Summer Reading Plans

I belong to an online reading group that is reading “The Great Books”, as I wrote back in a post on April 2, 2006 . The group has gone through some changes since I wrote about The Great Conversation last April. The online reading group changed leadership and then it split into two different “tracks”, and then into two different groups. I am attempting to keep up with both of them.

One of the groups is (more or less) following Adler’s 10 year reading plan listed in the first volume of Encyclopedia Brittanica’s Great Books. We’re currently reading Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War. If you're interested the website is at greatconversation. I was happy when the group decided to extend the reading time through July, since I am still on Book One. But I intend to finish it by the end of July to stay on track with the group. In August we’re reading Plato’s Statesmen, Euclid’s Elements of Geometry, Book 1, and Aristotle’s On Interpretation and Politics. That should keep me busy.

The other “track” is called “Mare Nostrum” and it’s focusing on Greek History for the rest of the year and then on Roman History next year. This group is finishing Thucydides in June and moving on to Courtesans and Fishcakes: The Consuming Passions of Classical Athens by James Davidson
in July and Fox’s Alexander the Great in August. I have some reading to do…
(You can find the Mare_Nostrum reading group in yahoo groups.)

But I also have my own list of books I want to read this summer…

Books I’m currently reading:
Thucydides (as mentioned above)
The Holiest of All by Andrew Murray
Studies in Words by C.S. Lewis
Genesis and the Big Bang by Gerald L. Schroeder
Decoding the Universe by Seife
Kenilworth by Sir Walter Scott
Rahsi’s Daughter: Joheved by Maggie Anton
Under Crescent and Cross by Mark R. Cohen

Other Books I want to read:
Biography:
John Newton: From Disgrace to Amazing Grace by Johnathan Aitken
Infernal World of Branwell Bronte By Daphne DuMarier
Time to be in Earnest by P.D. James

Science:
Privileged Planet by Guillermo Hernandez
The Edge of Evolution by Michael Behe

Novels
Waverly Novels Sir Walter Scott
Gaudy Night by Dorothy Sayers
Lucky Jim by Amis
The Collector by Balladuci
The Bronte Project by Jennifer Vandover
The Nanny Diaries Emma Mclaughlin and Nicola Kraus
How Elizabeth Barrett Browning Saved my Life by Mameve Medwed
The new Jasper Fford Novel: Thursday Next scheduled to be released on July 24

I've got to run, I've got some Thudydides to read!

Be Thou My One

Be Thou my Love and my Compassion
my Beauty and my Truth
the One that I seek always
the Voice in my heart of hearts
the Goad in my conscience
my All-in-All.

Be Thou the Restorer of my righteousness
the Lifter of my head
the Lover of my soul
my Friend in every season
the One I want to please
the Source and Aim of all my passion
my one Desire
my Comfort in the multitude of my thoughts within me
the Straightener of my crooked paths
my All-in-All.

Be Thou My Answer to the unanswerable
my Speech to the unspeakable
my Groanings that cannot be uttered
my Crown of lovingkindness and tender mercies
my ever-present Help in time of need
my All-in-All

Be Thou my Glory and my Grace
my Boldness and my Access to the throne of grace
my One who answers when I call
my deep calling unto deep
my One who shows me great and mighty things which I do not know
the Delight of my soul
my One who wipes the tears from my eyes
my One who calls me to awake from my sleep
and gives me a lamp for my feet
my Way Out from every temptation
the one Spirit to which my spirit joins
my All-in-All.

Be Thou my Shelter from the storm
my safe Harbor from the rocky shore
my Beauty for ashes
my Oil of gladness for mourning
my Joy and my Strength
my All-in-All.

Be Thou my Healer
my Anchor of hope for the future
the Substance of all that is real and true in my life
the still small Voice within me
my Strong Tower
my One who leads me by still waters
my All-in-All.

Be Thou my Rose of Sharon
my bright and morning Star
my new Day dawning
the Giver of my daily bread
my Song in the night
my Heavenly Father in whom there is no variableness neither shadow of turning
my Rock of Ages
my life Sustainer
my Fountain of living waters
my All-in-All

Be Thou my Door of the sheepfold
my rivers of Living Water flowing out of my belly
the Fire in my bones that cannot be quenched
my burning Bush
my Ancient of Days
my Alpha and Omega
the Author and Finisher of my faith
my eternal Life
my All-in-All

Be Thou my Holy of Holies
my Sabbath Rest
my High Priest and Passover Lamb
my new and living Way
my Peace that passes all understanding
my Him who is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that I can ask or think
my Love that never fails
my All-in-All


Copyright 2007 by K. Masterson

Advice on Writing from Two Great Authors

Emory University recently unsealed a set of 300 letters between O'Connor and her friend Betty Hester, who donated the letters to the Emory in 1987 with the stipulation that they not be released for 20 years. Read more about it here.

Here's a bit of advice O'Connor wrote in one of the letters:

"You would probably do just as well to get that plot business out of your head and start simply with a character or anything that you can make come alive. Wouldn't it be better for you to discover a meaning in what you write rather than to impose one? Nothing you write will lack meaning because the meaning is in you."

Reading this reminded me of some other advice on writing I recently read. This is from C. S. Lewis, On Three Ways of Writing for Children.

Let the pictures tell you their own moral. For the moral inherent in them will rise from whatever spiritual roots you have succeeded in striking during the whole course of your life. But if they don't show you any moral, don't put one in. For the moral you put in is likely to be a platitude, or even a falsehood, skimmed from the surface of your consciousness...The only moral that is of any value is that which arises inevitably from the whole cast of the author's mind.

Father's Day

We had a really nice day celebrating Father's Day. The day started with church. We've been attending a local church that just opened in our area on May 1, 2007. It's the north campus of The Church on the Way that opened in Santa Clarita in an old movie theatre. The Church on the Way is a large church in Van Nuys (about 20 miles away from us) founded by Pastor Jack Hayford. They purchased a closed movie theatre in our city of Santa Clarita several years ago. It took several years of work on the building for the church to meet the zoning requirements of the city and it finally opened. (It doesn't look like a movie theatre any more.) We're enjoying attending a church that's about 15 minutes from our house.

After church we drove, literally, across the street to our new favorite restaurant, Karma Indian Restaurant (Dad's choice) for their incredible lunch buffet. Everyone in our family loves Indian food! It was also my choice for Mother's Day.

Then we hopped on over to the local Mall to catch Surf's Up. (Dad's choice) For a cartoon, it was very entertaining, even for our 15 year old son. I saw him laughing, even though after the movie he said it wasn't that funny.

The day was topped off by a dip in the Jacuzzi. I actually skipped this one but, Chuck, Eric and Aimee had a nice relaxing soak. All-in-all a very fun and relaxing family day.

Happy Father's Day to the World's Greatest Dad!

It's a Grand Ole Flag

Happy 230th Flag Day!

Paris Hilton gets a “Room of Her Own”

First the judge sentences her to 45 days. Then the 45 days is reduced to 20 something. Then the sheriff releases her due to an unnamed medical problem to serve the rest of the 45 days in in-home confinement. Then the Al Sharpton’s and others start complaining about favoritism and racismm and the judge, visibly and verbally annoyed at the sheriff, orders her back to jail. She is led in tears and hysterics from the courtroom calling for her Mommy. This time she’s sent to a maximum security prison where she supposedly can get treatment for her still unspecified medical condition.

What bothers me about all this, aside from the unrelenting media attention and insatiable appetite we Americans have for this non-news “news”, is the revealing look at the state of our justice system. I have no problem with the judge sending Paris Hilton to jail for her disregard of the laws. She is a hazard to herself and more, to any innocent person who happens to be in her path when she puts herself behind a wheel while intoxicated. She is in dire need of a life-changing experience. This jail experience could have been (and hopefully still may be) what she needs to wake up from whatever stupor she’s in and get her life on track.

It’s the power struggle between the judge’s ego and the sheriff’s ego that I find most troubling about the whole situation. If the justice system can ping-pong someone like Paris Hilton, with her expensive lawyers and cameras rolling non-stop, I can only imagine what the justice system has in store for the poor and not famous with no one to look out for them. Who has the authority to release someone early? If the sheriff has the authority, then why can the judge overrule and haul her back. Is there no clear cut line of authority? Are the authorities who have so many people in subjection to them by court order just winging it when it comes to who does what and when? Am I the only one bothered by this?

" Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Forces: You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hope and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere are with you...." (General Dwight D. Eisenhower - June 6, 1944. D-Day)

The National D-Day Memorial was dedicated on June 6, 2001 in Bedford, Virginia. Bedford, a small town in central Virginia, was chosen as the site for the memorial because it lost 21 of its sons out of a population of 3200 (in 1944). This is said to be the highest per capita loss from any one town. The Overlord Arch pictured above at the National D-Day Memorial is dedicated to the 170 soldiers who participated in the first asault wave on D-Day. Of those 170 brave soldiers, 35 were from Bedford, VA. Of the 35 boys from Bedford, 19 were killed in the first fifteen minutes of fighting and two more died later that day. Of the entire group of 170 soldiers in the first wave, 91 were killed and 64 more were wounded.

President Bush was present in Beford on June 6, 2001 to dedicate the memorial. This is an excerpt from his speech on that day:

The achievement of Operation Overlord is nearly impossible to overstate, in its consequences for our own lives and the life of the world. Free societies in Europe can be traced to the first footprints on the first beach on June 6, 1944.

What was lost on D-day we can never measure and never forget. When the day was over, America and her Allies had lost at least 2,500 of the bravest men ever to wear a uniform. Many thousands more would die on the days that followed. They scaled towering cliffs, looking straight up into enemy fire. They dropped into grassy fields sown with landmines. They overran machine gun nests hidden everywhere, punched through walls of barbed wire, overtook bunkers of concreteand steel. The great journalist Ernie Pyle said, "It seemed to me a pure miracle
that we ever took the beach at all. The advantages were all theirs, the disadvantages all ours. And yet," said Pyle, "we got on."

A father and his son both fell during Operation Overlord. So did 33 pairs of brothers, including a boy having the same name as his hometown, Bedford T. Hoback, and his brother Raymond. Their sister Lucille, is with us today. She has recalled that Raymond was offered an early discharge for health reasons, but he turned it down. "He didn't want to leave his brother," she remembers. "He had come over with him, and he was going to stay with him." Both were killed on D-day. The only trace of
Raymond Hoback was his Bible, found in the sand. Their mother asked that Bedford be laid to rest in France with Raymond, so that her sons might always be together.

Perhaps some of you knew Gordon White, Sr. He died here just a few years ago, at the age of 95, the last living parent of a soldier who died on D-day. His boy Henry, loved his days on the family farm and was especially fond of a workhorse named Major. Family members recall how Gordon just couldn't let
go of Henry's old horse, and he never did. For 25 years after the war, Major was cherished by Gordon White as a last link to his son and a link to another life.

Upon this beautiful town fell the heaviest share of Americanlosses on D-day, 19 men from a community of 3,200, 4 more afterwards. When people come here, it is important to see the town as the monument itself. Here were the images these soldiers carried with them and the thought of when they were
afraid. This is the place they left behind, and here was the life they dreamed of returning to. They did not yearn to be heroes. They yearned for those long summer nights again and harvest time and paydays. They wanted to see Mom and Dad
again and hold their sweethearts or wives or, for one young man who lived here, to see that baby girl born while he was away.
Bedford has a special place in our history. But there were neighborhoods like these all over America, from the
smallest villages to the greatest cities. And somehow they all produced a generation of young men and women who, on a date certain, gathered and advanced as one and changed the course of history. Whatever it is about America that has given us such citizens, it is the greatest quality we have, and may it never
leave us.

To learn more about the Boys from Bedford you can read a book called The Bedford Boys: One American Town's Ultimate D-Day Sacrifice by Alex Kershaw

Happy Birthday, Flowergirl

Today would be my mother's 85th birthday. Happy Birthday to the Flowergirl! Here are a couple of her poems:

Not Here

The flowergirl has journeyed far
But has she lost the way?
Is it too late to meet her
Just past the light of day?

Her garment may be streaked and worn
No cause to judge in haste
The wise man and the innocent
Will notice not the waste

See there, the love beneath the soil
The tears of hope once shed
All steps both down and up, she took
Before she bent her head.

The flowergirl will stumble on
Until the taste of earth
No gage of men is made to know
The measure of her worth.


Drained

The vacant page laughs out at me
And taunts just being there
It seems to doubt my faculty
Because I sit and stare.

Are there no words to fill the space
No thoughts that need be said?
The emptiness is lying here
As it is, in my head.

How many times I’ve shouted out
Deep down in my being
Incensed by waste and callousness
My soul with fire seething.

And yet I sit with pencil poised
No match for just one page.
No word of wisdom or of wit
I am an empty sage.

Memorial Day tribute to my Father

My father was a member of what Tom Brokaw so aptly called "The Greatest Generation". He proudly served in World War II in the United States Coast Guard. He saw action in the Pacific arena in the Philippines and in Okinawa. He passed away in 2003 at the age of 86. Here are two of the letters that he wrote to his mother while on board LST 20 in 1945.

April 20, 1945
Dear Mumsey,
March winds brought indications of new developments.....All signs pointed towards Japan. Every port we hit seemed to be packed with ships making ready.
It was quite a cargo which came aboard early in the month.....Later we opened the bow gate to receive a handful of men....All was set for invasion.
The lads turned out to be a fine group and very quiet.....Some were veterans of many campaigns....The others had been to Guam or Siapan....To kill Japanese fighting men was natural, but thoughts of the civilian suicides on Siapan were nauseating.....Ahead was nearly a half-million civilians.
Perhaps because idle minds are to be avoided, they were given a choice of painting or standing watches....An erstwhile doleful interior now wears a new paint job...Meanwhile, the Navy had given the hull a new coat...Our passengers mixed freely with the crew off as well as on duty and evidently appreciated the privileges extended them.
For 3000 miles we rolled, pitched, shuddered, shivered, shrieked, rattled, squirmed and slid through rough waters....Benches were likely to topple at any time....anything not securely fastened either rattled or flew about. A steel cabinet in my office which had never so much as moved before, broke loose from its fastenings and started for the deck....Two of the boys caught it in time.
Bunks trembled and men tossed bout in them....Sleep ended abruptly offtimes as the large swells hit....Men in the galley held on to ropes but came through with good meals....Stomachs were, however, delicate.
Dark clouds afforded a welcome shield from Jap planes.
Time, in its inexorable passage, brought us to the gateway of Japan....Above the dismal peaks of Okinawa flashed an ironic moon.
Uncle Sam had again paraded his galaxy of fighting power across the sea...It was unleashed into the Mikado’s stronghold with a fury the Jap could not begin to halt.
For many days before troops landed, shore installations had been blasted and Navy Guns long afterwards continued to cover the advance...Dive bombers obliterated enemy obstacles...Ground, Naval and air forces coordinated in successful landings along a wide front.
It was the first time in months that we were out of jungle climate...Days were cool and nights cold. Heavier clothing was issued.
Ships sprawled far beyond the horizon. Brilliant displays of Ack Ack lighted the skies for miles around as the Bettys, Vals, et al droned over….At night the sea radiated lustrous hues from reflections of blue and yellow searchlights blending with bright molten white of tracers and bursting crimson shells...Men stood behind their guns, praying, cursing, joking, silent, as they poured lead into the skies and felt the heat of bombs and shrapnel.
Many of the sons of heaven spiraled downward in a crescendo of flame as they met their ancestors and the destiny of the Rising Sun...Some exacted a stiff price.
We were within eyesight of the battle raging ashore for days...Dive bombers and tanks were being used effectively against the tenacious Jap. The foot soldier, however, still bears the brunt of battle.
Sometimes it was close...Our cargo was seriously threatened on a number of incidents...Finally there came the day of unloading.
Love,
Roy


Sunday, April 22, 1945
In Port

Dear Mumsey,
It’s Sunday – Skies are clear, winds are cool and brush off what might otherwise be a balmy sunshine.
Waters underneath are an unusually deep shade of Blue...Sunlight penetrates Neptune’s wastes and reaches the plant life and coral beneath.
Night before last was the first I had slept in my hammock in weeks...The rough waters along the way to Okinawa had made the fantail a noisy place...Each time the ship pitched it caused a slack in the ropes holding the hammock, allowing a strong wind to blow wrinkles in the canvas...as the roll reached an even keel, the ropes snapped taut and this became quite annoying.

The nights had become cold by this time, so I retired to the bunk again. I watched the celestial panorama for awhile before falling asleep....Only a few stars were out and glittered against a background of clear sky brightened by a bland moon....In the distance, clouds moved about in clusters and I wondered if they would bring rain when they closed in.
There were quite a few souvenirs to be had at Okinawa....I looked at the kimonas, pottery and other articles which were being bartered and became sick...I welcome the opportunity to come to grips with the Japanese military forces, but to buy, steal, or otherwise be a party to Plunder is something which I cannot countenance.
Love to all,
Roy



After the war he and my motherspent some time in New York city so he could attend Columbia University and pursue his dream of becoming a writer. I never heard my father discuss this dream. He became a CPA and enentually went to work for the US government He retired from civil service as an accountant. I knew he had attended Columbia University for a time but I always thought that it was to study accounting.

Here is a paper I found that explains how he decided to go to Columbia University to pursue his dream of becoming a writer:

ROY J. TOURNE
2126 COLUMBUS ST., NEW ORLEANS, LA.

LOCAL ADDRESS: 508 W. 114th, NY. 25, N.Y.
PHONE NO. CAthedral 8-7621


During those months in the Pacific aboard the LST 20, many evenings were spent atop the bow, in the company of our combat correspondent. While watching the nocturnal panorama we sometimes permitted ourselves to speculate upon a nebular future and his high praise of Columbia University is one of the principal reasons for my being here.

Plans for the future, at that time, were hardly to be considered in the realm of certainty. Christmas Eve night found the Japanese air force visiting us six times in what what was substantially more than nuisance raids.

On Christmas Day at Morotai N.E.I., troops came aboard and we found ourselves in the midst of a huge invasion force destined for Luzon, Philippine Islands. As Uncle Sam’s armada sailed into Lingayen Gulf the participants could derive some degree of comfort in knowing that we were landing at exactly the spot at which the Nipponese had begun their conquest.

Some weeks later that immortal barge, the LST 20, found herself departing Guadalcanal gaily loaded with a cargo of aviation gasoline and Marines. After a 3000 mile trip through rough waters, the jagged peaks of Okinawa came into view and the final battle of the war had begun. The Marines were landed immediately but for one reason or other, 30 days had elapsed before the authorities decided the gasoline was needed. And so, after a month of Jap suicide planes and shrapnel, the well-scarred and battered Hooligan hull discharged its volatile cargo and made an exit from the scene of battle.

After the incongruous longevity of World War 2 and the subsequent return home, with attendant rehabilitation, the inevitable problem of an occupation posed itself.

There existed the obvious courses of earning a livelihood, i.e., returning to a former employment as an accountant at Higgins Ind., Inc., or to begin a new business.

However, as I have long had a desire to write and am so fortunate as to have that ambition and belief shared by the paragon among women to whom I am married, New York was selected as the logical locale. It was decided that such an eventuality, if it be possible, would be likely to occur only through a concerted effort in that direction.

Through education, contact, advice, and criticisms, I hope to find a way to make a beginning in that field.

Memorial Day

On this Memorial Day, 2007, I want to pay tribute to the great sacrifice paid by so many for our great country. I want to thank all the families of servicemen and women currently serving in our armed forces and to let them know that my thanks and my prayers are with their loved ones.

The Perfect Coach for a Perfect Season

What is the measure of a man? I would say that one yardstick would be the influence that person has had on the younger generation. By this standard, Coach Jack Dozier, who recently passed away, was a giant of a man. I never met this man, but I owe him a debt of gratitude. He was my husband's High School football coach and the impact that he made on him was pretty much immeasurable. Being part of Coach Dozier's undefeated 1970's Woodland Highschool football team left an indelible mark of success on his life. My guest blogger for today is my husband, Chuck, and his tribute to his high school football coach. You can read more about Coach Dozier in the online Woodland Daily Democrat:
Memories of a Coach.

Here is Chuck's tribute:

The Perfect Coach for a Perfect Season

By Chuck Masterson

Browsing the “on-line” Daily Democrat yesterday, I ran across Gary Traynham’s article honoring the memory of Jack Dozier. I was not surprised, but nonetheless saddened by the news of his passing. As I grew up in Woodland, he was one of the great pillars of influence in my life. He ranks at the top along with Armand Jaques and my Eleventh grade English teacher, the late Virginia Pohl. Coach Dozier had an inestimable effect on me. He changed the direction of my life. He inspired me to pursue college athletics which ultimately led me to a career in secondary education. He always had my respect and admiration. I want honor his memory with some stories and this former athlete’s perspective of his life.

I didn’t know him as a close personal friend or co-worker. I simply knew him as my Coach. Our player - coach relationship was unique. I always liked him. He never treated me unfairly. He never spoke a derogatory word to me nor did I hear him speak negatively to any other player. During the high school years, I did hear plenty of comments about him from other students. But, I never had a reason to dislike him. The one lesson in life I learned from Jack Dozier was to place “high expectations” on teams and individuals. He taught me to set a high standard for myself and “go for it.” He was successful as a coach because his teams rose to his “high expectations.” My quality and character improved when I figured out how to carry “high expectations” over into my own personal and professional life.

As a freshman and sophomore football player, I dreaded moving up to the varsity for fear of “Dozier.” My initial encounter with him was in the Woodland High P. E. locker room at the end of track season my sophomore year. He sat on the bench next to me, placed his huge hand on my shoulder as if he were palming a basketball, and in his low, gruff voice and in his best attempt to sound fatherly said, “Son, how much do you weigh?” As my manner was back then, a sheepish reply came out, “uh… uh… 160.” He politely laughed in disbelief, made some comment about my shoe size, playing varsity football and walked away. That was his way of recruiting me. Our conversations rarely lasted more than one sentence. Usually, what came out of his mouth could be compiled in a book of classic “one-liners” such as “Katy bar at the door” and “shooting slow Caribou”. He was mimicked by more of his players than any other coach I ever played under. Standard operating procedure for a Dozier mimicker usually required lowering their chin to their chest and saying in a gruff voice, “boys, we get the ball around the end and we’ll be choppin’ in tall cotton.”

Looking back, I was fourth string on the depth chart at just about every position as a freshman. I didn’t even have the same game jersey as the starters. I was rather proud of my eight unassisted tackles as a linebacker in a “scrub” game against one of the surrounding area small town teams. As a sophomore, special teams were about the only action I saw. Craig Sharp and I were a dangerous duo as deep backs on kickoff and punt returns. We ran a wicked reverse into Tom Perry’s sideline “wall” return play. However at the beginning of my junior year, coach threw me in with the running backs. I thought, “Oh great, another year on the bench.” I was grouped with all the players and friends that I had watched from the sidelines for two years. But, coach Dozier saw something in me and took the time to develop me as a football player. He knew my true playing position. I learned that every individual on a team can be productive when he finds his “home position.” Despite yelling at me every five minutes during practice ALL season long, he never gave up on me and worked with me through my annoying personal indecisiveness and lack of confidence. The high expectations he placed on me helped me stay focused and desire to improve. His yelling was so constant that at one point early in my junior season I expressed my concern to Craig Penrose. I shared with Craig that I didn’t think coach liked me. Craig quickly answered, “Don’t worry if he likes you or not. If he ignores you, that means he doesn’t like you, and that’s when you should start to worry.” In our last game of the season, coach closed out his halftime speech in front of the whole team with an ear splitting, “Masterson, (brief pause) Run!” I felt something come to life inside of me. That was a defining moment for me. No more indecision. No more lack of confidence. No more yelling. I got it! I ran hard in the second half and that night we beat a decent McClatchy team 26-20 with Eric Wirth leading us down the field, a tough defensive effort, and nineteen active players. We had approximately twenty-two players out due to injuries that season. We never lost another game.

Only one time did I ever think my life was in danger with “big Jack.” Any footballer who played for coach Dozier, and if they had an ounce of sense, instinctively knew Jack’s exact location on the field at all times. One wrong move and he was “in your face.” It was always in your best interest to at least appear that you were working hard. A player couldn’t get complacent even when “Doz” was having a cigarette in the bleachers.
One hot evening in August of 1969, fully padded, I stood in line with the backs and receivers for passing drills. As usual, Mr. Penrose was throwing nearly uncatchable “bullet” short passes. In the same drill, he was thoroughly enjoying making everyone run downfield for 60 yard “bombs”. In my eyesight, coach Dozier was last seen in the center of the field on the fifty yard-line trying to get a 360 degree panoramic view of practice. I came up to the line and ran a full speed ten yard post pattern toward the middle of Hyman field. Craig, making me hustle, threw the ball well out in front of me. In an attempt to catch the pass, I simultaneously increased my speed and reached for the ball. The next moment felt like a head-on collision with a brick wall. At full speed, I unknowingly blindsided coach “D.” I hit him square in the back with my left shoulder and helmet. It was perhaps the most violent “clip” ever known to man. The sudden impact knocked me off my feet and to the ground on my hands and knees. Slowly, I rose to my feet feeling disoriented but relatively unharmed. Immediately, I saw “Jack” lying flat on his back with his eyes closed. “I’m dead” was my only thought or was it “he’s dead.” I looked to my right and saw Penrose, perhaps the only witness to the collision, standing frozen and staring in disbelief at the apparently unconscious head coach. A few seconds later, coach opened his eyes but didn’t move a muscle. After realizing he was not injured, he slowly stood up and looked directly at me. NOW, I’m dead! I felt like Don Knotts squaring off in front of John Wayne. After a moment of silence and maybe some thoughts about the legality of corporal punishment, the coach just grinned and said to me, “son, if can hit that hard all the time, you will go far in this game”. Again, sheepishly I replied,
uh… uh… ok coach.

As a high school football coach, I imparted his “old school DNA” into my teams. His legacy of discipline, concentration on the fundamentals, high expectations and some yelling lives on in scores of my high school players in the Los Angeles area. In 1995, my young assistant coaches respectfully told me I was the only coach in the area still wearing football cleats during games on the sidelines. Beyond my high school years as a player and coach, I realized with every new season, how special our 1970 team was. Every football player in America dreams of an undefeated season. Only a handful of players every really get the experience. It is nearly an impossible feat.

Our once in a lifetime experience was made possible by Coach Jack Dozier. He was the perfect coach for a perfect season. How he coached our team, what he taught us, how he taught us came with perfect timing the entire season. One of his biggest rants came following the “Who’s number 1” column written by the articulate and legendary local sports editor. Following game films at his house, coach Dozier chewed us out for 10 minutes downplaying the subject of being a number one ranked team. He used the contents of the article with precision and made us feel like we had not accomplished anything to that point in the season. It was the most visibly upset I saw him all season. Compared to that incident, he was only mildly unhappy with Pauly Montoya and me after the infamous Hiram Johnson “fumbilitis” game. He was mentor and master strategist. He commanded respect and obedience. He received both without question from the 1970 team. He knew every player, juniors and seniors. He knew our abilities. We spent countless hours at his house watching game films and joking about how one person could possibly own so many cases of TAB soda. At every meeting I tried to guess how many years it would take him to drink those seemingly 50,000 cases stacked in the corner of the room near the projector screen. Also, I pondered what manner of death would become the person caught stealing any of coach’s TAB. I was sure he knew at all times the exact count of cans and cases in stock. Our team was prepared for every game. No opponent ever surprised us or physically outplayed us. “Offense wins games and defense wins championships.” That is exactly what happened in 1970. Mirroring coach’s toughness, our linemen wore down and destroyed every opponent. Our defense gang tackled and was so quick and physical that many opposing team players gave up in the first quarter and held on for dear life the remainder of the game.

The last time I saw him was a few years ago at our team reunion. I walked up to greet him. For the first time, I initiated a conversation with Coach Dozier. He smiled at me, glanced at my bald head and said, “Chuck, good to see you. You are a principal. How many students are in your school?” I got three sentences out of him. We engaged in a brief but friendly conversation. I told him about my 1993 North Hollywood High JV championship season. His face lit up when I told him I used his old Power I offensive playbook from 1970. I know it took a tremendous effort for him to travel to Woodland and be with the team. I know our team meant a lot to him. The reunion wouldn’t have been the same without him. For one last time, we enjoyed his unique mannerisms and heard what turned out to be his farewell speech to all of us.
Wherever he is, he is probably running game films of the Power I, drawing line blocking schemes on a chalkboard, shooting slow Caribou, and hoarding stockpiles of TAB.
Thanks for all of it, coach Dozier. It was a great adventure.

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Very Lady Karie the Free of Chortling Chesterton Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Farewell

Tuesday was a sad night for me. No, it wasn't about saying goodbye to another American Idol contender, or the presidential candidates debate. The sad event for me on Tuesday night was the airing of the final episode of The Gilmore Girls, my favorite TV show. To me it's the greatest show ever. I don't watch that much TV, but Tuesday night, when there's a new episode of Gilmore Girls, is always something to look forward to.

I like the goofy characters, the snappy dialog, the sense of community and support that comes through the town of Stars Hollow, the sense of restoration of broken family ties between Lorelai Gilmore and her mother, and the destiny of true love between Luke and Lorelai. I'm going to miss those Gilmore Girls!

Here's a quote from tvsquad.com's Joel Keller, that echoes my sentiments:

"I've been a fan of this show since the second season, and, recent flaws and all, I'm going to miss it dearly. Thanks to Lauren Graham, Alexis Bledel, Scott Patterson, Kelly Bishop, Keiko Agena, Edward Hermann, Melissa McCarthy, and the rest of the cast for making Tuesday nights something to look forward to for seven years. And a special thanks goes out to Amy Sherman-Palladino for creating the warm, homey, quirky world of Stars Hollow and giving the show's stars such a river of great dialogue to say. A show as uniquely funny and emotional as Gilmore Girls won't come around for quite a long time."

To: Nancy Pelosi, Speaker of the House, Harry Reid, U.S. Senate Democrat Leader

Congress has passed and President Bush has vetoed H.R. 1591, the Iraq Surrender Act of 2007.
This legislation, which you worked to pass, sets a timetable for surrender. It pulls the rug out from under our troops. That is shameful and wrong.
Your actions have already emboldened the enemy. Violent jihadists now know that the elected leadership of Congress would undermine the troops by holding their funding hostage to demands for surrender.

This Congress would bring us back to the dark days of the 1970s, when the world doubted our staying power. Except only much worse. Withdraw in April 2008, and on May 1, Iraq becomes an unchecked den of terrorism at the heart of the Middle East -- a new base for the same people that struck our homeland on September 11th.

I stand with our troops. I stand for victory. I support the President's veto and will urge my representatives to vote to sustain it.
There can be one and only one outcome in Iraq: We win, they lose.

To sign the petition go to:
We Win, They lose

There's One Born Every Minute

I’m irritated. I am constantly amazed at the blatant lies that people tell. It seems that truth has fallen by the wayside. Just the latest was a message that I received on my voice mail yesterday. Here is a verbatim quote:

Uh hi, this is Phil from the county records research department. After reviewing properties in your area, from what I can see here, it looks like your property would qualify for the intra (or was in inter?) –county 1% thirty year loan program. Now it is imperative that I speak with you as soon as possible as the intra-county program does end soon. Call me at 800 777 7358.

Yeah right.

Got some time to waste...

er, I mean, to spend in sharpening and proving your mental acuity??? And don't mind being insulted...

Then try this:

the idiot test

And if that's not enough:

the idiot test 2!

Brady Bunch Battle of the Bulge

Did you notice the cool alliteration in the title? I know, it’s not that cool, oh well, I try.

Anyway, we watched the latest “Celebrity Fit Club” on TV last night. I actually only watched it because Maureen McCormack, who played Marcia Brady on the Brady Bunch, was on it.

I was sorry to hear that she’s been having a rough time because her mother passed away, and she’s been caring for her handicapped brother. She turned to food for comfort. Of course I felt bad for her, having been through the death of both of my parents. But I have to confess that I had the slightest bit of satisfaction in knowing that someone like her, the perfect teenager of my “generation” is struggling with her weight. We certainly aren't getting any younger.

I’m sure she’ll be back to “fighting weight” in no time. Oh Marcia, Marcia.

Comforting Words

Though an army may encamp against me,
My heart shall not fear;
Though war may rise against me,
In this I will be confident.

One thing I have desired of the Lord
All the days of my life,
To behold the beauty of the Lord,
And to inquire in His temple.

For in the time of trouble
He shall hide me in His pavilion;
In the secret place of His tabernacle
He shall hide me;
He shall set me high upon a rock.

Psalm 27:3,4,5

Trying to make sense of a tragedy

I'm grieving for the innocent victims of a lunatic murderer at Virginia Tech. I know of only one place to go for comfort, into the arms of the One who comforts the comfortless, heals the brokenhearted and calms the raging seas. I'm praying for all the bereaved family members and friends, those injured, and those traumatized by the experience.

This Bequest of Wings

He ate and drank the precious words,
His spirit grew robust;
He knew no more that he was poor,
Nor that his frame was dust.
He danced along the dingy days,
And this bequest of wings
Was but a book.
What liberty A loosened spirit brings!

Emily Dickinson


Books I've Read in 2007:

The Princess and the Wise Woman by George McDonald

Emily Bronte and her Sisters

The Book of Hours by Davis Bunn

Codex by Lev Grossman

The Good Nanny by Benjamin Cheever

The Jane Austen’s Guide to Manners by Josephine Ross

Lileth by George McDonald

Phantastes by George McDonald

Middlemarch by George Eliot

An Acceptable Time by Madeleine L'Engle

Amazing Grace, William Wilberforce and the Heroic Campaign to End Slavery by Eric Metaxas

The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde

Christ in the Passover by Cecil and Moishe Rosen

The Fight for Jerusalem by Dore Gold

Prometheus Bound by Aescylus

He is Risen

And behold, there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord descended from haven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat on it. His countenance was like lightning, and his clothing as white as snow. And the guards shook for fear of him, and became like dead men. But the angel answered, and said to the women, Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified.

He is not here; for He is risen, as He said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay.

And Jesus came and spoke to them, saying, All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,
Teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you; and lo:
I am with you always, even to the end of the age.

Matthew 28

This Bequest of Wings

He ate and drank the precious words,
His spirit grew robust;
He knew no more that he was poor,
Nor that his frame was dust.
He danced along the dingy days,
And this bequest of wings
Was but a book.
What liberty A loosened spirit brings!"

Emily Dickinson

Books I've Read in 2007:

The Princess and the Wise Woman by George McDonald

Emily Bronte and her Sisters

The Book of Hours by Davis Bunn

Codex by Lev Grossman

The Good Nanny by Benjamin Cheever

The Jane Austen’s Guide to Manners by Josephine Ross

Lileth by George McDonald

Phantastes by George McDonald

Middlemarch by George Eliot

An Acceptable Time by Madeleine L'Engle

Amazing Grace, William Wilberforce and the Heroic Campaign to End Slavery by Eric Metaxas

The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde

Christ in the Passover by Cecil and Moishe Rosen

The Fight for Jerusalem by Dore Gold

Passover Menu

I love to cook ethnic dishes. In fact I really only enjoy cooking for special occasions and cooking either something ethnic or something I haven’t done before. My mom was the best cook ever. Growing up French in New Orleans, we ate gumbo, jambalaya, panne meat, oyster stuffing, shrimp creole, stuffed mirliton, po-boys, doberge cake, king cake, and more, just thinking about it makes me hungry. So for traditional holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas, I like to cook Cajun/Creole.

Once, I attempted to cook a traditional Indian meal for a visiting minister from India. I also invited some British friends over when I attempted to make Yorkshire Pudding, actually it turned out pretty good. The Indian meal was okay, but when I asked our friend if it tasted Indian, he told me it was “American Indian”. Okay, it was the spices. I also had my two kids who were eating with us so I couldn’t burn their little mouths. Real Indian food is SPICY! I’m getting my appetite juices ready for tonight: there’s a new Indian restaurant in town and Chuck and I are going to try it out tonight.

Well all of that was by way of introduction to our family’s Passover menu. I’ve been cooking Passover dinner now for a few years, so I have my menu pretty much down. Since I don’t have any background in Jewish cuisine, I’ve had to get everything from cookbooks. I’m getting quite good at making Matzah Ball soup, if I do say so myself. I have a great recipe that requires boiling a whole chicken with some vegetables on the first day, removing the chicken and vegetables and cooling it overnight, defatting the broth, and then starting over with another chicken and more carrots and onions. Means you have to plan ahead because it takes at least two days to cook. Plus, my daughter Aimee is quite an expert Matzah Ball roller, so the soup was good.

Last year I added a potato kugel and cooked it again this year. I’m not going to get my cookbook to look up the names, but it requires some great Yiddish ingredients which include schmaltz and gribbbez?. Please excuse me if I’ve butchered the names, like I said I’m not going to look them up. But schmaltz is melted chicken fat and the gr. stuff is made when you take the chicken fat, melt it and cook thin onion strips and chicken skin for about 45 minutes so it gets really crunchy. Then you mix it in with boiled potatoes, add some chicken broth mash it up and bake them in a casserole for a potato kugel.

Then there’s the charoset, which is a mixture of apples, walnuts, raisins, cinnamon and grape juice or wine. Charoset is a reminder of the mortar used by the Israelites to make bricks for the Egyptians. It goes on the Seder plate and I also serve it with dinner. Then there’s steamed asparagus with lemon juice, avocado salad, matzahs, oh yes and roast lamb. For dessert we always have this great chocolate cake made with matzah meal, grated apple, grated semisweet chocolate and six egg beaten egg whites and sugar. Since there’s no baking powder, soda, etc. to make the cake fluffy, the egg whites and the grated apples do the trick.

Now what are we having for Easter?

A Visit to the "Old City"

Okay, it wasn’t really the Old City of Jerusalem but it was as close as we could get without spending thousands of dollars on a trip to Israel. The Jewish Feast of Passover starts tonight. Our family likes to celebrate Passover. It has become a family tradition, even though we are Christians.

There are many reasons why I love to celebrate Passover, not the least of which is that my Lord Jesus Christ inaugurated the New Covenant at a Passover seder, saying “Do this in remembrance of Me”. So we celebrate Passover in remembrance of The Passover Lamb, Jesus Christ, who was slain for us.

Because I don’t have a family background in celebrating Passover, I’ve sort of put together our own family traditions through the years. I picked up a Seder plate when I visited the Holy Land many years ago, and an “Elijah cup” sometime later. But I thought this year it was time to upgrade our Passover equipment. I looked online for Judaica stores but you really have to see the stuff before purchasing it. So a trip to the Fairfax district of Los Angeles was in order.
Here are a few of the stores we visited:
Ufaratza Judaica Center
The Mitzvah Store
Shmulies Judaica
Solomon’s Bookstore

I haven’t been to the Fairfax district, where most of the Jewish stores in Los Angeles are located, since I was studying Hebrew at UCLA in the 1980s. I remember I picked up a pocket version of the Hebrew Scriptures, called the Tanakh, which I still have. Actually, I have been in the area since then, but for a different purpose. When I was driving my kids all over Los Angeles for auditions we visited W. Pico and Fairfax Blvd. many times. It’s a lot more fun to go there for the purpose of browsing in Jewish stores than rushing to get to an audition on time, finding the address and a parking spot and rushing back on the freeway to try to get kids back in time for sports, acting classes etc. Whew, I don’t miss that one bit.

On our trip we bought a Matzah tray, an afikomen bag, portion cups for the seder plate, silver (plate) candle sticks, and a wine fountain. The wine fountain (pictured above) is the coolest. It is certainly not required for the seder, but it looked so cool that Chuck and I both decided we had to have it. You pour the wine in using the top cup and it comes spurting out into eight little cups below. Since four cups of wine (or grape juice) are obligatory for the service, this will come in handy and did I say it’s really cool too.

Where have all the heroes gone? They're LOST!

This is Wednesday and tonight a new episode of Lost will be aired. Lost and Gilmore Girls are the only two TV shows that I try to watch regularly (well okay in the interest of full disclosure, I also try to keep up with Survivor but I think it’s more out of habit than any particular thrill with the show. We’re probably the only family in the country that doesn’t watch American Idol.) But Lost is really my favorite.

At least it has been. Last season I started getting frustrated with the slow-moving story line. It seemed like you would watch the show for a whole hour and barely anything would happen. I was just thinking while watching, “get on with it already”. So this season has been much more exciting as far as the plot moving along. We’re getting some more information about “the others” and as implausible as it all seems it at least is moving forward.

This season, though, I have another complaint. My complaint is that the characters are becoming completely unlikable. The two characters who had (in my opinion) the most heroic and selfless characteristics have turned into self-serving jerks. I was disappointed with Jack when he operated on the “other leader” (okay, I don’t remember his name). But in the middle of the operation Jack deliberately cut some kind of blood vessel and threatened to let him bleed to death unless his demands were met. Now, I know you could argue that “the ends justified the means” and that he was bargaining for the life of his friends. But, what came to my mind was the Hippocratic Oath: Do no harm. Didn’t he swear an oath as an MD that he would never deliberately harm a patient? Is there any circumstance that would make it okay for an MD to threaten to murder a patient in the middle of an operation. Sure it’s just TV, but if I’m going to relate to these characters, I want to see at least some of them live up to standards of decency.

Then last week, John Locke, the guy who was healed when he crashed on the island from paralysis of his legs, went ahead and blew up the submarine that was going to take Jack off the island and back to civilization. (Yes, I know, it’s just a story and what would happen to Jack’s part if he left the island? That is not my problem) But, it was a very self-serving and selfish action to blow up the means of rescue for all those stranded, lost victims of the airplane crash. I expected more from John Locke. So that is why I’m annoyed with Lost this season. But I’m still looking forward to watching the new episode tonight.

Increasing learning

I was reading the book of Proverbs and I came across a great one for Homeschool and really for any kind of learning:

Proverbs 16:21
The wise in heart will be called prudent
and sweetness of the lips increases learning

If I really want to increase learning during homschool, I need to make sure that what comes out of my lips is sweet. I'm not talking not demanding excellence but about being more encouraging and patient. I read this over the weekend and started applying it this week. I've already noticed that school is a lot more fun and I'm getting better results.

Jane Austen on journaling and letter writing
by way of Henry Tilney in Northanger Abbey:

"Not keep a journal! How are your absent cousins to understand the tenour of your life in Bath without one? How are the civilities and compliments of every day to be related as they ought to be, unless noted down every evening in a journal? How are your various dresses to be remembered, and the particular state of your complexion, and curl of your hair to be described in all their diversities, without having constant recourse to a journal? My dear madam, I am not so ignorant of young ladies’ ways as you wish to believe me.

It is this delightful habit of journaling which largely contributes to form the easy style of writing for which ladies are so generally celebrated. Everybody allows that the talent of writing agreeable letters is peculiarly female. Nature may have done something, but I am sure it must be essentially assisted by the practice of keeping a journal."

BBC News has an article about a "new and improved" portrait of Jane Austen which was commisioned for the cover of a new edition of a memoir by Austen's nephew. Apparently the editors of the work decided that the original version of the portrait was "too unattractive". Humph!

St. Patty's Day

Happy St. Patrick's Day! I'm still trying to find something green today to wear. Chuck took Aimee to her gymnastics workout this morning. Tragically, Aimee didn't have a green leotard to wear today. She was concerned that she was going to get pinched but we managed to find a hair scrunchie with some green in it so hopefully that will do the trick.

My most vivid memory of St. Patrick's day growing up was the one when my brother and I asked my dad why he wasn't wearing green. He just kind of grunted and didn't answer so my brother taped a piece of green paper to his back. When Dad discovered it he pulled it off and told us that he hated St. Patrick's day. He refused to wear green because growing up he always had to fight Irish kids. He was a lone French boy growing up in the Irish Channel section of New Orleans and I guess back in those days names like the "French Quarter" and the "Irish Channel" actually meant something.

I've concluded that one benefit he derived from such tough experiences is that he learned to handle his fists so well that he turned into a boxer. He had quite a successful amateur boxing career and even a brief pro stint. Of course all this was way before I was born. When my Granmere, his mother, found out about his boxing ,which I guess he had kept secret from her, she convinced him to give it up.

Despite my father's early experiences with the Irish, when I married an Irish man, I didn't hear a word about it from my dad, who loved Chuck like a son. And now my son proudly wears on his belt buckle a shamrock and the saying, "Proud to be Irish".

For an interesting article on the real St. Patrick click here.

Happy Pi Day

Today is March 14,and I almost missed it, but just in the nick of time I wanted to wish you a heartfelt Happy Pi Day! On 3-14, actually at 1:59, math geeks everywhere celebrate. It is also appropriately Albert Einstein's birthday.

Here's a link to an NPR article about a guy who holds the North-American record for reciting the most digits of pi (too bad he only made it to the 12,887th digit). If you have nothing better to do you can actually hear him recite it.

Virtual Church

Our church, Harvest Rock, now webcasts both Sunday morning services live. Sunday morning services are at 9am and 11am California time. It comes in handy when the family is under the weather, or too lazy to get up and get dressed for church. If you want to check out the service, go to the church web page and click toward the bottom right on the Live Webcast button during one of the service times.

The week that was

I'm glad this week is over. My son was sick most of the week with a fever and sore throat that he caught when he went snowboarding last Sunday. He missed two and a half days of school.

Then Aimee started coughing last night and woke up with a fever. She missed gymnastics today and hasn't moved out of bed all day. I also started feeling feverish this morning and took to the couch. I haven't moved much from it all day either.

Chuck has been taking care of two sick kids and cleaning the house all day. I spent most of the day on the couch reading "Amazing Grace" by Eric Metaxas, the book on which the movie is based. I still haven't seen the movie but I'm looking forward to it. The book was inspiring. Wilberforce's life story shows clearly that one person fueled by a mission from God can change the world.

Trying to Use Words

I just finished reading The Good Nanny by Benjamin Cheever. It caught my eye in the library. I’m focusing on reading books that fit into a few themes, either Classics, books about books, biographies, some science, mostly popular physics or mathematics or devotionals.

This book didn’t seem to fit in any of those categories but the nanny theme caught my attention. I read Anne Bronte’s Agnes Grey last year and also on the same theme but not quite the same level or time frame, You’ll Never Nanny in This Town Again. I haven’t read The Nanny Diaries yet but it’s on my list of books I want to read this year. So I picked up The Good Nanny.

There are a number of things not to like about this book, including mostly unlikable characters and a fairly improbable ending, but I was surprisingly pleased by it. It didn’t take long for me to notice that this really was a “book about books” or at least a book about people in the book industry – editors and authors.

I especially enjoyed the section where the main character decides to finally write the novel he’s been planning to write for years – full time. He starts off staring at a blank page, writes the title, and proceeds to fill several pages with first lines from other people’s books, including the well known, “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.

Then he gets out his quotation book. Here's an excerpt:

His quotation book was a black plastic binder into which he’d inserted the pages of his quotation file. He flipped to a quote from H.L. Mencken: “Writing, they all say, is the most dreadful chore ever inflicted upon human beings. It is not only exhausting mentally; it is also extremely fatiguing physically. The writer
leaves his desk, his day’s work done, with his mind empty and the muscles of his back and neck full of a crippling stiffness. He has suffered horribly that the babies may be fed and beauty may not die.”
He’d always felt Mencken meant to be funny now he wondered…

He reread the famous Flaubert quote:
“Human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music that will melt the stars.”
He considered this a grand hyperbole. Maybe it wasn’t hyperbole at all…

The longing among the people he knew who wanted to be writersnow seemed comical It was as if all the beef cattle out in the west had yearned for a trip to the Chicago stockyards.

I love the dry humor. You can just imagine that the author has lived this and is speaking from his own experience. I was also amused because I keep a quotation book just like this myself.

Later on in the same day, after being rejected by a literary agent the narrative goes on:

He went back downstairs and got his T.S. Eliot. Turned to
the dog-eared page and copied:

“Trying to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure.”

Reading this made the whole book worthwhile in my book. Did you notice that it’s the same quotation from East Coker that I posted on Friday? Well I did. I love it when seemingly random things are connected in this way.

So I heartily recommend the book to any aspiring author or book-lover. Not so much for inspiration but for the humor.

By the time I finished the book I was curious about the author, Benjamin Cheever. The name, at least the Cheever part, sounded familiar, so I googled him. He is the son of the Pulitzer Prize winning author John Cheever, which is why the name sounded so familiar. Benjamin Cheever has some well-written and entertaining essays on the Web about getting published. Here are some links if you’re interested:

The Writing Life

Selling Ben Cheever

Celebrating Books

Did you know that March 1 was World Book Day? That is if you live in the United Kingdom or Ireland it is.
The organizers polled around 2000 people for their list of top 10 books they can't live without. The results are listed below and more information is available on the web page. I find it somewhat disturbing that the Bible comes in 6th, behind Harry Potter and To Kill a Mockingbird.

If you missed the celebration on March 1, as I did, there is another (competing?) world book day celebrated on April 23. April 23 is World Book and Copyright Day. It was established by UNESCO in 1995.

According to the website, April 23 is a symbolic date in world literature, marking the birth or death of such writers as Miguel de Cervantes, William Shakespeare and the Inca Garcilaso de la Vega.


Here is an excerpt from the (March 1) world book day web page:

World Book Day 2007
In a survey to mark the tenth anniversary of World Book Day, a survey has been conducted to find the ten books the nation cannot live without. Over 2000 people voted online at www.worldbookday10.com

Results reveal that Pride and Prejudice tops the list, with Tolkein’s fantasy trilogy, The Lord of the Rings, in second place. Two of the Bronte sisters appear alongside Charles Dickens, showing that classics are still the most essential reads. The Bible is also still relevant to many, coming in sixth in the poll.
The top ten are as follows:
1) Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen 20%
2) Lord of the Rings – JRR Tolkein 17%
3) Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte 14%
4) Harry Potter books – J K Rowling 12%
5) To Kill A Mockingbird – Harper Lee 9.5%
6) The Bible 9%
7) Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte 8.5%
8) 1984 – George Orwell 6%
9)His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman 6%
10) Great Expectations – Charles Dickens .55%

Coffee Spoons

I haven't posted in a while. I have a list of all kinds of posting ideas but haven't had the time or energy to write them up. One thing I'm very happy about is that I did our taxes early this year. I don't think I've ever got them in this early. Last year I had to file an extension and barely got them done before the extension ran out, so this is a great accomplishment for me.

I e-filed with Turbo Tax on Feb. 19! I checked our account today and both the federal and state refunds are posted. Yeah!

On another note, I came across a news article about Hilary Clinton's thesis from Wellsley which had been hidden from public view until recently. Okay, so I'm not going to comment on this except to say, I wonder what she's hiding? Here's the article from MSN: Reading Hillary Rodham's hidden thesis

But I was intrigued by the title of the thesis: 'There Is Only the Fight...’: An Analysis of the Alinsky Model . "There is only the fight" is a quote from T.S. Eliot's East Coker from Four Quartets.Here is a portion of the poem:

So here I am..
Trying to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure
Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it.
And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate,
With shabby equipment always deteriorating
In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,
Undisciplined squads of emotion.
And what there is to conquer
By strength and submission, has already been discovered
Once or twice, or several times, by men whom one cannot hope
To emulate - but there is no competition -
There is only the fight to recover what has been lost
And found and lost again and again: and now, under conditions
That seem unpropitious.
But perhaps neither gain nor loss.
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.

Amazing Grace

Amazing Grace, the movie about William Wilberforce, the 18th century British reformer who put and end to slavery in Great Britain is due to be released on Friday. Wilberforce is one of my heroes and I'm looking forward to seeing the movie. It was released by Walden Media, the company that also recently released Bridge to Terabithia.

Micheal Flaherty, President of Walden Media, talked about the vision of his company to inspire and to promote reading good books in a recent talk at Hillsdale college:

"You are what you read. We are shaped and influenced by the books that we read. They prepare us for more than interesting conversations—they actually prepare us to face real crises that we encounter in life. Few people would dispute this simple statement, so let’s ask a simple related question: What are we reading today?

Walden Media was started several years ago by myself, Cary Granat, and Phil Anschutz. We wanted to create a company dedicated to recapturing imagination, rekindling curiosity, and demonstrating the rewards of knowledge and virtue. All of our films would be based on great books, great people, and great historical events. They would be made by the best talent in entertainment and they would all be linked to educational materials developed by some of the best talent in education. We were taking Henry David Thoreau’s famous advice—to march to the beat of a different drummer—to Hollywood, which is why we decided to name our company after Thoreau’s most famous book, Walden."

Read the entire speech here:
Let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage

Travesty of Justice

It's President's Day and I'm enjoying a relaxing morning off. I came across a blog post this morning at odd time signatures that reports on a very disturbing criminal conviction in Connecticut. A middle-school substitute teacher has been convicted of exposing seventh-grade children to child pornography and is set to be sentenced in March. She is facing up to a forty year prison term.

I spent about an hour this morning reading the details of the case and it is appalling that she was convicted. I encourage everyone to donate to her defense fund at her blog and to contact officials involved to get this overturned and her good name restored.

I have been victimized by malicious ad-ware popups and I know how easy it is to become a victim. This woman is clearly a victim and not a perpertrator of a crime. Why not go after the people who create such malicious pop-ups for prosecution?

Top Ten Most Romantic Books

The Romantic Novelists' Association of the UK polled its members to find out what they considered the most romantic novel ever written. The 700 member association voted Pride and Prejudice to be the Most Romantic Book of All Time!

Click here to read the whole article.

The top ten were:

1. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
2. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
3. Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
4. Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier
5. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
6. Katherine by Anya Seton
7. Persuasion by Jane Austen
8. Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy
9. The Thorn Birds by Colleen McCullough
10. Frenchman's Creek by Daphne du Maurier

I like this list since it includes some of my favorite books. I guess I really am a romantic at heart. The only two I haven't read are Katherine and Frenchman's Creek. I'll have to put them on my "to read" list.

Thanks to the Book-a-rama blog for the link.

Hard Rock Invitational

We had a nice family trip to Phoenix, Arizona this past weekend. We drove there on Friday for a gymnastics competition on Saturday. It was Aimee’s first out-of-state gymnastics competition. It was a fun trip even though competitions are still nerve wracking for me. It was a huge competition, with over 1200 gymnasts from all over the country competing in all levels and age groups over the weekend. The competition was sponsored by the Hard Rock Café and that made for some fun differences from other meets we’ve been to.

The meet was held at the downtown Civic Center. It was spacious and airy. This was a contrast to many of the competitions which are held in small gyms with spectators crammed in like sardines in suffocating heat. The medals were guitar shaped and the team 1st place awards (normally a trophy) were real Fender guitars. Aimee won three event medals and placed 5th all around. Her team also won the 1st place team award. The national anthem was performed live sans lyrics by a solo guitarist. And the gymnasts were treated to a gymnast party with a live band at a club in downtown Phoenix on Saturday night.

It was lots of fun to see all these little girls having a good time rocking out on the dance floor. Unfortunately for my fifteen year old son Eric, the vast majority, if not all of the girls, were pre-teen. Aimee was exhausted after competing earlier in the day so we only stayed for about an hour and a half. Besides it was difficult trying to hold conversations with the other parents over the loud music. All in all it was a nice change of pace for the weekend.

Go Colts!

This is why I was rooting for the the Colts and why I'm very glad they won. This is not funny and it's not cute. It's mean-spirited and ugly and all the other words that I don't want to write here. I mean, we're talking about a game here, but Katrina was no game. I'm sure that those who lost loved ones and those who lost their homes and communities don't think it's funny either.

A Literature Map

Enter your favorite author and see who "resides" nearby:

The Literature Map

George MacDonald's Poetry

I'm enjoying George MacDonald's Diary of an Old Soul:

Here are some of my favorites:

Be thou the well by which I lie and rest:
Be thou my tree of life, my garden ground;
Be thou my home, my fire, my chamber blest,
My book of wisdom, loved of all the best;
Oh be my friend, each day still newer found,
As the eternal days and nights go round!
Nay, nay – thou art my God, in whom all loves are bound!

Come to me, Lord: I will not speculate how,
Nor think at which door I would have thee appear,
Nor put off calling till my floors be swept,
But cry, “Come, Lord, come any way, come now.”
Doors, windows, I throw wide; my head I bow,
And sit like some one who so long has slept
That he knows nothing till his life draw near.

Were there but some deep, holy spell, whereby
Always I should remember thee – some mode
Of feeling the pure heat-throb momently
Of the spirit-fire still uttering this I!
Lord, see thou to it, take thou remembrance’ load:
Only when I bethink me can I cry;
Remember thou, and prick me with love’s goad.

International Holocaust Remembrance Day

Today is the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau, the largest Nazi concentration camp. It has been named International Holocaust Remembrance Day.

Why Study Latin Part II

This post is a follow-up to a previous post about studying Latin.There's another reason to study Latin. Well, it worked out well for the 16th century playwright Ben Johnson. I'm reading a very funny and entertaining book called,

The Know-It-All, One Man's Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World

by A.J. Jacobs. Here is what he reveals about Ben Johnson:

I knew a lot of things could save your life -- a helmet, a good lawyer, cholesterol medication -- but this one was new to me: the ability to read Latin. If you know you E Pluribus from your Unum you'll live a lot longer. At least if you're an accused criminal in 16th - century England, as was Ben Jonson.

I remembered Jonson vaguely -- he was the second most successful Elizabethan Playwright after Shakespeare, the Pepsi to the Bard's Coke. What I didn't know was that he was a rascal -- an angry, stubborn man with a homicidal temper. In 1958, the same year he had his first big hit play -- Every Man His
Humour -- Jonson killed a fellow actor in a duel.

The strange part, though, is how he escaped capital punishment. The accused playwright invoked a legal loophole called "benefit of clergy." The concept of benefit of clergy started in 12th century England when the church convinced the
king to offer immunity to priest and other ecclesiastical officials. By the 16th century, however, the definition of "clergy" had stretched to include anyone who could read the Fifty-First Psalm in Latin.

On the one hand, this is a crazy law -- elitist, unjust, arbitrary. On the other hand, it's kind of nice that reading and scholarship were once so highly valued that they had the very tangible benefit of stopping a hatchet from removing your head from your shoulders. It's beautifully clear-cut: You read Latin, you live. You don't read Latin, you'll soon be experiencing a nice case of rigor mortis (though you won't know the definition of rigor mortis, you illiterate jackass).

See it pays to learn Latin.Which is why I'm still plodding through Wheelock's Latin.

Connection of the Day

I love the World Wide Web. It works the way my mind works. Try as I might to stay on a sequential course in my thought life, my mind is constantly darting off to chase a rabbit down a hole. Which brings me to my connection of the day. Alice in Wonderland and Liddell, of Liddell Scott Greek lexical fame. (Let me digress just a moment to mention last night's episode of Gilmore Girls. I love the dialog in this show. Lorelai's monlogue last night on her thoughts jumping around was masterful and strangely apropos to my subject.I wish I had a transcript of it, maybe I'll sit down and transpose it from the TiVo recording, Nah, maybe I can find it online.)

I was browsing through I book I just bought called The Smithsonian's Book of Books. (List Price around $25, on sale for $12 which was further marked down to around $6 because the B. Dalton bookstore in the local mall is going out of business and everything in the store is half price. I picked up a bunch of books, more later on this, maybe.) Anyway, I came across a picture in the book similar to the one above of Young Alice Liddell, who was the "muse for whom Oxford deacon Charles Dodgson, better known as Lewis Carroll, created Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1865)." I thought, "That name, Liddell, sounds familiar." It's the first part of a Greek lexicon that I own called Liddell and Scott. Actually there are several of them, I have the "Little Liddell" and the big Liddell, the pint sized version and the big, heavy tome that is the standard for classical Greek lexicons.

So I googled Alice Liddell ,and she is indeed the daughter of Liddell who was dean of Oxford and a friend of Lewis Caroll, who btw, was also a good friend of George MacDonald, another author I'm currently reading. George MacDonald's children are said to be the ones who encouraged him to publish Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Isn't life grand! At some level everything is connected, some connections are just more obvious than others.

In honor of the showing of Jane Eyre on PBS tomorrow, here is the text of a recently discovered letter from Charlotte Bronte's father, The Rev. Patrick Bronte. The letter was written shortly after the death of Charlotte. Charlotte was the last of Patrick's six children to die. The 78 year old minister had buried his wife and all six of his children. The letter sheds new light on his love for his children. For more on this see:
Bronte's Father not so Savage and the BronteBlog post:

And Now They are all Gone

Letter of Patrick Brontë to Charles Longley, Bishop of Ripon, later Archbishop of Canterbury.Lambeth Palace Library MS. 4545, ff.208-209
Haworth,nr. Keighley,April 10th 1855

My Lord Bishop,Amongst the various letters of kind sympathy which we have received, Your Lordships Letter gives us especial pleasure – It is worthy of One who is justly esteemed the Father of His Clergy, and I will retain it amongst my most valued treasures, as long as I shall live. “A word in due season, how good is it”. And most assuredly, if a season of sorrow, needs a word of consolation and support ours is that season. I have lived long enough to bury a beloved wife, and six children – all that I had. I greatly enjoyed their conversation and company, and many of them were well fitted for being companions to the wisest and best. Now they are all gone. Their image and memory remain, and meet me at every turn – but they themselves have left me a bereaved old man. I hop’d and wish’d that the Lord would spare them, to see me laid in my grave, but the Lord has ordered it otherwise, and I have seem them all laid, in that place “where the wicked cease from troubling And the weary are at rest”. I have not only my own sorrow to bear, but I am distress’d for Mr. Nicholls whose grief is very great. His union with My Daughter was a happy one. They were well fitted for each other, and naturally look’d forward, to future scenes of happiness for a long time to come – but the Lord gave, and the Lord took early away. May we both be able from our hearts to say blessed be the name of the Lord. But I have often found and find in this last sad trial, that it is frequently extremely difficult to walk entirely by faith, and sincerely, to pray, “Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven”. Mr. Nicholls, who is every thing I could desire, to the Church and to me, intends to stay with me, during the brief remainder of my life. May we beg that your Lordship will sometimes remember us in your prayers?

I remain, My Lord Bishop,Your Lordship’s MostObedient Humble servant,Patrick Bronte

BBC's Jane Eyre on PBS

A new version of Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre is making its US debut this weekend on PBS. Part one of the four-hour miniseries will air this Sunday, January 21. (Locally on KCET at 1pm and 9pm.) I for one am looking forward to it.

Answered Prayer

When I started this blog over a year ago, one of the goals I had was to reconnect and stay connected with friends and family across the country and world. I’m very thankful that I’m now in touch with my cousin Judy, who lives in Baton Rouge, by email and through this blog.

About a week ago I received an email from a dear old friend named Patty. I haven’t seen or heard from her in I don’t know how long, probably twenty years or so. Patty and I were missionaries together in Alabama in 1979. She was the best thing going for me in what was quite possibly the worst year of my life, the year that my mother died.

It was really a thrill to hear from her. She apparently googled me and found me on my previous employer’s website and then my blog. It’s working! Patty, let’s stay in touch!

Who dat?

Go SAINTS!

My parents would be so happy! Finally, after forty NFL seasons, the New Orleans Saints have won a playoff game.

Saints give New Orleans another reason to smile.

SAG Awards

I'm very proud that both of my children are members of the Screen Actors Guild. As members, they are entitled to vote for the SAG Awards recipients. They recently received their ballots to vote for the awards. I also discovered that they were eligible to RSVP to request an invitation to purchase tickets to attend the awards show. I'm not sure, but I think they missed the deadline to RSVP for the ticket lottery. Let's see $1200 for two tickets... Here is the info from the SAG website for purchasing tickets.

Tickets are not available to the general public, and are by invitation only.Tickets are $600 each. If you are an active paid-up SAG member and would like to request an invitation to purchase tickets, please complete the online form below. Invitations will be mailed in December. Due to the limited seating in our venue, we will place all returned RSVPs into a drawing that will be held in January. Members drawn will be notified. Members not drawn will receive a refund. There is a limit of two tickets per member.

The Screen Actors Guild award show will be shown live on TBS and TNT on Saturday, Jan. 28, 1007. I think I'll wait until I get an invitation to the Academy Awards.

Organizationally Challenged

I want to be neat and perfectly organized. I really do. Every Tuesday I spend the day with a woman who epitomizes organization to me. She has six children who are all home-schooled (well except the baby, who is almost one). Her house is beautifully decorated and always clean and neat. Everything is in its place. I want to be like her but somehow it's an elusive goal for me. We go to her house every Tuesday for a homeschool co-op.

I'm not giving up on my quest to be more organized. I want a neat and tidy house. I want a well-planned schedule. But I did notice with great interest a book I came across at Barnes and Noble's last week called: A Perfect Mess - The Hidden Benefits of Disorder: How crammed closets, cluttered offices and on the fly planning make the world a better place.

The New York Times mentions the book in an article entitled: Saying Yes to Mess. Here's an excerpt from the article:

But contrarian voices can be heard in the wilderness. An anti-anticlutter
movement is afoot, one that says yes to mess and urges you to embrace your
disorder. Studies are piling up that show that messy desks are the vivid
signatures of people with creative, limber minds (who reap higher salaries than
those with neat “office landscapes”) and that messy closet owners are probably
better parents and nicer and cooler than their tidier counterparts. It’s a
movement that confirms what you have known, deep down, all along: really neat
people are not avatars of the good life; they are humorless and inflexible
prigs, and have way too much time on their hands

Well, I wouldn't go so far as to call my organized friends prigs, and I'm not prepared to "embrace my disorder". But I'd gladly settle for a higher salary and accept the "more creative" moniker. Actually, I prefer order, but I'm sure I'd do a better job of keeping order at home if I didn't stress over it so much.

Books

This is a picture from the Thomas Jefferson building of the Library of Congress. It has the Latin quote, "Liber delectatio animae", which means, "books, the delight of the soul".

Liber Delectatio Animae

Don't you hate it when people write Latin quotes without translating them? I could write a whole post on that subject but it's not what I'm writing today. In fact I think I'll leave the whole translation for another post because I have more to say about it.
I've attempted to write a list of the books I read in 2006. I don't know if I've got them all but all the ones that I noted in my journal or that I remember are here. They're in no particular order except sort of chronological, except I started with the ones I read recently and then I went back to my journal from the beginning of the year and started from the beginning. Anyway, it's an interesting (to me anyway) mix of biographies, classics, some science, children's books and lots of books about books. I count about eighty. I tried to only put books that I actually finished but quite a few are books that I've read before and reread this year. I'm working on another list of books I started and didn't finish.

Books read in 2006:
Jane Austen, A Life by Claire Tomalin
Emily Bronte by Winifred Gerin
Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte
The Genizah at the House of Shepher by Tamar Yellin
The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield
The Poe Shadow by Matthew Pearl
Rebecca by Daphne DuMarier
Mansfield Park by Jane Austen
How Proust Can Change Your Life by Alain De Botton
The Outside World by Tova Mirvis
Isaac Newton by James Gleick
Such a Strange Lady (bio of Dorothy Sayers) by Janet Hitchman
Mark Twain Mysteries by Edith Skom
Parnassus on Wheels by Christopher Morley
Old Books Rare Friends by Leona Rostenberg and Stein
Bibliomania, A Tale by Gustave Flaubert
As Nature Made Him by John Colapinto
The Crucible by Arthur Miller
Greco-Persian Wars by Peter Green
The Professor by Charlotte Bronte
Amo, Amas, Amat and all That by Eugene Ehrlich
Life of Charlotte Bronte by Elizabeth Gaskell
Mathematics, Is God Silent? James Nickel
The Lighthouse by P.D. James
Physics and Philosophy by Werner Heisenbert
QED The Strange Theory of Light and Matter by Richard Feynman
The Pianist by Wladyslaw Szpilman
National Velvet by Enid Bagnold
Where Books Fall Open by Bascove
The Reading Group by Elizabeth Noble
Rereadings by Anne Fadiman
Ex Libris by Anne Fadiman
The Gift of Friendship, C.S. Lewis and J.R. Tolkein by Colin Durziel
On Literature by Umberto Eco
Negotiating with the Dead –A Writer on Writing by Margaret Atwood
Mimesis by Auerbach
The Wind in the Door by Madeleine L’Engle
Reading in Bed by Steven Gilbar
The Luck of Nineveh by Arnold C. Brackman
The Right to Heresy, Castillio against Calvin by Stefan Zweig
Can a Smart Person Believe in God? By Michael Gullen
So Many Books, So Little Time, A Year of Passionate Reading by Sara Nelson
Eats, Shoots and Leaves by Lynne Truss
A Man of My Words by Lederer
Who Killed Homer?
The Friendly Jane Austen
A Passion for Books Harold Rabinowitz and Rob Kaplan
Ungodly; the Passions Torments and Murder of Atheist Madalyn MurrayO'Hair by Ted Dracos
T.S. Eliott Selected Essays
Emma by Jane Austen
The Story of English by McCrum, Cram and MacNeil
Borges, A Reader
Labyrinths by Jorge Borges
The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco
Foucalt’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco
Raising a Reader by Jennie Nash
Sleuthing in the Stacks by Rudolph Altrochi
The Scholar Adventurers Richard Altick
A Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeleine L’Engle
Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen
Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
The Club Dumas by Arturo Perez-Reverte
I am Charlotte Simmons by Tom Wolfe
Bookman’s Promise by John Dunning
Booked to Die by John Dunning
Sign of the Book by John Dunning
The Dante Club by Matthew Pearl
Death’s Autograph by Marianne McDonald
The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon
Out of the Flames by Lawrence and Nancy Goldstone
The Friar and the Cipher by Lawrence and Nancy Goldstone
Warmly Inscribed by Lawrence and Nancy Goldstone
The Jane Austen Book Club by Karen Joy Fowler
Accomodating Brocolli in the Cemetary: Or Why Can't Anybody Spell by Vivian Cook
God’s Equation by Amir Aczel
The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger
The Book Thief by Mark Zusak
Taking the Quantum Leap by Fred Wolf

So long to the classics..

Libraries are dumping the classics to make room for DVDs and Harry Potter. No wonder I can't find the books I want at my local library. You can read about it in the WashingtonPost.

Christmas Cards

Did you get a Christmas card from us this year? No. Well, you're not the only one. That's one of the things that didn't get done before Christmas came this year. I still have plans to send out New Year greeting cards but it's getting later every day. Chuck's mom graciously took several for us when we visited her in Sacramento. I had it all set up online from Sacaramento but it wouldn't be ready until January 11. Then Eric saw the picture and hated it. So we retook more pictures and I reordered the cards. This time I was able to put a rush on it but unable to preview the card online. I went ahead and ordered them but I was a little concerned about not being able to preview the card online. Rightfully so, because when we picked up the cards yesterday the top of Chuck and Eric's heads were cut off. That's what happens to tall people, I suppose. We may just send them out anyway. So if you get a late card from us with a bit of the tall people in our family's heads missing, you'll know that it's the thought that counts, right?

A Trip to Great Britain

My friend Donna, the socalmom is travelling in Great Britain. Anyone who uses the word "peckish" in their blog should be read.

Actually, I think peckish is a great word. When I read it in her blog, I had to look it up because I thought it meant something like irritable or easily annoyed. It turns out that it does mean this but also the British meaning is "somewhat hungry". This is how she uses it in her blog. Of course you have to use the British meaning when you're travelling in Britain.