I Guess I'm Just Not Cut Out for Management

I get a little worked up sometimes. I'll be the first to admit it.

Most things I've learned to just let roll off my back, but some things get caught right under my shoulder blades- that spot that's impossible to scratch.

We had to read a little missive called "Who Moved My Cheese?" for one of the management courses I'm taking and the assignment was given to us like this would be a good book to read if you were a manager. Yea verily, the first quarter of the book is accolades from CEO's all over the world singing the praises of this little gem.

Except it's awful.

Not just the message and supposed lesson itself; I mean it's written like a 3rd grader crayoned down instructions on not eating paste for a bunch of kindergarteners. Wait- that would've been more instructional and interesting.

Anyhoo, the assignment after reading the book was to answer the following questions about it. I'll be getting my graded paper back tonight. My guess is that there will be no grade on it at all, just a little note saying I should expect Homeland Security's "Socialist Wagon" to come pick me up any minute.

1. “Analyze why organizations around the world would buy millions of these books for their employees”- I honestly didn’t like the book and agree with every bad review on Amazon (I purchased the Kindle version). There are as many bad reviews as good reviews but I tried to read it with an open mind. The story is not a bad thing, but the pre-story chapter and the after-story chapter were actually offensive to me- very poorly written and just blatantly pounded the message home in every angle possible, like the reader would never figure it out for themselves even though the book is touted as a ‘something to ponder and learn from’ fable.
The pre-story chapter was a pre-emptive statement that said, “If you don’t get anything out of this story- you need it the most”. The story itself is only 20 pages out of the 94 pages of the book, and while it’s mostly benign, I found the following passage truly awful-

“Why should we change?” Hem asked. “We’re Littlepeople. We’re special. This sort of thing should not happen to us. Or if it does, we should at least get some benefits”.
“Why should we get benefits?” Haw asked.
“Because we’re entitled,” Hem claimed.
“Entitled to what?” Haw wanted to know.
“We’re entitled to our Cheese”.
“Why?” Haw asked.
“Because, we didn’t cause this problem, “Hem said, “Somebody else did and we should get something out of it”.
Haw suggested, “Maybe we should simply stop analyzing the situation so much and go find some New Cheese”?
“Oh no”, Hem argued. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this”.

The words ‘entitled’ and ‘benefits’ are there for a reason. That’s not accidental.

In the given context- that of Enron and other corporations that went bankrupt- the workers ARE ‘entitled’ to their benefits. No other business relationship would allow such a breach of contract other than the employer/employee one. Will their suppliers get paid? Sure- they’ll sue to lay claim to the owners’ assets. Will the taxes still be collected? Yes, of course they will or the owners will (or should) be jailed.

Example- in 2008/2009 the clinic I manage was extremely strapped for cash due to the miscalculations of the owners regarding the stock market. There were multiple times I held back my own paycheck till the following weekend (our busiest times) to be sure everyone else’s paychecks cleared the bank. I had made a compact with the owners that I could and would run their clinic without asking them for additional out-of-pocket funds, and as a clinic we had made a compact with the employees to pay them for their work on a certain day of the month. Both of these promises needed to be kept. It was my job to make it work- not to ask the owners for more money, or the employees to go without pay.

Honestly, I believe the reason so many corporations buy millions of these is to ‘gently ‘ inform their employees, “Too bad, so sad- don’t ‘overanalyze’ this- just make other arrangements for your health care, retirement, or even your employment- nothing personal…change is exciting!”. It’s a pass for them to behave badly without taking responsibility for actions they’re causing in direct opposition to their compact with their employees.

That’s probably not what I’m supposed to get out of this, right?

2. “How does this reflect on workers losing their pension funds?” It very nicely blames the victims. Even IF they could’ve seen ‘the writing on the wall’ regarding the companies’ financial health, they had a compact with their employers to give X number of hours for X amount of pay and benefits. The ones who needed to change were the employers- every course I’ve been taking regarding management tells us to take care of the employees- without them the company cannot operate. Employees who are empowered to do their jobs and who feel valued will care for the business. To have your entire workforce always looking for other opportunities in case this one turns out to be lying and/or temporary does not make for a secure and productive workforce. Why should they behave with ethics and morals when those in charge tell them flat-out, “Don’t put all your eggs in our basket”?

The main problem is the entire premise of the book is based on the Littlepeople just stumbling upon the cheese. They claim it, use it and eat it without actually working for it. This has zero to do with anyone losing their pension funds. It is in effect saying, “You all just show up to work and we pay you for that- what you’ve done for the company means exactly nothing- there is no value to your labor.”

3. “What would I do if I were not afraid?” I guess I’m doing it. In the big picture, I’m bettering myself and positioning myself in case of a change- yes: In case my husband dies of his health problems and I need to support our son on my own. That’s an unavoidable change and I would surely be angry about it and never emotionally recover, but on the outside I would roll with it like I have many lesser health-related changes. Change caused by mismanagement accidental or on purpose should NOT be tolerated, no matter how Little the People.

So, I read the book on the way home from Missouri last night in the car and am typing this with 3.5 hours of sleep in me. It may come across as pointier than normal, but the feeling and intent are 100% sincere.


On the upside- she's loved all my PowerPoint presentations. I am a PowerPoint Ninja.

A Socialist PowerPoint Ninja.

Sheri is Temporarily Out- Please Enjoy This Awesome Book While She's Gone

The next four weeks are gonna be brutal, ya'll.

We are headed to San Antonio on Wednesday and will be home Monday- I'll be collecting 25ish hours of Veterinary Management Continuing Education while the boys lounge around the pool, stroll the Riverwalk and Remember the Alamo.

The weekend after we'll spend the night in Denton after co-op so the Boy can run with his herd and mommy and daddy listen to some live music whilst raising a glass or two.

Then it's off to Missouri from Thursday till Monday for our family reunion. Oh, not blood family- the ones we REALLY love and get along with...ya'll know who you are.

Finally, to Houston for some regularly scheduled appointments- Boy is staying home for that one so it'll be just Gomez and me alone from Sunday till Tuesday. That will be sweet.

*Re-reading that, our next four weeks will not be brutally brutal- like when awful shit keeps jumping out at you and you just can't escape it and stabbing yourself with a rusty spork seems like sweet realease- we'll be seeing people we love and going places we want to but having it all back to back...DAMN*

In between of course are the regular day to days of work, tending the critters and trying to pay enough attention to everyone I love and failing miserably.

School is manageable so far...but I'm sure that'll catch up with me soon enough. I did have the foresight to work as far ahead in assisgnments as I could this past weekend, since weekends are when I have time to do school and weekends are when I'll be gone but that still leaves me with the in-person class on Tuesdays and the accounting class that posts assignments week to week and three exams all during that time frame.

What I'm trying to say is since deciding to go back to school, my dedication to The Blog has become sketchy at best, abysmal at worst.

So know that I love ya'll, and it's totally not you...it's me.

In the meanwhile, here's a touching, funny, irreverent book by a thoughtful, funny and irreverent young woman named Annah.

If you were a semi-wild young thing (as I was myself a million years ago), if you believe in true love and other sappy shit, and if you like to laugh at sometimes horrible things, this is what you're looking for.

But be warned- once you start it, you will have to finish it in one sitting- no getting up from the table till you're done with "Heartbreak for Dinner".

http://www.amazon.com/Heartbreak-Dinner-Kind-Story-ebook/dp/B00EPWDYRA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1379989006&sr=8-1&keywords=annah+rondon

Book Review "Damn You, Facebook"

So I was getting us all packed and whatnot for our week o' surgery that didn't happen but turned instead into a week o' cardiac shit down in Houston and I got an email from my blogger friend Annah. She said she'd written a little book and would I read it and if I liked it would I pass on the info to all my friends, family and any random strangers I met who were clutching a Kindle.

I told her I'd LOVE to read her book- she's smart and funny and gorgeous and fun and I read her blog whenever I need a smile.

So, like, every day.

I figured I'd read her book while I was in the waiting room for the 5+ hours Ward's surgery was supposed to be. Turned out I was in the waiting room zero minutes and the cafeteria about 20 minutes before they aborted that little mission and the rest of that day was pretty much a blur.

As was Wednesday.

And Thursday.

Thursday night I was catching up on interweb stuff and I said loudly enough to startle the boys "SHIT!!! I have a book to read!!!" and I smiled (even before opening it) because it's Annah's book and it was bound to make me smile.

And so it did.

Annah's a little wild, and a little irreverent, and she brings home any stray dog who crosses her path. So basically...she's me 35 years ago. If I had lived in Miami. And been Cuban. And gorgeous. Shut up.

Point is, if you want a fun little read that has illustrations...including NEKKID illustrations- this is it.

Seriously. Have I ever lied to you?

http://www.amazon.com/Damn-You-Facebook-ebook/dp/B00B6DONRG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1359390513&sr=8-1&keywords=damn+you%2C+facebook

Book Review "Embers at Galdrilene"

I don't generally read much fiction, and I very rarely read fantasy.

Embers at Galdrilene is both, and it's fabulous.

I confess I read it mainly because I know the author, but not the way you usually say that- "I know the author so I felt compelled to give it a shot...out of courtesy".

I read it because I know Audra- my family and hers have broken bread together, the boys have played together, at one point we sent a goat, 2 baby guinea pigs and a wringer washer home in their mini-van in exchange for the delivery of a puppy.

We've met in a tornado-whipped campground in Oklahoma and in their home in Kansas.

I love Audra and her family, and that's no understatement.

So I didn't open Embers with hesitation- I knew it would be everything Audra is- funny, complex, whimsical, dramatic, passionate.

And I was not disappointed.

Embers at Galdrilene is dragon fantasy at its very best- following half a dozen very different characters on their journey to come to peace with their gift of magic and to answer the insistent humming of their dragon-partners: something they'd been told was impossible and even deadly, they form an unlikely alliance and discover places and things that were supposedly lost in the mists of history.

An absolutely stunning tapestry of a fairy tale, the characters are true and the setting comes alive, pulling the reader in and along for the ride.

I ordered a 'real' book, since I'm old and still prefer that format, but the cover and interior details are so fitting and beautiful that I highly recommend this version over the Kindle or Nook versions.

The best part?

Embers is only the first book. So when you turn the final page, it's not depressing- there's more to look forward to.

Embers at Galdrilene- by A.D. Trosper. Even and maybe especially if you don't read fantasy, your brain and heart will thank you for this refreshing vacation.

http://www.amazon.com/Embers-at-Galdrilene-Volume-1/dp/0615730957/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1357871140&sr=8-1&keywords=embers+at+galdrilene

Indy Secondhand Bookstore Find- "Ride a Rhino"

Alec and I were on a date day to Gladewater- little town that thinks of itself as the "antiques capital of Texas". It ain't bad. The entire square and for a block off of it is lined with little shops from fancy to shabby, immaculate to filthy- each one claiming to be "The Best of Gladewater".

We pass on the fancy immaculate ones, preferring the shabby filthy ones- places you have to actually study each and every square foot to see what's there.

Rusted ceiling tin draped with lace gloves and fishing nets and a stuffed bobcat gazing with marbled eyes at a set of bone china carefully arranged on an overturned kayak- that sort of place.

So we poked our way through most of the most cluttered ones, and then walked around outside the square- looking at the historic old houses. And there it was.

The used book store.

Just as dusty and cluttered as the most delicious antique store- how could we resist?

Back in the back of the store, in the corner around a corner was a metal rolling cart filled with sort of matching little books. The dust covers were all the same design and the books were all the same size- only the color of the design differed between them.

They're "Companion Book Club" books from Britain- circa 50's and 60's. From what I can gather, it was a "book of the month club" subscription deal. On the back covers are tantalizing snippets from upcoming releases.

So I decided to get one.

I looked them all over- there were a few mysteries, a lot about English gardens, and this one- "Ride a Rhino" by Michaela Denis. I'd never heard of Michaela Denis.

On the off-chance that you haven't, either- here ya go, followed by my review of the book.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michaela_Denis



"Ride a Rhino" is a series of short stories all having to do with Michaela's beloved Africa. Though some of the information about the various species is, of course, dated and some of the attitudes towards the indigenous people simplistic (but liberal for the times), it's nevertheless an enjoyable peek into the life of a woman who loved animals of all sorts- she and her husband were members of some of the first conservation efforts in Africa- undertaken admittedly (and refreshingly) because the black market made (and makes) the income from poaching for sale abroad profitable for a people who are literally starving.

There are also a fair amount of photos tucked in among the stories, helping them to come alive across half a century.

Against trophy hunting and champions of preserving native traditions, some chapters are heartbreaking, some hilarious (spoiler alert- Scorpions. Can it get any funnier?), but all are a Very Good Read.

I took my book to the counter tentatively- there was no price on it and with it being almost as old as I am but in better condition I braced myself for the price.

$2.50

I handed the man $5 and told him to keep the change. He asked me, "Are you sure?" and I told him yes.

I would've spent $5 at Barnes and Noble for a book from the bargain bin. And $5 meant way more to him than any of the checkers at B&N.

Support and encourage your local businesses.

Book Review- "The Good Caregiver" by Robert L. Kane, MD

Back in September we were at a family crossroads.

Our family already consisted of Ward, Alec and myself and 3 1/2 years ago we 'adopted' Joe who's a retired snowbird from Montana.

Back in July, Joe was supposed to go visit his mom in Oklahoma City when he announced he'd have to wait. Mom had fallen and was hospitalized and had told him to not come see her till she was out. Mom is in her early 90's.

Joe calmly filled his plate and sat down to eat- unaware of the changing tides. I knew at that moment that Edna was coming here.

I sent Joe to Oklahoma City the next day and told him I'd be there by suppertime to help him figure out the maze that is the medical system, which I did and then left him there to help his mom for a few weeks upon her discharge.

She had medicare-approved home health care for a few more weeks after that but then she decided she'd be better off not living on her own anymore. She said she'd just have to move into the nursing home.

Her apartment was part of a big "Wheel of Decline" complex- a ginormous Baptist church in the center, with spokes radiating around it-

-an ant farm warren of independent living apartments where she was residing- all senior citizens but no help whatsoever with medicines or shopping or cleaning or laundry. Once the residents reach the point Edna was at there is

-the nursing home. No private rooms, no cooking allowed, very few personal items accepted. As you become more disabled you move to

-the critical care wing. Dementia patients are there, including Edna's sister Wanda. We visited Wanda and it was horrifyingly depressing. Finally, the last slice of this end of life pie is

-the cemetery.

Seriously- it's actually set up that way.

Once Edna came home from the hospital I started calling her every evening to be sure she was OK, and managed to talk her into a visit to Texas. Just a visit. I told her if she liked it here we'd love to have her move here- there were many options that were exactly the same as in Oklahoma City- senior apartments, assisted living, nursing homes...with the benefit that her son would be right here and could visit her EVERY DAY instead of every other month.

*or*

She could set up a little house here on our land- we already had our house and Joe's house here- what's one more?

So she came to visit. Just to visit. For a week. She evicted Joe to his camper and moved into his cabin. For a week.

After 2 weeks she said, "I think I like it here".

Joe said, "That's great, mom".

She said, "This little cabin will be just fine- you can live in your camper, right?"

Joe said, "................" and fainted dead away.

Over the next week or so I took Edna to see little "Park Model" homes- not mobile homes, they're built just like a site-built home with real wood trim, super-insulated and drywall- just stout and really attractive little houses. Once we sat down and figured out that she could pay cash for one with the money a nursing home would require for 6 MONTHS, she was sold.

Fast forward to September.

Ward, Alec and I were in Denton for Alec's weekly Future Problem Solvers' meeting at the library and Ward and I were perusing the books on the shelf.

I came across "The Good Caregiver", leafed through it during the hour we were there, went home and ordered it on Amazon.

Oh, it goes into the very real issues that need to be considered and realized in caring for an elderly person- personal issues, safety issues, time issues, caregiver burnout issues. And it does an excellent job of that, asking hard questions of the care givers and would-be caregivers and giving a lot of good advice and directives for everything from finances to home safety.

But here's the thing.

I thought I knew the medical field and how to deal with insurance and hospitals and whatnot because of everything we'd been through with Ward.

I do.

For cancer and heart stuff.

For age-related issues? Not so much.

I had no idea how genuinely fucked up the options for the elderly are in this country.

How expensive care is, how little Medicare covers (spoiler alert- NONE), and how the majority of our older people- already feeling weak and powerless- have to spend every single dime they have and then HOPE they get accepted to Medicaid and then PRAY that the nursing home they are in takes it.

The author is a doctor, so the book comes from a medical perspective BUT he also was in charge of his own mother's elder care and so it comes from a caregiver's perspective. As a doctor and a son he's also very aware and very vocal regarding how totally broken the current medical system is- how many holes are in the social safety net for older people, how little actual clout there is to protect them- groups like AARP are geared towards marketing advocating to HEALTHY active older people- people who look and act like they're 40...but with silver hair.

The golfing/shopping/cruising population.

Remember back when my family had that little 6 week long incident at MD Anderson that almost killed Ward? I couldn't understand why the records keeping was (at their own admittance) so wildly stone-agedly cumbersome, there was NO (at their own admittance) communication between departments in the same stinking building and other things that people should've been screaming about from the rooftops.

Then it hit me- when people leave the cancer hospital, no matter the outcome, the family members are so exhausted and relieved/grieving that they don't look back. For their own sanity, they CAN'T look back.

Now I know that our elderly fall in the same category. From the book-

"Once an older person dies, the family usually tries to put the whole unpleasant experience behind them. Apart from disease-based organizations (like the Alzheimer's Association), long-term care has never attracted a sustained group of supporters willing to work to improve the situation."

Edna jumped ship from the "Wheel of Decline" and is busy every day in her own kitchen, doing her own laundry, tending her roses and vegetables, and caring for The Biteys and her baby...Joe. She and I do Girl's Day Out every Saturday, and I try to sit and visit a spell with her at least every other day. In a family filled with boys, having Edna here makes me feel less...outnumbered.

Instead of one of those "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up" gadgets, we have a baby monitor set up on top of her fridge and I turn it on when we go to bed and turn it off when I hear the Biteys dancing around because she's up and making coffee...and breakfast.

Joe is doing a fabulous job keeping track of her medications- something that was confusing to her with sometimes very negative results- and he has coffee with her every morning and checks in on her several times a day. He does the bulk of her errands and shopping and they are both benefiting from spending very important time together- time they haven't had in about 50 years.

One day I mentioned something about Edna to the owner at our feed store and he said, "You sure are doing angel's work- you'll be getting your reward in Heaven".

I told him emphatically, "NO- my reward is right here and right now- her name is Edna".

Edna and Joey working in her garden.

Book Review- "A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek"

Seriously?

"A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek" by Annie Dillard?

Didn't we all have to read that like in high school? Possibly.

There were many things I was supposed to do in high school, but was too busy with other pursuits. Or maybe I did read it and just don't remember doing it.

High school was like that.

ANYHOO.

"I need a book to read", I said to Ward- Keeper of the Dixon Library. He actually hates when I say that, because while MOST of the time the book he places in my hands is fabulous and just what my eyeballs and brain ordered, there have been a few times when his choice has been...unfortunate.

So he handed me his worn copy of Pilgrim hesitantly, saying "I'm sure you've read this but it's pretty good".

If you haven't read it, or if you can't remember reading it, or even if you read it AND remember reading it, here's what you need to do.

Read it again.

My only problem with this book is that it was so delicious, so very rich in its descriptive nature, that it was difficult reading more than one page at a time.

Each and every page, paragraph and sentence is thick with detail and must be consumed not as a novel but as poetry- slowly turning each word over carefully, fitting each one with the next as they drop gingerly yet effortlessly together.

What's it about?

Life. Nature. God. Eskimos. Bugs. Death. Horror. Beauty. Muskrats.

Where does it take place?

Tinker Creek, silly. All the above, in the familiar and fabulous context of one simple,ordinary extraordinary place.

A brilliant collage of scientific facts both book learnt and observed, are stitched together with folklore, laws of nature, seasonal forces, mythology, predatory and migratory behavior and experiments sensible and nonsensible, all encompassing a year of life on the ever-changing banks of Tinker Creek, a location that sparkles in its remarkable normalcy.

As perfect as the entire book is, there is one passage, one paragraph that I kept going back to, actually dog-eared the page so I could find it quickly (sorry, Gomez) because it's sublime in form and speaks my own heart better than I ever could.

Thank you, Annie.

"I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done my share of eating too. I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wandering awed about on a splintered wreck I've come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe a delicate air, whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions and whose beauty beats and shines not in it's imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them, under the wind-rent clouds, upstream and down."

Book Review- "Weapons of Mass Instruction"

"Weapons of Mass Instruction", by John Taylor Gatto isn't a new release, nor a bargain bin book find. I'd been wanting to read it since before we decided to home school Alec (and he's finishing up 6th grade now) but never got the chance.

I love this book. I love it because it validates every reason we're home schooling our son.

Both Ward and I suspected even during our own sentence in school systems (12 years for me, 16 years for Ward) that school wasn't so much about learning, about education, about donning actual thinking caps and expanding our intellectual horizons.

It seemed to both of us that we were being molded, formed, spindled and mutilated into what was CALLED "good upstanding contributing members of society" but felt a whole lot like the end result was intended to be "future Employees of the Month".

It was horrifying.

Ward is a far better person than I am. He went to school, got good grades, went to college and graduated with a shiny degree in Biology.

Me? Ummm...yeah.

When I was in junior high school, our town's schools were overcrowded and they hadn't built a new school yet so we had "split shift" schedules. 7th graders went to school from noon till 5pm and 8th and 9th graders from 7am-noon.

Our high school was a social experiment in "modular scheduling"- instead of Monday-Friday schedules, we had days 1-6. Instead of set class times, each class was 2 mods (40 minutes) or 3 mods (60 minutes). Most classes were on days 1/3/5 or 2/4/6. Before the school year started, they gave us the classes we were REQUIRED to take that year and a list of electives. We had to take X many credits to graduate. Then they let us do our own scheduling.

College-bound friends crammed themselves non-stop (except for the required 1 mod minimum for lunch) in a frenzy of grade point and credit attainment. I saw the scheduling as a different sort of challenge. My crowning achievement was senior year, day 4- I had class from 8:20-9am. And then I was free.

High school was pretty much a social event for me. Not that stupid useless crap like cheerleading and sports- I was on the school paper and a theater geek. When I was actually in the building anyway. Modular scheduling coupled with this being the '70's- before schools were on lockdown with metal detectors the exterior doors were ALL unlocked and people came and went unquestioned. There WERE school cops. We loved the school cops. They had the best weed. Or so I heard...

So it was pretty easy to come and go. I spent alot of time in the "go" mode. I'd walk to the city park down on the river- not a manicured/fountained sort of park, this was a "too swampy to build on so lets donate it to the city" sort of park. It was wild and isolated and I loved it. I'd walk to the art museum that had the glorious old fashioned gardens around it- the same beloved old historic home-turned-into-museum my mom had taken me to since I was 2 years old. During school hours.

I actually worked for the head of the English department who owned a small farm- during harvest season he'd have his teachers ask their students each day "When are you finished today? Wanna make some cash?" and off we'd go- like migrant workers in the back of his pickup to pick watermelons, or tomatoes, or pluck/process chickens. During school hours.

A few times my friends and I hopped the commuter train to Chicago in the early morning and be back home before dinner. We toured the museums, ate great (and cheap) food and generally hung around. Parental permission? Nah- they'd just worry, or worse- want to come with us. (Guess I'll find out if my mom reads my blog now...)

My POINT is that I learned more about nature study by spending quiet hours at the river's edge, more about hard physical labor at the truck farm, and more about getting around a big city sans wheels and more than pocket change than I ever learned sitting at a desk.

Here's something I've always wondered- I've always wondered how many of my classmates who went through the split shift/modular scheduling years ended up in the normal 9-2-5, because I never did. Our block of graduates hadn't graced a conventional classrooom since we were 13 years old, and I felt acutely the lack of training for "show up for 8 hours a day 5 days a week and obey someone you don't really like doing something that's probably a complete sham".

Oh, I worked. I worked full time from the time I was 16. I bussed tables. I worked at the school (teacher's aide- not tethered to a desk and alot of errand running), I worked any number of part time, half time, graveyard shifts to cobble enough money together to pay bills and stay fed. I worked at a Christmas tree lot, at an ice company, the city paper and a bank. I worked at a finance company and as a camp director. I had no pre-conceived notion of what I was "supposed" to do- other than get out and earn a living if I wanted to eat and have somewhere to live other than a cardboard box under the bridge.

In "Weapons of Mass Instruction" John Taylor Gatto takes us through the evolution of the American school system and explains beautifully what I instinctively felt- school has very little to do with education and everything to do with training a workforce to think spending 40+ hours a week at mind-numbing soul-crushing endeavors is how you're supposed to go through life.

According to the author, one huge tool in pigeonholing people at an early age and keeping them there and focused on learning answers and facts without delving into questions and reasons is standardized testing, which tell exactly nothing about intelligence, or life skills, or anything that makes a damn bit of sense in real life. Standardized tests are Big Business for the testers, an excellent way to keep students stressed and feeling unworthy, and the perfect excuse for not letting teachers...teach. Because such a huge chunk of the school year is spent "teaching to the test".

Somehow I knew that, too. When I was a senior in high school, I went to my parents and said "You know, I don't really know what I want to do for a career yet and I don't want to waste money on college till I'm sure- can I have some of my college money to maybe travel for a while?" This (seemingly sensible to me) request was met with unmitigated gales of laughter. "College money? COLLEGE MONEY?? COLLEGE MONEY??? What do you think we've been feeding and clothing you with for 18 years?"

Nevertheless, these same parents told me I HAD to take the SAT's with my friends just in case I decided I wanted to go to college. So they paid for me to sit my SAT and the morning of the test I showed up with my 2 college-bound friends. My friends went into the maws of the testing room. I hesitated at the door. I asked the woman at the door "Do you work here at the college?" She did. "If I decide I want to go to college in 5 years or 10 years or 20 years will it matter if I take the test today?"

She looked nervous.

"No. It won't matter", she said barely under her breath.

Not aware I was 40 years ahead of my time for John Taylor Gatto's Bartleby Project at the end of the book, I thanked her and turned away from the artificially lit arena of false importance and spent the day reading in the sunshine.

Spend all of a beautiful day sweating over which little dots to blacken in response to questions that have no real significance to Life, the Universe and Everything?

"I prefer not to".

Off the Wall Book Discovery- "Your Religion Is False"

"Your Religion Is False", by Joel Grus, doesn't fit in the Bargain Book category, since I didn't get it from a book store, and I paid full price ($14.95) for it. I can't even remember how I stumbled onto the website, but once I saw it, I had to have it.

This is not a book for the easily offended, but the beauty of it is that it's not trashing Christianity...or Islam...or Pastafarianism...or even Atheism.

"Your Religion Is False" is an across-the-board dissection of every single type of faith, belief or non-belief and while it's not snarky or cruel, it makes no excuses or justifications either.

The interesting thing is that we've all been raised up in some sort of belief system, making what we know seem sensible and right. So 99% of this book consists of head-nodding, smug chuckling "Wow- those folks are messed up to believe THAT" agreement.

Then there's that shining moment when the page is turned and there it is- YOUR belief system.

And in the critical, analytical light of day and typed there next to other beliefs, what seemed so normal as we grew up, so comforting whenever we were troubled, so obviously indisputable up to that very minute, looks as skewed and unbelievable as the rest of the book.

Far from being a tedious and boring read, Joel manages to cut most beliefs off at the knees in just a few pages- sometimes one is enough.

I understand that his intent was to be an equal opportunity wet blanket, in a humorous and uncomfortable way (the first clue to that is the cover- where "The Deposition" by Raphael is cleverly photoshopped into "Weekend at Jesus's") but here's what I took away from this book-

Just because what you grew up with seems right to YOU, does not automatically make what anyone else believes wrong. Or dangerous. Or threatening.

Of course Mr. Grus also thinks Religious Tolerance is false, so maybe he is just trying to be an asshole and I'm reading too much into it...

Bargain Book Discovery- "Them"

First, a confession. I paid more than $5 for this book. I paid $6 for this book BUT it's a hardcover, not a paperback.

"Them" by Nathan McCall is set in present day Atlanta, and is a study of relationships- racial, class, gender, educational, all focused on the two main characters- Barlowe Reed, middle aged black man who works at a print shop and Sandy Gilmore, just under middle aged white woman who, with her husband Sean, buys the house next door to Barlowe's rental.

The old 4th ward is home to the Martin Luther King Memorial, and is undergoing "urban renewal", which looks like two very different things depending on whose eyes you're looking through.

The book is peopled with a cast of characters who all behave pretty much stereotypically on both sides, as people tend to do in real life- having pre-conceived notions and...stereotypes and all.

"Them" is how each group refers to the other- as a chunk of knitted together yet interchangeable pieces instead of individuals.

Barlowe and Sandy don't really like each other, don't really trust each other, and hard as they try not to each of them constantly misunderstands the other- seeing a brilliant flash of the other's truths just out of their line of mental vision, but not quite being able to see it fully.

"Them" is not the type of book I'd usually pick up, but we drive through several "urban renewal" neighborhoods in Houston every time we go to the hospital, and they intrigue me- they always seem hopeful yet sullen, gracious decay giving way to stark renovation.

There's a certain look of dogged determination of the faces of all of "Them"- the residents being pushed out, and the new homeowners, and "Them" helped me understand more than the architectural changes taking place, but the motivations and inevitable fears behind all those determined faces.

Bargain Book Discovery- "Karma and Other Stories"

"Karma and Other Stories" by Rishi Reddi first caught my eye not because of the title, or the reviews on the back cover, but by the sheer simple elegant beauty of it.

It IS a beautiful elegant book- by all appearances it looks like a hard cover with a dust jacket, but it's a soft cover with enough overlap to fold inward- like the foldover end sleeves of a dust jacket, and I thought "How very cool is THAT?" because while I like using those dust jacket sleevy things in lieu of a bookmark, dust jackets generally end up disappointing me- they get torn easily and become ratty looking and I end up yanking them off and tossing them out, leaving a plain yakky cheap lookin' underbook that seems in turn embarrassed at being all nekkid and without its dust jacket's schmancy illustrations.

The artwork is lovely, with just enough foiled details to be classy.

The pages- oh my- the pages are linen-weight and color and it's a joy just to turn them.

I had to have this book merely for all the above reasons (inserting here that books like this one *which was on the bargain under $5 shelves* are the reason I will never, ever, EVER own a Kindle or a Nook or some other electronic screened bastardization of literature), and as I turned to the first story I fervently hoped the inside would be even half the delight of the outside.

And I'm happy to report that this is one case where you CAN completely judge the book by its cover.

There are seven short stories in Karma- not surprisingly stories about Indian people and families fitting into (or not fitting into) American society. Sort of all related, just enough to tie them together, but loosely enough for them each to be able to stand alone, the stories are carefully crafted with meticulous detail- the characters both believable and likable- even when acting badly.

And though there is conflict, and confusion, and stress and sometimes sadness in each of these families and in all of their hearts the overwhelming over-riding attitude shot through every story is dignity. And certain yet respectful pride of self and cultural history.

Struggling gracefully through non-cataclysmic yet intense turmoil from without and within, it was ever so easy to look on the characters of Karma with encouragement, and compassion, and admiration, but never ever with pity.

I loved reading this little book- it was very difficult to put it down once started- not for the normal "page-turner" reasons of mystery or thrill or excitement- but because in the middle of my own everyday annoyances and stresses taking a moment to open this book and absorb the words inside was akin to inhaling deeply of a gardenia.

"Karma and Other Stories" is a balm for the soul and a gentle smile for the heart.

Bargain Book Discovery- Tied to the Tracks

Tied to the Tracks by Rosina Lippi

www.rosinalippi.com

is a really fun read that just happens to combine two of my favorite elements-

tales of the South, since I'm a happily adopted Southerner and fully appreciate and enjoy the Southern Belle way of making the best of horrible situations along with encouraging the menfolk to think they are in charge of...anything,

and tales of the interplay within Italian families both blood-bound and extended, and the strong women who tend to dominate that social circle as well, albeit with less finesse and subterfuge.

The book takes place in New Jersey. And Georgia. And though the main story line has to do with the filming of a documentary, the chapters weave in and out of the differences between the South before the Civil Rights movement and the South of today (not much changed in some ways), the differences between the cultures of the North and the South (not much different in some ways), and the differences between homo and heterosexual relationships (pretty much exactly the same, actually).

The characters, every one of them, are likable and amazingly non-stereotyped considering how very easily that could have happened given their backgrounds and circumstances.

The only times the book bogged down were a few very gratuitous sex scenes- they just seemed forced and disjointed (puns not intended) in relation to the narrative before and after them- almost like an editor had said, "You need to spice this part up a little bit Here...and Here".

Writing sex scenes is tough. Sex in real life is generally not the stuff of either porn nor Harlequin Romances, but an act of comfort, love, bonding and even (if done right) humor.

It's almost embarrassing for me to be cruising along through a book happily and then BANG! yer right inside not only their bedroom, but yea verily inside their undergarments...

I understand it's a grownup book, with a grownup story, and grownups have sex.

Grownups go to the bathroom, too, but I don't need to have the details shared with me during the telling of the story. I can assume all on my own that sometime in that 300-400 pages they WILL be peeing. I don't need a descriptive account of it.

Enough of that.

Tied to the Tracks is a well-written and enjoyable summertime diversion that takes place over a 4th of July Jubilee Week in small-town Georgia- a week that includes tons of Southern Comfort foods, the traditions of generations, and a parade through the live-oak lined streets. That there are things even the townspeople don't know about each other- things they'd never DREAM of, no matter how many juleps they consumed, just makes it all the more funny...and heartbreaking.

Who could ask for more from a summertime book?

Bargain Book Discovery- Goodbye and Amen

We're all avid readers- every human in our house.

All of us are most comfortable with our noses in a good book, and even though the subject matter varies wildly between people and depending on the day, the important role books play in our family is evident to anyone entering our house.

Books are everywhere, every horizontal surface becomes, by default, a bookshelf, no matter the room or supposed intended use thereof.

In my old age, and at the encouragement of the rest of my family, I've taken to spending serious time putting thought to paper with mixed results, but it's all a learning and growing process- accomplishments even an old fart like me can achieve.

The best of my efforts having to do with living life on a small farm are published on www.homestead.org thanks to website owner (and my toughest critic...after myself) Neil Shelton, and I've had other things printed up into book form thanks to the magic of www.blurb.com.

Someday, if I'm very lucky, my book(s) will be published by a "real" publisher, but I have no illusions about best sellers or Oprah's Book Club. If and when I become a real, live, published author, my books will go straight to the Bargain Shelves of the big bookstores.

And that's OK with me- I purchase ALL my books from the $5 and under shelves and have yet to get a real stinker. I've been unlucky enough to READ real stinkers that are best sellers and refuse to do it again.

So I'm going to share some of my favorite books and hope to raise the sales for the authors by just a few copies.

Goodbye and Amen by Beth Gutcheon
www.bethgutcheon.com

A really neat little book presented absolutely wonderfully, the story surrounds the untimely death of a couple and the subsequent sorting through of things physical and emotional by their grown children and various grandchildren and friends.

The really neat part is that there's no narrative as such- the entire book is done as though all the characters are being interviewed about the events and it showcases how different people in the same family, in the same room, going through the same motions, see and feel things totally (sometimes heartbreakingly, sometimes hilariously) differently.

This is a great study of the interplay between grown siblings and how family hierarchy doesn't change no matter how old you are, how successful you are, or how many miles you put between you and your past.

A very depressing or comforting or happy or fatalistic thought, depending on where you personally fall in the food chain.

Oh. And just so ya'll know.

I don't read stuff that's full of violence, or graphic sex, or anything horrible.

Real life has that mess aplenty and I don't put myself in front of it for entertainment.

Alternatively, giving credit for everything good to God and blaming everything else on human frailty and/or Satan doesn't appeal to me either.

I enjoy a good story about ordinary people living through normal stuff with as much grace as most of us can drum up and coming out the other side mostly unscathed.

Wow. I'm boring.