Five On Friday: Where I've Been, What I've Been Doing And Reading, and Always Abraham Lincoln

 

found here

Goodness! June is practically over and I'm just now showing up here. Absolutely ridiculous. Let's jump right in and get caught up.

1. We just returned from a 3.5 day jaunt up to Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario, Canada. It had been over a year since we had last been, and our wine cellar showed it. The drive up was...difficult. I was in some pain and had had no meaningful sleep the night before. I admit that I was worried about taking the trip and how I'd do on a ride that long. Luckily, we always seemed to find a stop just when I needed one to stretch. As usual, we stayed in the same little inn and visited our favourite winery where we bought So. Much. Wine. I fretted about getting it all across the border--I always worry about being pulled over and put in jail or something--but it was fine. Will we try it with 7 cases again? Probably not. 

Our tasting there with my Canadian husband was, as usual, wonderful. We are wine nerds, and he goes into great depth talking about his wines, how he makes them, how they are aged (in oak [French, American, Slovenian], steel, terracotta, even concrete!), and lots of other oenological tidbits. Nothing makes me happier as I sip than to hear terms like sur lees, malolactic fermentation, terroir, and residual sugar. 

We ended up meeting another couple at the inn who were there during our stay once before, and the wife is an avid reader. We talked books, books, and more books at breakfast every morning. What a delight. And a movie is being filmed in downtown NotL--a screen version of the book Beach Read. It was fascinating to see all the cameras and crew members and to note what locations were being used. I was glad, however, to get back home--to my own bed, my own routine, my porch and patio, my herb garden, and my orange cat. Which leads me to...

2.  Piper, the aforementioned orange cat. He is 16 now, and he has started to show it more and more. He crackles when he stretches; he won't get up onto the couch or anything without help; he is yowling at absolutely nothing, even in the middle of the night. He was never this vocal when Marlowe, his sister, was still with us. I'm pretty sure he's lost some of his hearing as well. We do everything we must to keep him comfortable, including this:

Nothing like a backyard nap beside the pond

"Do NOT mow my spot!"

He loves being outdoors, and he especially likes the pond. Sam took care of him while we were in NotL, and Piper was fine. He continues to eat well and demand ice in his water. I was worried he'd be standoffish or accusatory when I got home, but 

That evening

I was forgiven. Clearly, though, he's letting me know that I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.

3. And that's very true. Unfortunately, Jared has to have yet another operation on his foot. Back in February he had lisfranc surgery, but now a ruptured tendon has been discovered, one that has made it impossible for him to move his toes or lift his foot while resting on the heel. Surgery is soon, and we will be needed a great deal for childcare. Fingers crossed that this is The Last One and that his recovery is uneventful and speedy. Caring for Theo is always fun, usually very easy, but often very tiring for me. He is a busy, smart, and verbal toddler, and keeping up with him can be a lot. Do I love it? Yes! He recently has taken to calling me My Friend Nana. And hearing him recite passages from his favourite books is almost alarming. His memory is scary. I try to remember that and do what I can to make sure all his memories with me are good ones.

4. Speaking of Good Ones, I just finished reading Here, There, And Everywhere:  My Life Recording the Music of The Beatles by Geoff Emerick. Yes, I was on a bit of a Beatles nostalgia run there for a time. The writer was The Beatles sound engineer for the bulk of their albums and singles. Not only does he provide a great deal of insight into the band's (and its members') personality, creative process, rise and breakup, he also explains the whole inner workings of making recordings--the sound, the special effects they requested, the process, and how he came to be a sound engineer. I love books like this, ones that teach me something I have no idea about. Even the technical stuff was never dry or boring because he always explained it in the context of making The Beatles music their own. (Julie, I think Ted would enjoy this book very much.) I've since gotten three more books, Whistler by Ann Patchett, Land by Maggie O'Farrell, and the one I'm reading now, The Things We Never Say by Elizabeth Strout. I think I was sort of warned off of the Strout book by a blogfriend because it wasn't very uplifting or fun and it does deal with our current politics (pre-2024 election); however, I'm enjoying its thoughtful and perceptive tone and story. My Favourites Shelf is two deep with some stacked in front now. 

5. I also have a shelf devoted solely to books about President Lincoln/Mary Lincoln/the Civil War. Recently, Jared recommended a Netflix docu-series to me entitled simply Lincoln. It has three episodes and a cadre of elite historians including Doris Kearns Goodwin, author of the excellent Lincoln book Team of Rivals. The actor who plays Pres. Lincoln looks astonishingly like him, and the entire series is superbly acted and presented. Also included are many photos, some of which I hadn't seen before and found extremely moving. (And those of you that have been reading me here forever know how I get about photographs of some people.) Highly recommend.

Okay! I feel like I've caught you up. And on a Lot Of Stuff! But we can always talk some more in Comments.

Real Talk: January 6, 2021

 

I did a lot of back and forthing about writing this post, not because I worried about its content being too inflammatory, but because I already feel so consumed by the shock, outrage, and anger I've felt over the events of January 6. Sometimes, writing about it simply rekindles the flames, and I'm left feeling a renewed sense of indignance with nowhere to put it.

But I almost feel hypocritical not talking about it here, where I express myself about virtually everything, and where The Politics have certainly been a constant topic for me over the fifteen years of this blog's run.

What galls me most is that a pathetically large faction of republicans (and I will never, ever capitalize that word, ever) will not only continue to serve as apologists to the person who outright fomented and encouraged this insurrection, but will also blame it on others and rewrite history in order to do so. They will carry on as before, perpetuating their lies, merely to salvage the support of the reprehensible individuals who overran the Capitol, planting bombs, looking to take hostages, overthrow the government, and, according to at least one source, hold daylong executions. 

Even after the Capitol was retaken, order was restored inside, and the process of affirming and certifying the Electoral College votes was continued, arrogant and tone-deaf republicans still objected, adding fuel to the criminals' fire. They did this, knowing full well that it would not change the outcome. They did this for their own selfish interest, merely to court the votes of the animals who had stampeded into these politicians' sacred grounds of their own bastion of Democracy, hoping to keep their jobs for another term. 

They make me sick.

As do all supporters of this maniac. I have no use for any of them. The so-called christians (they don't get a capital letter anymore, either), evangelicals, and right-to-lifers who called him a godly president and thanked Jesus for him--they have the blood of thousands on their hands, including those who died in the coup attempt on January 6.  They have been fools and idiots, but that does not excuse them. Willful ignorance is no excuse. They got what they asked for. Sadly, we got what they asked for, too.

As I write this, the movement is underway to remove this horrifically dangerous individual by impeachment. Again. His cowardly cabinet slunk away under a flurry of resignations, and his bootlicking vice president is too beholden to that same trashy constituency to invoke the 25th Amendment. Is there any single republican individual who will do the right thing and help save this country? That is asking too much from republicans, who care only for themselves and their jobs. It is a sickness among them, this selfishness, and their supporters are too stupid to see it and too dumb to switch the channel away from Fox and OAN and other poisonous, treasonous outlets that are their opiates.

I have decided that my New Year will begin on January 20th, the exact moment that Joseph R. Biden is sworn in as President of the United States of America. I won't breathe a peaceful breath until that happens. I am not a believer, but I beseech the Universe provide him with safety. I keep thinking of President Lincoln's Inauguration and the snipers on the roof, their long guns at the ready. Like President Lincoln, President Biden is a man born for these times, a man born to unite this country.

I grieve the ideals of President Lincoln's party. How far they have fallen. 

November Challenge Post #26: A Note To Someone

The challenge topic for today is to write a note to someone. It's also Thanksgiving Day. Let's see if I can make this work.

Dear Dept. of Nance Readers,

Happy Thanksgiving Day. I do hope you are able to celebrate this day in a pleasant and thoughtful way. For those of you who are cooking, it is my most fervent wish that you asked for and received help. I do know that sometimes it's easier to do it yourself than to take the time to explain what you need to be done or how to do it, but no one likes a martyr. 

For those of you, like me, who are missing a larger family at your table, thank you for doing your part and for making a sacrifice. If you are missing family members because of a loss, you have my profound sympathies. 

President Abraham Lincoln instituted the first American Thanksgiving holiday by proclamation on October 3rd, 1863. The proclamation, while signed by Lincoln, was written entirely by his Secretary of State, William Seward. In it, Americans are urged to express gratitude that despite the civil war fought upon the battlefields, "peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere." He goes on to say that when observing the holiday, citizens should pray that God provide for those left widowed, orphaned, or suffering due to the "civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged" and further request Divine assistance to "heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union." 

You can find the Proclamation here. Were it written by Lincoln, it would be less flowery and more clear, but it has some salient points for us even now. As you know, I'm not a believer. I do, however, find it oddly ironic that here in 2020, we may still call upon the Universe? Each Other? our new President? to heal the wounds of the nation and restore it soon to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility, and union.

Happy Thanksgiving, dearest Readers and Friends. I am Thankful for quite a bit this year, and your presence here is among my blessings.

Nance

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TGIF Nance Style

The Acronym TGIF has long ago ceased to have weighty import for me--Retired, you know. Each day flows seamlessly into the next and I often lose track along the way as to Which Day It Actually Is. Of course, Rick is home on Saturdays and Sundays, so that's Nice, but aside from weekending at the lake during the season, Fridays hold no special cachet for me.

That's why I liked the idea I got from Bridget (who got it from someone else, actually) to use the letters TGIF in a totally different way. So, without further ado, my spin on TGIF:

T is for Temperature: It's suddenly and decisively Autumn here in Ohio, jump-started in August when we had a string of days in the 60s and nights in the 50s. Now in September proper, we are lucky to see upper 60s, and our nights have gotten as low as the upper 40s. I would largely be okay with this if: 1. I were normal and not always freezing to death; 2. I had any idea of what to wear. Right now, my fingers and feet are like ice and my nose feels like a big old Labrador's. I had to put the furnace on so that I wouldn't be suffering and miserable in my own home. And, is it permissible now to wear sweaters and leggings and boots SO THAT I DO NOT FREEZE TO DEATH? And yes, I am painfully aware that some of you are still wearing shorts and sandals. HOW DO YOU DO IT?

G is for Grocery Store: This week at my grocery store, I was stunned when I observed a young woman suddenly lift her shoulder bag, unzip it part way, and start speaking into it. "Hey," she said. "Stop all that. Just relax. Relax. You hear me?" It was then that I saw a small dog head peek out--only for a moment--and then disappear. I moved past her, but she made eye contact with me briefly and with no expression. There was no emblem on the bag to indicate that this was a service or comfort animal. What would you have done? Same thing I did, I'm sure. I zipped on past and kept on shopping. Sigh.

I is for Insult: In order to try and get back to Reading the way I used to, I have been Re-Reading, mostly history and mainly books about President Lincoln. The more I read, the more I see the current administration as a grave and profound insult to not only the Office Of The President Of The United States, but to this country and its history, especially with regard to the Civil War. It goes without saying how shamefully ignorant 45* is of American History in general and the history of the Presidency specifically. His willful disregard of basic facts and respect for the country's journey, evolution, and struggle, let alone the people who made it possible, is pathetic. Usually, I feel pity for someone so needy and ignorant; in this case, however, I find myself unable to muster it.

F is for F*#k: Oh, what a terrible Disappointment it is to admit that The Eff Word has barged its Big Old Self back into my Everyday Vocabulary. I thought I had eradicated it, for the most part, but IT'S BAAAAAACK! I do try Very Hard to curb its appearances in Pleasant Company, but sadly for Rick, he hears it quite a lot these days. Most probably, it is a Stress Reliever Mechanism and an Anger Management Strategy. As my Dearest Readers know, I do not subscribe to the Myth that profanity is a crutch for people with poor vocabulary or bad verbal expression skills. That's a load of bullshit---er--baloney. Cuss words are explosive and feel good to say; they release tension, dammit. I'll save my SAT words for another time when I feel serenely erudite.

TGIF! Unwind in Comments.


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r Is For republicans

Even in the title, I cannot bring myself to capitalize the R and give this political party any respect whatsoever, especially now.

My longtime readers have journeyed with me through both terms of the Angel Of Death (Bush 43), including my Despair of the Election Of The Dark Times. We watched my Countdown Clock until a Democrat finally sat in The Big Chair in the White House, and together we mocked the teapartiers with great mirth, critiquing their sad, poorly-executed signage. I declared my own suitability for Vice President, my love for past Democratic Presidents and Presidential Candidates, and offered to serve as a nonpartisan government Department of my own.

All of this Good Fun aside, for me The Politics is Serious Business, especially Presidential Politics. To put it into perspective, let me share a brief story with you:

In April, Rick and I were visiting a winery in Ontario, Canada, whose owner/winemaker was born in Poland. As we tasted and chatted, he wanted to talk Politics. He conveyed a deep dismay with the United States' embrace of its current republican standard bearer. "I don't understand," he said. "This guy is a clown, a television personality. He has no political experience, no diplomatic intelligence."

I assured him that I, for one, was not only disgusted by this candidate, but alarmed by him. "The American press and media have created a monster," I told him. "Because he makes good TV and good copy, they have legitimized and inflated his candidacy. And the republican party fringe element has found its Poster Boy. I could not be more disappointed and embarrassed."

"But Americans," my host continued rather passionately and knowingly, "they have to remember. They are not just electing a president of their country. They are, in fact, really electing a President of the Whole World. Don't they realize or think of that?"

Sigh.

I have to say, I seriously doubt that any of the republicans who have endorsed the current Presumptive Nominee of their party (however tepidly or reluctantly) have thought of that. At all. These pompous, cowardly, self-righteous self-preservationists have blindly put Party before Country and Position before Constituency. They would rather Fill The Chair than Help The Country. Or the Whole World.

It is repulsive.

Even as some republicans meekly condemn this yahoo nominee as racist or bigoted or wrongheaded or whatever, they always conclude their remarks with a statement of support. Even so-called Christian groups are conflicted, some conditionally withholding support, depending upon whether the presumptive republican nominee woos them effectively. Ugh.

How dare this party call itself The Party Of Lincoln? It bears no resemblance whatsoever to that assemblage, the one which railed against slavery and passed the Thirteenth Amendment. It was President Lincoln who said of one political party:

"I am not a Know-Nothing. That is certain. How could I be? How can any one who abhors the oppression of negroes, be in favor of degrading classes of white people? Our progress in degeneracy appears to me to be pretty rapid. As a nation, we began by declaring that “all men are created equal.” We now practically read it “all men are created equal, except negroes.” When the Know-Nothings get control, it will read “all men are created equal, except negroes, and foreigners, and Catholics.” When it comes to this I should prefer emigrating to some country where they make no pretense of loving liberty—to Russia, for instance, where despotism can be taken pure, and without the base alloy of hypocrisy."

It is a short bit of editing to make his remarks ring true for Today:

I am not a republican. That is certain. How could I be? How can any one who abhors the oppression of women, be in favor of degrading classes of any people? Our progress in degeneracy appears to me to be pretty rapid. As a nation, we began by declaring that “all men are created equal.” We now practically read it “all men are created equal, except Muslims.” When the republicans get control, it will read “all men are created equal, except Muslims, and women, and Mexicans.” When it comes to this I should prefer emigrating to some country where they make no pretense of loving liberty—to Russia, for instance, where despotism can be taken pure, and without the base alloy of hypocrisy.

No, this republican party is not The Party Of Lincoln. It's more like the Know-Nothing Party; the name--with this nominee especially--is a much better fit by far.

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Money Isn't Everything, And We're Worth Way More Than Twenty Bucks

Forgive me, Dear Readers, for this is certainly Old News to all of you, but I am only now hearing of the Campaign To Put A Woman On The Twenty-Dollar Bill. (I know; nothing gets past me for long.) Certainly this is something we need to talk about, and I haven't even sorted my own feelings about this yet. It's all terribly Grace Bedell-esque, isn't it?

In case anyone else has been similarly Out Of It, a little girl wrote to President Obama last year after doing a report on Anne Hutchinson, a Puritan woman who audaciously believed that God could speak to individuals, not just ministers, and who was termed a Jezebel by the local clergy for holding prayer services in her home. When this nine-year old student, Sofia, was watching other students give their reports, some of the others used paper money or coins as illustrations of their historical (male) figures. Sofia could not; neither could any of the other students who chose women. (Apparently no one chose Susan B. Anthony or Sacajawea.) She decided to write to the President and see if he could do something about this.

President Obama wrote back, albeit rather belatedly, and the Interwebs are now all aflutter with a campaign. Replacing President Andrew Jackson was the easy choice because of his tarnished reputation with Native Americans. ( The fact that he adopted two American Indian sons is not enough of a neutralizing factor.)  I'd rather we replace Benjamin Franklin because of his reputation as a known plagiarist and terrific bore, but no one asked me. (His reputation as a Big Deal among the French, especially their women, still amazes me, but then the French are quite fond of Jerry Lewis, too, so I have to say that they have historically Bad Taste In Men. Only their cuisine and wine save them. But I digress.)

Anyway.

The Interwebs got up a bigass poll as to which Historically Notable woman we want passed around by consumers in exchange for goods and services instead of President Andrew Jackson, and therein lies my Big Issue.

Obviously, I'm overthinking this. But the Principle Symbolism of passing around Eleanor Roosevelt, Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks, or Chief Wilma Mankiller in exchange for stuff is ... icky to me. I feel as if it defeats the Purpose of the thing. These women didn't traffic in a currency as low and mean as money. They stood for principles much more meaningful, much more important. They worked for Freedom, Equality, Rights, Dignity. I hate the idea of putting any of them on money.

Yes, I'm aware that my own Personal and Revered Hero, President Abraham Lincoln, is on two kinds of currency, coin and paper money, and for the most part, I've never given that much thought. But I do cringe at the commercials that use his likeness to trump sales for insurance in an undignified way, and caricatures or other likenesses on Presidents' Day. I hate it. It's sad when historical figures have no control over their names or likenesses (Don't get me started on the TV show "Salem." They should be ashamed and in court.) If I had my way, President Lincoln wouldn't be on money either. No one would be. Put the flag, the eagle, the purple mountains majesty on there. It's more dignified all the way around. (Look what happened in Canada with Spocking Fives.)

It's not that I'm against money. I like it, and I hope to see a lot more of it. But money should not be a monument. (To some people and political parties, it already is.) Money doesn't increase awareness of the people whose image it bears. That's easy enough to prove. Grab ten people off the street and ask them if they know whether Hamilton or Franklin was a president of the United States. (For the record, neither one was.)

Sofia, the letter-writer herself, seems to be unaware that we already have two women on currency. How much awareness of Susan B. Anthony and Sacajawea did those coins raise? And while a good argument can be made that the dollar coin is an unfamiliar and rarely used form of American currency, is a twenty-dollar bill really a teaching tool? Ask any nine-year old like Sofia to name who is on the nickel and who is on the quarter and see if she or he knows that they are two different presidents.

President Obama's response to Sofia is lovely and encouraging in just the right way. The response of the Interwebs is, in the words of William Shakespeare (not Benjamin Franklin, although he would steal them outright for his "Almanack"), "full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing."

Speaking for myself, I'd rather not have my life commemorated by appearing on currency. Its value goes up and down; it is passed around to hands of varying repute. It is used for things that I may never have foreseen or sanctioned. I would rather, if a person of note, leave my life in the hands of careful and kind teachers and historians.

Sofia can learn more from her report on Anne Hutchinson by following the example of Anne Hutchinson than she can from envying the lazy posters of her classmates. Become a keeper of the flame by teaching about notable women and become a Notable Woman herself. She has a lot of examples already to follow.

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I Need Your Help To Save November

Holy crap, it's November already! Of course, all of you knew this because as soon as Halloween candy began showing up on the shelves, Christmas doodads also insinuated themselves, their tinseled tentacles surreptitiously slithering along behind the fun-sized Snickers and the M&M Share-Paks. Now they've grabbed a bright and shiny hold and exploded into full-blown displays of giftwrap, Santas, tree-trimming shoppes, and Heaven Help Us, my Plain Dealer had The Toys R Us Big Toybook inserted into itself this past Sunday.

November has lost its personality. It is a month with an Identity Crisis. Think about it: September is still associated with the beginning of Autumn, the start of the school year, Labor Day, and the end of white shoes (no matter what the New Fashion Mavens may say). October is all about the orange and golden side of Fall, the gladiators on the gridirons, apple cider and cinnamon spice, and Halloween with its attendant ghosts and ghouls. We all know about December's personality: it's defined by Christmas or Hanukkah for most of us; it's festive and full of holiday spirit. It means decoration and colour and sparkle and snowy scenes and indulgence. It means, too, shopping and gifts and ribbons and wrapping. In a less commercial way, it can also mean music and family and togetherness and travels.

When I was a little gradeschooler, we always had a huge chartpaper calendar for every month, and every month had a picture or two on it that the teacher had cut out of construction paper. September had an apple and a ruler for back-to-school and maybe our county's bumper autumn crop. October had a jack-o-lantern. I loved February, which had a big red heart, and two silhouettes in cameo of Presidents Washington and Lincoln. (I think I was in love with President Lincoln even then.) For November the chartpaper calendar had a cutout of a big brown turkey. And we all made those construction paper turkeys by tracing our hands and then adding colored paper feathers with that crummy school paste that never held once it dried. (I never knew any paste-eaters, for the record. I wonder if that's an Urban Legend.)

But back to my point, and I do have one.

We need to Rally For Thanksgiving. This is a Holiday that has become lost along the way, obliterated by The Christmas Deathstar. And in that wake, November has become lost as well, also destroyed by The Politics, because aside from Thanksgiving (aka "That Day We Can Start Christmas Shopping For Reals!"), the only thing poor November is known for is dark money ads and Two-Party System Mudslinging.

I want to metaphorically paste a big ol' brown turkey back onto November and I want to save Thanksgiving. Will you help me? Will you Do Your Part? Because this is a Big Mission, and it will take All Of Us.

If you will, if you agree, Step One is to Take The Vow:

VOW: I will Honour Thanksgiving and keep it pure for all the month, not pushing it aside for Christmastime or Christmas Things.
(You can affirm your Vow in Comments.)

Step Two: You can join me in supporting the following retail establishments who will not be open for business on Thanksgiving Day:

1. DSW
2. Costco
3. Nordstrom
4. Dillard's
5. BJ's Wholesale Club
6. REI
7. Burlington Coat Factory
8. American Girl
9. Crate & Barrel
10. Jo-Ann Fabrics & Crafts
11. TJ Maxx
12. Marshalls
13. Pier 1 Imports
14. Publix
15. Sierra Trading Post
16. Radio Shack
17. Barnes & Noble
18. Home Depot
19. Sam's Club
20. Patagonia
21. GameStop

If you know of others, please let me know. I will add them to this list. As you know, I don't have The TwitFace, but many of you do. Use that account for The Purpose Of Goodness and thank these establishments for Honouring Thanksgiving and all it represents. I'll be pegging away in the Olde Fashionde Waye (emaile) to let them know my thoughts. There's nothing like a little slacktivism to satisfy the soul. When it finally comes time to shop for gifts, I'll happily shop at many of these places first.

Step Three: Revel in the Pure Joy Of Thanksgiving. How lovely a holiday is when it commemorates things for which we are grateful! It asks for nothing other than that we celebrate our blessings, no matter if they are great or small. We can do it in our own homes or gather at the homes of loved ones, whether they are friends, family, or both. If the table is bountiful, so much the better! And let's not forget the fact that there is no gift shopping or gift giving or gift wrapping or gift angst. And there is gravy, beautiful turkey gravy, which is the Pinnacle Of Gravy Achievement.

Step Four: This step is primarily mine. I'm going to try my darndest to write something Novembery/Thanksgivingy here every day. I'm not entirely certain what it will be, and don't worry--it won't be an endless month of Syrupy Happy Thankful For Puffy Clouds And Cute Kitties And Look! Here Is A Pretty Leaf! If you have a topic or a request, certainly speak right up.

I think that's it. Four steps. Let's Rally For Thanksgiving! Slow this bullet train called The Holidays right the hell down. November deserves its due, and Thanksgiving certainly does. Oh. I thought of one more thing. Please, out of deference to President Lincoln, who set Thanksgiving as an Official American Holiday in 1863, can we please stop referring to it as the so much less dignified "Turkey Day"? Thank You.

And The Greatest Of These Is Love...Of Learning

One of the objectives that was a Big Deal when I was still formally In Education was helping our students to become Lifelong Learners. At first glance, that looks sort of at odds with a more tangible goal, which is always to get them to graduate in four years. Becoming a Lifelong Learner, however, means to instill into each thriving mind that Love Of Learning--so much so that said mind wants to go on learning new things forever and forever.

I am a Lifelong Learner, but my education didn't make me that way. It's not that I didn't have excellent teachers all along the way; I did. Part of my quest for learning has to do with reading, and the other part has to do with an all-consuming Need To Know that completely commandeers my conscious mind and compels me to find out every single detail, fact, and available piece of information about whatever it is that currently interests me.

My lifelong learning has led me to, at various stages of my life, read deeply in, research the hell out of, and generally beat up the following topics, in no especial order:



1.  Jack the Ripper
2.  Cows
3.  R.M.S. Titanic
4.  Birds of North America
5.  Redwoods
6.  Oscar Wilde
7.  The Battle of Gettysburg
8.  Mary Lincoln
9.  Abraham Lincoln (1840-1865)
10. Human anatomy
11. John Keats
12. Emily Dickinson
13. The Black Donnellys
14. Daniel Day-Lewis

There are others, but I don't want to start freaking people out unnecessarily. I'm not counting the stuff I started to research because I had to teach it, either, like Walt Whitman. I was already deep into Miss Emily before she became part of my regular curriculum.

The Interwebs make this so very, very easy. If I hear about something on NPR, I can research it immediately on the Interwebs. I can then go on Amazon.com (my boyfriend!) and select books which my boyfriend will then send directly to my front porch in a few days or so. I can even get on Netflix and search for any documentaries on the topic. The amount of information available to me at my fingertips is almost overwhelming. There is so much that I can wallow in information: facts, details, witness accounts, photographs, recordings, testimony, you name it. For information addicts like me, it is heaven.

The problem with making Lifelong Learning an educational goal or objective is that it's impossible to achieve if you have a student with absolutely no natural curiosity. Or a student who doesn't/won't read. Or someone who doesn't care about anything but himself and his (insert trivial object here: cellphone, motorcycle, designer something).

I just this minute learned that someone from Maryland discovered what he thinks might be pictures of President Lincoln's funeral procession passing by on a New York City street. The photo, published on a Flickr site, is from the National Archives. Here's a link.  I'll be looking closely at it as soon as I hit "Publish" on this post.  Then, I'll probably click another link, then another, then another.  And pretty soon, I'll be looking at all kinds of other things and learning about them, too.

Being a Lifelong Learner is a gift.  Did you receive it?  What wonderful, interesting things have you learned about?

True Religion

When my mother decided to marry my father, she scandalized her entire family of Lutherans by secretly taking classes to convert to Roman Catholicism.  They already didn't care for her choice of husband:  he was older than her by four years, the son of immigrants, lived in Lorain, and had incited some pretty rebellious behavior from St. Patsy.  When her wedding day came, she had already been informed that her father would not be there to escort her down the aisle of a Catholic church.  She walked herself down the aisle.

Every time my mother tells that story, I have a hard time accepting it.  I think of my grandpa, a gentle, taciturn man whose voice I had never in my life heard raised.  He was an avid putterer, slow-moving, hands always busy, constantly mending, repairing, painting, trimming, fabricating doodads to make something work again like new.  He liked to tease gently, wink a lot, and get Grandma's goat.  The idea that he would purposely make anyone unhappy is alien to me.

And for what?  Religion?  My grandmother, who loved God and studied her Bible every single day, would be in attendance for her daughter.  She was devout.  She was the most religious person I knew.  For her, it was all about God's Word.  The interpreter was secondary.  She lived The Word.

My mother sacrificed a great deal to marry my father, and she continued a life of sacrifice in many ways.  As irony would have it, she became a far better Catholic than my father, whose church attendance was spotty at best and disinterested at worst.  All four of us kids were raised Roman Catholic and received the sacraments, although I'm the only one who was married in the Catholic church.

All of which leads us to today's question:

Do you still practice the same religion you grew up with, or a different religion, or none at all?

The short answer is none.  I became disillusioned with Catholicism a long, long time ago.  And I became even more wary of and disillusioned by Organized Religion in general.  And as the Christian churches became more and more of a political force, I got downright disgusted.  The things people do in the name of their god and their dogma make me sick.  It's nothing new, this war because of religion.  It's as old as the Crusades and...never mind.  You don't need a history lesson.

Instead of following a Religion, I follow a four-word rule.  It's pretty much President Lincoln's quote, pictured above, but compressed.  It is Kindness Is My Default.  In every situation, I try to default to Kindness first.  It doesn't cost me anything (like I used to think it did), and it often helps tremendously.  Think what an average day would be like if everyone had this rule.

I do understand the value of Religion to a great many people.  I do understand the Mystery Of Faith.  No one has to prove the existence of his or her God to me.  Religion is a deeply personal possession, a treasured comfort, a joy and satisfaction to its owner's soul.  It is an essential part of his or her identity.  I respect that.

But, by the same token, please respect my right to follow my own essence of Religion, a sort of self-rectitude, a kind of social benevolence by which I try, as Gandhi purportedly said, to be the change I wish to see in the world.

Unloading My Cerebral Slop So That I Can Achieve Navidad Nirvana

Some Skull Scraps are skittering about, threatening my Holiday Organization and my Christmas Zen, so I thought I'd unload a few of them here.  How are all of you doing with your Holiday Preparations?  Are we downsizing and common-sensing?  Have we redefined our Holiday Philosophies?  I can't wait to hear!  Anyway, on with the Cranial Clear-Out!

Rick's company Christmas party was a little while ago.  It was a very
nice get-together at a local restaurant. His boss is so genial, and his coworkers are friendly and fun.  We ordered off of the menu--so cheffy and seasonal; I had fresh-made pasta--and the bar was open for the evening.  Unfortunately, at one point, one of the guests suddenly slumped forward in his chair, eyes closed, and he became unresponsive.  His wife, who said nothing like this had ever happened before, was paralyzed with terror.  Everyone talked at once, all trying to help, and it was a circus.   Finally, I grabbed a napkin, dipped it into my ice water, and started to press it against his wrists and forehead as well as the back of his neck.  I bent low, and in my Teacher Voice, I started asking very direct questions, addressing him by name.  I asked him where he was, what day it was, and who the President of the United States was.  He answered each one correctly.  I then asked him if he took medications for high blood pressure, then diabetes.  He said no.  Still, however, he was slumped and his eyes were closed.  I concurred with others that there should be a call to 911.  As I continued to apply a cool cloth, I overheard two other guests talking.  "Is she a nurse?" asked one.  "No, she's a teacher," responded the other one with a confidence and reassurance that made me smile.  She might have said, "No, she's Batman."  Happily, the stricken guest, after a night in the ER for tests, is back at work, but he has been scheduled for a stress test and more bloodwork to make a final determination regarding diabetes. 

Help me out here.  Is it just me, or is this package of men's underwear really...ambiguous and sort of winky winky nudgy nudgy?  I mean, when you have the words POUCH, JOCKEY, PACKAGING, and FIT on a bag of men's undies, you cannot tell me that I am the only one who is standing there in Macy's thinking...Those Thoughts.  Is this really a serious pack of underwear?  What exactly is "Same great Pouch fit"?  I asked Rick and he said he had no idea.  Then again, this is not his brand or type of undergarments.  And why is Pouch capitalized like a proper noun?  Is that an anthropomorphic name for men's genitals?  So, say a guy wants to have sex; does he say, "Honey, come to bed and say hi to Pouch"?  I'm telling you--this sack of underwear is taking up a lot of my time.




Tuesday night I was preparing dinner--another Nance Original--and it involved a lot of chopping and cutting. In the middle of quartering a Brussels sprout, the knife slipped and sliced deeply into my little finger, right at the tip on the side.  Holy crap, did that thing bleed like hell.  Of course I was home alone.  I applied pressure with a paper towel and held my hand above my head and ran to the bathroom.  Do you know how hard it is to try to open a box of bandaids and then put one on with only one hand, all the while trying to keep the cut hand elevated?  It is damned hard.  And bloody.  AND--do you know how hard it is to type with your left little finger all bandaged up and sore?  Do you KNOW how many words have A's in them?  Too effing many is how many.  I should have had stitches, but since that requires a visit to the hospital, that would be a NO.

I still have so many things to tell you about my terrific trip to Gettysburg.  We had an outing every single day, and sometimes more than one.  You know, I've been going to Gettysburg for more than forty years.  And one of the things I love about it is that it isn't afraid to change.  Oh, the historic preservation is astonishing and thanks to a very involved core of the citizenry, more and more land is regained by the land conservancy and kept from developers.  I don't mean change like that.  Gettysburg will always love and revere their history, and they constantly fight to preserve it.  I mean change as in perspective and truth.  When I first went to Gettysburg, it was all about battle strategies, generals, and casualties.  Into the seventies, it changed its perspective to peace and became more about Lincoln.  Now, Gettysburg focuses on the townspeople, the people whose lives were invaded by a war they didn't fight in, but one that came into their lives and changed them anyway.  It highlights the lives of women who were suddenly nurses, black citizens who had to live in fear of becoming slaves and being shipped south, and German immigrants who were accused of being cowardly and disloyal.  It also gives child visitors a look at the way children of the town helped out even though they were frightened.



One stop in Gettysburg was at a gallery called Lincoln into Art.  I met the artist, Wendy Allen, and she told me a little about her work and her gallery and living in Gettysburg.  She paints Abraham Lincoln.  He is her subject, her inspiration, and her livelihood in town.  It's really quite amazing.  She paints in a variety of styles: Pollock, Van Gogh, a sort of Mondrian with the words of the Address, even some Impressionist influence can be seen.  So many of her portraits had a singular feature which captivated me--the eyes.  She does Abraham Lincoln's eyes so that they convey the gentle melancholy of the man.  Visit her website here.  Incredible.

I wandered among history and, at times, became quite lost in it.  Yet, oddly, I felt quite comfortable among the relics of the Past as if it were sort of a homecoming.  It's hard to explain.  Certainly much of it had to do with a familiarity of having grown up with the battle and its lore since forever.  Being with my aunt and uncle, both gracious hosts and history enthusiasts, had quite a lot to do with it, too.  Still, I cannot discount the real affinity I feel with Gettysburg and what happened there and how much the people now work to preserve its legacy.  My family there--especially my cousin Mark--are all involved in the land conservancy project.  It's heartening.

Speaking of family there--allow me to end with a bit of a commercial.  Ann's items--or Purdy Sew 'n Sews--can be shipped Priority Mail in time for Christmas.  FREE!  But don't dilly dally.  Not to impose upon your New And Improved Relaxed Christmas, you know. But...even we don't have Forever.

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Because...Politics

I was going to make a (lame) joke about the Dept. of Nance being closed as part of the Government Shutdown as a way of explaining this gap between postings, but the longer this crap has dragged on, the more my outrage has grown.  I'm always unreasonably  incredibly outraged by republicans in general, as you know, but this time, I am so angry and so incredulous that I find myself unable to write about anything else until I get this out and sorted.

If there were more time, each and every one of these idiot House members should be forced to go to their district, rent at their own expense a commodious enough hall, and have an open meeting with constituents who can grill them with Reality Questions, such as, "Do you know how much a pound of hamburger costs here?" and "Do you know how much it costs to fill up the average family car with gasoline?" and "What the goddam hell is it that I am paying you to do in Washington and why in the holy hell are you doing something else?" and "What are you, a big fucking idiot?"  And that moron should have to stand--oh, yes, by heaven--STAND there and answer every single question, no matter if he/she is there until noon the next day.  Or the next.

But, of course, there is no time.  Because we are Governing By Panic Button.  And, by "We", of course I mean the republicans.  Please do not sprinkle rose petals on my path and Pollyanna at me by saying, "Oh, now.  It's both parties' fault.  Everyone is to blame.  Both sides need to come together and yadda yadda blah blah blah."  If you do that, be prepared for me to smack the everloving shit right out of you.  Because you are also a big idiot.  It is not both parties' fault.  Do the Democrats want to go back in time like a science fiction character and change a four-year-old law that has already been declared constitutionally sound by The United States Supreme Court?  That's really the only example that is germane here.  Which party is known as The Party Of No?  Which party touted itself as having an agenda as Jobs Jobs Jobs, yet held more than thirty-five meaningless votes--that they knew would go nowhere--to abolish the Affordable Care Act?  Where are the Jobs Jobs Jobs?

Some people with Jobs Jobs Jobs lost them because of the Sequester, brought to you, ultimately, by the republicans, who are happy because it contains their favorite thing, spending cuts.  It was another game of chicken before another debt ceiling fight, and they begrudgingly cut defense spending as long as a bunch of other cuts were made.  Oh well, they said.  At least we tightened America's Belt.

Now, thanks to the republicans and their inbred cousins, the teapartiers, we are in the kind of position that makes me aghast and ashamed.  It's the same way I felt when I watched with ever-increasing horror the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.  Every moment of news coverage, every day, I stared at footage and reports with wide eyes and gaping mouth.  I kept repeating the same questions over and over again, "How is this my country?  How is this happening in America?"

I'm saying the same thing now.  It was with complete and utter disbelief that I listened to the report that America, The United States of America, had to accept charity in order to pay the death benefits to the surviving families of fallen troops.  And then the reporter said, "This will ease the pressure on both sides, giving them a little more time to work towards an agreement now that this has been taken care of."  Ease the pressure?  I would think it would increase the pressure, knowing that this country cannot even take care of the people who "gave the last full measure of devotion" in service to their country.  It's appalling. The United States of America goes begging like a street urchin.

What on earth has happened to my country?  Who are these people sitting in Washington D.C.?  Have they no conscience?  Have they no loyalty to anything but themselves and their screwed-up ideologies?  Have they no responsibility to those of us who live here and work here and care about what it means to be an American? Have they no sense of history?  No love of this country and the men and women who have fought and still fight for it? 

I think all of them--but most especially the republicans--need to read something.  It's something that will remind them why they are there.  It's not to advance their own stature or to get a plum committee assignment so that they can puff up their resumes to run for something else.  It's not to advance their personal biases and prejudices to a national platform.  And it's not to create chaos and headlines to stroke their ego.  It's about how government and democracy are hard-won.  It reminds them that people other than them do the dirty work of freedom.  It reminds them that democracy is somehow always fledgling, and it needs care to grow and flourish.  It won't take long;  it's less than 275 words.  Send it to your representative and remind him/her that it's your America, too.  Go, read.


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On History We Share

Recently, I went on a lovely jaunt south to Virginia, where I met up with Shirley and Veronica.  These ladies kindly played Tour Guide to me and I was able to add to my Civil War Battlefield Portfolio.  Poor Virginia!  Its woods are still scarred by soldiers' trenches, and the battles there evoked what is for me one of President Lincoln's most poignant quotes, "My god! What will the country say?"

My time at these sites made me thoughtful:  of history, of politics, of my childhood, and of perspective.  It sent me back into that impressive book Battle Cry of Freedom by James M. McPherson, which I will quote at length in this post.

When I was a kid growing up in NEO, my dad worked at the steel mill in our town, and my mom stayed home.  I had three siblings, and for family vacations, we did it on the cheap.  Lots of times we packed up and drove to Gettysburg, PA to impose on my Aunt Shirley and Uncle Dick and their three kids for a week or so.  They lived across the street from a huge battlefield marker and up the hill was another one.  Back then, townies also got into all the museums and everything for free, so for at least a few days, we'd steal the neighbor kids' identities, walk uptown, and do all the attractions. I loved the Jennie Wade house, the Electric Map, and one uncle even worked part time at the Lincoln Train Museum.  At first, the Gettysburg experience seemed to be all about battle strategies, weapons, casualties, generals, and maneuvers.  Sometime in the seventies (I think), that seemed to change.  It was suddenly all about Lincoln and the Union.  Maybe it was just me.  Maybe I grew up, or maybe my perspective changed.  But I remember that shift very palpably.  It didn't dampen my ardor for Gettysburg in the least:  I eagerly went on any car tour narrated by my aunt, hoping to glean more information to add to my expanding mythoi of the battlefield and its monuments.

In Virginia I was curious as to how a Southern State--the seat of the Confederacy--would present its history of the Civil War.  The Battles of Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville were both Confederate victories, despite their ultimate defeat.  In Virginia's Civil War History, Abraham Lincoln is the architect of destruction for some citizens' family trees.  Richmond, the capital, was a symbolic prize for the Union army, and its citizens knew it; they burned their own city to the ground as they fled before the bluecoats got there.  For much of the South near the end of the war, life had become an endurance test.  Federal troops were single-mindedly marching, taking provisions, doing anything to end the war, even if it meant brutal conditions for civilians.  If I were a Southerner, I would want some respect paid to that story.  It's a fine line to walk, I would imagine.

As is always my experience with our nation's National Park Service, there is a great reverence and honor for the battlefield sites and stories I visited in Virginia.  The focus there is very human and personal as the displays remind visitors of native Virginians who fought in the battles there, and whether they survived or gave their lives for their Cause.  Especially humbling and poignant is the Fredericksburg National Cemetery on Marye's Heights, the terraced ground in which rests over 15,000 Union dead, most of whom are unknown.

It is all so very, very sobering.  Abraham Lincoln was elected president on November 6, 1860.  On December 20, 1860, South Carolina became the first state to secede from the Union.  In relatively rapid succession followed states Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, Texas, Virginia, Arkansas, North Carolina, Tennessee; these went on, of course, to make up the Confederate States of America (CSA).

(Ironically, unless Virginia leans Democratic, it seems that these states will vote against a man from Illinois again.)

It's conventional wisdom that our country, highlighted by election year politics, is polarized.  We were divided into Red and Blue by election maps, 1% and 99% by a movement, and a host of other designations that, sometimes, we chose ourselves.  During the Civil War, we truly were a country divided.  Consider this, from author McPherson (859):

Before 1861 the two words "United States" were generally rendered as a plural noun:  "the United States are a republic." The war marked a transition of the United States to a singular noun.  The "Union" also became the nation, and Americans now rarely speak of  their Union except in an historical sense.  Lincon's wartime speeches betokened this transition.  In his first inaugural address he used the word "Union" twenty times and the word "nation" not once.  In his first message to Congress, on July 4, 1861, he used "Union" thirty-two times and "nation" three times.  In his letter to Horace Greeley of August 22, 1862, on the relationship of slavery to the war, Lincoln spoke of the Union eight times and of the nation not at all.  Little more than a year later, in his address at Gettysburg, the president did not refer to the "Union" at all but used the word "nation" five times to invoke a new birth of freedom and nationalism for the United States.

A house divided against itself cannot stand.--A. Lincoln

The old federal republic in which the national government had rarely touched the average citizen except through the post office gave way to a more centralized polity that taxed the people directly and created an internal revenue bureau to collect these taxes, drafted men into the army, expanded the jurisdiction of federal courts, created a national currency and a national banking system, and established the first national agency for social welfare--the Freedmen's Bureau.

The legitimate object of government is to do for a community of people whatever they need to have done, but cannot do at all, or cannot so well do, for themselves, in their separate and individual capacities. In all that the people can individually do as well for themselves, government ought not to interfere. The desirable things which the individuals of a people cannot do, or cannot well do, for themselves, fall into two classes: those which have relation to wrongs, and those which have not.--A. Lincoln 

This change in the federal balance paralleled a radical shift of political power from South to North. During the first seventy-two years of the republic down to 1861 a slaveholding resident of one of the states that joined the Confederacy had been President of the United States for forty-nine of those years--more than two-thirds of the time.  In Congress, twenty-three of the thirty-six speakers of the House and twenty-four of the presidents pro tem of the Senate had been southerners. The Supreme Court always had a southern majority....After the war a century passed before a resident of an ex-Confederate state was elected president.  For half a century none of the speakers of the House or presidents pro tem of the Senate came from the South, and only five...justices...were southerners.

These figures symbolize a sharp and permanent change in the direction of American development....Thus when secessionists protested that they were acting to preserve traditional rights and values, they were correct....The South's concept of republicanism had not changed in three-quarters of a century; the North's had.  With complete sincerity the South fought to preserve its vision of the republic of the founding fathers--a government of limited powers that protected the rights of property and whose constituency comprised an independent gentry and yeomanry of the white race undisturbed by large cities,heartless factories, restless free workers, and class conflict. The accession to power of the Republican party, with its ideology of competitive, egalitarian, free-labor capitalism, was a signal to the South that the northern majority had turned irrevocably toward this frightening, revolutionary future.  Indeed, the Black Republican party appeared to the eyes of many southerners as "essentially a revolutionary party."...[I]nsisted Jefferson Davis during the Civil War, "We are resisting revolution....We are conservative." (860-1)

Be not deceived.  Revolutions do not go backward.--A. Lincoln

Ah, Politics! I Hardly Knew Ye!

I'm seriously thinking of giving up The Politics completely.  Truly, I am.  The past couple of years I've removed myself gradually, anyway--with a few relapses here and there--because it has all gotten to be so much noise.

Those of us in the Swing States (CNN currently lists them as Nevada, Colorado, Iowa, Ohio, Virginia, Florida, and New Hampshire; The NYT adds Wisconsin) are in a constant media maelstrom of Super PAC propaganda.  In the evening hours especially, political adverts are stacked one on top of the other in a relentless barrage of partisan garbage.  Every single commercial break in Ohio has at least one (and that number would be a blessing), but more often, there are three or four in a row.  I witnessed the same fusillade of campaign proselytizing in Virginia in June.  Virginians also have a Senate race to decide, as do Ohioans, so we both get an extra helping of PAC crap.

I don't even listen anymore.  Yes, I've read The Research:  I know that the reason the ads are so negative is because They Work.  And, yes, I was one of the ones who said that Pres. Obama needed to get tough and dirty with the republicans because that's how they played the game.  For the record, I still say that.

But, thanks to the Supreme Court decision in 2010, we're all on overload.  A modicum of relief is coming, however:  On September 11th, the official campaigns of both presidential candidates are suspending ads.  Additionally, the primary pro-Obama Super PAC has agreed to stop running commercials in deference to the day as well.  But I want more.

I want the ads to be confined to one political ad per candidate per commercial break.  I want the ads to run only three months before any election.  I want there to be Ad-Free Days during the week, decided by each network, and that can be decided locally or nationally; I don't care.  I think those parameters are more than fair.  I've stated no regulations here about positive or negative; none regarding the Super PAC's monies or whether or not they have to be traceable or local in origin.  That stuff is already a lost cause.

The Politics used to be Fun for me.  Now it's ugly and tedious and tiresome, like cleaning the basement or arguing with a friend.  Whenever I can, I get rid of anything that's not fulfilling me.  So, The Politics has to go.

Part of my disgust, I think, has been all my reading and research into President Lincoln.  He was far from perfect, but in his service to the country, he remained thoughtful and mindful of the country.  He knew that some of the advisers he had around him had personal agendas and personal animosity toward him, but he valued them for their common desire to preserve the Union and for the expertise they brought in achieving that outcome.  He was a man who faced many tribulations simultaneously in all facets of his life:  a country at war, the deaths of his sons, a mercurial wife, a rebellious Congress, an often melancholy spirit, a series of failures as General for his Army of the Potomac, the cruelty of a fickle public and press, but he worked tirelessly for the restoration of his country.

The irony that my favourite president is a republican is not lost on me.  Yet, one would have to search deeply and profoundly to find any similarity between the current republican party and the party of Abraham Lincoln.  I wonder if he would be able to call himself a republican were he to find himself alive today.

In the meantime, I'll absent myself from The Politics of today in favour of the politics of yesterday.   

I'm Back From Vacation And My Brain Is Bursting--Time To Swiffer The Cerebellum

Time for a good Clear-Out of the Cranial Crud, so let's just get on with it, shall we? Good!

1.  Why Can't I Quit You?    I am talking about my LoveHate, Daniel Day-Lewis.  Not to be tedious here, but my Longtime Readers know of my eleventy hundred year affair with this man and my dismay with his failure to A) reprise his Glory Days of The Last of the Mohicans by taking glamour roles and B) look handsome and dress well in public the few times he does surface.

Right now, the stars have aligned and three of my Favourite Things have come together as one:  President Lincoln, historian Doris Kearns Goodwin, and DD-L, for a movie has been made of her wonderful book Team of Rivals and DD-L is playing Lincoln.  When I heard this news, I was elated and thrilled.  When I saw this picture of DD-L as President Lincoln, I was excited. 

Then I saw his picture from the White House Correspondents' Dinner, where he was (inexplicably) a guest of The Huffington Post.

There is no excuse for that haircut.  His next role is a 17th century Jesuit priest who travels to Japan.  It is in pre-production. It's like he doesn't even care how much he embarrasses me.

2.  Why Didn't Someone Yell Cut?  And speaking of President Lincoln and film, I could not be more outraged, disappointed, and saddened by the ridiculous movie currently in theaters (and which I will not name here) that turns our 16th president into some sort of occult action hero.  Why not Nixon or Washington, or, oh hell, let's grab a non-president with a distinctive and readily-identifiable persona, Benjamin Franklin?

from Amazon Studios

 Honestly, the whole premise offends me.  Oh, I know that I'm sensitive to Anything Lincoln--I get that.  But it's awful.  I really believe that the only reason the filmmakers and producers are getting away with this travesty is because there are no surviving direct descendants of the Lincoln line.

3.  Doesn't Anyone Else Speak English?  Now, back to books.  Those of you who actually read at my site may have noticed in the sidebar that I'm reading--off and on--a book titled The Whole Truth by David Baldacci.  It's not My Kind Of Book, but I got it because A) it was part of my campaign to broaden my reading spectrum and not be so snobby; B) it was only a few bucks in hardback when a bookstore was closing; and C) it is a genre that a buddy of mine enjoys.  So I'm reading this and I notice a sentence that rocks me up off my chaise longue and causes me to say out loud to no one,"Oh my GOD NO WAY IS THIS IN HERE!"  Here is the offending sentence from page 165: When the screams reached Anna's ear, she thought someone had injured themself.  

I. Know.  Go ahead.  Look up "themself" in the dictionary (or try anyway).  Look up "someone."  Now look up the rule governing pronoun-antecedent agreement, just for the hell of it.  Then try not to kill yourself at any point along the way.   And this sentence is only one example.  I took this sentence to lunch with a bunch of English teachers, and during our chat, I said, "I bet if I did a Fry Readability Assessment on this book, it would score only about a sixth grade level.  Seriously.  It's a New York Times best seller, and it's just so elementary.  It's a Guy Book, but it's just basic." My friend Caroline said, "Who's it by, now?"  I said, "David Baldacci."  She responded with a grimace, "Well, what did you expect from a former child star who has had a bunch of drug problems and all that?  Wasn't he the one from The Partridge Family?"  (Gotta love her. But she just had a baby and a job change and...well, she gets a pass from me.) 

Now, I look at David Baldacci's bio.  He has a ton of best sellers to his credit and I have...zero.  He established the Wish You Well foundation, which, ironically, supports "family literacy in the United States by fostering and promoting the development and expansion of new and existing literacy and educational programs."  In the acknowledgements of The Whole Truth, he thanks his editor for doing a great job.  (But who allowed this sentence on p. 270:  Creel was actually a private investor in the newspaper and he'd been the one who'd discreetly behind the scenes orchestrated the assignment for her.)  And the Fry?  I was wrong. 

Hard to see, but my dot indicates the score. Maybe you can click and it will enlarge.

It graphed out at a 6.5 grade reading level, age 11.5.  David Baldacci is a Good Guy, but his writing is not for me.

4.  Speaking of bookstores, I want to come clean publicly for being The Responsible Party, The One Who Singlehandedly Closed Borders.  I'm sorry.  It was I.  I was the one who simply stopped going to bookstores and chose the Evil Convenience of Amazon.com.  I didn't even browse Borders and have cappuccino or biscotti or any of those other fun words to say at their cafe.  I was lured by the comfort of my chair at home and Super Saver Shipping.  I felt dirty and sinful and like a Horrid Opportunist when I swooped in and grabbed cheapo hardbacks during their Last Days, like the warty old women bartering over Scrooge's bedcurtains.  Please don't hate me.  I want redemption,  Help me.

5.  Finally, if you are sick of Sudoku and finding crosswords too conventional, allow me to introduce you to Jotto.  I have no idea how I found out about this addictive and frustrating little words and letters game, but it's too late to blame them now.  You're welcome.

Your turn.  Kick out some of your Cranium Clutter in Comments.