Gainesville Attorneys Vie for Title of Biggest UF Gator Fan

As I sit here watching the University of Florida football team behind Alabama late in their game...although performing much better than I had expected...I wondered how some competing Gainesville attorneys have been spending their time for the last three hours.  One firm's ad has its senior lawyer sitting with his son, the junior partner, in an empty Ben Hill Griffin Stadium (UF's home field) looking up to the sky like visionaries to show how devoted they are to their Gator idols.  Then there's the commercial featuring another local lawyer who indirectly puts down the first firm and claims that HE was the true Gator...not only was he a Florida grad but also played on their football team, by golly!  And the other evening I saw yet a third firm claiming that THEY bleed Orange and Blue.  Presumably, potential clients of these attorneys will see how attached these dudes are to the University and as a result will rush to employ their services.  As for me, they might as well have come out with their favorite color or rock band, for all the meaning that conveys.  If I need to seek legal counsel, I'm going to want to know facts about their competence, integrity, and track record of attaining successful judgments...not irrelevant tripe like this.  And what if I have a beef with the University of Florida...the last person I would want to represent me in court is someone who has professional and/or deeply emotional ties to that school. So you're a football jock from your youth and want to use that to hawk your trade...that approach makes ME more likely to reject you, not run to you.  I feel the same about other ex-jocks, Gators or not, who trade on their athletic pasts to promote their respective business ventures or endorsements.  As for the Gainesville attorneys, I wonder whether any more will join the contest for Biggest Gator Fan...

Quote of the Week...from Robert Benchley

Anyone can do any amount of work provided it isn't the work he is supposed to be doing at the moment.

                                                                                 ---Robert Benchley

Robert Benchley (1889-1945) was an American humorist, writer and actor...when I randomly accessed the above quote of his I at first mistook him for Peter Benchley, who wrote Jaws.  There's something indeed funny about this quote, but that doesn't make it any less real or profound. It struck me that here was a statement that pretty much summed up my academic career during my youth, from elementary school through college.  I'd have homework to do each night, but would I do it? Why no, there's this cool book to read instead or astronomy or history or foreign languages or something else...anything but what I was assigned.  And how many of us put off our more mundane and physically-engaging duties in our personal lives while going to the gym or similarly involving ourselves faithfully in exercise routines?  I learned a lot during my school days...it just wasn't what the teachers expected from me according to their own curricula and calendars.  There was an old SpongeBob SquarePants episode titled Procrastination, in which our absorbent hero is assigned a paper by his driving instructor about what you can do at a traffic light.  He cleans his home spotless, overfeeds his pet snail...and does just about everything other than actually write his paper.  And yes, it was all very funny...but sad as well, for it reminded me of my own tendency at times to put necessary things off in the guise of "working" on others...

Constellation of the Month: Capricornus

 

Capricornus is considered a September constellation in that it crosses the meridian in mid-evening, and it's along the Zodiac between Sagittarius and Aquarius.  But you need a location away from city lights to be able to really see it well...its brightest star is only magnitude three and no others are brighter than magnitude four.  Dubbed the "Sea Goat" (whatever that's supposed to be), its shape is like a boat or basket...making it relatively easy to spot in appropriately dark skies.  I misspelled Delta Capricorni's Arabic name Deneb Algedi in the above picture: it's that brightest star I was referring to, on the far eastern (left) end.  On the opposite part of the sky is the constellation Cancer: yes, these two are directly related to Earth's "Tropic of" latitudes that at a time in the past represented the northernmost and southernmost points in the sky where the sun would lie...and on Earth where it would reach the zenith at noon...on the summer and winter solstices.  The constellations fulfilling this function nowadays are Sagittarius and Gemini.  I didn't put the different stars' Greek alphabet designations in the above picture because I prefer their proper names, usually derived from Arabic.  Now that I've written about Capricornus I feel duty-bound to go outside in the evening and try to see it...shouldn't be too hard if the weather cooperates. After Cygnus (which I wrote about in September 2020) there just aren't that many standout constellations for this month...next year should be a challenge to find a third...

Weekly Short Stories: 1976 Science Fiction, Part 3

Today I continue to examine 1976 science fiction short stories as they appeared in the following year's anthology Donald A. Wollheim Presents The 1977 Annual World's Best SF.  In 1976 there was a lot of good music: I especially liked the albums Year of the Cat by Al Stewart and A New World Record by Electric Light Orchestra...the latter contained my "song of the year" in Livin' Thing.  Other favorite songs included Billy Joel's Angry Young Man, Judy Collin's Send in the Clowns and John Miles' Music.  Below are my reviews of two more stories from that year, starting with one with which many are already familiar because of its later film adaptation...

THE BICENTENNIAL MAN by Isaac Asimov

In Asimov's fictional future universe robots play a big part, subject to his Three Laws of Robotics as well as receiving fear and resentment from much of the human population.  One robot, named Andrew Martin, has a desire to achieve "freedom" from being owned property. He achieves this but finds obstacles to acceptance everywhere he turns.  Finally he concludes that only by becoming human himself will he be accepted and the story flows from there. It's clearly an analogy to the American civil rights movement, the abolishment of discriminatory laws, and the slow transformation of attitudes about race.  Isaac Asimov reportedly wrote this story as part of a doomed effort from someone else to compile an anthology of sci-fi tales relating to the ongoing Bicentennial theme...he was the only writer to come through with one, and it became famous...

THE CABINET OF OLIVER NAYLOR by Barrington J. Bayley

Wow, this packed tale has a lot to discuss: Britain chooses to be economically isolated from the world in the 21st century and the resulting many innovations there include a device that totally eliminates speed-of-light barriers to space travel...fast-forward a few years and we have a tinkerer/inventor in his own craft, traveling at a velocity of hundreds of powers of light speed.  His aim is philosophical speculation about the nature of identity, spurred on by his invention of a device that creates alternative universes whose characters are trapped in endless loops...he likes the isolation of deep-space travel for his musings.  But he has a distraction: a hitchhiker who wants to reach another individual whose ship is located many universes away (yes I said that) on the edge of a matterless lake: what's that, you ask...only something very, very scary!  How the mission pans out shows the petty, deeply-flawed and stagnant nature of people amid the most incredible technological advances ever conceived: kind of reminded me about where we are today...

Next week I conclude my look at 1976 short science fiction...

Game of the Week: KenKen

 

I'm a fan of number logic puzzle games, and that includes Sudoku, Kakuro, and Hidato.  Another one that is rising in popularity is KenKen, invented in 2003 by Tetsuya Miyamoto and embraced and published by Will Shortz and the New York Times in a series of books...the above one I bought recently at Books-a-Million.  It bears a limited similarity with Sudoku in that each puzzle's grid of rows and columns will be filled with unique integers going from 1 to whatever the dimension size is...hence a 4X4 puzzle will contain numbers from 1 to 4 and one with  a 6X6 grid goes from 1 to 6.  That said, KenKen greatly differs from Sudoku in that one must employ the indicated operation with the marked-off spaces to fill in the numbers.  So looking above again, "1-" means the two numbers differ by one, "12x" means the numbers multiplied together equal 12, "2÷" means that one number divided by the other equals 2, and "9+" means that the sum of the blocked off numbers in the row or column equals 9.  Like Sudoku and Kakuro, I tend to write in the blank squares the possible numbers in tiny form, and then write the solution over them when I discover it.  Also, like just about any puzzle KenKen varies in difficulty from puzzle to puzzle...in the book I'm working on now they start at "Easy" and progress to "Medium" and then "Challenging".  Miyamoto is a math teacher and reportedly invented KenKen as a way to train his students to combine logic and the four basic arithmetical operations.  For me it's a fun variation from the other paper number logic puzzles out there, and I tend to tear pages out of the book to work on whenever convenient... 

My Take on the Recent U.S. Open Tennis Tournament

The U.S. Open major tennis tournament has just ended...it began on August 30th.  Being at home in my current situation with a lot of time to watch TV, I picked up on it in the first round of the men's and women's singles divisions...each of which had 128 entrants to play for the title over seven successive rounds.  Naturally, ESPN, which carried the tournament, couldn't show all the early matches but I still saw enough to get to know some of the principals.  Novak Djokovic was aiming for a calendar year Grand Slam, not accomplished on the men's side since Rod Laver...in attendance for the finale...won the four majors in 1969.  Aiding him in his quest this year, after winning the first three majors, was the absence of 2020 Open champion Dominic Thiem..as well as superstars Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer...all from injuries.  Still, there was stiff competition from others, including Daniil Medvedev, whom Djokovic had defeated in the Australian Open finale at the beginning of the year.  Djokovic seemed to struggle early on in each round I saw, but wore his opponent down in the later sets.  As for his final adversary, Medvedev, I did see him play until he faced Djokovic, and in that match he was nearly perfect with his placements, serves, and strategy while the Grand Slam aspirant seemed flat much of the time. Medvedev won the title in three straight sets and was clearly the better player that day.  On the women's side I remember seeing 18-year-old Emma Raducanu play very well in some early matches but didn't think she would last all the way to the final match, which she won in straight sets over 19-year-old Leylah Fernandez, another player seeming to come out of nowhere to upset higher-ranked players, including defending Open champion Naomi Osaka,  Angelique Kerber, Evita Svitolina, and Aryna Sabalenka.  It was fun getting to know the different players with their idiosyncrasies, but I was often annoyed at the heckling from some in the spectator stand against players they disliked.  For most of the earlier matches the crowd was clearly vocal against Djokovic but turned in his favor when the end drew near...pretty fickle of them if you ask me.  I also enjoyed the TV commentators, including Chrissie Evert and John McEnroe.  What made this tournament more meaningful than others I've seen is that I was able to watch the weekday afternoon and evening matches, something that normally would conflict with my work schedule.  It was a bit scary the night that the remnant of Ida struck New York City (Queens), the site of the tournament: not only did the intense rain interfere with the matches by rendering some of the courts useless, but many fans, upon leaving the stadium, found themselves in the middle of a driving flood with water up to their knees or even higher.  I'm looking forward to seeing the Williams sisters, Nadal, and Federer return to the court, although it looks as if the younger players are rising up to take over.  By the way, it's no accident that I didn't refer to the different players' affiliated countries: I'm sick of the crass nationalism on the part of some that gets in the way of appreciating and respecting the players' individual talent, fortitude and discipline that got them there in the first place...

Enjoying Outdoors Starbucks after Hiatus

 

For the first time since my operation in July, I am sitting at my favorite Starbucks here in northern Gainesville...the big change from before is obvious: no indoor seating due to the COVID resurgence that took place while I was gone.  But there are plenty of outdoor seats, and I'm enjoying my decaf caffè americano.  In the decades preceding my surgery...specifically the years from 1978 to July 13, 2021...I was a heavy consumer of caffeine, chiefly through coffee.  Since then, though, I have thoroughly avoided this socially-acceptable mind-and-body-altering drug, for two reasons.  One is that I've become strongly opposed to being dependent on any chemicals to alter my mental state...the other is that the interruption from caffeine with my two-week hospital stay and subsequent home recovery has enabled me to tear away from my dependence on it.  And I intend to stay that way while continuing to avail myself of Starbucks, Dunkin' Donuts...and of course, my home coffee maker.  Sadly, it looks like at least at this Starbucks store, decaffeinated iced coffee is unavailable, but caffè americano is one of my favorites there and comes in decaf mode.  It's nice to just sit here and take in the ambiance...I didn't realize how much I had missed it!  There are about three weeks until my "official" recovery ends and I return to work...but I know that I still have more time ahead of me before I am completely back to "normal".  Yet in some ways I am already fitter than before, with much better eating habits and a corresponding weight loss...no longer overweight despite having been a runner.  Good stuff...

About 9/11 and Our Country, Then and Now

Twenty years after the horrendous terror attack on our country on September 11, 2001 there are numerous ceremonies nationwide...and in particular on those sites of the villainous acts...honoring and remembering those who lost their lives.  America is unified in this, and the 3000 lives snuffed out on that day, along with the heroism of many who made that final sacrifice, should never be forgotten.  Arab extremist terrorists from Al-Qaeda plotted and carried out their scheme, which involved hijacking and piloting four passenger jets and flying them into the World Trade Center buildings, the Pentagon, and either the Capitol or White House...the last foiled when passengers and crew revolted and that plane crashed into a Pennsylvania field.  It's a shame that my country today is so divided about a different...but much deadlier...attack: that of a little virus, COVID-19, that so far in the past year and a half here has claimed nearly 660,000 lives.  Yet millions of people, many of whom were rightfully outraged at the 9/11 carnage and who expressed the willingness for our government...however intrusively...to drastically enhance its surveillance and security measures to protect us from future attacks, are hopelessly lost in a tangle of misinformation about the usefulness of masks and vaccines to save lives and curtail the pandemic.  I get it: comparing death figures can get a bit impersonal, and every one of those who perished on 9/11 should be treasured...especially those first responders who never hesitated to put themselves in harm's way to save others then.  But today's 660,000 number of COVID deaths (which is steadily climbing) is 220 times the fatalities from twenty years ago, yet these people all around me are sickly obsessed with losing their "liberty" from just wearing a flimsy little cloth mask to protect others around them from their exhaled germs, a common measure taken during epidemics that predates today by much longer than twenty years.  When the COVID vaccines came out a few months ago I thought good, now these bizarre anti-maskers can get inoculated and won't be such a threat to me, my family, friends, and society at-large.  But no, too many of them had to get themselves all hung up over the vaccine and refuse it as well...the resulting overcrowded hospitals with COVID patients, most of them by far unvaccinated, and the universal upsurge of the much more virulent Delta variant has prevented others with different life-threatening conditions from receiving their needed treatment. I myself came within days of having my own scheduled open heart surgery cancelled a few weeks ago, just because so many refused their civic duty to mask up and get vaccinated, easy and convenient measures that pose no danger to them.  I contrast this with the brave, sacrificial behavior of those 9/11 firefighters and others who laid down their own lives to save others and I cringe at the disparity between then and now...and it makes me much more apprehensive about our future than it ever did on that fateful day in September, 2001...

Quote of the Week...from Morris West

If you spend your whole life waiting for the storm, you'll never enjoy the sunshine.

                                                                            ---Morris West

Morris West (1916-99) was an Australian writer who put out a number of popular and critically-acclaimed novels, usually focusing on politics and religion.  Not that you need to be such a writer yourself or even interested in his areas of concern to understand and embrace his above quote.  As humans with functional brains, we will fill the conscious hours we have with thoughts of one kind or another...and to an extent we can control where to direct those thoughts.  Some people I know...as well as the previous president...spend an enormous percentage of their existence thinking about themselves: these are commonly called "narcissists".  Others are in the habit of repeatedly playing tapes in their minds about past offenses, losses or failures...or obsess on their old "glory days" that have long passed by.  Still others are present-focused, but train their thoughts on specific goals and actions in front of them...we all do that to an extent and need to as responsible adults.  And some people spend their time worrying about the future beyond the things they can personally control...what a waste of the precious and transitory gift of life!  There is a concept floating around called "mindfulness" that can, like with anything else, get muddled down with rules. But as I see it, its essence is for us at times to interrupt our habitual thought trains...including that pointless worry...with simply stopping, looking around, and appreciating what we have now in front of us.  When I was a youngster, I would go with my sister and parents to the local grocery store.  As we would  make our way up and down each aisle, I remember noticing the different decorations and pictures on the wall.  I could do this because my mind did not have the burdens of responsibility that my parents did, as they were focused on the items on their list...among whatever tapes they had going on in their own minds at the time.  Nowadays, I couldn't begin to describe my own favorite grocery store that I have been going to for decades...other than its functional layout of goods, registers, departments, and restrooms which corresponded solely to my purposeful actions.  I'm not saying that we shouldn't be responsible adults and just let everything slide in favor of aimless contemplation, but a little of the latter mixed into our lives can go far to interrupt the destructive mental habits we often engage in. Going out on walks and jogs often provides me with the chance to get out of myself and observe and appreciate the world around me.  And turning off the TV with its doomsday news channels and simply sitting in a chair on the back or front porch carries similar benefits...      

Just Finished Reading The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie

The Mysterious Affair at Styles, which I just finished reading, was Agatha Christie's very first novel, published in 1921 and introducing her trademark sleuth, Belgian detective Hercule Poirot.  Set during World War I, here we see Poirot as a recently-arrived refugee from his home country.  Arthur Hastings, on leave at a rural estate from the war, finds himself in the middle of turmoil surrounding the highly suspicious death there of the owner, the wealthy widow of the original landholder.  It appears to be a poisoning, and Hastings witnesses some peculiarities about the behavior of the various residents and visitors on that fateful morning: the deceased's profligate second husband, her two stepsons, the oldest stepson's wife, a young woman residing there who works at a nearby hospital, the widow's personal friend...and a problematic physician who just so happens to be a renowned expert on poisons.  Hastings runs into his old friend Poirot and asks him to look into the case, which has attracted the attention of Scotland Yard.  What ensues is a procession of suspects, revealed clues, Poirot's enigmatic ideas and behavior, puzzling actions and speech among the principals...and a surprise ending: of course the Belgian detective had pretty much figured it all out early on.  Hastings serves as a Dr. Watson-like character who reacts to each new development as most people would, repeatedly setting himself up for correction by Poirot.  For someone's very first novel I thought The Mysterious Affair at Styles was brilliant...I'm thinking of going through the entire Poirot series of Christie novels...I've already read the second book, titled Murder on the Links,  as well as The Mystery of the Blue Train, Murder on the Orient Express, Death in the Clouds, and Sad Cypress: click on the titles to read my reviews...  

Weekly Short Stories: 1976 Science Fiction, Part 2

Below I discuss two more 1976 science fiction short stories from the anthology Donald A. Wollheim Presents The 1977 Annual World's Best SF, covering the editor's picks for the previous year.  I found today's selections special and appealing...I wish more of the listed stories were like them.  As far as 1976 was concerned personally, I ran my last running race in it (with dubious results) until 2008, and I became attached to studying foreign languages, including Chinese and Russian which I continue to pursue to this day...it was fun learning the Russian Cyrillic writing system that year.  In sports the Miami Dolphins had one of their two losing seasons (barely) during Don Shula's 35-year reign as their head coach...oh, to return to a semblance of that consistency of quality.  And the Yankees finally returned to the World Series after more than a decade's absence, only to be swept by the Cincinnati Reds.  Here are my reactions to those stories...

THE HERTFORD MANUSCRIPT by Richard Cowper

I loved the 1960 film adaptation of H.G. Wells' novel The Time Machine, starring Rod Taylor and Yvette Mimieux.  Cowper's story is a sequel to this classic and picks up where Wells' story ended: the time traveler, frustrated at the war-mongering world of his time and unbelieving friends, gets in his machine and disappears forever.  But where when did he go? In this story the author lays out an intriguing answer, as well as a lesson for us all in this time of pandemic when the masses resort to superstition, unfounded theories and scapegoating instead of following rational, science-based responses.  Very memorable tale, although I did feel a little discomfort at a different author adding to the work of a previous one...

NATURAL ADVANTAGE by Lester Del Rey

An intelligent spaceship of non-humans are dismayed on their long voyage to study an cloud of deadly anti-matter as it approaches a star with a planetary system when they discover intelligent life on the clouded third planet, indicated by the emitted radio signals.  When they finally meet up in space with a human delegation from Earth, they are dismayed with the humans' scientific and linguistic backwardness as well as doubting their capacity to develop the needed technology fast enough to avoid the impending cataclysm in time, only ten years ahead.  But humanity delivers a stunning surprise at the end to the frustrated would-be rescuers, highlighted by one of the greatest final lines I have ever read in any work of fiction...

Next week: more about sci-fi short stories from 1976...

Happy Anniversary, My Dear Melissa

Today I'd like to say HAPPY ANNIVERSARY to most definitely my "better half", my sweet wife of 35 years.  Melissa, with each succeeding year I only grow more in love with you...and the health trials I've experienced this summer have only brought us closer together.  Baby, you're the greatest!

Just Saying...From a January 1970 Newspaper Report

 

TRYING TO PREVENT INFLUENZA is the title to a caption appearing in the January 1st, 1970 edition of the Hollywood Sun-Tattler, distributed by United Press International.  The picture displays four London, England office workers at their typewriter stations, all wearing masks to prevent the spread of influenza during a serious epidemic at that time.  I've yet to come across any reports of mass uprisings of indignant citizens opposing masks in the name of their "liberty": I'll let you know if I do, but I doubt it...folks back then understood their RESPONSIBILITY to each other in the midst of a public health crisis. No, I don't know whether there were mask mandates imposed then, but maybe they didn't need to be if the populace had enough common sense to wear them in the first place...

Here is the text of the caption: "TRYING TO PREVENT INFLUENZA--London office workers wear masks in an effort to evade the current influenza epidemic that hit Britain and most of Europe.  Emergency influenza cases in London rose to their highest level in seven years.  Volunteer nurses stepped in to fill gaps in hospital staffs throughout the country as the number of cases climbed and doctors and nurses were among victims of the outbreak.".

Great Old TV Episodes...from The Twilight Zone

 

THE MIND AND THE MATTER, a second-season Twilight Zone episode that first aired in May of 1961 (I was four at the time and most definitely sound asleep that evening), stars legendary comedian Shelley Berman playing cranky, harassed office worker Archibald Beechcroft, who lives in the big city (presumably New York) and endures the daily oppression of...as he puts it..."people, people, people" crowding and jostling him about everywhere: the subway, elevators, cafeteria, office.  Finally reaching his work desk one morning, Beechcroft is greeted by his ever-ebullient young co-worker, who then proceeds to spill coffee all over him.  Later, at lunch in that crowded cafeteria, he gets his foiled meal from a vending machine and is hailed to a table with this same individual...who spills his drink all over him again, naturally.  But he has a book for him, titled The Mind and the Matter, and claims that a friend was able to mentally influence a store's customer into buying a specific piece of clothing after reading it.  "Chapter Three", he stresses to Beechcroft, and our stressed-out hero reluctantly accepts it.  Later, he gets deep into the book (see above) and tries its claim that mental concentration can change the world.  After successfully making his annoying landlady disappear, the next morning he completely empties the subway and his office of people.  Eventually becoming bored at that, he decides to make the world full of exact duplicates of himself, his cynical and complaining personality included.  When he gets a big dose of what he's really like, Beechcroft repents and, resigned, returns the world to its original state, after which his colleague comes into the office and spills more coffee on him...

Aside from the fact that to an extent I felt a certain kinship and sympathy to Archibald Beechcroft's antipathy about crowds, I thought his final decision to just give up and try to adapt to the world as it really is was a bit shortsighted.  When one learns to do something the first day, they don't take that limited time span and evaluate their effectiveness and then just quit if the early outcome doesn't measure up to expectations.  Instead they evaluate what went right and what went wrong, and adjust accordingly.  Had Archibald Beechcroft really been able to create his own universe simply by concentrating hard, he could have made it simply a bit less crowded and populated by those folks who, from his own experiences with them, he liked and respected.  But then again, the show's writers might have been making the point that he was a bit of a shallow thinker, anyway.  The Mind and the Matter was one of a handful of Twilight Zone episodes specifically designed to be funny and light-hearted.  Others that come to mind starred Carol Burnett, Orson Bean and Buster Keaton... 

Just Finished Reading A Runner's High by Dean Karnazes

A Runner's High, out just this past April, is the second Dean Karnazes book I've read among his several over the last fifteen years.  Back around 2010 I read (and reread) his excellent debut book on running titled Ultramarathon Man.  Karnazes has been an avid ultra-distance runner...not at the top of his sport in terms of finishing times but with a long, impressive record of very long runs.  But for me, never interested in running longer distances than marathons, his perspective on the sport...or maybe better to call it a lifestyle...resonated deeply with me enough back than to buy it on my Kindle.  "Karno", as he is often called by his buddies, has a very compelling and personal writing style.  He doesn't treat distance running by itself, but rather integrates it with his own personal life story and relationships.  There's a kind of duality here: on one hand, for him running is supremely a solitary endeavor befitting his own introverted nature...on the other his recollections are full of meaningful and sometimes life-changing interactions with others.  His first book delves into his childhood and earlier running years, while A Runner's High is more about recent years and how aging (Karnazes is now 59) has forced him into a reassessment of this activity, emphasizing now the experience more than ever over his previous competitive nature and goals.  He revisits the Western States 100, an exclusive race in mountainous California (limit: 369 entrants drawn by lottery), his initial experience running it recounted in Ultramarathon Man.  Coming back after some intervening years, he realizes, once upon the trail, that he is no longer in shape to finish it and has to struggle...along with some "tough" love from his son Nicholas and his parents and wife...to get back into the race after he had decided to drop out.  And family is a very big deal in A Runner's High.  I haven't read Dean Karnazes' other books on running and don't know how personal his writing is in them, but I enjoyed in the two books I've read so far in how he describes his philosophy of running and his experiences...not so much all the relational stuff.  One other thing about Karnazes and his running: a few years ago, an acquaintance of mine who was (and I believe still is) involved in marathon running would make a big deal about how during a race he never stopped running to walk as others do, many by deliberate design...as if this somehow made his own performance more legitimate.  Well, in the much longer races Karnazes engaged in, NOBODY ever ran the entire distance.  There would be aid stations interspersed along the route and racers would be required at times to stop and undergo inspections from a stationed medical authority to determine their fitness to continue.  There would be seats to sit in and rest...for as long as they wanted...and food and refreshments, as well as opportunities to change shoes and socks.  The runners usually had friends and/or family at some of these outposts ready to aid them during their breaks.  And during many of these events, the terrain at different times was either so steep-ascending, steep-descending, too rocky or muddy or involved crossing water...that running through these stages would be impossible and walking, climbing, and sometimes even crawling were the necessary actions...I don't think that dude would be sticking to his conceit very long about "running the whole race" were he to try out one of these longer ones.  As I mentioned earlier, I have no plans to run any ultramarathon races, although they've become much more widespread in recent years and quite a few are held each year in my state of Florida.  No, half-marathons are pretty much my upper limit now in distance.  And I have every intention of continuing to run them long after I turn 65 next month...

Quote of the Week...from Vincent van Gogh

What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?                ---Vincent van Gogh

The other evening I was sitting there with the TV on Soundscapes, a Music Choice channel I like that's part of my cable service.  One of its cool features is an on-screen procession of inspiring quotes by famous people...the above one by the renowned nineteenth century Dutch artist stood out to me.  For he was right: trying new things can demand a great amount of courage, especially since failure is often a prominent part of that.  Change is growth...not changing is stagnation, withering, decay and death.  It's important to have a strong proactive element in my mental/emotional makeup that suggests, permits...and sometimes ultimately drives me to venture into fresh waters of new goals and endeavors.  Also, it helps from time to time to undergo an interruption...planned or not...in my daily routine of habits.  This gives me the opportunity to live away from some of the bad habits I've developed and point my life in a more healthful and productive direction...my recent surgery and recovery has served as such an interruption and has focused me on a number of areas that I am changing for the better.  And recovery from open heart surgery...not to mention making the decision to undergo it in the first place...definitely fits into the category of things attempted needing courage.  I am not well-versed in art...although I'm very familiar with van Gogh's beautiful, eerie  1889 painting The Starry Night, to which Don McLean paid tribute in his touching, sensitive 1972 song Vincent.  I do know that this great artist lived his life true to his own standards, bravely explored new frontiers in his craft...and suffered through debilitating mental illness while being unrecognized for his accomplishments until after his much too early death at age 37.  He's known for a lot of excellent quotes, but this one struck me personally in this season of my life...

Recently Saw the Movie Dances with Wolves

This past weekend Melissa and I decided to watch a movie at home together.  Being Netflix subscribers, we browsed through what was available and I noticed the 1990 movie Dances with Wolves.  Neither of us had seen it, and I knew it was critically acclaimed and won multiple Oscars, including Best Picture.  So in spite of the fact that it was listed as lasting for more than 3 hours, we settled down to watch it.  Kevin Costner starred in it, directing, co-producing and portraying the protagonist.  Adapted from the same-titled book by Michael Blake, Costner's character was that of Lt. John Dunbar of the United States (Union) Army, whose introductory scene in the Civil War has him lying in a medical tent with his injured foot about to be sawed off.  Somehow he manages to painfully put his boots back on and sneak away, but he realizes that he's liable to suffer a slow death from infection and decides impulsively at the start of a battle with entrenched Confederate soldiers to take a horse and ride to his death in front of their lines.  But miraculously none of the enemy soldiers' bullets find him, and his action spurs his own side to boldly attack, winning the confrontation and resulting in Dunbar getting the best medical treatment for his foot, a promotion in rank, decorations, and the choice of where his next assignment will be. Finished with the war, he chooses the westernmost outpost, deep in the northern Great Plains.  Eventually he is further assigned to a remote post in the middle of nowhere and which has been abandoned.  From here he faithfully performs his duties in solitude until he discovers he is not alone...there are Indians nearby, camped by the creek with many horses and tents.  And from here the story takes off about how this one soldier first confronts, then befriends...and finally joins the Sioux people, complete with buffalo hunts and a battle against their enemy, the Pawnee.  He also finds love among his adoptive people.  But Dunbar knows that the whites will be coming in great numbers here, led by his own Army...and the meeting of the two cultures can only go one way.  The movie's ending as expected is very climactic and I felt that both Blake the author and Costner the director and actor did a great job spinning a very compelling tale...no wonder it garnered those awards.  Still, I have some issues about it to discuss...

I remember, when Dances with Wolves first came out, from its description that it sounded an awful lot like the 1970 Dustin Hoffman film Little Big Man.  In fact, while the later story essentially was independent and stood well on its own, I kept noticing elements of the first movie that were incorporated into it...there seems to have been a lot of derivation going on.  Even the Pawnee Indians were depicted as thoroughly murderous and depraved in both movies.  Which brought me to another problem:  the Pawnee were shown to be collectively and individually bad while the Sioux were just wonderful in every way.  The white Union soldiers, when they finally arrived on the scene (except for Costner's character, of character), were dominated by cruelty, petty greed, fear, and bigotry.  Were these three groups really this distinctly categorizable?  I think not...I tend to believe, and you're free to disagree with me, that within different ethnicities of people there are both the good and the bad, and yes, sometimes the net effect of those different groups meeting one another will result in one becoming dominant, sadly at times even to the point of genocide.  But if I were a descendant of the Pawnee nation I'd really feel like my ancestors were getting a unfair, bad rap from these movies.  Nevertheless, I thought Dances with Wolves was great and Costner deserved all the accolades he received for it.  Still, it was a little difficult sitting through three hours of it...we decided halfway through to take a break and walk around the block...

Weekly Short Stories: 1976 Science Fiction, Part 1

Below I discuss the first three 1976 science fiction stories appearing in the anthology Donald A. Wollheim Presents The 1977 Annual World's Best SF, covering the editor's selections from the previous year.  1976 was the American Bicentennial Year with nationwide celebrations that summer.  It was also the first presidential election year I was old enough to vote in, picking peanut farmer/nuclear engineer/Playboy magazine interviewee Jimmy Carter over Gerald Ford, who apparently hadn't been aware that Poland was a puppet state of the Soviet Union at the time.  For me it was a more relaxed, introspective year...the last one I would ever spend living completely in South Florida.  Anyway, without further ado, here are my reactions to those stories... 

APPEARANCE OF LIFE by Brian W. Aldiss

A very complex and multi-layered story, a human of the distant future belonging to the Seeker class is exploring a galactic museum in the process of being built and stocked with exhibits...all inside a massive constructed belt ringing an uninhabitable planet placed there in great antiquity by a mysterious non-human race that preceded humanity in exploring and dominating our galaxy.  In it he finds two cubes containing holographic images and programs of the personalities and voices of a married couple...long dead from an earlier war...and places the cubes facing one another so that they can converse.  Doing this he discovers the meaning of life and everything...I said this was a very complex and multi-layered story! 

OVERDRAWN AT THE MEMORY BANK by John Varley

Stuck in exile within the Moon after an alien conquest of Earth drove away humanity, what's left of our dwindled race is virtually immortal, with people's memories and essences storable and transferable from one body to another.  A man decides to spend his vacation at an "inner-Moon" wildlife theme park and has his mind implanted within a lion to experience its way of life.  But his original body gets lost and to preserve him, his mind is placed within the master computer while the frantic search is on.  Another pretty complicated tale...you can't read through this one quickly...

THOSE GOOD OLD DAYS OF LIQUID FUEL by Michael G. Coney

In the future interstellar travel is commonplace and easy due to the advent of anti-gravity to propel spaceships.  A man remembers the old gigantic, primitive spaceships that ran on liquid fuel and, hearing that a nearby shipyard of them is slated to be demolished, visits the site and waxes nostalgic on his youth and his friend who shared his interest in the rockets...along with the eventual conflicts that would divide them. A bittersweet tale that kind of reminded me how Ray Bradbury wrote...

Next week I'll discuss more science fiction short stories from the year 1976...

Game of the Week: Tennis

I'm currently watching the first round of the U.S. Open tennis tournament on ESPN.  Tennis has always seemed much easier on television than it really is to play.  I learned to play tennis in my late teens in the early-to-mid 1970s and never played or practiced enough to achieve a reasonable level of competency in it.  I remember running mile after mile in after-school track practice in high school and then later going out to a nearby tennis court with my sister and, after practicing our serves a little, just volleying the ball back and forth to get better with our forehand and backhand swings...no matter how tiring the running had been just an hour or so earlier.  And simply hitting the ball back and forth over the net...no one keeping score...has always been how I've enjoyed "playing tennis".  Yet I remember taking an introductory tennis course at college in the summer of 1975 to fulfill some of my physical education requirements (back when colleges had physical education requirements).  I remember my teacher, who seemed like he thought he was a real cool badass dude, sneering at me with disgust as I "aced" my serving exam by meekly placing each one squarely in the correct place...with absolutely no force or spin on the ball.  Yet I knew how to get an "A" and got it...not that I was any better in it afterwards.  No, after a humiliating game in 1979 I played with a college friend from Brazil in which he thoroughly demolished me and thought no one could play that badly, I put away my racket and would subsequently use tennis balls to play fetch and keep-away with my dogs.  Yet I do enjoy watching tennis on television...with one exception. For some inexplicable reason (maybe they think they're intimidating their opponent), certain professional women players from Eastern Europe (like Maria Sharapova, Victoria Azarenka, and Simona Halep) have this extremely annoying habit of giving loud voice to their exhalations each time they hit the ball, resulting in a horrible sounding sequence of grunts and chirps with each volley. It's gotten so that not only to I automatically root against these players, but I also mute the sound to avoid hearing that crap.  Oh well, maybe some people think what they do is cool...you never know what makes someone think something's cool.  And in the late 1970s when I was making the transition from adolescence to adulthood, there were two activities that people overwhelmingly (but not me) thought were cool: disco dancing and tennis.  They've both declined over the years as participatory activities, but I've always enjoyed watching a good tennis match...and I think I'd better leave my opinion on disco unsaid...    

Jeopardy!'s Process for Selecting Permanent Host Foolish and Demeaning

Ever since I was a kid in the 1960s when Art Fleming hosted the popular quiz show Jeopardy!, I have enjoyed pitting my own prowess at getting the right "questions" to the different posed "answers" in diverse categories of knowledge against the three on-screen players.  I thought that Fleming did his job well guiding each episode and interacting with the contestants, but the idea of slavishly following him as some kind of superstar idol never occurred to me.  Not did it ever when Alex Trebek helped to resurrect the series' mass popularity from the 1980s until his tragic death from cancer last November.  In my book, it doesn't take much to host this show.  You need to possess some degree of literacy, as well as quickly learning how to pronounce some of the more challenging material presented in the answers, but I always assumed that both Fleming and Trebek would go over them with the writers before each taping anyway.  You need to display tactful humor and goodwill toward each contestant, as well as a healthy respect for the wide world of learning.  Jeopardy! hosts should not be shock jocks who titillate the viewing audience with sexual innuendo and vulgar attempts at humor as does the host of Family Feud (among sadly too many other game shows) but rather communicate a sense of decorum and attentive enthusiasm for the episode at hand.  You want to host Jeopardy!, do you? I really don't care what your political views are or whether you foolishly said offensive things on a podcast years earlier or posted a controversial tweet in a moment of foolishness.  I think the producers of Jeopardy!, following Trebek's sad departure, made a really dumb mistake by having a procession of guest hosts each week and making the new permanent replacement a farce with popularity surveys on the Internet listing who's hot and who's not.  As for me, with every episode I've seen of late...and that spans quite a number of different guest hosts...there hasn't been a single one in which the host didn't do a commendable job of carrying the show properly in the areas I've mentioned above.  I think it's kind of humiliating to lead on the different candidates like this, something I doubt that neither Art Fleming nor Alex Trebek would have stood for themselves.  And once a particular candidate seems to be favored, then there is a mad rush to delve back in their pasts to uncover dirty laundry about them...disgusting, as if anybody is so perfect as to judge others like this.  Just draw the name of the "winning" permanent host at random out of a hat from those candidates who've hosted it already and be done with it all, for crying out loud...