Not-So-Rave Reviews

Matchless: A Christmas Story by Gregory Macguire

Every year, NPR asks a writer to compose an original story with a Christmas theme. In 2008, Gregory Maguire reinvented the Hans Christian Andersen classic "The Little Match Girl" for a new time and new audiences.

An easy, fast and mostly forgettable retelling of a fairy tale.  Made for an interesting evening read, but wish I hadn't spent money on it.

The Christmas Blizzard by Garrison Keillor

Snow is falling all across the Midwest as James Sparrow, a country- bumpkin-turned-energy-drink-tycoon, and his wife awaken in their sky- rise apartment overlooking Chicago. Even down with the stomach bug, Mrs. Sparrow yearns to see The Nutcracker,  while James yearns only to escape-the faux-cheer, the bitter cold, the whole Christmas season. An urgent phone call from his hometown of Looseleaf, North Dakota, sends James into the midst of his lunatic relatives and a historic blizzard. As he hunkers down to weather the storm, the electricity goes out and James is visited by a parade of figures who deliver him an epiphany worthy of the season, just in time to receive Mrs. Sparrow's wonderful Christmas gift. 

Supposed to be allegorical or having "clear parallels to Dickens's A Christmas Carol", but I just found it strange and full of characters I wanted to get away from.  Once again, should have saved the money.  The lesson here: Do not get sucked into buying Christmas books in the grocery store check-out isle.

Son of Stone by Stuart Woods

After an eventful trip to Bel-Air and a reunion with his sophisticated (and very wealthy) former love, Arrington Calder, confirmed bachelor Stone Barrington is looking to stay in New York and cash in on his partnership at Woodman & Weld.  But Arrington has other plans for Stone, and his life is about to take a turn he never imagined...

Totally emotionless.  Three hundred pages of detached recitation on the life of the uber-wealthy and privileged.  Murder, abortion and confrontation with an armed killer don't cause any of the characters to bat an eyelash, much less display an emotion or even have interesting dialog.  It reads as though even the author was indifferent to his characters and what they were experiencing - as long a there was plenty of money and luxury to spread around.  Yale admission, millions of dollars, yachts, cars, multiple homes, servants, business success, passing the bar - all are obtained without a shred of effort and received without a shred of enthusiasm.  Even the teenagers in this book are docile, polite and dispassionate.  

I have enjoyed Mr. Woods' previous books, but perhaps he's become too complacent with his own characters. I gets two stars ("it was ok") rather than one ("didn't like it") out of respect for earlier works and because I can't work up enough emotion about it to dislike it.  It's just - there.

Politics, Religion and Football

Politics and religion - two topics best avoided at dinner parties and business meetings - and two topics I've never discussed much on the blog.  Although I don't hide the fact that I am a long-time registered Republican and a Christian, and am not ashamed of either, I don't make a point of pushing my thoughts and beliefs on my readers, it's just out there - take it or leave it.  I assume that if anyone is offended by my occasional scripture reference or Christmas wish, they will find another blog to read - no hard feelings.  And I maintain that attitude when reading other blogs or Tweets.  There are people I have come to know as fellow librarians, crafters or book lovers and have wonderful conversations with, yet we are worlds apart on political and religious matters.  I simply scroll past posts/tweets that express views with which I disagree.  No hard feelings.

However, in three seperate instances this week, I was not afforded the same courtesy and I gotta say, I'm a little miffed.  No, I'm downright angry.  It started at work last Tuesday, with a co-worker who makes no bones about voicing her opinions.  At this point I've forgotten what started the conversation, but it worked around to her making the statement that her mother is a "die-hard Republican.  Always has been.  She will always vote the party-line, even if she knows they're wrong."  So far, so good - she's just stating her view of the situation, but then she tacked on, "Well, she's not one of those religious right-wing types - she's not one of those people!"  I didn't say anything, but wondered exactly what she meant - does my party affiliation and church membership make me one of "those people"?  I marked it down as annoying, but let it go.

Then, on Friday, the following line came across my Twitter feed:  "The Right Wing is threatening the Girl Scouts with a cookie boycott."  Hmmm . . . hadn't heard about this - so I Googled the news story and discovered that one teenage girl in California had taken issue with a transgender girl being allowed to join Girl Scouts and had, therefore, begun organizing a boycott.  No problem there - whether or not I agree with the teenager (and I'm keeping that to myself) - she is exercising her constitutional right to correct a situation with which she disagrees.  What did strike me a little crosswise was the Tweeter stretching "one girl"l into "The Right Wing".   Most people equate "right wing" with Republican so I took offense at being lumped into this conflict.  I replied to the young lady who, by the way, I have always enjoyed conversing with about books and crafts, that I had read the news report and that she should be careful about such generalizations because they can be unintentionally offensive.  No response.

Later the same day, Bette Midler (yes, the famous singer/actress) Tweeted the following:

There is a whole lot you can say about the Marines, but I never thought we'd be talking about the shame they have showered on the USA.

This was in reference to the story of four marines who urinated on the bodies of Talaban members and were, of course, caught on camera.  This act is atrocious, not to mention a possible war crime for disrespect to the remains of the enemy, but it was done by four marines - four independent individuals - not the entire USMC.  By now, these statements were really beginning to grate, so I responded to the Twitter-world at large:

Getting a little tired of generalizations and stereotyping.  All Christians are not "The Right Wing" and all Marines are not shameful.

Again, no response, but I felt better for having gotten it off my chest.

Then came the instantly famous Focus on the Family commercial broadcast during the Denver Bronco/New England Patriot game last night.  The commercial showed a group of children reciting John 3:16 - that's it, just reciting, not accusing or blaming or having an alter call - just reciting a scripture verse.  The reaction on Twitter was beyond stupefying.  People were up in arms over the audacity of a Christian message being presented on public airwaves.  I lost it!  With all the absolute crap that is shown on television in the name of entertainment, how could anyone, Christian or not, be offended by a child reciting a Bible verse?  After reading a string of responses that were not just antagonistic, but crossed the line to plain ol' nasty, I had had enough.  My response was spread over six Tweets because 140 characters could not possibly contain my anger at "those people" who were insisting my rights were lesser than theirs:

I'm confused.  How could anyone be pissed about the Focus on the Family ad?  If I see an ad for something I don't choose to buy, I don't. But I don't feel the need to respond with name-calling or slanderous comments.  I just don't buy the product.  Should I protest if there is a political ad with which I disagree shown during a program I'm watching?  What happened to inclusion?  So far this week, I've been referred to as one of "those people", ridiculed because an over-reacting teen in California got upset at Girl Scouts, and now told that a Christian organization should not be allowed to purchase TV air time.  And I haven't once tried to convert someone, push my religion on someone, or even mention that I'm a Christian.  I'm incredibly disappointed in the lack of tolerance, and those slinging the mud would be the first to scream intolerance if it were reversed.

In the end, I "unfollowed" three Twitter friends that I had enjoyed, and I'm sad for the loss.  These are women with whom I shared interests and who I called "friend", but friendship has to be mutual.  Apparently, my friendship did not outrank their need to spew hatred, and I'm disappointed.

This blog is a place where I share about the books I'm reading, the craft projects I'm attempting, and the joys and sorrows of daily life and family.  All are welcome here, regardless of what church they attend or what box they check on a ballot.  I will continue to vote for the candidate who shares my ideals, to attend church on Sunday morning, to read and study the Bible, and to occasionally share thoughts on any or all of it right here.  I hope you'll join me, even if you don't agree.

Six Word Saturday

Take a lesson from Robert Frost . . .

. . . who didn't need six words:  "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on."

I intentionally took a few days off during the holidays with good intentions for getting back to regular blogging after January 1.  Well, we all know where good intentions lead . . .

We've had a couple of family crises, one delayed family Christmas, two college students enrolling in three colleges, and a neurotic dog filling our time but things seem to be back on an even keel - although I'm firm in my cynical belief that life is what happens while you're waiting for the other shoe to drop - so I'm spending my weekend cleaning house, reading, catching up with what's waiting on the DVR and in my reader, and blogging.  But there's always the possibility that life will carry me away again, because:

"Any idiot can face a crisis - it's day to day living that wears you out". - Anton Chekhov

Want to play along? All that's necessary to participate is to describe your life (or something in it) in exactly six words.
Then visit Cate at Show My Face to link up with other participants.

Tradition!

In the weeks and months leading up to Christmas, I read much about "traditions".  I took part in the Virtual Advent Tour where participants shared their family traditions.   I continued my grandma's tradition of baking and decorating sugar cookies with the grandchildren.  I listened to many, many traditional carols... But this year, our Christmas celebration was anything but traditional.

Our son, Mitch, works for an eye bank, which means that, when an organ donor dies, he removes the corneas for transplant.  It's actually a great job for a college student with an interest in medicine and none of his mother's squeamishness, but it also means he is frequently "on call".  Obviously, there is a limited window of time for removal and transport, so he has to remain in town and ready to travel.  This year was Mitch's turn to be on call over Christmas weekend, so we took the celebration to him and four of his fraternity brothers who also couldn't go home for Christmas.  

We loaded up food, presents, ornaments, lights, a tree stand, stockings, stocking stuffers and games - not to mention suitcases - and headed to the fraternity house on the morning of Christmas Eve.  We were almost there when - of course - he got called out, but by the time we stopped for more groceries and unloaded everything, he had returned and Amanda had arrived.

Mitch's responsibility for the family gathering was to secure a Christmas tree.  Rather than go the "traditional" route and purchase a tree, he and his friend, Kyle, decided to get all Grizzly Adams and chop one down themselves.  Now, I can't prove it, but I suspicion that their choice of tree was intended to get a reaction from Mom.  The top branches were bent over to fit beneath the 10-foot ceiling (AFTER they cut several feet off the bottom).  What it made up for in height, it lacked in volume.  The branches were thin and widely spaced.  In a moment of resourceful brilliance, they balanced some of the previously removed lower branches in the holes.  Rather than wait for us to arrive with the tree stand, they improvised with some 1"x4" lumber nailed directly to the trunk.  To complete their creation, they decorated with beer cans and empty liquor bottles.  They had no wire hangers so the tips of the branches were inserted directly into the opening of the can/bottle, giving the tree an Edward Scissorhands aura. This was the Charlie Brown tree on steroids.

But I'm the original Christmas Junkie.  No measly, ugly tree can deter me from my appointed Christmas revelry.  We replaced the alcohol adornments with "traditional" lights and Wal-Mart's finest plastic red/silver ornaments.  The light strings helped anchor the non-attached branches, and when we were done it wasn't half bad.

Alumni of the fraternity recently donated new black, leather couches, end tables and a flat-screen tv hung above the fireplace, so we had a nice place to congregate.  The kitchen is large with double ovens, microwaves and refrigerators, so cooking was a breeze.  There were a few housekeeping issues created by twenty men celebrating the end of the semester and then leaving, plus the half-dozen who had been fending for themselves in the kitchen for a week (no cook during holiday break) - but "many hands make light work" as they say (whoever "they" are) and we whipped it into shape quickly.  A fire in the fireplace and we were "home for Christmas".

Work schedules cooperated and left us a nice block of Christmas Eve with just the four of us to exchange gifts, play games and laugh.  For the next two days, the other residents shuffled in an out according to their work schedules (several work nights) and we fed them all, included them in our games, passed out some gifts, and generally tried to give them at least a little piece of a traditional Christmas.  Their genuine gratitude was our gift in return.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about what it means to be "Home For Christmas".  Normally, it doesn't mean sleeping in a hotel, semi-strangers wandering through, or celebrating in a building with no ladies' room.  But, we proved what I wrote before:   "Home, I guess, is wherever the people you love are.  Sometimes, home is not so much a physical place as a feeling - comfort, belonging, contentment."  

Oh, there’s no place like home for the holidays,

For no matter how far away you roam -

When you long for the sunshine of a friendly gaze,

For the holidays - you can’t beat home, sweet home!

Happy New Year

                   

     
     We here at "Just One More Thing..." wish you a Happy New Year full of Blessings...

Beer (from Dave) . . .

and of course . . . books!

My 2011 Top Ten(ish)

There are hundreds of "best of" lists out there to remind you of your favs, or tell you what you missed, so you hardly need my humble list to guide your reading choices.  However, the compilation of the list is practically book-blog law, and it's mostly for my own reference and entertainment, so here goes . . .

This year I broke the list into categories - Best New Books I Read, Honorable Mention New Books I Read, Best Books I Read Published Prior to 2011... (Catchy titles, don't you think?)  And since we're not strictly adhering to the rules, there are eighteen books on my list, rather than ten.  'Cause that's the kind of free-spirited rebel I am!

So, the Oscar goes to . . .

Best New Books: (in no particular order) 

The Weird Sisters by Eleanor Brown

The Peach Keeper by Sarah Addison Allen

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh

11/22/63 by Stephen King (review not written)

Honorable Mention New Books:

The Book of Tomorrow by Cecelia Ahern
Litigators by John Grisham
Before I go to Sleep by S. J. Watson
Maine by J. Courtney Sullivan
Summer Rental by Mary Kay Andrews

The Witches of East End by Melissa de la Cruz

If You Were Here by Jenn Lancaster

A few I really liked that weren't so new:

  

Nanny Diaries by Emma McLaughlin
Still Alice by Lisa Genova  

Shutter Island by Dennis Lehane
Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen

And a Couple of Excellent Rereads:

Soaring Eagle by Stephanie Grace Whitson

Mrs. Arris Goes to Paris by Paul Gallico

Father of the Bride by Edward Streeter

Meet Stanley Banks, a normal fellow who’s about to embark upon a heroic ordeal that will take him and his bank account to the limits of endurance. For, you see, he is the father of the bride…and the wedding circus has just begun.

The basis of the 1949 movie starring Elizabeth Taylor and Spencer Tracy (and the 1991 remake with Steve Martin and Diane Keaton), Edward Streeter’s Father of the Bride is the hilarious novel about a bewildered man who’s tossed from crisis to crisis—from the dreaded meeting of the in-laws to the rising costs of, well, everything—when his little girl tells him she’s getting married. 

Complete with original illustrations, this is a classic in every sense. You’ll laugh with sympathy and enjoy every word.

I've never seen the 1949 movie version of this story, but love the Steve Martin remake, so when Doubleday Book Club offered the 85th Anniversary volume of the book that started it all, I jumped.  It's a cute story about a father who is totally lost in the world of out-of-control, over-the-top wedding preparations.  Although wedding customs have changed in the past 85 years, the obsession with "the perfect wedding" hasn't - If you doubt me, watch just one episode of a wedding reality show, and you'll see my point - so the story still feels current in spite of outdated protocol.  A fun read - especially for those who have ever tried to give their daughter everything she wants, only to have her want something totally new.