A few weeks ago, I wrote here about reading Super Sad True Love Story, a novel by Gary Shteyngart. Well, I have a super sad true wheelchair story!
It is about my new power wheelchair - yes, the one that I got in June and have written about here, the really cool one (a Quantum Edge 6) that is so agile and has an awesome tilting seat, the one that I ended up waiting nearly eight months for after a prescription was botched and nearly six months after my old wheelchair broke down. So this story is partly sad even before it begins.
The super sad true wheelchair story starts on a Sunday morning in late August, when I went out the door at the end of meeting for worship. I heard a man say my name. I looked back and saw that in his hand was a wheel from my chair. I looked down and saw that the rear left wheel had fallen off. This was most surreal and definitely ended worship, at least for me!
I got a ride home, and, the next day, called the wheelchair place and pushed to have the wheel fixed in the next few days. I was leaving on a trip on Thursday, and, after all, I had just had the chair for two months. The wheel shouldn’t be falling off - ever, and especially not after two months.
The wheel was fixed in time for the trip, and all went well while I was away, but on the day after I returned, it was apparent that the wheel was coming off again. I called the wheelchair place, and a technician came out a day or two later and declared the chair “unsafe to drive.” (Really?) When I called the wheelchair place to find out the next step, I was told that the wheel was bent, that it was something I did and that, since this wasn’t under warranty, a request would have to be sent to Medi-Cal - a process that we all know can take months.
A few days later, feeling quite low, I called the saleswoman, who had raved about how great the chair was outdoors, and told her what was going on. A few hours later, literally, I received an e-mail from the wheelchair place saying the wheel is under warranty. Mmmmm.... Someone’s face got saved.
Then, over the next few weeks, it turned out that the wheel was on “back order” - there were no wheels? really? MAKE ONE! - until early November. But, two weeks ago, a wheel was “found” - actually a wheel from the demo. Again, someone’s face got saved.
A few days later, a technician - a very nice, super polite man (not your usual mechanic - I’m just saying...) - came and replaced the wheel. The next morning, for the first time in a month and a half, I got into the chair and left to go to a memorial service for Karl Benjamin, the famous artist who taught at Pomona College here. I was 20 feet from the house and in the middle of the street, and the left motor began cutting out. My attendant was out at the time, and, by turning the chair off and on several times, I managed to get back to the house. I didn’t get to the memorial.
I immediately sent an e-mail on that Saturday and then called the wheelchair place on the next Monday, when it was again implied that I had bent the wheel and was lucky to be getting a new one under warranty. The same nice technician came and discovered that the motor has a short - nothing to do with how the wheel was attached, like I wondered. I immediately felt a sense or relief, that I wasn’t crazy, that it really wasn’t my problem. This was last week, and the technician, who seemed genuinely ashamed, couldn’t say when the new motor would come in. I will call again on Monday.
Too bad there isn’t a lemon law for wheelchairs! I asked.
I have left out some twists and turns here, including being told by a disabled friend last month that these six-wheel chairs really aren’t good for rough outdoor use, but you get the drift. I have also been trying to get a mount so that my Vmax speech device with fit onto the other power wheelchair I’ve been able to use (and may well need to use more than I had in mind in the future), but that’s a whole other sad, dreary story - right in time for Halloween!
Friday, October 26, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
True but strange
A few days ago, I read in the Los Angeles Times that some people calling the L.A County Registrar of Voters had been getting a recorded message saying that the deadline for registering to vote in ext month’s election has passed, even though the deadline is October 22, this coming Monday. It turns out that the phone system can handle 24 callers at a time and that the overflow callers had been getting the post-October 22 message. This message was reportedly removed the previous afternoon.
The Times said it is unclear how many people had gotten the wrong message, and who knows how many of these people read this small article inside the second section of the paper - why wasn’t it above the fold on the paper’s front page? - or got the news somewhere else. At least one can reasonably assume that this was just a technological snafu and not another attempt at voter suppression. (I got my permanent absentee ballot last week, but it seemed awfully late, and I had called a few days earlier and was assured it was on the way.)
This may well have been just a freaky error, but it is hard not to think that it fall in line with other strange goings-on. Unfortunately, such doings as those below are nothing new and, unlike with the phone message mistake, stem from an extreme ideology or belief. (I thought I had one or two other example but seem to have misplaced them. Perhaps readers can suggest others - the more specific and detailed the better.)
*The mayor of Costa Mesa in Southern California, according to a report in the L.A Times a few weeks ago, requested an investigation of some of the city’s most prominent and long-running charities in an effort to get the homeless out of town. Mayor Eric Bever targeted two organizations, Share Our Selves and Someone Cares Soup Kitchen, comparing them to nightclubs that have become neighborhood nuisances and said the that it would go a long way to solving the problem of homeless people coming to Costa Mesa “if we managed to put the soup kitchen out of business.” The mayor will be termed out of office next month, and the director of Share Our Selves, in addition to noting that the mayor has never visited the center and that “(h)is message is old,” said, “Thank God he is going out the door.”
*According to the L.A Times last week, Georgia Republican Rep. Paul Broun, running unopposed for re-election next month, said late last month that evolution, embryology and the Big Bang Theory are “lies straight from the pit of Hell.” He also stated that the earth is 9,000. What’s even weirder and more disturbing, if not anything new, is that this man not only is a physician, he also sits on the House Science, Space and Technology Committee. So this is our government’s idea of science. Yikes!
The Times said it is unclear how many people had gotten the wrong message, and who knows how many of these people read this small article inside the second section of the paper - why wasn’t it above the fold on the paper’s front page? - or got the news somewhere else. At least one can reasonably assume that this was just a technological snafu and not another attempt at voter suppression. (I got my permanent absentee ballot last week, but it seemed awfully late, and I had called a few days earlier and was assured it was on the way.)
This may well have been just a freaky error, but it is hard not to think that it fall in line with other strange goings-on. Unfortunately, such doings as those below are nothing new and, unlike with the phone message mistake, stem from an extreme ideology or belief. (I thought I had one or two other example but seem to have misplaced them. Perhaps readers can suggest others - the more specific and detailed the better.)
*The mayor of Costa Mesa in Southern California, according to a report in the L.A Times a few weeks ago, requested an investigation of some of the city’s most prominent and long-running charities in an effort to get the homeless out of town. Mayor Eric Bever targeted two organizations, Share Our Selves and Someone Cares Soup Kitchen, comparing them to nightclubs that have become neighborhood nuisances and said the that it would go a long way to solving the problem of homeless people coming to Costa Mesa “if we managed to put the soup kitchen out of business.” The mayor will be termed out of office next month, and the director of Share Our Selves, in addition to noting that the mayor has never visited the center and that “(h)is message is old,” said, “Thank God he is going out the door.”
*According to the L.A Times last week, Georgia Republican Rep. Paul Broun, running unopposed for re-election next month, said late last month that evolution, embryology and the Big Bang Theory are “lies straight from the pit of Hell.” He also stated that the earth is 9,000. What’s even weirder and more disturbing, if not anything new, is that this man not only is a physician, he also sits on the House Science, Space and Technology Committee. So this is our government’s idea of science. Yikes!
Friday, October 5, 2012
Book marks
I don’t think of myself as one of those people with a stack of books on my night stand waiting for me to read. But the fact is that I buy two or three books at a time, usually at a bookstore, have them spiral-bound (so I don’t have to hold them open if they’re paperbacks) and then read them one at a time. I am definitely not of those people who read more than one book at a time. So I guess the books are waiting for me to read, but they aren’t waiting in vain.
I’ve recently begun to read Super Sad True Love Story by Gary Shteyngart, and I can tell you it’s a loopy hoot. Told through diary entries, e-mails and instant messages (so far), it seems to be a love story between a mis-matched young man and a younger woman, set in a not-too-distant future in which America is a shabby, militarized state and, among other things, everyone knows each other’s credit rating and communicates with and reads each other through devices, sometimes even when they are with each other in person. The novel is quirky and definitely different, outrageously funny even as it’s depressing, if not tragic - not unlike its over-the-top, half-joking title.
The really weird thing is that a lot of the books I’ve been reading lately have been quirky and definitely different, hilarious and off-the-wall, sort of sci-fi but not sci-fi (Mark Haskell Smith’s Baked, Christopher Moore’s Bite Me, etc.). I’m not complaining - I laugh out loud reading these books - and it’s nothing new (Alice in Wonderland, A Hitch-hiker’s Guide to the Universe, etc.), but, after a while, it does feel like the weird and wacky, if not always hilarious, is the new normal.
Then there’s John Irving, who can be quite weird and wacky and funny but is squarely grounded in everyday reality, down to the kitchen sink, being today’s Dickens. I did enjoy reading his reading his recent novel, Last Night in Twisted River, finding it a good, meaty read, but I have to say that he is getting tiring. I have enjoyed his books (The World According to Garp, The Hotel New Hampshire, Cider House Rules, A Son of the Circus, A Prayer for Owen Meany, etc.), but they are getting to be the same. Irving’s novels, as rich and enjoyable as they are, are obsessive and cloying, taking an idea and hammering it, hammering it, hammering it to death. It recently occurred to me that Irving writes novels like Wes Andersen makes movies. Both are obsessive in their work, and both drive me crazy, despite, or maybe because of, their charm.
Having said this, I never get tired of Larry McMurtry, whose output I find astounding (something like 50 novels, many quite hefty, plus other writings, including the screenplay for Brokeback Mountain). Yes, he writes a lot about cowboys and the Old West, but he also writes novels like Terms of Endearment (the film covers only the last twenty pages) which are quite contemporary and sometimes remarkably female-oriented. His novels set in Hollywood are a lot of fun.
When I bought Super Sad True Love Story, I also found a huge McMurtry novel, published decades ago, that I never knew about called Moving On. At over 700 pages, it was a pain to lug around, but it was remarkable, even brilliant, in a laconic, meandering ways. Set mainly in Texas, with side trips to L.A and San Francisco and even Altadena not too far from here, it is about a woman in a stormy marriage with a man who tries doing everything from rodeo photography to graduate school in literature. I kept thinking of a cross between Lonesome Dove and Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolff?
I’ve recently begun to read Super Sad True Love Story by Gary Shteyngart, and I can tell you it’s a loopy hoot. Told through diary entries, e-mails and instant messages (so far), it seems to be a love story between a mis-matched young man and a younger woman, set in a not-too-distant future in which America is a shabby, militarized state and, among other things, everyone knows each other’s credit rating and communicates with and reads each other through devices, sometimes even when they are with each other in person. The novel is quirky and definitely different, outrageously funny even as it’s depressing, if not tragic - not unlike its over-the-top, half-joking title.
The really weird thing is that a lot of the books I’ve been reading lately have been quirky and definitely different, hilarious and off-the-wall, sort of sci-fi but not sci-fi (Mark Haskell Smith’s Baked, Christopher Moore’s Bite Me, etc.). I’m not complaining - I laugh out loud reading these books - and it’s nothing new (Alice in Wonderland, A Hitch-hiker’s Guide to the Universe, etc.), but, after a while, it does feel like the weird and wacky, if not always hilarious, is the new normal.
Then there’s John Irving, who can be quite weird and wacky and funny but is squarely grounded in everyday reality, down to the kitchen sink, being today’s Dickens. I did enjoy reading his reading his recent novel, Last Night in Twisted River, finding it a good, meaty read, but I have to say that he is getting tiring. I have enjoyed his books (The World According to Garp, The Hotel New Hampshire, Cider House Rules, A Son of the Circus, A Prayer for Owen Meany, etc.), but they are getting to be the same. Irving’s novels, as rich and enjoyable as they are, are obsessive and cloying, taking an idea and hammering it, hammering it, hammering it to death. It recently occurred to me that Irving writes novels like Wes Andersen makes movies. Both are obsessive in their work, and both drive me crazy, despite, or maybe because of, their charm.
Having said this, I never get tired of Larry McMurtry, whose output I find astounding (something like 50 novels, many quite hefty, plus other writings, including the screenplay for Brokeback Mountain). Yes, he writes a lot about cowboys and the Old West, but he also writes novels like Terms of Endearment (the film covers only the last twenty pages) which are quite contemporary and sometimes remarkably female-oriented. His novels set in Hollywood are a lot of fun.
When I bought Super Sad True Love Story, I also found a huge McMurtry novel, published decades ago, that I never knew about called Moving On. At over 700 pages, it was a pain to lug around, but it was remarkable, even brilliant, in a laconic, meandering ways. Set mainly in Texas, with side trips to L.A and San Francisco and even Altadena not too far from here, it is about a woman in a stormy marriage with a man who tries doing everything from rodeo photography to graduate school in literature. I kept thinking of a cross between Lonesome Dove and Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolff?
Friday, September 21, 2012
Real roadside attractions
On this last day of summer, I must say that I have traveled a lot these last few months, going to Northern California three times in my van. As I mentioned in recent posts, I went to the California WorldFest music festival in Grass Valley where I camped in mid-July, Pacific Yearly Meeting in rural Marin County in mid-August and the California Men’s Gathering near Santa Rosa over Labor Day weekend. Each trip involved a hotel stay on the way up and down, and it seemed crazy to return to Claremont between the latter two, being so close together, both in terms of time and geography. As much as I love traveling, I have to admit that I’m glad to be home for a while!
Over years of traveling, I have learned several things, including the fact that it taking six hours to drive between here and the Bay Area on Highway 5, or 8 hours on Highway 101, really depends on there being no traffic and hard, steady driving. I have also come across some nice surprises - really good places where I didn’t expect at all to find them. Here are a few.
*Taste of India, right off Highway 5 at the McKittrick Exit near Bakersfield. Although the selection is somewhat limited and basic, it’s downright exciting to see a sit-down, authentic Indian restaurant among all the nasty fast-food joints along this nasty stretch of the 5. It has tasty to-go wraps, a thoughtful nod to Highway 5 travelers who like good food, and the coolest thing is that its billboards along the freeway advertise its vegan entrees.
*In Bishop, of all places, across Highway 395 from the Motel 6, which, as far as I know and as I have written about here, is the only one left with a wheelchair-accessible room with two beds, there is a pretty good Chinese restaurant. It’s called the Imperial Palace or Imperial Garden, and it’s a nice, surprising bonus after a long, spectacular, rural drive. (I also can’t help but note that it’s in front of the county’s small Department of Public Social Services office.)
*Also in Bishop on the 395 is Schats Bakery, which turns out to have awesome chili cheese bread. I always thought the place was just a tourist trap. You can actually order the large loaves and lots of other stuff by phone at (760)873-7156 or (866)323-5854 between 9 and 3 on weekdays. By the way, Jack’s, a few blocks down the highway, is good for breakfast.
There are a bunch of other places that I love and always return to when traveling in California, such as the Saturn Café in Santa Cruz, which I have written about here (on my visit this summer, my waiter was a cutie with a mohawk featuring four long spikes), and a few restaurants in San Luis Obispo, but these are weird, out-of-the-way treats. Who knew?
Over years of traveling, I have learned several things, including the fact that it taking six hours to drive between here and the Bay Area on Highway 5, or 8 hours on Highway 101, really depends on there being no traffic and hard, steady driving. I have also come across some nice surprises - really good places where I didn’t expect at all to find them. Here are a few.
*Taste of India, right off Highway 5 at the McKittrick Exit near Bakersfield. Although the selection is somewhat limited and basic, it’s downright exciting to see a sit-down, authentic Indian restaurant among all the nasty fast-food joints along this nasty stretch of the 5. It has tasty to-go wraps, a thoughtful nod to Highway 5 travelers who like good food, and the coolest thing is that its billboards along the freeway advertise its vegan entrees.
*In Bishop, of all places, across Highway 395 from the Motel 6, which, as far as I know and as I have written about here, is the only one left with a wheelchair-accessible room with two beds, there is a pretty good Chinese restaurant. It’s called the Imperial Palace or Imperial Garden, and it’s a nice, surprising bonus after a long, spectacular, rural drive. (I also can’t help but note that it’s in front of the county’s small Department of Public Social Services office.)
*Also in Bishop on the 395 is Schats Bakery, which turns out to have awesome chili cheese bread. I always thought the place was just a tourist trap. You can actually order the large loaves and lots of other stuff by phone at (760)873-7156 or (866)323-5854 between 9 and 3 on weekdays. By the way, Jack’s, a few blocks down the highway, is good for breakfast.
There are a bunch of other places that I love and always return to when traveling in California, such as the Saturn Café in Santa Cruz, which I have written about here (on my visit this summer, my waiter was a cutie with a mohawk featuring four long spikes), and a few restaurants in San Luis Obispo, but these are weird, out-of-the-way treats. Who knew?
Friday, September 7, 2012
One more light in Claremont - even in the dark
Following is another of my columns that appeared earlier this summer in the Claremont Courier, this one about something else that makes Claremont a cool place to live - and perhaps to visit! It is interesting to note, by the way, that the artist James Turrell has Quaker roots, where the concept of light is paramount.
Meanwhile, I can use all the light I can get right now. In addition to having to be catheterized when I was not able to urinate several weeks ago while on a trip up north (I should get the catheter out next week and want to find out why this stoppage happened, as it also did about ten years ago, and how to prevent it from ever happening again), I now can’t use my new chair (and also my Vmax speech device). Two weeks ago, the rear left wheel fell off! Crazy! I got it fixed before going on another trip north last weekend, but when I returned, it was evident the wheel was about to come off again. The shop now says it has to request funding from Medi-Cal to replace the wheel. Who knows how long this will take? I am extremely frustrated and disheartened. Shouldn’t this be under warranty? (The trips - the first to an annual week-long Quaker meeting in very rural Marin County and the second to the California Men’s Gathering a bit further north - were both awesome despite my medical problem. Too bad I couldn’t just stay up there between!)
ANOTHER CLAREMONT ADVENTURE: TRIPPING ON THE LIGHT FANTASTIC
When Cameron Munter grew up in Claremont, it was special. Indeed, it was magical. Claremont was “a sun-dappled place where peace and all was possible.”
This is what Mr. Munter remembers, as he shared in his commencement address at Pomona College two months ago. The career diplomat, who recently served as U.S Ambassador to Pakistan, a faraway place that cries out for the possibility of peace, waxed fondly about growing up in Claremont, saying that it prepared him well for a life of trying to make the world a better, more secure place.
He spoke of spending hours playing in the street and then roaming around the college campuses. He remembered Claremont as a safe place to take off on a bicycle to explore and find what happens and what is possible.
I also spent hours exploring the college campuses when I was growing up in Claremont , although I wasn’t on a bicycle. This was after I went around more and more blocks in my neighborhood in my first motorized wheelchair. After I ventured across Indian Hill Boulevard, the world of the colleges opened up to me, and all that stopped me, really, was how much juice was in my battery (more limited then).
I would spend afternoons on the Scripps College campus, venturing down every path that didn’t have steps and into every courtyard. I would imagine - and still do - that in a few hundred year, the campus, with its jewel of a garden setting and its Mediterranean, Spanish and Moorish architecture, will be a three-star attraction in a guidebook, like a cathedral in a small, out-of-the-way town in Italy.
Or maybe not so small and out-of-the-way. It could well be that all or most of the Claremont campuses will be a tourist destination of note for future generations. I also imagined this as I enjoyed tooling around Pomona College and the other colleges, getting up close to the monumental buildings.
I don’t explore the campuses as much as I used to (I am more engaged with what goes on in the buildings), I have written about the stunning, world-class Prometheus mural by Orazco in Frary dining hall - quite a remarkable and lovely building itself - at Pomona College. Last summer, I wrote about getting reacquainted with the renovated Greek Theater, as well as the Wash and the Farm, also at Pomona.
Last summer, I made another discovery, again at Pomona College. Actually, I have heard about it for several years, but it was a year ago when I went with a group of friends and found out exactly where it is. I have since taken a couple friends. It is truly something magical.
“Dividing the Light” literally does that. It is a permanent light installation - a light show always playing - in the Draper Courtyard of the Lincoln Building at the northwest corner of Sixth Street and Columbia Avenue, between Bridges Auditorium and Honold Library. The artist, James Turrell, who attended Pomona College and is known for such work, calls it a Skyspace, and, with it, he uses light to gently, playfully asks us to think about how we see things.
The Los Angeles Times called the piece, which debuted in 2007, “one of the best works of public art in recent memory.” It is that and much more. It is a trip.
The installation consists of an atrium above a simple square reflecting pool and framing the sky. At timed intervals, the atrium is bathed in changing colored lights which also, in deep contrasts, dramatically changes the color of the sky above.
This effect is heightened at sunset, when the sky itself changes color as color leaves the sky. As the atrium is filled with blue, red and yellow, the sky goes from rose to green to teal to jet black and back again. It is a brilliant, breathtaking sight - or sight trick - magic, as I said, and mind-blowing.
For those who like getting up early - perhaps appealing on these hot days - I suspect the experience is at least as spectacular at sunrise, when color blooms and fills the sky.
The college campuses are certainly more exciting when the students are around, with all that goes on during the school year, but there is much to explore when things are quiet in the summer. And, whether at dawn or in the cool of the evening, the Turrell Skyscape at Pomona College is a wonderful discovery, a refreshing, eye-opening treat.
Meanwhile, I can use all the light I can get right now. In addition to having to be catheterized when I was not able to urinate several weeks ago while on a trip up north (I should get the catheter out next week and want to find out why this stoppage happened, as it also did about ten years ago, and how to prevent it from ever happening again), I now can’t use my new chair (and also my Vmax speech device). Two weeks ago, the rear left wheel fell off! Crazy! I got it fixed before going on another trip north last weekend, but when I returned, it was evident the wheel was about to come off again. The shop now says it has to request funding from Medi-Cal to replace the wheel. Who knows how long this will take? I am extremely frustrated and disheartened. Shouldn’t this be under warranty? (The trips - the first to an annual week-long Quaker meeting in very rural Marin County and the second to the California Men’s Gathering a bit further north - were both awesome despite my medical problem. Too bad I couldn’t just stay up there between!)
ANOTHER CLAREMONT ADVENTURE: TRIPPING ON THE LIGHT FANTASTIC
When Cameron Munter grew up in Claremont, it was special. Indeed, it was magical. Claremont was “a sun-dappled place where peace and all was possible.”
This is what Mr. Munter remembers, as he shared in his commencement address at Pomona College two months ago. The career diplomat, who recently served as U.S Ambassador to Pakistan, a faraway place that cries out for the possibility of peace, waxed fondly about growing up in Claremont, saying that it prepared him well for a life of trying to make the world a better, more secure place.
He spoke of spending hours playing in the street and then roaming around the college campuses. He remembered Claremont as a safe place to take off on a bicycle to explore and find what happens and what is possible.
I also spent hours exploring the college campuses when I was growing up in Claremont , although I wasn’t on a bicycle. This was after I went around more and more blocks in my neighborhood in my first motorized wheelchair. After I ventured across Indian Hill Boulevard, the world of the colleges opened up to me, and all that stopped me, really, was how much juice was in my battery (more limited then).
I would spend afternoons on the Scripps College campus, venturing down every path that didn’t have steps and into every courtyard. I would imagine - and still do - that in a few hundred year, the campus, with its jewel of a garden setting and its Mediterranean, Spanish and Moorish architecture, will be a three-star attraction in a guidebook, like a cathedral in a small, out-of-the-way town in Italy.
Or maybe not so small and out-of-the-way. It could well be that all or most of the Claremont campuses will be a tourist destination of note for future generations. I also imagined this as I enjoyed tooling around Pomona College and the other colleges, getting up close to the monumental buildings.
I don’t explore the campuses as much as I used to (I am more engaged with what goes on in the buildings), I have written about the stunning, world-class Prometheus mural by Orazco in Frary dining hall - quite a remarkable and lovely building itself - at Pomona College. Last summer, I wrote about getting reacquainted with the renovated Greek Theater, as well as the Wash and the Farm, also at Pomona.
Last summer, I made another discovery, again at Pomona College. Actually, I have heard about it for several years, but it was a year ago when I went with a group of friends and found out exactly where it is. I have since taken a couple friends. It is truly something magical.
“Dividing the Light” literally does that. It is a permanent light installation - a light show always playing - in the Draper Courtyard of the Lincoln Building at the northwest corner of Sixth Street and Columbia Avenue, between Bridges Auditorium and Honold Library. The artist, James Turrell, who attended Pomona College and is known for such work, calls it a Skyspace, and, with it, he uses light to gently, playfully asks us to think about how we see things.
The Los Angeles Times called the piece, which debuted in 2007, “one of the best works of public art in recent memory.” It is that and much more. It is a trip.
The installation consists of an atrium above a simple square reflecting pool and framing the sky. At timed intervals, the atrium is bathed in changing colored lights which also, in deep contrasts, dramatically changes the color of the sky above.
This effect is heightened at sunset, when the sky itself changes color as color leaves the sky. As the atrium is filled with blue, red and yellow, the sky goes from rose to green to teal to jet black and back again. It is a brilliant, breathtaking sight - or sight trick - magic, as I said, and mind-blowing.
For those who like getting up early - perhaps appealing on these hot days - I suspect the experience is at least as spectacular at sunrise, when color blooms and fills the sky.
The college campuses are certainly more exciting when the students are around, with all that goes on during the school year, but there is much to explore when things are quiet in the summer. And, whether at dawn or in the cool of the evening, the Turrell Skyscape at Pomona College is a wonderful discovery, a refreshing, eye-opening treat.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Can we talk - really?
Here is my most recent Claremont Courier column. I’ll just add that after a particularly harsh screed printed in the paper, the editor suggested in a note that if the writer hates Claremont so much, he can always move.
RHETORIC MAKES FOR A HOTTER CLAREMONT SUMMER
Hello!
It was a church group.
I don’t know why people were shocked - shocked! - about what happened when, in a new addition to the City’s Fourth of July Celebration, the choir from the Pomona First Baptist Church presented a concert of patriotic music in front of the Claremont Depot at the beginning of July. Sure, “God bless America,” “In God we trust,” even “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord” and “Glory, glory, hallelujah, His truth is marching on” are familiar tropes in patriotic American song, but they do have a different, very distinct ring when put forth by a Christian body.
This wasn’t the Pomona College Choir singing a Bach mass. Or, perhaps in a better example for those with questions about Pomona College’s Congregational beginnings, the choir with students from Scripps, Claremont McKenna, Harvey Mudd and Pitzer College singing “O, Magnum Mysterium.”
“What was the City thinking?” was the immediate question, including from members of the City’s Human Relations Commission, regarding what some saw as evangelism at a City-sponsored event. Or even in a public space. This was all the more poignant after the City ended up backing out of a celebration featuring a Catholic Mass in El Barrio Park not long before.
But perhaps the question should be “What were people thinking?” What was anyone thinking?
This is what I’ve been asking, with people firing off letters, printed in these pages, ricocheting off each other in a steady stream since the patriotic concert. These letters haven’t been about how good or bad the singing was, and they have definitely made summer even hotter and steamier around here.
Some letters have said that Christians should be allowed to express their faith in public, with a few at least implying that they have a duty to spread their faith. Some letters have said that religion has no place in the public square, citing the First Amendment and saying that it makes people of other faiths or no religious belief feel left out or estranged. At least one letter included the opinion that it’s unfair that it’s okay for Occupy Claremont to have a presence in front of City Hall, at least for a while, even as a Christian great doing so wouldn’t be tolerated. One letter was from representatives of the A.C.L.U threatening legal action unless the City draws up rules, or clarifies the rules it does have, regarding church/state issues.
Like I said, Claremont has been heating up in the last month or so, whether or not the mercury has been rising.
I’m wondering if the real question isn’t, what was anyone thinking, but, rather, was anyone thinking? Or, maybe, thinking too much.
It could be argued that Occupy Claremont is based on religious values, even Christian values - peace, justice and all that - but, as far as I know, it’s not a religious group. It is certainly not a church choir singing in front of City Hall. Or like a church choir singing in front of City Hall.
But what about Claremont’s Fourth of July parade? Do we really think about what goes on in it?
For many years, there has been a large contingent or two, at least, from fundamentalist Christian churches, with Christo-centric songs blaring forth. I am not here to advocate them being banned from the parade, like those who sue to have God removed from the Pledge of Allegiance, but what about the Jewish people, the Muslims, the Buddhists who are there to cheer on the parade? How do they feel when these contingents pass by? What about Sikhs, a group recently victimized in a recent terrorist act?
Likewise, the large contingent in recent years featuring people of different faiths championing same-sex marriage (which I have been involved in) has, for sure, elicited some frowns and thumbs down. Again, this is a case in which some feel obliged or called to express their beliefs, especially when they see them challenged or see those with differing beliefs as “lost.”
And, no doubt, there are those who rather see a contingent of soldiers or veterans waving the red, white and blue than a group of peace marchers carrying signs.
Over the years, such issues have inspired a letter or two regarding the parade. But then the topic quickly dropped, with no on-going conversation.
But can we have a real conversation, a constructive, productive dialogue, about expressing religious beliefs in public spaces, at public events? Perhaps what we should really ask is if we want to think about this and if we can talk about it without getting hot under the collar.
And I don’t know if suggesting that someone who doesn’t like what’s going on go elsewhere, no matter how negative and harsh the expressed opinions are, is what I mean by constructive and productive.
RHETORIC MAKES FOR A HOTTER CLAREMONT SUMMER
Hello!
It was a church group.
I don’t know why people were shocked - shocked! - about what happened when, in a new addition to the City’s Fourth of July Celebration, the choir from the Pomona First Baptist Church presented a concert of patriotic music in front of the Claremont Depot at the beginning of July. Sure, “God bless America,” “In God we trust,” even “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord” and “Glory, glory, hallelujah, His truth is marching on” are familiar tropes in patriotic American song, but they do have a different, very distinct ring when put forth by a Christian body.
This wasn’t the Pomona College Choir singing a Bach mass. Or, perhaps in a better example for those with questions about Pomona College’s Congregational beginnings, the choir with students from Scripps, Claremont McKenna, Harvey Mudd and Pitzer College singing “O, Magnum Mysterium.”
“What was the City thinking?” was the immediate question, including from members of the City’s Human Relations Commission, regarding what some saw as evangelism at a City-sponsored event. Or even in a public space. This was all the more poignant after the City ended up backing out of a celebration featuring a Catholic Mass in El Barrio Park not long before.
But perhaps the question should be “What were people thinking?” What was anyone thinking?
This is what I’ve been asking, with people firing off letters, printed in these pages, ricocheting off each other in a steady stream since the patriotic concert. These letters haven’t been about how good or bad the singing was, and they have definitely made summer even hotter and steamier around here.
Some letters have said that Christians should be allowed to express their faith in public, with a few at least implying that they have a duty to spread their faith. Some letters have said that religion has no place in the public square, citing the First Amendment and saying that it makes people of other faiths or no religious belief feel left out or estranged. At least one letter included the opinion that it’s unfair that it’s okay for Occupy Claremont to have a presence in front of City Hall, at least for a while, even as a Christian great doing so wouldn’t be tolerated. One letter was from representatives of the A.C.L.U threatening legal action unless the City draws up rules, or clarifies the rules it does have, regarding church/state issues.
Like I said, Claremont has been heating up in the last month or so, whether or not the mercury has been rising.
I’m wondering if the real question isn’t, what was anyone thinking, but, rather, was anyone thinking? Or, maybe, thinking too much.
It could be argued that Occupy Claremont is based on religious values, even Christian values - peace, justice and all that - but, as far as I know, it’s not a religious group. It is certainly not a church choir singing in front of City Hall. Or like a church choir singing in front of City Hall.
But what about Claremont’s Fourth of July parade? Do we really think about what goes on in it?
For many years, there has been a large contingent or two, at least, from fundamentalist Christian churches, with Christo-centric songs blaring forth. I am not here to advocate them being banned from the parade, like those who sue to have God removed from the Pledge of Allegiance, but what about the Jewish people, the Muslims, the Buddhists who are there to cheer on the parade? How do they feel when these contingents pass by? What about Sikhs, a group recently victimized in a recent terrorist act?
Likewise, the large contingent in recent years featuring people of different faiths championing same-sex marriage (which I have been involved in) has, for sure, elicited some frowns and thumbs down. Again, this is a case in which some feel obliged or called to express their beliefs, especially when they see them challenged or see those with differing beliefs as “lost.”
And, no doubt, there are those who rather see a contingent of soldiers or veterans waving the red, white and blue than a group of peace marchers carrying signs.
Over the years, such issues have inspired a letter or two regarding the parade. But then the topic quickly dropped, with no on-going conversation.
But can we have a real conversation, a constructive, productive dialogue, about expressing religious beliefs in public spaces, at public events? Perhaps what we should really ask is if we want to think about this and if we can talk about it without getting hot under the collar.
And I don’t know if suggesting that someone who doesn’t like what’s going on go elsewhere, no matter how negative and harsh the expressed opinions are, is what I mean by constructive and productive.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Justice done
I have written a few times here about Jared Lee Lochner, the gunman in the Tucson shooting a year and a half ago, who killed 6 and severely wounded Senator Gabrielle Giffords among others. My last post on the subject was about how nuts it was that Lochner was being forcibly drugged so that he could be sane enough to be tried and sentenced to death.
So I groaned on Sunday when I read in the Los Angeles Times that Lochner, after being drugged and treated at a psychiatric prison, was going to be declared competent to stand trial at a hearing. I thought the insanity was going to continue.
On Tuesday, when the hearing took place, I was relieved to hear that Lochner, who did appear to be calmer and reasonable, plead guilty and that there will be no trial and no death penalty. This spares everyone a wrenching and expensive high-profile trial, and, best of all, at least in this case, it stops the insanity of the government having a hand in murder.
Lochner will no doubt get life without parole, which is absolutely appropriate. I hope he gets the helps he needs to be well in prison. The only other thing I’ll say is that, with all the hand-wringing going on but no action being taken after all the mass shootings that have happened, including the recent ones at a movie theater and at a Sikh temple, it appears very much that the N.R.A has America by the balls.
So I groaned on Sunday when I read in the Los Angeles Times that Lochner, after being drugged and treated at a psychiatric prison, was going to be declared competent to stand trial at a hearing. I thought the insanity was going to continue.
On Tuesday, when the hearing took place, I was relieved to hear that Lochner, who did appear to be calmer and reasonable, plead guilty and that there will be no trial and no death penalty. This spares everyone a wrenching and expensive high-profile trial, and, best of all, at least in this case, it stops the insanity of the government having a hand in murder.
Lochner will no doubt get life without parole, which is absolutely appropriate. I hope he gets the helps he needs to be well in prison. The only other thing I’ll say is that, with all the hand-wringing going on but no action being taken after all the mass shootings that have happened, including the recent ones at a movie theater and at a Sikh temple, it appears very much that the N.R.A has America by the balls.
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