The link to my picture no longer works....

... so I deleted the post that contained it. The school took it down and replaced it with someone much more handsome.

Carmen came back from her first musical gig...

... amused and worn out. She played at a young Hispanic's 'Quincienera'. Essentially it is a coming out party for a 15 year old woman. It was very big among the Cubans in Miami and seems to be just as big among the Mexicans in the land of Wilkes. Carmen had been asked to play the piano at the church for the quincienera mass for the family and friends of the young lady. Apparently it was very nice, though Carmen had to play the music, pick out the gospel readings, and in fact, read the gospel in Spanish (is seems that the special words have been said over her that makes this legit in the Church, even though she is not a priest, and not a male).

Now here is an interesting observation about the economic impact of Hispanics on our community. When Carmen arrivedearly at the church, the only ones already there were the quincienera 'advisor', an Anglo, and the lady doing all the flowers, also an Anglo. The latter told Carmen that she has done about 15 or so of these ceremonies in the last year, and wishes there were more!

I am sure the advisor felt the same way. How much money is that? Don't know, but I am sure it mounts up, and is money spent here in the county. A more interesting question is: how much longer before Anglo girls start wanting the same kind of coming-out ceremony?

I am sure that Hallmark is working on the cards right now.

Maire brought young Maeréad into my office yesterday...

... Maire sat and laughed at us while we had a good time watching the 30 sec versions of movie hits - performed by bunnies. At first I showed Maeréad the Pirate Bunnies, but she didn't like them - they didn't move. When she saw the bunnies performing in great movies like ‘Star Wars' and ‘Titanic' she wanted to set and watch all of them. Or at least all that had female bunnies on the icons. She especially was interested in all the girl bunnies who had on pretty hats jewelryalry. Are all little girls like that?

She wasn't interested in the Viking Kitties either, but Maire insisted they were her favorites (well, she is an expert on Vikings!).

It's nice to have a wife who works in a library....

.... Carmen snagged the recorded book version of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince and brought it home for me before anyone else could check it out. While I still have lots of things I am going to read/listen too, this one will go to the head of the line. Just as soon as I finish part III of ‘The History of Ancient Rome' by Garrett Fagan. Fagan has a wonderful Dublin accent almost exactly like my friend Maeréad's father. It's part of the Teaching Company's offering. Once I'm done with Rome's Third Century Crisis, it's on to Hogwarts!

Carmen has made me swear on my copy of Gibbon not to give away any of the plot.

She did it, she really went and did it ....

... and in front of Mearéad too! Just as we were beginning to have fun at the Mellow Mushroom, Maire organized an intervention to stop my addiction to fountain pens! I kept telling them that it wasn't an addiction, that just because I had one fountain pen on me and two in the pocket of my book bag was no reason to suspect me of being an addict - but they wouldn't listen. They were relentless. Told me how much damage this was doing to my family (I pointed out to them that my family consisted of two cats and the little lummox, none of whom had complained to me). But they kept insisting. I think it was when they discovered that I had actually given a fountain pen to young Clovis who is now also addicted that I began to lose control of the situation.

They save the last part for the Law Enforcement Official we hang out with. It was ugly. The LEO concluded the proceedings by saying, in that tone of voice I'm sure she reserves for prisoners who are giving her trouble - "We love you Oscar and want you to get better. It's time to hand over the pens - NOW!"

I fought them off. Which is not easy to do when you are laughing so hard the beer is sloshing out of your glass.

But that's ok. Mearéad, who paid no attention to any of this, still likes me.

And there is a lovely new Parker Sonnet on sale at Levenger's and the new Farhney's catalog just came out...

Some unexpected news from my homeland....

... that is, Loudon county Virginia, that is unhappy. The old White's ferry, that I can remember using a number of times, is being shut down by the Coast Guard. Or at least they are trying to shut it down. Appartently the people who have owned and run it since 1946 are refusing to stop operations.

Why we write... or why I write.... or something

Found this item in BestLife magazine, a magazine that tells men how to be .... men. Or something like that. I just can't afford the wardrobe they recommend. It also helps if you are movie star handsome and about 35 years old. But it did have this wonderful news which helps explain why I write for 30 minutes every morning and why I keep three blogs going. Not to mention the other million plus bloggers out there. [the comments are mine]

BARD BRAIN [men's magazines always go for the clever pun]
Putting pen to paper is good for the gray matter. A study at the Rochester Psychiatric Center [men are also into REAL FACTS as demonstrated by the impressive sounding study] found that writing can decrease stress levels [bold letters in original - real men like to be shown what's important so they can skip reading all those dull details] and improve memory. All 86 participants showed fewer signs of stress and performed better on memory tests after an hour-long writing period that they did before it [now what was my point? Can't remember.] regardless of the topic they wrote about.

I am sure that the editors intended to put in a line about how this would get more girls to sleep with you, but the illiterate typesetters must have left it out.

A Walk through North Wilkesboro...

... Friday morning bright and early ... well, for me anyway... I took my car over to David's Car Care just across the bridge over the Yadkin River in North Wilkesboro - the other half of the Twin Hamlets. From David's, which is down along the river in what I quaintly imagine is the flood zone, I crossed the street and went in Hadley's Restaurant. There was the usual hometown crowd for a week day morning - and real waitresses who see this as their long term job rather than middle class students just playing around for a year or two on the way to something better. Much better. Therefore the service is prompt, friendly, and efficient. The customers a bit older than me, retired, carrying more weight, faces and bodies molded to the demands of constant work, most of it outdoors. Some day workers without a day's work. A few like me taking time off from work. I read a New York Times Review of Books, they read local newspapers or most often, since they are all locals, chat with each other, greet anyone who comes in, and tease the waitresses. It's comfy and good.

I dawdle over my coffee and read a story about the war in Lebanon. Look out the window and see my dark green Suburu zipping around the corner of David's garage. Should it be going that fast? It's peaceful here. An ocean away from Lebanon.

Pay - I'm always careful to leave a good tip down here in Wilkes - my job is not tied to the local economy and unlike every other job in America I have guaranteed lifetime employment.

Walk around to the back and head up away from the river into North Wilkesboro. Pass the Creamery, and walk up through what is labelled "Southern Candle, Inc." I didn't know the Twin Hamlets had a candle factory. It seems to be in business. I can smell the sickly sweet odor of candle wax. Good - one more business continues. There are a couple of very serious white guys with clip boards standing in the parking lot, each with freshly pressed safari shorts. They are looking at the candle factory with gimlet eyes. Perhaps business is not as good as I thought.

I press past their enormous SUVs, cross over the railroad tracks no longer in use and take a look at the old railroad depot. For some years now we have been hearing that a local businessman is going to pour moeny into it, to rescue it from decay and turn it into a restaurant and music stage. So far it continues to set, and rot.

And that was the start of my day in Wilkes.

Yes, I said NO MORE FOUNTAIN PENS ...

.... so today I read a story in Pen World International about the all new Mega Ink-Ball by Monteverde. Costs a mere $195 and, the author claims, "is a delight to behold, a pleasure to hold and a joy to use." Best of all, it is a roller ball pen that fills with bottled ink just like a fountain pen. But, technically, it is NOT a fountain pen.

Soooooo....

And another thing about church today....

... our minister told the story in his sermon today about the little boy traveling in a car with his parents. They come upon a line of traffic at a low overpass across the highway. A heavy truck has wedged itself into the overpass and is now stuck so fast that not even the best efforts of tow trucks and cops can get it unstuck. Finally, after trying over and over, the little boy convinces one of the men to listen to him. "Let the air out of the tires" he says. They try it, it works.

Why that struck me is because I heard a version of that exact same story back in the fourth grade from Ms Laycock* at the Hamilton Elementary school in Northern Virginia. I think that much of my moral sense must come from the stories that lady read us.


* Actually, it was Mrs, but like good little Virginians we pronounced it Miz.

Today when I went to church...

... there was another Biblical reading that made me think. This time it was James 1:17-27. Here's what struck my ear:

You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God's righteousness.

And:

If any think they are religious, and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless. Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world.

I am often struck by how quiet and modest Jesus and the apostles expected Christians to be. I learned that growing up in the Episcopal version of Christianity, but fashions change I suppose.

The Spanish Translator Machine has struck again...

Carmen came into my study this morning laughing about the latest bulletin from her Catholic church. The English version has: 'Welcome Fr. John Hoover, a priest from our Diocese...'

Using the Spanish Translator program, the Spanish version comes out: 'La Aspiradora bienvenida del Padre John...'

Or, to translate the translation, 'The Vacuum Cleaner welcomes Father John...'

Verna's Bean will be duly awarded.

Me and fountain pens...

.... I love fountain pens. I am not a collector. Every pen I own I expect to be a first rate writing instrument, otherwise it is as useless as an expensive car that won’t start in a Minnesota winter. It’s nothing but an overpriced ornament. I am too often disappointed in my pens.

My new Pelikan Epoch is an attractive pen, for example, but it has very poor ink flow. I don’t know quite what to do with it. I am not used to using cartridges, so perhaps that is the problem. But it certainly warns me off from the Mont Blanc Starwalker. I am not paying more than $300 for a cartridge only fountain pen.

I should stick to the pens I have that I enjoy writing with. It’s not that many. My Levenger Samba pen started out as a drag. Over time, however, the ink flow has improved to become one of my favorite writers. It puts out plenty of ink - now. I like the feel of the titanium nib too. Extremely flexible. Yet my other Levenger titanium pen is a disaster. It skips and stutters so badly that despite the flexible feel of the nib it is positively unpleasant to use.

The pens I will stick with: my two Levenger Seas pens (with medium and fine points), the Samba, and my Parker Sonnet. The Sonnet is probably the best writing pen of them all, though I am not wild about the nib. Oh yes. My new broad nibbed Italian pen. It lays out a thick trail of ink that is wonderful for signing documents and for writing lectures. Even my fading cataract ridden eyes can see what I write.

The moral of this post? NO MORE MONEY FOR FOUNTAIN PENS!!


Update: After writing this post late last night I got up this morning and found an e-mail message about the Fountain Pen Hospital's new super-duper sale! Somehow I managed to resist. Instead I carefully cleaned my cranky Pelikan Epoch pen and blew water through it to clear the nib, then added a brand new Pelikan ink cartridge -- and sure enough, now it doesn't write at all.

Several years ago when I went to church ...

... I came home and left this note to myself on the computer. As I was cleaning out my old WordPerfect files I found it. Here it is.


Notes to self:

A very interesting reading in church today: Acts 17:22-31.

Paul is in Athens and speaks of the Athenian altar "To an unknown god." He is clearly trying to find common ground with the pagans of old Athens and preaches a type of "universal brotherhood" message:

From one ancestor He made all nations to inhabit the whole earth, and he allotted the times of their existence and the places where they would live, so that they would search for God, and perhaps grope for him and find him - though He indeed is not far from each one of us.

Is this saying that each people, each culture, does God's work as best they can, in their own way? Then:

While God has overlooked the times of human ignorance, now He commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which He will have the world judged in righteousness by a man whom He has appointed and of this He has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.

No talk of Jesus the God, but only an "appointed man!"

What does this mean? If anything?

Oddly enough I never got around to answering that. Any suggestions?

OK Ana! Spanish wines!

.... Ana, a true blue Spaniard, despite living in London and writing excellent English, was right to demand that I give equal time to Spanish wines. So last night I cracked open my first bottle of Montecillo Crianza 2001 wine - a Rioja wine. When I went to the wine store last week I bought several bottles of it. And indeed, it was excellent. A whole lot better then its price of US $8 would have led one to believe (if I'd not read the rave reviews of it from the staff). That's not much more than UK £ 5! Which certainly puts the local Windy Gap wine at $16 (about £ 10) to shame.

Even Carmen (aka MFH) drank some of it tonight with dinner. Actually, she is the one who wanted to buy in the first place. Clearly Iberian prejudices are coming to the fore. Thank God.

Tomorrow - La venta de Don Quixote 400 Aniversario. An estate grown Tempranillo from Valdepeñas.

And next trip - Argentina and Chile! Arriba!