Author: gr4c5

I write. I read. I cook. I run. That's me, in a nutshell.

Red Badge of Courage

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Red Badge of CourageCrane, Stephen. Red Badge of Courage. New York: Signet, 1960.

I have heard complaints about Red Badge (language is archaic, plot is meaningless, etc) and while all those points are valid, they don’t take away from the fact that for a person who never saw a day of combat in life Crane does an excellent job portraying a young soldier in battle. I would imagine that anyone facing death would wrestle with the choice to be brave (“heroic” or “patriotic”) or be a coward. To stay and fight or take flight…especially after encountering death up close.
To say that Red Badge of Courage is about a young man in combat during the Civil War sells the story short. Henry is a young man facing many things for the first time in his life and throughout battle he struggles with all of it. It’s a historical snapshot of the psychology of war. It goes beyond whether Henry can be brave or not. Whether he is a true soldier or not.

I haven’t read Red Badge of Courage since high school but the one scene that has always stuck in my mind is when Henry comes across the dead soldier in the woods. I will always picture the blue uniform faded to a shade of green and the ants. The ants crawling on the dead man’s lip. It’s a powerful scene. The other moment I always remember is when Henry longs to be one of the wounded so that he may have his “red badge of courage” too.

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust in the “Civil War Fiction” chapter (p 57).

Best Girlfriends Getaways

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Bond, Marybeth. Best Girlfriends Getaways Worldwide. Washington, DC: National Geographic, 2008.

I am thrilled I got this book to review. Not because I plan to jet off to Africa next week (because I’m not), and not because I even remotely consider myself a worldly traveler (definitely not), but because this book allowed me to imagine the possibilities. Written in such a style that seem to say go for it! Written in such a way that I started imagining some of my best female friends on such adventures with me. All of the information zeros in on what women would find interesting and worthwhile without making it seem too Sex in the City and cliche.
If I were to complain about any one aspect of Best Girlfriends it would be the organization of information. While I loved having such chapters as “Cosmopolitan Cities” (p 39) and “Floating Fantasies” (p 191) I would have loved all things France in one chapter, all things Spain in another. It’s one of those chicken-egg questions. Which comes first when it comes to travel, the location or the activity? I don’t know many people who chose their garden walk (p 211) before the country they would travel to.
Probably the best feature to Best Girlfriends is the wealth of information. Each chapter is organized into where to eat, where to stay, how to get there, points of interest, how to prepare for the trip, even events to fly in for. So much information on every page and not just about the destination, either. Tips on what to pack, how to stay safe, different aromatherapy oils, best luggage options, to name a few.
In addition to having interesting chapters Bond includes great first hand accounts of other women and their travels. Those stories were what really got me thinking about a trip with my mother, my oldest friend. The only information I would not heed is prices. What Bond quotes today might be completely different tomorrow. It is in her best interest to leave that information out and let the travelers research that when it’s time to get away.

Educating Esme

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Educating EsmeCodell, Esme Raji. Educating Esme:  Diary oi a Teacher’s First Year. Chapel Hill: Algonquin Books, 1999.

Word to the wise: if you want to celebrate education month and you need something really quick to read, grab Educating Esme. Barely 200 pages it’s an entertaining, fast and funny book. This one interested me on so many different levels. For starters, at one time I thought I might be a teacher – even declared Education as my major for a while (until I found out that you never have time to read anything, you just pretend you do). It also interested me because I know two different people who have gone through that “first year” of teaching. They had completely different experiences and I wanted to compare notes.

What went on LibraryThing:
Educating Esme: Diary of a Teacher’s First Year  is smart and funny. It’s a journey inside the mind of a young, fresh-minded educator hell bent on doing things her way. Her lessons and style of teaching are engaging. They allow students to be themselves and in the process learn something.  The students are not bribed or cajoled into lesson plans. Codell disguises education in a safe, fun environment. This is not to say she doesn’t have her share of problems. Chicago has it’s gang culture, it’s broken homes, it’s drug addled families; not to mention a difficult hierarchy within the school system. Codell encounters it all with grace and strength.

Funny quotes: “The way they sassed patrons they didn’t like. The way they seemed to know too much. A little like librarians” (p 62). You would think this quote would somehow offend me on some level…especially considering the fact Esme is describing prostitutes! LOL
“What sort of Jedi would I be if I don’t really face the Dark Side? Mr. Turner may be Vader, but is there an enemy that remains to be revealed , like that bossy old wrinkled guy who told Vader what to do?” (p 112).

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust in the chapter “Teachers and Teaching Tales” (p 230). I love how Pearl calls Codell “relatively” hip (p 231).

Spider Woman?

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Spider

A month ago I developed a weird spot on my thigh. A nursing student took one look and said basal cell carcinoma. Freak Me. For a month I held denial’s hand and didn’t do anything about it. Nothing except stare at the spot and watch it mutate. I didn’t WebMD it, didn’t do anything. This river in Egypt ran deep. Finally I went to someone a little more professional. Someone with an actual degree and not just in training for one. She took one look and said arachnid. Whaa? Come again? Bug bite, possibly spider-ish. Maybe tick-ish. Either way I’m having a reaction to the saliva. I’m allergic to bug spit of all things.

Whatever. All I know is that Friday (after the bug appointment) I decided to hit the Gerbil cage. 45 minutes. 4.26 miles. Felt freakin’ great. My new tempo pace is 10.2. I can sing while moving that speed. Love it. Then, last night I decided to hit it again. Chicken thighs were in the smoker getting happy with the alder chips (can’t call it smoked chicken chili without the chips…) and I had the time for a sweet 20 minute run. At first I wanted to really kick it. See if I could get more than two miles in. But, my knee gently reminded me it hadn’t even been 24 hours since the 4.26…I’m supposed to “take a day” between runs, remember? Oh yeah. So, I decided to crank the incline and work on hills. Run slow…but UP-up-UP. Bottom line: 1.8 miles in 20 minutes. I’m happy with my energy. I’m in love with my knee. I’m feeling better than ever. Could it be the spider spit? Just call me spider woman!

More On this Later

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Just a Girl MARK YOUR CALENDARS! Rebecca Correia is coming back to New England!

For those of you who know Rebecca:
She is moving home for the summer! For those of you who know ME that means I get to swing back into promotion action. YAY! I have missed being the rabid fan. 8)

For those of you who don’t know Rebecca:
Please, please, please check her out! Here’s a website to get you started. Her “site” song is one she wrote while still in high school. “Miss You” is one of my favorites and “Quiet Hands” was the First Dance song at my wedding. This entire Miss You album is amazing.

For EVERYONE: Mark your calendars. June 1st. Simsbury, CT. Rebecca will be performing. Yeah, yeah. It’s a Sunday but I think she goes on early. I don’t have all the information….so stay tuned. Here’s a preliminary promise. If you show AND *stay for Rebecca’s whole show* I’ll buy you a drink. I kid you not. Rebecca mentioned something about a $2 cover, but the last time I heard anyone worry about $2 was in Better Off Dead. Hope you’re not that guy.

To the usual suspects: we should do dinner. Please say you will.

xoxoxo

Glad You Think It’s So Funny

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pukeI had another one of those failed restaurant meet-ups a few weeks ago. I was supposed to meet someone for dinner. He thought 7:30pm. I thought 5:30pm. I sat there wondering if he was waiting outside while I was inside doing the exact same thing. Toying with my wine glass, fiddling with the silverware, smoothing the tablecloth with my fingertips, reading the menu until I had it memorized, staring at the artwork on the walls. I’m sure the waiters thought I either had a kidney problem or I was having an affair as they filled my water glass for the eighth time. My friend never came. Until 7:30pm

This week we were able to connect and I’m almost wishing we hadn’t. Before me sat a BBQ burger with BrianFries and crunchy pickles. I was ready to dig in. Before I could take a single bite my friend eyed me and asked the WhatsNewQ. I knew I should have started eating first. After I told him my latest he threw his head back and laughed. Laughed and laughed. Laughed so loud other diners turned with curious looks. Laughed and laughed until he was crying. When he was finally finished and had swallowed the last chuckle he managed to ask, “how in God’s name do you get yourself into these messes?” A tear hung in the corner of his eye and a giggle escaped. I could feel another bout of uncontrolable laughter coming my way. Through gritted teeth I admitted I had no idea. And added it wasn’t funny. Burger aside I had to explain. Or at least try to. My life is one big soap opera minus the orphaned surgeon who never knew he was sleeping with his sister and actually died 3 episodes ago but still managed to seduce the bull fighter’s CIA wife in Africa last week. When I said I was done with drama I should have said I’d like to be done with drama. I’m dreaming if I think I can ever fully escape it.
I never did finish the burger…or even touch the fries.

Boy Bomb

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I’ve got this guy close to my heart. I think he reads me but then again, I’m not really sure. Maybe not. He’s a road warrior. Hardcore. If he does read me, that’s cool because I want to thank him for being so freakin’ cool. Okay. That was cryptic. I DO mean “read me” on a couple of levels. One maybe more than another.
Yeah. I can hear some of you now. Yes, I’m a married woman. So be it. But, I have this friend. I’ll call him Joe. We’ve had 22 years of something. Friends, lovers, roommates, coworkers, enemies, siblings, classmates, partners, pen pals. I’ve read to him. He’s drawn me. Been there. Done that. I think we have been just about everything to each other at one time or another. I guess I could say we have ultimately ended up where we started. Full circle friends. Only this time he’s not hiding more than several cans of beer in a multi-pocketed jean jacket and I’m not climbing out back windows at 3am. Friends of another era. Kisa’s cool with that. I’m cool with that. It’s not that complicated. It’s cool because I’ve grown to hate complicated.

I go through stages where I miss the snot out of Joe. Then, he’ll call. As if he knows. He gets me laughing. Gets me crying. I want to tell him everything crazy, but his phone crackles and we lose connection. He’ll call back but only to say see ya. Next time. Later, baby. On the road again. And again. My favorite question is not Can you hear me now, but Where are you now? He just laughs. My brilliant boy bomb.

Here’s what I meant to say to him: Boompa: thanks for Arizona. If I could get the darn pic off my phone I’d post it here. I’ll think dream about Zion. I’ve always trusted your travel sense. Congrats on the camp. It’s where you belong. You’re good at everything Weld and you know it. I’ve got issues but we’ll talk about those another time….when you’re within calling range. You know you owe me, myself & moi lunch. 

Oh, and one more thing, don’t pick on the girls too much. We bite. Really.

May is…

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May is one of my favorite months. I love the one month of lilacs. I love the urgency of spring in the air. Days are warm but nights stay cool. Plus, there is Mother’s Day for all those mums out there.
Here is how I am going to celebrate May (besides trying to quell the homesickness):

  • Mother’s Day: Reading: True Confessions by Mary Bringle. Personally: Taking my two favorite mothers to see Natalie Merchant at the end of the month.
  • Merle Miller’s birthday: Plain Speaking by Merle Miller – which is really funny because this is about Truman and his birthday is in May, too…a-n-d…I just finished reading about Roosevelt.
  • National Education Month: Reading: Educating Esme by Esme Raji Codell (nonfiction). Personally: taking my staff out for a Middle Eastern lunch.
  • National Music Month:Reading: Ground Beneath Her Feet by Salman Rushdie (The big question is will I be able to get it out of my head that he did a little acting in that “Bridget Jones” movie?). Personally: I’d like to see Sean Rowe this month. Sirsy would be on the list but their closest show is on a Monday night. Boston Symphony Orchestra is probably the classiest way to celebrate National Music Month, don’t you think?

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And if there is time:

  • Best time to visit Russia: Murder on the Leviathan by Boris Akunin
  • National History month: Dreamland by Kevin Baker

I have one Librarything early review book: TBA (which means they told me I’m getting one but I haven’t got it yet…if that makes sense.)

 

April Was…

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April was…April was definitely not one of my better months. Car crashes that stuck in the crevices of my psyche, accusations of disloyalty, heart breaking breakups. More ends than beginnings. For everyone, me included. It was a month of surviving. Here are just a few things that kept my head above water: amazing pictures from Arizona, amazingly great friends, amazingly crazy good Indian food, the run that gets better and better..and these books.

Finished for BookLust:

  • Road from Coorain by Jill Ker-Conway (in honor of the best time to visit Australia)
  • Ginger Pye by Eleanor Estes (National  Librarian Week & National Dog Month)
  • Deep in the Green: An Exporation of Country Pleasures by Anne Raver (National Gardening Month)
  • Apologizing to Dogs by Joe Coomer (National Dog Month)
  • Gain by Richard Powers (Earth Day)
  • Case for Three Detectives by Leo Bruce (National Humor Month)

Finished for LibraryThing:

  • Imagine Me and You by Billy Mernit
  • Franklin and Lucy: President Roosevelt, Mrs. Rutherfurd, and the Other Remarkable Women in His Life by Joseph E. Persico (Great timing! RE: Cover of “Newsweek”

And a total of 17 poems.
BookLust books NOT on the list:

  • Love, Loss, and What I Wore by Ilene Beckerman (in honor of National Fashion Month !!?)
  • Language of the Land edited by Martha Hopkins & Michael Buscher (Taxes = Government doc.)
  • Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane (start of the Civil War)

I knew  I did a lot of reading during that CrAzY month!

Language of the Land

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Hopkins, Martha and Michael Buscher. Language of the Land: The Library of Congress Book of Literary Maps. Washington: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1998.

This is a weird choice for the final book of April. I wanted to read something that represented tax time and that dreaded 4/15. Nancy didn’t include a whole lot of books on taxes in either Book Lust or More Book Lust so I decided to lump in government documents and publications as representation…It makes some sense, right?

Anyway, this book is really, really cool. I urge you to take a look at it for yourself. If you have ever seen Manguel’s The Dictionary of Imaginary Places you will get the gist of Language of the Land. I have to admit I’m a sucker for these kinds of things. To say that it is a collection of maps with the basis being about literature doesn’t really explain a whole lot. Here are some better examples (and some of my favorite “maps”): there are several Arthur Conan Doyle maps. One map shows the location of all the fictional places mentioned in the Sherlock Holmes mysteries. Another is the “Sherlock Holmes Mystery Map” (p 207) which allows SH fans to follow the famous detective’s footprints through different stories. Of course, the Odyssey has a few maps depicting the travels of Odysseus. Page 60 has a pictorial map of English literature while on page 70 shows the Beat Generation map. Every state has a map of famous authors. Of course I had to scrutinize Maine to see if they included Monhegan as a place and Stephen King as an author (they did). Then, I had to find the fictional places Robin Hood’s Sherwood Forest and Peter Pan’s Neverland. You would have to be a James Bond fan to know the significance of items in Ian Fleming’s “The Ian Fleming Thriller Map” (p 176) like the centipede in Bond’s glass or the Roman Numeral III tattooed on a blond girl’s arm. Most of the maps are in black and white although a handful are also represented in color. The Literary Map of Latin America (p 162) is beyond cool. So is The Call of The Wild by Jack London map (p 177).

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust in the chapter “Your Tax Dollars at Work: Good Reading From the Government (Really!)” (p 239). Pearl is serious. Language of the Land is great!

Music to Fly By

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As promised. Here is the setlist to Run For Darfur. As you probably can tell, I was hoping for the very angry woman run. It didn’t quite turn out that way. Madness was replaced by magic.

  1. KT Tunstall ~ Suddenly I See. I chose this as the first song because it reminds me of someone.
  2. Maroon 5 ~ Wake Up Call. Because I got my wake up call. Relates back to suddenly being able to see…
  3. Carrie Underwood ~ Before He Cheats. No reason. Just a damn funny song about an angry gal.
  4. Avril Lavign ~ Girlfriend. Because she can be a pain in the azz.
  5. Rob Thomas ~ This is How a Heart Breaks. My first training song, way back when. “Make the most out of life…” Don’t I ever!
  6. Mickey Hart ~ Baba. Kisa’s special song. This is what kicked me in the pants. Spiritual.
  7. Nickelback ~ Rockstar. Another funny song.
  8. Finger Eleven ~ Paralyzer.
  9. Matchbox20 ~ Disease.
  10. Lady Sovereign ~ Love me, Hate Me.

These are not completely in the right order because I forgot to turn off the shuffle function. It’s not that I had them in any particular order. Funny thing was, it was perfect just the way it came up. I didn’t get to hear all of Nickelback and I never got to Lady Sovereign at all. It’s ironic because I was specific about LS and why I wanted all those “fukc yous” at the end. Turns out, I didn’t need them. At all.

So, there you have it. BEB, thanks for setting the fire. I love you.

Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

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Black Cat Red House

Eliot, T.S. “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.” The Oxford Book of American Poetry. Ed. David Lehman. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006. 343.

Who hasn’t read this in high school or at least college at least once? I can remember combing through line after line like primates looking for bugs. We scrutinized each word asking ourselves and each other what it all meant. Half the time we wanted to make stuff up because we just didn’t get it. Even today, there is so much to this poem that I have a hard time sorting it all out. Here are some of the ideas I have (and I would love it if someone could tell me how far off (or on) I really am). Okay, so the first idea is a comparison to Dante’s Inferno, and the whole idea of deciding who you really are. The second idea is a rant about aging, or society, or time, or relationships…or all of the above. I do know that it’s a monologue; someone talking to his or her “me, myself and moi”; or in my world, someone just having a good rant. Any takers on this theory?

Here is my favorite imagery: the cat. Of course. I love, love, love T.S. Eliot’s imagery when he decribes the yellow smoke as a cat, “…rubs its back upon the window-panes…licked its tongue into the corners of the evening…curled once about the house, and fell asleep.” It’s brilliant.

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust  in the chapter “Poetry Pleasers” (p 188). Are you sick of me saying that yet?

Celestial Music

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Gluck, Louise. “Celestial Music.” The Oxford Book of American Poetry. Ed. by David Lehman. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006. 991.

I want to call this ‘Friends Argue then Agree to Disagree.’ For it is about (I think), two people seeing life differently. While they focus on the subject of religion (one believes in God, the other doesn’t), it is a metaphor for how each of them sees life as a whole – living, dying, coping with everything in between. It’s poignant. As the two friends walk they come across a dying catapillar. One friend can hardly stand to watch it fall victim to a swarm of ants while the other can. In the end, they know they are both right. As they should be.

My favorite line, “The love of form is a love of endings.”

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lustin the chapter “Poetry Pleasers” (p 189).

Most Ridiculous

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wtfI’m calling the Darfur run “most ridiculous” for several reason. Where do I begin? First no sleep the night before. Tossed and turned in an unfamiliar bed, listened to drunks outside the window at 2am, worried about cracking my head on the nightstand, missed kisa…

The next morning checking in was odd. Confused by the box of cookies for sure….

But, here’s where it gets really ridiculous. Initially I was scared to run. I won’t lie. I wasn’t feeling up to it. A friend hadn’t shown, I kept thinking about the last time I tried to run anywhere (and failed), and I was dead tired. Suddenly, everything didn’t seem important enough. I didn’t feel important at all.
Then, the race began. Uphill. Within a few minutes I lost focus on the race and lost myself in a cemetery of souls. I will say this a million times to anyone who will listen. This was the most beautiful race of my life. From just a few minutes into it, I forgot I was running. The course was beyond spiritual. Beyond gorgeous. Beyond meaning. If I wasn’t staring at graves or flowers or water I was gazing up at some of the oldest trees I have ever seen. We went up crazy, slippery, gravel hills but I didn’t see them. We went down crazy pounding hills but I didn’t feel them. Instead, I craned my neck to read tombstones, did the math on who died when. How old? At times I would turn around and run sideways, even backwards to look one last time at someones angel in stone. From Amalia on I was lost in names. My husband’s secret track was all drums and I started to cry. Darfur’s genocide, the friend that didn’t show, these graves, and the trees that seem to live forever. The impact of everything finally overtook me.
Towards the end of the race a man yelled to me, “sprint it, baby!” and suddenly I was brought back to the race. Back to reality. Sprint it? What do you mean, ‘sprint it’? Where am I? How much more of the course is there? I honestly had no idea how far I had come or what was left. Suddenly I recognized the pavilion where we checked in, the gazebo right before the finish line, the flags for the end. I remembered I was in a race and the urge to really run kicked it (it meaning me…in the azz  🙂 ). I sprinted the last 30 seconds.

27:49. I’m irritated with myself. This is my best time ever, but I didn’t even try. I can tell. No red face. No coughing uncontrollably. No cramps. As far as running goes I didn’t give anything. I was too busy gawking at people’s final resting places. I was too busy communicating with trees. I was too busy remembering the dead. Darfur’s dead.
To Darfur, I gave everything.

Scammed By Schenectady

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course mapFor weeks now I have been trying to find more information on the upcoming run. Okay, I admit it. I really wanted to check out the course and scope out the hills. Yes, I’m afraid of hills. If you have knee problems then you know what going d-o-w-n hills can feel like. But, as time went on and I wasn’t finding the slightest bit of information I began to think I was being scammed. I actually started to believe I sent money in to a race/charity that didn’t exist. Despite claims that the run was sponsored by Amnesty International I couldn’t find anything on their site supporting that. I kept finding the same website that brought me to the run in the first place.

Then, just last night – two days before I am to make the trip to NY – I get a packet of information. Scammed by Schenectady not. Directions, check-in times, and that all-important course map. Of course, hills aren’t marked but at least now I know where I’m going. At first glance I thought we would be running through a cemetery. How cool would that be! I pictured Vale souls cheering me on from beyond the grave. I love the idea of ghosts and spirits by my side. I already have an angel and a few demons, why not have a whole party?

So, now my mind is at peace. I’m not thinking the worst of this run. Instead, I’m using it to free me from the crap that haunts me, the sh!t I need to leave behind. I’ll have Daoud Hari’s courage and determination to make me strong.
And just in case that doesn’t work I’m using music from BB’s Gasparilla run to kick my azz. Forget the African beat (for now). Setlist to follow…