Friday Five: Summer Reading

Songbird over at RevGalBlogPals says:

Back in the day, before I went to seminary, I worked in the Children's Room at the Public Library, and every year we geared up for Summer Reading. Children would come in and record the books read over the summer, and the season included numerous special and celebratory events. As a lifelong book lover and enthusiastic summer reader, I find I still accumulate a pile of books for the summer.

This week, then, a Summer Reading Friday Five.

1) Do you think of summer as a particularly good season for reading? Why or why not?
The main reason it's good for me now is that the daylight lasts longer and I like best to read by natural light. Otherwise I read pretty much equally all year round.

2) Have you ever fallen asleep reading on the beach?
Not that I recall. I'm not much of a lier on the beach anyway and lots of sun is not my skin's friend. In fact I don't usually read lying down anywhere.

3) Can you recall a favorite childhood book read in the summertime?
Pride and Prejudice, which I read for the first time during a summer reading program when I was 10. I get a lot more out of it each time I reread it but I enjoyed it even then.

4) Do you have a favorite genre for light or relaxing reading?
I read mysteries all the time, but sometimes to be really relaxed I like to read romance novels by Katie fforde and Erica James, or even better -- Miss Read. It's like a vacation in the Cotswolds!

5) What is the next book on your reading list?
Not sure. I brought with me (on vacation to Minneapolis) Alan Furst's new book The Spies of Warsaw; Charles Todd's A Pale Horse; and Michael Connelly's Black Ice. So it will be one of those. When I get home, I'll be reading the next RevGalBlogPals book discussion book (the one about the Christian, the Moslem and the Jew who meet to discuss their faiths.) Looking forward to it!

Common phrases and what they really mean

"Your call is important to us" -- but not important enough to hire enough people at the call center to answer it in a timely manner.

"With all due respect" -- with no respect at all.

"For your convenience" -- for our convenience, we will not do whatever it takes to make things convenient for you, the customer.

"We are no longer able to" -- we do not choose to (for instance, validate parking ramp fees).

That's all I can think of right now, as I sit on hold at Major ISP waiting to reset my webmail password so I can check email a few times on our trip to the Midwest. I wouldn't be quite so whiny except that I was on hold for 20 minutes, the phone rang, someone said "Thank you for calling Major ISP" and then the line went dead. So now I'm on hold for the second time.

GRRRR!

My Alphabet: B is for Berlin

After a very long hiatus, I'm finally returning to My Alphabet. I fear I may never get past the letter B! (And how many of us can say those words without hearing this:
)

But I digress. Today, meine Damen und Herren, we shall discuss Berlin -- or West Berlin, as it was known when I was stationed there 36 years ago.

Onkel Hankie Pants and I got married while I was already under orders to join the Transportation Division, Berlin Brigade, as a Russian interpreter on the "duty train," and after a short honeymoon, he returned to Fort Ord, California, and I went to McGuire AFB in New Jersey, thence to Rhein-Main AFB in Frankfurt, Germany, and from there to Berlin, landing at the now-disused Tempelhof Airport. As soon as I began attending orientation sessions, I started hearing "Berlin is unique." (Sometimes, alas, "very unique.")

From the end of World War II to the end of the Cold War, Berlin was an alert, colorful, claustrophobic, frenetic island of Western-ness in the grey sea of Communist East Germany (henceforth the DDR - Deutsche Demokratische Republik.) The Berlin Airlift of 1948-49, the building of the Wall in 1961, JFK's "Ich bin ein Berliner" speech, the heartbreaking escape attempts which usually ended badly, and finally the tearing down of the Wall -- Berlin was in the news a lot for those 40+ years. Now it's again the capital of a united Germany, taking its place with all the other European capitals. I wonder if it misses all the extra attention?

To explain my job and the reasons for its existence, here's a nice concise description -- much better than I could come up with. At the time I was there, there were four civilian interpreters (German nationals) and three military ones. The civilians were guaranteed a certain number of trips each month, and the other two Sp/4s and I filled in the gaps. Hence, there were many nights I didn't have to work at all. I had a lot of time to write and read letters! I lived in a barracks near the hospital off Unter den Eichen; most of the other women on my floor were medics (as were the other residents of the building) on split shifts, so there was a certain amount of disagreement about how loud one could play music when coming off shift if others were sleeping....But in general it wasn't bad, I could walk to work and there was a nice little library on the kaserne.

While we were stopped at Marienborn and the train commander and I were displaying the manifests, orders, passports and IDs to the Soviet officer, our MPs were carrying out some unofficial (and probably illegal) duties. They would exchange Ostmarks for uniform items with the Soviet soldiers on duty. The Russian guys were poorly paid in comparison and were only too willing to exchange their winter hats, uniform belts, etc. for money to spend at the Gasthaus. We could change money fairly easily in Berlin. So, the MPs would wrap the money around a cake of the truly horrible soap that was provided on the train, secure it with a rubber band, and toss it to the waiting Soviet on the platform. Back would come a Shapka (Russian fur hat) or a thick leather belt with a hammer-and-sickle buckle. I often wonder what the Soviets' quartermaster thought about all the "lost" or "worn-out" hats and belts. I used to have (actually OHP had) one of the belts, but no longer. Either SonShineIn or one of my nephews got it, I think.

Of course my best memories of Berlin are of the times when Onkel Hankie Pants joined me there, at Christmas and after he was discharged from the Army in June '73. Both times we stayed in Apartments-Hotel on Clayallee in the Dahlem district near the Grunewald. It was across the street from the PX, commissary and other U.S. facilities, but was German owned. We had a large living room, an alcove bed with German featherbed, a bathroom and a small kitchen. Here's the bill for our Christmas stay:
At this time the dollar was worth DM3.2018. We were about to receive a pay increase, retroactive to October, to $369.90 per month (each). It was well worth the cost to spend some time together and be able to have our first Christmas tree and Christmas dinner.

Some of the things I remember from our Christmas and summer in Berlin:

• visiting Schloss Charlottenburg and the Emperor's famous collection of snuffboxes;
  
• seeing Nefertiti;
• having Kaffee oder Tee at local cafes;
  
• going to movies at the Post Theater, one was Kidnapped with Michael Caine and Donald Pleasence;
  
• attending the Lutheran American Church in Berlin;
  
• seeing the Ku'damm and the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtniskirche, eating at "Karoline's Danische Kase Kiste" (Caroline's Danish Cheesebox -- Onkel Hankie Pants thought this was pretty funny), and trying to cure my bronchitis with hot toddies
  
• visiting the Tiergarten (Zoo)
• meeting up with my cousin and his Berlin-born wife and her cousin (a Berlin cop) at the local Kneipe, where there were newspapers on sticks and old men playing cards
• drinking Berliner-Weisse -- a very pale beer with a shot of raspberry syrup -- don't knock it till you've tried it!

A couple of photos we took there:

Left: The Siegessaule
Right: The Soviet War Memorial






I also recall the painfully short days of winter -- when I would come home in the dark, go to sleep, and when I awoke it would be dark again -- and the very long days of summer, when dawn came about 3:30 am. The mysterious S-Bahn (streetcars) which we weren't allowed to ride on, and the posters reminding us to "Denk an die Bruder in der Zone" (think of those in the Communist Zone).

Ja, naturlich -- Ich hab' noch einen Koffer in Berlin.


Viewing and reading suggestions (more welcomed, just post in comments): Cabaret, of course, or its dramatic and short story predecessors, I Am a Camera and Berlin Stories (Christopher Isherwood). Ariana Franklin's mystery, City of Shadows. Leon Uris's historical epic, Armageddon. The Spy Who Came In From the Cold by John LeCarre, and The Quiller Memorandum by Adam Hall, are two spy stories set there.

I'm blogging a lot today because day after tomorrow we are heading for the Upper Midwest and my opportunities will be fewer there both for computer access and time, since we have lots of friends and family to see and not very long to do it. I'll try to be less verbose in future (but no promises!)

A few farewells in the arts

I heard from Onkel Hankie Pants the other day that U. Utah Phillips had died a couple of months ago. This was a great loss to the folk music and activist communities. Long ago, back in 1979, we saw him at a Twin Cities Folk Festival and have never forgotten it. Later I bought one of his albums, which includes this piece:(Warning: a little rough language)


If you can get hold of the Priscilla Herdman album Darkness into Light, listen to her sing "I Remember Loving You" with Utah Phillips. Never fails to make me cry.

Then the other day I saw in the paper that Tasha Tudor has gone to her reward. One of the first books in my now-extensive collection of Christmas books was her Take Joy! which gave us many hours of reading-aloud-and-looking-at-the-pictures when the children were young.

Today there were two deaths announced -- one of a person and one of a theater. George Carlin died. He's one of the few comedians I've ever seen in person, once when I was visiting my old college roommate and her then-spouse in Oakland. We went to some big auditorium and heard the famous "Seven Words" bit, and others. Years later you could have knocked me over with a feather when George Carlin showed up as the host on "Shining Time Station."

And I was much saddened to see the demise of Theatre de la Jeune Lune.
Whether it was a victim of the economy, mismanagement, changing artistic visions, or whatever -- it will be missed. I've seen several productions there over the years, but the one that sticks in my mind (I may have written about it before) was THE NIGHTINGALE, which we saw as a family in December '90 or January '91. Based on tales of Hans Christian Andersen, featuring gospel singer Eddie Robinson as the nightingale, magical costumes and sets -- it's definitely at the top of my Top Ten Theater Performances of All Time.

Truly, art is long, but life is short.

Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose*

*(Sorry about the missing diacritical marks, Blogger won't take them.)
Over the past 5 years and a bit, there's a song from 40 years back that pops into my head fairly regularly. While searching YouTube for something else, I discovered that there's an updated version. I don't usually get into politics and world affairs too much on this blog, but this time I couldn't resist. Warning: these are quite well-done videos, but some of the images are harrowing and not for small children.
Here's the original version:

The last lines refer to Lyndon Johnson's statement in October 1964 (Paxton used a little poetic license there) that "We are not about to send American boys nine or ten thousand miles away from home to do what Asian boys ought to be doing for themselves."
And here's the update:


Now, although I was cheering just as loudly as anyone on campus that night (March 31, 1968) when he announced that he would not run again for President, I have a soft spot for old LBJ. I think of him as a tragic figure in American history -- deeply flawed as a human being, but someone who could have been one of our greatest presidents but for the Vietnam War. I don't think that's the case with Bush 43 and that's all I'm going to say about that.

The three Presidents about whom I've read the most books are Theodore Roosevelt, Franklin D. Roosevelt, and Lyndon Johnson. I'd recommend Doris Kearns Goodwin's Lyndon Johnson and the American Dream, Robert Caro's three-volume biography (so far), or Robert Dallek's volumes (though I've only read the first one, Lone Star Rising) for insights into what made LBJ who he was.

And I leave you with one last song -- which says about the same thing as this post's title (tr: The more things change, the more they remain the same).

Crummy Church Signs: So that's what happened to the Jerky Boys...

Crummy Church Signs: So <i>that's</i> what happened to the Jerky Boys...
This one made me laugh so hard that I couldn't vocalize (Sisterfilms and Cordeliaknits will know what I mean).

Down Memory Lane

OK, couldn't resist. Here are some of the songs I associate with the summer of '66. Some may have come out earlier, but they were still showing up on car radios and clock radios that summer.
I'm not sure we heard too much more from The Cyrkle, although "Turn-Down Day" is also one I remember. Maybe their hair was just too short. A lot of people have covered this song, but this is the one that was playing back then:


In those days, one actually heard songs from Broadway musicals on Top 40 radio. Here's the one we were hearing that summer, although I couldn't find the late Robert Goulet's version; we'll have to "make do" with Bryn Terfel.


That summer was my first experience as a regular city bus rider, certainly not my last. Alas, when it rained I didn't meet a nice young man, I had to make do with my host's Harvard golf umbrella (nice and big though!) Anyway, that's probably why this song stuck with me. The video is newer but the audio is the classic version.


And here's one that I remember more clearly from the last couple of months of high school, but which was probably still getting airtime come summer. Yes, this kind of music got played then too.


Anybody else from my misspent youth want to chime in with some other suggestions?