Take the Grinch Test!

If this sweet little picture doesn't make you smile, well, all I can say is, step aside MR. GRINCH. A few years back, my friend Terri went to China on a work related trip. Minnie is the daughter of one of Terri's Chinese co-workers. Chinese years are named after animals, and Minnie was born in the year of the mouse.

Another international baby made it's way into my life last week, in a most curious way. Terri, Chris, and I went to dinner at El Alamo. Nice night with friends, and great food. Two exciting events occurred. First, I broke a tooth, which landed me in the dentist's chair at 8:15 Friday morning. I get to go back this Friday to have the work completed. Dr. Peter Hansen is a nice guy even though he is in the pain infliction business. He worked me in on an already packed day, knowing full well that I would be unpleasant, and perhaps would cry. Since he only filed the tooth down to prevent it from lacerating the inside of my mouth, there was no need for tears. And...best of all, he didn't charge me. Nice guy, but he's still a dentist!

Anyway, after we finished dinner, I walked past a table where an Hispanic mother was sitting, with her baby. I used my standard line, "Nice baby, " and the mom stood up and started talking to me. She told me the baby's name is David, and he is two months old. Then she leaned in to me and said, oh so quietly, "Would you touch him?" Smoothly, I replied, "Huh?" She repeated her request, and again, I applied my best social skills saying (rather loudly, I'm afraid) "Touch him?" She assured me that was what she wanted. I thought maybe I could shake his hand and move on, but David was bundled up nicely, with only his handsome, round face peeking out. I touched his cheek, mom was happy, and we left.

*****The holiday spirit is in full swing here at LaDeDa, and Santa, Mrs. Claus, and Earl the Elf will be here at 11:00 on Saturday to read a few stories. We won't be doing the traditional sitting on Santa's lap and reciting an inventory of wants. Instead, Santa, Mrs. Claus, and Earl will chat for a while, and sign autographs. There will also be a make-and- take craft. What fun...but I have declared the store a No Glitter zone!

I know that my survival as a retailer depends largely on November and December sales, but when I see faces like Minnie there on the left, I can't help but think that the Grinch got it right when he said, "Maybe Christmas...doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

What am I reading? I'm still working on the Tumor Board, with Neil Gaimen's The Graveyard Book next in line. Talking about tumors didn't seem like an appropriate blend with the rest of this post, so maybe you'll hear about it next week. Oh, and if you like Mexican food, give El Alamo on Marshall street a try. It's not fancy, but the food is wonderful, the staff is friendly, and the prices are beyond reasonable. We need to keep this place open.

Thanks for stopping by. Gotta go shovel snow. GRRRRR.

The New Girl by guest blogger Steven Head

In the current edition of Vanity Fair there is a short article about the late Swedish mystery writer, Stieg Larsson. There was mention of the possible reasons for his death at age 50, comparison to other Swedish mystery writers, and tidbits from his books in print. I took the bait, the hook was set, and before I knew it was caught in Larsson's net.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is the first of the "Girl" trilogy. I picked up the paperback on Saturday and ended up spending large chunks of the weekend with this page turner. Larsson does a wonderful job of using a limited third person narrative to reveal the action through the experience of Mikael Blomkvist, financial reporter and publisher, and Lizbeth Salander, the "Girl".

At the start of the novel we learn Mikael has been found guilty of libel, not exactly an endorsement of credibility for a main character. In short order we learn Lizbeth is an asocial computer savant with a history of institutionalization and suspected Aspberger's Syndrome. Clearly these are not main stream heroes. But the presenting problem is engaging, the depth of character development masterful, and just enough tangents to offer relief from the shocking elements.

The problem involves a retired and fading patriarch of a Swedish industrial conglomerate. Before passing to the next life he wants to commission a family biography, although the real reason is to determine who murdered his favorite niece when she was 16, some 40 years earlier. The murder was one of those 'locked-room' situations involving people on an island, the connecting bridge out of service, and no known boating traffic. All the suspects are identified and there are multiple photographs and a well documented time line. Along with the exhaustive written records of an official investigation that reached a dead end years earlier.

Like so many of the mysteries I write about, this one contains some graphic and shocking passages. Each of the title pages of the four parts of this book include a statistic about the mistreatment of Swedish women by men. Hopefully, this gives you an idea of the terrain this book travels. By the end of the book, order is more or less restored by the actions of our not-so-normal heroes, the reputation of our reporter hero restored, and a few rough edges of the Girl are polished.

As a frequent reader of mystery and detective novels I know someone is going to get murdered so there is a story to tell. Even though it is only fiction this can lead to a relaxed attitude about violent death. While telling a compelling story, Larsson challenges this comfort with death and examines the social as well as personal consequences.

If I have not scared you away, this book is now available in paperback as well as on CD. If you have a long drive, CD time reported at 16.5 hours, this will keep you awake although speed control could be an issue. The good news is that volume two, The Girl Who Played with Fire, is available in hard cover. I'm hoping someone gives it to me for Christmas.

No, this isn't our mystery blogger, Steve. It isn't Stieg Larsson, wither. It's Kevin. If you recall last week's post about our visit to Marshmallow World, you'll also remember that none of my pictures turned out. Luckily, Kevin took this self portrait with a cut-out of the character that started the whole MW adventure!

What am I reading? Just finished Shiver by Maggie Stievater. Werewolves! I have finally dug into my friend Loreen's manuscript called Tumor Board. More next time.

Thank you's come in all sorts of surprising forms...like the little piece of art above. Let me explain. IndieBound, an organization established to support Independent Booksellers throughout the United States, publishes a flyer each month highlighting bookseller recommendations. They send us advance copies, which read, and sometime eview in short blurbs. If a book receives twelve or more favorable reviews from across the country, the editors will choose one bookseller's comments to use in the flyer.

We are fortunate that, several times a year, our little comments are used. Sometimes I don't even know they are in the flyer until a customer points them out. But, just last week, I got a huge "Thank you" followed by a big surprise. I had written comments about a wonderful children's book called The Listeners, by Gloria Whelan, and IndieBound will use it in their upcoming young readers' flyer. The story is told by Ella May, a little slave girl. After her daylight work is done, Ella May has another important job. She listens beneath her owner's plantation window in hopes of gathering information about the fate of her family and other slave families. She must return to her home with sad news of slave auctions, and planned beatings. And, when the promise of freedom is discussed in hushed tones, Ella May is the first to hear about that as well.

The editor was so thankful that her book made the flyer that she called me personally. The next week, I received a copy of the book in the mail, along with a nice letter from the editor, and a hand written letter from Gloria Whelan. Also included in the gift package was one of the original concept drawing for the book. How lucky am I?

This is what the final art looks like.

Writers, editors, book buyers (and booksellers?) are good people. Let me tell you another story. A few years ago, I received a panic phone call from a Two Rivers teacher. One of her students was dying, and, more than anything else, he waned his dad to read him his favorite book by Mary Casanova. The teacher looked everywhere and came up empty. I found the book for her, and I called Mary's publicist and relayed the story. Within minutes, the wheels were turning, and Mary Casanova called the family. She also sent them several audio versions of her books for the young boy to enjoy.

Last year, I caught up with Mary at a trade show and gave her a small newspaper article I had been saving for her about the little boy. I don't know what she and the boy talked about over the phone, but she was truly moved by the experience, Mary told me that she begins all her speaking engagements with that story.

There are quality people in all our lives, aren't there? My friends are reluctant to blow their own horns, but I know they do good each and every day. The trick is to catch them at it and watch them get uncomfortable when praised. I had some fun with friends this past weekend. Terri, Chris, Kevin, Dan and I had a nice dinner together, with lots of silly talk, and catching up. Then we toured Marshmallow World. Our Heart-A-Rama friend, Rhonda, has a sister named Sherrie. There must be some crazy genes in that family, cuz Sherrie is as creative as Rhonda is exuberant. Years ago, Sherrie wrote a little storybook about a a village of marshmallow people which expanded into a lavish decorating of her house each year.

Every single room in her home is decorated to fit the chosen theme...yes, even her kids' bedrooms, and the bathrooms! Some years, the display is over the top, and I leave shaking my head in amazement and amusement. This year was a bit more subdued, almost elegant in parts, but still fun and impressive. My favorite part is that each year, Sherrie greets people at the door wearing a tree skirt as part of her holiday outfit. (Kevin, if you're reading this, my pictures didn't turn out...no big surprise, huh? so if you have any that I could share, send them along, please. Thanks.)

Thanks for stopping by. I'll try to keep the blog up during this holiday season, but if I miss a week or two, go ahead and read some old posts...or better yet, check out some of the Blog buddies listed at the side.

Hey...have a happy week.

Guilty Pleasure by guest blogger Steven Head

I can't think of a darn thing to say, except, thanks for the confession, Steve. I can name more than a handful of closeted Project Runway watchers. Truthfully, the subject often comes up at our book discussion meetings. Mary is a die-hard fan, and yup, I catch it when I can. But, I gotta say, the week they made clothes out of paper...just too silly! And now it's back to singing along with Ricky Ricardo to get my day going.

And now...Here's Stevie!

As part of a possible rehabilitation I must make a confession. It pains me to admit it but I am a regular follower of the former Bravo and now Lifetime program 'Project Runway'. It all started so innocently while cycling on my recumbent exercise bike, surfing the TV, and finding a PR marathon. During a 45 minute session of rpm's I watched the end of one episode and the start of another. Of course, I had to see how it ended and then bang, there was another. Before I knew it, my Thursday night schedule revolved around the new episodes. Guess this is how addictions start.

For those unfamiliar with this program, 16 fashion designer want-to-be's are assembled and given a challenge along with a small budget and a set time period to design and make a garment. In each episode, at least one contestant gets eliminated while another is declared the challenge winner, and maybe immunity for the next challenge. The challenges can get strange, like designing a costume for female wrestlers, or making a new dress from the wedding dress of a divorcee. The final 3 contestants each do a 12 piece runway show with the winner getting prizes, like money to start their own line and a Saturn car (at least in the past) and Elle magazine coverage. The only constants from one season to the next are model Heidi Klum and fashion guru Tim Gunn. And Heidi's repetitive sound bites like "In fashion, one day you're in and the next day you're out".

One thing that has allowed me to maintain interest in this show is a female friend with an knowledge of fashion and sewing and her willingness to talk about the show. We disagree about some parts of the show but are usually in sync on the contestants and our approval or disapproval of the weekly winner and loser. The other is the discovery of Una LeMarche at huffingtonpost.com and her play-by-play recap along with photos.

This season, which started late in the summer after a long hiatus, marked the move not only from Bravo to Lifetime, but from New York City to Los Angeles. This move meant the other constant, judges Nina Garcia of Elle Magazine, and designer Michael Kors, missed a number of challenges. So each week it was a case of musical judges. Show representatives are blaming the loss of Kors and Garcia as the reason the show has lost one third of the viewers from the Bravo period. Maybe so, maybe not.

The judging this season has been questionable. Even Tim Gunn was moved a time or two to openly question the decision of the judges. My friend thinks the problem is not the ever changing judges but that the show is running out of quality contestants. She contends the best of the current crop are merely dress makers and not designers.

This week is the season finale with the runway show at Bryant Park in New York City during fashion week. In reality, this was filmed months ago but the winner is still a secret except to the contestants and the show staff. In the old days I would have either hosted or found a finale party to attend. But this time I will either mix up some hot chocolate or dish up some ice cream, hoping it all hasn't been a waste of time.

Let me note the next season has already been filmed in which Heidi had to be pregnant for most of it. The show will return to New York City and there are hopes Garcia and Kors can restore the lost viewers. But the real question for me is, are the contestants worthy of my time. By the end of every season there have been whiners, egotists, opportunists, and people you would want to avoid. But all of that can be overlooked, for an hour a week, if they design and make great clothes. For me the burning questions will be, are there any more designers out there?

COMMERCIAL...if you're up for a fun night, stop at Time Out on Wednesday. Our Heart-A-Rama friends, Chad, Jen, and Andy run a fun trivial game show. For three dollars, you can put you name in the contestant pool. You can win a "way to go," high-five, pat on the back, or a box of Rice-A-Roni. The shows are played for various charities, and this week, money collected will go to Heart-A-Rama. Fun starts at 6:00. People come and go throughout the night; no obligation to get there at the start or stay till the end. Maybe we'll see you there.

The Accidental Tourist

On Friday night, my book group meets to discuss The Accidental Tourist, and I can't wait. Although I am not quite finished, I know this book will make it to my Top 10 Favorites list. This is not a new book, but I have avoided it for two reasons. First, I associate it with Geena Davis who starred in the movie...not my favorite performer. Second, I just don't like the cover. Now don't go all cliche on me here and start with the "You can't judge a book by its cover," business, because sometimes you can, and that will be left for a later discussion.

My predictions for Friday: Loved it...Valerie, Jess, and me (which is unusual, since Valerie and I generally disagree; hated it...Nancy and Mary (which is unusual since Mary and I always agree!); for Angie, this will be a take it or leave it book. Steph will say she disliked it, but her comments about it will show differently. We'll see.

Tyler's style was play-like which was it's first appeal for me. Then there was the Waiting for Godot theme. Macon and his wife divorce after their son's death. Many marriages are vulnerable following such an incident, but these two never had a warm relationship to begin with. And Macon...what a guy. He's OC, as is his entire family. He organizes instead of deciding. His over-intellectualizing dulls his emotions, and worst of all, he has never committed to his life. When a quirky, gypsy type invades his space, Macon finds his life going in unexpected directions, and for the first time in his life, he might have to make a decision that could result in accepting shades of grey as life's norm. Pretty disturbing for a guy who spends his life negotiating for perfect balance.

I wonder, is any decision better than no decision? How careful is too careful? If all our actions are always in perfect balance, is there a place for reactions? Don't be dissuaded from reading this book if all this sounds way too serious. Tyler's storytelling is actually quite light-hearted, with family foibles, and eccentricities becoming the platform for the more esoteric thoughts she constructs.

For some reason, I also thought it was time to tackle Anthony Burgess's dystopian novel, A Clockwork Orange for about the 10Th time. The invented language, a symbolic blend of English and Russian challenges me, and slows the reading down. The title comes from an old British saying, "queer as a clockwork orange," and now that I have finally bulldozed my way through, I understand. Fifteen year old Alex Madsat looks like a normal kid, but inside, he is anything but. He is programmed for violence, and Burgess uses his novel as a sort of warning of what the world could become if we don't attend to the ills of society. Even though Burgess, an an avowed anarchist, wrote "Orange" in 1962, his amplification of societal dysfunctions resonates strongly today. Alex, the anti-hero, is totally unapologetic about the mayhem he stirs up with his three companions. They burgal, steal, beat, rape, and eventually murder. Alex is enrolled in a experimental treatment program to cure him of his taste for violence. He is released into society where his victims seek revenge. Although Alex is now repulsed by violence, his victims lust after it, and the tables turn. How successful was the treatment?

Happier thoughts.....last week while browsing at St. Vinnies, I stumbled across 1915 edition of Under Canvas or The Search for the Carteret Ghost. Think about it. This book is almost 100 years old. Inside was the funniest inscription I have ever read - "Merry Christmas to a little boy with a fat neck. Jane and Phil."

What could that possibly mean? Who was the boy with the fat neck, why did he have a fat neck, and more inportantly, why did Jane and Phil think it was Ok to imortalize that fact?

Thanks for stopping by.

Notes Left Behind

Seldom do I get on the inspirational/self-help/miracle/find the easy answer/get rich quick/synchronicity book bandwagon. Much to the chagrin of many customers, I never read The Secret, the rampant popularity of which still baffles me. That's the book that asserts that if you think it, it will come to you. Want fame? Just think about it. Want good fortune? Kick back and wish it so. Sure, I am oversimplifying, but I am not alone in my skepticism. Sadly, my feelings about this book were in part validated a few weeks ago when three people died in a sweat lodge ceremony. The facts have not all been gathered yet, but the man who organized the sweat lodge, and promoted (for a fee) the practices held there, was quoted throughout The Secret. Does that make the entire book bad? Is guilt by association an all-inclusive way to judge someone or something? No, but the connection is troubling.

Onward. About that bandwagon....last week I saw a family being interviewed on a morning talk show, and knew that those inspired by Randy Pausch's The Last Lecture might seek out the book being discussed. It is sure to be a favorite among the soft-hearted crowd. In fact, I predict it will be one of our biggest sellers in the coming months. What impressed me was that the man and woman being interviewed hardly mentioned the book; as a matter of fact, they had to be prompted to promote it at the end of the segment. Their joy came from sharing the memory of their daughter,Elena. I ordered the book for the store, knowing full well that I would read the first chapter, and only the first chapter, just to get a taste, and then put it on display. Something about Elena's parents stuck with me, and so, one Sunday afternoon, and a box of tissue later, I closed the back cover.

Elena Desserich was diagnosed with a brain tumor at age five. Upon receiving the news that would forever change their lives, her parents, Brooke and Keith, made two decisions. First, they would keep a journal all about Elena. They were heading into a black hole, unsure of what waited at the core. In case Elena didn't survive, they wanted everything about her recorded so that her little sister,Gracie, could know her. Second, they vowed (I love this phrase) to squeeze every drop of sunshine out every single moment.

Elena understood that she was sick, but no one really knew the wisdom her little heart held. Elena's wishes were simple....a carriage ride, spaghetti at her favorite neighborhood restaurant, seeing one of her paintings hang in a "real" museum, a wedding dress, and a visit to the Eiffel Tower. All but the last were possible.

What kept me reading was the lack of sentimentality. Mom and dad took turns writing journal entries, focusing on the little questions, requests, and quirks that made their daughter who she was. The writing isn't refined, but it is honest. There are no great truths to be found here, just a simple story of a little girl who loved pink, and whose final request in life was to dance with her daddy.

During her illness, Elena wrote notes to her family. She hid them. Her parents find them tucked between the pages of her coloring books, hidden in drawers, canisters, and secreted into the tiny pockets of their messenger bags. Elena sealed only two notes in envelopes, one for each of her parents. Brooke and Keith say they will never open them. It comforts them to know there will always be one more note from Elena.

**********Here's the annual Halloween picture of my beast waiting for the trick-or-treaters. I spent a whole dollar on her get-up at The Dollar Store. She wore the horns for about ten seconds, but she had a grand time greeting space aliens, bums, and princesses.

Thanks for stopping by.

Greetings and BOO to you

Fine Print on a Saturday? Yup, I'm launching this two days early since I will be at a trade show on Monday. Better early than late, I guess. This way, I avoid the call from an unnamed reader. When the post is not up by noon on Monday, I receive a call inquiring "When?". The tone of speaker varies. Often it is concern...is something wrong? But, there have been days of annoyance...will I be seeing it yet today?...to downright rudeness...if I don't see it in an hour, I'm not reading it again.

I have no idea who it is. I cannot recognize the voice, and caller ID onlh reads "cell number." So, here's to you, dear, unknown reader. sip your coffee, read on, and please know there will not be a fresh post on Monday. Live with it.

Masquers, Manitowoc's awesome community theatre group opened its season last week with "Greetings." Since the HTR no longer reviews shows (a fact I stand and applaud), I have decided to toss around some theatre thoughts from time to time.

Let's begin! Great job Jamie! Jamie Strutz directed, and, for a new, young theatre leader. she has much to offer. Her theatre studies in college provided a nice bag of tricks, and she complements that with solid instincts, an ability to play on nuances, and good old fashioned intuition.

Jamie put together a powerhouse cast, loaded with experience and, and artistic respect. Great seeing Chris Kornely back on stage in a major roll. Chris is a rock, a director's dream. Once she locks in her part, you know she will be consistent and strong. Corrie Skubal and Justin Knapp make a fine team as the star-crossed lovers at the center of the show's conflict . They were comfortable with each other, lending a level of naturalness to their scenes. (I enjoy that on stage, as opposed to the school of theatre that promotes "acting".) Their scenes demanded control, and emotional range. (Lotta kissing for you in this roll, huh, Corrie?)

Each actor found a character, eased into his/her skin, and stayed there throughout the performance. For me, the shining stars on opening night were Rick Gerroll, and Giovanni Navarro, who deserved the starring curtain call position. We all know Rick. No one does curmudgeon better than Rick. He cracks me up. Where most pauses between lines drive me batty, Rick knows exactly how long he can hold out before delivering. I heard a some lobby talk comparing him to Archie Bunker...too easy. Sure, the similarities were there, but theatregoers can always count on Rick to add personal style, and playfulness.

Who knows where this Giovanni Navarro fellow came from, or why he turned up in Manitowoc, but let's hope he stays. The guy has chops. He knows it; you can tell. Giovanni could easily have taken the show and run with it, but he knows how to be an ensemble player which is admirable. His performance reminded be of Leonardo DiCaprio's character in "What's eating Gilbert Grape " but because it was live, the impact was amplified. At first his portrayal of the mentally challenged Mickey troubled me, but then, is that not one of the charges of the arts? Do they not encourage us to take fresh looks at the world, the people around us, and our relationship and reactions to them?

The concept of challenge becomes one of the themes of Dudzick's play -challenge of ideas, traditons, mindsets, and beliefs. Dudzick is hailed as the "Catholic Niel Simon, " but, from my perspective, he has a long way to go to reach Simon's level of artistry. "Greetings" is a derivative show, combining elements of Simon's "God's Favorite" with characteristics of Medieval mystery plays (a little comedy, some Bible references, and a lesson intended to get us to change our evil ways). Throw in a little "ET" (you know, the stranger lands to show us how to be better people) and "The Wizard of Oz" (an unlikely character unites a diverse group ) and you have the makings of a not too original script. Despite that, I enjoyed every minute of it.

As a director (and as a former actor) would I have done things differently than Jamie and her cast? Sure. Theatre is all about choices, and that is one of the attractions. Theatre folk join together to commit art, and the product of their choices - the show that hits the boards - bears the mark crafted by the individuals who had the courage to take on the task. That is the beauty. That is the magic.

Personally, I can do without the curtain talk before the show. I just want the play to start - like it does at the Rep, the Guthrie and other pro companies. No commercials. That's what the program is for. I also get a little distressed when group members hoot through the curtain call, and, in their enthusiasm, initiate the standing ovation. Please, wait. Share the pride in a job well done at the cast party. Let the audience have that last moment to show its appreciation. What a gift for the cast to know the thank-you's are spontaneous and sincere, rather than helped along by "mom and dad" who love them no matter what. But, having been at the back of the house watching shows I have directed, I know that jumping out of your skin with happiness for the cast feeling.

That ends the snarky portion of the review. Not too bad, huh? Oh, here's a little more snarkiness....the Capitol Civic Centre should have been filled. We need to support our local groups; we need to respect the tradition that Masquers has established for arts in the Lakeshore. You have three more chances this year to catch their work...."A Christmas Carol," in December, "Some Enchanted Evening," a musical review, in spring. Their middle show is an Agatha Christie mystery. Boy or boy! Mysteries are had to pull off on stage, but if anyone can do it, Masquers can. Get there if you can.

What am I reading: Alice I Have Been, a new book by Melanie Benjamin. There's a glut of spin-off novels out right now and this one tells the back story of Alice Liddle, the girl who inspired Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

What have I been up to? Last weekend I got a chance to read with Hatrack Storytellers at the Lester Library in Two Rivers. We read Halloween stories to an appreciative audience of about 30. It has been years since I have done any sort of performing. Hatrack was fun, and I got a little reminder of why, long ago, I enjoyed a few trips across a stage. Stacey, Damon, and the lovely little Olivia also read. The mother-daughter team were first time readers, but got the hang of things quickly. I hope we get to read together again.

Damon is an experienced Hatracker. Reading with him is a challenge. He's sneaky, and funny, and gives me the giggles. Once that starts, I can't quit. Damon has a elfish quality that emerges when least expected. Reading with him brings back fond memories of readin with another playful character...Jimmy Mellberg!

On Friday, our book group celebrated our annual Halloween-pizza-movie-and costume extravaganza. Check out Jess as Sophia from the "Golden Girls," Angie as Kate Goslin, and Valerie as Angelina Jolie. Angie even brought a brag book with pictures of her kids. We also had James Patterson, a real housewife of Manitowoc County, and a Little Edie Beale who never quite made it to the gathering. We had lots of chocolate, wine, and other goodies while we discussed "Grey Gardens." I went home still chuckling about the fact that either Nancy's mind is a steel trap for useless information, or she is an adroit lyer skiller at making "facts' up on the fly. Just ask her. She knows everything there is to know about lady bartenders in Colorado. Really! My stomach ached from laughter, and too much pizza.

Thanks for stopping by!

In the Kitchen by guest blogger Steven Head

I spent the weekend visiting my mother, getting her house prepared for the return of winter. A ritual involving furniture rearranging, stowing of hoses, stashing of ceramic pots in the garage, swapping storm window insert for screen in the front door, and a number of trivial but essential chores. Add a couple games of canasta and you just about know everything about the visit.

Most Saturday nights mom goes to a local supper club with a male friend and they dine and dance. This weekend the bandstand was dark so she looked for other possibilities. We agreed on going to see "Julia & Julie" at the old fashion theater from my childhood. I recall summer morning shows for elementary school kids there. For a dime you could win something in a drawing, watch local talent, sing God Bless America led by the theater manager, catch a couple cartoons and the feature. Life was much simpler then.

The striking features of this theater include the series of large repeating art deco panels insets on both walls featuring an M design. The four tier stacked lighting. Each a different color. And stenciled multi-colored design on terraced ceiling panels around the perimeter and right down the middle. It would be a perfect place for a slinky with steps from the projection booth down to the gradually slanted main floor.

My preference for seating in any movie theater is close to the front. I like to be assaulted by the screen, filling my visual field, without obstacles. But I deferred to mom and we sat a little more than halfway back on the main floor. Lots of heads in front of us but an unobstructed view.

I do not have a lot in common with "Julia & Julie" other than the possible exception of enjoying food. It is a rare and welcome occasion when French food, good French food, appears on my plate. I can count the French restaurants I have been to on the fingers of one hand. And there is only one friend who has served French food. Her mother is a French war bride. Say what you will about the French but their food is amazing.

J&J is the parallel story of Julia Childs shared authorship of Mastering the Art of French Cooking with a pair of French women, and Julie, a 20-something woman living in Queens with her husband and working for a government agency handing calls from individuals and families impacted by the twin towers attack. Julia's story reveals her marriage to a diplomat and how they met in the OSS, been stationed in China, and how the McCarthy era touched the life of her husband. Julie's story reveals college friends who have all gone on to 'big things' while she plods along as a government drone, her novel unfinished. All this leads Julie to start a blog with the goal of doing all 524 recipes in Mastering the Art of French Cooking in 365 days.

As you can imagine, both of these stories are filled with challenges, disappointments, and crisis. The stories are both well told, the acting by Meryl Streep as Julia and Stan Tucci as her diplomat husband was superb. I did not recognize, and am too lazy to look up, the young actors playing Julie and husband, who were adequate but lacked the polish of the veterans. And of course the scenery of France was enchanting.

I thoroughly enjoyed this film and recommend it to those who love food and those that don't. My only complaint involves the frequent intrusion of the overhead microphone in multiple scenes. How in the world can so much care and craft go into a project only to be diminished by a distracting microphone? Was the film editor drunk, on drugs, suffering from post-Lasik surgery complications, or the incompetent in-law of a producer? It makes me even more appreciative of all the films where all the little things get done correctly as well as the main business.

...with Apologies to Kate DiCamillo

A continuum of consequences exists in regard to addictions. They creep. They clutch. They control. And worst of all, they cling to one's life with the tenacity of a barnacle. Some have devastating impacts on all aspects of an individual's life. People dealing with addiction recovery agree that the first step in ridding one's life of these pesky disturbances in acknowledgement.

Well...here goes...I am addicted to Eggz. Lest you think I am making light of the larger issue, know that I am not. Know that I am fully aware that on that aforementioned continuum, Eggz addiction barely makes the defining cut-off . Just the same, this little computer game has pecked its way into my day, and will not go away. Despite the warning glued to the top of my computer reading "Bev, no playing computer games," and signed by Ivan the Terrible, I cannot resist a dozen or so games a day.

The game oddly combines the old piano-playing chicken trick, pinball and Skeball, with a mouse controlled version of air-hockey minus the air and the hockey. Once you hit the GO button, the chicken clucks, bobs and plunges the mechanism that shoots an egg to the tip of your arrow. If your mouse, keyboard, computer and arrow are all in perfect alignment, you can hit the left click and start cracking those Eggz. An egg must hit at least two other like colored eggs to clear them from the field, with your goal being to get your egg to crash against the back wall. Additional eggs are laid randomly as you play. Once you hit the wall, you move up a level, and the behind the scene chickens get real busy shooting those eggs out.

I have made it to level 7; there is no answering the phone once I hit this level...after all, level 8 may just be an omelet away. Sometime, I even play when there are customers in the store. I have learned to turn down the sound on those occasions, after being called out one afternoon by an 8 year-old. "I know that sound" she said, "but I just can't get past level 10!" Level 10! There's a level 10? How long can this go on? I am replacing mouse batteries daily due to the incalculable number of mouse taps. Bills are piling up. I haven't seen my friends in weeks, and my dog may be starving for all I know.

I have named the chicken Louise. For weeks, I was calling her Edna, but then I read Kate DiCamillos's book, and realized, I had been mistaken. Louise is just a better chicken name. After a series of adventures with pirates, circus performers, and street vendors in a land far, far away, Louise learns that there is no place like home.

Hmmm...sound familiar? DiCamillo has a charming way of re-inventing favorite themes, and archetypes. Last weekend I watched The Tale of Despereaux which calls upon the the hero-quest storyline, along with number of comfortable fairy tale elements. If you haven't read the book or seen the movie, do it soon.

I wonder if Kate remembers me? Two years ago, I frightened the bejeepers out of her at a trade show. Against my better judgement, I went to St.Paul, armed with some crazy antibiotics to combat a stubborn infection. The infection, the stress of being sick, and the lack of sleep due to worry about traveling, ...well, eventually, and at the most importune time, I hit an ugly wall.

I happened to sit down at a table with Kate DiC, and her publicist. My stupor first took me on a rambling one-woman performance on how much I loved all of her books, giving her an oral history of everything she had ever written, as if she didn't know. I was winding down, when The Journey of Edward Tulane came to mind, and that is where I lost it. The thought of that little bunny, Edward, falling overboard, and floating toward an uncertain future, was too much and I broke down sobbing. Poor Kate. She looked terrified. Surely I blubbered something about being tired and sick. I bent down to grab a tissue from my knapsack stashed beneath the table, and when I reappeared, they were gone.

I am sorry Kate. I am not a nut. But then, you don't know that for sure, do you? You write about talking mice, and rats, and bunnies, and princesses who long for soup. In that realm, you are at home, comfortable, and safe. You were supposed to be at the trade show to accept the 2009 Midwest Booksellers Choice Award for Best Children's Picture Book...Louise, the Adventures of a Chicken. Instead, someone from your publishing house accepted the honor. He never said why you weren't there.

I Love to Go A-Wandering (NOT!) well...sometimes!

If you know me well, you know that for me, there's no place like home. But, I managed to get out and about last week, without being overly traumatized. First, it was off to St. Paul for the annual, regional book trade show. This has become routine for me each fall, and there are sights, places and people I look forward to seeing each year...the awesome, first glimpse of the Mississippi, the park adjacent to the convention hall that pays homage to F. Scott Fitzgerald, and my favorite Peanuts characters, the brew pub across from the park, and the little artsy shops lining the street. Although St. Paul bustles, it is a friendly city, and I could easily live there. No one pushes, or mumbles, or snaps, or beeps horns.

Neighborhoods! Where have they gone? How nice would it be to have all your needs within walking distance? In addition to the mundane necessities, my needs would include a performing arts center, a movie theatre, a bookstore, and an authentic Mexican restaurant. From my current neighborhood, I can walk to a bar, a bank, and a temple. I suppose I could make it the nearest convenience store, but the uphill return would take days, and my survival would be questionable.

The trade show kept me busy for a couple days, and of course, the highlight was meeting authors, and getting a peek at new books. Now I will drop names - Neil Gaimen (The Graveyard Book) Robert Goolrick (The Good Wife), Vicki Myron (Dewey), Lauren Stringer (Snow), Ingrid Law (Savvy), David Wrobleswski (The Story of Edgar Sawtell). These are just a few of the rock star writers and award winners I was lucky enough to meet. The beauty of this event is that these writers not only speak at special events throughout the conference, they stick around and help man/person? their publisher's displays, and spend time chatting. You would be surprised at how many writers have heard of Manitowoc - many recognizing the name from hotel ice machines, and even getting close to the correct pronunciation!

Mike Perry! I look forward to catching up with him each year. This year we chatted about his growing Manitowoc fan base, including two loyal readers, Pat and Margarette, who he has come to recognize by face, if not by name. We talked about his choice to home-school, which has some readers puzzled, confused, and angered. Mike explained that the decision is not a condemnation of the public school system, but rather an opportunity to have his children travel with him.

After a fast, filled, and overwhelming show, nothing was nicer than seeing that big, brown "Welcome to Wisconsin" sign as I crossed the state line at 11:30 on Sunday night.

The picture at the top is Big Horn Lake in Townsend, Wisconsin, about two hours northwest of here. The cabin at the right is one of several once owned by my great grand-parents. Inspired by Sara Rath's novel, Star Lake Saloon and Housekeeping Cottages, I decided it was time to return to this place filled with happy, childhood memories. I found it easily, and the rustic, name plaque nailed to a tree told me that the little fishing "village" is still owned by a distant family member. That is good. No one was around, but I did some exploring anyway. The out houses are still there, although I didn't get close enough to determine if they were functional, or simply left as quirky icons of long ago.

Immediately, I was struck with the memory of pleasant quietness. There are no motor boats on Big Horn Lake. Water laps to the shore, and if you're patient, a fish will jump and splash. That's all for sound on a calm day. The sky and water are both a perfect, sapphire blue. Breathtaking. One of my favorite pass times when we were at the cottages was to float in an inner tube to the middle of the lake and watch the fish, and fiddle with the lily-pads. The water was, and is, clear. I assume the lake is still filled with blue gill and northern.

Some changes have been made. A few new, sweet little cottages have been added to the land, just big enough to sleep two of three people. The fish cleaning shanty has been removed. Fish guts! I can't believe I ever scraped and scaled fish, let along watched my grandfather slice and gut them, but spending time with him remains one of my fondest memories.

I wasn't sure what I would find in Townsend, or how I would feel about seeing the cabins and the lake again. I was afraid that the calm, rustic, happy place in my mind could turn out to be a series of run down shacks, crammed together down some scary,out of the way, road, leading to a muddy, sucker-filled, mosquito infested pond. That was not the case. I am lucky, and maybe I will go back again.

*****TV update. I pulled the plug on dish Network. My 120 channel package, when analyzed, turned out to be too many to count infomercial channels, repeated channels, channels in foreign languages, or 24 hour news channels. 120 of them for sure, but only four or five worth watching. So, I am without TV viewing capabilities for a while. I will look at it as an experiment in hermit-like living and see how it goes.

In addition to the TV business, I also declared a moritorium on needless car travel. Wouldn't you know, right off the bat, I discovered that I had left the book I was reading on my desk at LaDeDa. Torn between my vow to finish one book before opening another, and my decision to think twice before setting out on a ten minute journey that would surely wind up taking me on hours of unplanned adventures, I paced. I bit my fingenails. I walked the dog. I dusted, and rearranged the furniture. I looked up the number for Comcast, and I wrote it down. Then I blindly grabbed a book off the shelf and settled in for a wonderful Sunday afternoon with Under the Tuscan Sun.

Thanks for stopping by.