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Saturday, September 26, 2009

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things (1 of 1)

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As I sit here working in my home office each day I often reflect on how fortunate I am. I have a small pension I started receiving upon retirement from my government job of many years, then I started my own business doing creative things I love to do, and I’m relatively fit. I have healthy kids who turned out better than I could have ever hoped for, my mom and stepdad are still with us (having lost my dad many years ago we then found my wonderful stepdad who must reside in a nursing home now but he’s adorable and always happy to see us), I have wonderful step-siblings, amazing pets, and last but not least, a large group of friends who are all totally nuts. (Don’t protest. You know it’s true.)

Today I’m feeling a bit frazzled as I approach my participation with a craft booth at the Sonoma County Harvest Fair (which is the first weekend of October and in case you are away from a calendar that’s NEXT WEEK). I’ve decided to take a few minutes away from the sewing machine to prepare this week’s blog. Writing helps me sort things out and calms me down. I need calming down.

I thought this week I would share a few of my favorite things. This list isn’t in any particular order, which is why I didn’t number the items. Each of these “favorite things” is special to me in some way. I’ve already mentioned family, friends, and pets above so this list is outside of that area. I am not going to spoil the surprises by telling you what you are about to see though some of the links give the contents away. Click on the links and depending on your browser you may simply be able to exit the page and return to this list again. However, some browsers are more picky and you will have to do whatever you have to do to return here.

My favorite number from a musical: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0szHqIXQ2R8

My favorite song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=okd3hLlvvLw

My favorite person: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PbUtL_0vAJk

My favorite movie featuring my favorite actor: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3UzqqHuB3U

My favorite piano piece: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFSRs7iqAv8

My favorite insanity: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PpxQp3Hy5nk

My favorite tribute concert (with a special clip): http://vodpod.com/watch/1418061-eric-clapton-preston-isnt-it-a-pity

My favorite TV show: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qZGz1Ajg7QU

My favorite quote. (Nothing to click on here.) It’s better to be alone than in bad company.” (George Washington)

My favorite place on the planet w/special farewell tribute to Iz: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ltAGuuru7Q

My favorite flower. (Wish the computer had a scent application!) http://www.robhaines.co.uk/images/Daphne_odora_Walberton_RHS_Wisley_040215.JPG

My favorite food: http://www.chocolate-world.net/images/Chocolate.png

My favorite comedians: (I can’t pick just one.) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b9pKLL27YYQ&feature=related and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvgN5gCuLac

My favorite overture: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NEzEa_LUy84

My favorite duet: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CX-6Ej2lnwg

My favorite pre-teen novel: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jane_Eyre

My favorite author: http://www.twainquotes.com/quotesatoz.html

My favorite religion: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/j/joseph_campbell.html

My favorite sport(s): http://irish-1000-guineas-betting.com/the-worlds-silliest-sports/

My favorite politician: (Nothing to click here.) "I'll be long gone before some smart person ever figures out what happened inside this Oval Office." George W. Bush, Washington, D.C., May 12, 2008

My favorite mood adjustment: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5gpBncR8zI

After I started I realized I could go on and on but I certainly feel fantastic after that little trip down memory lane. I hope you enjoy some of my favorite things and I urge you to start your own list. I might do this annually and challenge myself by adding new things each year!

When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad!

-Mary Poppins

Songs:
Richard M. Sherman
Robert B. Sherman
Score:
Irwin Kostal

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

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Saturday, September 19, 2009

How To Not Drown (Part 1 of 1)

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I just checked the temperature before sitting down to write. It’s 95 degrees and it’s 2 p.m. Before coming in here to my office I got a cup of coffee. While waiting for it to heat up I stood in front of my kitchen window and allowed myself to be blasted by very hot air streaming in from the outside through my open window. I always open my windows when it’s hot. Most people close down their homes, pull down the shades, and wait for the heat to come as though waiting for a hurricane. I am one of those rare individuals who prefer hot weather to cold weather and I do not like moderate temperatures--I like it hot. I have a few friends who also like hot summer days and we all get excited when we hear the temperature is rising and we’re in for a heat spell.

I live in a cooler climate area with a coastal influence (Sonoma County, California). Much of our county, but not all, gets a lot of summer fog that rolls over the hills from the Pacific. I happen to live in a town that gets the fog. It lifts around noon or sometimes—not at all. For many years prior to living here I have lived in areas with real summers. Summers where you can sit outside until midnight sipping something refreshing and not even need a sweater. If I did that here I’d need my sleeping bag. For many years after moving here I kept a fog calendar on my desk. People who do not like heat do not realize how much fog and cold weather we have in the summer. When anyone said “Oh, we’re having such a great summer” I’d pull out the calendar and point out how many crappy days we’d had. It is depressing to spend the summer in sweaters.

Recently, and in fact, for this entire summer, we have had many very hot days and a few hot nights. Yesterday was quite hot for this area, in the 90s, and the house was still warm at about 9:00 p.m. I had all my doors and windows open for a breeze and though it usually comes about 4:30, last night it didn’t come until about 9:00. Though I love the heat, I do not like a stifling evening house. If the evening breeze doesn’t come or if there is no breeze at all, the house becomes an oven. Because our area does not routinely get hot weather many homes here do not come with air conditioning. It’s used infrequently here so why incur the expense? However, I work in my home office and when it’s 90 degrees in this room and I have deadlines I need relief, so I bought a freestanding air conditioner. If I have nothing lined up to do, I can sit quite comfortably in the heat and read or listen to music. I also sleep better when it’s hot. For some reason my hot flashes aren’t as severe when it’s very hot. Must be some sort of body temperature adjustment. Heat for me is better than a hot flash because my flashes come with burning skin. I know—TMI.

The air conditioner unit is not a swamp cooler and it does not require installation in a window or wall. It stands alone, has wheels, has a vent you slip into your window to direct the hot air exhaust to the outdoors, and can be moved to any room where you need a little cool air.  I’ve had it about three years and have rarely used it. I don’t think I used it last summer at all. I have used it this summer more than in the past few summers I’ve had it. If I have company I can wheel it to the dining room for dinner because most of my friends and family won’t come over here unless I do.

One of my fondest childhood memories is of swimming in lakes, rivers, and pools. I learned to swim very early and my parents indulged my love of the activity and frequently managed to take me places where I could swim. I was one of those kids who had to be forcibly removed from the water with the threat of punishment. When I left the water I resembled a prune. This, I believe, is when I developed my love of heat.  The hotter the weather the more I could swim. I could swim from early in the morning until very late at night depending on where we would go.

My family liked to camp and we often went to a super hot region in northern California for a couple of weeks a year. Dad had a small ski boat and we both would ski and swim all day. My mother would sit under a tree because she never learned how to swim. She tried many times but never got the hang of it. Partly it was because she had a major fear of the water which inhibits learning how to swim. She wore a lifejacket when she got anywhere near the water or the boat.

Sometimes when we were in that area of California we would be warned by the camp attendants to either carefully watch our fires or to not have a fire at all. The fire danger is tremendous in that area and it would be easy to get trapped up there with no way to escape a forest fire. Since that early childhood admonition I have always felt guilty for loving the heat of summer. I know that with the heat comes tremendous danger from fires and I usually try to keep my mouth shut during this season except for my closest friends. A friend emailed me last night that I must be in heaven because the weather forecast calls for three days of triple digit heat. She was right. I eagerly anticipate the heat and have already lined up my gardening plans and my sitting-on-the-swing plans with a book. I won’t be able to do that as much as I would like because I’m working very hard preparing for a craft event, but I will get some heat. I love gardening in the heat. I can only take it for about 30 minutes at a crack but then I come in the house, hydrate, and head back out. I wear a hat and sun block. I like the heat but not skin cancer.

So what does this heat diatribe have to do with the title of my blog this week? Plenty. Each summer we hear sad reports of drownings. Most are children but we often hear of young adults drowning. I suspect the former is sometimes, but not always, poor adult supervision, and the latter is sometimes, but not always, alcohol or drugs. We often hear of drownings in rivers or the ocean. My mother would never in a million years wander into a river or the ocean without a lifejacket and even then would only go in about as far as her ankles.

A few days ago I heard a disturbing report on the evening news about the increase in drownings during heat spells. I instantly felt another guilt mode approaching. It made sense. Long hot weather that lasted for days or weeks would eventually draw even the most timid swimmer to the cooling waters. Perhaps they are so distraught over the heat that they forget they CAN’T swim. I apologize for liking the heat and know there are fire dangers and drownings and that it isn’t in the best interest of our communities to have too much heat due to the drain of resources and danger.  But . . . some like it hot.

I do not recall ever taking formal swimming lessons. My dad taught me how to swim but more than that, he taught me how to not drown. Sounds silly because you would think if you know how to swim you won’t drown. That’s not necessarily true. Even swimmers sometimes have trouble in certain waters though usually they can manage it better than a novice swimmer. But dad taught me a technique that anyone can do without any problem and they do not need to know how to swim. In other words, with this technique if someone falls into water and can’t swim and can’t immediately figure out a way to get out of the water this is what they can do which just might save them. (People who do not exercise on a regular basis and decide to spend a day at the beach are in for big trouble if they go out too far in the water and this technique is especially helpful for these folks.)

All that is necessary is that you tilt your head back as far as it will go, as far as your neck can bend, look straight up at the sky, and let your body simply relax. You will float. Panic and flailing your arms and legs is the technique used for drowning. Tilting your head back is the technique used for living. Of the two techniques, your best bet is the latter. Your entire body then may or may not be on top of the water but as long as you keep your head staring at the sky as though you were reclining in your bed, you will float. Your body may float down a bit but that’s okay. It may even be more down than up. Don’t worry about the elevation of your body. All bodies are different. The key is keeping your head tilted as far back as you can manage. Your body will accommodate that position and place you in relative safety. It’s a good idea to practice this to get the feel for it. Do not think you are drowning because your head is not completely above water. It won’t be. Only your face will be out of the water. That’s all you need.

You can stay this way for quite some time though water temperature will be a failure factor eventually depending on where you have your accident. Riptides and currents and waves may be a factor as well if you are in the ocean or a river, but often with a riptide and/or current if you just remain relaxed with your head all the way back, you might get lucky and someone will come to your rescue or you may be carried by a current down the way to a safer area to attempt swimming to shore. The water may lap at your forehead and cheeks but your eyes, nose and mouth will remain out of the water. A little water splashing in your face during this period will not kill you. Gulping large quantities of water will kill you. Keep your mouth and nose out of the water but do not worry about splashing water. Tilt the head as far as you can. It forces your body to float. I repeat: tilt your head back as far as you can. Make it your summer mantra. Even if you are a swimmer, you could accidentally fall in the water somewhere where it might be a while before you can get out.

I have often used this method when I have found myself too far away from shore and too tired for real swimming. The minute I realize I have a problem (because people who love water always seem to go too far for too long) I simply slip into my tilted head position and after a few minutes when I’ve caught my breath I add a little foot paddling and a little hand paddling (not panicky kicking and thrashing) and soon I’m able to get back to shore. Sometimes the kicking and paddling elevates the body and this allows you to get to shore more quickly. This method is similar to treading but treading takes energy and if you have none or do not know how to tread and you are in the middle of a body of water, you just have to tilt your head and do nothing (until you regain your energy and composure and then use your dry brain to figure a way out of the situation).

Some people can’t tread. I don’t know why because it’s easy and if you are tired from treading for too long you can easily tilt your head and slow the treading till you feel rested. My dad could tread so fiercely you could see his waist and the top of his swim trunks! He only did this to impress me and it worked. And he could not sustain this display for long. I do not, nor have I ever, had that type of strength. And it’s not necessary. I’ve stayed in deep water a very long time by doing a simple slow tread with alternate head tilting to relax and catch my breath for a swim in to shore.

Once when I was perhaps seven or eight, my parents and I spent the day at the beach in Santa Cruz. Santa Cruz has fun waves and I absolutely loved swimming there. I always went out further than I should have and once got stuck. I kept getting pulled under then spit out and each time I got back up I saw my mother on the shore—waving at me. I tried to wave for rescue but they thought I was happily waving back and playing in the waves. I was actually drowning. I was desperately trying to swim back in and instead I was being sent every which way but in. In fact, I was headed out. Once I got out a ways I was exhausted and when I looked at my parents, my mother waved me in. If only.

Finally, I decided to rest and see where I’d end up. I tilted my head back and waited a while and when I finally looked to shore I found I was quite a distance from our picnic area and my mother was walking down the beach looking at me. She waved her arms again and I almost cried. I knew I was headed to Japan.

Eventually there was a way through the waves for me to sort of slip back in. By this time I was totally exhausted. I went back to the picnic blanket and was scolded about going out so far and also scolded that when I’m told to come back in I must do what I’m told. I decided not to explain that I was drowning.

Santa Cruz also has a great river that feeds into the ocean and many kids would jump off the adjoining cliffs into the water. Sometimes we would accidently jump in at the wrong point and the river water would take us out to sea! Ah, those were the good ole’ lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer.

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

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Friday, September 11, 2009

9/11 (Part 1 of 1)

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When my kids were in college I would drive to visit them around this time each September because my mother and son have birthdays one day apart, the 12th and 13th, respectively. But I always started with my daughter who was at CSU Chico and she would give me gifts to transport to her grandmother and brother.  After a few days with her I’d drive to Ukiah to visit my parents for mom’s September 12th birthday, then I’d drive to my son’s place at CSU Sacramento for his birthday on September 13th. I’d take a week or so off to relax with my family and drive around northern California during that special week.

On the morning of 9/11, having spent a relaxing few days visiting with my daughter, I planned to leave her place to head for Ukiah for mom’s birthday on the 12th. My daughter and I planned to sleep in then go out to breakfast before she went to classes and then later to work and then as usual I would drive to mom’s. However, the phone started ringing very early. My daughter’s friend was literally screaming for us to get up and turn on the TV. I remember my daughter was annoyed because she so seldom had a chance to sleep in and we had planned a relaxing morning. She also didn’t have cable so we were limited to antenna TV channels.

It is my foggy recollection that she didn’t catch what he told her, just that we had to immediately get up and turn on the TV. By this time I was on my feet headed to the living room but she continued to whine about the intrusion and went back to bed. It was a small apartment so she heard sounds coming from the TV and correctly assumed it was an airplane crash. She asked me questions about the crash from the bedroom but I was speechless so she got up. I was groggy and stunned at what I was seeing and literally could not put it all together. I don’t think many of us did at first. In fact, I never have.

After a few minutes I started to comprehend a bit what we were watching. My daughter stood in the corner of the room for a very long time and I switched the TV from fuzzy channel to fuzzy channel trying to soak up the latest information from every news source I could find. They were all reporting almost the same information and no one seemed to have an edge so I settled on CBS and left it there.

Like millions of others we then saw the second plane hit the second tower. It was at this moment that I believed we were under attack by a foreign country. (I still believe that. More on that in a moment.) I was literally paralyzed. When news came about another plane hitting the Pentagon and a plane crash in Pennsylvania, I absolutely knew it had to be an attack by a foreign country and I fully anticipated reports coming from Chicago, San Francisco, and all other major cities. I called my mother and told her to turn on her TV then I called my son and told him to turn on his radio or to get online. (He did not, and still does not, have cable. His TV is only connected to a DVD player.  Because of 9/11 he called his cable company and had it installed for a period of about a year then once again had it disconnected.)

There are many more details of my personal memory of the 9/11 events that unfolded but that is the gist of it. It was scary but the news reporters were doing their very best to calm an entire country and in fact the entire world. We all know what can happen if we lose our grip. There are so many nuclear warheads in existence that we could easily obliterate our entire world population in an afternoon. That of course was my initial thought, that this was the beginning of the nuclear holocaust we had all been dreading. I had no idea what to do or where to go. My family and friends were spread out all over the country and I was miles away from my own home. So many of us were stuck somewhere away from home during that event. People on vacations, people on business trips, people in other parts of the world, far far away from “home.”

Over the following months and years people in the news media urged us to move on, to put it all behind us, to remember those who lost their lives and to be brave and pay attention to those around us.  Life had gone back to almost normal it seemed. We had to show the evil planners of this horrific event that Americans were strong and could continue with life no matter what they threw at us.

I watch old movies and see the Twin Towers in many of those movies. The moment I see them I am filled with sadness. When I see the Pentagon on the news I feel a little catch in my stomach. If I even hear the word Pennsylvania in any report I catch my breath. 9/11 has affected me in much the same way Pearl Harbor affected my parents. My mother has never forgotten Pearl Harbor and I can’t seem to move on from 9/11. Each year as the formerly happy period of the month approaches a small cloud follows me around until this very day, September 11. The day before my mom’s birthday, and two days before my son’s birthday. I can’t move on.  Just sitting here writing about it should be helpful and cathartic but instead it’s dredging up profound feelings of sadness for the loss and confusion about the truth. I do not believe we know the truth. Maybe that’s why I can’t “move on.”

There are hundreds of conspiracy theories about the events of 9/11. I do believe Osama bin Laden was the figurehead and a major player but not without the help of Iran or Libya or Yemen or Lebanon or all of them and more--and let us not forget that 15 of the murderers were renegades from Saudi Arabia, our “friends.”

I’ve spent way too much time reading the theories and some are simply ludicrous and some have science behind them. Some conspiracy theorists claim the buildings did not collapse just because of the crashing planes but were further demolished through the use of explosives (planted weeks or months prior to the plane attacks) much like we sometimes see when old buildings are demolished. I once viewed a Twin Tower video where the narrator highlighted each explosion on each floor about halfway down in the buildings. But this theory is rejected by the National Institute of Standards and Technology and by the American Society of Civil Engineers who both concluded that the jets filled with fuel and flying at high speeds and the subsequent fires were solely responsible for the total demolition of the buildings. Not all of the engineers agree with the official conclusion.

Then there are theories and official conclusions that state our security agencies knew “something” was going to happen (see 9/11 Commission Report below in its entirety) of an enormous magnitude but the when, where and how of it escaped them. Security agencies in the world are aware if you flush your toilet so I don’t believe that for a minute. I don’t know why they didn’t move into action to prevent the disaster but as we all know, government moves in mysterious ways, and frequently binds up and doesn’t move at all. There are even theories that aliens from outer space directed bin Laden. There are theories that it was the beginning of the Biblical Armageddon.  

There are also many “coincidences,” perhaps as many coincidences as there are conspiracy theories. One is that Al-Qaeda’s Mohammed Atta’s luggage (actual physical leader of the attack) didn’t make it to his flight and papers were later “discovered” listing all of the murderers. It’s a fantastic neat little coincidence that this found luggage provided “factual information” on who was behind this atrocity.  Sort of wrapped it all up in a nice tidy bow. Lost his luggage, his luggage had the list of who did it, case closed. 

The FBI investigation into the attacks was the largest and most complex investigation in the history of the FBI. Because of interrogations of U.S.S. Cole bombing suspects in Yemen, the FBI linked the hijackers to al-Qaeda. They determined that al-Qaeda, headed by Osama bin Laden, had sole responsibility for the attacks. Author Laurie Milroy in an article in the conservative political magazine The American Spectator in 2006 theorized that Khalid Sheikh Mohammed and his family are the primary architects of 9/11.

The Inspector General of the CIA reviewed the CIA's pre-9/11 performance and stated CIA officials did not do enough to monitor increasing threats of terrorism, including failing to stop two of the 9/11 hijackers, Nawaf al-Hazmi and Khalid al-Mihdhar, as they entered the United States. Everyone knew those two were up to no good. There are or were teens in Guantanamo who may or may not know anything about the past, present, or future, but for all the scandal coming from Gitmo very little concrete information has be divulged to the public. We have only learned about methods of interrogation and more theories about how those methods do or do not work.

And on it goes. If we spend even one hour researching the events of 9/11 it becomes clear immediately that something just isn’t right and there is no real conclusion other than the true story is fragmented and lacking and not conclusive. Even if we read and view only the agenda based media those trash mongers truly don’t have manageable conspiracy theories on all that happened before, during, and after the catastrophe. Or what lies ahead. Usually they just make things up to suit their causes but they have never come up with much of a theory either. Except that going to Iraq would solve the entire matter and we all know how that has worked out.

On 9/11 over 3,000 people lost their lives, and over 6,000 were injured. Many of the dead and injured were heroes trying to help suffering people in the buildings and on the streets and each other as they succumbed to fumes, falling debris, fire, and were trapped in stairways. That’s over 9,000 people and each person had a mother, a father, a brother, a sister, a daughter, a son, a husband, a wife, an aunt, an uncle, a cousin, a niece, a nephew, a friend, a pet. The loss is unfathomable and I for one am not going to get over it and I’ll never stop feeling sadness and pain for everyone lost on and after September 11 and also for all the lives that are being lost in Iraq (over 4,000) and Afghanistan (over 700) every day chasing the elusive Osama bin Laden, one cog in a huge unknown wheel.


http://www.9-11commission.gov/report/911Report.pdf

(You’ll need really strong coffee or hard liquor to get through it, but give it a try.)

www.sharonstrawhandgarner.com

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Saturday, September 5, 2009

How Green Was My Valley (Part 1 of 1)

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Sometimes after a few days of depressing news about world, national, and local events, I need an attitude adjustment. Without it, I start wishing I lived in a cave in a forest with only the bears and squirrels for companionship. This is especially true after trying to find something to watch on TV after a long day only to find the fanaticism of competitive and reality TV programming. But I have a secret that always brings me back from the brink and then once again I am proud to call myself human. Watching the movie How Green Was My Valley does this.[i]

This movie came out in 1941. I wasn’t born until 1945. I don’t recall how old I was the first time I saw this wonderful, heartwarming movie, but it has always lessened my concern about the serious decline in human behavior. The story is simple. It’s about a coal mining family in South Wales. The story moves from relative happy times in the community to troubled times. Coal mining communities have always been tight knit, hard working communities, and always one step away from disaster. Mining improvements have been made in some parts of the world but we continue to hear of explosions and lost lives from poorly regulated mining operations.

The storyline of HGWMV, however, is about character and honor and dignity and hard work and devotion to family and neighbors and friends. It takes place in a mining village but it could be any village (or any community) anywhere where struggling for survival and a decent life is the driving force behind every action of every person. The bond in communities such as these spreads as the communities send forth their children to make their way in the world, children raised to care about the world and other people and the land and how it’s all connected.

John Ford directed this movie. In two hours he presents a saga of this village through dialog, music, and action that transports the viewer in such a way that when the movie concludes we feel we know these people, we feel we have always known them, and we love them.

I have the added benefit of a side story to this movie. I have a friend from Wales. We’ve discussed this film many times and she has confirmed that the story is realistic based on the history of the coal regions and other communities within Wales. My friend has been in the U.S. many years now (and is a citizen) but still has the faint accent that is so distinctive to the Welsh. People have often asked her where she is from because her accent is different from others we hear in that part of the world. We have often discussed life in Wales (though of course she was born many years later than the time period of the film). This “back story” she has provided simply makes me love the movie even more.

As I’ve mentioned in previous blogs, I work in my home office each day and watch movies on my computer provided by Netflix and their “instant play” selections. Depending on the craft I’m preparing on a given day, I select movies accordingly. Yesterday, I had detailed handwork on my task list and was able to select a movie that I could watch closely and still work at the same time. The news as usual has been depressing with kidnapping victims being found (happy news in one respect if your brain is able to delete the 18 years she was held in captivity), the healthcare debate, the housing mess, the wars, the loss of wilderness areas due to environmental changes, the “anniversary” of 9/11 approaching, and so forth. I dug in to my Netflix selections and there it was. I have no idea how many times I’ve watched this movie but it’s easily more than 20.

As we get older we sometimes look at our childhoods as places of infinite joy and happiness and see the world then as perfect. How many times have we listened to a senior citizen wax and wane on the good life in the “old days”?  I suppose it’s nice to look back with fond memories but to look back and not see the world that was around you is problematic in the ongoing struggle to improve life today [those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it].

I have not gone in that direction. I was born at the end of World War II and times were very difficult for most of our parents and their parents before them. I have not looked at my childhood life with rose-colored glasses. I do not believe they were the “good old days” globally or locally. My personal childhood was good but I was aware of families around me who were not living the life I lived. In fact, few of us ever truly had the good old days. Life is tough. We are sometimes tricked into thinking it isn’t because we have so many wonderful modern things to help us travel and live in decent homes and food is plentiful in progressive nations. But everywhere in life, even in our country, there is despair and unhappiness.

This is also the theme of HGWMV but we are so fractionalized in our modern society that it’s hard to find the bonding and support systems found in this film. It’s here and I know it is, but it’s just harder to find. In the movie it was all around them. Today, especially when flipping through the TV, we see horrific examples of humanity on Jerry Springer, Big Brother, Kendra, The Kardashians, Dr. Phil, and countless others. Did these people exist in some form in How Green Was My Valley? Were they omitted from the storyline to keep the movie clean and wholesome? Surely there were blaggards and scoundrels in these communities. Were they as evil as Phillip Garrido?

When we read the classic heart-wrenching stories about the human march from cradle to grave (Dostoevsky, Cervantes, Shakespeare, Dickens [the master of blaggards and scoundrels]) we are reminded that all of the Phillip Garridos and his like were there then as well. Dickens’ stories are full of hateful, nasty people. But the old masters also wrote about the heroes, the ordinary heroes that pull us through as a society. Many of these heroes in classic literature were poor, wretched people, with tremendous strength of character. In Dickens’ weekly serials people could get a taste of good and evil that would last them for another week to help keep them going.

Today the march continues to be tough, quality TV programming (our primary source of entertainment) is spotty, movies are often disappointing and movie theaters are filled with smelly foods and rude people, neighborhoods are places where people live solely within their homes and do not know their neighbors (mine included), employment is full of disingenuous people trying to defeat the efforts of their coworkers, road rage, parking lot rage, murders, religious superiority contests, shootings at schools (yesterday at a college), kidnappings, pedophiles, home invasions--and I have to stop.

It isn’t good to dwell on the horrors around us. In earlier times people left the harsh realities of life by joining together at the end of the day, shutting out the struggles they faced before they began the struggle all over again the next day. They didn’t watch reality TV or have world events streaming to them all night. They were together and that was what they wanted and needed.

I needed that recently and found it (again) in How Green Was My Valley. Try it.


[i] How Green Was My Valley [1941]; Novel by Richard Hewellyn; Directed by John Ford; Cast:  Walter Pidgeon, Maureen O’Hara, Anna Lee, Donald Crisp, Roddy McDowall (as the child storyteller, Huw Morgan)

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