Archived Messages
from the Writer's Notebook
May 25, 2002 to
July 10, 2002
Pipe down, Ben! Mark's right! I only used all those thees and thous 'cause
the queen dug 'em! I'm into goth now, dude! Chill!
Will S. 7-10-2002 0:56
Hah!
'Tis brash and bold indeed, my upstart friend,
to tweak the bard e'en knowing how his bile
so easy roused will lead to bitter end
incessant carping now you'll hear, and while
he makes his noisome protest o'er your cheek
he'll find excuse to ravage and purloin
the work of others as he's wont to seek
and like as not he'll pinch some work of mine
and name it his, impressing not a few
as done before, the cycle turns again,
and scholars, for diversion, join the brou
haha (now there's a charming turn of pen!)
But have a care my friend, in what you say,
Ne'er treat him lightly, he'll not run away!
ben jonson 7-10-2002 0:29
Sorry, CHERI -- notice how you had to put quotes around "painter" and "paint"? Those quotes indicate that you use the words sarcastically. You set them up for special reading. You wouldn't have the special emphasis on "painter" if you were dealing with a real artist.
Soooo, your argument actually states something like If a phony painter can use pureed turds, why can't I use moldy words?
Well,
you can.
p.s. if you really wanted to convince me that Shakespearean words carry weight in a current conversation, you'd point me to some examples. I can think of none. Emily Dickinson might be the most recent, and her stuff is only readable by dedicated students.
TINA made some good points on the nature of artistic expression. Ultimately you have to please yourself. If you want to be published and get royalty checks, then you must please editors and audiences (neither of whom is fond of being called 'thee').
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I don't know that we ever established the ground rules here. I'm against using 'tis and thee as normal forms of expression in in a new piece. I believe that if all thy thought is expressed in Elizabethan prose, then thy guilt is established. Thou art an inauthentic poseur.
If, on the other hand, you simply want the occasional Thee or Thou to drop from a character's lip as a form of character revelation, then, by all means, do so.
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One of the issues NOT getting talked about here is the audience. For whom do you write? As Walter Ong said, "The writer's audience is never a fiction." Personally, I've never written for a Hooterite. I've wanted to. There's a Hooterite place in the big mall in Syracuse. If I went in there and my wife found out, she'd knock the back of my head into the front of my head. A lot of people come out of there with T-shirts. I don't recall any of those shirts having 'thee' or 'thou' on them. Maybe I'm too
distracted looking at something else.
Mark 7-10-2002 0:25
Hadrow,
Ogden Nash is a great favorite of mine as well. David Frost was okay, but George Burns got a bit old.
"Leave no tern unstoned," rated more highly with me than wearisome politcal interviews and unintelligible sound bites from Vaudeville. So I'm a low-life, sue me.
gariess 7-9-2002 23:55
Using feces to paint? Surely, that was an attempt to pre-empt such critical remarks as: "What is this crap?" "This guy's work is shit," or "Do you smell what I smell?" Maybe the painter had heard enough comments of this nature about his work from prior exhibitions. Still, it makes for an interesting entry on the program. Artist: Joseph Cowpatty. Medium: Shit. Oils and water colors can become so commonplace.
gariess 7-9-2002 23:38
ALL: If writing is an art form, since when are we limited to the tools we wish to use? If a “painter” can use feces to “paint”, then why should a writer not be able to use any word he or she sees fit to use?
GARIESS & HOWARD: I have no idea what battalion my grandfather was in. The only reason I think he may have been in combat is a story my mother told me when she was young. She was outside the house and made a whistling sound like a bomb coming down. Well, her father (my grandfather) came outside pretty fast and said “Did you do that?” She said yes and he told her not to do that ever again. It’s a mighty small piece of information and not from a very reliable source (my mother’s memory isn’t very good.).
Anyway, seems I’ll get a chance to talk with him sooner than I thought. My brother is driving down to North Carolina today and will be bringing my grandfather back with him on
Thursday or Friday.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
Good night all.
Cheri 7-9-2002 22:31
All this talk about thee and thou, haven't any of you ever been to the Hooterite colony, or Mennonite? There's a whole bunch of them that can thee and thou you all day long and long into the night.
We who write, use the words that we need to express ourselves, if that includes thee and thou, then so be it.
Jerry 7-9-2002 21:01
Ummmm... WILL? One minor correction if I might be so bold?Your seventh line reads:
"the images set in this trembling hand,"
Nice, but it doesn't scan at the same level as the rest of your work. Might I suggest instead:
"the imagery penned by this trembling hand,"
After all, if you're going to expend the effort to come back to instruct us, I'd think you'd wish to do your best...
howard 7-9-2002 20:28
MARK -- Actually, Will was not all that much earlier than "lingo."
From Webster's:
Main Entry: lin·go
Pronunciation: 'li[ng]-(")gO
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural lingoes
Etymology: probably from Lingua Franca, language, tongue, from Provençal, from Latin lingua -- more at TONGUE
Date: 1660
: strange or incomprehensible language or speech: as a : a foreign language b : the special vocabulary of a particular field of interest c : language characteristic of an individual
Note the date - 1660 -- it's even earlier than I thought!
howard 7-9-2002 19:57
MARK -- Thanks! only - if I'm so dadgummed "talented" how come I have so much trouble swimming in the fast lane?
And was that the same dumass who wrote "The Three Musketeers?"
:-)
howard 7-9-2002 18:49
Well, hokey smoke. Ol' Will S. comes in and makes my point.
"but if I did what lingo would I use"
...
"But I ain't comin' back no way no how"
See there? If ya wanna talk to today's people, ya gotta talk today's talk.
nuff sed
Mark 7-9-2002 18:21
Mark,
The spell-checker is fine. I fiddle with things every time I look at them. Obviously I fiddled between spell-ckecking and posting, probably fixing something that wasn't broken until after I fixed it.
Now, that is what I call constructive criticism. I see, now, that I should have learned about such things before seeking to make an essay. I feel I have built a house of suitable boards and with good tools, but there is a wall missing and where is the kitchen? No real digression, no real perforation. I'll be spending time with a good dictionary. All in good time; after taking the boat out for some bass, Thursday. Maybe after supper on Friday. Better make that Saturday.
Later, Dude
gariess 7-9-2002 15:18
"How do I dig you, let me check it out..."
HOWARD, you are a talented sunuvagun. Kewl, dude. Elisabeth Barrett couldn't possibly produce those words. But picture Elizabeth Taylor vamping Eddie Fisher in "BUtterfield 8." She stands at his left side and says, "How do I dig you?" She puts a finger on his chin, traces it down his throat, keeps it on his neck as she walks around behind him. "Let me check it out."
GARIESS -- well done. I don't know why your spell checker didn't catch unwiseand. Better check your checker. I also don't know why you'd want someone to point out weaknesses in such a well-done tale. If it's true, then perhaps you're still looking for the spanking you knew you deserved after such egregious incivility?
The classic essay starts with a statement of the subject matter. You have done that: "I have undertaken to investigate the influence of war on my own life." That's called exordium.
Next is Narration: that is the part of the essay that describes the path the exploration into the subject matter will take. You do that: "how my life has been shaped in large part by wars I prepared for, wars I recall, wars I experienced from a distance "
Then Digression: That is the part of an essay which digresses (funny how these things get their names). The point of Digression is to demonstrate that things similar to that which is under proof here, have happened elsewhere. Classical essayists always sought support for their arguments in this bandwagoning piece. Jonathon Swift said, "I'm not the only one to eat children, it's quite common in Polynesia." But I digress. You don't do that; you jump straight into your tale.
Next comes Proof. Here we present actual proof that our claim, thought, idea is correct (ordered as we said it would be ordered in Narration). The order here is not according Narration, but this is, after all, only the first incident in a list, a part of a larger enterprise.
Refutation follows Proof. Refutation is that part of the argument which allows other viewpoints, conflicting viewpoints. The aim here is to admit that there may be other ways to think about our project, then summarily show that those other ways have less merit than our own. You do that approximately: "I made my apology to Wayne who accepted it graciously and without any apparent rancor while his brother remained seemingly unimpressed."
Lastly, we should have Peroration, or, that part of the essay which restates our initial position and a summation of points made to prove it. In the Air Force I was given an NCO training on "How to Train." We were told that we'd have to repeat ourselves several times before our point would stick. The military way was, "Tell 'em what you're gonna tell 'em. Tell 'em. Tell 'em what you told 'em." Peroration is that last bit. Tell them what you told them. Again you do this approximately. We started out with issues of "how war affected me" but end with "how I regret what I did to Wayne."
Has your piece of writing any weaknesses? Well, dumass, of course it does.
Can you improve it? Yes. Write more.
Mark 7-9-2002 12:14
Should I return - nay, I'll not say I shall,
but if I did what lingo would I use;
To speak of love or lust, or hearts in thrall,
to ope' dark secrets hidden long by ruse?
What words to speak of nature's beauty grand?
What pictures could I write would faithful show,
the images set in this trembling hand,
revealing thoughts held captive until now?
Ideas and ideals that so inspire,
that stir to zealous action then to move;
To take a chance, to brave refining fire,
to purify a motive, prove a love.
But I ain't comin' back no way no how,
If there ain't no more room for thee or thou!
;-)
Will S. 7-9-2002 11:09
Getting back to the KJV, and words, and imagery -- there's an account (probably apocryphal) that tells about the 46th Psalm being translated on Shakespeare's 46th birthday. In the KJV, if you count 46 words in from the beginning of Psalm 46 you find "shake," and 46 words from the end you find "spear." Dunno who has enough free time to find all these novelties, but there it is.
howard 7-9-2002 10:13
MARK -- Cool! I dig it! I agree to a point, but the impression I got was that the critic was saying 'Lose those 'archaic' words entirely' and I'm not sure that's good advice. In fact, I think it's bad advice.
The poem in question was intended to be a classical sonnet, and those words seem to fit better. Picture Elisabeth Barrett Browning writing:
"How do I dig you, let me check it out..." hmmm.
Cynthia sent me one of her sonnets (she's new to them) and she had something to say, but the voice is just beginning to form.
Yes, everything changes/evolves, and I agree that the KJV was translated with an emphasis leaning more to form than function, but as you said, the main ideas are still there. Modern translations are much easier to study and understand, but many of them lack the sheer imagery -- the mystical beauty of those archaic words.
I admit that much of modern poetry turns me off. I don't mind free verse, but try as I might, I just can't seem to "feel" or "see" whatever it is that is turning on the poet. Give me Frost or Burns or Ogden Nash any day! But then I prefer Rockwell over Warhol as well. Must be the 50s-60s didn't get all of me :-)
CHERI -- My wife's uncle was a quiet man, unassuming, very humble. We'd chat at reunions about family, farming, and fishing, and I enjoyed his company, but never got to know all that much about him, until it was too late.
Three men showed up at his funeral, in full dress US Army uniforms, bearing a flag to cover his casket. It was from them I learned that Uncle Lynn had been a member of the division of engineers who had suffered so many casualties in the invasion of Normandy on June 6, 1944. He was in the first or second wave, and was wounded, but continued to fight until they were relieved. He was awarded the Silver Star, I believe, but never said a word about it. Perhaps he wouldn't have wanted to talk about it even if I had asked, but then again, I'll never know.
But it's not just Grandfathers who have stories worth telling and listening to. Ask any old-timer about the worst rain storm, or the coldest winter, or what it was like to go hungry during the depression. Or ask what it was like during the war. Then listen, remember, and write.
There's a series of books called "Foxfire" that was done by a high school English class in Georgia. The teacher, Eliot Wiggenton, was looking for a way to generate interest in reading and writing. He finally got a student to give a report, and the student spoke about how his grandpa built a chimney (or something like that). Another student spoke up and said that was not the way his grandpa did it.
Wiggenton saw the opportunity, and got that student to report on how his grandpa did it, and got the rest of the students interested in reporting on other things that the old-timers used to do. They put the reports together in the first "Foxfire" book, thus recording a way of life that would probably have been lost.
This developed into a full-blown journalism project, eventually branching into publishing, editing, electronic media, etc, and it was copied in several other areas of the country. All because somebody asked his grandpa how he used to do something.
Like MARK said, everything changes, and moves in new directions, but without GARIESS, RANDALL, and JERRY, and your grandpa, and all those old words, how will we know how we got here?
howard 7-9-2002 8:49
Thinking, thinking...
Critics, thee and thine.
You see, here's the thing.
I have my diploma in Graphic and Fine Arts. In my first year (of three) I was told over and over that realism was dead, that real artists didn't do realism, that modernism/abstract art were the only way to be a 'real' artist. Avant Garde was all that mattered, and all others were only pretending. The thing is, my art is realistic.
By the end of first year, I was devastated. I signed up for second year, but didn't know if I'd return. I felt like a sham, a phony, faking my way through. All those instructors, whom I was paying to teach me about art, were telling me so! What was the point of going back to that, when I obviously didn't fit the bill?
So in August I took a five day expedition trip into the mountains with my fiance. And on day three, sitting on top of a mountain looking out in every direction with glacial valleys and lakes peering back, I realised something. The world is the greatest piece of art ever created, and I could do no better service to myself and mankind than to express my vision of the earth in any way I could. Damn the instructors with different visions than mine, they could do as they pleased and so could I. I went back, finished my diploma, and did realistic work until the last day.
Instructors are just critics we pay. They are no more 'right' than anyone else with some relevant education on the given subject. I agree with some, disagree with others, and learn from them all by carefully distilling what they have to say. Sometimes I find one who has valuable things to say; sometimes I find one who is all hot air; usually I have to sift what they say to find the treasures.
'Thee' and 'thine' are like impressionism; old, good, and valuable. If I paint an impressionistic painting, even a really good one, it probably won't sell. I don't give a damn. I will still paint an impressionistic painting if I want to, and will still enjoy the process, learn from it, and hang it on the wall if it's good enough. And I will continue to call myself an artist.
So Cynthia, using that kind of language might not help to get you published. If publishing is a big goal for you, you might have to bend to 'their' preferences. But in no way does it reduce what you do and write. Your creativity deserves to run free and use whatever words you want.
Blue skies!
Tina 7-9-2002 3:22
Carol,
You are so kind. I was hoping to have someone say if any particular thing was thought provoking or moving in some way. I find that someone saying "it's all good" so to speak leaves me wondering where I will find the will to procrastinate as I usually do from continued effort. I do have ideas for continuation of the work, but I sometimes scare myself that I might disrupt my comfortably indolent life style. If only someone might say they found a particular passage needed fixing, I could happily add another failed effort to my body of work and go take the boat out for some striped bass fishing.
gariess 7-9-2002 0:46
Cheri,
I strongly suggest that if you have a genuine interest in any part of your grandfather's life that you let him know of it. He will decided what he wants to share, and I am sure you will be at no peril for asking. You may be surprised to find that he has much to say. You might consider that if your grandfather's service was in WWII, there is only about one chance in three that he served in a combat unit. I think that statistic is close to correct. As Andy Rooney pointed out, you are more likely to find that your grandfather was in the 26th Shoe Repair Battalion than that he was in the 101st Airborne Division which fought in France, Belgium, Holland, and Germany, and did occupation duty in Austria, or the 1st Infantry division that fought in all of the European theater but Holland. Be that as it may, by all means ask. Just remember that this advice comes from one who believes strongly in the lessons of war and that few things are better learned than of its realities. In my complete essays, I hope to achieve the goal of being able to impart to readers a sense from wars past that I expect will be of the greatest importance in the time to come. If you are young, it is so important to have a basis on which to view how present and future war needs to be approached. There is so much more than mere fervor for victory that is important to consider. I don't really believe one can know all there is to know, but an incredible lot depends on people knowing as much as they can. A determination to prevail is important, but a nation responding only to the influence of those who are hot to wage conflict regardless of consequences is a nation at grave risk.
I have exceed the boundaries of your question, but I do so, I hope, in your best interest.
gariess 7-9-2002 0:27
Hi All :)
Back from a weekend with family. Dad's side of the family managed a quickly put together reunion. A few cousins were in town for class reunions, which is what precipatated the event. I haven't seen many of these people in fifteen years and it was just great to see everyone. Now, to make plans in advance so even more out-of-towners can attend. The event was held at the old "farmstead". While the original house is no longer livable, it's still there, surrouned by the same lilac bushes I remember playing in, though the old apple tree we all climbed was split by lighting long ago.
Gariess -- your essay is a great read. You mention that you want to add to it -- please do! I wish I could pin-point for you what I like, but it all blends in together so well that each memory only strengthens the next. Very well done dear man.
Oops -- hubby dearest is yelling for ice cream bars -- in this heat, I believe I'll join him. I'll add to this post tomorrow. :)
Carol 7-8-2002 23:51
Let me preface all this by saying Welcome CYNTHIA. But then say I agree with that unnamed critic.
One of our honored texts says, "There is nothing new under the sun." Of course, what we find is that there are no new ideas, but every day someone finds a new way of expressing those old ideas. Those old truths.
Alexander Pope said, "If I see farther than others, it is because I stand on the shoulders of giants." But then Newton said that also, and so did someone else after that. All of them thought of as original thinkers, but really they were original expressers.
Even the bible changes words. When King James chartered the committee for the translation of the bible, he charged them first with making a book of beautiful expression in English and second with translating the bible. Go into a bible store today and pick up a new bible. Compare it with the old eight-inch-thick volume that sits on your grandmother's bookshelf. The words are different. Same ideas, new expression.
I would side with the critic who says "thee" makes a work flop. Grandmother said "'tis" but even she wasn't old enough to use "thee" in common speech. The old high school English teachers who told us that poetry was some kind of elevated speech really had it all wrong. The truly remarkable thing about poetry in any age is the way it manages to compress elevated ideas into such small spaces and in such normal language.
--------------
Robert Creeley came to Binghamton for a semester in '85 or '86. I sat in a poetry seminar with him and about eight grad students. At the end of it all he handed me a packet of my stuff with his notes all over it and told me, "Well, you certainly have a voice. Now you need something to say." I've been through a few changes on how to understand that, but it seems apropos in this conversation. If you use "Thee" and "Tis" in your writing, then it seems an indication that you do not really have your own voice. HOWARD wrote "So come on in -- we welcome thee!" Stick around and read some more of his stuff and you'll find that that's not his real voice. That's his real attitude, he really means welcome! And that's his real craft in those rhymed iambs. But HOWARD's real voice is in the lingo of the '50s and '60s. Do ya dig?
Back to Creeley. This is from an interview with him and on the topic of Americans and rules of writing.
"I remember British friends were saying, 'God! You Americans are endlessly talking theory and prosody and all this bullshit! Don't you have anything? Don't you have any tradition? I mean, don't you have any way of writing that at least locates you in the same way that you might, you know, locate ways of dressing or furniture for your house or something? But do you have to be so endlessly paranoid about what you're doing? I mean, who cares? If you like the poem isn't that the point? And there's theories and projects and I mean...'
'Well,' I said, 'It's probably we're defensive and we've got to have some means whereby to explain ourselves to some possible other who hasn't as yet come along but one day may show up.'
There weren't a great number of people asking about how do you write a poem but something like Williams's I Wanted to Write a Poem is poignant in that way... "
"I Wanted To Write A Poem" is William Carlos Williams' autobiographical look at his works.
Anyway, back to me and thee. Only use it if you purposefully intend it to sore thumb.
Mark 7-8-2002 23:20
I really am going to bed now.
Good night!
Cheri 7-8-2002 23:15
HOWARD, RANDALL AND GARIESS:
Hearing your stories reminds me about my grandfather.
He served in the armed forces and I really don't know that much about it. I guess I'm a little afraid to ask him, because I don't know if he would want to talk about it.
We are taking vacation in August and visiting my grandparents in North Carolina on the way to Disney World. Do you think I should try to broach the subject with him?
Cheri 7-8-2002 23:10
Well I'm glad that I've been welcomed back, I was getting worried that I wouldn't have been able to get on tonight, I have a vanguard practice tomorrow and then ... our last trip of the season, down to the cherry festival. ((SIGH)) I wish it wasn't coming down to the last of our parades, but we must move on, no matter how loathe we are to leave our present condition. (Wow, that sounded so serious that I wasn't sure that it was me that was talking!) I wonder if it was my muse....
How are all my NB colleagues, and are there any interesting stories spawned on paper yet? I have been able to read some of the posts that were made lately, and I twiddle to get some pen and paper to write, write, write, and write. I'm going to be getting the chance during my last trip if we have any alone time (apart from traveling). I sincerely doubt it though. My writing has been slightly successful and I'm heading into the tweaking stage in some of my projects, though I have been writing more poetry of late. I hope all of your projects have been doing exceedingly well. Well, I hate to say goodbye, but I have to go and take care of something, so until we talk again,
Till Niagara Falls (It's still there!)
Elaine 7-8-2002 23:10
TINA: The business I have is vending machines. It's small, just four machines. My sister and I took out loans to buy the initial three in 1999 and another loan in 2001 for the fourth. Unfortunately, it takes a lot of our spare time and now we wish we hadn’t started.
Know anyone who wants a vending route?
MEL: Good to know all is well. Hope you’re feeling 100% again soon!
I’ll be lurking!!
Good night all.
Cheri 7-8-2002 22:59
Howard,
I just now reached the post wherein you commented on my material. Your thoughts alwys mean a lot to me. Thank you.
Gariess 7-8-2002 22:27
Jerry,
That's a story with a good deal of charm in it. It reads like looking into a captivating picture. A scene one doesn't want to walk away from.
gariess 7-8-2002 22:22
Hadrow,
Funny you should ask, good buddy. Some fleshing out of the material I just posted could include the sessions of oleo mixing at the kitchen table. There weren't all that many, because, as you mention, the stuff was so utterly nasty tasting. People should never get the idea that the stuff was anything like the oleo of today. To this day, I can remember how bad it was and still wonder that anyone could have wanted to eat the stuff. I hope that was not the best thing that Napolean gave up to posterity.
You sound like you might have worn Knickers as a kid. For those of you who have no idea, knickers were short (material saving) pants that had a snug band below the knees. What puzzles me was how much material they could have saved, because we had to wear the long stockings with them, and men still wore long, more baggy, and high wasted pants in those days. Another example of how people felt better knowing that their children were sacrificing. Sacrifice by proxy must have been a subtle notion of the wartime mentality. One can always take comfort in knowing that the other guy, even if he is your kid, is taking up some slack.
An anecdote on oleo was that in the Boston suburbs my wife's uncle used to queue up for a couple of pounds of ready-made oleo at the store on Saturdays. There would always be a time when the "goodfellas" arrived and pushed thier way to the front and told the boy to "get their's." Their's being some prebagged pounds of grade AAA butter. Once when this happened, the uncle, fed up with working his butt off all week and standing in lines on weekends started a near riot by demanding from the kid at the counter that since he got "their's," he could damn well get "his." The crowd got behind the demand in force and scared the kid into bringing out butter for everyone. Herbie said no one could belive how much g..d.... real butter there was in that little store.
gariess 7-8-2002 22:11
Thanks for that, JERRY! It brought back memories. My dad and I went fishing on the St Lawrence just before I went over to Germany. I haven't thought of that in quite a while, but your story brought it all back.
Yes, welcome back, ELAINE! We were starting to think Niagara really did fall! :-)
GARIESS, RANDALL, (JERRY too) -- since we're near the same age, do you remember mixing the yellow dye into the Nucoa Margarine when you were a kid? Nasty stuff, that oleo! Did you know that it was actually developed for Napoleon's march into Russia? Seems his army wouldn't fight without butter, but butter wouldn't keep on that long march. So they invented oleo. 'Strue!
howard 7-8-2002 21:39
Welcome Cynthia, Welcome back Elaine.
Here's a bit I wrote about going off to war.
One Day at the Dam
By Jerry A. G. Ericsson
The bright summer sun filtered through the curtains and into the bedroom, as it crept slowly up, bringing the day to the City of Lemmon and woke me from my restless sleep. Fear of the unknown weighed heavily on my mind that morning as I rose my bed.
The comforting smell of breakfast drifted into the bedroom, bringing with it found memories of youthful days gone by. Days of youthful innocence. Days when the worst problem I faced was where to get the gas to drag main, and who would buy the beer for the night.
The morning doves calling each other in the trees of the back yard proved a gentle reminder of the peacefulness of the Dakota’s. I turned to my wife of less than a year, and gave her face, so peaceful in sleep, a quick gentle kiss then went into the kitchen for an early morning breakfast.
The table was carefully set by my mother. I could hear the click of her leg brace, as she moved about the kitchen, cooking a wonderful breakfast of scrambled eggs, fried bacon and potatoes, prepared the way only she could. Dad sat at the table, trying to look happy, but, I could see in his eyes, the worry of what was to come.
Mom smiled brightly as she sat before me the most delicious meal I had eaten in the months since I left home. Quickly I devoured every delicious morsel of the food on my plate, and then helped myself to generous second helping.
“Think the fish are biting at Baulkies?” dad said, as he drank the strong black coffee, and used a slice of toast to mop up the last of the juice that ran from the scrambled eggs.
“Think we should give it a try?” I responded.
“Times a wasting.”
“Want to wait till Judy wakes up,” I said.
“Let’s just go try it, let the poor girl sleep in, she had a long day yesterday.” Dad replied.
With this, we finished breakfast, and jumped, into dad’s old 64 Galaxy 500 for quick trip to the fishing hole.
As we drove, dad was quiet, deep in thought, and I had little to say, deep in my own thoughts of what was to come.
We arrived at Baulke’s dam, and carried our fishing gear down the rail road tracks, that formed the north shore of the dam. Stopping at a spot held the best promise of fish.
A gentle South Dakota breeze blowing in from the north, formed small waves on the crystal blue water.
We found a couple of large rocks along the right of way, we sat, baited our hooks and cast out into the dam, in silence.
As we sat back to watch our floats, we each lit up cigarettes, and leaned back on the rocks to relax and enjoy the beautiful summer day, the greenness of the grass, the deep blue of the cool restless water of the dam that lapped up on the rocks at our feet.
Like I had so many times in my youth, I looked up at the clear blue Dakota sky, and found all sort of shapes in the clouds as they passed in review before my father and me, I searched for and found a meaning in each one.
I could smell the freshness in the air, mixed with the smell of new mown hay that filtered in from a farm to the north; it brought back memories of the days when dad and I bailed that same hay for the farmers of the area at a nickel a bail. The quiet of the prairie was interrupted by the cricket’s chirp, the music of the song birds and the croaking of the frogs in the backwater of the damn.
We fished quietly for hours, each of us deep in our own thoughts. Finally over the lunch mom sent in a cooler, along with the six-pack of beer, that I was not yet legally old enough to drink dad broke the silence.
“You worried about the war?” dad asked.
“Ya, kind of, but I’m excited about going, just to see what it’s all about.”
“I just wanted to get you alone, and have a talk before you go. I’ve been watching what’s going on over there on the news, you best be careful over there.”
“Looks like you got a bite dad!”
“Just the waves.”
“Ya probably.” I replied, as for the first time, I noticed the wind had increased, and the waves were now bouncing our floats about, simulating a fish strike.
“Just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you son, for having the guts to join the Army, to go off to defend our country so many young men who join the National Guard, or go off to Canada to hide. I wanted you to know that I love you son, and that comes from the bottom of my heart.”
“Thanks dad, I love you too. Make sure to write me when I’m over there to let me know how you and mom are. They tell me I won’t have much time to write back, but I’ll try when I can, I’ll be thinking of you and mom all the time.”
We fished the rest of the day, and although I didn’t know it then, it would be our last fishing trip together, as dad was to pass away before I got out of the service.
I don’t know if we caught any fish that day, I guess that wasn’t the purpose of our trip, but I will never forget that last fishing trip, and the tears which ran down dad’s face as he told me how proud he was of me. Of how he told me to come home safely from Viet Nam.
As the day came to an end, the sun sank slowly below the South Dakota prairie, bringing the twilight of dusk; the meadow lark sang its merry song. We carried our gear back to the car, and slowly drove back to town, ending a day that neither of us wanted to end.
Jerry 7-8-2002 21:09
Thank you HOWARD and TINA!--(sorry I said Elaine because I had last looked at the top of your message, oops!)
Thanks you for your opinions and the sincerity in which they were given.
Your friend,
Cynthia
Cynthia 7-8-2002 14:53
Thank you Howard and Elaine!
Last night I actually wondered if all my work had come to naught. I questioned everything I'd ever written. Now I'm breathing a HUGE sigh of relief, and I thank you for that. I just thought, here is a true writer and he's telling me that my style is all wrong without even needing to see it. The thought that his opinion was just that, his opinion, didn't sink in until I heard from you guys. Thanks again, it means a lot.
Cynthia
Cynthia 7-8-2002 14:44
Elaine, of course its fine to jump back in! No one has ever been castigated because of a short absence.
Cynthia, ignore that critic! Cut out that article, pin it to the wall, and throw darts at it! #1 thing about any art, including all forms of writing, is that you do it for yourself, not the critics. Damn the critics who want to stifle creativity! Do you agree with all movie critics? All book critics? No? Then give yourself permission to ignore this one; he/she is not the authority on anything, just someone who has decided to give their opinion as if they have the right to do so. They don't! Use any word you feel like when writing, it is YOUR poetry not theirs!
TTFN
Tina 7-8-2002 11:14
CYNTHIA --
A critic's preference, his choice
Is mere opinion, 'tis your voice
That weaves your words in forms we see,
So come on in -- we welcome thee!
Seriously -- one book, one critic's opinion is not a thing to be taken as cast in concrete. There's nothing wrong with those words, or any words, as long as they fit within the framwork of ideas presented by the poet. They might not fit, for example, in "Green Eggs and Ham," but they're certainly at home in a classic sonnet, or other serious poetry. Go with the bard -- he did it well!
And do post an example of your work for us to enjoy!
Again -- welcome!
howard 7-8-2002 9:58
Hello again,
I can't believe I forgot to tell you which two words are in question! They are...'tis and thee.
I had accidentally deleted my first message and when I re-typed my message I left out the most important part!!!
Sorry,
Cynthia
Cynthia 7-8-2002 9:39
Hello,
I haven't been here before, but I need advice desperately. I write a bit of poetry and love to do so, but now I'm greatly doubting myself. I was in Books-A-Million checking out information about how to attempt to have a book published, when I stumbled upon a book written by a critic. Oh my gosh. My world just crashed around me. Apparently, I should not use any words which are not commonly used in this time period. Since I grew up reading Shakespeare, much of his language in writing has bled into my psyche. My other great influence was Dr. Seuss, which seems to not be a problem. I was introduced to Shakespeare's work when I was thirteen. It was summertime and I would take an old literature book outside and read and read and read. It was sonnet #18 that captured my heart and changed the way I felt about poetry. His words held my heart captive while I lived inside the poetry he wrote with such vivid and deep emotion. It has always seemed just as alive to me when I read it as it was when he wrote it. So, now what am I to do with my varied sonnets which contain the two words in question? According to the critic who's book I was reading, these two words are only two of many contractions considered to be part of a language which is no longer commonly spoken and, therefore, off limits. I looked over my poetry and realized that if I changed these words I would be compromising the meaning and mindset in which they were written. I wasn't able to do it. But, I wonder, should I? Is there no way these words are acceptable in writing poetry? By not changing them, am I dooming myself to failure? Would it mean that I could never share my work with other writers without exposing myself to criticism on this subject? Two little words can cause quite a fuss, can't they? Any and all advice is appreciated and will be considered constructive. Thank you to all who will take time to respond. I am hoping to get many opinions on this. Thanks again,
Cynthia
Cynthia 7-8-2002 9:34
Also, check out
http://www.roz.org/flash/bear.swf
Dunno about Avon donating 10 cents, but it's cute!
howard 7-8-2002 7:28
For those who never saw one, there are a couple of pictures of the war stamp book that GARIESS and I were talking about, on http://home.stny.rr.com/htuckey/
I guess I'd better start cleaning off this desk -- dunno what else I might find!
howard 7-8-2002 7:22
MARY -- Thanks! I wish I could get to see him more often. They live about 4 hours away, and only get to come back a few times a year.
GARIESS -- A wonderful, well written essay! I can relate to much of that, having been born a month before Pearl Harbor. We bought war stamps too, and I still have one on my desk in front of me, that my grandma bought for me in 1943, even before I started school. It has a dollar's worth of stamps in it. This one got put away and never got filled up, but I remember many that did. Dunno where they ever got to.
At any rate, that is a fascinating account, and I hope you take it outside this small place. It deserves to be seen! Thank you for it!
howard 7-8-2002 7:07
The following may be a rather quick entry on the theme of the week and may be entered a bit soon, but I fear I may be unavailable to post for the rest of the week. I did a spell check on this but it is otherwise unedited. The usual caveat having been thusly submitted...
A bitter reality is expressed in a quote that states only the dead shall know the end of war. For some there is too much hopelessness in this belief, but history supports it none the less. I have undertaken to investigate the influence of war on my own life, since I hold the belief that war has been a great part of my life in spite of the fact that I have never fought in one. I hope that this investigation can reveal to others as much as it does to me as I reflect on how my life has been shaped in large part by wars I prepared for, wars I recall, wars I experienced from a distance - a distance that at times seemed as close as the house next door - and in all cases, wars I did not fight in any physical, however tangible, sense.
I was four years old at time Pearl Harbor was bombed by the Japanese. I have made no study of how young people can be before conscious memories can form in their minds, but I can clearly recall the circumstances of my hearing the news of Pearl Harbor being carried through the tenement neighborhood of my young life. People shouted of it from windows and others carried it on foot through the streets. Something there was in all of this that impressed me strongly even though I have no idea what my impression of the implications of war could have been at so young an age. From the age of five to the age of nine my acquaintance with current events was formed around a world conflict in which death by acts of war was as natural as the coming of the ice truck, the birth of a sibling, and the wearing of a new pair of knickers. My recollections of history’s greatest war are those absorbed by a child during what were perhaps his most formative years.
As the conflict progressed I came to learn of the many deaths of soldiers in the Pacific and in Europe. To hear of a brother or an uncle of a neighborhood kid who was killed in combat became such a common occurrence that it soon seemed simply a natural part of what goes on in the world - something that just happened. Only once did I attend the wake of a soldier of that war. I can recall mainly that we kids were tolerated by the family for some unknown reason as we milled about underfoot in the presence of the deceased. It was one of those curious occasions of youth that come about quite unexpectedly. One day you go outside to play and you wind up in the parlor of neighbors with a dead soldier in the house. You didn’t see him fall. You didn’t hear the bombs. What you heard were the sobs of his family, The sighs of the men and the weeping of the women. What you remember is that it all seemed very strange. What you knew was that you would always remember it.
Kids do not question much that occurs in a world driven by adults. I was curious about the war of course, but about the major issues, as kids - boys in particular - there was little we felt the need to ask about. I knew we were the good guys, the people who were right. I knew we were at war in just about the whole world. I knew the Germans were bad, and so were the Japs. We played out the war every day in mock battles. We chose sides every day and as little as we really new of warfare, we made and held forts and defensive positions, we planned and executed offensive actions, we fired our weapons, we fell dead or wounded, and there were never any rules save one: The Americans always won. There was little reckoning among us that we had allies. I suppose we knew there were the British and others in the struggle, but they received little recognition by us for their part in the war. One day I might have been among the winners, but winners had to defeat an enemy, so there were days I had to be the enemy. It was an ignoble task that one accepted in the spirit that, as unpleasant as it was, it was necessary.
Three years, or so, is a very big part of a childhood. The war was lasting too long for me to grow up and never ask myself the one important question. Were we going to win? The war had been going on for half my life, or so it seemed. I was beset with the idea that I would eventually be bombed into oblivion or become a slave of the Germans. On the east coast we had the sense that our great conflict was in the European theater. Daily, I imagined every scenario a young mind could conjure as the result of losing the war. It seemed that death was the major threat, but as that became less and less acceptable I formed images of occupation, slavery, incarceration, forced labor and any other unpleasant circumstance that might exist in a post war, defeated America. It all began to take a toll on my concentration, especially in school. It can become too much for a second grader to have to worry about surviving defeat at the hands of the Nazis and at the same time keep one’s mind on learning arithmetic.
Nightly I had bad dreams. The Frankenstein monster was gradually being displaced from my routine reveries by SS storm troopers and the Gestapo, whatever that was. I remember wishing the Frankenstein monster would come back; I could at least consciously tell myself that the monster was not real. So many dead soldiers coming back to the neighborhood was a concrete reality too impossible to argue away.
There came the day, eventually, when my anxieties - as best as I can describe them - precipitated an unpleasant incident. I took some black pepper from my mother’s pantry and went to the street corner where we kids gathered near the neighborhood grocery. There, I threw the pepper into the face of Wayne Schlummer. I am convinced to this day that the idea to do such a thing grew in my mind from a scene in a Three Stooges film. In any case, Wayne Schlummer, the recipient of this outrage was the unfortunate son of first generation German immigrants. Unfortunate because he was born with a condition that left him slightly crippled in one leg. He was the only kid of German ancestry that we knew in our neighborhood. When Wayne inhaled the pepper he immediately burst into tears and his brother, who was a big enough kid to have severely thrashed me in retribution, instead sadly took his crippled and tearful brother home.
It was understood that although Wayne was of German ancestry, common decency, as well as his physical impairment, decreed that he was beyond the reach of any anti-German sentiment or retributive action. Clearly, I had a problem. Something about life in a violent world had finally reached me in a way that set me beyond the norms of others. Why I did such a thing puzzled other kids at the scene and this violence earned me the considerable consternation of most. Incredibly, things being what they were, news of the pepper incident never reached my folks, nor did I regret that it didn’t. As in all times, I expect that the order of the day was to let kids sort out their own disagreements. My problem at that time was to deal with my apprehensions about the war.
There was no question of revealing my fears in the neighborhood or in the school yard. Slackers were not taken lightly in 1944, not even in the second grade. In fact there were probably no citizens that took a less complicated view of the war effort than those in the second year of their elementary education. Patriotism, jingoism, and as many isms as can be even loosely connected with our nation’s struggle ran rampant among the faculty of Jerome Dwelly. As incredible as it may seem, children of perceived slackers - those who did not send their kids to school with money to buy war stamps, among other delinquencies, were routinely brought to the head of the class and subjected to ridicule by the teacher. This fact betrays the extent of the national obsession as it existed in that time and place. The injustices suffered by children in a public school were not a matter of great concern. For all the months that this sort of thing went on, I know of no instance where these practices were ever brought into question by a parent or a school official. In my own case, I was fortunate enough that my parents were able to send me to school with money for war stamps, and I was at one time awarded the rank of honorary colonel in recognition of my father’s purchase of a substantial bond. Even as kids we wasted no sympathy on those whose parents couldn’t or wouldn’t cough up for the cause. It was not insensitivity on the part of the kids, but in all the years since, I knew of nothing that redeemed the adults who created and ignored these events.
The foregoing establishes the basis for my reluctance to let my doubts and fears be known in the neighborhood, but I did, at last, decide that I would put the question before my mother. After all, as much as I realized that she didn’t know much about anything, I knew there was no question that she would not expose me to the citizenry as a defeatist. After all, as finicky as I was at the dinner table, and as unruly as I was about my toys and about fighting with my sisters, I was sure that a Mother’s love would prevail over the impulse to impugn a slacker.
So one day in 1944 I confronted my mother with the biggest question of my life to that point. Were we going to lose the war, and if we did what would happen to us, most importantly what would happen to me? Remarkably, my mother rose to the occasion and not only did she score marks against my conviction that she was hopelessly unknowledgeable in most important matters, but she handled the question in a rather impressive fashion.
I learned not only that my mother knew some things after all, but that she had even managed, in her own time in school, to win an Atlas in a geography competition. She showed me a spread on a large page and pointed out the superior size of the lands of the allied forces - I am sure she added a few to the actual ones - in comparison to the puny size of the Axis countries. She explained that such small countries could have no real hope of defeating so many very large countries in a war. I considered this at some length and decided there was sound logic in her thesis. There was one point that left me puzzled, and that was why these puny nations believed they could win this war in the first place. Her answer was that they were in large part very unwiseand very misguided, and in many cases downright crazy. As a result of this discourse I was ultimately relieved of the greatest anxiety of my young life.
There was something I needed to do in the next few days and I did it entirely on my own volition. I had learned the practice of apologizing for egregious wrongs from the same woman who taught me my first geography lesson. I once was forced to apologize for some unremembered offense against a neighborhood girl by walking to her house, knocking on the door and making my apology in the presence of her family. It was the most miserable single experience I can recall of that time in my life. I decided that if I was to make things right in my own world that I must apologize to Wayne Schlummer in the same excruciating fashion as I had done on that prior occasion, and I must do it under no duress but from my own conscience. At eight years of age, on a cold rainy afternoon after school let out, I went to Wayne’s house. I explained the nature of my mission to Mrs. Schlummer who regarded me curiously and rather kindly as I recall. She summoned Wayne from upstairs who came to the parlor in the company of the same big brother who had declined to beat the stuffing out of me on the day I had thrown pepper in his crippled little brother’s face. I made my apology to Wayne who accepted it graciously and without any apparent rancor while his brother remained seemingly unimpressed. Mrs. Schlummer served us all some red Jello and after an appropriately short visit I walked home, congratulating myself that I had managed the entire occasion without shedding a tear, which is more than I can say for any occasion since, including this very moment, that I have recalled throwing pepper in Wayne Schlummer’s face.
I hope to have more to post on this subject in the future. For the present I will be glad to hear any observations that folks care to make, either about the writing or the material.
gariess 7-8-2002 4:42
HOWARD: I went and watched the little videos of your grandson and he is totally adorable. I wanted to reach in my monitor and tickle him!! Glad to hear that he didn't need any surgery. He looks plenty glad too!
Cool arrowhead!
Shortie Theme for this week: Forgiveness
Best to all.
Mary 7-8-2002 1:23
umm..mmm? hello? does anyone remember me? I feel sheepish. i don't remember the last time i was here, but i'm back, for a while anyway... my muse was lonely for the bright spotlights of the NB and i agree with her. i loved it here and can't imagine that i was stupid enough to go away (even if it was for a month) you guys are just to great (not to mention fun, or was it funny?) sorry that i wasn't here for to read everything for a while. (i'm going to have a hard time catching it up, but i'm really plan on doing it, tomorrow) this is just a little post from me saying that i'm still alive if you want me back...
Till Niagara Falls!
ELAINE
Elaine 7-8-2002 0:37
TINA -- "Wee" Joel is doing fine, Thanks! He didn't have to have the surgery (Praise God!) and he's doing much better. There's a couple of pix of him at http://home.stny.rr.com/htuckey/
Click on the mvc... files.
Three men were arrested here yesterday, and charged with murder in the death of a county deputy sheriff. He had stopped to investigate suspicious activity in a local park at around 3AM the other morning. Turns out they were driving a stolen pickup truck, and had used it to break down the door of a gun dealer, and had stolen a number of guns. They shot him 15 times, then ran over him. I think we'll see the death penalty in this one, for at least two of them. He was a good man.
howard 7-7-2002 16:42
Hi all!
Rosemary, sounds like you've had all the excitement you need for awhile. Stay dry :c)
Rachel, don't lurk too much. Just say hi if that's all the time you have.
Howard, how's wee Joel doing? (she asks, hoping against hope that she has his name right...)
Hey, has anyone ever had their cards read? I did for the first time last night, and now I'm spooked. Yes, it was cool/scary/weird all in one, and she said some very specific things that hit the nail on the head perfectly. One of the simpler things she said was that I will continue to write, and it will come but the writing road will be slow. She said a lot of other things though, and I think I'll need many days to sort through it all.
Was out almost all night, and now I'm utterly pooped. My eyes don't like looking at this screen.
Blue skies!
(oh yeah, did a jump yesterday, and it was, as usual, awesome! Not enough brain-power to write about it, though. ;-)
Tina 7-7-2002 15:59
a steamy Morning to all,
MEL,
Glad to see you are back home and in good humor. Happy healing.
Weather report,
It looks like the excitement is finally over for our area. Everyone near the rivers will still be copeing with flooding for a few more days. If it doesn't rain any more. Small storm threatening now at the coast.
Friday night a little after midnight, I was awakened by a fire truck sounding horns, sirens and anything else they had with them. Scared the beejeebers out of me. They were evacuating the area because of danger of the dam failing up stream from us. My sister was at work so I loaded up my dogs and headed for the red cross shelter. I spent a miserable four hours in the truck with my dogs, trying to nap the night away. I could have gone inside and used a cot but the dogs would have howled the place down around our heads and I can't sleep with a lot of strangers wandering around me.
There was no danger whatsoever for my area unless the dam broke and I know it is better to be safe than sorry but I suspect politics had something to do with the fuss about that dam. There was no danger of failure unless the water went over the top. OK, it got to within one and a half feet of the top, but what they were hollering about was cracks and leeks on the face of the dam. Now we hear all concrete dams have cracks and leaks. It is natural and happens right after the dam is constructed.
There are a lot of dam experts who are madder than hatters at the county judge that gave the alarm. We're not sure who told him to do it but if the dam had crashed, and we were already evacuated, he would have been a hero. You just never know how the world will turn out.
I was really worried about the horses but had no way to move them. Just had to hope nothing would happen. Not a good way to spend an uncomfortable night.
Enough whinning from me.
See ya,
Rosemary 7-7-2002 12:59
Robo-Mel,
Welcome back.
Glad everything went well for you.
Ed
Eddie French 7-7-2002 6:54
Need someone to profread your work, why not let your computer, the link below is to a freeware program that reads your text back to you over your sound card and speakers, works with word or WP, and several other programs.
Jerry Sentence read back
7-6-2002 23:41
Hi all,
I think I am going to become a lurker :o) In the fall I will be taking four courses. I know that I won't be able to get to the NB much. Maybe I'll post a note the odd time. Maybe I'll just gaze in the widow. (Gezz, that makes me sound like a peeping Tom -- GRINS)! All is well with my kiddies and myself. Sebastian is growing up so quickly. He is talking more and more. He loves to ride on the pony. The pony that we have is great for halter leading. She isn't so great for the ride part. She hasn't sat a ride for three years or so and isn't so keen on being re-introduced to it. My son is not faint of heart and is getting our little lady used to things again. My home has turned into the sleep over capital of Maple Ridge (at least it feels that way). We seem to have somebody over every weekend. I shudder to think about what it will be like once my kids are on summer vacation. They only have a couple of weeks of school left. They are all excited about summer vacation.
Sasquatch - Sebastian would not mind your smell. He likes smelly stuff. I think it is you who would be put off by the stink of his little diapers (winks)!
Take care all.
Rachel
Rachel 7-6-2002 21:38
Gariess, positively hilarious description of the Barry Manilow coat hanger! I'll bet the jacket should have been left to that closet!
Heather 7-6-2002 20:28
MEL, take care and enjoy the time that you don't have to clean the house! At least, I certainly HOPE you aren't having to do that for the next while!
Heather 7-6-2002 20:20
At last, a cooler day. No rain in sight yet, last night was filled with dry lightning, and the poor fire fighters are still at it with new fires all over north of us where the lightning was. The fire that burned out Shields is still burning, I had an opportunity to visit with a couple of native American fire fighters today when I took the front tire from my lawn tractor up to have it repaired. They say it's very hot, very smoky work, and I don't doubt them a bit. They were happy though with the excellent pay that the State of North Dakota is giving them for their efforts. At last a state that does something right with the taxes they rep from workers pay checks.
At any rate, I used the cool morning to mow the lawn, finished after the trip to Cennex for the tire repair. Also got a few chores done that I've been putting off because of the heat.
Back to research.
Write ON!
Jerry 7-6-2002 12:35
Mel! So good to see you here. Take it easy, rest up, and no shinanigan's ya hear? (((HUGS)))
Viv, that's so sad.
Don't get too frustrated. Arranging repairs sucks as it is, let alone from overseas.
Must go. Jumping today..... =cD
Tina 7-6-2002 11:25
Robo-Mel:
Hope you are comfy and my best wishes for a speedy recovery.
Viv 7-6-2002 10:58
Howard:
I'm sorry I'm stuck this weekend. I'm going to try on that textbook around next week. We had a problem with our house in the States. The renters are moving after 11 years of keeping our house in beautiful condition. I'm doing logistics here to try to hire painters, coordinate moving date and find a new renter, find an airplane ticket back so I can be in the area to supervise the repairs. It's taking a lot of time I'd spend on my writing. Thanks for your patience and understanding this time around. Will get to it as soon as the major amount of the coordination is finished.
See you all when things are back in running order around this place.
Everybody pray for my little renter. She has cancer and has had to stop chemo because she couldn't take it anymore. What a time for her to move. She wanted her own house though and it's about time she has one. No one really wants to rent. Hopefully the cancer will go into remission and she'll spend a long happy time in her new home.
Viv 7-6-2002 10:57
thump...slip...clunk...
thump...slip...clunk...
this is robo-mel, reporting in...
(My hubby's nickname for me now)
thanks for all the good wishes and thoughts and prayers sent my way, everyone...
returned home yesterday...now the big job of recuperating ahead of me...
sitting on a high stool and trying to type with two fingers so I don't bend too far isn't easy...
I'll be lurking...it's great to hear you're all doing well... :-)
back to my walker...
thump (walker)...slip(foot of my operated leg)...clunk (the rest of me hopping to catch up)...
8-]
Mel 7-6-2002 10:12
Re Nanaimo, the diving community is aware of it as the location for several intentional wrecks that have been sunk there and have formed the focus for many a wreck diving certification in recent times. While the Cape Breton is too new to really sport that much life, it is still interesting.
Jack Beslanwitch Info about the wrecks
7-6-2002 2:38
Brain is fizzled. Make that the 'Strait' of Georgia!
Tina 7-6-2002 1:06
urg. Rain in the south, heat in the middle, wind in the north (here ;-) Can you say El Nino? Got winded out of jumping tonight. I'm hoping for calm skies tomorrow, and I'll jump then.
Nanaimo is not a BIG city, gariess, but big enough. Right on the Straight of Georgia, lots of ports, good seafood restaurants. More malls per capita than any other town in BC. Bit of a problem with asian gangs. Almost my whole family lives about 20 minutes south of Nanaimo in a sweet little town called Chemainus, so I've been there a lot. It's NOT a highlight of British Columbia. You have to come to the Okanagan, where I live, to find heaven on Earth! Except for the blasted wind.... :-p
Blue windless skies!
Tina 7-6-2002 1:05
RANDALL
Hey! TGIF!
After a major summer holiday my thoughts turn to Old Muckers, the yellow catfish who lives under the muddy waters of the Jim Ned creek. I wonder if he survived the pleasure boats cruising up the ‘Ned? July 4th is a water holiday around here. Everyone that can beg, borrow or steal a boat rushes to nearby Lake Brownwood to wade, swim, fish, float, ski ... and drink beer. Water craft range from flashy ski and fishing boats to a dozen truck inner tubes lashed together, covered with planks and beer soaked bodies. These homemade floating reminders to the surgeon general's warning are great fun. But about as easy to row as the Titanic one hour after Captain Smith tried to shave an iceberg.
As the Jim Ned empties into Lake Brownwood, a lot of boaters, who find their vision obscured by the bottom of a beer can often journey up the creek on a lark. Dangerous at best, dead tree snags that would make the Titanic ‘berg look like an ice cube are everywhere, openly visible and lurking unseen inches under the water. Not a summer goes by that someone does not lose a boat to stupidity and or beer. After a mile or so the ‘Ned gets real narrow and immense Pecan trees loom overhead and drape over the creek with branches the size of elephant legs. At this point nearly everyone turns around, except a few sun weathered, wrinkled old men in small "bayou" boats who have one thing on their mind .... Muckers and how to get him into a frying pan.
Muckers, a wily old yellow catfish calls the upper reaches of the muddy Jim Ned home. Older than Noah's father his size has been estimated to be a little more than a German Shepard but smaller than a Shetland pony. His length is basically unknown cause most people who have had an encounter with Muckers only comment on girth. "Big as a barrel!" State game and fish stats indicate his weight could go as high as 250 pounds. And that is mighty attractive to people who make a labor of love out of frying catfish.
"Why when that old Muckers rolled up on one side, I swear he was as big as a barrel. Durn near like to swamped the boat and broke that 200-pound trotline like grandmas sewing thread!"
Statements like this qualify any fisherman, if not a rookie, then at least an amateur. Catching Muckers on a string or twine or probably a logging chain is impossible. An old time fisherman named Harvey regaled me one time about an encounter with Muckers.
"Randy boy, ye knows I ain't no pond fisherman. Me and old Red Britches were up there on the Jim Ned one spring night many years ago. Way up on the watershed we was. There were snags as thick as weeds in a field and we had to duck and dodge pecan tree limbs that hung down to the water. Had us a brand new nylon trot line, nearly 50 triple hooks, wire leaders. Spent a week putting it together! We baited it with live shad, jumbo sized shrimp and the stinkiest blood bait the Almighty ever smelled! Anchored it real good and stretched it down alongside that section of the ‘Ned where the Pecan limbs nearly fall in the water."
"Red was with you Harvey?"
"Yeap. Begged to go in fact. Said he knew where Old Muckers was." Harvey chuckled and winked at me. "Durn fool, like to got his self drowned up there."
"What happened?"
"Well, was about midnight when them bells start a'clanging. You know the bells attached to our trot line. They shore did jangle that night. Sounded like that Hunchback fella ringing them church bells. We were camped on a sandbar, had our coal oil lamps burning, cooking a Mulligan stew on a fire. Red happened to find a bottle of wine in his overcoat so we was toasting the fine night airs."
"Bound for Red to have something to drink!"
"Ain't it the truth though! Never knew a man so in tune with fishing! Well, Red and I jumped in the boat quick like and paddled down to where the trot line was anchored on a tree root. Yes sir, in the light of that lantern I could see that new white line bouncing up and down in the water. We eased up to it. Just as I reached for it she stopped moving. I grabbed the line and pulled our boat around to it. Red was leaning over me, with the lamp in his hand as I started to run the trot line. Not a durn thing on the first dozen or so hooks. But I knew something was on it, been trot lining for 50 years on the ‘Ned and one knows when a big fish is hooked. Halfway through the trot line I seen something in the lamp light. Just under the water I seen what looked liked a log. A big old sunken yellow log. Looked like one of them old Pecan tree trunks washed down stream after a gully washer."
"Red, we got ourselves a log." I said pulling on the line. "Red held the lamp high and durn, you know if that log didn't have fins and a pair of beady eyes and a great big mouth! Well, Red hollered about the time old Muckers broached the surface. I swear a five-gallon bucket would have fit right in his mouth. Eyes like two eightballs. As big around as a whiskey keg, and madder'n a wet hen. You know when them old cats are mad Randy boy? That top fin on his back is stiff as a board and sticking straight up! You bet he were mad! Old Muckers had been going down the line sucking that bait off the hooks like it were a cafeteria line! One finally got him and he was one mad old yeller cat."
"What did you do Harvey?"
"Why hell son! That old yeller cat were longer than my boat! Weren't room for everyone in it! I reached for my knife to cut him loose when Red hollered, ‘No!' Then that darned old fool nearly capsized the boat as he reached down to stick his hand in Old Muckers mouth. Durndest fool stunt I ever seen! Told me later he was going to drag Muckers in the boat!"
"So what happened Harvey?"
Harvey grinned. "You mean before or after Muckers pulled Red into the water? Red managed to get one hand in his mouth. Along about then Old Muckers probably decided that Red needed a bath (as we all have) and took his 200 hundred pounds or so to the bottom. Course with a hand in Muckers mouth, 150 pound Red wasn't in a position to decline. Luckily I managed to cut the hook line as Red went overboard. Muckers splashed the boat real good with his tail, darn near sunk it, and that took care of the lantern. There was a full moon overhead, bright as noon, so I never lost sight of Red. Him and old Muckers were having a hellva a tussle in the water. Couldn't tell who was shaking who! I could tell right off by Red's hollering he wanted to let go real bad but Old Muckers were plenty mad. After several seconds Red finally managed to get to his feet and old Muckers took off for parts unknown. Red was in water up to his chest, spitting and sputtering. No sign of Muckers, probably figured Red wasn't as tasty as he looked!"
"What did Red say?"
Harvey laughed loudly and reached over to slap my leg. "Red asked me when we got back to camp why I didn't help? I said it looked like you were having a lot of fun splashing around in the water and all and why should I interfere! Red's arm looked like somebody had sandpapered it. Them old cats don't have teeth, just sandpaper like gums!"
"What did you'll do after that?"
"Well, we went back to camp and finished the stew. Red found another bottle of wine so we sipped on it as we floated back downstream. Not much else to do after that I reckon. Our trotline was hell and gone by then, no use hanging around. Got home just as the sun was coming up."
Old Muckers lays up there in the muddy Jim Ned creek and dreams fish dreams. He's backed into an underwater mud cave carved out with a powerful tail and broad head. Five feet under the surface Muckers lives an indolent life, eat, sleep, dream, eat, sleep, dream. Under a giant old Pecan tree, laid up between the roots, he naps and dreams, waiting for a tasty morsel to float by or another fool to stick a hand in his mouth. He's a solitary creature who pursues unknown desires in a time frame unfamiliar to us. I guess I don't really worry about Muckers. In his environment he is truly the big fish in those parts. Conversely, whether there are more than one old yellow cat up there dreaming catfish dreams, two or three, or four, all have given generations of men and boys around here something to talk and laugh about. Muckers is the toughest thing in the muddy waters of the Jim Ned creek. A legend.
Randall
Randall 7-6-2002 0:42
Jack mentioned Nanaimo in his recent post. Other than Vancouver, that's the only place in BC I ever heard of. That's the home town of Diana Krall, great jazz performer. Is it a significantly big place, I wonder? She studied in Boston at the Berklee school of music (where we used to sneak in and abuse the practice pianos when we were young, rowdy, and under the influence).
Speaking of Boston and things musical, last night was the annual performance of the Boston Pops Esplanade Orchestra. I love to see that every year on TV. I have a special attachment to the Stars and Stripes (my name being Sousa) which is always the concludung number of the Fourth Concert. I know this is a band march, but all the same when you add the woodwinds and the dozens of strings that a group like the Pops adds to the arrangement the texture becomes superior to any other treatment. The Pops draws it's musicians from the Boston Symphony Orchestra so there is no short changing at the talent level. The crowd loves it and they form a line on the grass in front of the Hatch Shell and for the final chorus of the Stars and Stripes. They then do a rousing but badly co-ordinated kick routine with legs going in all directions. I just love all those people who are so spirited as to endure heat wave weather and a long afternoon sitting in the sun (they let the crowd onto the Esplanade well in advance of the performance.) Of course the musicians performed heroically on the fourth day of a tropical heat wave. The Shell is not air conditioned and the air was as close as it can get to being warm water. If there were any fish in the Charles River they could have swum in among the people in the air, it was so humid.
Barry Manilow was among the performers. Somebody has got to feed this guy, he is positively cadaverous. His jacket doesn't know if he's wearing it or if it's still on the hanger. After perspiring a few grams I expected him to succumb to heat stroke.
Maureen McGovern was great.
I hope all of you had a great fourth.
gariess 7-5-2002 23:14
Thanks, I'll keep my eye out for them. Today is another scorcher with the temp now at 99F. I am sitting in my chair in front of the air conditioner, keeping cool. The wife who is a bit susceptible to infections when the air is too dry is in the kitchen, where the temp is a bit warmer as the dining room acts as a sort of buffer for the dry air.
Correction the weather bug says it is 100 degrees now.
I think I have found the trouble with my stupid computer. I went back to Ebay, and got another processor that the guy said is NEW. Put it in, nothing! Put the old one back in and all the computer would do is beep at me. Frustrated, I pulled all the cards and memory out and began replacing them one at a time, beginning with the memory. Put the first memory module in and it beeped, took it out and put the other in and all was well.
All this time fighting buying fans, compounds to cool the processor that I thought was sensitive to heat, when all the time it was one of the two new memory sdram's that was bad.
I guess the guy who sold me a NEW bad processor did me a favor. I haven't tried the new one back again since I found the bad ram, and I don't think I will as all is working now, and I don't want to give it another chance to go bad again. Oh I wondered when the guy who listed this new processor said he would not guarantee it, after all if it's new it should work right?
I think he lied, but I guess he isn't the first, and probably won't be the last. Think I will put together all these NEW items I have laying around that don't work and sell them as one lot of "NEW BROKEN computer parts" No sense in lying about it.
Jerry 7-5-2002 16:27
Hello all, sog, sog,
I was wrong. A soaking wet long-haired cat looks worse than a wet chicken. Smells pretty bad too. Grouchy too.
JERRY,
I'm keeping my fingers crossed that some of these storms will head north and help you out. They would just have to go straight up. Not like they would get lost. It rained from about 4:00am until 10:00am today. So far.
I'm getting worried about the river that is about 1/2 mile from here. They are evacuating towns down river and some of the neighbors have left at night but came back this morning. There wouldn't be a problem if we just jumped in the truck and went away for a day or so, but the horses, and other animals are another story. Couldn't just go off and leave them. Probably just worrying for nothing--the river has never left its banks in this area. Gravel companies have dug so much of the riverbed out, it's a lot deeper than it use to be.
Hope everyone else had a good holiday.
bye
Rosemary 7-5-2002 12:02
Send some of that rain up here! We are parched. The prairie is so dry that the fireworks display's across the area were all cancelled yesterday. The rangeland fire index has been in the extreme for over a week (That's the highest rating). In the extreme category, all off road travel is prohibited, smoking outside your home is prohibited (sure glad I stopped that destructive habit) fireworks are prohibited, all open burning are prohibited, you can't even have a grill lit, except in towns where water is available.
It got up to 99 yesterday, I was thankful that we went to mom's for the 4th celebration as she has central air, and we were able to be comfortable. When we got home, it was horrible in the house, but I knew that our little window air conditioner wouldn't cut through that heat, so we just turned on all the fans, and suffered through it. Sleep was difficult last night till way past midnight when it finally got cool enough to relax.
IT was over 80 this morning, we will turn on the air in about an hour, and it should keep it liveable in the living room.
This sort of heat is very unusual for our part of the country, and I can't recall a 4th where they banned fireworks. South Dakota is nearly famous for it's liberal fireworks policy, you can buy fireworks here that are banned in most other locations, including M80's and the old cherry bombs, you can get rockets large enough to compete with those used by cities, as well as the mortar type fireworks. To have it banned angered many, but even those who purchased fireworks before the ban kept the rather then shoot them off. It did do my heart good to see that level heads prevailed, what with all the fires in the area, nobody wanted to chance shooting them.
The fire that burned the town of Shields to the ground along with fifteen hundred acres of grass land was started by fireworks, and the Grizzly Gulch fire near Deadwood is still burning, but the pervading winds saved Deadwood from total destruction, only two or three homes were burned.
It rained within several miles of us over the past week three times, but all we got was the smell of rain, not a drop of it hit here. It's maddening to watch that weather radar showing thunderstorms approaching, the see them split and go around our town. Somebody must have angered the fellow upstairs or something.
Jerry 7-5-2002 10:58
If anyone wants to know more about Tanabata, here's a link.
http://www.jinjapan.org/kidsweb/folk/tanabata/tanabata.html
Viv 7-5-2002 9:43
Carol: I realized I sent Pommes by attachment rather than cutting and pasting. Will resend again. Oh Brother, I'm forgetful. I'm going to send it again on Saturday because right now I'm too full to go any further. It's 10:28 after a nice relaxing day with family. I have ANOTHER bunch of celebrations to go to this weekend. It's Tanabata here, the night we celebrate the star-crossed lovers. Their path meets in the heavens once a year. During this time we write our wishes and hang them on the bamboo trees. Also parades of shrines, and just parades in general and street fests. My students are all in a band marching in the parade in Hiratsuka. I want to go wave at them. Also the walk will do me good. I need to wear off this big meal I ate. But first I'm going to sleep on it.
Viv 7-5-2002 9:37
Burp! Delicious.
Viv 7-5-2002 9:29
Jack, that still isn't northern BC. :-) You'd have to drive a lot farther than 100km to reach our northern parts. ;-)
Viv, how were the ribs?
Tina 7-5-2002 1:03
Tina: Actually, Hornby is just east of Vancouver Island about half way up the east side. To get there you get to Nanaimo from Vancouver and then drive north about a 100 kilometers, take a ferry to Denman Island and then from Denman go to Hornby. We just did a dive today at Three Tree Point and learned that six gills had been cited there as well. Hopefully, at some point I will get to encounter these magnificent creatures down in Puget Sound as well.
As for sky diving, have fun. Having sky dived once, I decided not to become a sky diver. Glad you decided otherwise.
Jack Beslanwitch 7-4-2002 23:32
Up and at 'em. Gotta start ribs!
Viv 7-4-2002 19:25
Blub, Blub,
RANDALL,
We've had about 20 inches of rain since Saturday. I think they are thinking of cancelling the water restrictions.
My electricity went out twice the day before yesterday and again last night. Reprograming is getting to be a pain. Yesterday afternoon, the phone went out and didn't come back on until about an hour ago. The trains aren't even running. Tracks washed out between here and Uvalde. Talk about isolation.
MEL,
I know you are in pain, but you need to rouse yourself for just a moment and let us know how you are. ;-) Obviously we are all thinking about you.
Gotta go again,
bye
Rosemary 7-4-2002 17:37
Randall
Morning all....
FYI......From the NAVAJO-HOPI TIMES OBSERVER
PATRIOTISM'S PERMANENT HOME ON THE RESERVATION
By Suetopka Thayer, TC Media Team
"All through Indian Country on this Fourth of July, red, white and blue will be flying in various forms. As the original Landlords of America, natives have always had respect, pride and honor for the flag and what it symbolizes.
With the devastating New York event this past September and the mass destruction and senseless deaths of thousands of civilians in our own home country, this particular Fourth of July and its meaning of Independence is just that much more significant to native residents still living in their original homelands.
The bonding and support that came after the September 11th crisis for most Americans is what can be found on a daily basis in any native community.
Communal support, group events to assist others, families working together to achieve or accomplish a larger goal is still alive and thriving despite what is generated through the news about poor economic conditions, lack of opportunities and services and remote living situations.
What larger America doesn't realize is that natives do not count their wealth in terms that are monetary or material. We value culture, tradition, our languages, our children and our elders, our homelands and each other.
The respect for the flag comes from our family members who have served in America's armed forces to defend this country and our way of life on our reservations, and particularly for our family members who were lost in these wars defending other citizens of this country who would just as soon see us wiped out and silenced.
That we can and have survived our own war of oppression here in America is a tribute to native adaptability, which is one of our greatest strengths. And for this we salute the flag and the true meaning of this Independence Day."
Thought this definition of Independence Day to be worth notice.
Randall
Randall 7-4-2002 12:00
**Taylor**
I am the only one who has problems with names?
Oh that can't be good
Taylor 7-4-2002 11:16
Here is a good little app. if you have ever been stuck for names of Fantasy/Historical character names.
Ed
Eddie EverChanging Book of Names
7-4-2002 10:23
Here are the results of the poll I put up on my Home Page
Interesting Results.
What is the most difficult aspect of writing for you?
Character Development? 1.......... (4%)
Plot Development? 5............... (20%)
Character Names? 1................ (4%)
Choosing a title? 0............... (0%)
Re-starting a stalled Work? 10.... (40%)
Getting Started? 5................ (20%)
Other? 3.......................... (12%)
Eddie Simply Writing
7-4-2002 10:17
Carol: I sent Pommes this morning before I went to work. Hope you got it. Just in case I'll send it again after I read your Earth tomorrow morning.
Someone send me some barbequed ribs! I've got a grill, I've got access to ribs...but I'm too busy to grill them. I'm hungry for them right now and it's 10:48 PM! Had to work all day and I just figured out it's the 4th of July. My stomach is saying...oooooh ribs! Oh well, tomorrow is your 4th of July. I'll cook them starting at about 8:00 tomorrow morning! Ooooooooh hungry NOW! Must EAT!!!!!
Viv 7-4-2002 9:56
Mel,
This is a 'Get Well Soon' Card.
GET WELL SOON!
Best Wishes,
Ed
Eddie 7-4-2002 6:32
**Taylor**
Happy 4th of July people... And hope you all have a great day and enjoy it to the max... Have fun for all us Aussies as well :-)
Taylor 7-4-2002 0:49
Randall
Evening!
What weather we're having! Rained all day. One town west of us had 4" this morning in 2 hours!!! One guy told me it was like watching a million 5 gallon buckets emptied all at one time 10' off the ground! Daytime temps in the 70's lows in the 60's! Not Texas weather for July. I guess we should enjoy the moderation, while we have it.
This may not be as bad as where Rosemary is, San Antonio. Or is that Lake San Antonio, Rosemary? :-) It's a lot of water for a couple of hours! Supposed to be about over, but who knows.
Let's pray that we can get through tomorrow without an incident and our countrymen killed. Happy Birthday America!!
Randall
Randall 7-3-2002 23:20
hehehehehe... wet chickens... what an image, Rosemary!
It's funny, but I'm entirely ready to leave this place. I'm starting to wonder if I have a 'four year itch'. I always get tired of where I'm at after about four years. Yes, it's unique, and nice, and a great view, but it's also expensive (by our standards at least) Time for us to downsize to something more managable, both in terms of time and money. Can't wait for it to sell.
Cheri, do pop in more often! What is your business?
Mel, //////GOOD VIBES\\\\\\ and (((HUGS))) coming your way. Take it easy!
Jack, it sounds as if you are as obsessed by diving as I am by skydiving. Ain't it grand? It's like a whole new life to live, without the pains of puberty! Glad Hornby delivered all you hoped for. But... Uhm, Hornby is not in northern BC. Not even close to northern BC. It's in the south end of the Strait of Georgia. If you want north you need to go way farther. *For all non-Canadian notebookers, this means that he did not see polar bears, seals, or sled dogs! ;-D
TTFN!
Tina 7-3-2002 20:17
A Soggy (gurgle, gurgle)hello to all,
The above was a reference to the fact that we just got most of our years' allowance of rain. Low areas evacuated, eighteen wheelers washed off the freeway, the whole ten yards of suspense and terror.
My only problem was that my roof now leaks. Also the camper top on my truck leaks. Actually, I was wondering why it hadn't leaked before now. Probably because it didn't rain in the right amounts before.
San Antonio had just gone into stage one water restrictions on Friday. It started raining Saturday and didn't stop until early this morning. My sister's place flooded downstairs (as usual) It's almost a porch type area, but closed in. Hard to explain. We bought a steam cleaner a number of years ago, mostly for that purpose. It sucks the water out of the carpet. Luckly the pad is almost nonexistant and the temperature should be back into the ninety's by tomorrow. That should provide the steam.
MEL,
Hope everything went smoothly and you are laying around recouperating.
TINA,
Loved the piks of your house. Great views. Must be hard to give such a unique place up.
JERRY,
I didn't know the Dakota's got so hot. Both extremes, super cold now super hot. Sheesh. Of course, we go from really dry to completely soaked. I guess extremes are not overly unusual.
Got to go now.
At least we got clean ducks for a change. Wet chickens are really ugly.
Bye,
Rosemary 7-3-2002 19:38
Hi all!!
MEL: Thanks for the sites for kids writing. My daughter has been bugging me about it since I told her, but we only have one PC and we use it for my business stuff and bill paying.
Hope you are feeling well after your surgery and hope to see you here again soon.
Now I'll go back to lurking. It's what I'm best at.
Cheri 7-3-2002 17:16
Hi Viv - No, I didn't get the last installment of Pommes in your email. Send it on again and I'll send you Earth again. I do wish I knew why we have so many problems with our two computers talking to each other.
I've got a big day of taking care of the household matters today. Pay bills, get the dogs their food, stop at the library, post office -- all that good stuff. I'll be disappearing this weekend. The paternal side of my family is having a get-together with many of the long-distance cousins showing up this time. One cousin was diagnosised with Lupus years ago, so I must talk to her. Another has been researching our famous ancestor and will be bringing his research with him. I can't wait to see all of those goodies either. It's been fifteen years since I've seen a number of these people. It will be a lot of fun.
Hello to everyone else. :)
Carol 7-3-2002 12:49
I have been receiving virus infected email from the following address: jbarban@interhop.net anyone recognize it? I don't, but just trying to trace down who's computer has my email address and has been infected.
Thanks.
Jerry 7-3-2002 10:19
Thanks Howard:
I have the prospectus, the detailed table of contents and two or three chapters about ready to go. I'll check it over again Friday. A quick look over and advice would be nice. I've talked to the guy at Oxford, he was the one to say give it a try. I'd really value your opinion and your editing this time around.
Carol: The same goes for you if I'm not being too overwhelming. Your input on Pommes is a real help. I hope you got my latest and I'm waiting on yours as well. Pommes is my stress breaker and I love it. That last suggestion was wonderful.
Viv 7-3-2002 9:14
Almost too tired to think straight. Got back from Hornby around two this morning. That after two one hundred plus foot dives morning and afternoon. The morning dive we got up close and personal with about a twelve foot six gill shark. Amazingly beautiful and awe inspiring. My only regret is that somewhere in the plunge down the wall that got us to eighty feet the video camera got turned off. Just got around fifteen seconds of the six gill finning slowly away off into the distance. Still, seeing it is going to be one of the high points in my experience as a diver. BTW, just realized in filling out the form for Hornby Island Divers that, yes, I have done over ninety dives. What was a surprise when the question was asked. over seventy of those were done since last September. And most of them were cold water. Well, off to bed. Take care and I will archive sometime in the next day or so. Too tired and too afraid I would somehow blow it. Take care everyone.
Jack Beslanwitch 7-3-2002 2:55
I am still working on the research for my long story. The more I read, the more I search the web, the more frightening these people become.
There is such hatred in their beliefs, there is a little bit of truth in their writings, but it is hidden so deep beneath the hate that it is nearly invisible.
There seems to be a political arm of their loose knit organization, their sites are much softer, the hate is hidden much deeper, the little truths become headlines, and buried beneath the little bits of truth are volumes of fiction well placed so as to be seen as more truths if that makes any sense.
I am beginning to believe that the gist of my story may not in fact intermesh with the true nature of the beasts, although I think I can hide the grinding gears amongst the noise of the story.
Some of the sites are so bad that I view them only when alone because I wouldn't want anyone to see what is on my screen for fear that they think me a part of it, or associate me with it.
Seeing what they are like only gives me more cause to write my little story, if only to call attention to what is going on behind closed doors here now, as our brave soldiers lay their lives on the line so we can continue to be free. So these hate mongers can go on with their speeches, their assault on the freedom of those who's only crime is the color of their skins.
Jerry 7-3-2002 0:41
VIV -- I'd suggest Mark as well, if he's not too busy. He's the teacher around here -- compared to him I'm "bush league."
howard 7-2-2002 23:27
VIV -- Dunno about "hair trigger," but English was my goodest subject in high schol. I'll be glad to take a look at you're book...
:-)
howard 7-2-2002 23:09
Hi Everyone! It's too busy time around here.
Howard: Thanks for the second Red Skeleton with the transcript. I'm going to start trying to memorize it too. Hana can do it from what she hears, but I can't. I need to see the words to learn them. I was going to sit down and write them myself, but uffff!
Anyway, now I can check if Hana got all the words! Whew! a time saver just when I needed it.
Howard, I'm scared to do something and I think you have the skills I need. You have a hair trigger sense of grammar and spelling. Would you look over a textbook proposal for me. I'm a little scared. First time I've done this all by myself. You have a hair trigger sense of grammar and spelling. I'll check it first so it should be minimal failure, but I want it really perfect. It will be ready on Sunday.
Carol: Did you get the bit of Pommes? I didn't get yours so could you send it again. I think it didn't attach. I had a tough time doing Pommes this time but I think that idea of yours really helps. I am not sure I carried it off long enough. Does it need more or should I keep the first glimpse of Sarah short?
Heather: I'll pull out Debts and take a second look on Friday.
Allein: Still looking...are you out there? PLEASE LET ME HEAR FROM YOU SOON! Want to get back those long overdue covers for your CD! Hana sent the translations, did you get them. Also she wants to work with her buddy James and get you more music in Japanese. She's not fond of it herself but James has quite a few CD's.
Viv 7-2-2002 22:36
Christi! Great to see you too. I've got the original of 'Stranger Than Fiction', just need the revised STF. (Just makin' sure).
;o>
Heather Hemlock Bags
7-2-2002 18:08
Carol - anything you add is not small in any way!
Great to see you here!
Howard, that is too cool. I'm pretty sure if I dug around deep down in my garden, all I'd find would be mud! ;o)
Heather 7-2-2002 18:06
Hi All :)
I can't believe I've missed so many days of poking my head in here. Heat and humidity really do a number on me. Today is still very warm, but the humidity level seems a little lower. Hopefully storms will arrive tonight to water the garden and cool us all off. I've actually managed to copy and save all the posts to work on off-line for the first time ever! Yipee! Now I can read and respond without worrying about getting bumped and losing all my hard work. hehehehe
Randall -- I just finished reading through and making comments on Flowers - check that email now. :)
Mel -- My best wishes regarding your surgery.
Litter -- I know the feeling of being behind on everything -- I only wish I had a consulation prize as you do in the form of writing accomplished. Congrats on getting so much writing done!
It's rather hard to respond individually to all the other posts in regards to categorizing fiction or to the posts regarding Native American living. In a nutshell, while categories have been standard for many, many years, there are numerous best-selling authors today who defy a pigeon hole defination. There are classics that defied the pigeon holes of their day. There will always (I hope) be controversy over this. On the one hand you have the purist who wishes to see the tradition of the art continued and refined. On the other hand, you have the excited teen-ager who has to defy convention and try something completely new. Both have a place in our world and a very real value. We have to know our past in order to understand our future and dream of what can be. I value reading the greats of yesterday and the newcomers of today. Each of us, as writers, tend to write what we know and what we admire, combining the two into a magic all its own. I say hurray for the diversity of this board and its writers.
Now, to see what I can add in my own small, small way. :)
Carol 7-2-2002 17:27
Jerry, I read that story you wrote for shortie night a few weeks back and wanted to let you know how fantastic your writing was in it. Great job all the way around!
Christi 7-2-2002 15:01
Christi
GOOD LUCK, MEL! Take it easy on yourself for a while, y'hear?
Randall, Thanks for askin'. The fires are becoming more and more contained as the days pass. The area burned so far is larger than the whole of Los Angeles. The Apache Indians took a big hit on this--at last count they'd lost half a billion in timber, though I haven't heard how many homes/businesses. Turns out that a reservation firefighter may be to blame for starting the main fire. He's been arrested and is said to have started the blaze because he needed the money and wanted to get paid for working the fire, never knowing how out of control it would get. He got his wish; he was one of the first called in to fight it. What a world.
400 + homes and businesses have burned, though the firefighters were able to save most. And now I'm sick of fire talk, oh yes I am. :)
Heather, Great! I'll whoosh STF straight over to ya. Glad to see you're back!
Tina, I love your house! It's just gorgeous.
Hi, Litter! I'm behind in being behind, so don't feel bad. Great news on the novel!
Don't have much to say; gotta run and put the child to bed for a nap and get to work on my novel. It's starting to get exciting.
Christi 7-2-2002 14:59
Hi all!
Howard, Salmon Arm is about 40 minutes north of here. Lovely little town, very artsy with a kick-butt folk and blues festival every year. Yes the whole area is spectacular, although it gets very dry to the south. We're already on water restrictions, and the flood alert just ended!
Painting is done, now for the carpets... Almost ready! Yay!
Blue skies!
Tina 7-2-2002 12:39
HEATHER -- I took it to a museum and compared it with several on display, then I saw a special on out PBS station that was done here, tracing the history of this area. THey showed some artifacts dated several thousand years (they said) BC, and some of the arrowheads looked exactly like the one from my garden.
There were lots of Indian settlements in this area, and we live near enough to the river that there were likely some living right here.
A friend of mine was plowing his cornfield a few years ago -- a field near the Chenango River. He looked back to see the furrow and noticed he'd run into something strange. He stopped and went back, and rooted around in the furrows until he unearthed several skulls and other bones, some pottery, flint tools, and other items. He very carefully covered everything back up and worked around it. He refuses to tell anyone where it is, and let the whole field go to pasture so that no one would disturb it. I know approximately where it is (within a hundred or so square acres), but promised him that I would not try to locate it.
Others have found (and exploited) several local burial sites over the years.
howard 7-2-2002 10:03
Mark - Didn't the Europeans just dub anyone a savage that happened to live on land the Europeans wanted to claim for themselves? Well, I suppose there were a few other requirements: The 'new land' must be seen as being improperly exploited. The 'savages' must be small enough in number, or 'backward' enough not to have weaponry that could outdo the European weaponry, and there must be somewhere to shove a European flag?
Thanks for the heads up on the editing!
:oD
Howard - VERY COOL - where have you taken the arrowhead to have it dated?
Greetings
and goodbye for the moment,
Heather 7-2-2002 9:52
TINA -- Beautiful! Nice job on the page too! That certainly is beautiful country up there. My son-in-law was just up that way on a job -- in Salmon Arm. I guess that's a bit to the north of you. He sent a couple of pictures of the area, and really liked it.
howard 7-2-2002 7:06
Thanks Deb! I hope many other people (read: buyers) like it too! We aren't moving far. In fact, we don't have anything lined up yet. Don't know if we'll buy again (smaller) or rent, but if we sell fast we will likely spend the summer in our tent trailer =c) For now, we both have decent jobs here, and I'm jumping here, and Troy is doing metalwork here, so we won't move out of town. For now. ;-)
Blue skies!
Tina 7-2-2002 0:40
Randall - I do know what you mean, about the lifestyle, it does sound like the way to live, until you factor in the fact that their entire existence evolved around the presence of game, which was so very available till the white man came in and slaughtered them by the thousands. (Bison that is) The last great buffalo hunt took place about ten miles west of where I sit at this very minute. There is a large brown sign alongside the highway explaining the whole thing.
Deadwood has suffered a bit of a loss, only a few homes, but that's a few families who have lost it all. Not as bad as Shields which, by the way, is on the reservation. I grew up just a few miles from the reservation border, well for the first ten years or so.
Around here the Indians were looked down upon by most who knew them. My dad, however treated them as he would treat anyone, and I had a great uncle who was a squaw man (well they used to call him a squaw humper) but he dated Indian ladies who came to call because he always kept a couple of bottles of wine, (and rubbing alcohol for the ones he didn't care that much for).
Mom to this very day is terrified of Indians, the farm where she grew up was just a mile from the reservation and she had many frightening experiences with the Indians.
I think the reason they were considered so low when I was growing up was the fact that nearly all the Indians here in town were alcoholics, and could be found in the alleys passed out. I recall a fellow named Noah Has Horns, who froze to death in the doorway of the Trading Post, a small store a block off Main Street. As a peace officer, I found them easier to handle then most white drunks, the majority of them welcomed a night in the crow bar motel, it was warm, had clean sheets, and a free (mandatory) shower. We also furnished them with clean cloths when we let them go (donated by the Ladies Aides).
The last city I worked was just south of the Devils Lake Sioux reservation, these were a bit different Indians (they say each tribe has it's own ways, and I agree). We didn't have the drunk problem, or at least not on so grand a scale as here, but there were some horrendous crimes on the reservation, one that comes to mind happened when after a night of drinking, several young braves decided to get even with the whites. Unable to find a white man, the grabbed a retired tribal cop, beat him nearly to death, then ran over him so many times parts of his body were scattered over nearly a mile of the highway.
You may say that they have every right to be angry, and I would agree, right now the Indians in this area are suing the state trying to get ownership of the man made lake just south of town, where we camp because an old treaty promised them the land bordered by the Grand River, well the lake is fed by both the north and south Grand river. Only thing is that the treaty was superseded by another (this after the Custer Battle at Little Big Horn river in Montana), the new treaty set the boundaries much further east, where the reservation is now located.
There is a fine Indian casino about a hundred miles from here, but you won't find anyone from here using the facilities (well almost none there are the confirmed gamers who refuse to go along with the crowd) because of this suit.
What they fail to take into consideration, I think is the fact that they are a defeated people, and that because of that fact, treaties that were granted, then broken by both sides are no longer valid, much like common law, the last treaty stands as valid.
Jerry 7-2-2002 0:36
**Taylor**
On Blackhawk Down: That was a powerful movie, but also very hard to watch it. I found myself almost in tears after a few scenes.
Sorry for my absence... How is everyone doing? Sorry to hear about the bushfires and especially to hear about a firefighter being arrested over the one in Arizona
Taylor 7-1-2002 23:53
I saw BLACKHAWK DOWN. Awesome movie. Before we were a half-hour into it, the whole audience was quiet. I remain amazed that no scene elicited a single, "Wow, look at that!" or a derisive, "Yeah, right." Just silence. At times I felt like I was witness to a bad accident, you know what I mean? A scene you want to turn away from, but can't help yourself, you keep looking? I usually take people from the house with me. Gordy, who always says, "It was a movie," simply said "mmm" when asked if he liked it. Jean, who sat with a friend she spotted there, said "we were crying, were you crying?"
On Native Americans: The Noble Savage is an idea with a long history (especially since some people still hold it). Europeans had some funny ideas about people who lived 'close to Nature' and adhered to 'natural' codes of conduct. That was the theory. In practice the Noble Savage was always the Savage over the next hill, across the next ocean. The native inhabitants who greeted European travelers somehow always turned out to be savage savages. Montaigne used South American natives he never met as examples of nobility in nature. Swift used Polynesian natives in "A Modest Proposal" where he elevated cannabalism to nobility and suggested the English should practice more of it (on the Irish, of course).
HEATHER -- work under way.
Mark 7-1-2002 23:26
BTW RANDALL -- and anyone else interested -- check on http://home.stny.rr.com/htuckey/
and look at the pix of the arrowhead we found a while ago in my garden. We had thought it to be 1200-1500 years old, but now we have reason to believe that it's much older than that.
howard 7-1-2002 23:14
TEEKAY -- Where'dya go?
RANDALL -- I too was enamored of the Indian lifestyle when I was a kid. I guess I read "Last of the Mohicans" five or six times, and any other book of Indian lore and history as well. I even made a tomahawk, that I learned to throw well enough to kill a rabbit or two, and skinned, cooked, and ate them down in the old stone quarry on the back forty on the place where I grew up. I made several bows, none of them very respectable, and a spear or two.
If you want to get a pretty accurate idea of the eastern tribes, read Allan W. Eckert's "The Winning of America" series. "Wilderness Empire" is set in the area where I live, and has as its main character William Johnson, who was an adopted Mohawk, and who sat in many of their councils. "The Frontiersmen" is the parallel story of Tecumseh and Simon Kenton, and is my favorite. The account of the New Madrid earthquake is enough to make your hair stand on end! The whole series is extensively researched and foot-noted, with sources clearly cited.
I'd recommend any of Eckert's work, but especially this series.
After I read "The Frontiersman" I happened to pass through Xenia, Ohio, on our way out to take our daughter to college. I took a wrong turn, and had to back into a small parking lot to turn around. As I did, I noticed one of those "historical site" markers and stopped to read it. Turns out that the cabin behind the marker was the actual Galloway cabin, that belonged to a family befriended by Tecumseh, and who were under his explicit protection. Talk about goosebumps!
As I said, I'd highly recommend any of Eckert's books.
howard 7-1-2002 22:48
Tina:
WOOOOOOW!
I was the first one in. What a tour. You have a beautiful home!
Where are you hoping to go?
Debra 7-1-2002 22:47
Hi all!
To everyone dealing with fires, (((HUGS))) We had our bout of forest fires 4 summers ago, and it got very ugly. At one point we had three bad fires nearby, and visibility was about 50 meters. People lost homes, livelihoods... nasty.
Randall, that kind of simplicity is so very tantalising. My hubby and I used to talk about disappearing into the bush for a couple years, just to experience it. Nowadays I wouldn't mind being a skydiving bum, living at the dropzone in my tent trailer with my rig and computer. (sigh) Then reality kicks in. I like my toys and books and internet too much. ;-)
Hey, I finished the website for selling our house. I put the link below... hope it works. Anyone who wants to check it out and give me input, please go for it! And if anyone wants a nice home in the Sunny Okanagan... I know of a great place for sale... ;-)
Back to painting...
TTFN
Tina my house page
7-1-2002 22:20
Randall
Hi Jerry!
Gee! You must have been sitting on the machine to post that quickly. :-) Yes a missing squad car would be a great loss.
Jerry, I guess I miss the freedom that NA's had. I read once that Native Americans practiced the only true form of democracy on this continent. As you know our government is a republic, not a democracy. However, that is why the NA's fared so badly in the Indian wars. After the Little Big Horn, instead of advancing against the white soldiers, most simply went home. Or fled to Canada. There were enough different tribes together at that time with thousands of and well armed warriors, they could have punished the soldiers for invading the Black Hills, part of their territory. Where would we be if the NA's had a George Patton? Still, Red Cloud, a true tactician devastated the white calvary of George Fetterman with a classical sucker ‘em in and ambush everybody. But I digress. :-)
I realize that they had intertribal conflicts and bloody battles over turf and horses. But there were tribes who lived together and traded peacefully. I am basically a lazy person, who hates to live within the guidelines of Anglo-Saxon work ethic. The idea of hunting and fishing and camping out without having to commute to work and worry over money problems and taxes and all that concern us today ... is awful appealing to me.
Randall
Randall 7-1-2002 21:33
Randall
One more thing....
I have written of reading song lyrics. This is arguably the best, though ELUSIVE BUTTERFLY is excellent.
GENTLE ON MY MIND
Performed by Glen Campbell
Written by John Hartford
It's knowing that your door is always open,
and your path is free to walk,
that makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag
rolled up and stashed behind your couch.
And it's knowing I'm not shackled
by forgotten words and bonds
and the ink stains that have dried if on some line,
that keeps you in the backroads by the rivers of my mem'ry
that keeps you ever gentle on my mind.
It's not clinging to the rocks and ivy
planted on the columns now that binds me,
or something that somebody said
because they thought we fit together walking.
It's just knowing that the world will not be cursing
or forgiving when I walk along some railroad track
and find that you are moving on the backroads
by the rivers of my mem'ry
and for hours you're just gentle on my mind.
Randall
And yes, I'm just like a kid who wants to share. :-)
Randall 7-1-2002 21:06
Randall - I can understand that, but your truck doesn't have a 12 gauge shotgun on the dash, red lights and a siren, and an interceptor engine; and if your truck goes missing, some mechanics will have to wait for parts, when the squad is missing, someone could die waiting for help. It does make a difference.
Also the American Indian may have lived in this fine land before we got here, but they weren't living in peace and tranquility, they went to war between the tribes and nations, much as the European's went to war in their time. It is easy to think of them as a wonderful peaceful society, but you do have to open your eyes to the fact that they, like ourselves have tempers, and the desire for the property of others.
Jerry 7-1-2002 20:53
Randall
Hey!
Mary, and Viv you understand I was exploring the politically correct mentality. Didn't you? (Grin) My tongue was firmly in cheek!
Jerry, I nearly always leave our delivery pickup unlocked and running as I deliver parts. My boss told me one time. "If anyone is dumb enough to steal that piece of junk, with NAPA painted all over it...let ‘em have it. Its insured!"
Howard, yes and I love BC. A great cartoon. (Long pause) And I don't know why the brave are on reservations. When I think of the billions and billions of dollars we send countries that basically hate us and steal the money...it makes me sick. A lot of my friends are telling me I should watch BLACKHAWK DOWN. I can't cause I know that our boys were killed for a so-called rescue mission, a humanitarian mission to Somalia. BS. Those boys were killed over a bunch of people not much more than animals. And I'll leave that alone.
There are Native Americans desperate for so many things I/we take for granted. When I was just a boy I read THE LIGHT IN THE FOREST (later a movie.) I wanted to be an Indian so bad I ate my meals sitting on the floor, and slept on the floor "Indian style". Mom and dad humored me and left me alone and I soon returned to the table and bed. When we consider all things, it is possible that the North American continent WAS a Garden of Eden, before the settlers arrived from Europe. It didn't take the materialistic Anglo-Saxons long to screw that up!!!
At one time I possessed a short story that an Indian reportedly wrote. It said that white men were crazy because they killed buffalo that would furnish them meat, plowed under natural grass, to plant foreign crops that were hard to grow, worked for a living when nature would provide, ... so many other sayings I can't remember them all. Pretty sad.
Good luck Mel!!!!
Randall
Randall 7-1-2002 20:45
Mr. Croll??? I'm confused... But I've just been watching 'Fight Club' and I don't know who I am anymore.
Litter, Maybe? 7-1-2002 19:06
Hi All!
Where does the time go? I’m behind with my magazines. I’m behind with my reading, both fiction and non-fiction. I’m behind with my email, this forum, life, the universe, and everything… But I did get a shit-load of writing done yesterday.
My murder-mystery novel, which had been playing hard to get, just lost its virtue and gave it all up in one glorious burst of inspiration. All I have to do now is join up the dots. Wheeeeeeeee!
But I see that this place is just as active. Now for a rummage to see what’s happening.
All good things,
Litter 7-1-2002 18:42
Where are my manners, Mel, good luck with the new hip, it's a piece of cake, mom had a knee replaced a couple of years ago, and she is so very happy with the results, the pain that had been bothering her for nearly fifty years was gone, and she now walks on her tredmill for forty minutes a day, not bad for 75 years old.
Jerry 7-1-2002 17:01
For those interested in the fire in the Black Hills, here's a link.
There was another fire yesterday, it was a prairie fire, and took out 7500 acres of grassland, as well as the town of Shields North Dakota. None of the 18 residents were injured, as they had been evacuated, it also came within yards of the town of Porcupine ND, but thanks to the valiant effort of the firemen, that town was saved.
The Governor's of both states have called for a ban on fireworks (which started the Shields Prairie Fire), and to tell the truth, I think I've only heard one short blast of firecrackers last night, none today, so it appears level heads prevail in this drought.
Jerry Deadwood Fire Report
7-1-2002 16:59
Best of luck MEL
See you in a few days.
Ps.
I bagsie the PC
Eddie 7-1-2002 11:01
HAPPY BIRTHDAY CANADA!
Mel, you'll come through like a trouper. IMHO, recovery is as much a matter of determination as it is of medical intervention. You have the drive to get through it, thus, you will!
Randall, I speak the truth =c) Believe in it!
Blue skies!
Tina 7-1-2002 10:47
VIV -- And all else interested - that Red Skelton "Pledge of Allegiance" piece is available in a very nice presentation at
http://www.brattyamanda.com/pledge.html
You can hear the actual sound clip as well as read the text of the piece.
It's very nice!
howard 7-1-2002 10:18
*Mel*
Good morning to each and everyone of you! :-]
LITTER: Never mind. HOWARD explained Mr. Croll. I don't dare ask about the "bouncy bits!"
HOWARD: "Chri-Fi' -- yup. Sounds inevitable. Don't forget Chri-Sci-Fi. How about romantic Chri-Sci-Fi (Ro-Chri-Sci-Fi? or Chri-Ro-Sci-Fi?) And I get to purchase/shelve them. (New shelf labels. New budget lines. Re-write the catalogers' how-to-catalog books book.) A librarians' work is never finished. ;-]
RANDALL: And a special shelving area for great novels with lots of Native American lore in them, SO much in them that some readers will wonder: is this fiction or nonfiction? Oh, who cares?? It's a GREAT story!!! :-] (Keep 'em coming, RANDALL!)
JERRY: I've been to Deadwood! 1966 or 1973, can't remember for sure - I was just a kid. I thought Deadwood was a very interesting-looking town! Hope the fires don't take it.
TINA: Thanks for thinking of me. :-)
VIV: New York City might shadow Tokyo a bit but the REST of New York State is TOTALLY different...rolling hills, many rural towns, some large or medium-sized cities scattered across the state... lots of libraries and cultural stuff everywhere. :-) Come visit, by all means!!
GS: I LOVE Billy Joel's music! :-]
Well, my writing friends, I want to thank you again for sharing so frequently your vast resources of inspiration, humor, compassion, and downright friendly selves here on JACK's Notebook. You have filled me with new energy so many times I've lost count!!! :-)
Tomorrow morning is my hip joint surgery, so I have oodles of things to do at home today, errands to run, while I still can, laundry and ironing, books to stack for summer reading, move my bed downstairs for my six-weeks-on-a-walker recuperation period... Still have my mental blinders on, regarding certain aspects of surgery and recuperation, i.e. all the things that could go wrong...I'm keeping myself distracted as best as possible, and I thank you for having helped me to do so.
A solitary fleeting thought nags me, so I'll speak it before I re-secure my mental blinder: should something happen to take me early from this world, I want you all to know I have a TON of writers' resources at home (mostly from the Writers' Digest Book Club) and all my writing notes and mss. also... I would want all of you to have them, share them, use whatever bits of creative inspiration you could find in my writings or my books, as my thanks to you for sharing your writing thoughts and aspirations with me. HOWARD and TINA and BEN have my home address; all of you have my heart.
I am replacing that mental blinder now, as it's too painful and scary to leave off. I have many things planned for my future, things that start with a new hip joint and being able to move again more freely. Freedom, right now to me, means the precious breath of life, the ability to walk any short distance, the chance to talk with friends. And most of all, freedom means the on-going opportunity to lay my cares in the hands of my Lord and Savior God; I'm trusting Him to get me through this operation and recuperative time, so I can do whatever He asks of me in future.
I may get the