The Blind Side, Blink, Tandoori Oven, Bischoff Cookies

The Blind Side

Every time I see a sports movie advertised, I groan. Gee, what could this be–yet another story about an individual who, through pluck and determination, overcomes great odds to yadda, yadda, yadda win the game, yea, go team?

Yawn.

I enjoy sports, but only those where the outcome really is in question. Only those where I don’t already know the story. If I want a scripted win, I can watch some long-hairs and freaks on WWF.  

So you’ll understand why I didn’t rush out last year to see The Blind Side. What? A monstrously huge kid plays high school football as a lineman? Wow, he must have really worked hard at that. Is the paint still drying at the Zeyer’s house? Maybe I’ll go watch that instead.

And this was my response even though Sandra Bullock plays the leading role. I usually enjoy the movies Bullock stars in. Well, except for the last two–The Proposal and All About Steve–which I couldn’t bring myself to watch more than ten minutes of combined. But besides those, she’s probably been one of the most enjoyable actresses since Katherine Hepburn. This is because she actually plays real women, interesting characters, people with personality.

This is opposed to some actresses who don’t really play people at all, but are put in movies by directors who must think that if they can make the eyes bong out of male heads, those very males won’t notice that the story is dumber than a bag of rocks. These gals have lips that are so puffed up they look painful (e.g. Angelina Jolie, ouch, ouch, OUCH, somebody help her) or have seemingly nothing else to bring to the table besides their looks (e.g. Megan Fox, oooh, look at her shirt ride up over her belly, oooh, another shot of her eyes, oooh, white teeth), and so all their roles end up including very little besides posing for the camera so that we can see that, yes, Timmy, these women really were born with some mathematics, i.e. symmetry and facial proportions conforming to the golden ratio. Are your eyes bonging out yet, Timmy? See, that’s why you should study algebra and geometry. Math lets you do things like that.   

Anyway, so it was a Bullock film, yet I still didn’t want to see it. But my real-man brother-in-law suggested it for a date night, and so I reluctantly went to watch. (Date night as in double date with the wives, not him and me. Sheesh, you people.)

I’m so glad I went. The movie was excellent. Probably because it was not about the plucky athlete winning the game, but about something far more important and enjoyable. It’s based on the true story of a rich southern white couple–Leigh Anne and Sean Tuohy–who try to take a homeless teenage African-American, Michael Oher (“Big Mike”), into their family. Michael’s mother is a crack head. His father is unknown. Michael himself is not doing very well. He’s failing school. He doesn’t even have a place to sleep sometimes. And he’s got the good old boys of his neighborhood wanting to hook him up with their gang and drug scene. But Leigh Anne soon takes charge.

And, boy, does she take charge. She’s one of the most delightful characters I’ve seen in a long time. I laughed again and again at her lines and personality. She also made me think about what I’m doing with my life. This woman and her family did something significant. I won’t tell you what happened with Michael–blah, blah, blah, yea, go team. You can find out for yourself. That wasn’t the important story here. The important story, the one that touched my heart and funny bone, was the one about a delightful family who went way out of its way to try to give a complete stranger a chance at a happy life.

Go see this show. No, it’s not in the theater, but you can buy or rent it. Me, I get all my films via Netflix. If you haven’t subscribed, consider it. Then you too can feel the excitement of seeing the happy little red Netflix envelopes waiting for you in your mailbox.

By the way, I have enjoyed a number of other great sports films over the years. If you like The Blind Side, I think you’ll enjoy Coach Carter, Miracle, Invincible, and Cool Runnings (a Brown family favorite).

Blink by Malcolm Gladwell

We are told to make decisions based on logic, not emotion. Reason must prevail. The closer we are to Spock, the better. At least in our decision-making, right?

Well, no. That’s actually wrong.

Over the last two decades researchers have found that the vast majority of our decisions are made by our gut, in the blink of an eye. And even those we make consciously, we make with a large input from our emotions. In fact, people who have the emotion centers in their brains damaged seem almost unable to make good decisions. Give them seven types of apples to choose from, and they can’t seem to pick one. Ask them to schedule an appointment, and they’ll go round and round listing the pros and cons of different dates and times. Let them know one deck of cards is stacked against them, and they still choose to play with it. They have logic, but lack judgment.

The rapid, emotional part of our brain is critical for good decision making. Of course, out guts can often be spectacularly wrong. In Blink, Malcolm Gladwell explores both sides of the choices we make in the blink of an eye.

But this is no tome of dry erudition. Gladwell writes with fantastic simplicity, clarity, and power. He explains what we now know about human decision-making by letting us meet the psychologist who has learned to predict whether a marriage will last, based on just a few minutes of observing the couple; the tennis coach who knows a player will double-fault before the racket even makes contact with the ball; and the art experts who can spot a fake at a glance. He helps us see why New Coke failed, how we pick presidents, and how it was possible that the police shot down Amadou Diallo, who was simply coming home one night. He shares the story of Paul Van Ripper who beat the Pentagon war-gamers in a massive defeat and why.

Blink reveals that great decisions makers aren’t those who have the biggest brains and highest IQ, but those who have perfected the art of “thin-slicing”—focusing in on the factors that make the biggest difference.

The book was fascinating. Read it. You’ll start seeing the world differently.

The Tandoori Oven

While living in Orem, UT, Nellie and I got our first taste of Indian food. When we moved to the San Francisco area, we found a few Indian restaurants and really learned to love the cuisine. So you can imagine how excited we were when we moved up to boonieville Laketown and were told that just an hour away in Logan was a great Indian restaurant. So we followed the directions to the address we were given and ended up at the gas station just south of the USU football stadium on 720 East and 1000 North. And there above the gas station was the sign for the restaurant.

We both looked at each other and rolled our eyes. Were the people who told us about this kidding?

But I decided to just go look. Sometimes the little holes-in-the-walls can surprise you. Maybe in the back by the Hostess rack and chips we’d find some great food. I entered the gas station and found it run by a pleasant Indian fellow. I thought, dang, we’ve got our very own Apu’s Quiki-Mart (Apu being one of my favorite characters on the The Simpsons). However, there was no restaurant. I looked around and saw nothing but racks of normal gas station snacks. I was confused. “I was told there was an Indian restaurant here?” I said.

“Right over here,” he said in his Indian accent and pointed me to an entryway in the far wall hung with strings of beads. “Through there.”

Intrigued, I passed through the beads and did indeed find a small restaurant. They’d simply sectioned off a part of the original gas station. I also found that there was a separate door to the outside which I’d missed. I examined the buffet, which looked pretty good, went outside and waved Nellie in. We were going to give it a shot. We let them seat us, and proceeded to enjoy a fabulous meal.

The restaurant is called The Tandoori Oven: http://TandooriOvenLogan.com. Nellie and I go there regularly. It’s been updated since the first time we went and dished up our soup into treacherous styrofoam bowls. Now they use real cutlery, but the good food and friendly service hasn’t changed.

If you know Indian food, you can go in the evenings and order a number of dishes to share. But if you want the best deal, go for lunch. They put on an all-you-can-eat buffet which will let you sample a number of dishes. We love the kurmas, saags, vindaloos, curries, naans, and, dude, the spinach soup! Heck, it’s all good. Especially when we can sweeten it a bit with their tamarind or mango chutney. And make sure you leave room for their saffron helwa (spiced cubes of farina) smothered with cardamom rice pudding for dessert.

Bischoff Lotus Cookies

I recently performed a taste test. I got a package of Oreos and a package of Bischoff Lotus cookies, and I am here to state that the Bischoff Lotus cookies spanked the Oreos and sent them back to kindergarten for some schooling.

After the taste test, I had to force myself not to eat the rest of the Bischoff Lotuses in one sitting. I succeeded in lasting for two sittings. Yes, they’re that good—crisp, caramelized, sweet. They have none of the bitterness of gingersnaps, yet have enough spice to delight the tongue.

But these aren’t new cookies. The Dutch and Belgians have been enjoying them for years. Over there these types of cookies are called speculaas and are probably the most popular cookie around. I can testify they’re great with milk, hot chocolate, and Pero (hey, this is Mormon country). I understand they go great with coffee, even though I have not imbibed in that Aztec concoction and, therefore, cannot vouch for it personally. And for two years I enjoyed them, along with picturesque scenes of cobblestone streets, bicycles, and windmills.

When I came home, alas, I couldn’t find these delights anywhere except at specialty Dutch stores. And when we moved away from Utah, I never found them again. Then Delta Airlines started serving them on their flights. Oh, joy. But I don’t fly that often. So I’m excited to report that recently I was walking in Macey’s grocery store just across from the Stadium 8 movie theaters in Logan, scanning the packages along the cookie aisle and finding nothing appetizing, when the heavens parted, and a beam of light illuminated a white package with red lettering. I believe I heard a choir.

Bischoff Lotus cookies.

Could it be?

It was.

I heard reports they were also in Wal-Mart, but I didn’t see them there. So for the sure bet, go to Macey’s, buy, enjoy. And consider yourself Dutchified.

Share

Similar Posts

  • Why I’m gonna purchase Correia’s MONSTER HUNTER ALPHA on Monday

    I’m going to be purchasing MONSTER HUNTER ALPHA by Larry Correia on Monday.  Here’s why.

    Reason #1: Correia delivers the goods

    I read MONSTER HUNTER INTERNATIONAL.  I ended my review of MHI saying Correia was going to be a writer to watch.  Well, for those of you who haven’t been watching, not only did Correia  sell tons of copies of MHI, he also made the New York Times best seller list with his second book AND sold TV rights to the MHI series to a major TV producer.

    Why would his books generate such a response? Because they’re so dang fun. That’s why. And Correia isn’t just a flash in the pan one-trick pony. Far from it, as demonstrated by Reason #2 below.

    I told you in my review of INTERNATIONAL that I don’t read books that don’t suck me in. I don’t give them 70 pages to warm up and get going.  I don’t care who wrote the book. I don’t care if the author is a big lug with guns. I don’t care if he has status and money or friends who can put the hurt on me. I don’t care if the author is my girl’s godmother and brings me Walker Shortbread Rounds (which are evil cookies that exert mind control). If the book bores me, I put it down. That doesn’t mean that books which bore me aren’t wonderful. Sales and numerous reader exclamations of delight and satisfaction attest to the the fact that many are. It’s just that I’m a reader of little patience. I love it when a book starts with a bang and keeps me hooked. And Correia’s books do exactly that.   

    Reason #2: Correia’s getting better

    I read MONSTER HUNTER VENDETTA recently.  I should have reviewed it, but I’ve been so freaking busy I barely have time to shave or appear in public because I’ve begun to look like the Unabomber. But here’s the deal with VENDETTA–it’s better than INTERNATIONAL.  

    Yes. Better.

    Well, expect for maybe the opening paragraphs. The quote and first few paragraps that opened INTERNATIONAL are hard to beat. This doesn’t mean the opening of VENDETTA is weak. Heck, no. VENDETTA trounces the openings of most novels and steals their lunch. And then it continues to delight all the rest of the way through. It’s just that it didn’t quite deliver the same jolt as MHI. But 500 or 503 watts, what’s the difference?

    So with VENDETTA, are there guns? Yes.

    Monsters? Check.

    Action? There’s action galore.

    It appeals to my testosterone right off the bat (even though Larry reports that a good number of his readers are women). But there are guns, monsters, and action in a lot of stories that stink. What Correia does is not only give us great action, but he also gives us wonderful new situations.  For example, you will never see the scene set in the ghetto of Birmingham, Alabama that appears here in any other book. Never. It’s a Correia original. But even more important than great new situations, is that he gives us a first-person narrator who is delightful to be around. I’m talking about Owen Zavasta Pitt, the accountant monster hunter. His responses to the situations he gets in just make me laugh, as do a number of the responses of the other characters. My only wish is that Correia would tone down some of his language just a bit.  It is possible even when writing about military characters.  But you can’t have everything, and Owen’s such a loveable lug, I overlook it.  Hey, maybe Milo will help him out on that as the series progresses.

    Furthermore, Pitt isn’t the only character who I find delightful or interesting.  In VENDETTA there is also Holly, Agent Franks, and G-Nome, one of Correia’s best yet. Of course, there’s also the Doctors Nelson, the former hunter Carlos, Melvin the troll, and Earl Harbinger who have their own moments to shine. As do Owen’s dad and brother. And Dorcas, MHI’s secretary with the plastic leg. Heck, I even like Susan.

    So how many is that–eleven already? How many wonderful characters do most authors give you in one book? Two or three?

    And that’s one of the things that is is better with VENDETTA than INTERNATIONAL.  In INTERNATIONAL, as good as it was, some of the characters just didn’t get the stage time they needed to shine. But here Correia declutters his scenes so we’re not trying to focus on too many people. The result is that those we do focus on each have the their moments and lines. The other thing I noticed was that Correia deftly orients us to each new situation. For those of you who are writers, let me suggest you look at Correia’s technique in VENDETTA for introducing characters and settings. 

    Another good thing: he wipes out a Girls Gone Wild camera crew in the first chapter. Anyone who does that gets a few points in my book.

    VENDETTA doesn’t attempt to become bigger in scope than INTERNATIONAL (as if it could). Instead, it feels like another episode in a great tale. And I’m happy with that because it promises more to come. I’m back with characters I like and situations that make me laugh and magic crap that evokes some oohs and aahs and every now and again makes me wish I’d come up with it for my own use.

    Finally, VENDETTA leavens the humor and action with a couple of poignant moments. I’m thinking of a chapter with Carlos, another scene with Owen’s dad, and one with G-Nome.

    As you can see, VENDETTA’S packed with goodness.

    With ALPHA, I’m expecting to hook up with at least one of the gang for more exploits and laffs. Will Correia get even better? I have no doubt he will. But who cares–he’s already delivering great stuff.  

    Reason #3 Did I mention that Correia makes me laugh?

    Just didn’t want to forget that. Furthermore, I swear I read somewhere that laughter increases your health and makes you live longer. So not only am I getting a great read, I’m extending my days upon the land.

    Reason #4 Monday is a special day

    Not any old Monday. But the 25th of July.

    Why is this special?

    Because it’s the first day of the first week of the book’s release.

    Now I know I’m going to buy this book sometime. But buying it in the first week lets me do something I might not be able to do at some other time.

    Because Correia has given me hours of pleasure, I figure I can tip him for his good service by helping him make the best seller list again.  And a book has the best chance of making that list in the first week of release. (For those of you interested in how that works, Larry gives a good explaination here.) Making a best seller list does all sorts of good things for an author, and, as a result, that author’s readers.

    So Monday’s my day to leave the tip on the table and tell the owner to keep up the good work.

    The New York Times list is a good one. But I’d like to see him on the USA Today list, which measures sales so much better than any other list out there. My fingers are crossed.

    For those of you who are Correia fans or who have been putting off giving his stuff a go, now’s the time to either get MHI and begin the series or ALPHA and continue the delight.

    EDIT: After I posted, I couldn’t wait and just went ahead and processed my order. Pre-orders will count in that first week, and after writing this I couldn’t resist. Looking forward to more hours of laughter and some great characters.

    Share
  • Where the Wild Things Were by William Stolzenburg

    I live among ranchers in northern Utah, people whose livelihood walks around on four legs. People who can lose thousands of dollars of future income if they lose one good cow or calf. People who think one of the dumbest things to happen in recent times in the West is the reintroduction of wolves to Yellowstone. Now, I don’t agree with them, but I do think they have good cause.

    Contrary to what people will tell you, wolves do not kill just for food. Wolves kill because they like killing. If you don’t believe me, then believe Temple Grandin, an expert on animals, who asks the question in her Animals in Translation: “Is it fun to kill a groundhog?” 

    She reviews a number of studies done on animals and answers with an unequivocal yes, predators love to kill. In fact:

    “Animals like having their predatory killing circuits turned on, and will turn them on themselves if you show them how. When you think about what predatory killing is all about, of course it ought to feel good, because predatory killing means dinner. Killing a mouse feels good to a cat the same way finding a luscious ripe banana feels good to a primate.” (p138)

    What this means is that when wolves come to kill sheep, they don’t just kill one old and decrepit ewe. No, they do what they did on a neighbor’s land a few miles from my home. They maim and kill five or six. Not because two wolves were that hungry, but because it was fun and they could.

    Sheep are like popcorn to wolves. Compare them to elk or other wild animals. The reason why wolves tend to indeed eliminate the young, weak, and old in the wild is that those poor specimens tend to run a bit slower than their brethren. In the wild, slow means dead. For the wolf, it’s hard work to run down an elk or buffalo. And if you’re a hungry son-of-a-gun, you’re not going to go chasing after another dinner while there’s fresh meat in front of you because the rest of the pack will eat it before you get back. And you ain’t going to catch one on your own anyway. But sheep aren’t elk. Cattle aren’t elk. They’re bred for meat, not sprinting. Sheep are easy meat. And the wolves can’t help themselves.

    But even if the wolves exercise restraint and eat just one, that’s cash. That’s clothes for the kids. That’s a mortgage. That’s heat. And it’s a danger for children as well (adults I don’t worry about: who cares about a few devoured adults?). My girls like to hike. And while I’m sure wolves will usually stay away, a sick or starving wolf will risk humans just as sick and starving mountain lions do. You get a different mindset about predators when you live up where I do. When they’re not something you see caged up in the zoo or on PBS.

    For all these reasons and others, I couldn’t wait to read Where The Wild Things Were by William Stolzenburg. Folks, the book is fabulous–well-written and interesting from page one to the very end. The key point is that predators play a huge role in maintaining a healthy diversity of both plant and animal life in any given ecosystem. Stolzenburg begins with starfish and moves through otters, killer whales, jaguars, mountain lions, and wolves. Along the way he reveals just how important killing is.

    Yes, killing is critical to life as we know it.

    Because without it, the most dominant herbivores will end up eating all the food. And this will end up killing off most of the other herbivores. It will kill off the great variety of flora in any given system. It can turn a paradise into a hell as Stolzenburg illustrates with the islands of Lago Guri in Venezuela. 

    Of course, some people think the answer is to bring back all the big predators. The rewilding supporters want to populate the West not only with wolves, but also lions (African), jaguars, cheetahs. Heck, they salivate at the idea of giant Pleistocene bears that can run faster than a horse (yeah, I want one of those up where the Boy Scouts camp).  I think it’s good the wolves are back in Yellowstone. But I don’t want packs of wolves eating my friend’s herds and daughters (of course, maybe a few Boy Scouts are okay). Still, I believe there has to be another alternative. What that is I don’t know. But we all need to think about it. We do. And great way to start is by reading Stolzenburg’s book.

    Share
  • Good Stuff! 3 Remakes That Will Go Down Into Your Bones

    Sometimes a remake of a song is better than the original. Or if not better, different and equally as good. I have three that I think fit that bill.

    First is a mix of “The House of the Rising Sun” by The Animals and “Amazing Grace.” It was sung by Jerry Lawson and the Talk of the Town on NBC’s The Sing-Off, which used to be one of the best music competitions on TV. It was all voice, all a’capella, and the things some of the groups did were simply amazing. But then NBC decided to shorten it all into a one-night competition and basically ruined it by removing the multi-week build of the competition and, more importantly, letting us get to know the groups and hearing a range of songs. Oh, well. At least we got this. Turn up your speakers and let it fill you.

    You can get the single here on Amazon.

    The next is a remake of “Go Down, Moses” by The Lower Lights, who have taken this old choral and infused it with a new folk, soul, revival-style groove that makes me think this is probably how the song was originally sung.

    Every time I hear it, it goes down into my bones and calls forth this desire to sing. You can get it here on Amazon.

    The last is a remake of “Glorious” by Stephanie Mabey. This one was part of Meet the Mormons and sung by David Archuleta.

    You can get the exclusive free download of the single here.

     

    Share
  • Interview with Edmund Schubert, editor of IGMS

    I recently had the wonderful opportunity to interview Edmund Schubert, the editor for Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show, about How To Write Magical Works: A Writer’s Companion, a collection of essays about the craft and the business of writing that he edited. Ed’s someone to listen to. But so are the authors whose essays fill the book: Faith Hunter, David Coe, C.E. Murphy, Misty Massey, A.J. Hartley, and Stuart Jaffe. Here’s what he had to say about this book.

    John: Edmund, you recently edited How To Write Magical Words: A Writer’s Companion. It’s chock full of advice from some pretty successful fiction authors, and an editor who, having purchased one of my stories, has shown exceptional taste (grin). But there are a lot of how-to’s by successful authors out there. What makes this book different, do you think? What’s the special value this book brings to the table?

    Edmund: I think the biggest thing that differentiates this book from others on the subject is its diversity of opinions. Most how-to books are written by one person, giving on perspective, but the truth is that there are many paths to success in this business. The Magical Words book was intentionally designed to replicate the give-and-take that exists on the MW blog. Sometime the MW writers agree, sometimes they don’t. The other thing that makes this book different is that it also includes some of the follow-up questions asked by readers of the blog, and the accompanying reply. That makes this book feel/read more like a writer’s conference than your basic info-dump book.

    John: I think the concept is great. And the contributors have quite a bit of experience. I know you can’t comment on every essay in the collection, but are there one or two that stood out to you while editing?

    Edmund: There were a few that stood out to me. One by Catie and one by David, both on the subject of money/advances. Those stood out to me because of how very blunt and honest they were about finances, and it’s information I think more people need to be aware of.

    The other one that stood out for me did so for personal reason. Catie’s essay about Visualizing The Story made me feel so much better about myself as a writer and my chances of success, because for years I’ve been hearing all these other writers at conventions talk about how their stories are like movies in their heads and all they have to do is record the action and the dialogue, and I used to hear that really worry because at best I might see a slide show of of bits and pieces of the action, but I’m totally making the rest up. Hearing Catie say that she didn’t/couldn’t visualize the story that way either gave me hope.

    John: I’m sure aspiring authors are going to be very interested in what Catie and David say about money. It’s also interesting that sometimes we writers hear other successful writers talk about how the invention process works for them, compare our process with theirs, and assume we’re lacking. In reality, the way we approach it might be just as effective. That’s one of the things I like about this book—it has multiple contributors. Let me ask one more question. You see a lot of stories as editor of Intergalactic Medicine Show. What are some of the topics addressed in this book that, based on the biggest issues you encounter in submissions, authors would be wise to carefully consider?

    Edmund: Magical Words as a group have two mantras: the first is that there is no one right way to do this crazy thing called writing, and the second is the exception that proves the rule: the one and only true answer to everything is BIC. Butt In Chair. You put your butt in the chair and you write. You figure it out as you go along. And the more you write, the more the other advice you hear will make sense. You want to be a writer? Write. The rest is details.

    ***

    John sez, amen to that. And amen to this book. I really enjoyed the format and the insights shared. I never tire talking about craft and business with other writers. With over 100 essays and 313 pages, this book has lots to share. If you want to hear what some very smart and a few very published authors have to say about writing, you’ll want to pick up your own copy.

    Share
  • No. I’m Fine by Howard and Sandra Tayler

    Robison_Wells____Green_Hills_Photography_0-201x300Sometimes it’s the small things that make the most difference.

    Like sharing an issue you might be dealing with.

    I was once at a writer’s retreat at a home above the Sundance ski resort. I’d be asked to present to some of the other writers there. Robison Wells, who writes awesome YA,  was also presenting. He talked about marketing and plot, but the presentation that was probably most memorable was the one he gave on the obsessive compulsive disorder he deals with.

    He started off by telling us folks really didn’t know what they were talking about when they talked about obsessive compulsive disorder. He described it this way. He said he and his wife were sitting on the couch watching TV one evening. She said she was craving some ice cream, orangesicles, I think. He replied that he was craving banging his head into the wall. She anticipated some delicious ice cream. He anticipated some delicious head whacking. He then pointed at the wall behind all of us and said that it would feel so good to bang his head on the corner of the wall behind us. Needless to say, he had our attention.

    He went on to explain more about this condition and mental illness in general and urged us, when we wrote about it, to get it right. To be accurate. To not turn such conditions into happy-happy super powers, nor to make them into things to be feared.

    By the way, Robison had a fine little dog with him. Not some yapper to carry about in a purse, but a nice little companion. I keep wanting to call her Abby, but I know that’s not its name. We learned that his dog was trained to watch him and remind him to take his meds. It appeared that Robison would sometimes rationalize away doing that.

    Robison isn’t crazy. We didn’t have a dangerous wild man among us. He’s just a guy who has to deal with some kinks in his hoses.

    HowardTayler2So what happened next? Well, nothing. We had a great retreat and went home. But the story doesn’t end there. See, if an issue is taboo, it becomes very difficult to deal with it. As an individual, a couple, a family, a community. In fact, hiding something like this only creates more problems. For example, if Robison ever says he’s going out to pick up some hammers, we  now know that we probably ought to have someone go with him (grin). So Robison not only wanted to educate us, he also wanted to help bring mental illness out of the dark. And he’s talked about this issue in a number of different places.

    Howard Tayler, the cartoonist, heard him talk about the self-harm once. He saw the good being open did and decided to write a bit about some things he has to deal with. Howard’s got a tricky bit of depression he has to manage. Sandra, Howard’s wife, decided to add to it what it was like being married to someone with such an issue.

    Now, I didn’t know the Taylers had written anything up until last week at Comic Con. During the event a woman talked to me. In our conversation she indicated that she’d been wrangling with some mental crap, but that Howard’s comments about his had helped her. We continued with our discussion, and she left. On Friday evening after the expo for the Salt Lake City Comic Con had closed, I walked around the event floor, chatting with some folks I hadn’t had time to visit during the event. I stopped at Howard’s booth and said hello to him and Sandra. They were busy, and I didn’t stay long, but as I went to walk away, I thought I should pass on what the woman had said. So I did. I didn’t know what comments she was talking about. All I knew was that Howard had helped her. And I wanted to make sure he knew it.

    SandraTaylerWe talked some more as they tried to clean up their booth before Howard had to run off to a panel. Then Howard handed me “No. I’m Fine”.  It’s a little 15-page booklet that contains the title story, written by Howard, plus the essay “Married to Depression” by Sandra, his wife.

    The story is an excellent short that gives you the feeling of what’s it like to be dealing with one form of the bugger. The essay reveals a bit of what it’s like as the spouse and recommends some action. But the thing I found so wonderful about both the story and the essay was the example of tender love in the midst of adversity.

    I’m a writer. I can’t help but be drawn to potential characters and stories. The view we get of these two in this booklet is good stuff to build some characters on. Of course, that’s not the reason to read the booklet. The reason is because what they share is fascinating and tender—it’s good drama—and, if you or someone you know is dealing with these issues, it just might help.

    Go read “No. I’m Fine” and “Married to Depression”. You’ll be glad you did.

    While we’re talking about this, those of you who have been following this blog know that I’ve had a few dust-ups with depression myself. I wrote about it and the tools I used to deal with it then and when it tries to come back to town. After reading the Tayler’s stuff, you’ll want to look at it as well.

    Edit 9/14: Addeded links to “Married to Depression”

    Share
  • Good Stuff! A Different Kind of Prom

    The first time I attended a high school prom in Rich County, I thought the Rich County people were from another planet.

    I was married. My wife Nellie had grown up in Rich County, and said that we had to go to her little brother’s prom.

    “Your brother’s prom?” I asked. Like, what?

    “Yes, my brother’s prom.”

    Weird, I thought. Because in the big city, older brothers and sisters who have graduated simply do not go to high school proms.

    But I’m always up for strange new experiences, and so we went.

    And I can report that it was indeed strange. In the big city, grandma and grandpa do not attend the prom, nor do mom and dad or little brothers and sisters. And they most assuredly do not sit in the stands and watch the junior class perform a dance.

    But that’s what they did in Rich County. And so I sat next to grandma and grandpa who were nigh unto eighty years old and watched an announcer present the junior class. There was a makeshift stage. And the announcer would announce the names of a young woman and a young man. On the stage, the young woman would take the arm of a young man, and then he would escort her out to the center of the floor to the applause of everyone in the gym. The couple would then perform a little action—he might twirl her, or she him, or she might jump in his arms, or he in hers, or she might lift her dress enough to show she was wearing cowboy boots that matched his, or dozens of other little creative things, and then they’d walk to the side to make room for the next couple.

    In Rich County, there are only forty or so kids in a class, so it didn’t take long. When the juniors were all announced, the whole junior class, in their tuxes and dresses, spread out and took their places on the floor. A song began to play, and then they performed a dance that had been choreographed specifically for the occasion.

    When it finished, the mother or father of each junior went out onto the floor and danced a slow dance with their son or daughter.

    They then presented the seniors in the same way, after which the parents of the seniors went out and danced with their sons and daughters.

    Only when that dance ended did the lights dim and the “normal” dancing begin. Nellie and I danced a few songs, and then she said it was time for us to get some refreshments and go.

    And that’s what we did, leaving the teens to their evening.

    I had never before seen anything like it. I laughed and wondered. Those funny hicks, I thought.

    I took a job in San Francisco for a few years, then another in Columbus, Ohio. And then, years after that hick prom, Nellie and I moved from the big city to Rich County. That was almost thirteen years ago.

    This last Friday I watched as my third daughter was announced and walked down from the makeshift stage. She was escorted by a young man, looking handsome in his tux. I watched him twirl her and another girl (he got to escort two). And when all the seniors had been presented, I got to dance with my girl at the prom.

    I cannot tell you how sweet that was to look in her eyes, to see my little girl grown up into this beautiful, strong woman. I thought about how she was soon going to leave us, and tears threatened to spring into this papa’s eyes, but she smiled and said, “Don’t you dare.”

    What’s a man to do? I obeyed. And instead of blubbering, we danced.

    When we finished, I gave her a hug and a kiss on the forehead and returned to the stands.

    I’ve danced six times with my girls at these Rich County proms—once when each was a junior and once when they were seniors. And I love this tradition.

    I love that a huge part of the community comes out to the dance. I love that we honor and applaud these great kids. I love watching the juniors in their gorgeous dresses and handsome tuxes perform these beautiful, formal dances that remind me of something you might find in Victorian England, something that seems to have stepped right out of Pride and Prejudice.

    DSCN5281
    Juniors performing dance
    DSCN5296
    Parents dancing with kids

    What an excellent evening.

    How lucky I am that places like Rich County exist, and that I get to live in one of them.

    Share

3 Comments

  1. I really need to try Indian food some time. Sounds like lots of good stuff.
    For sports films, you mentioned my two favorites–Miracle and Cool Runnings. I think for this genre (and many others) it’s usually pretty clear how things will turn out in the end–it’s just the execution that will make or break the film. However, I have thought in the past that it’d be pretty funny to have the team lose the championship at the very end for a sports movie one day, just to see the reaction on the audiences’ faces. (Maybe if I become a millionaire I can fund such a disastrous movie.)

  2. But I think that’s exactly why I liked Coach Carter and Cool Runnings so much. Miracle and Invincible, well, those two were just well-executed stories. I’ll have to watch them again to see what worked so well.

Comments are closed.