What I Did Yesterday

I had a real nice Sunday afternoon excursion with Natalie, Ben, Tom and Andromeda, going for a nice hike at the Tillman Road Wildlife Preserve out in Clarence, NY. This is one of those places I never knew existed, but made for a great opportunity to enjoy being outdoors amongst the flora and fauna.

Benny was anxious to get in the water, and waded in the large pond that sits on the north side of the park.

Andromeda also spent a lot of time in the water, and might've even been interested in the same tadpoles Ben and Natalie were examining in the above picture.

There were a number of other folks hiking around with their dogs, so Andromeda got to make a bunch of new friends (which is why she looks so happy here, I think).

There were a number of trails to follow, which means next time I go, there'll be something new to see!

Political Comment

It appears that some right-wing radio hosts are calling for a boycott of General Motors as a protest against the federal government's efforts to bail out the struggling automaker. If anyone ever needed any evidence that these blowhards (you know, like Limbaugh) are not interested in the best interests of American workers, this pretty much clinches it. Despite their protestations that hurting workers is not their aim, it is exactly those workers who are on the chopping block should the company collapse. The hypocrisy of this approach is galling, but for anyone paying attention to the way these bozos have operated for most of the past twenty years, hardly surprising.

The Last Book I Read

I wish I had the time to read more novels than I do, especially those as striking as the one I just finished, which is remarkable in ways I know I'll fall short of expressing. I read a review of Roberto Bolano's Savage Detectives and added it to my reading list several months ago, but before I got to it, I came across an excerpt of his earlier work Nazi Literature in the Americas in Harper's Magazine and thought I'd start with that shorter work. I found it totally engrossing, both in its structure (essentially an annotated catalog of fictional literary figures) and in the way it gathers momentum as one advances through the sections, leading to a final chapter that packs quite a wallop. As there is no plot, as we typically use the term, the reader becomes an accomplice in constructing a narrative-- one that Bolano facilitates but does not really dictate (at least in a way consistent with other story-tellers). In the end, he provides a series of somewhat open-ended incidents that compel the reader to draw their own conclusions; that is, we're allowed to participate in ending the story in a manner that essentially puts us in the same "creative" position as many of the various writers whose careers are briefly sketched through out the book. No doubt most all those readers will gravitate toward an ending that suggests at least a tacit affinity for the violence and moral superiority that define the "Nazi" components of Bolano's rogues gallery of poets and novelists. Beyond that, it's also impressive for the author's ability to make poetry seem central to everything from politics to soccer: as his literary subjects move in ever intersecting circles of cultural interchange, it is through their poetry (or the support of others' work) that they define themselves, their social and political positions, and their visions for change. It really is a stunning book, and now I'm even more anxious to get to Savage Detectives and Bolano's last novel 2666.

Monday Morning Quotation

Today we have an astute observation courtesy of e.e. cummings (1894-1962), the poet who did not believe in capitalization (of the grammatical sort, at least):

"to be nobody but yourself-- in a world which is
doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody
else-- means to fight the hardest battle which
any human being can fight, and never stop fighting."

Heroes of the Small Screen

I admit that in this instance, I do not recall watching this guy as a kid (as has been the case with previous posts under this heading). But in doing research over the past few years on comedy in the fifties and sixties, I've watched a lot of his old programs, and become convinced that Steve Allen was among the most inventive and original performers ever to grace the small screen. He was also a great at recognizing and giving a forum to comedy talent of all stripes (he was among the few who were willing to give Lenny Bruce access to a network audience, for example), and deserves a lot of credit for helping launch the careers of such television mainstays as Don Knotts, Tom Poston, and Louis Nye. Here's a clip (which appears to be mislabeled as being from the Tonight Show, of which Allen was the first host) in which he has some fun with rear projection technology:

What I Did Yesterday

I spent a very pleasant Saturday afternoon at the SCA Renaissance Fair held on the grounds of, and in the park adjacent to, the Herschell Carousel Museum in North Tonawanda. I was there with nephews Ben and Nik, nieces Helen and Emma, and Theresa and Dan (who is a member of SCA-- and though not a participant in yesterday's events, evidently on a first name basis with virtually all who were). It was a really impressive array of displays, competitions, games, and crafts, which I enjoyed almost as much as the kids (unfortunately I didn't win any prizes like they did). While there, we saw minstrels, wizards and elves...

... mounted knights engaged in a variety of skill tests on horseback, including lopping off heads mounted on posts...

... a giant maze, which enticed Nik and Helen, although Helen seemed a little less constrained than Nik with regard to crossing the lines (which, for those who know her will not come as a huge surprise)...

... some intense battles in the fencing ring (as well as contests involving throwing axes and knives, archery, and crossbows)...

... and they even let the amateurs like us (well, not so much Dan) get in a few blows on the pillow fight bar:

And even though it wasn't really consistent with the Renaissance theme, we also went through the Carousel Museum. Here's a shot of the workroom display:

Last, here's a display of some of the products of that workroom:

I should mention that the bull at left was not a carousel animal, but instead was a midway game wherein contestants would hit it on its snout to see if they could knock it to its knees. If you look really closely, you can see the hinged joints on the animal's front legs.

I think it's safe to say a good time was had by all; certainly that was true for me (even though I didn't win any prizes-- and I didn't even mention the sheep toss...)

The Last Movie I Saw

Robert Downey Jr. is currently on my very short list of actors I'll go see in anything. It's not that he's always in great films (as say for example, Bowfinger), but he's almost always great at creating a fascinating character within those films. And frankly, his track record for picking excellent projects is actually quite good (I had to think for awhile to come up with Bowfinger as an exception). I was trying to think what it was about his actorly skills that make him so compelling to watch, and after really concentrating on figuring it out while I was watching The Soloist (directed by Joe Wright and co-starring Jamie Foxx and Catherine Keener), I think I may have an idea. Downey always convinces me that he's interacting with the other actors on the screen-- not just exchanging lines, but really engaged with them, almost regardless of the nature of the conversation. He displays incredible empathy, which in turn leads me (as part of the audience) to feel empathy for him, and give his characters the benefit of the doubt, even when they aren't doing such nice things. This is really apparent in The Soloist, which otherwise is a pretty standard fare melodrama with fairly predictable turns and results. But given how central the concept of the Downey character's friendship with Jamie Foxx's homeless man is to the plot (and theme), Downey's ability to make you believe he is connected to Foxx is crucial. That Downey can accomplish this kind of bonding regardless of the kind of role he plays-- whether as a sympathetic newsman (as here), a comic book superhero (last year's Iron Man), or even as a heel (Natural Born Killers or even The Pick-Up Artist)-- is kind of remarkable. It also makes the decision to cast him as Charlie Chaplin in the biopic of the comedy icon some years back look pretty obvious in retrospect. I don't think that The Soloist is as good as that movie, or many others on his resume, but Downey certainly makes it worth checking out.

Friday Night at the Ballpark

While planning my summer trip back east, I made a point of checking to see if the Gwinnett Braves (Atlanta's top farm team) would be playing in Buffalo or Rochester while I was in Western New York. It turned out they were in the latter city for four games last week. I was mostly interested in catching a game pitched by Tommy Hanson, the Braves top prospect, who has been blowing away hitters at every stop as he progressed to the major leagues. So last Monday, I counted uot the days, and compared it to the Gwinnett rotation and determined that Hanson's next start would be on Friday night in Rochester, the last of a four-game set. My friend Jeff agreed to tag along, and I was looking forward to it all week. Then, on Wednesday, the Braves made headlines across the country by cutting long-time star Tom Glavine and calling up Hanso to pitch for the big-league team. Needless to say I was quite disappointed, but Jeff and I decided to go to Rochester anyway as planned, and I'm sure glad we did.

The game turned out to be an extremely entertaining back-and-forth affair with lots of offense and some bizarre plays. Our seats, looking almost straight down the third base line were perfect for catching all the action, and although there didn't seem to be any real prospects on either team's roster (Maybe Jordan Schafer of the Braves), they put on a good show. Also, it was Little League Night at the stadium, so it was pretty crowded, especially with youngsters wearing their team uniforms. With the Red Wings trailing late, the team in the section next to wear we were sitting all turned their hats inside out into rally caps, but it didn't work (I hope that wasn't too disillusioning to the kids).

Frontier Field in Rochester was built around the same time as Camden Yards (Jeff and I debated on exactly when that was), and has a similar retro feel to it. In the picture at the top of this post, you can see the Kodak Building looming over the stadium in the upper left, and there's a train track beyond the right field fence; when trains go by and blow their whistle, you'd almost imagine you were back in the thirties or forties. They also have good food there-- I particularly enjoyed my Chicken French sandwich (sauteed in a lemony cream sauce). A great time at the old (well, not so old, but feeling that way) ballpark.

Sunday Morning Quote

Adlai Stevenson twice lost the race for the White House, and I wonder how much would've been different if he had won one of those contests. Anyway, here's a nice quote from him that I think matches my way of thinking on this particular topic:

"Patriotism is not short, frenzied outbursts of emotion,
but the tranquil and steady dedication of a lifetime."

Another One for Marenka

My niece Marenka (whose birthday it is today) is on her way to becoming a world-class bassoonist (no kidding-- she's just recently played in China), so I thought it especially apt to post this little clip for her enjoyment (and I hope everyone else's too):

Happy Birthday Marenka!

I don't think she's reached that age where she's trying to keep it a secret, but I think I'll err on the side of discretion and just say that my niece Marenka is celebrating a birthday today. So, in honor of that event, here's a mini-gallery of Marenka over-the-years:

At an early age, she adopted the style of the stars (with good reason).

She always knew Dad (and Mom) were there to lean on...

... and from an early age showed excellent taste in reading material (anyone recognize the book?).

She was always up for a romp in the fields (along with little brother Gerik)...

... and cleaned pretty well too!

Happy Birthday Marenka, and many many more to come!

Randy Smith RIP

I mentioned in my post earlier this week about the razing of War Memorial Auditorium how I used to go there to watch the NBA Buffalo Braves play. One of the prime attractions for much of that time was the great Randy Smith, a seventh-round draft choice out of Buffalo State College who became an all-star and, for awhile, the league's record holder for consecutive games played. I remember Smith as lean, fast, and smooth and in many respects he was the face of the franchise even though his tenure overlapped with that of much bigger stars like Bob McAdoo and Adrian Dantley. When the Braves, under somewhat dubious circumstances, abandoned Buffalo for San Diego, I pretty much stopped following the NBA with anything more than an occasional glance; but I wouldn't trade those memories from the early-mid seventies for anything, and Randy Smith was a big part of them.

You can check out the New York Times obituary for Smith, who passed away at 60 on Thursday, at this site.

A Quote for Saturday Morning

Christian Johann Heinrich Heine (1797-1856) was one of the esteemed romantic poets of the nineteenth century. Whatever else he wrote or said, he certainly was dead on with this particular observation:

"Music is a strange thing. I would almost
say it is a miracle. For it stands halfway
between thought and phenomenon,
between spirit an matter."

Classic Folk From the Sixties

I wish someone was writing great protest music like this today. Richard Farina wrote a classic novel (Been Down So Long It Looks Like Up To Me), then turned to music with his wife Mimi, who was Joan Baez's younger sister. They made some great music together before Richard sadly dies in a motorcycle accident. Here they are performing one of their classic tunes on Pete Seeger's Rainbow Quest TV show:

Friday Family Blogging Quiz

Pretty straightforward question today (I think): what is Helen peering over in this shot? Put your guesses in the comments, please.

Last week, I asked for a creative answer as what caused the expression on Catie's face. I received several fine answers, but I think I have to go with Sally's as most creative-- that Catie was slowly backing away from a possibly irritated bull. Kudos to Sally! And good luck to this week's players.

Even More Family Blogging (Mystery Edition)

Okay, this isn't the weekly quiz (that's coming up in a bit), but a real question. I came across this baby picture in Mom's collection and neither she nor I recognize who it is. I'm hoping someone out there in the family will be able to resolve this mystery for us once and for all (Thomas maybe?). Please let us know in comments. Thanks.

More Friday Family Blogging (Emma Walks!)

I don't actually have a picture of her in the act (she seems to think the appearance of a camera is a signal to sit down), but I saw Emma walk yesterday, and I'm told by her Mom it actually started the night before. So for anyone who's been following this ongoing saga over the past couple of months on this blog-- well, the long wait has finally come to an end. I'll try to post some video when I actually capture some, but who knows? By that time she may be scooting too fast for me to catch her!

Friday Family Blogging

Since I have access to my Mom's photos while I'm visiting her, I thought I would post some earlier generations than usually make an appearance in these regular Friday postings. So here's one of my maternal Grandmother, from about 1973, with her Budgie:

In a shot that I'm sure was taken the same day, here's Great Aunt Helen (and if you look closely, Budgie makes a reappearance):

Last, here's one that goes back a bit farther (I'm guessing from the 1940s, of Gramma on the back porch with Grampa:

Maybe Mom has some story behind this picture that she can share in comments?

Friday's Philosophy

Epicurus was a philosopher in ancient Greece (third century BC) who saw the goal of philosophy as a happy, tranquil life surrounded by friends and marked by a freedom from fear or want, That doesn't mean that he considered that sort of existence a given, as seen in this insightful quote:

"The flesh endures the storms of the
present alone; the mind, those of
the past as well as all of the future."

A Favorite Painting 32

Pierre-Auguste Renoir, The Oarsmen at Chatou 1879

Has there ever been a father-son pair of artists, working in different media, who matched the brilliance of Pierre-Auguste and his son Jean? Back in the 1970s, the University of Buffalo had a retrospective of the younger Renoir's films from the 1930s, and so I got the chance to see most of his work from that decade on the big screen. It was one of the experiences that contributed to my cinephilia (such as it is), as it first introduced me to the glories of movies made somewhere other than Hollywood. It was only later that I discovered the work of the elder Renoir, and by then it was impossible for me not to see the qualities that bound them together across the generations and moving from canvas to screen. There's a common spirit, a basic humanity to their work that suggests the influence of one on the other, or maybe something deep within their shared DNA. It's evident in the painting above, which reminds me of one of the first films by Jean that I saw way back during that retrospective, Une Partie de Campagne from 1936. In a way, it's easy to imagine the film as spinning off from the painting (though in fact it is based on a Guy de Maupassant short story). The clip I've embedded below lacks subtitles, but give it a look anyway-- you'll see the same sense of composition and expression of what I guess is meant by the phrase joie de vivre, that are evident in the work of Pierre-Auguste.



By the way, the full film is available on YouTube (with subtitles). Part one can be found here.

A Followup Note

Not to the post about Barney Miller, but the previous one about State of Play...

I neglected to mention one of the actors (or in this case actress) who made a strong contribution to the film, namely Robin Wright Penn. I wanted to single her out because she defies the cliche about how actresses past the age of thirty seem to be consigned to the sidelines in Hollywood. I know there are lots of examples of actresses who largely disappear at that stage of their career, and while Penn is rarely seen in high-profile starring roles, she always brings a high level of class and sensitivity to the roles she plays and (in my impression) elevates the work of those around her. She may be somewhat overshadowed by husband Sean, but I kind of see her as Joanne Woodward to his Paul Newman: pretty much equal in talent if not always equal in acclaim. Anyway, I just wanted to mention that, and should've in my original comments.

I Think About Stupid Things Too

Sometime back I was obsessing here about the floor plan of the WKRP studios on the old sitcom WKRP in Cincinnati. That was prompted by watching the first season episodes while I did my exercises every morning. Well, I exhausted those discs and moved on to Barney Miller, and there's something that got under my skin about that show too. If you'll recall the primary set, there was a chalkboard in the background at stage left on which all the detectives names were listed. When they came in to the precinct, they would move a little peg next to their names to indicate they were on duty. Here's what I think I noticed in a few episodes: the board occasionally included the names of Inspector Luger's oft-lamented old gang of cops who were all dead or institutionalized. He runs down the list fairly regularly on his visits, feeling nostalgic for the good old days-- his pals then were Brownie, Foster, Kleiner. Am I imagining that those names pop up now and then on the roster board? Or do their ghosts haunt the precinct, in forms tangible enough to justify their listing? I wonder... (which I find somehow more satisfying than going back and freeze-framing the episodes/shots in question).

The Last Movie I Saw

Last night I went to see the political thriller State of Play directed by Kevin Macdonald, and starring Russell Crowe, Ben Affleck, Rachel MacAdams and Helen Mirren. It's a movie that seems to want to be about something, but ultimately falls back on the genre conventions that propel the story forward but leave the message kind of lingering in the air-- like the phantom frame of some cartoon character who has just dashed offscreen-- only to fade and disappear as the audience hustles to keep up with the twisty-turns of the plot. I think the movie wants to make a statement about the core relationship between the press and politics in a democracy, and there's definitely enough here to support that theme (especially in the broadly drawn character played by Helen Mirren, whose primary purpose seems to be to remind Russell Crowe's crusading reporter of the financial and apparently political costs his work has on his paper and its stockholders). But the convoluted nature of the main storyline of murder and corruption in high places makes it easy to see that message as little more than tacked-on context, easy to ignore as you get swept up in the assorted love triangles, psychotic veterans, and stereotypical political hypocrites. None of which is meant to suggest this is a bad film-- it's actually rather good at that thriller stuff. Crowe makes a nice, rather low key reporter, grinding out the story, playing by his own rules, which seem steeped in a journalistic tradition practically defined (at least in the public imagination) by movies like All the President's Men. The rest of the actors do a good job, and a lot of recognizable faces pop up in relatively small roles, lending it the same kind of familiarity I always associate with the movies of the thirties, well-populated by great character actors (I can't remember the last time I saw Josh Mostel in a film, for example). So even if this misses an opportunity to be something truly deep and meaningful, it's an entertaining way to while away a couple of hours.

Thursday Morning Quote

Andrew Sorkin of the New York Times apparently believes that businesses cannot be profitable if they employ union labor (or anyway is willing to draw such conclusions rather flippantly on cable talk shows). It's a demonstrably ridiculous position, but not inconsistent with a longstanding anti-labor sentiment of the American media (itself, largely unionized). You can follow some of the kerfuffle sparked by Sorkin's witless comment at Talking Points Memo but it put me in mind of this statement by one of the founders of the American labor movement, Samuel Gompers:

"What does labor want? We want more schoolhouses
and less jails; more books and less arsenals; more
learning and less vice; more leisure and less
greed; more justice and less revenge; in fact,
more of the opportunities to cultivate our better
natures, to make manhood more noble,
womanhood more beautiful, and childhood
more happy and bright."

Andromeda Update

I finally got to meet the new dog in the family this past weekend. I mentioned Andromeda back in this post, but here are a couple of more recent pictures. She's really gotten quite big in just about four months. She's playful and exuberant, and also learning how to be obedient (as you can see below), so now I have someone else to play with while I'm home for my summer vacation ;-)

A Photography Question

I've been experimenting a bit lately with taking digital photos at night, and trying to get the best effect without using a flash (basically depending on whatever existing light there is in the frame). I'm using a Canon Power Shot A 570, which has a night-time setting, but when I use it, the images seem to come out with a kind of phony sheen. Anyway, these are two I took recently that seemed to come out really well, and I thought I'd post them for comments, if anyone has any ideas for doing even better. In the above photo, I had both the streetlights and the illumination from the Burchfield-Penney Art Center in the background; below just the streetlights.

I like the grainy effect (as opposed to the sheen mentioned above), but I don't understand why the tree trunks and pathway in the second picture have that green hue. If anyone has any advice on how to best capture such images with the admittedly less-than-top-of-the-line camera I'm using, I'd like to hear your advice.

Wednesday's Philosophical Nugget

With the publication of Silent Spring in 1962, Rachel Carson effectively launched the modern ecology movement. Here's a quote from that book that continues to deserve consideration, even more than forty years later:

"Most of us walk unseeing through the world,
unaware alike of its beauties, its wonders, and
the strange and sometimes terrible intensity
of the lives that are being lived about us."

A Neat Picture of Helen

I know it's not Friday, but I'm kinda pleased with the way this turned out, so I thought I'd share, and pose the question: what is the item forming the iris around Helen's face? Any guesses?

Then Again... Sometimes Change Can't Be Denied

After my visit to the library (see previous post), I strolled down by the waterfront and came across what will soon be the former site of the War Memorial Auditorium-- home to the Buffalo Sabres, Buffalo Bandits, Buffalo Braves, Buffalo Bisons, Little Three Basketball, many circuses and ice shows, rock concerts, and I even once watched a tennis match there too. I'm probably forgetting some of the many spectacles that occurred there, but you get the idea. They are in teh process of razing the venerable old building and I'm glad I got a chance to snap a few pictures before it disappears altogether.

All that's left is the west end of the building, where you can make up the remnants of the Red, Blue and Orange sections which were once seats behind either the net or the basket. I know the Sabres had the longer tenure at the Aud, but my fondest memories are of going to watch Braves games there in the early and mid 1970s. We usually sat in the orange (upper deck) seats, and the arrangement was so steep that it was like you were looking straight down onto the court. I saw such stars as Bob Kaufman and Donnie May, Randy Smith ( a local boy made good), Dick Garrett, Elmore Smith, and later (when the expansion team turned a corner and became really good for a few years) Bob McAdoo, Adrian Dantley, Jim McMillan, Gar Heard, Ernie DeGregorio, and so many others. My brother Nick and I were Junior Braves and one time he won a contest to sit at the press table and be a part of the radio broadcast with the great Van Miller (my Mom and I got to sit courtside for that game).

I remember being fascinated by those sound absorbing cylinders hanging from the rafters (did they have them at other arenas? I never noticed). The greatest hockey game I saw there was the Calder Cup final around 1974 or '75, with the Sabres farm team at the time (the Cincinnati Stingers) winning a thrilling game and showcasing a number of future Sabres stars (I remember Rick Dudley in particular). I remember too that my friend Dave Block had seasons tickets for the Sabres in a section that might have been that in the lower right of the above picture.

This is all that's left of the wide front steps that that faced Main Street. What a kick it was to be swarming into the Aud in a big crowd, everyone excited about the upcoming game or concert. I remember going to see Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band in 1985 (the Born in the USA tour) and there being just an incredible amount of energy and excitement in the air, everyone knowing we were in for a great show, waiting for the doors to open.

The new arena (where the Sabres and Bandits have already been playing for what must be ten years or more) is flashier, and bigger, with all kinds of technical and comfort-oriented amenities, but it will never match the atmosphere of the old Aud, as creaky and utilitarian as it was. It was one of those magical places that defined Buffalo, and the memories will live on.

Defying Evolution (in a manner of speaking)

Back in this post on one of my favorite paintings, I shared an image of this same building as depicted by Charles Burchfield back in 1929 (80 years ago). Above is a snapshot I took approximately 80 minutes ago of the same corner and building (which is now a coffee shop and sits across from the Buffalo & Erie County Library (where I am typing up this post). Although the surroundings have changed considerably, that corner building is remarkably similar to the way Burchfield saw it all those years ago. It's nice to know that some things remain relatively the same over the passing years.

Tuesdays Philosophical Nugget

Today's words of wisdom come from the great Greek storyteller Homer, who seemed to know something about how men approached life and their fates:

"Nothing feebler than a man does the earth raise up

of all things which breathe and move on the earth,
for he believes that he will never suffer evil in the

future, as long as the gods give him success and he

flourishes in his strength; but when the blessed gods

bring sorrows too to pass, even these he bears,

against his will, with steadfast spirit, for the

thoughts of earthly men are like the day which

the father of gods and men brings upon them."

Classic Video

It's easy to forget how great Neil Diamond was in his early days (and actually his two recent albums with Rick Rubin are a step back in that direction and away from the pomp and glitz of the last thirty plus years). Here's a great example-- a song that was one of my favorites circa 1970:

The Last Book I Read

Some years ago I saw a great debate on C-Span between the historians Stephen Ambrose and Patricia Limerick on the issue of heroism. Ambrose seemed to believe that important figures from our past should be practically deified, and whatever elements of their personal lives that in any way undermined that sanctified stature ought to be downplayed if not outright ignored. Limerick argued that it was overcoming their human imperfections that ultimately made them heroic, and to deny attention to those imperfections was to, in a sense, make their accomplishments less noteworthy-- after all, it's not hard for a god to do great things.

I was reminded of that exchange while reading Sam Kashner's memoir When I Was Cool, which chronicles his days as a student at the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics, learning about life and poetry from his own literary heroes of the Beat Generation, including Allen Ginsberg, William Burroughs and Gregory Corso. It becomes evident soon after Kashner arrives at the school that these writers whom he had lionized were riddled with human-scale foibles and shortcomings that caught Kashner off-guard. His story is by turns funny and touching, as he adjusted his expectations to the reality of living among the Beats and seeing close up the often messy circumstances of their relationships with one another and the rest of the world. In the end, the story he tells doesn't tarnish their image, but rather embellishes and enriches their mythological personas into well-rounded human beings, making their often transcendent work all the more impressive. Stephen Ambrose can have his heroes carved in stone, but for me (and Limerick, and I think Kashner too), the real people are endlessly more fascinating and no less inspirational for the fact that they aren't perfect.

Thought for a Monday

Felix Frankfurter (1882-1965) was a long-sitting Associate Justice of the Supreme Court, appointed by FDR and serving into the Kennedy Administration. He wrote many opinions, from one of which comes this nugget:

"Freedom of expression is the wellspring of our
civilization... The history of civilization is in
considerable measure the displacement of error
which once held sway as official truth by
beliefs which in turn have yielded to other
truths. Therefore the liberty of man to
search for truth ought not to be fettered, no
matter what orthodoxies he may challenge."