Tuesday, November 08, 2016
Saturday, November 05, 2016
Story Writing
Recently someone sent me information about the National Novel Writing Month, an annual internet-based creative writing project. It was suggested I look into it and write something. Its wonderful when someone thinks me capable of such accomplishments, but I know my own limitations. I love reading novels, and I read a lot of them, but writing one has never been on my agenda. I gave a derisive laugh and discounted the continuing suggestions. Finally, out of curiosity, I scrolled the internet on how to write a mystery. There were many pointers on how to make a mystery really mysterious, and I learned that writing the ending was the best way to begin. So, I wrote a sentence.
Day 1:
Days later:
That is about as far as my ability to write a mystery goes. I'll leave mystery writing to guys like Grisham.
Day 1:
The sun was setting as she parked the car under the giant Sequoia at the side of the cabin.I kept changing the sentence, but couldn't come up with one that satisfied me, so I decided to let a few days go by before trying again.
She parked the car at the side of the cabin just as the sun was setting.
The sequoia at the side of the cabin shaded the car as she parked it.
She heaved a sigh of relief as she parked the car under the Sequoia tree.
She locked the car door, relieved to park before the sun set.
Days later:
As she parked the car under the Sequoia, she noticed the vehicle following her slow down as it passed her driveway entrance, but it continued on.
That is about as far as my ability to write a mystery goes. I'll leave mystery writing to guys like Grisham.
Tuesday, November 01, 2016
Casey-Twenty Years Later
The Bugville Team was surely up against a rocky game;
The chances were they'd win defeat and undying fame;
Three men were hurt and two were benched; the score stood six to four.
They had to make three hard-earned runs in just two innings more.
" It can't be done," The captain said, a pallor on his face;
"I've got two pitchers in the field, a mutt on second base;
And should another man get spiked or crippled in some way,
The team would sure be down and out, with eight men left to play.
"We're up against it anyhow as far as I can see;
My boys ain't hitting like they should and that's what worries me;
The luck is with the other side, no pennant will we win;
It's mighty tough, but we must take our medicine and grin."
The eighth round opened; one, two, three; the enemy went down;
The Bugville boys went out the same, the captain wore a frown;
The first half of the ninth came round, two men had been called out,
When Bugville's catcher broke a thumb and could not go that route.
A deathly silence settled o'er the crowd assembled there.
Defeat would be allotted them; they felt it in the air;
With only eight men in the field 'twould be a gruesome fray,
Small wonder that the captain cursed the day he learned to play.
"Lend me a man to finish with," he begged the other team;
"Lend you a man?" the foe replied; "My boy, you're in a dream;
We want to win the pennant too-that's what we're doing here,
There's only one thing you can do-call for a volunteer."
The captain stood and pondered in a listless sort of way;
He never was a quitter and would not be today!
"Is there within the grandstand here"-his voice rang loud and clear-
"A man who has the sporting blood to be a volunteer?"
Again that awful silence settled o'er the multitude;
Was there a man among them with such recklessness imbued?
The captain stood with cap in hand, while hopeless was his glance,
And then a short and stocky man cried out, "I'll take a chance."
Into the field he bounded with a step both firm and light;
"Give me the mask and mitt," he said, "let's finish up the fight.
The game is now beyond recall, I'll last at least a round;
Although I'm ancient you will find me muscular and sound."
His hair was sprinkled here and there with little streaks of gray;
Around his eyes and on his brow a bunch of wrinkles lay.
The captain smiled despairingly and slowly turned away.
"Why, he's all right," one rooter yelled. Another, "Let him play/"
"All right, go on," the captain sighed; the stranger turned around,
Took off his coat and collar, too, and threw them on the ground.
The humor of the situation seemed to hit them all,
And as he donned the mask and mitt, the umpire called, "Play ball!"
Three balls the pitcher at him hurled, three balls of lightning speed;
The stranger caught them all with ease and did not seem to heed.
Each ball had been pronounced a strike, the side had been put out,
And as he walked in towards the bench, he heard the rooters shout.
One Bugville boy went out on strikes, and one was killed at first;
The captain saw his awkward pose, and gnashed his teeth and cursed.
The third man smashed a double and the fourth man swatted clear,
Then, in a thunder of applause, up came the volunteer.
His feet were planted in the earth, he swung a warlike club;
The captain saw his awkward pose and softly whispered, "Dub!"
The pitcher looked at him and grinned, then heaved a might ball;
The echo of that fearful swat still lingers with us all.
High, fast and far that spheroid flew; it sailed and sailed away;
It ne'er was found, so it's supposed it still floats on today.
Three runs came in, the pennant would be Bugville's for a year;
The fans and players gathered round to cheer the volunteer.
"What is your name," the captain asked? "Tell us your name," cried all,
As down his cheeks great tears were seen to run and fall.
For one brief moment he was still, then murmured soft and low;
"I'm might Casey who struck out just twenty years ago."
The chances were they'd win defeat and undying fame;
Three men were hurt and two were benched; the score stood six to four.
They had to make three hard-earned runs in just two innings more.
" It can't be done," The captain said, a pallor on his face;
"I've got two pitchers in the field, a mutt on second base;
And should another man get spiked or crippled in some way,
The team would sure be down and out, with eight men left to play.
"We're up against it anyhow as far as I can see;
My boys ain't hitting like they should and that's what worries me;
The luck is with the other side, no pennant will we win;
It's mighty tough, but we must take our medicine and grin."
The eighth round opened; one, two, three; the enemy went down;
The Bugville boys went out the same, the captain wore a frown;
The first half of the ninth came round, two men had been called out,
When Bugville's catcher broke a thumb and could not go that route.
A deathly silence settled o'er the crowd assembled there.
Defeat would be allotted them; they felt it in the air;
With only eight men in the field 'twould be a gruesome fray,
Small wonder that the captain cursed the day he learned to play.
"Lend me a man to finish with," he begged the other team;
"Lend you a man?" the foe replied; "My boy, you're in a dream;
We want to win the pennant too-that's what we're doing here,
There's only one thing you can do-call for a volunteer."
The captain stood and pondered in a listless sort of way;
He never was a quitter and would not be today!
"Is there within the grandstand here"-his voice rang loud and clear-
"A man who has the sporting blood to be a volunteer?"
Again that awful silence settled o'er the multitude;
Was there a man among them with such recklessness imbued?
The captain stood with cap in hand, while hopeless was his glance,
And then a short and stocky man cried out, "I'll take a chance."
Into the field he bounded with a step both firm and light;
"Give me the mask and mitt," he said, "let's finish up the fight.
The game is now beyond recall, I'll last at least a round;
Although I'm ancient you will find me muscular and sound."
His hair was sprinkled here and there with little streaks of gray;
Around his eyes and on his brow a bunch of wrinkles lay.
The captain smiled despairingly and slowly turned away.
"Why, he's all right," one rooter yelled. Another, "Let him play/"
"All right, go on," the captain sighed; the stranger turned around,
Took off his coat and collar, too, and threw them on the ground.
The humor of the situation seemed to hit them all,
And as he donned the mask and mitt, the umpire called, "Play ball!"
Three balls the pitcher at him hurled, three balls of lightning speed;
The stranger caught them all with ease and did not seem to heed.
Each ball had been pronounced a strike, the side had been put out,
And as he walked in towards the bench, he heard the rooters shout.
One Bugville boy went out on strikes, and one was killed at first;
The captain saw his awkward pose, and gnashed his teeth and cursed.
The third man smashed a double and the fourth man swatted clear,
Then, in a thunder of applause, up came the volunteer.
His feet were planted in the earth, he swung a warlike club;
The captain saw his awkward pose and softly whispered, "Dub!"
The pitcher looked at him and grinned, then heaved a might ball;
The echo of that fearful swat still lingers with us all.
High, fast and far that spheroid flew; it sailed and sailed away;
It ne'er was found, so it's supposed it still floats on today.
Three runs came in, the pennant would be Bugville's for a year;
The fans and players gathered round to cheer the volunteer.
"What is your name," the captain asked? "Tell us your name," cried all,
As down his cheeks great tears were seen to run and fall.
For one brief moment he was still, then murmured soft and low;
"I'm might Casey who struck out just twenty years ago."
Monday, October 31, 2016
Casey's Revenge
There were saddened hearts in Mudville for a week or even more;
There were muttered oaths and curses-every fan in town was sore.
"Just think," said one, "how soft it looked with Casey at the bat!
And then to think he'd go and spring a bush-league trick like that."
All his past fame was forgotten; he was now a hopeless "shine,"
They called him "Strike-out Casey" from the mayor down the line,
And as he came to bat each day his bosom heaved a sigh,
While a look of hopeless fury shone in mighty Casey's eye.
The lane is long, someone has said, that never turns again,
And Fate, though fickle, often gives another chance to men,
And Casey smiled-his rugged face no longer wore a frown;
The pitcher who had started all the trouble came to town.
All Mudville had assembled; ten thousand fans had come
To see the twirler who had put big Casey on the bum;
And when he stepped into the box the multitude went wild.
He doffed his cap in proud disdain-but Casey only smiled.
"Play ball!" the umpire's voice rang out, and then the game began;
But in that throng of thousands there was not a single fan
Who thought that Mudville had a chance; and with the setting sun
Their hopes sank low-the rival team was leading "four to one."
The last half of the ninth came round, with no change in the score;
But when the first man up hit safe the crowed began to roar.
The din increased, the echo of ten thousand shouts was heard
When the pitcher hit the second and gave "four balls" to the third.
Three men on base-nobody out-three runs to tie the game!
A triple meant the highest niche in Mudville's hall of fame;
But here the rally ended and the gloom was deep as night
When the fourth one "fouled to catcher" and the fifth "flew out to right."
A dismal groan in chorus came-a scowl was on each face-
When Casey walked up, bat in hand, and slowly took his place;
His bloodshot eyes in fury gleamed; his teeth were clinched in hate;
He gave his cap a vicious hook and pounded on the plate.
But fame is fleeting as the wind, and glory fades away;
There were no wild and woolly cheers, no glad acclaim this day.
They hissed and groaned and hooted as they clamored, "Strike him out!"
But Casey gave no outward sign that he had heard this shout.
The pitcher smiled and cut one loose; across the plate it spread;
Another hiss, another groan, "Strike one!" the umpire said.
Zip! Like a shot, the second curve broke just below his knee-
"Strike two!" the umpire roared aloud; but Casey made no plea.
No roasting for the umpire now-his was an easy lot;
But here the pitcher whirled again-was that a rifle shot?
A whack! a crack! and out through space the leather pellet flew,
A blot against the distant sky, a speck against the blue..
Above the fence in center field, in rapid whirling flight,
The sphere sailed on; the blot grew dim and then was lost to sight.
Ten thousand hats were thrown in air, ten thousand threw a fit;
But no one ever found the ball that mighty Casey hit!
Oh, somewhere in this favored land dark clouds may hide the sun,
And somewhere bands no longer play and children have no fun;
And somewhere over blighted lives there hangs a heavy pall;
But Mudville hearts are happy now-for Casey hit the ball!
There were muttered oaths and curses-every fan in town was sore.
"Just think," said one, "how soft it looked with Casey at the bat!
And then to think he'd go and spring a bush-league trick like that."
All his past fame was forgotten; he was now a hopeless "shine,"
They called him "Strike-out Casey" from the mayor down the line,
And as he came to bat each day his bosom heaved a sigh,
While a look of hopeless fury shone in mighty Casey's eye.
The lane is long, someone has said, that never turns again,
And Fate, though fickle, often gives another chance to men,
And Casey smiled-his rugged face no longer wore a frown;
The pitcher who had started all the trouble came to town.
All Mudville had assembled; ten thousand fans had come
To see the twirler who had put big Casey on the bum;
And when he stepped into the box the multitude went wild.
He doffed his cap in proud disdain-but Casey only smiled.
"Play ball!" the umpire's voice rang out, and then the game began;
But in that throng of thousands there was not a single fan
Who thought that Mudville had a chance; and with the setting sun
Their hopes sank low-the rival team was leading "four to one."
The last half of the ninth came round, with no change in the score;
But when the first man up hit safe the crowed began to roar.
The din increased, the echo of ten thousand shouts was heard
When the pitcher hit the second and gave "four balls" to the third.
Three men on base-nobody out-three runs to tie the game!
A triple meant the highest niche in Mudville's hall of fame;
But here the rally ended and the gloom was deep as night
When the fourth one "fouled to catcher" and the fifth "flew out to right."
A dismal groan in chorus came-a scowl was on each face-
When Casey walked up, bat in hand, and slowly took his place;
His bloodshot eyes in fury gleamed; his teeth were clinched in hate;
He gave his cap a vicious hook and pounded on the plate.
But fame is fleeting as the wind, and glory fades away;
There were no wild and woolly cheers, no glad acclaim this day.
They hissed and groaned and hooted as they clamored, "Strike him out!"
But Casey gave no outward sign that he had heard this shout.
The pitcher smiled and cut one loose; across the plate it spread;
Another hiss, another groan, "Strike one!" the umpire said.
Zip! Like a shot, the second curve broke just below his knee-
"Strike two!" the umpire roared aloud; but Casey made no plea.
No roasting for the umpire now-his was an easy lot;
But here the pitcher whirled again-was that a rifle shot?
A whack! a crack! and out through space the leather pellet flew,
A blot against the distant sky, a speck against the blue..
Above the fence in center field, in rapid whirling flight,
The sphere sailed on; the blot grew dim and then was lost to sight.
Ten thousand hats were thrown in air, ten thousand threw a fit;
But no one ever found the ball that mighty Casey hit!
Oh, somewhere in this favored land dark clouds may hide the sun,
And somewhere bands no longer play and children have no fun;
And somewhere over blighted lives there hangs a heavy pall;
But Mudville hearts are happy now-for Casey hit the ball!
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Casey At The Bat
It looked extremely rocky for the Mudville nine that day;
The score stood two to four, with but an inning left to play.
So, when Cooney died at second, and Burrow did the same,
A pallor wreathed the features of the patrons of the game.
A straggling few got up to go, leaving there the rest,
with that hope which springs eternal within the human breast.
For they thought: ""If only Casey could get a whack at that,"
They'd put even money now, with Casey at the bat.
But Flynn preceded Casey, and likewise so did Blake,
And the former was a pudd'n and the latter was a fake.
So on that stricken multitude a deathlike silence sat;
For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.
But Flynn let drive a "single," to the wonderment of all.
And the much-despised Blakey "tore the cover off the ball."
And when the dust had lifted, and they saw what had occurred,
There was Blakey safe at second, and Flynn a-huggin' third.
Then from the gladdened multitude went up a joyous yell'_
It rumbled in the mountaintops, it rattled in the dell;
It struck upon the hillside and rebounded on the flat;
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place,
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face;
And when responding to the cheers he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt,
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then when the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance glanced in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.
And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped;
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.
From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm waves on the stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.
With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult, he made the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."
"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and the echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed;
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let the ball go by again.
The sneer is gone from Casey's lips, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel vengeance his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudville: Mighty Casey has struck out.
The score stood two to four, with but an inning left to play.
So, when Cooney died at second, and Burrow did the same,
A pallor wreathed the features of the patrons of the game.
A straggling few got up to go, leaving there the rest,
with that hope which springs eternal within the human breast.
For they thought: ""If only Casey could get a whack at that,"
They'd put even money now, with Casey at the bat.
But Flynn preceded Casey, and likewise so did Blake,
And the former was a pudd'n and the latter was a fake.
So on that stricken multitude a deathlike silence sat;
For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.
But Flynn let drive a "single," to the wonderment of all.
And the much-despised Blakey "tore the cover off the ball."
And when the dust had lifted, and they saw what had occurred,
There was Blakey safe at second, and Flynn a-huggin' third.
Then from the gladdened multitude went up a joyous yell'_
It rumbled in the mountaintops, it rattled in the dell;
It struck upon the hillside and rebounded on the flat;
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place,
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face;
And when responding to the cheers he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt,
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then when the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance glanced in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.
And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped;
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.
From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm waves on the stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.
With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult, he made the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."
"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and the echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed;
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let the ball go by again.
The sneer is gone from Casey's lips, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel vengeance his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudville: Mighty Casey has struck out.
Saturday, October 29, 2016
World Series
Chicago Cubs and Cleveland Indians are the teams playing this year. It has been 108 years since the Cubs made it to the Series and 68 years for the Indians. Of course there is lots of national interest, and truth be told, a wonderful break from the calamitous 24/7 hour presidential campaigns.
The song, 'Take Me Out To The Ball Game' was written by Jack Norworth and Albert von Tilzer, who had not seen a ball game prior to writing the song. Referred to as a Tin Pan Alley song because it was published by one of the popular music companies between New York's West 28th Street and 6th Ave, the area where the sound of so many cheap pianos being played sounded like the banging of pans.
The 1908 version is no longer sung, but the chorus is still popular and is traditionally sung during the middle of the 7th inning. Fans usually join in.
The song, 'Take Me Out To The Ball Game' was written by Jack Norworth and Albert von Tilzer, who had not seen a ball game prior to writing the song. Referred to as a Tin Pan Alley song because it was published by one of the popular music companies between New York's West 28th Street and 6th Ave, the area where the sound of so many cheap pianos being played sounded like the banging of pans.
The 1908 version is no longer sung, but the chorus is still popular and is traditionally sung during the middle of the 7th inning. Fans usually join in.
Chorus
Take me out to the ball game,
Take me out with the crowd;
Buy me some peanuts and cracker jack,
I don't care if I never get back.
Let me root, root, root for the home team,
If they don't win its a shame.
For its one, two, three strikes you're out,
At the old ball game.
Take me out to the ball game,
Take me out with the crowd;
Buy me some peanuts and cracker jack,
I don't care if I never get back.
Let me root, root, root for the home team,
If they don't win its a shame.
For its one, two, three strikes you're out,
At the old ball game.
Wednesday, October 26, 2016
Dictionary Definitions
Once upon a time, when I was in the fourth grade, the teacher taught the class how to use the dictionary, and we were allowed to leave our seats without permission when ever we needed to look up the meaning of a word. The dictionary was a heavy, thick book on a stand across the room from my desk, alongside the wall of windows where play grounds and recess areas were visible.
I think I used the freedom of going to the dictionary more than any other classmate, making numerous trips per day. I actually did look up the meanings of words, but I also took sneaky peaks out the windows to see what was happening outside. Sometimes it really did take a while to leaf thru pages and scroll thru the alphabet to find the word I was looking for. You would think with all that effort, I might have learned to spell.
Some words I've recently checked in the dictionary:
Deception: act of deceiving, state of being deceived, trick, stratagem, ruse, hoax, fraud, artifice
Artifice: a clever trick or stratagem, crafty, expedient, wile, cunning, contrivance, subterfuge
Subterfuge: deception to achieve an end, a stratagem employed to conceal or evade, an expedient used to evade a rule or escape consequences
I think I used the freedom of going to the dictionary more than any other classmate, making numerous trips per day. I actually did look up the meanings of words, but I also took sneaky peaks out the windows to see what was happening outside. Sometimes it really did take a while to leaf thru pages and scroll thru the alphabet to find the word I was looking for. You would think with all that effort, I might have learned to spell.
Some words I've recently checked in the dictionary:
Deception: act of deceiving, state of being deceived, trick, stratagem, ruse, hoax, fraud, artifice
Artifice: a clever trick or stratagem, crafty, expedient, wile, cunning, contrivance, subterfuge
Subterfuge: deception to achieve an end, a stratagem employed to conceal or evade, an expedient used to evade a rule or escape consequences
Thursday, October 20, 2016
Election Stress Disorder
I'm suffering from election stress disorder from the, "he said", "she said" stuff in the campaign speeches of the two most disliked nominees in history; both wanting to be president. After listening to their last scheduled debate, my stress level has skyrocketed!
Where did we go wrong?
Where did we go wrong?
Bring me a person to match my mountains.
Bring me a person to match my plains.
A person with empires in their purpose and new eras in their brains.paraphrased quote of Sam Walter Foss
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Undercover Boss
In the television program, Undercover Boss, CEO's of companies that depend on the satisfaction of the public they serve, disguise themselves and work incognito along side employees to see for themselves just how well the company is doing. After working in several capacities and at various company locations for a week or more, they report back to the executives at the home office. The CEO then invites the employees that he worked with to come to the home office where they learn about the deception. Of course the employees are surprised. After their conduct is discussed, the episode ends on a high note; some get compliments and a raise, some get bonuses, and some get an all expense paid vacation to a place of their choice.
During the episode that highlighted White Castle hamburgers, I was reminded of the many vacation trips when the family traveled from the Midwest thru southern states to visit relatives. On one of the trips we discovered a White Castle. It was a new experience for us. The town we lived in did not have a hamburger stand. We did have two lunch cafes that listed hamburgers on the menu, but they primarily sold things like hot beef sandwiches. One of the cafes did a big business selling milk shakes, fried ham sandwiches and coca cola. This was long before McDonalds or Burger King.
We were delighted to find White Castles and we looked for them as we drove from town to town. Looking for them became a game second only to stamping white horses every time you saw one in a field as we drove by. To stamp a white horse, you moistened the tip of your thumb, tapped it on the palm of your hand, then tapped the palm with a closed fist to seal the stamp.
It has been many years since I ate a White Castle burger. I don't remember what towns they were in, but as Undercover Boss filmed the one in Covington, Kentucky, I like to think we might have stopped there for burgers on our way to Louisville, Kentucky, our primary vacation destination.
During the episode that highlighted White Castle hamburgers, I was reminded of the many vacation trips when the family traveled from the Midwest thru southern states to visit relatives. On one of the trips we discovered a White Castle. It was a new experience for us. The town we lived in did not have a hamburger stand. We did have two lunch cafes that listed hamburgers on the menu, but they primarily sold things like hot beef sandwiches. One of the cafes did a big business selling milk shakes, fried ham sandwiches and coca cola. This was long before McDonalds or Burger King.
We were delighted to find White Castles and we looked for them as we drove from town to town. Looking for them became a game second only to stamping white horses every time you saw one in a field as we drove by. To stamp a white horse, you moistened the tip of your thumb, tapped it on the palm of your hand, then tapped the palm with a closed fist to seal the stamp.
It has been many years since I ate a White Castle burger. I don't remember what towns they were in, but as Undercover Boss filmed the one in Covington, Kentucky, I like to think we might have stopped there for burgers on our way to Louisville, Kentucky, our primary vacation destination.
Friday, October 14, 2016
Will He or Will She?
When I was growing up and became upset over some trifle, my grandmother would tell me, "in a hundred years it won't make any difference". It annoyed me no end when she would say it, but I would grudgingly realize I was probably creating a tempest in a teapot. Now I've decided to apply her advice to the campaigns being run by the two people running for president of the United States.
I've stopped listening to the coverage of the campaigns since it has been reduced to an endless recitation of the insults nominees hurl at each other. Instead, I've turned my attention to reading about a long ago city with a population of 40,000 that existed in the Mississippi valley more than a 1000 years before European contact. Cahokia, a pre-Columbian Native American City, was located directly across the Mississippi river at St Louis, Missouri.
Cahokia was a complex and sophisticated society sustained by a three fold agriculture, corn, beans and squash. It was larger than London in 1250. The people of Cahokia began mound building sometime around the 9th century. The original site contained 120 earthen mounds over an area of 6 sq. miles, but only 89 remain. Many of them destroyed by later farming. To achieve this, thousands of workers, over decades, moved an estimated 55 million cubic ft. of earth in woven baskets, creating a network of mounds and plazas that covered 14 acres and topped by a massive 5000 sq. ft. building 50 ft. high. A mound called Monk Mound has 4 terraces and is 951 ft. long, 836 ft. wide and covers 13.8 acres. It contains 814,000 cu yard of earth.
Anthropologists think the original idea, that Cahokia may have had a warrior-male structure, is a misunderstanding. New discoveries in Mound 72 the highly decorated grave site may have clues to the politics and culture. Cahokia was abandoned around 1300 and not re-occupied by indigenous tribes. The fate of the people remains a mystery. The site may have become unhealthy with polluted water ways, over hunting, deforestation and flooding. In 2015, evidence was found of two severe floods occurring: one in 1100 and one in 1260.
Cahokia is a UNESSCO Heritage Site. The Illinois State Historical Site maintains the park along with the Cahokia Preservation Agency. It's open to the public with tours and events listed on the Illinois web page.
I've stopped listening to the coverage of the campaigns since it has been reduced to an endless recitation of the insults nominees hurl at each other. Instead, I've turned my attention to reading about a long ago city with a population of 40,000 that existed in the Mississippi valley more than a 1000 years before European contact. Cahokia, a pre-Columbian Native American City, was located directly across the Mississippi river at St Louis, Missouri.
Cahokia was a complex and sophisticated society sustained by a three fold agriculture, corn, beans and squash. It was larger than London in 1250. The people of Cahokia began mound building sometime around the 9th century. The original site contained 120 earthen mounds over an area of 6 sq. miles, but only 89 remain. Many of them destroyed by later farming. To achieve this, thousands of workers, over decades, moved an estimated 55 million cubic ft. of earth in woven baskets, creating a network of mounds and plazas that covered 14 acres and topped by a massive 5000 sq. ft. building 50 ft. high. A mound called Monk Mound has 4 terraces and is 951 ft. long, 836 ft. wide and covers 13.8 acres. It contains 814,000 cu yard of earth.
Anthropologists think the original idea, that Cahokia may have had a warrior-male structure, is a misunderstanding. New discoveries in Mound 72 the highly decorated grave site may have clues to the politics and culture. Cahokia was abandoned around 1300 and not re-occupied by indigenous tribes. The fate of the people remains a mystery. The site may have become unhealthy with polluted water ways, over hunting, deforestation and flooding. In 2015, evidence was found of two severe floods occurring: one in 1100 and one in 1260.
Cahokia is a UNESSCO Heritage Site. The Illinois State Historical Site maintains the park along with the Cahokia Preservation Agency. It's open to the public with tours and events listed on the Illinois web page.
Sunday, September 25, 2016
Kokopelli
I'm late to the party....I only recently learned about Kokopelli. I had admired a beautiful shirt my son was wearing. The fabric had an unusual repeating design that my son said was the mythical Hopi music god, Kokopelli. Of course I was off to the internet to find out more about this Hopi god.
Kokopelli is the only anthropomorphic petroglyph to have a name, an identity and an established gender. Depicted as a hunch-backed playing a flute, Kokopelli is a symbol of fertility, music, art, healer and story teller. The images of Kokopelli are derived from ancient Anasazi glyphs found throughout the American southwest. They appear on Hohokam pottery, but petroglyph carvings precede the Hohokam, dating back 3000years,
The god has always been a source of music, dancing and spreading joy to those around him. He carries a bag of unborn babies which he gives to women wanting a baby, and he also carries seeds for planting. He brings rain for successful harvests. Traveling from village to village, playing his flute to announce his arrival, he trades old songs for new ones, and the nights are spent dancing.
Due to Catholic missionaries influence, the image of Kokopelli was 'cleaned up' and the emasculated version has been adopted as a broader symbol. Modern images of Kokopelli always show him with a flute and a bag, which makes him look hunched-back.
Kokopelli history, photos of petroglyphs and art work can be found on the internet. I discovered that his image is a popular decoration , especially on men and women's clothing, dishware, coffee mugs, bedding, pillows and towels.
Kokopelli is the only anthropomorphic petroglyph to have a name, an identity and an established gender. Depicted as a hunch-backed playing a flute, Kokopelli is a symbol of fertility, music, art, healer and story teller. The images of Kokopelli are derived from ancient Anasazi glyphs found throughout the American southwest. They appear on Hohokam pottery, but petroglyph carvings precede the Hohokam, dating back 3000years,
The god has always been a source of music, dancing and spreading joy to those around him. He carries a bag of unborn babies which he gives to women wanting a baby, and he also carries seeds for planting. He brings rain for successful harvests. Traveling from village to village, playing his flute to announce his arrival, he trades old songs for new ones, and the nights are spent dancing.
Due to Catholic missionaries influence, the image of Kokopelli was 'cleaned up' and the emasculated version has been adopted as a broader symbol. Modern images of Kokopelli always show him with a flute and a bag, which makes him look hunched-back.
Kokopelli history, photos of petroglyphs and art work can be found on the internet. I discovered that his image is a popular decoration , especially on men and women's clothing, dishware, coffee mugs, bedding, pillows and towels.
Saturday, September 17, 2016
Castles
Castles come in all sizes, shapes and forms. They are spectacular structures, some remembered for historical reasons, some remembered from fairytale stories about castles and knights. But the castles I find most astonishing are castles, also known as human towers.
I had never heard of them. It never even crossed my mind that anyone would have considered such a feat as building a human tower. Oh, the little circus pyramids with a few people standing on the shoulders of one another... ok, but a tower? It just goes to show you how far some people will go to try and prove something.
I learned about human towers while watching a PBS program about the forces of nature. Gravity, being a force of nature, is a factor in building these cultural phenomenon, particular to Catalonia, which are called Castells. The tradition originated at the end of the 18th century when rival groups of people began to construct different kinds of human towers.
A castle has three definite parts: pinya (base), tronc (trunk), and pom de dalt (crown). All the accumulated weight rests on the horizontal base, which stabilizes and strengthens the erected structure- and also softens the fall of climbers if a break in the tower causes it to collapse. The trunk is crowned by children, who are more agile and light-footed. The youngsters are in charge of climbing to the top, raising an arm and saluting the public.
There can be several levels of supporting structures, each being added in a precise order with an allotted station for everyone within the group. Building the tower is accompanied by special music as the last climber crowns the tower and raises an arm in salute. The job is not finished with the crowning. It has to be brought down safely to be considered completed.
Towers of 8 story were built in the '80s, but in 1995 a 9 story castle was given the name Cathedral due to overcoming the great difficulty when built and successfully completed. On April 11,2012, China attempted to build the tallest 9 story castle, but failed when it collapsed. India is also very active in building castles.
Originally they were only built on Sundays, but over time they have become so popular that they are constructed on any day of the week, at festivals and at competitions in other countries. Its fascinating to watch the many attempts on YouTube, and even more so watching the videos on how the base is constructed. Its truly a heart pounding experience to watch a very small child climb a tower, crown it, then scramble back down to safety.
I had never heard of them. It never even crossed my mind that anyone would have considered such a feat as building a human tower. Oh, the little circus pyramids with a few people standing on the shoulders of one another... ok, but a tower? It just goes to show you how far some people will go to try and prove something.
I learned about human towers while watching a PBS program about the forces of nature. Gravity, being a force of nature, is a factor in building these cultural phenomenon, particular to Catalonia, which are called Castells. The tradition originated at the end of the 18th century when rival groups of people began to construct different kinds of human towers.
A castle has three definite parts: pinya (base), tronc (trunk), and pom de dalt (crown). All the accumulated weight rests on the horizontal base, which stabilizes and strengthens the erected structure- and also softens the fall of climbers if a break in the tower causes it to collapse. The trunk is crowned by children, who are more agile and light-footed. The youngsters are in charge of climbing to the top, raising an arm and saluting the public.
There can be several levels of supporting structures, each being added in a precise order with an allotted station for everyone within the group. Building the tower is accompanied by special music as the last climber crowns the tower and raises an arm in salute. The job is not finished with the crowning. It has to be brought down safely to be considered completed.
Towers of 8 story were built in the '80s, but in 1995 a 9 story castle was given the name Cathedral due to overcoming the great difficulty when built and successfully completed. On April 11,2012, China attempted to build the tallest 9 story castle, but failed when it collapsed. India is also very active in building castles.
Originally they were only built on Sundays, but over time they have become so popular that they are constructed on any day of the week, at festivals and at competitions in other countries. Its fascinating to watch the many attempts on YouTube, and even more so watching the videos on how the base is constructed. Its truly a heart pounding experience to watch a very small child climb a tower, crown it, then scramble back down to safety.
Friday, September 09, 2016
Marathons
I just did a marathon. Not the running kind. A television replay of the series, Downton Abby, which aired for 6 seasons from 2011-2016 on PBS. It was a take off on the famous Up Stairs, Down Stairs, a story about how the landed gentry of England lived in contrast to the servants that catered to them.
Downton Abby depicts the years between 1912 and 1925, years before and after the first world war. Relationships, behavior and hierarchy delineated what was acceptable and what was not. Conventions, rigid rules and traditions comprised the structure of society, but the ride of the working class changed the stability of the aristocracy.
Melodramatic emphasis on weddings and deaths (discord and intrigue in between), elaborate rituals of dining with glittering silver and glistening wine glasses, appropriate attire for men and a stunning array of women's fashion, helped build the theme of Downton Abby. Written by Julian Fellowes, Downton Abby is not an historical film, but much of the filming was done with an eye to authenticity. It was amusing when the script introduced 'modern ' conveniences like the telephone and radio, but even during my childhood, those conveniences were still relatively new to our daily lives.
My family had one of he few telephones in town. Back in those days, it was common for families with a phone to receive calls from people out of the area, or in another state, trying to reach a neighbor with important news. Someone would run to fetch the neighbor and to come as fast as possible. We also used the phone as a news service. When the town fire whistle sounded at any time other than its usual Friday 12 O'clock test time, we knew there was a fire in town and we used the phone to ask a telephone operator where it was.
Until the invention of automatic toasters, forgetting to turn the slice of bread so it would toast on the other side, always burned the bread and smoked up the place. One of our earliest radios had a huge horn that funneled the sound. Then radios became more box like with dials and a built in sound system. Radios along with newspapers kept us informed of world events. Today, radios are so common, its hard to imagine an auto without one.
Downton Abby depicts the years between 1912 and 1925, years before and after the first world war. Relationships, behavior and hierarchy delineated what was acceptable and what was not. Conventions, rigid rules and traditions comprised the structure of society, but the ride of the working class changed the stability of the aristocracy.
Melodramatic emphasis on weddings and deaths (discord and intrigue in between), elaborate rituals of dining with glittering silver and glistening wine glasses, appropriate attire for men and a stunning array of women's fashion, helped build the theme of Downton Abby. Written by Julian Fellowes, Downton Abby is not an historical film, but much of the filming was done with an eye to authenticity. It was amusing when the script introduced 'modern ' conveniences like the telephone and radio, but even during my childhood, those conveniences were still relatively new to our daily lives.
My family had one of he few telephones in town. Back in those days, it was common for families with a phone to receive calls from people out of the area, or in another state, trying to reach a neighbor with important news. Someone would run to fetch the neighbor and to come as fast as possible. We also used the phone as a news service. When the town fire whistle sounded at any time other than its usual Friday 12 O'clock test time, we knew there was a fire in town and we used the phone to ask a telephone operator where it was.
Until the invention of automatic toasters, forgetting to turn the slice of bread so it would toast on the other side, always burned the bread and smoked up the place. One of our earliest radios had a huge horn that funneled the sound. Then radios became more box like with dials and a built in sound system. Radios along with newspapers kept us informed of world events. Today, radios are so common, its hard to imagine an auto without one.
Friday, September 02, 2016
King Cobra
The other evening during the National News broadcast, a reporter told of an escaped King Cobra in Needville, Texas. The 23 year old owner, who holds all the proper permits allowing him to keep venomous snakes, discovered it was missing about 7 in the morning. He told authorities that he takes care to securely lock all the cages, and he doesn't know how the Cobra escaped.
The venom from a single bite could kill an elephant, or 20 men. A Dr. toxicologist in Houston, Texas was notified and an intense search for the Cobra began. During the search, a Sheriff's deputy shot and killed a snake that turned out to be a Cottonmouth. After 9 hours of searching, the Cobra was found and captured by a snake wrangler.
When this story aired, several of us started telling our own snake stories. I do not like these slithery critters and make every effort never to come in contact with one. At one point I would not even touch a magazine page if there was a picture of a snake on it. When I was in high school, Biology was my favorite subject and I thought of becoming a Biology teacher, but I could never get pass the fact that I would have to be more knowledgeable about snakes....even having to touch one.
Years passed with my avoidance of same until I moved to Texas. Then I came to the realization that I had to overcome my fear, at least to the point of not panicking at the sight of one. Eventually I did reach a point where I only reacted with a moment of fright if I unexpectedly came across one.
At that time my parents and I lived in houses on either side of a long driveway. On my parents side of the driveway were huge, ancient Oak trees. On my side of the driveway were huge Pecan trees. There was a footpath leading from my kitchen porch, crossing the driveway, to my parents kitchen porch. The path was shaded by a long, upper branch of an Oak tree.
From time to time we knew that snakes were in the trees after bird eggs when we heard birds screeching and flitting about as squirrels squawked. One day we a snake that had staked out territory along the branch right above the pathway, We could see it move in and out of a hollow hole in a side branch, but generally stretched out along the branch above the path.
I had heard of snakes falling on people and I didn't like the idea of it possibly falling on me as I walked the pathway. I telephoned the city hall where all the town officials had offices and asked for someone to come and shoot it. They explained that it was illegal to shoot a gun within city limits, but they would see what they could do. The next day one of the men that worked in the water department came with his gun and said he had been chosen to shoot the snake because he was known to be the best shot.
He could see the head of the snake and said it would be a very difficult shot, but he'd try. We all gathered around and were very quiet as he walked around to get the best view. He said it would have to be shot on the first try because the snake would move back into the hole and he'd not get another chance. When he finally aimed the gun, he just held the position for what seemed a long, long time. We all held our breath, not daring to breath a sound.. Suddenly, there was an ear splitting gunshot and we saw the snake fall to the ground. Afterward the shooter told us it had been an almost impossible shot, and that he was just lucky. We knew he was being modest, but in truth, it was an exceptional accomplishment!
The venom from a single bite could kill an elephant, or 20 men. A Dr. toxicologist in Houston, Texas was notified and an intense search for the Cobra began. During the search, a Sheriff's deputy shot and killed a snake that turned out to be a Cottonmouth. After 9 hours of searching, the Cobra was found and captured by a snake wrangler.
When this story aired, several of us started telling our own snake stories. I do not like these slithery critters and make every effort never to come in contact with one. At one point I would not even touch a magazine page if there was a picture of a snake on it. When I was in high school, Biology was my favorite subject and I thought of becoming a Biology teacher, but I could never get pass the fact that I would have to be more knowledgeable about snakes....even having to touch one.
Years passed with my avoidance of same until I moved to Texas. Then I came to the realization that I had to overcome my fear, at least to the point of not panicking at the sight of one. Eventually I did reach a point where I only reacted with a moment of fright if I unexpectedly came across one.
At that time my parents and I lived in houses on either side of a long driveway. On my parents side of the driveway were huge, ancient Oak trees. On my side of the driveway were huge Pecan trees. There was a footpath leading from my kitchen porch, crossing the driveway, to my parents kitchen porch. The path was shaded by a long, upper branch of an Oak tree.
From time to time we knew that snakes were in the trees after bird eggs when we heard birds screeching and flitting about as squirrels squawked. One day we a snake that had staked out territory along the branch right above the pathway, We could see it move in and out of a hollow hole in a side branch, but generally stretched out along the branch above the path.
I had heard of snakes falling on people and I didn't like the idea of it possibly falling on me as I walked the pathway. I telephoned the city hall where all the town officials had offices and asked for someone to come and shoot it. They explained that it was illegal to shoot a gun within city limits, but they would see what they could do. The next day one of the men that worked in the water department came with his gun and said he had been chosen to shoot the snake because he was known to be the best shot.
He could see the head of the snake and said it would be a very difficult shot, but he'd try. We all gathered around and were very quiet as he walked around to get the best view. He said it would have to be shot on the first try because the snake would move back into the hole and he'd not get another chance. When he finally aimed the gun, he just held the position for what seemed a long, long time. We all held our breath, not daring to breath a sound.. Suddenly, there was an ear splitting gunshot and we saw the snake fall to the ground. Afterward the shooter told us it had been an almost impossible shot, and that he was just lucky. We knew he was being modest, but in truth, it was an exceptional accomplishment!
Saturday, August 27, 2016
Games
Games are such an important part of our lives, we must have a game gene. we even start playing games within hours of being born; our fist game is called peek-a-boo. During the 2016 Rio Summer Olympics, 28 different games were played. An additional 5 games will be included in the 2020 Summer games.
Each Olympic game is represented by an International governing body or Federation and the International Olympic Committee determines which games will be included in the events. For any game to be part of the Olympics, they must be widely practiced in at least 75 countries, spread over 4 continents.
All sports are considered games, but not all games are sport. The difference being sports have an athletic or physical element. While I watched the various Olympic events, I realized many of our favorite games include playing with a ball. There are probably more, but here are some I thought of:
baseball, soccer, basketball, football, golf, tennis, ping pong, catch, doge ball, jacks, bowling, jai alai, croquet, billiards, soft ball, la cross, cricket, field hockey, and water polo. One thing leads to another and I thought about how we use sticks to play: golf, fishing, baseball........ENOUGH ALREADY !!!!!
Each Olympic game is represented by an International governing body or Federation and the International Olympic Committee determines which games will be included in the events. For any game to be part of the Olympics, they must be widely practiced in at least 75 countries, spread over 4 continents.
All sports are considered games, but not all games are sport. The difference being sports have an athletic or physical element. While I watched the various Olympic events, I realized many of our favorite games include playing with a ball. There are probably more, but here are some I thought of:
baseball, soccer, basketball, football, golf, tennis, ping pong, catch, doge ball, jacks, bowling, jai alai, croquet, billiards, soft ball, la cross, cricket, field hockey, and water polo. One thing leads to another and I thought about how we use sticks to play: golf, fishing, baseball........ENOUGH ALREADY !!!!!
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
My Latest
My latest food fad is Mediterranean pita bread. I get the pita rolls from a restaurant that bakes there own. The round flat rolls are larger than a saucer, and have to be cut open for filling. They are so good I often eat them without cutting them open and stuffing them with left-overs.
My latest preferred TV commercials are the Lincoln ads with Matthew McCaughey telling his dogs they can't have barbeque for supper, and the Capitol One ad with Samuel L. Jackson.
My latest read is a book by Laura Bates, Shakespeare Saved My Life. Its a memoir reflecting the author's recollections of her experience teaching Shakespeare to prisoners in solitary confinement for a period of ten years. She describes how the prisoners lives were changed and how her life was affected thru working with prisoners.
The author completed her PhD at University of Chicago. Although her academic training was Shakespeare, she taught introductory level classes in English Literature to inmates in a maximum security prison in Chicago. Earning a reputation for her work with prisoners, the Indiana State University Correction Education program arranged for her to teach Shakespeare to prisoners in solitary confinement in the maximum security unit at Wabash Valley, Indiana. The 2 hour class was held one evening a week.
The prisoners, ages between 20 and 35, were locked in individual cells. The doors had waist high apertures for passing food and handcuffing. Voices could be heard, but their faces were only partially visible if they crouched down at the aperture. During the class, Laura sat alone on an improvised chair in the corridor, the prisoners in cells on each side of the corridor. The prisoners, considered the 'worst of the worst' had been in solitary for various lengths of time; one had been in solitary for ten years.
Amazingly, the prisoners were attentive and always polite as they shared opinions and carried on discussions about the emotions characters in the plays experienced, especially those in Macbeth, Hamlet and Othello. They told how they related to Shakespeare as the author and the various characters. They analyzed their own lives and even translated the plays into their street language.
My latest preferred TV commercials are the Lincoln ads with Matthew McCaughey telling his dogs they can't have barbeque for supper, and the Capitol One ad with Samuel L. Jackson.
My latest read is a book by Laura Bates, Shakespeare Saved My Life. Its a memoir reflecting the author's recollections of her experience teaching Shakespeare to prisoners in solitary confinement for a period of ten years. She describes how the prisoners lives were changed and how her life was affected thru working with prisoners.
The author completed her PhD at University of Chicago. Although her academic training was Shakespeare, she taught introductory level classes in English Literature to inmates in a maximum security prison in Chicago. Earning a reputation for her work with prisoners, the Indiana State University Correction Education program arranged for her to teach Shakespeare to prisoners in solitary confinement in the maximum security unit at Wabash Valley, Indiana. The 2 hour class was held one evening a week.
The prisoners, ages between 20 and 35, were locked in individual cells. The doors had waist high apertures for passing food and handcuffing. Voices could be heard, but their faces were only partially visible if they crouched down at the aperture. During the class, Laura sat alone on an improvised chair in the corridor, the prisoners in cells on each side of the corridor. The prisoners, considered the 'worst of the worst' had been in solitary for various lengths of time; one had been in solitary for ten years.
Amazingly, the prisoners were attentive and always polite as they shared opinions and carried on discussions about the emotions characters in the plays experienced, especially those in Macbeth, Hamlet and Othello. They told how they related to Shakespeare as the author and the various characters. They analyzed their own lives and even translated the plays into their street language.
Friday, August 19, 2016
Championships
I've been watching Olympic games. Only the worlds best athletes compete for Gold, Silver or Bronze medals. The games are very exciting to watch, and one has to admire the ability of the participants even when they lose. The contestants determination to win, plus rivalry between countries create nail biting moments in each sporting event.
There is another Olympiad where 'Mental Athletes' also compete for Gold, Silver and Bronze medals. Set up as a sporting event, the tournament consists of memorizing exercises in individual competitions. The top 8 contestants go on to the championship round.
The American Memory Championship was started in 1997 by Tony Dottino, president of Dottino Consulting Group after he met Tony Buzan, a British educator who started the first Memory Championship in London in 1991. There are now established championships in a dozen countries, including China, So Africa and Mexico.
There are two kinds of memory. Internal, the kind we are born with, and External, the memory stored outside our brains. Medieval scholars memorized sermons and plays; Roman Senators memorized speeches. After Gutenberg invented books, we supplanted our own natural memory with an elaborate external system of preserving everything we consider valuable such as literature, music, law, politics, science and math. It was no longer necessary to practice memorizing. Its more important to know where and how to find history stored in books, photos, museums, digital media, etc.
Memorizing has become a curiosity trick, but Championship tournaments are rescuing the ancient art of using mnemonics in memory exercises that anyone with an average memory ability can practice. There are many web sites on the net that teach and explain how to practice mnemonic techniques. Journalist Josh Foer in his book, "Moonlighting With Einstein" tells in some detail how to create a Memory Palace, an imagined space wherein strings with elaborate encoding are imprinted on one's memory simply by engaging one's spatial memory in the act of remembering. A string of numbers, a shopping list or a long poem are retrieved as visual images that had been arranged in the imagined space.
The 19th USA Championship was held May 7th, 2016 in Hershey Pa. There were 3 events.
There is another Olympiad where 'Mental Athletes' also compete for Gold, Silver and Bronze medals. Set up as a sporting event, the tournament consists of memorizing exercises in individual competitions. The top 8 contestants go on to the championship round.
The American Memory Championship was started in 1997 by Tony Dottino, president of Dottino Consulting Group after he met Tony Buzan, a British educator who started the first Memory Championship in London in 1991. There are now established championships in a dozen countries, including China, So Africa and Mexico.
There are two kinds of memory. Internal, the kind we are born with, and External, the memory stored outside our brains. Medieval scholars memorized sermons and plays; Roman Senators memorized speeches. After Gutenberg invented books, we supplanted our own natural memory with an elaborate external system of preserving everything we consider valuable such as literature, music, law, politics, science and math. It was no longer necessary to practice memorizing. Its more important to know where and how to find history stored in books, photos, museums, digital media, etc.
Memorizing has become a curiosity trick, but Championship tournaments are rescuing the ancient art of using mnemonics in memory exercises that anyone with an average memory ability can practice. There are many web sites on the net that teach and explain how to practice mnemonic techniques. Journalist Josh Foer in his book, "Moonlighting With Einstein" tells in some detail how to create a Memory Palace, an imagined space wherein strings with elaborate encoding are imprinted on one's memory simply by engaging one's spatial memory in the act of remembering. A string of numbers, a shopping list or a long poem are retrieved as visual images that had been arranged in the imagined space.
The 19th USA Championship was held May 7th, 2016 in Hershey Pa. There were 3 events.
- Spoken Words. Contestants had 15 minutes to memorize 200 words organized numerically in 5 columns, with 20 words per column on 2 pages. Starting with number 1, remember as many as possible consecutively. 15 seconds to answer.
- Three Strikes You're Out. contestants had 15 minutes to listen and review written facts about 6 different people, their names, date of birth, where they lived, their pet, favorite 3 hobbies, favorite car, favorite 3 foods. After retention period, 15 seconds to answer.
- Double Decks O'cards. Contestants had 5 minutes to memorize 2 decks of 52 playing cards, identical, previously arranged in the same exact order, but not mixed and with different colored backs. After the memorizing period, there was a 2 minute hiatus prior to recall, and 15 seconds to answer.
Friday, August 12, 2016
Dancing
Well! What do you know? I'm learning to samba. Well....not really...just the basic steps...so far. During the Olympics when the samba was introduced, I was amazed when the camera focused on a very young boy dancing the samba. His footwork was remarkable, and from time to time, the camera focused on him would breakaway and pan the stadium to highlight various dancers, many of them doing very fast advanced steps.
I thought physical agility was required to do the dance, but the body movements seem to flow naturally once you learn to bounce and move the hips as one's weight is shifted. The dance steps look complex, but its easy to learn the basic steps. I went to a web site teaching 'samba in 4 minutes'.
Samba music is very fast, and it takes practice to do the steps fast. Good samba dancers do the advanced steps and can twirl and strut without missing a beat. I have no illusions about my becoming a good samba dancer. I'll probably never get much further than the basics, but I'll have fun practicing. And, who knows, maybe if anyone reading this is interested, they too can learn to samba from a YouTube.
I thought physical agility was required to do the dance, but the body movements seem to flow naturally once you learn to bounce and move the hips as one's weight is shifted. The dance steps look complex, but its easy to learn the basic steps. I went to a web site teaching 'samba in 4 minutes'.
Samba music is very fast, and it takes practice to do the steps fast. Good samba dancers do the advanced steps and can twirl and strut without missing a beat. I have no illusions about my becoming a good samba dancer. I'll probably never get much further than the basics, but I'll have fun practicing. And, who knows, maybe if anyone reading this is interested, they too can learn to samba from a YouTube.
Sunday, August 07, 2016
Home Made
An acquaintance recently brought me a big pot of gumbo. My friend is from Louisiana where they make the world's best gumbo. When I suggested she could make some real money selling her gumbo to local catering services, she laughed and told me her Mother's gumbo is even better than hers. I encouraged to think about it seriously as a side line to her regular accounting work.
I told her about Mom's success at selling something home made. It had come about quite by accident. Mom had b baked a pie for someone. A day or so later, a woman, who had eaten a slice of the pie, came to Mom and asked her to bake one for her. The woman was giving a special dinner and wanted to serve a pie like the one she had eaten and would gladly pay for it. Mom agreed and the woman arranged to pick it up on her way home from work. The next day she phoned Mom and said how everyone raved about the pie and would Mom bake another. Within a couple of days, Mom was taking orders from several of the woman's friends.
Requests for different pies, apple, berry and cream pies began to keep Mom busy in the kitchen and Dad began to help her. It wasn't long before half the morning was used in baking pies. Mom was so pleased to know that people liked her baked pies, and, she liked having the extra spending money. The word spread and orders for Mom's fresh baked pies increased. The hours of baking started earlier and earlier each day and began stretching well into the afternoons.
It wasn't long before baked pies covered the kitchen counters, the dining table and some makeshift counter space, The baking of pies became labor intensive and I stepped in to help. At each days end, after all the pies had been picked up, Mom, Dad and I would heave a sigh of relief and complement each other on how well the day had gone. But, eventually, we began making off-hand remarks to each other that selling pies wasn't as much fun as it had been in the beginning. Mom began having second thoughts about running a pie business, and decided to close up shop, She stopped taking orders.
Before the pie business started, she and Dad had been talking about taking a trip with Aunt Bessie. After closing the pie business, they did take the trip. Mom, Dad and Aunt Bessie drove from California to Florida.
I told her about Mom's success at selling something home made. It had come about quite by accident. Mom had b baked a pie for someone. A day or so later, a woman, who had eaten a slice of the pie, came to Mom and asked her to bake one for her. The woman was giving a special dinner and wanted to serve a pie like the one she had eaten and would gladly pay for it. Mom agreed and the woman arranged to pick it up on her way home from work. The next day she phoned Mom and said how everyone raved about the pie and would Mom bake another. Within a couple of days, Mom was taking orders from several of the woman's friends.
Requests for different pies, apple, berry and cream pies began to keep Mom busy in the kitchen and Dad began to help her. It wasn't long before half the morning was used in baking pies. Mom was so pleased to know that people liked her baked pies, and, she liked having the extra spending money. The word spread and orders for Mom's fresh baked pies increased. The hours of baking started earlier and earlier each day and began stretching well into the afternoons.
It wasn't long before baked pies covered the kitchen counters, the dining table and some makeshift counter space, The baking of pies became labor intensive and I stepped in to help. At each days end, after all the pies had been picked up, Mom, Dad and I would heave a sigh of relief and complement each other on how well the day had gone. But, eventually, we began making off-hand remarks to each other that selling pies wasn't as much fun as it had been in the beginning. Mom began having second thoughts about running a pie business, and decided to close up shop, She stopped taking orders.
Before the pie business started, she and Dad had been talking about taking a trip with Aunt Bessie. After closing the pie business, they did take the trip. Mom, Dad and Aunt Bessie drove from California to Florida.
Thursday, August 04, 2016
Olympics
I'm looking forward to watching various athletic competitions in Rio, and I anticipate a spectacular opening of the games. The traditional torch lighting and the parade of contestants is always exciting. I find some of the sports more interesting than others. Synchronized diving, swimming races and diving contests are my favorites. I like curling, but it seems to take a back seat when more dominate sports take center stage.
Recently PBS showcased the 1936 Olympics in Berlin, Germany. As a child, the only thing I knew about the Olympics was that Jesse Owens won a gold medal which annoyed Hitler, who believed the superiority of Germans would excel. I learned from the PBS program the detailed history of agreements and plans for the games in Berlin, including the proposed agreement that Jews would be prevented from participating. Eventually, after threatening to cancel the games, Hitler allowed one, a German woman to be part of the German fencing team.
Hitler used the games politically to foster his ideology of German superiority. The stadium was the largest ever built for the games and the opening ceremonies more spectacular than those of previous games. Ever since the 1936 games, each host country has emulated Hitler by building bigger and better facilities, and presenting grander openings; each succeeding one more awesome than the last.
Recently PBS showcased the 1936 Olympics in Berlin, Germany. As a child, the only thing I knew about the Olympics was that Jesse Owens won a gold medal which annoyed Hitler, who believed the superiority of Germans would excel. I learned from the PBS program the detailed history of agreements and plans for the games in Berlin, including the proposed agreement that Jews would be prevented from participating. Eventually, after threatening to cancel the games, Hitler allowed one, a German woman to be part of the German fencing team.
Hitler used the games politically to foster his ideology of German superiority. The stadium was the largest ever built for the games and the opening ceremonies more spectacular than those of previous games. Ever since the 1936 games, each host country has emulated Hitler by building bigger and better facilities, and presenting grander openings; each succeeding one more awesome than the last.
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