Uncivil Discourse

I am outraged at the conduct of some of the people at what are intended as informative town hall style meetings held by our senators and representatives during their "vacation" from Washington. Those who attend to learn about the proposed plans for health care reform and ask questions may as well stay home. Only the person who can shout the loudest will have the floor and no one will learn a thing.

These red-faced, arrogant idiots ride roughshod over everyone else in the apparent belief that their opinion, right or wrong, is all that's important. The other taxpaying citizens in the room don't even exist for them, even if they happen to agree with that particular view. Meanwhile, the shouters are the feature of media reports about the meetings in lieu of anything constructive because reporters can't learn anything either.

For many years my self-employed husband and I paid ever-increasing health insurance premiums for ever-decreasing coverage, and I fought with our insurance company many times - sometimes successfully because I was polite but persistent. The last few years we've been on Medicare and a supplement and happily so. Heavens, a government-run health insurance program! We chose our own doctors and hospitals and enjoy excellent care. The scare tactics of people who obviously have employer-paid health insurance don't bother us at all.

I had thought that I would attend if a town hall meeting were held in our area, but after seeing such travesties on television and reading about them, I won't go. I would want to learn something and that obviously wouldn't be in the cards.

Whatever happened to civil discourse? People seem to make up their minds by listening to the most ill-informed, biased, so-called expert they can find and then refuse to listen to reason. We've become a nation of "sides" with nobody willing to discuss, listen to another viewpoint, compromise, or negotiate to achieve a common ground.

When I have a strong opinion about government policy or programs, which is often, I write or call my senator or representative or even the president. If I'm angry, I say so, but keep my comments reasonable. I usually get an explanatory messsage in reply. Don't these shouting boors realize no one ever listens to them? Their way guarantees that they won't get their point across. Unfortunately they may also manage to keep needed reform from being passed.

I can only hope civil discourse will come back into vogue in my lifetime, but I won't hold my breath waiting for that to happen.

See "Julie and Julia" for Good Laugh

Who of us doesn't need a good laugh in these uncertain times? Solution: See "Julie and Julia" ASAP.

Meryl Streep is brilliant in this and I very much liked Amy Adams as Julie as well. Despite some critics' unhappiness with the casting of the two husbands, I thought they were just right. I don't know how long the movie is but the time just raced away and before you could say "Bon Appetit!" it was over.

It brought back nice memories of my father. We shared a few physical characteristics, a love of learning, and an offbeat sense of humor, but he was impossible to get close to, silent, and standoffish. Every week, though, we watched Julia Child's TV show together. No sooner did she open her mouth than we were laughing, and we didn't stop until after her signature close of "Bon Appetit!"

Finally I developed a pretty fair imitation of Julia which was guaranteed to make my father break up. We loved her clumsiness, her "careful measuring" of the wine, flour all over her kitchen, and the way she absentmindedly patted a chicken as she explained what she intended to do with it.

Best of all, Julia Child was herself, no matter what, which is what makes Meryl Streeps's characterization of her so funny in this movie. I also appreciated how the movie showed the fact that she and her husband Paul absolutely adored each other and were always supportive of each other. Strangely enough, I hadn't realized Paul Child came under suspicion during the McCarthy era and how his diplomatic career went downhill afterward even though he was cleared.

The parallel story of Julie Powell and her husband was charming and funny. Having tried a couple of Julia Child's recipes myself many years ago, I know how difficult they are. I can only admire someone who managed to cook every recipe in "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" while holding down a full-time job, a husband, and a cat. Bravo!

My Favorite Book Sale

All year I look forward to the first Friday in August. The Blueberry Festival in Montrose, PA runs that Friday and Saturday as a benefit for the county library system and historical society. The blueberries aren't the big draw for me although I love them. We have plenty of berries on our own bushes, especially in a rainy summer like this one has been. We do always buy raffle tickets for the quilt made by local ladies; this year's is the prettiest ever I think. Haven't won in 14 years but you never know. That isn't really the big attraction for me either.

No, the attraction that pulls me to the town green early that Friday morning is the giant book sale. I learned shortly after we moved here that this area is populated by mystery lovers. I fit right in. That means many residents do the same thing I do - stock up on mysteries at the book sale and then donate them right back the next summer. We have quite a recycling program going. There are also boxes of books by other popular writers, but the majority of boxes are full of favorite mystery writers such as Robert L. Parker, Martha Grimes, Sue Grafton, P.D. James, Marcia Muller, and others.

Each year I try a few new authors. If I don't like the books, it's no great loss for me and I've made a donation to a cause I care about. The problem is that I also buy some nonfiction books that I keep, adding to the overflow in my own library. I'll bring home something like four large tote bags full, and donate three.

In November I go to the Putnam Publishing Co. annual warehouse sale in the Binghamton area and come home with a box or two of new books. Some of those will get donated to the Blueberry Festival, but many of those as well stay on my shelves.

Years ago my husband built a library for me in a spare bedroom. It has floor to ceiling shelves on two walls. I remember him saying at the time that I'd never fill those shelves. I just grinned. Sure enough, he had hardly finished building them when they were full. Still, I have stacks of books around, and more bookcases downstairs filled.

At least I'm not alone in this situation. Every time I go to a book sale I'll overhear people talking about the overflow of books in their house and how they absolutely must do something about it. Our library will soon break ground on a new building near the high school so the historical society can take over the old building on the green. Both are in dire need of more room. In Susquehanna County people do read. Not all of us can afford to buy new books, but we certainly make good use of what books are available to us. I think that speaks very well of the people of northeastern Pennsylvania.

Harsh Penalties for Poor Judgement

So former President Clinton is in North Korea to negotiate the return of the two journalists, Laura Ling and Euna Lee, who strayed across the border to investigate a story last March. It was a story worth pursuing, certainly, but to knowingly go into North Korea illegally was one of the worst examples of poor judgement by journalists in recent history. These are not stupid women; they knew how unstable North Korea's dictator is and yet they took a chance, thereby setting up an international incident that could have plunged us into war and, incidentally, getting themselves sentenced to a labor camp. What in the world were they thinking?

I hope they have learned that there are limits you just don't cross in investigative reporting. Meanwhile I feel very sorry for their families who have been put through hell.

Now we have another instance of very poor judgement. Who in their right minds would decide that Iraq was a good place to take a vacation in 2009? Apparently four young Americans thought it was a great place to go hiking. One didn't feel well so he stayed in the Iraqi hotel. However, the other three ignored warnings by hotel management that the nearby border was unmarked and easy to cross accidentally. Off they went, blithely hiking through the countryside. They have been arrested in Iran. Oops, they crossed the border. Once again, poor judgement by young people has put them, along with the U.S., in a terrible position.

I remember feeling immortal when I was young too. Nothing could possibly happen to me. Fortunately my adventures were mild in comparison so I survived to grower wiser and more cautious without suffering the consequences of taking chances. These five young people defied common sense and, I'm sure, knowledge of the danger involved in their actions. When they are all safely back in this country, I think they should be held accountable for what they did to U.S.-Korea and U.S.-Iran relations.

I hope their example gives others pause when contemplating similar adventures.

Our Killdeer Family

I've gained a new companion as I work in the yard, a killdeer. If you aren't a bird lover, a killdeer is a smallish brown and white bird with distinct brown bands around its head and neck. I'm not really sure why they haven't become extinct since they nest in a shallow depression on the ground in fields and rural yards.

We have a pair here every year so as soon as I see one in the spring I know to start watching very carefully when I mow. Thankfully the young ones are usually out of the nest and able to fend for themselves before my husband takes the tractor out to cut hay.

This year there were initially four chicks, tiny replicas of their parents and unbearably cute. Soon there were only three; no wonder since they are such easy prey. The three chicks thrived and grew for a couple weeks, but then they discovered grass across the road and, since they prefer to run rather than fly, one was hit and crushed almost beyond recognition by a vehicle. The father bird has long since left, but the mother bird stood vigil on the roadside calling to her dead baby all day long. I felt so sad for her.

I've always talked to her (I know it's nutty) as she feigned a broken wing to lure me away from the nest, and later as she tried in vain to keep up with her chicks. Now that she doesn't have to be with them all the time, she has apparently decided it's more fun to hang out with me than with those darned kids who drive her nuts. Every time I go outside she comes running and stays with me until I go back in the house. I still talk to her and she seems content just to be near me. It's probaby a coincidence (she has to be someplace after all) but I feel like she's doing this purposefully.

And I thought it would be lonely and boring living in the country! I can hear her calling loudly right now; probably wondering why I'm indoors on such a nice day.

Pres. Obama and the New Haven Police

One thing I really admire about President Obama is his ability to be reasonable and calm in the face of criticism. His recent remarks about the New Haven Police Dept., Sgt. Crowley in particular, and their arrest of Prof. Gates are further proof of this.

I considered his initial remark that the New Haven police had "acted stupidly" to be a lapse in judgement. This kind of statement could only inflame the situation and alienate police departments all across the country. As Obama stated at the outset, he wasn't there and didn't have all the facts at his disposal; for that matter, neither did anyone else who wasn't there.

Now he has acted to defuse the situation and he will meet with Gates and Crowley to have a calm, rational discussion. He hopes this will teach us all something. First, it should teach the president that even when it is a friend who is involved in a controversial act, he should weigh his words very carefully. This could have set off a firestorm of racial conflict. Thankfully, President Obama had the good sense to back down and bring the parties together for a discussion.

Frank McCourt is Gone

I see Frank McCourt has died. It was only last year that I finally read "Angela's Ashes," his memoir of his childhood in Ireland. I had picked up a copy at a book sale, and soon discovered why it had been such a bestseller.

Since I had grown up in a stable midwestern family in a middle class environment, I couldn't imagine how Frank and his brother Malachy had survived the hunger, lack of even the most basic necessities, and neglect of their early years. I read most of the book alternately gasping in horror and laughing in delight. Perhaps it was that Irish wit that saved them after all.

As a writer I greatly admired McCourt's ability to put the reader squarely in the scene, for instance when the first floor of their house was flooded and stinking with the overflow from the shared toilet so they moved upstairs to their "vacation home" where they heated bits of food over bits of fuel. (And as a writer I shouldn't indulge in such a run-on sentence.) He also remembered that they passed the time telling wonderful stories. His father, when sober, told them fantastic, and totally incorrect but very entertaining, tales of history.

It's almost too much to believe that in the end Frank McCourt was brought down by a skin cancer, even though it was the deadly melanoma. Ah, but I'm sure he would find the humor in it and look forward to a roaring Irish wake. At 78 he was most certainly blessed with long life and the knowledge that from such tragic beginnings he had made something of himself. I hope Malachy won't be too lonely without him.