in the mass of slums in Bombay but he does become quite well known to the expat community where he meets and falls in love with the beautiful but VERY mysterious Karla. As in real life, Linbaba does become involved in the Bombay mafia and does become a devoted medic to the dwellers of the slums. Here's where the two parts come in. Roberts gets the story really going. I mean some really good individual story lines that are heartbreaking, wrenching, violent, while others are so uplifting and warm and caring. Then comes in the Eat Pray Love pap. Page after page after page of philosophizing and mysticism. I know. It's India but he could have cut the book in half without going into the big bang theory and I'm not talking sex here. So, slam, halt, slam, halt. My Kindle's "next page" button got a work out. But if you want to read about what life is really like in the slums and the underbelly of India including some great characters, this is a great read . There are some good twists and turns and red herrings. Plus the character of Prabaker, Prabu, will warm and devastate your heart.

As far as Roberts is concerned, the book was published in Australia in 2003. He lives in India and still works at helping the dwellers of the slums and has won several humanitarian awards. The book's rights were bought by Johnny Depp's company and he was to play Linbaba. But it seems like the movies is on hold.

Going on a long trip or a long stay at the beach? Take this book. It will engross you.

My Summer Reading List

2011-06-04T17:54:00.000-07:00

I know that many of you don't have enough leisure time to try and find a good book. So, I thought I'd share with you what I've recently read and what's on my list for the summer. There are some major books coming in the fall, Grisham, Connelly, Flynn, etc. All I've already pre-ordered. I get a weekly email from bookreporter.com that let's me know what's new on the market. Anyway, if you're interested, here's what I've recently read and what I still have on my list:

Recently read:

Does the Noise in My Head Bother You, Steven Tyler (non-fiction, I think)(read my review on my blog)

In the Garden of Beasts: Love, Terror and an American Family in Hitler's Berlin, Erik Larson (non-fiction)

Dead Reckoning: Sookie Stackhouse, Charlaine Harris (Sookie's with Erik!)

The Snowman( newest) and Redbreast (oldest) Harry Hole novel's, Jo Nesbo

The Long Road Home, Ben Shepard (non-fiction, post WWII and dealing with displaced persons and prisoners)

Mildred Pierce, James Cain (classic noir, author of The Postman Always Rings Twice and Double Indemnity)

A Visit from the Goon Squad, Jennifer Egan (see blog for review)

Dreams of Joy, Lisa See (this is a sequel to Shanghai Girls and you do need to read that first. See is the author of Snowflower and the Secret Fan)

To read:

Cutting for Stone, Abraham Verghese

The Devil's Star (2nd Harry Hole novel), Jo Nesbo

The Madonna's of Leningrad: A Novel, Debra Dean (what can I say, I love WWII books)

Onward, Schultz and Gordon, (non fiction, rebuilding Starbuck's)

Blind the Ponies, Stanley West (no, it's not about blinding ponies)

Shantarum, Gregory Roberts (one of those big, sprawling, covering decades and generations kind of book)

Just Kids, Patti Smith (non-fiction, autobiography of the goddess of punk rock)

Autobiography of Mark Twain Vol. One, Smith, Griffin and Fischer

Parrot and Oliver in America, Peter Carey

Room, Emma Donoghue (book club selection)

The Electric Cool Aid Acid Test, Tom Wolfe (book club selection)

The Cookbook Collector, Allegra Goodman (book club)

Hope you find some of these interesting, engaging and I'm sure some will be boring and not worth the read.

Book Review:Does the Noise in My Head Bother You?: A Rock 'n' Roll Memoir by Steven Tyler

2011-05-27T13:06:00.000-07:00

Reviewer’s Suggestion: R Rated

When I first mentioned that I was reading this memoir to a friend of mine she said, “Oh you’ve GOT to review that for the community newsletter.” I said I’d have to finish the book first because what I was reading at the time definitely isn’t for everybody’s consumption. I was in my teens during the 60’s and definitely have been to my share of rock concerts throughout the 70’s and 80’s. And I’m a real classic rock and roll kind of girl. So, the autobiographies of some of the “greats” of rock roll are always on my list to read. But I’ve found most of them to be very boring including that of Eric Clapton and Keith Richards. How in the world can autobio’s by these two guys be boring? I don’t know but they were. But Steven Tyler has such an “out there” BIG personality that I figured I’d give it a try. After reading the first two pages, I asked myself, did you understand any of that? And then I understood the title. As Tyler himself says, ”What did you expect, the book to be linear?”

Let me say this about the memoir and why I gave the above warning. Tyler holds back on NOTHING when it comes to his sex life and describes in DETAIL many parts of the female anatomy using a variety of colorful adjectives. He also doesn’t hold back on his heavy abuse of drugs which began at the age of 15 with the approval of his parents. With Tyler being such a large part of American Idol and with Idol having a much younger audience than the mainstream, I just felt that parents ought to be aware that the Steven Tyler their kids see on Idol is NOT the Steven Tyler of the rock band Aerosmith. Ryan Seacrest asked Tyler, “This book is not for the faint of heart. You’ve really exposed yourself here. Is there an area you haven’t touched?” (The Reviewer to Seacrest, that is one LOADED question!) Therefore, if you watch what your kids read, just know that this book is full of sex, drugs and rock and roll. And if your kids read this first, they’ll run out and buy the book!

That said: The Memoir. Steven Tyler was born Steven Tallarico in 1948 in the Bronx, NY. (He never explains how he came up with the name Tyler). He actually had a pretty normal childhood. Every summer he and his parents would vacation at their family home in Sunapee, NH. He says he was, “ a mountain boy, barefoot and wild.” But by the time he was 15, he already knew he wanted to be a rock star. People thought, because of his mouth, that he looked like Mick Jagger and so began to dress like Jagger so he could say he was Mick’s brother and pick up chicks. When he was in his 20’s, he saw a beautiful girl in the front row and decided to “pick her up”. Tyler’s description of the pick up is a little more colorful. She turns out to be 16. He actually talks the girl into going to meet her parents, they love him, and he gets them to turn their daughter over to his custody so he can take her across state lines and follow him on tour. And that, ladies and gentleman, is just the beginning.

There was Mick and Keith and John and Paul all, as Tyler would call them, the “Toxic Twins.” And Tyler found his toxic twin in his relationship with his lead guitarist, Joe Perry. Tyler describes in great detail and with an uncensored voice, the ups and downs and crashes and hate that can sometimes rail road a successful band. I heard an interview with Tyler on Fox and Friends and he said he wrote the book because (I’m paraphrasing) he wanted the folks in the Midwest to understand the ins and outs of a rock and roll band, the dealings with lawyers, taxmen, managers, hangers on etc. I had to laugh at that. It seemed absurd to me. That is a small portion of the memoir and I don't know if the breadbasket is ready for Tyler's tell all. What Tyler really is saying is that he became what he wanted, a BIG rock and roll star, but it didn’t lead him where he thought it was going to go. It led him to making millions of dollars but as he says,”I snorted my plane, I snorted my house”, which led to 10 rehabs, the last of which was last year for addiction to sleeping pills. He also gets hepatitis C. He discusses with sensitivity the women he loved and married and divorced, but then says he can’t understand why women don’t understand that a man is a “Man” and that when a beautiful woman wants some, it’s his obligation to give it to her. Unfortunately for him, most of the women in his life were also drug addicts which left them both co-dependent. He talks about life on the road and all he did was write, rehearse, record and tour and, of course, all to the detriment of family life. He has 4 children by three different women. He writes that his daughter, Mia, has written a “tell all” book and he was shocked to learn she was a “cutter”.

As far as American Idol, he got the call just as he gets out of rehab. He doesn’t discuss it with the band because, once again they’re fighting, and Aerosmith is looking for a new lead singer. So, in other words, he’s saying to his band mates, up yours…

Let me just end with one vignette that Tyler recounts. It’s probably the only time a woman turns him down. He’s on tour with Joan Jett and he makes a pass at her. She rejects him so he shows up at her hotel room door, naked, and knocks. Jett rejects him with one of the best comeback lines in history: Referring to Aerosmith’s song Big Ten Inch, Jett says, “I’m not into (insert song), honey”, and closes the door. Dream on, dream until your dreams come true...

Book Review: A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan

2011-04-30T16:52:00.000-07:00

2011 Pulitzer Prize Winner for Fiction

I normally like to check out award winners, read reviews on them, and if it sounds interesting, then I’ll buy it. This is dangerous because the literati, writers for the New York Times, LA Times etc, definitely have different ideas about what makes up a good/literary read. I went back in time and did some research on past Pulitzer Fiction winners to see which ones I had read and which ones I enjoyed. I just picked 1948 as my starting point and low and behold, the winner was James Michener’s Tales of the South Pacific, which I loved. From that Pulitzer pick to 2011, I have read 16. I enjoyed all 16. The difference between that 1948 pick and that of the 2011 winner is like night and day, sand and water. One is simplistic and the other is dense, sprawling, confusing, annoying and tries to use so many literary techniques, it makes your head spin. It’s not Tales of the South Pacific. This is not a book to take lightly. Once you start, you need to keep with it and here’s why: The structure of the novel is like a crap shoot. Take two, three, four die and put the name of Sasha on some and the name of Bennie on the others. Then roll. Each number that comes up constitutes a chapter and a different character that has in some way been in contact with (however remotely) Sasha and or Bennie. So, the “novel” really is a set of short stories that could stand on their own but don’t because of the Sasha, Bennie connection. The other issue is that the novel jumps back and forth in time (over about a 40 year span) and voices change, its 1st person, then 2nd person, then 3rd. So, pay attention. The good news about the novel is that the some of the “short” stories are very good. Here’s the premise. Most of the people that populate this book are in some way connected to underground or punk rock music. Bennie is a punk rocker and Sasha is an aficionado. She ends up working for Bennie when he hits it big with his group (he, as producer), the Conduits. But, you see, Sasha has a problem. She’s a kleptomaniac. Yep, steals, steals, and steals. But it’s not the THINGS she desires. It’s the actual act of the stealing. We have another story line of a music producer who already has had two wives and 4 kids and now takes a potential third wife on a safari with his two older children. The story is told from the view point of female lover and the daughter. Some of these stories are quite funny and others downright melancholy. Stories of drug addiction, celebrity (think any young starlit that has gotten herself in trouble), suicide, family life, pauses in songs, annoyances, longing, and life beginning at “A” point, ending at “B” point and then the “A to B” point. And one in particular that I found amusing but I suppose I shouldn’t have is the story of Dolly who was once the best when it came to publicity. But she has a disastrous party which kicks her out of the limelight and is forced to do publicity for murderous dictators (which includes the now aged 28 year old starlit).

One of the things that vexed me at first is that when Egan is in the middle of a story revolving one of the characters, she then proceeds to tell you the characters life outcome. In a few short words, you find out the “B” point of that person. But then as you progress through the book, you realize that you need this because you may not see that character again. The final story I found to be one of the least effective. It’s about “A” meeting “B”. Bennie, who is now down and out, has talked one of his “has been” protégés into doing a big comeback. But, we are now in the future and babies are called “pointers” and discussions mostly take place on “handsets” that can just about do anything. The texting is texting on steroids. It is a story that does not do justice to the rest of the book. I felt lost. As far as the title goes, the definition of goon is lout, lummox, oaf, stumblebum, oaf, or clod. I think, and of course it’s only my opinion, but I believe that is the way she sees people living their lives. They’re stumbling, fumbling their way through life because they sure don’t know what the “B” point is.

It seems to me that Egan was trying to please two audiences at one time: the Pulitzer committee (or literati) with her varied techniques, multilayered stories, etc. But at the same time, she has written some stories that any everyday reader might enjoy. If you want a mental challenge, pick this book up. It did win the Pulitzer Prize…whatever that might mean to you…To me? It's a crap shoot...

Jolly Olde London Towne

2011-04-27T19:58:00.000-07:00

I've been going to London since 1977. While I was teaching at Round Rock HS in Texas, I used to sponsor students, and some adults also came along, on "if it's Tuesday it must be Belgium" types of trips. What brings me to reminisce is that my daughter has now moved there. Things have changed in London and changed a great deal. The biggest change (and pardon the pun) is that you don't get nearly as much "change" when you pay for something. The US dollar against the British pound sucks. My daughter could really elaborate about the expenses but just for me, paying 7 pounds or $11 US for a tube ride to go three stops is outrageous. When I first went in the late '70's, we were flying high with the dollar. The other big change is that back in the '70's everyone was afraid of the Irish Republican Army. I was at the British Museum of History and saw "bobbies" using long sticks with mirrors on the bottom so that they could look underneath the chaises of the cars for bombs. When the Queen Mum turned 100 in July of 2000 (the one in The King's Speech), the IRA was still at work. I was at the Tate Museum of Modern Art and had left to get the tube back to the hotel. The tube doors did not open and an announcement came over the loud speakers to say that everyone should "vacate the area immediately. " The IRA had put 9 bombs on the rail tracks. I later heard that the IRA had a code they gave the police so that the police knew it was a credible IRA threat. The IRA had effectively shut down the whole city.  President Clinton brokered a peace (somewhat) between the IRA and Great Britain and now the emphasis is on radical Islam. You can not travel anywhere within London where there is not a camera watching you. Just look. Corner after corner after corner. The other change is this: New York City is a city of immigrants. But mostly immigrants that have been here for a long time. Not all, but most. London is a city of new immigrants that do not wish to assimilate. Britain allowed cultural diversity to lead to non- assimilation. And they are now dealing with these very tough issues.

Two other memories for me:   I was in London a week before Diana wed Charles and a week after Princess Diana was killed in that tragic car accident. I will never forget the pre-wedding Charles and Diana memorabilia that encompassed every aspect of life, plates, glasses, beer mugs, banners, ashtrays, all with their smiling faces. Then the week after Diana died: the flowers, candles, teddy bears etc that were strewn in front of Buckingham Palace and Kensington Palace. Candles candles everywhere.

So, flash forward to this past week. We're in London visiting our daughter and it is once again Royal wedding time. The city is starting to put up the bunting and there are, once again, the smiling faces of the Royal and future Royal on plates, mugs, glasses, ashtrays etc. But this time the tone seems muted. The Commonwealth is in financial straits, people are out of work, this is the future, future king and the Brits have more on their minds. One cabbie said they were having a bar-b-que but most of the people I spoke with said they shouldn't be spending all that money when the regular folk are having a hard time of it. Only 48% of the British people said they "cared".

Food. London has joined the ranks of the other culinary meccas as a "foodie" destination. There was an article the other day in the WSJ about chefs from New York opening restaurants in London. Of course, London has always had wonderful Indian food, but back in the '70's, the food was what most "foodies" thought...bland. Yes, there is still bangers and mash and kidney pie, but we went to a fabulous outdoor market, The Borough Market, under London Bridge, and it was UNBELIEVABLE. I will post along side this blog pics with the yummy oysters, clams, cheeses cheeses cheeses, paella, olives, ahhhhh, all too good...Our daughter has taken us to some very good restaurants. One I want to mention, not because the food was so outstanding, but because their bread presentation was outstanding. We went to Gaucho, in Piccadilly, for steak. But the star was the bread served with chimichurri sauce AND fresh ground pepper WITH freshly ground sea salt. It was incredible....

And one of my favorite places, the Dungeons of London, which I visited for the first time in the 70's is now a "Disney" type of attraction. It used to be old and cheesy with cobwebs and fake moans and groans and creaking torture racks. Now it's all 3D and sound effects. Booorrrinnng.    We did revisit the "War Rooms" underneath Whitehall which now has a very extended Winston Churchill Museum. It focuses on how the leaders of Britain, during WWII, lived and worked during the bombing of London by the Nazis. If you're into WWII history, it is very fascinating.

Our duaghter took us to a "new" property that is actually an "old" property. It's the St. Pancras Hotel. It is at the hub of the EuroStar rail. Check out their web site and learn about this fine "old" hotel. http://www.marriott.com/hotels/travel/lonpr-st-pancras-renaissance-london-hotel/

And, finally, do the "Original Double Decker Bus Tour" rather than the "Big Bus Tour". More busses and easier aceess. We decided not to get off as we passed a 5 hour wait to Madame Tussaud's. The round trip for one day was 80 pounds for the three of us...that's $133...

Twisted Head Part Seven

2011-04-19T19:38:00.000-07:00

Well, I haven't posted anything since January on the status of my twisted head. If you're squeamish, don't read further. As I said in my previous post, I'm going to the best doctor in the southeast for my malady. His name is Dr. Matthews Gwynn. A very nice guy. He's been using botox for this malady for 20 years and teaches other doctors in the state of Georgia how to do the procedure. Well, he utilizes a different technique than the other neurologist. He has the IMG machine but the needle is hooked up to the machine with the vial of botox in the syringe. Look away now kids...he puts the needle in one set of neck muscles, moves it around and if he hears a crrrrrrrr sound from the machine of the muscle contracting, there is where he injects the botox. I had no idea how many sets of muscles there are in the neck. Anyway, he proceeds and I'll just say, it is uncomfortable. He decides that he not only wants to give me the injections on the left side but also on the right! And sure enough, crrrrrrr. The most difficult part of this isn't the shots. It's finding the right protocol. The exact spot to do the injections, how much to inject and then, is it the right toxin. Medical research has developed many new "botox" like toxins that can be used. The other problem is that if the protocol used by the doctor doesn't work, then you have to wait three months for your next injections. This last set, in January, helped about 50%. I decided that I would take half a valium in the morning and if we were going out that night, another half, which after a martini makes for a very mellow yellow evening. Otherwise, I put on a neck brace and try to exercise and then lay down. So, I go this Monday for my next set of shots. It's like this. It's like climbing a mountain. You get the shots and you don't really feel any relief for 2-3 weeks. Then you reach the top and, if the protocol is right, you have 6-8 weeks of some relief (at least that's my experience so far). And as you get to the top of the mountain and begin to descend, the 3rd month, then you begin to feel the tugging and pain in the shoulder. Physical therapy has helped. We're working on strengthening my right neck muscles to counteract the pull of the left and working on strengthening my back to do the same. Pretty soon with my chin, I shall be able to pop a top off a Bud. I'll keep you posted on how the next "round" goes....

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks: A review

2011-04-06T17:05:00.000-07:00

You go for a routine skin cancer scan at your dermatologist’s. They remove a small piece of skin that looks suspicious and they send it to the lab for testing. You’ve been diagnosed with prostate cancer and the prostate is removed and tested. You’ve had a hysterectomy and all the organs are sent out to be tested. Then what? What happens to those pieces of skin or organs? Thrown into the medical waste bin? Sometimes yes, sometimes NO. In 1999 the RAND Corporation estimated that American labs alone held more than 307 million tissue samples from 178 million people. Didn’t know that, did you? And neither did the family of Henrietta Lacks.

Henrietta was born into a poor sharecropping family in 1920. When she married, she moved to Maryland with her husband and 5 children. Her husband was not faithful by any means and repeatedly infected her with sexually transmitted diseases particularly HPV’s (human papillomavirus).

And in 1951, at the age of 31, she began to realize that she had a “knot” inside of her and went to Johns Hopkins Hospital to find out what was wrong. She had cervical cancer. While they were packing her insides with radium, the doctors, unbeknownst to Henrietta or her family, took two dime sized slices from her cervix, one from the cancerous side and the other from the healthy side. And history was made. (She died 6 months later.) You see, up until this point, human cells could not be grown outside of the body. And human cells were needed for experimentation which meant, at the time, they needed humans for the experiments. But Henrietta’s cells went ballistic in the petri dishes (because of an enzyme that keeps them from aging). From that one little piece of dime sized tissue has come an estimated 50 million metric tons of HeLa (Henrietta Lacks) cells. They have been used in research to develop the first polio vaccines, test chemo drugs like Taxol, find treatments for AIDS and map gene onto human chromosomes. They’ve even been into space and blown up in a nuclear weapon.

Rebecca Skloot first heard about HeLa cells in college and while in graduate school, soon began to see a story involving science and society. She found evidence that the cancerous cells had been injected into prisoners and that Henrietta’s cells had been cultured, disseminated and sold without her or her family’s knowledge or consent. Biotechnology companies made millions selling HeLa cells with her children never seeing a dime. Skloot veers back and forth between the science of the cells and the crushing poverty and illiteracy of Henrietta’s descendants. The family first gets a glimpse of something when a cousin calls and tells them, “Part of your mother, it’s alive!” They can’t understand this. As cousin Cootie put it, “Nobody round here never understood how she dead and that thing still livin. That’s where the mystery’s at.” Henrietta’s daughter, Deborah, is the main focus in the story about the family because she never really knew her mother and was the most disturbed by her lack of understanding of science. She says, once she gets to see the cells of her mother, “Oh, God, I can’t believe that is my mother!” She had a fear that experimental fusion of HeLa cells would produce a “human monster that is half her mother, half tobacco.” Henrietta’s descendants never got a penny from HeLa cells but Skloot has put together a trust fund with proceeds from the book for their educations.

But here is the point of the whole book. Yes patients’ names and records are now private but doctors can still remove, profit from, and even patent a patient’s tissues or DNA without permission. In a 1980’s case a man found out that a doctor who had removed his cancerous spleen had patented some of his cells to create a cell line then valued at more than $3 billion. The man sued and lost. It is still not necessary to obtain consent to store cells and tissues taken in procedures and then used for research. My book club thought it was fine because it was all for the greater good. What do you think?

Paraprosdokians

2011-03-11T14:24:00.000-08:00

A paraprosdokian is a figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence or phrase is surprising or unexpected in a way that causes the reader or listener to re-frame or reinterpret the first part. It is frequently used for humorous or dramatic effect. Enjoy!

I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my grandfather. Not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.

The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it's still on the list.

If I agreed with you, we'd both be wrong.

We never really grow up; we only learn how to act in public.

War does not determine who is right -- only who is left.

I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn't work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.

Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience.

Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

The early bird might get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

Evening news is where they begin with 'Good evening,' and then proceed to tell you why it isn't.

To steal an idea from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is research.

How is it one careless match can start a forest fire, but it takes a whole box to start a campfire?

Dolphins are so smart that within a few weeks of captivity, they can train people to stand on the very edge of the pool and throw them fish.
I thought I wanted a career; turns out I just wanted paychecks.

A bank is a place that will lend you money if you can prove that you don't need it.

Whenever I fill out an application, in the part that says "In an emergency, notify:" I put "A DOCTOR."

I didn't say it was your fault; I said I was blaming you.

Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet?

Behind every successful man is his woman. Behind the fall of a successful man is usually another woman.

A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute to skydive twice.

The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some good ideas!

I discovered I scream the same way whether I'm about to be devoured by a great white shark or if a piece of seaweed touches my foot.

Some cause happiness wherever they go.. Others, whenever they go.

There's a fine line between cuddling and holding someone down so they can't get away.

I used to be indecisive. Now I'm not sure.
I always take life with a grain of salt... plus a slice of lemon... and a shot of tequila.

You're never too old to learn something stupid.

To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target.

Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.

A bus is a vehicle that runs twice as fast when you are after it as when you are in it.

Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

Amos Daragon #1: The Mask Wearer by Bryan Perro

2011-03-06T17:50:00.000-08:00

Children’s Book ages 9-12

I’ve never been a big fan of fantasy books or movies. The only one I’m addicted to is The Lord of the Rings, which I’ve read time after time and have seen the movies over and over. I found it amusing that the name of the hero of this book is Daragon and one of the heroes of The Lord of the Rings is Aragorn. Just a coincidence, I’m sure.

Amazon.com had selected Amos Daragon as one of its “BEST OF” for the month of Feb. I ordered it for my goddaughter without reading it and then thought, hmmm, maybe before giving a book to a child, I’d better READ IT FIRST! Duh… The setting reminded me, again, of middle earth in The Lord of The Rings. It is chock full of all kinds of creatures and mythology, Seth, the Egyptian god of darkness and evil, fairies, gorgons (think Medusa), and humanimals (think the Island of Dr. Moreau), sorcerers, druids, gods, knights etc. So, on to the story. You have a poor peasant boy, aged 12, whose father is held under the thumb of the evil, rich, and dumb lord of the kingdom and whose mother has lost all of the sparkle from her eyes. While out searching for food, Amos finds a remarkable cave and is at first frightened by a deafening screech from within but then is coaxed in by a soothing voice. It turns out to be the Princess of the Waters, a mermaid, and she is dying. She gives Amos a small white stone and her trident and asks him to hurry to the forest of Tarkasis, where he is to give the stone to another mermaid where he will become The Mask Wearer. She doesn’t tell him what that means but, of course, he later finds out. He realizes that his parents are losing their will to live so he cleverly extricates them from the dimwitted lord and they try to find Tarkasis. Along the way, they come upon another kingdom, again ruled by a cruel but clever lord. This lord, however, has a special talisman he wears around his neck that is being sought by an evil sorcerer. And this lord’s lands are being terrorized by gorgons. Remember, Medusa, whenever anyone looked her in the eye, she turned them to stone. So, these gorgons are turning his peasants and knights into stone. As Amos continues on his journey, he gets separated from his parents. He then begins to see that there is much good in the world but also much evil. He sees that they are constantly at odds with one another.

And that is the purpose of sending Amos to the forest. He will be asked to re-establish an old cult. It’s a cult that tries to bring into balance good and evil. The mask he will be given will confer on him the ability to control the four elements, earth, fire, air and water. The white stone he has been given is the first of 16. But there are 15 others and he can not gain control of the elements until he has set all 16 stones into the mask. (I’m guessing that is what the other books are about.) The first stone is the element of air and Amos must find a way to use this element and his cleverness to get rid of the gorgons and get rid of that talisman before the evil sorcerer finds it. And, he must wrench the world from the grip of evil and bring balance back to the universe. It’s a tall order for a 12 year old kid. But, hey, it is fantasy.

The book does have some very good messages. Do you have the courage to stand up for your convictions? What does it really mean to be a friend? What is loyalty and what inspires it? What is beauty? Is it really in the eye of the beholder? There are some very good themes entwined throughout this fantasy.

Amos Daragon came out in England and Canada in 2009 and I hear it’s being made into a movie. There’s no profanity, no adult situations only some mild battle scenes. The descriptions of some of the mythical characters might be a little scary for younger kids. I guess that’s why it’s aimed at the 9-12 year old range. I haven’t had the opportunity to ask my goddaughter how she liked the book. But the consensus on the net is the kids really enjoy it.

A Review on the Author Vince Flynn

2011-02-12T18:12:00.000-08:00

Picture this if you can. Vince Flynn, the wildly popular political thriller writer, has been asked by then President George W. Bush to the White House. They then proceed to the presidential limo to go to some function or other. Once they get comfortably inside, Bush leans across the limo as he points his finger at Flynn and demands,” You tell me right now who your contacts are in the CIA and FBI! I want to know NOW!” Bush was joking around but that shows how good Flynn is with his political thrillers and how on the spot he is with detail, dialog and plot. That's a true story, by the way. Flynn admits he does have contacts but, of course, refuses to name them.

Vince Flynn is a 44 year old writer fighting dyslexia and is now fighting stage 3 prostate cancer. He tried to be a Marine but for some medical reasons was unable to join. While working at Kraft Foods, he decided to work on overcoming his dyslexia. He began to read and read and read. He especially loved espionage. As with many first time authors he tried to get his work published but was turned down time after time. He finally decided to self publish and the genre of political thrillers has never been the same. His first novel, Term Limits, quickly shot up the New York Times best seller list. I think the reason for his success is not only his insight into the worlds of the FBI, CIA and counter terrorism but the main character of the majority of his books, the one and only Mitch Rapp. He makes Jack Bauer look like a pussy cat. Speaking of Jack Bauer and 24, Flynn has, for many years, been a consultant for that show.

Let’s talk Mitch Rapp. He is the superb specimen of a man (ladies you can insert image here, gents your own ideas). He is in superb physical condition and mentally as strong as a diamond. Now, if you believe that water boarding is torture and it offends your sensibilities, then I suggest you don’t read Flynn. The reason? Rapp’s first and only thought is what is best for his country. Let’s say he’s got two terrorists in a basement and neither one is talking. They know something about a tanker headed to the US with a dirty bomb on it and it’s headed to the port of Miami. Reasoning, a few slaps, a few punches, nothing works. Rapp, by then, has figured out the one that is the mentally weakest. He then tells them he’s going to shot one of them but doesn’t tell them which one. He moves the gun back and forth back and forth and then shots the one who is the mentally strongest. The other one tells him what he needs to know.

The casts of characters range far and wide. Evil, money grubbing Russian mafia, Islamic radicals, home grown terrorists, gun dealers with no conscience ... Mitch will do anything and everything to do one thing, protect his country. Mitch will travel anywhere, anytime, with no sleep, lack of weapons, no money. But don't worry. Mitch will be fine, most of the time. Rapp is not a fan of politicians or of the political machines and he particularly doesn’t like those that are politically correct or those that are weak on national defense. Sometimes Flynn does portray these politicians as caricatures. But he’s spot on! Rapp wants to rid the world of the scum (both terrorist and politicians) NOW!

Flynn is a writer that appeals to both men and women. He gives details but doesn’t overload you with them, there’s always plenty of action and every once in a while, Rapp gets attached to a woman. But in his job, as an off the radar guy, he doesn’t often get the “opportunity” so to speak and because of their relationship to him, well, they often aren’t long for this world.

I would start with his newest book, American Assassin, which is a prequel. It’s the story of how Rapp gets involved in the shadowy world of espionage. Then move on to his first novel, Term Limits and go from there. My book club, which really isn’t a fan of this genre, read Memorial Day and thoroughly enjoyed it.

"When I created Mitch Rapp, I thought what mentally healthy person decides to become a killer for the C.I.A. or for their country?...I wanted a guy...when he decided that someone was a bad guy and needed to be killed, he wasn't going to cry or go vomit in the corner or lose any sleep over it," says Vince Flynn, author of American Assassin.

I wish Vince Flynn well in his effort to battle cancer and if he's anywhere as strong as Mitch Rapp, the cancer will be done for...

US Aid to Foreign Countries (Not so Boring Considering What's Happening in Egypt)

2011-02-02T19:24:00.000-08:00

I've always known that the US has given aid to countries throughout the world. In my younger days, I envisioned that this aid went to cure diseases, fight hunger etc. As I became older and more jaded, I queried of myself, which I often do, where is the money of the US taxpayer going and to what ends are those monies being used? Well, surprise surprise surprise. It ain't where you thunk. I've done a great deal of reading lately about the monies we send to Africa. Now, President Bush (even Bono had to agree with this one) used hundreds of millions of US dollars, bordering on the billions, to help eradicate malaria and AIDS in Africa. Those dollars have done much good. So, hurrah for Pres. Bush. But throughout the entire history of our country, we have used foreign aid to prop up dictators and despots to safeguard our own welfare. Now, let's talk Egypt. I was there two years ago and can confidently say that while cruising the Nile, I could have been floating on Cleopatra's barge and the countryside hadn't changed one iota since her time. Tilling of the land was still done by donkey with the women following behind pulling up what needed to be pulled up. Washing done in the Nile while people used it as a latrine. Starving and dying animals left on the street for the police to kill. The GDP of the average Egyptian is between $2000-$3000 US per year (From the International Monetary Fund). We, as a country, have given Egypt between 2000-2008, close to $20 billion in aid. The majority of that money goes to their military. And our government knows that. To our governments credit, the past administrations have tried to get Mubarak to give the people of Egypt more freedoms, but he has refused. As a matter of fact, Condoleezza Rice angered the Egyptians in 2005 by saying, our "government's vision for the Middle East, will no longer tolerate oppression in the region as it has done for 60 years. She stressed that democracy is "inevitable" and that "the fear of free choice can no longer justify the denial theory". Well, so much for that. Here's is some interesting info from the Heritage Foundation. Here are the 6 top money receivers for foreign aid from the US from 2000-2008:

Iraq- 51.2 Billion
Israel- 29.4 B
Afghanistan -25.6B
EGYPT-18.5B
RUSSIA-10.7 B
Columbia-7.7B

We give aid in three basic ways, humanitarian (earthquakes, hurricanes etc), military (we provide equipment or training), and lastly development assistance. The last one is where we fall flat. The Heritage Foundation: "If development assistance contributed demonstrably to higher standards of living in poor nations, it would support other U.S. priorities because wealthier nations are generally more stable, more democratic, and more likely to become economic partners with America". In fact in many of the countries that we give development assistance to, the GDP (gross domestic product) has stayed the same or in many cases gotten worse. I looked up why the US gives Russia money and it's for development assistance. Hello, ever hear of all of those Russian oligarchs with the gazillions of dollars? Why aren't they giving money for domestic abuse clinics etc.?

So, there's now a call to cut off aid to Egypt unless Mubarak steps down and initiates true reforms. Jack Cafferty on CNN asked this same questions of his viewers, caffertyfile.blogs.cnn.com, and the answers were all over the place. I just know that the majority of the people are very poor, uneducated (the government wants them that way), the infrastructure sucks, yet the military has the best weapons, airplanes, tanks, all courtesy of the US. Something ain't right here. If you'd like to read my original blog on my trip to Egypt, go to the search engine on the left side of the blog and type in Egypt. It was done on Dec. 30, 2008.

How I Got My First Orchid and Now Have 80

2011-01-22T20:12:00.000-08:00

I'm an orchid hobbyist or as my husband would say, a fanatic. I'm not a fanatic. Ever read The Orchid Thief? Fanatic. But, how did I become enamored, enthralled with growing orchids? I blame a friend who graciously gave me a Phalaenopsis (moth) orchid. They're the ones you see most frequently in grocery stores and nurseries. The reason is that they are both beautiful and easy to grow. Unfortunately most people, once the blooms have fallen off, don't have a clue what to do with it and therefore, dump it. How sad. I'm not a dumper when it comes to plants. So, I went to the official site for the American Orchid Society (aos.org) and looked up the care needed to keep a Phalaenopsis alive. Really not that much to it: moderate light, water every 5-7 days and keep it at a relatively comfortable temperature. Most of these orchids are re-planted while blooming so that the wholesaler can put it in a nice pot or ceramic pot to make it look prettier. Normally, this will kill the plant. Some of the containers have no holes at the bottom to let the water out when you water the plant. That will also kill the plant. So, if you receive a plant that is in a container that has no drainage hole, check to see if maybe the orchid is in a plastic pot that has been set into the decorative one. If so, you're OK. Otherwise, water the orchid sparingly until the blooms fall off, then you can cut off the "spike" (the stem the flowers were on) and then re pot. I can't tell you how many orchids I have bought from nurseries that put the "spent" orchids on a discount table. They look so sad but a winner for me! What was once $45 is now $5. I can tell by look of the plant as to what species it is. If there are no insects and it shows some sign of new growth, I buy that baby and then nourish it to see what I will get when it blooms. I am always rewarded. Most orchids sold today in stores are easy to grow. I've gotten into some exotics where you really have to have the correct lighting, the correct temps and the correct humidity to get them to bloom. And blooming is really what it's all about. So, let's talk how really easy it is to grow and get an orchid to bloom. Remember, most orchids only bloom once a year but the blooms may stay on for MONTHS. The easiest orchids to grow in a regular home are the Phalaenopsis (the moth orchid), the Cattleya (used in all those prom corsages), Dendrobiums (all over the tables in Hawaii), the Oncidium (sold in most nurseries) and the Cymbidium (those big orchid plants you see in grocery stores). I want to keep your interest, so I'm not going to go through each plants particular needs. That you can find at the aos.org site or any orchid site. What I do want to tell you is some things I've learned over the years:

Don't over water. Check the aos.org site for particulars for each plant. I think this is a mistake most people make. I need to water this thing. No. No, you don't. Especially in the winter when most orchids are gathering strength to begin growing and blooming season. Ease up on the water in the winter.

Humidity. How do you keep things humid in houses that are heated and air conditioned? Well, you can get a small mister (I'm not talking Tom Cruise. Hairball, that's a very bad joke) and mist once a day, or as most sites will tell you, simply put the pot on top of some small pebbles in a small dish or tray and keep water in the tray. Orchids don't like wet "feet" so don't let the water go higher than the bottom of the pot. In the southeast, our summers are very humid. So, out the door all of my orchids go into shaded or dappled light. The only problem here is you had better check for insects before bringing them inside. Fuzzy scale can kill a plant in days. I hate those things.

Fertilizer. A local grower turned me on to this and I'm sure a purist would have a fit but the answer is time released fertilizer granules, like Osmocote. Put a little pinch on top of your growing medium and every time you water, some fertilizer is released.

Keep away from your pets! Orchids are not poisonous but many of their leaves are delectable munchies for your pets. My cats love to eat the leaves which does not make for a beautiful display.

Light. Check with the aos on each orchids lighting needs. Most will grow perfectly in an east window or shaded southwest window. Phalaenopsis need lots less light than a cattleya. And if you don't have the right light, they will not bloom. But never, ever, ever, put an orchid in direct sunlight. My husband, dear sweet man that he is, while staining the deck, took all of my phalaenopsis and put them in the direct sun. They literally turned to mush.

Where to buy. All over the US there are wholesalers. In the Atlanta area I know of a few but in the SE, particularly Florida, there are a zillion. Well, maybe not a zillion, but many. Find a good local grower. You can save some good bucks by doing so and they like to take the time to show you their gorgeous babies. The only issue is that they may not be close in. The two I visit are out in "the country" and back roads are necessary. But as I tell my husband, if I went to the PGA store for an hour, I could do some serious damage. But if I go to a grower and spend an hour, I can come out with 4-5 plants for under a $100 and would have learned a great deal more about the "hobby" of growing orchids and have a few more babies to occupy my time.

Keen-wah

2011-01-18T12:58:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid growing up in my little hometown of 800, there was one local grocery store. And fortunately it was a time when kids could still ride their bikes up and down the streets or walk to the local grocery without fear of being abducted. At this local grocery store, there was one food that my sister and I loved to go get. Ice cream? No. Candy? No. Ok then, how about Big Red (for you yankees that's a local red colored cola that's great over ice cream and one hell of a hangover cure)? No. The lady who owned the store had a big vat of pickled herring. I can just hear the groans now. Pickled herring? Are you nuts? For some reason or another my sister (not my younger sister, she won't eat fish) and I took a great liking to these little fishes and to this day, I still find them delicious. And on top of that, low these many years later, I find that they're also very good for you. Now my father, on the other hand, loved canned sardines. I think he ate a tin of sardines in olive oil everyday of his adult life. Why this reminiscing about herring and sardines? (Are you still with me or have you X'd me out?) Because I saw this list in Real Simple magazine about the 30 best foods to keep you healthy and sardines is on the list. So, to keep you from having to go out and buy the magazine, here are the top 30 foods you need to eat to keep you healthy:

almonds, avocadoes, barley, black beans, blueberries, broccoli, bulgur, chard, boneless, skinless chicken breasts, edamame, eggs!, extra virgin olive oil, kale, kidney beans, kiwi, lentils, mushrooms, oatmeal (steel cut or old fashioned), oranges, peanut and almond butters (all natural), pumpkin, quinoa (pronounced keen wah), SARDINES, skim milk, spinach, sweet potatoes, walnuts, whole grain pasta, wild salmon, nonfat Greek yogurt.

Now, with that being said, don't sit down and eat as a meal almonds, avocadoes, peanut and almond butter, sardines and salmon. Sounds like the ingredients you might find in "the basket" on Chopped...Although very good for you, you would have eaten a meal way beyond any normal calorie allotment for the day. Mix and match the low cal with the other "good" fat foods...

Stay healthy in 2011 and beyond!

Twisted Head Part Six-Whatever

2011-01-13T17:43:00.000-08:00

It's been July since I last wrote about my twisted head. I suppose that could be a name for a rock band, the twisted heads. Anyway, there hasn't been much of a change. The second set of shots where the neurologist used the EMG machine, seemed to work fairly well. So, I was rather optimistic. I could hold my head relatively straight and didn't feel such a tug to raise the left shoulder. So, I went back in Oct. and had another set of shots. This time he did not use the EMG machine, convinced it was one particular muscle group and put one entire vial of botox into that muscle group and the other vial, he spread around. Instead of progressing, I was now somewhere between day one and the second set of shots. Disappointment is an understatement. I'm normally a pretty good golfer. I shoot in the 80's with an occasional 78 or 79. But this year that was not the case. I don't know if I let my mind play games with me or the raising of my left shoulder 4-5 inches because of this affliction has changed my swing. I don't know. But I was routinely shooting 95-105. Not good. Not good at all. Earlier in the year, I had tried to get an appointment with a botox specialist but the wait was 3 months. So, I made an appointment. In the interim, I had the second set of shots, which as I stated above, seemed to really help. I cancelled the other appointment. Big mistake. As I stated, the third set by my first neurologist seemed to make me go backwards. Now my friends say they see an improvement but my neck really gets tired from me fighting the tugging sensation. So, I finally got in with the "specialist" for an consultation. They did some motor tests on me to determine that I hadn't had a stroke or have MS or Parkinson's. It's a lot like a drunk driving test. Since I had my third set of shots in Oct., I couldn't make another appointment until Jan., 2011. My appointment is for Jan. 12. The snow storm hits on Jan. 9. The doctor calls to reschedule the appointment for Monday, Jan. 17. Botox is approved by the insurance company. Delivery is all set for Jan. 11. Fedex and UPS can't get their shipments in for delivery. It will be delivered on Thursday. No Friday. No Monday. Arggggghhhh!!!! My appointment is on Monday at 8am! The doctor's office, understanding my frustration, was able to get a "stash" of botox and when mine arrives, they'll just replenish their "stash" with mine.

Some of you called me with the news that the spasmodic torticollis non-profit had been running new public service ads with the late Dixie Carter. Thank you for that. I called them and they sent me a bunch of info and it was good to know that the doctor I will see on Monday is one of the top specialists listed. Yes! What their info did tell me to do though is to go through physical therapy. They have a DVD that I ordered where you can do the exercises and stretches at home. I ordered that. There are only 300,000 of us out of 300 million people in the US that have some form of spasmodic torticollis. I always knew I was special. During my consultation with the specialist, I asked him what his goal for me was and if anyone had ever been cured. The short answer for the last question is brief-no. He has had A COUPLE of people who can come in every three years or so for shots and then go on their way for another three years or so. But the majority of us will have to undergo treatment every three to four months. He wants me off the Valium (I'll agree with him on that) and he wants the pain that I feel in my shoulder and neck to disappear and for me to be able to hold my head straight. Let's pray that we can get this achieved. I get the shots on Monday and as soon as I get the DVD on the physical therapy, I hope I'm good to go.

Thanks for listening to me. This affliction, although non-life threatening, is a big pain in the neck!

A Review of Freedom a novel by Jonathan Franzen

2011-01-10T14:35:00.000-08:00

I had read so much positive spin about this book before its publication that I decided to buy it. Then Oprah picked it and for me, that was a death knell. Oprah’s books are always about some type of dysfunction be it abuse of any kind, man’s inhumanity to man, all in all depressing. To my dismay, my book club even picked it as a selection. So, I dutifully picked up the book and began to read. Now, the reviews I’ve read have, for the most part, been over the top. It is a multilayered, multifaceted, exquisitely written masterpiece yada yada yada. I’m going to put it this way and use a sort of quote from Uncle Stevie, or in this case Stephen King: Some books you read for the beauty of the written word, some you read for a great story but when you find one that has both, then read with abandon. Freedom has great writing and a great story but unfortunately, not at the same time.

The main focus of the novel revolves around three people, Patty, Walter and Richard. Patty comes from a wealthy but, surprise, surprise, dysfunctional family. Unlike her artistically inclined sisters, she is tall and prefers athletics, particularly basketball. She is very good at it. During college, where an injury ends her basketball career, she meets the “miraculously worthy” Walter Bergland (also from a dysfunctional family), whom she eventually marries, and his roommate, the lothario musician, Richard Katz (also from a dysfunctional family). They soon become an emotional threesome. Walter’s in “love” with Richard’s disdainful ways, Patty’s in love with Richard’s disdainful ways, Walter’s in love with Patty’s winsome ways, Richard’s in love with Patty because he can’t have her because she’s Walter’s. To characterize Walter and Patty better, here is what Franzen says about them: “Walter’s most salient quality, besides his love of Patty, was his niceness.” Patty was “a sunny carrier of sociocultural pollen, an affable bee…famously averse to speaking well of herself or ill of anybody else.” The book is told in sort of novellas. The first part, which I believe is the most brilliantly written part of the book, is told from the perspective of Patty and Walter’s neighbors. It’s sort of like your neighbors telling your life story through gossip. And we learn in quick order that the marriage of the Berglands has gone to smithereens and they’ve moved from Minnesota to Washington, DC, where Walter has gotten himself into some big trouble. The next “novella” is a diary written by Patty about her life and her longing for Richard, the unusual relationship she has with her son, Joey, Joey’s very unusual relationship with the girl next door, and the beginning of the demise of her marriage. The problem with this “autobiography” is that it doesn’t sound like a woman has written it. It is definitely Franzen’s voice. For the remaining novellas, the topics are ALL over the place. We hear from Joey; we hear from Walter; we hear from Richard; and we do hear a great deal from Franzen from atop his soap box. Franzen’s soap box consists of pages and pages of tirades on the loss of bird habitat, the egregious coal industry, the greed of Halliburton Corp, the menace of the Bush/ Cheney presidency, and over population. Franzen doesn’t merely incorporate these topics into the theme of Freedom; he bullies you and beats you over the head with them. And then there are certain aspects of the novel that are just off putting i.e. a 12 year old girl and 10 year old boy having sex, with the girl, as she gets older, characterized as a walking vagina, the now grown boy swallowing his wedding ring and, well, trying to get it out of his excrement with a fork.

Freedom. Freedom from what or to do what? All of the characters crave some sort of “freedom”. Whether it’s from their jobs, from their children, from their spouses, clinging girlfriends, parents, from conventional wisdom, they’re all seeking it. But in Franzen’s world, when they do find the “freedom” they seek, it is unsatisfactory and self-destructive. In the end, most seek reconciliation but don’t always achieve it. There has been so much competition between all of the characters, Walter and Richard for Patty, Patty and Walter for Joey’s affections, Patty and her sisters for their parents’ affections, Patty and Walter’s assistant for Walter, that ranker continues to exist. Whew.

My book club gave it a thumbs down. Amazon readers are pretty well split between 5 stars and 1 star. As the fiction editor for Book World, Ron Charles, puts it, “The point to remember is that Freedom is big enough and thoughtful enough to engage and irritate an enormous numbers of readers.”

A Different Take on the NFL Playoffs

2011-01-09T12:44:00.000-08:00

Just going to have some fun here. If you go by the thinking of the "left" in this country, here's what they might think of the teams' names:

New Orleans Saints- The name "Saints" implies Christianity and we need to be more secular.

Baltimore Ravens, Atlanta Falcons, Philadelphia Eagles, Seattle Seahawks, all of the birds are dieing from man made warming, electrical grids etc and they're literally falling from the sky. These birds will all be dead soon. But maybe by using these names it will bring a renewed effort to save the birds.

Kansas City Chiefs. The name "Chiefs" is derogatory to the Native American Indian.

New York Jets. Jets are nasty machines that pollute the environment and consume fossil fuels.

New England Patriots. Can't have too much patriotism. It shows America's arrogance.

Pittsburg Steelers. Those big factories do nothing but pollute the atmosphere. More "green" houses and buildings need to be built.

Green Bay Packers. Uh oh. Killing animals and eating them. That's two whammies against them.

That leaves the Chicago Bears and the Indianapolis Colts. As far as Chicago is concerned, the name "Bears" can also bring recognition to the plight of the 8 bear species that are on the endangered species list and of course, the poor polar bear, which is losing its habitat. So, lastly we have the Colts. Sweet little horsies. We don't eat them (well, here in the US we don't); we don't use their hides (here in the US we don't); riding them is against the nature of the horse though.
Anybody in the playoffs called "The Fighting Pretzels"? That won't work either because that promotes competition and we can't have that and pretzels have too much sugar and salt....

Just having some fun folks. Just having some fun...

And Then the Fight Started

2010-12-08T14:59:00.000-08:00

One year, I decided to buy my mother-in-law a cemetery plot as a Christmas gift...

The next year, I didn't buy her a gift.

When she asked me why, I replied,

"Well, you still haven't used the gift I bought you last year!"

And that's how the fight started.....

______________________________

My wife and I were watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire while we were in bed.

I turned to her and said, 'Do you want to have Sex?'

'No,' she answered. I then said,

'Is that your final answer?'

She didn't even look at me this time, simply saying, 'Yes..'

So I said, "Then I'd like to phone a friend."

And that's when the fight started...

________________________________

I took my wife to a restaurant.

The waiter, for some reason, took my order first.

"I'll have the rump steak, rare, please."

He said, "Aren't you worried about the mad cow?"

"Nah, she can order for herself."

And that's when the fight started.....

________________________________

My wife and I were sitting at a table at her high school reunion, and she

kept staring at a drunken man swigging his drink as he sat alone at a nearby table.

I asked her, "Do you know him?"

"Yes", she sighed,

"He's my old boyfriend.... I understand he took to drinking right after we

split up those many years ago, and I hear he hasn't been sober since."

"My God!" I said, "Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?"

And then the fight started...

________________________________

When our lawn mower broke and wouldn't run, my wife kept hinting to me

that I should get it fixed. But, somehow I always had something else to take

care of first, the shed, the boat, making beer.. Always something more

important to me. Finally she thought of a clever way to make her point.

When I arrived home one day, I found her seated in the tall grass, busily

snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors. I watched silently for

a short time and then went into the house.. I was gone only a minute, and

when I came out again I handed her a toothbrush. I said, "When you finish

cutting the grass, you might as well sweep the driveway."

The doctors say I will walk again, but I will always have a limp.

________________________________

My wife sat down next to me as I was flipping channels.

She asked, "What's on TV?"

I said, "Dust."

And then the fight started...

________________________________

Saturday morning I got up early, quietly dressed, made my lunch, and

slipped quietly into the garage. I hooked up the boat up to the van, and

proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour. The wind was blowing 50 mph, so I

pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered that the

weather would be bad all day. I went back into the house, quietly

undressed, and slipped back into bed.. I cuddled up to my wife's back, now with a

different anticipation, and whispered, "The weather out there is terrible."

My loving wife of 5 years replied, "And, can you believe my stupid husband

is out fishing in that?"

And that's how the fight started...

________________________________

My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary.

She said, "I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 150 in about 3 seconds."

I bought her a bathroom scale.

And then the fight started......

________________________________

After retiring, I went to the Social Security office to apply for Social Security.

The woman behind the counter asked me for my driver's License to verify my age.

I looked in my pockets and realized I had left my wallet at home.

I told the woman that I was very sorry, but I would have to go home and come back later.

The woman said, 'Unbutton your shirt'.

So I opened my shirt revealing my curly silver hair.

She said, 'That silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me' and she

processed my Social Security application..

When I got home, I excitedly told my wife about my experience at the Social Security office...

She said, 'You should have dropped your pants. You might have gotten disability, too.'

And then the fight started...

Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption by Laura Hillenbrand

2010-12-06T17:39:00.000-08:00

Laura Hillenbrand is the author of the wildly successful Seabiscuit. Some years ago, she was afflicted with a virus which left her with chronic fatigue syndrome. So, all of her research for Seabiscuit was done either doing interviews over the phone or computer research. While doing her research for Seabiscuit, she kept coming across the name of Louie Zamperini. She sees this quote: “the only person who could outrun Seabiscuit was Louis Zamperini”. Intrigued by this quote, she begins to find out who “Louie” is. And does she come across some story.

It begins in Torrence, CA in the 1930’s. Louie is one mess of a boy. Today they’d probably diagnose him as ADD and put him on Ritallin. I digress. The boy is in constant trouble. He plays practical jokes, steals, runs away from home, is truant from school and is, basically, a juvenile delinquent. His older brother, who is the antithesis of Louie, decides that he is going to try and channel Louie’s energy and talks him into getting into sports. Since Louie needs to always run fast from his troubles, he tries out for track. And it turns his life around. Against all odds, as some would say, he tries out and makes the US Olympic team for the 1936 Olympics. He doesn’t live up to his expectations but he does meet Hitler. He is so looking forward to the 1940 Olympics in…Tokyo.

As you can tell from the title, things don’t go too well for Louie after that. He is drafted into the Army Air Corp and becomes a bombardier on a B-24. Here is where Hillenbrand has really done her due diligence on the war in the Pacific. We always hear so much about the European theatre, but here, she makes you feel like you could really be there. And “there” is one place you really don’t want to be. She gives some amazing statistics about how many airmen were downed, not by enemy fire, but simply because of poor plane quality or “lost” because there were no procedures in place to try to find downed airmen in the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Unfortunately for Louie and two other men, they become “lost” at sea for 47 days. Now, if you were a US, English or Australian soldier captured by the Germans and placed in one of their POW camps, your chance of survival was 80%. But, if you were captured by the Japanese, you had a 20% chance of survival. The Japanese didn't believe in surrender and felt if you did, then any punishment they meted out, you deserved. Louie was captured by the Japanese. His internment is one of torture, humiliation, starvation, disease, in other words, truely man's inhumanity to another human being. Louie is sent to an internment camp in Japan. One of the guards finds out that Louie had been in the Olympics and proceeds to make life for Louie pure, unadultered, hell. The guard’s nick name was “the Bird”. Not because he looked like a bird but if they gave him a name that the guard might find humiliating, he would make them pay. Really, really, really pay…How Louie survived is just beyond belief. But he did. The story of Louie’s return, his post traumatic stress disorder, his alcoholism is heartbreaking. How can someone who has been through something so horrendous possibly explain or why even try to explain what his life was like at one of those internment camps? Louie does manage to marry and because of his wife, he survives. His wife doesn’t save him though. The young evangelist, Billy Graham, does. His wife drags him to a revival and Louie hears the message of God and Louie is saved.

Later in life Louie tries to find “the Bird” to forgive him. As the reviewer, I will not tell you what happens. Louie is still alive and kicking at the age of 93. His ordeal made me ponder “the will to live”. What is it that in some people it’s, “That’s it. I can’t take anymore.” And then lie down and die. While others, like Louie, go through life kicking and screaming.

"A master class in narrative storytelling…Extraordinarily moving...A powerfully drawn survival epic."—The Wall Street Journal

Who's the Button Pusher in Your Family?

2010-11-29T17:07:00.000-08:00

I'm not talking about "pushing the buttons" that will tick you off, to irritate you. Or, knowing just what to say to get you started into an argument. I'm talking about when something goes wrong with any appliance in the house, that person's answer to the problem is to start "pushing buttons". Maybe that one button will make everything right. The pushing buttons person in my house is my dear, sweet, much beloved hubby. I have to give him an excuse. He was raised in an apartment building in NYC where, if anything in the apartment stopped working, well, the "super" came to fix it. Then, in his corporate job, if the computer, telephone etc went out, he'd simply call his secretary and she'd either fix it or call someone to do it.

I've become the fixer in the house. Even though I worked full time, I had a job that allowed me to be "the one" to stay at home when a repair man had to come fix something. So, you really do learn something by watching these guys. As I said above, I do love my husband very much. But I have to tell this story about something he did. I wanted to plant a few extra rose bushes in the front of our house so I asked him if he'd dig the holes for me (he being a big hunk of a guy). I told him where I wanted the holes dug. He says that no, he thinks they should be planted "here" because they would look better there. I said that no, we couldn't plant them there because I had seen the cable guy place TV cable lines there. He says, again, that they would look better "here". I again said, rather emphatically, that if he digs there, he will cut the cable lines. He begins to dig "here" and I say, rather emphatically a curse word, and go in the house. I wait 5 minutes and turn on the TV and the cable is no longer working. $75 later....

But, while we were remodeling our house, I did learn something new about him. In the National Guard he'd learned how to work with electricity. He replaced all of the hanging lighting fixtures in our new house. So, he easily made up for the rose incident. But, back to the "pushing of buttons". He can't help, he just can't help it. And then it's "can you come in here, the (fill in the blank) isn't working". I don't mind. Like I said, if you hang around and watch repairmen enough, you do pick up a trick or two. Plus, I do have the patience and I think women have an extra intuition about stuff, that perhaps makes it easier for us to "fix" things. But still, one of the happiest days of my life happened when my husband retired. A repairman had to come over for something and I said, "dear, he'll be here before 8am and 2pm. See ya." Freedom!

This and That, Some You'll Care about Others, Ehhh

2010-11-28T17:58:00.000-08:00

I just finished reading two very good books. One by Laura Hillenbrand of Seabiscuit fame, entitled Unbroken and the other by Markus Zusak entitled The Book Thief. The Book Thief was originally written for adolescents 13+ but any adult will find the book amazing. Both deal with WWII, one in the Pacific theatre and the other with German citizens living in a small suburb of Munich. In Unbroken, the protagonist is an Olympic runner, turned bombardier, turned Japanese prisoner, turned tortured soul, turned Christian. In the second you have a 13 year old girl whose brother dies in her arms, to be given up to foster parents, to live through the saturation bombings of the allies and all that implies. Plus, it's narrated by death. I think I'll go watch A Fish Called Wanda. Fettuccine, lasagna, risotto, marinara...

I found this very interesting. Homeland security has two new acronyms: OTM, Other Than Mexican, and SIA, Special Interest Alien, meaning from a country known to harbour or train terrorists. Apparently the Homeland Security Agency feels there's a need to create these acronyms because...they're concerned about SIA's crossing into the US over the US/Mexico border.

I am continually amazed at the success of Oprah. I am way beyond proud of her because she has exceeded the American dream. She did it her way and based on what she had going for her growing up, way to go Oprah. But this adulation women feel toward her constantly amazes. When I look at her magazine, at the news stand only, a great majority of what is in the magazine is what OPRAH HAS and what OPRAH CAN AFFORD. One lead said "Get a private look into Oprah's fabulous mansion in Hawaii". Or take her favorite things. I looked at many of her "favorite things" and most American women can not afford them. Oprah just isn't for me. But she does top the list of the most charitable givers in the US and guess who's fourth? That lovable fuzz ball, Rush Limbaugh.

Since my daughter has moved to London and I love Monty Python, I found this great site, thedailysquib.co.uk. My goodness. Did you know a US TSA agent got an STD from aggressively patting down Paris Hilton? Shameful really...

If you're not watching Boardwalk Empire or In Treatment on HBO, shame on you. My husband and I had a big disagreement with another couple about Boardwalk Empire. We believe Nucky Thompson is only nookying Mrs. Schroeder to keep her out of the way and use her. Our friends believe he's trying to find the lost sophistication of his late wife. Since there's only two episodes left for the season, maybe the truth shall emerge. As far as In Treatment. Gabriel Byrne is one hot psychologist. Each season Dr. Weston sees three patients each with a half hour session. Then, he himself, sees a therapist to straighten himself out. Encouraging, isn't it? The second season with Blair Underwood was the best so far....

Go forth and enjoy your holiday season. With or without the help of me or Oprah...

More Willard than Ratatouille

2010-11-16T16:59:00.000-08:00

We don't have a sweet little mouse who makes yummy soups and keeps my kitchen running smoothly. We've got a WILLARD (I know Willard was a rat, but that's what I consider my intruder). Willard, like Ratatouille, has fine taste. He chose as his first home the inside of my Mercedes convertible. He also likes sports. He spent a great deal of time in our travel golf bags, no doubt trying to find his way to Pebble Beach. He must also like tennis although not the tennis balls he found in the garage. He slowly but surely defuzzed each one. Too cheap for Willard, I guess. But above all, he has been spending a great deal of time at Starbucks. He must have a gold card and received many free drinks because we found many Starbucks' receipts in his nest. But, alas, all came to an end with this free arrangement because he ate one too many of my wires and like a bank, I foreclosed on him, and blocked his re-entry into his house. What's a mouse to do? Become a homeless squatter, that's what. Willard now lives under the driver's seat of my husband's Lexus. That's right. He's got himself a nice little nest and a nice place to poop anytime he wants.

But not for long. I will say Willard is one sneaky and fast little rodent. We put 4 mouse traps in the garage using peanut butter as bait. We went into the garage this morning and all the peanut butter was gone but no Willard. We did figure out how he was getting in the garage. The bottom of the garage doors has a rubber stripping for sealing against rain. Willard, that little darling, just gnawed his way through one corner. It is now sealed with metal stripping. As far as my husband's car is concerned, I saw an ad on TV that has been advertising a mouse trap that alleviates the unpleasant sight of seeing your dead mouse smushed. So, this trap is like being in an old horror movie in that once you walk through the door, whap! the door closes behind you and you can't get out. You just take the contraption and throw it in the trash. You PETA people hush up. Willard cost me and the insurance company $2000 (which will raise YOUR insurance premiums) and has ripped out the stuffing of my husband's driver's seat. Plus, and I know my husband won't appreciate this, but when my husband found out he had the mouse in his car (by seeing the gnawed remains of some receipts and poop), he, well, he backed out of the garage too quickly and, well, scraped the side of his car. One of the above mentioned contraptions is now under the seat in his car.

You may be laughing but the tech at the dealership and the insurance guy both told us this is not unusual. That once the weather begins to turn, the rodents, whether rats, mice or squirrels, will always try and find a warm spot. And sometimes that just happens to be inside your car or under the hood. Those yummy wires and tennis balls and receipts, oh my. They said at least 3-4 times a month they have to tell the client, "Mr. or Mrs. Ratrap, you've got a rodent problem".

I'll keep you posted on the hunt for Willard...

Death, Insurmountable Odds, Sex with Cannibals...Books of Adventure

2010-10-22T18:35:00.000-07:00

My father was a bomber pilot in WWII and was stationed in New Guinea and the Philippines. As a child I remember looking at pictures of his time in that area. He then became a member of the Air Force Reserve. And while my sisters and I remained in our little town in central Texas, my dad was flying to England, Hawaii, Taiwan, Goose Bay Labrador, Panama etc. I always envied him his life of travel. Because of him, my mantra in life has always been that if God put it on this earth, I want to see it. So, knowing full well I can’t go everywhere nor can I go back in time, I began reading nonfiction adventure books that, in many cases, would take me where no man has gone before (sorry, I’m a Star Trek fan).

The largest group of adventure books deals with seafaring. They are not my favorite but I have read some really very good sit on the edge of your seat narratives. Seafaring was the way in which civilizations learned of other civilizations, and when many of those civilizations were discovered, it brought them to their demise. When I go on a trip to someplace that I’ve not been before, I always like to try and read a book about that place. My husband and I decided to go on a cruise to French Polynesia. Now, I know that many of our generation has either seen the Marlon Brando or Mel Gibson movie versions of Mutiny on the Bounty. But I decided I wanted to know the truth as far as you could learn the truth. So, if you’re interested in the entire story of the Bounty, from Fletcher Christian setting Captain Bligh and his non mutineering sailors adrift to the very, very, very end of the saga, read The Bounty, by Caroline Alexander. Another fascination of mine is Captain Cook. So, I read Tony Horowitz’s Blue Latitudes, Boldly Going Where Captain Cook Has Gone Before. One chapter is Captain Cook’s diary and the next chapter is Horowitz’s visit and the subsequent change in that area due to Cook’s visit. In other words, like the American Indian, the Maori and the Aborigines came under the thumb of European adventurers and their religions.

If I keep on in this vein, this book review will be 20 pages long. Here is a list of some of my favorite “adventure” books and a short synopsis (and, yes, I’ve read them all):

In the Heart of the Sea by Dick Philbuck: Herman Melville based Moby Dick on this true story. Whalers from Nantucket must sail to the Pacific for whale hunting, only to have their boat capsized by a whale and then endure terrible suffering of dehydration, starvation and cannibalism.

Into Africa: the Epic Adventures of Stanley and Livingstone by Martin Dugrad. Want to know what really happened in the deepest and darkest of Africa? Lots of flesh rot, disease, and leeches. I LOVED it!

Lost City of Z: A Tale of Deadly Obsession in the Amazon by David Grann: England’s greatest explorer, Percy Fawcett, goes to the Amazon to find the lost gold city of Z. I hear it’s being made into a movie. Fawcett was one crazy dude. Time after time he goes into the Amazon and returns almost dead and empty handed. But…on his “proclaimed” last trip, does he find the city, does he come out alive….?

A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson: Laugh out loud, slap your knee adventure into the Appalachians with Bryson and the only fool he could find to walk the ENTIRE trail with him, his out of shape, recovering addict buddy. It is hysterical.

The Man Who Would be King: The First American in Afghanistan by Ben Macintyre: Rudyard Kipling based his short story on Josiah Harlan, an American dumped by his fiancé and instead of burying his head in the sand, decides he is going to be king of an unknown country. And, he does. Harlan lived in the mid to late 1800’s and what’s fascinating is that when he talks about Afghanistan, he could be talking about today.

Sex Lives of Cannibals by J. Maarten Troost: He follows his wife, who works for the UN, to the tiny South Pacific island of Kiribati. It is travel writing at its funniest and at its best. He also wrote Getting Stoned with Savages. It’s another good chuckle of a read. Mindless stuff, really, but perfect beach reading…

Others of note: Ship of Gold in the Deep Blue Sea by Gary Kinder; A Voyage Long and Strange by Tony Horowitz; Undaunted Courage by Stephen Ambrose; Dark Star Safari by Paul Theroux; Skeletons on the Zahara by Dean King.

So, I will end with this quote: “It is only in adventure that some people succeed in knowing themselves - in finding themselves.”

André Gide

Bloody 'ell, London is a Bomb....Expensive

2010-10-18T17:25:00.000-07:00

Good ev'nin Luv....A typical greeting by a driver of a "black" taxi. I think the first time I went to London was 1978 or '79. I used to sponsor students on tours to England and "the continent". Over the years I either went to England with my husband and daughter on family trips, on his business trips or a stop over on the way to Africa. I remember that first trip and while at the British Museum of History, I saw the "bobbies" walking amongst the cars with long poles with mirrors on the end looking for bombs underneath the cars. The Irish Republican Army was still causing death and destruction. Then we went a week after the death of Princess Diana. I usually just throw on some good walking shoes and walk my rear off. Well, I went from Buckingham Palace to Kensington Palace etc etc and the photos I got of all of the teddy bears, flowers, candles, makeshift alters for Diana...well, it was heartbreaking. Then, 5 or 6 years ago, I went during the celebration of the Queen Mum's 100th birthday. Didn't realize it at the time but soon found out. I had decided to go to the "new" Tate Museum of Modern Art. Why I don't know. I hate modern art. Well, luv, indeed, it was not my cup of tea. I went down into the subway station to catch the "tube" back to my hotel. The doors of the train would not open and a man with a very, very proper English accent came on the loudspeaker and said, "would you please vacate the station immediately". Well, I'm not thinking IRA. I'm thinking Al Qaeda. It was the IRA. They have a secret code that they use to call in bomb threats to the police so the police can authenticate that it is, indeed, the IRA. They had put 8 or so bombs along the rail system so they could...disrupt the Queen Mum's birthday celebration. Well, that they did. The city was at a gridlock.

So, flash forward to this month. My daughter has decided to take a job in London. I go over to help her look for a place. This is not an easy process. Like most big cities, there are tons of varying neighborhoods, each with its own ambiance and level of safety. Speaking of safety. Remember my mentioning the "bobbies" with the mirrors? There are probably more cameras in London than there are in Hollywood. There is virtually a camera on every corner. Al Qaeda anyone? Then there is no MLS, multiple listing system. Each landlord lists his property with one or two agents. You have to go from letting agent to letting agent and each one has different properties. And then there is the expense. The dollar sucks compared to most currencies. Well, maybe not the Zimbabwe dollar. You get 376 ZD for every 1 USD. For every 1 USD, you get .62GBP (British pounds). So, for a 400 square ft. apartment with no closet space, maybe a cook top and one of those combination washer/dryer thingees, you pay for a half decent place in a half decent neighborhood around $525 PER WEEK! Now, that's if you're looking in central London. Which she had been doing. There's a large expat community in London and they all recommended that as a newbie, it would be beneficial for her to live close in to work. She did end up finding a great little place, full of light with hardwood floors in a nice residential neighborhood but only a few blocks from the famous Portobello street and a minute and a half walk to the tube, which is a direct line to work. She moves in in mid-Nov. The place is furnished. Well, sort of. So, she's there and we're here setting up Skype and video cameras and microphones so we can keep in touch. I had always told my husband that if the airlines he's worked with over the years ever asked him to move overseas for a temp assignment, I'd be there. Well, for our daughter, this isn't a temp assignment. But all we want for her is to be happy. And if London does that, then cheerio and pip pip and lead me to the house of silly walks....On my next blog, I'll tell you about all of the fun taxes the Brits put up with. 17.5% VAT anyone?

Fall of Giants by Ken Follett or as I'd call it: Fall of a Giant

2010-10-11T16:54:00.000-07:00

With this novel, you see the fall of a great writer. I enjoy Follett's books but with this one he has fallen way short of his lofty goals. The problem is with the main characters. They are WWI, socialism and a woman's right to vote. These are the main characters not Fitzherbert, Maude, Ethel, Walter, Gus, Bernie, Grigori, Lev etc. These characters exist only to spout the platitudes of socialism or the reasons for or reasons against a woman's right to vote. There is some gratuitous sex thrown in but then it's yada yada yada with men debating strategies for battles or Lenin pontificating or lengthy sermons on the beauty of socialism. The human characters are caricatures, Fitz, the pompous vain Lord of the manor, Ethel, the servant girl who is very smart but still falls for Fitz and of course finds herself pregnant, Maud, the strong willed woman who gives as good as she gets and Billy, the uneducated coal minor who outsmarts his colonels and generals. If you are into WWI and are also interested in the beginnings of socialism, this book is for you. This is not Pillars of the Earth or World without End where you actually learn to care about the characters. Unfortunately there are two more of these tomes coming out. No sir re bob. I'm not buying them. Of the 340 reviews on Amazon, 229, like me, gave it a single star*...

Half a Life

2010-09-25T17:05:00.000-07:00

In the early 1970's my boyfriend, soon to be husband and later my ex, and I were coming home from a "dance" at about 2am. Now, where I'm from, there aren't any nightclubs or discos. If you wanted to go hear music and dance, you went to one of a myriad of VFW or Legion Halls or one of the many "dance halls" owned by the local Catholic churches for their church picnics, which invariably had a "dance". And these roads are all unlit and two lane. My boyfriend was driving. As we began to crest a hill, right in the middle of the road was an accident that had not been moved out of the way. They had no lights on. We hit the accident which propelled one of the cars into one of the drivers who had been standing in front of it. He was seriously injured and since this was pre-seat belts, I hit the windshield and was also taken to the hospital. Luckily for me, I escaped with just a bad gash on the forehead. Later, the guy who was seriously injured was given a DUI and fined by a judge. 6 months later my boyfriend finds out he is being sued by the DUI guy and who was his attorney? The judge who gave him the DUI. He had some brain damage and was suing for future lost wages. He wanted $75,000. I remember thinking, that's what he thinks he'll earn in a life time, $75,000? It's likely the attorney felt that was all he could get. I really don't remember what the insurance company paid him but it wasn't $75,000. We were very lucky in that there were no fatalities.

First Lady Laura Bush and writer Darin Strauss weren't so fortunate. I believe that during the many campaigns that Laura Bush has gone through, the accident she was involved in which killed a boy from her school was repeatedly brought up. In her memoir she talks about how it still affects her life. The guilt she feels. But she doesn't go into the depth of those feelings. In Darin Strauss' book, "Half a Life", he does. The opening line of the book: " Half my life ago, I killed a girl." He was an 18 year old senior, accepted to college, and he and his friends were going somewhere to do something. He was not drunk. He was not on drugs. He as not fiddling with the radio. But as he says, it doesn't matter where they were going because of what happened along the way. He saw the girls on their bikes. It was a four lane road and he was in the left lane and the girl and her friend were on the shoulder on the right. Within seconds one of the girls has veered across two lanes directly in front of his car. And she's killed. Her name was Celine Zilke and she was 16 and she went to the same school. Strauss went to Celine’s funeral, where he received a hug — “a clenching of her body, a steeling herself for something personally odious” — from Celine’s mother. “ ‘I know it was not your fault, Darin. They all tell me it was not your fault. . . . But I want you to remember something. Whatever you do in your life, you have to do it twice as well now.’ Her voice went dim. ‘Because you are living it for two people.’ Her face was a picture of the misery that had worn out the voice. ‘Can you promise me? Promise.’ ” They said they would never blame him but went on to sue anyway. The suit was settled for the minimum the insurance company would pay out.

The book really is a muddle. That's because that's the way he feels. Muddled. Is he supposed to feel this way or that way? What is he to say or not say? Should he write what he thinks we want him to write and say or should he tell the unvarnished truth, which may not be pretty? Will he always be the kid who "killed" Celine Zilke? Yes, yes he will. About halfway through the book he says: “We’d had the accident at the age when your identity is pretty much up for grabs. Before it, I hadn’t been so introspective; I’d had nothing to introspect about.” Notice the use of the pronoun "we"? Should he tell new girlfriends? He did tell some. Most mothered him. He says he hated their reactions: "They patted, deferred, nuzzled. They forgave...ah, he's like this because of THAT." He finds that his life really becomes defined by what Mrs Zilke had asked of him. Before, he had been an indifferent student but once he got to college, he tried to be "two". He thought of Celine daily. Toward the end of the memoir his wife asks him if he still thinks daily of Celine. He balks and says, "Hard to believe that it's down to once a week now...It sounds sh*tty coming out of my mouth." Then he reads an article in the Sept. 2009 New York Times about Complicated Grief Therapy. It's basically where the therapist forces the patient to relive the details of the death, making them repeat minutiae of their pain into a tape recorder in front of the analyst. Then the patient listens to it every day for months, for years. "The goal is to show that grief, like the tape, can be picked up or put away," the article said. Darin doesn't do this. But what Darin did do is write this book. To him, this is his tape recorder. In the end he realizes, "what I hated in myself, for more than half my life now, was feeling lucky for being alive. For not being blamed...the accident has formed me...but I now can so no to the blistering hurt...I can say to myself..it's all right to smile at the faces you love."

An Atheist is Walking Thru the Woods...

2010-09-09T12:39:00.000-07:00

Does God have a sense of humor or what?

An atheist was walking through the woods.

'What majestic trees!'

'What powerful rivers!'

'What beautiful animals!'

He said to himself.

As he was walking alongside the river, he heard a rustling in the

bushes behind him.

He turned to look. He saw a 7-foot grizzly bear charge towards him.

He ran as fast as he could up the path. He looked over his shoulder &

saw that the bear was closing in on him.

He looked over his shoulder again, & the bear was even closer.

He tripped & fell on the ground.

He rolled over to pick himself up but saw that the bear was right on

top of him, reaching for him with his left paw & raising his right paw

to strike him.

At that instant moment, the Atheist cried out:

'Oh my God!'

Time stopped.

The bear froze.

The forest was silent.

As a bright light shone upon the man, a voice came out of the sky.

'You deny my existence for all these years, teach others I don't exist

and even credit creation to cosmic accident.'

'Do you expect me to help you out of this predicament?'

'Am I to count you as a believer?'

The atheist looked directly into the light, and said: 'It would be

hypocritical of me to suddenly ask you to treat me as a Christian now,

but perhaps you could make the BEAR a Christian?'

'Very well', said the voice.

The light went out. The sounds of the forest resumed. And the bear

dropped his right paw, brought both paws together, bowed his head &

spoke:

'Lord bless this food, which I am about to receive from Thy bounty

through Christ our Lord, Amen.'

If You Read One Western in Your Life, This Should Be It...

2010-09-06T18:28:00.000-07:00

Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry (25th Anniversary)

A genre in the writing world that has fallen into the dust bin and sold for 25 cents at garage sales is that of the Western. Once a staple of American writing from the 2 penny booklets sold during the 1800’s to Zane Grey to Louis L’Amour, it seems the genre has disappeared. You have some novels that are sort of set in the west like Cormac McCarthy’s Border trilogy or his No Country for Old Men (all placed in the southwest and Mexico). But if there is a western you should pick up and read, it’s Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove. Here’s a wonderful quote from the one and only Stephen King on what you should read: “There are books full of great writing that don't have very good stories. Read sometimes for the story... don't be like the book-snobs who won't do that. Read sometimes for the words--the language. Don't be like the play-it-safers who won't do that. But when you find a book that has both a good story and good words, treasure that book." And that is Lonesome Dove. Both a great story and it is beautifully written. Published in 1985, it won the Pulitzer Prize for Literature in 1986 and it is celebrating its 25th anniversary this year.

The opening pages are like many fine novels or fine wines. It takes a while to breathe. Look at the first few lines: “When Augustus came out on the porch the blue pigs were eating a rattlesnake-not a very big one. It had probably just been crawling around looking for shade when it ran into the pigs. They were having a fine tug-of-war with it, and its rattling days were over. The sow had it by the neck, and the shoat by the tail.” And the novel continues in this vein for about 100 pages. Let me set the tale. Lonesome Dove is a small settlement way into West Texas on the Rio Grand River. It is hot. It is dusty. It is lonesome. Life is slow. It takes some getting used to if you do at all. It is populated with the fringe elements. Two old retired Texas Rangers, Captain Woodrow Call, a taciturn, stoic, stubborn, dead set in his ways kind of guy, and Augustus or Gus, a womanizer, hard drinker, philosopher and an old softy, are the primary characters. But they are surrounded by a wonderful and vast cast of characters: Lorena or as Gus calls her “Lorri darlin”, the prostitute with a heart of gold, Deets, their black side kick who has been with them for years, Jake Spoon, a womanizer with a selfish heart, and the evil half breed, Blue Duck. McMurtry starts the book slowly to showcase the setting as well as the dullness of life at Lonesome Dove. Then he creates a catalyst that propels these characters into love, danger, death, betrayal, extreme violence, and rebirth.

The catalyst is a trail ride which is thought up, pushed and fought hard for by Captain Call. This would be the first of its kind from Texas to the Montana territories. Of course Gus thinks Call is crazy but he’s as bored as Call. Their old ranger buddy, Jake (handsome devil that he is), shows up, he usurps Gus in Lorena’s affections, the long trail ride begins and it immediately starts with tragedy. Then Katy bar the door because all hell breaks loose. Their mission really is pointless and in the scope of things, insignificant. But it showcases the heroics of the human character as well as its frailties, the selfishness as well as the generosity of the human spirit and finally the proverbial evil versus good. And for those who are just looking for a good story, you’ve got all kinds of bad….Indians, Mexicans, horse thieves, buffalo hunters, and even a female town bully. Wild chases, hangings, arrow pierced bodies, and the downright beauty of big sky Montana and the plains of Kansas.

This great novel was made into a fabulous miniseries starring Tommy Lee Jones as Call, Robert Duvall as Gus, Diane Lane as Lorena, Robert Urich as Jake, and Danny Glover as Deets. Other cast members of note: Angelica Huston, Chris Cooper, Rick Schroder, Barry Corbin, and Steve Buscemi.

This says it all: “If you read only one western novel in your life, read Lonesome Dove.”—USA Today

Things That Irritate, Flumox, and Down Right P*ss Me Off

2010-08-18T17:50:00.000-07:00

I can not tolerate trying to be a nice person by holding open a door for someone and they just march right through as if you were the doorman. I often say, "Your welcome" to let them know how rude they are. And that means you, lady, at Nordstrom's on Saturday...

People who throw cig butts out of the window when they have a perfectly good ashtray in the car and then the butt hits your window!

You want to turn left at a light where there is a left turn lane. But you can't get in the lane because the people going straight have two cars lengths in front of them. Move up!

The young people of today are not being taught manners. I had a young man, who saw me entering, walk in front of me, and then let the door slam in my face. Up yours kid...

When you are at a checkout counter being helped and the clerk then answers the phone and spends time helping that person or takes a personal call and begins to do their nails. I can see George Costanza slapping his hand on the counter and screaming, "Customer service here, customer service here!"

People who don't put their shoes away leaving multiple pairs of shoes, sneakers, and flip flops around (submitted by my spouse) Sorry, dear. I'll make a concerted effort...

Drivers, while stopped behind another car at a light or stop sign, slowly creep creep creep to within inches of the car in front. I got hit by a guy doing this. (submitted by me about my spouse) After much back seat driving, he still does this...

Constant calls by political parties for donations. I'll donate when I'm ready thank you. I love that feature with some phone, TV packages that show the number of the caller on the TV screen. Don't even have to bother to look at the phone...

Press one for English dos por espanol...Pretty soon it's going to be press uno por espanol and two for English...

Customer service people who try to placate your anger by saying "I understand ", when they really are trying to calm you down because they know they work for a sh*t company!

People who truncate your name. Why? Tiger Woods always does it. Strik for Stricker etc. The most notable President Bush calling whatshisname with FEMA, Brownie.

People who chew gum and snap it AND have their mouth open. We can hear you! And see those crowns and those filled teeth and possibly dentures. Yuck!

People who realize at the last minute they want to exit and cross two lanes on a busy freeway to do so. Get off at the next exit, you jerk!

Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid. Enough said. John Boehner's perpetual tan. Al Gore's no eyebrows. Sarah Palin's "You betcha".

But what's really p*ssing me off is that nothing, nothing has changed in Washington DC. And here's a poll, and there are many others, that report the same..The Rasmussen Reports daily Presidential Tracking Poll for Wednesday shows that 27% of the nation's voters Strongly Approve of the way that Barack Obama is performing his role as president. Forty-four percent (44%) Strongly Disapprove, giving Obama a Presidential Approval Index rating of -17 (see trends). Just 37% of voters believe their own representative in Congress deserves to be re-elected. Thirty-nine percent disagree. Just 27% say their own representative is the best person for the job. Overall, 62% say it would be better for the country if most incumbents are defeated in November. Sixty-five percent (65%) of voters are angry at the policies of the federal government.

I am not alone folks. I am not alone...

The Black Bra (So Very Very Sad)

2010-08-17T13:19:00.000-07:00

I had lunch with 2 of my unmarried friends.

One is engaged, one is a mistress, and I have been married for 20+ years.

We were chatting about our relationships and decided to amaze our men by greeting them at the door

Wearing a black bra, stiletto heels and a mask over our eyes. We agreed to meet in a few days to exchange notes..

Here's how it all went.

My engaged friend:

The other night when my boyfriend came over he found me with a black leather bodice, tall stilettos and a mask.

He saw me and said, 'You are the woman of my dreams.

I love you.' Then we made passionate love all night long.

The mistress:

Me too! The other night I met my lover at his office and I was wearing a raincoat, under it only the black bra, heels and

Mask over my eyes. When I opened the raincoat he didn't say a word, but he started to tremble and we had wild sex all night.

Then I had to share my story:

When my husband came home I was wearing the black bra,

Black stockings, stilettos and a mask over my eyes.

When he came in the door and saw me he said,

"What's for dinner, Zorro?"

I'm Just Saying...

2010-08-11T10:46:00.000-07:00

I love Spain. I've been there several times to visit my daughter while she went to the University of Seville for her semester abroad or on cruise ship stops. I can understand why Michelle Obama picked Spain as a vacation destination. But she went way over the line with the expensive hotel and all of her guests. It just doesn't look good when so many people in the US are out of work and struggling to stay above water financially. Her lack of sensitivity had one newspaper writer dub her Marie Antoinette. Some said, well, she's helping the much financially troubled Spain out with her spending. She's not the Queen of Spain. She's the first lady of the US. She should have taken her entourage to Las Vegas (much maligned by her husband) or a long vacation to the gulf coast. Yes, I know. They're going to take a short visit there, but I'm just saying she should have stayed in the US and spent our money and their money here. I'm just saying...

Speaking of Michelle my Belle, what was that all about when SIR Paul McCartney made his unseemly remarks at the Gershwin Awards awarded by the Library of Congress? Here's what he said: "It's a fantastic honor for the Gershwin family to give me this incredible award and for me to be awarded it by the Library of Congress. And, in fact, after the last eight years, it's great to have a president who knows what a library is." Well, SIR Paul, President Bush was one of the most well read president's in the history of presidents. And SIR Paul, you're not exactly a great brain trust. What an idiot to be worth so many many millions and not have a pre-nup.  I'm just saying...

Tiger Woods and his new goatee...Keep it. It makes you look like the slime bucket you are.  I'm just saying...

Heard on CNN's Cafferty Report that in 2009, 60,000 children were born in Texas to illegal aliens. Those 60,000 children are now US citizens. Almost all of the money made by these illegals goes home to Mexico while we, the taxpayers, foot the bill for their health care, schooling etc. The law that lets this happen is the 14th amendment to the constitution. "The Fourteenth Amendment (Amendment XIV) to the United States Constitution was adopted on July 9, 1868 as one of the Reconstruction Amendments. Its Citizenship Clause provides a broad definition of citizenship that overruled the decision in Dred Scott v. Sandford (1857), which held that blacks could not be citizens of the United States (Wikipedia)". I'm just saying that we need some major major immigration reform in this country. The government has the largest deficit in history, looks like all kinds of taxes are going up (tanning beds anyone), and our hospitals and schools are overrun with illegals not paying taxes. I'm just saying something has got to be done...

I love the way the Obama administration picks and chooses what it wishes to fight for. It fights Arizona for trying to up hold a US law. Suing them, actually. For trying to uphold the law. But in turn allows cities like San Fran to be a "safe haven" city which clearly breaks the law.   As the glib Mr. Robert Gibbs, the greatest press secretary of all time, said about the mosque controversy in Manhattan, the white house "Won't 'Re adjudicate' A Local Issue". They won't re adjudicate the mosque decision or San Fran's decision but they will re adjudicate Arizona's law. I'm just saying, something ain't right here...

You're An EXTREME Redneck When.....

2010-08-10T13:03:00.000-07:00

1. You let your 14-year-old daughter smoke at the dinner table … in front of her kids.

2. The Blue Book value of your truck goes up and down depending on how much gas is in it.

3. You've been married three times and still have the same in-laws.

4. You think a woman who is out of your league bowls on a different night.

5. You wonder how service stations keep their rest-rooms so clean.

6. Someone in your family died right after saying 'Hey, guys, watch this...'

7. You think Dom Perignon is a Mafia leader.

8. Your wife's hairdo was once ruined by a ceiling fan.

9. Your junior prom offered day care.

10. You think the last words of the Star-Spangled Banner are 'Gentlemen, start your engines'.

11. You lit a match in the bathroom and your house exploded right off its wheels.

12. The Halloween pumpkin on your porch has more teeth than your spouse.

13. You have to go outside to get something from the fridge.

14. One of your kids was born on a pool table.

15. You need one more hole punched in your card to get a freebie at the House of Tattoos.

16. You can't get married to your sweetheart because there's a law against it.

17. You think loading the dishwasher means getting your wife drunk.

Purge, by Sofi Oksanen: A Book Review

2010-07-28T18:06:00.000-07:00

This book isn't about anorexia or bulimia or the occasional colon cleanse. Purge is a book of two voices that takes us through the tumultuous times of WWII, the communist occupation of eastern Europe and into the uncertainty of Soviet life in the 1990's. It does not take place in Russia but in the little known country of Estonia. Estonia is a country in the Baltic Region of Northern Europe. It is bordered to the north by the Gulf of Finland, to the west by the Baltic Sea, to the south by Latvia (343 km), and to the east by the Russian Federation. But this story could have been placed in any country that had been occupied by the Germans and then the Soviets. I'm going to do an aside here. My husband and I visited Moscow a year ago and wanted to go to the National Museum of Military History. We wanted to hear the Russian's "take" on things. Our guide, Olga, informed us that when the Russians finally drove the Germans back across the Germans' eastern front that they, the Soviets, liberated the countries that the Germans had occupied. Ok then. We rolled our eyes. Just ask those "liberated" people how they liked it and you will see just how much in "Purge". The two voices are that of Aliide, born in the 1920's, in Estonia in a small village. The second voice is that of Zara, born in Vladivostok, Russia, sometime in the late 1970's. The two voices meet in 1992 when Zara escapes from her brutal pimp, Pasha, who had lured her from Russia with promises of making great money but instead is forced into being a sex slave in Germany. Zara shows up on Aliide's doorstep. Each is suspicious of the other. The difference between the two is that Zara knows who Aliide is. Aliide, on the other hand, having been through German and Soviet occupations, thinks Zara is a possible thief, a liar, a "front" to scope out what she may have or what she is thinking. Aliide trusts no one. That's because she, herself, can not be trusted. Aliide's secret is that all of her adult life she has had an obsession with a man...her sister Ingel's husband, Hans Pekk. She would do anything to keep Hans in her life. She yearned and ached for him. While Hans yearned and ached for his wife. The story moves back and forth from the present to the future and back again to give you an idea of what has molded Aliide's character, which on the surface is very unsympathetic. Zara's story is primarily about the brutal life being forced on her by her pimp. The author really tries to bring to the forefront the luring of young girls into the lurid life of a sex slave in today's world. Yes, today's world. Will Aliide turn Zara back over to Pasha as she and many of her comrades were forced to turn over their friends or family members during the occupations? You can never be sure what Aliide will do if or when Pasha actually does show up at her door.

Here is NPR's take on the novel: "Set in 1992, only three years removed from the joyful optimism undammed by the demolition of the Berlin Wall, Purge burns through the mists to show how decades of debasement have twisted society in the former USSR into one characterized by crime and cruelty. Oksanen couches this larger theme within a tight, unconventional crime novel, one punctuated by dreadful silences, shameful revelations and repellent intimacies. By examining the toll of history on a close, personal level, Oksanen, an acclaimed Finnish playwright and novelist, examines the cost of mere survival (never mind the price of retaining one's dignity)."

It's a 5* read for me....

Fortunate

2010-07-23T14:49:00.000-07:00

The dictionary defines someone who is "fortunate" as someone who is lucky. Back in the '60's during the Viet Nam war, Creedence Clearwater Revival wrote a song called "Fortunate Son". "It ain't me , it ain't me, I ain't no Senator's son, son. It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate one, no". So, if you were a Senator's son or a millionaire's son, you ain't going to Nam. I'm going to discuss the "fortunate" or "lucky" people out there with MONEY. Moolah. There are those that are "fortunate" due to the circumstances of their birth or perhaps by winning the big jackpot lottery. Or, as Malcolm Gladwell wrote in his book "Outtliers", there are people who are "fortunately" born during a time that fits their particular prowess or intellect or born into a family that cares about their children's well being etc. Bill Gates alluded to this during a question and answer session at the Harvard School of Business along with his good buddy Warren Buffet. One of the MBA students asked him how much of his fortune was brought about by luck. He said: " Luck played an immense role. Some of it came after I entered the business world, but my lucky streak started much earlier than that. I was fortunate to have family and teachers who encouraged me. Children often thrive when they get that kind of attention.I was incredibly lucky to become boyhood friends with Paul Allen, whose insights proved crucial to the success of the company we founded together. Without Paul, there would have been no Microsoft.Our timing in setting up the first software company aimed at personal computers was essential to our success. The timing wasn't entirely luck, but without great luck it couldn't have happened." So, according to Gladwell, Gates' luck was being born to parents who cared, making a friend who had the same propensity as he, and timing. Not so many people have had as much "luck" as Mr. Gates.

There are people, such as my father, who grew up during the depression, with absolutely no money, poor health, and his "luck" was that he was smart enough to get into the pilot training program in the Army Air Corp during WWII. He then had the fall back of remaining in the Air Force reserves once he was out IF his other endeavors failed. My father worked very hard to achieve success in a small town where very little opportunity existed. He became a rancher, small business owner and then the president of my hometown bank. There are hundreds of thousands of stories like this where people start small businesses and then become successful albeit not along the lines as Bill Gates. Not even close.

OK. Are you ready? This is where I'm going with this. Tim Geithner, our US Treasury Secretary, says that the Congress should let the Bush tax cuts expire for those making over $200,000 for individuals and over $250,000 for joint filers because they are "fortunate". "We believe it is appropriate to let those tax cuts that go to the most fortunate expire," Mr. Geithner said at a breakfast with reporters, hosted by the Christian Science Monitor. This is going to have a devastating effect on the small businesses in America. Why? Because 35% of small business owners file their business income on their PERSONAL INCOME TAX reports. These higher tax rates could raise taxes on 45 to 55 percent of small business income.* If you don't believe how important small businesses are to the US just look at this:

Small firms:

• Represent 99.7 percent of all employer firms.

• Employ just over half of all private sector employees.

• Pay 44 percent of total U.S. private payroll.

• Have generated 64 percent of net new jobs over the past 15 years.

• Create more than half of the nonfarm private gross domestic product (GDP).

• Hire 40 percent of high tech workers (such as scientists, engineers, and computer programmers).

• Are 52 percent home-based and 2 percent franchises.

• Made up 97.3 percent of all identified exporters and produced 30.2 percent of the known export value in FY 2007.

• Produce 13 times more patents per employee than large patenting firms; these patents are twice as likely as large firm patents to be among the one percent most cited.**

So, for those of you with "wealth" envy and say that those making over $200,000 or $250,000 a year are "fortunate", look around you. Do you see Bill Gates or Warren Buffett or Barbara Streisand? No. Chances are you are looking at a small business owner that is the back bone of this country. Fortunate my tush...

*The Tax Foundation, Small Business and the Personal Income Tax Rates by Robert Carroll
**Source: U.S. Dept. of Commerce, Bureau of the Census and International Trade Admin.; Advocacy-funded research by Kathryn Kobe, 2007 (www.sba.gov/advo/research/rs299tot.pdf) and CHI Research, 2003 (www.sba.gov/advo/research/rs225tot.pdf); U.S. Dept. of Labor, Bureau of Labor Statistics.

Twisted Head Part Five

2010-07-10T08:26:00.000-07:00

Well, I finally got my second set of botox shots based on the results of an intramuscular electromyography. Say what? It's called an EMG. You lay (lie, whatever) down and the doctor inserts a small needle, like an accupuncture needle, into various muscle groups. Yes, you read right. More needles in the neck. As the needle is inserted into the muscle, the doctor either puts his hand on your face and asks you to press against it or he moves the needle around. Are you still with me or are you running for the hills? The needle has a fine wire attached to it that sends a signal to a machine that reacts like an EKG machine. If, when you press against the doctor's hand etc, the machine makes a "noise", meaning shows an erratic line, then that muscle is contracting and that is where he needs to inject the botox. The doctor then moves to the next muscle group and sees if he gets the same reaction. If there is no "noise", then no botox for that muscle today. He located two muscle groups that made "noise" so that's where I got my two vials of botox. I have a really smooth neck...Anyway, it takes up to two-three weeks for any results to show. If it doesn't work this time, then I'm off to a specialist at Emory Hospital. Keep your fingers crossed for me, OK?

Twisted Head Part Four:The Saga Continues

2010-07-06T17:44:00.000-07:00

Well, here it is almost three months since the botox injections and, drum roll please...nothing. It did NOTHING! Many of you asked about how in the world did I go half way around the world with my head twisted to the side. It's called good valium and business elite on Delta. When I'm reclining, I don't have any issues, except with the difficulty of reading. That's where the Kindle has been so much help. It's so light I can position it many ways. Once I got to Singapore I decided to have a massage. Not an Al Gore massage, just a plain old massage. After the massage the therapist said, you are so tight. I will adjust you. And before I could open my mouth, she had adjusted both sides of my neck. My chiropractor asked if she was certified to do that. Yeah right. But it sure felt good. It wasn't easy slogging my way through the jungle and climbing a mountain but I'm not a whiner, so I'm not going to complain. What I am going to complain about is what in the hell is going to happen to our health care systm when Obama/Pelosi/Reid care comes into fruition. I get back and I'm still on the valium type pills. I've been trying to work out and do some Dahn yoga to stretch the neck muscles. So, I have an appointment with the neurologist last week on a Weds. A week before that, I CALL the office to make sure the botox has been ordered. I know you're asking why do the injections again if they didn't work the first time. From my research I've done, sometimes it just takes more than once to kick in. I get a call on that Monday saying yes the botox had been ordered. I go to the appt and the doctor says that obviously the first set of injections didn't work and that he is going to use an advance technigue where he will put small needles into the different neck muscles, apply pressure to the muscle and if it contracts, that's where he'll put the injections. But he couldn't do it at that location because he didn't have the necessary equipment. Why didn't he do that the first time? 75-80% of all spasmodic torticollis sufferers respond to what he did do. Oh, no. Not me. I have to be different. So, he makes an appt for me the next day at the other office. I get home and get a call from the woman who had told me the botox had been ordered but...it...actually...had...not...been....Now, this is the second time this woman has done this to me. I know you're saying GO TO ANOTHER DOCTOR! Well, I found a "movement disorder" specialist in Atlanta but I couldn't get an appt with him until August! So, I got a call from this woman, apologizing, and saying the botox had been ordered. I called the mail order company and indeed it will be in their office tomorrow and my appt is the next day. But it will still take 3-4 weeks for it to work...if it does. If not, then I'll keep that other appt for August and change doctors. OK I will whine...My golf game sucks. But as I told the doctor, you can see everyday our soldiers coming back from Iraq or Afghanistan with lost limbs and crippling disabilities. So my whine will be minimal...

A Review on the writer Carl Hiaasen

2010-07-05T11:48:00.000-07:00

I’ve always had an offbeat sense of humor. I loved Monty Python and their Flying Circus, The Holy Grail, Life of Brian and of course, Spamalot (French Soldier: I don't want to talk to you no more, you empty headed animal food trough wiper. I fart in your general direction. Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.) I loved it. I’m also a fan of Dave Barry and Christopher Moore (Chris Moore is definitely not for everyone. He is VERY politically incorrect). So, in keeping with my sense of humor, a long time ago I picked up a book by Carl Hiaasen. It was Tourist Season, his first book. Here is a synopsis of the book off of Hiaasen’s web page: “The only trace of the first victim was his Shriner's fez washed up on the Miami Beach. The second victim, the head of the city's chamber of commerce, was found dead with a toy rubber alligator lodged in his throat. And that was just the beginning... Now Brian Keyes, reporter turned private eye, must move from muckraking to rooting out murder, in a caper that will mix football players, politicians, and police with a group of fanatics and a very hungry crocodile.” Now, who could not read something with that type of description?

Hiaasen has, for most of his career, been an editorial writer for the Miami Herald. So, his focus, both in his editorial writing and in his novels, is South Florida. Now, if you’ve ever spent any time in south Florida, you know it is populated with all types of miscreants, crooked politicians, crooked real-estate agents and just the plain weird. Welcome to the wild, weird and whacked out world of Carl Hiaasen.

My book club just finished reading Sick Puppy. “When Palmer Stoat first noticed a black pick up truck following him on the highway, he fears his precious Range Rover is about to be carjacked. But Twilly Spree, the man tailing Stoat, has vengeance, not sport-utility vehicles, on his mind. Idealistic, independently wealthy and pathologically short-tempered, Twilly has dedicated himself to saving Florida's wilderness from runaway destruction.” The book’s characters are fanatical environmentalists, a black lab that has eaten glass eyeballs from stuffed animals (therefore the title), a one eyed ex-governor who lives in the everglades, an ex-drug dealer/developer who has a penchant for Barbie dolls, and a very old rhino. We discussed this novel at our annual summer book club meeting where our husbands are invited to participate and we had a blast trying to figure out what Hollywood personality would star in the movie version. The main character, Twilly, would be Luke Wilson, Palmer Stoat, the lobbyist, Alec Baldwin, and Skink, the one eyed ex-governor, Jeff Bridges. It would be directed by the Coen brothers.

Now, that would be something to see. Hiaasen’s most famous novel, Striptease, was made into a movie which starred Demi Moore and Burt Reynolds. I think the movie was made more popular because of the “buffness” of Ms. Moore’s body. A quote from Mr. Hiaasen’s web page: “Hiaasen continues to insist that the scene featuring Burt Reynolds slathered from his neck to his toes with Vaseline is one of the high points in modern American cinema. “
Anyway, Hiaasen has published 11 novels with another one coming out July 27 entitled Star Island (I’ve already pre-ordered it!) He also has published three children’s books, Hoot, Flush and Scat. They really are just miniature versions of his adult books but without the sometimes risqué language and sex. Hoot was awarded the prestigious Newberry Honor and made into a movie.

Hiaasen did leave the weird, wild and whacky world of south Florida for the weird, whacky world of golf in his true life story, Downhill Lie: A Hacker’s Return to a Ruinous Sport. So, I’ll leave you with this synopsis: "Ever wonder how to retrieve a sunken golf cart from a snake-infested lake? Or which club in your bag is best suited for combat against a horde of rats? If these and other sporting questions are gnawing at you, The Downhill Lie, Carl Hiaasen’s hilarious confessional about returning to the fairways after a thirty-two-year absence, is definitely the book for you."

When you read Hiaasen, realize that his novels are addictive and YOU WILL laugh out loud. Great, great beach reading!

What's Become of "Buy American?"

2010-07-05T08:44:00.000-07:00

It's getting harder and harder to "buy American" these days. Just look at these icons of american culture and see where they are now or were always made. I found this courtesy of comcast.net:

Toll House: Nestle, a Swiss company, is the owner of the Toll House brand of chocolate morsels, baking supplies and cookie dough. But, at least the cookies are an American invention. Ruth Wakefield owned the Toll House Inn outside Whitman, Mass., and baked colonial-inspired desserts. Her big hit was a butter cookie that she flavored with bits of a Nestle chocolate bar. In the mid-1900s, she and Nestle struck a bargain. They could use the Toll House name and in return she got a lifetime supply of chocolate. In 1939, Nestle started selling chocolate "chips."

Tretorn, Puma and Adidas:
Adolph "Adi" Dassler of Germany basically invented sneakers in 1920 and started the Dassler company with his brother, Rudolph. After a fight, Rudolph founded Puma and Adolph renamed his company Adidas. For a while, Adidas was under control of the French and Robert Louis-Dreyfus, cousin of Julia. It's now German and owns Reebok. Puma bought Tretorn, the classic preppy shoe, which was originally Swedish.

French's Mustard:
It was never French. It's no longer American. It's British! Created by American brothers with the last name French, it was invented for the 1904 St. Louis World's Fair. French's mustard was actually first introduced as a salad topping. During the anti-France fury at the start of the Iraq War, French's made a point of telling the world: "For the record, French's would like to say there is nothing more American than French's Mustard." Except that it's now owned by Reckitt Benckiser, a British conglomerate.

Anheuser-Busch:
Beer drinkers were shocked when Belgian beer juggernaut InBev put the moves on Anheuser-Busch, which initially tried to fend off the bid. However, on July 14, 2008, it was announced InBev would buy its rival for $52 billion. On November 18, 2008, the acquisition was completed and control over America's largest brewer moved overseas.

Good Humor
Harry Burt, a Youngstown, Ohio, candy maker, got the idea to put chocolate-coated ice cream on a stick in 1921. He sent neatly dressed Good Humor men to sell the bars from white trucks. Lipton bought Good Humor in 1965. Unilever, the British-Dutch conglomerate, had bought Lipton in 1937. Unilever is now the world's biggest ice cream maker. It also owns Ben & Jerry's and Breyers.

Trader Joe's:
The original Trader Joe was 26-year-old Joe Coulombe, a manager at Rexall Drug, which wanted to get into convenience stores. In the '60s, Joe bought the convenience store chain from Rexall, changed the name and concentrated on offering affordable, exotic foods with a healthy and environmental bent and tropical decor. German billionaires Karl and Theo Albrecht, who owned ALDI, bought Coulombe out in 1979 but kept him as CEO.

7-Eleven:
The Southland Ice Company started selling food at off hours to customers in 1927. By 1946 -- long before the concept of 24/7 -- the company changed the store name to 7-Eleven to advertise its long hours. The founder tried to buy out the company but got caught in the market crash of 1987. His largest franchisee, Japan's Ito-Yokado, got equity and now its parent, Seven and I, own 7-Eleven.

Dial Soap:
Armour, the Chicago meatpacking company, sold, canned and used the byproduct tallow to make soap. When they added a germicide in 1948, Armour branded the soap Dial because you could wear it for 24 hours -- or around the dial. The company went through many corporate machinations, was owned by Greyhound for a while, and in 2004 the Dial Corporation was bought by conglomerate Henkel KGaA, based in Dusseldorf, Germany.

Plastic Bottles, Moonlight Cruises and Indiana Jones

2010-06-20T09:48:00.000-07:00

It's almost been a month since I've returned from my trip to Borneo and I still am thinking about what an adventure my sister and I had. In addition to the adventure we also learned a great deal about how many dedicated people there are throughtout the world who devote their lives to the conservation of animals and the flora and fauna. For example, one of the scientists working along the Kinabatangan River noticed that the local shrimpers were cutting bark off of trees to hook their shrimp traps to so they could locate them. Well, that meant that the tree would eventually die and there would be more deforestation. This scientist got together with some the local influential shrimpers and suggested that instead of using the bark, why not use "used" plastic water bottles. Now, as you travel the river, you see along the river banks bobbing plastic water bottles. Late one night, while we were on one of our night safaris, we saw glowing red lights on the water. Uh, oh. Aliens? Red Tide? Crocs with red eyes? No. One ingenious shrimper had put red LED lights in his water bottles so that he could pull them up at night. Speaking of moonlight cruises, that is were I was able to get the great pics of the two birds pictured on the left. What I noticed, though, about where we were was the distinct lack of sounds. It is very quite. If you're in Africa, all night long you're hearing lions roar, hyenas barking, hippos splashing in the water, elephants trumpeting. But here, it was very quite. We had cloudless nights, clear views of the constellations and the milkyway. I told Mincho, our guide, that he needed to do "sundowners' like they do in Africa. Bring along a few "toddies" of choice, drift down the river and watch the sun set. His response: Well, you might then have to go to the bathroom and well, you're not getting in the water and I'm not taking you ashore. Good answer. Bug repellent won't repel those types of meat eaters.

Mincho so desparately wanted us to see the elephants but everytime the "crew" who tracked them would spot some, by the time we got there, they were gone. We told him that he could come to the lodge ANYTIME and get us if some were spotted. The next day after we saw the shrimper with the red lights, Mincho pulls up in the boat and says the shrimper had seen the elephants crossing the river about 20 minutes after we had left. Oh, poop on a stick. So, he was going to take us to that location and see what we could find. We're almost at the spot where they had entered the river the night before when Mincho gets an urgent call that 2 male elephants had been spotted in a palm oil plantation and that if we hurried, we could finally see the elusive pygmy elephants. We zipped down the river as if head hunters were chasing us, jumped to land and hurriedly got in a van and zoomed lickety split down the road zig zagging around pot holes and an occasional cobra (Ok I made that part up. We did see one dead one though). Got to the plantation and began walking in to find the elephants. We were not really prepared for this. Wrong shoes, wrong clothes but we didn't care. And there they were eating from the palm oil trees. Which the owners of the palm oil plantations don't really care for. And I doubt very seriously they would have been happy to find us there. But hot damn, we finally found them. See the picture at the left. Why such a big deal to see these? Well, in the state of Sabah, where we were, the WWF says that there are only 1000-1500 of the animals left in the world. They are smaller than other Asian elephants, and the Borneo Pygmy has a longer tail that reaches almost to the ground and straighter tusks. Their babyish faces and more rotund shape lend them appeal. Well, we finally found them. It would have been a real shame if we had not. But, Mincho and his team came to our rescue. It took a boat, a van and stumbling through a plantation to see them but we did. Success!

We left the Proboscis Lodge the next day to go climb Mt. Kinabalu and then back to Kota Kinabalu to stay at the 5 star Shangri-la Hotel. We stayed there for two nights to decompress and actually take some nice hot showers and get wonderful massages. My sister then headed back to Houston via Hong Kong and San Francisco and I had to overnight in Singapore and then head back to Atlanta via Tokyo. This is definitely not a trip for everyone. I saw an article the other day in the WSJ about the difference between a traveler and a tourist. We saw very few Americans on this trip. Mostly Europeans, Brits, Aussies etc. My hypothesis is that most, not all, Americans are "tourists". We like comfort and the familiar therefore, we take cruises (albeit some can be to exotic locations but only for a day or night then on to the next port)or we travel to Mexico, the Caribbean and certainly Europe. But the Europeans and Brits are travelers. You find them in some of the most remote places with not a care in the world. My sister and I felt like travelers and we really, really enjoyed the experience...

A Review: Innocent by Scott Turow

2010-06-08T18:46:00.001-07:00

It’s been 23 years since we’ve seen Rusty and Barbara Sabich, the husband and wife in the wildly popular novel, Presumed Innocent, written by Scott Turow. Presumed Innocent was also a wildly popular movie starring Harrison Ford (playing Rusty Sabich, chief deputy prosecutor) and Greta Scacchi (playing Carolyn Polhemus, a sex pot assistant). I expressly remember the first time “they did it”. Whew, was that some scene. Yes, that’s right. Rusty was being a bad boy and began having an affair with Carolyn. That is until she is raped and murdered. Rusty is accused of the deed and stands trial, only to be exonerated. Or, was he?

Presumed Innocent was really the first of the courtroom drama genre novels. Unlike many of the other authors who write these types of dramas, Turow still has his hand in the legal business as a defense attorney representing white collar defendants. He has written 11 other books since Presumed Innocent. An author knows how much blood, sweat and tears he/she has put into a book and may wonder whether they will be able to replicate that success in a sequel. Innocent doesn’t have the same level was suspense that Presumed Innocent does but it is one hell of a read. It’s a great courtroom drama for adults.

From the last time we saw Rusty, I’m afraid he hasn’t learned a thing. This time he just has a bigger and better job: Chief Judge of the State Appellate Court. Rusty is now approaching 60 and still living with his wife Barbara, who is still mentally challenged. She’s now been diagnosed as bi-polar and assorted other maladies and is on 60 or so medications. So, what’s a guy like Rusty to do? Why have an affair with a much younger woman. Again. And what happens? Barbara ends up dead. Did she die of natural causes or was it…murder…by Rusty, who still has the Polhemus murder hanging over his head. Some old characters come back to haunt Rusty from his first trial, particularly the assistant prosecuting attorney, Tommy Molto, who is now acting PA. Who would love to get his hooks into Rusty because he knows, he just knows, Rusty killed Carolyn and if he’s killed once, he can kill again. So, he brings Rusty to trial for the murder of his wife, Barbara.

The novel is told from several points of view, at times from Rusty or Tommy or from two new characters, his young girlfriend, Anna, and his now grown son, Nat. This adds depth to their characterizations particularly for the new characters. We know much about Rusty and Tommy from Presumed Innocent but not all. The thing that bothered me though was Turow switches from the past to the present and back. It was difficult to keep track of in what year something was happening. You can tell Turow knows his stuff because the legal wrangling in the court is riveting and but it also shows how mundane even the most “show case” trial can be.

In Innocent, the killer of Carolyn Polhemus is never revealed. Although for those of us in the know, we know. Turow says that he wanted this novel to be a stand alone and it is. But all it will make you do is want to run out and get Presumed Innocent or watch it On Demand. In both novels there are two abiding themes: people make lousy choices especially in relationships and even though you may evade “legal” punishment, sometimes just living your life as a lie is far worse. The ending to this drama is not as taut as Presumed Innocent and that is probably why most reviewers are giving it 3 ½ stars out of 5 instead of the 4 ½ of the previous drama. I would give it 4

Desperate Housewives, Big Love and President Obama: Borneo Part Two

2010-06-04T15:40:00.000-07:00

So, with my wodka, all was right with the world again. As I stated in my May 31st blog, most of our time was spent doing water safaris. But on two occasions we went trekking looking for a group doing research for Hutan, an orang-utan conservation project. They have a study area and watch the orang-utans throughtout the day. These folks have got to be dedicated to hang out all day writing down mother turned left, ate leaf, baby clung to mama, mama turned right etc etc... Why? Simple answer. The better they understand their behavior, the better they can help them survive. They provide much needed info to the government of Malaysia, who can then implement programs to help the big apes survive. Alright. On with the story. So, we see and talk to the monitoring group and see the mother orang-utan and her baby. Mincho then says, "let's take a little trek and we'll see what we can see." Off we go into the wilds of the Borneo jungle, snakes and poisonous spiders at every turn. Not really. Didn't see a darn thing except a lot of really Lord of the Rings type trees and all kinds of beautiful mushrooms. I was very surprised at how quite it was. I guess any animal or bird around would have been run off by our tromping around. We're walking for about an hour and then the skies open. A downpour like a hurricane but without the wind. Sheets and sheets of rain. Well, we are not very close to a shelter and there was thunder and lightening. I don't think, and I think I can speak for my sister as well, that we have moved that fast in years. I'm very surprised none of us fell or tripped on a root. We make it to the shelter but there is no way the boat can pick us up. So, I ask Mincho, I ask, so, you've got three Americans here that like to talk. Ask us any question you want about America. Anything at all. Politics, culture. Well, he says, I saw a video the other day with Pres. and Mrs. Obama at a White House dinner and Pres. Obama had just danced with this very good looking woman. When he came to sit by his wife, she had this very displeased look on her face. Is Pres. Obama going to have an affair with this woman? I thought my sister and I and the lady from the zoo were going to wet our pants laughing. I said, Mincho, have you ever noticed the "guns" on Mrs. Obama? She'd rip him to shreds if he tried such a thing. Then began our tutoring of Mincho on american slang i.e. calling Michelle's biceps "guns". It turns out that this part of Malaysia, even though it is Muslim, is not as fanatic about their religion as their neighbors, the Indonesians. This Malaysia has US tv programs in english with Malay subtitles. That is how Mincho learned his english. If I thought that moment was priceless, the next was even more so. Come on Mincho. You've got to be curious about something else. Well, yes. Which Desperate Housewife do you like best? I like Brie, he says. It's true it's true it's true. He also watches Big Love and True Blood. Well, there's American culture for you in all its glory. This conversation ended too soon because it was way to hilarious to have end. But the boat arrived, took us back to our lodge, an afternoon nap, dinner and then time for our moonlight water safari...Up next: Plastic bottles, guana, and karaoke

Al and Tipper: You Know I Just Had To

2010-06-02T17:42:00.000-07:00

I think the earth has spun off of its axis. Tipper and Al divorcing before the Hillster and Billster. Who would have ever thunk it. I'm always sorry to hear about a couple who decides to divorce after so many years. I mean, you've made it thru 40 years of trials and tribulations, ups, downs and lots of sideways. What at this stage makes a couple decide to call it splitsville? Well, usually it's because the husband has found himself a young flat belly chicky babe (even though his belly is not). And now, with insurance covering Viagra, well, the world's a new place...An aside. I learned on my Borneo trip that a male orangu-tan has erections that last 36 hours. One of my all time favorite songs from Bull Durham is Sixty Minute Man. Whew, imagine another 35...Don't think so. As always, I digress. Apparently a third party is not involved in this separation. So, then, what could it be? Let me give you my uneducated guess. And of course from a woman's perspective. Another aside. I just heard on the news that Sally Quinn, writer for Vanity Fair, blamed the breakup on Bush. Back to my take. Tipper got tired of being "the wife". Let's face it. Since Big Al lost the 2000 election, he has been fawned over, by the press, by world leaders and by the Noble Prize committee. His fictional movie, An Inconvenient Truth, made him the darling of the Hollywood elite. Hang'n with Leonardo and that great brain trust, Sean Penn (great actor though). Big Al's made millions on being involved in the carbon credit business. Which reminds me. I just read in last week's WJS that the Gore's had just bought an Italian style villa in California. That makes TWO huge mansions for them. Maybe she got tired of the hypocrisy of it all. Maybe Big Al said one too many times, hon, watch that water usage or remember hon, only two squares. And maybe that's when Tipper said, yo, wait a minute. I'm still relatively young and if I lose a few lbs, I could be "out there". I could have MY life. And I could go out with a guy with eye brows. Really. Look at the Alster. He has no eye brows.

Enough of going after Al. I feel for their children, even though they are grown. Children of parents who divorce late in life are left with the "whose side will you take" dilema. My sisters and I went through that with our parents. They divorced after 40 some odd years and it was hell on wheels. You still have the emotional tug of war as to where to spend the holidays but now, instead of the decision of whether to spend them just between your family and your in-laws, you now have a three way split. And sometimes there's the possibility of a new "step mom" half your age. Al and Tipper are set financially for life and probably so are their children. But divorce among the middle class at a later age can be devastating financially. Particularly for the woman. In this economy, I've heard of many couples sticking it out, living in the same house but leading separate lives.

A question was raised today on one of the talk shows that was brought up, again, by Sally Quinn. If we all thought Tipper and Al had it so good and were so happy, the perfect couple, does that then make you look at your own marriage and say, is mine "safe"? I wouldn't put it quite that way. I'd say more along the lines of something like this: Am I happy? Is my spouse happy with our relationship? And if the answer is no, then do something about it. My guess is that Al and Tipper let their marriage drift and the way back was too long and too winding and they simply became two instead of one...

2010-05-31T18:53:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I last posted but my sister and I were on an adventure. We were on an ecotour on the island of Borneo. For the uninitiated, Borneo is the 3rd largest island in the world and is made up of 3 nations, Indonesia, Malaysia and Brunei. Borneo, for me, conjured up visions of head hunters and pythons ready to have me for dinner. Well, not so. Indonesia has the world's largest population of Muslims. Betcha didn't know that... Why did we chose a trip to Borneo? Well, my sister does contract work for the Houston Zoo and the Zoo is a major benefactor with the Malaysian government in working to save three threatened species, the Pygmy Elephant, the Orangu-tan, and the Proboscis monkey. Even though my sister has traveled extensively , it was the type of trip she had never experienced before (I had been on two African safaris) and we said "what the hell. Why not". Luckily for us, we saw all three species thanks to Red Ape Encounters. Our guide, Mincho, 29 and a father of three, was superb and his english was terrific. I'll get to the "why" his english is so good later. Here are just some musings, factoids and experiences:

I started my experience in Singapore. For me, you can keep it. Hot, very humid, one shopping center after another, Louis, Gucci, Prada, Miu Miu, Starbucks Starbucks Starbucks. Crowded, expensive. Did I mention hot and humid. Now, if you're an American living over there for a few years and making the big bucks with an apartment, driver etc, I'm sure it's fascinating and lucrative. And the spouse can shop to their hearts content. I took a two hour (supposedly) sightseeing tour and it lastest an hour and a half. They do have some beautiful Buddist temples. It is a very clean city. It made for a nice stopover and then a quick get away...

On to the state of Sabah in the northern part of the country of Malaysia. The area of Kota Kinabalu, the third largest city in Malaysia, where we began our journey, was not the same as the part where we ended our journey. This was the working man's part of Kota Kinabalu. Dirty, dusty, hot. I spent the afternoon at a huge local market watching men at sewing machines repairing jeans, pants etc. Most, but not all of the women, wore the traditonal Muslim head covering, hijab. But not once did I hear the call to prayer (You can hear that while playing golf at the prestigious golf course here in Atlanta, East Lake). I was hungry and a long way from the hotel. Where did I eat lunch? Of course there was a Starbucks. Where better to get a ham and cheese sandwich? Well, not really. There is no ham, pork or pork by products. Beef "bacon" anyone? Chicken "ham"?

That night we met with the scientific "team" working with the Houston Zoo. One scientist, Mark, worked with the elephant population and the other was a geneticist working with the orangu-tans. They were French. And Mark looked like Anthony Bourdain. No joke. Now Mark made a big mistake with me. When he pronounced his name, he didn't say just "Mark", he said it as if Bill the Cat from Bloom County said it. Remember Bill the Cat was always throwing up hairballs and it sounded like "ackkk". Well, this scientist said his name like "Maracckkkk". From that point on, for me, he was Marackkkk. The other scientist, Dr. Benoit something or other, was the geneticist. They were both divorced and both had girlfriends half their ages (I'll give Bourdain some credit. His new wife is only 20 some odd years younger). Mega cheers for Susan Sarandon and Demi Moore...I digress as I always do. What these guys do is tedious, hard work, and they are constantly looking for money to support their projects. They really do care about what they are doing, trying to save these animals from extinction. And we were very happy that they took some of their valuable time to talk to us about what they do. I have a little story about Maracckkkkk later.

Most of the sightseeing in Sabah is by boat cruising the Kinabatangan River. But because we were with the Houston Zoo team and Red Ape Encounters, we were able to "off" river into the jungle to trek and see the scientists at work. The first day we are at our lodge, The Proboscis Lodge, I saunter up to two Austrians and asked how they were enjoying their trip. Great they said. But they then asked me if we had our "leech" socks? Leech socks!?? Mincho said nothing about leeches! Leeches?! Well, that night I asked Mincho about the leech socks and he said they were basically a gimmick to sell to the tourists. We really didn't need "leech socks" because if we sprayed ourselves enough with insect repellent, the leeches didn't like that and they wouldn't suck on us. Back up. There are leeches? Well, yes. But not like those in Viet Nam. These are about the size of a pretzel stick. OK. To deal with this, I neeed some nectar from the Poles or Russians or whatever, vodka. The little girl tending the "bar" looked at me as if I had twenty heads. "Wodka" she asks"? Only beer and $60 bottles of cheap New Zealand wine sold by the bottle. Yooo hooo Mincho? Can you get us some wodka? I can, he says, but it will take a few days. A few days pass and no wodka. Mincho, where's the wodka? Well, bad news, he says. The guys he asked to buy it had never had wodka before and wanted to taste it. They liked it and therefore, drank the WHOLE bottle. Can you guess how badly they must have felt the next day never having had any hard liquor? I guess I'm a bad influence. Anyway the next day Mincho shows up with a mysteriously wrapped package and it's my bottle of Absolute! A fifth! At $60 US dollars a bottle! And it tasted damn good, too!

Part Two: Desperate House Wives, Big Love and President Obama

Oxymorons and other things to ponder

2010-05-06T13:37:00.000-07:00

1. Is it good if a vacuum really sucks?

2. Why is the third hand on the watch called the second hand?

3. If a word is misspelled in the dictionary, how would we ever know?

4. If Webster wrote the first dictionary, where did he find the words?

5. Why do we say something is out of whack? What is a whack?

6. Why does "slow down" and "slow up" mean the same thing?

7. Why does "fat chance" and "slim chance" mean the same thing?

8. Why do "tug" boats push their barges?

9. Why do we sing "Take me out to the ball game" when we are already there?

10. Why are they called " stands" when they are made for sitting?

11. Why is it called "after dark" when it really is "after light"?

12.. Doesn't "expecting the unexpected" make the unexpected expected?

13.. Why are a "wise man" and a "wise guy" opposites?

14. Why do "overlook" and "oversee" mean opposite things?

15. Why is "phonics" not spelled the way it sounds?

16. If work is so terrific, why do they have to pay you to do it?

17.. If all the world is a stage, where is the audience sitting?

18. If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?

19. If you are cross-eyed and have dyslexia, can you read all right?

20. Why is bra singular and panties plural?

21.. Why do you press harder on the buttons of a remote control when you know the batteries are dead?

22. Why do we put suits in garment bags and garments in a suitcase?

23. How come abbreviated is such a long word?

24. Why do we wash bath towels? Aren't we clean when we use them?

25.. Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?

26. Why do they call it a TV set when you only have one?

27. Christmas - What other time of the year do you sit in front of a dead tree and eat candy out of your socks?

28. Why do we drive on a parkway and park on a driveway ?

Beatrice and Virgil by Yann Martel: A Review

2010-05-04T08:21:00.000-07:00

Life of Pi, Yann Martel’s 2002 Man Booker prize winner, is one of my all time favorite novels. I remember that I asked my book club to read it because I was so enthralled with it. Half of them hated it and the other half, like me, loved it. There seems to be the same split for Martel’s newest novel or novella (it’s a mere 197 pages), Beatrice and Virgil. Let me digress a minute. One of the local high schools had Life of Pi on their summer reading list. A friend of mine, whose son attends this HS, asked me if I could help him understand the novel. The first thing I said to him is that in order to understand Pi you have to suspend your disbelief in what is happening in order for you to believe in what is happening. Huh? In order to understand Beatrice and Virgil, you have to believe that a donkey and a howler monkey can be an allegory for the Holocaust. In a way Beatrice and Virgil starts out partly autobiographical. Martel admits that. The story is of two Henry’s, Dante’s Inferno (Virgil guides Dante through Hell and Purgatory and Beatrice guides him through paradise) and the Holocaust. The first Henry is a writer who writes a wildly popular book, makes millions and has, as of yet, been unable to replicate his earlier success (i.e. Martel). Henry is obsessed with the Holocaust. His editors and publishers can’t understand this obsession. So, he decides to go do other things like learn to play the clarinet and join an acting group. Then the other Henry enters the picture. He has written a play and wants Henry to help him with it. To simplify, I’m going to call Henry the author “HA” and Henry the playwright “HP”. The play HP has written is about Beatrice, a donkey, and Virgil, a howler monkey. As with Richard Parker in Life of Pi, Martel likes to use animals as characters because he can attribute traits to them because, well, why not? Do we really know if a donkey can or can not communicate with a howler monkey? It’s easier to suspend belief with animals than with human characters. But the real kicker is that Beatrice and Virgil are stuffed with Virgil riding on the back of Beatrice. HP, you see, is a taxidermist. As the two stories, that of HA and HP become entwined, you can’t help wondering why HA hangs out with HP, who is creepier than all get out. As the play unfolds, we find that Beatrice and Virgil are stand-ins for Holocaust victims and endure the same indignities and tortures. As with Life of Pi, all kinds of themes are thrown at you. Man’s inhumanity to man, a philosophical mediation on God, the extermination of animal life on earth and once someone has endured the indignities and “horrors” that those of the Holocaust endured, just how do you “endure”? Because I enjoyed Life of Pi so much, I kept reading, liking, yet not liking, and thinking, where is this going? And then at the end of the “novel”-it explodes. At the end of the “play”, Beatrice and Virgil think of playing games to hide their distress over the death of a young Holocaust victim, killed, more than likely, by HP. “Game Number 12: A doctor is speaking to you: This pill will erase your memory. You will forget all your suffering and all your loss. But you will also forget your entire past. Do you swallow the pill?”

Twisted Head Saga Part Three

2010-04-29T15:22:00.000-07:00

Now I don't want you to think I'm whining. But, seriously, I am. This stupid spasmodic torticollis is really pissing me off. First of all, the Botox was supposed to be a miracle. Not. I think I told you it can take 2-3 weeks for those little toxins to reach the little brain cells (yes, I'm sure blond jokes will abound) that are telling my muscles to contract. So, I called the doc after just 9 days and said, "PLEASE HELP ME!". So, they "worked me in". 2 hours later I had another set of 15 shots of Botox in the neck muscles. You guys out there listen up. The neurologist said that it is clear to him that women can tolerate pain more then men. So there! Anyway, at night, in particular, my neck really spasms so I bought a cervical collar. Now what is pissing me off is that three things that I truly enjoy are being hampered by this malady. Golf. I lost a match the other day that I never should have lost. Ever try to read a breaking putt with your left should raised 5 inches higher than the other. I was missing 4 foot putts! Drat! Then, I can't cook the way I like. I have this great Shun Ken Onion Chef's Knife that my hubby gave me a few years ago. Sharp sharp sharp. Try chopping with your head bouncing around like a bobble doll. Dan Akroyd as Julia Child on SNL anyone? And finally reading and writing. Good thing this program has spell check because every other word is like thid . Hid yoi lije thia. And not being able to read, well, I have yet to find a comfortable position. The cervical collar helps. Maybe I should just download some to my ipod. So, here I sit, cervical collar on, typing you a note to let you know that that GD! Botox better work. Oh, and the doc says, this malady doesn't go away. Learn to live with it. I shall because we all know what the alternative is....

The Fairy Tale All Little Girls Should Read

2010-04-29T14:33:00.000-07:00

This is the fairy tale that should have been read to us when we were little...

Once upon a time...in a land far away...a beautiful, independent self assured princess happened upon a frog as she sat contemplating ecological issues on the shores of an unpolluted pond in a verdant meadow near her castle.

The frog hopped into the princess’ lap and said, “elegant lady, I was once a handsome prince, until an evil witch cast a spell upon me. One kiss from you however, and I will turn back into the dapper young prince that I am and then my sweet...we can marry and set up housekeeping in your castle...with my mother...where you will prepare my meals...clean my clothes...bear my children and forever feel grateful and happy doing so”.

That night...as the princess dined sumptuously on lightly sautéed frog legs seasoned in a white wine and onion cream sauce, she chuckled...and thought to herself:

I don’t f**king think so...

To My Sisters

2010-04-27T18:00:00.000-07:00

In a couple of weeks from now my OLDER sister and I are embarking on our first major trip together. I guess you could say it's not our first journey together because just by virtue of being sisters, we've been on a life long trip. We also have a younger sister who is 6 years younger than me. My older sister and I don't really know a whole lot about her because when she was 8 or 9, we were 14 and 16 and could have cared less about her other than for her to stay out of our way. My older sister, I'll call "G". She is 16 months older than me. Our relationship, from the time we were born until our thirties, was a tumultuous one. We fought like cats and dogs. She'd pull up my flower garden and I'd break her figurines. And as we got older, we vied for the same guys as boyfriends. Our school was very small, 30 or 40 to a freshman class, etc so there weren't that many guys to go around. We both married young and to our high school sweethearts. We both divorced said high school sweet hearts. And somewhere in there we had the biggest knock down drag out fight you can imagine. It was really bad. But I think something told both of us that if we didn't work this out, it would irrevocably destroy our sisterhood. I just remember calling her and saying we needed to talk and from that day forward, she has been my best friend. Now, as for my younger sister "B", well, she sort of grew up motherless except for the love of our paternal grandmother. Our mother had decided to go off to college. I congratulate her on her desire to be something in life and show us life as a modern woman. But that still left B to be pretty much on her own. B also married her high school sweetheart, had 2 beautiful daughters, divorced, and re-married and has a great son who is now a Marine. Over the years, B has found solace in her family life making up for the one she didn't have growing up and G and I found we really really like each other. Over the years, G has taken many long trips for vacations( she's single and prefers one long vacation.) G always asks me to go with her so she doesn't have to go by herself but I'm married to someone I love very much and have other obligations. But since this year is a very special birthday year for G, we're taking a 15 day trip to Borneo. Yes, indeedy, Borneo. It was her choice. It is her birthday after all. We've both greatly mellowed and understand more than ever how important family is. Sisterhood is indeed a life long journey and I am blessed to have two such wonderful sisters. I love you B and G.

A Man's Journey

2010-04-22T13:55:00.000-07:00

When I was 13, I hoped that one day I would have a girlfriend with big boobs. When I was 16 I got a girlfriend with big boobs, but there was no passion, so I decided I needed a passionate girl with a zest for life.

In college I dated a passionate girl, but she was too emotional. Everything was an emergency; she was a drama queen, cried all the time and threatened suicide. So I decided I needed a girl with stability.

When I was 25 I found a very stable girl but she was boring. She was totally predictable and never got excited about anything. Life became so dull that I decided that I needed a girl with some excitement.

When I was 28 I found an exciting girl, but I couldn't keep up with her. She rushed from one thing to another, never settling on anything. She did mad impetuous things and made me miserable as often as happy. She was great fun initially and very energetic, but directionless. So I decided to find a girl with some real ambition.

When I turned 30, I found a smart ambitious girl with her feet planted firmly on the ground, so I married her. She was so ambitious that she divorced me and took everything I owned.

I am older and wiser now, and I am looking for a girl with big boobs.

Men, ya got to love'm...

The Twisted Head Saga Continues

2010-04-21T14:03:00.000-07:00

The last time I blogged about my torticollis I was awaiting an appointment for some Botox injections...which was to cure all ills. Oh, if life were so simple. If one could snap one's fingers and what you wanted appeared. Well, there has been no genie in a bottle for moi. There has been only disappointment and misinformation. My poison pen is directed at the mail order pharmacy Medco who has a contract with United Health Care to fulfill the prescriptions of UHC's insured. The crux of the biscuit, a favorite coinage by Frank Zappa, is that I should have shucked out the $1100 for the two vials and dealt with reimbursement later. But both the doctor's office as well as the insurance company ASSURED me that the Botox would be in the doc's office in a matter of days. Trust Medco and the doctor's office to deal with this I was assured by UHC's Cure Coordination Dept. As my dear departed mother in law used to say, "trust died". I tried to be my own advocate. I really did. But buracracy got to me. In defense of Medco, they are a "fulfillment" pharmacy. Normally a doctor will give the patient a few weeks prescription to take to their local pharmacy while Medco goes thru their protocol. But they have no protocol for someone like me. As I was told time and time again, it takes 24-48 hours to get approval and then up to 8 days to go out. Now, my doctor and the insurance company both approved the use of the drug. But that was not good enough for Medco. No. They faxed to the neurologist and still asked if it was going to be used for wrinkles. A supervisor told me that if I had wanted it in a hurry, I should have had the doctor write a prescription and take it to my local pharmacy to be filled. And you know what? I should have. But neither the insurance company nor the doctor anticipated this wait. Well, the Botox finally came in on Tuesday, April 20th (the prescription arrived at Medco on the 9th) and I got 15 little shots from below my left ear all the way down the top of my shoulder. That's the good news. But there's bad. What? It will take up to TWO-THREE WEEKS to POSSIBLY WORK! If Medco hadn't have been such a-holes, I would have known by now if this stuff was working and I could get a second set of shots. And that timing will put me only a few days from my long trip. Medco-hear me out! You need a protocol in place for instances like mine. Hear me! Oh, one of the fun things one of the supervisors asked me after I had told her I had been to a chiropractor, physical therapist, accupuncturist and neurologist, that I'd iced, I'd heated, I Advil-d, and how I really needed the Botox because I was in pain....she asked if I wanted to speak to one of their pharmacists to see if he could help me...I almost threw the phone through the window.

Come to Jamaica Pretty Lady

2010-04-19T15:32:00.000-07:00

Let me tell you a story about a trip I took a few years back to the beautiful island of Jamaica. When I was in the cruise business, I often had clients ask which of the islands in the Caribbean are the most beautiful. Well, for me, they are the islands formed by volcanic mountains like the US Virgin Islands, Martinque, and,yes, Jamaica. They are mountainous, have beautiful rivers and, for the most part, lush greenery. In other words, they're more than a few feet above sea level. I had been to Jamaica many times with my then, and soon to be ex, husband so this was my first trip solo (newly d-i-v-o-r-c-ed). I don't really remember where I stayed but I met up with some other girls and had a great time seeing the sites and in general, partying. But I noticed there was something different going on this time. Couldn't quite put my finger on it until this: I was walking along a beach and a Jamaican guy came up to me and said this", pretty lady, I will come up to your room for $25." Say what? Is he really asking me what I think he's really asking me? Yes. Yes he was. Then it hit me like a load of ganja. I had noticed many Western European and North American women, well, hanging with the local guys. The men were offering their "services" to the ladies for a price, of course. Not a bad gig. I don't think these guys looked upon themselves as prostitutes but more in the line of being in the, ah, hospitality industry. What made me remember this moment in time? My blog on my recollections of Bangkok. So, I looked up "sexual tourism to Jamaica" and found this at Wikipedia: "An estimated 650,000 Western women have engaged in travel sex since 1980, many of them multiple times. By some estimates, 80,000 North American and European women travel to Jamaica for sex every year." I guess Bob Marley said it best with: "Let's get together and feel all right."

The Twisted Head

2010-04-06T15:24:00.000-07:00

And, no, I'm not talking about the name of a pub in Scotland or perhaps Bill Clinton's supposed physical problem... Now Hairball, behave yourself. I'm talking about MY neck. Some of you who follow me on facebook know that I've been diagnosed with torticollis. Here is a link to better describe what it is:http://www.merck.com/mmpe/sec04/ch041/ch041b.html. And here is a link to show you what it's like to have it:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFU5YzIQAWk.

Back in Dec. of 2009, I started to notice that when I read, my head would want to slide to the right. I just guessed it was holiday stress or I slept wrong, whatever. It would come and go. Then in Jan., I started to notice that I couldn't keep my head "righted". The chin would gravitate toward the right shoulder and as the left shoulder contracted, my left ear would meet my shoulder. I smelled trouble. Really? Duh. One morning I got up and was walking through the house and my husband asked me why I was walking like Quasimodo. Don't you just love loving, caring spouses? So I did what every woman does when she has a problem. I asked my girfriends. Well, I did get some good advice. The first friend said I should go to her very goodlooking and young chiropractor. If he can't fix you at least he's good to look at. Another said you've got to go to the accupuncturist who cured me of shingles. Dr. Kim. A socks and sandels guy. Another recommended a physical therapist and finally one said it's got to be neurological. Well, I did it all. The chiropractor, who indeed is young and indeed is goodlooking, diagnosed me with torticollis (I guess my left shoulder being 5 inches higher than my right was a sign) and said I'd feel some relief after 6 treatments. Having never been to a chiropractor, I was a little taken aback (pardon the pun) by all of the popping and cracking. I also began seeing the physical therapist. Lots of stretching and exercises to strengthen the other shoulder to compensate for the contractions of the left shoulder. It's was his idea to go see a neurologist. And finally the accupuncturist. I went twice. I had also never been to one and found the experience interesting. Since the pain and shoulder contractions were on the left, be put needles on the right side of my right foot and the right side of my right hand. I'd rest that way for 30 minutes. So sorry. No luck. That's when I get the recommendation of a neurologist. He looks at me for about 5 minutes, we talk Obamacare for 15 and he diagnoses me with, what else, torticollis. He put me on some muscles relaxers that have done no good. The next step? Botox injections to paralyze the muscle. I'm waiting for an appointment. Maybe he'll have a little left over for a little wrinkle work. The only good thing about this and there is only one..I look very professional while addressing the golf ball because my head is behind the ball. Try putting with your neck twisted as above. Makes reading breaking putts quite interesting...And to the good credit of the chiropractor, he eventually said he could not help me. An honest man...

Here's another link with more info:http://www.merck.com/mmpe/sec04/ch041/ch041b.html

Tall Tales of the Wild West

2010-03-23T15:37:00.000-07:00

Three cowboys were seated around the campfire out on the lonesome sagebrush prairie and with the pride for which these men were famous; it was a night of bravado, a night of tall tales..

Vern, the hand from Idaho says, 'I must be the strongest, meanest, toughest cowboy there is. Why, just the other day, a bull got loose in the corral. It gored six men before I wrestled it to the ground by the horns with my bare hands and castrated that sucker with my teeth.'

Larry, from Colorado, couldn't stand to be bested.. That's nothing, 'I was walking down the trail yesterday and a 15 foot Diamondback rattler slid out from under a rock and made a move for me. I grabbed that bastard with my bare hands, bit off its head, and sucked the poison down in one gulp and didn't even get a belly ache.'

Old Bob, the cowboy from Wyoming , remained silent, slowly
stirring the campfire coals with his pecker.

What's On My Kindle

2010-03-11T19:27:00.000-08:00

As I blogged before, it took me awhile to buy an e-reader but I did. More for travel than anything else. But I've become addicted to downloading books, which were once $9.99. Now, thanks to Apple and IPad, the download prices are closer to $15. Thanks a bunch Apple. Anyway, my community newsletter has asked me to write a monthly book review and my first two reviews were The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo by Larsson and That Old Cape Magic by Russo. I really do love to read and since the weather here in the southeast has not been conducive to golfing or gardening, I read and oh yes, blog. So, here's a partial list of what's on my Kindle. Before the list, here is an interesting tidbit about the Kindle. Many of the classics are FREE to download or at a greatly reduced rate, like a dollar. The other thing I've found out about Kindle and publishing is that not all authors/publishing houses have negotiated an e-book deal so you can't get them on an ebook, like John Grisham, or they wait for three months to publish to Kindle, like Stephen King. My partial list:

Game Change: Obama and the Clintons, McCain and Palin, and the Race of a Lifetime by John Heilemann and Mark Halperin, In the process of reading.

This Is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Tropper

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: The Classic Regency Romance - Now with Ultraviolent Zombie Mayhem! by Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith

The Man from Beijing by Henning Mankell and Laurie Thompson

The Postmistress by Sarah Blake

The Missing by Tim Gautreaux

Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand

The Gardens of Kyoto: A Novel by Kate Walbert

Under the Dome: A Novel by Stephen King

Wolf Hall: A Novel (Man Booker Prize) by Hilary Mantel

The Sisters of Sinai: How Two Lady Adventurers Discovered the Hidden Gospels by Janet Martin Soskice

The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells

And this list does not include hardbacks I've bought due to not being able to get on Kindle. Enjoy!

Tires and Sex

2010-03-10T14:56:00.000-08:00

NOT sex with tires but tires and sex. Ok then. What in the world are you talking about Hairball? Let me tell you a little story that will clarify, anger, and amuse. Back in the mid-80's I took a great trip to Tokyo, Hong Kong and Bangkok. This little story takes place in Bangkok. Thailand is a fascinating and beautiful country. Buddist temples on street corners with some of the most beautiful women in the world, thousands and thousands of orchids and phenonmenal hotels and incredible cuisine. And, sex. Before the Vietnam war, there was very little sex trade in Thailand. It became a favorite R and R spot for the troops and then Bangkok (an appropriate name I guess) became known for its sex trade. So, on with the story. I'm staying in a nice 4 star hotel. One evening I notice a bus pull up in front of the hotel. A large group of men staying at the hotel got into the bus and drove off. I didn't think a thing about it. A business meeting I guessed. The next day my group toured the King's palace and I happened to notice a very gorgeous guy. Hey, I was divorced and had not yet met the love of my life. Anyway, I sort of sauntered over and found out the guy was from Portugal and he's in Thailand for an incentive trip. He owns a large tire manufacturing company and he was there with his 50 biggest clients. Paid for by the tire company. And they're staying at our hotel. Be still my beating heart. Because this guy was GORGEOUS (have I mentioned that already?) That night he asks me to dinner. So with others from my group and his, we proceeded to hire tuc tucs, small motor cycles with seats attached to the back. This mode of transportation is not for the faint hearted. Zooming in between the endless traffic, thick exhaust, horns screaming...It was so much fun! But back to the story. At dinner (at that time I was a travel agent always interested in incentive trips), I asked him about his trip. He didn't really want to tell me anything but with me being the persuasive person I am, I got him to talk. His group was funded by a large tire company and the incentive was...drum roll please...a SEX TRIP! You read right oh gentle reader. The tire company paid for, each night, a different sex act to be performed on said incentive winner in select brothels. I think I spit out my wine. That's what the bus was doing each night coming to the hotel to pick up the winners to take them to brothels. My dinner companion explained that they were having some problems because most of the guys in the group were older and were having, ahhemm, difficulties. One guy even had a heart attack. Well, let's just say that that ended my evening with my gorgeous Portuguese. I just kept wondering what HE had been doing all the nights he was there...Yuck. After I got home I did a little research and found that for European and Asian countries these types of trips were not uncommon. So, Rolando, if I sell 1000 tires...

Asthma and Claustrophobia

2010-03-02T14:31:00.000-08:00

Serious up. I'm asthmatic and have claustrophobia. Does being asthmatic necessarily mean you're going to be claustrophobic? Maybe. I read about this in Prevention magazine. It seems that recent studies show that there is a striking connection between asthma and psychological problems, i.e. depression and anxiety. If you've ever been in a situation where you have not been able to breath, it's not hard then for the mind to extrapolate, "small place, no air." In the last year or so, I've unfortunately had some anxiety attacks regarding my asthma. For example, during our trip to Russia (vacation dropper) I must have acquired some bug because when we returned, I was sick for a good 6 weeks with coughing, sinus problems etc. So, the coughing exacerbates the asthma. I'm going to the allergist, taking all kinds of stuff and still having trouble breathing. One night I wake up in a sweat and am gasping for air. I tried not to panic. I was able to slow my breathing down and work my way out of it. But it was scary as hell. I can not imagine what it would be like to have a full blown panic attack. But, back to asthma and claustrophobia. I've tried to overcome the phobia. A few years ago while in Rome (oh, another vacation dropper), we decided to go to the top of St. Peter's Basilica. Now, if you've ever been in these old churches, you can only surmise that the people who built them must have been 5'5" and 150 pounds because all of the walkways are very narrow and low. I decided to give it a try (my mantra is that if God put it on this earth, I want to see it). It was July and peak tourist season. As we begin to ascend, you're walking in a spiral. So, you really only see the people's butts in front of you. There are 100's of people in front of me and 100's behind me. No escape! My dear dear husband. How I love him so. But what does he say? "This must not be very good for your claustrophobia". Screenplay: Wife reaches back and strangles husband. Life: "Thanks a pant load dear". As you get closer to the top of the dome, you are now bending to the right because the staircase mimics the dome. Help!!! Luckily, every so many steps there was a window that was open. I would stick my head out of the window, take a deep breath, and continue. I made it to the top! Congratulations! Now to go back down...

I've decided to go back on allergy shots to help alleviate my asthma but, I fear, the claustrophobia is here to stay. Any movie or TV show that has a person locked in a room, under ground in a cave, a room with no window, forget it. I can't watch. If a terrorist wanted info from me, just threaten to put me in a small cell...I'll talk, I'll talk!!!!!

The Olympics and Condoms-Strange Bedfellows

2010-02-27T17:09:00.000-08:00

Did that title get your attention? I was telling some friends of mine about this the other day. I had read about this concerning another Olympics. Their response was "you've got to be kidding". Nope. Would Hairball lie to you honey? The practice of handing out free condoms began in 1992 in Barcelona. Condom use within the Vancouver Olympic village is rampant. This year some 100,000 free condoms were given to some 7000 athletes and officials of the games. That's some 14 condoms PER person. Back up...they gave them to the officials too? This makes Tiger Woods and his trysts pale in comparison. What do they have there? A condom depot? But, they've run into a small, tensy weensy problem. The use of condoms ballooned and they were running out. What to do, what to do? To save the day the Canadian Foundation for AIDS Research sent an additional 80,000 small coins and that shipment arrived Thursday. That's an additonal 11 per person for 3 more nights of competition. What's going on here? Well, I'm very happy they're having safe sex. But on the other hand, there is a great deal of heinous f*ckery going on. But I'm willing to let them blow off steam. Keep in mind, some of these athletes come from very inflexible and ram rod societies. They've trained long and hard for this Olympics. And have spent many
hours/days/weeks/months/years to be in a 4 man heat or to be in the nordic combine. And, the ladies, well, they weren't diddling but preparing and waiting for the giant slalom or the team pursuit. And on top of all of that, who can resist all of those firm, gorgeous limbs. So, boys and girls, enjoy the last remaining nights of "the games". I'm sure there will be a guy or girl somewhere in the Olympic village singing, "Oh sweet mystery of life at last I've found you"...

Totally Worthless Info to Impress Your Friends

2010-02-25T18:28:00.000-08:00

A friend recently suggested I pick up a copy of a book entitled Who Knew. Well, I obviously didn't know or I would have already read it. By the by, if I can't get a book on Kindle through Amazon, I buy them used. My sister would say "go to the library". But I bought this book for $3 and change including shipping. So, there ya go. The sub-title of the book is: Things You Didn't Know About Things You Know Well by David Hoffman .

So, did you know:

If Jell-O is hooked up to an EEG, it registers movements virtually identical to the brain waves of a healthy adult. After a martini or before?

On average, a Twinkie will explode in a microwave in 45 seconds. Ok, tell me the truth. How many of you tried this?

There are approximately 1,750 O's in every can of SpaghettiOs. Job descriptiton: The job entails counting food elements but not eating them...

Coca Cola was first marketed as "the best cure for a hangover". A true Texas cure for a hangover: A Big Red float with vanilla BlueBell Ice Cream.

The five interlocking Olympic rings are black, blue, red, white, and yellow because at least one of these colors appears on every national flag. Hurray for our Olympic team in Vancouver. The most medals since Lake Placid. Hmm, do we have to apologize for that? I just had to say it...

Banks are commonly shaped like pigs because in the eighteenth century frugal people saved their money in earthenware jars made of dense orange clay known as pygg. Today banks are viewed as pigs...

In Pulp Fiction, the word f**k is used 257 times. Just a typical day on the golf course folks...

For you dog lovers out there that do not pick up your pooch's poop: Each instance of dog poop that goes unscooped attracts approx. 144 flies! Oh Oh yuck!

Seinfeld wasn't Jerry Seinfeld's first sitcom. He played the govenor's speechwriter on Benson, but was fired after three episodes. Why didn't he just show up the next day and pretend that he hadn't been fired?

On average, we forget 80% of what we learn on any given day. Is that before or after menapause?

Brothels Have, Ahmmm, Come a Long Way...

2010-02-19T19:22:00.000-08:00

Have you ever heard of the movie or broadway musical The Best Little Whore House in Texas? Well, that little brothel was about 25 miles from my hometown. It was located in a German and Czech community named La Grange. I will digress. One of ZZ Tops best songs EVER is La Grange. I tried to find an original video but no go, so here it is live from 2009. Leaves a little bit to be desired but still one of the best guitar songs ever http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cnMFOeEPUks Love the outfits. Anyway. La Grange loved the "Chicken Ranch" as it was called. The "madam" donated tons of money to the city and of course, took care of anybody who needed, ahemm, taking care of. College coaches would place bets that if their team won the losing team would have to pay for the winning team's "fun". Father's took their sons there to "initiate" them. During the 1950s the ranch reached its sixteen-girl maximum. On some weekends there was a line at the door, made of students and soldiers from the nearby military bases. One base even supplied transportation via helicopter to the ranch. A visit to the Chicken Ranch also became part of freshman initiation at Texas A and M University. But there was a TV news crusader by the name of Marvin Zindler, from Houston, whose name shall live in infamy. He got the then govenor of Texas, Dolph Briscoe, to shut it down. That was 1973. Then it became famous as the Dolly Parton and Burt Renoylds movie, The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. La Grange is still a lovely German Czech community known for its kolaches, sausage and bar-b-que. It's on the highway from Houston to Austin. The Fayette County Fair is held there and if you want some great food and country music, you can' t beat it.

But, Hairball, why have brothels come a long way? 'Splain please. Well, there is this article in the UK Telegraph about the use of defibrillators by prostitutes in Switzerland. Wait an minute. You're from a small town in Texas and you're talking about Switzerland prostitutes and defibrillators? Well, this blog IS about satisfying your curiosity, is it not? So the story brings to mind the turth or myth about Vice President Nelson Rockefeller. There's a golf term affiliated with the death of the VP. When you putt and the ball circles the hole and then just barely falls in, it is said to have done a Rockefeller or "died in the hole". Well, apparently, that is what happened to the VP. Do I need to point it out to you? Therefore, the need for the following:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/7259636/Swiss-prostitutes-trained-to-use-defibrillators-in-brothels-to-prevent-clients-dying.html

The last time I saw ZZ Top was in 2008, and they are looking a little longer in the tooth and definitely need to dye those beards, but they still rock....One of my favorites, in addition to La Grange, is Pearl Necklace. Today, it is nothing, but read with vigilance...

She was really bombed,
And I was really blown away,
Until I asked her what she wanted,
And this is what she had to say:
A pearl necklace.
She wanna pearl necklace.
She wanna pearl necklace.

What if You Had Two Cows: Political Science for Dummies

2010-02-13T12:49:00.000-08:00

This is floating around the internet and I found it funny:

DEMOCRATIC
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
You feel guilty for being successful.
Barbara Streisand sings for you.

REPUBLICAN
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
So?

SOCIALIST
You have two cows.
The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor.
You form a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.

COMMUNIST
You have two cows.
The government seizes both and provides you with milk.
You wait in line for hours to get it.
It is expensive and sour.

CAPITALISM, AMERICAN STYLE
You have two cows.
You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.

BUREAUCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE
You have two cows.
Under the new farm program the government pays you to shoot one, milk the other, and then pours the milk down the drain.

AMERICAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an IPO on the 2nd one.
You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows. You are surprised when one cow drops dead. You spin an announcement to the analysts stating you have downsized and are reducing expenses.
Your stock goes up.

FRENCH CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You go on strike because you want three cows.
You go to lunch and drink wine.
Life is good.

JAPANESE CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.
They learn to travel on unbelievably crowded trains.
Most are at the top of their class at cow school.

GERMAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of beer, give excellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour.
Unfortunately they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.

ITALIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows but you don’t know where they are.
While ambling around, you see a beautiful woman.
You break for lunch.
Life is good.

RUSSIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You have some vodka.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You have some more vodka.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
The Mafia shows up and takes over however many cows you really have.

TALIBAN CORPORATION
You have all the cows in Afghanistan, which are two.
You don’t milk them because you cannot touch any creature’s private parts.
You get a $40 million grant from the US government to find alternatives to milk production but use the money to buy weapons.

IRAQI CORPORATION
You have two cows.
They go into hiding.
They send radio tapes of their mooing.

BELGIAN CORPORATION
You have one cow.
The cow is schizophrenic.
Sometimes the cow thinks he’s French, other times he’s Flemish.
The Flemish cow won’t share with the French cow.
The French cow wants control of the Flemish cow’s milk.
The cow asks permission to be cut in half.
The cow dies happy.

FLORIDA CORPORATION
You have a black cow and a brown cow.
Everyone votes for the best looking one.
Some of the people who actually like the brown one best accidentally vote for the black one.
Some people vote for both.
Some people vote for neither.
Some people can’t figure out how to vote at all.
Finally, a bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which one you think is the best-looking cow.

CALIFORNIA CORPORATION
You have millions of cows.
They make real California cheese.
Only five speak English.
Most are illegals.
Arnold likes the ones with the big udders.

COLORDO CORPORATION
You have twenty cows.
They only graze on sustainable grasses.
The barn is made from recycled plastics and the pick up is electric.
Each cow's rear end has attached a $5000 gas emissions "catcher"
so as not to contribute to global warming.

A Small But Growing Culture Within the NBA

2010-02-11T08:54:00.000-08:00

Hairball, you mean other than tats, and guns, and women? I'm not an NBA fan. I can't even remember the last time I went to an NBA game. I think, maybe, it was in Dallas in 1990. So, if you're not an NBA fan, why are you writing about it? It's because whenever I see an article about something "different", I read it. And this article in today's WSJ really caught my eye. It seems that over the last decade the NBA has recruited more and more players from outside of the good old U S of A. (Hairball, you really don't watch the sport if that's news to you.) Stop being a wisenheimer and let me finish. For those of you who DON"T know this, the number of players born outside of the US has doubled over the last decade (up to 83). This year, 5 of the top 15 highest paid players are from outside the US. Ok, OK. You've made your point. Move on. The locker room atmosphere is changing. While the American players listen to there ipods, iphones to their ears, looking at laptops, the foreign born players are....drum roll please...READING! WHAT?! READING?! In the NBA?! Yep. Listen up. If you take into account the countries they come from Russia, the Ukran, Lithuania, Nigeria etc and couple this with their economic status, they could not afford nor did they have access to ipods, iphones, laptops etc. Instead, they read. Their coaches insisted that they read. So, it has carried forward. New Orleans Hornets player, Emeka Okafor, just finished The Road, Interpreter of Maladies, and The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao. Trust me. These are not light weight books. Apparently some of this is nibbling at the edges of the NBA culture. The Bucks gave all of their players Kindles for Christmas. But don't get the idea that this all hunky dory with the other players. (Do you think any of the players in the NBA would say hunky dory? I'm not going to write what I believe they would actually say.) They do make fun of "the readers". So, now you know why I read the article. Pairing reading with the NBA was such an oxymoron that to me it was like putting Obama and Cheney in a room and asking them to come up with a plan. Any plan.... Here's the link for the whole article: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704140104575057521488502914.html

Obama Agrees with Bush and Other Strange Things

2010-02-09T19:24:00.000-08:00

No no no no, Hairball. That can not be. The Prez has been laying it on thick as to this is Bush's fault and that is Bush's fault. The whole first year of his presidency is BUSH'S FAULT! Well, there is something that the Obama admin and the Bush admin can agree on...give terrorists their miranda rights! Yahoo! Quote unquote , from the Prez himself with Katie Couric, "we're not handling any of these cases any different than the Bush administration handled them through 9/11". Hmmm. Through 9/11? I wonder what happened then that made the Bush admin change their minds? For the first year of Obama's presidency he and his talking heads have been saying... John Brennan, former CIA, and now Obama's counterterrorism chief, " no longer would America's policies serve as a recruitment bonanza for terrorism" and "no longer would we be defining and indeed distorting our entire national security apparatus". They would abandon the "global war" on terror. They would close Qitmo. But, not to be a contrarian, didn't Obama say that as far as terrorists being captured on US soil, didn't he say in his campaign that they shouldn't be treated like ordinary criminals? Change we can believe in, huh? Politics as usual, if you ask me. It's CYA time folks. The mishandling of the boxer or brief bomber has sparked enough criticism that Obama has to blame, wait a minute, agree, no blame, no agree...Ahhh what can I do to CMA? Like a little boy on a play ground, Obama and his staff are screaming, Teacher, he did it first! He did it first!

Now, on to other strange things. The criticism of Sarah Palin for having notes on her hand. And the Obama admin is criticizing her for what? Say what? Obama can't walk or talk without his teleprompter. Check out the above pic of Obama at an elementary school. Now, in all honesty, he did not speak to the children using a teleprompter but why did he feel the need to speak to the press using one. Just really, really strange...And just for your FYI, I ain't a big Sarah Palin fan, you betcha....

This and That

2010-01-30T16:12:00.001-08:00

I'm a little, no, a lot concerned about the logic President Obama used in an ABC interview the other day. He said he would rather be a "good" one term president rather than a mediocre two term president. Hmmm. If you're a "good" first term president, then wouldn't you get re-elected? So, that brings me to what the word "good" means to the president. I think it's a lot like Bill Clinton and his parsing of the verb "is". Unlike that verbal spar though, this has national consequences. I think what Obama means by the word "good" is not what the American people feel is good for them but what HE feels is GOOD for the American people. So, if he gets HIS agenda passed, regardless of what the American people want, then he will consider his presidency a success and after one term, march happily into the sunset (which he doesn't have it in him to do). THAT is scary...

A different thought about something totally different: Africa. As you know, I love to travel and have been fortunate enough to have been on safari twice, the first in the early '80's to Kenya and Tanzania and then in 2001, to Zimbabwe, Botswana and South Africa. I thoroughly enjoyed both experiences. I haven't been in a while so I picked up well known travel writer Paul Theroux's Dark Star Safari. It's about his solo trip from Cairo via boat, plane, train, bus, canoe, etc to Cape Town. What truly amazed me was his negative take on monies donated by international charities and grants. According to him, these well meaning organizations have become huge crutches for both the people and the governments. People no longer grow cash crops. Why? It either makes them no money or the crops are stolen. Instead, they live off of the charities and subsistence farming. Which leads me to an article in today's WSJ about AIDS (of a different type folks) and the renewed increase in infections. Again, our well meaning intentions gone awry. What's happened? Well, under President Bush the US's contribution to fighting the spread of AIDS went up to 50% of the world's total contribution. But the result? People who once feared the disease because they saw the ravages of the disease, now see healthy infected people living longer lives. Hmmmm. So, what happens? Unprotected sex and and increase in AIDS infections. If you want to read the whole article, here is the link: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703906204575027442437944112.html?mod=WSJ_hpp_sections_world

I am going to weigh in on the Tim Tebow ad for the Super Bowl. I am pro-choice but for the life of me (poor choice of words), I do not understand why the pro-choice folks have their panties in such a wad because a pro-life ad is being run. What? They want to run a pro-choice ad about the merits of abortion? That would go over real well. There was an article I read a few years ago as to why there are no romantic comedy movies about abortion. There is absolutely nothing funny there. But there are many rom-com's about women who get pregnant and decide to keep the baby. Even Hollywood sees this. This is an ad about a mother celebrating the fact that she had her baby and look what he turned in to. This isn't changing the law or overturning Roe V Wade. The NOW ladies' just don't like the fact that the "other side" will get to voice their opinion on such a large stage...

5 Rules That Men Can Live By

2010-01-22T15:32:00.000-08:00

To counterbalance the seriousness of my last blog:

Good advice from a friend. See below.
Five rules for men to follow for a happy life.

1. It's important to have a woman who helps at home, cooks from time to time, cleans up and has a job.

2. It's important to have a woman who can make you laugh.

3. It's important to have a woman who you can trust and who doesn't lie to you.

4. It's important to have a woman who is good in bed and who likes to be with you.

5. It's very, very important that these four women do not know each other.

Sincerely,

Tiger Woods

Drinkin' the Kool-aid, Drinkin' the Kool-aid, Lookin' Like a Fool...

2010-01-21T18:32:00.001-08:00

Drinkin' the Kool-aid. (I just had to do that.) I'm writing about "drinkin' the Kool-aid" because in the last year to year and a half, I've heard it predominately used to describe the followers of Obama. As evidenced by the Scott Brown win in MA, for some that Kool-aid has turned to sour milk. But, I digress. Let's begin with where the phrase comes from. There are two different explanations for the origin of this phrase. Some people argue that it is a reference to the Kool-Aid Acid Tests administered by Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters in the 1960s. These tests were framed as challenges to the followers of the Merry Pranksters, and they involved drinking Kool-Aid that had been laced with LSD, informally known as acid. Or, the phrase “drink the Kool-Aid” is used to describe blind acceptance of something, whether it be a high stress work environment, an order from a superior, or membership in a particular group. This phrase is commonly used in American politics and corporate culture, typically by outside commentators, who might say that someone is “drinking the Kool-Aid.” People will also tell each other not to drink the Kool-Aid, in the hopes of encouraging people to open their eyes to a situation before it is too late.

I want to discuss the phrase using the "blind acceptance" definition. I'm not going to get all self righteous on you. I have imbibed of the K-A myself. I voted for Nixon with my very first vote (like the majority of Americans). But with the ensuing Watergate on top of the Vietnam war, he and the Republican party came to symbolize to me "those nasty mean old Republicans" who would do anything to stay in office and stuff their pockets with the little people's money. It's effect on me? There followed a period in which I did not take the time to listen or learn for myself. I blindly kept saying to myself "those mean old nasty Republicans". I voted for Carter as well as Dukakis (I'm so ashamed). The party of peace and of staying out of other countries business. I continued to trust what the Dems were telling me. (I was sooo innocent and trusting.) I was in that first phase of the political axiom, "if you're young and a conservative, then you don't have a heart". What happened, Hairball? We KNOW you're a conservative. Well, Bill Clinton and Monica happened. I once again felt the hubris of politicians. But, I was also getting into that second phase of the old axiom and that is, "if you're old and a liberal, then you have no brain." I began to question what was going on. I began to read and learn for myself as opposed to just listening to what politicians wanted me to hear. I questioned and I verified and I did not trust the person talking to me. I came to believe that whatever a politician was telling me was not for my benefit but for his. There is nothing different about President Obama. He soared his way to the presidency with flowing rhetoric and lots and lots of promises. Many of those promises he has not kept. He's still not paying for gas to be put in people's cars nor has he gone "line by line" to cut the pork (I don't need to give you a litany of them here. They're all over the internet). Now he has the progressives pissed at him as well as that all important "independent" vote. Let's admit it folks. Politicians lie. All of them. They're like an onion. You peel back layer by layer and what do you find in the middle? A big stink that makes your eyes water.

The only Kool-aid I now drink is my fully blinded love for my husband, my daughter, my sisters and my 3 cats. Other than that, you better be telling me the truth, bucko, because I'm lookin' for the truth, lookin' for the truth, lookin' real good, lookin' for that truth...

A Simple Explanation of What Happened with Brown/Coakley

2010-01-20T06:30:00.000-08:00

"It is to me a new and consolatory proof that wherever the people are well informed they can be trusted with their own government; that whenever things get so far wrong as to attract their notice, they may be relied on to set them right." Thomas Jefferson Jan. 8, 1789

"The people" really began to pay attention when the Senate Nebraska and Louisiana deals were cut and the unions given a special deal with health care taxes. And with everybody in congress hiding behind closed doors working on a deal, no wonder the American people became suspicious. This is why it is so imperative for "the people" to stay informed and vote with knowledge and not emotion.

One last thing. Don't bash pickem up trucks and those that drive them. We, "the people", coughed up good money to help those manufacturers survive. The democrat elite made it sound like only hay seed chewing, ignorant yahoos drive pick up trucks. Try to explain that to my MBA educated Fortune 500 retired executive friends who proudly drive their Ford 150's back and forth to Hilton Head or Florida to their 3rd or 4th homes...

Wine versus Water...Hmmmm

2010-01-17T12:10:00.000-08:00

Someone sent this to me:

To my friends who enjoy a glass of wine...
And those who don't.

As Ben Franklin said:
In wine there is wisdom,
In beer there is freedom,
In water there is bacteria.

In a number of carefully controlled trials,
Scientists have demonstrated that if we drink
1 litre of water each day,
At the end of the year we would have absorbed
More than 1 kilo of Escherichia coli, (E. Coli) - bacteria
found in faeces.
In other words, we are consuming 1 kilo of poop..

However,
We do NOT run that risk when drinking wine & beer
(or bourbon, tequila, rum, whiskey or other liquor)
Because alcohol has to go through a purification process
Of boiling, filtering and/or fermenting.

Remember:
Water = Poop,
Wine = Health.
Therefore, it's better to drink wine and talk stupid,
Than to drink water and be full of shit.

There is no need to thank me for this valuable information:
I'm doing it as a public service!