November 17th marks three special days for me, which few people remember.

First (actually last in chronological order of occurrence), CEI Engineering Associates, Inc. moved into our new building on Nov 17, 2000. I remember the circumstances. It was a Friday. The recount battle was raging in Florida. The movers came in the morning to load up our already packed boxes. My stuff was loaded first in our department, and I think our department was the first loaded on that truck. While loading continued for the 5 mile trip across town, the department went to lunch, then to the new building to wait. I spent much time in the car, listening to radio reports of what was going on in Florida, coming into the building every hour or so to see if my stuff had arrived. It didn’t arrive until Saturday morning; yet I was all set up and ready to go by Monday morning. No one at CEI marked the day but me, I reckon. I mentioned it to the Chairman and co-founder, and he didn’t remember that was the date we moved in.

Second (actually first in chronological order of occurrence), it’s Sadie Hawkins Day! That magical day created by Li’l Abner comic strip writer Al Capp, where the girls ask the boys out. Now that Al Capp is dead and Li’l Abner forgotten, no one probably ever celebrates it anymore, save for the odd school that has a Sadie Hawkins Day dance where the girls ask the boys out, with no one knowing where the tradition came from. This actually was of no consequence in my life, for the schools I went to never had Sadie Hawkins Day dances, and even if they had no girl would have asked me out. I was a considerably late bloomer with the ladies.

Third (actually second in chronological order of, not occurrence necessarily, but personal recognition), it is National Boise Idaho Potato Day! I have no idea of the origin of this ‘holiday’, or if it ever really existed at one time, or if it did exist if it was celebrated on November 17th. But a friend of mine from college and I celebrated it, somewhat as a gag I suppose. I remember a day close to November 17, 1973, when Gary and I went for a ramshackle* in the recently harvested potato fields west of the University of Rhode Island campus in Kingston. We gleaned a few small potatoes from the field, then continued west into the country before turning north. We passed and inspected a small, ancient cemetery, overgrown with weeds and brush, the graves dating from the 1700s. We continued north and hiked up a hill that was visible from campus and which we always wanted to climb; part of the ‘coal seams’ oriented generally north to south (and slightly to the west) across that part of the state, Gary said, though you couldn’t prove it by me. The hill was completely wooded, and we had no vantage point to see anything. I think Gary climbed one of the trees to try to see better. We worked our way back to campus, I don’t remember by what route, or what time we got there, or if I had to work at the Burger Chef that night or not.

Just a bunch of college silliness, continued into our 50s. Gary and I exchanged e-mail felicitations this morning, remembering not really the day but the era, college days in the early 70s, for me on a planet long ago in a galaxy far, far away, though remembered as if it were yesterday. I post this mainly so that should anyone type “National Boise Idaho Potato Day” in a search engine, at least this post will pop up.

*Author’s note: The dictionaries available to me don’t show the definition, but I’m pretty sure we used the word “ramshackle” to refer to a long, country walk with a loose aim as to destination and route. Perhaps my ramshackle mind is mis-remembering.

This last Saturday the Lutheran church closest to us hosted a seminar featuring Professor Dr. Paul L. Maier. Dr. Maier is professor of ancient history at Western Michigan University. He is the author of a number of books, both fiction and non-fiction. The one of his I read was Flames Of Rome, a documentary historical fiction about the early church era following events in the book of Acts. Well, I think it covered more than just that time, but Maier’s purpose was to give some perspective to the years following Acts.

That was an excellent book, and I’ve always wanted to read more of his. Another of his that we had was A Skeleton In God’s Closet, a novel. Our son has it, and I don’t know if we’ll ever get it back. Maier has written some academic books as well, such as an abridgement/translation of the works of Josephus, and a modern translation of the church history written by Eusebius. We bought that one on Saturday, as well as Maier’s sequel novel More Than A Skeleton. These are pretty far down the reading pile right now, but I’ll eventually get to them.

Maier’s seminar topic was Martin Luther and the Protestant Reformation. Working only from an outline that he gave to the class, Maier gave us 4 1/2 hours of informed, animated, interesting lecture. My is he a good speaker! I realize he has probably given this lecture before, and knows it quite well, but still the presentation was just incredible.

Most of us have studied some of the Reformation in school, and our Protestant churches may say a little bit each year on Reformation Sunday. But detailed information is generally lacking in most of our education and experience. I read a biography about Luther, from our public library, about ten years ago, but it didn’t stick with me very well. Consequently, some of what Maier said was familiar, but most of it was like new material. I think I understand what Luther went through, just how much danger he was in, and how much he truly accomplished.

As a side note, the lecture included some thoughts of how the printing press helped to fuel the rapid dispersal of information. This kind of confirms thoughts behind a book I’ve been planning to write. Unfortunately, it’s way, way down the writing list, which is tossed aside right now while life gives no time for writing. Oh, well, retirement is now only 8 years, 1 month, and 26 days away, assuming our elected officials don’t screw it all up in the meantime.

If you have a chance to hear Dr. Maier lecture, don’t pass it up. Consider reading his books. I don’t think you will be disappointed.

Pamela Tudsbury, in Herman Wouk’s excellent novel The Winds of War, said, “Some moments weigh against a life time.”

I have found her (or rather his) words to be true in life in general and in my life in particular. Those moments probably are not recognizable at the time. Well, some are. Death and destruction, such as the 9/11 attacks on the USA or the death of a loved one, are obvious, but other moments aren’t. In the novel, Pamela and Victor Henry were talking about a moment that had happened some days or weeks before.

On Wednesday I may have had such a moment. I recognized it instantly, though I’m waiting to see if I’m right or not. Consequently, I may be silent here for a while.

At the Ridgecrest conference, the culture gap was again hammered home by a couple of classes I attended. In a class about writing “curriculum” for small group studies, all the examples shown were videos with a little bit of writing in a book; the intent being to watch the video and discuss it, using a few simple questions from the book. The videos were the typical run-from-scene-to-scene, or shot to shot, with almost no time spent on any one shot. No time to focus on what is being said, to absorb the points made. Just run, run, run. One video-based study we spent a little time viewing was The Trouble With Paris. We watched the first five minutes, which was totally unmemorable to me. I think the on-camera narrator said something about our culture being a problem, but the study title was not explained. After watching, our class instructor said Paris referred not to Paris, France, but to Paris Hilton, as a symbol of what’s wrong with our culture. Funny thing was, the video itself seemed to me a symbol of what I don’t like with the trend in the culture. I immediately decided this was Gen-X stuff, and I can’t write it.

Another class was on fiction writing. The instructor, talking about the importance of conflict in the modern novels, said, “Knock your hero down with angst, then shovel angst all over him.” Later, I talked with this same instructor in an informal setting, and mentioned I liked best the sagas, such as written by James Michener and Herman Wouk. He said, “You and three other people.” They won’t sell. A novel over 100,000 words won’t sell. We live in a TV culture world, and books have to compete with American Idol, Survivor (another show I’ve never watched), Lost, etc. The population at large has fewer readers than we used to, as a percentage of population. Words aren’t enough to captivate the mind. We must now have fast-paced visuals as well, and more of that than of words. Don’t let description crowd out dialogue. Don’t let dialogue crowd out conflict and angst.

I suppose every generation decries the culture of the next, and I’m no different. All this stuff saddens me. It seems like the culture has been coarsened by television and the Internet. More and more I find myself further and further away from the mainstream in America. I once wrote a poem that included this couplet:

for I, I must with sorrow state
was born two centuries too late.

More than ever I think that is true. Maybe not really 200 years, but at least fifty.

I leave most writers conferences, after some initial time of wondering “why am I here” with a feeling of “I can do this.” Then, a week later I realize what “this” is. It means writing things I don’t particularly like to read just to get published. It’s a form of prostitution. I guess I’ll have to think about it some more.