Endurance: A Year in Space, a Lifetime of Discovery by Scott Kelly

The worst argument I ever had with my dad when I was growing up was over astronauts. We were at the dinner table and I had remarked that astronauts had to be superior and my dad argued that they had to be 'normal'. Dad thought that normal meant a human body that functioned as it was supposed to, and I thought superior meant they had abilities--physical and cognitive--that most of us don't have.

After reading Endurance by Scott Kelly I stand by my pre-teen opinion. What Kelly achieved and what he endured was amazing. Few of us have the will and the commitment to pursue our dream when things get tough. Most of us settle for good enough, unable to push ourselves past what we consider our 'limits'. Nothing stopped Kelly. Nothing.

Unlike his twin brother Mark, also an astronaut, Scott was an indifferent student until he knew what he wanted. Tom Wolfe's book The Right Stuff  about the first astronauts was the fire that lit his imagination and gave him a vision of what he wanted. He applied himself to his studies and was thrilled to become a Navy jet pilot, then a test pilot, and finally an astronaut. He never said 'no' to a mission, and found himself on the Endeavor and finally on the International Space Station (ISS) for a year.

In his book Endurance we learn the behind the scenes life of an astronaut, the grueling training and vast amounts of information that must be learned, including Russian. It involves pain and adult diapers, the mundane yet sophisticated duty of cleaning an ISS toilet,  getting along with others in tight quarters, unexpected breakdowns, and long, draining space walks where every move must be considered and planned.

The book is detailed. Don't expect Endurance to be an easy, joyride read, but I myself was fascinated. in alternating chapters, we learn about Scott's life and career and about his year on the ISS.

Scott has a scientific mind and his drive and ambition are evident. Don't expect a warm, fuzzy persona. Scott does talk about his brother Mark and the tragic shooting of his wife, Gabby Gifford, and her recovery but he is not telling Mark's story. Along with Scott's family, they are included in context of Scott's story.

It was fascinating to learn about the astronauts Scott served with on his missions, especially those from other countries, and how the Russian space program differs from NASA. The Russian and American astronauts on the ISS depend on each other for survival and their trust and respect for each other is essential. (If only we on Earth saw our planet as a big spaceship which we share!)

What does it take to be a success, to fulfill your highest potential? Scott had no fear and saw risky situations as challenges to overcome. He believed that he was part of something bigger than himself, adding to our knowledge and understanding so that someday humankind could travel to Mars. He believed that if humanity works together there is no end of what we can achieve. He believed in himself. He believed in the talents of his fellow astronauts.

I was thrilled to be given a copy of Endurance from Bookish First To Read in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

When Dreams Came True by Nancy A. Bekofske

The Princess Diarist by Carrie Fisher

In 1977 when Star Wars IV: A New Hope came out my husband and I were in our mid-twenties. We loved the movie but not as much as the youth we were working with. The teens bragged about how many times they had seen the movie. The movie was more than a hit, it transformed culture.

Fast forward ten or more years, and our son was sick and restless. I brought out the Star Wars trilogy VCR tapes to entertain him. After viewing the first movie, he told me, "Thank you."

The movie is a touchstone for so many who remember when they first saw it as vividly as recalling where we were on 9-11 or the day President Kennedy was shot.

Princess Leia was a different kind of heroine, the kind I had found lacking when I was growing up in the 1950s. In my make-believe play I was always a cowboy because the cowgirls were weak and needed to be rescued. I resented it when Leia was turned into a sex object, barely dressed in that uncomfortable metal bikini.

Later, we were into Joseph Campbell and loved how the story of Luke Skywalker was a secular manifestation of the eternal hero myth.

We were fans of all the Harrison Ford movies-- from Indiana Jones to Witness. But I never idolized Mark Harmon or Harrison Ford or Carrie Fisher like many did, or do. Over the years I read about Carrie's books and saw her in a few movies and heard about her personal battles. I'm not really a Hollywood bio book fan, so I did not pay much attention to The Princess Diarist until I read such glowing reviews.

I had requested The Princess Diarist through NetGalley before Carrie's death, based on the reviews I had read. Just last week I was notified that I was granted access to the book.

I always give a new book a glance. Sometimes, I keep reading, hooked. This was one of those times. I read the book in a few sittings.

"...if I didn't write about it someone else would." from The Princess Diarist

Earlier this year on my blog I shared memories of my teen years, drawing from the diaries I kept beginning at age 13. Carrie started writing at age 12, about the time I did. I found myself relating to the Carrie. At age nineteen, she was self-deprecating, uncertain, wanting to appear worldly yet wanting to be loved. How secure could a teenager be when the first thing she is told is to lose ten pounds before filming!

The memoir begins with Carrie retelling her back story, getting the role, and how her affair with Harrison Ford began. Her writing is direct with a touch of humor, and an objectivity made possible by the passing of time. Carrie admits she went into filming hoping to have an affair; there was one boyfriend in her past. Harrison was fifteen years older, and married, and not on her radar although he struck her as the iconic Hollywood star. He made her nervous and left her feeling awkward.

The next section is from the diary she kept during the filming of Star Wars: IV. The diary excerpts offer insight into her nineteen-year-old mind. It is quite heartbreaking and poignant, consisting of poems and thoughts reflecting hard lessons about love. She chose to be with Harrison, but chastised herself for choosing obsession and over emotional investment. There was no future with Harrison, their relationship without real meaning.

Teenage Carrie had great self-awareness about her choices but lacked an ability for self-determination. She has little confidence and feels worthless. She is playing at being someone she is not, and is unable to demand what she needs from the relationship. Harrison has strong boundaries, revealing little; the strong, silent type. Writing keeps Carrie together. When filming on location came to an end, Harrison returned to his family.

Forty years on, Carrie can reflect on her "very long one-night stand" and their one-sided love affair objectively. It's all in the past, she remarks, "and who gives a shit?"

The memoir next shifts to how the Princess Leia role took over Carrie's life and how she coped with the fame and demands it brought: being accessible to fans and signing autographs, listening to the stories of worship, making money off the fans, the endless Comic-Con conventions. Carrie grows old, but Princess Leia does not, and a young fan complained, "I want the other Leia, not the old one." But fans also shared stories that warmed her heart and made her feel good.

I loved the story of people asking her, "Well, you wanted to be in show business," so accept the negative side of fame. That lack of empathy riled me. I was asked a similar question once. I complained about the frequent moves and lack of self-determination that came with my husband being in the pastoral ministry. "You married a minister. You knew what you were getting into," the lady told me. "I was nineteen and had no idea about itineracy," I retorted.

We make decisions at age nineteen feeling very grown up and worldly, and then realize how little we understand about the world, or about ourselves. Carrie didn't set out to become a famous Hollywood actress. And she was not prepared.

Last of all, Carrie ruminates, sobbing, on her iconic role. What would she be if not Princess Leia? "Just me."

Find Carrie Fisher's website here.

I received a free ebook from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

The Princess Diarist
Carrie Fisher
Penguin/Blue Rider Press
Hardcover $26
ISBN: 9780399173592

Read an excerpt from the book at
http://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/317741/the-princess-diarist-by-carrie-fisher/9780399173592/

In Her Own Voice: Dimestore by Lee Smith and The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank

I love reading memoirs and biographies and diaries that allow me to hear the author's authentic voice.

Dimestore: A Writer's Life by Lee Smith, author of Oral History, Fair and Tender Ladies, and On Agate Hill s a beautiful memoir consisting of essays on aspects of her life.

Lee paints a warm and nostalgic portrait of growing up in a loving, supportive, yet dysfunctional family in Gundy, Virginia. Her father ran the dimestore in town. A later visit to the city reveals the changes that occurred over the years. Grundy, on the flood plain, had been literally moved to high ground. Wal-Mart was invited in, and was followed by other chains. Her beloved mountain where she ran wild as a girl had been top-mined, now a naked mesa with a city park.

The essays are far ranging, from her mother's recipe box, which included Pine Bark Stew and Cooter Pie, to her father's bipolar illness and mother's recurring depression and anxiety, learning to be a 'lady' at her aunt's city home, love life, and teaching career. Lee tells about hearing Eudora Welty read A Worn Path, then reading all her works until "a lightbulb clicked" about writing what you knew.  I was enchanted to meet Lou, an eccentric but gifted writer who showed up at a writing workshop,

I was especially moved when she wrote about her son, a brilliant musician who developed a mental disorder that required medication to keep him stabilized for a diminished life, but still one that mattered.

Lee writes about books and reading, writing and teaching, love and the end of love. It was a lovely read. I read a chapter each night before bed, never more, drawing out my pleasure.

I received a free book in a giveaway from David Abram's blog The Quivering Pen.

*****

This month one of my book clubs read The Diary of Anne Frank. It seemed a fitting choice considering the rise of hate groups, and that it is Banned Book Week. Almost all had read the book as a teenager.

Anne's optimism and ability to find beauty and joy under duress can teach us all.

Anne's small community was in extraordinary circumstances that put normal family and community bonds under abnormal stress. They were in fear every day. There were no external activities and relationships to diffuse negative energy, no ability for a nice walk and have friendly conversation with neighbors. Normally, Anne would have had girl friends undergoing the same changes. She only had her diary Kitty.

"It's an odd idea for someone like me to keep a diary...because it seems to me that neither I--nor for that matter anyone else--will be interested in the unbosomings of a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl. Still, what does that matter? I want to write, but more than that, I want to bring out all kinds of things that lie buried deep in my heart." Saturday 20 June, 1942 from The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank

Early in the diary Anne admits her life would not be particularly interesting. And several book club members, both male, admitted that it was tedious for them to slough through all the petty family drama Anne wrote about. Had it not been for the special circumstances and Anne's tragic end they would not see the point of reading a teenager's diary.

I reflected on those comments in the back of my mind as the group shared their thoughts.

Anne addresses universal experiences with no self consciousness about what she exposes. Readers can connect their own experience and realize how 'normal' we all are. For such a young writer, she had an extraordinary self-awareness, a masterly command of language, and an unusual drive for personal growth.

Her discussion of her sexual growth and awareness she anticipates the feminist attitude of the 1970s when women were encouraged to explore their own bodies and accept their sexuality. Here is Anne discussing anatomy with a boy at a time when my mother was given no real information about sex, except advice that 'boys give love to get sex, and girls give sex to get love." Mom went on her honeymoon in total ignorance. Anne knows she is not 'in love' but finds pleasure in physical closeness and will not call it wrong.

When I had finished reading the diary I watched My Daughter, Anne Frank which I enjoyed very much. Anne's childhood friends talked about Anne, including 'boyfriends'. One saw her through the fence when she was at Bergen-Belsen, emaciated and shivering.

The diary and the film left me somber and sad. The next day I was reading about the U.S. army liberating the concentration camps in Germany, with descriptions of the number of dead and dying, the piles of bodies. Anne's face came to mind, and the sheer horror was too much to bear.

This is what the book club readers most commented upon. Anne is the face of the tens of thousands who died under the Nazi regime; she humanizes the cold statistics and makes us understand that which we would rather not know.

Anne Frank's diary has been banned, and yet everyone at the table agreed that this is one book that should be universally read.

Leading Tones: Reflections on Music, Musicians, and the Music Industry by Leonard Slatkin

"Reflections' is a great description of Slatkin's second book. In a series of essays, Slatkin addresses themes and concerns regarding the music world and his experience.

The book is divided into four sections, titled Living With Music, Six of the Best, The Business of Music, and Wrapping Up. Included are two "interludes," The Mind Wanders and Lagniappe.

The Ten addresses Slatkin's favorite pieces to conduct, with several pages of commentary elucidating his choice. His 'desert island' choices include Beethoven's Symphony No 3, "Eroica", and Elgar's Symphony No. 2, which are being played in his final season (2017-18) with the DSO.

Six of the Best offers brief essays on musicians and conductors Slatkin has known and worked with, starting with Eugene Ormandy. Ormandy's "Philadelphia sound" was a favorite of my husband, and we often quipped that we moved to Philly just for the orchestra. The other five include violinist Nathan Milstein, pianist John Browning, the great violinist Isaac Stern (who I saw in performance with the Philadelphia Orchestra from a balcony seat over the stage!), Gilbert Kaplan, and the popular John Williams.

Pieces for a Lifetime sums up Slatkin's 50+ year career. He was the conductor of the St. Louis Orchestra when in April 1971, they premiered first live performance of Jesus Christ Superstar when it was still a 'rock opera.' (In October 1971 my then-fiance and I saw the rock opera performed in Columbus, OH.) Slatkin next moved to the National Symphony Orchestra before becoming music director at the Detroit Symphony Orchestra (DSO).

Under Slatkin, the DSO introduced twenty-nine world premieres, including the Arab-American Mohammed Fairouz's Cello Concerto, Desert Sorrows January 2016. The cellist was the amazing Maya Beiser, who is Jewish, and the premiere was performed at Congregation Shaarey Zedek, a Conservative synagogue. The synagogue is our favorite "neighborhood concert" venue, with ease of access, wonderful sound, and inspiring architecture. We were at the concert, an exciting, inspiring, and most memorable experience. The response was ecstatic.

The Business of Music considers the changing audition process. Stop the Music offers Slatkin's experience and insight into the Minnesota Orchestra strike, and how he used the experience to bring back the DSO after its strike.

Because we were not yet living in the Metro Detroit area I was unfamiliar with the DSO strike. But my husband and I are the happy beneficiaries of Slatkin's post-strike innovations, including attending Neighborhood Concerts, enjoying the DSO to Go app, and watching the televised Livestream concerts. For a reasonable donation, we can hear and view all the concerts, along with thousands across the world.

Other sections of the book include articles he has written, humorous stories, critic reviews, and "Slatkin on Slatkin."

I enjoyed reading Leading Tones and I learned quite a bit. The book is very accessible to non-musicians. Slatkin's personality and style is very approachable.

I received a free ebook from the publisher through Edelweiss in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

Leading Tones
by Leonard Slatkin
Amadeus Press
Publication Date: September 12, 2017
ISBN: 9781495091896, 1495091899
Hardcover $27.99

from the publisher: Leading Tones is a glimpse into several aspects of the musical world. There are portions devoted to Leonard Slatkin's life as a musician and conductor, portraits of some of the outstanding artists with whom he has worked, as well as anecdotes and stories both personal and professional. Much of the book discusses elements of the industry that are troubling and difficult during this first part of the 21st century. Auditions, critics, fiscal concerns, and labor negotiations are all matters that today's conductors must be aware of, and this book provides helpful suggested solutions. Leading Tones is intended not only for musicians, but also for the music lover who wishes to know more about what goes into being a conductor. 

LEONARD SLATKIN has conducted virtually all of the leading orchestras in the world. Currently music director of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, he has held directorships in New Orleans; St. Louis; Washington, DC; London (with the BBCSO); and Lyon, France. He has also served as principal guest conductor in Pittsburgh, Minneapolis, Los Angeles, and Cleveland. Slatkin's more than 100 recordings have garnered seven Grammy awards and 64 nominations. Other awards include the National Medal of Arts, Chevalier of the French Legion of Honor, Austria's Decoration of Honor in Silver, and the League of American Orchestras' Gold Baton Award. He is the father of one son, Daniel, and lives with his wife, composer Cindy McTee.
His previous book is Conducting Business.

Mao's Last Dancer

My library book club read for August was Mao's Last Dancer by Li Cunxin, published in 2003. I read a Young Reader's Edition. I don't know if that was what everyone in the group received, but I would have preferred to read the 'adult' version of the memoir.

Cunxin relates how he grew up in poverty, part of a peasant family working on a commune. In spite of nearly starving, he believes in the pro-Communist propaganda about how lucky they were to have been saved by Chairman Mao's takeover. When Cunxin has an opportunity to be chosen for Madame Mao's new dance school, withstanding physically torturous tests, he is determined to succeed for the sake of his family, and to escape the hard life of manual labor.

Winning a coveted place in the dance school means Cunxin must leave his village and family, and the freedom of boyhood. He was eleven years old and had never seen a city, indoor water, or so much food. But he was lonely and homesick.

" ...[I] grabbed the precious quilt my naing [mother] had made for me. I plunged my face into it and wept. ...My naing's quilt was like a life-saving rope in the middle of an ocean of sadness. I couldn't stop thinking of my family back home."

The dance school brought together children from the working and peasant classes, to teach them traditional Chinese dance, politically sanctioned dances, and Western ballet, along with academic and Communist political classes.

The regime was brutal, but the rewards motivated the boy to succeed. He found mentors who taught him to love dance. He excelled and won a place to study in America for a year. He discovered the Chinese propaganda about America was false and his belief in Mao and Communism was shaken. Cunxin was overwhelmed by the wealth he saw, the abundance of food, the freedom to criticize the president, and even the luxury of a hot bath. After falling in love with an American woman they married and Cunxin defected.

Cunxin became a ballet star. After the failure of his first marriage, he later married and became the father of several children. His second career was as a stockbroker, embracing the capitalism that he was warned about as a child.

The memoir was interesting and I appreciated learning about his early life and the challenges of dance. But I found the book not deeply probing. Perhaps this was because of it's being a young reader's edition. I wanted more depth than offered in this version of the book.

At the book club most loved the book. We had a lot of discussion about dance and what it took to become a great dancer, the single minded dedication, and the pain. It sounded like the complete book was not very different in content from the young reader version I read.

Read interviews with Li Cunxin at
http://www.nytimes.com/2004/09/26/books/arts/dance-the-dancer-whodefected-twice.html
https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2015/jul/30/li-cunxin-maos-last-dancer-queensland-ballet-interview
http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-26679495

Morningstar: Growing Up With Books by Ann Hood

When Ann Hood's memoir Morningstar: Growing Up With Books arrived in the mail, I opened it up to glance at it. I read the Introduction, in which Hood talks about her family and hometown and discovery of books, in particular, Louis May Alcott's Little Women.

I made myself a cup of hot tea and settled in to read the first chapter.

Before dinner, I had read the entire book. I could not put it down. Hood's voice and personality, her childhood yearning for something bigger, her love of reading and the impact books had on her life, caught my heart as well as my interest. I felt a kinship. I recognized myself reflected in her life, and while reading I thought about the books that had changed my life.

Hood's reading was free ranging, preferring thick books. She believes that the right book comes into a reader's life at the time it is needed, and this small book gives credit to the books that helped her understand life, answering the questions that perplexed her, and showing the path to personal growth and adulthood.

I recommend Morningstar for everyone who loves books, whose lives were touched by books. Those who as children found answers and discovered new questions, who found understanding and direction in the pages.

The back cover reads, "In her admired works of fiction, including the recent The Book That Matters Most, Ann Hood explores the transformative power of literature. Now, with warmth and honesty, Hood reveals the personal story behind these beloved novels." Another book for my TBR list! But when I was at our local bookstore this morning, I choose to buy Hood's novel The Red Thread. I am eager to read more of Hood's work.

The chapters and major books discussed are:

• Lesson 1: How to Dream, in which Hood address the impact of Majorie Morningstar by Herman Wouk, which she read as a teenager who felt trapped in a narrow life. 
• Lesson 2: How to Become a Writer concerns The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath and Hood's yearning for something more. 
• Lesson 3: How to Ask Why considers Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbull and the Viet Nam War. 
• In Lesson 4: How to Buy Books, Hood agonizes over purchasing a book, in particular, Love Story by Eric Segal, and how that first purchase led to a library. 
• Hood's brother gifted her a set of Steinbeck books and in Lesson 5: How to Write A Book she writes about what Grapes of Wrath taught about layers of meaning. 
• A Stone for Danny Fisher by Harold Robbins was her introduction to another culture, which Hood writes about in Lesson 7: Be Curious. 
• As a curious teen, The Harrad Experiment by Robert Rimmer answered questions she could not ask, Lesson 8: How to Have Sex. 
• How to See the World is Lesson 9, in which Pasternak's Dr. Zhivago exposed Hood to exotic places and times. 
• The last, Lesson 10: How to Run Away, is inspired by the character longing to escape in John Updike's Rabbit, Run. 

I received a free ARC from the publisher in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

Ann Hood

Morningstar
by Ann Hood
W. W. Norton & Co.
Publication Date:  August 1. 2017
$22.95 hardcover
ISBN: 978-0-393-25481-5

Reading with Patrick: The Memoir of an Idealistic Teacher

Michelle Kuo is a Chinese-American who grew up in West Michigan. I've lived in West Michigan. I lived in an entire county with only a handful of African Americans. I don't think there was one Asian person out of the 40,000. So it is understandable that Kuo grew up feeling alienated, identifying with the African American experience.

I admire how Kuo struggled with her immigrant parent's dreams for her and her personal desire to dedicate her talent to human rights. And I appreciated her honesty in admitting her failures and steep learning curve about the limits of what she could accomplish. It recalled to mind the idealism my husband and I once held and the pain and disappointment when faced with reality.

Reading with Patrick is her story of two years teaching English in one of the poorest counties in America, working in a school for troubled students. Success was not immediate, but she persisted. Her kids realized she was a teacher who cared.

She leaves under pressure to continue her education, planning a career in law. Several years later one of her best students is in jail for manslaughter. Kuo puts her personal life on hold to be with Patrick. They start back at square one. He has to physically relearn how to write legibly and read with understanding. Over seven months he becomes a gifted creative writer.

The story of how she discovers how to awaken his mind and set his spirit free is heartwarming and also devastating. I thought of the old television commercials for supporting black colleges: A mind is a terrible thing to waste. But of course, these children born in poverty, with little opportunity, do lead wasted lives. Kuo discovers many of her students have also ended up in jail or pregnant and it makes her reconsider her own estimation of her legacy.

Patrick accepts a plea bargain and serves his time. And then discovers all the doors are closed to him. As Kuo points out, the justice system has moved from trials to settlements, but the jail sentences permanently impair futures. The justice system and public education, and the legacy of racism behind them are addressed with thoughtful insight.

It is Kuo's self-revelatory journey that sets this book apart.  And I loved reading how students, and in particular Patrick, responded to literature and poetry.

I won this book on a giveaway. Thank you to LibraryThings and the publisher.

Random House
Publication Date July 11, 2017
$27
ISBN: 978-0-8129-9731-6

Theft By Finding by David Sedaris

"In the U.K., if you discover something of value and keep it, that's theft by finding."

I kept a diary for long periods in my life. So, I like to read diaries. I read Samuel Pepys' diary. It took me two years. I read it in bed so every night the last line I read was usually, "And so to bed."

I thought it would be great to read David Sedaris's diaries. I have read several books by Sedaris and I've heard him on the radio. The first book I read was on recommendation by a library staff person.

I was living in a teeny rural town where the police chief had his own untrained militia and was armed with ex-military weapons, including a Hummer. I heard the KKK left flyers on driveways. The local church was splitting because the denomination was not strongly anti-abortion and anti-gay and anti-anything else progressive liberal. I went to the library and asked for funny books to raise my spirits, and I was given Holidays on Ice.

Its no wonder funding to libraries has been on the cutting block under the current administration.

Consquently, I should have known what I was getting into when I requested Theft by Finding, excerpts from his 156 volume diary kept between 1977 and 2002.

I had no idea.

"What I prefer recording at the end...of my day are remarkable events I have observed.."

And he has observed some pretty strange events.

At times I thought, what did I get myself into? Other times I laughed out loud, but no way was I going to tell anyone what was so funny. It's  embarrassing to laugh at something so incorrect.

And yet, I realized, Sedaris's stories were, well, pretty believable for all their bizarreness. I lived in Philadelphia and seen some pretty weird stuff myself. But that's another story.

Also, Sedaris has some pretty spot-on insights.

One of my favorites is from November 17, 1987, Chicago. The police had caught a man who had smashed windows and painted swastikas on Jewish businesses. He was a skinhead with tattoos, Sedaris writes,"which is strange, I think, because Jews in concentrations camps had shaved heads and tattoos. you'd think that anti-Semites would go for a different look."

His self-knowledge is also commendable. On January 26, 1999, in Paris, he is called a misogynist. "No," I corrected her, "I'm not a misogynist. I'm a misanthrope. I hate everyone equally."

Sedaris is thoughtful. On December 31, 1998, he wrote that his dad, visiting him in Paris, had the evening before leaned near a candle and set his hair on fire. He wrote, "This morning we went to buy him a hat." Such a good son. Helping Dad keep his dignity by covering up the scorched hair.

In his forward, Sederis suggests readers peruse the book, sampling here and there, now and then. Good luck with that. Frankly, it's hard to put down.

I received a free ebook from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

"Raw glimpses of the humorist's personal life as he clambered from starving artist to household name... though the mood is usually light, the book is also a more serious look into his travails as an artist and person... A surprisingly poignant portrait of the artist as a young to middle-aged man." —Kirkus (starred review)

Theft By Finding
David Sedaris
Little, Brown & Co.
Publication May 30, 2017
$28 hardcover
ISBN: 9780316154727

As I Knew Him: My Dad, Rod Serling

Anne Serling's memoir of her father Rod is a moving and loving tribute to the man she knew as a fun companion, a sure foundation, and an adored father who died much too young.

Anne talks about her father's beloved parents and his love of family, his encountering prejudice even from his mother-in-law, and the devastating experience of war in the South Pacific that left him with nightmares. Therein are the roots of the values we discover in his Twilight Zone episodes, his nostalgic idealization of childhood and children, the power of compassion and forgiveness, the need for civilization to "remain civilized."

After his war service, tortured by PTSD, Rod turned to writing as catharsis. He believed that prejudice was the basic evil from which all evils took root. The stories he wrote attack the worst of mankind, and extol our best efforts. And yet, behind this tortured and angry righteousness lay the heart of a child, a man who loved to be goofy, who got on his hands and knees to play with his beloved dogs. He loved watching The Flintstones and Huckleberry Hound with his girls, Christmas, trips to Disneyland, summers at the cottage, and It's A Wonderful Life.

He was a lifelong smoker, never without a cigarette, his girls gagging and coughing and complaining in the car and throwing out his cigarettes behind his back. I had to smile, for I had done those same things to my mother.

Rod was a very short man, fit and tan, with dark wavy hair and eyebrows, dark eyes. I had never it considered before, but he looked like my own father. Dad was 5' 7" and 130 pounds most of my life, with dark wavy hair and thick eyebrows. The resemblance strikes me now.

Rod Serling

My dad.

As a girl watching the Twilight Zone, my favorite show at age 8, I did notice Rod's smoking. I thought that when I grew up and smoked I'd buy cigarettes from the company that was his sponsor. I never did smoke, thankfully.

As I read Anne's story about her father's last days and death I shared her grief, recalling my own father's and mother's death by cancer. I feel great sympathy. She was only twenty when she lost her dad and it took many years for healing to come.

The writer's role is to menace the public's conscience, Rod Serling wrote. The parables and messages of his work are as relevant today as they were in the 1960s.

This is a beautiful memoir about a man who did not expect to be remembered but who has impacted generations.

Read the beginning of the book at As I Knew Him. Visit Anne Serling's web page at http://www.anneserling.com.
Read more about the Twilight Zone and it's value lessons at
https://theliteratequilter.blogspot.com/2017/04/everything-i-need-to-know-i-learned-in.html

Having Too Much Fun, Nancy (Nearly) Skips Senior Sorrow

Early summer of 1969 I was changing bedrooms again. My family was hosting an exchange student, Elina Salmi from Finland. We girls would have the two upstairs bedrooms.

My senior picture

Having a sister was a new experience. By the end of the year we were really acting like siblings. I wasn't jealous of all the attention Mom gave Elina, helping her to adjust to an American school, learning English, and dealing with homesickness. I was too busy.

Elina Salmi, my Finnish exchange student sister. October 1969.

Me, October 1969

Our family was never more active. Mom kept us on the go. She also kept a diary of everything we did this year. Several years before his death Dad compiled an album of photos about Elina. So with my diaries and scrapbook the year is well documented!

On August 22 at 2 am Elina Salmi arrived at Metro Detroit airport from Finland. My family was excited and talkative, unaware that Elina knew English but we were speaking too fast. She was tired and overwhelmed.

Elina was from Rovaniemi on the Arctic Circle. She had never seen anything like the expressway with so many lanes and bridges, Detroit's skyscrapers, or the endless city that extended down Woodward Ave into Royal Oak. It was overwhelming to her.

My family kept her on the go those first weeks. I took Elina to the outdoor dance at the ice rink. We went to Stony Creek and went swimming. We dined with my Ramer grandparents. Elina, Tom, and Dad went fishing one morning and we all went to Belle Isle in the afternoon. We had a party for Elina to meet my friends. We went to the Detroit Zoo.

On Labor Day my family held a BBQ picnic in the back yard with burgers and hot dogs, potato salad, and corn on the cob. Elina was baffled by the corn, she later told us. All she knew was that Donald Duck's nephews fed corn on the cob to pigs! She thought we were feeding her pig food!

We went to the movies at the Main Street Theater, to see a ball game at Tiger Stadium, and bought cider at Yates Cider Mill. There was a block party and I lost a contact in the grass.What a whirlwind of activity!

Herald article on the exchange students. I wrote about Elina.

I became friends with the other exchange students that year: Uta Schnubbe from Hanover, Germany; Toshihiko Fukuyama from Mikata-Gun Hyogo-ken, Japan; and Mirna Guerra from Punta Arenas, Chile.

Tosh and Uta, 1970 Lancer photo

Tosh taught us to enjoy rice crackers with seaweed. He missed his Saki. Mirna discovered she had TB and spent much her year in a sanitarium in Pontiac. Uta's father was pastor of a large Lutheran church. She became a judge and in 1975 she and her husband returned for a visit and we met up at my folk's house.

Me and Uta in 1975.  The photo is very faded.
I was wearing a bright green outfit I'd sewn.

Over the summer I had been still grieving over the breakup with my boyfriend but I was determined to push forward. In the fall I saw him at an event with his girlfriend and I realized I was over him. I had my crushes over the year, but at this point, I was enjoying friendships and flirtations with boys without feeling bad about not having a boyfriend.

Me, Dad and Tom at my Ramer Grandparent's house

My friends were applying to college and I realized if I really wanted to go to college I had better do something about it. I told my mom and she talked to my dad. Although Dad did not see the point of a girl having a college education, and Mom only had wanted to be a wife and mother, they agreed to support me.

On September 24 I talked to my counselor Mr. Stafford about going to college. He thought Oakland Community College was my only option because of my grades. But he worked hard on my behalf.

In September I went to a football game on a date. My little brother went with the Stephens--the Kimball Principal's family! October 9 I took my brother and Elina to the Kimball-Dondero bonfire and we went to Pasquale's for pizza afterward.

For Senior Halloween Day I wore a pilgrim dress made by our neighbor and Elina wore her Finnish traditional costume.

Elina in her Finnish dress, Joe the cat, and me as a Pilgrim

The last football game of the year was a blast, with a party afterward at Tosh's host family's home, but I was sad knowing I would never attend another Kimball football game.

Dad would sometimes pick me up at school in his old red pickup truck. Frankly, I was embarrassed as no one else had a dad with a red pickup truck coming to get them. One day some boys asked if he would help them move the Kimball Rock! I wrote that he'd broken his finger and didn't help.

October 15 was the nationwide Moratorium protesting the Vietnam War with a demonstration at Memorial Park in Royal Oak.

Herald front page article on the anti-war protest at Memorial Park, RO

Me, Grandpa Ramer, and Elina in Gramps basement

On October 22 my Grandfather Ramer was hospitalized after his first heart attack. I visited him in the hospital. He was strangely quiet and internal. I was afraid he was going to die. There was so much I wanted to know. I was thinking about becoming a teacher. He had taught high school and currently was teaching at Lawrence Tech. Gramps survived, gave up smoking, and started walking to the Berkley post office to mail the numerous letters he sent all over the country.

official rules of PAC

On October 29 PAC (Political Action Club) had a meet the candidate night. Dad and Elina came with me.

Tribune article on the PAC Meet the Candidate night

My folks had a costume Halloween party. Mom loved a party.

Actually a 1967 photo of me with dad dressed
for Halloween as a blond 'Castro' 

On Nov. 26 at 6:30 we left for a trip to Tonawanda. We visited with Grama Gochenour and Uncle Ken and Aunt Alice Ennis; Skip and Katie Marvin; and our old neighbors John and Lucille Kuhn and Alma Ensminger.

On Thanksgiving Day we went to Niagara Falls then the entire family gathered for dinner that evening. The next day we visited mom's lifelong friend Doris Waterson and her family and Dad's uncle Lee Becker and his family including my cousin Debbie. Uncle Lee was a volunteer fireman and he took us for a ride on the Grand Island fire truck.

The following day we drove to Allegheny and visited Putt's farm and my Guenther cousins and their parents who had built a cabin there.

We left Buffalo in a blizzard but drove out of bad weather after three hours. We came through the Detroit Tunnel and drove around downtown Detroit to see the Christmas lights.

I was proud to have been accepted into the A Capella Choir. The choir photo was taken on December 2. I wrote, "A- choir pic today: on stage we had to change some robes around for length. We broke out into a chorus of “The Stripper” and about 5 boys came running to the auditorium door to see what was going on."

A Capella Choir. I am in the second row, five from the right.

December 19 was my last Holiday Concert followed by an A Capella party. It had been a highlight of my year and I looked forward to the multi-choir piece and the moving concert final piece O Holy Night.

In the spring the choir sang popular songs: San Antone Rose, Blue World, and Cecelia. During the year we also sang Black is the Color of my True Love’s Hair, the Cornish folk song I Love My Love, and “Hospdi Paolime, a Russian Chant."

My senior photos were taken on Dec. 15, the day my brother's American anole died. He had bought it at the circus. "It was a dreadful procedure. Tom and I pushing it toward life all the way. But it was past all help. Shriveled, splotchy coloring, weak—suddenly it was motionless, its convulsive breathing stopped, its eyes glassy and staring." It used to sleep on my shoulder under my long hair. One night it curled up in my scarf and I didn't remember it until bedtime.

On December 27 we had a party with the exchange students.

Dad and Tosh, Elina, me at the piano with Mirna

Mirna from Chile turning the page as I played Christmas Carols 

I realized high school would soon be over and I cherished every moment. I wrote," It’s all so sad—the beauty found in the littlest things—like singing a song in the cafeteria with the jukebox. Everyone sang. Everyone."

I continued, "I’ll find sorrow in the beauty of parting, for I have been in the process of parting since I came here. And it is all so sad to know that soon I’ll have lost the greatest beauty I have ever known—this life, this school—the singing of songs, and the clapping of hands, the worn books, the every crevice of this building—I will lose it."

I got my driver's license in December and started driving to school. I had to fill the gas tank half full in return for using Mom's car. That took a good chunk out of my $2 a week allowance!

My typical comp grade!

On winter morning Mom asked me to drive Tom and the neighbor boys to Northwood Elementary. It was icy and I fishtailed, scaring the boys and myself.

I was in Composition. On August 12 Miss Young asked who my favorite writers were and I answered J.D. Salinger, John Steinbeck, Thomas Hardy, and Thomas Wolfe. She often liked my content, but I consistently received a lower grade because of my bad spelling.

1969-70 Herald Staff, Lancer photo. I am in the first row, far right.

I was writing poetry and sharing it in composition class and in the Herald. My girlfriend even sent some of my poetry to her boyfriend at college. It was pretty awful, derivative stuff.

Poetry page in the Herald. I was still imitating Stephen Crane.

Another of my Herald poems

In speech class, I discovered I could keep my composure while giving a speech, but once I sat down I shook with nerves. Government class with Mr. Meraw and Mr. Poppovitch ended the year with a mock campaign and election. We had a blast.

my government class photo from the Lancer yearbook

I had Novel class and read a lot of contemporary fiction for young adults. And World Lit with Mr. Botens. He handed out excerpts printed on mimeograph paper. I would go to the library and get the book the selections--Thomas Aquinas, Pascal, Candide by Voltaire--and read the originals. I wrote, "I’ve been reading Pascal and Schopenhaur.  And Dante & Gogol (Russian, Dead Souls)" On January 23 I wrote, "Mr. B gave a great lecture. Mike M., Cindy, Diane B. and I stayed after to tell him how great his course was. I nearly cried."

I enjoyed Physical Geography with Mr. Wall. Grampa Ramer was always talking about geography and geology and oceanography. We would take a trip through the Irish Hills and he would point out the kettles and moraines left by glaciers. In the early 60s, Gramps was interested in 'the next ice age' and even had a local television channel air him talking about his theory of diverting the Gulf Stream away from the Arctic to prevent the melting of the ice.

I tried Music Theory but quickly changed to Music Appreciation. That course and Art Appreciation were a breeze. To this day I can tell the composer of a symphonic work or the artists of a painting right off.

I was reading about 10 books a month. In my diary I mention reading Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury, The Web and the Rock by Thomas Wolfe, Tell Me That You Love Me Junie Moon by Marjorie Kellogg, and John Steinbeck's Tortilla Flat. I wrote, "Ever read Frank Yerby?  Try his Odor of Sanctity, –I think you’ll like it, because it bears a resemblance to Avalon. Just as exciting, moving and unbelievable!"

I surprised myself by doing well on the ACT and SAT. But, I had been turned down by Alma, Central, and Albion. My counselor kept trying.

In February I learned that Adrian College had accepted me, along with my friends Nancy B., whose dad worked with my dad at Chrysler, and Lynn Martin, my friend since 8th grade. Adrian is a United Methodist college that still specializes in students who are the first in their family to go to college.

On February 26 the Political Action Club took a trip to Lansing. We had a tour of the museum and the Capital, visiting the beautiful Senate room.

In March my first boyfriend came to visit and took me to see his folks. It was the last time I would ever see him.

Also in March, The A Capella Choir went to Walled Lake for a Festival where we had to sight-read before judges.We scored top on all events!

I went on a date to the National Honor Society Hootenanny, flew kites with my Herald staff friend (and fellow New Yorker) Margie B., and visited my Girl's Choir friend Carol F. at her Oakland University dorm for a weekend. 

In April, Elina and I went to the All School Party, to the school play with a trip to Pasquale's after, and I went to the cast party after the last play. I also bought the Modern Library volume of Pascal's Pensees.

Me, Elina, and Mom at Adrian College, April 1970

On April 24 I visited Adrian along with my parents and Elina. I saw Estes Hall, my future dorm. 

May was eventful.

There was an Environmental Teach-In with tables in the glass hallway with information about ENACT,  Environmental Action for Survival, out of the University of Michigan. I bought a pin reading Give Earth a Change. I've been an environmentalist ever since.Read about the history of ENACT and the first Earth Day here.

On May 7 Kimball students gathered in the courtyard to attempt to lower the flag in protest of Kent State and the U.S. entrance into Cambodia.

Herald photo of student protest in courtyard

Also in May my wallet was stolen from my purse in the girl's lavatory. She took my parking tickets, Modern Dance Show tickets, and driver's license.

The Herald staff celebrated Mr Rosen's birthday with a party; we gave him a monogrammed wallet.

I went to the spring orchestra concert. When the Kimball Symphony Orchestra played music from Carousel, I sang along with “You’ll Never Walk Alone.” A boy I knew from choir jumped up from his seat, came back & said “Mr. L would be proud of you—that was great tone—I could hear you all the way from my chair—“  I stopped singing then.

Our Senior Trip was to Washington D.C. Mom warned me to be good. The sister of a classmate told me to "live it up!" Waiting to leave a boy put his hand through the door.

Waiting for the bus for Washington DC

We arrived in D.C. on May 22. I joined some of my friends in skipping breakfast to see the town. I had never stayed in a hotel before and thought it was pretty fancy. "There were three beds and four girls in our hotel room," I wrote.

On the hotel balcony, Elia in her Marimekko dress.
Shirley, my friend since junior high next to her.

OMG I slept in those? Hanging out in the motel room.

Uta and John Speer living it up

I have no idea what Happyland is, but I wrote that a bunch of us "went thru Happyland & rode on three rides together then came back on the Potomac River, on top of the boat in the damp night air."

Tosh and Shirley during our bus tour of Washington

The next day we toured the city. A group of us girls ate lunch in a restaurant near by because "the All States [cafeteria] was overflowing with kids." We sat at an outdoor table and I had crab cakes and iced coffee. I had enjoyed both when I visited Uncle Dave Ramer and family when I was fourteen. We later heard that some kids got food poisoning at the All States!

Then we went to a used bookstore where I bought Thomas Wolfe's Look Homeward Angel. I really wanted the first edition of You Can't Go Home Again but I didn't have the $15. As it was I had spent most of my money eating with friends at local restaurants instead of the paid meals at the cafeteria, plus we needed to pay for our own lunch at Gettysburg on the way home. Mr. Wall told me he would have bought the book and skipped eating. 

Elina with the camera she bought in America

We stopped at Gettysburg on the way home.

Herald Staffer Martha S. was one of a group wearing a special outfit.
I first met her when we were walking to junior high
and she introduced herself to me.

The trip was fun and educational.

On May 28 my Grandmother Ramer was in the hospital in a lot of pain. This may be when she had her gall bladder operation.

My Ramer grandparents

I picked up my Senior gifts from local retailers, including a “key” necklace from Dobie Jewelers, a key chain from Meyer Jewelers (which fell apart), and a mini cedar chest- from Charles Furniture, which I still have.

We paid 50 cents to wear shorts to school!

Convocation was held on June 2. I received a Herald award based on column inches written.

My contact case, Herald and Choir pins, a Chile pin from Mirna,
Journalism award, and charm bracelet including aKimball high charm and one from Washington D.C.

I was proud to have my name read at Convocation for having been awarded a grant to attend a Michigan private college, based on my ACT score. It covered a quarter of the yearly cost! And, Elina singled me out in her speech, giving me the title of 'the best sister she could have had.'

Elina dressed for the prom
her dress fabric by Finnish designer Marimekko

June 5 was the Prom but I didn't have a date. Elina went with a nice boy on a double date. After I put makeup on Elina and saw her off I went to my friend Julie's house for a sleep over party. We went to Realtor's Park in the night and played on the playground. Years later when I saw teenagers horsing around on a playground I understood why. It was their last hurrah.

June 14 was graduation. When the choir sang “You’ll Never Walk Alone” I cried. Then came all the graduation parties. We had one, too. This year I had made new friends, and kept the old.

Elina, Me and Tom

A few weeks later Elina returned to Finland. We'd had a great year. I was sad to lose my one and only sister. In his late teens my brother went to Finland to visit Elina and her family. When Elina married she brought her husband to visit us in the States. And when Elina's daughter was a senior in high school we hosted her as our exchange student daughter!

My diary for the year ended,
"It is over.

The biggest show on earth

finished."

My room. 

I had a lot to look forward to. I was going to be the first female, and only the second person in my family, to attend college. I couldn't wait.

June 1970 Herald cover