LEISURELY THOUGHTS
from Howard
29 December 2006. Barbarism continues.
I'm very anti-death penalty, even when the convicted person is a murderous creep, as is the case with Saddam Hussein. The news today is that Saddam Hussein will probably be executed by hanging sometime over this weekend. Let me get this straight: He is guilty of using his government to murder political enemies, so we'll teach him that that's bad by having the new government execute him? Governments should not be given the power to kill anyone; otherwise, there are potentially no limits in their selections of murder victims. And he was convicted for crimes against humanity? So when are the trials for bush and Cheney and Rumsfeld? I'll go on record as saying that when they are convicted for their war crimes, they should not be executed. A life sentence is punishment enough.
And so this strange story closes out the year 2006, a year of strange stories. One of the strangest: bush firing Rumsfeld the day after the congressional elections, less than a week after he had said that Rumsfeld would be with him through the rest of his presidential term (even though he knew when he said this that it was a lie). My favorite strange story of the year: the downfall of Rev. Ted Haggard of Colorado Springs, Colorado, pastor of a 14,000-member evangelical mega-church and president of the National Association of Evangelicals (which has 30,000,000 members in the U.S.). When initially facing "sordid" accusations against him, he readily admitted to buying crystal meth from the gay prostitute but denied having sex. Like maybe people were going to say, "Oh, just buying illegal drugs? Well, in that case it's all right!"? You have to admit that it's impressive that a guy like that could build a 14,000-member church out of nothing, apparently by orchestrating glitzy Sunday-morning services with plenty of mindless entertainment. Maybe in his mind back then, he was thinking, Hey, I could build a mega-church! -- or should I produce a Broadway show?? and decided that the church would pay better. Come out, Ted! I see a Tony Award in your future.
Jerry and I have our "anniversary" of meeting on New Year's Eve, so we'll probably go out that night and have some sort of celebration. The irony of that is that neither of us like New Year's Eve, a somewhat depressing holiday. We only met on that New Year's Eve eight years ago because each of us was at home being boring. Yep, you guessed it. We met in an internet chat room.
Hope your New Year's is fun. Have a great 2007.
One more thought pertaining to Saddam Hussein. Do you know that his favorite song is Strangers in the Night by Frank Sinatra?? Obviously this man was more twisted than we realized!
19 December 2006. This month went quick. Less than a week until Christmas. Hope it's a good one for you.
Jerry and I went to the Vikings game the other day. They were playing the New York Jets, which is Jerry's second-favorite football team (When you're a Vikings fan, you always need a backup team). He was very torn, watching his two favorite teams play, so he sat there wearing his Jets jersey for the first half and his Vikings jersey for the second half. People around us were very confused! (My #1 team is the Philadelphia Eagles, my home-town team -- the Vikings come in second).
I've been back to reading again, at least, but am for some reason currently reading political books going back a few years. First I read Barry Goldwater's autobiography and now I'm into Theodore White's The Making of the President 1960. Maybe it's some sort of political nostalgia on my part. I do have this love-hate relationship with politics, and it's easy to fall into the "hate" side of it during these Karl Rove years of dirty campaign tactics and non-discussion of the real issues. Then I watch bush trying his best to ignore the Iraq Study Group and at the same time consider sending another 30,000 troops to Iraq (where are these troops going to come from?), and I stay political.
We're heading to southern Illinois for a couple days, then back here to Minneapolis for Christmas with Jon, Tom and Joan. Trip alert: we're going to the Bahamas for five days in January.
25 November 2006. If I were a person who still had birthdays, yesterday might have been one of those days. Just in case it was, I did get to spend it with my sons Jon and Tom, my sister Joan, and Jerry, and there were presents and cake and birthday stuff, and we did something we do every three Novembers or so -- we went to see the new James Bond movie -- this year, Casino Royale. Even though they've changed a lot, I have been a fan of James Bond movies for forty-some years (which should at least partly explain to you why I don't do birthdays anymore). There's a new James Bond, and I liked him -- although, let's face it, nobody will ever be James Bond like Sean Connery was. And Casino Royale was one of the few Ian Fleming James Bond books that I actually read -- long ago. I remembered the torture scene from the book! :-(
Earlier in the week, through Thanksgiving, we were visiting Jerry's family in southern Illinois. Here's some trivia for you fiction-readers out there. From the airport in Indianapolis to Jerry's home town (about two hours driving), we took a different route than usual just to see some different scenery (although calling that part of Indiana and Illinois "scenery" is a bit of a stretch). We came through one town just twenty miles north of where Jerry's parents live, and the welcome sign said "Robinson, Illinois -- Home of the Author James Jones". So do you know who James Jones was? Well, I'll tell you. Among his novels were From Here to Eternity and The Thin Red Line. He was a relatively big name in literary circles in the 1950s and 60s. Good novelists can come from anywhere, I guess. On the other hand, maybe these small mid-western cities would have been more stimulating back in the middle of the last century, back before they were all Wal-Martted to death.
16 November 2006. Today, I was walking down Nicollet Mall about noontime in downtown Minneapolis, and I noticed a line of maybe 25 people lining the sidewalk, sitting or lying, in front of the Target store. They were in layers of warm clothes and sleeping bags (This is Minnesota in November, you know -- it's near freezing out there). My friend Todd, walking with me, said, "No, they're not homeless people. They're lined up waiting for the PlayStation3 to go on sale." The game goes on sale tomorrow morning, which means that those people are going to be staying there in their sleeping bags on the sidewalk in freezing temperature all night waiting for the store to open in the morning so they can plunk down $600 to buy the updated PlayStation, which is apparently only available on a very limited basis. Wow, am I out of touch! I admit that I don't like video games anyway, but can somebody explain to me why anybody would do this?
This morning, I ran into Sarah, a former co-worker of mine that I haven't seen in two or three years. Among her other claims to fame, Sarah was once the Minnesota Draft Horse Queen and is an expert at "Cow Bingo". She told me she still reads this web site on a regular basis, and she demanded that I update these leisurely thoughts much more often. Wow -- my dull life? OK, Sarah, I'll do what I can.
Election night last week was fun. It felt so weird and different to be celebrating and partying on election night instead of feeling total despondency. Now, with luck, we can sit around for the next couple years and watch the bush administration disintegrate. May history never forgive them.
The Pet Shop Boys concert was great fun. The Vikings games have been awful. I still love my car. Etc., etc., etc.
Went to the touring Broadway show the other night, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. It was hilarious, I loved it. And the new James Bond movie opens this week. Am I predictable, or what?? It could be worse. I could be on the cold, hard sidewalk. Or playing a video game.
25 October 2006. Yesterday was Jerry's birthday, and his gift to himself was another Streisand concert. After we had our tickets for the concert in Philadelphia early this month, Barbra announced that she was adding the Twin Cities to her tour. Her appearance was last night, Jerry's birthday, at the Xcel arena in downtown St. Paul. This time, Jerry and Joan were in the third row. I stayed home (Too much money, even for an out-of-control spender like me). I did love seeing her in Philly, though.
Lots of political stuff lately. I'll be so glad when the mid-term elections are over. I'm just hoping that the optimistic polls showing the Democrats taking back Congress are credible, but I also know that a lot can happen in the last days before an election, especially with the party in power controlling media happenings and trumped-up terror alerts and such. They have no cards to play other than more fear, and I really don't understand how even that issue works for them. They've wrecked things.
Other things are going through my brain. Some times on a personal level are harder than other times. I'm finding it hard to sit down and relax with a book these days, and you know how much I usually enjoy reading books. I tried working on writing a short story, a rather bizarre fantasy. I need some more spare time, and I'm tired of saying that.
Fun stuff coming up this week: the Pet Shop Boys here in concert (my son Tom and I have been Pet Shop Boys fans for years); attending the Monday night football game at the Metrodome (the Vikings hosting the New England Patriots); the start of the Minnesota Timberwolves season (we'll be at the opener).
My co-worker friend Eric is reading Owen Meany -- in German.
02 October 2006. An evergreen moment, early October.
I was going to go on another anti-bush rant -- all about how the republicans (and too many Democrats) have voted to allow torture, to allow a space-cadet like bush to identify who a potential terrorist is, to allow the Constitution to be discarded -- but I'll spare you that this time. Let's find something less disturbing (But don't you sometime miss the way we were?).
Ah! The Minnesota Twins are in the baseball playoffs!
And Jerry and Joan and I are heading to my beloved southern New Jersey for a week. Weather forecast is good. Wednesday night, they are taking me to Philadelphia for the first night of the Barbra Streisand concert tour. I'm not a big Barbra fan (except politically), but they are, and I'm sure I'll enjoy. But my heart belongs to me.
Go,
Twins! (Later comment: HA!)
18 September 2006. I have a moment to sit with a nice cup of East Frisian tea and catch my breath. We are going through another phase of work/social life maximation (and I see that spell-check doesn't allow the word "maximation", so maybe there is no such word, but you know what I mean, I think). When I keel over from a heart attack, no one will be too surprised.
Our political involvement for the mid-term Congressional election in November is filling up our schedules, which were already filled up by twelve-hour work days, and, if we weren't so determined to getting anti-bush candidates elected, we would be cutting back. What benefits this involvement is bringing us, though! We are meeting lots of great political people, some of them high-profile. There was one night a couple weeks ago that we had dinner at Al Franken's house and mingled with our Congressional candidates, as well as Howard Dean. You might remember that I've met Howard Dean several times (Jerry and I were Deaniacs in 2004), including one time when I asked him if he liked John Irving (he doesn't). At this same dinner party at Al Franken's house, I had a good long political conversation with Garrison Keillor (He and I both agree that Al Gore so far is our Presidential candidate choice for 2008).
Then Saturday night, we met the ultimate superstar of the Democratic Party, Bill Clinton, at a big fundraiser in St. Paul. Jerry and I had our picture taken with him; if it turns out, I'll attempt to scan and put it here on the website (I didn't get to say much to Clinton, but my guess is that Al Gore at this point would not be his choice for the 2008 Presidential candidate). President Clinton was not my "dream President", but he handled the Presidency well, for the most part, and he usually made us proud as he represented us to the world. The current resident of the White House, by contrast, is a daily embarrassment.
"Maximization" -- Maybe that's the word I meant. Spell check takes that. But I don't think the meaning is the same.
The next day after the Clinton dinner, we went to the Vikings game and cheered for other heroes. Vikings 16, Carolina 13 in overtime. The Vikings are somehow 2-0, but next week they play the Chicago Bears. We'll be there. There's still a lot to do.
Happy birthday to my friend Elke.
30 August 2006. Something before summer ends.
I realized while we were in New Mexico that I'm not a writer, because I couldn't think of words to describe the beauty of that state -- or at least the part of New Mexico where we were, Santa Fe and north to Taos. So I won't try. Santa Fe is the capital of New Mexico (as you undoubtedly remember from third grade) and is a city of only about 65,000 but is a heavily traveled tourist area for its arts attractions and fine weather. I can only handle so many art galleries, especially galleries so devoted to southwestern art, but I do appreciate a city where the arts are emphasized. The Santa Fe Opera turned out to be wonderful. The opera house is about five miles outside the city, on a mountain top, with a roof but no walls, seats about 2,200. The setting is magnificent (again, I have no words) -- the performances also. I won't be surprised if we go back next summer for another week of five operas. Support your local opera company!
And as it turns out -- what does it matter what you learned in third grade? Now that we find out that Pluto isn't a planet, what else isn't true?
It was another weird summer for news junkies. Besides the dissing of the Plutonians, we discovered, once and for all, that Mel Gibson is a creep; that george w bush in addition to loving wars (as long as somebody else's kids are fighting them) also loves fart jokes; and that one more person could be found who did not murder JonBenet Ramsey. Cheer up. It's hurricane season.
05 August 2006. Jerry thought I was nuts when I decided to drive to the East Coast by myself, but something was calling me to the open road! I did have some guilt about using up all that gasoline at $3.09 a gallon (and we just saw the Al Gore global-warming movie), but, other than that, I enjoyed every minute of it, even in the dullest turnpike stretches of Indiana and Ohio. I had more-than-usual time to spend with relatives in New Jersey, got to re-acquaint with the Atlantic Ocean once again, had a cheesesteak or two, and headed back to a 102-degree Minneapolis (Global warming run amok). That was a couple weeks ago. Now it's on to the next trip. Tomorrow we get on a plane and head for Santa Fe, New Mexico, to see -- get this -- five operas in a week. It's sort of a long story why we are even doing this. I do like opera, but this should for sure test our opera-tolerance level (and none of the five operas are even Italian!). The Santa Fe Opera, world-renowned, is having it's 50th Anniversary Gala Celebration. We're seeing Carmen, Magic Flute, Salome, I forget what else. Plus, we'll get to see Santa Fe, a reportedly fun and beautiful city. I've never been to New Mexico, so this trip will give me another state to color in in my coloring book.
Another Philip Roth moment: I've read maybe ten Philip Roth novels (maybe all of them eventually -- I'm a fan) plus two of his autobiographical works. I've just finished Sabbath's Theater, from 1995, and I have to say it's my favorite of his so far (second place: The Human Stain). Sabbath's Theater is, to me, his most ambitious book. It's also not for everybody. I think it might be his most explicitly sexual except for Portnoy's Complaint, and the main character, Mickey Sabbath, is a total sleazebag (maybe Sabbath is an aged Portnoy), but Philip Roth works magic with him. Try it if you dare.
01 August 2006. John Irving, Stephen King, and J.K. Rowling appeared at a charity reading today in New York, at which John Irving and Stephen King pleaded with J.K. Rowling not to kill off Harry Potter in the upcoming and final Harry Potter book (Apparently, Rowling has indicated that two of the series' characters will die in the last book). Rowling responded that Irving had killed off a lot more characters than she had. "When fans accuse me of sadism, which doesn't happen that often, I feel I'm toughening them up to go on and read John and Stephen's books. I think they're got to be toughened up somehow. It's a cruel literary world out there." Ah, yes it is, J.K. (Remember, I'm still scarred by Walt Garp!).
An interesting anecdote from Stephen King, who has probably killed off hundreds of human characters: he received the most letters of complaint from his readers when a character of his kicked a dog to death in Dead Zone. "I made that dog up, it was a fake dog, it was a fictional dog! But people get very, very involved."
(left to right) John Irving, J.K. Rowling, Stephen King (photo: Mike Segar/Reuters)
14 July 2006 (Bastille Day, of course). It occurred to me that the last two books that I read were both written in France quite a long time ago, and both of them were written long before they were published (at least in the U.S.). They were written within a few years of each other (maybe the authors even knew of each other), and each is either a classic or destined to be a classic. There the similarities end. The reasons for the long delay in publishing are not at all the same. The first is Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller, first published in France in 1934 but banned immediately in all English-speaking countries because it was considered to be "obscene" for its graphic sexual references and language. It was finally released in the U.S. in 1961 and was still considered scandalous (did you see the Seinfeld "library episode"?) but is now widely regarded as a remarkable classic. The other book is Suite Française by Irčne Némirovsky, a book just published here this year, first published in French in 2004. This novel was written in the early 1940s, its stories are based on the time of the German invasion and occupation of France. It is a fine novel, with some great characters. What makes it even more compelling besides its stories and its dramatic era is knowing that the author, who was Jewish, died at Auschwitz. The book was held and protected for decades by her daughters, who didn't know until recent years what a treasure they were carrying. It's a book I would recommend. Henry Miller I of course recommend too, but it depends, I guess, on your sensitivity to certain crude terminology. :-)
My next road trip starts tomorrow... I'm driving the 1200 miles from here to visit relatives in New Jersey... Even though I've driven those turnpikes many times, Jerry is a little nervous thinking of me driving that far by myself... I could have flown, of course, but this way I get to give my new GTI a good workout through the mostly boring states between Minnesota and New Jersey... But I have a box of CDs packed, I've got Sirius Radio connected, and I'm in some weird way looking forward to the 20 hours each way of driving... My sister, Joan, thinks it sounds great.. But, remember, she's the Kerouac fan.
23 June 2006. Recently, Jerry and my sister Joan and I took a leisurely two-day car trip, exploring Minnesota north of the Twin Cities. Joan is a sucker for historical or dead-celebrity sites, so we mapped out a few and headed out of here. Our first stop was the Charles Lindbergh home and museum in Little Falls. Lindbergh, of course, was the famous aviator, the first to fly the Atlantic, and maybe later a Nazi sympathizer (??.. see Philip Roth's Plot Against America). The house where he grew up is very well maintained (I played his mother's piano -- "You'll Never Walk Alone"), and the museum and tour are excellent, not even shying away from the Nazi thing or the second (and maybe third?) family that Lindbergh had in Germany. From Little Falls, we drove an hour or so to Sauk Centre, hometown of Sinclair Lewis, author of such novels as Main Street and Elmer Gantry. Main Street was actually a fictionalized and unflattering look at Sauk Centre back in the 1930s. We had lunch on "Main Street" and then visited Sinclair Lewis's boyhood home.
We drove from there several hours to Fargo, North Dakota, just far enough for Joan and I to be able to say that we had been in North Dakota (remember, we grew up in New Jersey, a whole world away from North Dakota). The one thing we did in Fargo (namesake of one of my favorite movies) was go to the Roger Maris Museum, which turned out to be in a shopping mall -- actually, in sort of a hallway of a shopping mall. Roger Maris, in case you don't know, was the baseball player who beat Babe Ruth's home run record in 1961 ("61 in '61"). Enough said about Fargo and North Dakota. We crossed back into Minnesota, stayed overnight at a casino hotel, where we all left as winners. The next day, we drove across the state to Grand Rapids, birthplace of Judy Garland. Again, another well-restored house and museum (This is the museum where the Wizard of Oz's "ruby slippers" were stolen from!). From there, back to Minneapolis. What an enormous state Minnesota is, especially for people who grew up in a tiny state like New Jersey.
High excitement, obviously... Ah! -- My big news of the past week: After nine years, I traded in my beloved red 1997 Volkswagen GTI for guess what? -- a 2006 brand new red Volkswagen GTI. Yeah, I know I'm predictable, but what a great car this is, what fun to drive. I hear another road trip calling.
02 June 2006. I've been on a used-bookstore binge recently, partly to delve back into recent decades for gems that I have missed and partly because I go through these nostalgia phases. You know that musty smell of some of those used books. Feel it, inhale it. Visualize the person who first read that book, imagine the basement where the book was boxed up for years. The downside of the visits to the used bookstores (and we have some very good ones here in the Twin Cities), beyond the fact that authors probably hate used-bookstores (no money to be made), is that I'm so easily tempted, and then the books pile up in my house waiting to be read, making me feel like I'm always "catching up". In the past couple weeks, I've read The Autobiography of Malcolm X (from 1965) and The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie by Muriel Spark (1961). Part of my musty stack, to be read this summer: Act One by Moss Hart (1959), Beloved by Toni Morrison (1987), Sabbath's Theater by Philip Roth (1995), Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller (1934 in France, not until 1961 in the U.S.).
Speaking of Toni Morrison's Beloved, you may have read that the New York Times Book Review people came up with the "Best" American novel of the last 25 years, and Beloved was the "winner". Some 100+ contemporary literati (including John Irving) did the voting. You know I'm always amused by "Best" book lists, but I pay attention nonetheless because I'm a list freak. Anyway. The runners-up in the voting: Underworld by Don DeLillo (1997); Blond Meridian by Cormac McCarthy (1985); The Rabbit Angstrom Four Novels by John Updike (Rabbit Run [1960); Rabbit Redux [1971]; Rabbit is Rich [1981]; and Rabbit at Rest [1990]); and American Pastoral by Philip Roth (1997). (I generally consider myself fairly well-read but have only read two of the above -- American Pastoral and Rabbit, Run. More pressure to "catch up"!)
And don't you wonder what book John Irving voted for?... I think I'll write and ask him!
If you get a chance, read The Autobiography of Malcolm X, a great book and one that I wish I would have read a long time ago (Joan recommended it to me, it's one of her favorite books). After I finished reading it, I watched the 1992 Spike Lee movie, Malcolm X, while the book was still fresh in my mind. The film is good, Denzell Washington is excellent as Malcolm X, but I think that if I hadn't read the book, the movie for me would have been confusing and sketchy. An interesting life, to be sure.
20 May 2006. Seven days in Seattle with no rain is almost unheard-of, most people would say. But we had amazingly beautiful weather for a week, staying in an apartment on Alki Beach in West Seattle. Just what we needed, I think. My favorite spots in Seattle: Joe Bar Coffee shop in the Capitol Hill District and the Pike Place Market downtown. I read two books while lazing next to the beach and in coffee shops during the week -- Saturday by Ian McEwan and White Teeth by Zadie Smith, both of which I enjoyed quite a lot. I wasn't a big fan of McEwan's previous two books, Atonement and Amsterdam, both of which I found to be all intellect and no emotion, but I liked Saturday better than either one of those. The book takes place all in one day, 15 February 2003, and, if you were to scroll back in my Leisurely Thoughts to that date, you'd see that that was a special day, the day the world came together to protest the coming war with Iraq. It was a day that I marched with thousands others here in Minneapolis. It was a day that perhaps two million people marched in London, and millions others marched in other cities around the world. London is where Saturday takes place, and the protests form a backdrop to what is happening with the main characters.
White Teeth is a book from 2000, a book that also takes place in London, and was Zadie Smith's first novel. She was in her early twenties at the time. It's an amazing book. I can't imagine how a person in her twenties had the street-smarts and the wisdom to write such a fine novel. I have always wanted to actually write and finish writing a novel, but I never have the follow-through to get it done. Then when I read books such as Saturday and White Teeth, it occurs to me, What the heck was I thinking? How would I ever compete with such superior talent?
That's when I remember, there are plenty of inferior novels that do just fine. Which brings me to another thought. This is the week that the movie version of The DaVinci Code premiered. Dan Brown's book has sold more than forty million copies. It's a novel that I sort of liked but not for the main story, which is pretty silly. I liked the background and the research and the questions that have made so many church leaders uneasy. Like, how did 60 Gospels become the 4 Gospels of the Bible? Who decided, and what was the criteria? Did somebody take a vote? The film version has gotten mostly terrible reviews from the critics, and so it might be painful to watch the movie. What's fun, though, is to watch the Catholics and the Evangelical leaders scramble to make sure their flocks don't take any of it too seriously (I didn't see them do the same when that awful movie, the Passion of the Christ, came out). I heard some fundamentalists on the radio discussing how "far-fetched" the Dan Brown theological conclusions are. That made me laugh out loud. What they're preaching isn't far-fetched?
30 April 2006. I hear from people who say they read this book or that book in one day, and I, being the frustratingly slow reader, hadn't ever even come close to that -- until yesterday. Of course, it helped that I had the time, and it helped that the book was only 182 pages, and it helped that the book was written by Philip Roth. It's his new book, just released a couple days ago, Everyman. The topic of this novel is similar to some of his other recent books, especially The Dying Animal: anger and despair over growing old, the sadness of aging, the frustration with bodies that ultimately let us down. As depressing as that may sound, it isn't depressing. It's fairly illuminating. It feels like life. This morning's New York Times reviewer didn't like it, but Time magazine liked it and celebrated that Philip Roth is still writing compelling novels. And I like it.
Jerry and I leave for Seattle tomorrow, back home a week from tomorrow. We have people to see, retirement parties to go to, a grandnephew to hug, but I do hope we get some time to relax and enjoy Seattle. We're staying in a rental condo on Puget Sound and are supposed to have sun for at least the first few days. This is Seattle, though, so, when it comes to weather, you keep your expectations low. Books I'm taking along (if I get a lot of reading time, which is looking semi-doubtful): Saturday by Ian McEwan, White Teeth by Zadie Smith, and The News From Paraguay by Lily Tuck.
I was going to weigh in with my opinions on this week's events in reaction to rising U.S. gasoline prices, but do I really need to? Is there anybody after this week who would ever again believe that bush isn't totally controlled by the oil companies? His short-term fix (to of course raise his short-term poll numbers): relax environmental regulations and stop putting aside oil into the Strategic Petroleum Reserve. In other words, get rid of the things that the oil companies hate, but don't impose a windfall-profits tax on the oil companies for their currently obscene profit levels. And of course never tell the American people that they should get used to higher gas prices and maybe buy more fuel-efficient vehicles (Or maybe take the bus to work?). Ah yes, the oil corporations got their money's worth out of this dude (And a war too!).
Back in a week!...
18 April 2006. I spend the first two or three days after April 15th (or, in this case, April 17th), staring blankly off into space, putting imaginary Band-Aids on my brain, remembering what planet I'm on. It's a shame that so many brain cells are destroyed by the unimportant details of our work lives.
My office overlooks the Mississippi River and the skyline of downtown Minneapolis, and it's a beautiful day and the trees are budding, and I just look across the water and for a time will ignore my work. Directly across the river from me is the new Guthrie Theater, scheduled to open in June and looking a bit like an IKEA store. The Metrodome is over there too. Baseball season has started. The Twins won two out of three over the Yankees over the weekend. Life goes on, even while some people are working fourteen-hour days.
Joan had a great time in New York. Elke and Peter are reading Until I Find You, she (for the second time) in English, he in German, then they discuss it over breakfast. Jon and Tom (my sons) are meticulously planning another trip to Ireland next month. Jerry is close to becoming a Feng Shui master.
And, as I unsuccessfully still try to ignore bush, cheney and rumsfeld, a political bright spot: We went to a rally last week featuring U.S. Senator Barack Obama of Illinois --a stirring speaker and quite possibly a future president of the United States. Keep an eye on him. Maybe all is not lost.
04 April 2006. Joan, my sister, leaves tomorrow morning for one of her solo New York theater trips. This is becoming a semi-annual thing for her, something she really looks forward to. She flies out on a Wednesday morning, sees three Broadway shows in two days, stays in a hotel near Times Square, hangs out in midtown Manhattan between shows (and where is there a better place to hang out?), then flies back to the Twin Cities on Friday. This time, she is going to see Jersey Boys, Rabbit Hole, and Three Days of Rain (starring Julia Roberts). The one I would want to see is Jersey Boys, the musical about Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. Of course I am a Jersey boy, and, predictable that I am, I've also always liked the Four Seasons.
Elke, my German guardian angel, has been doing a different kind of traveling. She and her husband Peter just got back from a sunny and warm week at a luxury resort in Turkey (Peter, by the way, is reading Bis ich dich finde [the German translation of Irving's Until I Find You]).
Jerry and I are planning a probably-not sunny week in Seattle in early May and are getting excited about just getting on a plane and going somewhere else for a while.
31 March 2006. Last night, I went to hear Kevin Phillips speak at a book-signing. His new book, American Theocracy, which I am currently reading, is an intelligent dissection, from a historical perspective, of the scary influence of the religious-right evangelical Christian movement on current American politics and the peril to the American empire from the combination of radical religion, oil dependence, and heavy debt (both governmental and personal). The effect of the religious-right on U.S. society would be a fascinating subject to me if it were in the abstract and not affecting people negatively every day with its intolerance, rigidity, and purposeful distortion. Last year, I was attempting to write a book on this subject (and I still may finish it one day) and, in the process of researching it, Jerry and I visited 25 different churches in 25 weeks -- all kinds of Protestant Christian churches, from mainline traditional churches to some of the really wacko (but politically significant) mega-churches. What we found was that the mainline churches are mostly dying and that the simple-minded, newer, mass-hysteria churches are thriving. I grew up in the evangelical/fundamentalist movement -- the first twenty years of my life -- (and, man, has it changed since then!), and one of the unintended results of that is that I know the Bible a whole lot better than the average person does. I recognize when somebody is taking something from the Bible out of context to suit his or own purposes. The Bible is a big book, and, trust me on this, by selecting various passages here and there, you can make it say whatever the heck you want it to say. I hate seeing preachers deceiving their well-meaning flocks, but people do like to be told what to think, especially if it fits into their "it's us against them" tendencies.
And there in the surrealistic haze is oil man george w. bush telling us that God told him to invade Iraq, backed up by the preachers who say the invasion is fulfilling their twisted (but convenient) interpretations of the Book of Revelation. God help us all.
I've only read a third of American Theocracy so far, but I'm already recommending it. In this currently poisonous U.S. political environment, Kevin Phillips was courageous to write it.
24 March 2006. Here's a website for you to try: mitchellrose.com. You've got to watch Mitchell's short films!... (Mitchell is currently reading The Fourth Hand, and he sent me a couple of nice emails after he reached the needahand references -- his favorite Irving novel is A Prayer for Owen Meany).. Thanks, Mitchell, for the link to your site!
(I do still get emails from people reading The Fourth Hand for the first time. Besides Mitchell's, I also got a flattering letter this week from Paula in Atlanta -- Her favorite is Garp).
I've started reading a book that was just released this week -- American Theocracy: The Perils and Politics of Radical Religion, Oil, and Borrowed Money in the 21st Century, by Kevin Phillips. You'll hear more about this book -- I notice it's already #1 on both amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com... (I, of course, bought my copy at my local independent bookseller.) :-)
18 March 2006. Sometimes my escape is into history... and sometimes history is now.
I just read a book that held my interest well -- Five Days in Philadelphia: The Amazing "We Want Willkie" 1940 Republican Convention and How It Freed F.D.R. to Save The Western World, by Charles Peters. If you have read Philip Roth's novel, The Plot Against America, you will remember that his story started with that same 1940 political convention and veered off into fiction by having the Republicans, who at that time were mostly isolationist and not yet particularly anti-Hitler, nominate aviator/anti-Semitic Charles Lindbergh as their candidate to try to unseat President Franklin Roosevelt. The point of the Roth novel was to show how close the U.S. can be to Fascist control or at least Fascist leanings (and not only in 1940). So much depends on the moment and the twists of history and the occasional crucial hero. At the actual convention, the leading candidates for the nomination were isolationist, and one of those candidates would probably have been nominated, pledging not to aid Britain against Hitler, had France not capitulated to Hitler that very same week. Most of the rest of continental western Europe was already under Nazi occupation. These setbacks in Europe set the stage for a brutal nomination process which, due to some fluky coincidences, ended with the only internationalist candidate, Wendell Willkie, being nominated. Willkie lost to Roosevelt, but, by not attacking Roosevelt in the general election on foreign policy, he helped set the stage for U.S. aid to Britain, a move that eventually stopped the Nazis. I admit that I'm way more political than I would like to be, but I enjoyed the book's behind-the-scenes maneuvering at the convention and during the 1940 election -- a very good snapshot of the time (when there were even some self-identified liberal Republicans) and a good companion piece to the Philip Roth book.
And here we are at the sobering third anniversary of the invasion and occupation of Iraq. Isolationism is so conveniently selective.
11 March 2006. More from Elke about the release of the German-language version last month of John Irving's Until I Find You (see 20 February). The novel is the #3 fiction bestseller in Germany currently and moving up. Reviews in that country have generally been positive, except for this notable one by Joachim Scholl, Deutschlandradio-Kultur, which sounds more like the American reviews last summer -- although certainly more explicit -- (translation by Elke): "In short: The first half of the book will be devoured enthusiastically, the second half is boring you more and more. There is endless psychological ranting, but it is on a Freudian kitchen level. The primary motif of the loveless father is reversed to the motif of the psychotic mother, and the cute sugar bear mutes towards a spoilt Hollywood star with a permanent erection. Reading is slowing down to a queer and kitschy family ending, which you wouldn't believe of an ironic like Irving. Until I Find You goes right into the year 2003, but you never notice. Although Jack Burns [the main character] stays in New York often, 9/11 is mentioned merely in one half sentence, while Irving's sexual obsession is constantly culminating. This has been painfully irritating already in The Fourth Hand, but now there seem to be no limits. As a reader, I had enough of all these erections at some point, to a certain extent this exceeded even to the pleasure of my own one..."
Post-Academy Award thoughts (see 03 March). Syl Jones, columnist for the Minneapolis Star Tribune newspaper, in a column titled "The Year Oscar Blinked": "2006 will forever be remembered as the year Oscar blinked. 'Crash' is artistically inferior in virtually every way to 'Capote', 'Good Night and Good Luck', and, of course, 'Brokeback Mountain.' But because that carefully crafted film made the homoeroticism of the cult of the cowboy explicit, Hollywood didn't want to go there... Long after we are gone, future audiences will wonder how such a stunning achievement could have been overlooked for the Best Picture award."
03 March 2006. An air flight and four days away from wintery Minnesota, but -- hey! -- why go where everybody else is going?.. Most Minnesota winter getaways are to Florida, Arizona, Mexico, maybe a cruise in the Caribbean. But the problem in going to, for instance, Florida is that you are surrounded by all those other people who went to Florida. If you need to really get away, go where the people aren't. So Jerry and I headed for my home turf, wintery New Jersey, and spent the long weekend at the South Jersey Shore, in a great duplex overlooking the beach and the sunrises over the ocean and no people -- maybe an occasional lone soul walking his or her dog on the beach. Quiet streets, nights that almost feel like a power outage is taking place. Mix in some reading, some gin rummy, good food, a little vodka or red wine, and what have you got? -- a brain enema! We came back refreshed with no worries about adjusting back to winter.
This week's diversion from reality is the Academy Awards show this Sunday night. I'm a film buff of sorts, and you know I always have to weigh in with my opinions (opinions, not predictions) of the Oscar nominees, so here we go. Once again this year, I've seen and I like all of the Best Picture nominees. They are mostly small, independent movies, which these days are often the only films worth seeing. I like them in this order: Brokeback Mountain, Crash, Munich, Capote, and Good Night and Good Luck. I actually was a little disappointed with Brokeback Mountain when I saw it but only because I had heard such glowing reviews from film reviewers and friends, and no film could live up to those expectations. I do think it is important for Brokeback to be voted Best Picture, first of all because it is the best picture, but also because it will be construed as some sort of "anti-gay backlash" if it loses after all the hype that it's had.
My choices for the other major categories: Best Actor: Philip Seymour Hoffman in Capote; Best Actress: Felicity Huffman in Transamerica (but you can expect Reese Witherspoon to win for Walk the Line); Best Supporting Actor: Jake Gyllenhaal in Brokeback Mountain; Best Supporting Actress: Michelle Williams in Brokeback Mountain; Best Director: Ang Lee for Brokeback Mountain.
20 February 2006. Elke, my friend in Germany, writes the following to me: "Until I Find You was released in Germany. It seems the Germans have a better feeling for the problematic nature of (overly) strong mothers and absent fathers than there is in the U.S. and Canada, maybe due to two World Wars in the last century, during which the bombs fell upon OUR country: The critics of this book (1140 pages in German translation) are good! A bit lengthy, they say, but worth it. Yesterday I saw a Northern German TV critic, Margaret von Schwarzkopf, who had to be stopped praising this book in order to leave a little time for Rushdie & Cie."
I don't agree with Elke's implication that American readers couldn't relate to the theme of the book -- I think American readers had a problem with the style and unnecessary length of it (and I have yet to hear from an American John Irving fan who liked it) -- but it's good to know that the book is being well-received in Germany. As you may or may not know, John Irving sells more books in Germany than in the United States and Canada combined.
Speaking of Salman Rushdie, I've been trying to read his newest, Shalimar the Clown, and am having trouble with it. I thought it was because I kept confusing the names of the names of the Kashmiri characters and losing track of who was who. So I put Shalimar back on the shelf and tried starting a couple other books, most recently Another Bullshit Night in Suck City by Nick Flynn, and find that Rushdie isn't the problem -- it's me. February and March and early April are my late-working, nervous-breakdown months at work, and my mind can't easily make a switch to a book, even a good book.
Jerry and I have decided to take a mid-busy-season break and get out of town next weekend. That might help settle the nerves.
08 February 2006. We sat and watched the Pittsburgh Steelers beat the Seattle Seahawks in the Super Bowl last Sunday, outwardly cheering the Seahawks but secretly loving the Steelers. The Super Bowl spectacle is getting more weird every year, and the game itself seems to figure into it less and less. Most people within a few months will have forgotten who was even in the last Super Bowl, but they will remember the Super Bowl party where they watched it (Or at least up to the point where they got too drunk to see any more).
The most bizarre part of the Super Bowl is usually the halftime show, this year featuring that most enduring and lovable rock group, the Rolling Stones. Mick Jagger still looks great at 62 (and may within a few years help redefine the concept of "old age"), but there was something surreal about watching him prancing around and singing surrounded by hundreds of young, jumping, overly enthusiastic supposed fans around the stage who were bussed in from who-knows-where for the three songs the Stones sang and then bussed out again, while the corporate goons in the stands (the only people that can afford tickets to the Super Bowl) were showing very little movement or emotion. More bizarre yet was finding out later that there was a five-second broadcasting time delay. In case the Stones did something "unacceptable", that unacceptable something could be zapped out to protect the sweet, innocent American viewers. This five-second delay was instituted a couple years ago when Janet Jackson, during the halftime show, had a "wardrobe malfunction" that exposed an almost bare breast, the sight of which apparently traumatized millions of American children. The FCC levied fines, the U.S. Congress held hearings, it was serious stuff for national politicians who I would have thought would have better things to worry about. America moral values: Bombs yes, breasts no.
So back to the Stones. Imagine you are the poor soul in charge of the five-second delay. Five seconds is not a long time. One two three four five. That's it. First, you have to listen hard to even understand every word that Mick Jagger is singing (Those lips sometimes get in the way of articulation). Then you have to decide whether a word buried in some song is going to offend some mental defective in some red state or Pat Robertson (or both simultaneously) and then push the button -- ZAP! It's gone!
And that person did ZAP two words somewhere in those three songs (and I don't know off-hand what the two words were), but, wow, think what a high-pressure job that would be, to be making those kinds of really really really important decisions in five seconds. I bet the zapper is off somewhere today having a nervous breakdown, maybe his nineteenth.
You, of course, are wondering what my five favorite Rolling Stones songs are. Here they are (in no particular order): Paint It Black, Street Fighting Man, Honky Tonk Women, Miss You, and Waiting on a Friend.
How's that?
And no more football until September.
A great new movie for you to see, although it will probably never come to a cineplex near you: Transamerica, starring Felicity Huffman, who is nominated for an Oscar for this role.
31 January 2006. Web-site doodlings instead of wasting time (and maybe losing my dinner) watching the State of the Union Address.
Joan called first thing this morning to discuss the just-announced Oscar nominations. For me, there won't be a mad February rush to see the Best Picture nominees this year because I've already seen four of the five (and will see Munich this week), maybe will see some of the acting nominee films that I haven't seen yet. And then, for further escape, back to sports, with Eric and I reveling in last night's big Timberwolves' win over the Celtics. Wally Szczerbiak got a standing ovation from the home crowd, but then the Wolves went on to win by 25 points, with the new players that came from the Szczerbiak trade leading the way, and I'm saying, Who the heck is Marcus Evans? -- one of our new guys -- oh who cares?, he's wonderful... (I can be just as fickle as the next sports fan!). And, flipping back to football, what to do about the Super Bowl next Sunday? Usually I don't like either team in the Super Bowl (except for last year when the Philadelphia Eagles somehow made it), but here this year are two teams that I like. I said at the beginning of the playoffs that I wanted Seattle (home of great coffee shops and Tom Robbins) to go all the way, but that was before I saw Pittsburgh win those three playoff games -- What an enticing team they are! How can I root against them?
And is that stupid State of the Union Address over yet, and how can anybody take his crap seriously? And how did he get his radical Supreme Court nominee confirmed? Is anybody paying attention, or is everyone buried in his or her own escape?
28 January 2006. Skinny dipping in January, you might say.
Yesterday didn't start all that great. I know I shouldn't browse the on-line news early in the morning before I've had a cup of coffee, but there was the headline anyway: Wally Szczerbiak had been traded. Now I'm supposing that most of you are saying, Who the heck is Wally Szczerbiak? He is, er was, the second-highest scorer for the basketball Minnesota Timberwolves and a crowd favorite for his on-court charisma and good looks. Jerry and I, neither of us being basketball experts but enthusiastic Wolves fans none the less (even in seasons like this when they are mediocre at best), go to almost half the Timberwolves' home games and are Wally fans. I told Jerry the news, "Hey, they traded Wally", and we both spouted off for a while. And then had the cup of coffee.
I walked over to my office and realized as I was walking what a nearly perfect January day it was. Keep in mind, we live in normally-Siberian Minneapolis, Minnesota, and, by some magical twist of global warming, we are currently experiencing the warmest January on record. What a day it would have been to not go to the office, to drive off into the sunny day somewhere, but my office at the moment is a mountain of crushing deadlines and files waiting to be opened, so skipping out was not an option. Eric, my co-worker, who really does know something about basketball, was praising the Szczerbiak trade, and we had an ongoing playful argument all day about whether a trade of such dubious merit was worth pissing off the fans. As in most sports discussions, no minds were changed. My eyes kept straying out my office window at the river and the spectacular day.
The sun went down, and the whole focus of my day changed. Jerry and I were on our way downtown to Orchestra Hall to see legendary singer Eartha Kitt perform with the Minnesota Orchestra (And if you're saying, Who the heck is Eartha Kitt?, then you need to go straight to www.earthakitt.com). First of all, let me say how wonderful it was to have an evening in Minneapolis in January where we could leave our jackets in the car, an evening where we could even be deluded into thinking that spring was just around the corner. But, that said, this concert would have warmed up any January night. We are both fans of Eartha Kitt, Jerry especially ("I Wanna Be Evil"), but had never seen her in person. This concert made the day, for us, unforgettable. Eartha Kitt at 79 can still give a killer performance and can still hold a crowd of 2,000 in the palm of her hand, and I could be talked into going to see her again tonight.
We started talking to the two British-accented ladies sitting next to us and ended up taking them with us to the bar at the Hilton Hotel next door after the concert, where we drank and talked and laughed until the bar closed at 1 a.m. Jerry, on the way home, commented, "What a lovely, lovely evening", and I of course agreed with him. I crawled into bed and read a chapter or two of the book I'm currently reading, Skinny Dip by Carl Hiaasen, a fun, light read, perfect for a night when you want to fall asleep with a smile on your face.
And, on Monday, we will have another night out on the town, when we will see the Minnesota Timberwolves play the Boston Celtics -- and the Celtics' newest player. Wally Szczerbiak.
26 January 2006. Last Friday, the 20th, I was thinking how on three years from that date, we would be inaugurating a new U.S. President... But, thinking further, maybe that won't be the case at all...Maybe bush won't last until 20 January 2009. Maybe he'll be impeached and convicted for some of his illegal acts (although here's a warning to all you ImpeachBush people: "Impeach Cheney FIRST!"), or maybe he'll resign á la Richard Nixon to avoid impeachment. Or if, at the other extreme, bush's little would-be dictatorship takes hold, he won't have to step down at all. After all, he's made it clear that he doesn't think the laws apply to him, especially if he can convince enough people that he's breaking the law for their own good... It's all so Orwellian... Convince the population that they're in a never-ending war, that anybody could be your enemy, that Big Brother is the only one who can watch out for you while He watches your every move. Kill your liberties to save them. Watch out, all you non-Stepford people.
17 January 2006. What was the best book you read in 2005?.. Some responses (not everybody could decide on just one):
-- Jerry, my other half: Hammerhead Ranch Motel by Tim Dorsey.
-- Grietje, our friend in Germany (Elke's next-door neighbor): Standing in the Rainbow by Fannie Flagg and Back When We Were Grownups by Anne Tyler.
-- Steve, in Seattle: The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini.
-- Dylan, here in the Twin Cities: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith (Dylan is searching for the most nearly flawless novel and so far has it narrowed down to A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and Crime and Punishment [Since I'm not sure what constitutes a "flaw", I can't recognize "flawless".])
-- Michael, the Poet: The Emigrants, W.G. Sebald.
-- Barb, in my book group: The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger.
-- John, in my book group: Fiction -- Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem; Non-fiction -- Collapse by Jared Diamond.
-- Tonya, in my book group: Fiction -- House of Sand and Fog by Andre Dubus III; Non-fiction -- Animals in Translation by Temple Grandin and House of bush, House of Saud by Craig Unger.
Elke, my literary soul-mate in Germany, has selected Shalimar the Clown by Salman Rushdie. On Elke's recommendation, my sister Joan bought a copy of Shalimar for me for Christmas, so I'll be reading that book soon. (You can see Elke's whole reading list here).
Joan and I both anguished over which book to pick as our favorite that we read in 2005 and both ended up picking non-fiction. Joan has selected a "celebrity bio" that I also liked very much, My Life So Far by Jane Fonda. Joan also got to chat a little with Ms. Fonda at a lecture/book signing and got autographed copies of the book for us (I would have been there also but was out of the country at the time. Jane to Joan: "Where's Howard??"). (Here's a link to Joan's whole list).
As I look over my 2005 reading list, I find it surprising that nothing jumps out at me, the fiction especially. I think I'm going through a fiction slump. The book I am picking at the best book I read in 2005 is 102 Minutes: The Untold Story of the Fight to Survive Inside the Twin Towers, which I think is an amazing book -- suspenseful, strongly researched, and moving -- written by Jim Dwyer and Kevin Flynn. I read this book shortly after its release and was quite surprised that this book didn't receive more attention than it did (Although it was one of the finalists for the non-fiction National Book Award). If I have to pick fiction favorites from my 2005 list, I will pick The Line of Beauty by Alan Hollinghurst, A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby (nothing great but fun to read anyway), and The Tin Drum by Günther Grass (which I am proud of myself for finally reading). (Here's a link to my whole reading list).
Beyond the Elke, Joan, and Howard Awards for 2005:
-- National Book Awards: Fiction -- Europe Central by William T. Vollmann (which I might read the next time I can handle a book that's more than 800 pages long); Non-fiction -- The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion (which I read and recommend).
-- Pulitzer Prize: Gilead by Marilynne Robinson (which I read and found to be pretty uninteresting. But Joan liked it.)
-- The Man Booker Prize: The Sea by John Banville (which I will read).
And did any of you see that Pittsburgh-Indianapolis playoff game on Sunday?.. It was great!
12 January 2006. Am I a "blogger"?.. A blogger is one who maintains a "web log". I've been doing these sometimes rare "Leisurely Thoughts" since September 2001. It's been my log of what I'm reading and thinking and where I'm traveling to, as well as my occasional but amazingly articulate anti-bush rantings, and somebody told me that makes me a blogger. In 2006, especially now in my theoretical "Post-Irving" Era, I'll try to be more aware of my possible blogger status and maybe post more often. I think the average blogger posts more than twice a month.. (are there blogger rules?).
I'm starting to ask various friends my January question, What was the best book you read this past year?... I'm accumulating the responses. Email me if you'd like to tell me yours.
Click here for LEISURELY THOUGHTS, December 2005 backwards to January 2005
Click here for LEISURELY THOUGHTS, December 2004 backwards to July 2004
Click here for LEISURELY THOUGHTS, June 2004 backwards to January 2004
Click here for LEISURELY THOUGHTS, December 2003 backwards to September 2003
Click here for LEISURELY THOUGHTS, August 2003 backwards to May 2003
Click here for LEISURELY THOUGHTS, April 2003 backwards to January 2003
Click here for LEISURELY THOUGHTS, December 2002 backwards to September 2002
Click here for LEISURELY THOUGHTS, August 2002 backwards to May 2002
Click here for LEISURELY THOUGHTS, April 2002 backwards to January 2002
Click here for LEISURELY THOUGHTS, December 2001 backwards to September 2001