"A Mighty Heart"

We were with friends over the weekend who had seen "A Mighty Heart" and who were vocally critical of it as being nothing other than a virtuoso piece for Angelina Jolie, and telling nothing about why Daniel Pearl was kidnapped.

I saw the movie last night, and can only conclude that there are two separate movies being circulated, both called "A Mighty Heart", both ostensibly about the kidnapping and murder of Daniel Pearl, and both starring Angelina Jolie. But there the resemblance ends.

The "A Mighty Heart" I saw last night was absolutely riveting, one of the few movies that I have ever seen that kept me on the edge of my seat with continual anxiety throughout. I was surprised both because of my friends' weekend reviews, but also because I did not expect much from the story. A journalist in Pakistan goes on an interview that he perhaps should have known better than pursuing, is kidnapped and murdered by radical Islamists. Leaves behind a young, beautiful, French and pregnant journalist wife. Very sad, obviously. But it would not appear that this would be the makings of a great film or adventure story.

But that is what it is. Karachi comes alive, socially and visually. The life of a young western couple about to leave the country and have their first child, but living in the chaos of Pakistan becomes almost intelligible. The possibility of scoring a major interview with a radical sheik and the risks (and yes, the precautions) taken in getting the interview are easily understood.

And he does not come home. And his wife Marianne and her support from the Wall Street Journal community and, yes, from the Pakistanis with whom she is in contact, make perfect sense.

It is the effort put into the search by everyone, Pakistani officials, friends, informal contacts, American embassy and, yes, CIA workers, Wall Street Journal staffers. It is this, the effort, and the complexity of the search, that is truly remarkable.

The acting is extraordinary. Not only Jolie, but everyone. You are not watching actors playing Johnny and June Carter Cash. You are watching the real thing. You are there.

The direction, the seamless moving from scene to scene (with most scenes relatively short, and absolutely no wasted footage or dialogue), and the building crescendo from start to finish were nothing short of remarkable. And, presumably, true to the story and to the personalities involved.

I have a copy of Marianne Pearl's book. It never occurred to me that I wanted to read it. But now, I think I will.

One question remains. The title of the movie (and book), which may be a bit misleading. If it is Daniel Pearl's heart that is mighty, you could expect a little more information about Daniel Pearl. But the title should not be a criterion for judging the movie.

A Day in the Country (one cent)

The 17th annual Contemporary American Theater Festival in Shepherdstown, WV. We have probably been there three or four other times, usually with an overnight stay, so that we can see all four performances. This time, we went down and back the same day, seeing two of the four. We had not been for a few years.

Thoughts:

1. The Drive. I-270 to Frederick, and I-70 west to ALT US 40, then through Middletown to Boonesboro, left on MD 34 through Sharpsburg and over the Potomac into Shepherdstown. It is just over 60 miles, and (once you get beyond Frederick), a very, very pretty drive. Beautiful hill and mountain scenery, attractive and historic towns, the Anteitam battlefields.

2. The Festival. More crowded, more professional in its staging, clearly spending a lot more on the technical aspects of the productions.

3. The Food. A disappointment. Lunch at Stone Soup, where it was hard to find the chicken curry in the chicken curry whole wheat wrap, was mediocre but comfortable. More disappointing was the Yellow Brick Bank, formerly a favorite of ours, but also disappointing at our last visit to Shepherdstown a year or so ago, when we had lunch at the restaurant. it is still a very attractive restaurant, but the food was minor league, while the prices remained in the majors. The salmon (and as I understand it the halibut) was extremely bland, and no one raved about what they had.

4. Play #1 - My Name is Rachel Corrie. Rachel Corrie is the 23 year old American killed by an IDF bulldozer in Gaza in 2003. The play is compiled from her diary and journals and emails. She is an idealistic young girl, not satisfied living her life out in Olympia WA, and who thinks that it is everyone's obligation to fix the world. Without knowing it (perhaps), the personification of tikkun olam. Somehow (not clear how), she joins a group dedicated to helping the Palestinians in Gaza, is trained in non-violence, and with others go to Gaza to work with the people. The Palestinians are very welcoming. Sh e is doing her thing, hoping (wondering) if it will help. She starts thinking, Ann Frank-style, that all people are really good, but at the end (and not surprisingly) begins to think that the Israelis must be a breed apart. This is not surprising, since she had spent several months in the line of fire. There is nothing in the play about politics, per se. Nothing about any political issue, just a social issue, the ranting against people being forced into the situation of the Gaza residents. Or about strategy. The play is about Rachel Corrie, and what goes on in her mind, as she (to her own surprise) does some very brave things.

The play has been very controversial, as being pro-Palestinian, and anti-Israel. I was very surprised at how inaccurate this interpretation was. With the exception of a line or two, the play is only about Corrie, and about the universal problem of suffering during times of trouble. Lisa Traiger in the review of the play in Jewish Week, said much the same thing. Her review was quite accurate. There is nothing for the Jewish world to be upset about here and if it is upset, it is not the problem of the play.

Rachel Corrie is a one woman, one act play. Anne Marie Nest is to be commended for her performance, and for learning all the lines. My question is whether her portrayal of Corrie mirrored Corrie's carriage and demeanor. Before I give my overall impression of her performance, I would like to know that. I know that Corrie's parents were in Shepherdstown to see an early performance; I would like to know what they thought of the production. I also wonder what Corrie herself would think about what is happening in Gaza today, where the Israelis are no longer the ones doing the shooting.

Following the play, there was a talk back with Yonatan Shapira, a former IDF fighter turned peace activist. In a tent on the grounds of the Shepherd U. campus, it drew a surprisingly big crowd. But it did not look like his presentation, nor the Q and A which was to follow, would be fun, and we left.

5. Play #2 - 1001. We were all looking forward to Jason Grote's play, a spoof on Sheherazade and her 1001 tales. It was a mainstage production and technically very complicated, and visually appealing for the most part. The acting was of high caliber. But the play, jumping forward from an old Persian kingdom to New York in 2001, was as cluttered as cluttered can be, none of the characters were at all sympathetic, and the cameo appearances (in the stories) of people like Gustav Flaubert, Jorge Luis Borges, Alan Dershowitz and a singing/dancing Osama bin Laden, were downright bizarre. Many groups (the Moslems, the Persians, the Arabs, the Jews, the Christians) were parodied without mercy. Some were undeserving; others deserve the criticism, but not in a comic fashion. I was in fact embarrassed for the playwright and the cast.

But the large audience seem to have loved it. So perhaps, I am being harsh. Maybe I was just expecting something different. I went with a very positive attitude. What turned me off? It was not the humor; I like humor. I think it was the insulting way that Grote (or the director) dealt with the portrayal of each ethnic/religious group. In part it seemed so mean spirited that it destroyed the humor for me even where I thought that the subject could be treated with humor, and by destroying the humor, it turned me so away from the performance that I could no longer look at it a manner that would enable me to enjoy those facets of it that I would otherwise have appreciated.

OK, it's late, but....

When you start watching the PBS biography of guitarist Les Paul, you can't turn it off, even as it approaches 11:30. And it came after a delightful hour of Dan Abrams' news show on MSNBC.

We won't talk about ABC tonight. Although its American Idol-like show about celebrity look-a-likes was very entertaining, it was offset by the reality show on American inventors, which deserves immediate deep-sixing.

Back to Les Paul.

Interesting, if Wrong

On my trip, I picked up and read "Betrayal at Pearl Harbor", written by two British (OK, one Australian) intelligence experts, one of whom was deeply involved in breaking Japanese codes in the Pacific during the second world war. Their premise is that not only did some Americans have knowledge of the Japanese strike on Pearl Harbor in time to minimize damage, but failed to recognize it, but that the British had broken the Japanese military codes (as opposed to the Japanese diplomatic codes, which had been broken by the Americans as well) but failed to tell the Americans. (This is a loose paraphrase; details may be not quite correct, but you get the gist)

The result was that the British could have told the Americans about the Japanese preparation for the attack.

OK, so the two countries did not work totally in concert (after all, the Americans were not in the war), and even within each country's multi-headed intelligence operations, cooperation was not always there (as it has not been in the US with respect to CIA, FBI, etc).

But the premise is that Churchill wanted Pearl Harbor to be attacked, because he knew that would bring America into a fight he would otherwise lose. This novel theory has, according to what I can see on the internet, not been accepted by others.

Sicko

After having watched Good Morning America yesterday and having been impressed by the segment they devoted to Joel Siegel, I decided to give ABC a chance and watch the network last night. I did, through prime time, 8 to 11.

Wife Swap: here two women trade houses and families for two weeks. During the first week, the guest wife must go by the family's rules. During the second week, the guest wife sets the family's rules. Dumb, you say. OK, but maybe entertaining? Imagine this. Wife 1 is a fitness freak and perfectionist, who wins fitness titles, gets up at 3:30 a.m. to exercise and fix high protein breakfasts. Her kids are all super athletes. Her house is perfect. Everyone does their chores. Nothing is out of place. Wife 2 is a dwarf, or to be PC in the show, a "little person". So is her husband. They are not athletes, they are very laid back, they have never exercised in their lives, their house is a bit of a chaotic mess. 'Nuff said.

Extreme Makeover: OK, so my ability to concentrate and my interest began to lag. This appears to be a show about fat people, who are given an extreme makeover and turn into people like wife 1 in Wife Swap. There were a bunch of teenagers, but I didn't follow that plot line (by now the sound on the tv was off); there was a woman from Washington (maybe her name was Heidi), who had lost 100 pounds, but still had the old skin flab, was very depressed, and looked at the start of the show that she hadn't slept in a couple of years and must have been allergic to soap or make up. By the end of the show, she looked like a cover girl, had had surgery to get rid of the fat, ate salads, wore a bathing suit, wore makeup, and had long styled hair. And, of yes, a new nose (her nose was bandaged through most of the show).

Super Nanny (or something like that): now the sound was off, and I probably only glanced at the screen for or five times over the hour. I saw the parents (she was 35 and looked normal; he was 47, and had long blond hair) and the 3 year old (Nathan?), who was shown primarily terrorizing all of the other shoppers in a supermarket. He was clearly more than anyone could be expected to handle, except for SUPERNANNY, who came like Mary Poppins sans umbrella in a taxicab to the rescue. I assume that, over the course of the hour, Nathan turned into a model young gentleman and lived happily ever after, his father had time to go the barber, and Super Nanny went on to her next conquest.

Unbelievable. Sicko.

But Some Things Were Terre Haute

1. Parts of Bristol, VA and the food at Jersey Lily's

2. Jackson and Lebanon, TN

3. Parts of Little Rock

4. The Mexican restaurant in Marshfield MO

5. All of the towns of western Indiana, and some of the towns in Pennsylvania

6. The traffic on I-68, where they narrowed the road (in two places) to one lane highways

7. Weavers Restaurant in Hancock MD.

8. Hancock MD.

Everthing was not Terre Haute

Let's talk about the good things.

1. Winchester VA, a terrific place to spend a few days.

2. The drive generally through the Shenandoah.

3. Roanoke and particularly the new museum, and the bagel place where I had breakfast.

4. The tour of Nashville, including the downtown tourist area and the Parthenon.

5. Blue Fish, an extraordinary restaurant in Memphis

6. The exhibit in the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis that goes through not only the night of the murder of Martin Luther King, but the entire investigation and trial, and looming questions.

7. Seeing my Memphis cousins and meeting my two new cousins (both by marriage) and liking them.

8. The Flying Fish Restaurant in Little Rock (funky and good) for lunch

9. Visiting aunt and cousins in Hot Springs, and looking at the bathhouse which is open as a Park Service Museum.

10. Route 7 heading north from Hot Springs

11. Seeing Branson (ok, maybe this wasn't good, but it wasn't bad, either)

12. Seeing family in St. Louis for a one-night stand

13. Going through Richmond, Indiana and St. Clairville Ohio

14. Looking at the possibilities of somewhat decrepit, but very appealing, Wheeling WV

15. Driving Highway 40 through Pennslvania until is crosses Interstate 68

16. Interstate 68, but also High German Road.

17. Getting home, not the worse for wear.

Joel Siegel (2 cents)

"Good Morning America" had a segment this morning honoring Joel Siegel, their movie critic who passed away recently after a long struggle with cancer. It was quite a nice tribute.

They talked a bit about Siegel's sense of fun, his ability to monitor young ABC staffers, and his general qualities as a human being.

He was a transplanted Californian, who loved NY, and thought that the only culture in LA could be found in its yogurt, and that the Berkeley football team would never win any games until they learned how to put cleats on sandals.

He loved movies and was a respected reviewer and critic, but he refused to review plays. Reviewing plays, he said, was too cruel. A bad review, and the actors are hurt, no one comes, the play closes, everyone is affected. A movie is different. Everyone (almost everyone) has already been paid, and the movie has already been made. Interesting, I thought.

Abu Ghraib, Step Aside

It might be worse to be sentenced to time in Terra Haute IN.

We stopped at a restaurant which claimed to have been in existence forever, to serve excellent Italian food (meat, chicken, seafood and pasta) and to have introduced pizza to the city. There were several Harley's parked outside, weird people in the bar, and a couple sitting outside, who told us that they weren't sure if they had food or not at the restaurant. A waitress came out and told us that their kitchen was being renovated ( a likely story) and that they had pizza and, at night, a dinner special.

so much for that, so across the street to the Irish pub, where the Greek salad was hardly Greek and the turkey ruben took forever "because he had to carve the turkey" [loaf].

What a dead place Terra Haute seems to be, even though it is the home of Indiana State (send me anywhere but there, please).

But what a county court house.

And that is what Indiana seems to excel in. Late 19th century county courthouses.

So Who Would Have Guessed It?

Roanoke is a treat. It is a very attractive city, with a most livable downtown - galleries, coffee shops, hippies, the same kind of street people you see in Seattle (looking like they've been at sea too long), etc. And they are building a new art museum that will look like a Frank Ghery creation (designed by a Los Angeles architect named Stout), and will become a tourist attraction. It is right downtown, next to the 365 day a year outside market. The museum is currently housed in a building which has a number of museums, as well as a theater (not a movie house), which is very nice in and of itself. I also went to the Virginia Transportation Museum, which has a lot of old N & W Railway cars, some automobiles (but not enough) and a great electric train setup. It is probably worth going for the electric trains, but not yet for anything else.

Driving south, the country is beautiful and the vibrancy of the towns continue to depend on the presence or absence of universities. But by and large, they are more pleasant than one would think. No reason that a week could not be spent in and around them, looking at history, architecture, scenery, and eating at a variety of restaurants.

In Bristol VA/TN tonight. Ate downtown at the very noisy State Street Bar and Grill. Considering my grouper, cole slaw and sweet potato fries cost $9.99, it was excellent. Not going to stick around Bristol tomorrow, too far to drive. But I was surprised to see that downtown is virtually all antique shops, and some very fancing ones at that.

Plaid Skirts and Topless Gowns

In Winchester, they were celebrating the opening of bagpipe camp. About 50 young men (looked about bar mitzvah age) were getting together at Shenandoah U. One mother, staying at my hotel, wanted to make sure that I knew that her "son did not always dress like that".

And in Roanoke it was time for the Miss Virginia pageant. Either they are crowning them much younger than before or they also had a Miss Pre-Teen Virginia warm up, because the two girls with their mother whom I saw at the Holiday Inn Express were about the same age as the bagpipe boys.

No Oceans on Eleven

The drive from Washington to Winchester on Route 50 is an attractive one, as you go through Middleburg (OK it was very hot, I had a small lunch and I did stop for a delicious strawberry ice cream cone), which has its own attractions and Upperville (now you see it, now you don't), and by an incredible number of large estates (and you know there are many more that you do not see).

For a city of about 25,000, Winchester offers a lot. I already posted about Little Me at Shenandoah University, where there is a lot of construction going on, including a new student center and a new business school. Historically, you can visit an office which George Washington, the surveyor, used, as well as headquarters of Generals Sheridan and Stonewall Jackson. There is a museum devoted to the Civil War in the 1840 court house (now replaced), perhaps the most attractive library I have seen (built in 1912 and restored most recently in 2000), and the Museum of the Shenandoah Valley, a new museum and landscaped grounds devoted to the history and culture of the region which apparently is well worth seeing. There are also a significant number of large, distinctive older houses, well maintained.

Driving south on Highway 11, the country is beautiful and you get near (not exactly to) Front Royal, where I had lunch, and which appears to have less interest to the traveler, although Shenandoah Caverns nearby must be worth exploring. Continuing the drive south on 11, you go through Woodstock, Mt. Jackson, Harrisonburg (home of James Madison U), Verona and Staunton (home of Woodrow Wilson, another town filled with historic interest). Then you pass close to Lynchburg (VMI and the Jerry Falwell world), and finally get to Roanoke, where I am now, a city of 250,000, where I have never been (and which I guess sitting here, I will never need to come again). I will use this morning to explore, before going about 150 more miles down the road to the Tennessee border.

Food in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia

I take it that there is no Shenandoah cuisine. If there was, why would I have wound up at the Texas Grill last night, and at Jersey Lilly's tonight? These two restaurants (which may or may not be chains) are very, very similar. The interiors are dark, rough wood, and they are steakhouses. Each time I got fish. Last night, salmon. Tonight, flounder. Each was more than adequate. Both had good coffee.

Well, here is my question?

Why did I think Texas in Winchester was a good dining experience, and Jersey in Roanoke the opposite?

Joyce Carol Oates is/and Little Me

Two things to report: listening to Joyce Carol Oates Tuesday night at Politics and Prose, and seeing Little Me on Wednesday on the campus of Shenandoah University in Winchester VA.

Oates has just published her 36th book, The Gravedigger's Daughter, a novel set in upstate New York and based (loosely) on the experience of her grandmother, whose German Jewish parents had come to this country in the 1890s. Oates knew her grandmother well, but until someone had decided to write a biography of Oates and discovered that her great grandparents were Jewish immigrants, Oates was totally unaware of this heritage.

Politics and Prose was very crowded for her appearance, and getting there twenty minutes early (unheard of for me) did not get me a seat. So I took a book and sat on the floor in a corner, where at least I could lean my back against something. I read about twenty pages, and could have kept going.

I listed to Oates' opening comments, but when she began to read, I went outside, coming back about twenty minutes later to hear the Q and A. I did not want to hear the excerpts Oates was reading. I wanted to be surprised.

How do you write? This is one of the questions that she was asked. She said that she knew that she wrote idiosyncratically. She does a lot of solitary walking and running, and while she is on the move, she is visualizing scenes. Not writing them, she says, visualizing them, almost like cinematography. When she gets back, she writes the scenes, as best as she can remember them, in longhand. Then she stores them and then, when she thinks she has enough scenes, she goes back to them, shuffles them around, and puts them together. She now types up a general plot outline composed of these scenes. Her writing embellishes this outline.

You published your first novel at 26? Yes, but I wrote my first novel at 6. Even before I could write. I just scribbled and scribbled.

Are you going to publish your memoirs? My memoirs? I am so uninteresting. I don't think I have led an interesting life. There really is nothing to read about. Even when I am being interviewed, I don't have much to say. I always wind up interviewing the interviewer. They have all led more interesting lives than I have.

What advice for a young writer who doesn't know how to start? First, talk to the older people in your family. The ones who came here, if they are still alive, or ones who knew them. That's the generation with the stories. And then, join a writers' group. That is the way you learn what part of your writing attracts others.

It was a very interesting hour.

Yesterday afternoon, I drove to Winchester on my way to Tennessee, and stayed at a Best Western (wi-fi in each room and free)across the street from Shenandoah University. They have a four play musical theater season each summer, with students from the conservatory program and what they call "guest artists", although these seem by and large to be faculty.

I saw that Little Me was playing and went across to the large theater's box office and bought a ticket. It was opening night.

I had never seen Little Me, and it was not high on my list of wants. But it is a lot of fun. As a play (Neil Simon)it is the ultimate in corn, and does not hang together particularly well. Based on a book by Patrick Dennis (he had something to do with Auntie Mame, too? Or am I mixing things up?), it tells a rags to riches story of Belle Schlumpfert (rhymes with comfort, in one of the songs), who is a combination Candide and Zelig. And Forest Gump. Always in the middle of things, always winding up worse for the wear, and in the end coming out ahead. Pure corn. A few songs you know ("I love you, as far as I am able" and "I've never been kissed, by a real live girl") and a bunch of novelty songs. The young Belle was excellent, and the male lead (who plays 5 different comic roles) was an absolute kick. (I was sitting next to a good friend of his, who was rolling on the floor)

You never know what you will find, I guess, in small town America.

Oh, yes, and "Little Me": could be the motto for Joyce Carol Oates, no?

If You Can't Stand the Heat (2 cents)

I go into Jyati Indian restaurant in Adams Morgan to pick up my carryout dinner. It's a hot,muggy Washington evening. One of the regular waiters says to me: This heat is awful, just awful.

Where are you from, I ask? Bangladesh, he says.

Then aren't you used to this?

Why do you think I left Bangladesh?

Another Life (25 cents)

I have just finished reading about another life. This one belongs (perhaps now it belonged, I am not sure) to Leo Saal, who wrote about himself in a very interesting book which no one has read called "Crossings". Published by a small Washington press in 1996, it tells the story of a young man, born in St. Petersburg in 1912, but whose mother was German and who was identified as German on his Russian internal passport, who was raised in middle class circumstances. His father was an officer in the Czar's army, but who preferred his side business of buying and restoring residential real estate in what became Leningrad.

After the revolution, which the family (and according to the book many middle class families) did not necessarily oppose, his father worked for the German Red Cross, which operated for several more years in the USSR. And during the 1920s, the time of Lenin's NEP (New Economic Policy), according to Saal, everything seemed pretty normal. The shops were open, the economy was strong, they even traveled to see his grandmother and other relatives in Germany. But in 1930, first his father and then Saal himself was arrested ("It was a high class crowd in this prison: intelligentsia, medium rank officials, and a few party members. Mostly 'fifty-eighters-, article 58 of the old criminal code with its fourteen paragraphs covered all political crimes"). And by the time the 1930s ended, Saal had been sent into the Gulag (for reasons unclear) working in various prison towns in Siberia, his father had died in prison, and his mother was exiled to a distant town ("In December 1934 Kirov was assassinated. He was Leningrad's popular Party Secretary and a potential rival to Stalin. As a reprisal, thousands of Leningrad residents were ordered to leave the city for faraway places in early 1935, among them were my mother and sister"). After his release from prison, when he was unable to live in Moscow or Leningrad (or several other cities), he led a hand-to-hand existence, marrying a Moscow medical student (with whom he spent surprisingly little time) and trying to keep in touch with his friends.

In 1939, after Germany's quick takeover of Poland, he was inducted into the army, his wife moved to Tblisi to escape potential fighting and, as he says, he did not see her again for 48 years. During the war, when it appeared that Germany was going to win, he switched sides (his first Crossing) and became a German (under German law he was automatically a German citizen) acting as an interpreter for the German army. When Germany lost the war, he remained a short time in West Germany (his mother was living there then as well), he married again (it was unclear that he was ever officially divorced), and eventually with his wife and children (probably sometime during the 1950s) came to the United States, where he finally wound up living in Chevy Chase. He was an artist; whether he did other work here, I do not know.

The book is interesting in so many ways. First, the issues of Jews and anti-Semitism play a small role in his memoirs. He knew that the Jews were discriminated against in Germany but, if you believe him, he knew nothing of the atrocities there or in Poland or the Ukraine when he was part of the German army. Second, he makes the NEP days in Russia look like capitalism without compromise ("In a short span of time, stores opened everywhere. On the Nevskiy Prospekt and Sadovaya Street the mile long arcades of Gostinyy and Apraksin Dvors again featured dozens of stores. Yeliseyev, the famous giant delicatessen store, offered an enless variety of foods; pyramids of Crimean fruit embellished many store windows. Lohr's bakeries and cafes sprangup everywhere."). Leningrad in 1930 was all culture ("Whenever there is a symphony concert and I am not at work, I got a ticket for Aleka and me. Bruno Walter, Klemperer, Zemlinsky, Knappertsbusch, Ansermet, Stiedry, Hindemith, Kuhlenkampf and others cam ein those years to conduct the Leningrad Symphony.") Third, his description of the Gulag and the various camps and work stations throughout Siberia ("Welcome to Bamlag!....the Baikal-Amur Correctional Labor Camp, situated between Lake Baikal and the Amur River, was organized in 1932 for the construction of a new railroad line to substitute for the Manchurian Railroad, now in the hands of the Japanese."), the type of work that was done, how much freedom one had, how sentences were arbitrarily extended or curtailed, etc. form a picture very different from what one might expect (I was not aware then of how lucky I was to have been arrested in 1933 and discharged in 1936. Had I been arrested after Kirov's murder, I would have served my full term until 1940 and most certainly would have received, without further trial, an extended term"). It reminded me a bit of the memoirs of Anna Lavrova, which I read earlier as it told the tale of her following her husband into the Gulag. And then of course, the ease with which he became Russian, German, American.

More than anything else, though, it tells the story of a life, very different from yours or mine, where somethings just seem very familiar. For example, his grandfather's nursery business in pre-war St. Petersburg ("He raised 50,000 roses. From Germany, Belgium, Holland and Japan he imported flowers in great numbers, including 70,000 hyacinths, 35,000 tulips, and 5,000 white lillies annually. At his peak, he employed a staff of 200"--how different from Russia under Communist rule). He visited friends of his wife ("Irina had arranged for us to stay with friends of her family, the Vereyskiys. ....He was a well known graphic artist and curator of prints at the Hermitage. His son Orest, also an artist, was a friend of Irina's. Orest's parents, although separated, maintained a common household which included their son and Mrs. Vereyskiy's new companion, a historian. Orest's mother was a well know writer of children's books.") It doesn't seem so different, does it? And I guess in some ways, it was not

Reality Check (12 cents)

There were a number of items in yesterday's Washington Examiner that gave me pause. I am setting them down here because I have learned that no one but me reads the Examiner. It is my own private paper.

First, there was an ad for a "lifetime of home remodeling solutions". I cannot even conceive of what that could include.

Second, there was an article about Vice Admiral Eric Olson becoming head of the U.S. Special Operations Command, as if this were the most important job in the world. Perhaps it is, but truth be told, I never head of the Special Operations Command, and nothing in this article gave me a hint of what it does. Is it that secret?

Third, "The Phantom of the Opera" is opening, for the umphteenth time, at the Kennedy Center but this time apparently with a new twist. Now the pastry chef of the Roof Top Restaurant (I didn't even know that they had any kind of chef up there) is serving a Phantom Bar - "a chocolate buttermilk cake covered in chocolate sauce and served with a hand-rolled marzipan rose, a white chocolate Phantom mask and an almond tuile music note".

Fourth, secrecy abounds, and not only with regard to the Special Operations Command. the Metro pension plan is so secret that not even its participants are allowed to learn anything about it. The Old Naval Hospital (again something I never heard of) at 921 Penn. Ave SE (oh, I do know the building) is to be renovated for community use, but no one in the community is to be allowed to participate in discussions of what those uses should be.

Fifth, the mayor of Gaithersburg does not like the budget, so will not sign it, and the law does not appear to permit expenditures by the city outside of what is permitted by its adopted budget.

Sixth, zoo officials cannot tell if the giant panda is pregnant and may not learn until a day or two before she gives birth, if then.

Seventh, Madina Ashimova made her first Washington appearance as the Snow Queen (sponsored by that famous vodka from Kazakhstan, Snow Queen. Huh?) and her dress caught on fire.

Eighth, Tony Bennett got a humanitarian award from Aid Darfur.

Ninth, the new manager of Metro said casually that the system needs "a couple billion dollars" over the next few years to upgrade.

Tenth, and this is reassuring, the headline says: "Fenty has staff training for disaster".

Eleventh, if you want to replace your gutters, would you call www.guttercover.com and get $400 off from the Britt family, or would you call www.mdguttershutter.com and get $500 off with no payments until April 2008 (provided, of course, you make an immediate deposit), or would you be satisfied with $100 off from www.harryhelmet.com, because they bring you every other product so you can see how much better there's is? I know, you would go back to www.fosterremodeling.com, because they have a lifetime of ideas.

Twelfth, in the "World News Section", it is all good: if you were a deadly rebel in Somalia, you can now get amnesty; if you spend your time worrying about the health of your brother Fidel, like Raul Castro does, you might have overlooked the fact that your wife just died; third, if you lived in Baghdad, would you wonder whose side Allah was on, with 78 killed and more than 200 wounded at the Khillani (does khill have anything to do with kill?) mosque; if you were Gazan...., oy.

Thirteenth, on the editorial page they will publish letters with fewer than 150 words. How about words with fewer than 150 letters?

Fourteenth, a woman sued TJ Maxx $550,000 because she slipped on a hanger. In an understatement, her lawyer said "I don't sue for this kind of money for nothing."

Fifteenth, chef Alex Powell of 701 Restaurant, believes in "simple food". The recipe for veal chops include the following simple ingredients: sugar, garlic, chipotle chile, ancho chile, port wine, lime juice, lemon juice, orange juice, fish sauce, shallots, butter, sherry vineger, veal stock, black pepper, tarragon, white asparagus, green asparagus, bacon, puff pastry, olive oil, roasting potatoes, grapeseed oil, argula and, of course, veal chops. Simple.

Sixteenth, if you have surprise guests for dinner, why not give them Gorton's crunchy breaded premium tilapia fillets? This is one of today's "delectable finds for foodies". Along with Gorton's (ready for this?) Potato crunch fish sticks. "almost a cross between potato chips and fish sticks". (Bet they'd go swell with the tilapia.)

Seventeenth, and on the gossip page, the big questions are: Is Katie Holmes pregnant again? Why did Keri Russell name her son River Deary? Why didn't Ashton Kutcher have a date at Teddy's on Saturday night? What were Jay-Z and Beyonce cavorting about on that private yacht off St. Tropez? And did you know that Nicole Kidman is now 40?

Eighteenth, add to the cheery coffee news: "Coffee may protect against blinding eyelid disorder". (Also keeps elephants out of your front yard)

And all that before I even got to the sports page.

Pilgrim Among the Shadows by Boris Pahor

An interesting memoir, written in the 1970s and translated from Slovenian into English in the 1990s, Pahor writes of his experience as a prisoner/medic in a series of concentration camps during World War II. A non-Jewish perspective. Very well written (a dense, poetic, meandering style), and as would be expected very depressing.

This is the only book by Pahor translated into English. On a website that I found, however, you were invited to read the plot outline of one of his Slovenian books (the plot outline being in English). That book was called Nekropola.

Well, Pilgrim Among the Shadows IS Nekropola. Weird.

A Little About Food

First, about lunch. Having decided that I was in a lunch rut (always getting my lunch at the same few places, even though the quality was consistent and the prices right), I decided to branch out a bit. Based on yesterday and today, I think this was a mistake.

Yesterday, I went to a little sandwich shop on L Street called Kozey's and ordered a tuna melt on rye. Tuna melts can be excellent; they can be awful. This one was an typical tuna melt. And typical is closer to awful than to excellent.

Today, I went to Soho, a funky place on the corner of P and 22nd, filled with people whose shorts and shirts don't match and who are having lunch with their laptops. The blackboard called the chicken salad "the best". I asked the woman behind the counter if this was true, and she said it was and the she made it. So what could I do? I ordered it on whole grain bread, but unlike the crusty whole grain bread you find at Au Bon Pain, this bread was like whole-grain Wonder bread, if there is such a thing. And the chicken salad was more like chicken salad paste, than chicken salad. I have wanted to try to Soho, because it is around the corner from a book store I frequent, and I can sit there and look through a book (impervious to the electronics surrounding me). But I won't go there again very soon.

As to brunch, we went to Bistrot Au Coin, which is not on a corner and is on Connecticut Avenue near Dupont Circle. It should be terrific, but something is not quite right. It is not quite comfortable, although it looks like it would be. It looks like it could be a little cleaner (of course we walked out of Nathan's in Georgetown a few weeks ago, because it looked like it had not been dusted for a year or two). But the scrambled eggs were first class, the french fries very good, the small salad tasty, the baguettes fresh and crusty, and the expresso good. But there is something about the place not quite right.

As to fancy dinner, on the other hand, I think that Arcadiana (Massachusetts Ave) is one of the most comfortable restaurants imaginable. The food was also very good, although not cheap. Edie had a delicious trout, served on some sort of green vegetable, and I had red fish served on a jambalaya risotto. Both were excellent. Mine was interesting because the red fish by itself was good, and the risotto by itself was good, but when you put them together they excelled. Hannah had veal medallions, which she also said were excellent.

As to cheaper dinner, we went to Colonel Brooks, where Edie's Rockfish reuben, and my salmon caesar salad were first class. Our friend Ray had a too-spicy pasta dish. And the service was capital A abysmal.

And that's a little about food.

Latest news from Sprint (22 cents)

The sign on the Sprint Cell Phone store says: "Sorry, no technical service today due to a systems failure".

Makes you think.

James Grover McDonald

The book "Advocate for the Doomed" contains the diary of James Grover McDonald from the years 1932 to 1935. It is over 800 pages long. There will be several additional volumes published over the next several years. If I had all the time in the world, I would love to read through it. But I don't, and that is probably why this book will not be a best seller.

McDonald was the United States' first ambassador to Israel. Before that, he was the League of Nations Commissioner for Refugees. And before that he headed the Foreign Policy Association, advocating an active foreign policy in opposition to the American isolationists.

The book was just published. It contains McDonald's notes about meetings with Hitler, Roosevelt, the future Pius XII and many others. It contains new information, because McDonald believed, from 1933 on, that Hitler and the Nazis were out to destroy the Jews. Well before there were death camps. And (surprise!), no one would believe him. This too will pass, they seemed to think.

McDonald was a diarist, but not a writer. So he went to Thomas Sugrue, a writer but not a diarist, to ghost write his memoirs. Sugrue had already worked with McDonald on a book called Mission to Israel, which dealt with the first years of the Jewish state. So he was a natural. But the book was never written (for one thing, Sugrue died young), and Sugrue's daughter found amongst her father's things, in a box in her basement, fragments of the diary. They looked important to her and, not knowing what else to do with them, she took them to the Holocaust museum. The diary fragments, I believe, dealt with meetings with Cardinal Pacelli, the future pope. The historians at the museum wanted to find other fragments of the diary. They went to Columbia U., where the McDonald papers were kept. No luck. They then located McDonald's daughter, a lecturer at George Mason University in Fairfax, who had 10,000 diary pages at her house, and who had tried unsuccessfully earlier to get publishers interested in them.

Yesterday, at the Holocaust Museum, the editor of the publications, Prof. Richard Breitman of American University, Barbara McDonald Stewart, the daughter, and a museum archivist and a museum historian, all of whom had worked on the publication, discussed the book.

McDonald was prescient. He early saw Hitler's designs. He saw that Jewish emigration from Germany was not the goal. It would only be a step in an attempt to wipe the world clean of Jews, a most corrosive influence on society. The world would be in favor of this, was the feeling of Der Fuhrer. "We'll show the world how to get rid of the Jews", Hitler told McDonald in 1933. (McDonald's mother was German, he spoke German, had German friends, had written favorably about Germany in his younger years, and was generally viewed as pro-German in 1933). McDonald was aghast.

Like Kurt Gerstein, he wanted to get the church active in stopping the anti-Semitic movement throughout much of Europe. Cardinal Pacelli would hear nothing of it. He had just negotiated a Concordat between Berlin and Rome. In return for avoiding political activity, the church would be allowed to function and hold on to its assets. This was all important to the Vatican. And McDonald knew this in 1933.

He liked Roosevelt, and especially liked Eleanor Roosevelt. His relationship with FDR apparently soured as time went to (but in subsequent volumes, not here) as he felt Roosevelt was acting too often from political expediency, rather than a sense of moral duty or responsibility.

Again like Gerstein, McDonald was a failure. His warnings were not heeded. His position as Ambassador to Israel (by now he had become, it appears, a full fledged Zionist supporter) was the high point of his life. After he retired from that position, he spent years pushing the sale of Israel bonds.

Whether the future volumes will be as interesting as this one, I don't know. Should I have shelled out the $35? The book would have been signed by the four speakers/editors. Maybe. But I didn't.

Even Nazis Had Children (12 cents)

Intuitively, I probably always knew this. It hit home, though, in 1962, when I visited my college roommate's high school exchange student's family in Bad Homburg Germany and saw the pictures of the relatives in SS uniforms on the wall. And, when I was still young, when I met other of my German contemporaries.

When I saw "Either/Or" at Theater J, I thought about the children of Kurt Gerstein, the Nazi hero/anti-hero of the play, and when I wrote a short play to be performed at the 5 x 5 after "Either/Or" closed, I chose to write about Gerstein's daughter, and about her schoolmates' reactions when she told them what her father had done during the war.

Coincidentally, at the McFriends store in Rockville, I saw a copy of a book called "Hitler's Children" by Gerald Posner, and brought it home. I finished it this morning.

The book was written in the mid-1980s, when the children ranged in age from mid-40s to mid-60s. Today, the children of Nazi leaders, to the extent they are still alive, would be 65+ for the most part.

Not surprisingly, the views of the children towards their parents varied greatly. And many such children refused to speak to the author. The book was interesting in that it showed how the children went on with their lives (generally relatively successfully), and how very few of those who spoke with the author seemed to harbor Nazi-like feelings, although many remained close with their parents (some of their parents had been hanged as war criminals after the war).

What was most interesting, though, were two things: one, that many of these children did have family members (generally older generation) who were still Nazis at heart, and two, that until the interviewees were in their teens, they had no idea about the Nazi atrocities, or about how the Jews were singled out and dealt with. To me this was a little surprising, since amongst the older generation ti was common knowledge, and there was no secrets from the children that there had been a war, and that Germany had lost and suffered great destruction.

Were the children kidding when they said that they did not know about the Jews until they were 13, or 15 or 18? Did the Germans of the previously generation lie when they said that they did not know the Jews were being killed. A lot of people quoted in this book found themselves surprised and revolted in the 1960s. For some, this knowledge cemented their negative feelings towards their parents. But are they being honest? Are they deluding us? Are they deluding themselves? Or is it easy not to see what is right before your eyes?

Our New Prius (3 cents)

1. It is very comfortable.

2. On a trip to NYC, it got slightly over 50 miles per gallon.

3. It takes regular gas.

4. There appears to be more hidden trunk space than there appears to be.

5. It is easy to drive, and has a good feel.

6. It has bluetooth telephone capability giving hands free speaking and call reception.

7. It has a back up camera which is sort of cool.

8. It is keyless, which is sort of cool.

But

8. The radio controls (most of them) and the heat/airconditioning controls (all of them) are electronic on a screen and you can't see them both at one time. You have to flip screen to screen. What happens if your screen goes out?

9. The bluetooth connection has to be turned on each time you drive (if you want the phone to work)

10. There is no sky light

11. The seat adjustments are manual.

12. There is a weird split to the back window.

On a scale of 1 to 10, I would give it a 9. At least.

Where do squirrels sleep? (1 cent)

and when??

Is there no news that's fit to print?

Looking at today's New York Times front page, I find five features articles, and no news articles. The features articles are each of them interesting, but are they news, and particularly front page news?

1. "Grass Roots Roared, and an Immigration Bill Fell", featuring a story about conservative internet-savvy voters who lobbied against the immigration bill.

2. "Corporate Korea Corks the Bottle as Women Rise", featuring a story about the strains on after-work drinking parties in South Korea, becuase of the presence of more women in the workplace.

3. "Hispanic Voters Gain New Clout with Democrats", about Spanish language voting campaigns.

4. "Microsoft Finds Legal Defender in Justice Department", about how the Antitrust Division is no longer accusing Microsoft of violations, and is actually defending Microsoft against claims by others.

5. "Chinese Leave Guantanamo for Albanian Limbo" about how five Uighurs from China, whom China refuses to repatriate, are confined to a camp in Albania until they learn to speak Albanian.

Top left of the masthead: "All the News That's Fit to Print".

God Must Be Happy (1 cent)

I spent yesterday afternoon at the Holocaust Memorial Museum attending a two hour session on the implications of the recent discovery in Vienna of 800 boxes of Jewish community records from the Nazi years. For many reasons, it was a fascinating afternoon.

After the session ended, I drove home and we decided to go out for dinner. We have a gift card from Filomena, a restaurant in Georgetown that we had never used, and where we had never been. So, very unusual for us, we drove to Georgetown for dinner. We got to Filomena at about 6:45 and were told that the next available table would be at about 8:30. We decided to go elsewhere.

Filmena is on Wisconsin Avenue, south of M Street. For no particular reason, we walked up to M Street and, again, for no reason turned left and walked west. We wandered a while (restaurants that used to be there are now mostly furniture stores) and saw hidden in a window that boarded a passageway that went to a set of steps that went down to a courtyard a small sign calling attention to a restaurant called "Leopold's", and another sign that said that it had won a Washingtonian Magazine award in 2006. We had never heard of Leopold's.

We walked down the steps, found ourselves in a spacious courtyard with outside tables, and saw Leopold's Kafe, a very contemporary looking place (much glass, much plastic, no wood) that looked exactly that it had stepped out of contemporary Vienna (having seen places last year that looked precisely like that). Then we looked at the menu, which included Austrian wines, schnitzels, and sausages, as well as more universally continental dishes.

Leopold is the name of one of Vienna's new museums in what is now known as the Museum Quarter, and there were Leopold posters on the interior walls.

So, what chance would there be to go from spending an afternoon dealing with Vienna to a restaurant that looked like it was Vienna? This is too much of a coincidence, so I conclude that it was at God's direction.

God must be happy. For once (and maybe only for once), his plan worked out just as he wanted it to. I am happy to have played a part.

Auf wiedersehen.

Presidential Courage

So, Michael Beschloss' book on presidential courage seems to be getting panned all over. Based on what I have seen about the book, and on his presentation several weeks ago and Politics and Prose, that is not surprising.

He picked a number of examples of various presidential accomplishments, defined them as obvious examples of presidential courage (all were not) and stated them to be the best examples possible (they were not).

At any rate, in contemporary terms, look at George Bush (if you dare). You can't deny it: invading Iraq was an example of presidential courage. It might have also been an example of presidential stupidity or presidential deception, but clearly it involved courage.

So, we have a courageous president, right? Well, not so fast.

Our president does not appear to have the courage to pardon Scooter Libby, a man who clearly does not deserve to hang out and dry while his superiors go free.

For shame.

40th Anniversary

Yesterday marked the 40th anniversary of Day 1 of the Six Day War. We went to a commemoration held at American University's Kay Spiritual Center, but not sponsored by the university. I am embarrassed to say that I don't know the names of all of the panelists, but of the four, two were Aaron David Miller and Yuval Rabin, Yitzhak's son. The other two were Arabs who live in the Washington area. All are involved in peace, bridge building activities. None are considered 'radical'.

I was surprised at the size of the audience. There must have been 200 people there. We only knew or recognized a handful. Many were activists with various peace organizations. There seemed to be many more Jews than Arabs (not surprisingly for any number of reasons).

The question is where to go from here. Or, putting it maybe a bit better, is there any where to from here. There was clearly a lot of sorrow and frustration expressed by the panelists, but each still had a smidgeon of optimism. None could understand where that remain optimism comes from. All agreed that on so many issues the sides were so very far apart.

The support was still for the two state solution. Which was deemed the right thing to support, but only because there was nothing else to support.

I return to my own thoughts. I do not think that the two state solution is possible. I think it is a chimera. You cannot name a state today that is divided in this manner; Pakistan failed and split, for example. And particulary you cannot think of a successful such state which would be separated by an 'enemy', and an enemy with much more power.

So, I repeat what I have said before.

Look at Jordan. A successful country to be sure, but a parliamentary monarchy under a Hashemite (ethnic Saudi) king, when the population itself is virtually all Palestinian or Bedouin (the majority being Palestinian). At some point, the kingdom will fail, and a form of democracy will take root, with Palestinian interests controlling the country. At that time, I believe that pressure would build for a merger of the West Bank into Jordan (where it was before 1967). I think that there are many reasons for this, and I think a viable country would remain.

As to Gaza, immediate viability is impossible, but long term viability, as a separate state unto itself, is quite possible. Look not only at what Singapore has done. Look closer to home (Gaza being home for this exercise). The emirate have done quite well for themselves.

Gaza has the port, it has the work force, and it has the beaches. Imagine goods coming from North African into Gaza, being transported across Israel into an augmented Jordan. The pieces are there for an economically interdependent region.

What about Hamas? As one of the Arab speakers said last evening, democracy is a great thing, but to implement it when Hamas is powerful would be a disaster. As we can see from the current Palestinian experience.

Perhaps this true, but perhaps Hamas would have bigger fish to fry if it had a country to develop than focusing on its enemy, Israel.

If the Arab focus could be on internal development. If the occupation could end. If the Israelis could stay together without a common enemy. If the Palestinians could do the same........

Both sides seem to need each other as focal points for internal feels of solidarity and community. That has to change. And a large number of West Bank settlers will have to be relocated, most likely. But the world is filled with people who move, and if it is done in the context of a mutually secured agreement for security, who knows what the limits might be.

In the meantime, I go back to what Tom Segev said when we heard him last month. He said that the citizens of the region seem to have give up today on large goals with prospects of immediacy, and instead being content to simply manage and control the conflict, so it does not break out too often.

My guess is that Segev is correct, but I think this time of controlled tension can be used to develop the possibility of two Palestinian states, not one, although this is clearly contrary to majoritarian thinking today.

A nice noon time concert (22 cents)

sometimes, I am not certain about the accoustics at the Church of the Epiphany, and today was one of those times. Betsy Hinkle's violin did not sound quite rich enough. But her playing was otherwise impeccable and the accompaniment of Jad C. Bernardo was first class. The main item on the program was Cesar Frank's Sonata in A for Piano and Violin, which is one of my favorites, and I had not heard it for a long time. They ended with two selections from Porgy and Bess, much less demanding, and very enjoyable. About 75 people in attendance by my count. The weather was beautiful outside, so the dozen or so homeless men who usually sit in the back of the church were not there.

A few quick thoughts

1. Neisha Thai Restaurant last night was very good.

2. Went to a lecture this morning on the role of women in Caesaria in the 4, 5, and 6th centuries. I found it a little disappointing because the lecturer, Kenneth Holsum, who has led a major dig in Caesaria and teaches at U. Md., is a very dry speaker, and he went on for over an hour although he did not have that much to say on the subject. He started by saying that nothing has been published on women in Byzantine Caesaria; by the time he was finished, I knew why. There is surprisingly little to say, particularly if you want to divide the roles played by Christian, Jewish and Samaritan women. Holsum would simply extrapolate and guess a little too much. Not that it was a waste of time, and not that nothing of interest was said, but for a lecture on this particular subject, I don't think he got very far.

3. Last month, as you may recall, I read Raphael Patai's "The Seed of Abraham". Why is it that, today, I could not tell you one thing in it?

4. How are they allowing the Nats/Padres game to continue through this rain? It wouldn't be such a bad call, if the Nats were winning, but they are not.

The Week that Was (16 cents)

This was actually a fairly eventful week, but the lack of air conditioning in my home office has hampered by computer usage and blogging. Why the air conditioning went out, we don't know. Our regular air conditioning company came out and said that the air conditioner seemed OK, but that it was getting any electricity. We need an electrician. The electrician is coming on Tuesday, so here (on a Saturday) I am, without air conditioning in the room in which I do most of my homework.

Last Saturday, we picked up our new car, a silver Toyota Prius. Our first Toyota; our first hybrid. It is the 'greenest' car on the American roads, and according to this morning's paper, Toyota sold three times as many Priuses in May 07, as they did in May 06. It drives very comfortably and, in fact, is a relaxing car to drive. You don't have the sensation that you should be revving the engine up continually (in fact you can't), and you try (even subconsciously) to over accelerate. It is odd, in that the car has no key (you have a block shaped key-like thing that you can keep in your pocket), no starter (you push a button that says 'power'), and no gear shift (just a small vestigial toggle that protrudes about 2" from the dashboard). It also is low on trunk space (it is a hatchback), unless you pull down the back seat, but then your storage space, although more than ample, becomes visible.

We tried out the car on Saturday in Loudoun County at the Hunt and Stable Show, and then we drove it to New York, leaving our house Tuesday during rush hour and returning by about 11 p.m. Wednesday night. We went to see the Barcelona exhibit at the Met, closing this weekend), which proved very worthwhile, and a good primer for our August trip. We stayed on the way up at a more than satisfactory Best Western in Burlington NJ, and ate at a Ruby Tuesday's (or was it a Friday's or was it an Applebees?) across the parking lot, where the tilapia turned out to be better than the salmon.

We drove into the city (HollandTunnel was not fun) and followed the sign to the Met and the Met parking lot, where for only $26, we could park for five hours. The garage is under the museum, something that seems vaguely dangerous, although they do check your trunk (or what passed for our trunk) upon entry.

The Barcelona exhibit deals with the period from 1881 (when a newly textile-prosperous city decided to become a center of culture and art) until 1939 (when newly installed General Franco decided the opposite), and had sterling examples of art, jewelry, crafts, furniture, architectural models and more. We were lucky enough to catch a tour guided by one of the three curators of the show. We hope to see many of the exhibited items back in Spain in August.

Coming back (we left the museum about 4) and spent almost 2 hours trying to get through the Lincoln Tunnel, and onto the NJ Turnpike.
The drive back was quick, except that we had a two hour stop in Mt. Holly, an unknown (to us) old town, with buildings going back to the early 18th century. Everything was closed when we got there, and we ate at the Robin's Nest, an upscale restaurant where the highlight was the 3-soup appetizer: cold strawberry, cream of spinich and Md. crab.

The car did very well, and averaged the promised 50 miles per gallon (and it takes regular gas at that).

Since our return Wednesday night, I went to the National Museum for Women in the Arts to see the exhibit of paintings by women from the Italian renaissance, which was very enjoyable. Particularly the portraits (there were fewer still lifes, religious subjects, or historical subjects), some of which were up there with the best of the portraits of the time. I also saw Harry Benton's photographs at the National Portrait Gallery, which spanned a 50 year period of time from the 1950s until today. Benton is a Scottish photographer, who has worked for a number of periodicals and newspapers. While I do not think that all of the photos on display were of display quality, many clearlly were. Perhaps I will get time to talk about them later.

Finally, after a dinner at Bua Thai on Thursday, we saw again Either/Or at Theater J, which seems to have matured in the weeks it has been performed, and is now an excellent show, making it all the sadder that it has to close this weekend, and that the reviews were based on the first few performances. The show was good then (and the reviews positive), but seems to have improved dramatically (no pun intended). I guess this happens with some shows, particularly when they are premieres and were undergoing continual changes until just before opening night. The talkback with cast and director was also interesting.

What's in a Title?

I just finished reading Shirley Christian's very interesting book, "Before Lewis and Clark". Its subtitle is "the Story of the Chouteaus, the French dynasty that ruled America's frontier". It is the story of the founding and first 75 years or so of St. Louis.

It was published in 2004 which was the 200th anniversary of the Louisiana Purchase (which brought St. Louis to the U.S.) and the start of the Lewis and Clark voyage to the northwest. Clearly, Farrar, Straus and Giroux thought they could capitalize on all of the interest in that expedition, by chosing a name for the book that would make you think that it was about the years before 1804.

Au contraire, as they used to say in French St. Louis. The subtitle is much more in keeping with the text. The Lewis and Clark expedition is discussed in the first third of the book.

Putting this mistitle aside, and not using this blog entry to retell the story of the founding of St. Louis, the following facets of the book were most interesting. First, the degree in which fur trapping was THE reason for the location of St. Louis, and the mainstay of its early economy. Second, how fur trapping worked, through bargaining with individual groups of Native Americans, and through sole trappers who roamed parts unknown. Third, the difficulties in getting the furs to market, and particularly the problems with transportation and the dangers of long distance travel. Fourth, the degree to which St. Louis really was a French city, with the senior Chouteaus, including those who lived well into the 1800s, never learning English. Fourth, the complex relationships between the trappers, the settlers and the Indians, and the problems between one Indian tribe and another, and how all of this impacted on, among other things, the economy of St. Louis. Fifth, the ease with which some of the Chouteaus got along with many of the Indians, including learning the languages. Sixth, the attitudes towards Indians of while St. Louisans, and their attitudes towards blacks and slavery. Seventh, not only the sexual alliances between Indians and whites, but the length and depths of some of these relationships. Seventh, the numbers of children born to each family, and the numbers of children who died, as well as the prevelance generally of what would today be considered very early death. Finally, how difficult travel was and how long it took to get from one place to another.

On this last point, in the early years going from St. Louis to, say, Washington, meant a boat down the Mississippi to New Orleans, and boat from New Orleans to Baltimore, and a coach from Baltimore to Washington.

Even as late as the 1850s, when I would have thought that transportation had been much improved, such a journey could prove an adventure. Although not taking as long as the route I just described, the five day trip from St. Louis to Washington went like this:

"Leaving St. Louis, he traveled up the Mississippi to Galena, then spent the night in a stage coach to arrive at Rockford the next day at 2 p.m. He got a train to Chicago, arriving safely despite the fact that the car jumped the tracks while taking a curve too fast. He took the night train to Detroit, the " the fast steamer May Flower for Buffalo......next morning we were in Buffalo and it was my [Henry A. Chouteau, age 20] intention to stop a day and go to the Falls, but as it was raining I went straight for the cars for Albany. This train goes at the rate of thirty miles an hour....."

After an overnight stop at a hotel in Albay, he took a steamer down the Hudson, getting to New York City at 5 the next afternoon..

Curses, foaled again

So, today we saw three foals. One was born yesterday. All three nursing. We also saw a 20 year old arthritic horse (former race horse, Mountain John), swim three laps around a pool. And we saw a very large number of alpacas, ranging from black to white, with all shades of tan, brown and grays.

Where were we? In Upperville, of course, at the annual hunt show. We did not go to see the former Kentucky Derby winner, or Paul Mellon's barn, or the other stables that were open for inspection.

But it was all very interesting, and western Loudoun and eastern Fauquier Counties are quite beautiful.

Oh, yes, three cheers for the beef burritos with red sauce at Anita's in Chantilly. (actually, I didn't eat the burrito)

Why Am I Always Changing Light Bulbs? (one cent)

Because I have 115 of them in my house. Homebuyers, beware.

Book of the Day (12 cents)

Perhaps I should give you all an idea of the books that I buy for under $4 several times a week.

Today's is a coffee table sized book entitled "From Semaphore to Satellite", and it was published in 1965 to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the International Telecommunications Union, in Geneva. It was signed by Gerald Gross, the Secretary-General of the Union, and inscribed to Francis de Wolf, whom Gross says is the guy who got him to Geneva in the first place. There is also a brief letter from Gross to de Wolf, or ITU stationery. On ABEbooks, there is one signed copy of this book for sale for about $70.

If you are interested in the history and international spread of the telegraph (first suggested by Robert Hooke in 1726), and want to see a lot of black and white historic photos, this may just be the book for you. Gross was the Secretary General from 1960 - 1965 and is the only American ever to hold this position.

The ITU is of course still going strong, having expanded its scope beyond the telegraph. It is now a part of the United Nations.

Initial Reactions (ten cents)

Some time ago, I wrote a post about the decision of the Washington Post not to use the term "PG County" anymore, and always to refer to it by its full name. My posting was about the inconsistency in the use and acceptability of initials or abbreviations in place names (e.g., Phillly and Indy OK, Minnie or Millie not). Since that time, I have spoken to a number of residents of Prince George's County, most of whom call it PG, and think that the disputation played out in the Post was nonsense.

Now comes that terrific ad for St. Louis ribs that I see on television (actually, the ad could be better because I have no idea what brand or chain they are advertising, as I think about it), where the one young man says "These are just like they eat in St. Louie" and his companion says "People who live in St. Louis do not call it St. Louie", to which the other answers: "Yes, they doooooooo".

All of this came to mind again this morning as I was reading through the Washington Examiner which had a brief story about Deborah Palfrey, the now notorious and/or celebrated (take your pick) D.C. Madam. She says that she would rather be called the Washington Madam, and not the D.C. Madam. When asked why, she responded "it's a little classier". One more country heard from.

The best quote in the article came from her lawyer, the man with the name that sounds like a school for sick people: Montgomery Blair Sibley. When Palfrey announced that she was a supporter of Hillary Clinton, she added that she "hated" Bush. Sibley's reaction: "there goes your chance for a pardon".

Ciechanowski (11 cents)

Jan ciechanowski was the Polish ambassador to the United States during World War II, and wrote a book published in 1947 called "Defeat in Victory". I did not read the entire book, but only the first and last few chapters. The implication was clear. At the start of the war, Roosevelt was very supportive of the Polish government in exile. At the end of the war, there was the Yalta conference where a very sick Roosevelt failed to stand up to Stalin with regard to elected governments in Eastern Europe. The Soviets appoint a government beholden to the USSR and no one kicks and screams. Defeat in victory.

I Wish I Liked It (11 cents)

The concert at Epiphany Church today was by a soprano, a flute and a piano. Perhaps not my favorite combination, and there was nothing in the program that particularly attracted me. Ein Lied von Bach, and works of Philippe Gaubert, Roger Quilter, Edouard Lippe and Sir Henry R. Bishop (talk about names that didn't ring a bell). I debated whether I should just take advantage of the warm weather, but decided to enter the church, find a nice seat, and take out the book of short stories by Albert Moravia that I have been reading at the Tuesday concerts.

I thought that this was one of the weaker concerts. I was not attracted to the solists voice, I thought that the floutist was not up to professional standards. The piano was ok. On a number of flute/soprano pieces, I thought more practice might have helped. I had a hard time believing they were playing the same piece for the most part.

But....

no one left the concert, and

there was quite a bit of applause.

So I wish I liked it, because it looked like everyone else did.

Odd Exhibit at the Phillips Collection (24 cents)

Called "Moving Pictures: American Art and Early Film", it contains numerous video screens showing short films from about 1895-1905, and next to them pieces of art which depict similar scenes. For example, an early movie taken showing Niagara Falls from up close (one of the better films, I thought), next to some paintings from about the same time of Niagara Falls. Most of the films were not that interesting. Yes, they were very early films, but....... And the art work got lost, I thought, because they were no more than there to support the video screens.

I did like the film of Niagara Falls (and it was up close), and a liked even more perhaps a short film of a storm at sea taken from the deck of a ship, with the waves looking very forboding. I also liked the New York street scenes. Even though you know it was so, it seems strange to see all of these large brick and concrete buildings, with no motor vehicles, only horse drawn buggies and carriages, and a lot of pedestrians. And, what was most noticeable about the overdressed pedestrians (all with hats of course)? They weren't fat. None of them.

Worth seeing? Well, anything is worth seeing, I guess. And it is interesting to see that some of the same things that the movie makers were focusing on (this is before films began to show stories and plot lines) were the same things that painters were painting. Worth seeing twice? Not at all.

The Trouble With Studying History (1 cent)

From Lee Meriwether's "My Yesteryears", writing about the death of his ancestor, Meriwether Lewis. Lewis died in 1809, only a few years after the end of the Lewis and Clark exploration of the northwest. He writes:

"In October, 1809, Lewis died either by his own hand or by that of a murderer. The suicide theory rests upon a letter written by Jefferson, but facts discovered later point plainly to murder. Lewis was on his way with important papers for Jefferson. He planned to go by boat down the Mississippi to New Orleans an thence by sea to Baltimore, but at Memphis were alarming rumors of war with England. Actually war did not come until 1812, but even as early as 1809 impressment of Americans into the British navy made many men believe war was imminent.....Several days out from Memphis, Lewis and a friend named Neeley, and a Negro servant who accompanied him, plunged into the wilderness....The first cabin he found belonged to a man named Grinder. Lewis stopped there for the night, and next morning he was found dead in bed, a bullet hole through his head. Grinder was gone, and with him Lewis' watch, money and papers. Many months later Grinder was caught in North Carolina, brought back to Tennessee and tried for murder; he had Lewis' papers; he, formerly almost a pauper, had bought land and slaves. He could not explain his sudden riches; the circumstantial evidence that he had killed and robbed Lewis was strong. but no one had witnessed the deed, and Mrs. Grinder swore Lewis had killed himself. And so the jury's verdict was "Not Guilty".

"In those days, weeks, even months were required for news from the wilderness to reach Washington. Long before he knew, if he ever knew about Grinder's disapearing with Lewis' money and papers, Jefferson had received Mrs. Grinder's suicide story, and had written the letter which has come down to our own day, stating that Meriwether Lewis died a suicide. Had Jefferson known all the facts, he would not have written that letter."

This book was written in 1942.

From a book written over sixty years later, "Before Lewis and Clark" by Shirley Christian:

"A few days before Pierre started down the Mississippi, Meriwether Lewis had set out from St. Louis to go down the Mississippi and get a ship for Washington, intending to defend himself with regard to his use of government moneys......Shortly before his departure, Lewis spent a day with William Clark.....Clark wrote his brother Jonathan that......his friend was in a great deal of distress, 'ruined' by the government's decision to protest some of his expenditures....by the time Meriwether Lewis had sailed from St. Louis, he was in a deranged state, twice trying to kill himself, according to the boat crew. At Chickawaw Bluffs, the future Memphis, the fort commander, Captain Gilbert Russell, put him under a suicide watch.......But Lewis passed an anguished evening, and in the early morning hours of October 11 he took out his pistols and shot himself, first with one, then the other. When the owner of the house heard the shots, she summoned the two servants, but they arrived too late to save Lewis. Death came shortly after daybreak."

Nothing about Grinder, or a murder trial.

Which, if either, story is correct?

A Surprising Gap in my Education (29 cents)

I went to a noontime slide lecture, held at the Renwick Museum, yesterday. The topic was the Bauhaus Workshops, and the presentation was given by by Ursula Ilse-Neuman. I am not sure who she is because I missed the introduction, but she is a curator somewhere, I believe, and a scholar. She speaks with a slight German accent, but with the speed of a French bullet train. If you blink, she has left you in the dust.

This made her a little hard to follow, as did the fact that she had a lot to say within her allotted 45 minutes of time. I believe that her speed exhausted many in the audience of about 100. There were zero questions at the end, perhaps because of a desire for a little space and some fresh air.

But the presentation was very informative and quite well organized.

Here is where my education failed me. I guess I knew nothing about Bauhaus. I knew it was a German movement, I knew it was a between the wars movement. I knew it involved Walter Gropius and Mies van der Rohe. I know a Bauhaus inspired building when I see it (usually). And I thought I knew that Bauhaus was a modernistic, but pared down industrial inspired architectual movmement.

I had no idea that the Bauhaus was a school that lasted for fourteen years (first in Weimar, then in Dessau and finally in Berlin), until Hitler shut it down (with great publiciity) in 1934, that it involved an extraordinary number of well known twentieth century artists (as teachers or instructors, as students, or as both), or that it was reconstituted in Chicago (where it was renamed and now forms part of the Illinois Institute of Techonology, and inspired Black Mountain College in the Piedmont region of North Carolina (also home to an array of famous twenty century artists) which closed in 1957, and also had influence over artistic teaching in Northern California.

I now know that, in addition to architecture (which hardly was mentioned yesterday), Bauhaus involved painting, fabrics and weaving, pottery, metal working and jewelry, furniture, and sculpture. That it was a holistic program, designed to blend the working of craftsmen with the working of artists, and on an equal footing (it was in a sense a socialist, or at least social democratic movement), and that the major item of contention within the movement itself was how much focus should be put on industrial design (i.e., items that can be manufactured), rather than on individualistic pieces of art. It spread in both directions. For example, in the U.S.A., Chicago was more industrially oriented (and techologically), while Black Mountain seemed to be more individualistic.

Josef and Anni Albers, Marcel Breuer, Wassily Kandinsky, Paul Klee, Andreas Feininger all taught at Bauhaus. Josef Albers was a student, as was (at Black Mountain) both deKoonings, Cy Twombly, Robert Rauschenberg, Jacob Lawrence, Franz Kline and others.

Oh, yes, one more rather important point. The Bauhaus style inspired some extraordinary works in all of the categories mentioned above, much of which is now quite familiar. Only when you see it context with the Bauhaus philosophy, however, does it all (to my untrained) eye, all fit together in surprising ways.

A bit too early, perhaps, but funny

The cartoon this morning in the Washington Examiner. Jerry Falwell, who died yesterday, is standing before (presumably) St. Peter, who says to him: Here we take people regardless of race, gender or sexual preference. Fallwell has a terrified look on his face and responds: oh my, do you mean I'm in hell?

One Movie, Three Plays and a Good Meal (5 cents)

One of the weirdest movies I have seen is, in English, "One Hand Can't Clap", a Czech film shown at the Avalon. What is it about? Is it about the suave vegetarian Prague restaurater who, in the cellar of his restaurant has another, even fancier restaurant, where he serves exotic protected species? Or his wife, who is against anything having to do with eating or wearing animals, who insists that their house have neither TV nor computer, who homeschools their kids and obviously knows nothing about her husbands underground proclivities. Or the two children, one a pre-teen boy who dresses like a girl and the other a pre-teen girl, who attempts to murder her brother? Or the host of the TV show, which is a voyeur's version of Candid Camera, or his daughter who has been embarrassed on the show irretrievably. Or the fellow who goes to jail for transporting, without knowing it, endangered species for the restaurant, who gets out of prison and who, in spite of having a good heart, is befriended by a more mischievous ne'er-do-well, and who meets the daughter of the TV host, and who seeks to find out why these birds were coming into the country. Oh, yes, it is a comedy.

Much less weird are "Either/Or" and "Shylock" at Theater J. "Either/Or is of course Tom Keneally's story of Kurt Gerstein, the German Nazi who decides that his party is not always in the right, but who wants to be in the thick of things to act as a witness, but for whom the killing of Jews and others is too much. He becomes an unsuccessful whistle blower, but his papers are presented to the victorious English, although Gerstein is either murdered or commits suicide in prison before any trial can be held. Well acted, well written. But is it the best material for a play? Somehow, it would make a better movie, I think.

As to Arnold Wesker's "Shylock", a reworking of the story found in "Merchant of Venice", starring Theodore Bikel, in a modified stage reading formulation, it starts out very well, with a sympathetic Shylock, good friend to Antonio, and for whom the bond of a pound of flesh is meant to be a joke. But when Antonio's ships are lost at sea, even though all government parties are willing to forget the entire deal, Antonio and Shylock agree that the precedent would be potentially dangerous to the fragile Jewish community and insist on going through with the bargain. Of course, it does not happen because of the non-lawyer discovering the legal problems with the contract. The play deteriorates, I thought, in the second act. I don't think Wesker knew how to end it. I think he stuck too close the story line, something he did not need to do.


Before Shylock, we ate at Merkado. Very nice supper. Fish all around.

We also went to Theater J for the Friday afternoon reading of "The Milliner" by Susan Glass. An English playwright it is loosely (very loosely) the story of her grandfather, for whom English exile during the war did not end his love of Berlin, to which he returned. I think that he found out that while he remained a Berliner and always will, he was clearly no longer the German he thought he was.

Seemed like old times.

A beautiful Sunday afternoon. The ballpark. Nobody in the stands. I thought I was back at Sportsman's Park watching the Browns.

But something's wrong. Something's different? What could it be?

Oh, now I see.

The home team won.

Abraham: father of us all?

I had wanted to read Bruce Feiler's "Abraham" from the day it came out. Not that Feiler is a great scholar, or anything, but I had read "Walking the Bible", which I found to be an ingenious book. Not one that was profound, and in fact I thought that some of his statements and conclusions were wrong (or at least arguable), but the concept of exploring Israel and Sinai with the Torah text in mind, and doing so on three levels (the text itself, the condition of the biblical sites today, and using biblical historians and archeologists as guides) was very effective. I thought that it would be a very good introduction for those who had traveled to Israel, but not thought about things in these terms. [In fact, perhaps Moshe Pearlman's book, "Footsteps of Moses", wrtten 30 years ago, did much the same thing; I have the book, but have only looked at the pretty pictures].

When he put out "Abraham", which dealt not only with Judaism, but with Islam and Christianity, and which dealt with a broader geographic area, I had great hopes.

Unfortunately, the book is not very good. It (like the first book) does not go beneath the surface, his travels are much less extensive than in his earlier book, and his conclusions again seem not always right, and sometimes stretched to make the point.

For example, he says that the three religions all stem from Abraham, but from a different Abraham. The Jews get Abraham who made a covenant with God. The Christians get an Abraham for whom faith is all important. And the Moslems get an Abraham who always submits to God's will. Well, in fact, each of them have an Abraham whose qualities (good or bad) contain all three elements. Feiler's division is handy and seductive, but I do not think that it holds up.

I Missed Three (1 cent)

I missed 3 newspaperboxes in front of Marvelous Market. Total = 955

Cerrado!!

Turning the Page's annual book sale has been advertised that it will close on May 18. Today is May 10. It is "temporarily closed" with a sign that says: check our website for updates. The website says that it closed due to unforeseen circumstances, and more sales will be held later somewhere sometimes, perhaps.

So, I walked two blocks to Sixth and I Historic Synagogue, to see the Roman Vishniac photography exhibit that is open from Monday to Thursday, 12-3. I got there today, a Thursday, at 1. Locked tighter than a drum. No sign, no nothin'.

Cerrado.

848 + 104 = 952 (7 cents)

Number of newspaper boxes on streets and streetcorners between Chevy Chase Circle and K Street. (see April 3 blog)

I Gotta Tell You (25 cents)

I gotta tell you

about Rafael Patai's book, "The Seeds of Abraham"

about our conversations with a beekeeper and a fur trapper at the May fair in Solomon's Island, MD

about our dinner at Sushi Taro, and Michael Dirda's lecture on the writing of Isaac Babel

about Sari Nusseibeh's and Tova Reich's presentations at Politics and Prose

about the concert today at the Church of the Epiphany

about the Flower Mart at the National Cathedral

about the reading of Susan Glass' play "The Milliner" at Theater J

about the opening of Thomas Keneally's "Either/Or" at Theater J

about the delightful movie "Avenue Montaigne" at the Avalon

But when?

Books of the Day (2 cents)

1. The International Spy Museum has occasional noontime book signings and lectures, and I have attended a handful. They are, of course, free, as opposed to the museum which charges a hefty admission (I have never been in the museum).

Yesterday, the speaker was Bill Gertz, Washington Times reporter who concentrates on espionage, and writes from a (whether it is accurate or not) right wing paranoid perspective. His newest book, published last fall, is called "Enemies", not to be confused with the Isaac B. Singer book of the same title.

The books contains a series of chapters, each concentrating on someone spying, or allegedly spying, against America. The premise is "they are out to get us, we are out to stop them, they are competent, and we are not", or something like that.

The stories are all interesting, of course, from Wen Ho Lee (who he believes is guilty as sin), Katrina Leung and her lovers in the American intelligence establishment, spies from Cuba, from North Korea, from everywhere. Are they accurate? I am not sure.

He was written a lot about China: "The only reason they want nuclear weapons is to fight a war with us eventually".

What about Israeli spies? Well, those he thinks are more "friendly spies". You don't want them spying on us, but you also don't want to hurt the Israelis' feelings because we cooperate with them so well. "They are good on human spying; we on electronics", he said.

My own instinct of course is to be very suspicious of Gertz's dogmatic conclusions, but - especially because he is talking about undercover and counterintelligence - I find it hard to dismiss anything he has to say entirely.

2. Leaving the Spy Museum, I walked over to 7th Street. I wanted a place to get a light lunch, and I thought about the cafe at Olson's, a book store. To my surprise, though, every table was filled, and on my way out, I stopped to look over some of the new books. I found a signed copy of Tatyana Tolstaya's new collection of short stories in soft-back (I think perhaps there is no hardcover edition) and bought it. I then took it to Jaleo's where I sat at the bar and had a very nice salad (spinach, cheese, red peppers and walnuts)for less than you pay at Cosi's. I read the first story, "Loves Me, Loves Me Not", told by a precocious 5 year old Leningrader, talking about her French speaking, old and overweight nanny. Which was great. Twenty three more stories to go.

3. We went to see Tova Reich speak about her new book, "My Holocaust" last night at Politics and Prose. Reich has written a satirical book on the commercialization of the Holocaust. Two Polish survivors make a lot of money leading tours through Auschwitz and Birkenau, but one of their daughters has become a nun at the local Carmelite convent. One of the survivors becomes the head of the D.C. Holocaust Museum, and becomes under pressure to expand the museum to cover the "holocausts" of other groups. There is a museum takeover lead by African American Pushkin Jones, of the United Holocausts association. Etc.

Her reading shows that her writing is very clever. She brings up a large number of points that are worthy of discussion and debate. She says that she is against the commercialization of the Holocaust, that there are too many museums and monuments, and that the dead should be permitted to rest in peace. She also believes that the Holocaust is THE Holocaust, and it is a Jewish thing, belonging to no one else.

But wait a minute. Her husband, Walter, was the director of the Holocaust Museum here. And what is this book if not an attempt to capitalize on the commericialization of the Holocaust? Or am I missing something? Perhaps. It could be that she has written "My Holocaust" as the commercialization to end all commercializations. I guess.

Am I being critical? Not at all. I think I'll read the book.

Avraham Burg Last Night at Adas Israel

Avraham Burg is very impressive. His background is impressive, his father having been an Israeli cabinet minister and his maternal grandfather the former chief rabbi of Hebron. He himself has been a cabinet minister, the speaker of the Knesset and the head of the Jewish Agency. He has his share of charisma. His accented English speaking style is punctuated and animated. Because of his religious upbringing, he can bring biblical quotes to whatever is the task at hand. His mind is very agile. And he has a good sense of humor.

He divides the worlds into what appears to be an infinite series of groupings. People who like Jews, people who hate Jews. People are universal thinkers, people who are parochial. People who embrance modernity, and people who shun it. People who say potayto, people who say potahto. People who are part of the problem and people who are part of the solution.

He talks about the Jewish world going into many directions - insular, wordly, observant, humanistic. Some (or all) will succeed, and split further, while some (or all) will fail.

He is on the side of those who favor humanistic values, and universal thinking.

Then there is Israel. While discussing Israel from several aspects, he avoided (perhaps as a result of bad experiences in other American synagogues?) the tough questions, questions that he has written about and been such a lightning rod at home. He did say that the state of Israel's leaders have not treated its Arab neighbors well, and he did say that this was not consistent with Jewish values. (One thing of interest in his remarks was something like: "If you ask any Jew, what makes up Judaism, the answer will always include a reference to treating people well.")

But he did not talk about the ultimate dilemma which has been a focus of his most controversial remarks in Israel: can Israel remain a Jewish state without continuing to maltreat the Arabs, and if it does so, is it really a Jewish state? (He did give a reference to his appearance on an Israeli talk show where he 'debated' several former Gaza settlers and announced that he was not their 'brother'; he was their adversary, and that he only had one sibling, his birth sister. But then later on he addressed the audience talking about their 'brothers and sisters in Israel'.)

And his lecture was noticeably absent on solutions. Particulary at a time when the acting head of the Palestinian parliament gave a Friday talk at a mosque in Sudan, saying that all Jews and all Americans must be annihilated.

He was very good to listen to. He was provocative and hopefully he got some in the audience, who were not used to thinking, to start thinking. But this was not an adverse audience, as it seemed to me that most of the more right wing members of the Congregation did not attend. It was appreciative of his remarks, and (whether it knows it or not), it is looking for leadership on the issue. In the diaspora (a term that Burg thinks has become archaic), he might be able to provide this type of leadership. In Israel, it seems to me that he has come too close (by his march leftward) to becoming the Ramsey Clark of Israel. But perhaps that is too harsh.

I would definitely like to hear him again, and give him a chance to expound on what he said, and move to the next level. Whether, in a discussion rather than a lecture format, he would be effective, I don't know. He may overwhelm any discussion. If not, the discussion would be worth having.

Examples of the humor: What is a conservative? A liberal with teenage daughters? What is the diaspora? Exile, after it has become comfortable.

May 1, 2007 (2 cents)

At the gym for about an hour, reading Raphael Patai's "Seeds of Abraham" while on the elliptical.

To the dry cleaners, taking and picking up.

A bagel with a little orange marmelade and some very good coffee.

The metro to work.

A busy morning.

Lunch with a friend at "The Fourth Estate".

A quieter afternoon.

A meeting with a client in from Florida

The metro again.

A very nice supper at Indique.

Listening to Avraham Burg speak at Adas Israel.

Home.

Descended from the Elephants?

We all know (or at least we all think)that elephants, very social animals, know when they are about to die and, for whatever reason, wander off by themselves to die alone, away from their mates and friends. For humans, this has never been a normal course of action. The perfect death, in fact, is generally idealized as one where you die peacefully and painlessly in your bed surrounded by family.

How to explain, then, the fact that three of the six movies we saw at the DC International Film Festival had its central characters take on the habits of elephants?

First, take "The Education of Fairies", where the Argentinean filmmaker had the mother/wife tell her husband that, for reasons she could not explain, their seemingly perfect marriage was over and that she would have to leave? In fact, we learned at the end of the movie that she had been diagnosed as having a vascular brain disease (a la Senator Tim Johnson) and could die at any minute, or be paralyzed, and she could not inflict that sorrow or responsibility on her husband and (seven or eight year old) son. In fact, she does not leave, either because she is convinced not to, changes her own mind, or does not have the internal strength to carry out her plans. But this is the central dynamic of this excellent movie, around which all other plots and subplots turn.

Then, there was "Le Voyage en Armenie", where the elderly and stubborn Armenian emigrant in Marseilles, in order in part to avoid the surgery that his no longer that young and stubborn cardiologist daughter has arranged form him, and in part to re-unite with his girl friend of 50 (?) years earlier, sneaks out of Marseilles to return to his homeland. He did not tell his daughter or son-in-law, but apparently told his teenage granddaughter who was sworn to secrecy. Now, going to Armenia is not exactly wandering off into the jungle, particularly when there is an old flame waiting for you (and of course we have no idea where our "Fairies" heroine would have gone), but it is abandoning the comfortable if not perfect (in "Fairies" it was both comfortable and perfect) life you have known, to undertake a final journey into terra not quite cognita.

Finally, "My Mexican Shiva". Here, Moises dies in the first scene, but his death is the core of the entire film. He had run off, at an advanced age, with a "shicksa" (perhaps when his wife was still alive; this is what killed her, according to their daughter). But three months before his death, he leaves his new love without saying good-bye or leaving a forwarding address. She believes he has found someone still newer; in fact, he has learned he had a coronary condition, and he simply checked into a hotel. What he did during his last three months is not clear, but he seemed to have avoided his girl friend and his family, although he died dancing at a reunion of his Yiddish Theatre troupe of many years past.

So what is it that sent all three filmmakers in the same direction? It seems to me that running away at this time to face death alone is so counter-instinctual.

I can't imagine that this is to be a trend in film or literature, but I'll keep my eyes open.

Goal Met, Barely

I went to the National Galler of Art to see the Jasper Johns exhibit on its last day (it has been open since January). Very glad I did. Never having been a Johns fan, I was surprised. His pieces look much nicer in person than in reproductions. They look much better in large numbers, than singly. The exhibit only covered ten years of his career, from 1955 (when he was 25) to 1965. Targets (in fact, Target the store was the main corporate sponsor), Red-Yellow-Blue, Numbers, were the main subject matter. The colors, the proportions, the thought which went into each piece, and the complexity of the materials used, were very apparent.

(The goal, met barely, is to make sure that I see all major exhibitions in town)

Afterwords, dinner at Le Chat Noir, French restaurant on Wisconsin and Emery. Did not know what to expect. Very nice.

Quick Film News (1 cent)

We saw our final two films at the DC International Filmfest, "Hula Girls" and "My Mexican Shiva".

"Hula Girls" is the story of the 1965 closing of the Joban Coal Mine in Iwaki, and the conflict and depression which accompanied it. A group of city boosters decided to create a tourist destination, a Hawaiian theme park and to train local teenagers to be Hawaiian dancers. It is based on a true story, and deals primarily with emotions all around. Today, over 40 years later the theme park is going strong, and the performances continue daily.

In the movie, Iwaki seemed very remote, terribly ugly and overall a horrible place to be. Wheter this is an accurate portrayal, I do not know, but today it is a city of about 350,000, with museums, beaches, hotels, restaurants and, of course, the Hawaiian Center.

The movie has won some awards, but I found it a bit tedious. Three stars.

"My Mexican Shiva" on the other hand is a very clever and enjoyable movie. I hope it is shown again in Washington; I think large numbers of locals would enjoy it. Very basically, the father/grandfather falls dead of a heart attack at a reunion of his Yiddish Language Theater Company, and shiva occurs involving his largely estranged, and highly disfunctional family. His neurotic daughter, ready the fly off the hook at any moment, controlled if at all only by her stable husband. His adolescent son who is chronologically about 50. The son's ex-wife, a New Ager, living in Arizona. Their son, on the lam from a drug charge, who has become a ba'al tshuvah in Jerusalem, but is arrested by the Mexico City police on day two of the shiva. The daughters, two children, a son (with wife and baby) and single daughter living in New York. Many elegant old members of the Mexico City Ashkenazic commmunity. A Chaverman who runs the shiva. Two not quiet real orthodox rabbis, who are looking at the entire affair and judging the deceased. And many others, not the least of whom belong to a Mariachi Band. Five stars.

I Did Not Care For It At All ($1.26)

The Saul Steinberg exhibit at the Museum of American Art. At all.