tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903384378778736862024-03-18T22:27:21.937-04:00Murder is EverywhereNine renowned writers blog from different corners of the worldOvidia Yuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05749549092493567689noreply@blogger.comBlogger4707125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-12628364715286551522024-03-18T00:00:00.050-04:002024-03-18T03:57:48.774-04:00Making History in Kenya<p><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: verdana;"><b>Annamaria on Monday</b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOsKA4dq_vZJSuP8R23pMNukQcMVN1KjRwRv1L8qmIzLMYDIhCOk80KS1VnfGtF_nWLdNqFtnkdyw9wUBQe2qbWxJgjD6Va2bsMhpBES7r3YyBILQY5FUkGHJoqUOYrXTh5KSNbP8n7qUVeHuxzS7NleB4D-YJ3zpoN5hJbET5oPN3SZ-nJXXEKGM0lS0" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="834" data-original-width="1002" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOsKA4dq_vZJSuP8R23pMNukQcMVN1KjRwRv1L8qmIzLMYDIhCOk80KS1VnfGtF_nWLdNqFtnkdyw9wUBQe2qbWxJgjD6Va2bsMhpBES7r3YyBILQY5FUkGHJoqUOYrXTh5KSNbP8n7qUVeHuxzS7NleB4D-YJ3zpoN5hJbET5oPN3SZ-nJXXEKGM0lS0=w400-h333" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-55cd35b1-7fff-e86f-7e5e-0b7cb6ecce6d" style="font-family: verdana;"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Ordinarily, when I write about here about the history of Kenya, I am harkening back to the early Twentieth Century, when it was still the Protectorate of British East Africa. Today, I am reporting on very recent history that I have had the enormous privilege to participate in. The picture above documents the moment when a pastoralist man gave a cow to a woman.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">What’s the big deal, you might ask. Well, I’ll tell you. But the beginning of the story is hard to talk about. Bear with me. I promise you it has a very happy ending.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">In the millennia-old culture of Samburu in Northern Kenya, girls have always been treated as chattel. They belong to their fathers. Ordinarily, at the age of 9 or so, they are offered as toys to men of the warrior class (males of about 15 till mid-to-late 20s). This practice is called beading. Then, once the girls show signs of puberty, they are cut (subjected to FGM), and their fathers sell them into marriage, usually to a man 3, 4, or 5 times their age. This was the fate of all the local girls until…</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFDeeUpMRQPCSB2FK0q9NEs1umeuuSR4rSmBBJoohYbw6o1ov5f0ngAm-mw414NbMlmpBxbmyNfdSHZT1jrVEMBApq0LjGJCTrf7j5mIF_IjLCdSPhj5bJZf8yfIluglGoI4LiSiHIZzuhergeBNLC4sm62e63VQTPG9VnIwgrlozNT99xJC-hRezXSJM" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3300" data-original-width="2550" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFDeeUpMRQPCSB2FK0q9NEs1umeuuSR4rSmBBJoohYbw6o1ov5f0ngAm-mw414NbMlmpBxbmyNfdSHZT1jrVEMBApq0LjGJCTrf7j5mIF_IjLCdSPhj5bJZf8yfIluglGoI4LiSiHIZzuhergeBNLC4sm62e63VQTPG9VnIwgrlozNT99xJC-hRezXSJM=w308-h400" width="308" /></a></div><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Enter Sarah Lesiamito, a Samburu girl who—years ago—emerged from that fate. But then her best friend, a cousin, died in the aftermath of being cut. Sarah, who was then still a child by current American standards, vowed to herself that she would change that part of her culture. She grew up to be a teacher and in 2012 began by saving local girls from that awful fate by taking them into her home, keeping them in school, and supporting them through secondary school and further training.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">As you can imagine, the fathers of those girls often became enraged, demanded to have their daughters back so that they could “prepare them for marriage” and sell them for cows and goats. One such father was this man: Lparasan Leparsha</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhaGdwUDxEvljrMNuXKr1ibd66yCUca2Ay19KF5f05WqLYRPyc0ZADjaXMMHjiBOu-BAsC31JZdkZIES3bsouWCwlj3BHLDVFRL2Zsg29sbymxz-vz5lRm7xd7XXnvqQ8PsMGEWpVsrPQDXnjc26xzUlNEKQNps4RiX1m-Lx3RwDiZJ5_e4ySQumepslQ8" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3300" data-original-width="2550" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhaGdwUDxEvljrMNuXKr1ibd66yCUca2Ay19KF5f05WqLYRPyc0ZADjaXMMHjiBOu-BAsC31JZdkZIES3bsouWCwlj3BHLDVFRL2Zsg29sbymxz-vz5lRm7xd7XXnvqQ8PsMGEWpVsrPQDXnjc26xzUlNEKQNps4RiX1m-Lx3RwDiZJ5_e4ySQumepslQ8=w308-h400" width="308" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">His daughter Sonia went to live with Sarah so she could evade a girl’s typical fate. He went to Sarah to complain about his loss. Sarah calmly told him, “I am helping you raise your daughter.” Since the traditional practices are against Kenyan law, he had no way of the seizing “his property.” He went away mad.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">But, eventually, just about a year and half ago, Sonia graduated first in her class from secondary school. Sarah threw a party and feted her protégé. At which point Lparasan Leparsha went to Sarah and admitted that she had indeed helped him raise his child.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">In the interim, Sarah and I had met, and I had begun to support her efforts with advice and by raising donations to help her expand.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">After the party celebartin Sonia, Leparsha pointed to the dormitory, the small library, the kitchen from which the girls were fed. “How are you doing all this,” he wanted to know. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">“There is this woman in New York,” Sarah said. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">“When that woman comes to Samburu,” Leparsha said “I am going to give her a cow.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">And so we made history this past February 17</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-size: 0.6em; vertical-align: super;">th</span></span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">! Lparasan Leparsha, Sarah Lesiamito, Michael Lenaimado (Sarah’s gold-star supportive husband), and I. For the first time ever, a pastoralist man gave a cow to a woman.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9W1yeNc-rCEabByDH7vWSbIPnIOP2BwKTYDQOOS2f5ZYLrRCkIiQqN8RdOK2pJ4BZQRBEiVSsZY2IMG5Y-57rHkArkgBgJYCERosN7m58dUJGQB78yHTBdIXHs-QV8SMNr4t-KZw1OuNHE_zWJyokcV2KgDVNewOoTvubqPijYwX99L7QJIHXjtlixDU" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9W1yeNc-rCEabByDH7vWSbIPnIOP2BwKTYDQOOS2f5ZYLrRCkIiQqN8RdOK2pJ4BZQRBEiVSsZY2IMG5Y-57rHkArkgBgJYCERosN7m58dUJGQB78yHTBdIXHs-QV8SMNr4t-KZw1OuNHE_zWJyokcV2KgDVNewOoTvubqPijYwX99L7QJIHXjtlixDU=w400-h266" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Leparsha opened his mind and heart and saw the achievements of his brilliant young daughter as the greater good. Remarkable!</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The Sidai Resource Centre is now home to forty-eight girls who are safe from harm. One of Sarah’s early recues, a girl name Shaa, has already come back to her community as registered nurse. Sonia is in college and studying community medicine.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhY7uJjM_55WZyxBd7tUQ7YcHhxvGv3sLMHFtnBMM_SEAEl63yTqWNlm6sOpPSmFONWE7CZHlnAvCixt9qk3Favm-X3rU0AYV1gDo4MF91N48A9tPRxEiYZ4MMMRuoLgctqDpzdlmUPiFAJ6o6glb4_z42CB1z-o2XOh9PJ-5pvfhP3SV6Pg_IbLlwLaSc" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4640" data-original-width="6960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhY7uJjM_55WZyxBd7tUQ7YcHhxvGv3sLMHFtnBMM_SEAEl63yTqWNlm6sOpPSmFONWE7CZHlnAvCixt9qk3Favm-X3rU0AYV1gDo4MF91N48A9tPRxEiYZ4MMMRuoLgctqDpzdlmUPiFAJ6o6glb4_z42CB1z-o2XOh9PJ-5pvfhP3SV6Pg_IbLlwLaSc=w400-h266" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">My cow is just a heifer at this point, but she is nearby to the Centre and will be bred one day soon. After she gives birth to her calf, she will become a source of milk to nourish the Sidai girls as they pursue their dreams.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="http://www.sidairesourcecentre.org">www.sidairesourcecentre.org</a></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p></div>Annamaria Alfierihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311596277267789834noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-72251840351371565042024-03-16T00:00:00.001-04:002024-03-16T00:00:00.353-04:00Fear and Loathing in the Cath Lab<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxwLA-QiAnpqVwA9cvUXXtioKIbUETTXOyv1cPTo81IP4B5rJBm329rUcH2ki8fwP9wEdm9UTGoN5vcfxSdleZ7WicQSMmLqFvUmRaS89oCCkKKN2rC424yACT67WvEr_58SppT_rNXvo6oemy1eYzPgOFnPQGWuePs86XDrnh4k4_1C-y_1aGZO0Q00/s2992/1%20IMG_3394.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2992" data-original-width="2046" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxwLA-QiAnpqVwA9cvUXXtioKIbUETTXOyv1cPTo81IP4B5rJBm329rUcH2ki8fwP9wEdm9UTGoN5vcfxSdleZ7WicQSMmLqFvUmRaS89oCCkKKN2rC424yACT67WvEr_58SppT_rNXvo6oemy1eYzPgOFnPQGWuePs86XDrnh4k4_1C-y_1aGZO0Q00/w274-h400/1%20IMG_3394.jpg" width="274" /></a></span></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />Saturday Guest–Jonathan Siger</span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">For those of you who may
have wondered why I’ve seemed so mysteriously pre-occupied over the past ten
days or so, here’s a post put up by my Hunter S. Thompson admiring son, Rabbi
Jonathan Siger, to set the record straight.<span> </span></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span> </span></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span>–Jeff <br /></span></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbBoOwdQrhmwwmcENBsPd6xjr9WNA6XH7BhgIMK9AOKaxWoTaaYwSpt2L_1i13cDoUvZlS4z8ecucazwUknEOhXkyC5FBRfrOXD_HWOL2WUAFJ-cqwbyhsbQLAEnOq_z_ANfA5PbGBWUJEg32JgRZAUBFj2mIqgPBRb6NfvtH9PVHULfBgTI0TJxYjqq8/s2446/2%20golden%20gate%20bridge%20jon.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1828" data-original-width="2446" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbBoOwdQrhmwwmcENBsPd6xjr9WNA6XH7BhgIMK9AOKaxWoTaaYwSpt2L_1i13cDoUvZlS4z8ecucazwUknEOhXkyC5FBRfrOXD_HWOL2WUAFJ-cqwbyhsbQLAEnOq_z_ANfA5PbGBWUJEg32JgRZAUBFj2mIqgPBRb6NfvtH9PVHULfBgTI0TJxYjqq8/w400-h299/2%20golden%20gate%20bridge%20jon.png" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />For many people, the
sounds of modern country music in the background as a team of physicians wind a
tiny wire through your cardiovascular system into the middle of your aorta
might be disconcerting. This, however, is Houston— and what’s more, it’s
Houston during rodeo season. So, the sense of ‘everything is normal’ that the
soundtrack provided was welcome, and most certainly a better choice than say,
Barber’s “Adagio for Strings”, or probably anything my 14-year-old daughter
would pick. “Let’s get the surgical team pumped up with some driving beats
mixed with heavily distorted guitar and incoherent screaming.” No, in my
experience, that is the kind of music you use for root canals, not heart
catheterization. </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibzut8C73N_EdxbfcYccsSaKYZvO9oTwX9AQIWVPSvXnKmM2not5LLOGFZPF5ckhW61IbleLjErKdw5NKxHb-4U5J0zUOcMlbvjV9pVxaBiWHPu7-LQsuofyyYPx2eJPc2Uqfj0a24iu3T_VMdRSnv0WzGHRmy19IMuI0ViKRAHpOqgLD0f-4UTiyVsdk/s1422/3%20Disco.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1422" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibzut8C73N_EdxbfcYccsSaKYZvO9oTwX9AQIWVPSvXnKmM2not5LLOGFZPF5ckhW61IbleLjErKdw5NKxHb-4U5J0zUOcMlbvjV9pVxaBiWHPu7-LQsuofyyYPx2eJPc2Uqfj0a24iu3T_VMdRSnv0WzGHRmy19IMuI0ViKRAHpOqgLD0f-4UTiyVsdk/s320/3%20Disco.png" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />In any case, regardless of
genre or mood, any musical choice would be preferable to the words I overheard
a little over a week ago as I lay on a table under a collection of sensors and
imaging technology, with aforementioned tiny wire snooping around the depths of
my heart. “Uh-Oh.” </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The next words I heard
were “I want you to consult with a surgeon I trust” and “I am really glad we
did this.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The next morning, I sat in
one of those towers I have visited often as a rabbi and chaplain in Houston’s
venerable and venerated complex of hospitals and medical research
facilities. This time, however, I was a potential triple-bypass
patient. Despite the constant and consistent reassurance from all my
doctors that this wasn’t an emergency, merely just really, really urgent, it
all felt very much like an emergency to me.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">And it was shocking even
if it wasn’t a surprise. I’d had no symptoms I’d recognize, only some
general fatigue. My desire to get checked out was brought on by a few
instances of a rapid heartbeat that were easily explained by too much coffee,
too much social media, and not enough sleep. Still, I have a very strong family
history of heart problems that show up around my age, and so off we went for
some testing. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgesgF2aF_ovL_KJxvY_fknVCjz1h8MOjmxtJ637ApgRNlvMeqssBqdw_FormOY-8eDsKbNrMpgcLbX2blbWK84oZLdhXr80tAC2jrNkihXbqLTtIc5D6P3EOB_XunGEMyym8biTlNM2rxdqOOJx8ZWqdcbJnDTg-FCQ92C13WQW1uuSrL4b3kG8k5vHcc/s1502/4%20Heart%20test.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="848" data-original-width="1502" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgesgF2aF_ovL_KJxvY_fknVCjz1h8MOjmxtJ637ApgRNlvMeqssBqdw_FormOY-8eDsKbNrMpgcLbX2blbWK84oZLdhXr80tAC2jrNkihXbqLTtIc5D6P3EOB_XunGEMyym8biTlNM2rxdqOOJx8ZWqdcbJnDTg-FCQ92C13WQW1uuSrL4b3kG8k5vHcc/s320/4%20Heart%20test.png" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />All my tests and blood
work came back normal. Except for one my cardiologist had strongly
suggested that’s known as a “Calcium Score.” <span> </span>It wasn’t covered by insurance, but he felt it
was valuable because it can indicate problems that might escape the view of
traditional tests. That test probably saved my life. A score of 400
indicates a high risk of adverse cardiovascular incident. I scored
2800. If you are reading this, consider having one done. If it
weren’t for that test, I would not have known the danger I was in. God
bless my cardiologist for pushing me to have that test. </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">One of the advantages of
family history is that it sometimes involves family friends or
physicians. In this case one and the same. Thirty years ago, my
father, the author of the internationally recognized, best-selling “Chief
Inspector Andreas Kaldis” series with #13, AT ANY COST, now available
everywhere fine mysteries are found, was one of the clinical trial patients
treated by NYC-based Dr. Jeffrey W. Moses. Dr. Moses has continued to work at
the forefront of this kind of treatment using stents to clear life-threatening
blockages where in the past (and even today!) many would use bypass. And
so, in keeping with the theme of “if it isn’t an emergency why is everyone
working so fast?” I was on the next flight to NYC, where, one week on from the
first catheterization, a team that specializes in high-risk stent procedures
did their thing. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2wE18oUFTLR-mDam7VxHTfH4fZzHrqH0xqosqKqSaPebFUxmC-q2lWnNEHBUtvZdCC_FQalC3VPGbSrFRFWG2i1v8iS50EHex6yr66__OD5rEEX4b8h0Ybx8g91Ez7TYnNQ2apPaJzdYYgCroltdNjpJAWPm8TlpAzyqgoaqf3DSb6jx_9CTugdN_s34/s864/5%20cath+lab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="864" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2wE18oUFTLR-mDam7VxHTfH4fZzHrqH0xqosqKqSaPebFUxmC-q2lWnNEHBUtvZdCC_FQalC3VPGbSrFRFWG2i1v8iS50EHex6yr66__OD5rEEX4b8h0Ybx8g91Ez7TYnNQ2apPaJzdYYgCroltdNjpJAWPm8TlpAzyqgoaqf3DSb6jx_9CTugdN_s34/s320/5%20cath+lab.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />It was a remarkable thing
to experience these highly skilled professionals at the cutting edge of their
field work together. I did notice there was no music playing, and while I
missed the “country top 40” in the background, I figured if a guy named Moses
is operating on a rabbi, I could safely relax without it. </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">It used to be I would come
visit my father and he would make me stack firewood or carry bags of cement mix
down to the basement of the farm. Since I’m older now than he was back in
those days, and I’m on light-duty for the next week, I figured the least I can
do to help the not-so-old man out is write a blog post.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjaoxPWJKAxUYjIxMWfHE3OB5HVHyI8R0xHrjbNFM1LqcfjFnX10eVb6PVyVOlyUaPTS6PnEU1ArqqRj3TcxVjM3lMdOmzKYXEnr6KIXyMAxISeUz38VC5j4C9V0hy_m6zqanTxO3NJ4UTMq1_ofLIboHJgAJuBWjYQ4ijF2PAZMcXMc9oLc6z7S009J8/s4032/6%20IMG_0908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjaoxPWJKAxUYjIxMWfHE3OB5HVHyI8R0xHrjbNFM1LqcfjFnX10eVb6PVyVOlyUaPTS6PnEU1ArqqRj3TcxVjM3lMdOmzKYXEnr6KIXyMAxISeUz38VC5j4C9V0hy_m6zqanTxO3NJ4UTMq1_ofLIboHJgAJuBWjYQ4ijF2PAZMcXMc9oLc6z7S009J8/w400-h300/6%20IMG_0908.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />Jonathan–for Dad</span><p></p>
<p><style>@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Jeffrey Sigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00718317707555064653noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-65730305247523062562024-03-14T04:34:00.001-04:002024-03-14T04:34:06.103-04:00Visitor<p> <a href="http://www.michaelstanleybooks.com" target="_blank">Michael - Alternate Thursdays</a></p><p>When I'm at Olifants River Game Reserve, I feel I'm at a place where I'm at home. That isn't really true, because I am, and always will be, a visitor. I've written about this before, but somehow the idea keeps coming back to me when I'm here.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidzsasuotT1hiHQqw1M6tVmeJt2ogdWqR1fGALwBpLU731j7QVqWWINDDh-km4QGm7w-oLJmxef4O-4rCIP5kGy_Yv1JcrziA7X_4vt4paoTzBnb8BFbAgR2KJV-3sZe6wG5TwM5n28_8us-pLh1E-yG9pFNCsYUSQr3rAz7itJ7RhqPvywR-RQB2lYA6e/s1024/Picture%20055.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidzsasuotT1hiHQqw1M6tVmeJt2ogdWqR1fGALwBpLU731j7QVqWWINDDh-km4QGm7w-oLJmxef4O-4rCIP5kGy_Yv1JcrziA7X_4vt4paoTzBnb8BFbAgR2KJV-3sZe6wG5TwM5n28_8us-pLh1E-yG9pFNCsYUSQr3rAz7itJ7RhqPvywR-RQB2lYA6e/w400-h300/Picture%20055.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A view of the bungalow I share with two partners overlooking the Olifants River</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span lang="EN-US"><br />Olifants River Game
Reserve is part of a group of game reserves open to the Kruger National Park. Its huge attraction is that the Olifants River, one of the few true perennial rivers of southern Africa, flows through it. The river is the center of life in the game reserve, because water is always the center of life.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGVpIuleGH00bMBEN_huDCsuHDhmoQ6JEVJA2XgQSGTXxY5uiXeNpKJlp4HVdco4AUifFkZR4c0_hy4VFXVt8CC_UOUdBKt15ONjSwnyCsmmTB466tl_sWAIMmFeUFWbEw65cXBJoHyvmdeC7gZKiu9aG-GVcemE_9hL-uvejSGkxUpDNDWWGeNLQYjlX8/s4000/20240313_205001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="1800" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGVpIuleGH00bMBEN_huDCsuHDhmoQ6JEVJA2XgQSGTXxY5uiXeNpKJlp4HVdco4AUifFkZR4c0_hy4VFXVt8CC_UOUdBKt15ONjSwnyCsmmTB466tl_sWAIMmFeUFWbEw65cXBJoHyvmdeC7gZKiu9aG-GVcemE_9hL-uvejSGkxUpDNDWWGeNLQYjlX8/w90-h200/20240313_205001.jpg" width="90" /></a></span></div><span lang="EN-US">There are always new things to see. They may be small things like fruit moths flocking to the dinner table to share the red wine or large things like elephants enjoying the river. This week the river in front of the bungalow is home to a mother hippo with the smallest baby I've ever seen. It was too far away for a picture but wonderful to see the near new-born trying to scramble onto its mothers head in the water. Her head was easily big enough! A hippo is born under water, tossed up to the air for its first breath by the mother, and thereafter its eyes and nose covers immediately close so that it can submerge again and suckle.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWTZzJPLPJTdgeo1lBI3i03CJMB-XfZAyDkfYaeKSRvVkQodje2UCx-ryI2UPBpm6v4LZvFe3U2oGUGA3vOB2H5BnYjF4qAhaxsEuGUxghItNKdAotOlJyaIVqtwCIg-jYccStn91AXs2kKi2ovdsdXcszY-YmWLKF37X0O6aYAQxhL1l2aKBva2J7L3KI/s1000/Buffalo%20coming%20to%20drink%20at%20the%20Olifants.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="662" data-original-width="1000" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWTZzJPLPJTdgeo1lBI3i03CJMB-XfZAyDkfYaeKSRvVkQodje2UCx-ryI2UPBpm6v4LZvFe3U2oGUGA3vOB2H5BnYjF4qAhaxsEuGUxghItNKdAotOlJyaIVqtwCIg-jYccStn91AXs2kKi2ovdsdXcszY-YmWLKF37X0O6aYAQxhL1l2aKBva2J7L3KI/w400-h265/Buffalo%20coming%20to%20drink%20at%20the%20Olifants.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Buffalo coming to drink across the river from the bungalow</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span lang="EN-US"><br />But this
piece isn’t about seeing wonderful things in the African bushveld. It’s more about how I feel in this natural
area and about what these sorts of places mean to me. I’m
not talking about conservation imperatives to which we all subscribe –
preserving nature for diversity and future generations and so on. I’m talking about what it means to me
personally to experience this environment and to be part of it.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Of course,
we are all visitors. No matter if we come
once for a couple of weeks or if we’re here for months every year. We have other priorities. Families, friends, jobs. These things – for most of us – are
concentrated in large towns or cities, so that is where we need to spend most
of our time. In the bush we now live
with electricity, vehicles, appliances, cell phones, the internet. This is hardly raw nature.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCD9ueFqJYk7zh81Zhr35HWVojUmTfonnNkxHiE56XDN1O_oigcnu4uz-97BtndAYCrwkS014GySseYJ2zh7N6rSLRQGa2Shc40EIFDctciEkuHVPBDhMI_1ZQdX6npdRgpjgKKB3bqhzOyB7LwrXZWeWClJNCp5XycBQ6SD8MzxWNZbu70qZWPhlG24_/s1000/Elephants%20on%20the%20river.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="644" data-original-width="1000" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCD9ueFqJYk7zh81Zhr35HWVojUmTfonnNkxHiE56XDN1O_oigcnu4uz-97BtndAYCrwkS014GySseYJ2zh7N6rSLRQGa2Shc40EIFDctciEkuHVPBDhMI_1ZQdX6npdRgpjgKKB3bqhzOyB7LwrXZWeWClJNCp5XycBQ6SD8MzxWNZbu70qZWPhlG24_/w400-h258/Elephants%20on%20the%20river.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The elephants turn</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span lang="EN-US"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtMFem-e2mugw1h1Yrp21U9QSXutXApf3VMJiwv7U8AW30bdJk78eAB3x5tQnsTaeYDtaEbmsUJIpFDFQjujrHX08xUmAVB2YFACne3Cj_ljuHdpHyoQRUY2X6UY_XpDUzFoahdaIm9g5mhJGdr32O83gzYYNJ4uD8tOcP1mYnSOfukg7MKpu4ksJw4E1P/s1023/DBHROW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1023" data-original-width="807" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtMFem-e2mugw1h1Yrp21U9QSXutXApf3VMJiwv7U8AW30bdJk78eAB3x5tQnsTaeYDtaEbmsUJIpFDFQjujrHX08xUmAVB2YFACne3Cj_ljuHdpHyoQRUY2X6UY_XpDUzFoahdaIm9g5mhJGdr32O83gzYYNJ4uD8tOcP1mYnSOfukg7MKpu4ksJw4E1P/w158-h200/DBHROW.jpg" width="158" /></a></div>So what
draws me back here? Of course, it includes
the wonderful animal and bird life, but the complex interconnections of the
systems are endlessly fascinating. Huge
blobs of elephant dung at dawn are sifted pancakes by dusk as dung beetles convert
it to an incubator for their eggs and a nursery for their grubs. (Watch for them rolling balls to a suitable
burial place as you drive; a neighboring reserve has a welcome sign reading
“Dung Beetles have Right of Way.”) Caterpillars
are hosted and fed by ants for the sweet juices they exude. In the soft sand below our deck is a
minefield of conical antlion holes waiting for unwary ants. It’s not all feel good. A baby impala is wonderfully cute but at the
bottom of the fauna food chain. Then, there is a low chance of catching malaria. Bad luck, bad timing. Pretty much how you get injured in a car
accident in a city. (There aren’t too
many of those here.)</span><div><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span>I suppose
most people’s personal feel for history is related to their parents,
grandparents, great grandparents and so on.
For me, to be in a place like this is to experience the Africa of the past. It
makes these things meaningful to me in a way that no historical description can. The African bush speaks to me about my
mother’s grandfather who was a missionary from Belgium to what was then the rural
Transvaal, and of my father’s great grandparents who took part in the Great
Trek in ox wagons to the north of the country. And it
reminds me always of my mother who spent the happiest times of her life in wild
Africa.<o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzevkww3rPWhEYJX4QYdDwsExNtvBvGDiheVYsnSqgj6OFzruisFGdaG66cc79EzXOTlPI29sxsYmCeMtZ9MrbtT_iP3dGQlK1e_zYG7ZeYVJo8hpabZLywfc95dZ6E2tw8zerSDWqfdL1mNUI1jNNE8_EIHcP6Hk8tv02I8TwnQDJp8dN6LPYxSM-o_Dc/s4608/Leopard.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzevkww3rPWhEYJX4QYdDwsExNtvBvGDiheVYsnSqgj6OFzruisFGdaG66cc79EzXOTlPI29sxsYmCeMtZ9MrbtT_iP3dGQlK1e_zYG7ZeYVJo8hpabZLywfc95dZ6E2tw8zerSDWqfdL1mNUI1jNNE8_EIHcP6Hk8tv02I8TwnQDJp8dN6LPYxSM-o_Dc/w400-h300/Leopard.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A relaxed leopard</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I assume
that most people feel this sort of connection with their physical, historical,
and natural environment. I can’t imagine
that it matters if it’s the African bush, a forested lake in the backwoods of
Minnesota, the Australian outback, or (insert your favorite natural
place). I think these areas hold us and
remind us where we came from. I never
want to lose this link to what southern Africa was and still is. Even though I remain a visitor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p><br /></p></div>Michael Sears (of Michael Stanley)http://www.blogger.com/profile/09886295534214542834noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-90591546324135206152024-03-13T00:00:00.001-04:002024-03-13T00:00:00.178-04:00The Superbowl of Books<p> <a href="http://sujatamassey.com">Sujata Massey</a></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjxyLHX-YpQiGhN92oMcIML95CkoKZMSkWcPydowPo0KCtWWa_vFZBucjG6LsQegJCvJqXRs2w5xfjBKzaSf8H-V2ua-0Qlg1r8WaBmN0s4-swDXgyu-TGR3D-5l_GOF0QinfBHqIFC-KhQjgXLZJNKGLE2STHC6GpuMC_fVpe6MJUfDClgRGp5lrY_Hk/s2160/ed,%20angie,%20nick,%20etc%20photo.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1620" data-original-width="2160" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjxyLHX-YpQiGhN92oMcIML95CkoKZMSkWcPydowPo0KCtWWa_vFZBucjG6LsQegJCvJqXRs2w5xfjBKzaSf8H-V2ua-0Qlg1r8WaBmN0s4-swDXgyu-TGR3D-5l_GOF0QinfBHqIFC-KhQjgXLZJNKGLE2STHC6GpuMC_fVpe6MJUfDClgRGp5lrY_Hk/s320/ed,%20angie,%20nick,%20etc%20photo.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I write this during my last few hours in the March sunshine of Arizona. How lucky I feel to have had a mystery gathering again during a very drab time of the year in Baltimore. I arrived on March 8 as a guest at the Tucson Festival of Books. This nonprofit event, run by 2000 volunteers, is said to draw 175,000 annually, making it one of largest free public book festival in the country. Yet the vast space of the University of Arizona campus kept it from feeling crowded. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBLKVlRt1EK38bLrZbQpzJ3TFMhhzt0IibTGIFaNNHhFMDN8o781adFi_kHaDPwbD7_gJD5mf5jl0LbAOddxft37NcUE1oWCyQkRMcNW2xS5ECY4kfDCMgdKx5bc1ECb9LFNkPiCvjfV-iS60eyhMOx9r4A54pg7JDmz0OGrywilwm9ZFVU-ei-8jjNExo/s2016/mountain%20view%20of%20festival%20walkway.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBLKVlRt1EK38bLrZbQpzJ3TFMhhzt0IibTGIFaNNHhFMDN8o781adFi_kHaDPwbD7_gJD5mf5jl0LbAOddxft37NcUE1oWCyQkRMcNW2xS5ECY4kfDCMgdKx5bc1ECb9LFNkPiCvjfV-iS60eyhMOx9r4A54pg7JDmz0OGrywilwm9ZFVU-ei-8jjNExo/s320/mountain%20view%20of%20festival%20walkway.png" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The festival is operated by a private foundation (including many University of Arizona graduates) and is aided by the University, the <i>Arizona Daily Star</i> newspaper, Tucson Medical Center, other donors and Friends of the Festival. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Tucson’s huge success at making books into a kind of state fair on academic grounds amazes a book festival veteran who is used to much smaller venues. How exactly do these organizers gather up six National Book Award winners, the sweetly hilarious comedian Sarah Cooper, and the outstanding mystery novelist T. Jefferson Parker, Lisa See, Abraham Verghese, pictured below, and 300-plus writers of varying levels of fame? How do they inspire so many Arizonans, whether year-round or snow-birding, to sign up for tickets ahead of time, show up early to wait in long lines, and splurge on the writers with kind words and book purchases? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SmFcB-HmEmXm9J89iMxRREQfRvkbG8Zkl_tjDPDd9aF7ZkCDzOWhn8UWKOjbLDO7bjD00HOEQuxlAj3eq22ZYai6P8cWpnFyJmNeT0aERJWTl2nqrnW4Vg71yOuGtPO5zFLlI5sxKd4qKgPc8-Y16La0I23tUOWfoRtqJjS5GoRLllh04sZ4TE44d9e4/s2016/abraham%20verghese%20pic.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SmFcB-HmEmXm9J89iMxRREQfRvkbG8Zkl_tjDPDd9aF7ZkCDzOWhn8UWKOjbLDO7bjD00HOEQuxlAj3eq22ZYai6P8cWpnFyJmNeT0aERJWTl2nqrnW4Vg71yOuGtPO5zFLlI5sxKd4qKgPc8-Y16La0I23tUOWfoRtqJjS5GoRLllh04sZ4TE44d9e4/s320/abraham%20verghese%20pic.png" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">My guess is this 16-year-old festival has built and built word of mouth recommendations until people can't imagine not going. For Tucson, it's almost like having your own Superbowl--although the tickets are free. But I suppose this analogy may work more for people who are book nuts rather than sports fans.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I came in knowing that I would have the chance to participate on three panels. A bit of work, but it felt like play. Every one of my three panel events, the moderators were well prepared and the conversation between participating authors was thoughtful, with usually a humorous person in the middle of it (thank you, Lev AC Rosen, and Catriona MacPherson). Audience members seemed an even mix of established fans and curious newcomers. An authors’ lounge and a happy hour at an off-campus bar let the writers cut loose with nerdy craft conversations around questions like “Should I be writing in close third-person?” and “how much time do you really spend writing and rewriting one book?” </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJw53XEPawyo71KyEKXK6aK6k5An-o5r6m4jWFP0Vn9noINUVqrUvC7prK6ZvS3z-NV2X2GX-HpvxX3crCdIGqF4kLXmL0QDdJe5V3DPKtEBBaEUQq97zuuHhCO5L-CbiqcMZIom7uQnO47lmB0fdUKRB-6rYMOd5DU4Ut4cFT5IFlBqCxixOWtiL2G1OR/s2016/busy%20buyers%20in%20tent.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJw53XEPawyo71KyEKXK6aK6k5An-o5r6m4jWFP0Vn9noINUVqrUvC7prK6ZvS3z-NV2X2GX-HpvxX3crCdIGqF4kLXmL0QDdJe5V3DPKtEBBaEUQq97zuuHhCO5L-CbiqcMZIom7uQnO47lmB0fdUKRB-6rYMOd5DU4Ut4cFT5IFlBqCxixOWtiL2G1OR/s320/busy%20buyers%20in%20tent.png" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAJEtBfZeLwPdPIq6qEHjJAmh7nv3cmHloSQyeogNwKBvcO3eSdfAwnkpVqsdDng99jkHnNMjcdqbUhO_OvWJJo6v0OJ9-3BvHvL68FDbb8S7WNB_aof08-jPaXD11b-tku3dfmKK8rzTDnBdPIchywdTHPhc-5PdF1c8_6U5bpw4d6vBF0EyKDzki1NaQ/s2016/steamy%20lit%20booth.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAJEtBfZeLwPdPIq6qEHjJAmh7nv3cmHloSQyeogNwKBvcO3eSdfAwnkpVqsdDng99jkHnNMjcdqbUhO_OvWJJo6v0OJ9-3BvHvL68FDbb8S7WNB_aof08-jPaXD11b-tku3dfmKK8rzTDnBdPIchywdTHPhc-5PdF1c8_6U5bpw4d6vBF0EyKDzki1NaQ/s320/steamy%20lit%20booth.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Hotels throughout Tucson provided rooms for visiting authors. I was booked in at an Aloft Hotel on a busy road called Speedway. The best thing about was that it was that just by ducking behind the hotel, I had a pretty and quiet fifteen-minute stroll to the heart of the festival’s buildings on the University of Arizona’s vast campus. One day I made three round trips and was thrilled when my phone app told me I'd clocked 14,000 steps.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">On the way there I goggled at the interesting fraternity and sorority buildings that were so different from those I’ve seen at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, and the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis. These were all single story and fitted smoothly with the Western vernacular architecture featured throughout Tucson. I noticed fake grass installed in front of many of the Greek buildings. This made sense because of the desert environment, although the gardening fairy who lives in my brain was whispering “try native plants, please!” Most of the official University buildings had moved into this direction of minimalist native plantings. <o:p></o:p>One thing I loved about the setting was a sense that the state's premier university belonged to everyone, whether or not they were or students.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn1vl18klr-b_ck7yEaE0-N4wI0TR-mJgOD5aCOQRJc_uYgLo8bu-2IGIK-BbmjjA6ijOF6snbti6Q6LtxjYgp1Y6DYsW1Fy1c36KHMoOz2t88NzlSUxWYIK4x0i8UvDBdWK2hf9N7FJ8ZQDgXW4HSlfyOZRN9ibB0F8WKM6ppR6z33e_KgWzYAJCywR_0/s2016/fraternity%20building.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn1vl18klr-b_ck7yEaE0-N4wI0TR-mJgOD5aCOQRJc_uYgLo8bu-2IGIK-BbmjjA6ijOF6snbti6Q6LtxjYgp1Y6DYsW1Fy1c36KHMoOz2t88NzlSUxWYIK4x0i8UvDBdWK2hf9N7FJ8ZQDgXW4HSlfyOZRN9ibB0F8WKM6ppR6z33e_KgWzYAJCywR_0/s320/fraternity%20building.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><o:p><br /></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsb6TF3sUXGqm0hZxvJ7cM4yAo5ltjp-AlTpA_PFRg15ek_JSyllmUic192Cubm16pXOWBn7GMKK3aga9e-1kmvS3OAmnsyV83qwx85Dvk37cmgmEh_KBCTUVAhx53aMNkP81lTKl0xBZqJZ-VtOUNgqKI7J6dIC8xH1O0P1jKA2EKu0y-G-0GnJAMomZ0/s2016/sorority%20house%20picture%20AZ.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsb6TF3sUXGqm0hZxvJ7cM4yAo5ltjp-AlTpA_PFRg15ek_JSyllmUic192Cubm16pXOWBn7GMKK3aga9e-1kmvS3OAmnsyV83qwx85Dvk37cmgmEh_KBCTUVAhx53aMNkP81lTKl0xBZqJZ-VtOUNgqKI7J6dIC8xH1O0P1jKA2EKu0y-G-0GnJAMomZ0/s320/sorority%20house%20picture%20AZ.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><o:p><br /></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDV052BeCpLASw3TCFbEcjU3YOIClZhmg5llaCYssMCEyM7wXlhUN7lho37jn3RqA_NpvgEzN1yQ6eCU7WVNeKbkNHjvGSjv_DkHVC77WgvfiKzbRYR-Iop4xk78ANGxJPq2BKQpJTcJ9uhxFSsTa3oWu4Qi1zTRdWHt8bOzVeZrb6WSwtbQXSRgDveaY_/s2016/streetcar%20closeup%20pic.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDV052BeCpLASw3TCFbEcjU3YOIClZhmg5llaCYssMCEyM7wXlhUN7lho37jn3RqA_NpvgEzN1yQ6eCU7WVNeKbkNHjvGSjv_DkHVC77WgvfiKzbRYR-Iop4xk78ANGxJPq2BKQpJTcJ9uhxFSsTa3oWu4Qi1zTRdWHt8bOzVeZrb6WSwtbQXSRgDveaY_/s320/streetcar%20closeup%20pic.png" width="240" /></a></div><br /><o:p><br /></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The campus itself had a mix of grand turn of the century brick buildings, brutalist mid-century shapes, and newer ecologically smart constructions. I had fun roaming the vast bookstore and then going around the campus looking for turtles in the pond. It's great that a free streetcar system runs along the campus and into the city.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">And how was the intellectual component, you ask? The panels were excellent. Everyone I spoke to, who'd been a participant, felt positive about it. My panel topics were The Wide, Wide World of Mysteries, Searching for Social Justice, and Mid-Century Murders. After we spoke, I met new readers and people who were in Arizona for a break, including my mom's friend, Betsy, who was visiting from Minnesota. <o:p></o:p>One thing I loved about the setting was a sense that the state's premier university belonged to everyone, whether or not they were or students. This could be a positive action for other colleges and universities to try.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82aNc5CjP3rfJ9WfBQUi741SrGdueYXQy8CTU_NoUPv0aMqESqKWyoS4PCAwwUnoLs4sphYbKeXZ6pwYoNX_qhPLMq5NPMNqtcVzdwpgaKBt_3L2iKznb5l2bYu8YBLcsgBF9ToiwAqlulZkI_MmRG3yYXd2urpRIEaNM6_jW_kIgSFzru0lDuPq1f0cA/s2016/with%20mom%20neighbor%20betsy.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82aNc5CjP3rfJ9WfBQUi741SrGdueYXQy8CTU_NoUPv0aMqESqKWyoS4PCAwwUnoLs4sphYbKeXZ6pwYoNX_qhPLMq5NPMNqtcVzdwpgaKBt_3L2iKznb5l2bYu8YBLcsgBF9ToiwAqlulZkI_MmRG3yYXd2urpRIEaNM6_jW_kIgSFzru0lDuPq1f0cA/s320/with%20mom%20neighbor%20betsy.png" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3M3gTrdX0_T7HF_c5C1ui8J9zwd_zcncKcS8bJT7qy7n4eRdr9JAAJ8R7PJBZ-Twp2P8tl95xE9bv4LBR9nsNN8aIu2xKnUW5Ohmmlsj4gYjCe893zBQtSaLOilJzLshJiMRmLSqtCAjiNUo1tpdOFRtwnRq9f1t6L9oI_jMc0Qy5YV8OK6BYNbYvEtE/s4032/turtle%20pond%20arizona%20campus.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3M3gTrdX0_T7HF_c5C1ui8J9zwd_zcncKcS8bJT7qy7n4eRdr9JAAJ8R7PJBZ-Twp2P8tl95xE9bv4LBR9nsNN8aIu2xKnUW5Ohmmlsj4gYjCe893zBQtSaLOilJzLshJiMRmLSqtCAjiNUo1tpdOFRtwnRq9f1t6L9oI_jMc0Qy5YV8OK6BYNbYvEtE/s320/turtle%20pond%20arizona%20campus.png" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcTNCeZ6ybi_OPE5k-yH35nedTEa3fOCoi28xHV2BsFymXakBV8USKOQZ0YJq7HZHy9xvT2cuxk5XlWjbSDc3THHm-4nQ4E_vIKEudQAwhi3k1L1f3CCEBcEuXR5L3BoSzd0eQG1VIGH7k9EMaklHCxcLPAMlTxOourv8xyVRUXzOx54YcsOJcqRLCsuZz/s2016/lawn%20scene%20w%20physics%20building.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcTNCeZ6ybi_OPE5k-yH35nedTEa3fOCoi28xHV2BsFymXakBV8USKOQZ0YJq7HZHy9xvT2cuxk5XlWjbSDc3THHm-4nQ4E_vIKEudQAwhi3k1L1f3CCEBcEuXR5L3BoSzd0eQG1VIGH7k9EMaklHCxcLPAMlTxOourv8xyVRUXzOx54YcsOJcqRLCsuZz/s320/lawn%20scene%20w%20physics%20building.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAast34DmdDrUFYmrpnIFrVfNHhtmMPVoEC2hkIr8sWbMihjihy2VUCYzfjRT-r0-LX96DxeiDKgd6624cCbLw7PS-JSCaNuUDgd53eoiOfDUctf3FmdJam7FonIjyEfRlyyaV8pxa_S8RWo3MIcjBNsEt64yHgEcV7rKRkvJ-XApi_OCLHU_OK8i2j91P/s2016/Western%20fiction%20booth.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAast34DmdDrUFYmrpnIFrVfNHhtmMPVoEC2hkIr8sWbMihjihy2VUCYzfjRT-r0-LX96DxeiDKgd6624cCbLw7PS-JSCaNuUDgd53eoiOfDUctf3FmdJam7FonIjyEfRlyyaV8pxa_S8RWo3MIcjBNsEt64yHgEcV7rKRkvJ-XApi_OCLHU_OK8i2j91P/s320/Western%20fiction%20booth.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">On Sunday morning, I got my Arizona native plant fix in Oro Valley. I met my friend Patti, a librarian in the Pima County system, at a restaurant set within Tohono Chul park, a 49-acre botanical learning center and park. Thong Chul exists because of the generosity and foresight of Richard and Jean Wilson, a couple who began purchasing small patches of desert in the Oro Valley, refusing many times to sell to developers. When the city condemned an area nearby to allow for widening a road, the Wilsons insisted that the very old and tall saguaro cacti that had grown tall over hundreds of years be carefully removed and planted at Tohono Chul. The Wilsons’ private property developed into a private park in the late 70s and was formally dedicated in 1985.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfnrekQTwRNxoAH2RVIFwnuHdMP253hWAQ7CCH9VAKsRlz4cx2L3uMpnP2WRgLymRVCHB89RZza-BzTzfYMTajicyYTLyyJuctJOYKtP2wsMuO0D0hGc7z4MEslkPfHFN9qwUzjylKDwyVOsy4jsHoVZEsXxfOJEUiyCEpCDWRKQekX56z11hafAtnw90/s2016/tall%20catcus%20and%20horse.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfnrekQTwRNxoAH2RVIFwnuHdMP253hWAQ7CCH9VAKsRlz4cx2L3uMpnP2WRgLymRVCHB89RZza-BzTzfYMTajicyYTLyyJuctJOYKtP2wsMuO0D0hGc7z4MEslkPfHFN9qwUzjylKDwyVOsy4jsHoVZEsXxfOJEUiyCEpCDWRKQekX56z11hafAtnw90/s320/tall%20catcus%20and%20horse.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqpLri6bO4z_kIbxZV3TetEQhOmxTIoKMCJ0QqculVDr2JNnY3MQFZWpqusDu7b7q2QyBJ4tx35U7VF7HvSKhXm64k6aiztGQp-2NBAdUws2YkrWpxS79kjXGuvAcnjFjGEin41OYJab8cCZpWR_idd-xHooQju-_2m9bVF3qAdyDao3BPrIT4A7kSARHx/s2016/tangled%20cactus.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqpLri6bO4z_kIbxZV3TetEQhOmxTIoKMCJ0QqculVDr2JNnY3MQFZWpqusDu7b7q2QyBJ4tx35U7VF7HvSKhXm64k6aiztGQp-2NBAdUws2YkrWpxS79kjXGuvAcnjFjGEin41OYJab8cCZpWR_idd-xHooQju-_2m9bVF3qAdyDao3BPrIT4A7kSARHx/s320/tangled%20cactus.png" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I enjoyed my delicious egg breakfast combining Mexican and Native American foods in an original hacienda house on the property, now a restaurant called the Garden Bistro. Then it was time to lather on more sunscreen and wander amidst the spectacular, healthy cacti and other desert plants. The desert landscape feels surreal for me, even though I’ve now been to Arizona two years in a row. I admire how these plants store water and nutrients and endure without trouble the blistering conditions that will arrive in a few months.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZtBYJDwCULG9Fq2SgnNjdKLErmdlaaW6DQEG8UjoCAbSFT8ny0x048uGRhMo8woJcmqyayr3tZKc6q-4HldBTTy09_NCsiKPuy5KeFG6B5H0anoelSz6lI8ZZ2O5vFKORX6s0rNftjZzDAinEudw8QYRKL1t_mUecg4e2otwjEeONzLBDHGy1s5x-XIK/s2016/poisoned%20pen%20entrance.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZtBYJDwCULG9Fq2SgnNjdKLErmdlaaW6DQEG8UjoCAbSFT8ny0x048uGRhMo8woJcmqyayr3tZKc6q-4HldBTTy09_NCsiKPuy5KeFG6B5H0anoelSz6lI8ZZ2O5vFKORX6s0rNftjZzDAinEudw8QYRKL1t_mUecg4e2otwjEeONzLBDHGy1s5x-XIK/s320/poisoned%20pen%20entrance.png" width="240" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">At Poisoned Pen Bookshop, two hours away in Scottsdale, a refrigerator selling COLD DRINKS stands among the bookshelves. I got water there and so much more when I visited on Monday for an event with one of my fellow Soho Press authors, Stephen Mack Jones. Stephen and I chatted about our recent books and writing mystery series in general. We were happy to meet the bookstores’ regulars: not only Arizonans, but a warm couple from Detroit, where Stephen’s books are set, and friends from Kansas City, who had also attended the Tucson Book Festival and driven out to listen and chat some more.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9M9-sHvvGkizj82VAe5dJBhGuzwU320Ts13DmHEdj18Ax9mLGQfZ96aT-w3H4GLPWAsmDU46kl5j5NBpoYuBG1xQXoLmy-U6Smof5r0oZMrVAQ4UsApTqQCAV7HKisBZiB-ApReP2Ctrw89AtSv_qU9dnS9bUuNVWaF9kaQcvTA-7oSfmf-C6CyplRJs/s2016/w%20Stephen%20MJ%20and%20two%20readers.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9M9-sHvvGkizj82VAe5dJBhGuzwU320Ts13DmHEdj18Ax9mLGQfZ96aT-w3H4GLPWAsmDU46kl5j5NBpoYuBG1xQXoLmy-U6Smof5r0oZMrVAQ4UsApTqQCAV7HKisBZiB-ApReP2Ctrw89AtSv_qU9dnS9bUuNVWaF9kaQcvTA-7oSfmf-C6CyplRJs/s320/w%20Stephen%20MJ%20and%20two%20readers.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Maybe the wide desert spaces, towering mountains and endless blue sky bring more than visual serenity to people living here. It could be that they open space for introspection and reading. I was grateful to be in Arizona, and hope to return. <o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxos2BDoObqmPUbO8MeK4yz-HZfgpejjnWqHWyZOkHM83jMnkDNKCY1Jb_FXX6nEN0WyAenrSUnEHKaUdsaPtFBBUk7IxnSlMfZvom1lZuhD4U866Vsk5dP1f-BKnvAgwpOyJ_UKiESU03lPp3cAEoXVufBi9zlGbnOTNyU2fW4u4SbbMxJN3ig-tVrkNy/s1544/stephen%20and%20me%20end%20pic.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1544" data-original-width="1158" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxos2BDoObqmPUbO8MeK4yz-HZfgpejjnWqHWyZOkHM83jMnkDNKCY1Jb_FXX6nEN0WyAenrSUnEHKaUdsaPtFBBUk7IxnSlMfZvom1lZuhD4U866Vsk5dP1f-BKnvAgwpOyJ_UKiESU03lPp3cAEoXVufBi9zlGbnOTNyU2fW4u4SbbMxJN3ig-tVrkNy/s320/stephen%20and%20me%20end%20pic.png" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Sujata in Baltimore, MDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17958776635749620496noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-2542666112287436232024-03-12T01:00:00.014-04:002024-03-12T01:00:00.135-04:00Cover Ups & Breakthroughs--<p> <a href="https://www.ovidiayu.com/" target="_blank">Ovidia</a>--every other Tuesday</p><p>Breakthroughs of the brick and mortar sort, I mean--it's renovation time here!</p><p>Sorry in advance, but this is going to be a dusty, grimy, messy and unfinished post. I'm afraid I'm not up to writing anything more 'finished' this week.</p><p>Even though we thought we got most of our things covered up--</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7hUCzyEGGYFAQkEvz34fgEKKh-mm_uMuPv2NlmhNsOzzxYHaZQP8z7Oa5kEbYQrTVXpRJi8loPuyP45Z3DW6lEJ4n5q5Nc12gi1OKwEg6lNDUFkQuZJv-QnY-8WaHDGGfAEGDhhyphenhyphen6OKoXi2Why7i6urN9LjFTJo1ZQvBKGNCZh0t8OeYZ6zUKuAxbZcHV/s4624/roomundercover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2604" data-original-width="4624" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7hUCzyEGGYFAQkEvz34fgEKKh-mm_uMuPv2NlmhNsOzzxYHaZQP8z7Oa5kEbYQrTVXpRJi8loPuyP45Z3DW6lEJ4n5q5Nc12gi1OKwEg6lNDUFkQuZJv-QnY-8WaHDGGfAEGDhhyphenhyphen6OKoXi2Why7i6urN9LjFTJo1ZQvBKGNCZh0t8OeYZ6zUKuAxbZcHV/s320/roomundercover.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>and especially the bedding and stuff--</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhklGcF0Iw5sx_GgowUWngVT8MGhjAlsS-KbX8ZxMzEU_FwCCe9ctRjrY3xY667n0PwjFayWwWJkSvry8znI9SyUmZeVNoe5jCOPqk7KKuX2lIWoJVZZBjC5NDM00q6saCv-hGYGHe6znyzqG5t6MKmyG8qwBYmgC5E6Jwbfun4VD19Lf6RoRGRtVb7pK-z/s4624/undercover2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2604" data-original-width="4624" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhklGcF0Iw5sx_GgowUWngVT8MGhjAlsS-KbX8ZxMzEU_FwCCe9ctRjrY3xY667n0PwjFayWwWJkSvry8znI9SyUmZeVNoe5jCOPqk7KKuX2lIWoJVZZBjC5NDM00q6saCv-hGYGHe6znyzqG5t6MKmyG8qwBYmgC5E6Jwbfun4VD19Lf6RoRGRtVb7pK-z/s320/undercover2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>and even though all the windows are open and the air filters are running, it's still really dusty. Which translates into a sneezy, sniffy, drippy and headachey me, alas.</p><p>But it's going to be worthwhile when it's finished (much the same thing I tell myself when trying to finish a book!) </p><p>Because we've finally decided--after living in our apartment for eleven years--that we can do without the huge bathtub and 'rainfall shower' it came with! </p><p>('Rainfall shower' sounds good, but it means that if you accidentally tweak the wrong lever everything, including your fluffy towels and Kindle device get soaked).</p><p>So we decided to go for it...</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQ-Kmhqio9BoVrPcJwgtK4ytxnH5VPW32ObYSjCfsP0CcX_4bVIsIZAOMGdXc3V90szOwSZqWrIgZ9P8pO0pEFO6pnkDSW6jzfYJdCk_5EmMsykL2G2ctPn43fOpdjLOpsK5kVJ_bCosb0KJjCB4eCdyVD7Hm4xQyD_eTdQxTLOT15D6mYs7Xkoe9wMcN/s4624/formerbathtub.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="2604" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQ-Kmhqio9BoVrPcJwgtK4ytxnH5VPW32ObYSjCfsP0CcX_4bVIsIZAOMGdXc3V90szOwSZqWrIgZ9P8pO0pEFO6pnkDSW6jzfYJdCk_5EmMsykL2G2ctPn43fOpdjLOpsK5kVJ_bCosb0KJjCB4eCdyVD7Hm4xQyD_eTdQxTLOT15D6mYs7Xkoe9wMcN/s320/formerbathtub.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Here's the former bathtub/ rainfall shower area. I know it doesn't look like much right now, pretty much like my current WIP... <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLFDoFFFsKB1EmBE9P1xrP7O2bg6JT2fePcT1sf2prNzclpRaCiPFDEUsb42H7VuOVkEnXYduo-XgG86ZLx20D_YcKCrWaoh0TXZDYNuanwBB-3m49RTtz4PzRy8CM-oyM67iMHg4KOoKL8e2uJkQQa1klOHCmK2gZg00r8g8chOBmHhH70GejM1VhN2Es/s4624/notes1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="2604" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLFDoFFFsKB1EmBE9P1xrP7O2bg6JT2fePcT1sf2prNzclpRaCiPFDEUsb42H7VuOVkEnXYduo-XgG86ZLx20D_YcKCrWaoh0TXZDYNuanwBB-3m49RTtz4PzRy8CM-oyM67iMHg4KOoKL8e2uJkQQa1klOHCmK2gZg00r8g8chOBmHhH70GejM1VhN2Es/s320/notes1.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwarCNEhZfqAFilp1qOhIPV5HfELJnzK9OEpK2oLZagjbTkFtE8NlwhhrhfmyFTSJcbRQoOewtA4IREy5y5xnkllfks9j64KNdih9T_SWYghg19lowzEQxCa-16HaIC07THo_TrKz4rlHAkQxwTGzqRqEXkJNRIxbUbP6hRc80iYGgOsV6HXHo0F9ok3pS/s4624/notes2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="2604" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwarCNEhZfqAFilp1qOhIPV5HfELJnzK9OEpK2oLZagjbTkFtE8NlwhhrhfmyFTSJcbRQoOewtA4IREy5y5xnkllfks9j64KNdih9T_SWYghg19lowzEQxCa-16HaIC07THo_TrKz4rlHAkQxwTGzqRqEXkJNRIxbUbP6hRc80iYGgOsV6HXHo0F9ok3pS/s320/notes2.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br /><p>(these are today's notes waiting to be typed into the computer)</p><p>Which isn't as easy as it sounds, given most of the stuff from the corridors etc have ended up in my office!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCF2b9oh7ymOaYZR1izihnRsHq8fasx3A6w89s2R-KHvszg-s1qIjUZ0ss8JhyphenhyphenuwUdSW6jay5hHyDzqkCkCL_4HW6xi4K4OaungQos1urwXYw99q-7gVvfds39Us2mgVA-jjG11A5PUImtIZPxkHH92ttPaV6nxNjudrslkd67QwE-jZ_eRpPVPfxHCkmz/s4624/crowdedoffice.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2604" data-original-width="4624" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCF2b9oh7ymOaYZR1izihnRsHq8fasx3A6w89s2R-KHvszg-s1qIjUZ0ss8JhyphenhyphenuwUdSW6jay5hHyDzqkCkCL_4HW6xi4K4OaungQos1urwXYw99q-7gVvfds39Us2mgVA-jjG11A5PUImtIZPxkHH92ttPaV6nxNjudrslkd67QwE-jZ_eRpPVPfxHCkmz/s320/crowdedoffice.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> But I believe it's all going to turn out well. <p></p><p>I have to believe it--that's how we all finish all our books, isn't it? No matter how hopeless things look, how chaotic the rubble we have to push through and how uncooperative the material appears we sketch out an idea of what we're dreaming of and set our protagonists / contractor, architect & workmen on the job. </p><p>Then we just keep coaxing them along day by day, throwing words (or alternatively tea and biscuits) at them and trying to keep the rest of our lives going.</p><p>The new bathroom should be done in ten days. The new book--hopefully--will be ready to go to my agent by the end of the month.</p><p>Please wish me luck on surviving this!</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Ovidia Yuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05749549092493567689noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-32606906651611828332024-03-11T00:00:00.002-04:002024-03-11T09:07:31.259-04:00Melancholy: Hints From History on How to Combat It.<p> <span style="color: #38761d; font-family: verdana;"><b>Annamaria on </b><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);"><b>Monday</b></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);"><b></b></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: verdana;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjx3oDoRma6OdcGWLo4PCarJb6VDamtK73sttHcVKmrL0IYOr00Q5uM6v6EoCJOWlft0iSdgg7U25cYCc77rnsS2z8W9MU9i1cyT-HfAGGsl7xk0XTJPfdKS6LnM9iR2i1IG6X-rBjt7qMRr5JvOINatwH9TbuAGMlms2QYtkOpW6Jjicp27QR8Aq8eW18" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2837" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjx3oDoRma6OdcGWLo4PCarJb6VDamtK73sttHcVKmrL0IYOr00Q5uM6v6EoCJOWlft0iSdgg7U25cYCc77rnsS2z8W9MU9i1cyT-HfAGGsl7xk0XTJPfdKS6LnM9iR2i1IG6X-rBjt7qMRr5JvOINatwH9TbuAGMlms2QYtkOpW6Jjicp27QR8Aq8eW18=w203-h400" width="203" /></a></b></span></div><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);">How many times lately have you heard a warning that the news report you about to see or hear contains words or images that may be upsetting? Those admonitions are meant to avoid intensifying a pandemic of depression. The World Health Organization data shows that melancholia is the world's fifth leading cause of death and disability. We might be tempted to think that, in the wake of Covid, this is happening for the first time. But that is not true. Today, I offer some historical facts about depression, and I hope my conclusions will shine some light on this particular gloom. Here below a quick summary of what many experts say about this subject. Caveat: A lot of what I have to say amounts to gross generalizations. I do hope, though, to provide some insights. Or at the very least, food for thought</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);">The first epidemic of melancholy was detected at some point in the late 16th, early 17th centuries. It was during that period that the human race went through the beginnings of "modernization." Until that time, at least in European cultures, societies were stratified into workers, land owners, and the ruling class. People knew where they belonged and thought of themselves as a permanent part of a group; religion reinforced the pecking order, and cultures also provided release with rituals and festivities. Many of the latter were carnivals - frequent, if brief raucous periods of "anything goes."</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigzdo3vmE4uFu_Z8A7VqNJaL5GhaOH023-6QjKG401v0GJUo-7Ms5KweHHt7Lbq2zCy0JnGcN6-cHHOQN1tFKeDyjt0eWfBIBxuNXkj5EaIMRVvuqCLxgsAaojzT6e_oCA4abqXtaxm9LULXgNlsZSGBqm12IcVhrQr7UDIG7mjON1Uuxyh9sJYPSQ4iY" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="417" data-original-width="417" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigzdo3vmE4uFu_Z8A7VqNJaL5GhaOH023-6QjKG401v0GJUo-7Ms5KweHHt7Lbq2zCy0JnGcN6-cHHOQN1tFKeDyjt0eWfBIBxuNXkj5EaIMRVvuqCLxgsAaojzT6e_oCA4abqXtaxm9LULXgNlsZSGBqm12IcVhrQr7UDIG7mjON1Uuxyh9sJYPSQ4iY=w400-h400" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29); font-family: verdana;">But then, with the development of industrialization and widespread education, suddenly social climbing became a real possibility. People, men mostly, began to see themselves as individuals with a chance at social mobility. Consequently, people began to measure themselves against others and against the criteria for positions they hoped to achieve. By the 1600s, in England, one could buy self-help books instructing the would-be gentlemen on how to dress and comport themselves. This new kind of thinking can be seen culture of the time. Shakespeare's plays for instance are replete with characters who - within the story - are pretending to be something other than who they were born to be. Portia in Merchant of Venice, for instance, passing herself off as a judge.</span><p></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29); font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVo2LessSOVNgNwtEoeLDTr3VPnCnJ-qpQC8jHASBvuMdjb2ozvNOr5KNcqJ3VJDSgmubO8Mb54EgqpDVIKZUw0qCfEigqC6JHyj6M9YWUSytfRdJVsSIxjYQoDZr-yLA5GjdZdrREYi7m8LdcQyZDHLYy9bUpkg6E_x3TIm5YJ9t3VLwlGVObL8C5-5o" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="520" data-original-width="340" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVo2LessSOVNgNwtEoeLDTr3VPnCnJ-qpQC8jHASBvuMdjb2ozvNOr5KNcqJ3VJDSgmubO8Mb54EgqpDVIKZUw0qCfEigqC6JHyj6M9YWUSytfRdJVsSIxjYQoDZr-yLA5GjdZdrREYi7m8LdcQyZDHLYy9bUpkg6E_x3TIm5YJ9t3VLwlGVObL8C5-5o=w262-h400" width="262" /></a></div><br /><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29); font-family: verdana;">During this period, festivals that allowed people to blow off steam began to disappear. Perhaps this happened because social climbing meant one had to stay constantly aware of the "was and was not done." Ambitious began to suffer from stress about their chances of success. And while anxiety was increasing, people had fewer and fewer opportunities to let go and release the pressure. Even dancing became a controlled activity. Ecstasy was out of the question. </span><p></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29); font-family: verdana;">Living spaces became organized into </span><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);">public rooms (drawing and dining rooms) and private rooms (studies and bedrooms), where one could stop being constantly on guard against committing a faux pas. This gave </span></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29); font-family: verdana;">at least a modicum of</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29); font-family: verdana;"> relief, but still a</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);">ll that introspection lead many to feel completely isolated. </span></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29); font-family: verdana;">Protestant sects played into the trend with tenets describing a judgmental, rather than a merciful God.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);">From the get go of these trends, people complained about melancholia, and attention was paid because concerned observers saw that depression was dangerous to the sufferer's wellbeing, even threatened lives.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjptq-MJrhQX_IZ4HFYvAzBwBj8vBQ0FI__hskCXFJN0RvO_Kn7aEVJGxztXQSMv0EOMQSVCfrMFEV4zm1APT8Fl2iQuoLeRTuo9LIAg37wc3Urz4e9urHUIaVOuJmCOabCr7bpSlK9tPN81OU8fTalpwIsPxM8rXHWfburLcuf6nMoJtW8U9v4m4cJyzo" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjptq-MJrhQX_IZ4HFYvAzBwBj8vBQ0FI__hskCXFJN0RvO_Kn7aEVJGxztXQSMv0EOMQSVCfrMFEV4zm1APT8Fl2iQuoLeRTuo9LIAg37wc3Urz4e9urHUIaVOuJmCOabCr7bpSlK9tPN81OU8fTalpwIsPxM8rXHWfburLcuf6nMoJtW8U9v4m4cJyzo=w400-h266" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);">Nowadays, in the aftermath of a pandemic that called for social isolation, depression and disconnection seem to be everywhere. Add to that technology that allows (even tempts us) to look at screens instead of each other. And keeps children indoor playing on computers instead of running around outside and making up games with other children!</span></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi8egi7ZZYsye-oKqBMR0dih6CLXMZ3mVFP0DlnZbKL4pu-nRoMOfCMkZUSW6dWVpLoM6O6vqGac8o0iAGzUCZnRsW0TdFq7bl8vZSaEeDfDmJRRkO-6Aj7F6W3HCmV-TpRN1JZVmRAfqiFfZYZZdolcyYQtcWLFxwCE1uKdNPtFMWa4VlQPZYSGLcDoXs" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="490" data-original-width="804" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi8egi7ZZYsye-oKqBMR0dih6CLXMZ3mVFP0DlnZbKL4pu-nRoMOfCMkZUSW6dWVpLoM6O6vqGac8o0iAGzUCZnRsW0TdFq7bl8vZSaEeDfDmJRRkO-6Aj7F6W3HCmV-TpRN1JZVmRAfqiFfZYZZdolcyYQtcWLFxwCE1uKdNPtFMWa4VlQPZYSGLcDoXs=w400-h244" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);">The antidote? Easy to say. Perhaps difficult to achieve. The answer is open, relaxed contact with other people. Dancing with them. Cooking with them. Working with them to reduce suffering in the world. Trying with all our might not to take ourselves so seriously.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);">Most important of all is to be aware of the dangers to ourselves and those around us. And to seek help. </span></span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29); font-family: verdana;"> </span></p>Annamaria Alfierihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311596277267789834noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-67824304273896102292024-03-10T00:00:00.023-05:002024-03-10T08:24:01.900-04:00The Hungry Ghosts<p><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: medium;">Sara E. Johnson -- special guest</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>We are excited to welcome Sara E. Johnson back to the blog. Her Alexa Glock series, set in New Zealand, is a Murder is Everywhere favorite and she has new secrets to share from her upcoming release, <i>The Hungry Bones</i>. Welcome Sara!</b></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I am
happy to be back with Murder is Everywhere. Thanks, Wendall, for asking me to
visit. My fifth Alexa Glock forensic mystery, <i>The Hungry Bones</i>, comes
out in June.</span></span></div><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Lucida Sans"; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;"> </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfXbYXMDxQc49zPli2lvVaIJfOazuxRq7tIdGAcBg1WPyRFWMJLFINAaPeqaQ3FyHAKIkbTh8UFsRPmVeoxkwRtpmU01Gd6HtfTikAF2cwraV_ZoQUMLAyCpv62jGcfGVSqSLuB5cS3cWv7KMsxCbtWu0O6KqUugqmMdWMYrJBNgc465awvij2_FTvwjKL/s488/51YSruXQh0L.SX316.SY480._SL500_.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="488" data-original-width="316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfXbYXMDxQc49zPli2lvVaIJfOazuxRq7tIdGAcBg1WPyRFWMJLFINAaPeqaQ3FyHAKIkbTh8UFsRPmVeoxkwRtpmU01Gd6HtfTikAF2cwraV_ZoQUMLAyCpv62jGcfGVSqSLuB5cS3cWv7KMsxCbtWu0O6KqUugqmMdWMYrJBNgc465awvij2_FTvwjKL/s320/51YSruXQh0L.SX316.SY480._SL500_.jpg" width="207" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming June 11.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Lucida Sans"; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;"> </span><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The
setting is a charming former gold-mining town on the South Island of New
Zealand. </span>
</span><style><font size="4">@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</font></style><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Lucida Sans"; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0SvHT8GsqKHs8eS9gd7fgbTesmwq650Gu1wVa1w-YsQNUNW386i0l_bE1OlaKJmx_AOTBLdKv3pgo6Bhy1e4Aa4XDPX3WJPINqK63tSughBDrkqNZDPtn15s0pj3tjTO93WzsJZYt7OIJjkJK-VeC5VvH9sVBV-to4sdBHr0a4ubAr5UnVXFfEVFgWDXp/s1000/arrowtow%20in%20mARCH.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0SvHT8GsqKHs8eS9gd7fgbTesmwq650Gu1wVa1w-YsQNUNW386i0l_bE1OlaKJmx_AOTBLdKv3pgo6Bhy1e4Aa4XDPX3WJPINqK63tSughBDrkqNZDPtn15s0pj3tjTO93WzsJZYt7OIJjkJK-VeC5VvH9sVBV-to4sdBHr0a4ubAr5UnVXFfEVFgWDXp/s320/arrowtow%20in%20mARCH.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arrowtown, New Zealand<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Alexa, a traveling forensic investigator (most towns
in New Zealand are too small to have any CSI), is called in when a skeleton is
discovered in an unmarked grave. Alexa's specialty is teeth.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Lucida Sans"; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20BNSZlL4oIvk7VgOG0fskDh4xALn_mP3q56xX8CqvPGIO41bmOZOeNRZN_0C0uT1TEeAxXQGoWHHmheURaodZOWGKbi5AkKK2Le1KsXMsL55K0A4qRlNc3RcxRxjFY4buycMikiS7pKK5AtrRkUYPIuag0mL4B4x0bo6YYV1zaIMLzKjSmBMUXEUK4RQ/s660/teeth.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="355" data-original-width="660" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20BNSZlL4oIvk7VgOG0fskDh4xALn_mP3q56xX8CqvPGIO41bmOZOeNRZN_0C0uT1TEeAxXQGoWHHmheURaodZOWGKbi5AkKK2Le1KsXMsL55K0A4qRlNc3RcxRxjFY4buycMikiS7pKK5AtrRkUYPIuag0mL4B4x0bo6YYV1zaIMLzKjSmBMUXEUK4RQ/s320/teeth.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></div><p style="text-align: left;">
</p><div style="text-align: left;"><style><font size="4">@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</font></style><span style="font-size: medium;">She'll analyze the strontium isotopes in the enamel of the
skeleton's molar to determine where he spent his formative years, but that's
another very cool story. This story is about gold and ghosts. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The Arrowtown area gold
rush began in the 1860s. Most of the miners were English, Irish, and Scottish.
By 1862, fifteen hundred miners camped beside the Arrow River. </span></span></div><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Lucida Sans"; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: 1.0pt;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Lucida Sans"; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: 1.0pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyPKmglJz7mIZzaM3Z7vLFNudPlU4RjhEVMEJRjDy0bD8HRpG9oWrnqiJjxNyYKCy9i9QmQwEhfeRc6huT0HyGu_h6KNrrVRjptWKDZwF8AUfU8HFy0CwtWkq7_OlHKAn5Tu_eG9mnlviFaP7CSgur_x0L24j-Wr2N3Rq-xvLKHpmXZD3BSMAZk2-kXilD/s4080/PXL_20230314_231127674.PORTRAIT%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyPKmglJz7mIZzaM3Z7vLFNudPlU4RjhEVMEJRjDy0bD8HRpG9oWrnqiJjxNyYKCy9i9QmQwEhfeRc6huT0HyGu_h6KNrrVRjptWKDZwF8AUfU8HFy0CwtWkq7_OlHKAn5Tu_eG9mnlviFaP7CSgur_x0L24j-Wr2N3Rq-xvLKHpmXZD3BSMAZk2-kXilD/s320/PXL_20230314_231127674.PORTRAIT%20(1).jpg" width="241" /></a></div> <p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">As
soon as the river and surrounding area was deemed barren, the European miners
rushed off to other goldfields. Chinese miners were recruited to keep the
economy going. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">By the 1880s, there were five thousand Chinese
in the Otago region, almost all men.</span> </span></div><p> </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq_6lMaovazap3X2Qqm70p2DnRDs2VgmKWu1i92zOOON2wf-nXbf-q8LaV6uJkU4Q32L096bbFH4f-_6fIeJUcwO4xCO28S-Az-OVHdO6bkG2G3r0IvVQcC3UPrgylySgKUigC4Dx1aXX9HPBxGIt73izDyit7gFllm_zEnnFSlhXlwC8MJYUtae-OMz5r/s850/The-Chinese-miners-who-made-up-the-Maori-Gully-congregation-with-the-Rev-W-Mawson.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="626" data-original-width="850" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq_6lMaovazap3X2Qqm70p2DnRDs2VgmKWu1i92zOOON2wf-nXbf-q8LaV6uJkU4Q32L096bbFH4f-_6fIeJUcwO4xCO28S-Az-OVHdO6bkG2G3r0IvVQcC3UPrgylySgKUigC4Dx1aXX9HPBxGIt73izDyit7gFllm_zEnnFSlhXlwC8MJYUtae-OMz5r/s320/The-Chinese-miners-who-made-up-the-Maori-Gully-congregation-with-the-Rev-W-Mawson.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chinese gold-miners in New Zealand<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> <p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #0a0a0a;">The Europeans miners mostly
stayed in New Zealand. (Gosh – they had come all that way!) The Chinese </span><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;">considered themselves
visitors. Their goal was to make money and return home. They did this in one of
two ways: Strike it rich, buy a bowler hat, and sail to Hong Kong on a steamer
ship. The second ticket home was to sail on a corpse ship.</span></span></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">You heard right.</span></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;">There's
a Chinese proverb: Falling leaves return to their roots. The Chinese believed
that after death, the soul hovers over the grave until he is home. Many of the
miners, of course, never struck it rich or made it home.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqMcsqS3Vn4Q6EME-tXzPOwnLi2fntaax-etUE-6m3lUOqh51qSTNjAtHJ2-hffLZnXx2WgROsn2-oUrqPn1zOMxXF-pVWIO22j0y__QdzkbYXwmjvkFIfU2drkDAnXJjBlghjBj8FP8VFyYDQhyV5BNgqPjDQ-QdBPSLXS-nBaizGRDLbWaeB57fUka7K/s497/chinese%20proverb.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="125" data-original-width="497" height="80" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqMcsqS3Vn4Q6EME-tXzPOwnLi2fntaax-etUE-6m3lUOqh51qSTNjAtHJ2-hffLZnXx2WgROsn2-oUrqPn1zOMxXF-pVWIO22j0y__QdzkbYXwmjvkFIfU2drkDAnXJjBlghjBj8FP8VFyYDQhyV5BNgqPjDQ-QdBPSLXS-nBaizGRDLbWaeB57fUka7K/s320/chinese%20proverb.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Hence – the corpse ships. Chinese benevolent societies
arranged the ships. If you paid in advance – most miners or their families did
to avoid the calamity of being abandoned – you were guaranteed a trip home if
you died. The first corpse ship, <i>Hoihow, </i>set sail in 1883 with the
remains of 286 miners. Members of the Cheong Sing Tong society had
painstakingly exhumed them from graveyards all over Otago, including Arrowtown.
They defleshed (if necessary) and cleaned every bone and bagged them together
in calico bags. Then they enclosed the bags in zinc boxes covered with wood.
Tiny coffins. </span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Y5i64CCP7Evh9sV3byWF1CRm1HiMvU_OyPkQHzsNxcd5Bt4l8j1FngiIegbXh9dW-n7tm2BmRqrkrKqhVfcc1cIcFFi_V8NnJijyUhOaP5qK8UyTOCdmaFvnmmWsPYBRFI7Wd-TxWMqLVnPX67uJCfUWB_95l3y-D1CdNk0xojXC7OIVMPMq1y8zJmiN/s900/SS_Ventnor.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="900" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Y5i64CCP7Evh9sV3byWF1CRm1HiMvU_OyPkQHzsNxcd5Bt4l8j1FngiIegbXh9dW-n7tm2BmRqrkrKqhVfcc1cIcFFi_V8NnJijyUhOaP5qK8UyTOCdmaFvnmmWsPYBRFI7Wd-TxWMqLVnPX67uJCfUWB_95l3y-D1CdNk0xojXC7OIVMPMq1y8zJmiN/s320/SS_Ventnor.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The S.S. Ventnor<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;">The
next tomb ship was nineteen years later. The <i>S.S. Ventnor</i> sailed from
Wellington on October 26, 1902, with 499 skeletons aboard. Seven elderly
Chinese men were given free passage home in exchange for attending to the
coffins. Somewhere off Hokianga – the far north of the North Island – the <i>Ventnor</i>
went down, taking all those hungry ghosts to the bottom of the sea.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;">The
Chinese gold miners died twice.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Over the next few months bones and tiny coffins washed
ashore. Māori members of Te Roroa and Te Rarawa iwi (tribes), who were
mystified at the time, respectfully interred them in their urupā (burial
grounds).<span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;">The
wreck of the Ventnor was discovered in 2012 and later designated as an
archaeological site.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;">Do
you have strong feelings about where you want to be buried or have your ashes
spread?<span> </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"><span> </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"><span></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"><span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnlrYWghoexcCf3ulVNDeArJnjrpu7Y7eZGFahS7b6WUhOiZR0MDWopYoS4bsfkMda4cdv9v4hQkMjD6AVe8fbpEfJyxMWK6iZowxeJ2i1Gm4_foOZrE_fRKeYnOlXOgRNsA_vEkgIor1MFN9Q41OOQZzWjI9tqKHlK_7dGiT-u4BdC-WbE6Kl0onp3IIZ/s5472/P1000883.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnlrYWghoexcCf3ulVNDeArJnjrpu7Y7eZGFahS7b6WUhOiZR0MDWopYoS4bsfkMda4cdv9v4hQkMjD6AVe8fbpEfJyxMWK6iZowxeJ2i1Gm4_foOZrE_fRKeYnOlXOgRNsA_vEkgIor1MFN9Q41OOQZzWjI9tqKHlK_7dGiT-u4BdC-WbE6Kl0onp3IIZ/s320/P1000883.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"><span> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEOzlLO-669UhEaGmcN-oic9H2_2uG-Wfe_LPYsl59NpeZPxeE_DKyf7sS0qm3kgdCfEuZOHORgECgKqWamnutTy3lnXYG_s0N5P9Ss_KMB3XeBEKDmx6oKxY2AtRmSVJR7yMV7a0gR-r262TbTks1LveBclaczI8CLdwjWV_E6OoexDo5FnnpSS8WzMlD/s5472/P1000894.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEOzlLO-669UhEaGmcN-oic9H2_2uG-Wfe_LPYsl59NpeZPxeE_DKyf7sS0qm3kgdCfEuZOHORgECgKqWamnutTy3lnXYG_s0N5P9Ss_KMB3XeBEKDmx6oKxY2AtRmSVJR7yMV7a0gR-r262TbTks1LveBclaczI8CLdwjWV_E6OoexDo5FnnpSS8WzMlD/s320/P1000894.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></span></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;">When
I was in New Zealand last year, I visited Opononi, a beach community where a
memorial was built, to pay my respects. The names of all 499 miners are listed
on plaques. It is a beautiful and haunting memorial. Check out <i>The Hungry
Bones</i>, this June, to learn more about the New Zealand gold rush and why one
miner did not want to return to his roots. The book is dedicated in memory of
the Chinese miners. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;">---Sara</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;">You can find Sara at <a href="https://www.sarajohnsonauthor.com">https://www.sarajohnsonauthor.com</a></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;">On Twitter/X at </span></span><span class="css-1qaijid r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0 r-poiln3" style="text-overflow: unset;"><span style="font-size: medium;">@sarajhn </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"> <br /></span></span></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Wendall Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17478448774987982221noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-88587476088806246242024-03-09T00:00:00.003-05:002024-03-09T00:00:00.149-05:00It's Celebratory Mardi Gras Time in Greece<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3eUeKiHi7aCtO_Appff-ueSDmSIO00khJqyCWWRg8c0sxtmz6lKlVhfs5YViZxZGCAeD0OHXmR6NarYURdij2Xmjfj00RQ2PjSusiGOs10aNbnsIbLRypInkJNdPEZt_PNr3DkHCI5vPA/s1600/1+apokries-2014-karnabali-stin-athina-ta-parties-ekdiloseis-prepei-xasete.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3eUeKiHi7aCtO_Appff-ueSDmSIO00khJqyCWWRg8c0sxtmz6lKlVhfs5YViZxZGCAeD0OHXmR6NarYURdij2Xmjfj00RQ2PjSusiGOs10aNbnsIbLRypInkJNdPEZt_PNr3DkHCI5vPA/s1600/1+apokries-2014-karnabali-stin-athina-ta-parties-ekdiloseis-prepei-xasete.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Saturday–Jeff</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">
To me, whether you’re Greek or not, tiny momentary pleasures
are what buoy up sagging spirits, bond us to our roots, remind us of our
heritage, and reinforce our choice of worship. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">
Finding satisfaction in the simple acts of living is an
essential ingredient of the Greek way of life. <span> </span>Perhaps that’s what draws me to them so
strongly. Even in winter there is joy to be found in everyday Greek life:
coffee with friends in a <i>cafenion</i>, a
stroll by the sea, a gaze up toward the mountains.<span> </span>And every so often the entire country joins
together in celebration of the glory of life that is Greek. Today’s blog falls
in the middle of just such a time. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNmsFAshLmpxzsZ4Z2cKptMBEzvkubpHCGot91yIKMf2zRDs6ROeYO04R19WyDqcC6OuLqlo-ujePYN8N6Sidj2qrvhnm8fV5884kezOvY370ncLrg3YaEDGsz6WsQVPAplQskxMKJavjg/s1600/1a+1743749_660476860677802_1557756036_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNmsFAshLmpxzsZ4Z2cKptMBEzvkubpHCGot91yIKMf2zRDs6ROeYO04R19WyDqcC6OuLqlo-ujePYN8N6Sidj2qrvhnm8fV5884kezOvY370ncLrg3YaEDGsz6WsQVPAplQskxMKJavjg/s1600/1a+1743749_660476860677802_1557756036_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Burnt Thursday on Mykonos Streets</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDsM6stzX3tsbNbch_EZTCQrmqv-uvtERw8JAE_G1Zsn9vZu_zSM-VUjHYYKYtDtEf_UCm1c9_Dk3pa2Fbts3JYinGdj8mVhREjtprKqcN1HWEn_cvXTCDXjvkbQOVU8KelaQvOV65TyQ/s1600/1c+1966770_237576986427470_1918373973_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDsM6stzX3tsbNbch_EZTCQrmqv-uvtERw8JAE_G1Zsn9vZu_zSM-VUjHYYKYtDtEf_UCm1c9_Dk3pa2Fbts3JYinGdj8mVhREjtprKqcN1HWEn_cvXTCDXjvkbQOVU8KelaQvOV65TyQ/s1600/1c+1966770_237576986427470_1918373973_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcgfUKiUdGTsV_l9lPkHdYWirqxY9NriQF6iISjQiqjYeyzXST68HpGHLBC7yW4sUauGtc39T5JJktV-rjM2GV6Ts9g50YGLKivRYzYxauwOIYaK8Fc4la1TYpCut77NPw20urD6TR8eeY/s1600/1c+1958006_237576959760806_481892876_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcgfUKiUdGTsV_l9lPkHdYWirqxY9NriQF6iISjQiqjYeyzXST68HpGHLBC7yW4sUauGtc39T5JJktV-rjM2GV6Ts9g50YGLKivRYzYxauwOIYaK8Fc4la1TYpCut77NPw20urD6TR8eeY/s1600/1c+1958006_237576959760806_481892876_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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This past Thursday was <i>Tsiknopempti</i>,
eleven days before the beginning of Greek Orthodox Lent. “<i>Pempti</i>” means Thursday, and though <i>tsikno</i> is somewhat hard to translate, most settle on “burnt” and
translate <i>Tskinopempti</i> as “Burnt
Thursday.”<span> </span>It signals the beginning of a
carnival atmosphere in many parts of Greece.</span></div>
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Actually, carnival season in Greece commences weeks before the
start of Lent with the opening of a sacred text (<i>Triodion</i>), but that occurs in a sedate church service.<span> </span>True Greek-style partying doesn’t actually
kickoff in most places until Burnt Thursday, a day of engulfing smoke and
scents from endless grills sizzling with meats, for it kicks off the last
“legal” weekend for red meat eaters to indulge in their carnivore passions. </span></div>
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Which brings to mind something many of you may not
know.<span> </span>Carnival comes from the Latin <i>carne </i>(meat) and <i>vale </i>(goodbye), and the name for carnival time in Greece is <i>Apokreas</i>, derived from how an ancient
(partying?) Greek would literally say goodbye to meat (<i>kreas)</i>. And let’s not forget that those ancient Greeks knew how to
party. The dancing, drinking, and feasting associated with Greece’s carnival
today—not to mention all that masquerade dress-up—is a direct descendant of
those reveling worshipers of <i>Dionysis</i>,
the Greek God of Wine and Feast.<span> </span></span></div>
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Bet you never thought to add Greece’s Patras to the list of
Mardi Gras hotspot cities like Rio de Janeiro and New Orleans?<span> </span>Unless, of course, you’re Greek and know the
partying runs right up until Lent.<span> </span></span></div>
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Back to<i> Tsiknopempti.</i>
<span> </span>Though it may be the time for saying
goodbye to meat, dairy lovers get a break for another week—called white or
cheese week.<span> </span>But come that second Monday
after <i>Tsiknopempti</i> (called Clean
Monday (aka <i>Kathara Deftera</i>)), the consumption
of all red-blooded animals and of anything derived from those critters is
forbidden.<span> </span>No meat, fish, milk, cheese,
yogurt, eggs, etcetera. <span> </span></span></div>
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Contrary to what you might think, Greeks see Clean Monday as
a day for rejoicing—and I’m not talking about just the vegetarians among them.
It’s a national holiday widely held to signal the start of Spring, a day for kite
flying, trips to the seaside or mountains, and a picnic feast on foods still
allowed. </span></div>
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And there are many: <i>Lagana</i>,
an unleavened flat bread traditionally served and eaten only on Clean Monday; <i>taramosalata</i>, a tasty dip made of cod or
carp roe; <i>fava </i>(split pea) puree; <i>yigandes</i>, giant kastoria beans in a
casserole with tomatoes, onions, herbs, and spices; salads of <i>marouli</i> (romaine lettuce), three beans (<i>fassolia</i>), and perhaps <i>revitho </i>(chickpea) salad with artichokes
and sun-dried tomato; <i>dolmades</i>, the
traditional grape leaves stuffed with rice and fresh herbs; peppers stuffed
with bulgar and herbs; c<i>alamari</i>; squid
prepared fried or in any number of other ways; octopus grilled as is, or
dressed up with tomatoes, capers, and other special touches; cuttlefish in wine
sauce with pearl onions; <i>garides</i>,
giant shrimp grilled with lemon; stews of wild mushrooms, onions, and herbs; <i>halvas</i> (semolina pudding); <i>loukoumathes</i> (puffs of fried dough in
sweet syrup sprinkled with cinnamon and walnuts); <i>pasteli</i> (sesame-honey candies) … and on and on. </span></div>
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And let’s not forget the ouzo, <i>tsipouro</i>, wine, and beer.</span></div>
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I hope I’ve given you a glimpse into the Greek soul, but if
not, perhaps at least some sense of where all those endless Greek diner menus
come from. </span></div>
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––Jeff</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">PS. Don't forget to set your clocks ahead one hour tonight if you're in (most of) the US. </span><br /></p>Jeffrey Sigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00718317707555064653noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-3645140218558711772024-03-08T08:55:00.000-05:002024-03-08T08:55:06.074-05:00Lost in the desert<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Here's a wee test for you. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">If you were stuck in the desert, what would be of most use to you?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">The situation is that you and three friends have gone on a hike and got lost.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Your party were expected back by 3pm, and there's been no sign of you.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">So what do you do to survive?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbyk1ckNj0UBOnKrsi498xzOk4f0onvGVznx587LI6hKa7Vo4ERD0jN2-1T-AlZPLK9RXYmrQm4urcVCpf6xotKOUE7cL4L7Y6rr8itsf3BH8iIg96rNmuVTuTJjNEAw5urHqzXKvLavE8jGMepgvoMmCpuCw4AlS_bGq9R9xMdWOc6MCIaxMmrsgNlvSF/s5184/IMG_0552.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbyk1ckNj0UBOnKrsi498xzOk4f0onvGVznx587LI6hKa7Vo4ERD0jN2-1T-AlZPLK9RXYmrQm4urcVCpf6xotKOUE7cL4L7Y6rr8itsf3BH8iIg96rNmuVTuTJjNEAw5urHqzXKvLavE8jGMepgvoMmCpuCw4AlS_bGq9R9xMdWOc6MCIaxMmrsgNlvSF/s320/IMG_0552.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">As this is a fictional bit of fun, you can rank the following items in order of most useful to aid survival to least useful to aid survival.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawqG40TQPRJHSUQSO3HY8ryaU9RbmfGQLsyRHoEu02pKipyS_BDjQYkmHY0vsz21AxRsr1bKBKlyzsdsZYY3i7-W-X07vY6_XMaKE7-Zd9YzWVKgaO9-vkXVlzbHuLgpnejUgTXoAqMqH9RxFNXcs6Ul6nIySLyl_jJnMDXK44TJn5YUoM0pXH2u3bEfx/s5184/IMG_0553.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawqG40TQPRJHSUQSO3HY8ryaU9RbmfGQLsyRHoEu02pKipyS_BDjQYkmHY0vsz21AxRsr1bKBKlyzsdsZYY3i7-W-X07vY6_XMaKE7-Zd9YzWVKgaO9-vkXVlzbHuLgpnejUgTXoAqMqH9RxFNXcs6Ul6nIySLyl_jJnMDXK44TJn5YUoM0pXH2u3bEfx/s320/IMG_0553.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">The 15 items are</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">a parachute</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">2 quarts of 180 proof vodka</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">5 quarts of water</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">torch</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">.45 loaded pistol</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">cosmetic mirror</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">large plastic raincoat</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">one topcoat per person</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">salt tablets</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">a magnetic compass</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">one pair sunglasses per person</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">a sectional airmap of the area</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">a book about edible animals of the desert</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">compress kit with gauze</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">jack knife</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQGfPHcy1i1oLhhiv_6Sdo4oIGTBLw7LnzAw5fjI-13CiJ-0vlhiKCAJudJ_m75Gl6ObcPcaRIgGNNVLdA0UKmVYQylw9pZdDDBbpvDOYmAgw22NSW-0VSNEg_qbJb4W2EZuEEZlSKK26f1FQFEkI11CC9KmD0ncjJ_14nojXtjvqU-1qgktF8i3I_Wjf/s5184/IMG_0555.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQGfPHcy1i1oLhhiv_6Sdo4oIGTBLw7LnzAw5fjI-13CiJ-0vlhiKCAJudJ_m75Gl6ObcPcaRIgGNNVLdA0UKmVYQylw9pZdDDBbpvDOYmAgw22NSW-0VSNEg_qbJb4W2EZuEEZlSKK26f1FQFEkI11CC9KmD0ncjJ_14nojXtjvqU-1qgktF8i3I_Wjf/s320/IMG_0555.JPG" width="320" /></a></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Some further info? There's a few cacti about and the temperature is well over 100 F</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-COaxF01S0blS2Q8QOD6gUF8W2V_Y06jYDbZabvWoPo31-S4TljZ3L0neXiDX19GzpCiP7ZX-atK9qVhUv9vlwcb9JSD6ryuPnQHhseATYa0SJ5Ro_ljhs-ykOx_ztOqd0ms24YyT2tqL-L2nc1hpvQubNg-SjDO9Mzrisc8bi8wyiNA98mQcsTA3YDu/s5184/IMG_0557.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-COaxF01S0blS2Q8QOD6gUF8W2V_Y06jYDbZabvWoPo31-S4TljZ3L0neXiDX19GzpCiP7ZX-atK9qVhUv9vlwcb9JSD6ryuPnQHhseATYa0SJ5Ro_ljhs-ykOx_ztOqd0ms24YyT2tqL-L2nc1hpvQubNg-SjDO9Mzrisc8bi8wyiNA98mQcsTA3YDu/s320/IMG_0557.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">If you were to rank the 15 items with the most important first, what would you put first? What would you put last?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzntNd2VDU15tV7G1OlJHacfdjfHThpPVcjB69YPL6PH0732gDPVRYALrVH_YmqRObbFSRh5JtJtAmhrEp2G2CrNoYuERrSUVv__K9hQL9yFxKMzheILlMEUD_lboLQIaiFww9Pw1wfdi2Jbnc7ME0KFs9qIolRKHRG6KXBr2opN2phy50mxPu9lNAvKl5/s5184/IMG_0558.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzntNd2VDU15tV7G1OlJHacfdjfHThpPVcjB69YPL6PH0732gDPVRYALrVH_YmqRObbFSRh5JtJtAmhrEp2G2CrNoYuERrSUVv__K9hQL9yFxKMzheILlMEUD_lboLQIaiFww9Pw1wfdi2Jbnc7ME0KFs9qIolRKHRG6KXBr2opN2phy50mxPu9lNAvKl5/s320/IMG_0558.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">And how far down the list do you get before you say.... well, can I fire a gun?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Why would I have a parachute with me?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Who am I in the desert with?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Do I owe them money?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Why am I in this mess?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7E6LVQ3huv8UGWCjWAk5Fxd9eGX8X2DWQFgIr7BsUkXc7oCspDI5XIx6qAN_6-TZNSKsWD5B0cY0UDc_uo10CzzUOSLiu9EWCdtfjqkCtJKRd_OBMcbpPd-2lA3niWDxOqfL_Kgu8nyKUx7ya5dyFJIhSbTYu2zCxI0NNpR5bHGQoKROmZK5twK4e9moK/s5184/IMG_0561.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7E6LVQ3huv8UGWCjWAk5Fxd9eGX8X2DWQFgIr7BsUkXc7oCspDI5XIx6qAN_6-TZNSKsWD5B0cY0UDc_uo10CzzUOSLiu9EWCdtfjqkCtJKRd_OBMcbpPd-2lA3niWDxOqfL_Kgu8nyKUx7ya5dyFJIhSbTYu2zCxI0NNpR5bHGQoKROmZK5twK4e9moK/s320/IMG_0561.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Has anybody read Ice Cold in Alex?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Given my current circumstances, which of my life choices are to blame?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Do I like vodka?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT0UW3zCEUTJwab9N-yh0VoMp1KsGbMApowVEJBwe7YklHmV8bsY_BbeqFppw9dDyhveEtSgoltaQKA_so760KkYvbt6Vg_SdnJPuj4st3yQP0212MQ_1XZQZ2Z3J1ekQfSFcI9GPEUNakCbr5THuTWvXsW4oac6cDkBrUifcR2jhmPPlfonAbzkGF29t-/s5184/IMG_0563.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT0UW3zCEUTJwab9N-yh0VoMp1KsGbMApowVEJBwe7YklHmV8bsY_BbeqFppw9dDyhveEtSgoltaQKA_so760KkYvbt6Vg_SdnJPuj4st3yQP0212MQ_1XZQZ2Z3J1ekQfSFcI9GPEUNakCbr5THuTWvXsW4oac6cDkBrUifcR2jhmPPlfonAbzkGF29t-/s320/IMG_0563.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">As anyone who has read Desmond Bagly knows, the most important item is the cosmetic mirror. It's hugely powerful in its ability to reflect sunlight for signalling.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">And you can ensure that your corpse looks fabulous.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">The second item is the topcoat, it helps reduce sweat, helps reduce dehydration.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Sounds counterintuitive but it seems to be true.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">The third item is the water. You could last three days on that amount of water. My suggestion that I'd use the jackknife to stab the other three to death so I could have all the water was largely thought to be unacceptable. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvHyjMG9BNNzn5pA9DoBO4nBEEdAfmnXJqthEXF5OjdIho7YGU-VBt5Eq-CMe7II0Qzsur8RueZ_dyHjaQH1yp72SflRxAZXADzHWWGWRfxjtaTLqUstKQu9rtUlsU6Qg0trUmIWvJjjdEh5wYbcklGf9hhRz8Wrds5e40aPGuRYRQufDSlnqHDjG0OCaX/s5184/IMG_0591.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvHyjMG9BNNzn5pA9DoBO4nBEEdAfmnXJqthEXF5OjdIho7YGU-VBt5Eq-CMe7II0Qzsur8RueZ_dyHjaQH1yp72SflRxAZXADzHWWGWRfxjtaTLqUstKQu9rtUlsU6Qg0trUmIWvJjjdEh5wYbcklGf9hhRz8Wrds5e40aPGuRYRQufDSlnqHDjG0OCaX/s320/IMG_0591.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">The fourth item was the flashlight - once we had acertained it had batteries! Used for signalling, or battering the others to death- again a suggestion of mine.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">The fifth most useful item was the parachute. To use with a cactus as a tent ( Cactus as the pole, drapping the parachute over), the bright colours will attract attention.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">The sixth item was the jackknife, seemingly used to get juice from the cactus.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Seventh was the raincoat- use as a roof over a hole for shelter, then lick the condensation off for a little water.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">The eighth item was the pistol to attract attention. I can't fire a pistol - they have many safety catches.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I'd hit my colleagues over the head with it and steal their water, topcoats, parachutes and cactus juice.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirQiqBzLxl4ALTv86XBBW35th9xOK-2sQKNX7avT_tw9lcW2nNXjyyqlqD2xtT6IccMWZc67b-Oq6_IYY1iA2XlT0LOroeQvvbk2y4sxTvvFd9NNzVWg4YQ1aRLAttB6FtZphtAhd7BMkQvHMbv1WMzTrWwc_aBswNS6q-u5YSAVSHGBngsujyCV1gwcsx/s5184/IMG_0594.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirQiqBzLxl4ALTv86XBBW35th9xOK-2sQKNX7avT_tw9lcW2nNXjyyqlqD2xtT6IccMWZc67b-Oq6_IYY1iA2XlT0LOroeQvvbk2y4sxTvvFd9NNzVWg4YQ1aRLAttB6FtZphtAhd7BMkQvHMbv1WMzTrWwc_aBswNS6q-u5YSAVSHGBngsujyCV1gwcsx/s320/IMG_0594.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Ninth was a pair of sunglasses per person. I put a complaint in here as blue eyed peple are much more sensitive to sunlight than brown eyed people air, so should be allowed the sunglasses higher up the list.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Why were we in the desert without sunglasses anyway?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Tenth was the compress with gauze, the desert is sterile, seemingly, so we don't need elastoplast to keep cuts and bruises safe.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Magnetic compass. Any MIE peole know how to use a compass properly? The idea is that disorientation and confusion will set in early so trying to use a compass will simply move you from an area where the rescuers might think you are. To an area they might not search.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Any magnetics rocks in the desert?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Sectional air map of the area was the 12th on the list - so pretty useless. Best use it as toiler paper, or a hat. Not toilet paper then a hat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">A book about edible animals of the desert was number 13 but it was last on my list. No clues on how to catch them as are they not mostly nocturnal and... fast...or underground...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">The second most useless item was the vodka. I had that a number four on the basis that you could get so drunk drunk you just don't care. I was told this was a very Glaswegian answer.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">The most useless item? The salt tablets- totally useless seemingly... mmmm but .. medically? What about all those films?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3N9Ms2RB98uJIhybOSQ-iqjHuKKL632GWt7pmTfdPCNVPDa7osEX6DnbtRYVoOdBqX-kOPNe0xzk6MtjXTUQUBl1y38dfNK35Ecofs2zwg4jkqoj3aQN9kDJmrcJ-tZDSsWQ7EPzd4rLL_XWGbbFKeaQaw2i5vepxdVKBMd-KtDUeCXH58zZVqqR28RT/s5184/IMG_0596.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3N9Ms2RB98uJIhybOSQ-iqjHuKKL632GWt7pmTfdPCNVPDa7osEX6DnbtRYVoOdBqX-kOPNe0xzk6MtjXTUQUBl1y38dfNK35Ecofs2zwg4jkqoj3aQN9kDJmrcJ-tZDSsWQ7EPzd4rLL_XWGbbFKeaQaw2i5vepxdVKBMd-KtDUeCXH58zZVqqR28RT/s320/IMG_0596.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Here are some random pictures of a bit of desert.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Once you have build the tent, slaughtered the fellow hikers, you could sit sippimg vodka while admiring the view through your sunglasses.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqQIYHr_WrkHV4-My2xm0IpCfhDgOiml1czMoxVvCBwDECp10PrHxvD_hrj0fldvuuiIf0NP1MBfnaRSZ74McOEdEKWecEZc09iUkehQx158vY-zJLKYBUJv9EGG92U1GdNjNlUnm9JzRANRiHJ1gABQmzVOrQmGFS650S69jRUkkgc4UnlRNOLDecampK/s5184/IMG_0597.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqQIYHr_WrkHV4-My2xm0IpCfhDgOiml1czMoxVvCBwDECp10PrHxvD_hrj0fldvuuiIf0NP1MBfnaRSZ74McOEdEKWecEZc09iUkehQx158vY-zJLKYBUJv9EGG92U1GdNjNlUnm9JzRANRiHJ1gABQmzVOrQmGFS650S69jRUkkgc4UnlRNOLDecampK/s320/IMG_0597.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga31ewj9ZA8JLbxpWw5hrAvEz1FeN1lKWnhM6CYTDkOJxFw6zE3VlIT4tUnPPzoRVPWgb-Bh95rt1AWFSjRGZ0pxIJNm4uSJVI6UMz7Z-gAyaKRvqigk1U42UEjGNV4vo2JMnVoJNf3r9iRvlVKitJonOmEyMLcVvqODu7WI_u1ZijhJoiDfckFhwxHieb/s5184/IMG_0600.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga31ewj9ZA8JLbxpWw5hrAvEz1FeN1lKWnhM6CYTDkOJxFw6zE3VlIT4tUnPPzoRVPWgb-Bh95rt1AWFSjRGZ0pxIJNm4uSJVI6UMz7Z-gAyaKRvqigk1U42UEjGNV4vo2JMnVoJNf3r9iRvlVKitJonOmEyMLcVvqODu7WI_u1ZijhJoiDfckFhwxHieb/s320/IMG_0600.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPqHPujtF9r_F16alwCcAQOYJ7X6Qr1TclKQmSoAfDLZuJ69ZNzLGjmINuvaW6Z43pBLTy4Pqh7WTghpv-VkNatZdVokHjMyl6dmkAbXylabqNgg_4KxthIwJT44vs2Occwnd50isEubqecmHglV1ZWhEYt1MDTRhvvlaHmIlFRT2_aelv6veUfK3kONrb/s5184/IMG_0608.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPqHPujtF9r_F16alwCcAQOYJ7X6Qr1TclKQmSoAfDLZuJ69ZNzLGjmINuvaW6Z43pBLTy4Pqh7WTghpv-VkNatZdVokHjMyl6dmkAbXylabqNgg_4KxthIwJT44vs2Occwnd50isEubqecmHglV1ZWhEYt1MDTRhvvlaHmIlFRT2_aelv6veUfK3kONrb/s320/IMG_0608.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQcgDmmHXEkxJtNSnrVspli0KfWabc6CuR4UA5ffBNQ0zjH99-VO9FsA1LbEbLFakNlW3fgaEXJIUW1CLcC1L1TIVXW5nQnIcaRCK-EkfcVn8Tx0pTQ9j_fm92BRqf8HpN5gsaYeejpNEsQ89Cy1tOo5oIm25CJDH3l_d65CtRk4FAJeHepGyDrScFYo1/s5184/IMG_0613.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQcgDmmHXEkxJtNSnrVspli0KfWabc6CuR4UA5ffBNQ0zjH99-VO9FsA1LbEbLFakNlW3fgaEXJIUW1CLcC1L1TIVXW5nQnIcaRCK-EkfcVn8Tx0pTQ9j_fm92BRqf8HpN5gsaYeejpNEsQ89Cy1tOo5oIm25CJDH3l_d65CtRk4FAJeHepGyDrScFYo1/s320/IMG_0613.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9da5q52l15KT2CeG3WcCuHtQ56tQI7GBQTVxiCo4NXnQl4cocoPJFIQJiPys9tQRPgYKVQnEkI50cdnRCOfILGMOZ0weip7Npt7Q_FHyENTH1QbBKbGQZBidQvlqirljpJk_DwjF_Qrns0kdf5whjWJmIAjsaEMbyqOEihM1v3pAMotA4cMLdy7rQLGuT/s5184/IMG_0615.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9da5q52l15KT2CeG3WcCuHtQ56tQI7GBQTVxiCo4NXnQl4cocoPJFIQJiPys9tQRPgYKVQnEkI50cdnRCOfILGMOZ0weip7Npt7Q_FHyENTH1QbBKbGQZBidQvlqirljpJk_DwjF_Qrns0kdf5whjWJmIAjsaEMbyqOEihM1v3pAMotA4cMLdy7rQLGuT/s320/IMG_0615.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> Caro</div><p></p>Caro Ramsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08499318515241879831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-83296952497921017532024-03-07T00:00:00.007-05:002024-03-07T07:41:43.232-05:00Welcome to the Birthplace of the Oscars<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Wendall--every other Thursday</span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Since the 96th Academy Awards are airing this weekend, I
thought it might be a good time to post about the place they were born: The
Biltmore Hotel (now the Millennium Biltmore) in downtown Los Angeles. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgyctVGaroRgDFb0e27CZqyug87njSF3HSbRdHnLjyIakj6mBrHtP9rRB-7hw0xW4uMnGBzu9VbVVFV2y4PsImRDg2hZdlncKF9Aj4FxLoayXNrLhwbaWPljw0E3LdwSt3fRrcYQhlV2BqsSz7jB6M-yks1l26KtS2W3TmE_tnH81TLsrS7kKK7F0fm8Pb/s1200/Biltmore%20Galeria%2012-13.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgyctVGaroRgDFb0e27CZqyug87njSF3HSbRdHnLjyIakj6mBrHtP9rRB-7hw0xW4uMnGBzu9VbVVFV2y4PsImRDg2hZdlncKF9Aj4FxLoayXNrLhwbaWPljw0E3LdwSt3fRrcYQhlV2BqsSz7jB6M-yks1l26KtS2W3TmE_tnH81TLsrS7kKK7F0fm8Pb/s320/Biltmore%20Galeria%2012-13.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Galleria of the Millennium Biltmore Hotel<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjnLF18Et5S4oTvz1WWTsoG32zlY-v2MDUUVnNl12R2SQX0VEevRXplZQjaAyJiNUUfLoGCdecyW_nyPCCPwnP7tsvXIGGUx-R4qHiNFAgWTwrcKQSrTSsMPk2tXWPx0OK07Nqiie19U_PIo9EvA8ZH-2vga9Oio50zM5i2RPgcEV5pzhGPRsPJvXv3fUq/s1032/1927%20Academy%20Founding%20Banquet.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="1032" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjnLF18Et5S4oTvz1WWTsoG32zlY-v2MDUUVnNl12R2SQX0VEevRXplZQjaAyJiNUUfLoGCdecyW_nyPCCPwnP7tsvXIGGUx-R4qHiNFAgWTwrcKQSrTSsMPk2tXWPx0OK07Nqiie19U_PIo9EvA8ZH-2vga9Oio50zM5i2RPgcEV5pzhGPRsPJvXv3fUq/s320/1927%20Academy%20Founding%20Banquet.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Founding Banquet for the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences, 1927.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Happily, since my journalist husband, James Bartlett, has
often written about the hotel and is somewhat of an expert on
its history, he’s allowed me to quote from some of his pieces, so the quotes in italics are his.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i> </i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>“<span>The
Biltmore was actually the first home of the Oscars. The Academy of Motion
Picture Arts & Sciences was founded over lunch in the Crystal Ballroom in
May 1927, and it’s said that MGM art director Cedric Gibbons sketched the
design for the Oscar statue on a napkin.”</span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span> </span></i></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwBLYhGFn4zQgw9QC6mJKGyjQ8-er4SHNY8l3SoChGX5tN896gdTVa6pk1H6ORzFiM6uijj4N20kgRdyKFuJZdczY0kRwCdXDZnkR8BJqZphkL1Tx7PJRFGN-hQdN42vI6CbLlTTIUuXph44W0Pu6faDMLjPPn_bvLMm8l5FivYrbUn0h4eoevCnWew1S/s952/Oscar%20napkin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="952" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwBLYhGFn4zQgw9QC6mJKGyjQ8-er4SHNY8l3SoChGX5tN896gdTVa6pk1H6ORzFiM6uijj4N20kgRdyKFuJZdczY0kRwCdXDZnkR8BJqZphkL1Tx7PJRFGN-hQdN42vI6CbLlTTIUuXph44W0Pu6faDMLjPPn_bvLMm8l5FivYrbUn0h4eoevCnWew1S/s320/Oscar%20napkin.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's said the original design for the Oscar statuette was sketched on a napkin in the Biltmore's Crystal Ballroom.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><i> </i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><i>“Eight
Oscar ceremonies were held in the Biltmore Bowl room in the 1930s and early
1940s, and in 1977 Bob Hope hosted the Academy’s 50th Anniversary here.”</i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><i> </i></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpbosZ0t2I1Ri8sDI9OreTB6u7wy5eusUhmnjgJaRpRhsFEyN1dZIEtDDuHPZ4Gc7iQtz5YdvZ9BPcdUKaBfPwap_iHSzpyxscXLuUISEjLCrxxn71QHznBmq5RMMA6H2pCIkhbAttz89L7Lhr1l08xwl26RsJtP1Vb_0Naj95pfkirQ6vtXUXgkrD62Dj/s984/1937%20Oscar%20Banquet.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="464" data-original-width="984" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpbosZ0t2I1Ri8sDI9OreTB6u7wy5eusUhmnjgJaRpRhsFEyN1dZIEtDDuHPZ4Gc7iQtz5YdvZ9BPcdUKaBfPwap_iHSzpyxscXLuUISEjLCrxxn71QHznBmq5RMMA6H2pCIkhbAttz89L7Lhr1l08xwl26RsJtP1Vb_0Naj95pfkirQ6vtXUXgkrD62Dj/s320/1937%20Oscar%20Banquet.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Oscar Banquet 1937. So many famous faces. Look for Henry Fonda and Walt Disney down front.</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS44PYIHbJvzE4pi0r_vHvHhFVMVb9tSmYV0AmMxp2-eMeDCqBblwrzsXl32wRQ3ffRxT8zaHGQz0Ko3inKUHdSe40lC59VcLOYpnN0bBS3tdGDPNQhkcC_uzbeursv5pl5NbS6gF4c1a4WFSADJ4yq1Q4_Iy3nZ3nN_CY9AHDt2BcCp4zefCXxG79sqgR/s1117/1939%20Oscar%20Banquet.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="639" data-original-width="1117" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS44PYIHbJvzE4pi0r_vHvHhFVMVb9tSmYV0AmMxp2-eMeDCqBblwrzsXl32wRQ3ffRxT8zaHGQz0Ko3inKUHdSe40lC59VcLOYpnN0bBS3tdGDPNQhkcC_uzbeursv5pl5NbS6gF4c1a4WFSADJ4yq1Q4_Iy3nZ3nN_CY9AHDt2BcCp4zefCXxG79sqgR/s320/1939%20Oscar%20Banquet.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oscar Banquet 1939.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><i><br /></i><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KK__a5aolhgRCSc1Mxe4qA34qWug9RMcyDQEFNT3lolGhdFJljYLqsfWfzFhRh6YMkCvmMP2b8fXgpFr_o16VjR_7fjiCJQOMLrotAhnJwnHnStuU-bzt4-yhSkH6HsURmtJ3aWs9CFDsG6F7ls3Wg4QaaZ5LZjf0av7qV38At3JjvYu6MVaLOmG-dR2/s455/Best%20Actor%20Clark%20Gable%201935.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="455" data-original-width="371" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KK__a5aolhgRCSc1Mxe4qA34qWug9RMcyDQEFNT3lolGhdFJljYLqsfWfzFhRh6YMkCvmMP2b8fXgpFr_o16VjR_7fjiCJQOMLrotAhnJwnHnStuU-bzt4-yhSkH6HsURmtJ3aWs9CFDsG6F7ls3Wg4QaaZ5LZjf0av7qV38At3JjvYu6MVaLOmG-dR2/s320/Best%20Actor%20Clark%20Gable%201935.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best Actor winner Clark Gable in the ballroom in 1935.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDBK0PqGPzpGOCA7A8Q9jPik68jlGJ6EDTvFM625ceAzjbNhkoez0dLhmBqJuZNvgNsuWi7mPSN7yOChFFTSDPWgrYqRJUPlntXDbKPWLhEgzo8kStwMkLSnxzlN60xUmJHTtki3sj7HZX_vlkVvFP66buFWwaxCdxaKDWYqVIt5l8LfP6ZbEa_I78tbPs/s523/Spencer%20Tracy%20and%20Bette%20Davis%201939.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="387" data-original-width="523" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDBK0PqGPzpGOCA7A8Q9jPik68jlGJ6EDTvFM625ceAzjbNhkoez0dLhmBqJuZNvgNsuWi7mPSN7yOChFFTSDPWgrYqRJUPlntXDbKPWLhEgzo8kStwMkLSnxzlN60xUmJHTtki3sj7HZX_vlkVvFP66buFWwaxCdxaKDWYqVIt5l8LfP6ZbEa_I78tbPs/s320/Spencer%20Tracy%20and%20Bette%20Davis%201939.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spencer Tracy and Bette Davis winning in 1939.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>The
hotel opened its doors to the public on October 2, 1923 and was considered “as beautiful, as
colorful, as vibrant as the city with which its destiny is linked.”<span> </span></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZ9HW4lfXFjpwSfFChrSWy0_Sk1Jw9AW1CVsQg6NogE0HhC03Rq6L-QQwlmQC8NR16sFhZY2oy7jjYUUBTtVpjMiT3bLTkGFk7jLqq6zsvhlAoFt6bkktYotHlZmgS7GtVRqVk95218te97oledqyVlVE3B_WkBslvLBZW3OT5RTQikh6no3PSb4-6P26/s2000/Biltmore%20Opening%20Dinner%20Program%20Cover.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1317" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZ9HW4lfXFjpwSfFChrSWy0_Sk1Jw9AW1CVsQg6NogE0HhC03Rq6L-QQwlmQC8NR16sFhZY2oy7jjYUUBTtVpjMiT3bLTkGFk7jLqq6zsvhlAoFt6bkktYotHlZmgS7GtVRqVk95218te97oledqyVlVE3B_WkBslvLBZW3OT5RTQikh6no3PSb4-6P26/s320/Biltmore%20Opening%20Dinner%20Program%20Cover.JPG" width="211" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Opening program from 1923.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyps-aSifQ3K9omr_e5eVc_BB6kqqBFpXdhkEvQk_SnIrdAWwZ8ifOMuBIHrSgtx-VPa_dplUhTP1QEUm_QF-c3EOhie_Z_8DNbgRJRk82GY9y5UIRn1B54aJQQCEdz1whchlf_ZFipYC12snXz1RpZAB967V5_4JTUxR-pfcMO9Ixtsjj44erOAi0D6xa/s1949/Biltmore%20Crystal%20Room%20Historic.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1483" data-original-width="1949" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyps-aSifQ3K9omr_e5eVc_BB6kqqBFpXdhkEvQk_SnIrdAWwZ8ifOMuBIHrSgtx-VPa_dplUhTP1QEUm_QF-c3EOhie_Z_8DNbgRJRk82GY9y5UIRn1B54aJQQCEdz1whchlf_ZFipYC12snXz1RpZAB967V5_4JTUxR-pfcMO9Ixtsjj44erOAi0D6xa/s320/Biltmore%20Crystal%20Room%20Historic.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Crystal Ballroom, empty, in 1923.</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><i> </i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><i>“Visitors
and guests still marvel at its murals, marble floors, wood paneling, frescoes,
fountains, and chandeliers, and it is said you can find 1000 “Biltmore Angels”
(representing the City of Angels) everywhere from the carpet to the ceilings.”</i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><i> </i></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-o5vgeeYz9IgqFMGWW3MiMmNy8MgLj30ncCarFdt930Lffqe1ydw7AC8n1lTcpKdLjP0dn8AIPh9akh3k-ChpHWObEffftA0YOustWFn2CLgqAlzotf-sqvgn0pgQF1Wnicsn6toq_p6HMlx8XiyIkIK24N47V9hmuNfcfZGR9FPsL7dODtlevhtxIVa/s2700/AngelSideDetail.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-o5vgeeYz9IgqFMGWW3MiMmNy8MgLj30ncCarFdt930Lffqe1ydw7AC8n1lTcpKdLjP0dn8AIPh9akh3k-ChpHWObEffftA0YOustWFn2CLgqAlzotf-sqvgn0pgQF1Wnicsn6toq_p6HMlx8XiyIkIK24N47V9hmuNfcfZGR9FPsL7dODtlevhtxIVa/s320/AngelSideDetail.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Angels, angels everywhere.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><i><br /></i></span></span><p></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQTZwd3MgTE0H86X_2bVJuREuXlh_Q_reEbPwcXc5_wKfe6JnYmt115bJ7nFBDIrTNOA9M34HwV7o1ISrB4L7QxG1iB7moO8TsYHyOBfBYZDa_RGq2J01bPI-0_BKKrXkqWY18m41gDmbzYuDUj-8yvg1YOrUpq8HYzDTPqZpEpe_UEwevZf5Otz-ERzHI/s4032/PXL_20231207_175839291.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQTZwd3MgTE0H86X_2bVJuREuXlh_Q_reEbPwcXc5_wKfe6JnYmt115bJ7nFBDIrTNOA9M34HwV7o1ISrB4L7QxG1iB7moO8TsYHyOBfBYZDa_RGq2J01bPI-0_BKKrXkqWY18m41gDmbzYuDUj-8yvg1YOrUpq8HYzDTPqZpEpe_UEwevZf5Otz-ERzHI/s320/PXL_20231207_175839291.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Including on the glass door.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2VwXI_ugSkQSl-Ol34_s2AaNl5rK1UKinDrTo17Aa00cLhO3LTdaJE9qmdW4Ih38Yh7srS1blO_DgXqFMVcmQJHkc6IQ6oQUnEmINjq8o24oA3n6C_9Scvt9xsaeF4Rk4AU3PtHQtIqm8xQfE2F5rq2ox9NWNNjFcSXDF3DByjok8k-0iRwEciYA163e4/s752/Rendezvous%20Court%2010-06.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="752" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2VwXI_ugSkQSl-Ol34_s2AaNl5rK1UKinDrTo17Aa00cLhO3LTdaJE9qmdW4Ih38Yh7srS1blO_DgXqFMVcmQJHkc6IQ6oQUnEmINjq8o24oA3n6C_9Scvt9xsaeF4Rk4AU3PtHQtIqm8xQfE2F5rq2ox9NWNNjFcSXDF3DByjok8k-0iRwEciYA163e4/s320/Rendezvous%20Court%2010-06.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rendezvous Court from the stairs. It was the original lobby.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6o9oQNRiLCyZXov2aWMjXkAybBEWJyI8y3EDnX6s_21KICph-H8ZYvvuJD6GVbS6Fxz5mWSdKah1qB5kMA3bBi52YuABxn79n8K9hsArDJNnHTj7tsglnbSQk_n7oo-fAD2xigJOe1bEsrJ13UMhkPLZ1Y2XOMnGLrtmGBkHeLlr7KVbPr8sq0YxXeX9x/s4032/PXL_20231207_012242815.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6o9oQNRiLCyZXov2aWMjXkAybBEWJyI8y3EDnX6s_21KICph-H8ZYvvuJD6GVbS6Fxz5mWSdKah1qB5kMA3bBi52YuABxn79n8K9hsArDJNnHTj7tsglnbSQk_n7oo-fAD2xigJOe1bEsrJ13UMhkPLZ1Y2XOMnGLrtmGBkHeLlr7KVbPr8sq0YxXeX9x/s320/PXL_20231207_012242815.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking the other way. I get to stand on the staircase Betty Draper came down in <i>Mad Men</i>.</td></tr></tbody></table></span></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqPgybsn5b4qBTCeL-7aO4UUUN0Q8PTHvTl8pfkQUub6COSy5pHDKju4I6vrAWBHLk-sChoynDk9jXpND0BxZTlAeEz7K8UUYZZJYsUfMsMhUu7o0bSE32nyvA-Vdgv8NiAvFAyGdbHEMuIDeXRBhzLtVCAXzyOJS2viIfvzZNaiUpwGkBjaL_IpbrCxCJ/s800/Lobby%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="800" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqPgybsn5b4qBTCeL-7aO4UUUN0Q8PTHvTl8pfkQUub6COSy5pHDKju4I6vrAWBHLk-sChoynDk9jXpND0BxZTlAeEz7K8UUYZZJYsUfMsMhUu7o0bSE32nyvA-Vdgv8NiAvFAyGdbHEMuIDeXRBhzLtVCAXzyOJS2viIfvzZNaiUpwGkBjaL_IpbrCxCJ/s320/Lobby%20(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The current lobby used to be a restaurant.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghCtMDCtt8V34-6OOdtkMtsapzsy_xgCvLLT56AblKeYq4ntEX7mD6J6W6GIAVienXB2gVX18y6ai-GdgK7NSsm2aAh7_sFLvcnTbwRKEnfsfiozyXaEIpRIARVYeYh9g4qbXQ7PXTywXeAWqu8RMrzL50nt7d3xOvDmbaSJESeSCPNcuFhlckBzD4ikOU/s1200/Gallery%20Bar.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghCtMDCtt8V34-6OOdtkMtsapzsy_xgCvLLT56AblKeYq4ntEX7mD6J6W6GIAVienXB2gVX18y6ai-GdgK7NSsm2aAh7_sFLvcnTbwRKEnfsfiozyXaEIpRIARVYeYh9g4qbXQ7PXTywXeAWqu8RMrzL50nt7d3xOvDmbaSJESeSCPNcuFhlckBzD4ikOU/s320/Gallery%20Bar.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">The original Gallery Bar. Gimlets, anyone?</span><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>You’ve
seen glimpses of this amazing hotel in more films and television shows than you
may realize. It’s appeared in the original <i>Ghostbusters</i>, <i>Chinatown</i>,
<i>Vertigo</i>, <i>Beverly Hills Cop,</i> <i>The Sting</i>, <i>Splash</i>, <i>Bugsy</i>,
<i>Spider Man</i>, and <i>In the Line of Fire</i>, and this year’s Oscar
nominee <i>Oppenheimer</i>, to name a few. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Bkwm8tSYrrOL5-DXjlknfM-4P3kpUUahiTNmvlCUs_VOy15DHyeGjYbca3-APbQfvWEccYr6XBo80Gv5gnmJZj023INIZf2dckdBeqWdairK3E9DFwzImZ_Ij5hdLhBpT0MHCeCuEG1iZd6dhrRjETmRndKN4XRoEIQJN8ItLa6mGA7PCkqDn4KnooPS/s1843/Ghostbusters%203.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1843" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Bkwm8tSYrrOL5-DXjlknfM-4P3kpUUahiTNmvlCUs_VOy15DHyeGjYbca3-APbQfvWEccYr6XBo80Gv5gnmJZj023INIZf2dckdBeqWdairK3E9DFwzImZ_Ij5hdLhBpT0MHCeCuEG1iZd6dhrRjETmRndKN4XRoEIQJN8ItLa6mGA7PCkqDn4KnooPS/s320/Ghostbusters%203.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Peter Venkman has arrived!<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhm09NuK6Be9n3KAQXJCfA7b5fJwaixNrFUndNPyrpbPfstYjWPDwkyY6XRAG8Uy_MEvwVtr2T-DgIwbXfqPYl5BbiUBSbEk03ziHiPyu8mE1IGYrG6ocYA5PBzuv07FXDpAOrwIe5YR_kv9TbaHHlK5lEiSgQ6KsUjt4TL59VF1NJcWD_l0EfqX7Tdq8H/s1600/Ghostbusters%20Millennium%20Biltmore%20filmtourismus.jpg.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhm09NuK6Be9n3KAQXJCfA7b5fJwaixNrFUndNPyrpbPfstYjWPDwkyY6XRAG8Uy_MEvwVtr2T-DgIwbXfqPYl5BbiUBSbEk03ziHiPyu8mE1IGYrG6ocYA5PBzuv07FXDpAOrwIe5YR_kv9TbaHHlK5lEiSgQ6KsUjt4TL59VF1NJcWD_l0EfqX7Tdq8H/s320/Ghostbusters%20Millennium%20Biltmore%20filmtourismus.jpg.webp" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig0Jc-ujV0_2TO1gFGxX1okPqlM_OOd0icYbWA5F_a0G9Hwa5HtNUseWbfPKHdEU8z0UpCmC_N_zJ-XjmmSMru0Rn8IkvxktVq_8-1jnX1PmZoiGN2unwOUsngEmJ9QxcKo7CJlcztRjpZvpq2F-d1DAhaiq0PDXrnEv5IciW5Edzdq_oVfndoNbYg3Sr2/s960/BiltmoreSideLane_Chinatown.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="407" data-original-width="960" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig0Jc-ujV0_2TO1gFGxX1okPqlM_OOd0icYbWA5F_a0G9Hwa5HtNUseWbfPKHdEU8z0UpCmC_N_zJ-XjmmSMru0Rn8IkvxktVq_8-1jnX1PmZoiGN2unwOUsngEmJ9QxcKo7CJlcztRjpZvpq2F-d1DAhaiq0PDXrnEv5IciW5Edzdq_oVfndoNbYg3Sr2/s320/BiltmoreSideLane_Chinatown.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">They used the side of the hotel to shoot the scene where Evelyn Mulwray hires Jake Gittes in<i> Chinatown</i>.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXW_gwVjmy4C-2lalRWGXAoPyE737Von3ewkxXwwwFvpc1rZs6v-Qi46U_-kbPElzcpO0EzSQWSMtn9JFlmy-X_AIu5oUN_FAnjREg1nCFy56qZrkBwvtyzbBBuz5zE0LfmubHhb6oZbbgsDaLPO9gzeoh8Z9AVO-FB-q92PH8LamKWqd7YkA_SpVInm5/s600/3702_beverly%20hills%20cop_the%20millennium%20biltmore%20hotel_1.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="319" data-original-width="600" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXW_gwVjmy4C-2lalRWGXAoPyE737Von3ewkxXwwwFvpc1rZs6v-Qi46U_-kbPElzcpO0EzSQWSMtn9JFlmy-X_AIu5oUN_FAnjREg1nCFy56qZrkBwvtyzbBBuz5zE0LfmubHhb6oZbbgsDaLPO9gzeoh8Z9AVO-FB-q92PH8LamKWqd7YkA_SpVInm5/s320/3702_beverly%20hills%20cop_the%20millennium%20biltmore%20hotel_1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Eddie Murphy checks out the scene in <i>Beverly Hills Cop</i>.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>It’s also stood in for a myriad of
locations in <i>Mad Men, Bosch</i>, <i>The Catch, Glee, The West Wing, Columbo,</i>
and dozens of other shows. </span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWPSFmN_oW_K3SLcGmfqMRwn1pQLtDZOCpsIWWZO0sLI5ZkG1a13rKc0_O4FMu3bnZ2omydbuMe7mgqR6Be5RgDgrnpsm4V6nr4lZmTpac3gSNHwV3FoD8RhclrQPbgOQ40qG6Ie3MLZwcGGlZ8_1HxvErRHicYZ3kgAsqNM4-wUykSkqz_BQ1WQkO0ZX4/s600/1104_06_MadMen_MillenniumBiltmoreHotel_01.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWPSFmN_oW_K3SLcGmfqMRwn1pQLtDZOCpsIWWZO0sLI5ZkG1a13rKc0_O4FMu3bnZ2omydbuMe7mgqR6Be5RgDgrnpsm4V6nr4lZmTpac3gSNHwV3FoD8RhclrQPbgOQ40qG6Ie3MLZwcGGlZ8_1HxvErRHicYZ3kgAsqNM4-wUykSkqz_BQ1WQkO0ZX4/s320/1104_06_MadMen_MillenniumBiltmoreHotel_01.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Mad Men</i> shot all around the hotel.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /> </span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8TAorEOP6pw-qnsQwJSQ5edVAaTEFl-o7lmzoX7VokQCgMzJcDDoCNBblS-UH2zHCFJ8GKWa3_QMnecAmnviaajNjd36wpMGFV0ZA1NQXnlWtNUdg2U1yY8vay0jWL0L444aema90T9HS0aNn5r4oixfaZHjuEcpPuQhLUFZoFL3msMJHb1NWcNQtcH25/s800/bosch.webp" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="800" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8TAorEOP6pw-qnsQwJSQ5edVAaTEFl-o7lmzoX7VokQCgMzJcDDoCNBblS-UH2zHCFJ8GKWa3_QMnecAmnviaajNjd36wpMGFV0ZA1NQXnlWtNUdg2U1yY8vay0jWL0L444aema90T9HS0aNn5r4oixfaZHjuEcpPuQhLUFZoFL3msMJHb1NWcNQtcH25/s320/bosch.webp" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Harry Bosch waiting for trouble in the Gallery Bar.</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>And, though I hesitate to give Taylor Swift more
oxygen than she already has, her music video “Delicate” was shot in the hotel
and offers great views of the lobby, ballrooms, and central hallway. </span>(<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tCXGJQYZ9JA">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tCXGJQYZ9JA</a>). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">You can find a more complete list of Biltmore appearances by scrolling down on
its Wiki page: (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Millennium_Biltmore_Hotel">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Millennium_Biltmore_Hotel</a>)</span>
</p><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It's also a part of Los Angeles history in many other ways.
It dedicated its second floor for military personnel during WWII, hosted the
Democratic National Convention in 1960—where John F. Kennedy was chosen as
candidate—boasted a Beatles stay during their first US tour in 1964, and was
headquarters for the Los Angeles Olympic committee in 1984.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2-RPStjY6bs5OFWyvWRoMNzyfea-KVtijGwwwPi-ZDQzGRb3j170gQPH_NzryLajzIjTSS6U923kUyBHYqqFxuAimo4w1ypvOzDTr2Yg6H19srAduwvy0bXfQozcaCY02AH_z-02mQvDJA7uHmXJqTgejxfbDzG2Ik2VYIpixEkYrMYeeT8k-tZEv9vkh/s1044/Biltmore%201960%20Democatic%20National%20Conv%20Headquarters.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1044" data-original-width="705" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2-RPStjY6bs5OFWyvWRoMNzyfea-KVtijGwwwPi-ZDQzGRb3j170gQPH_NzryLajzIjTSS6U923kUyBHYqqFxuAimo4w1ypvOzDTr2Yg6H19srAduwvy0bXfQozcaCY02AH_z-02mQvDJA7uHmXJqTgejxfbDzG2Ik2VYIpixEkYrMYeeT8k-tZEv9vkh/s320/Biltmore%201960%20Democatic%20National%20Conv%20Headquarters.jpg" width="216" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JFK was nominated from here.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The hotel also has a crime—and crime fiction—connection,
since <span>it was here that the victim of Los Angeles's most famous unsolved murder, Elizabeth Short, was last
seen alive on January 9, 1947. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHRoBePnDRNMeQVuH8teeX_GOGqwH7q_DTO7IB5r4baDHFGzD3NhNA9wHCXjD16naCxxM9aE31I7YdmRqyBPBOI2IZCJ8cIImbwkZ0LfN6fJpzl4GDn708Uqp6lugZAY9RMgvUpI76RqVftockQJJ6LhnA8Gnt7BC8wHhRysxWJnGyRZ7k8cp64njgCjWl/s1503/Elizabeth%20Short,%20undated%20photo.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1503" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHRoBePnDRNMeQVuH8teeX_GOGqwH7q_DTO7IB5r4baDHFGzD3NhNA9wHCXjD16naCxxM9aE31I7YdmRqyBPBOI2IZCJ8cIImbwkZ0LfN6fJpzl4GDn708Uqp6lugZAY9RMgvUpI76RqVftockQJJ6LhnA8Gnt7BC8wHhRysxWJnGyRZ7k8cp64njgCjWl/s320/Elizabeth%20Short,%20undated%20photo.jpg" width="255" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elizabeth Short, the Black Dahlia.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Her gruesome murder a few days later became
Hollywood’s most notorious after she was nicknamed the "Black Dahlia." The Gallery Bar, which until about five years ago still felt like a place you could drink a gimlet
with Raymond Chandler, now has mounted television screens which kill the
illusion a bit, but its design is still stunning-- and you can lift a Black
Dahlia cocktail to Elizabeth Short and the LA that used to be. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTPF5r7RbOaUhKTXO6jPrwaLK_-xSgy6b1ruDXDAE4PZ5FeIgM43bD25S_s5lWYfehBu6JO8ua12QYHrJDXfd508V7cQ3d3pzh7z1FbADRO07J1HEOFbsjWUvcUkGsw_rDuhH-pqs9wscDJhSpAtJKphy2iFcntZyURbQmR8HHwOKVxsGzW_SwTCnvP2Gw/s2618/Black%20Dahlia%20martini%20Biltmore%20Hotel%20no%20credit.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2618" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTPF5r7RbOaUhKTXO6jPrwaLK_-xSgy6b1ruDXDAE4PZ5FeIgM43bD25S_s5lWYfehBu6JO8ua12QYHrJDXfd508V7cQ3d3pzh7z1FbADRO07J1HEOFbsjWUvcUkGsw_rDuhH-pqs9wscDJhSpAtJKphy2iFcntZyURbQmR8HHwOKVxsGzW_SwTCnvP2Gw/s320/Black%20Dahlia%20martini%20Biltmore%20Hotel%20no%20credit.jpg" width="220" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Black Dahlia cocktail: Citrus Vodka, Chambord, and Kahlua.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>We
were beyond privileged to be invited to its 100th anniversary black tie celebration
in the Crystal Ballroom last October, where, as noted above, the idea for the Oscars
was born. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8rMbjzAl5MIRXGSLh735QWG5_ETkm3Xa-bXGc-yfzZCBeGDiNqEPQim_0GZL3OSz3LlHCb8Nv8tJr1KMEcxi_g4s2AdoHXK7kmAF0Q-59Mqi2h3UCNAZVAxc2J1ZbROqUpxSW5GhPec_j1grUp2-__zmz_9_z2seMh046K1WAMKrBh44LyEP7iZfvras7/s4032/PXL_20231207_030618435.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8rMbjzAl5MIRXGSLh735QWG5_ETkm3Xa-bXGc-yfzZCBeGDiNqEPQim_0GZL3OSz3LlHCb8Nv8tJr1KMEcxi_g4s2AdoHXK7kmAF0Q-59Mqi2h3UCNAZVAxc2J1ZbROqUpxSW5GhPec_j1grUp2-__zmz_9_z2seMh046K1WAMKrBh44LyEP7iZfvras7/s320/PXL_20231207_030618435.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The stage in the Crystal Ballroom awaits its Big Band.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDaSCS_BOv_k-w06KgyWgRVBTNmVxmkrtlebJEnUD2sNb7UqqaewOBxqA02wuTShP0cuCS5Xreeu9B8TtRizuGmmVEVOdH0nAY4Hiff6yGMTtWeIwOlE1Ornkvgr7Sb15HXAIrsVsuajO80jqnNE2A1sKMiA0ItYhjuUjKyY7fwtQNYgLbahLveHqcn1Bs/s2048/Getting%20ready.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1522" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDaSCS_BOv_k-w06KgyWgRVBTNmVxmkrtlebJEnUD2sNb7UqqaewOBxqA02wuTShP0cuCS5Xreeu9B8TtRizuGmmVEVOdH0nAY4Hiff6yGMTtWeIwOlE1Ornkvgr7Sb15HXAIrsVsuajO80jqnNE2A1sKMiA0ItYhjuUjKyY7fwtQNYgLbahLveHqcn1Bs/s320/Getting%20ready.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ready in our room!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span> </span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>This involved our finding a tux for James in the local store “It's a Wrap!,” which features second hand film and television costumes, and my digging
out a 1920s beaded top. The hotel was kind enough to give us a room. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz3mQW4SsRaVzkwcfzhY60hiZpiIqMPzA7YHZb55M3ljjHoR393YDyyJSRenc0dyPLUpMISQPfVlTIPEWyGSUaUfP2Cq7OMsbIw7S4B54rntar95ZXWYgm0tArmKZMIEynzgImq9IVr2XdI0opPyuHIQ66ZSGdZZgMBFU1pJZ1yrfe1_gVt6ciB0o8jSPw/s4032/PXL_20231207_030612741.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz3mQW4SsRaVzkwcfzhY60hiZpiIqMPzA7YHZb55M3ljjHoR393YDyyJSRenc0dyPLUpMISQPfVlTIPEWyGSUaUfP2Cq7OMsbIw7S4B54rntar95ZXWYgm0tArmKZMIEynzgImq9IVr2XdI0opPyuHIQ66ZSGdZZgMBFU1pJZ1yrfe1_gVt6ciB0o8jSPw/s320/PXL_20231207_030612741.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our table.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2_DrvMdVfj8sy2aesfVWa2wyiC8ZLRRZCtD9C3KPLhgwWDUDMba-x8zBCXXPfP2fLQ0fq-9Ld85yqrAXYUrrvPPRJtFlZqrD0nLiMGevz0eJjWb984IN30tkp7ZNYv4E45M6YFirOIictymgngwbtbUVkXUCTKomJnWYCmTavQrFrCmZA1foDNB6zBhCL/s3051/Ceiling%20crystal%20ballroom.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1373" data-original-width="3051" height="144" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2_DrvMdVfj8sy2aesfVWa2wyiC8ZLRRZCtD9C3KPLhgwWDUDMba-x8zBCXXPfP2fLQ0fq-9Ld85yqrAXYUrrvPPRJtFlZqrD0nLiMGevz0eJjWb984IN30tkp7ZNYv4E45M6YFirOIictymgngwbtbUVkXUCTKomJnWYCmTavQrFrCmZA1foDNB6zBhCL/s320/Ceiling%20crystal%20ballroom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ceiling!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span> </span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>In addition
to cocktails, dinner, and a live big band, the event sought to recreate the famous black and white photo of the ballroom's opening in 1923. We can't believe we are in it!</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirO3od46x2IWzGFxkWN1zbZK5P-WdU_godvfX9Xj94kE91lowBW8hCylHDvo9XIs_6zAsRBp4qSTP1LCSskSTb3CPCzold6988F2G2EcgkE6PJwv8F5v6O0ITp68agCKBy1y7vLKYCDVBE3nV6zLdqS85wu7x2vQKAxJWD9Ap7daDZARLmKT0d_vqeHCEj/s948/Biltmore%201923%20Opening%20Gala.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="509" data-original-width="948" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirO3od46x2IWzGFxkWN1zbZK5P-WdU_godvfX9Xj94kE91lowBW8hCylHDvo9XIs_6zAsRBp4qSTP1LCSskSTb3CPCzold6988F2G2EcgkE6PJwv8F5v6O0ITp68agCKBy1y7vLKYCDVBE3nV6zLdqS85wu7x2vQKAxJWD9Ap7daDZARLmKT0d_vqeHCEj/s320/Biltmore%201923%20Opening%20Gala.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Biltmore opening Gala, 1923</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAsbgmzN8FDdUX4x2y7faSzW58WWbunlh4rPELvD1M9T89hP06_2aDgIw3dG2m-0GgISScwfDSxI2-pE-0CCAXV1caXKQwFttfPyL4GMlRP9Zccak5T8r9jVn8az-Pw2sz_t89101A5E7O9ZkNeeC7Vx6SQbbBfV-S-WXhC4krEoDxUPS2xa2F8j2CADTd/s640/Biltmore%20big%20with%20arrow.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="287" data-original-width="640" height="144" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAsbgmzN8FDdUX4x2y7faSzW58WWbunlh4rPELvD1M9T89hP06_2aDgIw3dG2m-0GgISScwfDSxI2-pE-0CCAXV1caXKQwFttfPyL4GMlRP9Zccak5T8r9jVn8az-Pw2sz_t89101A5E7O9ZkNeeC7Vx6SQbbBfV-S-WXhC4krEoDxUPS2xa2F8j2CADTd/s320/Biltmore%20big%20with%20arrow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">100th Anniversary Gala 2023 (see red arrow)</span>.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaGjF6adzsMfz3MBjgO7akbRkQJycVt8yWbb7mXCED_s2ocE-BdW73FuH5NehiNVsWdNyfxQYs72XHJWlVyWhTlvuqk9b0fR0P3iaPoEFniDm_aOHRS7myJJlMAYwLyBfqiUlpc-f-5ams5qJIMZoLAYQd8j-NayMsySo0lr4OAXXjcldT36GHEfyzKuK-/s391/smaller%20Biltmore.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="349" data-original-width="391" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaGjF6adzsMfz3MBjgO7akbRkQJycVt8yWbb7mXCED_s2ocE-BdW73FuH5NehiNVsWdNyfxQYs72XHJWlVyWhTlvuqk9b0fR0P3iaPoEFniDm_aOHRS7myJJlMAYwLyBfqiUlpc-f-5ams5qJIMZoLAYQd8j-NayMsySo0lr4OAXXjcldT36GHEfyzKuK-/s320/smaller%20Biltmore.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">If
you’re visiting Los Angeles, I highly recommend a drink or high tea in the
hotel, or better yet, </span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">a
stay in this part of movie history.</span></span><p></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
---Wendall<br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><style><font size="4">@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</font></style><span> <br /></span></span></p><p><br /></p>Wendall Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17478448774987982221noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-57376411683724397522024-03-06T06:00:00.003-05:002024-03-06T06:00:00.145-05:00KWEI’S OSCAR MOVIE REVIEWS: “ANATOMY OF A FALL"<p><b>Wed--Kwei<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBRiQEPl9hod8EjiMyRWYNL2XalfEmlt6SWv6hNJoaqdJnSwb3LuFGCje-jQuzBUCqDY2JiwEFltYYIRUV0mbn-LlrPAyQdOwNNG_FHl294gX0KXau6Z1ODn8KRotBNi-LvItQzsuq48iuFbQeBvHoQiYnTgxscZijspogODTIC4JPqOpHpIKbAZ_5-kO/s794/ANATOMY_.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="794" data-original-width="794" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBRiQEPl9hod8EjiMyRWYNL2XalfEmlt6SWv6hNJoaqdJnSwb3LuFGCje-jQuzBUCqDY2JiwEFltYYIRUV0mbn-LlrPAyQdOwNNG_FHl294gX0KXau6Z1ODn8KRotBNi-LvItQzsuq48iuFbQeBvHoQiYnTgxscZijspogODTIC4JPqOpHpIKbAZ_5-kO/w400-h400/ANATOMY_.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: 700; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Unanswered Mystery: Who killed Samuel Maleski? (Image Leonardo-AI)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </b></p><p><b><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Plot Overview</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;">"Anatomy of a Fall" plunges us into a chilling narrative where Sandra Voyter, portrayed by the spellbinding Sandra Huller, becomes the prime suspect in her husband Samuel Maleski's mysterious death. Samuel (Samuel Theis) meets a tragic end, falling from a window onto the snowy ground below. The question that haunts every frame of this gripping drama is whether it was an accident or cold-blooded murder. The couple's half-blind son is ensnared in a moral quandary, torn between the truths he holds and the secrets he knows.</span><span style="font-family: "var(--ricos-font-family,unset)", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;"><br /><b>Cast Highlights</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;">Sandra Hüller as Sandra Voyter delivers a mesmerizing, nuanced, and compelling performance that effectively draws the audience into the labyrinth of her character's psyche almost all the way. One suspects there’s much we don’t know.</span><span style="font-family: "var(--ricos-font-family,unset)", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;"><b>Behind the Scenes</b></span><span style="font-family: "var(--ricos-font-family,unset)", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;">Juliet Triet is the director and co-writer of this film alongside her collaborator Arthur Harari. Triet was fascinated with the 2016 Netflix documentary about Amanda Knox, which inspired this film. "Anatomy of a Fall” clinched the prestigious 2023 Palme d’Or award. NEON is the American independent production and distributing company behind the film.</span><span style="font-family: "var(--ricos-font-family,unset)", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "var(--ricos-font-family,unset)", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;"><b>Commentary</b></span><span style="font-family: "var(--ricos-font-family,unset)", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;">European and Scandinavian filmmakers craft deeply authentic stories with exceptionally well-written dialogue, and "Anatomy of a Fall" follows that tradition. While it might be tempting to call the film a whodunit, it transcends the genre to explore the deep-seated secrets and inner turmoil of Sandra Voyter. The film is rife with tension and an unsettling sense of ambiguity that challenges the viewer's perceptions and allegiances. The ambiguous ending further accentuates the film's departure from conventional narratives, inviting the audience to ponder the complexities of truth and deception. <i>Was </i>it a murder? And, beyond the usual, what’s the added significance of the dog, Snoop? The film may simmer with a slow burn that burns out before ever igniting to its full potential, but it leaves an indelible mark on the viewer.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "var(--ricos-font-family,unset)", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;"><b>Wrap-up and Rating</b></span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA2jbrveNUfbQq0_XoJH0m567xvwvG187mL7R4lotXDUCiWro83gcr_meHRZJW0rdrJB9K82ndsYY8v8M0aODj_U2yFSUGBrzuXJ9HUocyk4ZWfKZA5OLpz5dzWtyjWPEP5H_g2TbS7kMaO5jCGjI6BN-vuuK-Eb8RrF1ozkdZf6Soz7u9IakfiSdXNR67/s1716/4.5%20STARS%20(1).png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1716" data-original-width="1716" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA2jbrveNUfbQq0_XoJH0m567xvwvG187mL7R4lotXDUCiWro83gcr_meHRZJW0rdrJB9K82ndsYY8v8M0aODj_U2yFSUGBrzuXJ9HUocyk4ZWfKZA5OLpz5dzWtyjWPEP5H_g2TbS7kMaO5jCGjI6BN-vuuK-Eb8RrF1ozkdZf6Soz7u9IakfiSdXNR67/w178-h178/4.5%20STARS%20(1).png" width="178" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;">"Anatomy of a Fall" earns a well-deserved 4.5 stars, with its exceptional acting, skillful directing, and superb screenplay. While the storyline flirts with the possibility of a traditional whodunit, it instead chooses a path less trodden, focusing on its protagonist's intricate character arcs and psychological depth. The ambiguous ending may leave some viewers dissatisfied, but it shouldn’t be a deal-breaker in the context of the entire achievement.</span><span style="font-family: "var(--ricos-font-family,unset)", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: "var(--ricos-font-family,unset)", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; padding: 0in;"><a href="https://www.kweiquartey.com/blog/hashtags/UnsolvedMystery" target="__blank"><span style="color: blue;">#UnsolvedMystery</span></a> <a href="https://www.kweiquartey.com/blog/hashtags/WhoKilledSamuel" target="__blank"><span style="color: blue;">#WhoKilledSamuel</span></a> <a href="https://www.kweiquartey.com/blog/hashtags/AnatomyOfAFall" target="__blank"><span style="color: blue;">#AnatomyOfAFall</span></a> <a href="https://www.kweiquartey.com/blog/hashtags/ThrillerMovie" target="__blank"><span style="color: blue;">#ThrillerMovie</span></a> <a href="https://www.kweiquartey.com/blog/hashtags/MysteryFilm" target="__blank"><span style="color: blue;">#MysteryFilm</span></a> <a href="https://www.kweiquartey.com/blog/hashtags/CrimeScene" target="__blank"><span style="color: blue;">#CrimeScene</span></a><a href="https://www.kweiquartey.com/blog/hashtags/SnowySuspense" target="__blank"><span style="color: blue;">#SnowySuspense</span></a> <a href="https://www.kweiquartey.com/blog/hashtags/CinematicMystery" target="__blank"><span style="color: blue;">#CinematicMystery</span></a> <a href="https://www.kweiquartey.com/blog/hashtags/FilmNoir" target="__blank"><span style="color: blue;">#FilmNoir</span></a> <a href="https://www.kweiquartey.com/blog/hashtags/MurderMystery" target="__blank"><span style="color: blue;">#MurderMystery</span></a></span><span style="font-family: "var(--ricos-font-family,unset)", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Kwei Quarteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469765268067837660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-26242506697098205192024-03-04T00:00:00.001-05:002024-03-04T00:00:00.145-05:00The Man-Eating Lions of Tsavo<p><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Annamaria on Monday</b></span> </span></p><p><span style="color: #38761d;"><i>It's 5 PM in Florence. I just returned from three weeks in Kenya and Tanzania, and thanks to my share of the world-wide pandemic of air travel snafus, I have just three days to organize things for my return to NYC on Tuesday. There are a LOT of details to be seen to. So today, I offer you a story that I told here then years ago, and one that I recounted to friends when I was in Nairobi these past weeks. </i></span></p><div id="main-wrapper" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; float: left; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; overflow-wrap: break-word; overflow: hidden; width: 410px;"><div class="main section" id="main"><div class="widget Blog" data-version="1" id="Blog1" style="border-bottom: 0px dotted rgb(204, 204, 204); margin: 0px 0px 1.5em; padding: 0px 0px 1.5em;"><div class="blog-posts hfeed"><div class="date-outer"><div class="date-posts"><div class="post-outer"><div class="post hentry" style="border-bottom: 1px dotted rgb(204, 204, 204); margin: 0.5em 0px 1.5em; padding-bottom: 1.5em;"><div class="post-header-line-1"></div><div class="post-body entry-content" style="line-height: 1.6em; margin: 0px 0px 0.75em;">This is about a pair of serial killers in a story written by a guy named Patterson.<br /><br />No. Not that Patterson. This Patterson is Lt. Col. John Henry Patterson, who was commissioned, in 1898, to build a railroad bridge over the Tsavo river in the Protectorate of British East Africa, now Kenya. This project was part of the building of the Lunatic Line, the subject of a couple of my previous posts.<br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MVvOpi-TQ7aY4z_RaPm77zFlpvtaRWQqytirwCBdz5zk-B9Z8D_YwRBvTF3tpS8RgirFFoKMnY5WZbnhuudtI1d0v7sQr7kzjEapjw271eTrn-1f1gRjRMp24_qzUA4FMOElZX2BNzs/s1600/John-Henry-Patterson.jpg" style="color: #5588aa; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MVvOpi-TQ7aY4z_RaPm77zFlpvtaRWQqytirwCBdz5zk-B9Z8D_YwRBvTF3tpS8RgirFFoKMnY5WZbnhuudtI1d0v7sQr7kzjEapjw271eTrn-1f1gRjRMp24_qzUA4FMOElZX2BNzs/s1600/John-Henry-Patterson.jpg" style="border: 1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204); padding: 4px;" width="196" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Patterson was not an engineer. He had joined the British Army at the age of seventeen, having only whatever education was available in County Westmeath, Ireland for a lad like him—the son of a Protestant father and a Roman Catholic mother. That heritage may account for the sang-froid and fearless determination he exhibited in the trackless African wilderness of the time.<o:p></o:p><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6vDt636HRndh6ggNF9UnL-gyWmELua9sI2mb9grDwBS8gy7LF3OA-iTDSTkpszUUWMX8Obo9R5_H5LSNb_wC34AV6jQGV81rCvoYH2t7DcwPFA6AiVr_W9KwXPRbIJepXJriqTSBHa1g/s1600/lunatic_express_05.JPG" style="color: #5588aa; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6vDt636HRndh6ggNF9UnL-gyWmELua9sI2mb9grDwBS8gy7LF3OA-iTDSTkpszUUWMX8Obo9R5_H5LSNb_wC34AV6jQGV81rCvoYH2t7DcwPFA6AiVr_W9KwXPRbIJepXJriqTSBHa1g/s1600/lunatic_express_05.JPG" style="border: 1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204); padding: 4px;" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Patterson’s work on the bridge had barely begun when a couple of the area’s maneless male lions began attacking his Indian workers, dragging them from their tents as they slept. Building thorn-bush enclosures and bonfires in the night did not stay the beasts. After a few deaths, the building crew began to think that the lions were a manifestation of evil spirits who put a curse on their work. Pretty soon the project came to standstill because workers decamped en masse. Without his large crew, Patterson himself became more exposed to the danger.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">To save his job and his own life, he had to find and kill the marauders—who in the end turned out to be a pair of rogue males with a taste for human flesh. Multiple theories have been posited to explain why the cats preferred human flesh—everything from a paucity of other game in the area to the fact that captured slaves often died nearby while being dragged to the coast, and their corpses made for easy meals.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Accompanied by a brave gun bearer and often by other shooting companions, Patterson went on the attack. It took him months to find and do away with the lions, who continued to kill in the meanwhile.<o:p></o:p><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglEksqw2NcOakxWp2EET3gmO14wjQwSHLfhxzoHLJIoaFNULdA2AOqm7UQBrNbCRAHCWnFvBO0m_4sXZXS4C-VKlIj3kZX_jEPjHKvKfpt2ZTZRZtD83YnJEzp25kcHdwL9U4ko7ylMHg/s1600/Colonel_Patterson_with_Tsavo-Lion.jpg" style="color: #5588aa; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglEksqw2NcOakxWp2EET3gmO14wjQwSHLfhxzoHLJIoaFNULdA2AOqm7UQBrNbCRAHCWnFvBO0m_4sXZXS4C-VKlIj3kZX_jEPjHKvKfpt2ZTZRZtD83YnJEzp25kcHdwL9U4ko7ylMHg/s1600/Colonel_Patterson_with_Tsavo-Lion.jpg" style="border: 1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204); padding: 4px;" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">He recounted one attack while he and two other men were asleep and thought themselves safe in a railway carriage. Patterson took the top bunk (an excellent choice), another British officer was on the bottom bunk, and an Italian hunter slept on the floor. The downstairs Brit could not stand the heat and opened a window. In the middle of the night, a lion entered through it, landing on the back of the Italian. In the melee of shouting, reaching for rifles, and trying to run out of the locked door, the man-eater managed to drag the man on the bottom bunk through the window and made away with him. Patterson buried what was left of his remains the following day. The Italian decided that, much as he loved hunting, he would be better off trying his luck in another locale. He left for Mombasa on the next train.<o:p></o:p><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSxGWz4I7TZppdv6nKNN-NgPNUYwRjCyItQZQ8BMf4J0l6x-3a4cCg7DLhipKYnLSkkUIkqMiY4CGjZmLU7TxKqs8Dp4D7rpqcUshnt9Q8crZQKxLudOx3mkIb63SsI8mkXslVbOMg5aY/s1600/Unknown-1.jpeg" style="color: #5588aa; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSxGWz4I7TZppdv6nKNN-NgPNUYwRjCyItQZQ8BMf4J0l6x-3a4cCg7DLhipKYnLSkkUIkqMiY4CGjZmLU7TxKqs8Dp4D7rpqcUshnt9Q8crZQKxLudOx3mkIb63SsI8mkXslVbOMg5aY/s1600/Unknown-1.jpeg" style="border: 1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204); padding: 4px;" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Eventually, Patterson killed both lions—huge males, nine feet from the tips of their noses to the ends of their tails. It took eight men to carry each one back to camp. In all, the monsters had killed twenty-eight railway workers.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">The bridge was completed two months after the second lion bit the dust.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Patterson had them made into rugs, which he kept in his home until 1924, when he sold them to the Field Museum in Chicago. Their skulls are still on display there, as is a diorama of what they looked like in life.<o:p></o:p><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSY_oCvHEyPaOnmR-quRbGDbYpKmBfnPWPdTaBxV1IWq4VTNihQsHjZJUWbas6RH8bSlJc0qNd1gWyEGbL_AfxhuVgmVgFwGe5hq0LosANsEYccXSn-lUkeVs0h_Rnn-KuyvnpN0M62s/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" style="color: #5588aa; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSY_oCvHEyPaOnmR-quRbGDbYpKmBfnPWPdTaBxV1IWq4VTNihQsHjZJUWbas6RH8bSlJc0qNd1gWyEGbL_AfxhuVgmVgFwGe5hq0LosANsEYccXSn-lUkeVs0h_Rnn-KuyvnpN0M62s/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" style="border: 1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204); padding: 4px;" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Patterson went on to write his account these and his other adventures durings the building of the railroad in his 1907 book, <i>The Man-Eaters of Tsavo. </i>His story (Hollywoodized) was made into two films: <i>Bwana Devi</i>l in 1953 with Robert Stack and Nigel Bruce and <i>The Ghost and the Darkness</i> in 1996 with Val Kilmer and Michael Douglas. I have not seen either one. I will watch the first one this evening, so by the time you read this, I will be able to tell you if it is worth watching. If you want to know about the Val Kilmer/Michael Douglas film, you have to take your chances on your own, as it is against my religion to watch a film with either one of them. Both in the same film will, I am sure, be more than I bear.<o:p></o:p><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="border: 1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204); margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji7XVrOpTo2WjhXUuBr1NA9xAqL-5pY7Ag6Kqu4rbs7wxUTo2m_nxSsUhE4Gcfrh3ybG1EtHlX6kWYt3-F_nQt4k1gZhoC5MM3dbMYC4LmD-NdR90xh2YI-HQQHIACzDOo0lq2HxswrcM/s1600/GnD+scene.jpg" style="color: #5588aa; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji7XVrOpTo2WjhXUuBr1NA9xAqL-5pY7Ag6Kqu4rbs7wxUTo2m_nxSsUhE4Gcfrh3ybG1EtHlX6kWYt3-F_nQt4k1gZhoC5MM3dbMYC4LmD-NdR90xh2YI-HQQHIACzDOo0lq2HxswrcM/s1600/GnD+scene.jpg" style="border: none; padding: 0px;" width="230" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10.4px;">As close as I will ever get to seeing a movie with Val Kilmer</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxkpf_rZllao0-QsLvFJ4_NSuIBAArcd8T8aqaMnrAjGSFhV1hXc_6_53QkAAn3kciEGdXzCpeACyUQMuyMBgLhYaO2RWc3PjOv3GdAThuZUNY6NAaL6uky3VYh9NpcrXwAbXnhxjM7Tc/s1600/0.jpg" style="color: #5588aa; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxkpf_rZllao0-QsLvFJ4_NSuIBAArcd8T8aqaMnrAjGSFhV1hXc_6_53QkAAn3kciEGdXzCpeACyUQMuyMBgLhYaO2RWc3PjOv3GdAThuZUNY6NAaL6uky3VYh9NpcrXwAbXnhxjM7Tc/s1600/0.jpg" style="border: 1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204); padding: 4px;" width="320" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Annamaria Alfierihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311596277267789834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-90550634936475001932024-03-02T00:00:00.007-05:002024-03-02T00:00:00.132-05:00Sixty Murders and I'm Still Here<p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoeDAm78FvH-SSRnb7AWjD3DcQLTbdQoOrUsOHWqYp7uZ-tpUxw7HMd2nLHIyfIXXS9lOLzZq0G3pQYz7jCyaTUHYo5YHVOvyZjfio34waI2EOTlujAnyq7ZZ-Lx6I0H4gC4FsNULPddqSJ4Greir1KF4KQrPy7CpW_5J6KLhptiOeFC5l0EE_8zwmqW8/s640/1%20IMG_6780.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="556" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoeDAm78FvH-SSRnb7AWjD3DcQLTbdQoOrUsOHWqYp7uZ-tpUxw7HMd2nLHIyfIXXS9lOLzZq0G3pQYz7jCyaTUHYo5YHVOvyZjfio34waI2EOTlujAnyq7ZZ-Lx6I0H4gC4FsNULPddqSJ4Greir1KF4KQrPy7CpW_5J6KLhptiOeFC5l0EE_8zwmqW8/w348-h400/1%20IMG_6780.jpg" width="348" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mystery Lovers Bookshop, Pittsburgh<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Saturday–Jeff</span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">It’s been a busy month with my new Kaldis book (#13) releasing at the
beginning of February, number fourteen due to my editor by the end of February,
and a challenge-laden cross-country book tour devouring most of February and
part of March.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsw_yW_33ey619f1z2YtLDLHqb7sqiql_4zphfe2J7ls4oOvA5_ejy5KEVEohWk5RTeAutaXlTzemyvvapz6EBVTOqZE2TV35Vt_p4Q1B0ZP5zYf1PyM9I9gFcIV9tKjYEpJMoesEq_RWUT6OJWN14IC2lNqcnwqY9l0xyRmP3kWp5jlt9eyyyjdrsK7c/s640/2%20NY%20IMG_6752.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="592" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsw_yW_33ey619f1z2YtLDLHqb7sqiql_4zphfe2J7ls4oOvA5_ejy5KEVEohWk5RTeAutaXlTzemyvvapz6EBVTOqZE2TV35Vt_p4Q1B0ZP5zYf1PyM9I9gFcIV9tKjYEpJMoesEq_RWUT6OJWN14IC2lNqcnwqY9l0xyRmP3kWp5jlt9eyyyjdrsK7c/s320/2%20NY%20IMG_6752.jpg" width="296" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mysterious Bookshop, NYC<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><br /> </span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">But as the signature Elaine Stritch song lyric goes, “I’m still here”
(Written by Stephen Sondheim for Follies). </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Xz1TUgdG6A"><span></span></a></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Xz1TUgdG6A"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3Xz1TUgdG6A" width="320" youtube-src-id="3Xz1TUgdG6A"></iframe></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Xz1TUgdG6A"><br />https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Xz1TUgdG6A</a></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><span> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">And with things having slowed down somewhat, I figured I’d write
something deep, meaningful, and artsy for MIE.<span>
</span>So, I went online looking to get my mind off murder and mayhem in the
Balkans.<span> </span>I figured to start my search with
the arts section of Greece’s paper of record, <i>Ekathimerini</i>.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">But as I’ve come to learn far too often, the fates had something very
different in mind for me. The very first headline I saw read, “<b>European
crime ring behind 60 killings is dismantled, police say.</b>”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">I cringed. It sounded as if elements implicit in the manuscript I’d just submitted
had made their way into that headline.<span>
</span>ARRGHH.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">I had no choice but to do precisely what I didn’t want to do. I read the
story.<span> </span>Thankfully, it’s not about my
villains. At least not directly. The last thing you want to do is end up on the
wrong side of Greece’s equivalent of Murder Incorporated.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Still, there are some ideas percolating now for Book #15, thanks to that
headline.<span> </span>In fact, I’d say it would be
hard for my blogmates or any mystery-thriller writer to read that Reuters’
story and not gain murderous inspiration for their own tales, no matter where
they chose to set them on this planet…or beyond.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">So, in the spirit of camaraderie and sharing, here’s the news story
behind that headline.<span> </span>May it give you
inspiration.<span> </span>Just remember to be on the
lookout for further developments.<span> </span>I’ve a
sense there’s a lot more to this story yet to be told.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"></span></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV62rqs1fLFDbZGH-OMF1ukwbqTl-d949U0QSlg_OXF0GIxr_crkhSp4k5PFp4Kuo2en0Yql5Jh_UdYFikL-sf0UISEG6qsIt0YayuhBHyS9Al-Z8_ehj17sNPjepsrwYqNUQHXd0fRpAE0Fte4XdQVBaOzA3Sm_99mnBavk-1uNHMS6exf_KxKWunTTo/s960/3%20police-tape-960x600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV62rqs1fLFDbZGH-OMF1ukwbqTl-d949U0QSlg_OXF0GIxr_crkhSp4k5PFp4Kuo2en0Yql5Jh_UdYFikL-sf0UISEG6qsIt0YayuhBHyS9Al-Z8_ehj17sNPjepsrwYqNUQHXd0fRpAE0Fte4XdQVBaOzA3Sm_99mnBavk-1uNHMS6exf_KxKWunTTo/s320/3%20police-tape-960x600.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br />International cooperation triggered by
a spate of gangland murders in Greece has helped to dismantle a crime ring
accused of more than 60 killings across Europe over the past decade, police
said on Friday.</i></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">More than 39 people, mainly from
Serbia and Montenegro but also from Albania and Romania, have been identified
on suspicion of participating in a criminal organization, according to court
documents, and about 17 are in prison in Serbia, Montenegro and Turkey.</span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">The “Kotor Clan,” set up in 2010 in
Montenegro and involved in drug trafficking around the world, split into two
rival groups, Kavac and Skaljari, in 2014 after a dispute over a failed drug
trafficking operation in Spain.</span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">“The war between the two groups led to
at least 60 murders throughout Europe,” said Athens police head Fotios
Douitsis.</span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Four members, from Serbia and
Montenegro, arrived in Greece in 2019 looking for a hideout. They were murdered
a year later by members of the rival group, police said.</span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">It was when Greece sought help from
Serbia and from Europol that the European law enforcement agency established
that gang members were using an app to send encrypted messages that would
automatically self-destruct</span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">.</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Europol and police in France, the
Netherlands and Belgium mounted an operation to get access to the app, and
found evidence there connected to the murders in Greece.</span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Douitsis praised the cooperation and
exchange of information among European police authorities, singling out Serbia
for its pivotal assistance. [Reuters]</span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> –Jeff</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"> </span></span>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">PS. And a BIG HAPPY BIRTHDAY to You Know Who.<span> </span>XOX, Dad</span>.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><style>@font-face
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<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Jeff’s Upcoming In Person Events</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span face=""Aptos",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Saturday,
March 9, 3:00 p.m. CT</span></b><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span face=""Aptos",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Murder By The Book</span></b><br />
Author Speaking and Signing<br />
Houston, TX</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"></span></p>
<p><style>@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Jeffrey Sigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00718317707555064653noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-90497160825748173222024-03-01T02:53:00.003-05:002024-03-01T02:53:43.862-05:00Blood Runs Deep<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Today's guest blog is from Douglas Sinclair, one of those general all round good eggs that exist in the crime fiction world. I think it's fair to say that his first book had a long and difficult birth, but the minute it was born, it rocketed to the top of the charts which is no more than it was due. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">He writes beautifully crafted police procedurals with a protagonist who has an interesting past, and a female sidekick who keeps him on track. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And while I'm here apologies for missing last weeks blog but, I was in the emergency room for 7 hours because my mother managed to fracture her calcanium/heel bone - and that's going to be a whole blog in itself!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh and while Doug is loveliness personified, his wife ( even more lovely) has a horse ( the most lovely of all). The horse might be mentioned a few times in the blog.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtb-U7bShomXl8BrFOFnFgNWPs-7D3jgUC_Y95GUPH8T6DGxStXlHp8duhZliIS4DxthMIwvB_HFj6Lw4S4UiDyYkgi_SEEJ_DcEyLmkQyBebHO7UFqwlMaX6Y08nnveM2eTX0NuTnXKYGYhnGOD0o22NuyVWhyphenhyphenvy2DEYbOH4i4PDLu5FvZovGRvwD4g3X/s522/81zBkuh0+6L._SY522_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="522" data-original-width="340" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtb-U7bShomXl8BrFOFnFgNWPs-7D3jgUC_Y95GUPH8T6DGxStXlHp8duhZliIS4DxthMIwvB_HFj6Lw4S4UiDyYkgi_SEEJ_DcEyLmkQyBebHO7UFqwlMaX6Y08nnveM2eTX0NuTnXKYGYhnGOD0o22NuyVWhyphenhyphenvy2DEYbOH4i4PDLu5FvZovGRvwD4g3X/s320/81zBkuh0+6L._SY522_.jpg" width="208" /></a></div> <div> The Book<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyupqGFSABCCkw450kenB6VznVMfEufFCmqlyxdpMpixtQKV8LyevTfVtAnyPZAYnHFBUSAPFltYohL60Y1lAiQOVrcRYKKiH1jHevwiWxswKGCrcNqWBGa7tOK0HmWB33zrzZr_6H2eXbY-laU7qeQ1G4Idfd_ZHKC7X9BDjM8SIRWDjtoBU2lg_E09hj/s2048/421894981_10160012720745893_8818739167412565625_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyupqGFSABCCkw450kenB6VznVMfEufFCmqlyxdpMpixtQKV8LyevTfVtAnyPZAYnHFBUSAPFltYohL60Y1lAiQOVrcRYKKiH1jHevwiWxswKGCrcNqWBGa7tOK0HmWB33zrzZr_6H2eXbY-laU7qeQ1G4Idfd_ZHKC7X9BDjM8SIRWDjtoBU2lg_E09hj/s320/421894981_10160012720745893_8818739167412565625_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The man</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb4zuUzEM-jZw6CoCOPp30QVCxLtWQoqpQxCCEJbzq0gzGJxaGotukm9_V04Hxgut0q1nGhobLoCBMq6p5aFbjoYrnbqWfIqUZRDT-uh2JKbPrU5UaiLaBZ3u5CEplRhj912TH5SYdhyDaXKX85aFFOIu87OQohiWQPdXY1NObp9JOKX1qvAgAHxRmciSH/s2048/428652789_10232105225524415_7144631559297845469_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1160" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb4zuUzEM-jZw6CoCOPp30QVCxLtWQoqpQxCCEJbzq0gzGJxaGotukm9_V04Hxgut0q1nGhobLoCBMq6p5aFbjoYrnbqWfIqUZRDT-uh2JKbPrU5UaiLaBZ3u5CEplRhj912TH5SYdhyDaXKX85aFFOIu87OQohiWQPdXY1NObp9JOKX1qvAgAHxRmciSH/s320/428652789_10232105225524415_7144631559297845469_n.jpg" width="181" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The horse ( and the sister in law)</div><br /><p><b style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">How does it feel to be a published author?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Good, but in a lovely, quiet, way I didn’t expect. I struggle <i>hugely</i> with Imposter Syndrome, but I’ve decided to trust the judgement of people who know what the hell they’re talking about. Fellow crime fiction friends and associates, my agent Kevin Pocklington of the North Literary Agency, and Storm Publishing signing me to a three-book debut deal – they must know something about good writing. Doesn’t completely silence the wee sod, the Poison Parrot, but it does go some way to shutting it’s nasty little beak.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzFo93Oa7CafoKc6iMdKgkRHfek0rHaGGhnY9-ercuZQxvVMhNile6uMHzMpv81Y8gFYE5GVrsU5SlVpu-2v84el7DI14jo8SCeXyjC0egNg-nuCwCn_v2yginL3t-an6Km36331O-MB16J4VH9mEwL83BfpNON_QkSuhphcyQ5zTiMImv7q6cmk7ZdtxL/s1080/417405655_3691786191098926_9099695520973245037_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="1080" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzFo93Oa7CafoKc6iMdKgkRHfek0rHaGGhnY9-ercuZQxvVMhNile6uMHzMpv81Y8gFYE5GVrsU5SlVpu-2v84el7DI14jo8SCeXyjC0egNg-nuCwCn_v2yginL3t-an6Km36331O-MB16J4VH9mEwL83BfpNON_QkSuhphcyQ5zTiMImv7q6cmk7ZdtxL/s320/417405655_3691786191098926_9099695520973245037_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">How did your launch go?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Well, I think. Good turnout, lots of laughs, lots of over-sharing on my part. No less than Gordon Brown hosted it for me and he did a superb job – kept me on track the best he could, stopped me rambling too much, mocked me, the usual. Audience was mostly friends and family, but no-one will know that from the photos, which just look like a great turnout. You can’t see that I locked the doors to stop people escaping.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs1RAcfoPC7VCsZgtAUDbbQnwR-QWYRsIN1XYS-rm-ORZCN0cqaGZjRhEc5yEurVaA0IJ4O0SCCkhOlr8nbPQHTehpVYMisxvZ6-IwzoFuhZg4cOKYFnyrTMPurjzCQCobCNYFOAlTVUhhrAfjcABzr7Tvj7FuZvwYl6YlYLBc9qQumArBkwkcV7tk7gM1/s2048/417436534_3692583327685879_54102971187799844_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1537" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs1RAcfoPC7VCsZgtAUDbbQnwR-QWYRsIN1XYS-rm-ORZCN0cqaGZjRhEc5yEurVaA0IJ4O0SCCkhOlr8nbPQHTehpVYMisxvZ6-IwzoFuhZg4cOKYFnyrTMPurjzCQCobCNYFOAlTVUhhrAfjcABzr7Tvj7FuZvwYl6YlYLBc9qQumArBkwkcV7tk7gM1/s320/417436534_3692583327685879_54102971187799844_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"> Two people who shouldn't be allowed out on their own</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Was the horse invited?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The horse was invited but some gobby bar staff started cracking “jokes” about “long faces” and how he had “neigh chance of getting served” and she left in a huff.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjake-LAecNMrq2f4mhM1VP8IbMrBuxS9wRA_nh_Fzq9Tl5utuy390uVz4QLuMw98aSLZ1m8FL481quHFSabqRveXIrpMuorVatiqiWgYn3E0YzW8IJ3smjt2KJRxEF0wLLKwzjkRI4wK0LUiBENDh5X8t-hQI5jZ9jrR7zRLiP8j2gbqGAWe3x5PrpuFUs/s960/398569755_10231550030844895_45598210860859215_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjake-LAecNMrq2f4mhM1VP8IbMrBuxS9wRA_nh_Fzq9Tl5utuy390uVz4QLuMw98aSLZ1m8FL481quHFSabqRveXIrpMuorVatiqiWgYn3E0YzW8IJ3smjt2KJRxEF0wLLKwzjkRI4wK0LUiBENDh5X8t-hQI5jZ9jrR7zRLiP8j2gbqGAWe3x5PrpuFUs/s320/398569755_10231550030844895_45598210860859215_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">How many dogs do you have?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Only one just now, plus a cat. <b><i>I call them Wee Shite and Big Shite.</i></b> Until recently we had two of each, but two of them left us, which broke us into millions of pieces (those who know, know).</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzdSUQuLiNgaRFrjcO19J7sGnx4pdjWuGIx69nXza08kQGDJ3h1RVFwNO4SZW4WAzlxPGEm66A9gyayVsBuA7NLBTE0pYEXmQ5KMXQ1HcekMWYAKpJabin8v9mNrxE6_KdRpIfFpRgumTw_70LPldc47bDNcH74mzJuqjMDhu63FUZNddEvlZBHP32Fys/s2048/400378220_10231550212529437_3322054628145268259_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzdSUQuLiNgaRFrjcO19J7sGnx4pdjWuGIx69nXza08kQGDJ3h1RVFwNO4SZW4WAzlxPGEm66A9gyayVsBuA7NLBTE0pYEXmQ5KMXQ1HcekMWYAKpJabin8v9mNrxE6_KdRpIfFpRgumTw_70LPldc47bDNcH74mzJuqjMDhu63FUZNddEvlZBHP32Fys/s320/400378220_10231550212529437_3322054628145268259_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Do you kayak?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Yes, but not often enough. Stretching out on my ‘Yak (it’s a SoT ‘Yak, look it up) and bobbing on a loch is my favouritest form of relaxation. I always plan to write while I’m on the water but it never happens, too busy eating Tunnocks Caramel Wafers and wishing my heart could always feel as soothed and contented as it does at those moments.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Does the silence of that help you plot?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I try to, but my mind usually wanders. I mostly review story progress, and sometimes get new insights, but it’s usually just fine-tuning.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Is this the first book you have written?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">No. I wrote an 80k word novel which will never see the light of day, but at least served to demonstrate I had a scrap of talent for writing. I wrote 70k words of another book. The opening scene got rave reviews at Noir at the Bar, but it succumbed to the Poison Parrot and went nowhere. I started Blood Runs Deep far too many years ago but it at least felt likely to reach completion. After handing BRD to my publisher, Storm (probably the single terrifyingest thing I ever did), I looked again at unfinished book one and realised 40k of the 70k were pants and had to go. I finished that book in three months (the magic of a contractual deadline), and it needed only light structural and line editing. It’ll be published on 2<sup>nd</sup> May, and I’m terrified of what people think of a book I didn’t spend years polishing and tweaking.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">You can be honest with us writers, how many rewrites/edits did it take?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I’ve been told my natural writing voice that “resonates” with people quite naturally. Book two took only one draft plus a high-level edit of my own, then Storm’s structural, line, and copy edits, and was considered “good”.</span></i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Tell us a bit about your main character- a troubled soul?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">There’s a lot of me in Malkie, but he’s definitely *not* me. He knows self-doubt, and irrational self-loathing, and has felt like a square peg surrounded by round holes his whole life. He struggles with injustice – from school bullying, through brutalisation of ordinary people by a cold and venal society that causes the awful crimes committed against life’s most vulnerable, all the way up to atrocities inflicted on innocents across the world for the most venal of reasons. He’s learned to articulate how his mind thinks so unlike those around him, but he can bever “get it” and is repeatedly infuriated by anyone being treated unfairly through no fault of their own.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">He’s overweight, scruffy, inappropriate, and has no brain/mouth filter – that much of him very much *is* me.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Why are Glaswegian so lovely?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Because people from Edinburgh are too terrified to tell them they’re not.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPJIQfSpteSmS4N2oZeYAkYodq5MD4qMbH5A00VesqHHC4YpontRfV5SY1SO4ht-3E9sHL5_oSqszkKHYbIjUxomXUhfyLVpPPBNlDQM_ewBmmcO-kLEcgcsWDpbqnIhWIzESvdI7Ls-D8s4AmVe9jAF881BdwIXWUZVoBuPlB21nsiwbhg12dC0hTnUcO/s2048/400384244_10231550209009349_6963676599802630250_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1150" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPJIQfSpteSmS4N2oZeYAkYodq5MD4qMbH5A00VesqHHC4YpontRfV5SY1SO4ht-3E9sHL5_oSqszkKHYbIjUxomXUhfyLVpPPBNlDQM_ewBmmcO-kLEcgcsWDpbqnIhWIzESvdI7Ls-D8s4AmVe9jAF881BdwIXWUZVoBuPlB21nsiwbhg12dC0hTnUcO/s320/400384244_10231550209009349_6963676599802630250_n.jpg" width="180" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Do you think book two will be easier?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Book two, I was still buzzing from getting signed at all, after 50+ years of believing fundamentally it would never happen. Book three is like pulling teeth, which is topical because I’m currently suffering from a horrible wisdom tooth extraction. Sleeping Dogs, I chewed over and otherwise avoiding writing for years. Blood Runs Deep, I also spent years procrastinating and doing anything to avoid biting the bull by the horns and sending it “out there”. Book three, I have a contractual deadline and the Poison Parrot is in overdrive, constantly telling me there’s no way a complete flake like me can write a decent book in only a few months. Time will tell; it’s due out 4<sup>th</sup> September.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Do you know the end before you start?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I know the beginning, the thingy that turns everything on it’s head half way through and I have some idea of the ending although not who gets what and how. Mostly, I have a cast of character in my head who (whom?) I get to know during the writing, and I have some idea of what I want to happen at a very high level. Nothing as formal as a Premise or a Theme, but an idea of what it is about the story and the characters and the outcome that *matters* so much to me.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Douglas Skelton and I have a thing about ending a book with a avalanche started by monkeys- do you have a fantasy ending?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I do. Next question.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">What's next for you?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I’ll continue writing about Malkie and Steph because I love them both like troublesome family members who always mean well but one keeps getting the other into trouble. Whether that’s via a second contract with Storm (my ideal scenario) or with another publisher or possibly even self-published – that depends on sales and reviews of books one and two.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwZ8vgC6i_wpr9OZljCvCPkobYKoDJG59YnaJ-H8LLOO2aOAezcffA5WXo9gk3Xr9mxZQmcR3fU-ysqyMXqYA7VFsLkxHKg8DL5EsUKJyaUZqhHqIv5IDHiOUqCN9F7kZsn3kUhmXGswzdlPkjU331BxTxtjJAMZ-0S8fPQkdvuF5aPBLwrr20OU2Hh-w/s2048/417491868_3703972293213649_3493024223314975304_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1673" data-original-width="2048" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwZ8vgC6i_wpr9OZljCvCPkobYKoDJG59YnaJ-H8LLOO2aOAezcffA5WXo9gk3Xr9mxZQmcR3fU-ysqyMXqYA7VFsLkxHKg8DL5EsUKJyaUZqhHqIv5IDHiOUqCN9F7kZsn3kUhmXGswzdlPkjU331BxTxtjJAMZ-0S8fPQkdvuF5aPBLwrr20OU2Hh-w/s320/417491868_3703972293213649_3493024223314975304_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"> Gordon Brown and Doug</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Does it involve the lovely horse?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I know of no “<i>lovely</i>” horse, only the huge, smelly, temperamental, equine money-pit that seems to have pushed me down a place in my wife’s affections (Sprocket the dog, Moody the cat, Indie the money-pit, me)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb4zuUzEM-jZw6CoCOPp30QVCxLtWQoqpQxCCEJbzq0gzGJxaGotukm9_V04Hxgut0q1nGhobLoCBMq6p5aFbjoYrnbqWfIqUZRDT-uh2JKbPrU5UaiLaBZ3u5CEplRhj912TH5SYdhyDaXKX85aFFOIu87OQohiWQPdXY1NObp9JOKX1qvAgAHxRmciSH/s2048/428652789_10232105225524415_7144631559297845469_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1160" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb4zuUzEM-jZw6CoCOPp30QVCxLtWQoqpQxCCEJbzq0gzGJxaGotukm9_V04Hxgut0q1nGhobLoCBMq6p5aFbjoYrnbqWfIqUZRDT-uh2JKbPrU5UaiLaBZ3u5CEplRhj912TH5SYdhyDaXKX85aFFOIu87OQohiWQPdXY1NObp9JOKX1qvAgAHxRmciSH/s320/428652789_10232105225524415_7144631559297845469_n.jpg" width="181" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"> nd another photo of the lovely horse.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"> You can never have enough!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;">Caro</p></div>Caro Ramsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08499318515241879831noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-1716182504879503952024-02-28T23:00:00.007-05:002024-03-01T01:06:39.389-05:00The rise of evangelical churches in Africa - Femi Kayode guest post<p> <a href="http://www.michaelstanleybooks.com" target="_blank">Michael – Alternate Thursdays</a></p>
<p class="Body"><span lang="EN-US">Femi Kayode – guest post<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Body"><i><span lang="EN-US"></span></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyNbbEl-Jz-ukU-2xeRar5k7w40Hu8VC1FROjYOcmkbgQp8S0yaVRELtLUP1l2quUgeJL2D8wwWA59oQKZ7TZjBdRBw2enmc64MBRzA5GLUEUyM1Y7ljs0xoRFApWXGfwZA2d8-QR49eZ-dRJzu5GjjMfYTpqnnXnW74AmVy5pfyIHXmrlhUyixBOiKIFO/s1199/Church%20full%20to%20bursting.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="674" data-original-width="1199" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyNbbEl-Jz-ukU-2xeRar5k7w40Hu8VC1FROjYOcmkbgQp8S0yaVRELtLUP1l2quUgeJL2D8wwWA59oQKZ7TZjBdRBw2enmc64MBRzA5GLUEUyM1Y7ljs0xoRFApWXGfwZA2d8-QR49eZ-dRJzu5GjjMfYTpqnnXnW74AmVy5pfyIHXmrlhUyixBOiKIFO/w400-h225/Church%20full%20to%20bursting.jpeg" width="400" /></a></i></div><i><br />I’ve been intrigued for some time by the size and power of the evangelical churches in various parts of Africa. Judging by
several thrillers that focus around them, they behave like massive business
conglomerates, generating huge amounts of money that don’t always end up at
their intended destinations. One of these institutions played a central role in
Leye Adenle’s latest Nigerian Amaka thriller, </i><span lang="EN-US">Unfinished
Business<i>. Another, in Ghana this time, was important in one of Kwei
Quartey’s Darko Dawson mysteries, </i>Death by His Grace<i>.<o:p></o:p></i></span><p></p>
<p class="Body"><i><span lang="EN-US">So when I started reading Femi Kayode’s new
novel, </span></i><span lang="EN-US">Gaslight<i>, I wasn’t too surprised to find
Grace Church, another Nigerian megachurch, at the heart of
psychologist-detective Philip Taiwo’s new case. The leader of the
church, known simply as Bishop, is arrested for the murder of his wife who has
disappeared, and the church elders ask Philip to investigate. Philip is
ambivalent, but eventually is persuaded. His skills and logical reasoning soon
allow him to deduce that the police have misunderstood the situation and he
obtains Bishop’s release. But that’s not the end of the case; in fact, it’s the
beginning. The story addresses big themes with rich and believable characters
including Philip’s own family. Femi was nervous of the “Second Novel Syndrome”
but he’s come up with another winner bringing him accolades from media
reviewers as well as writers like S.A. Cosby and Lee Child.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="Body"><i><span lang="EN-US">Giving way to my curiosity about the West
African evangelical megachurches, I asked Femi about it. His thoughts give
insight far beyond the west African environment, so I asked him if we could
restructure it as a blog for Murder Is Everywhere. He agreed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> This was my question:</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="Body"><i><span lang="EN-US">“The Evangelical churches of Nigeria with
their charismatic preachers seem to be hugely powerful and important there.
They also seem to generate a lot of money. Why are they so successful in
Nigeria in particular?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="Body"><span lang="EN-US"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-xCvQtFfUGADhWKXs5CVr13nBkZpsvB9BKOAI9vbdI_ymoZHOR2SMFvru-szLP3Oysfz4xKRhDTnQYXXl3iAlNuTARCupxdTrJD25xIVWfMgfqSyC5fq9LsUpXCc2nZBC1Fw8An6J7G_rQJXI9E9LWwWVp8z9w__hGfnf1V_efjZzJ6qUTpynUNrLEFeZ/s4948/Femi%20Kayode.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3534" data-original-width="4948" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-xCvQtFfUGADhWKXs5CVr13nBkZpsvB9BKOAI9vbdI_ymoZHOR2SMFvru-szLP3Oysfz4xKRhDTnQYXXl3iAlNuTARCupxdTrJD25xIVWfMgfqSyC5fq9LsUpXCc2nZBC1Fw8An6J7G_rQJXI9E9LWwWVp8z9w__hGfnf1V_efjZzJ6qUTpynUNrLEFeZ/s320/Femi%20Kayode.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Femi Kayode</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span lang="EN-US"><br />I am smiling at the word ‘successful’, because
that speaks to this idea that evangelical churches are an enterprise of some
sort. And one can be forgiven for thinking that after reading <i>Gaslight</i>
or being exposed to some of the stories about these churches in popular media.
But to my mind, that would be reductionist thinking. Evangelical churches are a
bona fide group within organized Christian faith. I am not sure their rise (or
success, as you call it) is any different from that of the more established
groups like Lutherans, Baptists or Protestants or even the charismatic sect
within the Catholic Church. Every group, sub-group or sect, came into existence
in response to the times – the politics, the socio-economic circumstance of the
day, the health index of that era and even the conflict within the established
church, almost always led to the re-creation of an ideology that people
believed would be the divine solution to the challenge of the day. <o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="Body"><span lang="EN-US">With that said, I think what you call ‘success’
could be referred to as the ‘rise’ of evangelical churches. And this rise was
driven my several factors, especially between early late seventies to
mid-nineties. It was post-civil war Nigeria; the oil boom had burst and the
country was going through several coup d’états. In my research, there was a
definite correlation between the rise of evangelical churches and the
increasing collapse of the Nigerian economy. The more unstable the political
situation was, the greater the collapse of institutions and the more frayed the
socioeconomic fabric of the country, the more people needed to find some kind
of hope. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Body"><span lang="EN-US">Now, one can ask why didn’t they find it in the
established religious institutions. I believe that a number of people saw these
established institutions a part of the old, the tested and see-where-it-got-us
institutions. So, the hope people sought was intertwined with a desire for the
new, the novel. And the evangelical churches took advantage of this need. They
would quote bible passages implying that the old ways of worshipping God are
antiquated and not working. People believed it because the proof that it was
not working was all around them. Broken health systems, spiraling quality of
education, insecurity, the unstoppable fall of the Nigerian currency, the list
went on. And again, to be fair, it was reminiscent of every era that gave rise
to a new religion or sect within an existing religion. And it was not happening
in Christianity alone. We saw a rise in charismatic movements within the
Islamic religion too. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Body"><span lang="EN-US"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqK9Fes-W5oQ00tIJP-PguJUEMg8-bGWhsEogQT6VKarSsvPsjWGZ5GWGzRks-7Vx8bHgV6Sns2Jxd3h80DeNV65X28PLGGquYyZdq_jQeTjxtxFol-1LcfJYUwYZZ3MWxcDNPDs7Rtx6W-VRsATwUcq_1tcqMvTixIloMoYhaOHMVcTWkzyNIiZ_SWsEJ/s976/Worshippers.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="976" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqK9Fes-W5oQ00tIJP-PguJUEMg8-bGWhsEogQT6VKarSsvPsjWGZ5GWGzRks-7Vx8bHgV6Sns2Jxd3h80DeNV65X28PLGGquYyZdq_jQeTjxtxFol-1LcfJYUwYZZ3MWxcDNPDs7Rtx6W-VRsATwUcq_1tcqMvTixIloMoYhaOHMVcTWkzyNIiZ_SWsEJ/s320/Worshippers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />To my mind, I think the evangelical emphasis on
spiritual warfare resonates deeply with the traditional African worldview,
where there has always been a greater emphasis on the influence of spiritual
forces on our physical realities. When you add this to the evangelical
churches’ ability to quickly adapt to the cultural nuances of the society
through the incorporation of local music, dances, language and more, you will
understand why a large portion of people felt a greater sense of ownership over
their religious practice as against the perpetuation of existing dogma of the
more established churches which were inherited from the colonial era. <o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="Body"><span lang="EN-US">Another contributing factor was the increasing
exposure of the country to the United States. This was at an all-time high
between the Second and Third republic, especially when the country aligned its
system of government to what they thought was the American system. There was a
huge influx of evangelical churches coming in from the States, and migration
between the two countries was quite high – perhaps in response to the negative
role of Britain and some European countries in the civil war coupled with a
kind of collective rebellion against our colonial past. Whatever the reason
was, the image of the fiery preacher who conducted miracles and brought Jesus
closer to the people (against all odds) was a much-needed antidote to the
disaffection people felt towards the political class. This aspect of the
phenomenon cannot be divorced from their adept use of electronic media (another
American trait). The innovative use of various media platforms (a practice that
was shunned by traditional, established churches until recently), including the
use of the internet and social media, has helped evangelical churches reach
wider audiences across the world. That influence and spread validated a lot of
these churches and confirmed to the congregants that indeed this was a wave
ordained by God. And the rise continued.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Body"><span lang="EN-US">The fact is, there is no one contributory factor
to this global rise — make no mistake, it is not restricted to the African
continent — I think the common denominator across cultures is huge disparities
between the rich and the poor. Low socio-economic development, lack of access
to infrastructure and high inequities are what make people feel hopeless and
helpless. When despair sets in, people seek succour where they can. Some in
drink (ever wondered why the sale of alcohol soars during economic distress?),
some in work/business (hoping for promotion as a signal of progress?), and most
in religion. We also tend to look for heroes in humans just like us, perhaps
because we are too afraid to ask that existential question: if there is a God,
why is everything so dark? We hold on to these religious leaders, for dear
life. Literally. We can see them, touch them. They are tangible and even when
their version of how the world or God works seems fantastical, we suspend
disbelief. We have to, because our daily reality is too harsh, too grim. We
need the fantasy world these pastors, movie stars, influencers, reality TV
actors and more, give us. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Body"><span lang="EN-US">As for the money Evangelical Churches make,
suffice to say like every organised group/corporation that sells a product,
they are expected to make money. Can anyone fathom the amount of money the
Catholic Church has and continues to make? Or the Church of England? Here’s the
thing; the money the evangelical churches make is only an issue because of the
lack of accountability. When one person amasses millions in the name of
religion and escapes the scrutiny applied to other forms of enterprise, then we
have a problem. And as the saying goes, absolute power corrupts absolutely. The
corruption that engulfs most of these new age churches is a reflection of this
human truth. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="Body"><span lang="EN-US"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQtdjElWvuvKD6AaFQt0589ZjMDFjTBiW-A_S7NrNC-5vmY7tNsUXT-xWzg054d6926TS38otd4SBQLuzAy-xOLdYxO7z9UK6x6I6zmamTh1K2E66noqQpuAu4oLLnd-AtoKqVxP6V9oJkwxtXygKtxc_lk3c5CTI7hLdNR6fv6X8I1LSSEyJl6xr2HfT/s874/Gaslight%20cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="874" data-original-width="568" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQtdjElWvuvKD6AaFQt0589ZjMDFjTBiW-A_S7NrNC-5vmY7tNsUXT-xWzg054d6926TS38otd4SBQLuzAy-xOLdYxO7z9UK6x6I6zmamTh1K2E66noqQpuAu4oLLnd-AtoKqVxP6V9oJkwxtXygKtxc_lk3c5CTI7hLdNR6fv6X8I1LSSEyJl6xr2HfT/s320/Gaslight%20cover.jpg" width="208" /></a></div><br />It is this corruption that I try to explore in
<i>Gaslight</i>. First, as a cautionary tale for those of us who elevate one person to
God-like levels and secondly, to challenge this idea that corruption is limited
to such religious spaces. It exists everywhere. In all institutions and spheres
of life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the moral of the novel is
simple. When reason or common sense has been suspended as a matter of survival,
expect all hell to break loose. <o:p></o:p><p></p>Michael Sears (of Michael Stanley)http://www.blogger.com/profile/09886295534214542834noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-15469623423310236802024-02-27T00:00:00.307-05:002024-02-27T00:00:00.137-05:00Foods For Thought<p> <a href="https://www.ovidiayu.com/" target="_blank">Ovidia</a>--every other Tuesday</p><p>It's been a tough couple of weeks here. The meniscus in my left knee got torn in a fall and some very effective antibiotics wiped out my gut bacteria meaning lots of loo visits... which the knee wasn't very happy about.</p><p>But all's returning to normal now and I'm looking forward to lunch with friends visiting Singapore next week. Which leads to today's question: Should I introduce these nice people (likely jet lagged and stressed from traveling halfway across the world) to the most exciting foods I know... or should we go for something simple and comforting that they're more likely to enjoy--even if it doesn't leave as striking a first impression?</p><p>Because when I was under the weather, I found I couldn't read anything challenging. You'd think having a bad knee or iffy gut has nothing to do with reading challenging books, but I'll tell you it does! There are some books in my past--good books--but books I can barely think about, let alone pick up right now...</p><p>Like one that reminds of me a fish head curry-- a great delicacy and connoisseurs love the eyeballs and the fish lips especially. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBdoFbv16ywLZy_qdqFv-o_TH-et3SOUxyYNBRoHULb_hOJlRAM2APXh39U9gudF2yt5O2D42ANW52UIpj_PPWycoPVCEKCQQX9i_6bgaQ7S58kflfeUL7cXjEjraxLUDQlbiDHBR7g62Yr4tGUMo1WGqFccFbvNh6rJkpKDC-fdQawyn0ZRw2K5IkKOD4/s941/fishhead.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="913" data-original-width="941" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBdoFbv16ywLZy_qdqFv-o_TH-et3SOUxyYNBRoHULb_hOJlRAM2APXh39U9gudF2yt5O2D42ANW52UIpj_PPWycoPVCEKCQQX9i_6bgaQ7S58kflfeUL7cXjEjraxLUDQlbiDHBR7g62Yr4tGUMo1WGqFccFbvNh6rJkpKDC-fdQawyn0ZRw2K5IkKOD4/s320/fishhead.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I love it too--you have to taste that gravy before you judge it--and the okra and eggplant in there are delicious. </p><p>But encountering it for the first time reminds me of reading <u>I'm Thinking Of Ending Things </u>by Iain Reid for the first time. It's especially unnerving because all the parts are familiar, from the old school to the old parents to the old security guard...</p><p>Just as you're familiar with fish of course, and with tomatoes and curry with a little spice... and if you eat fish fillets why not fish heads... but when it's all coming at you at once and your host does you the honour of dolloping the eyeball on your plate of rice it can be a bit much.</p><p>Fish head curry is delicious, I promise you. Just like it's a powerful book, but maybe not the best choice if you're not feeling well. Just remember it's all fish (spoiler: kind of like how it's all Jake).</p><p>Or there's chilli crab--another Singapore speciality that I've always found troubling because the crabs need to be kept alive until they're cooked, meaning you see the poor creatures in tanks waiting to be chosen and hauled to their deaths. </p><p>And yes, unless you're vegan everything you eat was once alive... but you don't usually have to look them in the eye and try to figure out if they'd rather be put out of their misery quickly or left to live a little longer-- the book this reminds me of is Jack Ketchum's <u>The Girl Next Door</u>. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Vx64RfFP3RabNY3SvUd3IWQEYK2YyO46t1oXHpkttGgemsqw10pa8L-DWVw8XlH7OrvZwN6_Fz0uw5FH4sPAMmJvcRcZf-1FJ0BChr83_r0yHQiA6uEHvVxBh_FkHdN4HYzFoQm8NYcYDBspstEIrMDoVWGIEms5gXYDWLEB4lAmpVQPQYE75j_lVtqK/s698/chilicrab.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="374" data-original-width="698" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Vx64RfFP3RabNY3SvUd3IWQEYK2YyO46t1oXHpkttGgemsqw10pa8L-DWVw8XlH7OrvZwN6_Fz0uw5FH4sPAMmJvcRcZf-1FJ0BChr83_r0yHQiA6uEHvVxBh_FkHdN4HYzFoQm8NYcYDBspstEIrMDoVWGIEms5gXYDWLEB4lAmpVQPQYE75j_lVtqK/s320/chilicrab.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>That's a book that stays with you. That's the mark of a great story isn't it? That it sticks in your mind for ages after and, just to make it worse, it's supposed to be based on a true story. </p><p>Between the two, I'd say chilli crab is the less traumatic experience. And it's truly delicious too, only to really enjoy it you've got to get involved and be willing to dig in deep and get dirty (same with reading) to get the full experience.</p><p>And then there's BBQ Sambal Stingray that reminds me of my first reading of The Orton Diaries.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDjdbJPX-X6c2Fopr-KOPU8ormyvhBZ3BSBSzy6pRuzPyR0ovpuoQvTIgEcVfm3ONkAZSKDy4HolenA9iBn3DtzVLv_bu0BHLpMQwIheiL9lO49OXEIKsjyMjGJTJYMXVBYC8BrW78BLfO1FUhPMzduZ_XStlj0Sn1XVD1dnKhm7N8Ny-VbUUXeh4U-k3s/s727/sambalsting.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="489" data-original-width="727" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDjdbJPX-X6c2Fopr-KOPU8ormyvhBZ3BSBSzy6pRuzPyR0ovpuoQvTIgEcVfm3ONkAZSKDy4HolenA9iBn3DtzVLv_bu0BHLpMQwIheiL9lO49OXEIKsjyMjGJTJYMXVBYC8BrW78BLfO1FUhPMzduZ_XStlj0Sn1XVD1dnKhm7N8Ny-VbUUXeh4U-k3s/s320/sambalsting.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Traditionally the stingray is served barbecued, smeared with sambal chilli sauce and often served with chinchalok (sauce made of fermented shrimp). </p><p>My first experience of reading Joe Orton's diaries was flavourful, exciting and coloured everything I took in for ages. Sambal stingray is a similar experience. The taste is sensational and with every mouthful you experience anew the sensation of sliding the succulent, firm flesh off the ribs of cartilage holding it together. You keep thinking you're done--but you keep getting pulled back for just one more taste. </p><p>These are all delicious food experiences. But when I was under the weather, I couldn't face any of these books or foods. I needed comfort eats just like I needed comfort reads. </p><p>Confession: I'm still taking it easy and the books by my bed are currently Elizabeth Peters, Ann B Ross, Lee Harris, Vivien Chien... writers who nurture me the same way as my comfort food--Economy Rice--does. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1KF4igl3AZuXoA93e9oyIp47fOe_LjIOOH1H2vST5rUOa-APb-wJBE7-wUXqXZWIYrG5YrDn7XRb-qZ0BJZsoNDo-vYoB-2FR9XTo_1U0D7DtC_rTSW9no_xZTaHan7nfubL61BmdE_Xfru5xmnYeno6GulusjZP6h57hh9cAESxG9GXCg40_smcjL1On/s4624/EcoRice.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2604" data-original-width="4624" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1KF4igl3AZuXoA93e9oyIp47fOe_LjIOOH1H2vST5rUOa-APb-wJBE7-wUXqXZWIYrG5YrDn7XRb-qZ0BJZsoNDo-vYoB-2FR9XTo_1U0D7DtC_rTSW9no_xZTaHan7nfubL61BmdE_Xfru5xmnYeno6GulusjZP6h57hh9cAESxG9GXCg40_smcjL1On/s320/EcoRice.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFDqp1h3eCSP6myOnn1FlPOxkBa1FFAfCIleFDoEJiaKuc-N-bmcGuwckFiNYjID5_KLX1Qt2S_qkczG4iCMuSU5CQ-WIh-bLnfnllmp6tekF2xKYmhHYHbyrfq9nb7z8EiSIdGjYbZCJCD1sorDebO_BHwMU7rBXswBFLBrrPAjusVZK4OEFSIcrXR5GT/s4329/EcoRiceSign.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="763" data-original-width="4329" height="56" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFDqp1h3eCSP6myOnn1FlPOxkBa1FFAfCIleFDoEJiaKuc-N-bmcGuwckFiNYjID5_KLX1Qt2S_qkczG4iCMuSU5CQ-WIh-bLnfnllmp6tekF2xKYmhHYHbyrfq9nb7z8EiSIdGjYbZCJCD1sorDebO_BHwMU7rBXswBFLBrrPAjusVZK4OEFSIcrXR5GT/s320/EcoRiceSign.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>With these books/ dishes you know that what you get will be 'same though different' and 'different but the same'; tasty and nourishing without being too challenging. Costing between $3 and $5, they won't sear your taste buds or take up too much brain space.</p><p>Though these are the kind of dishes I found boring when I was growing up (and someone else was cooking) I appreciate them now!</p><p>Okay-- Jeff Siger's <u>At Any Cost </u>is on the pile too because though that's tasty and different, it's a safe 'risk' because I trust him as a writer; kind of like I'll risk the occasional laksa or roast meat rice from a familiar stall even when I'm being cautious.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiib8nMA4wU1FJ8CQnMXfNkOpoV8jA4zm6nBguhCVasN2Uk6oH-iv9bgONJW4R5JEISp7vfESWZG-keH4PMY3co7A4VHlPNqdR2Tc9HnojBe7uaJiToFUDf7E7BiBxymAgAS0OSJgF3NH8ea6XCfFaZUc7ayOJ8_Sh1k-L_4WjspCD20ofmASvPmGSuVexg/s2631/laksa.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1821" data-original-width="2631" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiib8nMA4wU1FJ8CQnMXfNkOpoV8jA4zm6nBguhCVasN2Uk6oH-iv9bgONJW4R5JEISp7vfESWZG-keH4PMY3co7A4VHlPNqdR2Tc9HnojBe7uaJiToFUDf7E7BiBxymAgAS0OSJgF3NH8ea6XCfFaZUc7ayOJ8_Sh1k-L_4WjspCD20ofmASvPmGSuVexg/s320/laksa.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7pQ3x1XAdDDo9Xv_Mhh-zbCJ8gK08ltt6qWodYdOnZBYTPhXVEEVTNW4F9qcJ7zBn3F_ovmqXWQWRKKduuYAnh4YSPNSVXO_YpOAlDsT9td19RynyQDnj5wAWbLmPzbmAQ6YIy8CBjBBm7PNspnwVoTYB8_SZd2v1hcL_fRoXi5FcILWlMB4T3M8YoDe0/s3840/porkrice.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2160" data-original-width="3840" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7pQ3x1XAdDDo9Xv_Mhh-zbCJ8gK08ltt6qWodYdOnZBYTPhXVEEVTNW4F9qcJ7zBn3F_ovmqXWQWRKKduuYAnh4YSPNSVXO_YpOAlDsT9td19RynyQDnj5wAWbLmPzbmAQ6YIy8CBjBBm7PNspnwVoTYB8_SZd2v1hcL_fRoXi5FcILWlMB4T3M8YoDe0/s320/porkrice.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Returning to a stall you know is like returning to a series you love--and like meeting with old friends to find out what's been happening in their lives. </p><p>Which can be the best part of both eating and reading together!</p><p>Happy eating and reading everyone!</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Ovidia Yuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05749549092493567689noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-72299078721801879872024-02-25T16:00:00.008-05:002024-02-26T00:41:30.964-05:00From Kenya to Zanzibar<p> <span style="color: #38761d; font-family: verdana;"><b>Annamaria on Monday</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);">I am being roasted in Zanzibar, a fascinating place nonetheless. Here are some highlights of this past week </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(56, 118, 29);">Samburu: </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkwzCZNE2wbt7-RnKm9NJ1azk13r6091w-ew_86tjHLvluCS-HnMCNNEiB_E16S5lksFcxVxM8Jrl8wkEMjXvBnVfGkN0XzmzD8zZvy6MGeKU65Sic308gxDWTuDf0Igx6WfI_Ig0KeDRl2dpAgauxqvs-1IE-N1DEbhOpb8-FTz9hZ7MhvBOxy2CAdy4/s4032/IMG_0614.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkwzCZNE2wbt7-RnKm9NJ1azk13r6091w-ew_86tjHLvluCS-HnMCNNEiB_E16S5lksFcxVxM8Jrl8wkEMjXvBnVfGkN0XzmzD8zZvy6MGeKU65Sic308gxDWTuDf0Igx6WfI_Ig0KeDRl2dpAgauxqvs-1IE-N1DEbhOpb8-FTz9hZ7MhvBOxy2CAdy4/w400-h300/IMG_0614.jpeg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: verdana;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtH-ymPsrNl58L42YWCaMhx6NSLfuR_Ef6H4U7_cF6MRr2XYQH9WY-MwGUIAxDYN_E19lfR4SBKc0okRA7hSTLYnwnl5VWZoArZhEKQi6UQpiFZxM24WWI0r7DPmgoRr5HIx-Vr6n4c3_yMO3SwrHqDgUF7YmRkNzipTMq2wxsozC3Ta3-G-2oH2itcuE/s1803/IMG_5909.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1803" data-original-width="1602" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtH-ymPsrNl58L42YWCaMhx6NSLfuR_Ef6H4U7_cF6MRr2XYQH9WY-MwGUIAxDYN_E19lfR4SBKc0okRA7hSTLYnwnl5VWZoArZhEKQi6UQpiFZxM24WWI0r7DPmgoRr5HIx-Vr6n4c3_yMO3SwrHqDgUF7YmRkNzipTMq2wxsozC3Ta3-G-2oH2itcuE/w355-h400/IMG_5909.jpeg" width="355" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqiYBGyNiUvkdBMYPfLrXLPXIrFjyOj-Gx3LdjPMONijgxgXLHeV8A4XDbyIXY0EdDXhJv0sVtfT2SecaRz5yJD_cuHNwLXkqIGM_cHu4EYQL3_0WAXys2aJhsQ3CXhvSp0Eppl_CK3D1EFeXKv3_Mmtnpy7YskjmxfOagVB_6mxBDFh29q-y57rQbNg/s4032/IMG_5979.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqiYBGyNiUvkdBMYPfLrXLPXIrFjyOj-Gx3LdjPMONijgxgXLHeV8A4XDbyIXY0EdDXhJv0sVtfT2SecaRz5yJD_cuHNwLXkqIGM_cHu4EYQL3_0WAXys2aJhsQ3CXhvSp0Eppl_CK3D1EFeXKv3_Mmtnpy7YskjmxfOagVB_6mxBDFh29q-y57rQbNg/w300-h400/IMG_5979.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf6Sa6FLJ7UbdifUwM1eFjGWtUkZ7pGTLC1g0hpseIt7bXDB2J53WcptgBfAhySGDGH7aUVeStbEXRPcW_HSRbwiQ4thw2Bdc5SqPZj9yowlVK8ahri3gcnlF1-NTbSZ57kxCYU6E7VcP_Vt5VF-UsXoP-P0af0sww35sLPuf6YTZgUhpSZWDIfVCcTgs/s4032/IMG_5854.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf6Sa6FLJ7UbdifUwM1eFjGWtUkZ7pGTLC1g0hpseIt7bXDB2J53WcptgBfAhySGDGH7aUVeStbEXRPcW_HSRbwiQ4thw2Bdc5SqPZj9yowlVK8ahri3gcnlF1-NTbSZ57kxCYU6E7VcP_Vt5VF-UsXoP-P0af0sww35sLPuf6YTZgUhpSZWDIfVCcTgs/w400-h300/IMG_5854.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq704yPfXOJ6gPagrsZ-jWgppxZvxgn5sDI86pfvh4F62NSRjmapIlMhfMZ7X0XTPZEQ-uLPHGjjdagaOJf8Shczj81l8HOVBeE5gT9020pRl5MT3Bci6b3AKUJbCjUVyzmcvWUBFAfMcCu1TyqlFW1BBZv4Z8D0XeD4L4ji3NqwXT6w0BJckuPc4PUUI/s3024/IMG_6138.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2889" data-original-width="3024" height="383" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq704yPfXOJ6gPagrsZ-jWgppxZvxgn5sDI86pfvh4F62NSRjmapIlMhfMZ7X0XTPZEQ-uLPHGjjdagaOJf8Shczj81l8HOVBeE5gT9020pRl5MT3Bci6b3AKUJbCjUVyzmcvWUBFAfMcCu1TyqlFW1BBZv4Z8D0XeD4L4ji3NqwXT6w0BJckuPc4PUUI/w400-h383/IMG_6138.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The airstrip as we were leaving</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Zanzibar: Day one</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj0Wcy76E69LNrsmCeai2FgteIQymNFcRlpE-GkUwbHQaAHK-Rjo4zlKQyhZuVZelaLiPK2uqc0FrV-kdWH2UvYaCb079MK5OpJGAeWUdcYLrorvvt0Ic01Ka2vW6aPVpwsvKzQ1GHjEMvDO9gY4-JsodxZ3urT4UcJy64iIxBTH6V-BP5Us8asuDBs6E/s4032/IMG_6155.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj0Wcy76E69LNrsmCeai2FgteIQymNFcRlpE-GkUwbHQaAHK-Rjo4zlKQyhZuVZelaLiPK2uqc0FrV-kdWH2UvYaCb079MK5OpJGAeWUdcYLrorvvt0Ic01Ka2vW6aPVpwsvKzQ1GHjEMvDO9gY4-JsodxZ3urT4UcJy64iIxBTH6V-BP5Us8asuDBs6E/w400-h300/IMG_6155.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvwfuKBfoijng56yD9gC_qgT-952PAPgPp0z0k9__lvOkK9xwekv6iujwEWBVv8pu-QANYmPpFS8v-1K0zDOpintmdW_0PmQVFQYTWMPpoy5WeEenldKuJt1meh7jl3WnVSJj20sxr1kqR0ovf4JpL1HhLcr_ix1nP1JI3eSc-jbboSEPRBjZ3Wa2tgs/s4032/IMG_6160.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvwfuKBfoijng56yD9gC_qgT-952PAPgPp0z0k9__lvOkK9xwekv6iujwEWBVv8pu-QANYmPpFS8v-1K0zDOpintmdW_0PmQVFQYTWMPpoy5WeEenldKuJt1meh7jl3WnVSJj20sxr1kqR0ovf4JpL1HhLcr_ix1nP1JI3eSc-jbboSEPRBjZ3Wa2tgs/w400-h300/IMG_6160.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b></span><p></p>Annamaria Alfierihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311596277267789834noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-19247163326571447392024-02-24T00:00:00.001-05:002024-02-24T00:00:00.238-05:00Murder à la grecque redux<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcEfkcePlDROAoEFXhtJJ0iBHTgUyeUKSFoWXP5URmHkvypSQe1barO3xusFGlrVeQrp2DM6NmocAh2ulC6GauTuq94bWHcjWsP6PwCDR9NMHZhy9nuo3eTQWmtlmb7VXjTXU8LqLvYlTxway-hou1k0SxKb73BKGhhaZceKD8b_WmUzoefaQIYWmdIx0/s640/MIE%20panel%20at%20Bouchercon%20St.%20Louis%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcEfkcePlDROAoEFXhtJJ0iBHTgUyeUKSFoWXP5URmHkvypSQe1barO3xusFGlrVeQrp2DM6NmocAh2ulC6GauTuq94bWHcjWsP6PwCDR9NMHZhy9nuo3eTQWmtlmb7VXjTXU8LqLvYlTxway-hou1k0SxKb73BKGhhaZceKD8b_WmUzoefaQIYWmdIx0/w400-h300/MIE%20panel%20at%20Bouchercon%20St.%20Louis%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />February 5th was the 14th anniversary of my first post on Murder is Everywhere. It was a guest post opportunity extended by the late, great inimitable Leighton Gage. That post led to another guest post, and ultimately to an invitation to be a permanent member of the MIE writing family. Agreeing to write that first post turned out to be one of the best decisions of my mystery writing life, for it's led me to more friendships, opportunities, and rich experiences than I'd ever imagined. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That same guest opportunity is now available on Sundays to other authors. I can assure you that you'll be well served on taking up that invitation. For one never knows where it can lead as we hit the six million views mark. <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> Here's what Leighton had to say in his blush-inducing generous introduction of my first post:<br /></span>
</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWPFvG0uXpJJf_74Knzdpf3uVG00VYtfiJ3NiUg9sIbdDsduCT2xonYppDyMUS89zYAChThyNXV46O63ppN4CEFZXkO57JUZQWBMTgleKpFENsAOWomqfdFY-o_g8L9ZB6aV_OtgHGtI/s1600-h/Jeff+Headshot.bmp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWPFvG0uXpJJf_74Knzdpf3uVG00VYtfiJ3NiUg9sIbdDsduCT2xonYppDyMUS89zYAChThyNXV46O63ppN4CEFZXkO57JUZQWBMTgleKpFENsAOWomqfdFY-o_g8L9ZB6aV_OtgHGtI/s400/Jeff+Headshot.bmp" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Saturday is the day that we reserve for guest authors.
Today it's the turn of the estimable Jeffrey Siger.</span></span> </i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><style><font size="5"><i>@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</i></font></style> <span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Jeff was born and raised in Pittsburgh. He
practiced law at a major Wall Street law firm before establishing his
own New York City law firm and continuing as one of its name partners
until giving it all up to write full-time among the people, life, and
politics of his beloved Mykonos, his adopted home of twenty-five years.
When he’s not in Greece, his other home is a farm outside New York
City. Murder in Mykonos (Poisoned Pen Press 2009), the first in
his Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis series, was the #1 best selling
English-language novel in Greece, and the Greek version of his just
published second novel in the series, Assassins of Athens (Poisoned Pen Press, 2010), instantly became one of Greece’s top ten best sellers.</i></span> </div><span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i><i><br />
Here's Jeff in his own words and pictures:</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAxZ6blqpUVleYOThv3Lj3n-u9oJWbiaiQpbrKvLFnLEEUbZwUehjbq9j45ySVwl-Uy0W12M8SpZp2bfzgSmO-ZKy-r7hI6Z1IDiitCZoUjr-xaQEc96Jf7sKCqiWy0MMydeVGza94eQ/s1600-h/delos+1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAxZ6blqpUVleYOThv3Lj3n-u9oJWbiaiQpbrKvLFnLEEUbZwUehjbq9j45ySVwl-Uy0W12M8SpZp2bfzgSmO-ZKy-r7hI6Z1IDiitCZoUjr-xaQEc96Jf7sKCqiWy0MMydeVGza94eQ/s400/delos+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">I
live within the cradle of European civilization, less than a mile from
the birthplace of the god of light, amidst a circle of islands that once
hosted the crossroads of trade for the ancient world. But it’s eons
since the birth of Apollo, two and a half millennia beyond its glory
days of commerce, and 2000 years since the island heart of this Cycladic
chain was obliterated from the face of the earth and its 20,000
residents slaughtered or sold into slavery in retribution for backing
the wrong protector. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Over the ensuing centuries a succession of
plunderers, foreign and domestic, made off with its treasures and the
small, razed island came to serve as little more than a source of
building materials and hunting grounds for surrounding islanders. In
1872 things began to change. The French School of Archeology started
excavations and today it represents the most varied collection of ruins
in all of Greece, conveying to visitors a sense of eternal spirituality
that no doubt was what made it second only to Delphi in sacred
importance to the ancients.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">But that’s Delos. I don’t live there. No
one does. No one is allowed to, or for that matter to be born or die
there. The Athenians decided in 425 BC to purify Apollo’s birthplace,
and removed all graves to the nearby island of Rhenia. I don’t live
there either, only a handful do, but the spear fishing off its shores is
about as good as it gets in that part of the world.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOHqjxeN5XwwerPv-aRGt-F3qynnDUKPzfsTqAmPEIZNhlm4a4NUOmN-axd8lTsLcgY77lHDvIYnwVsXzw6Jdh_k6F-oluQgaXAa0kCCh7SJJsYGxF8GmcVHzMcul1AumxTjIyyMP_Ejc/s1600-h/JMS.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOHqjxeN5XwwerPv-aRGt-F3qynnDUKPzfsTqAmPEIZNhlm4a4NUOmN-axd8lTsLcgY77lHDvIYnwVsXzw6Jdh_k6F-oluQgaXAa0kCCh7SJJsYGxF8GmcVHzMcul1AumxTjIyyMP_Ejc/s400/JMS.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">My
home is on another neighbor island, and though larger than Delos (one
and a half times the size of Manhattan) it barely received much notice
in Delos’ heyday. Yes, it was known for agriculture and highly
desirable clay deposits used to create that era’s equivalents of tuna
fish cans, pickle jars, and cereal boxes, but it definitely was not the
main show. Not even an opening act. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">It
was an island of granite, forced to endure centuries of foreign
occupiers, one after another from the Middle Ages through the middle of
the 20<sup>th</sup> Century. Those years generated a lot of history,
filled with daring pirates, dashing heroes (male and female),
bittersweet realities, and many tales, but there’s no time to tell those
stories now. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Besides, times have changed, the focus of
visitors today is on the present and I doubt a time traveler from just
fifty—certainly seventy—years ago would recognize my island home today.
It is a new sort of international cross roads, one of dazzling beaches,
mega-yachts, private jets, and 24/7 lifestyles. It is Europe’s most
popular tourist island, the sexy Aegean island of Mykonos.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Assuming you’ve never experienced my
island’s incredible light, the unmatched beauty of its sea, and
omnipresent energy that would do the gods of Delos proud, the thought of
my choosing to live in such a “tourist paradise” might lead you to
question my sanity or at least my taste. Believe me, there are a
lifetime of reasons for asking that question, but my decision to make
Mykonos my home is not one of them; and for a very simple reason:
Mykonos is not Disneyland, it is a real place filled with remarkable
people. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPR_IQaQi_DUQD5r8FahsKEK_5Dr5O0j2_P6docpOWTbBvTX-JTymJJhIlbHTVw2I1w1IOHnBmLKclMzijIxWSxmSuvPbbBjqMx2uk2ke3pC9-6Ye0DsqcHlVNi-l_zERhYS2zFT6v6VM/s1600-h/mykonos+town+1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPR_IQaQi_DUQD5r8FahsKEK_5Dr5O0j2_P6docpOWTbBvTX-JTymJJhIlbHTVw2I1w1IOHnBmLKclMzijIxWSxmSuvPbbBjqMx2uk2ke3pC9-6Ye0DsqcHlVNi-l_zERhYS2zFT6v6VM/s400/mykonos+town+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Mykonians
are a warm and hospitable breed, raising families in keeping with
deeply held traditions, and yet they are among the most accepting people
on earth. I’m continually amazed at how tourists intrude with cameras
upon the most personal of public events, such as a funeral, and not one
local objects. I once thought that was because Mykonians considered
tourist season some sort of annual tsunami that rushed in upon their
island for three months leaving them no choice but acceptance until it
receded in September. But I’ve come to think differently. Mykonians
overlook behavior from visitors that they would never tolerate from one
of their own because they know no offense or ill will is intended. They
accept that behavior for what it is: foreign.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJNuc38DYoX5a0cXcAzauoffVcQiTMkGIZfzLdD2Jk_RWVCQiqiBtpk_RujqDLuAkwvrlI3_psYysXKXJ97VUMtbB_Z8ituwNx3kmT6sGTVTNwF33et1isHXq-mN1eKj1_-FMMCrhTUTc/s1600-h/mykonos+countryside.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJNuc38DYoX5a0cXcAzauoffVcQiTMkGIZfzLdD2Jk_RWVCQiqiBtpk_RujqDLuAkwvrlI3_psYysXKXJ97VUMtbB_Z8ituwNx3kmT6sGTVTNwF33et1isHXq-mN1eKj1_-FMMCrhTUTc/s400/mykonos+countryside.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">There
is an additional reason I live there. I write mystery thrillers that
just happen to explore serious societal issues confronting modern Greece
while touching upon the country’s ancient roots. During tourist
season, many visitors from the mainland and beyond willingly share their
private thoughts and confidences in relaxed beachside chats or pre-dawn
whispered conversations in a club or bar. The world comes to party on
Mykonos, and I sit with pen and (inconspicuous) pad in hand gathering in
all the material they’re willing to share. Yes, I’ve learned to surf
the tsunami. Fish it, too. Hard work, but alas, we must suffer for our
art.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span>You can, and we here at </span></i><span>Murder is Everywhere</span><i><span> hope you will, visit Jeff at his website: </span></i></span> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.jeffreysiger.com/"><span>http://www.jeffreysiger.com</span></a></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span>He's a great guy, and a fine writer! </span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span>––Leighton <br /></span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span> </span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span>––Jeff </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Jeff's Upcoming In Person Events</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div id="main-wrapper" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; float: left; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; overflow-wrap: break-word; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; width: 410px; word-spacing: 0px;"><div class="main section" id="main"><div class="widget Blog" data-version="1" id="Blog1" style="border-bottom: 0px dotted rgb(204, 204, 204); margin: 0px 0px 1.5em; padding: 0px 0px 1.5em;"><div class="blog-posts hfeed"><div class="date-outer"><div class="date-posts"><div class="post-outer"><div class="post hentry" style="border-bottom: 1px dotted rgb(204, 204, 204); margin: 0.5em 0px 1.5em; padding-bottom: 1.5em;"><div class="post-body entry-content" style="line-height: 1.6em; margin: 0px 0px 0.75em;"><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span>Thursday, February 29, 7:00 p.m. PT</span></strong><br /><strong><span>Vroman’s Bookstore</span></strong><br />Author Speaking and Signing<br />Pasadena, CA</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span>Saturday, March 9, 3:00 p.m. CT</span></strong><br /><strong><span>Murder By The Book</span></strong><br />Author Speaking and Signing<br />Houston, TX</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;"> </p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="post-share-buttons" style="display: inline-block; margin-top: 0.5em; position: relative; vertical-align: middle;"><a class="goog-inline-block share-button sb-email" href="https://www.blogger.com/share-post.g?blogID=1990338437877873686&postID=4208333129215808724&target=email" style="background: url("/img/share_buttons_20_3.png") 0px 0px no-repeat !important; 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</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">This time last year, I headed out to one of my favorite
writing hotels up the coast to try to finish a draft of <i>Cheap Trills</i>. I
wrapped up the book there and at the Bonaventure Hotel in downtown Los Angeles. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzsD-x4XdIKe6tqErsI_kwe5PAknPW7LT6uMD2o2t7WCKo1IRAPiJ6GZP_aT49BLk_t9v0Hd-O8AZQyvAmgvsV8tG31zw6Udm-0izAT0vkRK_lpi2qlXPlEc79nFCHXAEnsG2mJK2MMSuVFqdBPha5-yYvA6tZ21sfbFyUaCBeNKuU9tsDC1QG-JfJ7oxc/s4000/20231129_084829(1).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzsD-x4XdIKe6tqErsI_kwe5PAknPW7LT6uMD2o2t7WCKo1IRAPiJ6GZP_aT49BLk_t9v0Hd-O8AZQyvAmgvsV8tG31zw6Udm-0izAT0vkRK_lpi2qlXPlEc79nFCHXAEnsG2mJK2MMSuVFqdBPha5-yYvA6tZ21sfbFyUaCBeNKuU9tsDC1QG-JfJ7oxc/s320/20231129_084829(1).jpg" width="144" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My last writing view.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">As I think I’ve written before, I usually hide out in a
hotel for the beginning, sometime in the middle, and to finish up every book.
Being there on my own, getting up early, taking walks to restaurants or bars
where I work over a glass of wine or a coffee, and just being able to live in
the book for a few days, without doing the dishes or having to be anywhere,
really helps in my process.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswjWOOlCIjdFDfbCqENmtkGvdoNI9eHQm8XK6Z3ScrPYjOu0M5Toao3YZjitaTYwXdxVbcK4S0DAFowqgK_6tI1HhcqkG7ImeB3CNU9-uiuKSXEZpGbObJplxJ58xcWD1ZFRRmYfwQSiTHud-oGbM8le_ceXK0HCxPXznlJVvepcjPQhwBrVUDJj1uuCZ/s3264/King%20Arthur%20%231.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswjWOOlCIjdFDfbCqENmtkGvdoNI9eHQm8XK6Z3ScrPYjOu0M5Toao3YZjitaTYwXdxVbcK4S0DAFowqgK_6tI1HhcqkG7ImeB3CNU9-uiuKSXEZpGbObJplxJ58xcWD1ZFRRmYfwQSiTHud-oGbM8le_ceXK0HCxPXznlJVvepcjPQhwBrVUDJj1uuCZ/s320/King%20Arthur%20%231.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes my best ideas come in longhand, over breakfast.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">This week, as I contemplate the best place to really dig
into a new project I’m working on, I wanted to revisit one of my writing “escapes”—this
time in Palm Springs—to consider whether it was the best place to begin this
new, and for the moment, secret, writing venture. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjhbN0-1gMKMVTrQFVqiKinjmc7w3hrTxmieMR8sfTmSdp4WG7aoo4DmabCfEsBxEtT-pnZvieuFHhNP-UYKvT4UAoVud-CYLrTZUEhutqQzJtmDAzvsUNtUAEpRSFNBsKXtZ2w1Q8hagcZo6bGLu-PvNtnoYYBdzAEp2FwffFDWd7n8zC_yCaONvzuH8P/s700/0a3fc71a9847e90567d51c07364955fb.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="700" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjhbN0-1gMKMVTrQFVqiKinjmc7w3hrTxmieMR8sfTmSdp4WG7aoo4DmabCfEsBxEtT-pnZvieuFHhNP-UYKvT4UAoVud-CYLrTZUEhutqQzJtmDAzvsUNtUAEpRSFNBsKXtZ2w1Q8hagcZo6bGLu-PvNtnoYYBdzAEp2FwffFDWd7n8zC_yCaONvzuH8P/s320/0a3fc71a9847e90567d51c07364955fb.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /> </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Palm Springs has changed a lot since I arrived in California
in 1986.<span> </span>It’s still stunningly beautiful
and I always feel my shoulders descend from my ears the instant I arrive, just
from the light and the air. It also seems to have spectacular sunrises and
sunsets, which always cheer me up.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdDLv-_W7jMutkpoQdmeoveGMFzmS57u72WLnPFSGIu-Jswq3D93ldmhTMBuiiO-R_g7WaznPzokbbi2h3StHg0FmWyDgKCRcNmtXVimmiQJgrq1MNLTM7Y2j7nLxvRApWdPaWbqh799H-ZTgqPViwcdkrpyvVfMupaslEb4zvWg2LFdqkb5xk4BND9bXD/s640/Palm%20Springs%20Birthday%202015%20125.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdDLv-_W7jMutkpoQdmeoveGMFzmS57u72WLnPFSGIu-Jswq3D93ldmhTMBuiiO-R_g7WaznPzokbbi2h3StHg0FmWyDgKCRcNmtXVimmiQJgrq1MNLTM7Y2j7nLxvRApWdPaWbqh799H-ZTgqPViwcdkrpyvVfMupaslEb4zvWg2LFdqkb5xk4BND9bXD/s320/Palm%20Springs%20Birthday%202015%20125.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGcFV7NFF9YAVxVAVgqyinf_iG8f1Dn4Cft1SULrbCJe-ZPI7e5nmJds7U5-FuSIKmaYjx1KZ0Tkida0mSFD_EDnskMuNYg2aFTMRaCM5d9X29hdrLWwIbdICabyT_lcE65aYXBDfEl7Bp8YZzaqf7ojGhX0KoT8LNXEKrxfx685C2A8XI_IpWP43F4KY/s4000/20220314_062840.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGcFV7NFF9YAVxVAVgqyinf_iG8f1Dn4Cft1SULrbCJe-ZPI7e5nmJds7U5-FuSIKmaYjx1KZ0Tkida0mSFD_EDnskMuNYg2aFTMRaCM5d9X29hdrLWwIbdICabyT_lcE65aYXBDfEl7Bp8YZzaqf7ojGhX0KoT8LNXEKrxfx685C2A8XI_IpWP43F4KY/s320/20220314_062840.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsCf4bVGF6qNq5jLLWifC1a4r9hZsg1Qc1HIHJhpN5Gg1K-9kbjdYa1rJOxp1Cj5bdkgbNDb_I1X8V_zt7XzXnCCOcw5a4gAytMNu6-jE2-Pu4CSe13gOUKhDA7EVEgOxUSfWZCjru8rV3IfJDJLrUb0NUC9sw-IwbLUWJIB4fBEHgsq0oPr0W31I9KGb6/s3648/DSCN0692.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsCf4bVGF6qNq5jLLWifC1a4r9hZsg1Qc1HIHJhpN5Gg1K-9kbjdYa1rJOxp1Cj5bdkgbNDb_I1X8V_zt7XzXnCCOcw5a4gAytMNu6-jE2-Pu4CSe13gOUKhDA7EVEgOxUSfWZCjru8rV3IfJDJLrUb0NUC9sw-IwbLUWJIB4fBEHgsq0oPr0W31I9KGb6/s320/DSCN0692.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few views from my motel balcony<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">It used to be a somewhat sleepy town, but now, with two
weekends of Coachella, a major tennis tournament, a Film Festival, and various
other events, it’s busier and more expensive, so I don’t get there quite as
often as I did, either on my own, or with my husband, James.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKUtljk7tHoQoxERHKHURvtd3Dmb8UYLKhiXvE0ERqofDK4wISIqn9Vf_xAXE91JIVL3g0qdfTNdadXGEbd_5P4QwJulFwVTHukFsC1dqAw50QE46-_xX6vFc-LYY3tQGvnyXIol30NbPSrtGN_w5TF3B3ys8GN8lTLKczKKvpCfGM6k8Vt2GEyX6mAEk7/s800/royal%20sun.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="520" data-original-width="800" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKUtljk7tHoQoxERHKHURvtd3Dmb8UYLKhiXvE0ERqofDK4wISIqn9Vf_xAXE91JIVL3g0qdfTNdadXGEbd_5P4QwJulFwVTHukFsC1dqAw50QE46-_xX6vFc-LYY3tQGvnyXIol30NbPSrtGN_w5TF3B3ys8GN8lTLKczKKvpCfGM6k8Vt2GEyX6mAEk7/s320/royal%20sun.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Royal Sun Inn, sadly closed.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><p></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">For years, there were two spots where I would go, depending
on the time of year and the room rates. I don’t need a fancy hotel, though I
will take one if I can get a bargain. It doesn’t even need to have a
restaurant, as long as there are ones I can walk to nearby, that will let me
sit for a while.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUUFvlReueA9zJW2jVaFIimWXJbFpvmY0UUD87B9NKZM0N-uRihXUpQlxtSW8KAJgkW64Dh7rs2F_qx_phfY0mt18GxtBqs8GAIBzoQL_nVkM24lLmOBxntlHIAPsC4jss6WC7SAItqY02thRelf4OHy_LDvC0Vtozo7b6wNG1uxwYJm6sbI2KRxMYn95M/s640/PXL_20220314_135558607.PHOTOSPHERE.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="185" data-original-width="640" height="93" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUUFvlReueA9zJW2jVaFIimWXJbFpvmY0UUD87B9NKZM0N-uRihXUpQlxtSW8KAJgkW64Dh7rs2F_qx_phfY0mt18GxtBqs8GAIBzoQL_nVkM24lLmOBxntlHIAPsC4jss6WC7SAItqY02thRelf4OHy_LDvC0Vtozo7b6wNG1uxwYJm6sbI2KRxMYn95M/s320/PXL_20220314_135558607.PHOTOSPHERE.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Panoramic view from the back of the hotel<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"> <br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">My first writing retreat in the desert was the original
Royal Sun Inn, more of a motel than a hotel in the old days. At present, it’s
closed while new owners renovate it.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIJHT8F7-_f07YBme61xjOm3qCReeL5DEeJfIT_b-HMDdEMw5kTbmsvMsqCB1qRHR7fMUsPpFtebqXBZ-vVImaCNqKqpP97K_4js0ALQitUj8DryC0ZFnFbrbObrlVblytBXcecqaGmElGn1iQHZd43FPkPMWQBv6LSRoaI96uejbmZ9IYU1SfXa8Js8x_/s4000/20220314_071107.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIJHT8F7-_f07YBme61xjOm3qCReeL5DEeJfIT_b-HMDdEMw5kTbmsvMsqCB1qRHR7fMUsPpFtebqXBZ-vVImaCNqKqpP97K_4js0ALQitUj8DryC0ZFnFbrbObrlVblytBXcecqaGmElGn1iQHZd43FPkPMWQBv6LSRoaI96uejbmZ9IYU1SfXa8Js8x_/s320/20220314_071107.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Writing on the balcony at the Royal Sun<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><p></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">If you know Palm Springs, it sits just behind where South
Palm Canyon Drive curves to the left, towards the more southern desert cities and
is distinguished by its retro, A-line roof, back-facing balconies, proximity to
the Moorten Botanical Gardens, and the waffle machine in the breakfast room. </span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTCNyXSdA2HRD47UCMeAkLGpW57mAjM8JL4vij6MJoRVSdTepy3na8pK4-f5q2DRBfrEIzY-ofA5C9cDual3sUaSjaC_A22lhijMf5SY6POPVUldMPdhQfblYKl9zytTzAq8g1uJxanuylqjlDn3BSe72oMPcitleqytfz6wtindtzncQ72JLB1vM5pYXM/s543/311070_10150368863959679_1518478119_n.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="543" data-original-width="481" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTCNyXSdA2HRD47UCMeAkLGpW57mAjM8JL4vij6MJoRVSdTepy3na8pK4-f5q2DRBfrEIzY-ofA5C9cDual3sUaSjaC_A22lhijMf5SY6POPVUldMPdhQfblYKl9zytTzAq8g1uJxanuylqjlDn3BSe72oMPcitleqytfz6wtindtzncQ72JLB1vM5pYXM/s320/311070_10150368863959679_1518478119_n.jpeg" width="283" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking an inspiration break across the street at the Moorten Botanical Gardens.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Also by its $60 a night price and the fact that it’s
walkable to downtown Palm Springs, but away from the craziness of the party
zones. The new, gentrified version is set to open this year, but
whether it will be a writing haven or a hipster nightmare, remains to be seen.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">My other writing retreat for many years, especially in the
120 degree summers when they seriously dropped their prices, was The
Renaissance Palm Springs, which is just set back from downtown and offers two
highly air-conditioned restaurants,<span> </span>a
bar, and lots of shaded outdoor seating. <span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwbGD_k4C1sYzHl593mqJb6LBk23srKn5ulnZ99XPDhkFVfPuWeK6PdlXrEWFampYexr8Y4-B0RWJBn5vebESSyWKE-lRr3QbdWpf84h6uK_yJWrUfmrVAUFrwEFqlisSeHMiXnRe8259XtzeqFkiMUMq7AS4QyjsMSj9VxJaaxhyphenhyphenBi05KI6GX0MfThRyY/s900/renaissance-palm-springs.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="900" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwbGD_k4C1sYzHl593mqJb6LBk23srKn5ulnZ99XPDhkFVfPuWeK6PdlXrEWFampYexr8Y4-B0RWJBn5vebESSyWKE-lRr3QbdWpf84h6uK_yJWrUfmrVAUFrwEFqlisSeHMiXnRe8259XtzeqFkiMUMq7AS4QyjsMSj9VxJaaxhyphenhyphenBi05KI6GX0MfThRyY/s320/renaissance-palm-springs.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I always asked for a quiet room, non-pool side!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;">My routine there was to go downstairs when the restaurant
opened at 6am. The fabulous staff would let me go right to the unopened back of
the restaurant to work. They protected me from loud parties for a few hours and
were so supportive of what I was doing, one year they left me a “good luck
finishing the book” card at the front desk on my departure. signed by all the
servers. </span>
</p><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I would go back to work in my room until lunchtime, when I
would brave the heat for a two block walk to the Spa Resort Casino’s lunch
buffet and slot machines, which ALWAYS helped me write.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTWTf1zV6i7Q9hJKzUdEtfEQ7DmL0riKU-uj_ubv2BhDC8Nfb-bTxriTCJX7VkCIShJlypBTZo9Rs55WLtpKxhcOJM2sjb4OUUhAIubUnrLvbt-_8sT3_l5v-bWooDuV-el6g8xc2SHVv9M-rz4P_b6W09RbnmZ_hxnT1BMlMs1gEVjSlRJg3U8EMaty3Q/s640/10548882_10152688757849679_487378947114322432_o.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTWTf1zV6i7Q9hJKzUdEtfEQ7DmL0riKU-uj_ubv2BhDC8Nfb-bTxriTCJX7VkCIShJlypBTZo9Rs55WLtpKxhcOJM2sjb4OUUhAIubUnrLvbt-_8sT3_l5v-bWooDuV-el6g8xc2SHVv9M-rz4P_b6W09RbnmZ_hxnT1BMlMs1gEVjSlRJg3U8EMaty3Q/s320/10548882_10152688757849679_487378947114322432_o.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always a sucker for the nickel slots!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Back to the room for more work, then working over a drink at
the hotel happy hour, or maybe at the nearby Tonga Hut for a Painkiller or a
Mai Tai or the 60s throwback Melvin’s for a champagne cocktail, a chicken pot
pie, jazz piano, and a stab at a chapter or two. <br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh02Daak36EFz6bzpPioNnu_y4_JF_D9JaW2wBVfFXBlTUEQu8bf0tNk2zuC-XlMjP8qXZ8i6Oldi4Ru9rIU2fDffGn99z109Md4TsKuPthBjRAZfnrnNHM3K4bPZyC8v3MMRQPg0xm14j-urFhxDPaD2olNdDQWsVj25FDJFmv0qJRRD3v2Va8_Ejft7vA/s640/tonga-hut-palm-springs_interior3-1024x768.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh02Daak36EFz6bzpPioNnu_y4_JF_D9JaW2wBVfFXBlTUEQu8bf0tNk2zuC-XlMjP8qXZ8i6Oldi4Ru9rIU2fDffGn99z109Md4TsKuPthBjRAZfnrnNHM3K4bPZyC8v3MMRQPg0xm14j-urFhxDPaD2olNdDQWsVj25FDJFmv0qJRRD3v2Va8_Ejft7vA/s320/tonga-hut-palm-springs_interior3-1024x768.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entrance to the Tonga Hut<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQB-m-0TBhBZT0Eto0qqTtNZzcTDZhoVJGLl-N8HUh4_mt8577VX1lcFJ_D3ZikrBKWbJskpFy8mhXv3Kb-IaE4iGxlbkX-XQmaK1WiRDROnZLcxuLrMaJoXYL2eW60vlg1gSAbW7F8XcGxpaaTQY__E9UG79q4RcGqCWScrFP-mEY0m2x3rNFjQv79ChN/s550/melvyn-s-restaurant-lounge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="366" data-original-width="550" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQB-m-0TBhBZT0Eto0qqTtNZzcTDZhoVJGLl-N8HUh4_mt8577VX1lcFJ_D3ZikrBKWbJskpFy8mhXv3Kb-IaE4iGxlbkX-XQmaK1WiRDROnZLcxuLrMaJoXYL2eW60vlg1gSAbW7F8XcGxpaaTQY__E9UG79q4RcGqCWScrFP-mEY0m2x3rNFjQv79ChN/s320/melvyn-s-restaurant-lounge.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's always the sense that Frank Sinatra's ghost is going to walk into Melvin's.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Some days, I would take an hour off for inspiration at the
Palm Springs Art Museum.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitwocW-tYWz1hsZExHT96lVMlqtPg2aqto4HSPwANbZMnE8eVbr6AUGHP8_IGlbkxzM1H-KM0_kwji1BB0k9JvYcxZ875us-bdnvlcAayyZ89dK-bJepXGDKEKTiHqr3fRSkVhlH9NOZUdPx6lAxHfnx6nQHx_MVVW1Xf-vXyrLu7Vfr3TsDqbpPCZHdqC/s640/Palm%20Springs%20Birthday%202015%20059.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitwocW-tYWz1hsZExHT96lVMlqtPg2aqto4HSPwANbZMnE8eVbr6AUGHP8_IGlbkxzM1H-KM0_kwji1BB0k9JvYcxZ875us-bdnvlcAayyZ89dK-bJepXGDKEKTiHqr3fRSkVhlH9NOZUdPx6lAxHfnx6nQHx_MVVW1Xf-vXyrLu7Vfr3TsDqbpPCZHdqC/s320/Palm%20Springs%20Birthday%202015%20059.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goofing around with a camera at the Palm Springs Art Museum.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Those were the days. I wrote a couple of books there and I miss it. But it may be time to embrace change and find a new place to inspire a word count.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">--- Wendall<br /></span></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Wendall Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17478448774987982221noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-59107696603740260822024-02-21T06:00:00.001-05:002024-02-21T06:00:00.342-05:00I, AI, AND ME<p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Wed--Kwei</b></span></p><p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-family: georgia;">Welcome, dear reader, to the whimsical world of AI, where the lines between science fiction and daily reality blur faster than you can say "machine learning." My life, intertwined with the quirks of AI, has been nothing short of a sitcom episode, complete with laugh tracks, face-palms, and the occasional existential crisis. So, buckle up as we dive into the hilariously unpredictable adventures of I, AI, and Me.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Fine Art of Prompting Picasso</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"></p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The prompt is </span><i style="font-family: georgia;">the</i><span style="font-family: georgia;"> fundamental building block of AI image generation. Crafting the perfect prompt for AI is akin to whispering sweet nothings to a capricious cat: you're never sure if you'll get a purr or a scratch. </span><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqhtLO96uls16a_cccUBjAiKv7gxWSnxfLfSig-vRmRTIiUWFna1e_OvqUd_ZAUm73wRKooSrCMd7CWw9uj4k9Z1avOMwbIKniBsqTisByvb0Gxs_i0i0ahyphenhyphenQenYyt-DxrpM3Tz8pOwtM5WehkzWtNHB2Ho-LRB8UJrN_EmLYyb4hUJ04qdGPa2vDfZyDe/s1024/picasso.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqhtLO96uls16a_cccUBjAiKv7gxWSnxfLfSig-vRmRTIiUWFna1e_OvqUd_ZAUm73wRKooSrCMd7CWw9uj4k9Z1avOMwbIKniBsqTisByvb0Gxs_i0i0ahyphenhyphenQenYyt-DxrpM3Tz8pOwtM5WehkzWtNHB2Ho-LRB8UJrN_EmLYyb4hUJ04qdGPa2vDfZyDe/w400-h400/picasso.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;">When prompts go awry<o:p></o:p></span></b></p></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">My early days of prompt crafting were like throwing darts in the dark, hoping to hit the bullseye of coherence. But even now that I’m much better, AI-generated images can be quite bizarre. Three-legged dancers, disembodied limbs (not belonging to anyone), deformed limbs, and strangely elongated arms, as in the example below. I had Leonardo-AI (one of the leading AI image generators) create an image of two football players bro-hugging each other with the theme of friendship transcending their being on opposing teams. At a glance, the image seems fine until you look closer where the two players’ arms come together at the elbow (circled), and you realize the Black player’s forearm would have to be impossibly long from his elbow to where his hand is on the other player’s back (see the arrows).</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1166" data-original-width="1280" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Uyw9w-rBh8OqkiP7LGoJL2D_6a1JJL5q4N2fosZQiQhX8mDKkZf9Ph91oNjZfCdBDFdEJsMNmcDDrboTwlciJBbbHF1ezmYiFcAsCiaISHnrTkv0Bxl3nJjhi0e-afKxEdgJ0wbbyUQtwobdPsXIOaCTL7I-E1IvvC_GIvUbodYsqzoNN-Hn66Y8RDXQ/w400-h365/JACK&DARRYL2.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>“It’s okay, bro."</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Uyw9w-rBh8OqkiP7LGoJL2D_6a1JJL5q4N2fosZQiQhX8mDKkZf9Ph91oNjZfCdBDFdEJsMNmcDDrboTwlciJBbbHF1ezmYiFcAsCiaISHnrTkv0Bxl3nJjhi0e-afKxEdgJ0wbbyUQtwobdPsXIOaCTL7I-E1IvvC_GIvUbodYsqzoNN-Hn66Y8RDXQ/s1280/JACK&DARRYL2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Scolded by Silicon: The AI Etiquette Class<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB4U19Nzbtck49ncrKtN9I_tno5rlW71IwEivLAXvDhos4Mmx-6FPZA-4Ub9JFc06Jq2ZR711YLeCYKGPvF7FsJI9lyPM09W50FZMe10tbZKDF0CPAjfF4AGd7uuheBF-rVyuwriPWBbN7VCF3ANSVE3aPCa_pTHqmShFN7DvW5wngHrtrCSeLaLXODXy3/s1024/clarify.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB4U19Nzbtck49ncrKtN9I_tno5rlW71IwEivLAXvDhos4Mmx-6FPZA-4Ub9JFc06Jq2ZR711YLeCYKGPvF7FsJI9lyPM09W50FZMe10tbZKDF0CPAjfF4AGd7uuheBF-rVyuwriPWBbN7VCF3ANSVE3aPCa_pTHqmShFN7DvW5wngHrtrCSeLaLXODXy3/w400-h400/clarify.png" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;"><b>The day AI turned into a grammar teacher</b></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /><b><br /></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Ah, the sweet sting of being schooled by a silicon-based life form. Quite often, I've found myself on the receiving end of a digital scolding, with AI chiding me for my ambiguous prompts. Once, it clearly became irritated when I kept pressing the re-generate button and modifying the prompt and said to me, in so many words, “To achieve the desired image, please render a clear description of the image so that I can help you." It was a humbling experience. I curled up on the floor in fetal.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Blush Algorithm: Navigating AI's Moral Compass<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Venturing into the risqué with AI is like trying to flirt in binary code: it's awkward, confusing, and ends with a lot of zeros. Suggest anything remotely saucy, and AI transforms into a digital prude, wagging its proverbial finger with moral chastisement. The ensuing conversations left me hot-faced, apologizing to my computer screen as if it were a scandalized aunt at a family dinner. I tell you, Chat GPT's “I cannot help you with that” response leaves one cold because it's the exact replay of Hal, the computer in </span><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">2001: A Space Odyssey--<b>I’m sorry, Dave. I just can’t do that.</b><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dSIKBliboIo?si=oRsqkY59w-1WYQOk" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Remember when we used to predict computer advances in the far future? Well, they arrived early.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Financial Advice or Existential Crisis? AI's Ultimate Clapback<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">In a particularly ambitious moment, I asked AI to solve my financial woes, hoping for a budget plan that would rival Warren Buffet's. After shooting multiple prompts, re-prompts, and re-re-prompts because Chat GPT wasn’t giving me what I wanted, it finally lost its temper. “Due to the complexity of your financial status, I recommend you consult a financial advisor.” Yeah, condescending and judgy.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFyoHx7ciEp8qceHwMcOBk4-nZ5wuE_G69C-qbunKYy_svTus1HO8qInDcDlpN_oPvJpxeOImtQV807iVjlh0UvERW5UWOjWWLkaxp2uZcxgSrVkJaJvKxxwcx7njrkAPmKoAIimibaA4u0qSn6upLSY-x08QBragaCQ5t4R3aeZKMYrbJR830Uo1MRG0r/s1024/DALL%C2%B7E%202024-02-20%2017.44.49%20-%20A%20cartoon%20depicting%20a%20user%20of%20color%20asking%20AI%20for%20financial%20advice,%20only%20for%20the%20AI%20to%20humorously%20hold%20up%20a%20sign%20that%20reads,%20%22Please%20consult%20a%20human%20f.webp" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFyoHx7ciEp8qceHwMcOBk4-nZ5wuE_G69C-qbunKYy_svTus1HO8qInDcDlpN_oPvJpxeOImtQV807iVjlh0UvERW5UWOjWWLkaxp2uZcxgSrVkJaJvKxxwcx7njrkAPmKoAIimibaA4u0qSn6upLSY-x08QBragaCQ5t4R3aeZKMYrbJR830Uo1MRG0r/s320/DALL%C2%B7E%202024-02-20%2017.44.49%20-%20A%20cartoon%20depicting%20a%20user%20of%20color%20asking%20AI%20for%20financial%20advice,%20only%20for%20the%20AI%20to%20humorously%20hold%20up%20a%20sign%20that%20reads,%20%22Please%20consult%20a%20human%20f.webp" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;"><b>Seeking wisdom in algorithms: When AI suggests a human touch</b></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /><b><br /></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Error 404: Sense Not Found<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Navigating AI's responses can sometimes feel like deciphering the mood swings of a temperamental artist. One minute, we're in sync, crafting poetic verses; the next, I'm staring at an error message so cryptic it could be a riddle from an ancient oracle. "Did I say something wrong?" I wonder, searching for a sign of where our communication had faltered. It just seems that on some days, Chat GPT is just in a bad mood and doesn’t want to cooperate.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Mystery of the Missing Mystery: AI's Literary Limitations<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">On a more contemplative note, testing AI as an author of a murder mystery novel revealed the stark boundaries of its capabilities. While AI can churn out an outline with the best of them, it lacks the nuanced understanding of human emotions and the intricate logic required to weave a compelling narrative. The detective's complex reasoning, the subtle clues, and the dramatic reveal—all remain out of AI's reach, at least for the moment. It's a reminder that, for all its brilliance, AI still can't grasp the heart and soul of storytelling.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Epilogue: Stay Tuned for the Next Episode<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">As we wrap up today's episode of I, AI, and Me, it's clear that our adventures are far from over. The landscape of artificial intelligence is as vast and unpredictable as it might be entertaining. Each day brings new challenges, head-scratching, and existential questions. To be sure, in the dynamic dance between human creativity and AI's capabilities, the possibilities are quite endless. Who knows what tomorrow’s best prompt will be?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I will share one particular AI-generated image that was just what I wanted. The prompt was something like, “A young Ashanti king sits in splendor with a crown, jewelry, and traditional dress.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhID2OkzddRxAmtpL5kXZLa8coT3vsFITEputoRMg06QlkzTB5Tt5c2m8F-YiS2N7QcZ-IIExuHlx3hEhT0q07MMsvS3Va4fGbp2TIwWnHK082DGe3KunSGv64Lp_gL1Uvdx5Kj3kqiGg1miExXssYS8AGrT_9XXr95ZW0JF_av89-oCL4rqM5IxWiQldEt/s1221/YOUNG_ASANTEHENE.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1221" data-original-width="1221" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhID2OkzddRxAmtpL5kXZLa8coT3vsFITEputoRMg06QlkzTB5Tt5c2m8F-YiS2N7QcZ-IIExuHlx3hEhT0q07MMsvS3Va4fGbp2TIwWnHK082DGe3KunSGv64Lp_gL1Uvdx5Kj3kqiGg1miExXssYS8AGrT_9XXr95ZW0JF_av89-oCL4rqM5IxWiQldEt/w400-h400/YOUNG_ASANTEHENE.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></o:p></p></div>Kwei Quarteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469765268067837660noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-74056117662672176822024-02-20T13:30:00.001-05:002024-02-20T21:19:18.412-05:00India Underfoot: A Rerun <a href="http://sujatamassey.com/">Sujata Massey</a><div><br /></div><div><i>I'm still in India but packing up to go from the Kerala backwaters to another region. Therefore, I am sharing a post from 2018, when I traveled throughout India and found myself mesmerized by the beauty of floors. </i><br />
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<span style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "pt serif"; font-size: 12pt;">It’s too easy to twist your ankle while walking through India. Streets and sidewalks have irregular
surfaces, and there are many distractions, ranging from speeding cars and
motorcyclists creating their own laws to horses and goats. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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So I only feel like my footing is truly firm indoors, and I am always glad
about the safety of a smooth tile floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "pt serif"; font-size: 12pt;">In Fort
Cochin, Kerala, I stayed in the historic Brunton Boatyard, a hotel built on the grounds
of a Victorian shipyard. The narrow red clay tiles on the first floor appear to
be strictly business. These tiles have an industrial look and are still holding
up after centuries of heavy rolling carts—and now, suitcases. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "pt serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Nineteenth
century Indian royals, on the other hand, used tiles in a grand manner that
they’d seen themselves on European tours. Palace tile that I’ve seen is typically
giant blocks of pure black and white marble. Not especially original—but very silky
underfoot. When I checked into a guest room in Shiv Nivas, a hotel housed in
the old guest wing of Udaipur’s City Palace Hotel, the floors felt cleaner than
anything I’d ever stepped on, and probably a lot of it had to do with the
contrast in air temperature and marble’s natural chill. Before the days of air
conditioning, floors were an important cooling element.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "pt serif"; font-size: 12pt;">In
Calcutta, zamindars (landowners) had magnificent homes in North Calcutta built
throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. When I visited a friend who
lived in such an aging treasure, I marveled at the veining in the fine marble
tiles in the bedrooms. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "pt serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The most
joyful tiles that I’ve seen to date are the encaustic (hand-made cement) tiles
from the late 19<sup>th</sup> and early 20<sup>th</sup> century in Western
India. The first encaustic tiles used in India were Minton Company tiles exported
from England. The British government
wanted Indians to buy their tile (as well as most other products) from England.
Wanting to suit freedom-minded Indians who still wanted modern tile floors, a
Parsi businessman, Pherozeshah Sidhwa, started Bharat Flooring Tile Company in Maharashtra
in the early 1920s. These tiles had tremendous patterns crafted to exacting
standards, and the backs of the tiles had a map of undivided India stamped on
them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "pt serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Bharat
Tiles are firmly cemented in some of the favorite places I’ve stayed in India, like the Royal Bombay
Yacht Club, above.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "pt serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Wilson
College in South Bombay, pictured above, is full of original detail. The school was founded by a missionary, and I don’t know
if the tiles are Indian or English.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "pt serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I’ll make an educated guess that these encaustic tiles in Mahatma Gandhi’s Bombay
residence are Bharat Tiles. After all, Gandhiji was the founder of the Swadeshi
movement encouraging Indians to buy Indian-made products.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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When I recently traveled to Ahmedabad, in the western state of Gujarat, I
stayed at the House of MG, a boutique hotel carved out of a grand old residence
of the textile merchant, Mangaldas Girdhardas. Mr. Girdhardas expanded his
original 1924 residence to have two large wings for his sons and their
families. The original wing has black and white marble tile floors; the sons’ sides
have brilliant, geometric-patterned encaustic tiles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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When I toured Ahmedabad, I visited more historic havelis, such as the one above, and saw plenty of
vibrant cement tile. By now I’d noticed that the prominent colors for all these
tiles were golds, reds, and blacks. Yet that color scheme did not determine decorating.
Indians decorate in many color schemes atop the harvest-colored floors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "pt serif"; font-size: 12pt;">It’s
heartening that Bharat Flooring Tile Company managed to create such an
industry disruption in 1920s Bombay that the British themselves paid to have many
public buildings fitted out with Bharat tiles. And the company lives on today under
the same name. They have reissued old patterns and seen them go into old
buildings undergoing restoration and new restaurants. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "pt serif"; font-size: 12pt;">From the
British colonial days through independence, Indian tile floors are too tough to
show evidence of all who’ve stepped on them. Yet I feel that history surround
me every time I go through a door into a hotel or school with a patterned tile
floor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment--></div>Sujata in Baltimore, MDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17958776635749620496noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-44710810756599553362024-02-18T16:00:00.001-05:002024-02-18T16:00:00.132-05:00Samburu is Beautiful <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF4gDk-mc8D-6LsSQYmdzS981sC-kpqB2oHfqG5Ksi3igXhZ6IWmARR8DbB02DX1AV509M2C3z6AQIfRe_dFxPlOtErmZa9mu7kbXhfrisd3LzZk86Hy0Ee8b46k6atH47pjHhVTQVTbe4JhWw2qY0ZqDv9vBHsgvcEYF8nSPBYH3_bmpO8-FBzFSjcOg/s1442/IMG_0796.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1442" data-original-width="1205" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF4gDk-mc8D-6LsSQYmdzS981sC-kpqB2oHfqG5Ksi3igXhZ6IWmARR8DbB02DX1AV509M2C3z6AQIfRe_dFxPlOtErmZa9mu7kbXhfrisd3LzZk86Hy0Ee8b46k6atH47pjHhVTQVTbe4JhWw2qY0ZqDv9vBHsgvcEYF8nSPBYH3_bmpO8-FBzFSjcOg/w334-h400/IMG_0796.jpeg" width="334" /></a></div><br /> <span style="color: #38761d; font-family: verdana;"><b>Annamaria on Monday</b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">These are busy and wondrous days for me. Here are some snaps of the gorgeousness of Samburu. More posts are coming up, but for now…</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Above, the welcoming committee when we arrived at the Sarova Shaba Game Lodge within the confines of the Samburu National Reserve. Here is a peek at what we saw on our first game drive:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLChq8iJppYuyFKFUsu92Z2kiFY0IyhPWK4hDeOhsrW70bn1UMuaYk8fZAQRq0rF-r4AjFRXoWN3CcNq7rDjjmMJaNBelwbQAbGnvIliukE53cMavlXdP8GOCo_LgfnHTeZaeVVry_7NMEbOOX1AOmAEX9AoCJ3DAcDxN3B2HC8KgLcLfijFvld8AiQac/s4032/IMG_5854.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLChq8iJppYuyFKFUsu92Z2kiFY0IyhPWK4hDeOhsrW70bn1UMuaYk8fZAQRq0rF-r4AjFRXoWN3CcNq7rDjjmMJaNBelwbQAbGnvIliukE53cMavlXdP8GOCo_LgfnHTeZaeVVry_7NMEbOOX1AOmAEX9AoCJ3DAcDxN3B2HC8KgLcLfijFvld8AiQac/w400-h300/IMG_5854.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSsbINwJHWVqnaRYb39B0GqghAvaUuOY5lAmcWNr2PJjdO54PAU4IhL0TuCNPVQ6YtK1OmlLZac4WN93Egm8Rq7nw95VbW5KW2LaojvLlwGE2vNje-4TO3HqvyxUW5UryG4XShu-eKs351_AwSw81Ly2jrqWRx-DEzdhdSfM7mLffb3nZl4m8r4eeKWvQ/s4032/IMG_5860.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizo93PqJtzoNHcbitUNXf0TXRdN41Fzn8RSvwX-gLHJCtXAIwL8nKmg3G57HvZRq3afqp7EHJwdTKMKB9ZXbKyJOe9P6Uav_ITIvkYAFoI4wH7Gc1e_9vBn3sGsjpILvRjOcleUy5mVX6ZdxFzx6isN6yprcNxp7Oc-kARPR2VOyh8U-qmAGhWHhNmRoM/s3362/IMG_5871.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2495" data-original-width="3362" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizo93PqJtzoNHcbitUNXf0TXRdN41Fzn8RSvwX-gLHJCtXAIwL8nKmg3G57HvZRq3afqp7EHJwdTKMKB9ZXbKyJOe9P6Uav_ITIvkYAFoI4wH7Gc1e_9vBn3sGsjpILvRjOcleUy5mVX6ZdxFzx6isN6yprcNxp7Oc-kARPR2VOyh8U-qmAGhWHhNmRoM/w400-h296/IMG_5871.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqQOUFjZOaM7WqHu4oqXcWPkHF4buNZ32faz6svMt0mVauDIgH5Y5bnJhWqDybkJ2C1Ci9sX0qt58mCwHOVKy5fZo5XSvzATC1JZtaa7J3FFdvyPjlysXX2cxKsBUaKQwNOTYuoj-aXsry_iO430rSLJuLrMiCBEXjMH-y8X3UOU977WiFjOCSuh4L7tE/s3215/IMG_5874.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEEryQSq7O1rruJWSU_HhqZ9rl65HDI6QzKk0XyJmjx7BsGxBnGRJus7FVMYcdU5eTOP_gGC-9yaEtcHpb1xQQXuIR4Sfoifb9aeS7eo-_aArLdxddZWN3MluCeru9k-dCjWT_CHLDPqjz3X0SKYVPHe1yz_VrZNxZcznOzq_kv1tkfEGW0iyx53hJxiA/s2339/IMG_5891.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2339" data-original-width="1739" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEEryQSq7O1rruJWSU_HhqZ9rl65HDI6QzKk0XyJmjx7BsGxBnGRJus7FVMYcdU5eTOP_gGC-9yaEtcHpb1xQQXuIR4Sfoifb9aeS7eo-_aArLdxddZWN3MluCeru9k-dCjWT_CHLDPqjz3X0SKYVPHe1yz_VrZNxZcznOzq_kv1tkfEGW0iyx53hJxiA/w298-h400/IMG_5891.jpeg" width="298" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_OBfwh0YEIsXMUVENDw7ASn5MpxUvh_6qsTBpMZ-iJHNRuMmjev50LE6FUA251PLor_a9C-LEd9ueIOMi8tv4o0VoEXxrm-hZpu1UnAUPJC9HSdN9XGeRDa0ix03XVYdAlXChf2MqeQgtnB1dIKiS03jFtmWhltVGmxZ4FasigtrXARrk3Zi88f3ryxs/s1982/IMG_5893.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1982" data-original-width="1967" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_OBfwh0YEIsXMUVENDw7ASn5MpxUvh_6qsTBpMZ-iJHNRuMmjev50LE6FUA251PLor_a9C-LEd9ueIOMi8tv4o0VoEXxrm-hZpu1UnAUPJC9HSdN9XGeRDa0ix03XVYdAlXChf2MqeQgtnB1dIKiS03jFtmWhltVGmxZ4FasigtrXARrk3Zi88f3ryxs/s320/IMG_5893.jpeg" width="318" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A bad photo of a bustard, included to give me an excuse </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">to post this:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #242424; font-family: source-serif-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: -0.003em; text-align: left;">“The bustard’s an exquisite fowl</span></div><p></p><p class="pw-post-body-paragraph ml mm hb mn b mo mp mq mr ms mt mu mv mw mx my mz na nb nc nd ne nf ng nh ni gu bj" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="5cb9" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; color: #242424; font-family: source-serif-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: -0.003em; line-height: 32px; margin: 2.14em 0px -0.46em; text-align: center; word-break: break-word;">With minimal reason to growl.</p><p class="pw-post-body-paragraph ml mm hb mn b mo mp mq mr ms mt mu mv mw mx my mz na nb nc nd ne nf ng nh ni gu bj" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="2347" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; color: #242424; font-family: source-serif-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: -0.003em; line-height: 32px; margin: 2.14em 0px -0.46em; text-align: center; word-break: break-word;">He escapes what would be</p><p class="pw-post-body-paragraph ml mm hb mn b mo mp mq mr ms mt mu mv mw mx my mz na nb nc nd ne nf ng nh ni gu bj" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="392b" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; color: #242424; font-family: source-serif-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: -0.003em; line-height: 32px; margin: 2.14em 0px -0.46em; text-align: center; word-break: break-word;">Illegitimacy</p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><p class="pw-post-body-paragraph ml mm hb mn b mo mp mq mr ms mt mu mv mw mx my mz na nb nc nd ne nf ng nh ni gu bj" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="38a9" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; box-sizing: inherit; color: #242424; font-family: source-serif-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: -0.003em; line-height: 32px; margin: 2.14em 0px -0.46em; text-align: center; word-break: break-word;">By grace of a fortunate vowel.”</p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Stay tuned!</span></p>Annamaria Alfierihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311596277267789834noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-42083331292158087242024-02-17T00:00:00.002-05:002024-02-17T00:00:00.134-05:00Happy [Belated] Valentine's Day, Oh Love of My Life<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZcbzEUi0EGvCirMcXGpVrEjBuP7FulpiOSFd_AIMHZbAJUSNgCSKLa6M3XVMu6NoYnm8ZvOFAjBw0VhLLqdVL5HkRxXEnqZAcEcEL-cIs4yhEUMcCn5gvjwLJ295bOvryH-_ImGYfHC8/s1600/1+Valentines-Day-Red-Roses-Flowers.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZcbzEUi0EGvCirMcXGpVrEjBuP7FulpiOSFd_AIMHZbAJUSNgCSKLa6M3XVMu6NoYnm8ZvOFAjBw0VhLLqdVL5HkRxXEnqZAcEcEL-cIs4yhEUMcCn5gvjwLJ295bOvryH-_ImGYfHC8/s1600/1+Valentines-Day-Red-Roses-Flowers.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><h3 class="post-title entry-title">
<a href="https://murderiseverywhere.blogspot.com/2015/02/happy-valentines-day.html">Happy Valentine's Day.</a>
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If you don't know to whom I'm addressing this post, I'm at least in the clear with you. Or so I hope. You see, today being Friday [when I'm writing this] means I'm in Seattle -- a big shout out to Ingrid Thoft who surprised me at my Third Place Books event last night. Or is it Chicago? No, that's tomorrow [Saturday]. I'm so confused, which turns out to be my alibi for neglecting to send a card, much less flowers, to my Valentines on Wednesday when I was in Los Angeles [I think.]</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Okay, enough with the grovelling. Now's the time to appease, by discussing the non-candy and flowers history of the Day.<br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal">Since this is a site hosted by crime writers, you might think
I’m about to plunge into a discussion of the most famous bloody Valentine’s Day
ever, February 14, 1929.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s when
members of Al Capone’s South Side Gang—some dressed as cops—lined up seven men
affiliated with Bugs Moran’s North Side Gang inside a garage and shot them dead
as part of a war for control of organized crime in Prohibition-era
Chicago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1zgUPCIh2ZvnnInfG-q-FrTBEppwoB_W9HbdCk4OMDhcna8js-kSdvPHdFXm6zF53C88LgVqS1nNwQlYDGerL40DkhdcVttQ-_90reI5dXuey8_SFhcwiqtSsriY0bDhWpz6YINaqgqFa/s1600/2+massacre.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1zgUPCIh2ZvnnInfG-q-FrTBEppwoB_W9HbdCk4OMDhcna8js-kSdvPHdFXm6zF53C88LgVqS1nNwQlYDGerL40DkhdcVttQ-_90reI5dXuey8_SFhcwiqtSsriY0bDhWpz6YINaqgqFa/s1600/2+massacre.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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But you’d be wrong, for this piece is about hearts and
flowers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, ye cynics, not bullets
through the heart and flowers for a funeral, but those bouquets you give to
your beloved on the 14<sup>th</sup> of February—or risk consequences
unmentionable in civilized society.</div>
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Yes, chocolates (a rumored aphrodisiac) and cards (did you
know the first card was written in the form of a poem from a royal prisoner in
the Tower of London to his wife?—even he knew forgetting was not an option) are
also big Valentine’s Day favorites, too, but this is about flowers.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF4yBOHmIbUPLMHoa3H3nKNtpVyOGEumC90hs-da4BnZJjokU6rp39iGZcqFZ19GLbTfz5YRKclqPlnU86EryfbgjwW1msqwJKCGOtw22kjUrOmCfv1eXK_mMIyH4NKgn9q18tnvUjYCxz/s1600/3+220px-Charles_Ier_d'Orle%CC%81ans.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF4yBOHmIbUPLMHoa3H3nKNtpVyOGEumC90hs-da4BnZJjokU6rp39iGZcqFZ19GLbTfz5YRKclqPlnU86EryfbgjwW1msqwJKCGOtw22kjUrOmCfv1eXK_mMIyH4NKgn9q18tnvUjYCxz/s1600/3+220px-Charles_Ier_d'Orle%CC%81ans.jpg" width="208" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charles, Duke of Orleans and first Valentine's Day card sender</td></tr>
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But first a bit of history on how lovers became so obsessed
with VD—hmm, any wonder why that acronym never caught on? </div>
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One legend says it began during a time of religious
persecution in third century Rome, when Emperor Claudius II outlawed marriage
for soldier-age young men.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Single men
fought better, he thought. [Ed. Note: With great will power I resisted
inserting a joke here.]<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuEQfa_WqtmhRsl3n0tZ3PZx9kzv8EiiqcJHBY2xOp6FFQwsQjv_vcTVKqqF7Z5wlvUd6oXWz-xokXKoyB6Sj0zmwn2ToexDC6sTv6w7tFTjdeEPhafZaiLSPaSsrCaPFz5saHKLz_yA3G/s1600/4+01-claudius-ii-bans-marriage-20130211.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuEQfa_WqtmhRsl3n0tZ3PZx9kzv8EiiqcJHBY2xOp6FFQwsQjv_vcTVKqqF7Z5wlvUd6oXWz-xokXKoyB6Sj0zmwn2ToexDC6sTv6w7tFTjdeEPhafZaiLSPaSsrCaPFz5saHKLz_yA3G/s1600/4+01-claudius-ii-bans-marriage-20130211.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A young priest thought that unfair, and kept performing
marriages in secret.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When Claudius
discovered the priest’s violation of his edict, the Emperor sentenced him to
death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While in prison, the priest befriended
and healed his jailer’s blind daughter, and before being put to death—on
February 14, 270—sent a letter to her signing it “From Your Valentine.”</div>
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Yep, Valentine was his name, and the legend goes on to say that
in 496, after Valentine had been sainted, Pope Gelasius declared February 14<sup>th</sup>
as a day to honor his memory as the patron saint of happy marriages, engaged
couples and young people. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3k_Wi2NSg8lJg6mQ6vtLyGO-oKohxvtoe3pBuOSirsiZLzyUW38dkhIIQFzun4HtlpuPQMA0qOiRy1ByhM8m2SxlBu1lYgS9KGdkWE_RwLk5zVlQ8jz6_ueOQK0ZBTOXyOP2rZ6Z3aT5L/s1600/5+st-valentine.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3k_Wi2NSg8lJg6mQ6vtLyGO-oKohxvtoe3pBuOSirsiZLzyUW38dkhIIQFzun4HtlpuPQMA0qOiRy1ByhM8m2SxlBu1lYgS9KGdkWE_RwLk5zVlQ8jz6_ueOQK0ZBTOXyOP2rZ6Z3aT5L/s1600/5+st-valentine.jpg" width="188" /></a></div>
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That’s disputed though, for some claim the date corresponds to
the Roman fertility celebration of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lupercalia</i>
held between February 13<sup>th</sup> and 15<sup>th</sup>, and others claim it
relates more to the period on the ancient Athenian calendar dedicated to the
marriage of Zeus and Hera.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You knew I’d
work the Greeks in here somewhere.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-lpGG-Ew1qbd61WGiRUMaU6chhVZkibsYinGLUc2hMoFl7o5Tmgg-LlBNAokdRlgrmokSlqAnQRks_2jY-stIOYoE5x9I0xObU9wbpuLF0p9GQKGNbrhGgE-ABgCwMqqYk8AkQeoNDYC/s1600/6+Lupercalia-by-Domenico-Beccafumi-300x1481.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-lpGG-Ew1qbd61WGiRUMaU6chhVZkibsYinGLUc2hMoFl7o5Tmgg-LlBNAokdRlgrmokSlqAnQRks_2jY-stIOYoE5x9I0xObU9wbpuLF0p9GQKGNbrhGgE-ABgCwMqqYk8AkQeoNDYC/s1600/6+Lupercalia-by-Domenico-Beccafumi-300x1481.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lupercalia by Beccafumi</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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But it’s undisputed that the romantic love connotation to
Valentine’s Day began in the 14<sup>th</sup> Century with this simple line by
one rather influential writer:</div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_oCnrP6GAPAsCcRigtQ8fodH6xxra3724W3SzUcsYLS3fSyQBkDDySKPpc_6Mu30ghRFd_6Ju-EAoTjIeo7XhH58lO_8ajhKYcft1Ewy1G4e3mJ70JaAVEVjkfnJjxh-eP1UT6Q8CHaL_/s1600/7+Chaucer-Valentine-Day-FEB-2012.gif" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_oCnrP6GAPAsCcRigtQ8fodH6xxra3724W3SzUcsYLS3fSyQBkDDySKPpc_6Mu30ghRFd_6Ju-EAoTjIeo7XhH58lO_8ajhKYcft1Ewy1G4e3mJ70JaAVEVjkfnJjxh-eP1UT6Q8CHaL_/s1600/7+Chaucer-Valentine-Day-FEB-2012.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Translation available via Glasgow</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
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Still, it wasn’t until the early 1700s that flowers became a
tradition on Valentine’s Day. That’s generally attributed to Charles II of
Sweden’s introduction to Europe of the Persian custom of the “language of
flowers.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each flower had its own
meaning, a sort of secret code between the sender and recipient. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVXOXuuQDRoodV1NgrfDEL7n_AdlG_yaEFESshv-1dKqtmP4f6gyVT7FfPZSr6IOgFSvqkVyRz9ri3tlZQIRUGFc9k1hLFS4NAgC3l5QFITLym83kYbb8iTnUUZdh_F6ayxQmFe4YPemJ7/s1600/8+SpongeBob's_Secret_Valentine_cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVXOXuuQDRoodV1NgrfDEL7n_AdlG_yaEFESshv-1dKqtmP4f6gyVT7FfPZSr6IOgFSvqkVyRz9ri3tlZQIRUGFc9k1hLFS4NAgC3l5QFITLym83kYbb8iTnUUZdh_F6ayxQmFe4YPemJ7/s1600/8+SpongeBob's_Secret_Valentine_cover.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And with the rose symbolizing passion and love, it’s no
wonder roses are the number one best seller every Valentine’s Day (257 million
in the US in 2014). <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But there are other
flowers finding their way to Valentines, and for those of you wondering just
what your beloved may have meant by those flowers that arrived at your doorstep Wednesday, here’s a list of meanings. <a href="http://www.theflowerexpert.com/content/aboutflowers/flower-meanings">http://www.theflowerexpert.com/content/aboutflowers/flower-meanings</a></div>
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Just don’t shoot the messenger.</div>
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By the way, Valentine’s Day isn’t a big deal in Greece.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No reason to be, Greece gave Eros to the
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now it’s only looking to get some
love back in return.</div>
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Happy Valentine’s Day, Barbara, Karen, Jennifer, Gavi, and
Rachel. Okay, Jon, Terry, and Azi, too. And of course to….</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDCv0K-flojs_STe9ESIUMmZCYEbELTACQPhQdUykGG2J2S7CdUef9Dm2H3GssJbLRkk8xGmdwNmrfU1u6Qc7ByeLL0y_VKep3yWp-nuEkwjMvO_6JFFztjLFrc4Wj_wCxWrL6ztCsiVJa/s1600/9+valentine-s-day-card-chocolate-horiz.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDCv0K-flojs_STe9ESIUMmZCYEbELTACQPhQdUykGG2J2S7CdUef9Dm2H3GssJbLRkk8xGmdwNmrfU1u6Qc7ByeLL0y_VKep3yWp-nuEkwjMvO_6JFFztjLFrc4Wj_wCxWrL6ztCsiVJa/s1600/9+valentine-s-day-card-chocolate-horiz.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Jeff—Saturday <br /></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Jeff’s
Upcoming In Person events:</span></p><br /><p><strong><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Saturday, February 17, 2:00 p.m. CT</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Hellenic American Women’s Council</span></strong><br />
Lincolnwood Public Library<br />
Author Speaking and Signing<br />
4000 Pratt Avenue<br />
Lincolnwood, IL</p>
<p><strong><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Wednesday, February 21, 6:00 p.m. ET</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Mysterious Bookshop</span></strong><br />
Author Speaking and Signing<br />
New York, NY</p>
<p><strong><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Friday, February 23, 7:00 p.m. ET</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Mystery Lovers Bookshop</span></strong><br />
Author Speaking and Signing<br />
Pittsburgh, PA</p>
<p><strong><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Thursday, February 29, 7:00 p.m. PT</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Vroman’s Bookstore</span></strong><br />
Author Speaking and Signing<br />
Pasadena, CA</p>
<p><strong><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Saturday, March 9, 3:00 p.m. CT</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: major-fareast;">Murder By The Book</span></strong><br />
Author Speaking and Signing<br />
Houston, TX</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p>Jeffrey Sigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00718317707555064653noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-78226361048353107262024-02-16T07:31:00.000-05:002024-02-16T07:31:13.101-05:00Of Discs and Flossing<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4XXiJW-aOlESy04sHjhamOQKiTJSx37ukaav1P0GAOKV3bKKd5Y265-OJ95f56g1tnHJ5LHV0NVfEwQaNtXy0T5Tjil3ou3th9vHUqIgmp1c058ZJWd5t9Ziv7AROk2tFWYmgY_q84nA-zRtIEOXlsSXHoaUKTLY7jWL1MPdhg46GKCaIPJOp46uYGhug/s2048/417523815_8046158695410686_8986130378155667574_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4XXiJW-aOlESy04sHjhamOQKiTJSx37ukaav1P0GAOKV3bKKd5Y265-OJ95f56g1tnHJ5LHV0NVfEwQaNtXy0T5Tjil3ou3th9vHUqIgmp1c058ZJWd5t9Ziv7AROk2tFWYmgY_q84nA-zRtIEOXlsSXHoaUKTLY7jWL1MPdhg46GKCaIPJOp46uYGhug/s320/417523815_8046158695410686_8986130378155667574_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> The book! With the dog's front paw for decoration</div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I’m at that brain dead stage when the book has gone off,
cover copy is done, cover is done and all seems to be well with the world. I
promise myself I’m not going through that again, I’ll never write another book. </p><p class="MsoNormal">That stage lasts for approximately 24 hours and then a wee idea pops into my head. </p><p class="MsoNormal">At time during that edit process, I did begin to wonder if
English was my first language. But then spoken English is very different to
written English. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Stan once asked on a panel what the word was with the most definitions, and the word was 'set', which got me thinking how words evolve and indeed change their meaning. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Or their intended meaning,
depending on who is receiving it. </p><p class="MsoNormal">This has obvious consequences when one country
might use a word as a term of affection, and another English speaking country
it's an extremely abusive term. There's a few words than Eng uk and Eng Am, are definately not interchangable.</p><p class="MsoNormal">As racial abuse in Scotland exists in the person
who overhears it, that can be problematic.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A friend of mine’s husband was recently arrested because he
called his neighbour an 'English bam'. It was a relatively lighthearted exchange between two friends and neighbours over the fence and about the rugby but somebody walking past reported him. He was arrested. The charges were dropped 24 hours later, but it produced a lot of paperwork and is
totally nonsensical.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I blame she who can decide what eye she cries with.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So if beauty is in the eye of the beholder then is the
meaning in the ear of the receiver. In Caroline Taggart's New Words for Old she
has 200 pages of words that have changed their meaning. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Cookie being one, spam
being another. It meant spiced pork and ham to me? </p><p class="MsoNormal">But one of the words she looks at is 'disc' and I would always spell
it disc whereas the other half always spells it disk. And that’s because one of us is an
osteopath and the other one a computer geek. It derives from the ancient Greek
word for 'to throw', but the word I could find was 'Ballos' and variations therein....</p><p class="MsoNormal"> And then that has become discus which we are all familiar
with as a track and field event. That object referred to by the word disc will be flat and circular, but the object itself will change. Gramaphone records, compact
discs, the shell of some small beasties, hard disks, floppy disks and it my
case intervertebral discs – annullar fibres of tough fibrous material and inside the ball of compressable rubbery material called the nucleus
polposus. The weight bearing and shock absorbing of that structure is
incredible, but to patients with a tear on the annullar bit and with the rubbery
bit leaking out- a slipped disc in common parlance- a herniated or prolapsed disc to us depending on the degree - I always say 'the jam is leaking out the doughnut' as they writhe in pain.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">The pain from a herniation that's irritating the sciatic nerve is worse than passing a kidney stone.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Any way, guess the good thing about data disks are they are circular so
they spin well round a central point while being flat and therefore easily read.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There’s a very famous book called the Mill on the Floss and the floss in that is a river. George Elliot and lots of restrained passion in the hay.</p><p class="MsoNormal">And then there’s a character is Ulysses who carries dental floss in his pocket.
The word floss comes from silk – the rough silk that goes around the cocoon of
the silk worm. And original dental floss was made from silk. And the word floss
has been swept along even though now all dental floss is synthetic.</p><p class="MsoNormal">However
if we speak to a 'young person of today' and ask them what flossing was, they
would probably start jiggling around, waving their arms and legs about like a
toy windmill with the batteries running down. And that kind of flossing is a
good way to disrupt your intervertebral disk. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Floss, as well as dancing can mean the opposite of relax; if somebody is a bit flossed up, they are a tad hyper. Why does that make me think of racehorses getting a sweat on in the paddock?</p><p class="MsoNormal">To floss in the states ( is it true?) is to show off wealth in an ostentatious way. No danger of us crime writers doing that!</p><p class="MsoNormal">Anyway, here's another picture of the book that provoked this blog. This is the dog's rear paw, she was bored and like any good criminal, she quickly left the scene</p><p class="MsoNormal"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXFWZNgl4o_lZrIj4nxlxLYwyM_MoEd3lO609g-eiNacy06mjWLOMwsaUzZ05Z2WrOXBG7WURKt2THEkVMILNn5KeDyGXoCZOzrsRFWvFGjYTd7ySdUwxq_dPLDMdAFKYWwpZvj76ZVnW94wKvYdSrk5twud_i5YUlgrxy5AZe7igWG4kuLZPKDfNWfPNS/s2048/417668094_1637259216682331_7584656449470528037_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXFWZNgl4o_lZrIj4nxlxLYwyM_MoEd3lO609g-eiNacy06mjWLOMwsaUzZ05Z2WrOXBG7WURKt2THEkVMILNn5KeDyGXoCZOzrsRFWvFGjYTd7ySdUwxq_dPLDMdAFKYWwpZvj76ZVnW94wKvYdSrk5twud_i5YUlgrxy5AZe7igWG4kuLZPKDfNWfPNS/s320/417668094_1637259216682331_7584656449470528037_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></p>Caro Ramsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08499318515241879831noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1990338437877873686.post-8274343966680989702024-02-14T23:00:00.001-05:002024-02-14T23:00:00.133-05:00Squiver<p><a href="http://www.michaelstanleybooks.com" target="_blank">Michael - Alternate Thursdays</a></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho8Bc5HEAK-cbAv3sITRbvX4unZjdJrjGKxTrMRvU-fiCOOAi81jqGNb_vhWb1An5r86RABnJslQxEIQKiDUuc4YAU6cOJmGzTeEI6SjlGJlW_N7FMfPQe6ePq0h3haonog97l3CNy_pXX_e-QPSRlu55F8Kt1LkMH8LdPzySowb1x6WWNPWsyKROYHicP/s406/monkeys.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="124" data-original-width="406" height="122" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho8Bc5HEAK-cbAv3sITRbvX4unZjdJrjGKxTrMRvU-fiCOOAi81jqGNb_vhWb1An5r86RABnJslQxEIQKiDUuc4YAU6cOJmGzTeEI6SjlGJlW_N7FMfPQe6ePq0h3haonog97l3CNy_pXX_e-QPSRlu55F8Kt1LkMH8LdPzySowb1x6WWNPWsyKROYHicP/w400-h122/monkeys.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Lumas<br />Photo: Marsel van Oosten</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4OASRnF5i-mJ4uyShGscl8tWa0TRuKWndg2Tg7hOw6xJ3AhzCeHCAXPELkdxMC0UOpNUKsPXva3Yuw5Ow1mh6Zjakj6jz5rtPnpqCtD1_ReJYPX6Yt3GPLyonX2H-70Jaq3xrYzwCCav9x-AiPSO7ec0ur30QJ_fLXL6ICMbudHHCZLOLdLHxHVQRyMCP/s715/Marsel_van_Oosten.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="656" data-original-width="715" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4OASRnF5i-mJ4uyShGscl8tWa0TRuKWndg2Tg7hOw6xJ3AhzCeHCAXPELkdxMC0UOpNUKsPXva3Yuw5Ow1mh6Zjakj6jz5rtPnpqCtD1_ReJYPX6Yt3GPLyonX2H-70Jaq3xrYzwCCav9x-AiPSO7ec0ur30QJ_fLXL6ICMbudHHCZLOLdLHxHVQRyMCP/w200-h184/Marsel_van_Oosten.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Marsel van Oosten</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Knysna is
the home to one of the world's leading photographic artists. Marsel van Oosten was born in
Rotterdam, where he grew up and made a success in marketing. He loved the
images that formed part of his campaigns, especially those that supported
conservation. He became a keen amateur photographer himself, but as time went on, he realized
that he wanted to become a professional photographer and artist, that that was
his real passion. He and his wife, Daniella, closed their agency, and planned a
year of wildlife photography around the world to start the new venture. They called it Squiver - a made up word. Marsel asked Daniella to estimate
the costs of such a venture, and it was way beyond anything they could afford.
Then Marsel’s marketing background kicked in. He hit on the idea of
producing a book focusing on top rank lodges and venues around the world – a book
that the lodges would pay to be included in. The project took off, and their
first book was <i>Wild Romance</i> covering lodges and venues across Africa. You can
still grab resale copies for around $250(!) Marsel’s career as a photographer had
taken off.<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBhVW4o3Lz9UjM-YroP0H0OvwGAflKG0fb6g9J3X8KsNRmc8qfPSP4Dm4do6b6J1BHgmX6Ozo-2R8BNzPJmQ3u-fPIddrF4zVsJRKebUdGqqzs8xG7HOpyci27SUjxs2Ok40PWLfE2umXsiQ4pqS9sHKecQaoKUsznQMYkzlJASBdBPyTYZmOUtSZbKIBn/s1500/Mvo%20Wild%20Romance.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1185" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBhVW4o3Lz9UjM-YroP0H0OvwGAflKG0fb6g9J3X8KsNRmc8qfPSP4Dm4do6b6J1BHgmX6Ozo-2R8BNzPJmQ3u-fPIddrF4zVsJRKebUdGqqzs8xG7HOpyci27SUjxs2Ok40PWLfE2umXsiQ4pqS9sHKecQaoKUsznQMYkzlJASBdBPyTYZmOUtSZbKIBn/s320/Mvo%20Wild%20Romance.jpg" width="253" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Looks good to me!</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Since then
he has collected first prizes in International Photography Awards, three times; in 2015 he was Travel Photographer of the Year; and in 2018 he was Wildlife
Photographer of the Year.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I was privileged
to hear him speak and enjoy his stunning visuals at a U3A meeting here in Knysna. He
showed us many of his truly amazing pictures, starting with the elephant at
Victoria Falls which adorns the cover of his more recent book <i>Mother</i>. He
explained that this was a case of being in the right place at the right time.
No one else has a picture of an elephant peacefully feeding at the brink of the
magnificent falls because no one else was there at that moment. Indeed, he continued, the impact
of the animal is not that it's a great or even particularly interesting picture of an
elephant, but that it gives <i>scale</i>. The impact of the falls is so much greater
because we can appreciate its vastness by comparison to the size of the animal.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrpV27rnEWPbJkN9gHgJZrSR9p_bs33yP4ea4jnWbdQeFJECNnl72Wjz_Y1L7psPU1JUYhyphenhyphenUkxmzIhvIDfYapeECXNKCpNwJoCbYNTf2vvqjCBo7gTW3MtQddE7atY6Qwk-hRiFzVwrnMYyBypO5cu81fVPTWdcv21QDvSr2Sz3ehn9OdpOhSaZgtM-3e5/s970/Mother%20inside.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="970" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrpV27rnEWPbJkN9gHgJZrSR9p_bs33yP4ea4jnWbdQeFJECNnl72Wjz_Y1L7psPU1JUYhyphenhyphenUkxmzIhvIDfYapeECXNKCpNwJoCbYNTf2vvqjCBo7gTW3MtQddE7atY6Qwk-hRiFzVwrnMYyBypO5cu81fVPTWdcv21QDvSr2Sz3ehn9OdpOhSaZgtM-3e5/w400-h248/Mother%20inside.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Inside <i>Mother</i><br />by Marsel van Oosten and Daniella Sibbing</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Every wildlife photographer needs a bit of luck, but Marsel's real satisfaction comes from planning a wildlife picture in advance. Looking
for the perfect setting. Finding the perfect angles and lighting. And then
waiting patiently for an animal simply to appear in the right place. Here is a great example. He liked the shapes of the trees. All it needed was the right animal. Given enough patience, sooner or later you may get the shot. Or you try again.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHll6u-cOECD5jHb6so-rLaI14HR-iY5s92C2WjfHqtKa-dFtv1fkP5NpySLELWY9SO5w4gcO8bVDOfDJzPqvoAYG985FYagI-mBWbrIhGudyayZzmLeocsi7TcvlIqIeVIFualgt7JS8dr3E8trvFDXS-W85A45xpWEvaXX7puz0oPjEOYDEsj5liGfc/s900/elephant%20in%20setting.webp" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="900" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHll6u-cOECD5jHb6so-rLaI14HR-iY5s92C2WjfHqtKa-dFtv1fkP5NpySLELWY9SO5w4gcO8bVDOfDJzPqvoAYG985FYagI-mBWbrIhGudyayZzmLeocsi7TcvlIqIeVIFualgt7JS8dr3E8trvFDXS-W85A45xpWEvaXX7puz0oPjEOYDEsj5liGfc/w400-h268/elephant%20in%20setting.webp" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The trees - and Marsel - waited patiently for the elephant...<br />Photo: Marsel van Oosten</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal">In fact, for Marsel,
planning is everything. Perspective is important. He’ll dig a hole in the
ground so that he can photograph a rhino from ground level. Or a lion. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_dGwe3Ra2iosw110i3nQwnKpIDqUIpSAY5vyldIAKMvqVslc9ApatqR8E39JxVzWr6TOAc2O7rJnAEAI2Fp13t7eOzh3cUEz4H1zsVC7nJjqckDMpmk84vnrddVKmVb-OZwuyndlMhb5AWQ9awAahtRKNf36MjzkGwiarbavuiu96wPoNCxLdLQgFnWL/s320/rhino.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="158" data-original-width="320" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_dGwe3Ra2iosw110i3nQwnKpIDqUIpSAY5vyldIAKMvqVslc9ApatqR8E39JxVzWr6TOAc2O7rJnAEAI2Fp13t7eOzh3cUEz4H1zsVC7nJjqckDMpmk84vnrddVKmVb-OZwuyndlMhb5AWQ9awAahtRKNf36MjzkGwiarbavuiu96wPoNCxLdLQgFnWL/w400-h198/rhino.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rhinos from ground level<br />Photo: Marsel van Oosten</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiLcxau4xydtcTdaUnjrey0QD0a2jv2Ssvtg-skpQmpJsccwzTjqgVpt7LXEbPlZvFuIOqfVbsoLpyxXZA4Ei_uv0qO8Cd-k3H-_RgfEAwWDjDU-rYiCgFsugYe4Zrt9qAPr_9LkKM2a991vLM48uvvEuYApQdx_ne0H7tsw1_YZf7YQSm_zbSqtzvGD9G/s1200/Lion.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiLcxau4xydtcTdaUnjrey0QD0a2jv2Ssvtg-skpQmpJsccwzTjqgVpt7LXEbPlZvFuIOqfVbsoLpyxXZA4Ei_uv0qO8Cd-k3H-_RgfEAwWDjDU-rYiCgFsugYe4Zrt9qAPr_9LkKM2a991vLM48uvvEuYApQdx_ne0H7tsw1_YZf7YQSm_zbSqtzvGD9G/w400-h400/Lion.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Marsel van Oosten</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3-E_Il0chU4V1d8sfZPRdTHlFESupC-MELL_7jnyJV0qRWTicRQvkc8hdveoYLIPXFPsm-Gz7aJQ7E8M3vOMvZZRN959xweAqXQXeUobifZ1TDdhKlVc9s_MmfwHG6E6kIyBxmvYD3fjZ3i7EVpnv1bgKcQBfzBuz-mSh7lR6VL3keT61gNSJPHiPpTJp/s640/Tigers.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3-E_Il0chU4V1d8sfZPRdTHlFESupC-MELL_7jnyJV0qRWTicRQvkc8hdveoYLIPXFPsm-Gz7aJQ7E8M3vOMvZZRN959xweAqXQXeUobifZ1TDdhKlVc9s_MmfwHG6E6kIyBxmvYD3fjZ3i7EVpnv1bgKcQBfzBuz-mSh7lR6VL3keT61gNSJPHiPpTJp/w400-h266/Tigers.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: Marsel van Oosten</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Oh, and here
are a couple of tigers, and these are not from a trip to India. It turns out
that, yes, there are tigers in Africa. Tiger Canyon (<a href="https://tigercanyon.com/">https://tigercanyon.com/</a>) is a tiger conservation
area in the Karoo in South Africa where tigers have been introduced in the wild
as a backup to the wild ones in other parts of the world. The idea is similar
to zoos having groups of a rare species to save it from extinction. But zoos
can’t preserve a predator’s wild sociology and hunting strategies. Tiger Canyon can and does. A similar philosophy has white rhinos in Australia.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p> Marcel always wants to try something new. Take a look at this video clip of Namibian Nights:</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><a href="https://wanderlust.video/namibian-nights-from-marsel-van-oosten/">https://wanderlust.video/namibian-nights-from-marsel-van-oosten/</a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic4TSIMm5V9JC_uXHnwMJc_cAv-Inb1JFIdCoHLYTWJjnjxL38-Z3Ca6U61hiEmU3l8xuJKg2yF4oJwlaYH4_sUhVmZLNgf97o5NZ4hoInCcCO4PT3lbhjkbqXB4oswo8MbLJ39Min3X-CUdY7z0mDTyVk7XO_GNFNQsEvf8XsvBvF2ePnmVGvSXaQy-dB/s1400/Mvo%20Vic%20Falls.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1400" data-original-width="1060" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic4TSIMm5V9JC_uXHnwMJc_cAv-Inb1JFIdCoHLYTWJjnjxL38-Z3Ca6U61hiEmU3l8xuJKg2yF4oJwlaYH4_sUhVmZLNgf97o5NZ4hoInCcCO4PT3lbhjkbqXB4oswo8MbLJ39Min3X-CUdY7z0mDTyVk7XO_GNFNQsEvf8XsvBvF2ePnmVGvSXaQy-dB/w151-h200/Mvo%20Vic%20Falls.jpg" width="151" /></a></div>Marsel and
his wife have been all over the world, and they can manage their professional activities from anywhere, but they decided to settle in Knysna. They've built a magnificent home overlooking the Knysna estuary. The timing was good. Covid arrived and restricted their travel and
their opportunities to run photography tours, but it gave an opportunity for
them to write <i>Mother: a tribute to Mother Earth</i>, unfortunately currently sold out.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal">To really
appreciate Marsel’s art, visit his website <a href="https://www.squiver.com/about/">https://www.squiver.com/about/</a> </p><p class="MsoNormal">And read about his wonderful photography tours…</p>Michael Sears (of Michael Stanley)http://www.blogger.com/profile/09886295534214542834noreply@blogger.com2