lanewillson

Being no means qualified is not enough to stop me from making a recommendation. Though millions had read Maya Angelou’s words by the time I heard of her in 1992, the political nature of my introduction to her was sadly reason enough to keep me from her work for another 21 years. Now to those whose knowledge of Dr. Angelou is far superior to mine I have a suggestion. Listen to her first acclaimed autobiography “I know Why the Caged Bird Sings”, and though I don’t think there is another version, make sure you to the book read by Dr. Angelou herself. Had I read “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” I would have enjoyed it, and been appreciative of Dr. Angelou’s great writing. But hearing her words come from her voice propelled by her heart left me moved and in awe. I know many more open hearts been moved by her words for decades, and although I’m slightly embarrassed by my ignorance, I am quite glad to have erased it. I don’t recall exactly how I came to chose to read this book. I know I had read something James Baldwin had written about her, and that may have been all it took to search the library. The instant I heard her voice I could not let go of her story until I reached its end. About 8 or so hours in length, I listened in two sessions while home under the weather. Dr. Angelou’s writing did not cure me, but she certainly inspired me.For quite some time I have believed that one of the proofs of Jesus divinity are African-American folk who have recognized His Love despite its introduction coming from the very same folks that introduced them to tyranny, pain, and slavery. The blending of her words and voice allowed me to hear that Love that has remained despite all the evil Dr. Angelou faced. It is what allowed her to offer grace, even though justice was needed. She never ceases her quest to justice, but it is not a prerequisite for her grace. I think this is in large part because even when she is holding a mirror allowing injustice to be seen, she never denies her sharing of the human condition – a need for grace. By not allowing the message of Love to be eclipsed by its often evil messenger, Dr. Angelou enables all of us, bearers of pain and creators alike, to see the truth that there is indeed grace to be had.

ThunderstruckThunderstruck is the first work Erik Larson’s that I have felt like lacked…well, thunder. Mr. Larsen is one of a hand full of non-fiction writers, along with Jon Meacham, Alex Kershaw, and Laura Hillenbrand, whose writing stood out to me in the past year. In fairness to Mr. Larson, it is quite possible that I’m suffering from literary transference. Every time Marconi’s name came across my mind, it was quickly chased away by Jefferson Airplane/ Jefferson Star ship/Starship/ Jefferson Pensioner’s “We built this city” apparently on very bad rock and roll. Even with Grace Slick’s imaginary mind control, the ending of the book did show some of the same tension and suspense I enjoyed in his other works.

I think in part my rating of the book was, at least in part, because I was blown away by the character of President Garfield. This was compounded by the fact that I knew so little about him before reading this book. That being said, the connection of the stories of President Garfield and his assassin was weak at best, and completely falls apart before the stories conclude.

“Women are not equal to men.” Or at least you would think that’s the message of Sheryl Sandberg’s new book “Lean In” based on the chorus of apoplectic harmony sung by the New York Time’s Maureen Dowd, and the Pat Schroeder Times Square Tap Team.A quick bit of self-disclosure - my name is nowhere near the top of the feminism dial-a-friend list. While I have never sent some of the world’s most powerful women to the microphone to cover for my adultery, or accidently walked off from a car crash forgetting that my incredibly young secretary was still in my submerged vehicle, neither have I achieved the level of female esteem of enjoyed by Alan Alda and Mike Farrell. (Though both are the stars of my favorite show.) Don’t get me wrong, some of my favorite people are women. Both of my daughters, my mom, two of my sisters, several cousins, aunts, friends, and even my ex-wife are all women. I’m a fan…a big fan! Had it not been for Ms. Dowd’s review, I never would read the book, and probably continued my ignorant bliss of Ms. Sandberg and her position at Facebook. Much of the criticism of the book is dead on accurate. I couldn't believe Sandberg actually said she wants to be “the pompom girl for feminism”. Isn't that sort of like being the centerfold for chastity? I didn't come across anything offensive in the book, but I didn't find anything new or inspirational either. It was a very easy read, and carried both the positive and negative weight of that designation. Ms. Dowd, however; is to be congratulated on at least a couple of fronts. She jumped way up the Chauvinist Power Rankings. Most importantly, she proved a theory long debated by social anthropologist, and men patiently, yet quite awkwardly, waiting in OB/GYN offices the world over. The biggest critics of women are other women. Men used to own this demo (18-45 year old women haters and skeptics of female ability), but no more. Like Gandalf on the bridge of Khazad-dûm, Dowd stands between any woman choosing her own path and success screaming “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!”

I knew of Fredrick Douglass as a historical figure, which is to say, I really knew virtually nothing abut the man. Daughter Hannah gave me Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln for Christmas, and that along with the 150 year anniversary of the Civil War has led me to read several different subjects. Reading a slave's experience from one who has suffered its suffocation is vastly different than writer whose understanding of slavery is merely the knowledge of its history. Douglass, not separated from slavery be time or experience,tells a story that more than 150 years later, carries the horror of his time as chattel.

OK, technically I listened to this "book". But when the last best hope for scary monolithic world domination of information - Amazon, says it is a book...I just say yes ma'am! After finishing David Sedaris: Live at Carnegie Hall, I'm getting in line to read his other concerts or listen to his other books...whatever...because he is hilarious! Apparently, I'm unbelievably late to the David Sedaris bandwagon, as friends of both my children and my parents have politely asked what took me so long? Sure, I allowed myself to get distracted by Comedy Central, You Tube, HBO, and Oprah (Oprah?...forget it, he's on roll.)I had forgotten there were folks writing really funny stuff. Jonathan Swift, Will Rogers, Woody Allen, Lewis Grizzard,and virtually every national political campaign since 1968 are all wonderfully funny reads, but starting with the Jackie Gleason Show my funny bone was distracted by the shiny lights and "How sweet it is!!". By the time Robin Williams and Bill Murray came along I had long ago abandoned trying to read something funny. Other than an odd John Irving novel, I rarely came across a reading inspired laugh. Now that has changed, and after my ribs heal I will read the rest of his works.

How did the Saturday Night Live Point – Counter Point skits of the 1970’s, where each view point started with a personal insult grenade “Jane you ignorant slut!”, somehow take the place of real political dialogue in this country? What kind of insane CGI wizardry has morphed Walter Cronkite into Jon Stewart? How far down the sociological self-sabotage scale do you have reach to reach the point where men and women of great achievement – astronauts, writers, artists, that guy at Wham-o who invented the giant bubble set, Frisbees, the hula hoop, and the Frisbee – are replace as idols by Paris Hilton and a gaggle of mean girls?All these questions rattled through my mind as I read Justice Sonia Sotomayor memoir “My Beloved World”. She is an incredible lady whose life path, driven by excellence, is the personification of the opportunities possible through America’s freedom. The difficulty and obstruction of her journey took many forms, but even with all those walls that had to be scaled she never doubted the path’ existence. Justice Sotomayor recognized that America’s greatness and power was not due to it’s achievements such as men on the moon, defeating fascism, military might, or technological invention. America’s greatness is born out the ideals to which she aspires. Even when our country was nowhere near living up to these ideals, as is seen in the huge percentage of delegates to the Continental Congress who were slave owners, they remained her compass.I was also struck by how similar Justice Sotomayor’s life is to that of Condoleezza Rice. Clearly these women are on opposite ends of the political spectrum. This leads me back to Point – Counterpoint. It seems to me that while we often disagree with one another’s understanding our ideals, each philosophy is strengthened by the necessity to compete with differing viewpoints. It is often a messy or even horrifying process, as with the Civil War. Ultimately it is a process that continues to find ways to liberate from darkness those who do not yet share the full measure of freedom. My fifteen year old daughter answered the Facebook profile question about her political views by saying “Politics are corrupt”. I believe this level of cynicism, especially from one so young, is the greatest threat to our continued freedom. This is why Justice Sotomayor’s memoir, like that of Dr. Rice and so many others, is an important inspiration in the ever present fight for liberty.

Admittedly, my dislike of this book could be a simple case of historical transference. Any implication, inference, or suggestion that because of their education and life potential the sacrifice of five Harvard graduates were somehow more honorable or significant than others who served is offensive. Pall Mall, Tennessee rests just on the horizon of where I work and live, and is the birth place of Alvin C. York, a Medal of Honor recipient and arguably the most storied American soldier of World War I. Though a smart, devote, and earnest man, Sgt. York was virtually uneducated even by the standards of his day. Yet what he accomplished with his life during the war, and most especially after the war, is inspirational on any level. His glory on the battle field was exceeded by his humility and concern for others, especially the children of his rural Tennessee valley, throughout the remainder of his life. I feel better now.

Best I can figure, the unholy combination of the discovery of political satire, a teacher’s ability to make our country’s history and the workings of our republic exciting (Thanks, Mrs. Henderson!), and the unceasing desire of a semi-literate adolescent boy to be a smart ass, converged to give me my admiration of President Gerald R. Ford. “Write it when I’m Gone: Remarkable Off-the-Record Conversations with Gerald R. Ford by Thomas Defrank only confirmed and deepened that esteem.Regardless of any political disagreement one might have with President Ford, his decency as a human being is unquestionable. Knowing what the country needed, as well as knowing that by answering that need he was all but certainly destroying any hope he might have of winning re-election, President Ford stepped in from of America and the world to say “our long national nightmare is over.” In an age when finding a politician who actually believes in something is about as likely as Bill Clinton becoming a Jesuit, President Ford’s words and deeds demonstrated what belief in a principle, an ideal – no matter the cost – looks like.The most poignant moments, when the ability of Michigan All-American Center begins to falter, are described by Mr. Defrank with such compassion and earnestness that rather than feel sorrow for President Ford, I began to share Defrank’s grief for such a mentor and great man. Defrank did this by subtly repeating Ford’s comments, and reflecting the slight loss of memory experienced as one ages. Ford’s concern and compassion for others is easily seen in two examples from late in his life. As the war in Vietnam came to it’s conclusion, Ford kept the American embassy open as long as possible. The iconic image of that time became the thousands who climbed the ladder on top of the embassy and onto helicopters that offered freedom and safety. Today that ladder is the center piece of President Ford’s library and is something Ford took great pride in. The other example is his treatment of Ronald Reagan. Ford was no fan of Ronald Reagan, and to his dying day believed that Reagan ultimately cost Ford re-election. If ever Ford had an enemy, it was Reagan. That all changed when President Reagan’s Alzheimer’s was made public in 1994. From that moment until his death, President Ford stood by his rival in every way possible. President Ford knew that the most important aspect of leadership, regardless of all other variables, is the care, empathy and genuine love of one’s fellow man.

The trouble with a harm reduction concept of addiction is that harm is still part of the equation. For a "neuroscientist", someone who supposedly understands the chemical workings of the brain, to tell me that while they have been addicted to opiates, as well as other substances, they now enjoy along with sunsets, walks on the beach, and puppy dogs - martinis; tells me I'm still listening to an addict. While the trainer might tell us and show us how harmless the tiger is, and the safety of playing with it, the tiger remains a tiger. Addiction remains addiction. Unlike Siegfried and Roy, whose play with man eating beasts did not send us all scurrying out to get a tiger of our very own, an addict does just that. The addict mind says "Look, this tiger called alcohol can't hurt me. Look at Dr. Lewis. He's enjoying martinis with his new bride. My problem isn't addiction...I've just been dancing with the wrong kind of tiger".It's one thing to keep going into the cage when you think it is safe, whether because you are a skilled expert or because you have raised the tiger from a cub, but it is something altogether differnt to imply that some interaction with tigers can be safe. Especially when you recognize their wounds, and how closely they match your own.

While not my favorite Styron work, it was an enjoyable and quick read. My only criticism is that the stories seemed to not quite reach their conclusion. Of course since they were published posthumously...

I loved the fluid perspective of the story, of going back to the past and using the insight of the present to shine on the path that would be trudged in the future. The subject surpassed being just about an addict or woman or mom or anything else, to become a story about a healing.

A story, well told, about a soldier who did not allow his odyssey's end be his final act of service to his family, country, or fellow man.

It has always been strange to me the way we humans can compartmentalize our lives. Grover Cleveland may be the most extreme example of our Presidents, but he is by far one of the more interesting men we've placed in the Oval Office.

As a man my experience with birth is limited to say the least. I have participated to the extent any father can in the births of all three of my children, but still was only an observer. Call the Midwife: A Memoir of Birth, Joy, and Hard Times by Jennifer Worth is a new perspective for the casual observer, enhancing the meaning, significance and understanding of the birth of our children.For the adolescent male mind, a part of every man regardless of his age, birth combines mystery, naughty bits, gross stuff, and joyful tears that leave us confused and often incapable of expressing the emotions that each aspect create. We don’t know whether to say cool, or gross, or to simply claim that allergies are behind our glistening eyes. Should we cowboy up, or do our best Mike Farrell impersonation? Mrs. Worth uses clear, concise, and stark medical terminology to describe the rape and sexual abuse that created some of the babies she delivered, and in doing so makes the horror all forms of sexual abuse more tangible and disgusting. This is balanced against the steadfast love between many of the husbands and wives she serves, the nuns and midwives who live with them, and most importantly the love God has for mankind.There were a couple of surprises for me in reading Mrs. Worth’s tale. I didn't realize that even as late as the 1950’s indoor plumbing was not available to many East End Londoners, or the magnitude of the impact German bombing had on housing. The final surprise was the final delivery Mrs. Worth narrates, which was her faith in God. Even in the midst of the poverty, cruelty, injustice that so often reeked havoc in the lives of those she worked with, Mrs. Worth found love. And where there is love, there too is God.

[bc:The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America|21996|The Devil in the White City Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America|Erik Larson|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1312066724s/21996.jpg|3486041]Looking back, it was rather strange when I found myself standing and applauding Erik Larson’s The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America; and for a moment even Petey the Watts Bar Wonder Terrier was concerned. As two stories, The Chicago World’s Fair of 1983 and the crimes of Dr. H.H. Holmes, weave and intertwine, as the reader braces for their collision. The collision never comes, but the gravity of each story pulls on the other forever altering it’s path.The World’s Columbian Exposition of 1893 became the stage on which the 19th century gave birth to the 20th century. For many in America, especially for those rural areas, the daily life they lived was virtually the same as their grandparents, or even great-grandparents. The fair offered a glimpse behind the curtain to see much of what the 20th century had to offer. The zipper, Cracker Jacks, Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, a device that enabled books to be printed in Braille, working electrical power and the Ferris Wheel all debuted at the fair. H.H. Holmes is believed by many to be the first serial killer in American history, and for him the fair became a siren’s call luring thousands, including many women, to Chicago hoping to avoid the economic depression of the day. God only knows the real number Holmes killed. Nine deaths were confirmed, but the number could be as large as 200. The limited communication of the day made it easy for someone to disappear.Larson’s telling of these stories is captivating as mixes the historically accurate with descriptions fuel the images of the imagination.