Recently Read:The Honk and Holler Opening Soon by Billie Letts

The Honk and Holler Opening Soon by Billie Letts
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

SRP (Summer Reading Program) Why Bite: This is a well told story of an untraditional family of broken individuals that help each other heal.

I enjoyed Where the Heart Is so much that when I came across Letts’ second novel at the library, I immediately checked it out. The Honk and Holler Opening Soon has a lot of the qualities I enjoyed in her first novel. The characters are as unique and colorful as their names. Letts gives even minor characters depth and interest, and the major characters are so well developed that the reader develops a relationship with them. The story seamlessly flows from humor to tragedy, and all the emotions in between. Although Where the Heart Is had its harsh moments as it focused on Novalee’s story, Honk and Holler is far grittier as it follows the course of four main characters. The language and subject matter seems harsher, possibly due to one of the main characters and several of the minor characters are war vets. It’s primarily a love story between Caney and Vena, but also tells of Bui finding a home and Molly O finding solace.

Reading the acknowledgements, I learned that Letts did quite a bit of research to write this novel. She took great pangs to bring realistic detail to Caney being a wheelchair bound Vietnam vet, the passages in Vietnamese as well as the lengths some must go through to immigrate to this country, and the wounds inflicted on a dog, a horse and several humans. She also stays true to the time period, as the story takes place in the mid 80s, when prejudices, particularly against the Vietnamese, were still rather predominant. I must admit to wincing when I read the word “gook.” Her hard work paid off, as the realistic details really brings the reader into the story.

The story takes place in a diner that is really home to most of the characters, not just those who work there. Vena and Bui, much like Novalee, are transients who find that they too are at home at the Honk and Holler. They find a place to belong and a family to be a part of. All the characters are flawed, broken. Through the course of the novel, they help each other mend. Vena helps Caney live more fully and let go of the past. Caney helps Vena let people get close enough to care for her, and Life, a regular customer enamored with her, helps Molly O come to grips with her wanderlust daughter. By the end of the novel, nearly every strand of the story is concluded save for one. The reader is never told what becomes of Molly O’s daughter Brenda. It is hinted at that she may be pursuing her music aspirations, but Molly O doesn’t hear from her directly. Normally an unresolved subplot would bother me, but in this case it seemed appropriate given what Life had said to Molly O. It takes time, but eventually Brenda will get her act together. Letts shows Molly O able to get on with her life despite her wayward daughter’s absence. At the end of the novel, everyone is still broken, but they are all in a better place thanks to each other. Everyone is a work in progress.

While not as much of a feel good read as Letts’ first novel, her second delves deeper into human frailty. It’s a portrait of an untraditional family that finds each other and gives each other the help, love and understanding they need to heal and move on from the past. Each of the main characters finds a way to keep going, and is able to start anew. The end of the novel is really a new beginning for each of them, even the three legged dog. It will make you laugh and it will make you cry, but it will also make you consider the human condition and how fragile and uncertain we really are.


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Recently Read: Created in Darkness by Troubled Americans: The Best of McSweeney's Humor Category by Dave Eggers

Created in Darkness by Troubled Americans: The Best of McSweeney's Humor Category by Dave Eggers
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

SRP (Summer Reading Program) Why Bite: A compilation of humor pieces from McSweeney’s, some are funny, some aren’t, and some are hilarious.

My favorite alternate title for this book: Humor Is Timeless: 1998-2003.

I am not, nor will probably ever be, a dedicated reader of McSweeney’s. I do, however, have a soft spot in my heart for nearly all things San Francisco, and also happen to enjoy Dave Eggers’ writing. Being that McSweeney’s has a certain reputation and specific fan base, I was surprised to find that my local library, in a small, rural desert community that tends to be predominantly blue collar conservative, owned a copy of this book. So of course, it felt like fate and I had to check it out.

While I’m not an avid reader of even the magazine’s website, I have read pieces linked to occasionally by college friends on Facebook. I always found these bits funny, clever, witty and intelligent. While these adjectives could certainly be used to describe several pieces in this collection, unfortunately they do not describe all of them. While the humor seems to be hit or miss, even among the trademark lists found throughout the book and also in a dedicated section at the end, I feel the writers’ aim was true more often than it was way off. Many pieces were moderately funny in a silly fashion, akin to humor found in shows like “Saturday Night Live” (when they have good writing) and the late night shows that include comedy bits and skits. The lists were often as funny as Letterman’s “Top Ten,” a comedy bit which sometimes suffered from the rigid format. The lists have no such restrictions and so vary greatly in length and level of humor. Some pieces were also reminiscent of shows such as “Robot Chicken” and “Family Guy,” witty parodies invoking both academic and pop culture references. These were possibly my favorites. A few pieces were only funny if one possessed the academic knowledge necessary to understand the premise for the joke. One of these made me laugh hysterically, “Unused Audio Commentary by Howard Zinn and Noam Chomsky, Recorded Summer 2002, for The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring DVD (Platinum Series Extended Edition), Part One” by Jeff Alexander and Tom Bissell. Another one, “Upcoming Titles from Gavin Menzies, Author of 1421: The Year the Chinese Discovered America” by Paul Tullis, prompted me to google Menzies. I’d never heard of him. Once I knew who the heck the guy was, though, the piece was incredibly funny.

Overall, I enjoyed reading this book. Compilations are great books to take with you when you are running around town, as you read most of the pieces completely in a manner of minutes, though a few in this particular volume were rather long. So I read this book in short bursts waiting for my son at soccer camp, sitting pool side during his swimming lessons, in line at the post office (Or rather I would have if I had needed to go to the post office.), at the library while my son browsed the children’s section, waiting for the pot to boil while making dinner, etc. I didn’t laugh out loud as much as I wanted, so this book wasn’t perfect. But it was pretty dang close.

Some of my more favorite pieces in addition to the aforementioned and nearly two-thirds of the lists:
“On the Implausibility of the Death Star’s Trash Compactor” by J. M. Tyree (I have some counter points regarding the parasitic worm-creature.)
“I Know What You Did Two Moons Ago (The Revenge)” by Brian Kennedy
“Candle Party” by Alysia Gray Painter (I can totally see this as an SNL skit with Vanessa Bayer playing the part of the host.)
“Journal of a New COBRA Recruit” by Keith Pille (I couldn’t stop laughing at this one, but it might be a generational thing.)
“Pirate Riddles for Sophisticates” by Kevin Shay
“Goofus, Gallant, Rashomon” by Jim Stallard (Please, Seth Green, please do a “Robot Chicken based on this piece!)


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Recently Read:The World According to Mister Rogers: Important Things to Remember by Fred Rogers

The World According to Mister Rogers: Important Things to Remember by Fred Rogers
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

SRP Why Bite: Insightful.

There is not much to say about this short, little book. Fred Rogers was a smart, insightful man who said a number of wise, smart, and insightful things. I’m surprised the book isn’t longer. I enjoyed learning a little bit more about Mister Fred McFeely Rogers from the Foreward written by his wife and the short biography at the end of the book. Did you know Mr. McFeely, the postman was named after his grandfather? I didn’t. My only other comment is that I’ve never read a book of quotes before that included the person quoting other people. I found this a little odd, but since I liked the quotes (and the individuals Mister Rogers quoted) it didn’t affect my enjoyment one iota.

Quotes I liked:

“The values we care about the deepest, and the movements within society that support those values, command our love. When those things that we care about so deeply become endangered, we become enraged. And what a healthy thing that is! Without it, we would never stand up and speak out for what we believe.”

“I believe it’s a fact of life that what we have is less important than what we make out of what we have. The same holds true for families. It’s not how many people there are in a family that counts, but rather the feelings among the people who are there.”

“Little by little we human beings are confronted with situations that give us more and more clues that we aren’t perfect.”

“Love isn’t a state of perfect caring. It is an active noun like struggle. To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he or she is, right here and now.”

“Listening is where love begins: listening to ourselves and then to our neighbors.”

“When we love a person, we accept him or her exactly as is: the lovely with the unlovely, the strong along with the fearful, the true mixed in with the façade, and of course, the only way we can do it is by accepting ourselves that way.”

“The great poet Rainer Maria Rilke wrote: ‘Be patient towards all that is unsolved in your heart, and learn to love the questions themselves.’ ”

“When I was very young, most of my childhood heroes wore capes, flew through the air, or picked up buildings with one arm. They were spectacular and got a lot of attention. But as I grew, my heroes changed, so that now I can honestly say that anyone who does anything to help a child is a hero to me.”

“[W]e don’t have to understand all of someone else’s creative efforts. What’s important is that we communicate our respect for their attempts to express what’s inside themselves.”


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Recently Read: The Diaries of Adam and Eve: Translated by Mark Twain by Mark Twain

The Diaries of Adam and Eve: Translated by Mark Twain by Mark Twain
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

SRP Why Bite:

(A note of explanation: SRP = San Bernardino County Library Summer Reading Program; Why Bite = On the SRP Book Review bookmark, they ask why you would or would not recommend this book.)

Clever and witty interpretation of what life must have been like for the first couple, this book gives humorous insight into relationships and natural human curiosity.

I picked this book up on a lark at the library the day I joined the summer reading program on an impulse. I’d never heard of the diaries, much less their history. I have read the typical Twain titles required for high school courses and a college degree in English literature, but have not read much Mark Twain for pleasure. I only have a passing knowledge of Samuel Clemens, and quite honestly know more about his characterization in episodes of “Star Trek: The Next Generation.” I must say that I found The Diaries of Adam & Eve to be quite enjoyable.

In today’s climate, I imagine this relatively recently (1997) published version that combines works previously published separately during Clemens’ lifetime has met with some skepticism and resistance. In the mind of a fundamentalist Christian, I imagine this is nothing short of blasphemy. After all, it draws attention to, and certainly shines a spotlight on, the problems that arise with literal interpretations of the tale of Adam and Eve. However, I do not have such hang-ups in regards to my faith, so I rather relished this humorous treatment of what life must have been like for the first of all humans, from which we are supposedly all descended. I enjoyed the way Clemens pokes fun at some of the more silly aspects of the Biblical story. I recommend the reader take the time to read the Afterward. It provides insight into the development of The Diaries, such as the juicy tidbit that Clemens modeled Adam after himself, including the trademark laziness and penchant to “superintend” while Eve does most of the work, and based Eve on his beloved Livy shortly after her untimely death. In fact, this work is unique as it is the only time Clemens wrote from a woman’s point of view, and serves as a tribute to his wife, in a way her eulogy.

“Wheresoever she was; there was Eden.” (p. 109)

Although they had been cohabitating for quite a while, Adam and Eve did not comprehend love until after the fall. After all, it was the tree of knowledge of both good and evil. Nothing died before the fall. There was no true sorrow. Likewise, there was no true love. It wasn’t until they “lost their property” that they actually grew to need each other. Throughout the work, Clemens answers questions about their experience and relationship that it never occurred to us to ask. It provides a witty commentary on relationships and gender stereotypes in only the way Clemens can provide. Yet it is not limited to this topic. In the short passages, Clemens also beautifully illustrates with clever foolishness of error the natural curiosity of humankind and its search for knowledge. Most of this work is actually the documentation of the silly hypotheses made by the couple and the records of their “experiments.” In his unique fashion, Clemens humorously depicts the truth that all humans are essentially scientists at heart. What better way to illustrate this than by chronicling the exploits of the first two humans to walk the earth, describing their thoughts, assumptions, and discoveries as they see, hear, and touch everything for the first time. For those who hold the belief that science is incompatible with religious belief, this may also seem blasphemous.

“It is best to prove things by actual experiment. Then you know; whereas if you depend on guessing and supposing and conjecturing, you will never get educated.
Some things you can’t find out, but you will never know you can’t by guessing and supposing. No, you have to be patient and go on experimenting until you find out that you can’t find out. And it is delightful to have it that way; it makes the world so interesting. If there wasn’t anything to find out, it would be dull. Even trying to find out and not finding out is just as interesting as trying to find out and finding out, and I don’t know but more so.” (p. 48)

“At last he came, but he did not think it was a child. He meant well and was dear and lovely, but he was scientist first and man afterward – it was his nature – and he could accept nothing until it was scientifically proven.” (p. 75-6)

All in all, this was a fun, short read, full of witty insights and has a bit of fun at the expense of the age old tale of Adam and Eve. Anyone with a sense of humor and openness of mind will enjoy it.



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Recently Read: Mom & Me & Mom by Maya Angelou

Mom & Me & Mom by Maya Angelou
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

In a nutshell, this autobiography, raw with emotion, reads more like a memoir than an autobiography.

My introduction to Maya Angelou, like many others, was being assigned I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings in high school. I remember finding it incredibly moving, especially since it read like a novel. It was also my introduction to the novelized autobiography, a rare but beautifully effective genre. I probably don’t have to point out that high school was quite a while ago for me. I haven’t reread Caged Bird, though I feel like I should. My memory of the book is sketchy at best. Till now, it was the only one of Angelou’s autobiographies that I have read, although I have read much of her poetry. Having now read Mom & Me & Mom, I think I should remedy that. I have now read her first and last autobiographies. I plan to read the ones in the middle after I reread the first.

What has always struck me about Angelou, particularly in her poetry, was her strength and confidence. It seems odd that I connected with her poetry, particularly when I was a shy, quiet, reserved, white teenage girl growing up in a somewhat sheltered upbringing in the suburbs of Los Angeles. My life experience has been radically different from Angelou’s. There is very little I have in common with a woman who seemed so regal to me, having achieved such wondrous greatness, rising from disastrous tragedy and pain. I couldn’t relate to her struggles. I couldn’t possibly understand why she had to fight her whole life for things I took for granted. Yet, there I was, sitting in my college dorm room soaking up her inspiring poetry, applying her wise words to my life, my situations. Angelou has been called “America’s Poet,” and rightly so. There is universality to her words, themes and messages. Her eyes have seen more, she has lived through and survived much more than most of us will ever experience. Yet, she had a knack for expressing thoughts that we have all felt, speaking to each of us and all of us in terms we could relate to. Her poetry was about the human condition, and that is the one thing we all have in common. We are human, first and foremost.

I’m not sure what I expected when I started reading Mom & Me & Mom, but I certainly did not expect the level of insight this autobiography contains. It begins with Angelou’s birth and ends with her mom’s passing, but the events in between are not consistently written chronologically. Not even remotely resembling a novel, it reads more like a memoir than an autobiography in that it seems Angelou told stories as they occurred to her. The order was chosen for how it illustrated the point she was making at the time. As the title suggests, the primary focus is Angelou’s relationship with her mother, although she also touches on her relationships with both her brother and her son. Angelou does not hold much back. She speaks frankly about the circumstances of the episodes she chose to include. She describes situations and characteristics of people as if they were normal and average. Many events described would have made excellent plot ideas for “The Sopranos.” She included actions she wasn’t particularly proud of, and many things her mother shouldn’t have been proud of. Still, you get the impression that they were mostly actions that made her proud of her mother, and actions her mother would never feel the need to apologize for.

The overall, lasting impression this autobiography left me with was the important role that Angelou’s mother played in her becoming the strong, confident woman she was known to be. Before, I felt that such qualities must have been bestowed by her grandmother who raised her till she was thirteen, who wasn’t physically affectionate, but would proudly boast of Angelou’s attributes. In this autobiography, it is clear that her mother, Vivian Baxter, was the one who showed her, taught her, the strength necessary to succeed as a black, single mother at a time when society in general was against all those things. When she lacked the confidence to try, Angelou was supported by the faith her mother held in her. When she wasn’t sure she could do what she set out to do, her mother believed in her and propped her up till she gained the confidence to keep going on her own. Her mother made mistakes. No one is perfect. Their relationship had its troubled times. Angelou saw the flaws, but they were overshadowed by their love and appreciation for each other. The role of a mother, or at least part of it – the part Vivian Baxter did best – is to instill in your child such strength and confidence. They should grow up knowing their worth and taught to fight for themselves. They should know, as teenagers and adults, that the key to happiness is to like yourself, be proud of yourself, know your faults, your limitations, and accept help when necessary. Go out into the world, do what is necessary to get what you want, and know that you are capable. Be the person that you can proud of. Give to others with an air of gratitude for the way in which they enrich your life, and don’t give anyone the power to hurt you. Angelou’s mother taught her these lessons in a harsh way, but she wouldn’t have been the person she was, the legend we now mourn, if it wasn’t for Vivian Baxter.


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Recently Read: Oh Myyy! by George Takei

Oh Myyy! by George Takei
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

In a nutshell, this is a quick, entertaining read, somewhat informative and highly amusing and funny.

Let me start with full disclosure. I have a strange fascination with George Takei, or “Uncle George” as many of his fans now call him. I was raised on reruns of “Star Trek: TOS” and am enough of a Trekkie and sci fi junkie to use the abbreviation “TOS.” Asian faces are rare on television even today, with the exception of shows like “M*A*S*H” in which they were required. In a way, minorities already have a special spotlight, as you can’t help but notice them sprinkled amidst a sea of Caucasian cast members. Nichelle Nichols stood out in her miniskirt and go-go boots, whereas the Captain’s eye candy de jour nearly blended in with the set by comparison. So, when I, as a young girl, saw a strapping Japanese man run shirtless through the halls of a spaceship wielding a katana, it was even more striking than the numerous times Kirk went shirtless. (Side note, we should have seen Sulu shirtless much more often. He must have worked out back then.) Then, decades later, George Takei reemerges on Howard Stern with his trademark bass voice and impeccable diction. By this time, I am a mom of a biracial child and notice that there are only a few Japanese American role models for my son. Then he discovers Twitter, and the world discovers that he is a comic genius and skilled opportunist. By the time he joined Facebook, I was hooked. And then I was following.

Oh Myyy! There Goes the Internet is exactly what it claims to be. It’s not an autobiography. Pick up one of the two actual autobiographies Takei wrote if you are interested in his life and career. This book is pretty much all about how George Takei won the internet. All in all, it’s a pretty quick read, easily digested is sporadic bursts. Basically, Uncle George tells the story of his two year rise to online infamy: how and why he started tweeting, how he came to have a catch phrase (and thus the title of this book), why he does it, highlights of his activist career, milestones along the journey so far, etc. He wraps up the book with a candid explanation of how he attracted and maintains a fan base of over three (now six) million followers and what it takes to maintain his virtual empire.

This was an amusing read, and I enjoyed reliving some of the glorious moments of Takei’s initial two years of internet stardom. The book includes numerous screenshots of various posts and memes to highlight stories and crack jokes throughout the book. However, I've seen them all numerous times before. While the book was entertaining, for the most part it was all old information for me. Perhaps I would have enjoyed it more if I hadn't just witnessed it all first hand by being one of his legions of fans. It sort of felt like reading a scrapbook of an event I recently participated in. I mostly enjoyed this book for nostalgic reasons. It commemorates a cultural phenomenon I was lucky enough to be in the right place and the right time to be a part of. For that reason, I will probably always treasure this book.

I did get a bit more out of the last few chapters in the book. In those, Takei goes into more detail of how Facebook (and social media in general, really) works and how to maximize your reach and influence. He talks about what kind of posts most appeal to followers, which posts they are more likely to share, how often to post and what times of day are best, how EdgeRank works and how to work the system, the pitfalls of “promoted” posts, how he picks content and determines (or rather doesn’t determine) sourcing, etc. Clearly, it is an entrepreneurial science. I found a few key points worth taking note of, should I ever find myself trying to make a presence on the internet. Hey, you never know.

In one chapter, Uncle George discusses grammar nazis. That chapter is titled “Grammar Nazis.” This is something I am often accused of being. He mocks us lovingly, as he is one of us.
“I confess, I love English. I make every reasonable attempt to craft my public comments within the accepted confines and strictures of Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style. The irony of this endeavor is palpable, for English itself is a hopeless hodgepodge of other tongues, with more exceptions than rules, more chaos than order, and enough new words created each day to keep the Oxford English Dictionary folks very, very busy.”
Indeed, I have never read any book regarding the internet or social media so well-written. Modern technology is a catalyst for change, and our language is not immune. It is alive, ever changing and evolving, influenced by the methods people choose to communicate. The internet has made it easier for us to communicate, so we tend to do it much more often. Even more so than email, the age of social media and texting has made dialogue convenient and instantaneous. Letter writing is quickly becoming a lost art, though some of us keep trying to revive it. Before, presentation, neatness, accuracy, and clearness of meaning were the crucial elements in written communication. Now those are trumped by speed and volume. Typos and texting “shorthand” are deemed acceptable as long as you can still be understood. Later on in the book, Takei mentions how typos became so common place they became acceptable spelling alternatives, such as “pwned” and “zOMG.” Takei ends the “Grammar Nazis” chapter with these words of advice:
“So Grammar Nazis be warned: For each rule and principle you cling to with your fierce, unyielding, and yes, admirable determination, new and dynamic forces are at work that inevitably will undermine your efforts. Antecedents will dangle, prepositions will complete sentences, and infinitives will be split.
After all, it is our continuing mission ‘to boldly go where no one has gone before.’”
I guess the logical thing would be for us to let go and evolve with the rest of society. Just go with the flow. That would be the logical thing. Yes, indeed. It would be logical, perhaps not feasible, but definitely logical. Someone pat my head and soothingly whisper “There, their, they’re.”

Okay. I’m better now.

Overall, you may learn one or two things from this book, or maybe not. If you decide to pick up this book, most likely you are already a fan of George Takei and expect to be entertained. This book does that, and one thing is for sure. You will most likely laugh in amusement. And, even if you don’t get the audio version of the book, you will still hear it in his deep, trademark voice as you read.

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Recently Read: Hippie Boy: A Girl's Story by Ingrid Ricks

Hippie Boy: A Girl's Story by Ingrid Ricks
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

(This is a review of a book I read in October, 2013.)

In a nutshell, this is an amazing story and a completely engrossing read, an autobiography that reads like a novel, an intense novel.

Full disclosure, I am an incredibly distant relative of the author. I am also incredibly distantly related to nearly everyone with the surname “Ricks.” It’s a Mormon thing. I’m not Mormon but am descended from a prominent, and, shall we say, fruitful, family that was instrumental in the settling of Utah. I have never met Ingrid Ricks. If I ever get the chance, I would welcome the opportunity to tell her what an incredible book this is. I discovered this particular title during a conversation with my father regarding writers we were related to. I looked her up on Amazon, and started reading reviews. Some claimed she bashed Mormonism. That intrigued me. I put it on my wishlist, and later received it as a gift. I am not a very fast reader, but I finished this book in less than 5 days.

As I said at the start, this is an autobiography that reads an intense novel. Ingrid Ricks’ childhood was intense. Once you start this book, you have to force yourself to put it down. Stifled by a constricting religion and an abusive stepfather, Ingrid seeks to escape with her wanderlust father. Where her mother, a devout Mormon, was structured and responsible, he was carefree and irresponsible. Her mother, guided by the church elders, made decisions that she claimed were best for her children. Really she was trying to fulfill her own dream of being the dutiful wife and mother. Her father made decisions solely on what was best for him. In that way, he was much more honest, I guess. In the end, Ingrid learns to make her decisions and takes control of her own life.

I don’t want to retell her story in this review. I would rather you just read her book.

What I will say is that this is the story of a troubled teenager, searching to find her way out of the mess that is her life. It’s not, as some of the Amazon reviewers seem to think, about bashing her mother’s religion. The fact that this family is Mormon is not a crucial detail. True, it was partly due to the guidance of a bishop that her mother not only marries Earl but stays with him. The church enables Earl to torment her and her children. Still, this kind of narrative could happen, and does happen, at the hands of any religion with strict rules and regulations. This story is more universal than that, as there are many religions that dictate societal guidelines to create a unique subculture. Also, in the end, it is another bishop that helps Ingrid’s mother expel Earl from her and her children’s lives for good. The church helped create the horrible circumstances, but it also helped rectify the situation. Again, this could have been any religion.

Ingrid’s story is one of a teenager that is suffering, but no one will listen. No one can help her, not even the father she idolizes. She figures out how to help herself, to stand up for herself. By writing this book, she also found her voice. By telling her story, in her own words, Ingrid can help other teenage girls facing abuse to find the strength to help themselves. It is perhaps harder to be a teenager now than it has ever been. Every day in the news, we read about teens being abused, and not always for religious reasons. Be it abusive parents or bullies at school, each generation seems worse off than the last.

The author has used her story as an example for other teenagers to find their voices, to tell their stories. She co-founded http://weareabsolutelynotokay.org/ and works with teenagers, helping them empower themselves through personal storytelling. She and a teacher even developed a detailed lesson plan that is available for purchase. The more teenagers who find their voices, and the more who are heard through publication, perhaps the more teenagers will learn they are not alone. Perhaps the more teenagers will find strength in numbers and speak out for themselves. Maybe even a few adults as well.

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Recently Read: "Letters" by Kurt Vonnegut

Letters by Kurt Vonnegut
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

On April 11, 2007, Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. passed away. I was just beginning my second trimester, and did not yet know we were going to have a son. My husband and I had a girl’s name all picked out, but were still throwing boy names around. After the news came of Vonnegut’s death, my husband and I were discussing it over dinner. I’ve read more of his works, and was telling him why he was one of my favorite writers. My husband realized that Vonnegut spelled his first name the same as Kurt Cobain, one of his favorite musicians. That night, we knew we had found our boy’s name. Our son Kurt just celebrated his sixth birthday, which happens to fall on the anniversary of John Lennon’s birth. The kid does not lack inspiration for greatness, and I look forward to seeing what he accomplishes in life.

So, I become incredibly excited whenever a new Vonnegut book comes out, probably much more excited than my husband was at the prospect of a Nirvana reunion.

I was especially intrigued when I learned “Letters” was being published. I added it to my Amazon wish list prior to its release date, something I rarely do. Vonnegut’s books tend to have an autobiographical tinge to them, and I was anxious to have insight into his personal life via this collection of correspondence. I also read how this collection included letters to schools that banned “Slaughterhouse 5,” and correctly assume he would have put those people squarely in their place. I was not disappointed. The letter written to one  Charles McCarthy, chairman of the Drake School Board of Drake, North Dakota, on November  16, 1973 alone is worth the purchase price of the book, the hardback issue.

Especially fascinating were Vonnegut’s letters to his children, particularly the ones to his daughter Nanny after he and his wife Jane separated. These letters were particularly raw and openly honest about his state of mind, depression and the shortcomings as a father he saw in himself. He addressed all his children, including “the orphans,” the nephews he raised after the tragic deaths of his sister and brother-in-law, as adults. I noticed he tended to speak candidly to them as if they were more trusted friends than his children, often offering sage advice regarding life and career. In one letter to his daughter Nanny, he spoke quite frankly about the divorce, his relationship with Jill, and reassured her repeatedly that it was not of any doing of hers or her siblings, that he did not leave her mother for another woman, and that he still deeply cared for and valued his friendship with her mother, Jane.

In a letter dated November 2, 1972, he writes to Nanny:
“You have caught onto something I only learned in the past month or so – that terrific depressions are going to crunch me down at regular intervals, and that they have nothing to do with what is going on around me.”

In a letter dated March 17, 1974, he acknowledged the difficulties of the divorce and changing family dynamic:
“As for Jill herself: … It would help a lot, though, if you would understand that she has been very good to me during the most shattering years of my life, and that she was not the one who did the shattering. Jane didn’t do the shattering, either, and neither did money or success. The entirety of life did the shattering.”

His relationship with Nanny was particularly troubled and difficult. Vonnegut often took the blame for their lack of closeness and understanding of each other.

“It is only natural that you should feel reserved and insecure when you’re with me, since I’ve caused two huge disruptions in the continuity of the family, and since you saw so much of me when I worked at home, when I had to raise such hell in order to gain privacy in which to write.  Also, I was worried sick about money all the time, and I had no friends on Cape Cod who had any idea what my sort of work entailed.  Just to clarify the two disruptions I’m talking about, I mean the adoption of the Adams and my leaving the Cape for New York. So there we are.” (January 10, 1973)

Yet, he was capable of being hurt and at least once let her know.

“I would find such indifference to my feelings painful, even if it came from a little kid. You are chronologically a grown-up now. But you are clearly unable to imagine me as a living, interesting, sensitive, vulnerable human being. God only knows what you think I am.” (August 19, 1975)

It was these scattered letters to Nanny that I found most touching, his repeated attempts to connect with his daughter and his struggles to forge relationships with all his children, as well as his continued devotion to his first wife and love. I found it strange that even though there were many letters to his children, including the Adams boys and his first wife Jane, there are no letters at all to his second wife, Jill and the daughter they adopted together. All we know of these relationships is from references in letters to others.

The book opens with an introduction written by the editor, which reads as a fascinating, witty mini biography. The letters are organized chronologically, each decade its own chapter with an introduction also written by the editor. There were actually only a few letters regarding censorship or politics, but the few were truly treasured gems. In the chapters of letters from the 1960s and 1970s, there were quite a few letters that spoke of his time in the army and as a POW in Dresden. These were fascinating as well. The bulk of the letters were of a professional nature among industry colleagues, or updating friends and family of his latest professional endeavors. While some of this is interesting and I learned a great deal about Vonnegut’s varied body of work, after a while it became tedious. At the most, these served as the background from which the really interesting passages stood out.

The editor, Dan Wakefield, was a close friend of Vonnegut’s for most of his life. In a way this really added to the content, as he shared much detail in the introductions to each chapter and in the notes for individual letters. Through these details and Vonnegut’s own words, a picture was painted of Vonnegut as a troubled, complicated, flawed man and artist, and a loving, devoted and loyal person. As a close friend, Wakefield is able to show us Vonnegut as few others could, but he is also able to protect his friend and mentor. In the Editor’s Note, Wakefield states that he omitted passages of letters to avoid repetition and edit out private details and irrelevant or obscure references. This makes me wonder what the ellipses replace, and what secret skeletons are left in the Vonnegut closet. Perhaps it is just as well.

It is often debated whenever the private correspondence of deceased famous people is published to an international audience, whether this is an invasion of privacy. Surely, people like Vonnegut and Ed Abbey intended for their day to day correspondence to be digested by the masses. Usually these books are researched, collected and edited all with the expressed approval of family, but does the family even have that right? I have been to many museum exhibits showcasing the letters of the likes of Abraham Lincoln and Mark Twain. The only difference here is the passage of time.

In October 1995, Vonnegut’s brother Bernard asked why information about the artist was necessary to judge paintings. His response:
“Contemplating a purported work of art is a social activity. Either you have a good time or you don’t. You don’t have to say why afterwards. You don’t have to say anything. … People capable of loving some paintings or etchings or whatever can rarely do this without knowing something about the artist. Again, the situation is social rather than scientific. Any work of art is one half of a conversation between two human beings, and it helps a lot to know who is talking at you. … So I dare to suggest that no picture can attract serious attention without a human being attached to it in the viewer’s mind.” (October 11, 1995)

This can easily be applied to the pictures painted by an author, not to mention one who also happened to draw and design silk screen prints. I believe that it is possible to get quite a lot out of a piece of art as it stands alone. Some of the most moving poems in the classical canon are by “Anonymous.” I have often been incredibly moved by a painting or photograph before knowing anything about the artist. However, you can only get so far before your mind starts to subconsciously fill in the gaps of missing information. After a while, you start imagining a fantasy of the artist, your own personal version, necessary to continue the conversation initiated by the piece of art. This is inevitable unless you learn more about the author or artist, which is why people publish biographies and autobiographies. Publishing correspondence is simply an extension of that, as it gives us added insight of authors who have passed away. After all, if we continued to keep things private after the person passed away, we wouldn’t have been able to read any poems by Emily Dickinson.

Overall, this collection of letters was not what I was expecting. I expected more pearls of wisdom and less snippets of a normal, humdrum life. It was still an interesting read, giving both insights into the life of the author and also life in general throughout the decades. Vonnegut’s letters were mostly void of the creative tone that encompass his novels, though his quintessential cynicism and wit is prevalent all the way to the letters written shortly before his death. Despite not having an overly happy and satisfying life, Vonnegut continued to be productive till the end, accomplishing much in both his personal and professional life. I hope, when he closed his eyes for the last time in early April 2007, he was able to find the peace that comes with great accomplishment.


View all my reviews

Puzzle Pieces

Spent most of my life making homes of places
with pictures and drapes
Easy up
Easy down
Covering up white walls and white blinds
with a collection growing over the years
Each new place varying only by layout and floorplan
Different sight lines
but same drapes
same pictures
As easily removed and packed up
as I was

Now I look around our first home
our own house
six months after the last move
All those things are still packed away
out in the garage
Books still in boxes
Shelves in pieces propped in a corner
White blinds and walls begging for a fresh coat of paint
stark against furniture haphazardly arranged around the TV
Nearly all color restricted to toys, crayons and books
littering tables and empty shelves
And the half-finished puzzle
our son has left on the coffee table

Out of Her Element

I know, I know. I haven't posted anything new in a really long time. I have many excuses, but I won't bore you with that. I have been very bad. I have been very neglectful. I have not been writing like I promised myself and I feel just awful about it.

We recently moved ... again. I'm still in the process of establishing a decent work area for myself. It will take a while to get settled in the new place, so it could be quite some time in between blog posts. I apologize in advance to any followers I may still have. I'm sorry. Truly. I have promised myself to do better.

Enough of that ...

I was just going through a random bag and came across a folded piece of paper towel. On it was a poem I had scribbled on it way back in 2009. We had recently moved in with my in laws to share expenses, which meant leaving the urban sprawl of Los Angeles for rural living in the Morongo Basin. I not only had to adjust to new surroundings, but also to sharing a household with my mother-in-law. I don't really remember writing this poem. That happens sometimes. I find a random slip of paper or a napkin and, though I can recall the feeling or sentiment, I have no recollection whatsoever of putting pen to paper.

And, for the record, I can not imagine ever moving back to LA.

Out of Her Element

As the laundry blows softly in the intermittent breeze,

the laundress, reluctant to the concept,

having dwelt in the city her whole life,

where there’s little room for impractical clothes lines,

finds herself hanging sheets as a compromise.

To her surprise, the sound of the occasional billowing

and watching her little boy run in between the sheets giggling

soothes her uneasiness.

And she hums softly to herself

as she thinks of how the desert in July

is very much like her old Whirlpool dryer.

(written 7/2/2009)

Peace on earth, good will toward men ... please?

“I'm inviting all my Facebook family and friends to join me in returning to the traditional greeting of "Merry Christmas" instead of the politically correct "Happy Holidays". If you agree with me, please re-post this message or hit like. Merry Christmas!”

I’ve been seeing this status all over Facebook since early November, and every time I groan a little. I am irked by the so-called “war on Christmas” for a very simple reason. If there was a war, Christmas won, hands down. Starting well before Halloween, Christmas is everywhere, from stores to television. There is no possible way to escape being exposed to Christmas in some fashion, regardless if you actually celebrate the holiday. It has not only overshadowed all other holidays celebrated in the month of December, it has taken over Thanksgiving a full month beforehand. In fact, it seems to have stretched out its tentacles to ensnare Halloween as well. What aspect of Christmas has such power? It’s the commercialization and subsequent greed, of course. My young son says “I want to buy that!” after nearly every commercial that airs during his favorite TV shows. Well before Halloween, we are bombarded with ads: Get a jump on the holidays. Do your Christmas shopping now and use our layaway plan. Now the entire month of November is simply a build-up, not to Thanksgiving, but to Black Friday and Cyber Monday (or rather Cyber Week as it has evidently become). Thanksgiving itself, which used to be a strong, proud day of celebrating not only our American strength and persistence but also expressing gratitude for the people and blessings in our lives, has become as battered and starved as those first pilgrims. Instead of a day of good food, family/friend togetherness and football, many choose to sit outside a store and wait for the doors to open so they can mace each other over the 4 xboxes in stock. But I digress. My point, wherever it has gone to, is that for two to three months, this country is all about Christmas.

So why do people claim that war has been declared against Christmas? Because, even though the term Christmas itself is used just as frequently, some people choose to use other terms interchangeably. But let me go off on a tangent before I address that.

I’m converting to Catholicism, and so I’m attending an RCIA class (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults). The first day, I was given a book, Believing in Jesus by Leonard Foley, O.F.M. It was approved, like all authoritative books on the Catholic faith, by the Vatican. In the very first chapter, I noticed that the author and editors chose to use BCE/CE to designate dates rather than BC/AD. This dating system, which stands for “Before Common Era/Common Era, was of course created as an nonreligious alternative to the long used “Before Christ”/”Anno Domini.” A third, less popular alternative I came across recently was to do away with letter designations altogether and simply use a + or – sign. So, 500 BC(BCE) becomes -500, and 1492 AD(BC) becomes +1492. As with most academics, the goal is less about politics and religion than it is about simply making it universally understood. I don’t wish to debate why one is better or worse than the other. In truth, it is merely a choice. A writer would be correct in using one or the other, although some fields or disciplines may prefer one to the other. Papers published in scientific journals, for instance, usually use BCE/BC. When reading books written by and for Christians, I have almost exclusively seen BC/AD. That’s what struck me as so remarkable about Believing in Jesus.

Why did the use of BCE/BC strike me as remarkable? Well, here was this book on the first Christian religion, willingly using terms specifically designed to replace Christ. I made the comment in my class that it impressed me that they didn’t make a fuss, like the Protestants did, who “see the switch to CE and BCE as just one more example of secularism and non-Christian religions being given precedence over Christianity.”  I expressed my observation that the Catholic Church does not appear to be threatened and chooses not to pick a fight over such a small thing. One of the teachers responded, “Well, of course the Church isn’t threatened! It’s been around for centuries. It isn’t going anywhere.” Of course, even the Protestants have made less a stink about date designations than on saying “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas.” Honestly, I think they might have picked the wrong battle.

Waronchristmas.com states: “‘Christmas’ became a dirty word, and was replaced by ‘holiday.’ The War on Christmas had begun.” The author of this site claims that “‘Christmas’ was everywhere during the month of December,” but not anymore. The funny thing is, I see Christmas everywhere, starting in October. I see trees, wreaths, Santas, etc. all over the stores. I see the word Christmas everywhere too, as well as the more generic word “holiday.” In fact, I’d wager that I see more words related to Christmas, (Santa, St. Nick, Rudolf, Reindeer, stocking, Nativity, etc.) than I do any other holiday celebrated in November and December. Yet, people still raise heck when a store chooses to use “Happy Holidays” in their advertising. I think the best response to the outrage was expressed by Best Buy, “We recognize that several holidays are celebrated during the months of November and December. Many people exchange gifts in celebration of one or more of these holidays. In order to be respectful of all our customers (and employees) who celebrate different holidays throughout the season, we are choosing to use ‘Happy Holidays’ as the primary greeting in our holiday campaign.” And that is, really, what it boils down to. Of course, this response is dismissed with the charge of being “politically correct,” which is evidently a bad thing.

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary (my new favorite website), “politically correct” first came to its current use in 1970. “[T]here is no doubt that political correctness refers to the political movement and phenomenon, which began in the USA, with the aim to enforce a set of ideologies and views on gender, race and other minorities. Political correctness refers to language and ideas that may cause offence to some identity groups like women and aims at giving preferential treatment to members of those social groups in schools and universities. [Thuy Nguyen, "Political Correctness in the English Language,"2007]” I do not believe using the term “Happy Holidays” falls into the category of political correctness. Its purpose is not to avoid offending non-Christians, but to simply not leave them out and respect the diversity in our society. Christmas is not the only holiday in the last two months of the year. And, I might point out, prior to the 1970s, the phrase was commonly used interchangeably with “Merry Christmas,” as was the seldom contested “Season’s Greetings.” It was a common way to wish someone not only an enjoyable Christmas, but also a handful of other holy days leading up to Jesus’ big day as well as New Year’s Day. ,I say “Happy Holidays” for two reasons: it’s all encompassing and it’s polite. I was raised to be respectful of others. It’s what Jesus would do.

This is not to say that the secularism of Christmas is not real. No one is denying that is an ongoing phenomenon. More than any other Christian holy day, with the exception of Halloween, Christmas has been infused with secular symbols and traditions, some dating back to the pagans. This is not a new development, however. The pagan practice of bringing an evergreen indoors dates back to a pagan tradition, and December 25^th might have very well been chosen due to it’s proximity to the Winter Solstice as a ploy to convert pagans. Our notion of Santa Claus seems to have been adopted from the Dutch legends of St. Nicholas, a Catholic bishop. In the Dutch legend, Sinterklaas traveled around and rewarded all the good children while his traveling companion Black Pete (an evil spirit/devil) punished the bad children. Somewhere along the line, we lost Black Pete due to his racist depiction of Moors. (For more info, please see links below.) Early settlers in Massachusetts actually banned Christmas for a spell claiming the celebrations went against the Bible. So yes, atheists and agnostics can celebrate a secular Christmas. There is a growing trend, however, of such individuals adopting a celebration of Winter Solstice, previously observed mainly by pagans and Wiccans, instead, but many of the same traditions adopted by Christians over the centuries (such as the tree, Yule log, gift giving, mistletoe, holiday cards, etc.) are still practiced.

One argument thrown at me recently was “There would be no ‘holiday season’ if it wasn’t for Christmas.” This promotes the notion that there is only one worthwhile holiday to acknowledge in December, Christmas. According to ReligiousTolerance.org, there are three main groups in the conflict of the winter holidays. Some Christians feel that “Happy Holidays” is too generic and that Christmas is exclusively the only holiday to be acknowledged in December. Non-Christians object to having their religious observances ignored, and a third group of people who don’t celebrate anything and resent being exposed to such intense religious “propaganda.” I would like to add a fourth group: Christians who celebrate Christmas but who feel that the Christian thing to do is respect all the other beliefs and non-beliefs that make our diverse society so interesting. I’m obviously including myself in this group. In the true spirit of Christmas, I extend well wishes to everyone this time of year. I respect their choices and beliefs, though they differ from mine, and acknowledge that Christmas isn’t the only game in town.

And what is so wrong with “holiday” anyway? According to OED, holiday is derived from “holy day.” Its earliest usage was referring to a religious festival or day of recreation. In the 1500s, those were one in the same. So if you feel it is a snub against religion, think again. When you wish someone “Happy Holidays,” you are wishing them a joyous celebration of whichever holy day they observe. I, for one, think that is a beautiful sentiment. And I am not alone in my opinion of the greeting. In a 2009 article published on The History News Network website, Edward T. O'Donnell, an associate professor of history at The College of the Holy Cross in Worcester, MA, praised the use of the phrase. “I must admit that the expression Happy Holidays once struck me as vapid and meaningless—essentially the December version of the all-time vapid and meaningless phrase of modern times, ‘Have a nice day.’ But all this War on Christmas hysteria in recent years has led me to a new and heartfelt appreciation for the expression, for I see that it embodies both a fundamental American value and, strange as it may sound, one of Christmas’s core religious ideals.” O’Donnell, a church going Christian, points out the particularly American virtue of “respect for each and every citizen’s right to their own religious beliefs (or non-beliefs).” He then goes on to state something I hadn’t previously considered. “The ‘Merry Christmas, or Else’ zealots are not preaching violence, but they are promoting a dangerous, unwelcome, and ultimately un-American form of religious intolerance. … Put simply, the charge that individuals and retailers who fail to say Merry Christmas is itself a very real assault on Christmas. After all, the holiday celebrates the birth of Jesus, an event the Bible tells us was hailed by a choir of angels singing, “Peace on Earth and goodwill toward men.” Raging against the inclusive, tolerant and ultimately harmless phrase, Happy Holidays, runs directly counter to this theme. Indeed, it’s like making war on Christmas.”

And here I just thought it was pointless and annoying.

Did “Happy Holidays” and “Season’s Greetings” come into use for the sole purpose of replacing “Merry Christmas”? Evidently not. It seems these phrases have been in use for quite some time, and were often used in conjunction with, not necessarily instead of, “Merry Christmas.” All this can be evidenced by these advertisements in the Los Angeles Times dating back to the late 1800s. According to Wikipedia, “Commercial use of the term ‘Happy Holidays’ to replace ‘Merry Christmas’ and ‘Happy New Year’ dates back at least to the 1970s. Use of the term may have originated with the Irving Berlin song ‘Happy Holidays’ (released in 1942 and included in the film Holiday Inn).” The same article mentions the term inexplicably less offensive to Christmas revelers, “Season Greetings.” "‘Season's Greetings’ is a greeting more commonly used as a motto on winter season greeting cards, and in commercial advertisements, than as a spoken phrase. In addition to ‘Merry Christmas,’ Victorian Christmas cards bore a variety of salutations, including ‘Compliments of the Season’ and ‘Christmas Greetings.’ By the late 19th century, ‘With the Season's Greetings’ or simply ‘The Season's Greetings’ began appearing. By the 1920s it had been shortened to ‘Season's Greetings, and has been a greeting card fixture ever since.” True, there was a movement in the 1970s and 1980s to make things less offensive to minority groups who did not celebrate Christmas. Stores and government agencies were, and occasionally still are, called upon to include other holidays alongside Christmas. Some were picketed and boycotted. But the tides have turned. Now stores are boycotted and chastised for being too inclusive.

In an article written for Time Magazine in 2008 (and a repeat in 2009), Alex Altman addressed the “war on Christmas” with striking clarity. He points out that it was the Puritans who first sought to shut down Christmas. They actually banned it in Massachusetts from 1659 to 1681. Henry Ford accused the Jews of opposing Christmas. In the 1950s, the destruction of American Christmas tradition was evidently on the to-do list of the evil communists. The modern connotation of this “war” did not, however, originate on Fox News as I had initially thought. “Before it became part of mainstream conservative punditry, the leading proponent of the War on Christmas was a former magazine writer and editor named Peter Brimelow.” But it did logically wind up there, as it claims Christmas is being attacked by us nasty liberals. “Outrage over alleged restrictions against Christmas emblems imposed by stores like Wal-Mart and Sears led conservative mouthpieces like Sean Hannity and O'Reilly to take up the cause in earnest.” Altman concludes that the “war on Christmas” is a “backlash against a wave of political correctness that swept the U.S. in the late '90s, resulting in some strange new concessions to cultural sensitivity: cities insisting on calling the telltale conifers ‘holiday trees,’ efforts to ban the pleasantry ‘Merry Christmas’ and crackdowns on the use of holiday nativity scenes and other religious iconography. But to many, the War on Christmas is a hyperbolic construct that blows the problem out of proportion.” I strongly agree with that last sentence, and applaud the use of the word “hyperbolic.”

Indeed, it is blown out of proportion, but only on one side. This might have started with concessions to cultural sensitivity, but the opposing side in this “war” seems strangely quiet in 2011. There are many retail businesses that freely use “Merry Christmas” in signage and advertising, and no one seems to be in a mind to complain. However, every episode of “The O’Reilly Factor” in December features a segment on the “war on Christmas,” giving 15 minutes to individuals in a mall offended by a store’s “holiday tree.” There is a website solely devoted to pointing out the “anti-Christmas” stores so that followers of the doctrine know not to shop there. According to the American Family Association, stores are either “for,” “marginal” or “against” Christmas. The criteria for these classifications are incredibly bias, and does not allow for any respect of or goodwill toward others. “The ‘Merry Christmas, or Else’ zealots” are a determined lot, and they are organized to the point of over-kill.

I’ve been often chastised for using Xmas as shorthand for Christmas. A modern interpretation is that “xmas” replaces Christ with the x variable. But really, this abbreviation has nothing to do with algebra. Turning to my good friend the OED once more, Xmas is derived from “X'temmas, wherein the X is an abbreviation for Christ in Christmas, from first letter of Gk. Christos “‘Christ.’" This abbreviation was actually in common use by the 15^th Century, as Gutenberg’s printing press was less time consuming if one employed abbreviations.  As Snopes states, “it’s a very old artifact of a very different language,” but allows that some might still be offended by it. It can be used erroneously by those who either don’t know or care of its origin in attempts to secularize or “cross out” Christ to insult Christians. But knowing the truth behind the term turns the tables. The joke is on them.

Here’s another nibble of food for thought. If there is such a demand for keeping “Christ” in Christmas, why not take it one step further. Christmas is, after all, a combination of “Christ” and “mass.” So why not put “mass” back in to? There’s room in my RCIA class.

To quote John Lennon, “War is over, if you want it.” Do you really want to spend the entire month angrily countering a store clerk’s well intentioned “Happy Holidays” with an embittered “Merry Christmas”? Are you really going to shove all the cards that say “Season’s Greetings” in a drawer while proudly displaying the one’s wishing you a “Merry Christmas.” Wouldn’t you be happier and more at peace if you just accepted these greetings for what they are, warmest wishes for whichever holiday you happen to celebrate? Christmas is a time of hope, peace, love and goodwill. As the old Sunday school song goes, “They will know we are Christians by our love.” Does it really matter if Kohl’s and Macy’s have Christmas decorations or holiday decorations if you have your nativity scene proudly displayed in your living room? Does it really affect your faith if we acknowledge other beliefs and traditions? Does it really ruin your traditions and celebrations if someone else brings an evergreen inside and incorporates it into their festivities, calling it a Yule tree, holiday tree or Hanukkah bush? Answer these questions truthfully.

Most of the people I know celebrate Christmas, though quite a few disregard the religious aspects. I know a few Jews, Wiccans, atheists and agnostics who don’t celebrate Christmas but acknowledge its existence. They aren’t offended by you wishing them a “Merry Christmas,” but are simply asking for reciprocal respect. All anyone asks is that the “Christmas people” (as my Jewish cousin called them) acknowledge their holidays, whether it is Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule, Winter Solstice, or even the generic cultural Christmas holiday. You don’t have to celebrate them, just admit that they exist and deserve to be acknowledged right along with Christmas. What’s so hard about that?

And if you happen to celebrate Festivus, consider this my "airing of grievances.”

Update (12/12/2011): My son was watching "Sid the Science Kid" this morning before school. It's one of his favorite shows, and one of mine as well. I knew it was incredibly educational, but I had no idea how open-minded it was. Evidently, Sid and his family celebrate three holidays in their house! Wow! My husband said that Sid must be really spoiled. I guess there's no "War on Christmas" in that house! View a clip here.

Further reading of the like-minded:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/11/28/war-on-christmas-walgreens_n_1116921.html

http://reason.com/archives/2004/12/28/what-happy-holidays

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/charity-sunshine-tillemann-dick/war-on-christmas_b_1100413.html

“The Origin of Xmas”:

http://www.crivoice.org/symbols/xmasorigin.html

Regarding Santa Claus:

http://www.the-north-pole.com/history/

http://www.religioustolerance.org/santa1.htm

http://www.arthuriana.co.uk/xmas/

http://www.stnicholascenter.org/pages/origin-of-santa/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Claus

Regarding Christmas/Yule/Holiday trees:

http://www.christmas-tree.com/where.html

Visit Santa Claus and drop him an email:

www.northpole.com

Life Lesson # 18

In this age of information overload, it is way too easy to believe that we are privileged to all the information available. We think we know everything about a proposed law or bill, a celebrity, a high profile court case, an organization, a sporting event or television competition, etc. In reality, we only know the amount of information that we are allowed to know. We only have the information we are given, and are not the ones in control of its distribution. It completely conceivable that we are less knowledgeable of world affairs than we were prior to the invention of the internet, cable television, computers, laptops, smart phones and tablets. We are not necessarily in possession of more truth, just because we are given more information. More often than not, that information is incomplete, misrepresented, or downright false. In other words, the distribution of propaganda has never been so efficient.

Five-Seven-Five is Sublime

I have been inspired of late to write in haiku. For the few who don't know, a haiku is a type of Japanese poem written in three lines of seventeen syllables. The first line has five syllables, the second seven, and the third five. There are many beautiful haiku written in Japanese. Unfortunately for us, the structure does not translate into English. The greatest haiku, though extreme in brevity, have beautiful imagery. Often the last line has a punch to it, making the reader's head spin. The last line is supposed to make you think.

I like playing with the structure of haiku, in English of course. As someone who tends to be overly verbose in her writing, the limiting nature of haiku makes for a good exercise in saying more with less. I've gotten fairly good at it, except for the last line being the grand finish it is intended to be. I am seldom very good at that. Often times, I end up with a bunch of haiku on the same subject, none of them good enough to stand on their own. However, I don't like to be wasteful, so I sometimes "recycle" these short, inadequate poems into one longer one. The individual haiku become stanzas in a poem that I think is stronger and more expressive of my intent. That is what I ended up doing recently with a series of haiku.

I am sharing three poems with you. The first you will find at the end of this post. It is an example of a haiku that lacks that special punch. But it still has some charm, and so I decided to share it. The second is a longer poem, a series of haiku, concerning a subject that is often on my mind. The illustration is from the National Gallery of Art website: http://www.nga.gov/home.htm. It happens to be one of my favorite depictions of the Crucifixion. It was supposedly painted for the private devotions and prayers of a Dominican nun.  The third is another single haiku and a little better than the first. It was inspired by my in-laws' recent landscaping project. It has a little bit more zing to it. The illustrations are indeed the before and after photographs of the landscaping project in question.

Here is a haiku to start the ball rolling.

Opportunity

All my energy
Drained in monthly bloodletting.
Knock on door ignored.

My God was hijacked - a series of haikus

The Crucifixion by Andrea di Bartolo

Ruled by pharisees
No room for differing thoughts
Smothered by Bibles

Love, grace and beauty
Seen in a child's smile
Betrayed by man's hate

God is merciful
What would Jesus do, you ask?
Love and accept all

Instead what is done
In His name will surely bring
The Apocolypse

Bring in the horsemen
Brand us all with 666
What right do we have?

Judge not lest you be.
No one's white robe is spotless
Still the gavel falls

I no longer hide,
But reclaim the Truth I know
We aren't all like that!

The Truth corrupted
Into grotesque monster created
In man's own image

Disfigured mutant -
Religion used as weapon
For power and greed

Misrepresented -
So much evil in disguise -
Christianity

My God was hijacked
By modern day pharisees
Crucified again.

Life Lesson # 15

Freedom of Speech: a person has the right to say anything no matter how stupid, hurtful or wildly inappropriate, and everyone else has the right to call them on it.

Nothing one says or does is without consequence.

Life Lesson # 13

A person's legacy is not just the body of work she produced, but also the choices she made in her personal life.

Life Lesson #12

There is a distinct difference between criticism and complaint. However they are often mistaken for each other.

Life Lesson #11

Freedom of speech does not mean freedom from responsibility. Nor does it include a pardon from the consequences of what you say or do.

Simple Girl

Simple girl
With simple tastes – that’s me
Simple meals that satisfy
– steak and potatoes –
Really that’s all I need
Inexpensive pleasures make my day
Mid-day hike thrills more than any ballet
And I prefer mutts to pedigree

A bottle of Merlot tastes the same to me
Whether two buck or forty-five
And I rather drink it chilled – no jive
Just as happy with a Hershey bar
As with imported Belgium truffles
Never needed clothes to impress
Or cared if the crowd laughed at my ride
Wouldn’t mind living clear and free

Past where the sidewalk ends
where the neighbor’s junky yard doesn’t matter
Miles away from the nearest gravy train
And the dirt road washes out in the rain
As long as the house and land are ours
The food tastes good
The heat works in winter
And you’re there too – next to me

Simple girl – that’s me

Life Lesson #10

Bias is in the eye of the beholder.