Who was the best teacher you ever had? What made that person's teaching so memorable for you?
Both when listening to interviews or reading memoirs, I'm regularly struck by the high praise notable authors, musicians, and filmmakers give to the influential teachers in their lives. I've also lost count of how many novels have moving passages about the power one attentive or committed teacher can exert on a mind.
"I'll not punish you for having a good imagination." Those are the words Francie Nolan's kind teacher tells her in "A Tree Grows In Brooklyn" (1943) after Francie admits she made up a wild story about a poor family to explain why she herself wants the pumpkin pie the teacher offered to her students. In fact, Francie is near starvation. Later in the same scene, the teacher helps Francie unravel another mystery.
"Truth and fancy were so mixed up in her mind ... that she didn't know which was which. But the Teacher made these two things clear to her. From that time on, she made up little stories about things she saw and felt and did." This anecdote has the clear ring of truth for me. My own high school English teacher Mrs. Cavico strongly encouraged me to continue writing poetry.
"A Tree Grows In Brooklyn" began literary life as author Betty Smith's memoir, later to be changed into a novel on the advice of an editor. So, here is a perfect example of the profound impact teachers can have. Betty Smith is encouraged to give her imagination free rein and later goes on to create a modern day classic, a coming-of-age story with a teacher in the wholly appropriate role of change agent.
Saturday, February 11, 2017
Friday, February 10, 2017
Ted, Et Al: Glad Not To Be Your Friend
When someone has enough power to make your life miserable, it's no trivial matter to be on that someone's "enemies list". J Edgar Hoover's animus for civil rights leaders like Martin Luther King Jr., Richard Nixon's indiscriminate paranoia about people he was convinced were out to get him - and most lethally - the varied enemies Hitler saw everywhere he looked, all resulted in many shattered or shortened lives for the unfortunate victims of those powerful, if woefully misguided, people.
But how bad would it be if someone like those three - or others of their ilk - detested you but was not able to affect your life in any negative fashion? Wouldn't you welcome being the enemy of someone that petty if they were powerless to hurt you? Earning the scorn of some public figures - provided they're impotent to damage my life - would be a badge of honor for me.
Aside to Ted Nugent: Based on your rabid endorsement of the lunatic birther movement, I'm guessing you're just the type to have an enemies list. Should you ever decide I'm worthy, please contact me via this blog. I'll publicly and proudly acknowledge your disdain.
But how bad would it be if someone like those three - or others of their ilk - detested you but was not able to affect your life in any negative fashion? Wouldn't you welcome being the enemy of someone that petty if they were powerless to hurt you? Earning the scorn of some public figures - provided they're impotent to damage my life - would be a badge of honor for me.
Aside to Ted Nugent: Based on your rabid endorsement of the lunatic birther movement, I'm guessing you're just the type to have an enemies list. Should you ever decide I'm worthy, please contact me via this blog. I'll publicly and proudly acknowledge your disdain.
Wednesday, February 8, 2017
Tired Vs. Timeless
Initially, I was looking forward to enjoying a CD compilation I borrowed from the library entitled "Guitar Classics From The 70's". Wow, what a bummer! After listening to it once, I realized not one of the ten songs any longer did a thing for me - not a single musical thrill in forty five minutes. If I never heard any of these tunes again, I'd be missing nothing. Was my complete disinterest due to how many times I'd heard these versions? That thought crossed my mind at first.
But it also occurred to me that it was equally plausible the songs themselves had simply outlived their shelf life. After all, many songs are wildly over-played but still continue to deliver the goods. To test my theory, I Googled the ten song titles from this CD to see how many times each song had been subsequently covered by others following the original version's heyday in the 70's. Let's just say the songs had their moment. I wish the songwriters and musicians well in their later pursuits.
There is a good reason why Disturb's new version of "The Sounds Of Silence" is getting significant airplay right now. It's no mystery that "I Only Have Eyes For You" was a hit in 1934, 1959, and 1975. Even money "Up On The Roof", "My Funny Valentine", and "Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most" will all appear on a new recording - sounding fresh as ever - very soon. What are your nominations for songs that - no matter how many times you've heard them - never get tired?
But it also occurred to me that it was equally plausible the songs themselves had simply outlived their shelf life. After all, many songs are wildly over-played but still continue to deliver the goods. To test my theory, I Googled the ten song titles from this CD to see how many times each song had been subsequently covered by others following the original version's heyday in the 70's. Let's just say the songs had their moment. I wish the songwriters and musicians well in their later pursuits.
There is a good reason why Disturb's new version of "The Sounds Of Silence" is getting significant airplay right now. It's no mystery that "I Only Have Eyes For You" was a hit in 1934, 1959, and 1975. Even money "Up On The Roof", "My Funny Valentine", and "Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most" will all appear on a new recording - sounding fresh as ever - very soon. What are your nominations for songs that - no matter how many times you've heard them - never get tired?
Tuesday, February 7, 2017
Begin Again
Put aside garden variety rudeness or bad manners. When was the last time you misbehaved so badly that recalling it makes you cringe?
Over the thirty nine years my wife and I have been together, I've avoided the boners that destroy many relationships. My misbehaviors have never led her to distrust me. But even-tempered, I'm not. I admire people who are not as easily triggered as me and I've worked hard to cool my hot-headedness. Still, spectacular failures are always nearby.
"Stop over-reacting to perceived slights and lose the need to be affirmed so much." That was a note I wrote to myself sometime during a semi-disastrous skiing trip to Killington in late 2015. I discovered it earlier today while looking for something in an old journal. Good self-coaching. Unfortunately, the memory of my misbehavior came right back as I read my words. Sorry sweetheart, again.
Over the thirty nine years my wife and I have been together, I've avoided the boners that destroy many relationships. My misbehaviors have never led her to distrust me. But even-tempered, I'm not. I admire people who are not as easily triggered as me and I've worked hard to cool my hot-headedness. Still, spectacular failures are always nearby.
"Stop over-reacting to perceived slights and lose the need to be affirmed so much." That was a note I wrote to myself sometime during a semi-disastrous skiing trip to Killington in late 2015. I discovered it earlier today while looking for something in an old journal. Good self-coaching. Unfortunately, the memory of my misbehavior came right back as I read my words. Sorry sweetheart, again.
Sunday, February 5, 2017
All Quiet On The Bell Curve
It's 7:59 p.m. EST on Sunday February 5, 2017 as I begin typing. No matter when you get around to reading this, I'd wager you could tell me what you were doing over the next few moments, even if you weren't watching the Super Bowl. Because if you weren't watching it, many people you know and love were; maybe you got some quiet time for yourself?
Aside from Christmas, there is no other day of the year I can reliably depend on getting almost no e-mail, phone calls, or interruptions. I'm no hermit but I must admit, the dependable Super Bowl respite from communication is welcome. Sunday - no snail mail to retrieve or garbage or recycling to take to the curb. No one schedules anything, no one drops by. (When was the last time - Super Bowl Sunday or otherwise - that somebody dropped by at your place?)
It's 8:10 p.m. What are you doing? I love Super Bowl Sunday.
Aside from Christmas, there is no other day of the year I can reliably depend on getting almost no e-mail, phone calls, or interruptions. I'm no hermit but I must admit, the dependable Super Bowl respite from communication is welcome. Sunday - no snail mail to retrieve or garbage or recycling to take to the curb. No one schedules anything, no one drops by. (When was the last time - Super Bowl Sunday or otherwise - that somebody dropped by at your place?)
It's 8:10 p.m. What are you doing? I love Super Bowl Sunday.
Saturday, February 4, 2017
Reasonably Sure
"When we are not sure, we are alive." - Graham Greene
What trait that annoys you in others do you perpetually struggle with yourself? Those folks who are certain all the time can really trigger me. And yet, I do battle every day with the same demon. What strategies do you use to keep certainty from closing your mind?
I seem to be better able to keep creeping certainty out of my writing than out of some other domains of my life. Consequently, the phrase "reasonably sure" - which I frequently use when writing - has slowly worked its way into my conversations, especially the more tense variety. When it works, i.e. I'm sounding less certain, the subsequent turn in conversations sometimes gratifies me. Other times, I feel wishy-washy for using a modifier. Add in an ego tug-of-war with one of those "I'm sure of it!" people and things don't go real well for this bell curve blogger.
But gratified, wishy-washy, or ego-tested - as Graham Greene asserts - I do feel more alive and alert to nuance whenever I make space for a little uncertainty. Still, this dilemma is likely to be around a while longer. Of that, I'm reasonably sure.
What trait that annoys you in others do you perpetually struggle with yourself? Those folks who are certain all the time can really trigger me. And yet, I do battle every day with the same demon. What strategies do you use to keep certainty from closing your mind?
I seem to be better able to keep creeping certainty out of my writing than out of some other domains of my life. Consequently, the phrase "reasonably sure" - which I frequently use when writing - has slowly worked its way into my conversations, especially the more tense variety. When it works, i.e. I'm sounding less certain, the subsequent turn in conversations sometimes gratifies me. Other times, I feel wishy-washy for using a modifier. Add in an ego tug-of-war with one of those "I'm sure of it!" people and things don't go real well for this bell curve blogger.
But gratified, wishy-washy, or ego-tested - as Graham Greene asserts - I do feel more alive and alert to nuance whenever I make space for a little uncertainty. Still, this dilemma is likely to be around a while longer. Of that, I'm reasonably sure.
Thursday, February 2, 2017
Over And Over (& Over)
Considering how many people outside of Punxsutawney ever pay attention, does it strike anyone else as odd that of all the movies ever made about holidays few have come close to being as good as "Groundhog Day?" What would be your nomination for a holiday film that is the equal of Harold Ramis' goofy 1993 masterpiece?
Although I'm not a big Bill Murray fan, "Groundhog Day" is on the short list of films I've watched more than once. Of the several priceless bits in the movie, my favorite is probably Sonny & Cher warbling "I Got You Babe" on the clock radio that awakens Murray's character as he endlessly repeats February 2nd - brilliant choice. What alternative song would you pick as a way to aurally depict a nightmare you can't escape? My top nomination would be one of those treacly ballads Michael Bolton screamed during his brief but painful popularity, closely followed by anything from the repertoire of I-get-paid-by-the-note Kenny G.
Musical snarkiness aside, which bit from this modern-day cinema classic plays over and over in your mind? And, if you were able to repeat a single day from your life which one would you choose?
Although I'm not a big Bill Murray fan, "Groundhog Day" is on the short list of films I've watched more than once. Of the several priceless bits in the movie, my favorite is probably Sonny & Cher warbling "I Got You Babe" on the clock radio that awakens Murray's character as he endlessly repeats February 2nd - brilliant choice. What alternative song would you pick as a way to aurally depict a nightmare you can't escape? My top nomination would be one of those treacly ballads Michael Bolton screamed during his brief but painful popularity, closely followed by anything from the repertoire of I-get-paid-by-the-note Kenny G.
Musical snarkiness aside, which bit from this modern-day cinema classic plays over and over in your mind? And, if you were able to repeat a single day from your life which one would you choose?
Wednesday, February 1, 2017
Simplicity
Simplicity can be revelatory.
Last weekend, my wife and I helped an old friend move her ninety seven year old mother into a new assisted living facility. As we placed her antique furniture in the bedroom, I was delighted by the way the wooden knobs fit back into her dresser. No tools or hardware were required. By hand, the knobs simply screwed back into the holes. You turned each knob until there was no more give. Why does any piece of furniture need a more complicated design?
The gentle rhythm of Kent Haruf's novel "Plainsong" (1999) is hard to resist. And the story he tells will resonate with readers who enjoy family novels. But Haruf's gift is the startling simplicity of his prose. Although not a big fan of audio novels, there were moments while reading this book when I wished I were listening to someone reading it to me, quietly. It was as though the author was telling his uncomplicated tale to me as we both sipped a simple cup of tea.
Where in your life does simplicity show itself to be revelatory?
Last weekend, my wife and I helped an old friend move her ninety seven year old mother into a new assisted living facility. As we placed her antique furniture in the bedroom, I was delighted by the way the wooden knobs fit back into her dresser. No tools or hardware were required. By hand, the knobs simply screwed back into the holes. You turned each knob until there was no more give. Why does any piece of furniture need a more complicated design?
The gentle rhythm of Kent Haruf's novel "Plainsong" (1999) is hard to resist. And the story he tells will resonate with readers who enjoy family novels. But Haruf's gift is the startling simplicity of his prose. Although not a big fan of audio novels, there were moments while reading this book when I wished I were listening to someone reading it to me, quietly. It was as though the author was telling his uncomplicated tale to me as we both sipped a simple cup of tea.
Where in your life does simplicity show itself to be revelatory?
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