On this Thanksgiving Day 2007, it is natural to think back to Thanksgiving Days past and reminisce over fond memories. In the Dunnevant Family, we have seen our table grow over the years. When we think of the sheer volume of food consumed around this table since 1950, it is staggering. The scores of turkeys, pigs and chickens who have given the ultimate sacrifice to feed this family gives one pause. Nevertheless, it is a special day in the history of our family. However, it can also be somewhat . . . chaotic. I wonder . . .
I wonder what it would have been like if the Dunnevant Family had been in charge back on that first Thanksgiving Day in Jamestown . . . hmmm . . .
Mom: Emmett!! I beseech thee . . . come hither with that turkey! It is nigh the seventh hour and that bird hath not yet been cleaned? HALF THE DAY hath perished!!
Dad: Calmeth thy spirit, Betty. The sun hath been up a mere two hours. Wherefore doth thou reason that half the day hath perished?
Mom: There thou goest making mirth at my expense! Thou shalt singeth a different tune when this house shall be filled with savages demanding to be fed!
Dad: Be still, my wife. This meal shall come together in the course of time like all others before it.
Mom: I know of no divine incantation that can speaketh this meal onto the table! Bring hither our children to help. I cannot doeth it all!
Dad: I shall fetch them from their idleness.
Linda: Mother?
Mom: Make haste and get thee to preparing the maize pudding and berry casserole.
Linda: Why doth thou always employ me as thy slave while Douglas is allowed to scurry about this house with his exceedingly ill temper, vowing to SMITE US ALL IN THE MOUTH?
Mom: Leaveth Douglas alone! He is but an innocent child. Cease with thy vexing, and get thee busy with the maize pudding.
Linda: Why must we have maize pudding? Is it not enough that we have maize cereal for breakfast, maize cakes for lunch . . .?
Mom: Complaineth thou about the abundant maize crop these past many years? I should think that a thankful heart is in order.
Linda: You are right, Mother. Still, I grow weary of so repetitive a diet. Might’nt we barter a sack of maize for one of Sir Ukrop’s sheet cakes?
Donnie: What is that heavenly aroma wafting through the air?
Linda: Predictable! Only the smell of food can implore you to drop your fife and fiddle and desist with your annoying music-making!
Mom: Linda! Retire thy caustic tongue and apologize to your brother! His music-making bringeth joy to this house and, with increasing frequency, causeth my heart to flutter within me!
Dad: I have received disturbing news, dear family. I must leave at once to visit the home of William McClandish. He is sorely vexed with his wife and contemplates putting her away privately. As God’s servant in this colony, I must provide counsel.
Paula: William McClandish is vexed with his wife??? That is indeed rich! That brute beast of a man is lucky to even have a wife. I find him offensive in every way and entirely lacking in any social grace. And now this vile creature hath caused, once again, our Father to be torn from hearth and home in the most untimely manner.
Dad: Let not this trouble your heart, Paula. I shall return in time for the meal.
Donnie: Father, Paula speaketh the truth. How long hath thou been the parson of this contemptible village? Verily, I say that it is 1621 and past time for thou to be given an assistant parson.
Mom: Well, I’ll be-eth John Brown! An assistant parson? Our God owns the cattle on a thousand hills . . . Perhaps such a thing is possible?
[knock on the door]
Mom: Getteth the door, Donnie. Who could be troubling us at this hour? Might it be someone in need of a few coins from my Giveth-Away Fund?
Donnie: Mother, it is Squanto!
Mom: Squanto! Blesseth your heart, noble savage. I am so grateful for all of your help this past year with the maize crop.
Linda: Indeed! The bountiful maize crop warmeth my heart!
Squanto: Mrs. D is fine woman, and Squanto lucky to be invited to big dinner when sun is tall in sky.
Mom: Mentioneth it not! What bringest thou here 5 hours early, pray tell?
Squanto: Hereth is the thing . . . I knoweth that Mrs. D invite Squanto to big meal, but Squanto hath many guests and relatives from many tribes beyond the great River James who hath descended on Squanto’s teepee unannounced. Squanto wonders if Mrs. D hath room for a few more?
Mom: Mrs. D is forever in your debt. All of Squanto’s guests are always welcomed at our table. The Lord shall provide out of his bounty. Me-thinks this should be a tradition that we honor every year.
Linda: Shall I now be cursed with an annual Maize Day? Perish the contemptible thought!
Mom: No! It shall be a day to give thanks for the manifold blessings of life. A day to bow before God in humility around the table of plenty.
Donnie: It has come to me! It shall be called “Thanksgiving Day.” I shall compose a song post-haste . . . [singing] “We gather together to ask the Lord’s blessing . . . “ A fine start! Linda, fetch me my fiddle and quill and some parchment!
Paula: THIS shall NEVER catch on. It needs . . . GIFTS!
THE END
Friday, November 18, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Thinking The Unthinkable....No NBA Season?
I suppose I’ll always remember where I was when I got the news that the NBA collective bargaining negotiations had broken down and that the 2011-12 season was in jeopardy. It’s one of those iconic memories, like when JFK was shot, or 9/11. I was channel surfing between the History channel and Monday Night Football, I think it was, or maybe I saw it on Drudge, whatever. All I know is, how much more can one nation take? I mean, first we survive 8 years of W, then we elect Bambi as our President, and now we have to face the very real possibility that there may be no NBA season. I know that bad things come in threes but this is ridiculous.
No NBA? You might as well say, No more asparagus for dessert, or, No more Chevy Volt!! Just what do they expect us to do between 11 and 11:15 every night if there are no monster dunk high lights on ESPN? Just where do they expect Bill Walton to find gainful employment, for God’s sake? I’m not here to take sides. The Owners and the Players both make valid points. But there are lots of things that neither side has considered in their long deliberations. Here are just a few:
1. Unemployment is already over 9%. Has anyone thought about the impact that no NBA games will have on the Tattoo industry in this country?
2. Is the Toupee business healthy enough to survive an unemployed Marv Albert?
3. Have Strip Club owners been consulted on what the impact would be of having no NBA players making it rain up in here?
But it’s not just about money. What about the nightly traditions of NBA games that we have all grown to love. Think of all we will be missing, think of all we will NOT get to see every night on TNT:
*entire teams of elite athletes that play no defense
*point guards who routinely palm the ball
*amazing cross-over dribble drives to the basket that feature 3-4 steps between dribbles
*the playoff intensity feel to routine regular season games between the Memphis Grizzlies and the Portland Trail Blazers
*players who earn 20 million dollars a year but can only manage to make 55% of their free throws
*the Dream Team
*Lebron James’ pregame ritual of throwing chalk in the air in a desperate cry for help, “Look at ME!!!”
*Spike Lee on the front row at Madison Square Garden in a desperate cry for help, “Look at ME too!! I used to make movies, now I just hang out here and try to get on Sports Center!”
*All-Star weekend and the resulting perp-walk highlights.
*Magic Johnson TV commercials for Rent-A-Center
It’s sure to be a long and boring winter. At some point the beleaguered and forgotten fan might well rise up in anger at the selfishness of both sides. In the spirit of the times perhaps they should start an “Occupy” movement. Fans could Occupy the Boston Garden and the Staples Center with signs that say, “WE ARE THE 1%...who care about the NBA”.
No NBA? You might as well say, No more asparagus for dessert, or, No more Chevy Volt!! Just what do they expect us to do between 11 and 11:15 every night if there are no monster dunk high lights on ESPN? Just where do they expect Bill Walton to find gainful employment, for God’s sake? I’m not here to take sides. The Owners and the Players both make valid points. But there are lots of things that neither side has considered in their long deliberations. Here are just a few:
1. Unemployment is already over 9%. Has anyone thought about the impact that no NBA games will have on the Tattoo industry in this country?
2. Is the Toupee business healthy enough to survive an unemployed Marv Albert?
3. Have Strip Club owners been consulted on what the impact would be of having no NBA players making it rain up in here?
But it’s not just about money. What about the nightly traditions of NBA games that we have all grown to love. Think of all we will be missing, think of all we will NOT get to see every night on TNT:
*entire teams of elite athletes that play no defense
*point guards who routinely palm the ball
*amazing cross-over dribble drives to the basket that feature 3-4 steps between dribbles
*the playoff intensity feel to routine regular season games between the Memphis Grizzlies and the Portland Trail Blazers
*players who earn 20 million dollars a year but can only manage to make 55% of their free throws
*the Dream Team
*Lebron James’ pregame ritual of throwing chalk in the air in a desperate cry for help, “Look at ME!!!”
*Spike Lee on the front row at Madison Square Garden in a desperate cry for help, “Look at ME too!! I used to make movies, now I just hang out here and try to get on Sports Center!”
*All-Star weekend and the resulting perp-walk highlights.
*Magic Johnson TV commercials for Rent-A-Center
It’s sure to be a long and boring winter. At some point the beleaguered and forgotten fan might well rise up in anger at the selfishness of both sides. In the spirit of the times perhaps they should start an “Occupy” movement. Fans could Occupy the Boston Garden and the Staples Center with signs that say, “WE ARE THE 1%...who care about the NBA”.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Week 11..... a protest and one fantasy pick
Its week eleven of my college football prediction blogs and, under the circumstances, I’m not feeling it. Somehow, I have a disgusting taste in my mouth concerning the sport that will prevent me from summoning the proper levels of wit and frivolity required to proceed. I will, however, make one fantasy pick as follows:
Nebraska vs. Penn State
It’s senior day in Happy Valley. That’s a real shame for the seniors. It’s not their fault that the morally indifferent athletic department tolerated a known pedophile in their midst for 17 years. It’s not their fault that every coach that will be on the sidelines or in the booth for this game was complicit in the cover-up. So, it’s a real shame that they will have to go out this way. But in a perfect world, the Nebraska Cornhuskers would annihilate Penn State today. They would win the toss, elect to receive, and run the kickoff back for a touchdown. Then they would try and succeed at an on-side kick, and on the first play from scrimmage, Rex Burkhead would run off tackle, and plow through 6 defenders for a touchdown. Then Nebraska would go for two, and after only 35 seconds had run off the clock, the score would be 15-0. Then Nebraska’s famed black shirts would physically man-handle the Penn State offense into multiple turnovers. By halftime it would be 72-0 and the blue shirted fans would be shamed to the parking lot. Like I said, this is a fantasy pick, but can’t a fella dream?
It’s practically impossible to find humor in a story this evil, but I actually have. My crack research staff,( er..me), discovered that in the Penn State book store on campus as recently as yesterday, one could still purchase a copy of Jerry Sandusky’s Autobiography. Now, before I share the name of this book, it might help to set this up by imagining what other despicable men in history might have named THEIR autobiographies, had they had a chance to write them….
Richard Nixon……” Actually, I AM a Crook”
Josef Stalin……….”To Make an Omelet You have to Break 30 Million eggs”
Gen. William T. Sherman……..”A Walk In the Country”
Adolph Hitler…..” A Funny Thing Happened on the way to my Bar Mitzvah”
Alexander The Great……….”Community Organizing Before It Was Cool”
Josef Mengele…….”Preventative Medicine”
So, I didn’t even know that Jerry Sandusky had led an eventful enough life to even write an autobiography, but up in State College, Pa. apparently all it takes is lifetime employment in the football program. Anyway, the title to this holiday season must-read? Wait for it…..”TOUCHED”. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. The most infamous molester of young boys on the planet titled his autobiography, “Touched”.
Nebraska vs. Penn State
It’s senior day in Happy Valley. That’s a real shame for the seniors. It’s not their fault that the morally indifferent athletic department tolerated a known pedophile in their midst for 17 years. It’s not their fault that every coach that will be on the sidelines or in the booth for this game was complicit in the cover-up. So, it’s a real shame that they will have to go out this way. But in a perfect world, the Nebraska Cornhuskers would annihilate Penn State today. They would win the toss, elect to receive, and run the kickoff back for a touchdown. Then they would try and succeed at an on-side kick, and on the first play from scrimmage, Rex Burkhead would run off tackle, and plow through 6 defenders for a touchdown. Then Nebraska would go for two, and after only 35 seconds had run off the clock, the score would be 15-0. Then Nebraska’s famed black shirts would physically man-handle the Penn State offense into multiple turnovers. By halftime it would be 72-0 and the blue shirted fans would be shamed to the parking lot. Like I said, this is a fantasy pick, but can’t a fella dream?
It’s practically impossible to find humor in a story this evil, but I actually have. My crack research staff,( er..me), discovered that in the Penn State book store on campus as recently as yesterday, one could still purchase a copy of Jerry Sandusky’s Autobiography. Now, before I share the name of this book, it might help to set this up by imagining what other despicable men in history might have named THEIR autobiographies, had they had a chance to write them….
Richard Nixon……” Actually, I AM a Crook”
Josef Stalin……….”To Make an Omelet You have to Break 30 Million eggs”
Gen. William T. Sherman……..”A Walk In the Country”
Adolph Hitler…..” A Funny Thing Happened on the way to my Bar Mitzvah”
Alexander The Great……….”Community Organizing Before It Was Cool”
Josef Mengele…….”Preventative Medicine”
So, I didn’t even know that Jerry Sandusky had led an eventful enough life to even write an autobiography, but up in State College, Pa. apparently all it takes is lifetime employment in the football program. Anyway, the title to this holiday season must-read? Wait for it…..”TOUCHED”. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. The most infamous molester of young boys on the planet titled his autobiography, “Touched”.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
The Moral Cowards at Penn State
Joe Paterno cashed his first check from Penn State University eight years before I was born. In all my time on this earth that I have been aware enough to know what the game of football was, he has been the head coach of the Nittany Lions. And now he’s out. His career over, his reputation in tatters. The story broke earlier this week and has gathered sickening momentum with each new revelation. I have listened to the news reports, listened to the talk shows and today actually read the Grand Jury report. I would caution everyone to not voice an opinion on this subject until you have read that report. It will disabuse you of any notion that Paterno is in any way a victim in this story. Joe Paterno IS Penn State. He could have acted on information in his possession at any time since 1998 and saved what will eventually be over a hundred boys a lifetime of shame. On his word alone Jerry Sandusky could have been banished from the campus for life. But instead, a known pedophile was allowed access to the weight room as recently as last week.
It must be strange to be employed at a place where you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting a statue of yourself, or seeing a plaque on the wall testifying to your selfless generosity. For Paterno, it wasn’t possible to do so and maintain sufficient humility to realize his moral obligation to the victims of this tragedy. I feel nothing but pity for the man. I used to tell my Sunday School class of high school boys that it takes years of hard work and diligence to build a good reputation, but only 30 minutes to destroy it. Last week there was talk of a Congressional Medal of Freedom for JOPA, now, he’s lucky he’s not in handcuffs.
For me, however, the most troubling aspect to the whole sordid mess is the matter of Mike McQueary. It was he who walked into the shower in 2002 and witnessed Sandusky raping a ten year old boy. At the time, Mr. McQueary was a 28 year old assistant coach and former team captain of the football team. He was and is a large and powerfully built man. According to the Grand Jury, upon seeing this defenseless child being abused by a 58 year old man, McQueary turned and ran out of the building and called his Dad for advice as to how he should proceed. After this telephone call, the decision was made to go to Paterno…in the morning of the NEXT day. Mike McQueary not only still has his job, he will be coaching on the sidelines this Saturday as Penn State takes on Nebraska.
To any man reading this blog, I put this question to you. What in God’s name has happened to us? When did this country start producing such moral and physical cowards? Can anyone imagine a similar reaction from a robust 28 year old man stumbling upon such a scene in say, 1950? Would any of you need advice from your fathers if the ten year old in question were your son? Would any of you run from such horror if it were your nephew? There are many things that I don’t know for sure about myself, but one thing I’m positively sure of, if I had walked in on that scene, one of two things would have happened. Either Jerry Sandusky would have ended up in the hospital or I would have ended up in the hospital. No matter what, that child would have been freed from the clutches of that bastard, not because I’m some brave hero, but because I just walked in on a barbaric assault and as a human being, especially a man, I have an obligation to protect that boy!! If I had called my Father to ask his advice, my father would have disowned me and rightfully accused me of being a coward. The fact that McQueary will be on the sidelines this Saturday proves that Penn State is still utterly clueless.
It must be strange to be employed at a place where you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting a statue of yourself, or seeing a plaque on the wall testifying to your selfless generosity. For Paterno, it wasn’t possible to do so and maintain sufficient humility to realize his moral obligation to the victims of this tragedy. I feel nothing but pity for the man. I used to tell my Sunday School class of high school boys that it takes years of hard work and diligence to build a good reputation, but only 30 minutes to destroy it. Last week there was talk of a Congressional Medal of Freedom for JOPA, now, he’s lucky he’s not in handcuffs.
For me, however, the most troubling aspect to the whole sordid mess is the matter of Mike McQueary. It was he who walked into the shower in 2002 and witnessed Sandusky raping a ten year old boy. At the time, Mr. McQueary was a 28 year old assistant coach and former team captain of the football team. He was and is a large and powerfully built man. According to the Grand Jury, upon seeing this defenseless child being abused by a 58 year old man, McQueary turned and ran out of the building and called his Dad for advice as to how he should proceed. After this telephone call, the decision was made to go to Paterno…in the morning of the NEXT day. Mike McQueary not only still has his job, he will be coaching on the sidelines this Saturday as Penn State takes on Nebraska.
To any man reading this blog, I put this question to you. What in God’s name has happened to us? When did this country start producing such moral and physical cowards? Can anyone imagine a similar reaction from a robust 28 year old man stumbling upon such a scene in say, 1950? Would any of you need advice from your fathers if the ten year old in question were your son? Would any of you run from such horror if it were your nephew? There are many things that I don’t know for sure about myself, but one thing I’m positively sure of, if I had walked in on that scene, one of two things would have happened. Either Jerry Sandusky would have ended up in the hospital or I would have ended up in the hospital. No matter what, that child would have been freed from the clutches of that bastard, not because I’m some brave hero, but because I just walked in on a barbaric assault and as a human being, especially a man, I have an obligation to protect that boy!! If I had called my Father to ask his advice, my father would have disowned me and rightfully accused me of being a coward. The fact that McQueary will be on the sidelines this Saturday proves that Penn State is still utterly clueless.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Book Reviews!!!!
28-29. Orthodoxy, The Everlasting Man……………G.K.Chesterton
I mentioned in an earlier post my embarrassingly late discovery of Mr. Chesterton. After reading both of these books, I have come to the conclusion that I’m not smart enough for him. I get his jokes, at least most of them, and I can follow his general arguments, but when I wade into the details, I get lost. Orthodoxy is a brilliant defense of bedrock Christian theology and an account of the author’s gradual conversion. It is brilliantly argued and told with a generous helping of scorching wit. Of the two, Orthodoxy has the lighter touch. The Everlasting Man, on the other hand, is nothing less than Chesterton’s whole view of world history as informed by the Incarnation, and I do mean all of history since he starts with the cave man! Maybe its something that has to be read several times, or maybe since it was written specifically as a rebuttal of H.G. Wells’ Outline of History, which I have not read, I don’t fully understand the context. But despite all of this, it was not a waste of time. I enjoyed both books immensely, if for no other reason than the fact that it is good for the soul to be intellectually humbled.
30. Henderson the Rain King………………………Saul Bellow
I picked this up at Barnes & Noble for $4.95 from the modern classics table. I’ve heard of Saul Bellow and his Pulitzer prize, Nobel winning self, not to mention his three National Book Awards, so I figured I should give it a try. This is more of a fable than a novel. The story is about a troubled American millionaire, who becomes bored with his life and somehow ends up in deepest darkest Africa on some sort of quest for..something. He ends up adopted by a remote tribe and through happenstance makes it rain and so becomes beloved. But honestly, with each turned page I found myself thinking…”THIS guy won all of those awards???” Again, I probably am displaying my literary cluelessness here, but I just don’t get it. The writing is terrible! It’s disjointed, the plot is unbelievable and worst of all, not very compelling. My daughter is studying English Literature in grad school at Wake Forest. I sincerely hope none of her professors read this blog. Wouldn’t want them to know that her Dad is such a Philistine.
31. Holidays in Heck……………………………………P.J. O’Rourke
P.J. is one of my all time favorite writers. My bookcases are adorned with 10 of his books. He is best described as a “political humorists”, but is much more than that. He has been a war correspondent, and has written hilarious accounts of his epic travels to every hell-hole on the planet. One of his best books was from 23 years ago called Holidays in Hell. This updated version, instead of describing the most God-forsaken places on the planet, describes instead, the family vacation adventures of P.J. now that he has been domesticated by a wife and three young children, and humbled by a cancerous hemorrhoid or “ass-cancer” as he calls it. The result is an intelligent, uproarious romp from Venice to Vermont, from Kabul to Kyrgyzstan, from Disneyland to the flight deck of the USS Theodore Roosevelt. Saul Bellow could learn a thing or two about writing readable books from my man O’Rourke!
32 thru 37 Six more books by Dean Koontz
Earlier this year I discovered Dean Koontz. My last book review featured four of his books and my fascination with his style of writing. Well, now it’s an official addiction. These six offerings run the gamut from science fiction to murderous love story, but all have one thing in common, the author’s clear vision of good vs. evil. The Good Guy presents us with an ordinary man who is mistaken for a hit man and must make a snap decision whether to just walk away, or try to save the intended target, a woman he doesn’t know. The Husband is about a landscape architect who one minute is happily toiling in the soil of some project when he gets a phone call from a stranger who informs him that he has his wife and wants 2 million dollars for her release. When he explains to the man that he owns a landscape company with only $13,000 in the bank, the kidnapper says, “ Yes, I know. But if you love her, you’ll find a way”. In the first 6 pages of this book, I am totally hooked. Your Heart Belongs To Me is about a man who receives a heart transplant by short cutting the system because of his wealth and influence but then to his horror finds that the donor’s wacked twin sister is tracking him down to get it back…AWESOME!! Forever Odd is about a very cool character named Odd Thomas, a short-order cook in a small town with no special talent except the fact that he sees dead people and that the ghost of Elvis lives in his two room apartment. Its one of four books with this character and not the first so I read it out of order, but it stands on its own and was very good. The Darkest Evening of the year can only be described as a suspense thriller where one of the main characters is a Golden Retriever. A reviewer from People magazine summed it up perfectly, “Think Silence of the Lambs meets Marley & Me!!” It was terrifying and heartwarming at the same time, no small writing feet. Finally, the fifth book in Koontz’ Frankenstein series, The Dead Town was the craziest of the six. It is a modern re-telling of the famous Frankenstein story and even though I read the last the final book in the series it was easy to follow and enjoyable to the extreme. Koontz continues to amaze. I may have found a new hero.
I mentioned in an earlier post my embarrassingly late discovery of Mr. Chesterton. After reading both of these books, I have come to the conclusion that I’m not smart enough for him. I get his jokes, at least most of them, and I can follow his general arguments, but when I wade into the details, I get lost. Orthodoxy is a brilliant defense of bedrock Christian theology and an account of the author’s gradual conversion. It is brilliantly argued and told with a generous helping of scorching wit. Of the two, Orthodoxy has the lighter touch. The Everlasting Man, on the other hand, is nothing less than Chesterton’s whole view of world history as informed by the Incarnation, and I do mean all of history since he starts with the cave man! Maybe its something that has to be read several times, or maybe since it was written specifically as a rebuttal of H.G. Wells’ Outline of History, which I have not read, I don’t fully understand the context. But despite all of this, it was not a waste of time. I enjoyed both books immensely, if for no other reason than the fact that it is good for the soul to be intellectually humbled.
30. Henderson the Rain King………………………Saul Bellow
I picked this up at Barnes & Noble for $4.95 from the modern classics table. I’ve heard of Saul Bellow and his Pulitzer prize, Nobel winning self, not to mention his three National Book Awards, so I figured I should give it a try. This is more of a fable than a novel. The story is about a troubled American millionaire, who becomes bored with his life and somehow ends up in deepest darkest Africa on some sort of quest for..something. He ends up adopted by a remote tribe and through happenstance makes it rain and so becomes beloved. But honestly, with each turned page I found myself thinking…”THIS guy won all of those awards???” Again, I probably am displaying my literary cluelessness here, but I just don’t get it. The writing is terrible! It’s disjointed, the plot is unbelievable and worst of all, not very compelling. My daughter is studying English Literature in grad school at Wake Forest. I sincerely hope none of her professors read this blog. Wouldn’t want them to know that her Dad is such a Philistine.
31. Holidays in Heck……………………………………P.J. O’Rourke
P.J. is one of my all time favorite writers. My bookcases are adorned with 10 of his books. He is best described as a “political humorists”, but is much more than that. He has been a war correspondent, and has written hilarious accounts of his epic travels to every hell-hole on the planet. One of his best books was from 23 years ago called Holidays in Hell. This updated version, instead of describing the most God-forsaken places on the planet, describes instead, the family vacation adventures of P.J. now that he has been domesticated by a wife and three young children, and humbled by a cancerous hemorrhoid or “ass-cancer” as he calls it. The result is an intelligent, uproarious romp from Venice to Vermont, from Kabul to Kyrgyzstan, from Disneyland to the flight deck of the USS Theodore Roosevelt. Saul Bellow could learn a thing or two about writing readable books from my man O’Rourke!
32 thru 37 Six more books by Dean Koontz
Earlier this year I discovered Dean Koontz. My last book review featured four of his books and my fascination with his style of writing. Well, now it’s an official addiction. These six offerings run the gamut from science fiction to murderous love story, but all have one thing in common, the author’s clear vision of good vs. evil. The Good Guy presents us with an ordinary man who is mistaken for a hit man and must make a snap decision whether to just walk away, or try to save the intended target, a woman he doesn’t know. The Husband is about a landscape architect who one minute is happily toiling in the soil of some project when he gets a phone call from a stranger who informs him that he has his wife and wants 2 million dollars for her release. When he explains to the man that he owns a landscape company with only $13,000 in the bank, the kidnapper says, “ Yes, I know. But if you love her, you’ll find a way”. In the first 6 pages of this book, I am totally hooked. Your Heart Belongs To Me is about a man who receives a heart transplant by short cutting the system because of his wealth and influence but then to his horror finds that the donor’s wacked twin sister is tracking him down to get it back…AWESOME!! Forever Odd is about a very cool character named Odd Thomas, a short-order cook in a small town with no special talent except the fact that he sees dead people and that the ghost of Elvis lives in his two room apartment. Its one of four books with this character and not the first so I read it out of order, but it stands on its own and was very good. The Darkest Evening of the year can only be described as a suspense thriller where one of the main characters is a Golden Retriever. A reviewer from People magazine summed it up perfectly, “Think Silence of the Lambs meets Marley & Me!!” It was terrifying and heartwarming at the same time, no small writing feet. Finally, the fifth book in Koontz’ Frankenstein series, The Dead Town was the craziest of the six. It is a modern re-telling of the famous Frankenstein story and even though I read the last the final book in the series it was easy to follow and enjoyable to the extreme. Koontz continues to amaze. I may have found a new hero.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Christmas vs. Thanksgiving...You Be The Judge
November is here. That means that the days are getting shorter and colder, and that the Holiday season will soon be upon us with all of its frenzied list making and doomed expectations. Thanksgiving and Christmas, separated by 31 calendar days and roughly $5,000 in out of pocket expenses. Let me now compare and contrast these two memory filled days.
Thanksgiving is uniquely American. We all know its Pilgrim roots. We all know the menu. We all know of the football games, and the Macy parade. As a man, I readily admit that it’s the perfect holiday, and I totally understand why Grandmothers, Mothers, Sisters and Daughters might not be equally enthusiastic. That’s why I capitalized each of them, as a measure of my undying respect for all that they do to maintain the culinary tradition, and with the sincere hope that they never rise up and throw off the chains that have bound them to the stove on this blessed day for now some 300 years. When I was a teenager, the day would start with squirrel hunting with my best friend Al. He was a slightly better shot but mostly the squirrels were safe from our inept. 22 rifles. Now the day usually starts with leaf raking or other outdoor chores with my kids, who aren’t actually kids anymore, but who are actually both home for a change, so I get to pretend that they are kids. Around noon, we load up in the car and head over to Nanny and Papa’s place. On the way, we all sing, “Over the river and through the woods”, and since it’s MY family, we do so in 4 part harmony. Then Pam officially rings in the season with the first playing of the Carpenters Christmas album or the velvet tones of Nat King Cole. Our kids not only know every word, but in Patrick’s case, each orchestral flourish. I listen to virtually the exact same family banter each and every year on this 20 minute drive and each and every year I discover the closest thing to perfect peace that I have ever known.
There are usually 20 people or so at Thanksgiving, although that number has been on the rise gradually over the years with the addition of newborns and boyfriends. At some point it will become a logistical nightmare. Who am I kidding? It’s a logistical nightmare already, but that’s a problem for the women to figure out. Meanwhile, its time for a football game. The players are ready, the team captains are my brother Donnie and me. Ryan keeps all the stats and can tell you how many catches he had in 2009’s classic come-from-behind victory for Donnie’s Dominators. I counter with the observation that statistics are for LOSERS, and besides, if we had real referees in that game Doug’s Destroyers would have won easily. After my team wins when Patrick jukes Ryan out of his gigantic shoes for the winning touchdown, it’s time to gather around the table. In our family, the table is a thing of beauty with no small amount of artistic flair. There are brightly colored leaves sprinkled randomly on the white table cloth. There are a couple of cornucopia horns of plenty. There are usually a few tacky turkey statues round about, as if THEY had anything to be thankful for. And then there are the place cards. Yes, no Dunnevant/Schwartz/Roop event can be complete without a seating chart. Luckily, this feature is a matter of organization, not politics, since we have no continual grudges to message in our family. We all sorta get along. It’s truly remarkable . I try to manipulate the chart to get a seat near the middle of the table so as to insure access to hot rolls. There is turkey and ham, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes with gravy, green beans, corn(or what the Indians called “maze”). There’s also the dreaded and misconceived corn pudding, the title alone being clear warning of the dangers lurking in such an ill-named dish. There’s sweet tea, water, and coffee. After this heavenly dining experience, we linger at the table in groups of 5 or 6 talking and laughing. We eventually make our way to the large flip-chart easel labeled, “What I’m Thankful For In 2011”. I look at what others have written and see words like “job”, “family”, “healing”, “husband”, “wife”. I pick up the marker and write something. What I should write is, “I’m thankful for the beauty and simplicity of gratitude and how easy it is to express on this wonderful day.”
Christmas is uniquely pagan. Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate everything about Christmas. Parts of it are quite endearing. Putting up the tree and the grand illumination. Our Christmas eve traditions, Christmas Pajamas, reading the Night Before Christmas, putting out the cookies for Santa and the carrots for his reindeer. Going to the candlelight Christmas Eve service at Grove and then to Outback for dinner... all wonderful memories. But, before we can get to that part there’s the list making, the name drawing, the family Christmas website ( don’t ask!!). Then there’s the frustration with the crappy lists, or those family members who wait until the last minute to even make a list and when they do the only thing they put on it is “socks”. I mean, can we at least get a color? Would it kill you to give us some hint of whether you prefer brown, black or blue?? Seriously, “socks” isn’t very specific. Do you want the wool kind that start to sag down around the ankles after two trips through the washing machine, or the kind made out of that stretchy nylon which bite into your shins until they actually leave marks by the end of the day? It’s not just the socks or the lists for that matter, it’s the relentless pursuit required to get it all done in time. Christmas has morphed into a vital monetary injection required to sustain our economic way of life. If suddenly, Americans all decided to divorce the Saviors birth from the buying and exchange of gifts, our economy would be plunged into a depression that would make the 1930’s look like child’s play. Whenever I have cautiously broached even the vague concept of such a thing to our family, I am called unflattering names comparing me to everyone from Ebenezer Scrooge to King Herod. So each year the fruit of our collective labors is all hauled from our loaded cars into the largest room we can find. Each family takes 30 minutes to distribute their pile into the appropriate chair in the ever expanding circle of death that surrounds the largess. Then for the next 6 hours we all enjoy the joy and childlike wonder of watching each family member open each of their presents one by one. Yes, nothing says, “Lets Keep Christ In Christmas”, quite like 6 hours of materialistic glee. Only , the glee part is over usually around the 2 hour and 15 minute mark, when several of the men have nodded off, others are in deep whispered conversations about how they are “never going to do this again”, and everyone else is trying earnestly to look thrilled that the lovely scarf that Jenny just opened goes perfectly with the dress that she almost bought last week while shopping for the Christmas present for Sylvia that she couldn’t find this morning to save her life. Feliz Navidad.
It has been said, by me I think, that Thanksgiving is everything Christmas is supposed to be because there are no presents to gum up the works. I stand by the simple wisdom of that statement.
Thanksgiving is uniquely American. We all know its Pilgrim roots. We all know the menu. We all know of the football games, and the Macy parade. As a man, I readily admit that it’s the perfect holiday, and I totally understand why Grandmothers, Mothers, Sisters and Daughters might not be equally enthusiastic. That’s why I capitalized each of them, as a measure of my undying respect for all that they do to maintain the culinary tradition, and with the sincere hope that they never rise up and throw off the chains that have bound them to the stove on this blessed day for now some 300 years. When I was a teenager, the day would start with squirrel hunting with my best friend Al. He was a slightly better shot but mostly the squirrels were safe from our inept. 22 rifles. Now the day usually starts with leaf raking or other outdoor chores with my kids, who aren’t actually kids anymore, but who are actually both home for a change, so I get to pretend that they are kids. Around noon, we load up in the car and head over to Nanny and Papa’s place. On the way, we all sing, “Over the river and through the woods”, and since it’s MY family, we do so in 4 part harmony. Then Pam officially rings in the season with the first playing of the Carpenters Christmas album or the velvet tones of Nat King Cole. Our kids not only know every word, but in Patrick’s case, each orchestral flourish. I listen to virtually the exact same family banter each and every year on this 20 minute drive and each and every year I discover the closest thing to perfect peace that I have ever known.
There are usually 20 people or so at Thanksgiving, although that number has been on the rise gradually over the years with the addition of newborns and boyfriends. At some point it will become a logistical nightmare. Who am I kidding? It’s a logistical nightmare already, but that’s a problem for the women to figure out. Meanwhile, its time for a football game. The players are ready, the team captains are my brother Donnie and me. Ryan keeps all the stats and can tell you how many catches he had in 2009’s classic come-from-behind victory for Donnie’s Dominators. I counter with the observation that statistics are for LOSERS, and besides, if we had real referees in that game Doug’s Destroyers would have won easily. After my team wins when Patrick jukes Ryan out of his gigantic shoes for the winning touchdown, it’s time to gather around the table. In our family, the table is a thing of beauty with no small amount of artistic flair. There are brightly colored leaves sprinkled randomly on the white table cloth. There are a couple of cornucopia horns of plenty. There are usually a few tacky turkey statues round about, as if THEY had anything to be thankful for. And then there are the place cards. Yes, no Dunnevant/Schwartz/Roop event can be complete without a seating chart. Luckily, this feature is a matter of organization, not politics, since we have no continual grudges to message in our family. We all sorta get along. It’s truly remarkable . I try to manipulate the chart to get a seat near the middle of the table so as to insure access to hot rolls. There is turkey and ham, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes with gravy, green beans, corn(or what the Indians called “maze”). There’s also the dreaded and misconceived corn pudding, the title alone being clear warning of the dangers lurking in such an ill-named dish. There’s sweet tea, water, and coffee. After this heavenly dining experience, we linger at the table in groups of 5 or 6 talking and laughing. We eventually make our way to the large flip-chart easel labeled, “What I’m Thankful For In 2011”. I look at what others have written and see words like “job”, “family”, “healing”, “husband”, “wife”. I pick up the marker and write something. What I should write is, “I’m thankful for the beauty and simplicity of gratitude and how easy it is to express on this wonderful day.”
Christmas is uniquely pagan. Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate everything about Christmas. Parts of it are quite endearing. Putting up the tree and the grand illumination. Our Christmas eve traditions, Christmas Pajamas, reading the Night Before Christmas, putting out the cookies for Santa and the carrots for his reindeer. Going to the candlelight Christmas Eve service at Grove and then to Outback for dinner... all wonderful memories. But, before we can get to that part there’s the list making, the name drawing, the family Christmas website ( don’t ask!!). Then there’s the frustration with the crappy lists, or those family members who wait until the last minute to even make a list and when they do the only thing they put on it is “socks”. I mean, can we at least get a color? Would it kill you to give us some hint of whether you prefer brown, black or blue?? Seriously, “socks” isn’t very specific. Do you want the wool kind that start to sag down around the ankles after two trips through the washing machine, or the kind made out of that stretchy nylon which bite into your shins until they actually leave marks by the end of the day? It’s not just the socks or the lists for that matter, it’s the relentless pursuit required to get it all done in time. Christmas has morphed into a vital monetary injection required to sustain our economic way of life. If suddenly, Americans all decided to divorce the Saviors birth from the buying and exchange of gifts, our economy would be plunged into a depression that would make the 1930’s look like child’s play. Whenever I have cautiously broached even the vague concept of such a thing to our family, I am called unflattering names comparing me to everyone from Ebenezer Scrooge to King Herod. So each year the fruit of our collective labors is all hauled from our loaded cars into the largest room we can find. Each family takes 30 minutes to distribute their pile into the appropriate chair in the ever expanding circle of death that surrounds the largess. Then for the next 6 hours we all enjoy the joy and childlike wonder of watching each family member open each of their presents one by one. Yes, nothing says, “Lets Keep Christ In Christmas”, quite like 6 hours of materialistic glee. Only , the glee part is over usually around the 2 hour and 15 minute mark, when several of the men have nodded off, others are in deep whispered conversations about how they are “never going to do this again”, and everyone else is trying earnestly to look thrilled that the lovely scarf that Jenny just opened goes perfectly with the dress that she almost bought last week while shopping for the Christmas present for Sylvia that she couldn’t find this morning to save her life. Feliz Navidad.
It has been said, by me I think, that Thanksgiving is everything Christmas is supposed to be because there are no presents to gum up the works. I stand by the simple wisdom of that statement.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Week 10....Is there a big game this week?
OK..after 9 weeks of meaningless preliminaries, college football fans have finally arrived at the super bowl. We all saw this game on the schedule a year ago and have been anxiously awaiting the game of the decade ever since. I am referring, of course, to the epic battle being waged today between Mississippi and Kentucky at Commonwealth Stadium in Lexington, Kentucky. Michael Slagle has been so amped up, he hasn’t been able to sleep or keep solid food down for days. So I’ll start this weeks’ picks off with this headline match up.
Mississippi vs. Kentucky
The only thing I am sure of this week is the fact that after this game, one of these teams will have their first victory over an SEC team. Yes, these two programs are a combined 0-9 against conference competition, making this game possibly the worst SEC game to ever be played. But, no doubt, our buddy Slagle will be there up in the nose-bleed section , all painted up in Kentucky blue screaming his lungs out for each rare Wildcat first down. The over and under on Ky. First downs, I believe , is 10. Anyway, to the relief of many this game will eventually end and Slagle’s Wildcats will have their first SEC victory, 10-9.
UVA vs. Maryland
Every time I’m sure that Virginia is done they go and pull something like beating Miami. So I should be encouraged, I suppose. But they are, at the end of the day, the Cavaliers. How can a football team mascot be so cavalierly named? Anyway, should they beat Maryland? Yes. WILL they beat Maryland, get that illusive sixth victory, become bowl-eligible , and cement Mike London’s future? ( cue up Jeopardy theme music). The answer is What is “ no way”. Maryland 17-16.
UR vs. Old Dominion
How bad has the 2011 edition of my Spiders been? Well, in addition to all of the turnovers, inept coaching, blown leads and penalties, now comes the humiliation of getting beaten by an in- state rival who has only fielded a football team for 3 years. But this will be the bottom from which my boys will rise, like a phoenix out of the ashes, to once again compete for a national title…ODU 28-17.
Kansas State vs. Oklahoma State
Two teams with good records, one undefeated, the other with only one loss. The problem for K State is that the loss was last week to the OTHER team from Oklahoma, and it wasn’t just any loss but an ass-whippin on national television. I don’t think this game will be any different. Oklahoma State 58-17.
South Carolina vs. Arkansas
If it weren’t for the “other” big game, this match-up would get top billing. Arkansas has the great passing game but the third worst defense in the conference. South Carolina has the third best defense behind “you know who” but an indifferent offense that has gotten worse rather than better over the course of the season. Arkansas wins 35-30.
Alabama vs. LSU
Two best teams in the nation. Both of them would probably win more games in the NFL than the Redskins will this year. No matter who wins, I believe they should play a rematch for the national title in January. If this game were being played in Baton Rouge I would give the edge to the Tigers. Since its being played in Tuscaloosa, and since every other pick I’ve made this week has favored the home team, I’m picking Alabama 24-20. Roll Tide.
Mississippi vs. Kentucky
The only thing I am sure of this week is the fact that after this game, one of these teams will have their first victory over an SEC team. Yes, these two programs are a combined 0-9 against conference competition, making this game possibly the worst SEC game to ever be played. But, no doubt, our buddy Slagle will be there up in the nose-bleed section , all painted up in Kentucky blue screaming his lungs out for each rare Wildcat first down. The over and under on Ky. First downs, I believe , is 10. Anyway, to the relief of many this game will eventually end and Slagle’s Wildcats will have their first SEC victory, 10-9.
UVA vs. Maryland
Every time I’m sure that Virginia is done they go and pull something like beating Miami. So I should be encouraged, I suppose. But they are, at the end of the day, the Cavaliers. How can a football team mascot be so cavalierly named? Anyway, should they beat Maryland? Yes. WILL they beat Maryland, get that illusive sixth victory, become bowl-eligible , and cement Mike London’s future? ( cue up Jeopardy theme music). The answer is What is “ no way”. Maryland 17-16.
UR vs. Old Dominion
How bad has the 2011 edition of my Spiders been? Well, in addition to all of the turnovers, inept coaching, blown leads and penalties, now comes the humiliation of getting beaten by an in- state rival who has only fielded a football team for 3 years. But this will be the bottom from which my boys will rise, like a phoenix out of the ashes, to once again compete for a national title…ODU 28-17.
Kansas State vs. Oklahoma State
Two teams with good records, one undefeated, the other with only one loss. The problem for K State is that the loss was last week to the OTHER team from Oklahoma, and it wasn’t just any loss but an ass-whippin on national television. I don’t think this game will be any different. Oklahoma State 58-17.
South Carolina vs. Arkansas
If it weren’t for the “other” big game, this match-up would get top billing. Arkansas has the great passing game but the third worst defense in the conference. South Carolina has the third best defense behind “you know who” but an indifferent offense that has gotten worse rather than better over the course of the season. Arkansas wins 35-30.
Alabama vs. LSU
Two best teams in the nation. Both of them would probably win more games in the NFL than the Redskins will this year. No matter who wins, I believe they should play a rematch for the national title in January. If this game were being played in Baton Rouge I would give the edge to the Tigers. Since its being played in Tuscaloosa, and since every other pick I’ve made this week has favored the home team, I’m picking Alabama 24-20. Roll Tide.
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