Celebrate Andrew Jackson!

An American victory!

Pollce "strike"

Police prefer the low-hanging fruit.  Examples:  You and me.  It's only rational for cops to arrest old ladies who won't give them any lip for speeding on an otherwise empty highway; it's a whole lot safer for them.  Trying to intervene in a crime being committed by a young strong black man is likely to get someone hurt.

 I will concede that the murder of two innocent patrolmen was a heinous crime.  I will further admit that the grand juries in both Ferguson and New York did their duty as specified by law, and that Al Sharpton et al are a disgrace to the good name of rabble-rousers who have brought a lot of grief to the body politic.

So the police in New York City are withholding their services.  They are not "on strike" because striking is illegal.  They are showing up for work but not doing anything.  They will be out there, neglecting their duties.  So, you will no longer have your car towed if you stay overtime in a parking spot--bliss!

There is a downside to this, though.  New York will become like San Francisco, a place where the homeless use public fountains as toilets, panhandle aggressively, and menace harmless pedestrians with their threatening demeanor.  The squeegee men will be back, offering their unwanted attentions to motorists.  This will return the quality of life to the pre-Giulani area, while the New York Times laments the ungovernablity of the city and demands smaller classroom and higher pay for teachers in order to attack the "root causes" of crime. Tourists will flee and businesses will struggle.

I think we need to rethink what we want from policing. Are the police a source of revenue, like bingo games in church meeting rooms?  Or are they employed to protect the public?

Happy New Year!

Chanukah song

Now that Chanukah is on its last gasp, can I mention that the Dreidel song is the most uninspired and boring song ever foisted on a religion.  No wonder there are so few of us, if that's the best we can do!

The dreidel game, on the other hand, is some kind of Jewish Candyland.  Not worthy of us, my brothers.

Lucky ape

This ape has more rights than you do.  For instance, it doesn't have to pay taxes. Or buy health insurance.

A cute little Xmas picture

Our new best friends

Not only are we kissing up to Iran, now we are making overtures to the Castro regime.  I can't believe I'm in the same country I was born in.

 Here in the US, if someone expresses mild doubt about the feasibility of gay marriage, his life is made miserable and we try to ruin his business.  However, in Cuba, gays are languishing in prisons camp, and apparently this is okay, because no enemies on the left.

In Iran, they murder young men for being gay, but that's okay because Muslims have a different culture and we can't judge them by our standards.

IRS funding cut

I wish I could believe that this cut in funding would affect the higher-ups in the IRS, especially those who tromp on the faces of ordinary people.  But my experience of local and state government leads me to be cynical.

When my husband worked for the New York State Education Department, there was a big austerity campaign--draconian cuts were going to be made.  People feared for their jobs. In the event, they cut out two positions--for part-time charwomen.

Everyone who worked there knew there were high level employees who never did a lick of work.  Their jobs were spared, and they continued to do nothing--with annual cost-of-living raises-- until they retired on comfortable pensions.  By the way, they contributed nothing toward funding their pensions.  These were 100 percent funded by the State.  Nice work if you can get it.

No wonder everyone wants a civil service job.

I'd like to put in a word of recommendation for the novels of Gerald Petievich which deal with the Secret Service, but only incidentally with lazy and free-loading employees.

My aunts and yours

Readers of my book, "Nothing Much," have written me extensively about their aunts.  It seems my readers  have as many aunts as I do, maybe more, and these aunts have loomed large in their lives. The aunts in question are devoted to bridge (or canasta, or mah jong)and would walk over burning coals in their bare feet rather than miss their weekly game(s). They also wore large, imposing hats and loved to get together to gossip or dish the dirt.  But did any of these ladies plan to bring a card table and four chairs to the cemetery, to their mother's grave, in fact, so they could keep the old lady company while playing a comfortable game of bridge?  I didn't think so.

Tales of a locksmith

I finally got a locksmith to come to my house--and what a locksmith!  One of nature's  noblemen, when he arrived he informed me that my outside tap needed to be shut down.  He then shut it down, coiled up the hose, and deposited it in the basement.  Then he shut off the inside faucet or whatever you call the doohinky that if it freezes your pipes would burst.  This was before he had done any locksmithing at all.

I have zero sales resistance, so he managed to sell me five (5) locksets  for all my exterior doors.   They cost a lot.

He went out to his truck to get his invoices and business cards.  Meanwhile, I cut my finger trying to cut some limes in half.  I managed to drip a fair number of drops of blood on the floor in the kitchen and bathroom before the locksmith put a BandAid on my finger.

Wait--there's more, as the television pitchmen  say.  I had heated some chicken morsels in the oven and managed to eat one while he was out in the truck and nearly choked to death.   This invaluable tradesman pounded me on the back until I had disgorged the remnants of chicken, thus saving my life.

Then he took some wipes and wiped up the droplets of blood from the floor.  Did a good job, too.  Now that's what I call locksmithing!

Plum job

When I was young, I would apply for any job that didn't require math, and quite a few that did.  Editor, garment model, newsreader, office manager, I figured out I could learn the required skills in two weeks.  (Except math.)  Besides, they sounded interesting.  Who wouldn't want a job as a fitting model in the garment industry?  Or the Napoleon of a large law office, striking fear into the hearts of all the underlings and lunching with  rich lawyers?  All the jobs sounded interesting to a 20 year old with no paarticular aim in life.  Amazingly, I had multiple interviews.

Being a shy person, it was agony for me at first to go through these interviews.  But I had so many of them that I became inured to the process, and my attitude was "bring it on!" although people didn't say that in those days.  I got quite adept at presenting myself and modestly mentioning my many accomplishments, which mostly consisted of having a BA in English literature at the time.

But at last I have seen an ad for the job of my dreams: wardrobe, makeup and costume construction  for a theatrical company.   I'd be perfect for the job. As it happens, I can sew.  I made all my daughters' dresses when they were little.  A short visit to Sephora or Ulta would bring me up to date on makeup.  Unfortunately, it's in San Francisco, and the rents there are too high.  I'll just have to remain satisfied with unassuming, humble Delaware.

A new game

Invented in Spain,this game could easily be adapted to other settings.  Like:  New Jersey. Maryland, Illinois, and California.  Only the faces would need to be changed.

My post about stealing soap from hotel rooms apparently struck a chord deep in the American soul.  It was my biggest hit!

Alma the It Girl

I am taking a course on Mahler, mostly his music, but two sessions are given to the notorious beauty Queen of Vienna.  It is impossible for us in the 21st century to understand her charisma.  Her photographs show her as a pretty girl, all right, although in her later years she looked more like Brunhilde.  I think Tom Lehrer said it best.

Remember, remember

Remember, remember!
    The fifth of November,
    The Gunpowder treason and plot;
    I know of no reason
    Why the Gunpowder treason
    Should ever be forgot!
    Guy Fawkes and his companions
    Did the scheme contrive,
    To blow the King and Parliament
    All up alive.

The first I  ever heard of Guy Fawkes Day was in the book, Mary Poppins, by P L Travers.  It sounded both scary and exciting.  I loved reading about children in another country with exotic habits, like eating scones. .  I hope it still is celebrated in the Mother Country.

How tough it is to be President!

A president's life is really tough--all those pesky voters!  According to the New York Times

The main impact of the midterm election in the modern era has been to weaken the president, the only government official (other than the powerless vice president) elected by the entire nation.

However, he does have the White House cook and rides around in Air Force One.

The trouble with in-laws

Bubbe, my grandmother, did not approve of the women her sons married; she did not consider them good  enough for her family. Clearly, nobody could be.   But her daughter's husband, my father, was her special nemesis.

He had a lot of charm, but it was lost on her.  They loathed each other from the getgo.  When he tried to mollify her, she was not playing, and their mutual hatred grew worse.

Mother always felt that you could please two people at once, even if they wanted completely opposed actions on her part.  This worked about as well as you would imagine it would, which is not at all.

After my grandfather died, it was generally agreed that someone would have to move in with bubbe.  The whole family felt that it should be my mother, her only daughter.  So the three of us moved in with her.

The result was a clash of wills, and since bubbe was twice as cunning as my father, she won the long game, thereby destroying our family and depriving her grandchildren of a father.  That was collateral damage, and didn't matter, as dad was obviously a weak character and we were better off without him.  Bubbe was as compassionate as Julius Caesar, who surrounded his enemies and starved them all.

The tradition continues: my nephew just got married, and his sisters hate his new wife and think she's not good enough for him.  Fortunately the young couple are moving out of the country, so perhaps their marriage has a chance.

Royalties!

I made 70 cents from my Amazon Kindle book.  I make more than that from my first book, published in 2002.

This is the front cover of "Nothing Much," a Kindle book.

We heard this tonight, but by Pyxis Quartet

Dynamite!

Me and Rasputin

About a year ago I fell right on my nose in the lobby of the Kimmel Center.  It hurt like hell, but. aside from two black eyes, I was essentially unharmed.  I looked grotesque, though.

Last Thursday, a dog knocked me down a (short) flight of stairs.  The sound of my head hitting the step was horrific.  Again, no damage, unless there are bruises  under my hair.

My father lived to be 99, and it took a dedicated team of doctors, at a renowned medical center, to kill him.

I am starting to feel like Rasputin; who I understand survived several attempts to kill him.  And that's all I know about Russian history, and probably all I ever will know.  

Nat Hentoff on Free Speech

First world problems

My broom has no home.  When I want to use it I take if from wherever it is standing, usually in the way, and after using it I leave it somewhere, usually in the way.  The somebody knocks it over.

Does anyone else have broom problems?  I never notice other people's brooms standing around waiting for someone to knock them over.  Other people have control of their brooms.

I have lost my last house key.  I never use them, because I come and go through the garage, but I think one should have a house key.  So I have to start thinking about a locksmith.

I let my husband's subscription to a magazine come to a close.  Then I ordered a new subscription  for myself.  Now I either have two subscriptions or none.  This requires action, but the thought of straightening it out makes me want to take a nap.

These are first world problems, right?  St Teresa said, in a quote that's too good to check, that life was a night spent in an uncomfortable inn.  Try to imagine a 16th century Spanish inn, where you had to share your bed with other travelers, some of whom probably smelled bad.  Now call a locksmith.

Happy Halloween

I hope it's not politically incorrect to call it that, instead of Autumn solstice or something;

Oil glut

My father and my brother the genius were so alike it scared me.  The first word ever applied to either one is "brilliant."  Both of them spent enormous amounts of effort on some cause.  My father spent four years trying to invent a sewing machine which would sew the toe of pantyhose invisibly.  He turned my brother's bedroom into a machine shop, surprising my brother when he came home from college  and had to sleep on a sofabed in the living room.  Dad had scores of patents on this machine, which proved difficult to design.  He became the world expert on pantyhose and was about to cash in worldwide when all the women of all  nations simultaneously decided they hated wearing pantyhose, discarded them, and started wearing trousers or going barelegged..  Even Anna Wintour.  And when you've lost Anna Wintour you've lost everyone who counts.

My brother the genius has a scheme for extracting energy from seawater.  Don't ask.  If he were rich he would devote all his time and resources to the project.  He also has lots of patents.  Needless to say, after the spectacular failure of wind and solar power nobody wants to listen.

When my mother was alive, he was convinced that all the natural gas in the world was going to be used up imminently, maybe within a year or two.  He actually ordered an oil burning furnace for her house.  When the installer came, the cleaning lady warned mother in time and was met with armed resistance and was forcefully ejected.  Thank heaven she caught him before the backhoe was applied to her rose garden.

It didn't take much acumen to consider him mistaken.  Just because someone is brilliant doesn't necessarily make him right.I felt in my gut that sooner or later,  there would be an oil glut and I was right.

Have a happy and healthy New Year

My future posts will all be about...

stealing soap from hotel rooms.  This is what brings people to my site.

It's all about the links!

Happy New Year

Bumper stickers

I strongly feel that any statement whatever is displayed on a bumper sticker or a t-shirt is rendered meaningless and banal by its context.  The medium is the message.

Think of the bumper stickers of the past.  My absolute favorite is "War is harmful to children and other living things,"  followed closely by "War is not the answer."  It depends on what the question is.  If the questions is, what is a three letter word for an armed conflict, war definitely IS the answer.

Also:  "No war for oil."  And "Obama," "Change," and "Hope.'

Being in Ohio

I just returned from Columbus, OH.  This is where I grew up.  I lived there for 16 years and couldn't wait to get out.  I'm sure Columbus is very nice, and I'm not comparing it to a soviet prison camp or anything.  I was adequately housed and fed and taken to the dentist and saw movies there.  I just wanted to go elsewhere.

So I went to visit the few relatives I have there who are still speaking to me.  Not that those who are not speaking to me are mad at me.  They are just indifferent to my existence, and vice versa.  No hard feelings on either side.  We can live without each other.   And do.

Looking for something to while away the hours when I wasn't visiting one cousin or another, I went to the stand in my motel which housed pamphlets about interesting sites to visit.  Mostly they were ads for outlet shopping centers.  A couple were for extremely boring historic sites, none of which were conveniently located.

I strongly felt the lack of all my aunts and uncles, my mother and grandmother.  I visited them in the cemetery, but couldn't get much out of them.  Communication was lacking.

Wow! People sure are interested in stealing soap

184 people have visited my post on the necessity or morality of stealing soap from hotel rooms!  A burning issue!

Is it okay to steal soap from hotel rooms?

Apparently, it is if you're British.

One of my relatives who travels extensively  has not bought soap in 20 years.  Apparently the complimentary soaps he takes from  hotel rooms fulfill the sanitary needs of his entire family.

Summer reading for young people

One of my young relatives was assigned this book for summer reading.

It tells the maudlin story of a young girl in the 1930's.  Not our happiest decade by a long shot, but this kid is doubly, no triply, unfortunate:  her mom died in childbirth, her dad is a drunk, and she accidentally pour kerosene on her hands, losing parts of her fingers--don't you hate when that happens?  Of course, this is particularly sad for her, as she is a talented pianist.  And to make matters worse, the book is written in blank verse, or free verse.  I can't tell the difference.  Here's a clue--it doesn't rhyme.

Young adult literature used to be clean and cheerful.  The kids went to the malt shop and attended sock hops at school.  They worried about being popular.  The trend in recent years is all the other way.  No subject is too gloomy to serve as the subject of a young adult book:  incest, rape, child abuse, gangs, poverty, criminality--all are the topics of young adult books these days.

I can't understand why kids have to read this drivel.  If you want to teach them about the seamy side of life, why not have them read "Crime and Punishment."?  There's all the poverty and crime you could wish for, and in addition it's a masterpiece.  Why is the Dust Bowl a fitting setting for teenagers rather than Raskolnikov's garret? 

Where's Teddy Roosevelt when you need him?

What the kidnapping and murder of James Foley means. Teddy's response to the kidnapping of an American was a bit different.

Retail therapy

Went shopping with a friend yesterday--she spent $72 and got six garments. That's a little more than 11 dollars per garment and she was happy and gratified. Clothing is so cheap nowadays. For instance, Macy's keeps sending me coupons worth $20 off a $50 purchase. With this coupon I get three or four nice things to wear from the 65 percent off rack. I already have closets filled with nice things to wear, but I can't hurt Macy's feelings, can I? I think they might be going out of business, anyway.

Why am I posting this? Who cares what I wear? Nobody, actually. But I have a point to make. Here are all these cheap clothes and next door are all these people buying large screen televisions at Best Buy. They are dressed like they purchased their clothes from a car wash, after the car wash had used them for a while. On their feet they wear cheap rubber flipflops. Ugh.

Why must everybody look so plebian? So proletarian? If they are broke, why are they buying enormous television sets? It's one of the mysteries of modern life. And why do they have such elaborately painted fingernails? Look at the people rioting in Ferguson, MO. Clearly they are desperately broke, but with nice fingernails. If you are going to riot in the streets and get your picture on the evening news, can't you even dress decently?

Stupid stuff, and plenty of it

I completely concur that "Don't do stupid stuff" is not a viable foreign policy. I hate these slogans that denigrate the intellect of the American public, don't you? Like, "It's the economy,stupid."--oh wait!

Seriously, I hate the lowdown argot of politicians nowadays. They seem to think they are in a pool hall, and not a nice one, either. Both parties are guilty. I personally don't like to be addressed or described as "folks," like some backwoodsman from Andrew Jackson's day. I don't care for the expression "shout out." I don't like to be told, "Read my lips." I'm sure you can think of others.

As for clothing,if I never see another President of the United States dressed in shorts, it will be too soon. Put on your big boy pants, guys! Big boy pants are those that descend to the ankle.

Museum fatigue

I suppose it was a bit of overkill to attempt to visit three museums in one day, but we did it. I loved the Berkshire Musseum in Pittsfield, which has improved immensely over the last three or four years. The second Museum was the Clark, in Willliamstown, which has undergone a rockemsockem renovation and is now a massive, unadorned, inhuman institution which would not have been out of place in Soviet downtown Moscow.

If you admire cinder blocks, this is the museum for you. In the public, non-gallery spaces, there is not a single painting or sculpture. A large shallow pool full of rocks adds an austere beauty, but fails to warm things up.

We did not have time to visit the permanent collection, but a collection of geometric shapes by David Smith was colorful and playful.

Paying kids to lose weight

Where can I sign up?

Classmates

I was recently informed by a website called classmates.com that someone I went to high school with had looked at my profile--how exciting that ought to be for me! Au contraire, I say, using one of the few bits of knowledge I learned at the damn place.

I was two years younger than my classmates in high school and thoroughly hated and feared all of them.

My parents were going through a rather nasty divorce at the time, and these kids, in typical "Lord of the Flies" manner sensed vulnerability in me and behaved accordingly.

Every day I attended school was a day of agony for me; when I was a senior I had nightmares in which my diploma was somehow denied and I had to stick around the horrible place for another year.

Academic standards were somewhat relaxed at the time, so despite the unpleasantness of the experience. I learned little and my parents would have made better use of my time if they had gotten me a job picking cotton or mining coal. I learned a bit of geometry and a smattering of French and that was all. Anything I learned while an inmate of the damn place I already knew or taught myself, except for the French and geometry.

What I did on my Summer vacation

The highlight of my visit to Lenox is always Tanglewood. Sometimes it's freezing, sometimes rainy, sometimes so sweaty you can see the perspiration on the performers. But when everything is right, Tanglewood is magic.

The soloist was Paul Lewis. To my eternal shame, I can't remember what he played--it was by Mozart, and Mozart numbered his compositions. I tried to look it up on the BSO website, but they are mute about past performances.

This was one of the most beautiful performances I have ever heard. I was transported. At Tanglewood, the performers are invisible except as tiny figures seen through glimpses through the audience. But for the last few years, they have very artfully videotaped the performances and display them on enormous screens to the seated audience. I don't know how those seated on the grass see anything--but who cares?

The weather was perfect, music rang out in the evening darkness, there was perhaps a little breeze. Magic!

It's about time somebody said this

Amazingly, it's someone from the Guardian.

I don't have to respect anyone's religion on principle any more than I have to respect people's politics if I find them bigoted. I will decide what I respect or not on the basis of whether that philosophy respects other people's rights, regardless of their colour or sex. In return, I don't want or need anyone to be bullied into respecting what I believe in. So long as they don't interfere with my right to believe in Him, they can call my God all the names under the sun. My faith is sufficiently strong that I won't run off to Headmaster Blair to tell the nasty mockers to stop it.

Someone should communicate these views to the cowardly president of Brandeis.

E-mail cut off

I have been away for a week, and Yahoo! has cut off my e-mail account for inactivity. Trying to get it back.

Highly unlikely

California might split into 6 states.

Yes, and I might win the Miss America competition in September. Both eventualities are remote.

Didn't we settle the question of how many states there are in 1865?

New painting

Heirs are hateful, and hated

Anyone who knows English history knows that kings of England hated their heirs and that the feeling was mutual. The heirs, of course, couldn't wait for the incumbent king to die so they could inherit his powers. It's a hell of a job sitting around waiting, with essentially nothing to do. Why should this country be any different?

Of course, Hillary and company loath Obama, especially since he more or less usurped the position she felt entitled to in 2108.

It's generally acknowledged that Whoopi Goldberg is racist

She's also stupid and untalented. Not too good-looking, either.

Her great success in life proves that the race is not always to the swift nor the battle to the strong. Wouldn't it be awful for mediocre (and worse) people like me if every successful American had succeeded because of his or her great talent, intelligence, or charm? What would that say about us?

He's fixed one poverty problem:

His own.

Editing

George Orwell searches for le mot juste.

H

Incorrect

Incorrect use of whomever in long, boring, incoherent, rambling sentence.

Bathroom humiliation

It's not what you think.

Deeply shallow

Obama thinks he was a humanities major, but he wasn't.

Political science, like history, is not, generally speaking, one of the humanities. Art history isn't either, but that's beside the point. Humanities include English, foreign languages, literature, etc. Muddled thinking like this is characteristic of Obama's utterances, which expose the shallowness of his ideas--glib but essentially meaningless. Obama appears to think that any field of study which is not STEM is "humanities"--or if it isn't it doesn't matter. It's close enough for government work.

The use of precise language is important to critical thinking. Critical thinking is essential to understanding what is being discussed. In other words, ideas have consequences, and muddled ideas have negative consequences. But what would Obama know about critical thinking?

My weekend car adventures

The reason I bought my first new car in a lifetime of used cars was to stop having adventures like this one. However, this tactic was not completely successful. It turns out I needed four (one was unofficial, so let's call it three)visits from AAA because the damn thing would start only intermittently. This is more frustrating than having a car that just plain won't start, because Hope keeps lifting its ugly head, as in politics. All this frustrating activity started over the weekend while the dealership was closed.

The last AAA guy came with a tow truck and dropped me and the car at the Nissan dealer. I went in and explained what was going on. The service manager looked at me, not with real courtesy and not with feigned courtesy but with total lack of interest and then suggested that maybe the battery in the key fob was not working properly and dumped me at the parts department.

The parts department guy replaced the battery in both of my key fobs. Cost: $6.00 each, for a total of $12.00.

And yes, that solved the problem, although I used up my annual three visits from AAA. On a rotten key fob.

Heartbreaking

Enemy bombs could not do more damage.

Urgent need

In one of P G Wodehouse's Mulliner stories, his nephew, a pale young curate (don't ask) who I believe is called Cyril, tries a tonic called Buck-U-Uppo, with astonishing results. Cyril faces down the bishop, rescues someone from a tree, and gets the girl he loves.

It turns out that Buck-U-Uppo is a nostrum for elephants, which makes them less reluctant to face tigers. Apparently many elephants, when faced with tigers, turn tail and run.

God bless P G Wodehouse, whose novels and stories made my adolescence bearable--but just barely--and brought joy to many readers, past and present.

But to return to the topic at hand, I am in urgent need of some Buck-U-Uppo, and I can't seem to get it through Amazon. Does anyone know of another source?

Bad news about blue jeans

What's all this carry-on about skinny jeans, designer jeans, Mom jeans, etc ad nauseum.

People with good-looking derrieres and nice long legs look good in jeans, whether they spend $200 or buy them at Ross Dress for Less for 12.98.

Everybody else: not so much.

A thought

In the confusion we stay with each other, happy to be together, speaking without uttering a single word. Walt Whitman

Experiment

I ran out of half and half for my coffee several months ago. I decided to replace it with light cream. Then I decided to replace it with heavy cream. I decided to eat all the eggs I wanted, and to use butter in cooking instead of something healthier. I also started using whole milk and whole milk yogurt. And lots of cheese. I cut back on refined carbs.

It was an experiment, using my body as a test tube. Are the experts right in their belief that a diet like this will kill you, or at least make you fat? Or are the new experts correct in asseerting that the culprit in our diet is unrefined carbs, and that fat is okay, if not good for you.

No-one else wanted to test my hypothesis, so I was a study consisting of one human being. A small sample, perhaps.

Today I had a routine appointment with my doctor. He reviewed my blood work with me, and told me the results were excellent, especially my cholesterol. Everything else was copacetic. I don't understand what half the stuff means: A1C, anyone? but whatever it was was good. However, I did not lose any weight on this diet. I didn't gain any either.

Good Will University

I'm getting all my reading material from Good Will. So far this year I've gotten "Reinventing Japan" by Ian Buruma, deTocqueville's "Democracy in America", "Benjamin Disraeli" by Adam Kirsch, "The Sea Wolf" by Jack London, a collection of Moliere's comedies, and a lot of books so forgettable I've already forgotten them. The usual sludge.

I love our library. It's hard to find a library that isn't better than nothing, and mine definitely is. But the downstairs near the entrance is given over to DVDs and children's books. The computer software which searches the holdings of all Delaware libraries is clumsy and hard to use. The adult books are upstairs in the back of the building, involving a bit of a hike. Also, nobody reads the shelves to see if any books are out of order, and plenty are.

But the Good Will is a win/win situation. I pay a dollar, sometimes two, per book, and when done pass them on to my daughter if she is interested. She ultimately sells them at her library's book sale.

The ones she doesn't want are donated to the AAUW annual book sale. I get an itemized receipt--usually a dollar per book-- to take off my income tax. Then somebody takes them home and reads them.

The method is perfect for a dabbler like me. I'm not necessarily looking for anything specific but am interested in anything not involving math or economics. I like history and there's a lot of history out there.

Conservatives are puzzled

I've been reading a lot of conservative comments about how inconsistent liberals are--poor dear but deluded conservatives. When you were a child, your dad promised to take you to the circus and reneged. It's not fair!

Fairness has nothing to do with it! Consistency has nothing to do with it, either. They are on the blue team, you are on the red team, and they can do exactly as they like. It's not about ideas; it's not about victims, or racism, or the War against Women. It's about winning! When you are on the blue team, it's okay to do or say anything at all, as long as you can gouge your enemies' eyes out. It's about winning, first, last and foremost.

Doesn't Harry Reid remind you of some creepy, dried-up character from Victorian fiction? Trollope, Dickens, George Eliot, I know I've met him before. Or maybe someone from Gogol?

My dad and his invention

In all this family stuff I notice I haven't said much about my dad. He was a man who it is not easy to ignore. He wouldn't let you.

He was not a screamer, like the Belarus side of my family. His family was from Hungary, but he was born in Youngstown, OH. He was the last of four children; he was premature and the doctors told his mother that he was not likely to live, but he did, for 99 years and a bit, until sent to his death by someone in the hospital who did not wash their hands.

Dad started his professional life as a newspaper man. When he married my mother, he qualified for the bar exam by working in her law office. He did not attend law school. Actually, he never exactly finished college at the University of Wisconsin either. I don't think he even got his high school diploma, having cut gym for four years at his high school in Peoria, IL. But he could talk his way into, or out of, almost anything, including jobs and marriages.

He was good with his hands and had an intuitive grasp of how things worked. When he opened the hood of a car, he understood what he was looking at and what needed to be done. He could fix small things around the house, like faucets and light switches, and built simple furniture, like bookcases.Dad noticed that the toe seam of women's stockings was crude and lumpy and showed in open toed shoes, so he set about inventing a sewing machine that would sew an invisible seam at the toe of a stocking. A whole room of his house was dedicated to the project. Actually, when his son left for college, his bedroom was converted to a workshop. He worked on it obsessively. He would drive 50 miles to visit me, stay for a few minutes, and then leave to work on his invention. This went on for years.

He finally figured it out and was about to succeed in patenting the device, when the world of fashion changed completely. Elegance and style disappeared, and women stopped wearing hosiery altogether. Except maybe socks.

Remind me to tell you about his career(s) in plant management, writing, and painting some time.

More car news

General Motors recalled more cars than it sold last year.

Res ipsa loquitor?

Running out of room to park new cars

These are not the cars you and I are buying and looking for a place to park:

Cars are being manufactured and left unsold all over the world.

Why don't they stop making them if no-one wants to (or can afford) to buy them? It defies logic.

Read the whole article.

No wonder the Nissan dealers keep calling me!

A beautiful book

Benjamin Disraeli by Adam Kirsch is a lovely book which I picked up at the Good Will, my favorite venue for quality books. It's the right size, fitting nicely into the hand, has beautiful acid-free paper, a nice typeface, esthetically pleasing text to margin ratio, and a nice dust jacket mad of high quality paper.

It's also fun to read, if you are interested in Disraeli, which perhaps not everyone is. The emphasis here is on how Judaism affected his life, mostly in indirect ways. I can see why it will not soon make the best seller list, but is worth reading if you are interested in English history. The man himself was brilliant, witty, and ambitious. But above all, he was persistent.

He stood for Parliament four times before succeeding in winning a seat--and and a good thing, too; he barely escaped being imprisoned for debt. (Members of Parliament cannot be imprisoned, except for heinous crimes, like treason.)

He subsequently married a rich widow. In those days, marrying for money was quite acceptable in polite society, and he made no bones about it. The marriage was a successful one, however; they had real affection for each other, and she was, in modern terms, a political junkie, who helped him in his career.

Attention Tim Blair!

Michelle Obama has got that head tilt thing going on. I like the little pout, don't you? Like she's asking for another serving of ice cream--not that she would! Do you think Boko Haram will honor her plea? Statecraft in action!

I'll take your word for it, it's a masterpiece

The best books that ever sat on a shelf unread.

Predictions of the future

Actually, who predicts the past? But let that go.

But aside from that, if the Republicans win the next presidency, (although I have faith they will pick the dullest, stupidest candidate) the homeless, who you never read about during the Obama administration, will start flooding the streets of American cities.

Among them will be decorated veterans, many with limbs missing, and small children. This great mass of homeless will take to the streets the day after inauguration, January 2017.

Remember, you read it here first.

The things I did not learn in school

I went to a very Progressive private school. We did not learn stupid stuff like the alphabet or multiplication tables. I had to teach myself these things later in life. It's tough to look things up in a dictionary if you don't know the alphabet. I also found the multiplication tables handy later in life.

However, we did learn a lot of songs (in Spanish) from the Spanish Civil War. Also a lot of propaganda from the Soviet Union. And folk songs by Pete Seeger. So my time there was not wasted.

Using small household items to fix things

My Keurig coffee maker was not functioning properly, so I looked at their website for a fix. The first step recommended on the website was "Find a paper clip and straighten it out." A paper clip! I seem to remember them from the 20th century, but haven't seen one in years.

The whole procedure outlined on their website reminded me of an incident on the Jackie Gleason show, where Trixie and Alice fixed a car with a bobby pin, to the consternation of their husbands.

I could not find a paper clip but a straight pin luckily did the trick. I poked holes in the thing until it came to its senses and started to dispense coffee.

This painting has been selected

by the Lancaster County Arts association for their upcoming show.

The wrong kind of black man

Liberals are as upset with Clarence Thomas as with George W Bush. The temerity of him, having opinions different from them--it's as upsetting as if a chess piece had made its own move.

A (liberal) young lady who is a relative of mine attended a lecture by Anita Hill. She thought Hill sounded credible.

So what? If all her accusations against Thomas were true, he was not guilty of any crime. He did not force her to go out with him. He did not demote or fire her. The worst he could be accused of is bad taste. As for Hill, testifying against Thomas was her best career move of a lifetime. How else in the world would she be commanding substantial fees for speaking to a group? Is she distinguished as a lawyer or a law professor, has she written notable scholarly articles? Not to my knowledge. Her main achievement in life appears to be as the albatross around the neck of Justice Thomas.

How long has it been since Justice Thomas's confirmation hearing? 20 years or more--look it up if you care to. I know I was much younger then, and so was he, and so was she. If anything ever falls into the category of old news, this is it. Heard anything of Bill Clinton's capers in the White House recently? Neither have I.

Thomas would not stand a chance of confirmation nowadays. The professional liberals are now willing to admit openly how much they loathe a black man whose ideas differ from theirs. They don't need the fig leaf of an Anita Hill's testimony; their rancor would be sufficient to prevent him from being confirmed.

Chris Christie's doom

It's so easy to destroy a politician; to make it impossible for anyone to take him seriously ever again. Dan Quayle did himself in when he spelled potato wrongly; he was forever branded as stupid. No brilliant idea or action could save him from the wrath of the evil potatoe. His political career went up in smoke.

Edmund Muskie is an example of the same thing from the other side of the aisle. He had tears in his eyes at some political event and was ever after regarded as a sniveling idiot. And don't forget Michael Dukakis in the tank. No amount of military weaponry could save him after that.

Now it's Chris Christie's turn. The news media tried to go after him for being fat, but the American people were not impressed; they could afford to lose a few pounds themselves and did not hold his excessive avoirdupois against him.  After all, their ancestors had elected William Howard Taft to the Presidency, and he had to have a new bathtub ordered especially for him.

But Christie has finally met his match. He submitted his e-mails and all his correspondence to a committee which found him guiltless, but a lot of good that did him. All his opponents have to do is say "George Washington Bridge" and no-one, including the Pope, can save his political career. The chinek hackers are after him, and will pound on that tea kettle forever.

The pleasure is all mine.

The young man at Whole Foods who helped me put my groceries in my car was certainly happier than the occasion warranted. As he waved away the tip I was trying to give him, he said: "It was lovely to share this moment with you!" Do you think he meant it, or does he just come from California?

Important police work

Police in Peoria, IL invaded a citizen's home and dragged said citizen off to jail for posting to a Twitter account parodying the Mayor of said town.

That's why the cops need those red light cameras and speed traps: ticketing people individually takes lots of time and personal effort. So does showing up at the scene of an auto accident, which they no longer do either.

I used to believe that the police used the time they saved to sleep in their patrol cars or play games on their computers. Now I know they were involved in worthwhile activities like harassing their employers, the citizens who pay them.

E-Z Money

I was an early adopter of E-Z Pass. I must have been using it for twenty years. I was sold on this service with the promise that I would save both time and money. We were promised discounts of 10 percent or more. The promise of time saved has worked out. The money aspect, not so much.

The discount is long gone. Theoretically, time is the only thing saved. To be fair,it is.

E-Z Pass takes money from your credit card, in advance. The last amount they took was $135. But when my credit card was stolen, I had to get a new number, and E Z Pass had no way of knowing that, so they simply stopped accepting my transponder, without explanation.

So I racked up $36 in toll payments due and $98 in "administrative fees." Nice little profit point there.

Another government racket. like red light cameras and speed traps; Take money from the customer's credit card in advance, money which the customer could theoretically invest, then charge him punitive fines without notifying him in advance. Government is in the three card monte business.

More from Longwood Gardens Conservatory

Longwood Gardens

In the Conservatory--not much is blooming outdoors.

It is Spring, and it's starting to show. The trees are different; they are not greening yet, but they are alive in a different way. Expectant! Flowers and shrubs that are yellow are showing their colors. And since this is poetry week, I thought this one was suitable:

Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

>Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed--and gazed--but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth

Post this on your bulletin board, Al Gore!

Of the innumerable authors whose performances are thus treasured up in magnificent obscurity [in a library], most are forgotten, because they never deserved to be remembered, and owed the honours which they once obtained, not to judgment or to genius, to labour or to art, but to the prejudice of faction, the strategems of intrigue, or the servility of adulation. Nothing is more common than to find men, whose works are now totally neglected, mentioned with praises by their contemporaries as the oracles of their age, and the legislators of science." Johnson: Rambler #106 (March 23, 1751)

Frustrated

I not only can't upload pictures to blogger, now I can't upload links. The thing is becoming more dysfunctional by the day.

If I were able to post something, which I am not, I would comment on the attire of generals. It struck me, on observing the general who gave a press statement on the latest shooting at Fort Hood was wearing combat fatigues. Now I am pretty sure that the military has dress uniforms for military officers. Some of them even include swords! What is the use of military officers if they don't get dressed up? Check out the photos of General McArthur wading ashore at the Phillipines. Did he look special or what? And when he accepted the surrender of Japan on a naval vessel, with the emperor wearing top hat and tails, did McArthur let the side down by wearing something more suitable for cleaning out the garage?

Yes, even General Petraeus wore fatigues when testifying before Congress. If that is not an occasion demanding formal wear, what is? Yet the general looked like he was wearing his jammies, albeit with a chest full of medals.

If I ever testify before Congress, which is highly unlikely, I will dress up in a fetching business suit or becoming dress, not in my paint-stained blue jeans. But that's just me.

Sorry I could not deliver the free book. It was difficult to get it up at the Kindle Store, but it is up now. Called "Nothing Much," it sells for $1.99. My daughter handled it all or it would not be up at all. Wow! I am recommending it to all my friends. Maybe. Now I have to complete my income tax.

Free book! Apply now!

To all my readers, a group for whom I do not have to rent a large hall: I will send you a preview copy of my new Kindle book, tentativeely called "Nothing Much," All you have to do is turn in a favorable review to Amazon. No, forget it, just comments and suggestions would be enough.

What about all those library books?

I should stay away from libraries. They are all right when staffed by people who report to me, when I run up a total of 50 overdue books everyone takes it as a good joke. And the children's librarian has a longer list than me. But the local libraries insist I play by their rules.

About that latest library book I lost: Damn it, I didn't even finish reading it!I have looked everywhere at least twice, and am beginning to entertain the idea that I dug a hole in the garden and buried it, Except, wait!--the ground has been too hard to dig in as well as covered with snow.

I keep trying to reduce my inventory of books, which are not only filling shelves but exploding in piles in every room. No one can believe the number of books I donate to the AAUW, the Good Will, and other charities. But they keep multiplying.

Hocking a chinek

The Democrats like to choose some meaningless phrase and run with it; right now it's racism of those who disapprove of Obama's actions. I remember when it was "No war for oil." Well, we had the war--where's the oil?

These mantras are meaningless; they are never expanded upon or explicated. This is what bubbe called "hocking a chinek," which I discovered after arduous research, means, beating on a teakettle--preferably an empty one, I suppose, or tea would get all over everything.

still reading deTocqoeville

I just got to the part where he foresees the weakness and eventual disappearance of the federal government. We all know how that one came out. I think I can stop reading him now.

Curses on Amazon Marketplace

I left my coat in California. It's in its third season, so I looked for a new one. I thought they would be dirt cheap, since the Winter is almost over. I got the dirt part right.

Being someone who doesn't know enough to come in out of the rain, I ignored the fact that this coat did not come from Amazon itself--thereby not being shipped free-- but from one of its associates. So they charged me $15 for delivery of a fifteen dollar coat. It was awful and did not fit.

I e-mailed them for permission to return the wretched thing, and they sent me directions, which included me paying postage(!)

So I bundled it up and took it to the post office, where I paid $12.72 to ship if back. So I paid 27.72 for a coat I don't even own. It's worth it though, I didn't want to have the thing in my face all the time, demonstrating to me what a fool I had been.

Anybody got a meaningful epigraph?

While you are puzzling your head re a title for my book. how about coming up with a classy epigaph--preferably from The Wasteland? Or something in Latin, like Justicia fiat or Dolce et decorum pro patria mori. Neither of these works, somehow.

Downton Abbey for Dummies

I am the only person I know who does not care for Downton Abbey. All my friends watch it faithfully. I liked the clothes in the early segments, but drifted away when World War one entered the picture. People fantasize about living in the early years of the twentieth century, thinking they would be members of the Upper Crust, bossing around a house full of servants and living a life of leisure and ease. Myself, I am pretty sure that if I had lived during those times I would have been below stairs, probably a tweeny who had to get up while it was still dark and light the fires and bring shaving water up six flights of stairs to the gentry. I do love the clothes, though. They look very elegant on the cast. The very few photographs I have of my ancestors in this garb are not flattering, though, possibly because you had to hold still for twenty minutes to have your picture taken. Oh yes, and they wore corsets.

Now reading de Tocqueville

It rankles me to see people, starting with Bill Clinton, quoting de Tocqueville, to wit:  "America is great, because America is good."  This saccharine statement would never come from a Frenchman, especially one as discerning and intelligent as Count Charles Alexis Henri Maurice Clerel de Tocqueville.  It sounds more like something a pitchman selling a baldness cure would say on paid television programming.

So I have taken it upon myself to read his masterwork, "Democracy in America," in full.  I have in my hand the Complete and Unabridged Volumes I and II.  Unfortunately I neglected to read it in college, not even the Cliff Notes which were undoubtedly consulted by Bill Clinton, because I was so busy thinking about boys and fixing my hair in the latest styles. By the way, this work is far harder and less fun than "Michelangelo and the Pope's ceiling." Just so you know.

I dug in to the first few chapters and found myself reviewing the material I learned in the compulsory civics class  I took in eighth grade in Columbus, Ohio.   Talk about deja vu!  To be fair, French children don't have to take the course, so de Tocqueville clued them in.  Now any French person interested in American municipal government can learn all about it in the original French.

I don't think Americans are any better than anyone else, or greater. We have a better system of government, and that is what deTocqueville is trying to explain, but it takes two volumes to do it.

By the way, someone got snarky with me because I mis-spelled exhilerating. Or, er, ex--oh, the hell with it! It never looks right no matter how you spell it, so I am going to leave it alone in the future.

More about Michelangelo and the Pope

Julie Z asked me how Ross King knew that Michelangelo used a scaffold.  I scoured the book and came up with an answer:  M wrote a poem about it, illustrated with a sketch of him painting the ceiling, reaching his arms above his head and bending backwards like Ginger Rogers dancing with Fred Astaire--okay, not leaning that much, but definitely leaning, and complaining about it.  As he seemed to complain about everything, especially his rotten family, a bunch of do-nothing brothers who just lounged around his father's house, enlarging their carbon footprints.

Now I am reading about Robert E Lee, a biography by Charles Bracelen Flood.  It's almost a hagiography.  Apparently Lee had some quality that led other men to like him, look up to him, and follow him, even unto death.  He was offered the command of Union forces, but turned it down, unwilling to fight against his native state, Virginia.

Apparently he had something that did not outlast his life.  Call it charisma.  I remember how people worshipped Roosevelt when I was a tot.  Nowadays he is receding into history, but Churchill said that meeting him was exhilarating, like your first taste of champagne. 

Update:  Apparently leaning back to paint had little or no ill effect on Michelangelo, who died at 89.

George Washington Bridge scandal--or is it?

The brouhaha about theGeorge Washington Bridge scandal raises some questions about the intelligence and efficacy of the plotters.  The lane closings were meant to wreak vengeance on the mayor and citizens of Fort Lee, but did that happen?  Most of the frustrated drivers who were inconvenienced at the bridge were simply traveling through Fort Lee.  Fort Lee was not their destination; they simply had to go through it  to get from Point A to Point B.

Most people who use the GWB come from elsewhere, not necessarily even elsewhere in New Jersey.  People commute from as far away as Upstate New York and Pennsylvania.  They take the bridge (or one of the tunnels) because Manhattan is  an island; they work on the island, but live elsewhere.  So in what way did these lane closings single out the residents of Fort Lee?  This was just a bunch of dumb politicians playing games with the public welfare because they could.  I can't imagine Christie having anything to do with it.   He seems to me an intelligent man and an effective politician.

It's terribly frustrating to commute via the bridge at all.  I once lived in Westchester County but worked in New Jersey.  It took me an hour and a half to get  20 miles to work.   By the time I arrived at my destination I was a gibbering idiot.  It took me an hour to calm down.  On evenings when there was a baseball game at Yankee Stadium, it took two and a half hours.  In fact, I sometimes headed up to the Tappan Zee Bridge just to avoid the inevitable traffic jams on the GWB.

What to do when it snows

My default position on occasions like this: Open a book; read the whole thing; put it down; open another. Rinse and repeat. If I followed my natural inclination I would sit and read all day. But that is a good way to get nuts. After a while I start to think I am a fictional character, and look behind me to see if I have cast a shadow.

So I exercise, take a walk, watch a movie, cook something, eat something, clean something, call someone, do laundry. Or blog, perhaps about something I am reading. I am now reading about Michelangelo and how he came to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. It is called "Michelangelo and the Pope's ceiling," by Ross King. I bought the book at the Good Will store, a place where you never know what books you will find.

He was first hired to design a tomb for the Pope, Julius II. Julius was not one of those namby pamby popes such as we have today, always going on about charity, greed, yada, yada, and other things he knows little or nothing about. Julius was a patron of the arts with a bad temper. A really bad temper, so bad that he used to beat up the people around him, like a schoolboy. He beat up his servants when they displeased him, and sometimes beat up anyone he felt like beating up. He also hired soldiers to beat up other nations. The Venetian Ambassador to the Vatican, on his deathbed, said that one of the reasons he didn't mind dying was that when dead he would not have to cope with Julius, patron of the arts as he might be.

Anyway, I hate to disappoint anyone who has visions of Michelangelo lying on his back while painting the aforementioned ceiling. He had a scaffold built and he and his subordinates stood on a platform to paint. It was tough enough as it was. The ceiling had to be painted while it was wet.

Breaking news from 1935

I found the following valentine to Obamacare above the fold in the Delaware newspaper:

Health woes just part of history

Popular federal programs were target for early criticism, too

Although multiple problems have snarled the rollout of President Barack Obama's signature health care law, it's hardly the first time a new, sprawling government program has been beset by early technical glitches, political hostility and gloom-and-doom denouncements. President Franklin D. Roosevelt faced heavy skepticism with his launch of Social Security in 1935-37. Turbulence also rocked subsequent key presidential initiatives, including Lyndon Johnson's rollout of Medicare and Medicaid in 1965, Richard Nixon's Supplemental Security Income program in 1974 and George W. Bush's Medicare prescription drugs program in 2006. Yet these programs today are enormously popular with recipients. ... After FDR kicked off Social Security in 1937, Washington's pre-computer age bureaucrats faced enormous hurdles enrolling people for the old-age benefits. Many had the same or similar names. Not all employers kept detailed records on employees and how much they were paid, further complicating the process.

The online version of the News Journal has scrubbed the story, undoubtedly feeling embarrassed, and they ought to be. If readers don't know what happened in 1935, this is not the place to learn it today. I found it on Newsbusters. It was written by some clapped-out AP hack called Tom Raum. And appeared above the fold! Words fail me.Even this failing, unreadable rag has exceeded my expectations.

Still more about Hannibal

Did you know Hannibal practiced diversity? No kidding. His troops included Carthaginians (Semites), Numidians (black, I think), Gauls, and various Italians he picked up during the course of his long rampage, and God knows what else. This multicultural gang enjoyed pillaging, raping and enslaving their enemies in perfect harmony, without a cross word. And they killed them in large numbers. Of course, their enemies would have done it to them if they could. So that makes it all right.

Anyway, that's the way business was conducted in the ancient world.

I just finished reading about the Battle of Cannae. What a bloodbath! And to think the Romans came back after that. But Hannibal certainly gave them something to think about.

My apologies to those of my readers to whom this is all old stuff.

More about Hannibal

By chance I acquired an atlas of the ancient world. I was particularly interested in tracing Hannibal's route to Rome. I didn't even know exactly where Carthage was. What a brilliant feat of logistics! I know, everyone else knew all about this and I am just catching up. But what a military genius he was! It was not all about the elephants, of whom there were 37. It was about finding enemies and allies along the route. And crossing rivers with the aforementioned elephants. And don't forget the Alps. And deceiving the enemy about his route. Don't tell me how it turns out; I haven't finished reading the book yet. I know he spent 17 years away from home.

I'm only reading this in short bits, because I am concurrently reading a book about the Pope and Leonardo da Vinci and the Sistine Chapel.

My dad's painting

 

Euphemism

Words are used in such a namby pamby way nowadays! I was looking up a nursing home today which provides memory care. They don't care for your memories, or restore them. They take care of those who have lost their wits and cannot care for themselves. What they do is laudable and worth doing, so why hide behind a euphemism?

Why are personnel departments human resources? Is working in a personnel office something to be ashamed of?

What about school resource officers, known in the real world as cops?

My father's paintings--and mine

My father took up painting in his latter years, and he was pretty good, too. He liked to paint urban scenes. But when he died in 1911, only a few of his paintings went to family members. For one reason, most of them were very large. So dozens were left, and his wife had no room for them in her new apartment. So she proposed to put them in her daughter's attic. It is amazing how many people think paintings, furniture, and musical instruments don't need special care, such as climate control. Someone donated a piano to our library, which gussied up the place no end, but was almost unplayable because the sounding board was warped. But I digress.

I took a few of dad's paintings, gave one or two to my kids, and hung two in my house, where looking at them gives me great pleasure. But the disposition of the rest made me think about my own paintings.

Not all my paintings are great successes, although I work hard on them. Some are boring or banal. Those I either put aside for further work or discard. Some I paint over. One or two I have managed to sell, or give to friends.But the vast majority, the ones that came out well, are mostly hanging on my walls. And my walls are full. Adding a room is not an option--I already have 8.

I often see paintings by unknowns, like me, in my favorite retail outlet, the Good Will. Some of them are very good and are worthy of more that the $20-50 that they fetch, mainly for the frames.

So, except for a treasured few, I would like to sell or give away my paintings.

Hannibal

I buy lots of books at the Good Will, my favorite hangout. In fact, I buy better books at the Good Will than I often get at the local public library, and I don't have to return them, either. Sometimes I find something really good, or something which I like to read, which is not necessarily the same thing at all.

Here are a couple of books I found recently at the Good Will: War of the Worlds, by H G Wells, which looks interesting at the very least, and a biography of Hannibal. I thought it might be interesting to know something about Hannibal, in case he comes up in conversation some time, which is very likely, don't you think? I don't know anything about Hannibal, but then I don't know anything about the people I read about in People Magazine, except those named Kardashian.

I would be ashamed to pass myself off as an educated person without knowing anything about Hannibal, who I understand came over the Alps with elephants to attack the Romans. Or maybe not. All my knowledge of Ancient Rome comes from novels by Stephen Saylor, Robert Harris, or John Maddox Roberts, except for a furtive look into Everyday Life in Ancient Rome while at the reference desk, and somehow I failed to obtain the facts about Hannibal from these sources.

So onward and upward with Hannibal, in case there is a quiz.

Memorial statue in Brandywine Park

 

Brandywine Park, Wilmington DE March 17, 2009

The last full measure of devotion

African American War Memorial, Brandywine Park