Reading Response – Of Facebook, Advertising, and Lies

Almost every day, I read the following: “Thanks for your feedback. Over time, this information helps us deliver more relevant ads to you.” If you have been on Facebook any length of time, you have read it too. But I have come to the conclusion this statement is a lie.
I do not make this accusation lightly or in jest. I think Facebook is lying, telling an untruth, being deceitful, speaking falsely. I have become convinced that like the political groups who are paying to promote their ideas there, Facebook has no intention to fulfill their promise to “deliver more relevant ads” to me or anyone.
Okay, here’s what happens. Near any Facebook the ads, you will see a little X. You can click on the X to get rid of the ad. But before the ad goes away, you are given a little menu of choices for why you don’t want to see this again, now or ever. The choices are: Uninteresting, Misleading, Offensive, Repetitive, and Other. If you choose “Other,” then you get a small box to type in a specific reason for disliking the ad. After you are done, you are given the message above.
Now what am I to think when I tell Facebook that I find a certain ad offensive? I think most, given the statement above, would assume Facebook, in the interest of not pissing off potential customers, would keep that ad from ever showing up on that person’s page. What would you expect to happen if many similar items, perhaps generated by the same group of people, are “reported” to Facebook? Would you not expect Facebook, who can learn about the preferences of his members, to figure out, “Hey this guy isn’t going to pay attention to stuff from this group. Let’s give him something else”?
But they don’t. I see the same ads over and over though Facebook keeps telling me that “over time” they will bring “relevant” promotions to my page. THE SAME ADVERTISEMENTS SHOW UP NEARLY EVERY DAY. Does “over time” mean to these guys, “some day in the future you will be so darn old you will have forgotten what you do and do not like”?
I understand why there are advertisements, and I don’t have a problem with them doing it. Facebook is the biggest social networking site in the world, and I believe they have a right to earn revenue selling promotion space. I believe the people who purchase that space, even those I don’t like or agree with (even those who I know are using that space to mislead) have a right to try to sell their ideas in this forum.
However, I know the technology exists for them to “learn” from my preferences, and I know that Facebook is using that technology. Otherwise, why would I be getting little messages for jazz groups and books on spiritual matters? I didn’t fill out a survey that said, “Please tell me more about this such and such topics.” Facebook figured it out based on what I post, the groups I join, and other activities I participate in.
I am not well versed in the subtleties of technology. But I do know Facebook can learn what I don’t like as easily as it can learn what I enjoy. They can figure out what bothers me, and yet they choose to cram the same political advertisements onto nearly every page I access, despite the fact that I almost never write about politics (except the occasional comment to someone’s post). How can they, after MONTHS AND MONTHS, not see that I mean it when I say that certain ads are offensive to me?
How can they? Because like most politicians, they have no interest in the truth. They know most people will ignore what they dislike or finally get so curious they find themselves clicking on the ad no matter what they think. It is a law of advertising, if you cannot find target consumers, make them by sheer weight of repetition. After all, anyone who doesn’t like it, can just “change the channel,” right?

Music Notes – Soul of Things

I'm guessing that Tomasz Stanko is not well known in America. I'm sure few of my friends have heard of him. But he is a giant in European jazz circles. On Soul of Things, the massively blessed trumpeter is 60, playing a wonderful suite, sounding as youthful as when Miles Davis recorded Kind Of Blue
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Speaking of which, if you enjoy the mellower side of Miles without the irritation of smooth jazz gimmicks, then this is the disc for you. Each section is a gorgeous accompaniment to whatever you are doing, yet is also worthy of closer listening (something I don't have the vocabulary for). This comes under Stanko's name, but it is also a real quartet recording, each musician getting room to make the whole more beautiful. But it is probably Stanko's understanding of space, where notes go and where they don't, that makes this a gem. 

I think this is the rare album that can be enjoyed by serious jazz fans and non-fans alike. I know I have come back to it often since I first heard it.

Music Notes -- Changes

The three songs on this disc can be found on a really fine boxed set called Setting Standards: New York Sessions. The other two discs contain Jarrett's trio in their first forays interpreting standards from the Great American Songbook. This part, however, is all improvisation. Jarrett had already made quite a name for himself doing this as a solo act, and a couple listens through this disc will show why these three almost seemed destined to play together for going on 30 years.

In fact, the music is so good, and the playing so accomplished, one might get the impression that these tracks were composed and arranged ahead of time and that the musicians had been working together a long time before recording.

Starting slow, and building to a gorgeous crescendo, “Flying, Part 1” sails through the speakers.  Each section of the tune glides easily from one moment to the next. Jarrett’s piano, of course, is the highlight, but his band mates (Gary Peacock on bass and Jack DeJohnette on drums) aren’t just following him around on the tune. They are easily part of the making of the music.

“Flying, Part 2” sounds like a cross between an old fashioned jam session and a rousing medley of well worn classics. I keep thinking that Jarrett, with his humming and stomping, is having a church service in his head. Because there seem to be more solos, this song doesn’t cohere as smoothly as the first part, but the result is pretty satisfying nonetheless.

The disc closes with the meditative “Prism.” Even when the tempo picks up and DeJohnette and Peacock’s presence in the tune becomes more pronounced, both musicians and listeners seem transfixed. I didn’t want it to end.

Like a good book, Changes is a disc that is likely to seem too short and almost demand repeated hearings. It seems new and more beautiful with each play.

Bookmarks – Stranger in Paradise

I had read a couple other books in the late Robert B. Parker’s Jesse Stone series, but I clearly have missed a few things, such as Stone’s little affair with Sunny Randall (a character from another series). Some other events mentioned in Stranger in Paradise were news to me. In his Spenser stories, Parker does a pretty good job of giving the reader just enough information so one can keep up, but not so much as to drag down the narrative. I didn’t feel lost here, but since the character is what I am interested in, these little jolts did make me feel as if I’d been out of town too long. Perhaps I have.

Stranger in Paradise includes a character from one of the books I had read before, a killer named Crow. He has returned to Paradise to retrieve the teenage daughter of a Florida gangster. But when Crow refuses to kill the mother (he has a particular fondness for women that is never explained), a series of events unfolds that includes a gang of thugs the teen girl has taken up with, and a self-righteous woman bent on keeping a group of underprivileged children from coming into Paradise for an education.

There is Parker’s trademark dialogue, right out of the Raymond Chandler handbook, and Stone’s goofy and complicated relationship with Jenn (which is much like the relationship between Spenser and Susan). The story is what Parker fans have come to expect. Nothing seems new here, but it nevertheless enjoyable. Stranger in Paradise is a well-paced escape.

We do have an unbelievable climax that involves a shootout with two groups of bad guys providing Stone and Crow what they want (mostly). This and the rather neatly tied ending may seem far-fetched, but if you get that far in the story, you probably won’t mind.

NOTE: Much to my shame for not knowing earlier, I found out as I was finishing this review that Mr. Parker died of a heart attack in January. A nice obituary which also discusses similarities between Parker and his best known creation can be found here.

Reading Response – Of Bullies and School Administrators

Have been following the story of several teenagers who have been charged in connection with the suicide of Phoebe Prince since running across this New York Times article. I find it troubling that any children in a country that presumes to value tolerance would be able to destroy their consciences enough to allow themselves to do the sort of things that were clearly done to this young girl. I am almost as appalled that there are parents who justify the cruelty of their children and school teachers and administrators who pick and choose who they are going to protect.
Laws and programs about bullying can give schools the opportunity to be democratic when they have never really been. In the past, teachers and principals turned a blind eye when a kid was being picked on if that young person was not popular, seemed “weird,” or didn’t fit in. They didn’t do much about verbal harassment, unless the one talking used profanity. With an emphasis now on paying attention to different forms of harassment and better training of teachers, the opportunity is there to stop abuse and give just punishments to offenders.
But what really happens is often the same old thing, only now it is clothed with programs and posters and sweet sounding reassurances that every child is safe, and any perpetrator will be severely dealt with, no matter how well connected. What really happens is that if your child is the sort of person that seems an easy target  for bullies, “no tolerance” means the bullied kid will get punished if they do anything wrong, even if defending him or herself.
I have seen it with my own kids. One of my children spent much of a year being tortured with pushing, hitting, name calling and threats by a little boy while their teacher only seemed to notice my daughter complaining. I had to threaten the school with the unwanted publicity of a lawsuit and the child’s family with an assault charge to get the teacher and principal to even separate the two. They continued to maintain the boy was an innocent victim. Strange that a couple years later, at her middle school, the same boy tried to bully my daughter  one time and the teacher then was able to take action right away that has thus far halted the problem.
My son was once picked on every single day by several people, and yet when I went to pick him up from school, I had to go through a gauntlet of teachers who had to tell me about how he wouldn’t do any work and how he wouldn’t try to get along with his classmates. HELLO? Did you get the idea that a kid who withdraws like that and blows up at people calling him names isn’t just “sensitive”? It got so bad, we had to remove him from school. He’s back now, but was sent home from a class trip when he was picked on by one of his former tormentors (oddly, no chaperones were available) and lashed out with “bad language.” No punishment for the kid who used foul language to hurt my kid. No reprimand for the chaperones who couldn’t be bothered to stay in the cabin with the boys. No investigation into the incident. Just me having to listen to a teacher tell me that my son was ruining the trip for everyone else.
Now I look at the case of Phoebe Prince and I am again flabbergasted that school administrators claim they knew nothing about what was happening to her. I just don’t buy it. I know that it is difficult for teachers to see everything. But how can dozens of students witness incidents in a hallway or assembly and not one teacher or one administrator see it? This is part of what they are supposed to be looking for. I have a hard time believing that one student couldn’t say something in confidence to an adult. Doing so might well have saved this girl’s life. Someone knew something and could have done something. Most of the members of this community should be hanging their heads in shame.
A parent of another girl who had been a target by at least one of those charged stated that his daughter endured bullying for THREE YEARS and could get nothing done. Eventually an apology came after the fact. What kind of school are they running here? It seems to be one like so many in America, one that sends the message “Our job is not to protect your child. Our job is to make sure they come often enough to be drilled through standardized testing so we can get our funding. Those who are mean and cruel are rewarded. The unique and the different deserve the pain they get.”
I fear that after all the media frenzy about this case dies down, many will forget that there are still bullies and abusers in every school and that they come in many different packages with many different weapons. I am afraid schools will start new “anti-bullying” programs that will do no more to educate and empower students, teachers, and administrators than before, but only dress the same ignored messages in nice, comfortable language. I worry that we will continue to take the playground bully and the classroom abuser and raise him or her up to be the next Bernie Madoff or Ted Bundy.
But, you bullies out there, I am not afraid of you. I have some hope. My kids have some good people in their lives: family, friends, teachers, principals, coaches, scout leaders, ministers and others whose love can help to overcome the evil of willful ignorance.

Reading Response – Of Parents in Books

This evening read an interesting article from the New York Times by Julie Just called, “The Parent Problem in Young Adult Lit.” Reminded me of something I wrote years ago about the dearth of positive parent figures, particularly fathers, in television and movies. Just’s article seems to focus mostly on mothers, and I found her look interesting. She doesn’t appear to have as big a problem as I do with so many books having parents who are crazy, absent, abusive, or self-absorbed. But she doesn’t applaud this either. I do wish she’d mentioned the excellent novels by Madeleine L’Engle, where the parents are flawed but still in authority (without having to be overbearing or dictatorial) and still worthy of respect.
There are a great many aspects of life that we, as a society, seem impelled to take an either/or approach to, and how to draw parental figures is one of them. Why we cannot, in all forms of art, have more mothers and fathers who are real, and who do the best they can despite the whining and selfishness of so many television fed teens, is beyond the scope of my understanding.
Don’t tell me it isn’t possible, that it won’t sell if the parents are too real and if they are right most of the time. I’ve seen it work over and over.

Reading Response – Of Team Building

I honestly could not, at first, believe what I was reading. I’d been following a story about football players at Texas A&M Commerce getting busted for possession of marijuana (and other things), when the story took an odd twist. Many of the members of the football team were implicated in stealing copies of school paper, The East Texan, in which the arrest was reported. Then head football coach Guy Morriss (thank Jesus, no relation!) called the thefts “The best team building exercise we have ever done.”
I shook my head. I read again. It was still there. I should have known. This mindset has always been there. I guess I just didn’t expect anyone to openly defend it.
College sports, and football in particular, is filled with people who have decided they live by a different set of rules, rules that make them lords of the universe and anyone who gets in their way or questions them be damned.
Team building? I know that Coach Morriss has since apologized for his statement. But I cannot help be think that he still thinks he and his players are above the law. Essentially a bunch of spoiled athletes did not like that teammates were not only caught in the act of a couple of felonies, but that a newspaper had the audacity to report it. So to “build” the team, they commit another crime (one for which the university has yet to take appropriate action). Sounds like the reasoning of a Mafioso.
Coach Morriss, if that is what you think is good for your team and the school you represent, then you can fucking have it!
I love sports, absolutely love it. But crap like this has all but ruined the joy once took I take in watching and reading about my favorite teams. This once included A&M Commerce.
This is one more example that in our culture athletes are a privileged class of people. We barely speak about the supposed “student athlete” who has no interest in education and who openly flaunts his disrespect of anyone in authority (except their coaches, of course), particularly their instructors. Most in our culture, in fact, regard teachers more often as obstacles to success, and many college athletes ramp up that attitude as if the idea itself is on steroids.
A member of the school’s Student Government Association even called the matter “over” after Morriss apologized in a statement. (For those of you not familiar with some of these fancy terms, “statement” refers to a weak-assed apology, probably not written by the coach himself, that is supposed to be a public witness of the contrite feelings he doesn’t really have about the actions that have embarrassed his employer, who has no intention of taking the kind of action against his employee that would be taken against the rest of us if we found ourselves in the same position.) So now even elected voices of the student body have helped us rest easy by sweeping more bullshit under the rug.
The president of the university has called the Morriss’ statement about “team building” “a misguided attempt at humor.” Really? That’s what you call it? The president seems to have forgotten that the coach told police he knew nothing about the thefts, and said about The East Texan “I don’t read that crap.”
I just want to get a few things straight: Lying to the police is okay. Theft is “team building.” People who write things you don’t like to hear are publishers of “crap.”  And President Dan Jones is okay with this. Morriss’ has pretended to be sorry, and he and his players have been “disciplined.” I’ll believe that when I see it.
In the meantime, I am not going to be surprised when another spoiled prince of an athlete has his way with us, or when some jerk of a coach or athletic director defends his actions.

Grow up, Huntington

Watched the first two installments of Jaime Oliver’s Food Revolution tonight and I was struck by one serious problem. The adults here, most of them anyway, were not willing to even try. The bitchy little frown factory in the kitchen made me want to scream. She actually enjoyed when things went wrong, and actually believed that everything is just fine. That arse on the radio needs an attitude adjustment.  Hope his bravado and fake John Wayne will be strong enough to carry his stupid ass to the cemetery when it is time for him or someone he loves to die.
I am living proof of what diabetes can do, and that is just one of the problems Oliver tries to warn this town about. I am sore all the time. I do not have the energy I need, and I get sick much easier. I cannot enjoy some of the simple physical tasks, like sitting on the couch, an arm around one of my kids, and often doing my job, something I love,  is very difficult because of the pain. But while genetics plays a small part of my troubles, I did most of this to myself. Though I’m trying to eat better and do the things I need to do to get rid of the weight, I still live with the fear that I might still have a stroke or a heart attack.
This is a reality show, and I generally don’t like reality shows. I won’t get into why here. But I will be watching this a least a little longer, hoping that something changes. Right now, I see a lot of adults who act more childish than their kids.
Huntington, if you really think everything is okay, then be brave enough to look your kids in the eyes and tell them they don’t deserve to grow up with parents, because Mom and Dad thought everything was just fine. Sit them down and explain, thoroughly, why the habits you are teaching them about eating, though they may shave decades from their lives, are really you just being a “good parent.” While you are at it,  write a letter to the fast food companies and their marketing and advertising geniuses. Thank them for being so good at their jobs, for making money so much more important than the health of their consumers, that even after a demonstration on how chicken nuggets are made, children still want them more than chicken prepared with health (AND TASTE) in mind.
This isn’t about snooty restaurants or eating “nuthin’ but lettuce all the time.” This is about fixing what so many of you think isn’t wrong. Often we parents have a child who isn’t willing to try something new, complaining that they don’t like it. And we say, “How do you know you don’t like it if you haven’t tried it?” Well the reactions of many of those children and adults tell us that they are ingrained with the idea that processed food is the only food and that mix with water and microwaving is the only way to prepare food. Well try something new for a change.
You know, one way we know children are growing up is that they don’t use such goofy logic as saying they hate what they haven’t given a fair chance to. So grow up, Huntington.

Tulips

I took these pictures because my wife likes tulips, and these looked particularly bright today. Flowers, for me, are nice, but just decoration. Usually. Maybe the nice weather made me unusually romantic.

This first photo was taken in the morning on my way to the division office. I walk by here often, but was suddenly struck by the vibrancy of the colors. I don’t know why I never paid attention before.

The second picture was taken later in the day, early afternoon. Sorry about the finger. I don’t know if it shows, but the flowers seemed open and leaning to the sun which was at my back. It was like children smiling toward a priest offering communion.

I wish I could write a poem about the two pictures, but it would just come out cliché and silly. I also wish I could have sat down at the table a few feet away and just enjoyed the sun as I imagined these did or as the students who were already there chatting affably probably were. But I won’t lament the call to work. I saw something beautiful and new today. That’s plenty of joy.

Music Notes -- Orchestrion

It doesn’t matter that Pat Metheny, on his new solo project, has redefined “solo,” or that he has created (with the help of some very talent craftsmen and inventors) something unique in the way of creating music, or if he is making yet another protest against established methods of recording and performing. None of that matters if the music itself isn’t good. Thankfully, it is very good.

Orchestrion contains five terrific songs. In fact, my main beef with this project is that it is too short at 51 or so minutes. I wanted more. Much more.

The title track opens the set with Metheny’s trademark runs and textures like some kind of furious painter, here accompanied by one of the percussion instruments, there by a piano, all controlled at the guitar. It reminded me in some places of the most moving sections of The Way Up. But this is one guy, not a whole band. And this song stands well on its own.

“Entry Point” is the second tune, one reminiscent of Metheny’s softer, more introspective pieces like “The Bat.” With the exception of some piano tinkling here and there, it is very much a trio piece, with the bass guitar and percussion doing more than filling in the space around the melody and solos.

The middle song on Orchestrion is “Expansion.” Here I am reminded of some of the group projects recorded during the 90s. Again the texture built with the other instruments makes Metheny’s lightening solos shine even brighter. Like the other songs on this album, I was amazed by the composition around which the improvisations fly. The song ran to a fantastic climax as well as my favorite songs from Speaking Of Now, “Proof” and “The Gathering Sky.”

“Soul Search” is an interesting suite of a tune. The first four minutes are a gorgeous ballad, but then we are treated some bluesy chords and runs that are likely to have feet tapping. At the six and a half minute mark, the song returns to its theme, resolving nicely like the last sip of your favorite drink.

The project closes with the beautiful and stirring “Spirit of the Air.” This song is my favorite. (That is, until I start the disc over and hear the other four). I’m not a fan of the cymbal play about four minutes in, but the solo there is sweet and lively, and when Metheny returns to the head of the song I find myself grinning so wide each time I hear it, my face hurts. But that’s mighty fine pain!

At first, I was a little put off that each song on Orchestrion reminded me of other tunes in Metheny’s extensive canon. But these are not knock off pieces now getting space. Metheny is a consummate bandleader, and though this is a solo album, he is still leading a real band, not just playing an interesting array of instruments. One might even argue that for his first foray into this territory, he is wise to avoid too much experimentation in sound. One might also argue that the new instruments are enough experimentation to satisfy most adventurous listeners. And as a composer, Pat Metheny ranks among the best of our time. I can easily see (or hear) these tracks being covered by any number of artists, in small groups, solo, or big bands. The more I listen to Orchestrion, the more I remember that the music is the thing. Here, it is a rather wondrous thing.

Bookmarks -- Learning to Kill

I found this book in a sale at a library and what a bargain I got! Learning to Kill is a collection of short stories by Ed McBain written during a kind of apprenticeship he had as he worked for the Scott Meredith Literary Agency in the 1950s. The stories are not arranged in chronological order, but grouped into categories, like "Private Eyes," "Cops and Robbers," and "Innocent Bystanders" so as to show the different kinds of crime tales he wrote during this pivotal time in his career.

For a crime buff like me, these stories are very enjoyable. I have come to enjoy the story that does not rely on technology to pull together the plot,and as these were composed during the time McBain was literarlly learning how to piece together and shape good, sellable fiction, these tales are gold. At first, I was put off that they did were not arranged chronologically, but now I think this strategy works, since each group represents a different kind of crime sub-genre. There is even a group called "Gangs," which seems appropriate considering this is also the man who wrote The Blackboard Jungle (published under the name Evan Hunter).

Learning to Kill is certainly going to appeal to those who prefer McBain's 87th Precinct novels. But on their own, the stories here are well worth reading and I suspect many will stand up over time. What I found most valuable besides the stories are the insights the writer provides into the their composition and into the publishing world at that time. Most of the stories in the collection were originally published in Manhunt, and they provide a nice idea of what was read in one of best markets for crime fiction at the time. They also provide good clues as to why McBain's work would continue to sell.

Food Notes -- Daddy O's

Waiting on someone in Farmersville a few days ago, my wife and I decided to find a place to get quick bite and a drink, and found ourselves in a little establishment called Daddy-O's.

The place is decorated in pictures and items from the 50's, highlighted by a number of pictures and cutouts of Elvis. There are 45s on the walls and photos from car magazines under the clear counter top of the soda shop bar where my wife and I sat down. At my chair were bright pictures of the Edsel with captions discussing its unique history. In front of us, in addition to some notes about specials, was a television tuned to Fox News (the one down side for me).

A cheerful gal set menus in front of us and told us that the special for the day was Chicken Fried Steak, a dish neither of us have to be offered twice. My wife decided on her favorite sides, mashed potatoes and fried okra. I went for the french fries and decided to try something new (at least to me): fried cabbage.

Well, I've never recommended a restaurant based on a side dish, but if you are anywhere near Farmersville, you have to try this fried cabbage. Nothing I ate was on my diet, and all of it was worth treating myself, but the cabbage was magnificent. I was told it is boiled, and then fried on the grill with onions.Oh wow!

It is hard to mess up a chicken fried steak (though public schools do try), but the one I ate was very, very good. Not too much breading, plenty of actual meat, and gravy that will make health nuts cry. The fries were not great, but not bad, and mustard helped them. I did taste my wife's okra and mashed potatoes. Fantastic.

We had come a little before the regular lunch time would begin, so the only other customers were a couple sitting in a booth behind us. I do hope this place gets a good crowd. I was messed up happy when I had finished eating. Our waitress was really nice and just the right amount of friendly. Even the cook made an appearance and took our compliments graciously.

A place like Daddy-O's probably is frequented by locals and to outsiders it may seem like a dive. But it is worth the drive, especially if you like themed restaurants and southern cooking. Get there soon, and don't take your doctor.

Publication Notes -- January 2010

The poem "Loafing" has been accepted by Poetry Quarterly. Proofs have come and gone and the issue should be at press soon.

My story "A Little Accident" is one of the featured stories this week at Sniplits. If you like to listen to your fiction, this is a good place.

Have tried to be a little more regular concerning submissions, and have been rewarded with the usual rejections. Hope the new semester doesn't get me too off track.

Have published two more books at Smashwords. Quick is a collection of short stories, all under 2,000 words in length. Most of these were written some time ago, but they are pieces I felt deserved more of an audience. They Live With You is a book of personal essays/memoirs wrapped around the theme of family.

Bookmarks -- Water for Elephants

Water for Elephants is a fascinating and exciting novel by Sara Gruen about a 93 (maybe) year old man coming to terms with his age, his forgetful family, and the adventure of a lifetime.

The novel moves back and forth in time between the protagonist's unhappy life in an assisted living facility and his adventure as a circus veterinarian. In the former, he waits none too patiently for his son to pick him up for a trip to the circus as he deals with the various indignities of being where only one person seems to really care about him and where his body and mind are not always in sync. In the latter, we see him drop out of school with graduation only an exam away, join a circus at the height of the Depression, and fall in love with a star performer. Along the way readers are treated to a few sides of history otherwise neglected and a portrait of the elderly that is tender and painful, but always honest, and not overly sentimental. If you feel sadness or exuberance or fear or triumph while reading this book, note that the writer has truly earned those feelings.

Bookmarks -- The Girl With the Long Green Heart

Found this book a few weeks ago browsing Half Price Books, and as a fan of Lawrence Block, I had to have it. Most of what I have read by Block have been mysteries from one of his series characters. I was particularly interested to read something written long before I had become a fan.

The Girl With The Long Green Heart is a fairly standard thriller, and I had much of it figured out before the protagonist, Johnny Hayden. Hayden is a ex-con hoping he can stay straight and work hard enough to buy and manage a rundown roadhouse. He's had a stint in San Quentin and doesn't plan to take any chances going back. That is until a former partner comes to town and offers him a chance to pull a grift that should make him the kind of money he'd need years to save.

I found myself rooting for Johnny, partly because he believes that he's found the woman who is the last piece of his dream, and partly because the guy getting shafted is such a despicable human being. The book may read slow for a few people, because there are plenty of details of the scam (and other sorts of grifts) that may seem tedious. However, I found the intricacies fascinating. Add a few dashes of lust, greed and anger -- emotions that oil the gears of the scam -- and you've got a pretty good story.

Music Notes -- If On A Winter's Night...

One might be tempted to call Sting's If On A Winter's Night... an agnostic's Christmas album, and that isn't far off. However, the project is more of a celebration, in general, of the season of Winter itself, with a few Christmas themed songs as part of the mix. Songs from the Labyrinth drew mostly from the songs of John Dowland, this disc is contains a variety of places and settings for its material, though most of them appear to be ancient. It is listed as a pop album, but it is really more classical.

I enjoyed the two songs based on the metaphor of Christ as a rose, "There is No Rose of Such Virtue" and "Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming," as well as the two opening songs "Gabriel's Message" and "Soul Cake." The opening tunes were catchy and set the theme of the project nicely. I also like Sting's own "The Hounds of Winter." But my favorite tune is "The Burning Babe," a poem by mystic Robert Southwell set to music by Chris Wood. In a stirring anthem, Sting sings of a vision of the baby Jesus who also came to die. Despite the unusual images and theme, this is also one of the most accessible songs on the album.

Sting writes some interesting liner notes for If On A Winter's Night.... Much of these revolve around the recording itself, but he also provides some background on many of the tunes. He also is sure to distance himself from some of the traditions surrounding a few of the songs He may not have needed to do the latter. The songs, like all good music, speak for themselves just fine.

Something to talk about?

I have come to believe that there is something about the mental makeup of most wide receivers that just needs adjustment. I have come to believe it is the most selfish position in the game, and that Americans have helped to create a lot of little Frankenstein's monsters by putting up with their antics, behaviors that for me, are no longer even interesting, and have long hurt not only the game, but sports itself.

I have also found that one of the dumbest arguments in sports -- and it gets bandied about a great deal lately -- is that people like Chad Johnson and Terrell Owens give us something to talk about. I wonder if oncologists says that about cancer: "Sure, it is terrible, but it gives us something to do." Sheesh!

Please note that I refuse to call Mr. Johnson by the name he gave himself. If he needs a nickname, it should be Johnson. And the man-boy Parcells called "The Player" will not have me call him by his initials. Doing so merely helps to legitimize their status as "important" to football. They are not.

But back to the idea these mortals give us something to talk about, which is what I wanted to comment on. I wonder why this argument gets made so frequently, especially by sports "authorities," writers and talk jocks who should know the game better than to rely on such a stupid statement. They all have many things to talk about without giving credence to the idea that these people are interesting. These athletes are only interesting because we continue to pay attention to them. They are like the disturbed little boy on the playground who does idiotic stunts like eat crickets or drops his pants because he wants attention. We outgrow such people and hopefully someone gets them professional help. In the NFL, we give them millions of dollars and all the television time they want.

Rarely do we find players at the wide receiver position that are not convinced that if only the ball came to them every freakin' down that the team would win every game. It isn't a new phenomenon. In fact, I've heard more than a few old quarterbacks say in interviews that so-and-so receiver always believed he was open, no matter how well covered. We see today that if a receiver runs a bad route, the quarterback is to blame, at least as far as the receiver and those in the booth are concerned. (I'm looking at you Roy Williams.)

I'm certainly not saying these guys aren't good athletes. Some of them are great. Some, like Randy Moss, would be truly great if they played for the whole game every game. But being good at what they do isn't really the issue. But maybe it is part of the problem.

In Texas, if you are a good football player, you can do pretty much anything you want. In many places, these guys can do minimally in school and play loose with the law -- as long as they continue to perform on the field. So it should surprise no one that in the most selfish position in the game, we let these mere men do as they please and give them attention, not for their play, but for what some idiots think is what we need to talk about that.

Should a teacher, a fireman, or even an NFL kicker act like these guys, and I bet you won't have a bunch of pundits saying how good it is that they gave everyone something to talk about. If sports is to have any importance beyond mere theatrics, then it is time to give these guys a few more cold shoulders.

Bookmarks -- Shop Class as Soulcraft

The subtitle of Matthew B. Crawford's Shop Class as Soulcraft is "An Inquiry Into the Value of Work." This is an apt description of his book, but one wonders who he is asking questions of. At times, Mr. Crawford appears to be forcing the reader to ask the questions, reevaluating the culture that has changed its idea of what it considers valuable work, and how it has changed the nature of education so that perhaps both the "knowledge worker" and the one who works with his/her hands are not in the best of all possible worlds.

Crawford notes that the trend in education is to discourage people away from training for jobs as mechanics and electricians, despite the idea that many are best suited for such careers, not because of intelligence, but because of temperament or because such careers might actually make people happy. I recall that at my high school some were encouraged to go to "trade school" only if their high school counselors felt they lacked the intellectual aptitude (or their families the money to help them feign such), and so these jobs were considered "beneath" those considered mentally capable for other work. The result of the push to get more people into "knowledge work," Crawford writes, is that we have not only people who are in jobs that they are not really able to do, but even when they are, they are not happy. Further, the gulf between such workers is so great that those who work as mechanics, for example, are hampered because people with no real experience in the craft are the ones the mechanic has to turn to for information instead of relying as much on his learned intuition and the community he builds around him.

That learning and community have not disappeared, Crawford tells us. But he hints that it might be diminishing.

I never saw my grandfather doing the work his college degree trained him for. But I knew about it. I often saw of him as a fixer, someone who took his own knowledge and willingness to tinker, and turned it into something good, often delighting in what he learned along the way. My father, who had spent many years as an airplane mechanic, was as creative a person as I've ever known. And my step-father, a mailman, was rarely at a loss working around the house. Perhaps this is why the book, despite some of its problems, appeals to me.

Bookmarks--Warhorses

I had the opportunity to sit in a library for a couple of hours, one where I had no privileges to check out books. Otherwise I would have taken home the copy of Yusef Komunyakaa's Warhorses I read while there. Komunyakaa is one of the our best and most significant poets, remaining so long after winning the Pulitzer for Neon Vernacular.

Warhorses is divided into three sections. The first is a sequence of blank and free verse sonnets titled, "Love In The Time of War." Here Komunyakaa writes, of course, of the many loves and losses during wartime, but also the battles during love. In the section, "Heavy Metal," there are poems which explore the connections of machines and madness to beauty. The final section, "Autobiography of My Alter Ego," is a free verse sequence about betrayal and forgiveness. Here Komunyakaa also addresses the theme of the wanderer.

I very much look forward to re-reading this packed volume again.

Publication Notes -- October 2009

Okay, I really don't have much to say as far as submissions and rejections. I have received a couple of rejections and have not sent much out, due to busy-ness. But I do have other news. I have published a few things at Smashwords. This is a place for e-books, and you can find them in a variety of formats, so you can download them to your computer or other devices you like to read on. At present, I have four e-books available, one collection of stories and three volumes of poetry. Click here to see my profile. The books are:

Die Laughing includes three of my stories ("Jabba the Cop," "I've Been Killed Before," and "Except the Weather.") All are first person narratives, with the protagonist a young man (late teens/early twenties).
Three Laments is a collection of three suites (some poetry people call them "sequences," but I prefer the musical word). These were written as I went through some of the most difficult times of grief in my life.

Making Rounds is a sequence of its own, a collection of short tanka-like poems written during my time as a security guard.

Walking in Circles is a short collection of early poems.

I do have plans to offer a couple more in the future. I have a couple of longer stories that don't seem to fit any of the publications I typically try to publish in, but they are stories I happen to think deserve an audience. You can click on the covers below for information about any book or to read samples.