When I went to bed last night, it was raining.
I went upstairs about 9:30 and read for a while before dozing off. Wife had left in the late afternoon to go to Huntsville, with plans to go to Atlanta later today.
I heard it raining and thundering pretty strongly during the night but slept fairly soundly. A friend texted me just before 6 a.m. to ask if we were OK.
It was then I learned a tornado had touched down a few miles north of here. The damage is substantial, with eight people confirmed dead so far.
It's all that's on our local news coverage and it's sobering to see buildings and landmarks I'm familiar with that were hit.
We're no strangers to tornados here and our first responders are on sight. Just under 50,000 folks are without power. Relief stations have been set up. The mayor and governor held a joint press conference and apparently they've been in touch with the president.
Right now all we can do is pray for those who have been affected. I sent a text to a young friend who lives in East Nashville offering our home if they need a place to go. She said they were fortunate. They lost power for a few hours but it has been restored.
I'm on the board of directors for a local homeless shelter and life recovery center and our women's campus is without power, but the buildings were not damaged.
I learned a long time ago to respect these storms but I am probably not careful enough. I was unaware of anything other than strong rain until I got up this morning.
Down here south of Nashville we dodged another bullet. We're praying for our nearby neighbors.
Tuesday, March 3, 2020
Wednesday, February 5, 2020
A new low?
I don’t write much about politics here. Not anymore anyway.
It’s funny - if you were to go back and read posts from the first couple of years of this blog, you would think I was pretty right-wing at the time. And maybe I was, as I wrote in defense of Sarah Palin!
I’ve mellowed a good bit over the years and decided quite some time ago to dial it back with politics here.
It’s still a matter of interest, and I write the occasional political piece for the local weekly column I write. While I try to come from the perspective of an observer, my leanings have come through a time or two.
Interestingly, readers have accused me of being both liberal and conservative, accusations that have come with disdain. And I get a kick out of that. I answer all emails politely. I always thank the reader for his/her comments, and for taking time to write.
A few readers have responded to my response, expressing surprise that I would be gracious when their intention was to be critical and, at least once, downright mean.
The way I see it is I put myself out there and I have to be willing to take my lumps. Truth be told, I don’t get a lot of reader feedback and I’m grateful for most forms of it. And the guy who was mean was so taken aback by my response that he wrote back and apologized.
Mine is a learned behavior. Believe me, there have been times I wanted to fire back and give as good as it was given. (I’ve written some drafts in that fashion and deleted them).
I didn’t watch the State of the Union address last night. With it coming the night before the senators would be voting in the impeachment trial, I knew it had the potential to be awkward and I just didn’t have the stomach for it.
And I was right. President Trump walked up to the podium and handed a copy of his speech to Vice President Pence and Nancy Pelosi, Speaker of the House, both of whom stood behind him, as is customary.
Pelosi extended her hand to Trump. He turned around without taking it.
It was a classless move, the kind we have come to expect from this person who couldn’t care less about what being presidential looks like.
Some have defended him, saying he didn’t see her try to shake hands with him.
I don’t believe it, but even if that is the case, he should have been the one to extend his hand to her, especially in light of the circumstances. As the leader of this country, he of all people should demonstrate how, in certain moments, differences can be put aside.
But that has never been his style, and he acted in accordance with who he is.
At the end of the speech, Madam Speaker had had all she could take. As everyone stood, she stood, and she took the transcript of Trump’s speech and tore it to shreds.
And you know, she probably shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t becoming of her and she looked a bit childish. And she kind of brought herself to his level in doing so.
I wish she had just stood there and clapped politely for a minute, then made her leave.
But if I’m honest, I can’t say I blame her and I can’t say I might not have done the same thing. I hope not, but under those circumstances, I don’t know that I could have been as gracious as I always try to be.
It’s funny - if you were to go back and read posts from the first couple of years of this blog, you would think I was pretty right-wing at the time. And maybe I was, as I wrote in defense of Sarah Palin!
I’ve mellowed a good bit over the years and decided quite some time ago to dial it back with politics here.
It’s still a matter of interest, and I write the occasional political piece for the local weekly column I write. While I try to come from the perspective of an observer, my leanings have come through a time or two.
Interestingly, readers have accused me of being both liberal and conservative, accusations that have come with disdain. And I get a kick out of that. I answer all emails politely. I always thank the reader for his/her comments, and for taking time to write.
A few readers have responded to my response, expressing surprise that I would be gracious when their intention was to be critical and, at least once, downright mean.
The way I see it is I put myself out there and I have to be willing to take my lumps. Truth be told, I don’t get a lot of reader feedback and I’m grateful for most forms of it. And the guy who was mean was so taken aback by my response that he wrote back and apologized.
Mine is a learned behavior. Believe me, there have been times I wanted to fire back and give as good as it was given. (I’ve written some drafts in that fashion and deleted them).
I didn’t watch the State of the Union address last night. With it coming the night before the senators would be voting in the impeachment trial, I knew it had the potential to be awkward and I just didn’t have the stomach for it.
And I was right. President Trump walked up to the podium and handed a copy of his speech to Vice President Pence and Nancy Pelosi, Speaker of the House, both of whom stood behind him, as is customary.
Pelosi extended her hand to Trump. He turned around without taking it.
It was a classless move, the kind we have come to expect from this person who couldn’t care less about what being presidential looks like.
Some have defended him, saying he didn’t see her try to shake hands with him.
I don’t believe it, but even if that is the case, he should have been the one to extend his hand to her, especially in light of the circumstances. As the leader of this country, he of all people should demonstrate how, in certain moments, differences can be put aside.
But that has never been his style, and he acted in accordance with who he is.
At the end of the speech, Madam Speaker had had all she could take. As everyone stood, she stood, and she took the transcript of Trump’s speech and tore it to shreds.
And you know, she probably shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t becoming of her and she looked a bit childish. And she kind of brought herself to his level in doing so.
I wish she had just stood there and clapped politely for a minute, then made her leave.
But if I’m honest, I can’t say I blame her and I can’t say I might not have done the same thing. I hope not, but under those circumstances, I don’t know that I could have been as gracious as I always try to be.
Friday, January 10, 2020
2019 reading: fiction
Before I proceed with my recap of fiction reading from 2019, I need to make two corrections to my last post that summarized non-fiction. I realize this means little, if anything, to readers here, but I am just anal-retentive enough not to want a permanent record of inaccurate information.
So please indulge me.
First, I failed to mention a non-fiction book, "The Education of Ernie Dumas," by Ernie Dumas, which was given to me by a good friend in Little Rock. This one would be of little interest to anyone who never lived in Arkansas or followed the politics there. Because I grew up there and lived there as an adult until 1997, it was tremendously interesting to me. Dumas was a reporter and editorial writer for the now-defunct Arkansas Gazette, and was born and raised in my hometown. I thoroughly enjoyed this one. (With this, the number of books read in 2019 was 38 rather than 37).
The other error was when I said I had never read anything by Henri Nouwen until 2019. Soon after I published the post, I remembered a few years ago I read his beautiful account of the story of the prodigal son, "The Return of the Prodigal Son."
As they say in the journalism business, the writer regrets the error(s).
On to fiction for 2019. I read John Grisham's last two, "The Reckoning," and "Guardians." Say what you will about him and the way he churns out books, but I love his storytelling. These did not disappoint.
Years ago I read "Gilead" by Marilynne Robinson, but only last year got around to reading the other two in the non-chronological trilogy: "Lila" and "Home." I compare Robinson's character development to Wendell Berry, and that's high praise.
"The Poisonwood Bible" by Barbara Kingsolver had been passed on to my wife in paperback years ago, and was on the bookshelf in our closet. For whatever reason, one day it caught my eye and I decided to read it. It's the story of a missionary family that moved from Georgia to the Congo in the late 1950s and how it affected their lives. It's masterfully written and I enjoyed it immensely, but as I read I couldn't help but think Kingsolver had some kind of agenda, perhaps pertaining to evangelical Christianity. This opinion is shared by some others with whom I have spoken, and apparently it's even stronger in some of her more recent writing. It was still a good book, and I usually look past agendas, but let the unsuspecting reader beware.
I really enjoyed "An American Marriage" by Tayari Jones, the subject matter of which is exactly what the title describes, but specifically about marriage in the African-American culture.
A friend at work put me onto Greg Iles, a southern author who has a series about a lawyer-turned-writer (think Grisham-ish) who gets into some pretty outlandish and far-fetched crime-related situations. I read the first three, "Quiet Game," "Turning Angel" and "The Devil's Punchbowl." These provided entertaining, lose-yourself-in-the story reading and I liked them a lot.
Speaking of, I've read a few in Lee Child's Jack Reacher series, and last year added "The Midnight Line." I wasn't looking to read another, but when I was leaving Vienna last May to come home, I had finished everything I had taken to read on that trip. This one, in paperback, was in an airport bookstore and was part of a select group in English, so I picked it up to start on the ten-hour flight. It kept my attention enough that I finished it when I got home.
Continuing series reading, I am indebted to longtime and blog friend Kelly, who told me about Donna Leon and her Commissioner Brunetti series, set in Venice. I read three, "Death at La Fenice," "Death in a Strange Country" and "Dressed for Death." I read the first one not long after returning from Venice, which made it even more enjoyable. Like Louise Penny's delightful Inspector Gamache series, there are quirky, lovable characters and interesting stories with unexpected plot twists. I look forward to reading more.
And speaking of the Inspector Gamache series, I'm slowly making it through those, and read "The Cruelest Month" and "A Rule Against Murder" last year.
And finally on the series front, I completed "The Colors of All the Cattle," the latest (at the time) in Alexander McCall Smith's "Number One Ladies Detective Agency" series. Great reading and this one was as good as all the others.
"Where'd You Go Bernadette?" by Maria Semple was made into a movie last year, and when I saw a trailer, I decided I would like to read the book first, as I often do. It's great, and I highly recommend it, but I can't speak to the movie as I never got around to seeing it.
I still love to read anything by British author Nick Hornby. At an Airbnb I stayed in last winter, the owners had a copy of "State of the Union," a hilarious short account of a modern marriage. I read it in two sittings.
"Where the Crawdads Sing" by Delia Owens, a first-time novel by this nature writer, was a blockbuster bestseller last year. I'm usually not one for the "latest and greatest" and one that my wife builds up so much that there's no way it can live up to her hype, but I loved this. It's a beautifully written coming-of-age story about an endearing young girl who accomplishes more than she could ever imagine, overcoming seemingly insurmountable obstacles. That, along with the author's incredible descriptions of the South Carolina beaches and marsh, captivated me from page one.
I've read several by Charles Martin, a Christian author who writes stories with a spiritual theme without being preachy, and added "When Crickets Cry" to the list. This is a favorite among many Martin fans, the story of a man with a past who builds an unlikely friendship with a little girl fighting to have a future.
"The Most Fun We Ever Had" by Claire Lombardo showed up as a suggestion on my Kindle. The library had it available, so I tried it. It was one of those books in which I didn't like any of the characters, but I couldn't put it down.
"Summons to Memphis" by Peter Taylor is a great story about a Memphian who relocates to New York City, summoned back (hence the name) by his manipulative sisters to try and prevent their widowed father from remarrying. This was written in 1986 and was a Pulitzer Prize winner. Read it and you'll understand why.
"Boy's Life" by Robert McCammon was my favorite fiction book of the year. McCammon, from Alabama, is an author I would have never thought of reading, especially since he made a name for himself in the horror genre. (Nothing wrong with that, just not my thing). This one, however, traces a slice of the life of an 11-year-old boy who, along with his father, witness a car plunging into a river and a desperate rescue attempt. Against that backdrop, McCammon weaves a story that includes mystery, a bit of mysticism, and painful and poignant family life. I found it a bit like "Ordinary Grace" by William Kent Krueger, but with a different twist. I'm really not doing it justice, so trust me and put it on your TBR.
******************************
As a final comment, I continue to enjoy electronic reading (along with print) and I have no doubt it's the reason my reading has increased. As it is with books in print, publishers limit releases of the electronic editions. Now that libraries have gotten in on this, which is where I get most of my books, I have to put holds on some of the more popular titles, just as with print editions. I get an email when it's available.
The problem is, I might have a number of books on hold, and I might get several emails in a matter of a couple of days, notifying me a book is available for download. If someone else is waiting for it, I only have it for 21 days. Unfortunately that seems to be the case with a number of books I want to read. At the end of 21 days, I can buy it, but that kind of defeats the purpose when I'm trying to avoid that in the first place.
Oh well, a good problem to have, I suppose. I'll go to my grave with books still unread. But I have a hunch there will be reading in heaven.
So please indulge me.
First, I failed to mention a non-fiction book, "The Education of Ernie Dumas," by Ernie Dumas, which was given to me by a good friend in Little Rock. This one would be of little interest to anyone who never lived in Arkansas or followed the politics there. Because I grew up there and lived there as an adult until 1997, it was tremendously interesting to me. Dumas was a reporter and editorial writer for the now-defunct Arkansas Gazette, and was born and raised in my hometown. I thoroughly enjoyed this one. (With this, the number of books read in 2019 was 38 rather than 37).
The other error was when I said I had never read anything by Henri Nouwen until 2019. Soon after I published the post, I remembered a few years ago I read his beautiful account of the story of the prodigal son, "The Return of the Prodigal Son."
As they say in the journalism business, the writer regrets the error(s).
On to fiction for 2019. I read John Grisham's last two, "The Reckoning," and "Guardians." Say what you will about him and the way he churns out books, but I love his storytelling. These did not disappoint.
Years ago I read "Gilead" by Marilynne Robinson, but only last year got around to reading the other two in the non-chronological trilogy: "Lila" and "Home." I compare Robinson's character development to Wendell Berry, and that's high praise.
"The Poisonwood Bible" by Barbara Kingsolver had been passed on to my wife in paperback years ago, and was on the bookshelf in our closet. For whatever reason, one day it caught my eye and I decided to read it. It's the story of a missionary family that moved from Georgia to the Congo in the late 1950s and how it affected their lives. It's masterfully written and I enjoyed it immensely, but as I read I couldn't help but think Kingsolver had some kind of agenda, perhaps pertaining to evangelical Christianity. This opinion is shared by some others with whom I have spoken, and apparently it's even stronger in some of her more recent writing. It was still a good book, and I usually look past agendas, but let the unsuspecting reader beware.
I really enjoyed "An American Marriage" by Tayari Jones, the subject matter of which is exactly what the title describes, but specifically about marriage in the African-American culture.
A friend at work put me onto Greg Iles, a southern author who has a series about a lawyer-turned-writer (think Grisham-ish) who gets into some pretty outlandish and far-fetched crime-related situations. I read the first three, "Quiet Game," "Turning Angel" and "The Devil's Punchbowl." These provided entertaining, lose-yourself-in-the story reading and I liked them a lot.
Speaking of, I've read a few in Lee Child's Jack Reacher series, and last year added "The Midnight Line." I wasn't looking to read another, but when I was leaving Vienna last May to come home, I had finished everything I had taken to read on that trip. This one, in paperback, was in an airport bookstore and was part of a select group in English, so I picked it up to start on the ten-hour flight. It kept my attention enough that I finished it when I got home.
Continuing series reading, I am indebted to longtime and blog friend Kelly, who told me about Donna Leon and her Commissioner Brunetti series, set in Venice. I read three, "Death at La Fenice," "Death in a Strange Country" and "Dressed for Death." I read the first one not long after returning from Venice, which made it even more enjoyable. Like Louise Penny's delightful Inspector Gamache series, there are quirky, lovable characters and interesting stories with unexpected plot twists. I look forward to reading more.
And speaking of the Inspector Gamache series, I'm slowly making it through those, and read "The Cruelest Month" and "A Rule Against Murder" last year.
And finally on the series front, I completed "The Colors of All the Cattle," the latest (at the time) in Alexander McCall Smith's "Number One Ladies Detective Agency" series. Great reading and this one was as good as all the others.
"Where'd You Go Bernadette?" by Maria Semple was made into a movie last year, and when I saw a trailer, I decided I would like to read the book first, as I often do. It's great, and I highly recommend it, but I can't speak to the movie as I never got around to seeing it.
I still love to read anything by British author Nick Hornby. At an Airbnb I stayed in last winter, the owners had a copy of "State of the Union," a hilarious short account of a modern marriage. I read it in two sittings.
"Where the Crawdads Sing" by Delia Owens, a first-time novel by this nature writer, was a blockbuster bestseller last year. I'm usually not one for the "latest and greatest" and one that my wife builds up so much that there's no way it can live up to her hype, but I loved this. It's a beautifully written coming-of-age story about an endearing young girl who accomplishes more than she could ever imagine, overcoming seemingly insurmountable obstacles. That, along with the author's incredible descriptions of the South Carolina beaches and marsh, captivated me from page one.
I've read several by Charles Martin, a Christian author who writes stories with a spiritual theme without being preachy, and added "When Crickets Cry" to the list. This is a favorite among many Martin fans, the story of a man with a past who builds an unlikely friendship with a little girl fighting to have a future.
"The Most Fun We Ever Had" by Claire Lombardo showed up as a suggestion on my Kindle. The library had it available, so I tried it. It was one of those books in which I didn't like any of the characters, but I couldn't put it down.
"Summons to Memphis" by Peter Taylor is a great story about a Memphian who relocates to New York City, summoned back (hence the name) by his manipulative sisters to try and prevent their widowed father from remarrying. This was written in 1986 and was a Pulitzer Prize winner. Read it and you'll understand why.
"Boy's Life" by Robert McCammon was my favorite fiction book of the year. McCammon, from Alabama, is an author I would have never thought of reading, especially since he made a name for himself in the horror genre. (Nothing wrong with that, just not my thing). This one, however, traces a slice of the life of an 11-year-old boy who, along with his father, witness a car plunging into a river and a desperate rescue attempt. Against that backdrop, McCammon weaves a story that includes mystery, a bit of mysticism, and painful and poignant family life. I found it a bit like "Ordinary Grace" by William Kent Krueger, but with a different twist. I'm really not doing it justice, so trust me and put it on your TBR.
******************************
As a final comment, I continue to enjoy electronic reading (along with print) and I have no doubt it's the reason my reading has increased. As it is with books in print, publishers limit releases of the electronic editions. Now that libraries have gotten in on this, which is where I get most of my books, I have to put holds on some of the more popular titles, just as with print editions. I get an email when it's available.
The problem is, I might have a number of books on hold, and I might get several emails in a matter of a couple of days, notifying me a book is available for download. If someone else is waiting for it, I only have it for 21 days. Unfortunately that seems to be the case with a number of books I want to read. At the end of 21 days, I can buy it, but that kind of defeats the purpose when I'm trying to avoid that in the first place.
Oh well, a good problem to have, I suppose. I'll go to my grave with books still unread. But I have a hunch there will be reading in heaven.
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