I visited St. Matthew's Church in Livonia for Mass yesterday, and it left an impression in several ways:
1) It felt happy. I mentioned that to the member who was sitting next to me, and he smiled and said "It is."
2) The whole place is bright and light. Mind you, part of what I love about St. Stephen's in Geneva is that it's dark and conducive to contemplation, but I liked bright and light, too.
3) Kids swarmed from the pews when it was time to leave for the children's liturgy.
4) The wall behind the altar table was massive stone, with a suspended statue of Jesus in front of it -- and, best of all, on either side were windows onto the countryside. Even from the way back seats, I could see it. What a gift.
Last week, we (Roman Catholics across the country) switched to new language for some of the things we've said for decades, and this parish has laminated cards from Our Sunday Visitor tucked into the hymnal/liturgy book. This was great!
If I'd remembered to look at it as often as I needed it, I would have been all set.
A DAY AT THE BUFFALO ZOO, by TJ SCHUHLE
Monday, December 5, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
Momentum
I don't know about you, but I've followed links to too many blogs that haven't been updated in months and been a little frustrated. Now, that's mine is among them ... I'm even more frustrated.
So, what's the occasion? Please don't assume it's a New Year's resolution. I don't do those; I have no trouble breaking promises to myself without another reason to feel guilty about it.
No, this is for all you readers out there. I happened across a link to ebook challenges -- and since I joined the ranks of Kindle owners this holiday season, I checked it out (you can find it below). Basically, the one that appealed to me was the challenge to read at least 12 of the FREE books you download this year.
I've only owned my gadget since Dec. 25, but I sense the need for that kick in the behind already. I downloaded 3 or 4 Jane Austen novels after things settled down here, and I started Northanger Abbey last night.
But, I know that if I let myself wander through Amazon's freebies, I'll soon be awash in books I may never get to. So, this challenge from the unreadreader.com leaves me hoping that doesn't happen. We'll see.
If you're interested, go to http://www.theunreadreader.com/2010/12/2011-show-me-free-challenge.html
(And, as the writer points out, you don't have to have an e-reader to do this; many can be downloaded right to your computer.)
So, what's the occasion? Please don't assume it's a New Year's resolution. I don't do those; I have no trouble breaking promises to myself without another reason to feel guilty about it.
No, this is for all you readers out there. I happened across a link to ebook challenges -- and since I joined the ranks of Kindle owners this holiday season, I checked it out (you can find it below). Basically, the one that appealed to me was the challenge to read at least 12 of the FREE books you download this year.
I've only owned my gadget since Dec. 25, but I sense the need for that kick in the behind already. I downloaded 3 or 4 Jane Austen novels after things settled down here, and I started Northanger Abbey last night.
But, I know that if I let myself wander through Amazon's freebies, I'll soon be awash in books I may never get to. So, this challenge from the unreadreader.com leaves me hoping that doesn't happen. We'll see.
If you're interested, go to http://www.theunreadreader.com/2010/12/2011-show-me-free-challenge.html
(And, as the writer points out, you don't have to have an e-reader to do this; many can be downloaded right to your computer.)
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
What took so long?
Word to the wise: Get to know your technology.
It can save you a few bucks and maybe even months of procrastination.
Last summer, I set out to make my daughter and son-in-law a 1st anniversary gift — a collection of recipes they'd enjoyed at our house.
Problem was I didn't want to retype them all. And I didn't want to just photocopy and staple them together.
So .... since the first year's traditional gift is something paper, that's what they got: An IOU.
Before long I ordered "Readiris 12," software that would enable me to magically scan the recipes and they'd turn into editable files.
Cool.
But first, I'd have to read all the how-tos for my scanner and for the Readiris.
I still haven't.
Luckily (if you call feeling stupid lucky) I didn't have to.
The scanner is pretty intuitive for the basic picture scanning I've wanted to do over the last few months. So, there's been very little reading involved.
Then, a couple of weeks ago, I was searching my desktop for something and came across a familiar word -- Readiris.
I looked to my left to make sure the software I'd bought was still snug and unopened on the shelf. It was. All I could conclude was that it came with the MacMini 3 or 4 years ago.
Geesh.
Yesterday, I finally decided to get started. I turned on the scanner, hit its little icon, and all this fabulous stuff came up on the desktop, including a thin strip of tasks it would do.
What's this?
OCR?
Great.
Optical character somethingorother.
Even the scanner had come with the ability to turn articles, recipes, you name it, into text I can play with.
If I'd only known ....
It can save you a few bucks and maybe even months of procrastination.
Last summer, I set out to make my daughter and son-in-law a 1st anniversary gift — a collection of recipes they'd enjoyed at our house.
Problem was I didn't want to retype them all. And I didn't want to just photocopy and staple them together.
So .... since the first year's traditional gift is something paper, that's what they got: An IOU.
Before long I ordered "Readiris 12," software that would enable me to magically scan the recipes and they'd turn into editable files.
Cool.
But first, I'd have to read all the how-tos for my scanner and for the Readiris.
I still haven't.
Luckily (if you call feeling stupid lucky) I didn't have to.
The scanner is pretty intuitive for the basic picture scanning I've wanted to do over the last few months. So, there's been very little reading involved.
Then, a couple of weeks ago, I was searching my desktop for something and came across a familiar word -- Readiris.
I looked to my left to make sure the software I'd bought was still snug and unopened on the shelf. It was. All I could conclude was that it came with the MacMini 3 or 4 years ago.
Geesh.
Yesterday, I finally decided to get started. I turned on the scanner, hit its little icon, and all this fabulous stuff came up on the desktop, including a thin strip of tasks it would do.
What's this?
OCR?
Great.
Optical character somethingorother.
Even the scanner had come with the ability to turn articles, recipes, you name it, into text I can play with.
If I'd only known ....
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Back to those CDs
Unlike my driving routes, audiobooks have remained a constant as my drive to work continues. I just looked back to see where I left off the last time and noticed an addition and a correction are necessary.
The oops: I referred to the Holocaust-related book I'd picked up as "The Elephant Keeper." Those of you who noticed were too polite to point out that it was really "The Zookeeper's Wife." (And, yes, there are many references to the Holocaust, but more importantly, it's about the Warsaw Rebellion and the Polish Resistance. The early chapters reminded me of the beginning of "The Life of Pi," because they're set in the zoo and full of neat information about animals. It was extremely interesting and educational, but at the same time such a personal story that, had it really been a book, it would have been hard to put down.)
The addition: Worse than the Obama portrayal by the guy who read David Plouffe's book was what he did to the women. Michelle Obama and Hillary Clinton both sounded like Jessica Rabbit, and Plouffe's wife was breathily reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe.
On to the newer books: I don't want to tell you just how overdue the CDs have been when I've returned them to the library. Why I continue to take 2 out at a time is a mystery. Let's just say my fines are helping the library through a difficult funding period.
The 2 new ones, due Thursday, are "Thanksgiving" by Janet Evanovich and "The Lacuna" by Barbara Kingsolver. I've always liked Kingsolver's stuff but would have picked this anyway because of its connection to World War II. Might as well stick with the theme, I figured.
I started with that one and found the story engaging, the dialogue often amusing, and best of all, Kingsolver's gifts so fully present that occasionally I wondered if she was the first to put those two or three words together in that particular way.
But, still, there came a moment — on the way to visit my mother last Monday — that I wanted something lighter; so I switched to "Thanksgiving." It was a funny romance that reminded me of books I read a million years ago. When it ended, I wanted to know what happened next.
Now I'm on CD 9 of 15 (I think) of "The Lacuna," and even though it's fiction, the setting she creates for her made-up characters, is based in fact. So, Lev Trotsky and painters Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera come to life in it. The words of Kahlo and the main character's mother (who dies in a crash on the way to a Howard Hughes event) are laugh-out-loud funny at times.
With six CDs left and four days before I work again, it's shaping up to be a hefty "donation" to the library by the time I've finished listening — and procrastinated a day or two about returning these books.
The oops: I referred to the Holocaust-related book I'd picked up as "The Elephant Keeper." Those of you who noticed were too polite to point out that it was really "The Zookeeper's Wife." (And, yes, there are many references to the Holocaust, but more importantly, it's about the Warsaw Rebellion and the Polish Resistance. The early chapters reminded me of the beginning of "The Life of Pi," because they're set in the zoo and full of neat information about animals. It was extremely interesting and educational, but at the same time such a personal story that, had it really been a book, it would have been hard to put down.)
The addition: Worse than the Obama portrayal by the guy who read David Plouffe's book was what he did to the women. Michelle Obama and Hillary Clinton both sounded like Jessica Rabbit, and Plouffe's wife was breathily reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe.
On to the newer books: I don't want to tell you just how overdue the CDs have been when I've returned them to the library. Why I continue to take 2 out at a time is a mystery. Let's just say my fines are helping the library through a difficult funding period.
The 2 new ones, due Thursday, are "Thanksgiving" by Janet Evanovich and "The Lacuna" by Barbara Kingsolver. I've always liked Kingsolver's stuff but would have picked this anyway because of its connection to World War II. Might as well stick with the theme, I figured.
I started with that one and found the story engaging, the dialogue often amusing, and best of all, Kingsolver's gifts so fully present that occasionally I wondered if she was the first to put those two or three words together in that particular way.
But, still, there came a moment — on the way to visit my mother last Monday — that I wanted something lighter; so I switched to "Thanksgiving." It was a funny romance that reminded me of books I read a million years ago. When it ended, I wanted to know what happened next.
Now I'm on CD 9 of 15 (I think) of "The Lacuna," and even though it's fiction, the setting she creates for her made-up characters, is based in fact. So, Lev Trotsky and painters Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera come to life in it. The words of Kahlo and the main character's mother (who dies in a crash on the way to a Howard Hughes event) are laugh-out-loud funny at times.
With six CDs left and four days before I work again, it's shaping up to be a hefty "donation" to the library by the time I've finished listening — and procrastinated a day or two about returning these books.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Wow, and another month slips by ...
It's been a busy one, too. But enough about that ...
The challenge this week has been keeping up with the fly population. What began as:
"Pursuit of the Cluster Flies, Summer 2010," has segued into the more frustrating "Average Annoying Flies Saga of 2010."
I think, but can't swear to it, that attics in pre-1900 houses are a pre-requisite for admission to the wonderful world of cluster flies. So I'll explain, in case you have something more modern: Cluster flies are the logiest, laziest phylum of flies on the planet. They may even be stupid. They travel in groups and are most comfortable on windows and sills. They inhabit clean homes as readily as dirty ones, or I wouldn't be admitting to this.
I woke up to an infestation in the kitchen one morning and prepared to do battle. I don't want to say I was disappointed, but the job took all of 5 minutes -- as I dispatched the families on 3 kitchen windows, 1 lavatory window, 1 kitchen window and 4 living room windows. Like I said, lazy and logie. A perfect match for me somedays.
That incursion left me with a dozen or so Average Annoying Flies, which I am slapping into eternity as quickly as possible. But, there are moments when they're flying around that I swear they procreate mid-air. Logic dictates that if you have a dozen and slap a dozen you're left with zero, zip, nada.
I should be so lucky.
As we all know, there's something to be learned from each of life's challenges. In this case, I've learned:
1.) Fly guts are the best remedy for procrastination when it comes to window washing.
2.) Large numbers of small pests can bring out the warrior in the most pacifico people.
3.) It's important to b e thankful for what you've got: Fruit fly season is worse.
Also, in case you're interested, I've learned that a well-loved frog can live for 8 years -- or maybe longer.
What's the connection?
Froggie — The pet of a local senior citizen I know.
She told me about Froggie a couple of years ago, detailing that he was a free-range pet (roams the house like a cat, minus the fur and fleas), who she fed flies from the tip of her index finger, wiggling it around so that Froggie wouldn't suspect it was a corpse.
After that, I decided to jar and freeze my cluster flies so Froggie would have something available for those cold, wintry, flyless days.
When the latest infestation began dotting my windows, I thought about Froggie but didn't really feel like harvesting them that carefully.
Until yesterday.
That's when I put a dozen or more freshly slapped flies in a Ziploc snack bag, packed it in ice, and took them to Rotary to ask whether her husband would delivery them for me.
Alas, Froggie is no more.
He said it was a "considerable loss," and I sent my condolences to his wife.
Where do I turn in the face of such tragedy?
Craigslist, perhaps?
"Free: Freshly fricasseed flies looking for frog in need of refreshment."
The challenge this week has been keeping up with the fly population. What began as:
"Pursuit of the Cluster Flies, Summer 2010," has segued into the more frustrating "Average Annoying Flies Saga of 2010."
I think, but can't swear to it, that attics in pre-1900 houses are a pre-requisite for admission to the wonderful world of cluster flies. So I'll explain, in case you have something more modern: Cluster flies are the logiest, laziest phylum of flies on the planet. They may even be stupid. They travel in groups and are most comfortable on windows and sills. They inhabit clean homes as readily as dirty ones, or I wouldn't be admitting to this.
I woke up to an infestation in the kitchen one morning and prepared to do battle. I don't want to say I was disappointed, but the job took all of 5 minutes -- as I dispatched the families on 3 kitchen windows, 1 lavatory window, 1 kitchen window and 4 living room windows. Like I said, lazy and logie. A perfect match for me somedays.
That incursion left me with a dozen or so Average Annoying Flies, which I am slapping into eternity as quickly as possible. But, there are moments when they're flying around that I swear they procreate mid-air. Logic dictates that if you have a dozen and slap a dozen you're left with zero, zip, nada.
I should be so lucky.
As we all know, there's something to be learned from each of life's challenges. In this case, I've learned:
1.) Fly guts are the best remedy for procrastination when it comes to window washing.
2.) Large numbers of small pests can bring out the warrior in the most pacifico people.
3.) It's important to b e thankful for what you've got: Fruit fly season is worse.
Also, in case you're interested, I've learned that a well-loved frog can live for 8 years -- or maybe longer.
What's the connection?
Froggie — The pet of a local senior citizen I know.
She told me about Froggie a couple of years ago, detailing that he was a free-range pet (roams the house like a cat, minus the fur and fleas), who she fed flies from the tip of her index finger, wiggling it around so that Froggie wouldn't suspect it was a corpse.
After that, I decided to jar and freeze my cluster flies so Froggie would have something available for those cold, wintry, flyless days.
When the latest infestation began dotting my windows, I thought about Froggie but didn't really feel like harvesting them that carefully.
Until yesterday.
That's when I put a dozen or more freshly slapped flies in a Ziploc snack bag, packed it in ice, and took them to Rotary to ask whether her husband would delivery them for me.
Alas, Froggie is no more.
He said it was a "considerable loss," and I sent my condolences to his wife.
Where do I turn in the face of such tragedy?
Craigslist, perhaps?
"Free: Freshly fricasseed flies looking for frog in need of refreshment."
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
That drive ...
Shortly after last week's entry, my new route home was derailed by Taste of Syracuse, a huge annual event right outside our building. Which means some exit routes are blocked. Interestingly, Saturday night was the first time my choice of detours took me far out of my way. I ended up seeing some of the city's nicer neighborhoods. As much as you can at midnight. It made the trip half an hour longer. On a dwindling tank of gas. Yet another adventure survived.
My brother commented that I need to do what he does as he traipses across Kentucky — listen to audiobooks. I'm there, but not with the technology he suggested. So far I've listened to CDs of Obama's "Dreams from My Father," "To Kill A Mockingbird," and "The Speeches of Barack Obama."
Last week, I started "Audacity to Win," by Obama's campaign manager David Plouffe. It's very interesting -- and the only one of the books, so far, that I hadn't read or witnessed some or all of already.
But, I find myself laughing whenever the reader (not Plouffe) changes to his "Obama voice" for dialogue. Sounds more like Barack Stallone.
Next up is The Elephant Keeper. Oddly enough, I didn't think I could bear to listen to the Elie Wiesel book that was shelved next to it. But, this is a Holocaust book, too.
Something tells me that if it's stress-relief I'm looking for, I ought to find something in the Jon Stewart or Stephen Colbert neighborhood next time I'm at the library.
My brother commented that I need to do what he does as he traipses across Kentucky — listen to audiobooks. I'm there, but not with the technology he suggested. So far I've listened to CDs of Obama's "Dreams from My Father," "To Kill A Mockingbird," and "The Speeches of Barack Obama."
Last week, I started "Audacity to Win," by Obama's campaign manager David Plouffe. It's very interesting -- and the only one of the books, so far, that I hadn't read or witnessed some or all of already.
But, I find myself laughing whenever the reader (not Plouffe) changes to his "Obama voice" for dialogue. Sounds more like Barack Stallone.
Next up is The Elephant Keeper. Oddly enough, I didn't think I could bear to listen to the Elie Wiesel book that was shelved next to it. But, this is a Holocaust book, too.
Something tells me that if it's stress-relief I'm looking for, I ought to find something in the Jon Stewart or Stephen Colbert neighborhood next time I'm at the library.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
TIme flies
I feel like someone who leads you down a potholed path right into a brick wall.
Sorry for the infrequency of this blog lately, and I wish I could promise it'll get better, but I guess this is what happens when real work comes along. Real, as in paid.
Since April 22, I've been working a few nights a week on the copy desk at a mid-size daily newspaper an hour from here. So far, I seem to have substituted work stress for driving stress. Almost every week I find, try or am given a new route home. Last week's was the best and may be a keeper. I knew it had potential when Co-worker Laura tried to look out the window and point out the first of two turns. (Tried, because it's hard to see at midnight.)
I've also been ... let's see ...
* editing copy for health magazines produced in the Midwest
* designing two brochures for my church
* finishing up minutes for three organizations I volunteer with
* editing and fact-checking 200 trivia questions a week
* looking for more work
* feeling guilty because I don't get more done
* looking into why an eBay seller prefers not to do business with me (Would you believe there are a bunch of top sellers who banded together to refuse to sell to anyone who leaves negative feedback to any of them? So much for accountability.)
Yada and yada and yada.
More to come.
Promise.
Sort of.
Sorry for the infrequency of this blog lately, and I wish I could promise it'll get better, but I guess this is what happens when real work comes along. Real, as in paid.
Since April 22, I've been working a few nights a week on the copy desk at a mid-size daily newspaper an hour from here. So far, I seem to have substituted work stress for driving stress. Almost every week I find, try or am given a new route home. Last week's was the best and may be a keeper. I knew it had potential when Co-worker Laura tried to look out the window and point out the first of two turns. (Tried, because it's hard to see at midnight.)
I've also been ... let's see ...
* editing copy for health magazines produced in the Midwest
* designing two brochures for my church
* finishing up minutes for three organizations I volunteer with
* editing and fact-checking 200 trivia questions a week
* looking for more work
* feeling guilty because I don't get more done
* looking into why an eBay seller prefers not to do business with me (Would you believe there are a bunch of top sellers who banded together to refuse to sell to anyone who leaves negative feedback to any of them? So much for accountability.)
Yada and yada and yada.
More to come.
Promise.
Sort of.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Four choices ... and the winner is ...
I was just scrolling through past posts and saw the March 13 one where I was trying to decide which book to finish first of the four I'd started.
Turns out the answer was not on the list.
I'm almost finished with two other books instead, which is probably a sign of some kind of ADHD, but ...
One is "Year of Magical Thinking" by Joan Didion. It had been on my "hope I find it" list for used book sales since it came out a few years ago, but for the life of me I can't remember why. It's an easy read and fairly short but I don't know what would have drawn me to a memoir about the first year of widowhood. Although, I think I was similarly drawn to John Irving's "A Widow for One Year" but CHOSE not to finish it. Didion's I'm almost done with.
The other book is "What's So Amazing About Grace," by Philip Yancey. It's about forgiveness and God's grace and packs in a lot of historical and cultural references. It's a great read. How great? Well, I broke my (almost) inviolate rule and wrote in it (underlining and ***'ing passages).
Worse yet, when I didn't have pen at hand, I started dog-earring it.
But, it'll be worth it.
Turns out the answer was not on the list.
I'm almost finished with two other books instead, which is probably a sign of some kind of ADHD, but ...
One is "Year of Magical Thinking" by Joan Didion. It had been on my "hope I find it" list for used book sales since it came out a few years ago, but for the life of me I can't remember why. It's an easy read and fairly short but I don't know what would have drawn me to a memoir about the first year of widowhood. Although, I think I was similarly drawn to John Irving's "A Widow for One Year" but CHOSE not to finish it. Didion's I'm almost done with.
The other book is "What's So Amazing About Grace," by Philip Yancey. It's about forgiveness and God's grace and packs in a lot of historical and cultural references. It's a great read. How great? Well, I broke my (almost) inviolate rule and wrote in it (underlining and ***'ing passages).
Worse yet, when I didn't have pen at hand, I started dog-earring it.
But, it'll be worth it.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Where has the time gone?
Well, I see it's been a couple of weeks since I last posted. Most likely because the first of two part-time jobs has come through (PT copy editor at the Syracuse newspaper) and the other is due in June. That's added some urgency to getting other things done (or at least writing them on a to-do list).
Despite that, I've added another blog to this site. I invite you to check out CommasEtc., which you can link to from this one (see the sidebars to the right). For the most part it'll just be a collection of errors too funny to keep to myself. Feel free to add your own by clicking the comment button.
The first thing you may notice is that the name Commas, etc. isn't quite as confounding as galimafree. "Comma"is a nod to Don Hadley, who gave me my first newspaper job a million years ago. I often edited his columns and editorials, and as a Strunk & White devotee, I was always adding commas in the appropriate places. He'd bristle but go along with it. One of the last times I saw him, I gave him a book I'd found at the library sale: "Commas Are Your Friend."
"Etc."? Well, I think it's just me not wanting to commit to one topic or task, as evidenced by my business name, as well: GrantsEtc. That, by the way, has worked well. I do far more Etc. work than grant work. I won't be totally surprised if Etc. shows up on my tombstone one day. Can't you just see it: Dead, etc.? The thoughts that conjures ...
By the way, until I get it fixed, the first thing you may notice is that the site seems to be set up for the visually impaired. I can't find the spot that lets me change font size. Even more troubling is that as I typed today's post and started this one, it appeared as 5-pt. type, which explains any typos you find. I can't fix what I can't see.
But, I did solve that part of the problem, which was as easy at holding down command +.
Maybe the reverse (command, minus sign) will work on the other.
It's worth a try.
Despite that, I've added another blog to this site. I invite you to check out CommasEtc., which you can link to from this one (see the sidebars to the right). For the most part it'll just be a collection of errors too funny to keep to myself. Feel free to add your own by clicking the comment button.
The first thing you may notice is that the name Commas, etc. isn't quite as confounding as galimafree. "Comma"is a nod to Don Hadley, who gave me my first newspaper job a million years ago. I often edited his columns and editorials, and as a Strunk & White devotee, I was always adding commas in the appropriate places. He'd bristle but go along with it. One of the last times I saw him, I gave him a book I'd found at the library sale: "Commas Are Your Friend."
"Etc."? Well, I think it's just me not wanting to commit to one topic or task, as evidenced by my business name, as well: GrantsEtc. That, by the way, has worked well. I do far more Etc. work than grant work. I won't be totally surprised if Etc. shows up on my tombstone one day. Can't you just see it: Dead, etc.? The thoughts that conjures ...
By the way, until I get it fixed, the first thing you may notice is that the site seems to be set up for the visually impaired. I can't find the spot that lets me change font size. Even more troubling is that as I typed today's post and started this one, it appeared as 5-pt. type, which explains any typos you find. I can't fix what I can't see.
But, I did solve that part of the problem, which was as easy at holding down command +.
Maybe the reverse (command, minus sign) will work on the other.
It's worth a try.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Required readin?
It's always kind of bugged me that in high school English -- those years when the classics were supposed to be introduced, dissected, and shoved down our throats if necessary -- my class was reading Lance Rentzel's "When All the Laughter Died in Sorrow."
What gives? Maybe the new teacher, fresh out of college, was trying to show he was cool and that even though it was a Catholic school, he didn't care there was a scene focused on menstrual fluid. After all, he was young. Maybe he was tired of the classics and couldn't stand the thought teaching one. Like the woman with the Carolyn Keene pseudonym who acknowledged not too long ago that she was so sick of Nancy Drew she could vomit.
Maybe he was trying to give the guys a reason to pick up a book, so he assigned the football player's autobiography so they wouldn't want to chuck it at him. It's been a lot of years, so I can't say for sure but I think there was only one woman in the book -- Rentzel's wife, Joey Heatherton of mattress commercial fame.
Ah, the craft of it all.
Sparking this morning's screed is a Reader's Digest piece on writer Rick Bragg, who I doubt ever read about Lance's laughter and sorrow. But I could be wrong about that. What I do know is that his assigned reading in high school was "To Kill A Mockingbird," and he said it changed his life. The best I can tell you is Lance's book didn't change mine.
Thanks to my kids' high school assignments we have a copy or two of Harper Lee's only published book, so I can catch up anytime I want to. Hearing Bragg reminisce about it, quote from it, and share what it meant to him has inspired me to at least add it to my list (you know the one) of books to read.
There were a couple of side comments from Bragg that struck home, in a coincidental sort of way. One was that he's pretty sure that the character Dill is someone he would have beat up for his lunch money, given the chance. Yet, growing up in Alabama, he said he already knew as he red the book that was happening to Tom Robinson, the black man accused of rape, was wrong. That was an interesting juxtaposition of right and wrong in the one person's mind. I'd just seen the same -- but opposite -- contrast in the book I'm about done with, Philip Yancey's "What's So Amazing About Grace?" Yancey has written many well-crafted and well-researched books on various aspects of theology. Like Bragg, he grew up in the South, but he grew up hating black people and admiring the KKK. I wonder what it was that changed him, if "Mockingbird" changed Bragg.
The other thing was that when Bragg describes being handed a copy of the book to read as a teenager, he says it was old and suffering the ravages of whatever bugs had made a home in it. It didn't seem to bother him. I wish I could say the same for the copy my son was handed, with dried food sticking some pages together. At the time I could afford it, so I bought new ones for the class from some discount Web site. OK, it's an idiosyncrasy, but I like clean books and I knew it couldn't be a priority for a Catholic elementary school trying to keep tuition down.
Somewhere, though, I hope someone who shares my low threshold for "ick" is reading Lance Rentzel's book and saying "Who?" "Why?????" and "Yuck!" to whatever she finds between its pages.
What gives? Maybe the new teacher, fresh out of college, was trying to show he was cool and that even though it was a Catholic school, he didn't care there was a scene focused on menstrual fluid. After all, he was young. Maybe he was tired of the classics and couldn't stand the thought teaching one. Like the woman with the Carolyn Keene pseudonym who acknowledged not too long ago that she was so sick of Nancy Drew she could vomit.
Maybe he was trying to give the guys a reason to pick up a book, so he assigned the football player's autobiography so they wouldn't want to chuck it at him. It's been a lot of years, so I can't say for sure but I think there was only one woman in the book -- Rentzel's wife, Joey Heatherton of mattress commercial fame.
Ah, the craft of it all.
Sparking this morning's screed is a Reader's Digest piece on writer Rick Bragg, who I doubt ever read about Lance's laughter and sorrow. But I could be wrong about that. What I do know is that his assigned reading in high school was "To Kill A Mockingbird," and he said it changed his life. The best I can tell you is Lance's book didn't change mine.
Thanks to my kids' high school assignments we have a copy or two of Harper Lee's only published book, so I can catch up anytime I want to. Hearing Bragg reminisce about it, quote from it, and share what it meant to him has inspired me to at least add it to my list (you know the one) of books to read.
There were a couple of side comments from Bragg that struck home, in a coincidental sort of way. One was that he's pretty sure that the character Dill is someone he would have beat up for his lunch money, given the chance. Yet, growing up in Alabama, he said he already knew as he red the book that was happening to Tom Robinson, the black man accused of rape, was wrong. That was an interesting juxtaposition of right and wrong in the one person's mind. I'd just seen the same -- but opposite -- contrast in the book I'm about done with, Philip Yancey's "What's So Amazing About Grace?" Yancey has written many well-crafted and well-researched books on various aspects of theology. Like Bragg, he grew up in the South, but he grew up hating black people and admiring the KKK. I wonder what it was that changed him, if "Mockingbird" changed Bragg.
The other thing was that when Bragg describes being handed a copy of the book to read as a teenager, he says it was old and suffering the ravages of whatever bugs had made a home in it. It didn't seem to bother him. I wish I could say the same for the copy my son was handed, with dried food sticking some pages together. At the time I could afford it, so I bought new ones for the class from some discount Web site. OK, it's an idiosyncrasy, but I like clean books and I knew it couldn't be a priority for a Catholic elementary school trying to keep tuition down.
Somewhere, though, I hope someone who shares my low threshold for "ick" is reading Lance Rentzel's book and saying "Who?" "Why?????" and "Yuck!" to whatever she finds between its pages.
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