Reviews of books that have held my interest. And things that happen along the way.
I have made it simpler to leave a comment. Just hit the comment selection and choose anonymous at the bottom- Or at my yahoo;
robertrswwilliams@yahoo.com
And let's not forget my friends at the Public Libraries!Most of my selections come from the Libraries listed on my sidebar. They are a great resource and a wonderful use of our tax dollars.
Have you hugged a Librarian today?
I only took this book out of the library because I was
interested in Richard Williams’ early life growing up in Shreveport, Louisiana
in the 1950’s. He was born there in 1942 and by his teen aged years was a
justifiably angry young black man with very little hope for a secure future. At
least that’s the way it would’ve worked out if not for two things; a strong
mother and a commitment to break away from the expected outcome of his life.
On that level the book delivered beautifully, living up to
my every expectation. But the real surprise of this book was that it was able
to hold my attention all the way through his daughters winning their celebrated
championships.
But the meat of this book is in the fact that Mr. Williams;
no relation to me; had the idea of creating the award winning sisters before
they were even born. He was married at the time to the woman he loved and was
raising 3 step children with her. Life was perfect. Many people do not realize
that Mr. Williams was already a very successful businessman before his
daughters became champions. He owned a cleaning service, a car wash and some
real estate. Before he was 30 he had amassed around $800,000 before giving it
all away.
Watching TV one day with his adopted daughters he saw a
young woman winning $20,000 for a tennis match. He was instantly seized with
the vision of raising 2 girls to become champion players. His adopted children
were too old at the time to train adequately. So he proposed the idea of having
2 more daughters to his wife. Whether she believed in the idea, or was just enthusiastic
about “trying” we will never know for sure.
Shortly after the girls were born, about a year and a half
apart, Mr. Williams moved his family from a comfortable home in Long Beach to
the crack infested neighborhood of Compton in Los Angeles. He wanted his
daughters to be strong and independent, and to that end he showed them the
prostitutes, the drug slingers, the gangs hanging on the corners; all in an
effort to show them what they should aspire not to be.
He literally fought the street gangs to regain control of
the local park tennis courts; which were on the “turf” of the gangs. He lost 10
teeth and had countless ribs cracked; and he even chased them down with a
shotgun before finally winning.
In short; this is a book which will surprise you. If you
think you know enough about Venus and Serena Williams from reading the
headlines and the magazines; think again. Until you have gotten to know their
father, you haven’t even scratched the surface.
In this; one of the wildest 3 Stooges films ever made; “They Stooge to Conga”; which doubled as a wartime propaganda film; the
Stooges are out of work and stumble upon a job fixing a broken doorbell. The
work is at a German home which serves as a front for a Nazi spy ring.
The boys find the trouble with the bell; along with other
unanticipated troubles involving their customers. What makes this film stand
out the most from all the other Stooges films is this 3 minute sequence; which
is “active” even in comparison to most of their other antics.
The Three Stooges is more of a “guy” thing than for women. I
have rarely met women who truly enjoy the slapstick genre of comedy. It’s just
a genetic difference, I’m sure. And, as in most things which concern men and
women; I say, “Vivre le difference!”
Have you heard about the clown stalking the streets of
Northampton, England? He’s causing quite a stir among the populace there by
dressing up as a clown and standing on street corners. Sounds harmless to me,
but his actions have generated a bit of paranoia which seems to be centered
around a character named “Pennywise” from a Stephen King novel involving a
clown. Having never read the book I can’t really comment much on that aspect of
the situation.
I guess my biggest concern is for the safety of the clown.
The people there are ready to break out the pitchforks and torches in a scene
reminiscent of “Frankenstein”, in order to be rid of the clown. He even has his
own Facebook page, which I have visited. Here is the link;
The comments range from amusement and bemusement, to
outright paranoia. I posted my take on it all, opining that if the Stephen King
movies make you that uncomfortable, perhaps you should seek entertainment elsewhere.
It’s also interesting to note that no one seems to mind protestors
wearing bandanas to obscure their identities while they destroy private
property; nor is there an outcry over the increasing use of ski masks by law
enforcement while depriving people of their rights when they bust up demonstrations,
along with a head or two in the bargain.
I’m afraid we have all gotten a bit too sensitive. With all
of the random violence in the world I suppose a bit of caution is
understandable. But at the same time, I have to wonder about those who would be
frightened by the mere presence of a clown standing on the corner. And then, of
course, I feel sorry for them; locked in a world of fear.
Today is the anniversary of the Altamont Speedway Concert
which featured the stabbing death of Meredith Hunter by Hell’s Angel Sonny
Barger, who would later serve time for the crime he committed that day. It was
supposed to be the wrap up to the Rolling Stones 1969 tour; a kind of present
to their fans. It was organized by Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead, along
with their friends in the Oakland and San Francisco chapters of the infamous motorcycle
“club.” When Jerry Garcia and his band showed up early on and felt the vibes;
and saw the violence already taking place; they fled. The other scheduled acts
chose to honor their commitments, albeit under arduous circumstances.
Several things were working against the success of the
concert form the outset. First, there was the fact that the concert was too
hastily organized. The next mistake was in building a low platform, rather than
a stage; again due to time constraints; which made the situation volatile from
the very opening act. The main problem with a low platform when having such
high end acts as the Rolling Stones, Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin; and even
the newly minted Crosby Stills, Nash and Young; is that every one of the
audience; in this case almost 500,000 people; have access to the stage. This
creates a need for aggressive security, and that is exactly what happened at
Altamont.
One of the myths about the concert involves the Rolling
Stones providing the beer for the Hell’s Angels as payment to be security for
the band. The truth is that Sam Cutler; who was acting as the road manager for the
Stones; bought the beer back from the Angels due to their drunken and violent behavior.
The fact that they were able to recoup the beer later was no fault of the
Stones at all.
The concert was the antithesis of Woodstock, with people
charging outlandish prices for water and other essentials. The crowd of 500,000
was cowed by the actions of 500 bikers, whom the artists were unable to
control. The only one to really take any action was Marty Balin of the
Jefferson Airplane, who actually hit one of the Angels and was knocked out for
his trouble.
The Rolling Stone’s film “Gimme Shelter” is the best record
of the concert at Altamont Speedway. It shows the apathy which allowed a relatively
small band of bikers to take control of a concert and exert their will on what
should have been a joyous event. It was; in short; the end of the Woodstock
Era. 120 days. See Charlie Watts reaction to the stabbing the following morning here in a scene from "Gimme Shelter";
_______________________________________________
For All the Kids at Pease Elementary School
This is for all the
kids at Pease Elementary School on West Avenue in Austin, TX who were told by
an afterschool teacher that there is no Santa Claus. The "Grinch" then proceeded
to instruct the 5 year old kindergartners to go home and confront their parents
about the issue. The phone number at the school is(512) 414-4428. I called them earlier and
left a hearty “HO-Ho-Ho!” on their answering machine to assure them that Santa
was real. I hope my readers will all do the same. In the meantime, here is the
famous written proof concerning the matter of whether or not there is a Santa
Claus.
When 8 year-old Virginia O'Hanlon wrote a letter to the
editor of New York's Sun in September of 1897, the editor, Francis Pharcellus
Church, quickly responded to her query concerning the reality of Santa Claus. It
is one of the most reprinted editorials in the history of journalism. Here is
the text of that letter, as well as the timeless response. Let’s hope they read
this in Austin!
"Dear Editor,
I am 8 years old. Some of my friends say there is no Santa
Claus. Papa says if you see it in the Sun, it’s so. Please tell me the truth;
is there a Santa Claus?”
Virginia O’Hanlon
115 West 59th Street
Here is the reply she received
on the Editorial page of the New York Sun on September 21, 1897;
VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been
affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they
see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little
minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In
this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as
compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence
capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as
certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they
abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would
be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there
were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance
to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense
and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be
extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in
fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on
Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus
coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no
sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those
that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the
lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can
conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the
world.
You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the
noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the
strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever
lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push
aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond.
Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and
abiding.
No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A
thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now,
he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
"Punch his eyes out! Slam his head on the ground! Throw him punches, son! Knock him out!" These are the words Philip Struthers used, he says, in order to encourage his son last week in a fight over a girl. His son, who was not charged, is 15.
"I regret having gotten caught up in the heat of the moment" says the elder Mr. Struthers, 41, of Tampa, the boys father. But truth be told he simply regrets that it was the wrong moment, and of course, that he got caught.
"I was encouraging my son to settle the issue", says Mr. Struthers. I wonder if he ever thought that encouraging his son to "Slam his head on the ground", would be discouraging to the other 15 year old involved in the incident? Quite simply, one must wonder if he thinks at all?
