Practice Tonight, Concert Tomorrow
This week, I obviously haven’t blogged very much, and there’s a reason for that.
You see, even though I’m still far more “off” than “on” and have little energy due to being sick for nearly three months in a row, I was asked months ago to play a concert tomorrow evening at the Case High School theatre in Racine, Wisconsin with the Racine Concert Band. (I regularly play with the RCB, but mostly in the summer months.)
And of course, at the time, I said yes.
When this concert’s first rehearsal came up a few weeks ago, I told them that I was still recovering from bronchitis and that a new therapy had been started. (True.) I had hopes the new therapy would help, but I didn’t know how long that it would take to restore my energy level to the point where I could play. So I said at that point that I’d prefer not to play this concert — not because I didn’t want to play, but because I feared I would be completely and totally unable to play.
An aside: My degrees are in music performance, mostly. (My Bachelor’s of Arts from the University of Wisconsin-Parkside had enough credits that I could’ve taken a degree beyond music, had I wished, and I certainly had enough credits for both an English and history minor, if Parkside did minors. But I didn’t.) So performing music in front of people, no matter how terribly I feel at the time, is what I’ve trained for my entire life.
This is why, when the RCB wasn’t able to get a substitute clarinet player — they thought they had one, but that person backed out — I decided to play the concert and the subsequent rehearsals, even knowing that the rehearsals would take a good deal of my available energy along with my available concentration, and also would keep me from blogging very much or doing much in the way of editing, either.
Of course, there’s no guarantee even without playing this concert, as lousy as I’ve felt, that I’d have been able to do that much more. I’ve been told that I’m exhausted for the past five or six months, including before I was diagnosed in mid-April with acute bronchitis. And while for a time I was able to keep “bulling through” and accomplishing what I needed to accomplish as a writer, editor and musician, after that bronchitis hit me I had nothing left to “bull through” with.
What I’m trying to do now is to manage the exhaustion, get as much rest as I possibly can, and to limit stress. These are not easy things for me to do at all, but because I was able to do some of them, plus that medical therapy I discussed before (basically I’m taking twice as much of one type of medicine as before in order to limit acid reflux, as reflux plays into both bronchitis and asthma), I’ve been able to play the rehearsals and will play tomorrow’s concert. (Well, tonight‘s concert, as it’s clicked over past midnight as I’ve been editing this.)
Now, am I playing very well right now? In my own personal (and professional) estimation, no, I’m not. I’m at about fifty, maybe sixty percent of what I’m capable of when I’m healthy. (And that’s not what I’m capable of when I’m at the top of my game, mind you — that’s just when I’m healthy and able to play.) So I’ve been able to completely learn the parts, which is good, but I’m not able to fully play them, which isn’t.
What I’m doing to compensate for the areas I can’t play is to take longer breathing breaks than normal, so I don’t get too tired out to play. (I’ve also been smart about taking my asthma inhaler and such, as there’s no need to be any more stupid than I must.) And if I have to, I take things in two- or four-measure chunks . . . whatever it takes in order to play the music as written, at least as much of it as I’m able to play at this time.
But the band knew this. The conductor knew this. And they still wanted me to play.
Which is why I will take the stage and do my best on May 16, 2013, at 7:30 p.m. out at Case High School in Racine. The RCB has one “combined piece” with the Case High School’s best and/or senior class musicians, plus four other pieces by Robert Ward, Germaine Tailleferre, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov and Percy Grainger. The “big piece” is Tailleferre’s “Suite Divertimento,” written in 1977. It’s a mixture of 20th century French and Renaissance idioms, and if we play it as well as we’re capable of, it should be most impressive.
However, the piece I actually enjoy the most is “Prairie Overture” by Robert Ward. Ward is an underrated American composer who died in April at the age of 95, and his piece was written in 1957 for concert band and was only later transcribed by Ward for the orchestra. (Usually a composer writes for orchestra first and band later, if at all, which is why the concert band repertoire consists of so many arrangements.) This piece sounds both American and Western in flavor and style, but has some unique orchestration throughout that was Ward’s trademark.
I’m uncertain how many people in Racine even know about my blog, much less read it regularly. But if you live in Racine and you enjoy real, live music played by real, live musicians, you owe it to yourself to get yourself out to Case High School on Thursday night and hear these pieces for yourself.
As for my plans for after the concert, I plan to take it very slowly until I regain some more energy or strength, even though I really hate having to do so. The medical people I’ve consulted have all told me that since it took months to wreck my health, it’ll take months for me to regain the energy I no longer have. And the only way to regain that energy is to be smart, stay within myself, and try not to push myself overmuch.
All I can do right now is promise that I’ll do things as I’m able, as my health allows. This wasn’t a situation I’d expected to get into by any means, so I have no “playbook” in order to help me get back out of it.
That’s why you may, or may not, see regular blogs from me over the summer months as I do my best to slowly regain my health, strength and stamina. But if I’m able, I’ll continue to comment on whatever strikes my fancy, just as I’ve always done, in the hopes that it’ll intrigue you. Inflame you.
Or at least keep you amused. (Whatever works.)
MLB’s Refusal to Allow Competitor Pink Bats for Mother’s Day, Breast Cancer Awareness is Shameful
Folks, regardless of how poor my health is right now, there are some things that make me sit up and take notice.
Take this article from Yahoo Sports’ columnist Jeff Passan, which discusses major league baseball’s stalwart refusal to allow any pink bats with logos on them unless they’ve been acquired from Louisville Slugger itself, which has paid MLB a premium to be the only bat company allowed to put logos on them.
Mind you, the pink bats are to show support for breast cancer awareness, and are to be used this coming Sunday — Mother’s Day. Players started using pink bats back in 2006 to show their support for their mothers, wives, sisters, etc., who’ve had breast cancer. And while these bats back in 2006 were made by Louisville Slugger, there was nothing initially in the rules that said players couldn’t use bats made by other makers — which makes perfect sense.
Because this wasn’t supposed to be about the bats. It’s supposed to be about breast cancer awareness.
As Passan says (from the above-mentioned article):
Raising money for charity is often a painful process, and if a company like Louisville is willing to donate money – more than $500,000 since the inception of the program, it claimed on its Twitter feed – that is a great victory. At the same time, Louisville’s insistence on including the no-label clause for its competitors does more harm to the point of the day – increasing awareness – than its donation does good. The money is simply not worth the aggravation for any of the parties involved, particularly Louisville, which used its Twitter account to spin corporate gobbledygook about all the good it has done.
From a business sense, of course Louisville doesn’t want its competitors putting labeled pink bats in stores and claiming they’re just like the ones major leaguers swung. Then again, for such good friends of cancer research, Louisville seems far more concerned with ensuring a monopoly on that market than painting the batter’s box pink with every bat possible, manufacturer and label be damned.
The main reason this issue has come to a head a day before Mother’s Day (and the usage of the pink breast cancer awareness bats) is because Max Bat sent some pink bats to Minnesota Twins third baseman Trevor Plouffe and Baltimore Orioles outfielder Nick Markakis (among others). And when Plouffe found out he wouldn’t be allowed to use his pink breast cancer awareness bat because it has the Max Bat logo prominently displayed (in pink), he quite rightfully got upset and said something on Twitter that he later deleted. (Mind you, Plouffe was not rude; he was just being honest, and Passan’s article has the screen captures to prove it.)
Look. This may seem like an extremely obvious thing to say, but here goes: These special pink bats are for breast cancer awareness. So why should anyone care about what specific company makes them?
Isn’t the fact that Plouffe and Markakis want to honor their mothers, both of whom are breast cancer survivors, by using pink bats in a baseball game far more important than whether or not Max Bat makes their bats?
There is no excuse for MLB to allow corporate greed to rear its ugly head on a day that’s supposed to be about breast cancer awareness.
Which is why as a concerned baseball fan, and as the granddaughter of a breast cancer survivor, I call upon MLB to allow any and all of its players to use whatever regulation pink bats they have — whether they’re Louisville Sluggers or not, whether Louisville Slugger paid for the “exclusive use” of the LS pink bats or not, and whether they have logos prominently displayed or not — in order to support the cause of breast cancer awareness.
Because refusing to do so is not just cowardly. It’s downright shameful.
Youth Soccer League Referee Dies a Week After Being Punched by Player
Folks, some things just should not ever happen. Period.
Take the case of the recent death of youth soccer league referee Ricardo Portillo, 46. He gave a yellow card — a caution — to a seventeen-year-old goalie playing in a game on April 27, 2013, in a Utah recreational soccer league. The goalie was so incensed at getting a yellow card, he punched Portillo in the head. Portillo initially thought everything was OK, but then needed assistance to stand. After that, according to this article from Yahoo Sports’ blog Prep Rally, written by Cameron Smith:
Portillo then sat down on the field and began vomiting blood, eliciting panicked calls for an emergency ambulance at the field.
This article from the Christian Science Monitor goes into a few more details:
When police arrived around noon, the teenager was gone and Portillo was laying on the ground in the fetal position. Through translators, Portillo told EMTs that his face and back hurt and he felt nauseous. He had no visible injuries and remained conscious. He was considered to be in fair condition when they took him to the Intermountain Medical Center.
But when Portillo arrived to the hospital, he slipped into a coma with swelling in his brain.
Worse yet, Portillo had previously been attacked by doing what he loved — refereeing soccer. Even though Portillo’s family “begged” him to quit refereeing, he refused. According to Portillo’s daughter, as quoted by the article in the Christian Science Monitor:
“It was his passion,” she said. “We could not tell him no.”
The article from Prep Rally explains what’s happened to the seventeen-year-old goalie thus far:
The goalie in question has since been booked into juvenile detention on suspicion of aggravated assault, though he could face additional charges now that Portillo has died. There has also been an ongoing debate about whether to charge the teen as an adult, despite the fact that he is 17 and not 18-years-old.
But lest you think this is an isolated incident, think again. The Prep Rally article — truly a must read — goes further, discussing the instances of violence against referees at youth games of all sorts, including attacks by parents, players, and most disturbingly of all, coaches.
Deaths like Portillo’s are incredibly distressing. Here’s a guy just trying to do the best job he can, refereeing a youth soccer game in a recreational game. Yet he gets punched in the head by a player, slips into a coma, and dies in a week.
All because Portillo was doing what he loved.
Look. If you have anger management problems, go see a counselor and discuss it. But do not — do not — take them onto the field with you. Your anger should not result in the death of an innocent man.
And while the seventeen-year-old didn’t intend to kill Portillo, he should be charged with Portillo’s death and be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. That won’t bring Portillo back, of course. But it may give some comfort to Portillo’s family, all while reminding players, parents and coaches the world over that life and death are far more important than any mere game.
Bare minimum, everyone who has children in any youth league needs to read Cameron Smith’s last paragraph from today’s Prep Rally column:
One can only hope that the lessons from this attack — and the subsequent jail time that the teen in question is likely to serve — will provide ample deterrent for future athletes and parents who struggle to contain their emotions in the midst of what is just a game, even if similar incidents in the past haven’t succeeded in doing so.
Smith’s words cannot be improved upon. But I wish they’d not have had to be written.
Saturday Odds and Ends (May 2013)
Folks, there’s a number of things to cover, but I have only a limited amount of time to cover ’em all. So let’s get started with a shameless plug, shall we?
Since you already know about HOW BEER SAVED THE WORLD, please check it out. I would really appreciate it. (Links available in the prior post.)
Next, due to my health continuing to be problematic at best, I won’t be reviewing anything at Shiny Book Review this week. I do hope to review two books by Karen Myers — good, solid fantasies about fox-hunting, dogs, and just a bit of the Wild Hunt for good measure — very soon. I also have books by Ash Krafton and Chris Nuttall that I’ve read and am pondering, but am not quite ready to review . . . anyway, I plan to review these four books as soon as I can, starting with at least one book by Karen Myers next week over at SBR. So please, stay tuned.
As for everything else . . . my favorite baseball team, the Milwaukee Brewers, lost a heartbreaker at home this afternoon to the St. Louis Cardinals, 7-6. The Brewers had tied the game in the bottom of the 8th on a suicide squeeze, perfectly executed by Nori Aoki, so things looked as if the Brewers might actually be able to win against the Cardinals at home. Unfortunately, when Brewers closer Jim Henderson entered in the top of the ninth, he ended up giving up a run partly because he didn’t hold his runners on base very well. Had he done a bit better at that, the Brewers and Cardinals might still be in extras right now, tied with a score of 6-6, because Henderson pitched well aside from that.
A health update: I continue to have problems with what I’ve been told are “the remnants of bronchitis.” Because I have asthma, these remnants continue to cause me to feel completely wiped out. I’m able to concentrate better, providing I continue to rest much more than usual, and I have been able to resume work on a difficult edit in progress. I’m also thinking about various stories and worked on one of them, albeit in prose notes form only (no dialogue, a couple of brief character sketches, and scene setting), earlier today.
So that’s progress, of a sort. But it is slow.
I just have to remember that even incremental progress is still progress. And that it’s important that I keep trying . . . as if I could ever forget.
Anyway, there were a number of other stories that caught my eye this week — Howard Kurtz getting fired from the Daily Beast due to a factual inaccuracy in an article Kurtz wrote about NBA basketball player Jason Collins (Kurtz said initially that Collins didn’t explain that he’d actually been engaged to a woman for eight years, which wasn’t true — in Collins’ first-person Sports Illustrated piece, Collins clearly says that he was engaged to a woman. Kurtz’s newspaper made a correction later, saying that Collins had “downplayed” his engagement instead, which makes more sense, but apparently Kurtz himself did not make this correction.), Harper Lee suing to regain her own copyright for TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD due to what appears to be an unscrupulous agent giving her bad advice in order to profit himself, and, of all things, a second grade teacher in Colorado who taped the mouths of her twenty-eight students shut. She’s currently on paid administrative leave as, apparently, doing this to her twenty-eight students is not considered a crime in Colorado.
I’d love to write about those three things — any, or better yet, all. But right now is not the time, as I continue to have problems drawing a full breath. As long as this condition persists, my energy level is just not going to be what it should no matter how strong my will is that wishes it otherwise.
At any rate, all I can do is to get up every day and try my best. I’m doing that.
My hope is that I’ll be able to feel better soon and do much more of what I’m accustomed to doing — writing, editing, and playing music (I can’t do the last at all, and it’ll probably be at least a few more weeks before I can even make an attempt, considering) — rather than how I feel right now: more than a tad guilty for leaving three juicy blog subjects on the cutting room floor, all because my health just won’t allow me to do them justice right now.
Sold a SF Story to “How Beer Saved the World” Anthology…and it’s Out
Folks, a few months ago I got the delightful news that my science fiction short story “On the Making of Veffen” had sold to editor Phyllis Irene Radford’s HOW BEER SAVED THE WORLD anthology. But, as per usual in this business, I couldn’t mention it until the anthology was officially either “on the schedule” at Sky Warrior Book Publishing with a definite release date, or when it was listed at Amazon. (UPDATE: It’s also listed at Smashwords, if you’d prefer to buy it there. Several overseas friends have already written to me and let me know that the first link, to Amazon, is “United States only,” so I really hope the Smashwords link will work for anyone who wishes to buy the anthology but does not live in the U.S.)
As of April 27, HOW BEER SAVED THE WORLD has been available at Amazon as an e-book. Which is why I’m now free to discuss my story and the whole idea behind this fourteen-story anthology. Containing stories by Ms. Radford, Brenda Clough, Nancy Jane Moore, and many others, it’s described over at Book View Cafe as:
Here’s a book that takes issue with the popular image of beer as the drink of sports-watching couch potatoes: How Beer Saved the World, an anthology of quirky short stories celebrating beer. Edited by Book View Cafe’s Phyllis Irene Radford, and including stories by BVC members Brenda Clough and Nancy Jane Moore, this is a collection of 14 different takes on positive outcomes brought on by beer.
Beer goes back to the early days of the human race. As it says in the introduction, “Fermented grains have been a mainstay of the human diet almost as long as we have been human.” So pour yourself a cold one and sit down with these stories.
Or, if you’d rather see the official press release put out by Maggie Bonham of Sky Warrior Books, here you go:
And on the Eighth Day God Created Beer.
Beer is what separates humans from animals… unless you have too much.
Seriously, anthropologists, archeologists, and sociologists seem to think that when humans first emerged on earth as human, they possessed fire, language, a sense of spirituality, and beer.
Within these pages are quirky, silly, and downright strange stories sure to delight and entertain the ardent beer lover by authors such as Brenda Clough, Irene Radford, Mark J. Ferrari, Shannon Page, Nancy Jane Moore, Frog and Esther Jones, G. David Nordley, and many more!
(Obviously, as a lesser-known author, I’m among the “many more” here.)
My story, “On the Making of Veffen,” concerns Terran Ambassador Betsy Carroll and her N’Ferran friend, the N’Ferran Scholar (and Fearless One), Asayana. (Or as I call him, Scholar Asa for short.) Asa is avian, but he loves veffen — every N’Ferran drinks veffen every day, including the infants — and he and Betsy have bonded over the years due to their mutual love of fermented beverages (among other things). This story starts out with the two of them drinking a tall glass of veffen in the local tavern — veffen, of course, was described in the story as “…akin to a rich Irish stout, even though it had a taste all its own that was rich, nutty and bitter as all dark beer, yet with a hint of entrancing sweetness.” (Do I know my beer, or what?)
Anyway, this meeting is bittersweet, because it’s the last time Betsy sees the elderly Asa alive. Yet Asa’s disappearance and eventual death are mysterious. So the questions aren’t so much as “whodunnit?” as “why did they do it?” as it’s obvious that the N’Ferrans as a whole want to keep something quiet — and that secret has a great deal to do with veffen.
Now, as the anthology is very upfront that beer saves the world, you can assume that what Asa does — which I refuse to spoil (go buy the book already in e-book format; it’s a steal at $4.99, truly) — is of vital importance, and that it, too, has a great deal to do with the nature of veffen. And that it will, indeed, save his world of N’Ferra.**
The other authors here have stories that range from satirical to serious, from the ridiculous to the sublime. All feature some form of beer. And in some way, shape or form, beer saves the world. Which is why it’s a truly different and special anthology, one that should be of interest to beer drinkers everywhere — most especially in my home state of Wisconsin, home of beer, cheese, and brats.
In my opinion, HOW BEER SAVED THE WORLD has a story to please every palate. So if my story doesn’t interest you — though I really hope it does — go check out the anthology anyway, because something else probably will.
———–
** A lengthy aside: “On the Making of Veffen” was written in memory of my late best friend, writer Jefferson A. Wilson (1963-2011). Jeff never managed to get a story published, but he kept trying, and his work had worth and value. Unfortunately, his life was cut short before he could completely deliver on his promise.
As my story is about unusual best friends and the enduring nature of friendship as much as anything else, I couldn’t help but think of Jeff. But I couldn’t figure out how to dedicate the story officially to Jeff as the words refused to come.
Still, I dedicated this story to Jeff inside my head and heart, which is far more important.
Without knowing my friend Jeff, I doubt I would’ve written a story remotely close to this one. And I have to admit that the reason my N’Ferrans are avian is because Jeff liked sauroids nearly as much as dragons (God/dess, did Jeff love dragons), and yet Jeff never wrote a story about avians as far as I know. Which is why I wrote one instead, as it seemed remarkably appropriate.
12-year Veteran NBA Player Jason Collins Comes Out as Gay in Sports Illustrated Article
Today was a watershed moment in American sports history, because today was the day that Jason Collins, a 12-year veteran center in the National Basketball Association, came out as gay. Collins is the first-ever professional athlete in any of the four major professional sports — hockey, baseball, basketball, or football — to come out while he’s still playing.
My first reaction: Hallelujah!
Then I read Jason Collins’ three-page, first-person story in Sports Illustrated (written with Franz Lidz). There are many relevant things here, including why Collins felt the need to come out, what his background is (he’s Christian and believes in Jesus, who promoted tolerance and mutual understanding), and why being gay is not a choice.
Instead, it’s just who Collins is, right along with his basketball ability, his love for history and the civil rights struggle, and many other admirable qualities.
Here’s a relevant quote from the third page of the SI story:
Openness may not completely disarm prejudice, but it’s a good place to start. It all comes down to education. I’ll sit down with any player who’s uneasy about my coming out. Being gay is not a choice. This is the tough road and at times the lonely road. Former players like Tim Hardaway, who said “I hate gay people” (and then became a supporter of gay rights), fuel homophobia. Tim is an adult. He’s entitled to his opinion. God bless America. Still, if I’m up against an intolerant player, I’ll set a pretty hard pick on him. And then move on.
I agree.
Speaking of Tim Hardaway, as Collins said, Hardaway has completely changed his opinion. Michael Rosenberg wrote at Sports Illustrated about how others have reacted to Jason Collins’ groundbreaking announcement — remember, Collins is the first-ever pro athlete to come out as gay in a major male American professional sport while he’s still an active player — and he included a quote from Hardaway:
Several years ago, (Tim) Hardaway made some harsh anti-gay comments, and the backlash was severe enough that Hardaway decided to educate himself about homosexuality. His views have changed radically. He told me he was wrong several years ago, and that gay people deserve the same rights that heterosexuals have.
Hardaway, who now works for the Miami Heat, also said this:
“If people on teams were to come out, people would get over it and accept it and move forward. I really do think that. Any sport. If one person or two people, whoever, comes out in any sport, that sport will accept it and go from there.”
My second reaction: Amen!
Then I read this story by openly lesbian professional tennis player Martina Navratilova, also at SI. Navratilova knows a great deal about professional pressure to remain closeted, as she was the first major pro sports player in any league to come out as lesbian back in 1981.
Navratilova praises Collins, which makes sense, and then gives a brief history of how difficult it’s been up until the past few years to get support in any professional sports league for gay rights, including the ability to be open about your sexuality rather than closeted. But she stumbles a bit, in my opinion at least, when she references the late, great Reggie White.
White, as any Packers fan knows, was one of the greatest defensive ends in the National Football League (see this link from Packers.com that summarizes White’s career nicely), and was enshrined in the NFL’s Hall of Fame in 2006. He was also a Christian minister, and had been raised with fundamentalist Southern Christian values. Because of this, while White loved everyone, he was not particularly tolerant of gays and lesbians and actually took part in a well-advertised TV campaign to try and get GLBT people to “cease” their homosexuality.
This was offensive, and both the NFL and the Green Bay Packers objected — but for the wrong reason as they were more upset that Reggie actually wore his football jersey in the ads than anything else.
White also could be verbally awkward, as when he went to address the Wisconsin Legislature in March of 1998. White said something about how Asians are endlessly inventive that sounded awful, like a racial stereotype, rather than the compliment he had intended. And his comments about other races, including African-Americans, Latinos, and Native Americans were no better.
All of these things caused White to lose out on a professional announcing gig after he finished playing football. So White did suffer censure.
White died in 2004. And at the time, he was attempting to educate himself in ancient Aramaic, as he believed that certain scriptures of the Bible may have suffered by translation — which means that he had apparently had a consciousness raising of sorts. But he didn’t get the time he needed to learn more, as he died of sleep apnea. (Here’s a link to the Reggie White Sleep Disorders Foundation, which is located in West Allis, Wisconsin.)
Now, whether this means White would’ve evolved on this issue is unknown. But I do know that in 2004, President Obama was against gay marriage. Hillary R. Clinton, while adamantly for gay rights in most senses, was also against gay marriage, as was her husband the former President. Tim Hardaway was still against gay rights (which, to be fair, Obama and the two Clintons were for), and hadn’t yet educated himself on this issue. And there were many, many people in all walks of life who said ignorant and bigoted things about GLBT Americans — so Reggie White was not alone.
Look. I met Reggie White in the summer of 1996. He was promoting one of his books, which was a Christian missive about how you need to make the most of every day you’re on this Earth and treat people with kindness and respect. I got to talk with him for fifteen or twenty minutes, without handlers of any sort, as I apparently impressed him because I didn’t ask for an autograph and just talked with him as a real, live human being. (Thank God/dess for book tours, eh?)
I related to White as a minister, and didn’t see him solely as a great football player. And White was a compassionate, caring man — he wanted to know what was going on in my life, and he gave me some advice that’s stuck with me to this day.
I truly believe that had White lived to see 2013, between his studies of Aramaic (he even was studying the Torah itself) and his knowledge of people and his love for everyone, he most likely would’ve changed his opinion. He may have even worked with Athlete Ally, which is a group of straight athletes supporting gay athletes — something that didn’t exist in 2004.
We all have to remember that when White died, he was only 43. He lived a good life. He loved God (who he couldn’t help but see as male, but also saw as all-inclusive — I know this from talking with him). He cared about everyone, and he loved everyone.
But he didn’t get to live another nine years. And in those nine years, anything could’ve happened.
That’s why I wish Navratilova had picked a still-living athlete with a homophobic stance. Because there are still quite a number of those, and with one of those she could’ve had a good, spirited and honest debate as to why whomever she’d picked is still so closed-minded in this day and age.
But as she didn’t — and as I’m a Packers fan who once got to speak with Reggie White at great length — I felt I should respond. Because it’s only right . . . White was a great man in many respects, but yes, he was flawed on this issue.
Still. He was a great man, and he is now deceased. It is time to let the dead rest, while we continue to support progress in all aspects of American life.
Answering Questions
Folks, here are the questions I’ve been asked the most over the past week-plus:
Q: When will you start talking about the Milwaukee Brewers winning streak?
A: Today, I suppose.
Really, I’ve watched the Brewers with great interest over the past nine games. (Well, I always watch with great interest.) I’ve appreciated that they’re winning, that their pitching has improved, and that most of the hitters are starting to come around (with the noted, and glaring, exceptions of Rickie Weeks and Alex Gonzalez).
But I’ve been sick the entire time. And unless something really captivates me — and possibly even if it does (such as Jean Segura’s amazing feat of running the bases backward and getting away with it) — I just haven’t had the energy or health to comment on it.
Still, I’ve enjoyed watching the Brewers play. And I hope their much improved play will continue, even though at some point their current winning streak will come to an end.
Q: Barb, will you be playing the next concert with the University of Wisconsin-Parkside Community Band?
A: No, unfortunately not.
I’ve been feeling very poorly for the past five or six weeks, folks. I just haven’t had much energy. And I continue to feel lousy, which is not conducive to playing a woodwind instrument, to editing, or too much in the way of writing, either.
But I urge everyone to go out and support the Community Band, some of the best music being played in the Southeast Wisconsin area that has mostly been overlooked.
Q: What’s the status of your writing and editing?
A: Right now, I remain in a holding pattern. The bronchitis I’ve been dealing with seems significantly better, yes, but I don’t feel that much better. My concentration has not improved, my energy level has remained very low, and I’m concerned as to why.
Until I can regain some concentration, I just can’t do that much. Which is why my blog hasn’t had an entry since last Saturday’s book review and after-action report . . . and it’s why no editing of substance has been done in nearly two weeks.
Believe you me, I’d rather be healthy. (Or at least healthier.)
Q: What’s going on with ELFY?
A: ELFY remains on the schedule at Twilight Times Books, bless them. That’s all I can report right now.
Q: Do you plan to bring any of your husband Michael’s stories back out any time soon?
A: Actually, I do. But I must have more energy to first make sure they read well, then try to do the file conversions for e-books — something I’m not particularly good at, and something that worries me. So I need to be feeling better in order to get this done . . . eventually, I should feel better. (Right?)
Q: Why is your health so bad right now?
A: Beats me, but I wish I knew because I’d put a stop to it, pronto.
That’s all I know, but I hope this question-and-answer blog has been informative. Further information waits upon events, as always . . . maybe that’s all we can do in this life, is wait upon events no matter how much we, ourselves, want to be seen as acting rather than reacting.
Rest assured that when there’s some good news to report, I will be very glad to report it. (Promise.)
Just reviewed K.E. Kimbriel’s “Hidden Fires” at SBR
Folks, I was very pleased to feel well enough to review Katharine Eliska Kimbriel’s HIDDEN FIRES, the only book I’d not yet reviewed over at Shiny Book Review (SBR) in her excellent Chronicles of Nuala series. HIDDEN FIRES continues the story of Sheel Atare and his wife, Darame the former free-trader (consummate con-artist) and introduces several new characters, including the naïve young would-be free-trader, Garth Kristinsson, his love interest, Lucy of Dielaan, and the next head of the powerful Dielaan family/clan, Rex.
Now, if you’ve already seen my review, you know I gave this book a slightly lesser grade than the two others, as I gave HIDDEN FIRES an A-minus. (FIRES OF NUALA received an A-plus. FIRE SANCTUARY received a solid A.) I loved this book, thought the writing and world building and plot were great, loved most of the characters (and really, most is all you get in any book), but considering the other two were so exceptionally good . . . and even considering that in many ways I enjoyed this one the best of the three, particularly because of the romance involved (two good romances, even), I just didn’t feel right giving it a full A.
It’s weird, sometimes, how I grade books. There are books I absolutely adore that aren’t worthy of A grades at all (not an A-plus, A, or A-minus) . . . for example, one of my favorite comfort books is P.C. Cast’s GODDESS OF SPRING, which has a great heroine in forty-three-year-old Carolina “Lina” Francesca Santoro, and a fine, sexy, brooding and misunderstood hero in Hades, Lord of the Underworld. Lina is a baker from our world who’s in trouble; her newest bakery is failing despite her many talents, and she needs help. She prays to Demeter, finding a prayer in an old cookbook, and ends up being exchanged for six months with Demeter’s daughter Persephone. In that short span of time, she meets up with Hades, falls in love with him, but knows she cannot stay — and it doesn’t help when Demeter fails to realize that Hades truly is in love with Lina, either.
This is a book that I love, yes, but it gets a solid B from me (maybe a B-plus on a good day) for several reasons. One, there are some really odd editing things going on in that book — stuff Ms. Cast probably couldn’t do anything about when the book first came out, but in the many reprintings since should’ve been addressed. Two, I hate to say it, but I did not buy Persephone’s transformation at all. While we do see some of Persephone in our world, she never once throws a hissy fit at being exchanged against her will by her mother Demeter — because, you see, Persephone did not consent to this whatsoever — and really, I would’ve expected at least one. (Wouldn’t most people be upset if they were in their youth and first blush of beauty one minute, and in a forty-three-year-old body the next?) But rather than being upset, Persephone insists on “upgrading” Lina’s body by exercising, dieting, and revamping Lina’s wardrobe.
Huh?
Another book I’ve read again and again is by Linnea Sinclair, GABRIEL’S GHOST. This, too, is a fine B-level effort by Ms. Sinclair rather than an A, mostly because there were elements of the plot that didn’t seem to fit as well as in other novels by Ms. Sinclair (such as the excellent AN ACCIDENTAL GODDESS or even THE DOWN-HOME ZOMBIE BLUES). Here, I loved the main characters, hated the characters Ms. Sinclair wanted me to hate, and enjoyed the rousing action-adventure — yet there was something in this book that left me feeling unsettled.
This, my friends, is the difference between an A-level of any sort and a B-level of any sort.
So what you see in my review tonight of Ms. Kimbriel’s HIDDEN FIRES is that I thoroughly enjoyed reading it, plan to read it many times in the future, and will never forget the characters nor the situations they’re in nor the world in which all this action takes place. I thought the characters were great and did what they were supposed to, and felt that the returning “mains” — Sheel and Darame — were solid characters that felt real in every possible respect. And I believed that the other two “new mains,” Lucy and Garth, were realistic, honestly written characters that were probably damned difficult to deal with due to Lucy’s rather odd self-abnegation (during most of HIDDEN FIRES, I kept wondering, “What does Lucy want? Not what Rex Dielaan wants — not even what Quin, the good Dielaan wants — what does Lucy want?” But Lucy, herself, never once asked that question of herself.) and Garth’s obvious naïveté while thinking he’s a big-time man of the worlds.
As a writer, these were Ms. Kimbriel’s characters. They make perfect sense, in context. And I believed them, in context.
But as people, they don’t completely make sense to me. Even on Nuala, it seems to me that most of the women are very strong individuals whether they’re healers, Ragärees, or are farmers way out in the Ciedärlien, so why Lucy has so little sense of self — it’s not even a lack of self-esteem so much as seeing Lucy, herself, as important in the cosmic scheme of things (or at least in the microcosmic scheme of things) — is worrisome.
Granted, Ms. Kimbriel couldn’t go there in HIDDEN FIRES because it wasn’t Lucy’s story, exactly. Lucy was a pawn, not a queen, and certainly not a Ragäree — she knew she’d been raised as a glorified “brood mare,” resented it, and wanted more for herself, but — spoiler alerts beyond this mark — backed the wrong horse.
Big time.
And Lucy needed to back that wrong horse so we’d see her eventual redemption, an arc done particularly well by Ms. Kimbriel as Lucy, once again, is a character where very little of who she actually is comes out in anything she says.
While Garth needed to be exactly who he was — a naïve man, yet fundamentally honest enough in his own, twisty way to figure out how to keep Rex Dielaan from hurting everything (including Lucy), even if it meant joining forces with Darame Atarae in the process.
Anyway. This book is exactly what it needs to be, but those two characters were difficult to root for in certain respects despite Ms. Kimbriel’s charming way of writing them. (Not her fault Lucy wouldn’t talk with her, after all. Characters are funny that way.) That’s why even though I adored the book, and thought it’s in many ways the strongest of the three — particularly in the romance department — it received an A-minus.
One final thing about grades, though: Recently at SBR I’ve read a number of books that have been wonderful. This is not always the case, as long-term readers of my book reviews already know. For a trilogy to get no lower than an A-minus out of me for all three books is astonishingly good, and might even be a first.
And the series, as a whole, is a solid A. Which rarely, if ever, happens.
So the upshot is this: Aside from Stephanie Osborn’s great Displaced Detective series (book four will be reviewed by me, here at my own blog, in the coming weeks), I haven’t read three books I’ve liked more in a very, very long time.
Really. You owe it to yourself to read what Ms. Kimbriel has written, is writing and will write.
So do yourself a favor. Go buy one of her excellent books. Then settle down to read.
Elsewise, you’ll be missing something extraordinary.
Internet Memes Aside, Can Anything Stop US Gun Violence?
Folks, I’m still much more sick than well, so I hope this post will make sense. But I’m so tired of watching talking heads discuss various efforts in Washington, D.C., to curb gun violence as none of them seem to really understand what’s at stake.
What’s worse is the latest Internet meme, which goes something like this:
Right-wing gun owner (it’s always someone from the right, as if there are no left-wing gun owners, a logical fallacy): I told off a bunch of granola-eating hippie chicks at the sports bar yesterday!
Right-wing gun owner’s friend: Really?
RWGO: Yeah! I told those hippies that if an intruder was in their house, dammit, they’d want a gun and they’d want it fast!
RWGOF: Yeah? Then what happened?
RWGO: They agreed, put their tails between their legs, and left. How about that?
First off, this meme has got to go for a number of reasons.
- It states the problem in extremely simplistic terms.
- RWGO always wins, because the granola eating hippie chicks are always stupid and can’t reason their way out of a paper bag.
- There’s never any mention of those legitimately trying to curb the spread of gun violence in the United States, such as the various police departments, elements of the U.S. Armed Forces (especially the National Guard and the Army Reserve), and the Border Patrol agents . . . because guess what? Curbing illegal guns coming in from Mexico, which has been mentioned many times on Fox News and other right-wing media sources, is also part of stopping the spread of gun violence!
Look. The National Rifle Association has a much bigger media and lobbying presence than they probably deserve. And the NRA’s stated message on curbing gun violence in this country (such as what happened in Aurora, CO, in Arizona, and at Sandy Hook Elementary School) is this: “The only way you can stop a bad man with a gun is by having a good man with a gun right there.” Which is, in and of itself, an extremely simplistic message if you come right down to it.
There has to be a better way. And I’m thinking that as the United States Senate couldn’t even come up with a simple agreement on background checks — something 86% of the country supports (including most Republicans and gun owners of all political persuasions) — we’re going to have to look outside the Congress to do it.
So whom should be we looking at, if the Congress is not capable or qualified to study this issue? (Or perhaps even to ask the right questions, if the recent debate on the various amendments is any judge. Mind, I appreciate principled objection, but so many of the legislators who voted against the background check legislation seemed like the blind leading the blind.)
Perhaps we need to look at the various police departments, to start with. What do most sheriffs suggest when it comes to gun violence? Do they think background checks will help? (Why, or why not?)
Next, there is one thing most of my right-wing friends have agreed with from day one, and that’s that everyone who owns a gun should be properly trained. I think that mandating a certain number of hours at the firing range for all gun owners (but most especially new ones) might be something various state legislatures can pursue. And if you want to be stationed in a school (or you’re already a teacher, principal, or the like), taking an extra course on how to deal with pressure situations would not be amiss.
Because taking the training may at least help curb the incidents where someone who isn’t trained has a gun, and it goes off. (Like Plaxico Burress.) Sometimes, no one is hurt when this happens, but most of the time, someone is hurt or killed.
Finally, there needs to be a determination of what kinds of mental illness are the most dangerous. One of the very few decent points I’ve heard from any right-wing pundits is that mental illness is a slippery slope. Grief is often classified as a mental illness (it isn’t); having panic attacks is classified as a mental illness (which isn’t anywhere near as severe as someone overtly psychotic); someone who’s bipolar but always takes his/her medicine is still mentally ill, but has a controlled illness — and should not that person have a gun if he or she wants one?
Back to the Internet meme, though.
If someone came up to me in a coffee house, or in a sports bar, and said to me, “Hey, Barb! I know you don’t like guns, but if someone was in your house and had a gun and was ten feet away, wouldn’t you want one?,” do you want to know my answer?
“Hell, no, I don’t want one!” I’d say. “I’d rather have a baseball bat. That’s something where, even if the intruder gets it away from me, I’d at least get one good whack in — and it might even work to knock that gun out of the guy’s hand.”
Because, really. I know I don’t like guns, I’ve not been trained to use one, and even if I went and learned at a rifle range or whatnot, I’d still be way below par because it’s really not my skill. (Plus, hello? I have carpal tunnel syndrome. This wouldn’t make it easy for me to control a firearm. Just sayin’.)
At any rate, what I’m trying to get at is that somehow, the left and right are now so polarized that Internet memes, like the one I discussed before, are taken at face value by many of my right-leaning friends. And that’s as wrong as someone saying, “Background checks will get rid of all gun violence!,” something my right-leaning friends would automatically abhor (and rightly).
At this point, I don’t know what the hopes are for an honest dialogue among regular, honest Americans of all political persuasions. I tend to think that way too many of my left-leaning friends don’t know any right-leaning people (or if they do, they don’t see any value in most of what they say), and that it’s the same way for my right-leaning friends — they see very little value in whatever their counterparts on the left (or in the center) have to say.
That’s sad. That’s even shameful, considering how we as a country were founded because of a bunch of ornery dissenters.
But it’s where we’re at. And because I’ve seen this Internet meme one too many times in the past twenty-four to forty-eight hours, I just had to speak up and say, “This meme is stupid. Can’t we all use some logic, and just figure out a solution to these problems already?”
Because one thing’s for sure. Our Congress is not about to do thing one about it.
———
Note: This is a heavily divisive issue. Many of my friends on both sides have hair triggers and are extremely upset. I want a dialogue, something that hasn’t yet occurred at the national level — I’d like to know what, if anything, aside from better training for people who own firearms might offer some hope to those who’ve lost loved ones to gun violence.
Further note: Comments must be polite, or they will be deleted. (You have been warned.)
Terror in Boston on Patriots’ Day
Yesterday, I thought the only thing of importance I’d do all day was to go in and pick up my prescription for antibiotics.
Sure, I knew it was Patriots’ Day in Boston, and that the Boston Marathon was underway. But I hadn’t a clue that by midway Monday afternoon, over 180 people would be hurt and at least three killed due to at least two bombs.
These were cowardly acts of terrorism, though no one’s sure as of yet whether we’re dealing with a foreign threat or if this came from our own people (domestic terrorism).
At any rate, I picked up my medication, saw the typical highlights of people running in Boston (sans results; they’d just started), and went to get some rest.
When I got back up again, the airwaves were filled with scenes of horror and violence, along with many scenes of heroism from first responders and other, trained medical and non-medical personnel. They confirmed both the worst in humanity (the bombs) and the best (the heroism) in one, fell swoop.
Pete Williams of NBC and MSNBC has had the best reportage so far, and what he’s said as of 11:00 AM CDT is this: There are many leads. There are many, many pictures that have been turned into the Boston Police Department, the FBI, and other agencies. And as much as is humanly possible, all available leads will be checked out, while the time values on all the pictures will be synchronized in order to perhaps find something, anything, out of the ordinary.
And thus find whoever did this.
As a writer, there’s much I could speculate upon at this time, I suppose. There are aspects of the two known bombs that worry me, most particularly the fact that one of the bombs, according to Boston resident and former WTMJ-620 AM sports anchor Trenni Kusnierik, exploded at a well-known running store. (She was interviewed by WTMJ-TV, Channel 4 in Milwaukee, and her interview was shown around 10:35 p.m.) And the very fact that something so terrible could happen at an innocent sporting event — one in which 96 different countries took part — sickens me beyond anything this nasty bronchitis could ever do.
All I know is this: I hope the FBI and the Boston PD will find whoever did this, and prosecute this person or people to the fullest extent of the law. Because runners should be safe at the Boston Marathon.
And so should the spectators.
Barb Caffrey's Blog 