Life is a lot like the old Virgina Slims ads. Y'know, "You've come a long way, baby." But there are certain times when one has to wonder if progress is really . . . well, progress. We get so caught up in the hustle and bustle, communicating via machines (just as we are now) that we forget that communication via the spoken word is something special. Here's an interesting example:
Now this is well done, has humor in it and is cute. But it takes all the personal touches out of the story. I seriously doubt the creator of this video meant that, but that's what technology is doing.
You want a personal touch to the story? It's hand-drawn, more than likely memorized by many of us, and will be remembered long after most of us are gone. I've mentioned it already, but one can never talk about it enough.
But you know what? In the long run, I guess it doesn't matter as both get the point across. This is the time we celebrate the birth of our Savior, and that is joyous reason for celebration. It doesn't matter if you're getting the message via iPod or from Linus, as long as the message continues to be spread: Let's continue to pass it along.
Merry Christmas Everyone.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Happy (?) Anniversary To Me
This is my anniversary.
No, I haven't surprised you all by running off to the Elvis Chapel in Vegas and getting married. (Give me some credit.)
But this is my anniversary as on this day my life changed forever. On this date in 1964, my father walked into the living room, and found me on the floor in convulsions. He and Mom rushed me to the hospital, and I was put in the Children's Wing, where I spent the next several weeks, including my first Christmas.
My parents spent twelve hour shifts watching over me, and my fever soared. I came down with other things in the hospital and noted here in a previous blog: http://goodolthisanthat.blogspot.com/2010/12/experiences-with-angels.html The events led to a change in my family's lives, for the better, so what happened was a good thing.
I was diagnosed with seizures, yet the doctor refused to call me an epileptic, as he didn't like to use that phrase. Why? It's not contagious, nor a shameful condition. Many famous people suffered from epilepsy: Vincent Van Gogh, Julius Caesar, Saint Paul, Napoleon Bonaparte, Pope Pius IX, Alfred Nobel, Lord Bryon, Alexander the Great, Socrates, and Cardinal Richelieu to name a few. I'm in pretty good company, aren't I?
I've had surgery that helps with my spells. More on that can be found at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vagus_nerve_stimulator Since then, I have spoken to groups of patients and nurses regarding my surgery. My neurologist has patients who are unsure about the surgery call me and ask how it has helped me, so I am honestly glad I am an epileptic. If I'm able to assist one person, then it's been worth it.
Am I noble, unselfish? Booshwah. All of this has been harder on my family than me. I've just had to have the spells. They've had to watch me have them, knowing there's nothing they can do. That's the hard part. Fortunately, for most of my life, they've been well under control.
So today, I 'celebrate' my anniversary. I wouldn't have my life any other way than what it is, as strange as it may seem. To be grateful one is epileptic may sound like an odd quirk, but it also makes me grateful for the sacrifices my family has made over the years.
Thank you Mom, Dad, and Diana. I couldn't have done it without you.
No, I haven't surprised you all by running off to the Elvis Chapel in Vegas and getting married. (Give me some credit.)
But this is my anniversary as on this day my life changed forever. On this date in 1964, my father walked into the living room, and found me on the floor in convulsions. He and Mom rushed me to the hospital, and I was put in the Children's Wing, where I spent the next several weeks, including my first Christmas.
My parents spent twelve hour shifts watching over me, and my fever soared. I came down with other things in the hospital and noted here in a previous blog: http://goodolthisanthat.blogspot.com/2010/12/experiences-with-angels.html The events led to a change in my family's lives, for the better, so what happened was a good thing.
I was diagnosed with seizures, yet the doctor refused to call me an epileptic, as he didn't like to use that phrase. Why? It's not contagious, nor a shameful condition. Many famous people suffered from epilepsy: Vincent Van Gogh, Julius Caesar, Saint Paul, Napoleon Bonaparte, Pope Pius IX, Alfred Nobel, Lord Bryon, Alexander the Great, Socrates, and Cardinal Richelieu to name a few. I'm in pretty good company, aren't I?
I've had surgery that helps with my spells. More on that can be found at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vagus_nerve_stimulator Since then, I have spoken to groups of patients and nurses regarding my surgery. My neurologist has patients who are unsure about the surgery call me and ask how it has helped me, so I am honestly glad I am an epileptic. If I'm able to assist one person, then it's been worth it.
Am I noble, unselfish? Booshwah. All of this has been harder on my family than me. I've just had to have the spells. They've had to watch me have them, knowing there's nothing they can do. That's the hard part. Fortunately, for most of my life, they've been well under control.
So today, I 'celebrate' my anniversary. I wouldn't have my life any other way than what it is, as strange as it may seem. To be grateful one is epileptic may sound like an odd quirk, but it also makes me grateful for the sacrifices my family has made over the years.
Thank you Mom, Dad, and Diana. I couldn't have done it without you.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Those Thrilling (And Funny) Days of Yesteryear
People are funny. We progress from the written page to the Kindle, where we merely read the written page on a hand-held device where it takes us 10% longer, but it's 'neat'. We've progressed from old-time radio to television and viewing films on the Internet, yet there are groups forming all the time to recreate the classic radio shows and people listen to old radio all the time.
Why?
For one thing, it's darn good. Jack Benny allowed us to laugh at him, not at his jokes. George Burns and Gracie Allen got us thoroughly confused, due to Gracie's ramblings. Bob Hope's monologues cracked people up, and they never knew where he was going to be broadcasting from. Fred Allen was going to be sharp as a tack. The Shadow would get the villains, and so would the Lone Ranger. The door on 'Inner Sanctum' would frighten everyone as it squeaked every week.
Radio allowed the audience to use one's imaginations, something that today's entertainment hasn't done in a long, long time. The sound effects people actually let us think Jack Benny went way down into the depths of the earth to get his money, using all sorts of alarms. No matter how often we heard the gag, it was always funny, as there was always a twist.
Gracie Allen was supposedly a scatterbrain. Yet everything she said made sense when you listened to it. No one could ever counter what she said for that very reason. And the American public actually thought she was stupid, buying into it. When she would go shopping and ask to see a red blouse, she saleswoman would bring her a blue skirt. Just like people supposed Benny was cheap in real life, and it would cost him five thousand dollars a year in overtipping to prove he wasn't. (One waitress gave back a tip, saying, "Please Mr. Benny, leave me my illusions.")
Movie stars would appear on 'Lux Radio Theatre' and 'Academy Award Theatre', recreating the films of the day. Sometimes they would re-create their own films, and other times they would perform other stars' movies. It was interesting to hear a one hour version of 'The Wizard of Oz' or 'It's A Wonderful Life' and compare them to the film.
Sadly, those days are long gone. The stars of old-time radio are no longer with us. We have their shows, however, and can listen to a good portion of them, so they haven't died. Their memories will linger on, and fondly.
Why?
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| Gracie Allen and George Burns |
Radio allowed the audience to use one's imaginations, something that today's entertainment hasn't done in a long, long time. The sound effects people actually let us think Jack Benny went way down into the depths of the earth to get his money, using all sorts of alarms. No matter how often we heard the gag, it was always funny, as there was always a twist.
Gracie Allen was supposedly a scatterbrain. Yet everything she said made sense when you listened to it. No one could ever counter what she said for that very reason. And the American public actually thought she was stupid, buying into it. When she would go shopping and ask to see a red blouse, she saleswoman would bring her a blue skirt. Just like people supposed Benny was cheap in real life, and it would cost him five thousand dollars a year in overtipping to prove he wasn't. (One waitress gave back a tip, saying, "Please Mr. Benny, leave me my illusions.")
Movie stars would appear on 'Lux Radio Theatre' and 'Academy Award Theatre', recreating the films of the day. Sometimes they would re-create their own films, and other times they would perform other stars' movies. It was interesting to hear a one hour version of 'The Wizard of Oz' or 'It's A Wonderful Life' and compare them to the film.
Sadly, those days are long gone. The stars of old-time radio are no longer with us. We have their shows, however, and can listen to a good portion of them, so they haven't died. Their memories will linger on, and fondly.
Friday, December 17, 2010
The World's Greatest Audience
He was so cheap whenever he opened his wallet, George Washington blinked from the sun. Carmichael the polar bear, was helping to guard his vault. He considered himself to be a ladies' man, and his idea of a good date was when they paid. When asked about his violin playing, his teacher pointed out the strings of a violin were catgut and the strings from the bow were from a horse's tail - - so imagine a horse stepping on a cat. His eyes were said to have been bluer than the thumb of an Eskimo hitchhiker. He had enough money that the government borrowed from him. And although his birth certificate said he was eighty years of age, he'll always be thirty-nine.
His name was Benjamin Kubelsky, but to millions he'll always be Jack Benny. Away from the stage, he was one of the nicest people you'd ever want to meet. Onstage, he was a cheapskate, a pest who didn't realize he was one, the world's worst violin player, and the butt of every joke on his show - which made them all the more funnier. Benny rarely, if ever, told a joke, and when he tried, was constantly interrupted, which made the situation that much more hilarious. He was the creator of the fall guy.
But more than anything, Jack Benny was the world's greatest audience. George Burns, his best friend, could make him roll on the floor without even trying. They were at a concert given my Jeanette MacDonald. Before Miss MacDonald let one one note, Burns leaned over and whispered, "Jack, if you start laughing while Miss MacDonald sings, it would be very rude." That was all it took. Benny was on the floor, and the two men had to leave.
Another time, they were at a party. Burns walked over, noticing a thread on Benny's shoulder. "May I borrow this?", putting it on his own shoulder. Benny rolled on the ground as Burns walked away with the thread for the rest of the evening. The following day, Burns mailed it back to him with a thank-you note. Mary, Benny's wife, called Burns later that day. Benny had been on the floor for half an hour in laughter.
Danny Kaye told of a time when he was golfing with Benny and Kaye was having a bad day on the links, using language he wasn't proud of. They encountered a group of ladies who let them play through. Kaye hit a horrible shot, and Benny cringed, knowing what was coming. Kaye put his hand to his face, simply saying, "Oh dear!" That was all it took.
Benny never walked out on George Burns' singing, and Burns never walked out on his violin playing. Now that was friendship.
But what's interesting about Jack Benny is that no matter how funny he was, anyone - I mean anyone - could make him laugh. He found humor in anyone and anything. It wasn't a business to him. He loved life and those around him. Comedy needs Jack Benny today, and we've the writers still. But another Jack Benny? Forget it.
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| Jack Benny and Mel Blanc in a classic Christmas show. |
But more than anything, Jack Benny was the world's greatest audience. George Burns, his best friend, could make him roll on the floor without even trying. They were at a concert given my Jeanette MacDonald. Before Miss MacDonald let one one note, Burns leaned over and whispered, "Jack, if you start laughing while Miss MacDonald sings, it would be very rude." That was all it took. Benny was on the floor, and the two men had to leave.
Another time, they were at a party. Burns walked over, noticing a thread on Benny's shoulder. "May I borrow this?", putting it on his own shoulder. Benny rolled on the ground as Burns walked away with the thread for the rest of the evening. The following day, Burns mailed it back to him with a thank-you note. Mary, Benny's wife, called Burns later that day. Benny had been on the floor for half an hour in laughter.
Danny Kaye told of a time when he was golfing with Benny and Kaye was having a bad day on the links, using language he wasn't proud of. They encountered a group of ladies who let them play through. Kaye hit a horrible shot, and Benny cringed, knowing what was coming. Kaye put his hand to his face, simply saying, "Oh dear!" That was all it took.
Benny never walked out on George Burns' singing, and Burns never walked out on his violin playing. Now that was friendship.
But what's interesting about Jack Benny is that no matter how funny he was, anyone - I mean anyone - could make him laugh. He found humor in anyone and anything. It wasn't a business to him. He loved life and those around him. Comedy needs Jack Benny today, and we've the writers still. But another Jack Benny? Forget it.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Johnny Mandel Is A Liar
It has long been believed that suicides rise among those who are alone during the Christmas season. This is an urban legend and has been disproven by those at http://www.suicideinfo.ca/ . As a matter of fact, suicide rates have actually dropped during the holidays.
Why? The answers are relatively simple.
1) During the holidays, vulnerable people are around friends and family. There is a sense of protection.
2) Celebrations around the community remind people of fond memories, hope, and perhaps a renewed outlook.
3) There is an increased awareness of safety-nets such as food banks, shelters and outreach programs during this particular time of year.
There are things to watch for during the holiday season: Loneliness, depression, feelings of loss, financial burdens, problems with the family, alcohol abuse - all of these can intensity during the holidays.
Tips for Coping:
1) Plan ahead. Take time to identify your feelings about Christmas.
2) Be realistic with what you can afford to give.
3) Choose to celebrate with those who make you feel positive and hopeful.
4) Let go of your expectations and make time for what is important for you.
The theme for the movie M*A*S*H, written by Johnny Mandel, is entitled "Suicide Is Painless." Mr. Mandel is a boldfaced liar as it hurts not only the individual, but everyone who knows them. What could they have done to prevent it?
If you know of anyone suffering from depression, don't just be around them at Christmas time. Ensure they have someone around them, letting them know people care for them on a daily basis. It's a simple task, and one that just might allow them to live to a ripe old age. And you just might be able to celebrate another Christmas with them.
Why? The answers are relatively simple.
1) During the holidays, vulnerable people are around friends and family. There is a sense of protection.
2) Celebrations around the community remind people of fond memories, hope, and perhaps a renewed outlook.
3) There is an increased awareness of safety-nets such as food banks, shelters and outreach programs during this particular time of year.
There are things to watch for during the holiday season: Loneliness, depression, feelings of loss, financial burdens, problems with the family, alcohol abuse - all of these can intensity during the holidays.
Tips for Coping:
1) Plan ahead. Take time to identify your feelings about Christmas.
2) Be realistic with what you can afford to give.
3) Choose to celebrate with those who make you feel positive and hopeful.
4) Let go of your expectations and make time for what is important for you.
The theme for the movie M*A*S*H, written by Johnny Mandel, is entitled "Suicide Is Painless." Mr. Mandel is a boldfaced liar as it hurts not only the individual, but everyone who knows them. What could they have done to prevent it?
If you know of anyone suffering from depression, don't just be around them at Christmas time. Ensure they have someone around them, letting them know people care for them on a daily basis. It's a simple task, and one that just might allow them to live to a ripe old age. And you just might be able to celebrate another Christmas with them.
How Do I Know It's Christmastime?
Every year, sometimes even before Thanksgiving, Christmas carols blare from the loudspeakers in the stores. You hear renditions of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" that would make Gene Autry cringe, and versions of "Frosty the Snowman" that have Jimmy Durante rolling in his grave. I'm dreading the rap version of "Silent Night".
There is one tune, however, that has yet to be changed. It's been around for fifty-five Christmases, and the one time they fiddled with it, people raised so much havoc, within a day, the original was back. The revised version has never been heard from since, nor will it ever.
So what is this tune? It's an Oklahoma City jewelry store advertisement. The B.C. Clark Jingle. It begins running the day after Thanksgiving and ends on Christmas Eve. We Okies know that Christmas is around the corner once we hear The Jingle.
The lyrics are simple:
Jewelry is the gift to give,
There is one tune, however, that has yet to be changed. It's been around for fifty-five Christmases, and the one time they fiddled with it, people raised so much havoc, within a day, the original was back. The revised version has never been heard from since, nor will it ever.
So what is this tune? It's an Oklahoma City jewelry store advertisement. The B.C. Clark Jingle. It begins running the day after Thanksgiving and ends on Christmas Eve. We Okies know that Christmas is around the corner once we hear The Jingle.
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| Santa riding a sleigh to the tune of the B.C. Clark Jingle |
Jewelry is the gift to give,
'Cause it's the gift that'll live and live.
So give the gift you know can't fail
From B.C. Clark's Annivers'ry Sale!
So give the gift you know can't fail
From B.C. Clark's Annivers'ry Sale!
Most sales are after Christmas,
But Clark's is just before.
'Most everything is marked way down-
Savings you can't ignore
At Oklahoma's oldest jeweler-
Since eighteen-ninety-two.
So give the gift you know can't fail-
From B.C. Clark's Annivers'ry Sale!
You would be amazed how many people all around the United States who have lived in Oklahoma at one time or another know the lyrics to this little tune. Many people sing along to it when it airs on the radio or television. In many ways, it has become the Oklahoma Anthem. It is a commercial we look forward to seeing, as it reminds us of Christmas. It's an annual tradition, like family get-togethers and caroling. We love it, and they don't over-saturate us with it. Just enough to please us.
B.C. Clark knows how popular The Jingle has become, and sells it on CD. Want to send it to someone in the military? Then it's free. They've set up a website for The Jingle where you can download it to your cell phone or print up the sheet music. Clark's has an official Facebook page just for The Jingle. It has been sung on 'The Tonight Show' by Megan Mullally. There are countless versions of it on You Tube. Silly? Not at all. It merely unifies people with a common like, in that we all love that little ditty. You can talk about a particular song, and I'll go, "Huh?" And you'll do the same on a song I'll bring up. But ask anyone from Oklahoma about The Jingle, and they'll know immediately what you're talking about.
We know it's Christmastime here in Oklahoma, thanks to B.C. Clark.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Experiences With Angels
We generally think of Christmas as a wonderful time, but for many, it's sad, as with the year ending, they begin to reflect upon what they are without. This being the case, for them Christmas is a lonely time and they hate it. It makes the holiday season a very busy time for the angels.
Yes, I believe in angels. I think they're a lot like Max, whom I wrote about in an earlier blog http://goodolthisanthat.blogspot.com/2010/12/bestest-christmas-movies-ever.html . I think they're a touch crafty, using their imagination in order to get the job done. They have to be, as if they showed up in robes and wings, people would be thinking, "I thought I took my medication, not acid!" and run the other way.
Some might be like It's A Wonderful Life's Clarence in that they might appear to be absent-minded and bumbling, but come up with the most brilliant of ideas. We laugh at them, thinking they are incompetent, and they go along with us. Yet they get the job done.
We use the term 'angel' quite a bit in our lives. We see a baby girl and "Oh, she's such an angel." "Your mother had the job of raising you? She must have been an angel."
I have been in the presence of actual angels twice in my life that I know of. If I have any other times, I haven't been aware of it. But then, they don't blow trumpets and say, "Look at me! I'm an angel!" They just do their jobs and go on . . . like Max.
The first time I was too young to know about. My family has told me this story. It was December of 1964. I was ten months old and spending my first Christmas in the hospital. Mom and Dad were rotating twelve hour shifts watching over me. I was in one of the wards, and children were dying all around me. I had a heckuva fever, was dehydrated (All the kids were) and convulsions. Mom and Dad wondering if I'd be next. One particular night, everyone knew it was this little girl's turn. She was too far gone. Dad was sitting up with me, and in the middle of the night, that little girl's father approached Dad and told him, "I just want you to know I'm praying for your little boy."
If you think that didn't affect Dad, you're mistaken. Think about it. That man's daughter was dying that night - and he was praying for me? Makes not one iota of sense, does it? It had Dad thoroughly confused, to say the least. But that man's unselfish comment got Dad to thinking, and it led to a change that wound up affecting not only my father, but my family. And my parents have wound up ministering to thousands of people over the years. So think about how many people that one comment affected.
That little girl left the hospital with a clean bill of health before I did. You cannot tell me she and her father were not angels sent there to change our family's lives. I do not know their names, what they looked like, but don't tell me they weren't angels.
Flash forward forty-two years. I was working in retail at Academy Sports. This particular store was built on a hill. (Please remember this. It's essential to the story.) We had been robbed several months before shortly after closing and were preparing to shut down for the night. It was a week before Christmas, and business had been brisk. I was rounding up the last of the shopping carts. I noticed a man sitting in his car. He'd been there for a while and had never come in to shop. I was worried he was going to rob us and let my boss know about him.
As I finished getting the carts lo and behold, out comes another. This one had a baby in it. Okay. I'll come back for it. Behind me, I heard yet a second cart . Strange. No one else left the store that I saw. Oh well. I went back out to get the woman's cart and saw the man getting into his car, then drive away. The woman told me what had happened:
For the first time ever, she put her merchandise in her car first, instead of her child. The cart started rolling down the hill, and would have gone all the way to the Northwest Expressway, which of course had a ton of traffic. Without a word, the man got out of the car, stopped the cart, and pushed it back to her. Then he got back to his car and simply drove away. I let her know that he'd never come into the store. He'd been there only to save her child. "Ma'am," I said, "That man was an angel." She agreed, and said her child would come to know this story. I hope (and would wager) she's kept that promise.
When I got into the store, I told my boss and co-workers what had happened. Our supposed 'suspicious character' was not what he was supposed to be. (Oh, the apology I owed that man.) When I said I thought he was an angel, I expected some snide remarks, as retail is a skeptical business. Instead, I was told by everyone there, "You might be right." I know I was.
These experiences come to mind this time of year, as they were my Christmas Angels. They were my Clarences, my Maxes. They let me know not to get skeptical, not to forget the small miracles as letting someone knowing you're praying for them or pushing a shopping cart can affect lives.
Merry Christmas.
Yes, I believe in angels. I think they're a lot like Max, whom I wrote about in an earlier blog http://goodolthisanthat.blogspot.com/2010/12/bestest-christmas-movies-ever.html . I think they're a touch crafty, using their imagination in order to get the job done. They have to be, as if they showed up in robes and wings, people would be thinking, "I thought I took my medication, not acid!" and run the other way.
 |
| Henry Travers as Clarence in It's A Wonderful Life |
Some might be like It's A Wonderful Life's Clarence in that they might appear to be absent-minded and bumbling, but come up with the most brilliant of ideas. We laugh at them, thinking they are incompetent, and they go along with us. Yet they get the job done.
We use the term 'angel' quite a bit in our lives. We see a baby girl and "Oh, she's such an angel." "Your mother had the job of raising you? She must have been an angel."
I have been in the presence of actual angels twice in my life that I know of. If I have any other times, I haven't been aware of it. But then, they don't blow trumpets and say, "Look at me! I'm an angel!" They just do their jobs and go on . . . like Max.
The first time I was too young to know about. My family has told me this story. It was December of 1964. I was ten months old and spending my first Christmas in the hospital. Mom and Dad were rotating twelve hour shifts watching over me. I was in one of the wards, and children were dying all around me. I had a heckuva fever, was dehydrated (All the kids were) and convulsions. Mom and Dad wondering if I'd be next. One particular night, everyone knew it was this little girl's turn. She was too far gone. Dad was sitting up with me, and in the middle of the night, that little girl's father approached Dad and told him, "I just want you to know I'm praying for your little boy."
If you think that didn't affect Dad, you're mistaken. Think about it. That man's daughter was dying that night - and he was praying for me? Makes not one iota of sense, does it? It had Dad thoroughly confused, to say the least. But that man's unselfish comment got Dad to thinking, and it led to a change that wound up affecting not only my father, but my family. And my parents have wound up ministering to thousands of people over the years. So think about how many people that one comment affected.
That little girl left the hospital with a clean bill of health before I did. You cannot tell me she and her father were not angels sent there to change our family's lives. I do not know their names, what they looked like, but don't tell me they weren't angels.
Flash forward forty-two years. I was working in retail at Academy Sports. This particular store was built on a hill. (Please remember this. It's essential to the story.) We had been robbed several months before shortly after closing and were preparing to shut down for the night. It was a week before Christmas, and business had been brisk. I was rounding up the last of the shopping carts. I noticed a man sitting in his car. He'd been there for a while and had never come in to shop. I was worried he was going to rob us and let my boss know about him.
As I finished getting the carts lo and behold, out comes another. This one had a baby in it. Okay. I'll come back for it. Behind me, I heard yet a second cart . Strange. No one else left the store that I saw. Oh well. I went back out to get the woman's cart and saw the man getting into his car, then drive away. The woman told me what had happened:
For the first time ever, she put her merchandise in her car first, instead of her child. The cart started rolling down the hill, and would have gone all the way to the Northwest Expressway, which of course had a ton of traffic. Without a word, the man got out of the car, stopped the cart, and pushed it back to her. Then he got back to his car and simply drove away. I let her know that he'd never come into the store. He'd been there only to save her child. "Ma'am," I said, "That man was an angel." She agreed, and said her child would come to know this story. I hope (and would wager) she's kept that promise.
When I got into the store, I told my boss and co-workers what had happened. Our supposed 'suspicious character' was not what he was supposed to be. (Oh, the apology I owed that man.) When I said I thought he was an angel, I expected some snide remarks, as retail is a skeptical business. Instead, I was told by everyone there, "You might be right." I know I was.
These experiences come to mind this time of year, as they were my Christmas Angels. They were my Clarences, my Maxes. They let me know not to get skeptical, not to forget the small miracles as letting someone knowing you're praying for them or pushing a shopping cart can affect lives.
Merry Christmas.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Have We Forgotten?
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| Edmund Gwenn, Natalie Wood, and Maureen O'Hara in Miracle On 34th Street |
Over the years, we've somehow let it be thought that the picture is about Santa. He's the main character, but the movie is about having faith. Faith is an important aspect in life, and that is what Kris Kringle teaches to Doris and Susan, who've been leading lives of pessimism. By the film's end, due to meeting Kris, they have both realized to accentuate the positive.
Another classic Christmas film is 1965's "A Charlie Brown Christmas". It also deals with the commercialism that has sprung from the holiday, and Charlie Brown is the only one who is sickened by it. Yet at the same time, he doesn't understand why we celebrate Christmas, and Linus, the wise sage of the group, explains it to everyone around. It is a classic moment in television history.
The only reason that scene made it into the show was Charles Schulz's insistence. When CBS saw the finished special, they shrugged, saying, "Well, we don't have anything else." Forty-five years later, despite the fact it's a huge seller on DVD, it is still a ratings winner ever December.
Interestingly, both of these films that attacked commercialism are now objects of it. I don't mean the DVDs, but there are dolls dealing with both films. Same with Christmas ornaments. Look at all the books dealing with "A Charlie Brown Christmas" you see in the stores every year. At first, we think it's cute, but then we realize . . . They just didn't get the meaning of the shows.
Charlie Brown would be appalled.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
A Lasting Influence
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| Ernie Pyle at work in Normandy |
During the war, Pyle got just as dirty, every bit as grungy, just as filthy as those he wrote about, as he traveled with them. His weapon was his typewriter, and it did a great amount of damage to the Axis powers. During the war, Pyle also managed to get three books written, one of them, Brave Men, receiving the Pulitzer Prize. The final chapter of that sums up the entire war.
In it, Pyle states:"We did not win it because destiny created us better than all other peoples I hope that in victory we are more grateful than we are proud. I hope we can rejoice in victory-but humbly. The dead would not want us to gloat." He went on to say, "Submersion in war does not necessarily qualify a man to be a master of the peace. All we can do is fumble and try once more-try out of the memory of our anguish-and be as tolerant with each other as we can."
When playwright Arthur Miller was hired to write a screenplay based on Pyle's works, he met with the columnist, who was home from the war for a brief respite. Miller wanted to know what message Pyle was attempting to get across in his columns. No message-Pyle simply put down the facts. The two men didn't see eye to eye, but the film was eventually made by director William Wellman as The Story of G.I. Joe and would make a star out of Robert Mitchum. The movie's title was also the first time the phrase "G.I. Joe" was used.
Ernie Pyle never saw the picture. He was killed by a sniper on Okinawa on April 18, 1945. His last book was published posthumously and unfinished.
Yet his influence continues to this day. Ernie Pyle's books are still in print, and the name G.I. Joe resonates. A brand of toy continues to make it popular, and would never had done so, had the film based on his works not originated the phrase sixty-five years ago.
He hasn't been forgotten, nor should he be.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Popcorn Is Satanic
There are certain things one learns being a janitor. The first is that the general public does not treat a public area like they do their home. (A janitor always wants to track them down for revenge. If we could afford Fantasy Island, that is what we'd pay for.)
The second thing we know is to make your glass cleaner strong enough to keep people away. If you can smell it without opening the spray bottle - and it's still overpowering, that's about right. Do the same thing with bleach water. You may not have any nasal cavities left, but people will leave your spray bottles alone.
Third is that the ladies' room needs another name. Ladies do not use it. Women do. And yes, there is a difference. Anyone who calls women the weaker sex has never cleaned their restroom. That's all I'm going to say, as this is a blog for the entire family. I have stories, but it would make this an NC-17 blog.
Fourth: If the place where a janitor works has a snack bar, he's in trouble. Nine times out of ten, they have a popcorn machine. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the people who buy popcorn drop it on the floor, leaving trails ranging from ten to fifty feet. Or when they drop their popcorn bags and people take their shopping carts through it - - get the picture?
Number #5: A janitor's worst enemy are those (And don't you even dare tell me how cute they are!) toothbrush holders, etc. with the blue water that has the fake fish, etc. Ever drop one of those on the floor? Oilier than Congress and you have to throw away the mop head after you clean them up. Interestingly, the floor stays oily for twenty-four hours. You go through mop heads like tissue - - - and natch, your supplier sends you what he thinks you need. So by the time you finally get more mop heads, you've grown a full beard, and someone has dropped another thing with the #$%^& fishies.
I could go on, as this is the tip of the iceberg. As you shop this Christmas season, be nice to the janitors in the store. They're having a rough go of it just as much as the salespeople.
And remember to not drop your popcorn.
The second thing we know is to make your glass cleaner strong enough to keep people away. If you can smell it without opening the spray bottle - and it's still overpowering, that's about right. Do the same thing with bleach water. You may not have any nasal cavities left, but people will leave your spray bottles alone.
Third is that the ladies' room needs another name. Ladies do not use it. Women do. And yes, there is a difference. Anyone who calls women the weaker sex has never cleaned their restroom. That's all I'm going to say, as this is a blog for the entire family. I have stories, but it would make this an NC-17 blog.
Fourth: If the place where a janitor works has a snack bar, he's in trouble. Nine times out of ten, they have a popcorn machine. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the people who buy popcorn drop it on the floor, leaving trails ranging from ten to fifty feet. Or when they drop their popcorn bags and people take their shopping carts through it - - get the picture?
Number #5: A janitor's worst enemy are those (And don't you even dare tell me how cute they are!) toothbrush holders, etc. with the blue water that has the fake fish, etc. Ever drop one of those on the floor? Oilier than Congress and you have to throw away the mop head after you clean them up. Interestingly, the floor stays oily for twenty-four hours. You go through mop heads like tissue - - - and natch, your supplier sends you what he thinks you need. So by the time you finally get more mop heads, you've grown a full beard, and someone has dropped another thing with the #$%^& fishies.
I could go on, as this is the tip of the iceberg. As you shop this Christmas season, be nice to the janitors in the store. They're having a rough go of it just as much as the salespeople.
And remember to not drop your popcorn.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Have A Little Faith
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| A B-25 taking off of the U.S.S. Hornet during the raid |
Doolittle was devastated, considering the mission a failure. He told himself he'd be fortunate to get out of this unholy mess with life in Leavenworth. Paul Leonard, his mechanic approached him, letting him know four things: 1) Thing weren't as bad as they seemed. 2) Doolittle would have the Medal of Honor within a year. 3) He would also be a brigadier general. 4) Leonard hoped when all this happened, he could be Doolittle's crew chief..
Doolittle realized that someone had faith in him, and it bucked him up. He told the man that as long as he flew, that man would be his crew chief. Well, Doolittle did receive the Medal of Honor, and instead of receiving one star, got three.
Leonard stayed on with him, and died saving Doollittle's plane, running for a shell hole when a bomb hit it. All that was found of him was his arm and watch. It was probably the hardest letter Doolittle ever had to write, and the most personal loss of the war.
Even without his contribution to World War Two, Jimmy Doolittle would have gone down in history, due to his significant work in aviation. Paul Leonard, on the other hand, has had his name forgotten by history. You can be sure that Jimmy Doolittle never forgot him. The man was there when Doolittle needed him the most, letting him know things were going to be okay, to just have a little faith, even the size of a mustard seed.
After all, his mechanic did.
Friday, December 3, 2010
It's Just Life
I've had people ask what I do for hobbies. To be honest, I try not to tell them, as I know exactly the response I'm going to get. It's not that I'm secretive, but they won't believe me. So first off, I inform them of that - they aren't going to buy it. They think this is great, and it piques their curiosity. Finally, I have to tell them so they'll leave me alone. By the time I'm done, I have to explain what the majority of my hobbies means (Memorabilia and soundtracks make perfectly good sense to me, as do lobby cards.) Afterwards, those people ask, "But what do you do?"
I've noticed that from then on, those people have a tendency to avoid me, as either they think I have the plague or I'm the most eccentric person they're going to encounter in their lives. I have a pretty good idea as to which it is, if you want to know.
You know, though? I don't mind. I am so glad we're not all alike. Heck, if everyone had the exact same likes as me, can you imagine how much my movie memorabilia would be costing? No, thank you! Same with the books I'm managing to pick up for a penny. And if everyone wrote like me, well, Jimmy Butts wouldn't be writing his wonderful westerns. A disaster! I would hate it if all the world was like me: The world would be out of Mountain Dew!
Variety is wonderful. You see different people doing various things, some of them you admit wondering 'why,' but it's great to see the variety, nonetheless. People from all walks merging together, doing things, and that, my friends, is life.
So when you notice someone's a tad eccentric, or strange, nah. They're merely part of life.
I've noticed that from then on, those people have a tendency to avoid me, as either they think I have the plague or I'm the most eccentric person they're going to encounter in their lives. I have a pretty good idea as to which it is, if you want to know.
You know, though? I don't mind. I am so glad we're not all alike. Heck, if everyone had the exact same likes as me, can you imagine how much my movie memorabilia would be costing? No, thank you! Same with the books I'm managing to pick up for a penny. And if everyone wrote like me, well, Jimmy Butts wouldn't be writing his wonderful westerns. A disaster! I would hate it if all the world was like me: The world would be out of Mountain Dew!
Variety is wonderful. You see different people doing various things, some of them you admit wondering 'why,' but it's great to see the variety, nonetheless. People from all walks merging together, doing things, and that, my friends, is life.
So when you notice someone's a tad eccentric, or strange, nah. They're merely part of life.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
So Sue Me
This is the time of year when my friends, family, co-workers, and complete strangers all say the same thing to me: "I hate you." (I bet you thought it was going to be "Merry Christmas," didn't ya?")
I have to say I earn it.
No, I don't walk around like the Grinch with a piece of coal in my heart, and I don't sing 'Silent Night' off-key. (At least, not intentionally.)
It's just that I finished my Christmas shopping.
Last month.
Generally, I'm finished around July, but this has been a rough year for me. I've already received several e-mails from people who've received packages stating, "What do you mean, DO NOT OPEN UNTIL CHRISTMAS?" True, they did get them mid-November, but there is no way on God's Green Earth I'm tackling the Post Office in mid-December. Not for anyone or anything. (They should have been among the crowd I sent packages out to in July with that message out to on them. Oh, the nasty messages I received!)
Now, I work in a busy store. I see the 'fun' in Christmas shopping. About as much 'fun' as emergency surgery. That's why 95% of my shopping was online. Search, click, and zip. Hide it in the closet, and hopefully remember that it's there. (I need to follow Mom's example and start keeping items listed in a notebook. One year my nephew Jordan really had a bonanza due to my poor memory. Hey, he didn't mind!)
But as we all get tied up with gift-giving and what Aunt Hilda is going to want, we don't necessarily tie in our gifts to the individuals. I have fun doing so. I buy Christmas all year round, and already have one family member covered for next year.
Contact me for lessons.
I have to say I earn it.
No, I don't walk around like the Grinch with a piece of coal in my heart, and I don't sing 'Silent Night' off-key. (At least, not intentionally.)
It's just that I finished my Christmas shopping.
Last month.
Generally, I'm finished around July, but this has been a rough year for me. I've already received several e-mails from people who've received packages stating, "What do you mean, DO NOT OPEN UNTIL CHRISTMAS?" True, they did get them mid-November, but there is no way on God's Green Earth I'm tackling the Post Office in mid-December. Not for anyone or anything. (They should have been among the crowd I sent packages out to in July with that message out to on them. Oh, the nasty messages I received!)
Now, I work in a busy store. I see the 'fun' in Christmas shopping. About as much 'fun' as emergency surgery. That's why 95% of my shopping was online. Search, click, and zip. Hide it in the closet, and hopefully remember that it's there. (I need to follow Mom's example and start keeping items listed in a notebook. One year my nephew Jordan really had a bonanza due to my poor memory. Hey, he didn't mind!)
But as we all get tied up with gift-giving and what Aunt Hilda is going to want, we don't necessarily tie in our gifts to the individuals. I have fun doing so. I buy Christmas all year round, and already have one family member covered for next year.
Contact me for lessons.
Monday, November 29, 2010
A Broken Promise
As we've started off the holidays with Thanksgiving, December is rapidly creeping up on us. Thoughts of Christmas enter our heads, and we wonder what to get Aunt Martha, or Cousin Harold. We sorta wonder what our brothers and sisters are getting us, as we really don't need any more socks.
In between on December 7, we remember about halfway through the day - if we remember it at all - "Oh. This is Pearl Harbor Day."
Well, on this upcoming December 7, remember Ensign John Charles England. He was on board the U.S.S. Oklahoma when the attack started and had made it to topside. Remembering his friends in the radio room, he went back to save them. Ens. England made three trips, each time guiding a man to safety. The fourth time he went down, they had to close the hatch in order to prevent flooding. Those on the other side of the doors heard him saying, "Don't worry. I'll get us out of here." Sadly, it was not to be, and Ens. England lost his life attempting to save his friends. He was four days shy of his twenty-first birthday and had never seen his infant daughter.
His father Sam became a broken man upon hearing of his son's passing. The Navy would honor the ensign by naming a destroyer after him. Those on USS England DE-635 not only knew of the heritage of their name, but were proud of it, serving it well. In two weeks' time, they sank six enemy submarines, a record that is still unsurpassed. Admiral Halsey said, "May there always be an England. Well done and congratulations to all hands." Admiral King, Chief of all Naval Operations, promised, "There'll always be an England in the United State Navy." When it was decommissioned, it was replaced by the USS England DLG -22/CG-22, which was decommissioned in 1994.
Unfortunately, the Navy forgot Admiral King's promise and no England came along to replace it. But there is a drive by those who served on those ships to have another England on the seas, serving our nation once again. A promise was made in the name of our nation, and it should be kept. John Charles England is honored every year by his high school, he has web sites, but let his country continue to remember him.
So pass this along. Print it up and send it to those in Congress, with your contact information.
Let's get another U.S.S. England in the Navy. A promise is a promise, no matter how long ago it was.
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| Ensign John Charles England |
In between on December 7, we remember about halfway through the day - if we remember it at all - "Oh. This is Pearl Harbor Day."
Well, on this upcoming December 7, remember Ensign John Charles England. He was on board the U.S.S. Oklahoma when the attack started and had made it to topside. Remembering his friends in the radio room, he went back to save them. Ens. England made three trips, each time guiding a man to safety. The fourth time he went down, they had to close the hatch in order to prevent flooding. Those on the other side of the doors heard him saying, "Don't worry. I'll get us out of here." Sadly, it was not to be, and Ens. England lost his life attempting to save his friends. He was four days shy of his twenty-first birthday and had never seen his infant daughter.
His father Sam became a broken man upon hearing of his son's passing. The Navy would honor the ensign by naming a destroyer after him. Those on USS England DE-635 not only knew of the heritage of their name, but were proud of it, serving it well. In two weeks' time, they sank six enemy submarines, a record that is still unsurpassed. Admiral Halsey said, "May there always be an England. Well done and congratulations to all hands." Admiral King, Chief of all Naval Operations, promised, "There'll always be an England in the United State Navy." When it was decommissioned, it was replaced by the USS England DLG -22/CG-22, which was decommissioned in 1994.
Unfortunately, the Navy forgot Admiral King's promise and no England came along to replace it. But there is a drive by those who served on those ships to have another England on the seas, serving our nation once again. A promise was made in the name of our nation, and it should be kept. John Charles England is honored every year by his high school, he has web sites, but let his country continue to remember him.
So pass this along. Print it up and send it to those in Congress, with your contact information.
Let's get another U.S.S. England in the Navy. A promise is a promise, no matter how long ago it was.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
An Influential Man
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| Larry Blake in High Noon |
But his work as a character was not why he was one of Hollywood's most influential people ever. He just happened to found the first chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous the town had.
Of course, in order to get the chapter started, Larry was a recovering alcoholic. His problems had been noticed and he had been confronted by someone who cared enough to let him know he had a problem. In turn, he realized something needed to be done. He cared enough to quit drinking, and in time, Larry started a chapter of AA in Hollywood. Over time, people would come to him for advice concerning those they cared about.
John Ford, who was known to pull a cork, put together a group from Hollywood for a play in order to raise funds for charity. Larry Blake was among the cast, as was Pat O'Brien, one of Hollywood's biggest drinkers. O'Brien loved teasing Larry about his sobriety, and when they were on the train, he mentioned to a priest in the car about Larry being an AA member. The priest replied, "What chapter? I belong to one in Milwaukee." O'Brien was silent the rest of the trip.
Larry was asked to talk to a particular actor in regards to the man's alcoholism, and he told those who'd asked him he would, but if this actor didn't want to be talked to, it wouldn't help. He went to the set where the man worked, and the star was friendly and open. At the end of the talk, the man said, "Larry, I appreciate it, but I really don't have a problem." A year later, Errol Flynn was dead. Larry knew what was going to happen, but still he gave it his best shot. He would have done it for anyone.
There were many people in the Hollywood area who were able to sober up due to that chapter Larry Blake started up. But he didn't do it for the accolades. He didn't do it for the attention. Larry did it as someone did it for him, and it was his turn to reciprocate.
His influence will live stretch far longer than those whose names are better known than Larry's. Those who knew him are proudest of him for this achievement, and rightfully so.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Is Your Stick Straight?
In a recent blog dealing with justification, I mentioned that Steven Judd's 'stick was straight,' and someone asked me what that meant. Ironically, I got that term from a 1950 movie, Stars In My Crown, which stars Joel McCrea. You may recall McCrea was the actor who portrayed Steven Judd.
In the film, Ellen Drew (who always played a woman I wanted to marry) tells of how she had many suitors, and yet turned them all down. Her mother became exapasperated, telling her of a child who went into the forest looking for a perfectly straight stick. The child spent all day looking for this stick, never finding it. All the child managed to do was become lost. The mother told her, "You're looking for a straight stick." Yet when she met Josiah Gray (McCrea), she knew she'd found her 'straight stick.'
Steven Judd's stick was justification, and he found it. Others have different sticks. With some it might be love, and others power. A few, it might be a goal for a sports team. Those particular sticks won't be straight, as rarely are they undefeated. We need to be careful what we set as our sticks, our goals. The phrase "Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it," is more than an adage," but a pearl of wisdom.
What is your stick? And is it one that when it's obtained, will it be a straight one?
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| Dean Stockwell, Joel McCrea and Juano Hernandez in Stars In My Crown |
Steven Judd's stick was justification, and he found it. Others have different sticks. With some it might be love, and others power. A few, it might be a goal for a sports team. Those particular sticks won't be straight, as rarely are they undefeated. We need to be careful what we set as our sticks, our goals. The phrase "Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it," is more than an adage," but a pearl of wisdom.
What is your stick? And is it one that when it's obtained, will it be a straight one?
Friday, November 19, 2010
Never Count `Em Out
I am one of those who use the line they are an individual of many talents, but a master of none of them. Writing is something I've loved to do since I was a child. The first novel I ever started I never finished. It was entitled Two Plus Two Equals Five and dealt with a detective named Herman Showalski who made Inspector Clouseau look brilliant. One of these days, I need to return to the adventures of Herman. I miss him at times.
In this era of computers, ipods, Kindles, etc., we wonder . . . why bother trying? Everything is going to be on a handheld device before you can even get it to an agent. There's no sense in attempting to give it a shot, correct?
Wrong. According to a well-known literary agent I listened to this past spring, books will always be with us. The reason? Technology is always attempting to better itself. One-upmanship has to come along with its doo-hickeys and have more things on its item than the competitor's gadget that just came out last week. And the item you bought to read on just yesterday? Why, it's already outdated. So you eagerly anticipate the latest version and send your 'old' version to someone else as a Christmas present. And they're not that pleased, as this three month old gadget is a piece of junk as far as they're concerned.
But a book . . it's always there. The same as it has been for centuries. And there's nothing like the feel of it. It actually takes ten percent less time to read a novel on the written page than it does on a Kindle. This way, you get to start on another book that much quicker. Some things are best left the way they originally were. Books are one of them.
In this era of computers, ipods, Kindles, etc., we wonder . . . why bother trying? Everything is going to be on a handheld device before you can even get it to an agent. There's no sense in attempting to give it a shot, correct?
Wrong. According to a well-known literary agent I listened to this past spring, books will always be with us. The reason? Technology is always attempting to better itself. One-upmanship has to come along with its doo-hickeys and have more things on its item than the competitor's gadget that just came out last week. And the item you bought to read on just yesterday? Why, it's already outdated. So you eagerly anticipate the latest version and send your 'old' version to someone else as a Christmas present. And they're not that pleased, as this three month old gadget is a piece of junk as far as they're concerned.
But a book . . it's always there. The same as it has been for centuries. And there's nothing like the feel of it. It actually takes ten percent less time to read a novel on the written page than it does on a Kindle. This way, you get to start on another book that much quicker. Some things are best left the way they originally were. Books are one of them.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Justification
One of my favorite Westerns is 1962's Ride the High Country. Randolph Scott and Joel McCrea are two older lawman who are ending their days guarding a gold shipment. Scott's Gil Westrum intends on stealing it, and wants his comrade in on it. He mentions all the hardships of the past and the ingratitude, asking, "Is that what you want?" McCrea's Steven Judd replies, "All I want is to enter my house justified."
Not given the proper publicity by MGM, Ride the High Country started to die at the box office, but something happened. The critics managed to find this film, and gave it raves. As a result, Ride the High Country became a hit. In his book Alternate Oscars, Danny Peary picks it as his best film of 1962 over Lawrence of Arabia.
What is so special about Ride the High Country? It's just a Western, right? So the teaming of Scott and McCrea might be special to Western buffs, but aside from that, no big deal. And it's Sam Peckinpah in his early years for those who like him.
Those are a few facts, but that is nothing that makes a person like the film. It's the script. When Judd states his life's goal, you realize this is not your ordinary film. It's a morality Western, one that Peckinpah would never make again. Steven Judd is no fool. He knows what his partner is attempting, and at the same time, Judd tries to reform him. In between is Westrum's friend Heck, who follows him but begins to admire Judd.
All throughout the film, Judd never loses his convictions. He is steadfast, like a rock. I miss the Steven Judds of the cinema. As a movie fan, I often get into online discussions as to if we could be any character in film, who would we be? I always reply 'Steven Judd.' Someone once pointed out that he'd had a sad life, losing the woman he'd loved, etc. I said all of this was true, but his stick was straight, and he was the most admirable person in filmdom I could think of. Also, he'd accomplished his one goal.
Steven Judd will always be my cinemtaic hero.
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| Randolph Scott and Joel McCrea in the finale of Ride the High Country |
What is so special about Ride the High Country? It's just a Western, right? So the teaming of Scott and McCrea might be special to Western buffs, but aside from that, no big deal. And it's Sam Peckinpah in his early years for those who like him.
Those are a few facts, but that is nothing that makes a person like the film. It's the script. When Judd states his life's goal, you realize this is not your ordinary film. It's a morality Western, one that Peckinpah would never make again. Steven Judd is no fool. He knows what his partner is attempting, and at the same time, Judd tries to reform him. In between is Westrum's friend Heck, who follows him but begins to admire Judd.
All throughout the film, Judd never loses his convictions. He is steadfast, like a rock. I miss the Steven Judds of the cinema. As a movie fan, I often get into online discussions as to if we could be any character in film, who would we be? I always reply 'Steven Judd.' Someone once pointed out that he'd had a sad life, losing the woman he'd loved, etc. I said all of this was true, but his stick was straight, and he was the most admirable person in filmdom I could think of. Also, he'd accomplished his one goal.
Steven Judd will always be my cinemtaic hero.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Take A Stand
Most Americans have never heard of Sophie Scholl. Yet in Germany she is regarded as highly as Joan of Arc is in France. Sophie and her brother Hans were member of the White Rose, an underground group that distributed anti-Hitler literature at the university. Unfortunately, they were captured and interrogated.
During this time, both Hans and Sophie refused to give out information on their comrades, insisting they did all the work themselves. Sophie especially impressed her interrogators with her intelligence and when she was informed that if she would say that Hans had coerced her into this action, she would get off with a lighter sentence. Not only did she refuse to do so, she let the Nazis know she was proud of what she had done. The judge at her trial was a maniac, and well known for being so. When she was allowed to make a statement before her sentencing, Sophie said to him that someday soon, he would be standing where she was.
Generally, a defendant was given 99 days to appeal their sentence. Between their arrest and executions, Hans and Sophie had a total of three. The Nazis realized what a powerful propaganda weapon freedom had in the Scholls, and they wanted to get rid of them as quickly as possible. And in doing so, they thought they won.
But Hans and Sophie, in their deaths, won. They made a stand, showing that while they weren't looking forward to what was happening, they preferred death to living under Nazism, something their interrogators couldn't understand. They became martyrs for freedom throughout the world, and their final pamphlet, smuggled out of the country, was dropped over Germany several years later by Allied bombers.
The Scholls and others like them were resolute in their convictions, and inspirations for those fighting the Axis powers. You don't have to be a freedom fighter to be an inspiration, but merely stand up for the right thing. Many times, it's not the easy one to do, but the right choice often is not.
As the Aaron Tippin song goes, "You've got to stand for something, or you'll fall for anything."
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| Sophie Scholl |
During this time, both Hans and Sophie refused to give out information on their comrades, insisting they did all the work themselves. Sophie especially impressed her interrogators with her intelligence and when she was informed that if she would say that Hans had coerced her into this action, she would get off with a lighter sentence. Not only did she refuse to do so, she let the Nazis know she was proud of what she had done. The judge at her trial was a maniac, and well known for being so. When she was allowed to make a statement before her sentencing, Sophie said to him that someday soon, he would be standing where she was.
Generally, a defendant was given 99 days to appeal their sentence. Between their arrest and executions, Hans and Sophie had a total of three. The Nazis realized what a powerful propaganda weapon freedom had in the Scholls, and they wanted to get rid of them as quickly as possible. And in doing so, they thought they won.
But Hans and Sophie, in their deaths, won. They made a stand, showing that while they weren't looking forward to what was happening, they preferred death to living under Nazism, something their interrogators couldn't understand. They became martyrs for freedom throughout the world, and their final pamphlet, smuggled out of the country, was dropped over Germany several years later by Allied bombers.
The Scholls and others like them were resolute in their convictions, and inspirations for those fighting the Axis powers. You don't have to be a freedom fighter to be an inspiration, but merely stand up for the right thing. Many times, it's not the easy one to do, but the right choice often is not.
As the Aaron Tippin song goes, "You've got to stand for something, or you'll fall for anything."
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Don't Quit
Hollywood has known its share of tragedies: Judy Garland, Marilyn Monroe, and Susan Peters to name a few.
Susan Peters doesn't get the attention the others do. She'd received an Oscar nomination for her performance as Kitty in 1942's Random Harvest. Three years later, she was hunting with her husband, actor Richard Quine when a rifle accidentally discharged and she was paralyzed from the waist down. The studio, which paid for her bills, eventually cancelled her contract. In 1947, she divorced Quine, the majority of people saying she didn't want to be a burden to him.
In 1952, she passed away at the age of 31. The coroner's report said it was a combination of kidney disease and anorexia. But they were wrong.
Susan Peters had simply quit. With her career over, she felt she no longer was productive. Therefore, she wasn't useful, so why bother?
Quitting is one of the easiest things in the world to do. It's also one of the most selfish. We quit due to the fact we "can't take it any more," but we forget about the other examples that suffered far greater examples.
Look at the British after Dunkirk. They have every right to throw in the towel. But they had a secret weapon no one realized: Spunk. Everyone knew the Germans would be coming, and Churchill merely said,
"We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France,
we shall fight on the seas and oceans,
we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be,
we shall fight on the beaches,
we shall fight on the landing grounds,
we shall fight in the fields and in the streets,
we shall fight in the hills;
we shall never surrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Island or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British Fleet, would carry on the struggle, until, in God's good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old."
Consider the position of the United States on December 7, 1941. At the day's end, they had every right to call it quits. Instead, they persevered, coming together and forming the greatest team ever assembled.
In 1914, the Boston Braves were in last place. They were the joke of the National League, and everyone thought the New York Giants had the pennant in the bag. By the end of the season, the Braves had not only won the pennant, they swept the Philadelphia Athletics in the World Series.
Thirty-seven years later, the New York Giants were thirteen and a half games behind the Brooklyn Dodgers. At the end of the season, the two teams were tied and the Giants won a three game playoff in the bottom of the ninth of the last game. Like the British, the U.S., the Braves, they didn't quit.
During the Great Depression, my grandfather had to work three jobs to feed his family. He'd come home with his hands covered with dye and cry, wondering if he was going to be able to feed his family. Yet in the early 1950s, he and his sons started their own business. He never quit.
Quit is one of the worst four letter words in the English language, and it is also one of the worst things a person can do to themselves. In another speech, Churchill merely said, "Never give in. Never, ever give in."
Our generation is soft compared to those who came before us. We want to drop out, to quit, because it's the easy thing to do. The easy road is often lined with more potholes than we realize.
 |
| Susan Peters in Random Harvest |
In 1952, she passed away at the age of 31. The coroner's report said it was a combination of kidney disease and anorexia. But they were wrong.
Susan Peters had simply quit. With her career over, she felt she no longer was productive. Therefore, she wasn't useful, so why bother?
Quitting is one of the easiest things in the world to do. It's also one of the most selfish. We quit due to the fact we "can't take it any more," but we forget about the other examples that suffered far greater examples.
Look at the British after Dunkirk. They have every right to throw in the towel. But they had a secret weapon no one realized: Spunk. Everyone knew the Germans would be coming, and Churchill merely said,
"We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France,
we shall fight on the seas and oceans,
we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be,
we shall fight on the beaches,
we shall fight on the landing grounds,
we shall fight in the fields and in the streets,
we shall fight in the hills;
we shall never surrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Island or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British Fleet, would carry on the struggle, until, in God's good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old."
Consider the position of the United States on December 7, 1941. At the day's end, they had every right to call it quits. Instead, they persevered, coming together and forming the greatest team ever assembled.
In 1914, the Boston Braves were in last place. They were the joke of the National League, and everyone thought the New York Giants had the pennant in the bag. By the end of the season, the Braves had not only won the pennant, they swept the Philadelphia Athletics in the World Series.
Thirty-seven years later, the New York Giants were thirteen and a half games behind the Brooklyn Dodgers. At the end of the season, the two teams were tied and the Giants won a three game playoff in the bottom of the ninth of the last game. Like the British, the U.S., the Braves, they didn't quit.
During the Great Depression, my grandfather had to work three jobs to feed his family. He'd come home with his hands covered with dye and cry, wondering if he was going to be able to feed his family. Yet in the early 1950s, he and his sons started their own business. He never quit.
Quit is one of the worst four letter words in the English language, and it is also one of the worst things a person can do to themselves. In another speech, Churchill merely said, "Never give in. Never, ever give in."
Our generation is soft compared to those who came before us. We want to drop out, to quit, because it's the easy thing to do. The easy road is often lined with more potholes than we realize.
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