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Unsafe at any speed?

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You'll be glad to know that my Corolla is NOT one of the quadrillion vehicles recalled by Toyota for safety concerns. I've done recalls before, and "better safe than sorry," naturally, but it's still a hassle, and I'm just glad that I don't really have to lose sleep at night worrying if my night trip out to the mallville Starbucks is my ticket to an untimely death. (There are better things to lose sleep over.)

Winter's a good time for reading, n'est ce pas? One of the best things I've read in recent months was Patrick French's brilliant biography of V.S. Naipaul. Its title comes from the classic first line of Naipual's "Congo" novel, "A Bend in the River":

"The world is what it is, and men who are nothing, who allow themselves to become nothing, have no place in it."

A harsh epigram from an often-heartless author, but representative of Naipaul's ethos. French's book is "authorized," meaning (in a peculiar sense) that it was written with the approval and the co-operation of its subject, who seems to be as unsparing and unsentimental about himself as he is about others.

This biography is well-written, but what really lingers in my memory is the extraordinary emotional cruelty of Naipaul himself. Reading about his savage narcissism and his vampiric devastation of the women who sustained him, one doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. Of course, these women - his first wife Pat, and his long term (25 year!) mistress Margarita - allowed him to get away with it. Famous authors can indeed be bastards - just ask Sonia Tolstoy. (By the way, I hope that the Tolstoy movie, "The Last Station," with "golden age" performances by Helen Mirren and Christopher Plummer, finally makes it way to Iron Harbor.)

Drill Baby Drill


I've been experiencing some pain in my mouth lately. Not all the time but intermittently. A dull aching throb on the lower left side of the jaw. Sometimes it's felt like a tooth thing, and other times like a jaw thing. Happily I have good dental coverage at my place of employment. I think it's a great thing to have teeth, and I would like to keep mine as long as possible.

Well, I went into to see Buzz today. Yes, my dentist's name really is Buzz. X-rays did not show any decay inside the tooth, no withering of the root. Yay. A day without a root canal is my kind of day.

There didn't seem to be any problem with nearby or neighboring fillings, either. Some of my fillings are getting up there in age - a lot of them would be elegible to the President of the United States, say. I've been told that in a few years I should expect to have to get a number of them replaced. Which is just another reason for me to keep working, I suppose.

Buzz's diagnosis was that I clenching my jaw, which seems a little peculiar because I'm not generally a clenched-jaw kind of guy. But I believed him. An upper molar and a lower molar on the back left side were grating against one another - just enough, just frequently enough to cause me noticeable discomfortable on an occasional basis. The situation called for a minor of drilling, he said: just enough to even the bite and relieve the stress. And that's what he did in my mouth this afternoon. Just a few seconds of BZZZZZZZZZZZZ with one of those peculiar instruments. No anaesthetic! "This won't hurt at all." And I told myself it didn't. More like polishing with an abrasive cloth than drilling, really. Strange sensation though, feeling those little tidbits of enamel being scraped away.

I hope that it works!

Fat Boyz and other distractions

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Is it just me or is everyone in a funk these days? It seems like a lot of people I know are acting like they are characters in an Almodovar movie. And they aren't necessarily Penelope Cruz, either! By the way, great that she's been nominated for another Oscar. Just another reason to see that Daniel Day Lewis movie about ladies' lingerie.

Splitsville? Yep, for a lot of people I know that's the destination of choice. You never can tell, etc. etc.

I went out over the weekend with some friends who aren't yet divorced, it's kind of nice for a change. We've got this project going where we are visiting all the restaurants in Iron Harbor in alphabetical order, and now we are up to the letter "F". That meant "Fat Boyz," in the middle of the highly desirable and semi-exclusive "Troubridge" neighborhood. Years ago - and I mean, many many years ago, I used to visit there with a certain friend of mine to play bar trivia. We were both so impoverished at the time that we relied on the reward of French fries and chicken sandwiches to tide us over from the threat of hunger during the week. Years later, we are better fed, but no wiser (perhaps), and the bar is now known as "Fat Boyz":
A recent survey from one of our local radio stations revealed that "Fat Boyz" was declared to have the best Neon Signs, and the best Philly Cheese Steak, of any bar in the Central Upper Peninsula. Amen!

Books 'R Me

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We had our Snowbound Book Group meeting this week, Wednesday night, this month's book being Nikolai Gogol's classic "Dead Souls" (which incidentally has absolutely nothing to do with vampires).

Although most of our book group selections are contemporary, occasionally we dip into the masters, which I enjoy. I hardly ever read 19th century literature these days.

Admittedly, I was enormously "into" the 19th century when I was younger: i.e. a teenager and early twentyer. In high school, I was more into Tolstoy than the Bee Gees. I think that's one of the reasons why I'm so warped in the 21st century.

I'd read "Dead Souls" when I was 16, but I'd forgotten most things about it. It's not a bad idea to revisit a classic book every thirty years or so.

We read the book in the new version by the translating team of Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. They seem to be good at getting at the sensuous richness of Gogol's prose. I liked being about to taste the food at the banquets, to smell the sweat on the horses, to hear the clatter-clatter of boots on parquet floors.
The novel is a snapshot of rural Russian society in the early 19th century, after the shock of Napoleonic invasion, but before the Alexandrian era of "glasnost" (reform) brought about through Russia's defeat in the Crimean War and epitomized by the abolition of serfdom in 1861.

The characters are Dickensian in their mixture of passions and foibles. Incidentally, Gogol wrote the book while he was living in Italy. He intended to write a massive three-volume tome that would be a kind of Russian "Divine Comedy," but it was only the first of three planned "Books" that was published in 1842. He did finish the manuscript for Book II, but he destroyed it in a fit of anger over the censor's desire to mute his satire. It's never been easy to be an author in Russia.

I'm going to stay in Russia, reading-wise, for the moment. I picked up a copy of Mikhail Bulgakov's "The Master and Margarita," which has an image of a satanic cat on its cover. It's a book I heard about first when I was in high school, so I suppose it's about time that I got around to reading it.

Jean Simmons (1929-2010), R.I.P.

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British actress Jean Simmons has died at the age of 80, at her home in Santa Monica.

She was my first impression of Ophelia, having been cast at the tender age of 19 to play against Laurence Olivier.
Wasn't she tender in that role? I think I was just 16 when I saw the film for the first time.

Olivier was so mean to her, no wonder she went crazy. I guess even then I was learning how unpleasant some people - especially melancholy princes - could be.

Jean Simmons went on to have a long and varied career, playing opposite Marlon Brando in "Guys and Dolls" (not so good, I think) better and Kirk Douglas in "Spartacus" (). I also remember seeing her in a "Murder She Wrote" opposite Angela Lansbury.

Her last film, "Shadows in the Sun," was just released in the UK earlier this month.

Simmons certainly played some interesting roles, but I daresay I do not think she ever quite realized her potential. 'Tis a pity.

Ophelia:

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance, pray,
love, remember: and there is pansies. that's for thoughts.


Window shopping in Houghton

I saw this window display at a general store on Sheldon Ave in Houghton this week. Very practical! Nothing there that's not a necessity. General stores are good that way.
I was over on the campus of the techie/engineering university on Thursday; part of their MLK Week events. ("Civil rights and the GLBT community.") It's just a two hour drive, so it's quite close, and I was honored to be invited. Nice to be on the poster,and they even spelled my name right!

Bayard Rustin, 1912-1987

"Indeed, if you want to know whether today people believe in democracy, if you want to know whether they are true democrats, if you want to know whether they are human rights activists, the question to ask is, ‘What about gay people?’ Because that is now the litmus paper by which this democracy is to be judged.” (Bayard Rustin, 1985)

Assassins

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I think Mehmet Ali Agca, the man who attempted to assinate Pope John Paul II back in 1981, looks quite good in his light blue cable-knit sweater.

He was released from prison yesterday in Ankara, Turkey. 'Mr. Agca is reported to be considering an array of lucrative offers to tell his story. But there have long been questions about his mental condition. A statement he distributed outside the prison at Sincan on the outskirts of Ankara on Monday said: “I proclaim the end of the world. All the world will be destroyed in this century. Every human being will die in this century.”

He said: “I am the Christ eternal. The Gospel is full of mistakes. I will write the perfect gospel.'

I'm kind of relieved to hear that. I was thinking that I might have to re-do the electrical wiring in my house at some point, but since the world is being destroyed soon, I don't need to worry about the expense.

Those of us of a certain age will remember that day in late May 1981 when the Pope JP2 (the "Polish Pope") was shot as he was riding in an open limousine in Rome. (John Paul was wounded, but survived, and in 1983 he met with Agca in prison and publicly forgave him.) We also remember all the interesting conspiracy theories of the time, the allegations of Bulgarian or KGB connections. Ah, those were fun times.

That was indeed the era of the assassins. By the way, Mark Chapman is still in Attica State Prison in New York State for his December 1980 killing of John Lennon - I remember that day, too. And let's not forget John Hinckley, who in late March 1981 attempted to assassinate President Ronald Reagan "for Jodie Foster." At the time, Hinckley was declared "not guilty by reason of insanity," and while he remains under close psychiatric observation, he is allowed to have his own drivers' licence now, and he has permission to visit his family in Williamsburg VA for up to nine days at a time.
Time passes.

Winter Pear Salad

Brought this to Nashini's pot-luck dinner last weekend - it was a big success. (sorry no photo)

3 pears, cut into cubes
1 package spinach salad greens
1/2 cup dried cranberries
1/3 cup chopped walnuts, toasted
1 zucchini sliced

1/2 cup salad dressing of choice

Toss pears with 1/4 cup of dressing in a large bowl; let stand for 15 minutes.

Add greens, cranberries, toasted walnuts, zucchini and remaining dressing. Toss lightly and serve.

Can't get much easier than that!

Mid-January jottings

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An ordinary snowy day last week, on our ordinary snowy campus:
Announcing another departure from Iron Harbor: Jane is heading down to Austin TX. She moved up here in 1997 to go to school, so it's a major move for her. She was one of my advisees, and was also active in the GLBT group on campus. After her graduation in 2001, she stuck around, working at the food co-op and playing a lot of softball. But with the new decade, she felt it was time to make a break. Fortunately, she was able to use her connections to get a full-time job - with benefits - at the food co-op down in Austin - it's about 10 times bigger than ours. In this economy, it's good to know of people who are employed.

On Thursday night there was a going away celebration for Jane - at Terry's. Jane's partner Jenn is going with her - Jenn is a singer-songwriter, so she'll do well with the great music scene in Austin. Then we had a birthday dinner for Jimmy the Greek at Aza's cafe. Except we didn't call it a birthday dinner, because Jimmy hates birthdays. But he's doing well - working long shifts at Starbucks but adjusting to the routine. His mother's doing well, too, but his aunt has to go back in to the hospital this week for some kind of bone surgery. Jimmy's cousins do owe him a deep debt of gratitude for looking after their mother as much as he does!

And then yesterday morning I was back on Baraga Street for coffee with Buck and Darius. Buck's back in the U.P. for a few days. He's been in Scottsdale AZ for the last nine years, but would much like to move back up here - he misses winters. After leaving I.H., Buck got a job as a graphic designer in Phoenix, but he was laid off in November - recession, even in Arizona. We met down at the Dead River Coffeeshop, which is not in my normal loop of caffeine dispensaries. It's quirky, but good for conversation.
(Darius)

Love Over Scotland

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This is the third in a series of McCall Smith's Edinburgh-based novels, and although I read the first two in the unfolding series with sufficient pleasure, I think I've had about enough. Certainly the premise - a 21st century newspaper serial - is excellent, and Edinburgh is a beautiful and interesting setting. I still enjoyed reading about the sufferings of poor genius boy Bertie, the victim of an overbearing and controlling mother. And in this installment, Angus Lordie's dog Cyril has an interesting adventure that reveals new depths to his canine character. However, this interesting episode unforunately is cut short much too soon.

In "Love Over Scotland," the "twee" factor seems to be greater than in the others, as many of the characters revel in what appears to be a boring and bland provincialism. One of the major "plots" - the one involving the romantic life of a young art student - takes a regrettable turn toward dull predictability. Moreover, the episodes that do involve foreign travel (Domenica's sojourn in the Malacca Straits, and Bertie's orchestra visit to Paris) were just not complelling to me. Finally, McCall Smith's little moralistic bromides that show up every few chapters became quite annoying. McCall has made an enormous success of his "series fictions," and he has continued with his Edinburgh stories, but I don't think I'll be following up on the fourth volume.
February 2010
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