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9
Jul 10

Delicious musty books start the weekend

I found an estate sale on Craigslist and, opening what will exciting chapter in our relationship, drug The Yankee to see it this morning. The ad was curious. After a few reads you couldn’t decide if it was a preview showing before an estate sale or the sale itself. They promised furniture though, which we do not need, and books, which we love. Thousands of books. And they were all going for a buck.

Having only gotten lost twice getting there — both being my fault — we discovered the sale in progress. There were a few furniture and rusted items for sale, but an entire garage and basement full of books. This personal library was even organized by genre, covering shelves, windowsills, a pool table and every other flat surface.

There was a small army of people pouring over the books. I picked up snippets of conversation about the likes of different customers, what used to be on the shelves and the constant search for boxes. A few women were picking up books by the handful and needed something to keep them all together. A kid was driving a remote controlled tank thing. There was some sort of camera or sensor on the vehicle, and he had the viewscreen, so he could drive from another room. I’m not sure if it was for sale.

I picked up all of the books now running across the top of the blog. First I found a book I’d normally not have any interest in, but I flipped through a few pages and thought “For a buck …”

Heart Songs was compiled at the turn of the 20th Century by Mitchell Chapple, supposedly taking the suggestions of 20,000 people for the music that defined them. This book, then, with its deep red cover and gilt, is a a piece of culture, a moment of history that captured the musical spirit of people from all over the country and wide swaths of the world. There are hymns, patriotic songs, childrens songs, operas, love tunes and more.

The foreword, written in Boston in 1909 as the book was published, is itself a thing of beauty:

Songs that have entertained thousands from childhood to the grave and have voiced the pleasure and pain, the love and longing, the despair and delight, the sorrow and resignation, and the consolation of the plain people — who found in these an utterance for emotions which they felt but could not express — came in by the thousands. The yellow sheets of music bear evidence of constant use; in times of war and peace, victory and defeat, good and evil fortune, these sweet strains have blended with the coarser thread of human life and offered to the joyful or saddened soul a suggestion of uplift, sympathy and hope.

The sheet music is occasionally interrupted by pictures of once famous singers like Jenny Lind and Adelina Patti.  The foreword also mentions, but unfortunately does not include, the many stories of how these songs had impacted the contributors. If they made this book today surely they would include some snippets of the better stories. That would add a lot, but there’s already an incredible wealth inside the cover. (And I’m not remotely a music historian.)

Then I found an 1897 Biblische Geschichte, a German bible. I can’t read it, beyond the cognates and the smallest set of words, but the pictures all make sense. Fortunately I know someone that can read it.

You're getting a book next week!

You're getting a book next week!

So I’ll send it to my Elisabeth. She can tell me if the stories inside are any different.

I also picked up a copy of R.A.C. Parker’s Europe 1919-1945, so we can learn all about the uneasy peace, turmoil and war from the British perspective. Parker was a Churchill fan, and Old Labour. This was a Delacorte volume, the seventh in a series of 35 meant to cover the history of mankind.

They couldn’t get that in 30 books?

I won’t collect the entire set, I promise.

Picked up Allen Drury’s A Senate Journal: 1943-1945. Drury was a military veteran turned United Press journalist. This book earned fame after he won a Pulitzer for fiction for Advise and Consent. After that, this journal was published. My copy, a first edition, made its way into the local library and ultimately, into my hands today.

I also found Rickenbacker: An Autobiography. Race car driver, pilot, ace, war hero, Medal of Honor winner, businessman and more, Eddie Rickenbacker is one of the great American icons of the first half of the 20th Century. He died quietly, almost forgotten in 1973. My history professor, the great W. David Lewis (1931-2007) of Auburn University, talked glowingly of Rickenbacker. He researched, for 15 years, his hero — including during the year or so I took his classes — and his book, came out in 2005.

Lewis was a character, full of life and passion for his varied interests. He was a renowned professor of the history of technology, loved cathedrals, pipe organs and, of course, aviation. I saw the autobiography, thought of Dr. Lewis and picked it up. On of these days I’ll pick up my professor’s book; I have to after reading these reviews.

I also met a man last December who worked for Rickenbacker at Eastern Air Lines. He told a story of having a real bad flight, being worked up about and then giving Rickenbacker, the president, an earful … only he didn’t realize who he was talking to. Rickenbacker nearly died in a plane crash in 1941 (dented skull, head injuries, shattered left elbow and crushed nerve, paralyzed left hand, broken ribs,  crushed hip socket, twice-broken pelvis, severed nerve in his left hip, broken knee and an eyeball expelled from the socket) and was adrift in the Pacific, dangerously close to the Japanese, for 24 days in 1942. Rickenbacker won his Medal of Honor for attacking, on his own, seven German planes, shooting down two in 1918. He also won seven Distinguished Service Crosses. Eddie Rickenbacker knew a few things about having a tough day (His book begins, “My life has been filled with adventures that brought me face to face with death.”) so he let the indiscretion slide.

I bought all of those for a buck each. Lugged them outside to meet the nice lady who was collecting the money. She said that the notes inside each book were just notes for her — where the book had been picked up, when and for how much. That six volume set of books I was also considering wasn’t really 60 dollars.

So I went back inside.

Canadian historian Edgar McInnis’ The War volumes will make a nice bookend to Churchill’s six volumes also in my library. McInnis, as you might notice above, breaks the story down by years. The first volume begins “With the outbreak of the war, many Americans set themselves deliberately not to believe most of what they read or were told about.” McInnis worked on this project during the war, and published all six installments in 1946. The sixth volume ends:

Success would lay the foundation for an era of human well-being unparalleled in history. But unless wisdom triumphed over the forces of greed and ambition and fear, the world might find that it had thrown away its last chance of salvation which it had bought at such a terrible price.

Imagine what all lies between those three sentences.

So that, in a rather large nutshell, is my 11 books for 11 bucks today.

Visited campus for a few minutes to meet with a colleague who needed some equipment. Wrote a letter while I was there. The Yankee and I then went to the bookstore. She was searching for something and I was just along for the ride. And then she took me to Ann Taylor. I surfed the Internet on my phone while she browsed.

We visited with friends as is our Friday afternoon custom, hanging out with Brian’s family and some delightful visiting in-laws, and Andre Natta. Most of us went out for Pie Day after that.

Clinkies!

Clinkies!

Brought home leftovers, starting the weekend in style! How’s yours shaping up?


8
Jul 10

Things that go bump in the air conditioning

At 4 a.m. you can have the most delusional thoughts.

Why is there a burglar in my shower?

There was a mild clattering. Soon after there was a tremendous crash. I swept the house, upstairs and down, laundry and closets. Everything was where it should be. No one was where they shouldn’t be. Finally we found the scene of the chaos: the shower.

We have this spring-loaded, corner shelf contraption. It is one of the devices upon which The Yankee places her dozens of shower care products. Somehow, perhaps because of the weight and strain, the thing decided to give way early this morning. The spring-loaded corner shelf contraption was resting at a diagonal position across the shower. The many plastic bottles and accoutrements were scattered about.

I’d forgotten just how scattered until later in the day when I returned for a shower. (No way was that getting cleaned up at 4 a.m.) This stuff has mystified me for a year. There are gels and soaps and rubs and bastes for every occasion. I’ve never bothered to count them, but noted today there were more than 15 separate items.

That’s just the liquid-based items.

Hot, hot, hot

Hot, hot, hot

I’ve almost stopped noticing. Three hours later the thermometer — and, sure, it is in a car, and runs a few degrees warm — had dropped only two degrees. That was after the workout. I pedaled 30 miles this evening. Started with a cramp in the calf, but all went well. Had a nice, even rhythm and just pushed on through.

Outsmarted myself, though. To nurse a blister I altered my stride and managed to mangle my foot. That wasn’t a sore, stiff, agitated muscle type thing. It was a crunchy metatarsal thing. It was an “evaluate each step to determine if it necessary thing.”

I used ice. Couldn’t tell you the last time I did that.

There’s an evening display of thunder. No rain, but an impressive soundtrack nonetheless. We haven’t had rain for a little over a week and are right at our average for this point of the year. Some parts of the state are thinking of beating the rush and starting a drought.

The almost sounds like an apology for the heat, but we know better. That’s why we’re staying in the shade. The official high today was in the 90s. The record for this day in history is 105, back in 1930 and they didn’t even have global warming back then. I’m betting, in the deep south in 1930 they’d have enjoyed a bit of air conditioning, contra Stan Cox‘s argument that that infernal air conditioner is costing us politically, ecologically and medically.

You can guess which ones are the most important for Cox, who says air conditioning made possible all those hasty elections in the 1990s and 2000s that he regrets. “It’s pretty much unanimously believed that if we had not had air conditioning, we could not have had this huge migration of population from the North to the Sun Belt.”

If only Willis Carrier, a New Yorker, knew what he was doing when he invented modern air conditioning in the first half of the 20th Century.

Science, Cox babbles on, urges you to “recognize that a lot of the health problems that we need A.C. to solve, it may have contributed to in the first place. We need to look at the conditions under which people die in heat waves, the harsh life conditions that they’re enduring more generally.”

That logical leap of faith hurts to think about, but some 70,ooo Europeans can’t disagree, their deaths in 2003 being one of those health problems that a modern convenience might have prevented. But air conditioning probably created the problem. Indeed, he says that some that is obvious has happened. In his next sentence he is uncertain if it happened. He could be confused by the heat.

Incidentally, Cox says he stays cool by turning on electric fans, still consuming power and scrubbing his property against the mold, or he would if he lived with all those silly, light-headed Southerners who seem to vote the wrong way.

How can this be fixed?

I think that we need to be changing a lot of the features of our society that have helped make us dependent on air conditioning in the first place.

Change! We’re going to add extra sweat glands to everyone!

In the end, someone will have to put some very hard limits on energy consumption and emissions overall.

If there isn’t already an HVAC lobby in D.C. they’re getting organized right now. We can only hope that someone doesn’t regulate sweat. Someone else must do it, though. One mustn’t do it themselves. One can’t trust another to do it for themselves. Someone else must get the job done.

Has a czar been appointed yet?

However the truth is, people could give up refrigerators or stoves or drive 9,000 miles less a year or stop using electric lighting, but none of those things would cut emissions as much as eliminating air conditioning.

So what we’re doing here is to present some unpalatable alternatives. And when readers think “refrigeration, cooking, car, lights” then they’ll make the self sacrifice of air, which is better for our health, to say nothing of those pesky politics.

I have a theory…

Stan Cox, science writer (an author railing against most everything in your life) has a theory. Well, it isn’t really a theory, but it is just easier to say that word, because some of the air conditioned folk have probably heard of the word and think it “sciencey.” What he has, though, is not a theory. Whatever it is, I hope he shares it with us!

(T)hat if we could require Congress to meet two days per week during the summer session out under a canopy on the Capitol lawn …

Less Congress? This could happen. That would be good. None of those people would want to suffer through those conditions. After all, Washington D.C. was a city people fled in the summers. And they were doing that generations before the advent of that inconveniently conditioned air which made everyone soft.

(T)hey might want to deal with ecological reality a little more straightforwardly than when they are sitting in the air-conditioned rooms inside.

Because, you see, reality under a tarp in the middle of the district in July is different than what’s going on for those good people’s districts, in terms of, oh, I dunno, politics, ecology, medicine and the economy. Cox is from Salina, Kansas. It gets hot there. Our sweaty Congress is presently headed by Nancy Pelosi, of San Francisco where it is in the mid-60s right now (so what’s the big deal?) and Harry Reid, who’s from the desert.

And heaven knows you won’t be able to get any traction from those Southern members. They started this problem anyway.

You know why the dinosaurs died? Climate change. They didn’t have heaters.

Just saying.

See you on: Tumblr for random things that don’t belong elsewhere — seven images from Rome added just today! And on Twitter — wry observations daily!


5
Jul 10

Five Fourths

Happy Fourth of July!

Happy Fourth of July!

We’ve done this for five years now: ribs at Dreamland, fireworks over the city, this picture.


4
Jul 10

Happy Fourth of July

Thunder Over the Mountain, launched from Vulcan Park.

Thunder Over the Mountain, launched from Vulcan Park.

Vulcan stands on top of Red Mountain (we’re in the city, down in the valley). His pedestal is 123 feet tall. Vulcan himself measures 56 feet, the largest cast iron statue in the world. We’re about a mile away here.

Last-minute donations made up for a $20,000 shortfall that threatened to scale back this year’s show. The entire show costs $40,000 for 20 minutes of pyrotechnics. Vulcan Park was going to ask the city for a substantial portion of the shortfall, but removed the request when city employees, facing pay cuts, complained.

The show has run for 10 years now, preceded by SkyConcert, which ran for 16 years. It is the largest fireworks show in the state and is seen by all the neighboring cities.

More photos here.


20
Jun 10

One year ago today …

One year ago today.

One year ago today.

We began our greatest adventure. And it has been a year of great change, joy, loss, happiness, laughter, growth, busy schedules, a graduation, a few hospital visits, warm hugs, travels, trials and triumphs.

And I have a wonderful companion with whom to experience all of those things and more.