Looking for Significance

 

In case you do not recognize this fellow, he is Neil Young, Canada's most famous aging 'Rocker'. I have always been a fan of his music 

 and have, with difficulty, managed to separate his musical and lyrical talent from his person. We all have people in our lives that we admire, either for their character, their contribution, their personality, or their talents. Because no person is a complete package, we often tend to overlook the bad and appreciate the good. So it is for me with Neil Young.

He is in the news in a big way since his public stand, on Sunday, against the Athabasca Oil Sands.

Endorsements by very public figures work in the advertising industry. That is why celebrities and sports icons get paid the big dollars for doing ads for various products. That is also why many will be influenced by Young's acid comments against our government and the oil industry in Canada.  

When celebrities jump on some bandwagon, we can expect hyperbole and we get it from Young in spades. "The tar sands are worse than Hiroshima" and "the Harper government has no integrity" are comments that are over the top but do get attention.

Why would Young, a famous and rich musician who was born in Canada but had not lived here for the last 43 years suddenly show up on our doorstep and get involved in a Canadian issue when there are so many grievous issues in the USA that he could address?

 

He is not getting any younger and as a man ages, and has accomplished some personal goals, he begins to look for significance as he realizes his life in its fading years. As a secular humanist, and I have no evidence to suggest that he is not one, he is probably trying to do something of enduring value before he dies. He believes that this is an issue that is important and has taken the side that opposes it. I will not get into that debate, but rather simply suggest that he probably would like to see the oil sands shut down and then die knowing he had a significant hand in helping that to come about.

I strongly disagree with him, but will still enjoy his music.   

 

 

Canadian Literature

 

Stephen Leacock, Canada's own literary humorist, wrote this series of short stories in 1912. It is a representation of a typical Canadian small town with its quirky characters and situations that are supposedly held in common with many other towns like it. The fictional town is called Mariposa and it has its business people, bankers, hotel owners, clergy, and its own local attractions.

After reading Leacock's own introduction, I thought I was in for a real treat. I was a bit disappointed, but did find two of the stories particularly engaging and quite funny, the incident of the sinking of the steamer ship "Mariposa Belle", which takes a hilarious twist near the end, and the general elections in Mariposa.

It is turn of the 20th century stuff, a bit before my time, but having grown up in typical prairie town in the mid 20th century, I had a difficult time identifying with the characters and situations. Maybe there has always been a disparity between east and west in our great country because I felt that the stories had a distinctive eastern feel to them.

3 stars  

 

Iraq

 

I have posted many book and movie reviews lately because I have been reading many books lately. I hope the posts have been helpful in choosing a book for your own enjoyment.

Davis Bunn is a prolific author having sold more than 6 million copies in his career. I had never heard of him or his books until I picked up "Lion of Babylon" in the Kindle online bookstore.

It is evident that either Mr. Bunn has lived or travelled extensively in Iraq, or his research is very thorough.

The story revolves around a former government agent who is recruited to find and rescue 4 missing persons in post Saddam Iraq. What is impressive about the story is how it immerses the reader into the fear, anxiety, and danger of a city under siege by tribalism, religious wars, and various factions of Muslims all vying for the power trip of forming a new government in the war torn Middle East country.

What is not impressive is the way the story and characters do not draw in the reader to really care. There is character development, and plenty of back story, but it all seems a bit disjointed with too  many characters. At the bottom of the story is the underlying idea that it is impossible for the different factions to come any kind of agreement without trust and some commonality. The feuds and factions have existed for thousands of years and cannot be dissolved in a few days, like the story portrays. The commonality and answer to the dilemma is a common faith in Jesus and as portrayed in the story, it works. Not Christianity, but the person of Jesus. There are too many histrionics and too much baggage attached to Christianity as a general term to create any good will. It is a different take in a mostly secular book. I suppose one could call this genre Christian Fiction, but it is not overtly so.  

I just wish Mr. Bunn was a better writer.

2 1/2 stars 

Injustice Upon Injustice

 

Solomon Northup was a Mulatto, (first generation offspring of a black and a white) a successful businessman, a husband and father, a musician, and a freeman living in New York state. This is his memoir of how he was kidnapped in Washington DC and sold into slavery in the deep south.

        Solomon is very articulate and depicts his circumstances both as free and slave, in a very compelling way. As the story progresses, the reader gets angry at the injustice of it all, and the inability of Solomon to right the great wrong that has been done to him. One can only be amazed at the discrepancy between Christian faith and Christian action by some of the characters, but, fortunately, not all of  them. I was so strongly reminded of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' which I read recently. There is a similarity, and, of course, a common theme that runs through both books.

The story has a brisk pace, and is so well written that one would almost think it was written in our modern day, but was actually written by Solomon upon his return to his family in 1853.

A most enjoyable and enlightening read which I highly recommend and deserves

5 stars.

Iron Mask

 

The real man in the iron mask is the subject of much historical speculation, but Alexander Dumas has written a novel which theorizes that this man was the older twin brother of King Louis XIV of France and was hidden away by his mother. The novel is the last in the "Three Musketeers" series and it finds the 4 protagonists in middle age, but still vital and going concerns in their own fields of endeavour.

Aramis, the more learned and intellectual of the musketeers, hatches a plot to exchange the imprisoned twin brother for the real king. The writing and the plot are pure genius and one marvels at the myriad twists and turns in the story and how they are so skillfully developed by Dumas. The banter between characters is nothing short of brilliant in its mastery of the language and its wit.

But as in the "Three Musketeers", the author gets off on rabbit trips and they can be lengthy and verbose as in the described relationship of Athos and his son Raoul. 

There is a rousing bit of action when Aramis and Porthos are attempting an escape from their isle of banishment. These aging musketeers have not lost their skills or bravery. 

The story is mostly about the workings of the court of Louis XIV. It is not an easy task to keep tabs on all the characters and the intrigues of the court which are head games taken to an extreme, where every word and every nuance is pregnant with meaning and portent. 

It is a long book and I was disappointed in the end. The plot of the man in the iron mask reaches a dead end half way through the book and is never mentioned again. All but one of the protagonists meets with their demise, and it is almost as if Dumas ran out of time and ideas and the book just fizzles out like a guttering candle. 

Had the ending been more satisfying, I would have given this book  4 1/2 stars but having spent so much time reading it and getting, in the end, not a whole lot of resolution, I will give it a generous 4 stars    

Knights of Old

 

I can cross off another classic on my 'To Read' list. There is a lot of familiar territory in this story by Sir Walter Scott, but the language is not familiar. It is written in old English and on my Kindle e-reader I have a great feature that lets me look up the definition of a word by simply hovering over it with the cursor. At least half the time I was drawing a blank on the obscure words that are no longer in use today. It was a struggle at times, but overall, the story is very good.

We find such familiar characters as Robert of Loxley (Robin Hood) Friar Tuck, bad king John, Good king Richard and a host of others that have been portrayed over the years in other literature and more recently in the movies. There is plenty of jousting, thievery, archery, castle sieges, battles, racial prejudice, humour, honour, heroes and villains. These old classic authors used words and ideas in a very clever way and I am always impressed with the mastery of style used to tell the story. There may at times seem to be too many words, but what that does is give the characters and plot a lot of depth. One of the themes, for example, is the prejudice against Jews in that day. They were needed as money lenders, but otherwise were hated and despised without restraint. To counterbalance that evil, the most redemptive character in the story is a Jewess.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this classic and would give it 4 1/2 stars.  

 

 

Slavery

 

I have a post scheduled for January 10 where I revue a book I read recently called "Twelve Years a Slave" by Solomon Northup. I will not give any of those ramblings away, save to say that I saw the movie on Sunday night. I tend to see the movie after I read the book, not the other way around.

A few minutes into the opening scenes, I am saying to busylizzy, "That's not in the book."  I had to say that a few times, but by the end, I got the impression that overall, the movie was quite true to the book. Of course, not all the detail and plot can be squeezed into a movie, but I was impressed with the way the atmosphere was so accurately reproduced. The fear, suffering, cruelty, hopelessness, and then the unspeakable joy at the end are well portrayed. I was re-living the emotions brought on by Solomon's memoirs, and as I did while reading the book, I had tears come to my eyes a few times during the movie. I recommended the book and I also recommend the movie, as graphic as it is. But, I am still scratching my head about the final scene in the movie which had a glaring inaccuracy. Why? It did not add anything to the real story except for a bit of fiction that was not needed. The true ending is satisfying enough and quite amazing without this little falsehood.

4 stars   

Frontier Days

 

Zane Grey is known for his western and frontier books which depicted idealized pioneering and adventure in the old west. He lived from 1872 to 1939, authoring more than 90 books. He was very influential in forming our modern day ideas on what the old west was all about. He has many critics in that regard. His stories have been adapted into more that 112 movies or TV series.

 

  This story, The Last Trail, is about a father and daughter who travel to the Ohio River Valley and encounter a few problems common to folks who were trying to establish themselves in 'Indian territory'. They encounter two fellows who are a breed of men set apart because of their incredible bush savvy and propensity to violence. Rustlers and renegade Indians, beware.  These two  'good guys' become close friends and the adventures that ensue are full of intrigue, suspense, and violence. There is a strong romantic aspect to this novel and at times I thought I was reading a Harlequin Romance, but there was enough machismo to keep me going to the end. It is an easy read. I am wondering if a Zane Grey novel qualifies as a classic. As an author he certainly has had popularity (he became the first millionaire author)  and longevity, and his ability to describe the unspoiled wilderness of the day is classic, but the stories are light fare for the most part. I suppose one could say he is a vital link the development of American literature and how it formed the 'idea of America'.  

3 stars 

Jungle Fire

 

Little did we know what each day would hold as we arose to greet the rising sun. On this day, about mid-vacation, we were visiting beside the pool with some new friends from Whitby Ontario when I noticed billows of white smoke rising behind block six.

 

I grabbed my camera and we climbed the back stairs of the hotel block where the hallways were open to the southeast, and we would have a clear view of source of the smoke. There, in a gully that runs perpendicular to the small road adjoining the resorts, was a raging fire, no doubt the result of a tossed butt.

 

This area consists of dry jungle and had it not been for heavy rains in November, this whole area would have gone up like a torch. As it was, it burned hot and slow, with only a slight breeze off the water.

 

We were not concerned for the hotel as there was quite a wide buffer between the fire and the all concrete construction hotel. Maybe that it why there was such a slow response. In all, there were probably 20 acres or more involved by the end and a lot of scorched trees, which were showing up brown by the end of the following week. It took a good 30 minutes before the first responders arrived on scene, and they were not well equipped. The equipment was make up of a red pick-up with two girls and a large water jug, two 'firefighters' who were flogging the edges of the fire with wet rags, and eventually a police car and one tanker truck with a very effective high pressure hose on the front bumper.  

 

They worked away at the fire for the rest of the afternoon and would leave every twenty minutes to re-fill the water tank. Eventually, by early evening, they left with the fire still smouldering in spots. Three days latter they were still putting out hot spots. In Canada, one sweep with a water bomber would taken care of it in the first few minutes.

 

It is rare to see a sense of urgency in Mexico. It was not evident here at all. After being on the hot side of the hotel and watching all the smoke, flame, and inaction, I had a sense of urgency to hit the pool and cool down. Ahh. That feels better.

 

The very red sunset that night might have been from the bush fire smoke, had the wind been the other direction. This is just a red Mexican sunset which happens almost every night.

New Year Reflections

 

Christmas of 2013 was a bit unusual for us. We have been away at Christmas a few times in the past, but never just before Christmas. One of the aspects of the Christmas season that I do not care for is the inundation of commercialism and the overload of Christmas music that starts just after Halloween and reaches it crescendo on Christmas Eve. By Christmas day I am done with it all and find that I do not enjoy it like I used to.

This year we missed almost all of the aspects of Christmas that I do not like.

 

We arrived home on the morning of Dec. 22 and had no need for any shopping as that had all been done beforehand. We had not heard any Christmas music while we gone, so it was more than welcome as we cranked up the tunes in our own warm and cozy house. By the time I attended the Christmas Eve service at church, I was ready, as opposed to done. Overall, the experience was very different and I liked it a lot.  

 

Our culture overdoes Christmas for a very simple reason. It is the biggest retail season of the year and many businesses will make it or break it based on Christmas season sales. So naturally, there is the accompanying advertising and hype that goes with retail push. The birth of Christ becomes secondary. Worse than that, The associations that children make are skewed, and so much of that carries on into adulthood. Having just spent Advent in a country that does not make a big deal of Christmas, it made me realise that I had to take the time to think about and concentrate on what Christmas meant for me. Nobody was in my face telling me what to think or do. It was all by my initiative if I was to come up with a right frame of mind for Christmas.

 

There was no "Frosty the Snowman", "Jingle Bells", or "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" while we sat under the stars and full moon, framed by Palm trees swaying in the humid tropical breezes. We were far away from Christmas, and yet it was the season.

 

The shepherds were taken by surprise when the angels suddenly announced the birth of Christ. They did not have a month or two of preparation and hype. They were overwhelmed by the joyful celebration that came on so very suddenly, and were comforted by the messengers who told them they did not have to be afraid. I have sometimes been afraid of Christmas, or at least my diminishing attitude toward aspects of it. This year it came upon me more or less suddenly and it did indeed enhance the experience.  

 

As we sang the joyful carols in church on Christmas Eve, I suddenly realised that I had not heard them for over a year. Not only that, but the message and sounds of the carols were not drowned out by the echoes and reverberations of mall noise still ringing in my ears.

 

It is good to change up our way of doing things on occasion, to give us some perspective on why we do the things we do.

Lost Worlds

 

Part of my New Year's Eve was spent reading the final chapters of my Christmas Holiday book, King Solomon's Mines. My first impression of this book was Wilbur Smith meets Indiana Jones. It is a book with an interesting background.

It was written and published in 1885 and began the whole genre of Lost World adventure literature as it's theme is discovering uncharted territory in deepest darkest Africa. It was written as a result of a wager between the author, H. Rider Haggard and his brother, that he could write a better novel than Robert Louis Stevenson's "Treasure Island". It took 6 weeks to write and he had a difficult time finding a publisher, but when he did, the biggest problem was being able to print copies fast enough for the huge demand of this immensely popular book.  

The story revolves around a trio of men searching for one of their brothers. There is a legend of a mine, which was the source of King Solomon's wealth, and there is an old map supposedly created by an ancient Portuguese explorer who had actually seen the treasure and died trying to escape from the evil that surrounded the treasure.

There is bush lore, big game hunting, Zulu wars, starvation, thirst, ancient curses, and diamonds secreted away in chambers beneath a massive snow covered mountain. Death and treachery are around every corner, and in the end, the reader is sure there will be no solution for the predicament the trio find themselves in. But keep in mind that Allan Quartermain, one of the trio, is writing the story, so there has to be a way out, and there is.

The writing is a bit simplistic, but descriptive enough to appeal to more than the juvenile reader. I found it interesting that all the images for this book, in a Google search, depicted a white woman clinging to a macho white hunter, in the clutches of danger. There is only one romantic interest in the actual story, and that is between a young black Zulu girl and one of the adventures. There are no white women in this story. This perhaps indicates the sensibilities of the culture during the time when movies were first made, based on this book. I prefer the reality of the original story.

A good read and a bit of a page turner, I give it 4 stars considering it was written 160 years ago.  

Mexico Magic

 

Sunrise, best time of day.

 

Chandelier in the newly refurbished Flamingo buffet restaurant.

 

Gargoyles and pottery at the main entry. The water was not running this night.

 

Main lobby with Christmas tree.

 

Mariachi band on 'Mexico Night'.

 

Some of the entertainers trying to rev up the crowd on Mexico night.

 

There was a 70's theme night where the food was American, you know, pizza, pasta, hamburgers, French fries, and hot dogs. Being off red meat for many years now, I thought I would treat myself to a freshly grilled burger for old times sake. I stuck to the safe condiments, and even avoided the one that looked like ketchup but could have Mexican Red Hot Sauce. Mayo, lettuce and tomato were my choices and my first bite was taken with great relish until I realised that the mayo was not regular mayo, but a mayo-like substance that was laced with cilantro. There are few things that I dislike more than cilantro, so the burger was basically ruined and my one hamburger of the year was a bust.

 

I could not finish the burger so comforted myself with a desert sampler. No cilantro here, only sugar and calories.

 

When you walk the isle at a Mexican beach wedding, this is what it looks like.

A Typical Day On Vacation

 

Six in the morning and time to get the day going. We do not want to miss a second of the sunrise as we head out to the beach for our early morning walk.

 

This morning there is a lone fisherman catching his breakfast. Sometimes there would be a group of fisherman spreading their nets on the beach, pulling the 10 inch silver fish from the strands.

 

Walking into the sunrise without sunglasses. The air is so humid you can see the moisture and feel it condense on your cool skin.

 

You never know what you will find stranded on the beach. This time it is a Blowfish that got washed up in the big surf. We also saw about 25 Giant Sea Turtle nesting sites (where they had laid their eggs during the night), however, some predators had got to the depressions in the sand and had dug up the eggs and eaten all the contents, leaving only a scattered mess of shrivelled white shells.

 

After an invigorating walk, a hearty breakfast was in order. Coffee, orange juice, two eggs over easy, a meat turnover, bacon, a piece of roasted chicken, and roasted potatoes. After this, I usually filled a plate with fruits, such as cantaloupe, mango, watermelon, pineapple and orange slices with a breakfast pastry and second cup of coffee with a glass of cactus/celery juice. Yummy!   

 

Then, to the beach or the pool. The heat would get to me after a while and I preferred cooling off in the pool as opposed to the ocean, which left me feeling sticky.

 

A typical scene at the beach, a vendor trying to sell his goods to a vacationer.

 

Often, in the late afternoon, there would be a wedding at the beach and the special tables and chairs would be set up on the lawns for the wedding guests.

 

And the day would end in another spectacular sunset.

 

After capturing the colour with my camera, we would have dinner at a spot where we could see the sky and the beach and marvel at how the sky would continue to saturate with colour long after the sun dipped below the horizon.

 

This was my dinner one night. Looks like fish, rice, a pasta salad, coleslaw ( second only to White Spot coleslaw) a potato ball, and perhaps a pork chop. After the third day I was off the wine and beer as my old allergies were plaguing me again. (very itchy hives on the back of my neck)

After dinner we would wander around the impromptu markets in the front of the complex and then take in the show at the outdoor theatre. Back home and in bed by 11 pm. exhausted and happy. And the beds were great!