What I'm Reading

This is my current reading list. I'm trying to get through these books before school starts again at the end of the month.

The War of Art: Just today I signed up to do the May session of Mondo Beyondo. A link from Mondo Beyondo creator Andrea's blog led me to this book. I spend a lot of time reading crap on the internet. And refreshing my email and Facebook for no good reason. This book says I'm just creating resistance to my better life. I think I need to read more--and check out the author's blog--before I get back to my own work.

Bluebird: Subtitled "Women and the New Psychology of Happiness," this book was written by Ariel Gore, who I've loved since first reading Hip Mama magazine back when my kids were small. Ariel lives in Portland and I've been to a few readings she's done. Currently, like the rest of the world, I'm enamored by bird images.

The Courage to Start: This is a book about running. I bought it last summer and although I easily found the courage to start reading, I haven't yet finished it. Also, not yet running.

The Not So Big Life: I bought this so long ago that I'm not sure what it's about. I do remember that I paid full price, which is ridiculous for a hardback book that I didn't read. The author is architect Sarah Susanka of the Not So Big House series.

The Spark: This book got me an extra 500 SparkPoints on SparkPeople.com. I liked the first few chapters, although the paper it's printed on is really cheap. I have yet to fully commit to SparkPeople, but I'm working on it.

So apparently I'm all about self-improvement right now. Good for me. I'm trying to figure out where I'm going, what I'll do when I get there and who's coming along.

My First Giveaway

I've been reading Danny Evans of Dad Gone Mad since early 2006. Like most of the blogs I read regularly, his was probably a link on someone else's page. Don't remember who.

Danny and I have very little in common. He's a tall, skinny Jewish dude with a foul mouth and a love of all things sports. I'm not. The only wiener I blog about is my dog. But I still love his blog and the insight it gives me into the male mind.

Danny has recently written a book. A damn good book about male depression. Since I know a little something about depression, I found it insightful and breathtakingly honest. I'm fortunate that my depression was short-lived and managed easily with a few months of Prozac. I cried constantly, but still made it to work each day (while I had a job).

On Wednesday, I'll be meeting Danny in person when he visits Powell's City of Books in Portland. I'm also going to join his entourage for a few drinks.

But here's my cool idea: I'm going to have him sign his book (which I just finished over my lunch break) and then I'm going to give it away, hopefully to someone who needs it. And I'd like that person to read it and then pass it on.

I have low expectations for comments, but that's the way these things are done. I'll randomly choose the winner on Thursday, 8/13, after I've met the real Dad Gone Mad.

Mommy's Fuzzy Wuzzy Book

When I was very young, my mother read to me constantly. The Monster at the End of This Book was a favorite, as well as a selection of books from her own childhood: Big Susan, Geraldine Belinda, The Cold Blooded Penguin, Sally Goes Shopping Alone. One of her old books, however, stands out as my first memory of a book as an object, rather than just as a story.



Miss Sniff, written by Jane Curry and published in 1945, tells the tale of a mischievous black kitten that Polly Pinks receives as an Easter present. The cat causes trouble by climbing the curtains, perching on the rooftop with another black cat and eventually falling directly into a bucket of yellow paint. But it so happens that the wrong cat is rescued from the paint and Miss Sniff has exchanged places with the similar-looking “Mr. Sniff.” In time the secret is revealed: Miss Sniff comes home with three tiny black kittens of her own.

One of a series of “Fuzzy Wuzzy” books, all the cat illustrations in Miss Sniff are velvet flocked. The texture of the illustrations is the book’s standout feature, and the reason that I remember it so vividly. Additionally, the illustrations are bright and cheerful and Curry’s text asks simple questions of the reader, such as “can you guess?” The girl in the story, with her rosy cheeks and blonde hair, always reminds me of my mother, who must have looked just like that in 1945, when she was four years old.



I still have my mother’s copy of this book. Its corners are rounded and the spine is held together, barely, with crispy masking tape. The cat illustrations on the cover and inside are still fuzzy, but the pages have yellowed. Everywhere the velvet touches, a ghostly impression has been left on the facing page. However, try as I might, I could never interest my own kids in this too sweet story. Perhaps I should have tried The Monster at the End of This Book.

Bella Confronts Edward

Suck on this, Multimedia Student. 1 hour, no classes.

Vampires vs. Werewolves

My flight from Minneapolis to Portland was delayed by 90 minutes, so I was very glad that I wandered all over Pittsburgh's South Side yesterday looking for the 2nd Twilight book, New Moon. I finished it somewhere over Utah (just guessing) and tried to get a little sleep. No luck. I finally was home and in pajamas around 2am PST / 5am EST.

I'd already planned to bail on work today, so I was able to sleep in and take the kids to school. The Star has a 8:25 zero period 4 days a week; Friday is her normal day when school starts at 9:35. I visited with Leah at Angst Gallery while her security system was installed.

The Artist went to see Twilight with me at the noon showing in a Living Room theater at Cinetopia, a high-end, all HD, over 21 theater with limited seating. It was about half full; all the evening shows for tonight were sold out.

I'm glad I read the book first--I always am; books are better than movies. But I thought they did a great job of capturing the essence of the story and were incredibly faithful to the Pacific Northwest. Except for one thing: the student population of the fictional Forks, Washington was multicultural. And I don't mean diversity like having vampires at the high school. In the movie the three main Forks High boys were a white kid, an Asian and an African American.

I grew up in a town in the mountains of central Oregon. My town had a population of about 17,000 in 1986 (Forks has around 3000) and there was only one African American kid in my school. I'm guessing that the real Forks is pretty damn white, too.

Of course there were discrepancies between the book and the movie. The kitchen cabinets weren't yellow. The Cullens' house looked very Pacific Northwest, but not like what was written. Minor details. The "twist at the end" that I read about in reviews was so minor you could have blinked and missed it. It was also totally appropriate.

So, about the vampires vs. werewolves...if I had a vast readership I'd take a poll to see if there is any correlation between older readers (Twilight Moms perhaps) being pro-Jacob/werewolf and teen/tween readers being on Team Edward/vampires. I think there might be a statistically significant difference. As I pressed myself against The Artist's warm back this morning, I thought how much better warm & fuzzy was compared to cold and stony. As the lover of a werewolf (in Stephenie Meyer's cannon) you get to have a family and your true love will eventually grow old with you. Vampires--not so much. Love a vampire and you either become a vampire or soon you'll be pretending to the world that you're his mother--and then grandmother. Ewww.

I'm not a fan-girl. I'm never going to buy a Forks t-shirt, stand in the rain to watch them film a movie or go to a Q&A session with the cast. I'm not going to get a Twilight tattoo. I'll be the first (not really) person to admit that Stephenie Meyer is not a great writer. But she writes a good story. And this is hopefully the last talk of vampires, werewolves and Edward Cullen on this site. Although I did buy book 3 this afternoon...

The One Where I Cheat Make an Arbitrary Rule

• It is 12:26am on Monday in Pittsburgh. But the clock in my computer says it's still just Sunday evening. So I haven't yet failed NaBloPoMo. Or at least that's my story, and I'm sticking to it. All NaBloPoMo posts will be made in Pacific Standard Time.

• I'm staying at the Hilton, close to Heinz stadium where the Steelers play. Today was a home game and the hotel lobby was filled with fans, all in black and gold. This reminds me of Matt Sabo, the boy I had a crush on in 3rd and 4th grade. In 3rd grade, Mrs. Shepard's class, he was a Pittsburgh Steeler for the Halloween parade. Quick Google search only turns up that he seems to have written for the Oregonian and now may be a journalist in Virginia. Sounds right. I've always liked smart boys.
  

• Although I bought the book in September, I had been avoiding reading Twilight (yes, sexy teen vampire lit--and no, I'm not going to link to Amazon.com, you know the book I mean). I knew that I'd be close to obsessed and couldn't spare the time from studying. So I read it yesterday on the plane--and until about 2am Pittsburgh time. I'm taking Friday off from work since I get in so late on Thursday. And I'm thinking about going to see the movie in the afternoon by myself. Clearly obsessed. Edwaaaard!!!

Reading Program

The summer is about half over. My kids had a lot of plans for the summer. Such as housebreaking the puppy and keeping the kitchen clean. Actually, I think those were MY plans for them.

Also on their agendas: The Star was going to write a novel, volunteer at the Historic Reserve gift shop and learn to play the tuba. The Magician was going to make all the household bread and learn to play the alto saxophone. Most of these things have not happened--and won't.

However, they ARE participating in a variety of reading programs. First, their school has assigned a chapter from Twyla Tharp's The Creative Habit. Each year, the school has a theme and a focus on a specific art form. This past year, the theme was "a world of truths" and the focus was moving image arts (M.I.A.)--also known as film/video. The kids watched a lot of movies--including the entire Planet Earth series. For 2009, the art form will be dance--hence the reading assignment.

They also always participate in the Fort Vancouver Regional Library's summer reading program--which rewards them with movie passes. New this year however is the Family Reading Program, designed to stretch their choices. You see, The Star is too busy writing to read much and The Magician seems to read the same authors (and often the same titles) over and over, to the exclusion of all others. This new list is to encourage them to branch out, to find books they like in unexpected places. Here's what it looks like:

Choose a book….
(choose 5 of 8)

¨ written prior to 1950
¨ set in the Pacific Northwest or written by a Pacific Northwest author
¨ based on a true story
¨ written by a woman or with a female protagonist
¨ which won a Newbery Medal or Newbery Honor
¨ set prior to 1900 or set in a country other than USA
¨ written by an author who belongs to a cultural minority (African-American, Jewish, Asian, gay, handicapped, etc.)
¨ originally written in a foreign language

Steps:

1. Discuss your reward with mom
2. Select and read the books
3. After each, do an oral book report with mom
4. After 5 books, receive your reward

I think The Artist may also choose to participate. Of course, they thought I needed a list of my own. It starts with "read a book by a living, straight American white guy."

When in Trout...

The Magician might be a northwest boy after all. Yesterday he and his dad went fishing with a friend. The Artist's day can be summed up thusly: got sunburned, got injured, got attacked by rodents, no fish. The Magician, on the other hand, is "a natural" according to our friend Michael. He spent the day casting and casting and casting. Didn't catch fish, but apparently has a great arm and just needs more practice and more luck.

Fortunately, Michael did catch fish. Four fat German brown trout that became the our family's dinner last night. Mmm...trout.

I've been reading a lot lately about food. Not just cookbooks, but books about where our food comes from and what that means for our planet and our health. It's not a pretty picture.

According to Michael Pollan (The Omnivore's Dilemma ), most of what we eat is/was corn. Having spent four years attending school in a corn field, that doesn't seem so bad, except that corn is not really just a benign plant waiting for a picnic. Instead, corn is the poster child for the military-industrial complex, a way for The Man to turn petroleum products into protein: synthetic fertilizers + genetically modified corn + factory farmed beef = steak for dinner every night.

I'm not much of a ranter. Not much for loud-mouth politics. But I am getting more and more concerned about food. America is fat. I am fat. And much of it is because processed food products are cheap and easy--and tasty. And the USDA claims to be concerned, but is really a major part of the problem. Subsidies to farmers to grow corn have resulted in such a glut of cheap corn that we've had to invent ways to use it all. Hence high-fructose corn syrup has replaced sugar and beef cattle (ruminants) are forced to eat grain--with a huge dose of antibiotics to keep them from getting too sick from the unnatural diet.

So I'd like to feel superior about eating those fish last night. After all we (well, Michael) caught them and killed them ourselves. But I'm sure that the lake is stocked with baby trout each spring--and troutlings are grown in hatcheries. While not exactly the CAFO (confined animal feeding operation) that creates our burgers, it's also not quite as nature intended.

What's a thinking, health-conscious person to do? My good friend Bruce, who's a big-wig at PETA, would tell me that the answer is outstandingly simple: don't eat, wear or otherwise exploit animals. That means obvious things like no pork chops and no sport fishing. It also means no fiber arts using silk or wool. No leather. No honey.

As much as I admire Bruce's commitment, I'm not about to give up my favorite hobby: hunting for old silk clothes at the Goodwill Outlet. And I'm not going to give up a steamy bowl of ham and beans on a rainy northwest winter's day.

But I will continue to think about what my family eats. I will join Vancouver's emergent Food Coop. And I will continue to express doubt about industrialized foodways.

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PREVIOUS COMMENTS

One of the reasons I was buying venison from local hunters out in the Hill Country. I know all the arguments about hunting... we created the overpopulated herds etc., but hunting keeps them thinned and it's meat that is not yet tainted by the agro/pharmo complexes.
orion Homepage 08.13.07 - 4:40 pm
I'm going to send you a copy of the '100 mile diet'
fiona mackey 08.18.07 - 3:59 pm