At 6, my son had already read the first two Harry Potter books. He wanted to start on the third but we thought it was too scary.
After we moved to Northern Virginia, he found a friend at his new school who'd read the third and fourth books in the series and he convinced us he could try them without having nightmares. So now he's finished all the books and re-read each (and/or listened to the audiobook) more times than I can count.
I grew up in Jamaica at a time when there were one or two radio stations, but no television stations to discourage reading. I've tried to interest my son in the books I loved then. He dipped into the William books by RIchmal Crompton, but balked at E. Nesbit and Edward Eager because, I suppose, they just weren't exciting enough.
So the other day, when we went to the library (we go at least once a week), I got him books by Neil Gaiman and Daniel Pinkwater. He devoured both immediately. And this morning, when I told him there was more by Daniel Pinkwater--a lot more!--his eyes widened and he grinned with the anticipation of spending more time with that master storyteller.
He's a little too young, but in a few years I'm going to have to introduce him to Howard Waldrop. My boy loves Greek mythology. I think he's going to like Waldrop's "A Dozen Tough Jobs."
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
An Era Ends
This morning's Washington Post brings news of the end of Book World as a stand-alone section. Book reviews and news about books will continue in the Style and Outlook sections.
The section never really paid for itself--I know because I was a writer and editor there for about a dozen years--often running no advertising at all beyond the classifieds in the back. But for years, even though Book World lost money, the people who ran The Post supported it, believing one of the marks of a great newspaper was a stand-alone book section.
Times change. Now the failing health of the industry means newspapers can't afford grand gestures that cost money. It's too bad, and one more sign of the decline of the importance of reading in our culture.
Working at Book World was--for a while at least--a dream job. I got paid to read books and to write about them. All the same, for all that I enjoyed it, I'm not sure that in the end it was nearly as satisfying as writing fiction. (Which isn't as satisfying as writing it and seeing it published.)
When I dropped out of college in the late Sixties to go work in a record store near Washington's Dupont Circle, the manager was fond of asking how it felt to be in show business.
Sometimes, working at The Post, I used to think being an editor in Book World was like playing piano in a brothel. We made a lot of noise, but the real action was going on upstairs.
The section never really paid for itself--I know because I was a writer and editor there for about a dozen years--often running no advertising at all beyond the classifieds in the back. But for years, even though Book World lost money, the people who ran The Post supported it, believing one of the marks of a great newspaper was a stand-alone book section.
Times change. Now the failing health of the industry means newspapers can't afford grand gestures that cost money. It's too bad, and one more sign of the decline of the importance of reading in our culture.
Working at Book World was--for a while at least--a dream job. I got paid to read books and to write about them. All the same, for all that I enjoyed it, I'm not sure that in the end it was nearly as satisfying as writing fiction. (Which isn't as satisfying as writing it and seeing it published.)
When I dropped out of college in the late Sixties to go work in a record store near Washington's Dupont Circle, the manager was fond of asking how it felt to be in show business.
Sometimes, working at The Post, I used to think being an editor in Book World was like playing piano in a brothel. We made a lot of noise, but the real action was going on upstairs.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
What Was he Thinking??
I didn't catch it (though I read the transcript), but a couple of nights ago on Bill O'Reilly's Fox show, Juan Williams said Michelle Obama had "this Stokely Carmichael-in-a-designer-dress thing going," and claimed "her instinct is to start with this 'blame America,' you know, 'I’m the victim.' ”
All this, Williams said, could pose problems for the president because "people will go bananas and she’ll go from being the new Jackie O to being something of an albatross."
Now, I've known Juan for more than 30 years. We were students at Haverford College (he was several years behind me) and colleagues at The Washington Post. When Juan started as an intern at the paper in the mid-'70s (I was a copy-boy on the Metro Desk), he stayed at my apartment while he looked for a place to live. Over the years, we've wound up in the same neighborhoods--first Washington's Bloomingdale-Le Droit Park and then Takoma, D.C, where we'd see each other walking our dogs or hanging out with our kids.
So I've known Juan for a while. But apart from the need to be provocative so he can continue as Fox News' HNIC (Google the term if you've never heard it), what the hell was he thinking?
Over the years, too, I've had occasion to defend Juan to some (of our mutual) black friends. He's an intelligent man and an indefatigable reporter, though perhaps not an especially elegant writer. Like Shelby Steele (or Stanley Crouch) he's an iconoclast whose ideas go against the grain but are often worth listening to.
But for reasons I can't quite understand, Barack Obama seems to have stuck in his craw. During the primary and the election, he couldn't let go of the Rev. Jeremiah Wright, even when most of the media moved on. And when, with a few exceptions, most folks were praising Obama's speech on race, Williams was dismissive, calling it ordinary and saying it didn't go far enough.
I'm not trying to say that either of the Obamas should be above criticism. "Dreams From My Father" was a little too PC for me, and I wound up selling my first edition on eBay days after Barack Obama's breakthrough speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. (I made a ton of money, but I wound up giving it to the campaign last year.) And Michelle, well, there've been times listening on television where I've been thankful I never had to work for her.
But "Stokely Carmichael-in-a-designer-dress"? Or blaming America and casting herself as a victim?
It's been years since I talked to him, so I'm not the one. But somebody needs to sit down and talk to Juan to try to get him to quit putting his foot in his mouth.
All this, Williams said, could pose problems for the president because "people will go bananas and she’ll go from being the new Jackie O to being something of an albatross."
Now, I've known Juan for more than 30 years. We were students at Haverford College (he was several years behind me) and colleagues at The Washington Post. When Juan started as an intern at the paper in the mid-'70s (I was a copy-boy on the Metro Desk), he stayed at my apartment while he looked for a place to live. Over the years, we've wound up in the same neighborhoods--first Washington's Bloomingdale-Le Droit Park and then Takoma, D.C, where we'd see each other walking our dogs or hanging out with our kids.
So I've known Juan for a while. But apart from the need to be provocative so he can continue as Fox News' HNIC (Google the term if you've never heard it), what the hell was he thinking?
Over the years, too, I've had occasion to defend Juan to some (of our mutual) black friends. He's an intelligent man and an indefatigable reporter, though perhaps not an especially elegant writer. Like Shelby Steele (or Stanley Crouch) he's an iconoclast whose ideas go against the grain but are often worth listening to.
But for reasons I can't quite understand, Barack Obama seems to have stuck in his craw. During the primary and the election, he couldn't let go of the Rev. Jeremiah Wright, even when most of the media moved on. And when, with a few exceptions, most folks were praising Obama's speech on race, Williams was dismissive, calling it ordinary and saying it didn't go far enough.
I'm not trying to say that either of the Obamas should be above criticism. "Dreams From My Father" was a little too PC for me, and I wound up selling my first edition on eBay days after Barack Obama's breakthrough speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. (I made a ton of money, but I wound up giving it to the campaign last year.) And Michelle, well, there've been times listening on television where I've been thankful I never had to work for her.
But "Stokely Carmichael-in-a-designer-dress"? Or blaming America and casting herself as a victim?
It's been years since I talked to him, so I'm not the one. But somebody needs to sit down and talk to Juan to try to get him to quit putting his foot in his mouth.
The Value of Service
For a while now, I've been wondering if the all-volunteer military is a good thing. I turned 18 during the Vietnam War, but my draft number was 303 and, because the lottery didn't go that high, I didn't have to decide choose between serving, applying to be a conscientious objector, or going to Canada.
At the time, I thought the draft unfair. Forty years later, I'm not so sure.
There's value in service, which is why when Barack Obama finishes dealing with the economic mess, I hope he follows through on his campaign promise to push for a bill requiring some form of national service for everybody.
Everyone ought to perform some kind of service to the country, working in a hospital or teaching in an inner-city or rural school, particularly now when we face so many problems. But I've come to think it especially important we share the burden of defending America. When I read an editorial or op-ed in The Wall Street Journal supporting the war in Afghanistan or Iran, I always wonder how many people on the editorial board have a child in the military, or even know someone who does.
(I think the same thing when I read The New York Times or The Washington Post.)
There's this too: I wonder what it means long-term for our military--and our country--when so many recruits fail to meet basic educational standards. Time magazine has a story about how only 71 percent of recruits had high school diplomas in 2007, as compared with more than 85 percent just two years before.
Worse, it seems to me, is that the percentage of so-called high-quality recruits--those with a high school diploma and scoring in the 50th percentile of the Armed Forces Qualification Test--dropped from 56.2 percent in 2005 to 44.6 percent in 2007.
The Department of Defense wants 90 percent of its recruits to have a high school diploma or better. Those who do are more likely to finish their first term of enlistment. About half of those who don't drop out before finishing their first enlistment.
Some numbers I came across from The National Priorities Project supported something I've suspected for a long time. Most recruits come from families with incomes of $30,000-54,999. Few come from families with incomes of more than $60,000 a year.
No one in the Department of Defense would put it like this, but don't all these numbers seem to say we're getting a dumber, poorer service?
At the time, I thought the draft unfair. Forty years later, I'm not so sure.
There's value in service, which is why when Barack Obama finishes dealing with the economic mess, I hope he follows through on his campaign promise to push for a bill requiring some form of national service for everybody.
Everyone ought to perform some kind of service to the country, working in a hospital or teaching in an inner-city or rural school, particularly now when we face so many problems. But I've come to think it especially important we share the burden of defending America. When I read an editorial or op-ed in The Wall Street Journal supporting the war in Afghanistan or Iran, I always wonder how many people on the editorial board have a child in the military, or even know someone who does.
(I think the same thing when I read The New York Times or The Washington Post.)
There's this too: I wonder what it means long-term for our military--and our country--when so many recruits fail to meet basic educational standards. Time magazine has a story about how only 71 percent of recruits had high school diplomas in 2007, as compared with more than 85 percent just two years before.
Worse, it seems to me, is that the percentage of so-called high-quality recruits--those with a high school diploma and scoring in the 50th percentile of the Armed Forces Qualification Test--dropped from 56.2 percent in 2005 to 44.6 percent in 2007.
The Department of Defense wants 90 percent of its recruits to have a high school diploma or better. Those who do are more likely to finish their first term of enlistment. About half of those who don't drop out before finishing their first enlistment.
Some numbers I came across from The National Priorities Project supported something I've suspected for a long time. Most recruits come from families with incomes of $30,000-54,999. Few come from families with incomes of more than $60,000 a year.
No one in the Department of Defense would put it like this, but don't all these numbers seem to say we're getting a dumber, poorer service?
New York, New York
Just back from four days in New York, where my wife and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary
We stayed in a small boutique hotel called The Library Hotel, where each floor--and each room--is dedicated to a particular category of book using the Dewey Decimal System.
We were on the fourth floor (400 is Languages in the DDS), in a room with translations from Greek and Roman and books about Egyptian hieroglyphics.
Saturday night, we went to see David Mamet's "Speed-the-Plow." I'd wanted to see it when Jeremy Piven played the lead, but he'd been replaced by William H. Macy. The play was three acts with no intermission. I could have taken another half-hour of Mamet's trade-mark dialog.
Sunday, we saw Will Ferrell's one-man show, "You’re Welcome America: A Final Night with George W. Bush."It struck me as a "Saturday Night Live" skit on steroids and, while I'm no admirer of George Bush, I felt a little uncomfortable at Ferrell's portrayal, being old fashioned enough to think we should respect the office, if not the man. I laughed, but a little while later at dinner, I couldn't quite remember why.
But I was so taken with this line from Mamet's play--"It's just words, unless they're true"--I wrote it down as we were leaving the theater.
We stayed in a small boutique hotel called The Library Hotel, where each floor--and each room--is dedicated to a particular category of book using the Dewey Decimal System.
We were on the fourth floor (400 is Languages in the DDS), in a room with translations from Greek and Roman and books about Egyptian hieroglyphics.
Saturday night, we went to see David Mamet's "Speed-the-Plow." I'd wanted to see it when Jeremy Piven played the lead, but he'd been replaced by William H. Macy. The play was three acts with no intermission. I could have taken another half-hour of Mamet's trade-mark dialog.
Sunday, we saw Will Ferrell's one-man show, "You’re Welcome America: A Final Night with George W. Bush."It struck me as a "Saturday Night Live" skit on steroids and, while I'm no admirer of George Bush, I felt a little uncomfortable at Ferrell's portrayal, being old fashioned enough to think we should respect the office, if not the man. I laughed, but a little while later at dinner, I couldn't quite remember why.
But I was so taken with this line from Mamet's play--"It's just words, unless they're true"--I wrote it down as we were leaving the theater.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
A President For a Mulatto Nation
We decided weeks ago we weren't going to the inaugural. Of course, we'd like to have been there for the historic moment, but getting there and the crowds would have been too much for our 8-year-old, so we wound up watching the swearing-in ceremony on television.
Of course, I was moved, but watching Barack Obama take the oath of office seemed almost anti-climactic compared with the drama of the primary. The suspense was unbearable. I checked the polls on-line several times a day, went again and again to the news sites I'd bookmarked, stayed up late watching Keith Olberman and, yes, sometimes Fox News.
Then, too, I'd canvassed for Obama--not much, but I did--and had a couple of telling moments. At one house, I told an elderly Pakistani couple they should consider voting early to avoid long lines. "Oh no," the woman replied. "We just got our citizenship. This is our first election, and we want to do it in person."
A week or so later, another man (also Pakistani, I think) refused to tell me who he'd vote for till he saw my Obama button. Then his face lit up and he said he'd be voting for "the right person." Something about the way he said it made me think he'd come from a place where it could be dangerous to say you'd vote for the wrong person.
Both were moments where I understood how precious it is to be an American.
I had some of the same feelings watching the "We Are One" concert at the Lincoln Memorial the day before the inauguration. We are a deeply flawed nation with--as the filmmaker Charles Burnett once put it to me--"a difficult history."
And yet, as the then-pending inauguration reminded me, there are times when we get it right. Many of the Founding Fathers were guilty of the grievous sin of slavery, but they also created the institutions that would, in the end, admit black Americans to full participation in the American Experiment.
It wasn't just the speeches recalling the words of Washington or Lincoln or the example of heroes of the Civil Rights Movement like Rosa Parks; it was also Garth Brooks doing the Isley Brothers' "Shout," Jon Bon Jovi channeling Sam Cooke in his duet with Betty Lavette on "A Change is Gonna Come," Shakira's gospel-tinged wails on Stevie Wonder's "Higher Ground."
In the beginning, the only Americans were Native Americans, but once Africans and Europeans encountered each other here, each began the process of making the other American.
We are, as Ralph Ellison and others have observed, a mulatto nation. And now we have a president who truly embodies it.
Of course, I was moved, but watching Barack Obama take the oath of office seemed almost anti-climactic compared with the drama of the primary. The suspense was unbearable. I checked the polls on-line several times a day, went again and again to the news sites I'd bookmarked, stayed up late watching Keith Olberman and, yes, sometimes Fox News.
Then, too, I'd canvassed for Obama--not much, but I did--and had a couple of telling moments. At one house, I told an elderly Pakistani couple they should consider voting early to avoid long lines. "Oh no," the woman replied. "We just got our citizenship. This is our first election, and we want to do it in person."
A week or so later, another man (also Pakistani, I think) refused to tell me who he'd vote for till he saw my Obama button. Then his face lit up and he said he'd be voting for "the right person." Something about the way he said it made me think he'd come from a place where it could be dangerous to say you'd vote for the wrong person.
Both were moments where I understood how precious it is to be an American.
I had some of the same feelings watching the "We Are One" concert at the Lincoln Memorial the day before the inauguration. We are a deeply flawed nation with--as the filmmaker Charles Burnett once put it to me--"a difficult history."
And yet, as the then-pending inauguration reminded me, there are times when we get it right. Many of the Founding Fathers were guilty of the grievous sin of slavery, but they also created the institutions that would, in the end, admit black Americans to full participation in the American Experiment.
It wasn't just the speeches recalling the words of Washington or Lincoln or the example of heroes of the Civil Rights Movement like Rosa Parks; it was also Garth Brooks doing the Isley Brothers' "Shout," Jon Bon Jovi channeling Sam Cooke in his duet with Betty Lavette on "A Change is Gonna Come," Shakira's gospel-tinged wails on Stevie Wonder's "Higher Ground."
In the beginning, the only Americans were Native Americans, but once Africans and Europeans encountered each other here, each began the process of making the other American.
We are, as Ralph Ellison and others have observed, a mulatto nation. And now we have a president who truly embodies it.
How's That Again?
Sarah Palin, Alaska governor and (Yes, there is a God!) unsuccessful candidate for the vice-presidency, has a piece in today's Wall Street Journal, part of a "symposium" headlined "Hopes for the Obama Presidency." (Other contributors include the ever-dyspeptic Shelby Steele, Newt Gingrich, George McGovern, and Al Sharpton.)
I was all set to write a snarky post asking who'd written Palin's entry. After watching her on the campaign trail, I'd come to believe her constitutionally allergic to coherent sentences.
Then I read the piece again. Here's the first sentence: "Especially evident in these trying economic times is America's need for affordable, abundant and secure energy."
Yup. She wrote it.
Read the entire piece here (if you dare).
I was all set to write a snarky post asking who'd written Palin's entry. After watching her on the campaign trail, I'd come to believe her constitutionally allergic to coherent sentences.
Then I read the piece again. Here's the first sentence: "Especially evident in these trying economic times is America's need for affordable, abundant and secure energy."
Yup. She wrote it.
Read the entire piece here (if you dare).
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