GARY PRESLEY

The Polish Troops in Verdun

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 17:37:00 +0000

I suppose the battalion of Polish troops working with NATO in the early 1950s in France were in limbo. There were others at that time, casually termed "DPs," meaning "displaced persons." I wonder now what sort of papers the Poles carried, whether they had passports.

As I recall some of the officers had wives and families with them. I remember my father saying that a few of the officers had held prestigious positions in pre-WW II Poland -- in the Army, in the Polish Military Academy, in the Polish government.

The troopers were less discussed, I suppose mostly because of the language barrier. I remember traveling with my father to an ammunition dump, the main gate of which was being guarded by a single soldier with a dog. It was a Sunday afternoon, and our family was simply sightseeing. My father got out of the car, walked to the gate, was admitted, and then he walked around the dump for a while. All during his informal visit, the dog lunged at the end of its leash and the trooper simply stood in place, following my father's movements with his eyes, stoic, no change of expression, no sign that he either welcomed or resented my father's intrustion. When the inspection was complete, the trooper opened the gate for my father without saying a word, and the dog kept barking and lunging until my father returned to the car.

"I think he was in the Underground too long," my father told my mother, "and the dog too."

While it was no oddity that the battalion had a canine unit, given that one of its duties was base security, I remember it strange that the dogs were as an assorted a bunch as might be found in any city pound. When we hear "K-9," we expect to see German Shepherds or Dobermans, but that unit had only one or two of those breeds. The remainder, as I recall, ranged from St. Bernards to Great Danes to large mutt-appearing animals.

I was fascinated by the Poles, perhaps because each time I was around them I felt welcomed, no doubt because so many of them were separated from their families. I never really knew how my father felt about his duty. He was the sort that accepted his assignments, kept his uniforms starched and iron, his brass shined, and reported in early every morning.

How the Poles felt about him would be another story. When his assignment was over, the battalion gave him the water-color seen here, painted by one of the enlisted men. My mother thought it captured him perfectly, but my father doubtless never read Robert Burns -- Oh wad some power the giftie gie us. To see oursel's as others see us!

But the painting graced the walls of their home until their deaths, my mother even taking it to be cleaned and reframed once. I suppose it says something that my father never asked her to take it down.

Unpacking Memories

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 20:46:00 +0000

My father spent his Korean War service assigned to an infantry division in training at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, after which he was promoted and assigned to a small US Army outpost in Verdun, France.

There for a good portion of his three years in Europe he was the US Army liaison officer assigned to a battalion of Polish soldiers. The Poles had escaped the Nazis, fought with the Allies, but could not return to their home because of the Russian occupation. Many had been in the pre-WW II Polish army. Others had served in the Polish government. And many had fought in the underground. Only a few had wives or families with them.

During the summers, I sometimes spent the day with my father, and the Poles were always welcoming. In fact, as a family, we often attended their holiday celebrations. All this came to mind when I found a bird carved from a single block of wood by one of the Polish troops. It had been packed away during our recent move. The soldier gave it to me one day when I was traveling with my father. I've kept the little bird for more than a half century now, and each time I see it, I wonder about those men from that far away place and time.

About fifteen years ago during a period when I was active as a ham radio operator, I communicated with a French ham radio operator who lived in Verdun. When I asked him if he remembered the NATO presence there in the 1950s, he said he did, and he also had a recollection of the Polish soldiers that were stationed there. He told me he thought most of them had either been granted French citizenship or had immigrated to the US or to Australia.

I suppose nearly all of them, like most veterans of WW II, have completed the long march through life, or if not are near the end. The memory of those soldiers in limbo has stuck with me for a half-century. It seems a melancholy victory, to have been driven from one's homeland by a vicious enemy, to fight and see that enemy brought to his knees, only to have the country placed under the boot of another tyrant.

Mystery Writing Is Murder: Crime Caper Novelist Bob Sanchez Talks about Writing

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 20:39:00 +0000

Today I’d like to welcome Bob Sanchez to the blog. Bob, a retired technical writer, has published two novels, When Pigs Fly and Getting Lucky.

Elizabeth asked me for a post on revising—not necessarily how to do it, but how I do it. Writing and revising aren’t separate processes, but are closely bound together. Revising is writing. Before my fingers first hit the keyboard, a debate begins in my head about where to start. That doesn’t last long, because finding the right beginning and ending aren’t essential yet. It’s really okay to begin anywhere.

The complete essay here at Mystery Writing Is Murder.

More about Bob -- His blog. Bob also is the webmaster and frequent reviewer for the Internet Review of Books.

The Coen Brothers, Beer, and Other Things

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 21:56:00 +0000

I've read From Beer to Maternity to review for The Internet Review of Books, and I was able to secure an email interview with the book's author, Maggie Lamond Simone to be featured in conjunction with the review.

How can anyone interview a humor writer without discussing "What's funny?" With that the conversation turned to types of humor, which in turn led us to the Coen Brothers and their films, particularly Raising Arizona.

All this bubbled up again this morning when I heard a report from Mike Evans on our local radio station, KGBX that the Coens are remaking the classic western, True Grit.

That film is a favorite, based on the novel of the same name by Charles Portis. And therein is a line we use often around our house when someone seems a bit overambitious.

I call that bold talk for a one-eyed fat man.

True Grit is one of those books, fiction it's true, that celebrates the western ethos in a way that makes a reader wish it had been so. Jeff Bridges is supposed to be the Coens' choice for the Rooster Cogburn (John Wayne) part, which makes the prospective production even more interesting.

Publicizing a Book Is a Neverending Story

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 18:42:00 +0000

Gary Presley – Author Interview

by Cathy Stucker
What is your most recent book? Tell us a bit about it.

My memoir, Seven Wheelchairs: A Life beyond Polio, was recently published by The University of Iowa Press. I had had experience writing and publishing creative nonfiction essays, and I attempted a memoir only because fellow writers who had read my pieces about living with a disability in American society gave them insight into a different world. I have used a wheelchair since people with disabilities were considered “invalids” and “shut-ins” and denied access to education and employment through the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act, the most significant civil rights legislation for people with disabilities.

Read the complete interview here.

Year of the Dog, VII: "I Wanna Be Cesar Milan!"

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 20:01:00 +0000

I've never been around a pack of dogs before. I've had one dog. I've had two. But with the arrival of Daisy the Boxer, we apparently are now an official pack.

There's a definite pack dynamic. Kitty the Boston is leader, unless she is approached by my wife or me. If so, she immediately exposes her belly, the classic submissive pose. Daisy has moved to second rank, and Doc the Boston boy has been demoted to third. Doc is resentful of his demotion, however. He has taken to marking the spots where Daisy displays her lack of complete housebreaking.

The dynamic is most visible when I feed the three. I feed Daisy in the kitchen. I feed Doc and Kitty in the bathroom. (I love tile floors.) Daisy will leave her dish half-finished. She moves to drive Doc away from his food, unless I am there block the door. If I stop her, she will wait until I allow her into the bathroom to check Doc's dish before returning to finish her own food.

The food dynamic between Doc and Kitty is different yet. I cannot place their dishes too close together without sparks flying, but they otherwise they are content to eat in peace until Doc finishes his dish, which he invariably does first. At that time, he will stand as close as possible to Kitty's dish and stare at her. The result? Kitty's mothering eventually gene kicks in, and she allows him the last few bites.

Lately I've permitted Daisy access to the bathroom when Doc and Kitty are eating. I use my voice and a small stick to keep her away from Doc. (Note #1: Daisy will not attempt to drive Kitty from her food.) (Note #2: For PETA members, I do not hit or beat Daisy with the stick; I simply hold it in front of her, touch her lightly, and say "Back!")

Daisy learned to sit at about 12 weeks; she learned "Wait" a few days later; now that other training is kicking it, I thought it time to attempt to shape pack dynamics the three apparently aren't able to sort out among themselves without tooth and fang.

An example of that relatively nonviolent process is displayed in how the three move through the door to the outdoors. Kitty goes first. Daisy stands back three or four feet until Kitty is outside. Doc sits and waits until Daisy exits, and then he ventures out.

The Dangers of Stupidity

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 18:08:00 +0000

Kenny at The Traveling Wheelchair sent me a story that reminded me of two things.

People with disabilities are too often at the mercy of patronizing entities that fail in their responsibility to provide proper service.
That there is a difference in being stupid, and responsible for yourself, and in being subject to another person's stupidity.

The wheelchair restraint story reminded me of an ugly incident here in Missouri that occurred several years ago. Attendants assisting a paralyzed person in taking shower helped him into the shower, turned on the water, and left for reasons I cannot remember. What I can remember is that is that the attendants had misjudged the water temperature settings, and the man was scalded. He eventually died of the injury.

The wheelchair restraint story also reminded me that I rode around for years in my personal van without proper restraints. In fact, I may still be doing so. My first restraints were none. I simply braced myself behind the front seats. My second set consisted on a pair of recessed tracks cut into the van's floor, a series of bungee cords, and one of the van's seat belts across my lap. My present restraint "system" consists of two sets of the van's seat belts, one for the wheelchair itself, and the other for me (to keep me in the wheelchair). The clip ends are bolted onto the frame of my power chair; the open ends are the original bolt devices attached to the van frame. To visualize this imagine two of the van's center seats removed, and all those wonderful seat belt systems waiting to be re-employed.

Most modern, commercially made restraint systems consist of wheel lock-downs augmented by a bar system across the lap of the wheelchair. At least, that's the system I remember in the commercial van used to transport people around Graceland.

I can remember when seatbelts became common on vehicles, and one of the analogies for their use was the comparison of a pea in a can. This, of course, was predicated on the idea of "the can" not coming open and flinging the pea out.

If a person rides about in a 250-pound wheelchair, I suppose the analogy is more like a lead bullet in a can.

I may add another seatbelt to protect myself from my own stupidity. I wish I could do something to protect myself from other people's stupidities.

Now Appearing on The Internet Review of Books

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 18:17:00 +0000

Read the great reviews of Fiction and serious Nonfiction here.

INTERESTING TIMES:
Writings from a Turbulent Decade
By George Packer
411 pp Farrar, Straus, and Giroux $28.00

A wise man once said, “American exceptionalism has pervaded U.S. politics since 1776.” George Packer analyzes that thought in Interesting Times, a collection of essays which have appeared in The New Yorker, The New York Times Magazine, The Boston Globe, Dissent, and Mother Jones. Packer bookends his ruminations with the two signal events of the naughts: the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center in 2001, and the election of Barack Obama in 2008.

Read the complete Brief here.

Grandma Moses and Robert E. Smith

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 21:12:00 +0000

Image linked from Robert Eugene Smith blogspot.

I've often said I'd like to a be a "Grandma Moses" of writing. I have the "late in life" start down, but I probably will never be celebrated with a Life Magazine article.

A painter in the style of Grandma Moses died in Springfield, Missouri over the weekend, Robert E. Smith. But Smith, whose primitives appeared Moses-like, also had a playful air about his life and work.

From The Springfield News-Leader:

Smith was known as a folk -- or "outsider" -- artist because he did not have classical training. His work has been displayed in many exhibitions, including in New York and Chicago.

Crigger said an exhibition of Smith's work at MSU in 2007 was the most attended exhibit that gallery has ever had.

"He did not just paint paintings," Crigger said. "He also painted objects, such as tables, chairs and TVs."

Crigger said Smith once was trying to sell an old black and white television "at garage sale prices" and could not get anyone to take it. Crigger said he suggested that Smith paint it.

"He painted it, and the artwork had a whole story behind it and I think it sold for several hundred dollars," Crigger said.

I'm not one much for nonrepresentational art. I have no luck deciphering Pollock. Conversely, not every painting needs to be a Norman Rockwell clone. Smith's work -- its free-spirited, child-like quality -- may not come to be considered great classic art, but it displayed a wonderful artistic integrity.

They're the Chinese Eight Cents on the Dollar for Your Bonja!

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 20:04:00 +0000

I stopped wearing a wrist watch a month or two ago. I cannot say why exactly. The little rectangular Seiko did catch on the edge of my laptop, it's true. And there are clocks everywhere -- on the wall, on the computer itself, on a shelf underneath the stereo. That one notes presently that it is 72-degrees Fahrenheit with 24% humidity in this, a bonus.

But I've always been somewhat obsessive about time, even waking up in the middle of the night to check the bedside clock. This came to mind -- and the fact I once saved up money to buy a Bulova Accutron watch -- when I read Roger Cohen's column in The New York Times, "The World's Watchmaker.

Tommy Hilfiger, Jennifer Lopez, Coach, Titan, Trump — name the brand and Leung is manufacturing their watches in China’s southern Guangdong Province, the place that is now the world’s factory.

Leung was wearing a great hulk of a watch called a Bonja. It’s big in Gulf states, where it retails for about $4,000. Leung told me he’s paid $200 for this model and that leaves him a comfortable margin. For Juicy Couture watches that retail in New York for $95, he gets eight dollars. He’s still making money on that. In general he receives about 8 percent of the retail price, or about 40 bucks for a $495 Lacoste watch.

I think I paid $105 for an Accutron about 30 or 35 years ago. That Bulova was trendy, and the commercial -- one man leaning over to adjust another person's watch on a commuter train -- apparently meant that I could finally know the exact time.

Until I could afford a Rolex.

But now my cell phone keeps better time than either of the Accutron's I had, which were somewhat fragile devices. And I always keep my cell phone in my pocket. And it lights up so that I can read it at night.

And I'm trying very hard not to be obsessively interested in the concept of time, or rather What time is it, I wonder. Perhaps it has to do with growing older. Perhaps one day I'll stop thinking Hey, I forgot to put on my watch.

*image linked from Wikipedia

Now Appearing on Selling Books

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 17:16:00 +0000

Critiquing Coffee and Donuts – Online Critique Groups

I love those little donuts covered with powdered sugar, but I don’t want to be cleaning their dust off my blue jeans when I’m taking part in a critique session. That sort of thing happens during the let’s-have-coffee-and-chat break at the average face-to-face critique group for writers, doesn’t it?

I prefer an on-line critique group. All right, I confess. My computer keyboard has crumbs in it. My preference for donuts isn’t the only reason I don’t participate in a face-to-face group. I could list a dozen, but my mouth’s full at the moment. Let me quote a group of writers who participate in my favorite on-line organization — The Internet Writing Workshop .

* “I can drop in on a discussion any time of day or night. It’s not like a face-to-face group where you have a scheduled time and place, then have limited time to critique and be critiqued.”
* “You meet people from all over the world who share their writing experience and training.”
* “On-line suits my peripatetic lifestyle. With the advent of lap tops and wi-fi I can read and write wherever and stay in touch forever. “
* “It is as anonymous as you wish it to be. Share only as much of who you are as you feel comfortable doing.”
* “You don’t have to dress up to participate, nor do you have to worry about the traffic to reach the group on time.”

The IWW operates via email. It’s comprised of multiple critique lists — fiction, nonfiction, novels, poetry, prose, young adult, practice, and teen writing — plus a general list discussing writing. The genre lists generally are restricted to submission and critique postings only and have participation requirements.

The IWW is not fee-based. Instead it operates by a practical application of the Golden Rule. Offer plenty of critiques, offer your best critiques, and you’ll find your submissions receive intelligent, thoughtful critiques.

Additionally, it operates under the auspices of efficient and effective moderators. The supervision isn’t overbearing, but flamers are booted immediately and lurkers are removed.

The IWW is one of the more prominent and professional organizations on the Internet. And it can boast a list of participants who have had significant publishing success. Few of us can write without learning from authentic and productive criticism. The IWW is where I find writers who will tell me the truth about the quality of my work.

You can find details about The Internet Writing Workshop here:

The "Vegetative State" That Isn't

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 21:24:00 +0000

Image linked from The New York Times story

Perhaps the ugliest public fight over a comatose person was that surrounding Terri Schiavo. No one wanted to see politicians from Bush on down, and across the spectrum, use her, but it still surprises me that very few people comprehended that she was to be starved to death if her husband's wishes were implemented. I do not know what I would do if a person I loved, or for whom I had responsibility, were to become comatose and (apparently) unresponsive. I do know that I would not without food or water.

The Schiavo debacle is in the news again because of a recent study, Willful Modulation of Brain Activity in Disorders of Consciousness, in The New England Journal of Medicine as translated for popular consumption by The New York Times and The Washington Post, among other venues.

I've participated in a list of media activists who speak out on disability in society for perhaps a dozen years. One of the members who have, to use a phrase from the 1960s, "raised my consciousness" about disability is William Loughborough. He spoke out this morning about this study.

The claim that Terri Schiavo´s case didn´t fit in with the new information might well also be as wrong as the "diagnosis" itself has been shown to be - 40% misdiagnosis rate.

Skip the "medical model" please. We are clients, not patients and our disabilities are better "dealt with" than "cured".

From the Post article: "In some cases, the damage to the brain is so severe that it is simply inconceivable they could produce any responses," Owen said.

Of course this self'-fulfilling prophecy is what allowed them to be only slightly better than chance when they made the "diagnosis" - the science shows them how things that were "inconceivable" become routine but meanwhile they ignore the fact that Terri Schiavo was responsive as evidenced in video clips. We are people of diversity, not "patients" and our human rights are being trampled by continuation of the totally discredited "medical model".

While the NEJM has a scientific tone, there is much of "The Other" in both of the news reports, which reveals itself in quotes like this one from the Post article.

"If a patient wanted to die, if they were asked, 'Do you want to die?,' could they explain themselves adequately?" said Joseph J. Fins, chief of the division of medical ethics at Weill Cornell Medical College. "If they say yes, what does that mean? If this person said yes but meant maybe, or it was 'sort of yes,' we may not be able to understand that sort of nuance. You have to be very careful."

Such an attitude reveals projection of the doctor's attitude toward disability, which does not bode well for his interaction with the patient or with those who are making decisions.

Year of the Dog, VI: Pack Dynamics

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 22:45:00 +0000

We have two adult Boston terriers who have seniority in this house. Daisy the Boxer is the junior member of the pack. My wife is big on "pack theory," and when anything upsets the dynamics of the household -- anything, that is, involving the dogs, she says "You've got to remember they're pack animals."

This applies whether the dogs are sorting out their place on the bed, who gets a treat first, or who goes first out the door. And the leader of the pack is Kitty, the older female Boston. Daisy will not go through a door until Kitty has led. Daisy will not lay upon the worn afghan thrown on the floor in my sitting room unless Kitty allows her to do so. Daisy will, however, drive Doc from his food dish and take his meal.

Kitty has never done that. In fact, Kitty often allows Doc to finish her meal. He will not take it from her. He simply finishes first, moves to her dish, and stands close by until her apparent mother-instinct kicks in, whereupon she moves away and allows him to clean her dish.

Daisy will finish her meal -- three cups or more -- and then, if allowed, rush to where Doc is eating and simply drive him away from his dish. I can feed Doc and Kitty together, but now I must feed Daisy in a separate area, and then block her access to Doc.

But Daisy makes no attempt to drive Kitty from her dish. I know there is something other than physical force involved. There's growling and snarling, obviously. But I cannot hear nothing distinctive in Kitty's growl that might dissuade Daisy from attempting to annex Kitty's food. Both Bostons weigh around 20 pounds and stand perhaps 12 to 14 inches at the shoulder. Daisy weighs close to 30 pounds now, and she's almost twice as tall.

It's interesting to observe, this sorting out of who is the leader, who controls the food. It's interesting to see that the dynamic continues outdoors. Kitty leads. The other two follow. Oddly though, we have been able, at least so far, to keep Daisy from following Kitty's lead when strangers approach. Kitty hates intruders, friendly or otherwise. Daisy, conversely, greets everyone happily, eager to be petted and praised.

And that's easier on us human members of the pack.

Year of the Dog, V: Can Boxers Be House Trained?

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 20:45:00 +0000

We are beginning to doubt it, and we are saved from flights of cursing only by our long-term (and pre-Boxer) plans to remove carpet from the lower floors of our house. Carpet mixes poorly with wheelchairs, and so we knew it would be perhaps only a year before the carpet here began to show ugly wear.

But Daisy, the Boxer, is inordinately difficult to housebreak. We have finally arrived at the stage where she seems ashamed of her misdeeds. When the offending mark is pointed out with a "Bad Daisy, bad girl!" she attempts to hide (ostrich-like, since she's too big to crawl completely beneath it) under the bed.

Boxer afficiandos say "You cannot housebreak them until they're five or six months old." Daisy turns six months today.

Another Boxer owner said, "Put a bell on the door. Boxers are fascinated with bells." We have a bell on the door, but we still have wet spots on the carpet.

The oddity is that Daisy will whine at night, knowing that she'll be let out to do her business (and receive her treat). I've taken to letting her out each time she makes a noise during the day, and of course, praising her extensively and treating her royally post-bladder-void.

We had her spayed last week. Perhaps that will change her metabolism for the better.

An Essay on J. D. Salinger

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 19:30:00 +0000

Like so many others of my generation, I read Catcher in the Rye as a teenager. I don't remember being deeply affected by the novel, but then again I was a somewhat self-absorbed and relatively unschooled youngster. I liked Studs Lonigan better, for some reason.

However, I know now J. D. Salinger's work altered the literary scene more than I then appreciated. My Internet Review of Books compatriot, George O'Har, has written an intriguing essay discussing Salinger, which readers can find here.

image from Amazon

Boiled Eggs and Other Inconsequential Matters

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 19:40:00 +0000

I don't eat meat, even to the point of avoiding meat byproducts like broth and gelatin and, well, it pays to read labels. "The Original & Genuine Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce" contains anchovies, as an example.

But I'm not a fanatic. In the words of my wife, I often eat "pre-chicken." I love "the incredible edible egg," and I especially like them boiled, halved, and sprinkled with "Tabasco" sauce (no anchovies included). And that brings me to the observation that long ago I learned a good measure of salt in the boiling water transforms the egg shells to the easily peel'able stage. There are other methods, but the salt-in-the-water method works for me, and it has the advantage of being simple. I suspect the salt causes the albumen (the egg's thin outer membrane) to bind to the shell.

But sometimes it simply doesn't work. Or better said, it works on all but one or two or three of the eggs in the pot. I suspect it has something to do with the genetic engineering so prevalent in the chicken industry. I suspect that layer chickens have been engineered to produce shells that are of a thickness that is both sturdy enough to ship and easy enough to crack.

Which is probably one more reason why the vegan lifestyle appeals.

Except that plants are being engineered too.

Amazon link for Just Food.

"Attacking the Truth"

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 19:45:00 +0000

I often think aloud ... actually, at the keyboard about the concept of "truth," which I suppose relates in a measure to the concept of reality.

Which in turn is probably both infinite and quarkian.

Like truth.

In any event, there's a short piece entitled "Attacking the Truth" on the Selling Books website which was inspired by re-reading a review of Where Did I Leave My Glasses that I did for The Internet Review of Books.

Leaving Home

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 20:46:00 +0000

Click here to donate.

"Run away from home? Who, me?"

It's a joke around our house that I would get no more than 28 miles distant -- that's not far enough to reach a land with tropical weather, a place I would seek -- which is the advertised distance available from my fully charged wheelchair batteries.

That's why I'm intrigued with an idea of the "Journey of a Million Smiles," as announced on the coincidentally named Traveling Wheelchair website.

It won't be Kenny of the Traveling Wheelchair making the million-smile journey but rather Matt Eddy.

From June 29, 2008 to October 25,2008, Matt took his wheelchair Roll’n Across America Summer 2008 to raise awareness for disability issues and represent Matt’s Place, a charity that Matt and his Respiratory Therapist Ron Steenbruggen started to build accessible houses for people with severe disabilities so they can live independently in their communities.

Matt will leave Red Rock Park at Lynn Beach in Lynn, Massachusetts on June 5, 2010 at 10am and drive his wheelchair on back roads across the USA with a final destination of The Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach, California. Matt’s goal is to cross the USA in the shortest time by wheelchair while collecting one dollar from one million people. The journey is estimated to take 120 days. The funds raised from the “Million Smiles Tour” will support the programs provided by Matt’s Place Inc.

Based upon my own experience, I'm guess'timating Matt will average, say, 3-miles-per-hour. If he can roll along about eight hours a day -- let's add an extra mile to make it even -- he can cover 3000 miles in the 120 days.

Seven Wheelchairs Made Accessible, Finally

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 16:20:00 +0000

I heard from a reader last week -- let's make that, a listener -- who said, "Recently, I listened to your book which I downloaded from the National Library Service for the Blind."

While I couldn't find it during a quick search of the NLSB site, I suppose those readers with visual impairments will be more familiar with the process.

I am pleased, of course. Seven Wheelchairs was published through The University of Iowa Press which did not have the resources to make it immediately available as an audio book. I do hear some word that the Press may issue a Kindle version soon.

The Opposite Field: A Review

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Sat, 16 Jan 2010 20:31:00 +0000

THE OPPOSITE FIELD: A Memoir
By Jesse Katz
352 pp. Crown Publishers $25.00
Reviewed by Gary Presley

Anyone can write a memoir. No, let’s say, Anyone has the stuff of memoir in a life lived, but it takes artistry, a facility with language, introspection, a measure of courage, and intellectual integrity to write a true memoir.

Read the complete review here.

"Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.”

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Wed, 13 Jan 2010 20:31:00 +0000

There is an excellent piece in the New York Times, Tara Parker-Pope's interview with Michael Pollan, that's worth reading.

Strangely enough, the Times almost simultaneously ran a story "The New Age Caveman and the City," about people who attempt to emulate the dietary habits of our "Paleolithic ancestors." Raw meat, gorging and fasting, anyone?

The best piece I've read recently about food and modern dietary habits is a book I reviewed for The Internet Review of Books:

JUST FOOD:
Where Locavores Get It Wrong and How We Can Truly Eat Responsibly
By James E. McWilliams

What's for dinner?

A sweet potato, garnished with pepper/onion salsa, two slices of five-whole-grain bread, a boiled egg, and two small pieces of dark chocolate.

image from Food Network

A Trip into Imagination

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 20:28:00 +0000

I find it odd that memories spark imagination, don't you? A recent story published on Camroc Press Review's site -- "What Keeps Us Together" -- is a figment of whimsy, but I still remember my boss griping about an unpleasant family business trip he made from Maryland to Missouri, stopping only for gasoline for his 1964 Pontiac Catalina.

We searched for the one thing that would hold us together that Friday night, and we burned through the early morning hours rumbling through the inventory of all the things that were wrong, were painful, were intent on pulling us apart.

Read the piece in full here.

"Shine on Me:" a Book Review

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 18:21:00 +0000

Helen Keller, an icon of American history, was a woman of intelligence, discipline, and ambition who made a significant impact on society in spite of being born blind and deaf. It is good to remember that others have faced similar circumstances and succeeded as well. Margaret Vizinau was one. An African-American born in segregated rural Arkansas, Vizinau became a celebrated singer and choir director in San Francisco. Her blindness from birth adds an extra dimension to her accomplishments.

The woman chronicled in this story accomplished much, and I wish I had been able to give the book a rave review.

Shine on Me: The Story of Margaret Vizinau, A Determined African-American Woman and Her Faith in God
by D. Dexter Vizinau

Read my review here.

Looking for a Late-Minute Christmas Gift?

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 20:27:00 +0000

Click here to buy it on Amazon.

LETTERS TO A YOUNG DOCTOR
By Richard Selzer

Despite its title, a thoughtful person shouldn’t consider this book only as a gift for someone in the medical field. No, this is a book an introspective person might offer to a kindred spirit. To read this collection of essays is to acknowledge the essence of St. Paul’s supposition that there are “angels among us.” And they need not be celebrated like Mother Teresa or the Dalai Lama.

The essay “Toenails” illustrates that, as the essay “Imelda”—” she pressed to her mouth a filthy, pink, balled-up rag as though to stanch a flow or buttress against pain”—reminds us that angels sometimes have rough edges and tattered wings.

If your “thinker”—the kindred spirit who receives the book—gives you a hug and a whispered “thank you” after reading Letters to a Young Doctor, you can turn to more of Selzer’s profound work for the next occasion. There are eleven other volumes waiting to be gift-wrapped. Nearly every word illustrates what it means for us to be spirits immersed in these strange fragile bodies.

Already have it? I'll send a signed copy of my memoir, Seven Wheelchairs: A Life beyond Polio, to those who want to purchase it directly. Contact me here on the blog with your email address.

Looking for a Christmas Gift for a Christian?

garypresley@gmail.com (Gary) — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 22:04:00 +0000

I reviewed this book for The Internet Review of Books, and I found it deeply stimulating ...

REASON, FAITH, AND REVOLUTION:
Reflections on the God Debate
By Terry Eagleton
185 pp. Yale University Press, $25.00

Terry Eagleton opens his defense of humankind’s God-search with “Religion has wrought untold misery in human affairs.”

Be you evangelical, fundamentalist, mainline Protestant, Orthodox Jew or Reformed Jew, Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox, or even a theo-centric Muslim, you might sigh and wonder what sort of ally has enlisted in the defense of the divine.

No need to worry. By page two, Eagleton says “ ... I may know just about enough theology to be able to spot when someone like Richard Dawkins or Christoper Hitchens, a couple I shall henceforth for convenience reduce to the single signifier ‘Ditchkins,’ is talking out of the back of his neck.”

That’s the impetus for this short book: a response to two popular tomes authored by the evangelical atheists Dawkins and Hitchens. Only a few pages in, a reader begins to see the author’s least favorite of the pair is Dawkins, a man whose opinions he apparently cannot tolerate, and finds gleefully easy to denigrate.

“ ... let me draw a contrast between the stylish, entertaining, and splendidly impassioned, and compulsively readable quality of the former’s God Is Not Great and Dawkins’s The God Delusion, which merits absolutely none of these epithets.”

In a few short pages, though, Eagleton reveals he also is willing to pillory the righteous, which he finds most prevalent in American Christianity, in most of its forms.

Jesus was a social, cultural, and political revolutionary, the author writes, and an apocalyptic one at that. Eagleton’s theology posits a true follower of the Nazarene carpenter must live out the Truth of God: love and mercy; justice and compassion. Eagleton believes understanding and accepting that the holy truth message left Jesus a flayed and bloody scapegoat of Calvary is central to living in faith.

Eagleton writes plainly, but his arguments are a tightly knit garment woven from threads of mysticism and strands of liberation theology. The book is an adaptation of lectures he gave at the invitation of Yale University as part of the Dwight Harrington Terry Foundation Lectures on Religion in the Light of Science and Philosophy. It is presented in four parts: The Scum of the Earth; The Revolution Betrayed; Faith and Reason; Culture and Barbarism. The author joined good company, for the Terry lectures have featured Paul Tillich, Erich Fromm, and Carl G. Jung among others.

Eagleton is a literary critic, but his style here incorporates the unsheathed blade that entertains us when CSPAN televises the activities of the British House of Commons. That can occasionally come across as too witty by half, as if the author might be extending a point merely to inflict one more cut. Deep into Eagleton’s argument, the appellation of “Ditchkins” even begins to wear on a reader, becoming almost a schoolyard taunt.

Despite its slim size, the book is inordinately thick with intellectual concepts. Eagleton sees Jesus as the divine presence of God on earth, and he preaches Christ’s message in a tightly reasoned liberation theology-cum-socialism. Much of the author’s argument requires the reader to stop, re-read, and even close the book in contemplation. The power, complexity, and originality of Eagleton’s apologia will find an eager audience only among the intelligent, the open-minded, and the curious.

This is especially so when a reader is confronted with matters such as Eagleton’s view of the truth of the Christ’s life and message.

The New Testament is a brutal destroyer of human illusions. If you follow Jesus and don’t end up dead, it appears you have some explaining to do. The stark signifier of the human condition is one who spoke up for love and justice and was done to death for his pains.

With that, the reader finds the heart of Eagleton’s argument, albeit one few fundamentalists or evangelicals or Protestants or Mass-attending Catholics or Eastern Orthodox will share. Why? Because Eagleton seems to show little concern for a Jesus who walked on water or turned water to wine. Eagleton sees Jesus and his revolutionary message of love and justice as miracle enough, especially when compared to Hitchens’s and Dawkins’s faith in mankind’s progress through the mechanics of secular humanism, the great machine that produces antibiotics and stem-cell research, the integrated circuit and the internet, free speech and assembly and racial integration.

And Auschwitz.

He refers to Hitchens and Dawkins as “ ... astonishingly tight-lipped about the cock-ups and catastrophes of science ... “

One of the more straightforward and closely reasoned arguments against the liberal establishment’s position that Islam (as a religion) is at war with the Enlightenment.

“It is rather that, without the vast concentration camp known as the Gaza Strip, it is not all out of the question that the Twin Towers would still be standing.”

Eagleton then traces anti-western sentiments to the CIA’s part in bringing the shah to power in Iran and to our support for Wahhabbi feudalism in the Arabic pennisula. Why? Perhaps we can point to a colonial-like search for raw material and markets.

“Advanced capitalism is inherently agnostic ... Modern market societies tend to be secular, relativist, pragmatic, and materialistic.”

This side of the Atlantic we add religion to the mix whenever we want to spice up an argument. Evolution? Intelligent design? Is it a baby or simply a fetus? Eagleton thinks little of that sort thing.

“This brand of piety is horrified at the sight of a female breast but considerably less appalled by the obscene inequalities between rich and poor.”

For me, the most difficult segment was “Faith and Reason.” I quickly grasped his argument that atheists and agnostics have too much faith in reason; or to state it conversely, reason requires faith. But then Eagleton presents a thesis that God is “not a possible object of cognition,” and “that faith is for most part performative rather than propositional.”

Does that mean that we prove God exists by acting in love and compassion, justice and mercy? The issue is further dissected when the author discusses “knowledge” and “belief,” and suggests the “reduction of belief to positive knowledge” destroys the truths to be found in faith.

Readers interested in He Who Was Before the Big Bang and She Who Lives Beyond the Universe’s Edge will find the author’s work is erudite and powerful and will profit from reading and thinking about his thesis.