Pues ayer sí pude ver el “Sotry Tellers” de Foo Fighters.

Resultó que al final el Inge tenía un compromiso y la reunión se aplazó; compré unas cheves y ví el Laberinto del Fauno en lo que empezaba. A las 11:30 le cambié al VH1 y ya estaba Dave Grohl abriendo la sesión. Me gustó mucho el programa, este wey es un gran músico y al menos en el programa se veía auténtico, disfrutando enormemente lo que hacía. Esa es mi idea de un buen músico, alguien que disfruta lo que hace y hace que los demás lo disfrutemos. Las anécdotas fueron buenas, las que más me gustaron fueron las de “Big Me” y la de “Everlong”. No podía dejar de sonreír, por que me gusta mucho su música y por que me acordé de dos grandes amigos.

Primero del Rafa. Es fan de los Foo Fighters y tenemos el pacto de que cuando vengan a México (ojalá sea pronto) iremos a verlos, todos en bola. Me imaginé a todos grite y grite hasta adelante, y al Rafa haciendo caras mientras canta Learn To Fly, o la misma Everlong. Pensé en que el debería estar viendo ese programa, pero quien sabe en donde andaría. Pensé en todos yendo al concierto y pasándola bien.

Segundo, del Real. Y es curioso, por que hace dos noches soñé con el, soñé con todos juntos, en la caja de una camioneta pizcando ropa de la que venden en el tianguis por 10 pesos. Estando en la camioneta decidimos ir por cheves y tomárnoslas en la cochera y todos reíamos, Miguel estaba doblado de risa, Tonchi con su risita característica mientras cierra los ojos, el Bebé con sus carcajadas sonoras, Rafa tratando de decir algo entre la risa para hacernos reír más y Real con la cerveza el la mano y tratando de no aventar el trago que acababa de darle. Ese día desperté contento. Word Forward, según cuenta Dave Grohl, la escribió para su mejor amigo, quien acababa de morir el año pasado. Y se me hizo curioso, que justo después de haber soñado con eso, llegara esa canción. Justa. Precisa.

De verdad me encantaría ir a un concierto de los Foo Fighters.

With Christmas quickly approaching Disney/Pixar along with Mattel have got their Christmas CARS release out and about at Toys R Us, Disney Stores and at Target. The Holiday CARS include Snow Day Sally, Holiday Spirit Sheriff, Holiday Hot Shot Lightning McQueen, Decked Out Doc Hudson, and Christmas Crusier Ramone. Target secured a 6 pack box set of all the above CARS but the 6th is the DEAL BREAKER MUST HAVE! (REINDEER MATER) Reindeer Mater is Jacked up on real rubber snow tires accented with snow and dons a cool antler tipped snow hat. A+++ creativity from the Disney CARS team at Mattel. The singles are good but the Box set is better! I will let the pictures do the talking!

I got Snow Day Sally in single form for my daughter since opening the set at the moment isn’t going to happen.

The Target Exclusive Box Set:

They could have packaged this as a single and shipped 20 cases to each store and I am willing to wager they would sell out in hours!

“We need to become storytellers again, and so multiply our ministry by calling around us the great witnesses who in different ways offer guidance to doubting hearts.” – Henri J.M. Nouwen

The newest release of Storyteller singles have been popping up at stores across the United States. I was able tyo grab a set of the show girls Laverne,Rhonda, and Sheila as well as the cousins Cletus,Buford and Jud. Nice looking cars and kind of cool since they are something away from the norm. I am still patiently waiting the 3 pack versions to see the offerings.

Bruce Kuhn

Hearing the gospel performed live is such a treat. Listening to a story we usually read and study brings the story alive in fresh ways, wakening us to the dramatic arc of Jesus’ epic like nothing else can.  The leading performer of the gospel is Broadway actor Bruce Kuhn–he is unparalleled in his professionalism, in his passion and in his love for that greatest of stories. Over the years I’ve had the privilege of seeing Bruce Kuhn perform Luke, Philippians, portions of John and various parables; I was able to participate in a two-day workshop in Germany in 2000 on “Story-telling the Scripture” which profoundly influenced my own reading and telling of the story.  A good friend of mine has studied with him much more, even touring with him this summer in Zimbabwe. His story telling of Scripture continues to compel people to consider Jesus the world over.

This evening my staff colleagues and I (all of whom are very enthusiastic about Bruce Kuhn) took in The Gospel of John at the Vancouver Fringe Festival.   A British actor named Garry treated us to an eloquent performance of that most symphonic of gospels.  His performance, each word from the King James Version, was an edited sixty-minute version designed to fit the Fringe time requirements.  It was evident from the start that Garry loved the story, and, I think, believed it to be true.  He, in contrast to Bruce, used fairly minimal props to good effect (Bruce uses no props).  He was a quieter presence than Bruce, and as a result, seemed less riveting.  However, unlike Bruce, he is still pretty new to this whole Gospel story-telling gig.  He has acted professionally, though not for a few years, and recently put together this telling of The Gospel of John when he had heard about another actor who had performed Matthew years ago (not Bruce, but possibly the one who also had inspired Bruce). He had only performed it a handful of times before tonight.

Afterwards, we slipped over the Agro Cafe, and the actor also showed up. We invited him over the sit and chat with us, we who are a fairly lively (and intimidating?) group of passionate John nerds. We were able to hear a bit of his story, and were able to ask him a few of our questions (one of the main ones–why did you edit what you did?– was mostly cleared up when we found out about the sixty-minute time limit).

Hearing the gospel told in the spirit of an unfolding narrative is something everyone should do.  If you get a chance to hear it told, do take it. If you get a chance to learn more about storytelling Scripture, for the sake of your community, please jump at that opportunity.  In your own reading, and your public reading , practice reading it out loud beforehand with the eye of a master storyteller. You will benefit from its hearing, and so will anyone who listens.

Years ago, my family and I were in Kerala in an Ayurvedic ashram where my father was undergoing treatment. There was no cable TV, and very little entertainment in the ashram as the evenings crept up. I was ten years old then. But the magic of those evenings is still something I remember as special. They were made special because of the stories my father liked to tell us.

As the evenings wore on, we( my brother and I) would huddle near him, watch him as he wrapped his shawl around his broad shoulders securely, and start telling us a story. Enraptured, we forgot the mosquitoes that buzzed relentlessly in our ears, or the warm wind that often blew in from the open windows. We were in a world of our own. A world which Abbu had created. We believed that he had read a marvellous book from which he told these stories to us, and I wanted to read it when I grew up.

It was only later that Ammi told me that there was no book. Abbu had made up all the stories on the spot. Princes, thieves, golden-haired princesses, rubies, diamonds, jewel thieves, car-chases, all vied with each other for our attention as he added characters on the fly, and developed the plot whichever way he liked.

My grandmother(maternal) was another charismatic story teller. My brother and I liked to play on the swing set that my father had set up behind our house, and she would roll out a mat there, bring her crochet, and tell us numerous stories that she had read. We would watch her as she would nod at some internal memory, and correct her crochet mistakes by unwinding the yarn, while at the same time, she would tell us the stories of kings, princesses and fairies, from Pariyon ki Alif Laila, a book that I really wanted to read when I was small, but never did because it was in Urdu, and I’m plain lazy when it comes to reading Urdu.

I like to think that I have inherited my story telling genes from my father and my grandmother, although they came from disparate families. If they were alive today, I’m sure they would have been thrilled to take combined credit in my becoming a writer.

Obviously, I will be dedicating Kite Strings to the Story Tellers of my family. Wish you both were here.

How does globalization undermine the ministry of the Church in her context in Madison and her strategic influence at the University of Wisconsin at Madison?

Probably the greatest hindrance to effective ministry is split thinking. Paul Hiebert describes this problem in his article “Spiritual Warfare and Worldview” from The Iguassu Dialogue. He writes, “The worldview of the West is shaped since the 16th century by the Cartesian dualism that divides the cosmos into two realities – the supernatural world…and the natural material world of humans, plants, animals, and matter.” (Hiebert 2001:169) In his book, “The (Magic) Kingdom of God: Christianity and Global Culture Industries,” Michael Budde describes how dualism is the “greatest internal obstacle to revitalizing the Church’s sense of mission and commitment.” This split in thinking has also divided the Church. Sadly, followers of Jesus either see no need for intellectual pursuits, asking the difficult questions, and working to solve social problems, or they have little interest in an intimate relationship with God.

Because the church has been divided, many well-trained believers do not know how to relate their faith to their everyday lives. They feel divided between private interests, such as church, spirituality, etc., and public concerns, such as economics, politics, environment, etc. This split has resulted in a greater distance between the Church and the world.

A profound opportunity has emerged, however, with regard to the Church’s exchange with the university community. Today’s apologists, reformers, and missionaries should understand the cultural metaphors without which, as Alasdair MacIntyre writes, would “deprive children of stories” and “leave them unscripted, anxious stutterers in their actions as in their words.”

Budde points to the opportunity for story telling in post-modernity. His view is that the post-modern era has given the Church freedom “to take its own values and commitments seriously, to be different in the world, and to tell its stories.” Budde sees the recent changes in social theory as freeing scholars who can do what they are called to do: “explore problems we care about…that passion and commitment are preconditions for (and not barriers to) important intellectual work.”

Films is one of the various types of digital objects represented by digital collections in Opening History aggregation.

Full version of the Alan Lomax’s Dreams and Songs of the Noble Old film (58 min., 1991), courtesy of Folkstreams digital collection of documentary films about American folk or roots culture. More information about this digital collection can be found at .

The statue of Evangeline stands resolute in her tragic search for Gabriel

During our time here in the Maritimes, we have learned a little about the history of the Atlantic peoples, ranging from the strategic positioning of the British war fleets to the tragic expulsion of the Acadians. It has been informative and engaging for us as a family.

Yesterday we toured the Grande Pre, a site commemorating the cultural genocide of the Acadians in the mid-eighteenth century.  We learned about these industrious and peaceful people who through hard work and creativity claimed from the sea amazingly fertile land. And we learned about their plight as they were caught beneath nationalistic agendas and suffered for it.

I was struck yesterday how the stories we tell ourselves, particularly stories we tell about our past, form our identity as people.  The Acadian people suffered greatly through the machinations of the ongoing (and ongoing and ongoing) conflict between the British and the French. And their tragedy is now a central part of their identity as a people.  The songs they sing, the stories they tell, the pilgrimages they walk, the places they love, all bear testimony to their story. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow immortalized the character of Evangeline in his poem of that name, describing her search for her lover lost during the Great Upheaval of the Acadians.

When we entered Grande Pre yesterday, the woman asked us if any of us were Acadians. My immediate response, unsaid but on the tip of my tongue, was “sorry, no, I was one of the perpetrators,” because, historically, that’s the side of the story I come from, the British.  It would be easy only to hear and tell the glorious stories of the British people (of which there are many) and ignore the evil that is also present in our history (the Acadian expulsion among others).   Our stories, our full histories, form our identity as a people today.  They remind us not only of who we are, but they also remind us we are capable of being good and evil, misguided and merciful. 

One of the amazing things about our even larger story–the Christian story–is that it tells the full history of God’s people–sinful, obedient, humble, proud, tragic, glorious. It’s a testament to its truth as a story, for it does not gloss over the significant missteps of its great forebears. Think Abraham and his trickery, and also of his great faith. Remember David and his murderous lust, and his contrite heart of worship. Consider John the Baptist and his prophetic faith, and his doubts about Jesus.

We need to tell the whole story about ourselves as families, as peoples, and as nations. We need not gloss over the ugliness nor the beauty. For these stories give us shape, leading us to greater understanding, repentance and mercy (if we will hear and respond) and reminding us that each and every story–even the stories running against God’s will for his world–are ultimately caught up into the grand story of the God who judges, reconciles, and redeems all things to himself.

Please note: I’m going to be off-grid this week, along the coast of Nova Scotia. I hope to post if I can, but I’m uncertain of internet accessibility. Keep checking back!! Thanks for reading.

The late Gregory Peck is regarded as one of the great movie actors. Peck’s performances usually conveyed great depth and he often played characters of strength, resilience, honesty, integrity, generosity and warmth. Even his early movies such as “Gentleman’s Agreement” display Peck’s interest in morality and social justice. Former US President Bill Clinton once said that Peck’s acting over the decades had helped heal some of America’s deepest wounds. Peck often came across in his acting as a gentleman, in the true sense of the word. That is, a gentleman, in terms of his sensitivities toward others and a strength of character born of wisdom and the pain of life. What is unusual about Peck is that his acting was a reflection of the real life person. What is also unusual is that Peck remained married for 43 years and to the same woman.

Gregory Peck made many memorable films, some indeed like a great novel, timeless in their illumination of the human condition. Films such as: ‘Cape Fear’ (1962), ‘The Trial of the Catonsville 9′, ‘Twelve O’clock High’, ‘The Guns of Navarone’, ‘To Kill a Mocking Bird’, ‘The Boys from Brazil’, ‘Cape Fear’ (1992).

Toward the end of his life, someone asked Peck in an interview, how would he like to be remembered? He gave an interesting answer. He said most of all that he wanted to be remembered as a good husband and father. He wanted his children and grandchildren to remember him as a good father and grandfather. He wanted his wife to remember him as someone who made her life as happy as she had made his. Then he went on to say that professionally he wanted to be remembered as a good story teller; to have done some work that would stand the test of time; to convey a meaningful story; to hold an audience from start to finish and for people to say he told the story well and that it was a story worth hearing, a story that brought enjoyment and had value.

I pray that my life and ministry will not have done too much damage to my family, friends, colleagues and congregations. If the credits of my ministry even slightly out-weigh the debits then that will be an expression of God’s grace. As Christian ministers, let us strive first and foremost to be good role models to those closest to us. May our acting be a reflection of who we are at home. May we also learn to do our craft well – to be good story tellers. May we have done the work of the Gospel in ways that will stand the test of time. May we tell the stories of Jesus in relevant and meaningful forms that are worth hearing, bringing enjoyment and adding eternal value to people’s lives.

Kim Thoday

Minister with Churches of Christ,

Master story-tellers unfold the complexity and depth of their tale over the grand arc of their story.  Often the best stories–the ones that really draw us in and stick with us–stretch over periods of time, where there are successive dramatic revelations of intrigue, plot, crises and character.  Hints of meaning are often imbedded early, usually missed or considered insignificant by the reader at that time, and only come to light as the story unfolds.   Good stories leave us wondering how it will end, even drawing us to imagine potential scenarios for resolution.

Lately, I’ve read through a spate of books characterized by this quality of unfolding complexity and depth.  At the suggestion of friends, I read the Farseer and Tawny Man trilogies by Robin Hobb (loved them), then threw myself (again) into my all-time favorite, The Lord of the Rings.  Over the last couple weeks, I’ve been reading through the seven Harry Potter books, appreciating again the art of the master storyteller.  As Rowling unfolds her story, it’s depth and complexity, the tension that grows yet demands resolution, the seemingly insignificant moments/characters/objects that suddenly achieve central significance, the ambivalence around the motives, loyalty and history of certain characters, all marching toward the climax, draws you in and holds you in it’s world of imagination.  And, as I did just previous to the publication of the seventh and final book, you find yourself discussing with friends or reading blogs on whether or not Snape was actually evil or if Harry would truly have to die in the end.  

I love good stories. The way they mark my imagination and remain in my field of vision reminds me of the BIG story we are all part of, the one that not only marks our imaginations but fundamentally alters our experience of the world–our divergent histories and our shared futures, gathered around the person of Jesus.  The good stories we create and enjoy in some way bear witness to this larger story; the stories we tell often mirror ultimate reality, retelling our basic themes and redescribing our fundamental longing for the ultimate Story that brings shape, hope and meaning to our lives.  

What good stories have you been reading lately?

Tennille reading the last installment - July 2007. It was a test of our marriage to share that book.

The past month I had a first class seat on “cloud 9″….My emotions were flowing and ebbing, which can be the norm for me in a creative state and I engaged in all the romance, day dreaming, and appreciation I could handle. My “boat was afloat”, so to speak, travelling down canals I had never navigated before, I now know, I should have taken that course in directional boating….Might have saved me tons of struggling to determine “what is the right thing to do or say“, “which channel do I navigate in” and “how do I tread water when it feels if my heart and soul are sinking“?

I actually assumed perhaps, I was living my “Bliss”….and I felt I truly was. My creative spirit was introduced to a total stranger, who in turn introduced me to the beauty of the sound of an orchestra. Yes, I have heard an orchestra before, in movies, at plays, on CD’s….but I didn’t know the difference between hearing and listening….now I know. And the difference is huge. If you have a minute, I would love to explain my “eclectic” take ….ready?

Each instrument, percussion, horns, keyboard or wind ….have their own role to play in a given arrangement….as we each do. Each melodious instrument has it’s own distinct sound, and with the help of direction…(rules, knowledge and goals), those sounds are played to perfection, providing the one playing “practices ….practice makes perfect“. When you combine each of those different “noises” with one another, it produces a symphony of noises, ergo a concert, musical composition, a backdrop to enhance other performers talents, like dancers or magicians or story tellers…..

Most of us focus our ears on lyrics if there are any….or the total sound of all the instruments in unison….we hear the complete rendition, the entire performance collectively….

Last month, I began, with the help of that friend to depict the individual sounds of each instrument….for example, a flute defines, a piano leads, percussion brings attention to the piece, a harp or violin bring the breeze, the softness, the delicacy of sound as if the composition is caressed with a feather. Each role is so much like the roles within our lives.

For example we have the violin people….that gently dust our souls; the percussionists that scream…”Hey, hear me! Pay attention to me!….The Flutist folks, accent the minute details they direct the focus of the melody….accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative, they are the adjectives that add the flourish. Of course there are also those in the Brass section, those who blast out their ideas, straightforwardly, demanding to be heard in a crowd, and lastly the pianist,the keyboarders, no not skateboarders, we’re talking music here people, are the leaders, they give the balance to all the other combinations…they flow,ebb and sway to the moments of life’s rythems just as a pianist dances with the ivories!

I never before saw people as instruments, although, the hymn “Let There Be Peace On Earth”.…is not only referred to as the prayer of St Francis, a divine lover and patron saint of animals,but as a combination of what this world should look like, if all people were in sync, if all the “instruments” were finely tuned and following the scales in life and practiced their talents on a daily basis Amazing, really, I am sure most musicians would be able to understand this analogy perfectly and even include the other intruments I am not so familiar with. Hmmmmm I wonder if I would be an oboe or a piccolo…or perhaps a trumpet? Interesting.

It makes perfect sense, a conductor ( God) perfectly directs the orchestra(people) and when they play in synchronization, the melody is amazing…. The efforts of each combine for the excellence of all…..sweet, huh?

So the next time you are hearing music, think about this analogy and open your ears to learn to “listen”.…and amazingly so, you’ll begin to hear the melody in everyday life, the birds singing in the early morning (Get up, get going), the music of the passing traffic zipping down the highway, the music of the waves lapping the shore’s edge in tune with the wind and currents and perhaps you also will begin to feel and see the harmony of life about us, in everyone, in everything….the musical composition of the world orchestrated by a fabulous Maestro….and soon your perspective will begin to change, you’ll begin to feel the joy in the smallest things, you’ll be able to feel the peace that only a symphony of sound can bring into your life.

It’s now time for me, to return to my music….no, it’s not really mine, my ears are just borrowing it for a time, it’s my way to begin anew after wiping my slate clean. What are your methods, will you share them here? Will you express your thoughts, your concerns, your dreams and fantasies? Become your own conductor of your “one man band” and perhaps one day, that band will be united with others and before you can blink an eye, you will be playing the melodies of the worlds finest orchestra…I sure would like to be one of the first to have front row seats at the recital of your new life, your new beginning….For just a moment in time, my favorite quote rang so true: “Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away”.…for these actualizations and symbolic comparisons, thank you Maestro, you have been a fabulous teacher!

WorshipKitchen will see you at this event www.storychicago.com with @benarment. More details here http://tinyurl.com/q4gjzd

Story Tellers Chicago

Chuki is BY FAR one of my most favorite CARS characters. There is something about her anime-esque look that fits in well with my JDM car collecting. I was lucky enough to have help from a international collector to obtain a international carded Chuki. The huge difference is instead of her name being on the Race O Rama ticket it is her picture and her name and translation on the rear of the card.

Basically Kanye West went on VH1 and did a bunch of newer songs and explained how he felt during the making of that song, or just random thoughts in general. A lot of switching up in the beats and some cool stories and twists and turns. Here he performs Tell Everybody That You Know (Or, See You In My Nightmares), minus Lil Wayne. Funny that MTV was on top of this before VH1 was…

Kanye West-VH1 Story Tellers (Tell Everybody That You Know)
Props NahRight

This week marked two things: my first full month in South Africa and my first week of classes. For one of the first times, I began to make a mental transition from vacationer to student. I’ve become somewhat oriented with the Western Cape, and somewhat informed about the political situation here long with the upcoming election. Also, it’s nice to be on a campus again. UCT is about ten times the size of Bates campus-wise so I’m getting used to walking a lot when I miss the shuttle. (I will never complain about walking to Russel St. again.) This campus is gorgeous, too. Table Mountain looks over every department and the sun pretty much shines eternally. The students here are always dressed to the nines, which is rare at Bates. Most of us tend to roll into seminars as comfortable as aesthetically possible. Here’s a picture of Jameson Hall during our orientation, almost the quad of the University. Everyone walks through there at one point of the day, people are generally lounging in every corner (sunny or otherwise), the student center is just next door, the only thing missing are barefoot Batesies tight-roping between trees.

While I am a student at the University of Cape Town I am registered for four courses.

Writing and Editing in the Media: This class seems cool so far. We study pretty much all forms of writing for media. One of the things I like best is that for every discipline we focus on (radio, sportswriting, screenplay, copy editing), a different Professor who specializes in that field will lead the lecture. I really like classes with more than one Professor, I’ve had a couple of these at Bates, they provide more insight to subjects where there isn’t just one answer. Also, because the class is a humongous lecture, we are separated into smaller tutorials depending on the field of journalism we are all most interested in. I haven’t been placed into one (based on my preference) yet, so I’m pretty excited to see where I end up. The downfall of this class is that it’s an 8am. Waking up at 6:30am for a class was something I vowed never to do again last semester, but I really wanted to take this class so here I am. It’s slightly more manageable in Cape Town because it isn’t dark when you wake up and you don’t have to bank on your roommate waking up for encouragement. The sun rises early and sets late here so there are few excuses.

Comparative Politics: While the African-American Studies program often focuses on politics, I have never taken a Politics course at Bates. I kind of had a “no better time but the present” attitude about the subject and I thought it would be a great opportunity to learn more about South Africa’s political structure in comparison to others around the world. This class also has tutorials, because of the lecture’s size, where we will be in groups of about twenty discussing in depth what we talk about in lectures. Similar to Writing and Editing in the Media, the downside to this class is its meeting time. Monday-Thursday at 5pm. It just starts to feel late, campus becomes empty, and after a day with an 8am – I’m exhausted. But I haven’t been disappointed with a class yet so it’s looking like I’m in for the long haul.

African Instruments/Ensemble: This class is a reintroduction to musical performance. If you know me well or have even read this blog a few times, you may be aware that I love music. That said, I haven’t played an instrument since middle school. This class is separated into classes of six people (i.e. Our Band) and we learn African folk songs on traditional African instruments like drums and xylophones and more  that have a lot in common with classically European instruments such as harps. Aside from our six-person sessions, everyone registered for African Instruments comes together to work as a larger ensemble with the instruments we’ve begun to learn in class. It’s dope, clearly.
Debates in Africa: This class is probably my favorite so far. It’s a graduate class at UCT so I was pretty nervous as the first class meeting crept up. The class explores the writings of African intellectuals during liberation movements in the continent. We’re reading so many interesting perspectives and it seems like we are really going to get our hands dirty with the material. Another plus side, the class has only 15 students in it. At a school as large as University of Cape Town, that seems like an impossible size. My cousin (who came to UCT when she went abroad as a Junior) strongly suggested taking a graduate school course. She promised it would be more like my home institution and incredibly enriching. Also, the number of students is more comfortable for me because most of my classes at Bates are of a similar size. Also, being at a graduate level invites only students who are really truly interested in the subject, not to mention peers of all ages. A few of my classmates are between their late-twenties/thirties, married, world travelers, and great story tellers. One of the best parts of the class are the lunches we have together afterward, where you get to know people outside of the classroom.

Since it’s Friday morning, and apparently my Professors don’t believe in class on a day so close to the weekend, I’m lounging in the sun just enjoying another sarong-draped day in beautiful Cape Town. No complaints.

Peace and then some,

Naima

       Yes Oprah is rich and powerful, yes, people hang on her every word…but, with the recent memoir, “Angel at the Fence” written by Herman Rosenblat; some people are looking to point blame at Oprah after finding out that the memoir was based on a falsehood.   Come on, don’t blame Oprah!

        Look the thing is…Oprah gives her endorsement to books that move her.  So what, if this book was written as a work of fiction the story would still be good.  The alleged falsehood of how the couple in the book met; upon which the premise of the book was based, is not any reflection on Oprah.  Herman was a survivor of a concentration camp.  He told a version of meeting his wife as having taken place when the “angel” would bring him apples and bread to the fence of the concentration camp…virtually keeping him alive and helping him to survive the experience.  

         In truth,what was promoted as a love story extraordinare was a lie; they actually met on a blind date many years after his experiences in the concentration camp.  It is a terrible thing to tell everyone a lie about the roots of his marriage; expecting others to perpetuate the myth…just to sell a book.  The Rosenblat’s son did not agree with the falsehood and says he didn’t want anything to do with it. But think about this, when people that his family knew learned of the the writing of the book…and were complimentary….how did his parents expect him to act?  Was he supposed to swallow the truth and pretend that the story being told was the truth?  Or was he to contradict his parents whom I am sure he loves?  What a predictament to put your child in!

         Even though the beginning of the Rosenblat’s relationship is said to be untrue…Herman’s experiences of survival in the concentration camp would have been a very good memoir; one which would have stood up well enough on it’s own, without the lie.  But, the lie is on the author…not on someone who read the book and recommended the book to others not knowing the truth.

          So, again I say…don’t blame Oprah for something in which she had no way of knowing was untrue.  If anything, it should reflect back on the publishing industry.  They are responsible for how they publish and package a book.  If they are going to put a description of the book as a memoir…then they have the responsibility of determining whether or not it is in fact a memoir.  Still, a memoir is a recollection of how one remembers events from their past…and unless the person in charge of publishing the book was there in the past…there has to be some free benefit of doubt that the author is telling the truth.  Ultimately, it is the author of the book that is responsible for whether or not the truth is being published.  In this case, no one else carries the weight of the falsehood more than the person who KNOWS IT IS A FALSEHOOD! 

        The sad thing is that this experience and others like it…only make it tougher for writers to break into an industry that is already famous for being difficult to get published in.   Who deserves to lose the loss of respect over this book for an abuse of trust…the publishers, the author, Oprah or the agents , or the publicity people?

I joined a new Toastmasters’ club called Laff Masters.  Over the last couple or three years Toastmasters International has been branching out into specialty clubs – we have a dance club, an eating out club, a story tellers club, a project management club, and many others and now we have a Comedy Club.  In this club we will learn how to present in a more humorous way, tell jokes without forgetting the punch line and getting our timing down right so that the climax is a climax in the presentation.  During high school I was considered the comedien of whatever group I was associated with – then something happened -  I was no longer the funny, witty, full of fun person that I used to be.  I guess I was not a real comedien or I would have sustained that persona over the course of time.  I became more serious, more introspective, more sedate, in fact I became quite boring.  I still have a great sense of humor – that is, I can see the humor in most everything – therefore I don’t find myself getting upset about many things, but I am not funny – I can illicit laughter through wise cracking, but I’m not gut busting funny, and I probably won’t ever be – but at least I can learn how to project my sense of humor outward and let others enjoy what I see as funny.

Just yesterday I pulled up to the drive up ATM at the bank to get some cash.  As I was sitting there waiting for my transaction to conclude I noticed a small metal plate attached to the machine with a message which read something like this: ” If you are seeing impaired, we can offer audio assistance”.  Now this struck me as really funny – and somewhat scary – if my vision was impaired, what was I doing driving a car up to the ATM window – and also, if my vision was impaired, how could I read the sign to know that I could listen to instructions if I couldn’t see them.  I laughed to myself all day long with that little bit of humor.

As I began thinking about what stories I could tell that would be humorous I remembered the really embarrasing and horrifying time I had getting into a girdle a few years ago.  My granddaughter, Trisha was getting married, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t seem to get my weight down to where I wanted it.  We had purchased a dress for me to wear and had to have it altered – bigger,that is and I still looked big, fat and lumpy in it, so decided I needed a girdle to make me look better.  The gyrations, grunting and groaning, pulling, twisting, panting, resting, huffing and puffing, and more groaning I had to go through to get into that thing was atrocious, but I was determined to look as good as I could for the wedding.  I might be uncomfortable, but I would be presentable.  Needless to say, I spent a good deal of time standing up during the wedding because it hurt my midsection to sit down.  This would be a good story – and it would not only make people laugh, but some of the crowd would be able to relate to my perdicament. And the best part is that I can end the speech with something that will show that I am now able to get into that girdle that I no longer need with no sweat or tears.

That is the best part of becoming the body weight that is perfect for me.  I give thanks every day for being able to develop a program that works for me – and no longer have to worry about getting into girdles – or looking fat and lumpy without one.  I did become aware that it took something like this to make me want to become my “perfect body weight” for the rest of my life, so when other events came along I didn’t have to go on a crash diet – not reach my desired weight and then be unhappy because I didn’t look as good as I would have liked.  I alse became aware that the time to start thinking about never again having to diet was when I first started my new diet.  By the time I reached my desired body weight, I was in the habit of listening to my body, visualizing myself as I wanted to be for the rest of my life and looking and acting like that person, and knowing that I could stay this way and be that thin, attractive and completely in control person that I had always wanted to be.

I’m looking forward to the next event, which is my birthday in December.  My daughter and son-in-law, Kathy and Karl are throwing me a birthday party and I am inviting all my friends in all my different groups to help me celebrate and I will have a new outfit – in the size I always wanted to wear – and not have to get into a girdle.  Hip-Hip-away!

Think Thin Thoughts!

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