Here's a few pics:
and here's a sub-minute video:
Just saw them for the first time this year, earlier today, $3.99 each, stems somewhat shorter than what I recall from last year. Have grabbed three, and they're scheduled as part of dinner.
Here, an observation on where a book contradicts -- gratuitously, in my opinion -- the real world, in a way that even a five-year-old might spot and find confusing.
I'm a volunteer literacy tutor, through a greater-Boston-area organization. I've been doing this, once a week (during the school year) for five of more years, and tend to work with third graders. Today, one of the books was one of Arnold Lobel's FROG AND TOAD books, which each contain five short tales.
Today, as we were about to start, my tutee and I found ourselves asking what was the difference between a frog and a toad. I confess I didn't know, so we looked it up.
In the illustrations for this FROG AND TOAD book, both Frog and Toad look like frogs; even ignoring the anthropomorphia, they've got the same eye shapes.
They're both frogs. It took about a minute (Googling "toad versus frog" to determine this.
Now, maybe Toad is simply a frog named Toad. Or possibly, shades of Tock the watchdog in Norman Juster's THE PHANTOM TOLLBOOTH, Toad's parents were expecting a toad.
For any kid who can tell the difference between a frog and a toad, this cognitive dissonance might be confusing, even distressing. And it's unnecessary.
I'm happy to overlook, even waive that Frog seems to often be farther away from water than he ought to be.
I conceded that "Frog" and "Toad" are more direct (and gender-neutral) than, say, "Frog One" and "Frog Two," or "Joe Frog" and "Bill Frog."
But unless there's some explanation in one of the other stories why Toad looks to be a frog, I think Toad should look like a toad.
The movie was, in my opinion, "[coital-synonym-gerund-used-as-a-positive-comparative-modifier deleted ] incredible." Arguably the best movie version of a comic book that I can think of. It was as good as I'd hoped for. It was a good movie, and seemed like it would make sense even to someone who had not read the comics now was a comic book reader.
The source for the WATCHMEN movie was the 12-issue comic book limited series from DC Comics published in 1986-1987 (and collected into booklike trade and hardcover book versions readily available from book stores, comic stores, the Science Fiction Book Club, or your local library).
When Alan Moore and Dave Gibbon's ground-breaking WATCHMEN comic book series came out in 1985 and 1986, I had the good fortune to not only be buying and reading comic books again (I'd had a few few-year hiati), but was also reading/participating in comic book discussions online, through the Usenet rec.arts.comics.* Newsgroups.) Aside from the too-rare feeling of sharing the experience of reading a great comic, eagle-eyed fans spotted easy-to-miss clues, speculated on what was going on (not as spoilers, just great guessing), providing a form of as-you-go commentary/annotation. It was a great way to be reading great comics.
The premise/setting/plot of WATCHMEN, in brief, is that it's 1985 in an alternate-history where Nixon is still (thank to term limits being changed) president, and the Cold War with Russia is intense, with the "Doomsday Clock" -- likelihood of nuclear war -- at five minutes to twelve. This world's first generation masked/costumed crimefighters, including those banded together as the Minutemen, have retired; the newer generation, the Watchmen, are out of action (or working for the government) because the government has outlawed costumed vigilanteism.
There is only one "superhero" -- meaning extraordinary powers, rather than physical skills and/or weapons and gimmickry: Dr. Manhattan, created by accident in a nuclear test facility. As the WikiPedia entry notes, "Moore used the story as a means to reflect contemporary anxieties and to deconstruct the superhero concept."
Other of Moore's comic book work has been made into movies, including V FOR VENDETTA and THE LEAGUE OF EXTRAORDINARY GENTLEMEN. For reasons outside the scope of my review, Moore didn't want his name associated with this film -- which is sad, in my opinion, as this is the best and most authenticate movie version of his stuff to date.
Based on the trailers, and articles and interviews I'd read, I had no doubt that the movie would deliver an amazingly satisfactory look-and-feel of the comics, as if one had fallen asleep while reading it, and shifted into a dream version. This is a lot harder to do for a comic than a book, I'd argue; for all that, say, Phillip Pullman's GOLDEN COMPASS (see my review) or Tolkein's LORD OF THE RINGS posed major challenges, we didn't really know what most of these looked like, we just had our mental images. (Which the movies of both of these captured brilliantly, IMHO.)
And it delivered. WATCHMEN, the movie, looked like the comic brought to life. It included key scenes, dialogue, events, and images from the comic, while also adding or expanding to make sense. The use of period music -- Bob Dylan singing "The Times They Are A-Changing" in the opening credits, notably -- was powerful beyond words.
The other question was, could and would a movie of WATCHMEN make sense -- could the plot, sub-plots, and other aspects of the comics be condensed into movie length? Or would it only make sense -- correct sense -- to those of us who'd read the original comics?
I believe the movie made enough, and correct, sense, even if you hadn't/haven't read the original comics. There were some omissions, and some changes, including aspects of the ending, but nothing I would request changing.
It was an incredible well-done movie.
It was also, in many places, explicitly violent and gruesome enough that I avoided watching several scenes once it became clear what was about to happen -- all taken accurately from the original comic. (Ditto several scenes with frontal male (CGI) nudity and explicit sex.) This is NOT A MOVIE FOR CHILDREN, any more than the original graphic novel was.
Arguably the hardest challenge was making a movie that meant something, when it couldn't mean what the comic meant in the mid-1980s (ignoring what the comic meant as a statement about superheros and superhero comics per se), because, of course, it's not the mid-1980's anymore, with the spectre of the Cold War hovering near.
Ditto, much of the audience is a new generation, not alive for the events or cultural references of a movie happening in an alternate-1986 (and many moviegoers not even alive when the WATCHMEN comics were first appearing).
I have no idea what someone between the ages of 15 and 30 would think of this movie, or what it would make them think.
But I feel that director Zach Snyder, the actors, and the myriads of other people involved in the making of this film kept it true to the spirit of being about something... and preserving the poetry of Alan Moore's writing, plotting and pacing, and of Dave Gibbons' artwork, as they made a movie.
So if you haven't already seen WATCHMEN, and can tolerate some moments of uber-violence (or are good at shutting your eyes quickly), go see WATCHMEN.
Even if you don't go see WATCHMEN, at least watch the opening credits, with Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are A Changin'" in the bckground, if they're still online somewhere. (As I write this, copies are being cease-and-desisted off... search for "watchmen opening credits"). Here's the link I just found them at.
Like I said, expletive-deleted brilliant.
And whether you see/saw the movie or not, check out the fake trailer for Saturday Morning Watchmen, found by a friend:
(Posted here rather than in my TryingTechnology.com blog, since this isn't quite about technology. I'll add a cross-post (or whatever the blogspeak term is) for it over there.)
While we have cable TV at our house, going to the 5+ year old non-flat TV upstairs, the dunno-how-old from-the-street junker downstairs still isn't hooked up. That one is used primarily for watching DVDs and videotapes), episodically (no pun intended) used for watching PBS.
So, several months (and also to be prepared in case of a cable outage), I ordered my Converter Box Coupons (at https://www.dtv2009.gov/), to be prepared for the exciting upcoming Farewell To Non-Digital Television Broadcast Signals slated for February 2009.
My coupons arrived in a timely fashion... and semi-promptly got buried in a pile of other papers. (Easy to happen, as anyone who's seen my home office knows.)
A month and some weeks later, I learned that THESE COUPONS EXPIRE IN 90 DAYS!
Go [expletive deleted] figure.
I found the coupons, but by the time I was able to get to a store that had converter boxes, THEY HAD EXPIRED TWO DAYS AGO.
Meanwhile, I'd applied online, on behalf of my father, who also has an uncabled TV. Weeks or months later, no sign of those coupons. I just checked online at the DTV2009 site, it has no record (and I foolishly didn't save the tracking number).
Ah well. I have applied again, on his behalf. And saved the tracking number. And emailed the gummint for a fresh set for me, explaining why I didn't use the first ones they'd sent me.
Meanwhile, this video on the upcoming conversion to DTV that a friend of mine found pretty much says it all, I think.
If, any of a few times a year during the 70s, 80s or 90s, you were in Harvard Square (in Cambridge, Mass.), and went around the back of the Harvard Coop (pronounced "coop" as in "chicken coop," although it is short for "Co-operative") to one end of one-lane alley 47 Palmer Street, where a half-flight of stairs led down to the door of the Passim Coffeeshop, you might have encounted a man who looked like a cross between Kris Kringle and a cowboy, wearing a largish hat, sporting a full curly white beard, making deep-voice duck-quack noises ("a base canard," he would note) and warning would-be buyers to avoid the upcoming performer. In election years, he might have been stumping for president, as candidate for the "Do-Nothing" party -- "If elected, I will do nothing." Or he might simply have been greeting friends in the line.
That would, of course, have been the late folksinger, songwriter, storyteller, humorist and historian Bruce "U.Utah" Phillips, "the Golden Voice of the Great Southwest, America's most-feared folksinger," in town for another of his always entertaining, thought-provoking, educational, historical shows.
Utah died Friday night, May 23, 2008, of congestive heart failure. He was 73. He had been having health problems for the past several years, which, among other things, forced him to retire from actively touring and performing. According to reports, he passed away peacefully, in his sleep, at his home for the past two decades in Nevada City, California.
This is the place where one might say "he is with us no more," but Utah left a long, large (and loud) legacy, including his recordings on albums and CDs, videos, and radio programs; the dozens or hundreds of songs he wrote; and the many -- tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands of people he touched in his performances and his life.
I had the pleasure of seeing Utah many -- dozens, I'll guess -- of times, starting in the early 1970's -- early in his career, although I didn't know that. I don't remember whether I first heard Utah here in Boston, at Passim (back when Bob and RaeAnne Donlin were alive and running the place), at the Philadelphia Folk Festival (an annual three-day event, now in its 47th year, held Schwenksville, Pennsylvania, a good hour or so west of Philadelphia), or somewhere else.
In the course of interviewing him for various folk music reviews and other articles, starting in the early 1970's, I also got to be friends with him; at least, that's how it seemed to me -- friends enough that he recognized me and remembered my name, always seemed happy to chat with me for a few minutes before or after his performance, and didn't hesitate to call me long-distance once or twice, years back, with some questions on "this Internet stuff." (As in, why would he, a folksinger, care.)
I won't be able to review any more of his performance, or interview him again -- or bring him more small goofy toys for his stage kit and personal amusement. But I do want to join the many others who are writing up their own memorials to Utah, with my own. (I've also put together a more formal obituary-style piece, suitable for a newspaper or other outlet -- email me if you're interested.)
I've divided this up into four parts:
- Part 1: Utah Phillips, Folksinger/songwriter, Racounteur And Joke-teller is stuff you might have learned from listening to Utah perform (live, on the radio, or through his recordings), or from publicly-available information, e.g. liner notes, articles and blog posts, and several of the obituaries -- some of which I didn't know before my web research for this memorial. (I can't vouch for the accuracy of it all; some, I'm trusting my sources.)
- Part 2: A Partial Stroll Through Utah's Recordings And Books -- a partial discography/etc of Utah's recordings and other materials, which you can buy (or borrow).
- Part 3: Some Personal Memories & Stuff -- A few words from fan and mostly-former folk music reviewer: Some of my own recollections, and other odd factoids I've accumulated.
- Part 4: See and Hear Utah For Yourself: Free Online Songs and Videos -- MP3s and videos of Utah performing that I've turned up, including a four-segment half-hour video interview of Utah, and some quasi-videos -- his songs, accompanied by pictures and images. It's enough to give anyone who wasn't familar with Phillips a sense of the performer and his material. And for those of us who were, enough to make us laugh again... and cry, because we won't see him again, except through these recordings. (I haven't watched these all through yet, I'm not ready.)
Part 1: Utah Phillips, the Folksinger/songwriter, Racounteur And Joke-teller
Bruce Duncan Phillips was born in Cleveland, Ohio in 1935, to a pair of labor organizers. He was an Army private in Korea; as he has told it (and according to the family-provided obituary, when he returned to the United States, he rode the rails -- freight trains. He wound up in Salt Lake City, Utah, at the Joe Hill House, which was a homeless shelter run by Christian anarchist Ammon Hennacy, who Phillips has talked about in many of his monologues, like in this video.
It was in Utah that he met Rosalie Sorrels, who would be one of the first to record his songs, and who toured and performed extensively with Phillips for many years. One of his jobs during the 1960s was as an archivist for the State of Utah, which, according to the official obituary from his family, "taught Phillips the discipline of historical research; beneath the simplest and most folksy of his songs was a rigorous attention to detail and a strong and carefully-crafted narrative structure."
In 1968, Phillips lost this job after a failed run at U.S. Senate, and had to leave Salt Lake City. He ended up in Saratoga, New York at the Caffè Lena, which is where his career as a folksinger began.
Like many folksinger/songwriters, Utah seems to have wandered or fallen into his career by a mix of accident and fate, rather than any planning.
Here's how Phillips ended up in show business in his own words -- an excerpt from one of, perhaps the last, letter from him to the world at large:
When I hit a blacklist in Utah in 1969, I realized I had to leave Utah if I was going to make a living at all. I didn’t know anything abut this enormous folk music family spread out all over North America. All I had was an old VW bus, my guitar, $75, and a head full of songs, old- and new-made.
Fortunately, at the behest of my old friend Rosalie Sorrels, I landed at Caffe Lena in Saratoga Springs, New York. That seemed to be ground zero for folk music at the time. Lena Spencer, as she did with so many, took me in and taught me the ropes. It took me a solid two years to realize I was no longer an unemployed organizer, but a traveling folk singer and storyteller—which, in Utah at the time, would probably have been regarded as a criminal activity.
Phillips became a regular performer at Harvard Square's Club Passim (one of the first -- and the last -- of the places I saw him), and at other Massachusetts venues, as well as at coffeehouses, folk festivals and other events across outside the United States, Canada and Europe starting in the early 1970's. He continued this until a few years ago, when health problems kept him from touring. I had the good fortune to see him at Passim in March 2007, at what was probably one of his last East Coast performances. (Folksinger and journalist Scott Alarik was there, and conducted a live, on-stage interview, FYI.)
Part 2: A Partial Stroll Through Utah's Recordings And Books
There's a fair amount of Utah's work still available for sale. Also try (or from your local library and/or their inter-library loan service, not to mention your folkie friends' collections.
Phillips' his first album was Good Though!, for Philo Records, distributed through Rounder Records. contained a mix of traditional songs as well as some that Utah wrote, like "Daddy, What's A Train?" ... and the tall tale that, for better or worse, became one of his most well-known bits, "Moose Turd Pie" (Here's the MP3 from his site.)
His second album, "El Capitan," was mostly more songs of trains and the West, like "The Goodnight Loving Trail," but also includes "The Green Rolling Hills of West Virginia," recorded by Emmy Lou Harris and others, and "Enola Gay," a song about the B-29 Superfortress plane that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima during World War II.
Phillips' subsequent albums are increasingly historical, humorous, and political, and auto-biographical, on topics including Wobblies (the Industrial Workers of the World), anarchism, politics, plus more of his poems, jokes and ruminations-at-large. Some he did on his own, some accompanied by or otherwise featuring Rosalie Sorrels, Kate Wolfe, and Ani DiFranco, and one of a concert with Ramblin' Jack Elliott, and Spider John Koerner. There are also a few albums listed here of Utah's songs, performed by other people.
For several years, Utah also did a weekly radio show, Loafer's Glory -- 100 episodes, which the site describes as "collages of rants, poetry, tales, and reminiscences mixed in with little known music and talk from over 1,000 tapes of everything under the sun. A few shows are jungle stews cooked up for his own satisfaction, but most are thematic: from tramping and labor (historic and contemporary) to baseball and old friends ... and always music. Each show is one hour long."
CDs of Loafer's Glory shows have been available; hopefully, Phillips' family or others will continue to offer them.
If you only buy one Utah Phillips thing, and can spring for $40, get Starlight on the Rails: A Songbook -- "The definitive, newly released 4-CD set of 61 original songs (each accompanied by a descriptive story) sung mostly by Utah, with certain songs by special guests Rosalie Sorrels, Kate Wolf, and more." This includes not only the songs, but spoken introductions with a lot of background and other information. (You can hear a surprising amount of each selection online.)
And if you want to read more about Utah's songs, and see the words and some of the music, get Starlight on the Rails and other songs: by U. Utah Phillips -- Music and Lyrics.
46 of Utah's songs and stories are available as MP3 downloads from Amazon.com for $0.99 each (and you can listen to the beginnings of each free). Some are short -- but "How I Became A Buddhist" is ten minutes,
Part 3: Some Personal Memories & Stuff
Utah Phillips was best known -- if that phrase can be used meaningfully for any folksinger outside of a small handful like Joan Baez, Judy Collins, Woodie Guthrie, Odetta, and Pete Seeger -- for many things, ranging from his love of railroads and trains and the West, to hobos, the IWW ("Wobblies"), and his sense of humor, ranging from puns and zingers to long tall tales... and he knew how to use them. He could rattle off long stories and other recitations by the handful... and he had the precise timing of a Borscht Belt comedian, as demonstrated by his standard opening and closing joke/monologue/songs, his "capper" story "Moose Turd Pie," and stories like the Egg-Sitting Horse.
I remember the Philadelphia Folk Festival, listening to Utah (I think he was MC'ing) from the main stage, so far away it was a blur, but clearly audible. lambasting the audience with zingers. The one from then I still remember (but am retelling badly): "A man tells the truck driver to take a load of penguins to the zoo. The next day, he asks the driver how it went, and the driver said, 'Great, and we had such a good time that today we're going to the museum.'"
During the years the Chris Lydon was hosting The Connnection radio show on WBUR-FM, Utah was one of the few* I heard who was unflummoxed by Lydon's long, grammatically wandering questions. Instead of making any effort to address what he'd been asked or Lydon had otherwise said, Utah simply seized upon some nugget of thought from Lydon's ramble, and launched into one of his own bits.
(* Another was author Samuel R. Delany. And then there was Harlan Ellison, in Boston for a reading... who got up and walked out halfway through the life show, when Lydon referred to Harlan as a science fiction writer, despite Harlan having made clear to the producer ahead of time that was not an option.)
Some things you probably didn't know about Utah that you won't find out from the web (as far as I can tell):
- He was guest of honor at a science fiction convention. (I haven't been able to verify which yet.)
- He was an amateur magician, enough to know many of the terms and gimmicks.
Part 4: See and Hear Utah For Yourself: Free Online Songs and Videos
First, here's eight short video segments of Utah performing at the 2007 Strawberry Music Festival, courtesy of whoever took them and posted them to YouTube:
- "Railroading On The Great Divide," Part 1 of 3
Utah's standard opening was the song "Railroading On The Great Divide," interspersed with a joke, story and badinage-filled monologue, including some local and topical humor and political barbs.
- "Railroading On The Great Divide," Part 2 of 3
- "Railroading On The Great Divide," Part 3 of 3
- "The Egg Sitting Horse"
Utah claims is the funniest joke around.
- "I'm Walking Through Your Town In The Cold"
- "Fry Pan Jack (Get The Bum Off The Plush)"
- "Christian Anarchist Ammon Hennessey"
- "Hallelujah, I'm A Bum/So Long, It's Been Good To Know You"
Utah's usual closer song, again interspersed with jokes galore.
Here's some other live videos of Utah performing:
- Judi Bari tribute & "The World Turned Upside Down""
A tribute to environmental, labor and social justice leader Judi Bari, followed by Leon Rosselson's song about the Diggers, "The World Turned Upside Down" (you may know this from Billy Bragg singing it)
- Utah Phillips & the Strum Bums, 1 of 2
Utah Phillips leads Strum Bums in "Yessir That's My Baby" and "Remember Me," at the Nevada Theatre in Nevada City, California
- Utah Phillips & the Strum Bums, 2 of 2
"Utah Phillips performing "Little Brown Gal," with Cool Hand Uke's Strum Bums in Nevada City, California, to help get the group to the 2007 New York Ukulele Festival." (Hard to describe, but worth it for the jokes and the walking sushi! - DPD)
-
From Utah's March 7, 2007 performance at Passim
- "Bread and Roses
- Utah talking about voting with your body ballot
- Utah Phillips, Mark Ross and Butte Montana
Interview by Amy Goodman interviews for Democracy Now! in 2004:
(Thirty-six minutes of video interview!)
- Part 1: "Utah's Approach To Music"
Utah talks about his approach to music and learning from his audiences.
- Part 2: "On War and Non-Violence"
Utah discusses his own military service and becoming a pacifist.
- Part 3: "His Name, the IWW, and War Resistance"
Utah explains how he got the name "U. Utah", the history of war resistance, and the Wobblies.
- Part 4: "The Role of the Media"
Utah talks about television, storytelling, capitalism, and alternative media.
- Part 5:"Making a Living, Not a Killing"
Utah tells how he started out in New York, fired his agent, and decided not to play music for profit.
And Here's some "photo/graphic videos (music videos?) -- songs done by Utah, with added visuals -- and some snippets of Utah singing:
- Podcasts by and about Utah Phillips
- "There Is Power In The Union"
- "Direct Action"
- Excerpt from "Hallelujah, I'm A Bum"
- Utah Phillips Blog
- WikiPedia entry on Utah Phillips
- Obit in the New York Times, by music critic Jon Pareles
- Search Google for obituaries on Utah
Farewell, Utah. I'll miss you. All your fans will. Rest in peace.
- Daniel Dern, June 2008
Nothing makes it so clear that good organization is pro-active, not retro-active, as a large pile of comic books.
Which I have.
I buy about ten to twelve dollars' worth a week -- an average of four comics a week, at today's prices. (Some weeks I do go over -- DC's been doing too much interesting stuff this past year.)
That translates slightly over one "Short Box" a year. (A Short Box is a standard white-cardboard box for storing comics upright, which is about sixteen inches deep, and holds about 150-170 comic books.)
One year's worth isn't a lot, but after a few years, they can start to pile up.
I don't feel the need to keep all of these comics -- I'm a reader (and re-reader), not a collector. I do want to save some -- maybe 25%? -- for re-re-reading (or replace them with the less space-consuming trade book collection, if it weren't for the cost), but the rest, I'm prepared to part with.
Ideally, I want to de-own most of these comics by selling them. I don't expect to get a lot of money for them -- less than what I paid, to be sure. But that's OK; I've already gotten my money's worth -- by reading them. I expect they'll go to people who want to read them, and either can't get them in collected form, or prefer them as comics.
I'll be more interested in minimizing the number of transactions. (Also, if I'm doing any of this by mail, selling in batches keeps the overall shipping cost down, especially since the U.S. Post Office now offers all-that-fits-inside flat-rate-shipping boxes.)
That means selling them in organized groups, not individual back issues, e.g. Superman xxx through yyy, or all eight issues of the just-finished METAL MEN mini-series.
And since I've simply been letting them pile up, rather than filing them in an organized fashion, that means it's comic sorting time again.
I could simply start filling USPS flat-rate boxes, which hold about 70 to 80 comics, and hawk them as random lots, like , like "75 DC superhero comics from the past four years." It would save me a lot of time, but I wouldn't get a great price. Or feel I'd done the right thing. Or had fun.
Finding Time And Space
I don't know how other comic owners do it, but for me, it's a multi-step, multi-pass, multi-session process -- even an hour is enough to get a fair amount done. It's easier when I've got a fair amount of flat space available, like a sofa, bed, or table, to sort onto.
First, find as many of the comics to be sorted as you can, from the piles laying around. Some will still be hiding.
Second, start sorting, into piles based on how much flat space is easily available. E.g. I start with a pile for each title; as empty flat space runs short, I either start a "sort these titles later" pile or box, or have some combination pile, like "mini-series" or "other characters/titles, e.g. Hawkman, Green Arrow."
Then, for each title, sort by age. (Generally, that means volume/issue number.) That's pretty easy, most of the comics have a number on the cover.
Repeat until done. Depending on how many more piles you find, you may do this again, and then have to merge the title piles.
This is a lot more work than putting them in a box, in accumulating sorted order as I go. Pity I didn't think this through at any point in the past.
Then, generate (write) a list of what's there, e.g. Justice League 1-10, 12-15, 18-25... It's possible that a portable bar code scanner, and matching software, would handle much of this, but I don't have one. Hopefully, I'll have mostly full runs, but it's important to determine if there's any gaps in the sequences.
Of course, the sorting also takes longer because some of these you can't just sort, you have to page through to decide whether it's a keeper or not. (Well, maybe you could. I can't. If nothing else, I often set out a "read us later today" pile.)
And some comics bear re-reading before being let go.
Then, decide what to keep, what to sell, and what to still brood about.
Then, put the sorted-by-title-and-sequence piles (back) into boxes. Fortunately, since I'm not planning to keep them, I don't have to worry about philosophical/taxonomical storage issues, like "Do I file DC, Marvel, et cetera comics together, e.g. Action, Adventure, Amazing Spider-Man, Avengers, or by publisher, separating DC from Marvel," not to mention, do I file by title (Action, Adventure, Batman, Detective) or by character (Superman titles, Batman titles, etc.)
Then, start selling.
And start putting all new issues into a box -- sorting as they go in.
Over the past several years, between my one morning a week as a volunteer literacy tutor (I work with third graders), my grandparental , and other stuff, I've gotten to read (or have read to me) a fair number and range of books for three-to-ten year olds, ranging from way old (classic or just plain old) to fairly recent.
And I've come to conclusion that, aside from other issues outside this post's topic, a lot of them -- particularly many of the new ones -- haven't done their job well enough in being accessible to their audience... often, where a sentence or two, even a few words, would have made a big difference.
(For what it's worth, I feel that way about some of the non-kid books I read, too. For example, Michael Chabon's excellent THE YIDDISH POLICEMEN'S UNION.)
For example, this week, one of my tutees brought (they usually decide what book they want to read) a book about John Henry, who competed against a (steam-powered) machine. The book was short, with a picture on each, and written around 2002, with a note in the front about "tall tales," and saying when and where the incident the story probably sprang from was thought to be.
All well and good.
But.
Within the first page or two, while John Henry is still a baby, the phrase "steel-driving man" is used. With no explanation of "steel-driving," nor how that relates to the hammer that the young John Henry is already playing with.
A few pages in, John Henry (and his wife) are relocating to West Virginia, where they encounter a railroad being built, including a major project through a tunnel. JH gets a job here -- but still with no mention of specifically what he's doing, nor how his hammer and "steel-driving" are involved. And then along comes a "steam drill." No explanation of what it is, nor how it relates to "steel-driving." So when John Henry and the machine compete, it's hardly obvious what that means.
Particularly since I've heard folk songs about John Henry (done by Pete Seeger, and, no doubt, others) I could make an educated guess what "steel-driving," combined with there being a heavy hammer, might mean, and also what a "steam drill" might be doing that was similar.
But I don't see how an author would expect the average young reader to have the foggiest notion of what was going on.
This could have been handled in a few phrases or sentences.
The omission not only robs the story of most of its meaning.
This, I fear, makes for a less satisfactory reading experience -- being able to read the words isn't the same as understanding what's going on and having that sense. Instead, some readers, I'm sure, will feel frustrated... and therefore unnecessarily discouraged from continuing to work on becoming better readers, or from reading for enjoyment.
Feh.
(Note, a quick Google, of course, sheds some light on these questions. Which of the explanations is more "accurate" I couldn't begin to guess... but the hits provide some basic sense of what's going on:
- What is a Steel Drivin' Man?, By Dan Shaver -- "A steel driver worked with a partner. The partner held in place a steel shaft with a cutting head that the "driver," often working from awkward angles, forced into the native stone with repeated strikes of his hammer."
- Wikipedia -- "In modern depictions John Henry is often portrayed as hammering down rail spikes, but older versions depict him driving blasting holes into rock, part of the process of excavating railroad tunnels and cuttings."
The strike by television and movie writers has reduced the amount of new episodes of many TV shows being shown, like HEROES, ditto many of the late-night shows (although many reality shows have elected to proceed without scripting). And it sounds like the strike, even if resolved today, will delay many new episodes, even new series. (New-to-US episodes of the BBC's LIFE ON MARS are still showing up, and HBO's THE WIRE re-starts in early January 2008.)
When not reading or doing other non-work stuff, we enjoy watching TV shows (we get our news elsewhere), but we're prepared -- thanks to the pile of videotaped stuff that's piled up over the past five or ten years, which we have nicknamed "The Backlog Channel."
The pile -- which I've pruned a few times, including, aggressively, this past weekend -- are the sundry shows I've taped because we couldn't watch them as they happened, because we were out, busy, watching something else on another channel, or because we missed previous episodes and are trying to watch them in order.
The pile I just triaged had everything from several years' worth of the National Westminster Dog Show (we did see the winners), half a dozen episodes of LIFE (we're catching up), some of the past season or three of Dr. Who (which we may not bother with), sundry PBS documentaries, stuff we've watched that I hung on to, and even a few show episodes I thought we'd seen, like a THREE MOONS, plus a handful of movies. (And I've got several boxes of videotape to sell...)
Now I've got everything sorted by show and date, of the main pile. (There's still some in the closet, with really older tapes, like, I think, PBS's broadcast of The Rock Follies... several dozen episodes of THE AVENGERS, taped in like 1990, when they were first rebroadcast.)
The increasing availability of some shows for free "on demand" viewing over cable, or on computer, has simplified some of the problem. We watched a number of episodes of AMC's (originally intended for HBO, I gather) MAD MEN on cable, and have to go back and catch up with CBC's charming comedy LITTLE MOSQUE ON THE PRAIRIE via the net.
And if, by some chance, we catch up with this, there's always DVD collections via the library or NetFlix, if we feel we have the time, energy and focus... or read more books.
