Books

Books.  Books are keeping me from having a real life.  Or maybe books are real life.  Either way, I like to read.  I mean, I really like to read.  I never, repeat, never, go anywhere without a book.  Oh, you may see me in a friend's house without a book in my hand, but you can bet it's out in the car.  Even if we go to get an ice cream cone, I take a book.  It is my security blanket.

Sometime I think my reading so much keeps me from thinking about things -- things such as the state of education in our country, ditto for health insurance, politics, the economy, religion, just about anything that is disturbing.  In other words, reading is my panacea; it keeps me sane.

What started me on this track was one of the funniest books I have ever read -- A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole.  I just finished rereading it, and I very seldom read a book twice.  For thirty years, I have been telling anyone who asks what my favorite book is, about this one.  I decided I should read it again to see if I think it is still as good as it was way back when.  It is.  The story takes place in New Orleans sometime in the 1960s, but I couldn't help but notice how relevant some of the themes were for today.

The main character is Ignatius O'Reilly, a 30ish boy/man who still lives with his mother.  His jottings on everything are one day going to let the world see what a brilliant mind lives in his bloated body.  For now, though, he must get a job to help pay some debts, even though he is sure his mother could do something so that he would not have to lower himself to work.

That's as much as I'm going to say here about Ignatius.  He is a brilliant, ignorant, arrogant egotist, who discovers life in New Orleans.  The author, John Kennedy Toole, never wrote another book.  Soon after he finished this one, he committed suicide.

Anniversary

Nine years ago today, the Twin Towers in New York City were attacked by terrorists.  How much hatred and so-called retribution has been generated since then.  How can people hate others so much that they would attack buildings full of humans?  Why can't we, or they, live our lives allowing and respecting each other's beliefs.  Why do we hate them, and they us, for these beliefs?  Or maybe they don't really hate us for our beliefs; but are just using that as an excuse.  Maybe they hate us for what we have.  Is that what we're all afraid of?

Now even this country is lowering itself to the standards (if malevolence can be called a standard) of others, spawning groups that hate those who are somehow different.  We are told to hate the Muslims, the Mexicans; the blacks and the gays.  Americans are the most ethnically diverse people on earth, but we still seem to hate those who are perceived as unlike us.  Most Americans call themselves Christians.  Wouldn't Christ, who welcomed everyone, be proud.

Dad

It's finally time.  After two decades of trying to accept my father's death, I think I can do it.  I believe my sisters and I have idolized our father too much.  We have compared him with Mom, and he always seems to have been the perfect, caring parent.  But if I am honest with myself, I can see that he had faults and was maybe not as perfect as I would like to believe.  I'm sure you noticed that I said maybe.

Dad was very good at aggravating Mom.  He knew just what to say to get her going, and would say it at least once every day.  She would always fall for it, and get mad at him.  Dad would just smile and, if one of us were in the area, give us a wink.  He knew exactly what he was doing and he was enjoying it, while Mom was working up to getting madder at him.

In the past, I've looked at Dad's behavior as somehow my mother's fault.  She was too demanding; she ran his life; they always had to do what she wanted.  He seemed to be just going along.  Now I wonder if that's at all true.  Maybe Mom had to take charge, or her life would have been much emptier.  Maybe if she didn't make plans, no plans were ever made.

Today I wonder at the dynamics between my parents, and the impression they had on me.  Both my sisters and I have grown to adulthood thinking that Mom was the bad guy and Dad was the good.  The truth is probably not nearly so black and white.  As I go through the rest of my life, I will try to remember that both my parents were only human after all.

Sounding Off, Again

As if it weren't enough that we are fighting an unwinnable war in Afghanistan, now we are virtually declaring war on Muslims in this country.  All they are trying to do is to build a mosque in NYC.  It is not on ground zero, as claimed, but on the spot once occupied by a Burlington Factory coat store.  And it is not even a mosque, but a cultural center.  And why is there no indignation that Muslims are praying at the Pentagon, which was also attacked on 9/11?

There should never have been such a discussion as this.  Some kind of memorial to the many world citizens who lost their lives in the World Trade Center attack should have been dedicated years ago.  It is shame on someone that this has not happened.  This is what the outcry should be about.

My church, in the little town where I grew up, has a cultural center.  It is called Luther Center.  No one, as far as I know, even blinked an eye when it was built as a gathering place and education center for the Lutherans.  Probably everyone in the town, and then some, has been inside that cultural center -- to play basketball, shop at a holiday bazaar or bake sale, or any number of other events that take place there.  I bring this up to remind us that cultural centers are not places of evil.

Frank Rich, an Op-Ed columnist for the New York Times, makes a case that the virulent opposition to a mosque on this site in NYC will only hurt our chances of getting the citizens of Afghanistan to see that we are right in our fight against terrorism in their country.  Of course, he's right.

And what about this thing called the United States Constitution?  Doesn't the First Amendment guarantee something called freedom of religion?

Marcia Ball at the Beachland

If you ever get a chance to see Marcia Ball live in concert, go.  She plays the piano with such fun and authority, all while bouncing her knee, singing, and working her back up players.  We were lucky enough to see Ms. Ball and her band at the Beachland Ballroom in the Collinwood area of Cleveland on Thursday, and it was wonderful.  I don't think she stopped playing for longer than 30 seconds, and she performed for two hours.  The musicians behind her are excellent, proving that to be the best you have to surround yourself with the best.  All four members of her group seemed to be having a great time, as did Marcia herself.

This was the second time in as many years that we were in attendance ("attendance" is definitely the right word) to see her perform.  Her music is a blend of blues, rock, and cajon, as near as I can tell.  Listening to her latest album, "Peace. Love and BBQ," it is easy to see why she has been nominated four times for an Emmy, but hard to understand shy she hasn't won.

As you can see, I am putting a link on this site to Marcia Ball's blog, Ball Bearings.  I hope you check it out.

Book of conversations between Andrew Young and his godson

I have just finished reading the book Walk in my Shoes: Conversations Between a Civil Right Legend and His Godson on the Journey Ahead by Andrew Young and Kabir Sehgal.  It was very easy to read, but deceptively hard to understand.  One piece of advice that Mr. Young repeatedly gives to his godson is to be a contrarian.  Also, that you can always learn something from anyone, even if you disagree with him.  I am going to try to keep these two thoughts in mind.

Facebook

To all my Facebook friends, I apologize.  It is absolutely necessary that I close my Facebook account.  You see, I spend too much time just reading all the posts everyone puts up; even spending time only once a week, it takes at least two or three hours to catch up with everyone.  This is time that I have decided could be better spent elsewhere.

This is in no way a criticism of those who use and love Facebook.  It is simply a comment, and a sad one at that, on my inability to stay focused on one task -- my writing.  When I sit at the computer, I find myself doing everything else except what I should be doing.  I surf, I email, I look at my Facebook page, and I shop.  But I need to write, so I am trying to cut out these other distractions.  Believe me, it is a hard thing to do.

I don't want to lose touch with everyone, or anyone, again; but I think you all have my email address, or can get it or my phone number easily.  Please stay in touch.