If the glass is half full
Then the day’s
Partly sunny
If the story’s part told
Then the ending’s half funny.
If the product’s unsold
Then no need there’s for money.
If the grip doesn’t hold
Then the hand feels
Well
Crumby.
I’m making the final touches on syllabi for my courses on American literature at JMU and composition at Mary Baldwin College.
As for the course on American lit. since 1865, I’m thinking about teaching the usual suspects:
Walt Whitman
Mark Twain
Jack London
Henry James
Emily Dickinson
Paul Lawrence Dunbar
W.E.B. DuBois
Gertrude Stein
Carl Sanderg
Willa Cather
Upton Sinclair
T.S. Elliot
Ezra Pound
Dylan Thomas
Ernest Hemingway
Robert Frost
F. Scott Fitzgerald
William Faulkner
John Steinbeck
Langston Hughes
Zora Neale Hurston
Richard Wright
Ralph Ellison
James Baldwin
Wallace Stevens
William Carlos Williams
e. e. cummings
Arthur Miller
William Burroughs
Allen Ginsberg
Jack Kerouac
J.D. Salinger
Sylvia Plath
Kurt Vonnegut
Dylan Thomas
N. Scott Momaday
Simon Ortiz
Oscar Zeta Acosta
Leslie Marmon Silko
Amiri Baraka
Toni Morrison
Rita Dove
Don Delillo
Sherman Alexie
Louise Erdrich
Sam Shepard
As for the authors assigned for my composition classes at Mary Baldwin College, the list is shorter but just as sweet:
President Bush’s speech on the surge in the war in Iraq
President Obama’s speech on the surge in the war in Afghanistan
Tim O’Brien’s “How to Tell a True War Story”
J.D. Salinger “For Esmé – with Love and Squalor”
Ernest Hemingway “The Big Two-Hearted River”
Errol Morris “The Fog of War”
Thanks to all those who have contribued to this list, and please, if you haven’t, contribute your own recommendations by leaving a comment.
There are things I do that make me feel bad and things I do that make me feel good, simple enough; but as I’ve discovered, those things that feel delightful in the moment make me feel incapacitated later while those things that feel sickening at the time make me feel well afterward.
Take, for example, drinking and exercising. I feel wonderful with an empty glass in hand only to feel the hungover consequences of such vices in the morning. In contrast, I feel miserable (indeed, vomity, but I’m not sure that’s a word) while jogging only to feel energized the rest of the day.
This is a lesson everyone learns sooner or later. What strikes me as remarkable is how easily I, and others I’m sure, forget what life has taught me.
Those of you who know me have learned I am rarely one to shy away from an argument. Combine my penchant for controversy with my goal to promote civil rights in the United States of America and you’ll realize I have no other choice than to weigh-in on the debate surrounding the proposed Islamic community center in downtown Manhattan.
As a child of baby boomers, I yearned many years for the exciting and culturally influential times of my parents’ youth. Today, living amidst world war and civil unrest, I think about the old proverb, “Beware of what you ask for”:
By VERENA DOBNIK
Associated Press Writer
While I will never be able, let alone claim, to empathize with the grief-stricken family members of those who were murdered on September 11, 2001; current events and the ensuing debate, which has led Time to run a cover story this week asking if America has an unbridled fear of Muslims, reeks of the anti-semitism and overall xenophobia that has plagued our country’s history for too long.
At the risk of fanning the flames with a rhetorical question, I endeavor to wonder: Why, instead of segregating ourselves along religious lines, we don’t focus more wholeheartedly on the dividing line that separates peaceful people from violent animals of all colors and creed?
Indeed, there’s something happening here, yet once again, why that is ain’t exactly clear.
After listening to Tara et al. play music on Tuesday night at Blue Moon Cafe in Charlottesville, VA, I was encouraged to return to my own music. Furthermore, on my way home tonight, my iPod played The Rolling Stones’ “No Expectation.” Feeling inspired by the tune, I decided to record my own version, admittedly with inferior recording quality; nevertheless, I hope you find it amusing if neither entertaining nor insightful as to my current state of mind.
To listen to the recording, click on the proceding title: “No Expectation.”
While looking for a place in Charlottesville, VA to rent during the upcoming academic year, I’ve been house-sitting for friends this week. I would say I’m also taking care of their dog, but Francis and my pup, Izzy, are taking care of themselves.
Playful bitches
Seriously, these dogs would play together twenty-four-seven save for the fact that I separate them from time to time to eat and rest. Indeed, they are a testament to youthful exuberance and genuine friendship. May we stay as forever young.
Supposedly, the mission was accomplished years ago; nevertheless, U.S. combat troops withdrew from Iraq last night.
Lest we forget, America’s conflict in Iraq was waged for too many years. Indeed, too many have died; and yes, we have another quagmire to deal with in Afghanistan, but one mess is better than two.
Like you, I am grateful for those proud soldiers who can return home after serving so many tours so gallantly in Iraq. Needless to say, you have served your country more than any of us previliged-homesteaders will know. Thank you; and while battles still wage on around the world, may we take this moment to lament those who fell so we may live in peace.
God bless.
Despite the risk of self-aggrandizing, I’d like to commemorate this historical moment in history with a song, “Upon Report of War,” which I wrote when watching (from the comfort of my home in Arlington, VA, mind you) the U.S. invasion of Iraq:
Pawns parade upon tv
Transmitted across the world
In real time
Nothing seems the same
To the pawns on parade
The pawns on parade
The pawns on parade
Again.
Digging in friendly ‘tories
The voice on the ground
Exclaiming what cannot be explained
To the pawns on parade
The pawns on parade
The pawns on parade
For You And Me.Are we meant all sights to see
The winds of war they’ve always whirled
In real time
YOU ASK
What cannot seem the same
And
I Say
The poor boys on parade
Oh, the poor boys on parade
Oh, the poor pawns on parade
AGAIN.
Filed under: Personal
Since high school, when I decided to grow my hair out, I’ve been mistaken for the following (or simply ridiculed as looking like):
Greg Brady
Bob Dylan
Screech
Sammy Hagar
(and, yes, just last night) Bob Ross
Am I forgetting anyone?
While in California, my niece and I wrote and recorded a song…click on the title, “A Boy with a Guitar” to listen to the end result. While the quality of recording is sub-par and the file-size of the .wav document unwieldy to download, the moment it documents is invaluable. If you know Olivia, I’m certain you will find the recording well worth the wait to download!
Needless to say, it was a dream come true to produce a song with the next generation of Kolakoskis.
Monday morning, Ryan and I took the kids to the local driving range, which probably wasn’t the best activity considering Jack’s hernia nevertheless it was fun for all.
Now grandpa Ed is really proud!
Later that day, Ryan, Beth and I went to see the Giants play the Chicago Cubs at AT&T Park.
AT&T Park for Jerry Garcia night
Steal-your-face Giants style
The team and the city celebrated the anniversary of Jerry Garcia’s death with the first-annual Jerry Day. Festivities included a Grateful Dead cover band as well as a stirring rendition of the National Anthem by Phil Lesh and Mickey Hart (neither the picture below nor the recording of the song, which you can access by clicking on the pic, did justice to Jerry’s former band mates).
Phil Lesh, Mickey Hart and friends sing National Anthem (click pic to hear partial audio recording)
Continuing the celebration, Jerry’s daughter (Annabelle?) threw out the ceremonial first pitch. Again, the pictures taken from my crappy cell phone are of low quality, but believe me, she looks very much like her late father.
Jerry's daughter throws out the first pitch
Giants' dugout
I was going for a picture of Tim Lincecum, who is my nephew’s favorite ball player, but I couldn’t capture the two-time Cy Young winner.
Poor-man's panoramic shot (great seats!)
In an attempt to represent the spectacular view we had from the fifth row, I collected four photos and pasted them into the same pic. Note, I’ve always liked to capture panoramic views this way as I think there is something inherently artistic about it.
Lou Seal
The Giants’ mascot, Lou Seal, was working the crowd all night. He’s no Philly Phanatic but not bad in his own right.
Lou Seal II
I went to high school with Javier Lopez, who was recently traded to the Giants. So, it was a dream-come-true of sorts, to watch him warm-up in the bullpen. As he walked back to the dugout, he tossed me a ball. The glove you see in the foreground of the picture below does not belong to me. I attempted to catch his toss without a glove and with my off-hand. I missed it, but fortunately a little kid caught the rebound. It’s the first Major League Baseball that I’ve touched, so despite my error, it was worth Javier’s effort…thank you old friend!
Javier Lopez (of Robinson Secondary fame) warms up in the pen
Javier tosses me a game ball
Happy couple at the ballgame
Ryan and Beth were perhaps the only ones happier than I to be at the game. Thanks to you as well for taking me out to the ballgame!
Bay Bridge at night
On our way back to the parking lot, the Bay Bridge looked majestical. I know the Golden Gate gets most of the noteriety but the Bay Bridge has its own charm.
