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 |   Tales from real life |
| Well, if they're not true, they oughta be! |
| There's a never-ending stream of advice about writing. From the mechanics of grammar to the art of storytelling. As authors, we're constantly being told how to write. I suspect that much of this guidance is prepared by procrastinating writers who are avoiding the 'real work' of crafting their Great American Novel. We're told about the story arc, the three-act format, and the journey motif. We learn how to use foreshadowing, plot twists, and cliff-hangers to hold the reader's interest. The importance of character development and effective dialogue is stressed, along with the imperative of 'show don't tell'. We come to understand the necessity of a 'happy' ending where justice prevails, especially if we want to turn it into a screenplay! Adhering to this guidance can produce a story that satisfies the reader's expectations and keeps them coming back for more. And consistency of 'product' is important in establishing a brand. But does this merely reinforce preconceived ideas and protect the reader from actual thought? The real world is messy and out of control. The good guys don't always win. They may not even be good. Cheaters often do prosper, and heroes usually have feet of clay. Courage is sometimes a mindless knee-jerk panic reaction that works in spite of itself. So, what about the story that veers off into left field? What about a light-hearted piece that begins as a comic spoof and then turns disturbingly dark? Is it an interesting change of pace, a sort of palate cleanser, or is it merely a frustrating betrayal of the reader, a joke at their expense? Discuss. |
America is a country built on genocide. This is not a popular idea, but it is firmly rooted in truth. Acknowledging that truth might actually strengthen our nation for the future. The genocide was accidental, at least at first, but an ongoing, intentional pattern has emerged, especially in the 20th century. There’s no disputing that European diseases ravaged the peoples of the Western Hemisphere. Estimates of the horrific death toll range as high as 90 percent. The Pulitzer Prize winning book Guns, Germs & Steel by Jared Diamond, describes this history in detail. Many historians agree that it played an integral role in the success of the British colonies in New England. The poorly equipped colonists arrived to find a largely empty landscape with room to build and little resistance from the decimated native population. It was only later that genocide became an ‘official’ policy. The Iroquois Confederacy controlled Midwest territory from southern Canada to Virginia for more than three hundred years. It was split by competing interests during the French and Indian War. The losing side ceded Iroquois land to the winners. The same scenario played out again during the American Revolutionary War. The European immigrants played musical chairs to see who would be master of the new world. The ultimate losers were the native peoples, left without a place to call their own. The formal warfare between the European nations ended in 1783. The spoils included the land to the west of the new nation. In 1795, the remnants of the Iroquois and several other tribes were defeated by American troops and forced out of the Ohio territory. A flood of land-hungry settlers, including some of my own ancestors, surged into the vacated area. This movement was so large and so rapid that Ohio became the 17th State in the Union just seven years later. Ohio isn't often considered when the heroic tale of taming the American West is told. The trail of tears is more tragic, and the subjugation of the plains tribes makes more thrilling movies and TV shows. But the eradication of the native culture from the Buckeye State was so successful that, today, there isn’t a single Indian Reservation in Ohio. Truly an American success story! But so what? Winners prevail and the losers whine, right? What good does it do to dwell on the past and feel bad about ourselves? The myth of American Exceptionalism has no room for unpleasant truths. It’s true that we can’t change the past. There’s no do-over and no realistic way to make amends for past sins. The only thing we can change is our future, and we must acknowledge the past to know that change is needed. Could a greater awareness of Native American genocide have influenced the course of the world wars? Perhaps it would have prevented the unnecessary atrocity of the Dresden firebombing. Could Truman have been influenced to give the Japanese military a demonstration of nuclear capability before the execution of two hundred thousand civilians? Who knows? Perhaps a public mourning of the loss of life in Dresden, Hiroshima, and Nagasaki would have influenced the course of the Korean conflict. Two million north Korean civilians would have been spared from a saturation bombing that served no strategic purpose. And it’s just possible that an acknowledgment of the Korean genocide would have made the U.S. military command think twice before killing a million Vietnamese civilians. Our collective shrug at the deaths in Vietnam certainly made it easier to kill hundreds of thousands of civilians in the Middle East. We don’t need to dwell on the bad exclusively. There are many bright spots in American history that deserve to be celebrated. But acknowledging the sins of the past is the first step to avoiding the sins of the future. Those who would hide those sins from our children are building toward the next genocide. And that’s the real tragedy, setting up our kids to casually perpetuate the sins of their fathers through willful ignorance. |
Ava was at her house, Rexy was inside. 'Someone' let the latch loose; the door swings open wide. Rexy down the staircase, Rexy running hard. Ava chases Rexy out into the yard. Rexy runs a circle, Rexy's having fun. Ava runs to Rexy, but Rexy isn't done. Rexy goes to Harvey's house, Harvey is away. Rexy finds an open door, rushes in to play. Rexy finds a workman remodeling the space, wants to make a new friend, licks him on the face. The workman laughs at Rexy, tries to send him home, Rexy runs around the house and steals Harvey's bone. Mama hears the ruckus, sees Ava run and yell. Mama follows Rexy to bring him home herself. Rounding up kids and pets, Mama's constant chore. Mama's biggest nemesis, kids who open doors! The neighborhood kids are a lot of fun. On one side, we have Evan & Desi and their huge dog, Harvey. They tried to name him Batman, but Mom & Dad compromised on Harvey Dent. Harvey is a good-natured lab/shepherd mix with an acorn-size brain. His only purpose in life is ‘see ball, chase ball, eat ball’. Heaven, for Harvey, would be an infinite number of bouncy tennis balls and a pelican's pouch so he could hold them all in his mouth. I once laughed at seeing him with a tennis ball in each cheek. Evan boasted, “that’s nothing, he can do three.” Ava & Wyatt live on the other side with their playful golden retriever, Rexy. He may never outgrow puppyhood. Rexy loves everybody he meets, canine or human. Between all the kids, dogs, and parents, there's a lot of coming and going through our big front yard. Some homeowners might get annoyed, but I just sit back and enjoy the show. Evan and Desi's family went out of town for a few days during a remodeling project, and the workmen left their front door open while going in and out. I saw Rexy bolt across our lawn, followed by Ava, and then by an exasperated Mama. Rexy went to visit his good ol' pal, found a welcoming open door, and was every bit as happy to have some wonderful new friends to play with. There's something irresistible about a happy dog. Everyone had a good laugh, Rexy got a lot of attention, and I wrote a poem for Ava. |
Shadow Prowler-Spreading Love   posted an interesting note today: "Note: Keeping my mouth shut has paid off. The last few w..." Her story of rescuing a large flat-screen TV from the trash reminded me of high-school days when I used to fiddle around with broken radios and TV's. Helpful folks from around the neighborhood would give me their cast-offs, much to my mother's annoyance. I fixed one once in a while, but not very often. At one time, I had a 21-inch console television (remember those?) in my bedroom. It had a dead picture tube, and I couldn't afford to replace it. So, I put a 12-inch black & white set (remember black & white?) with no audio atop the console. Yes, it looked pretty silly, but I was the only one in my peer group who could watch TV in their bedroom. And the sound on the console was excellent! For a couple of years, I had to get up and twist two knobs to change the channel on both sets (remember the satisfying 'clunk' of the big channel-changer knob?). It made channel surfing awkward, but we only got two over-the-air channels in rural Montana, so it wasn't much of a hardship. When I was a senior, my uncle gave me a fairly new 19-inch 'portable' that didn't survive a lightning strike on his power pole. It was the only thing in his house that wouldn't turn on after the transformer was replaced. He wanted one of the new color sets, so he wasn't all that upset about losing it. I found that the on/off switch on the volume control knob had been burned out by the power surge. I wrapped some copper wire around the switch contacts, plugged it in, and the TV worked perfectly. The only problem was that I couldn't turn it off. But hey, the power cord was easy to unplug! I always meant to buy a new on/off/volume switch, but never got around to it. I took that set to college and it was still in use for the first year that my wife and I were married. I was almost sorry to replace it with our first remote-control color set in 1980. Not! |
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