Tuesday, December 25, 2007

The Book’s Out!

If anybody would like a copy of And Now, Michiana Chronicles, the fresh-off-the-press anthology of radio essays by the writers featured here and on WVPE every Friday, give the radio station a call at 1-888-399-9873 or email IU South Bend’s for your purchase.  You’ll get 60 of the best essays from this Edward R. Murrow award-winning series.

Broadcast by Michiana Chronicles on December 25, 2007
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Friday, May 09, 2008

True to Type

Probably like you, our family talks a lot about books. We talk about what we are reading, what we have read, what we’ve read about reading (God bless the Sunday New York Times Book Review section!) and what we are planning to read next. Standing in front of the bookcase, my daughter-in-law, Nancy, and I were having one of those discussions. I think that she was holding Bobbie Ann Mason’s Clear Springs; she flipped to the back and saw the page that tells which font was used in printing the book and a bit of history about that font.

Nancy said, “I can’t believe that they waste a page putting that in there. Nobody cares about that!”

Danger!  A big, evil-mother-in-law-trap just waiting to ensnare me there! Recognizing it in time, I pulled the shreds of my seldom-worn garment of tact around myself and did not blurt out, “Are you nuts! That’s a great thing! I love it when they put that in! It’s like frosting on a cookie; it makes it ever so much better!”

I didn’t say it then, but it does matter, it matters to anyone who ever has had trouble reading a sign because of difficult lettering, and it matters to me. I’m hard-wired to think about fonts. I have no clue why, but my father, a pretty constant reader himself, had some books on lettering and typography, and I used to lie on my stomach in front of the fire and thumb through them when I was a child. In the Southern way of keeping things in the family by passing them on, I now own those books. One of them has an introduction by Frederic Goudy (All of you who have ever scrolled through the font list on your computer will recognize that name.) and my father’s name and the date of purchase written near the front in his neat, round, fountain-pen-produced script.

That early interest in lettering led me to absolutely love classes in layout and design (The discussions of serif versus sans serif were endlessly fascinating: leads-the-eye, as opposed to clean and no-frills. You can have knock-down, drag-out fights over that one!), purchase lots of additional fonts for my computer (Merchandisers see me coming!), fantasize about working for a printer, and save every font-related cartoon that I came across: admittedly a small collection. (Did you see the “Fox Trot” where the kid’s computer queries him about performing spell-checking, grammar-checking and style-checking, then it declares that Helvetica is “so ugly” that it will not permit the kid to print his book report?)

So, when Larry, in the mode of a good research assistant, announced to me a couple of years ago that “Helvetica” the movie, was coming to a theatre near me, I was ready to go. Wow! A whole film about a font! How cool was that! Time had flown and Helvetica was 50 already. Time to celebrate! We arrived at the screening and the auditorium was full. Imagine! That many people not only were willing, but had paid money, to watch a full-length film about a font. And, no kidding, after the film, they gave us snacks: frosted cookies decorated with letters spelling out, in the aggregate, “Helvetica:” in the appropriate font, naturally.

Font, along with stock, and hardbound versus paperbound all are things that can make reading just that much more pleasurable. Knowledgeable and true book-lovers, Phillip and William at Erasmus Books, will take the time to discuss not only the content, but also the physical characteristics of books with you. For some of us, it’s close to dying and eating frosted cookies forever.

Think of it like dinner. A few years ago, there was an airline advertisement that featured a flight attendant coming along the aisle – this was back when there was food service on flights – saying, “Slap some cuisine onto your plate?” Consider that “cuisine slapped onto your plate,” versus a dinnertime presentation where there is arrangement and garnish on a lovely piece of china that just invites you into the experience; you look at the plate and think, “Oooohh.” Works the same way with a book. Though it was over 40 years ago, my first receipt of a leather-bound book in a slipcase remains a clear memory that awakens my senses: the feel, the smell, the visual beauty of the gold stamping on the leather binding, the sound as I turned the thin-but-opaque, gilt-edged leaves, the elegant, clear print, those all made the getting of a gift just that much better!

In times when we do not have to live like barbarians, but have the opportunity to experience the luxury of the frosted cookie, why not have it! It makes it ever so much better.

Friday, May 02, 2008

Jump Ball at the Hoosier Primary

I can’t believe it! At long last, Indiana matters during the national campaign season. We’re in the news every day. We Hoosiers have been crafty, too, not tipping our hand as to whom we favor. We’ve made Indiana a real battleground state, forcing the candidates to pour ad dollars into our communities in a despairing sort of Vegas binge. Here in the second congressional district, we’re a battleground within a battleground.

And permit me to announce loudly that I’m an “undecided voter.” You guessed it: a battleground within a battleground within a battleground, the center of a political universe in which not knowing what you want makes you royalty.

“Sorry, Mrs. Clinton, I have dinner plans with Obama tonight.”

“Oh, dinner was great, Mr. Obama, but Saturday’s simply out of the question. Hillary’s taking me bowling. And then we’re doing dollar shots.”

I say “dollar shots” and not martinis because I’m what the pundits have taken to calling a “downscale voter,” by which they mean a Wal-Mart shopper, although it could also mean that along with my buying power, my sense of self-worth and hope for the future have been downscaled over the last seven years, making me a bitter white man.

Therefore, I can lure Clinton while playing hard to get with Obama. But I keep Clinton guessing, too, because I’m also, paradoxically, an upscale voter, not because I’m rich, but because I have elitist tastes that, unfortunately, I can’t afford to indulge.

Well, all of this attention would be very sweet indeed, were it not for the fact that – after Pennsylvania – people everywhere, even in the wild-dog-pack media, are exhausted. Here we are at the dead-end of a sacrificial Democratic campaign, and the fact is (let’s face it) the coastal media consider Indiana the Midwestern joke state, like Idaho in the West and Mississippi in the South. Remember how the Maryland, D.C., and Virginia primaries were affectionately dubbed the Potomac Primaries? No one has even bothered to notice that Indiana and North Carolina make up what should be called the Basketball Primaries. The media seems to resent our new-found importance.

My great fear is that Wednesday morning, when this is all over, the rest of the country will wake up and say, “Well, that was a huge waste of time!” They say we’re a crucial state, but that’s what they said about Pennsylvania, and before the night was out everyone was saying it didn’t matter.

So, here’s the plan, something to keep us in the limelight. If you plan to vote in the Democratic primary, link up with another voter, and one of you vote for Clinton, the other for Obama – you know, regardless of which candidate you actually prefer. The only way to remain relevant is to stay undecided and to push this competition into overtime. This is important to me. Right now, when I make that 3 a.m. phone call, both candidates pick up right away, because they need my vote. It has been so wonderful that I can no longer bear to think of how things used to be, when I was ignored and shunned while my friend across the way in Michigan was being wined and dined and wrote to me every day to tell me how great it was to be loved.

Hoosiers need love, too!

Broadcast by Joe Chaney on May 02, 2008
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Friday, April 18, 2008

Doing Algebra

I’m doing quite a bit of algebra these days, helping our young mathematician solve homework problems. I last took algebra from Mr. Webb way back in the year 19-mumble-mumble, when President Nixon was still lovingly adding names to his enemies list. My strongest memory from Mr. Webb’s class was that he never learned his students’ names.  He called everyone Babe. No matter who you were, he’d say, “Babe, put the next problem on the board. Thanks, Babe.” But he must have been a pretty good teacher, because after a quick refresher I can solve a basic problem.  And so for the moment I still have a role to play in our teen’s life.

That role is called factoring. You know: through factoring, 4x + 4 becomes 4 times (x + 1).  This week I relearned how to factor the difference of two squares: x² - 16y², that sort of thing. Silly me, I thought the difference of two squares surely must be the traits that allow a person to distinguish one math teacher from another. Now you may wonder if I was one of those kids in the back row who asked Mr. Webb why algebra was worth learning. Well, I’m not going to tell you. I will admit that a “why is this worth learning” gene has been passed on to the next generation of our little clan.

Anyway, as we work on algebra, a pattern emerges. I check the work and sometimes I say, this solution has an error.  Maybe our scholar doesn’t see it, and points to a similar solution in the class notes, and starts simmering.  A little steam rises from the stylish young hair style. Explain the steps to me, I say. More pointing. Tell me how it’s supposed to work, I say. Don’t give up.

Pretty soon the sheet is covered with x to the 2nds and y’s to the 4th and eraser crumbs. Each correction floats up out of the smudge of previous work.  I start to pity the weary eyes of the math teacher.  Maybe Mr. Webb called us all Babe because our homework had made him blind.

Eventually, if neither of us surrenders, we have the basic method in place, something you could memorize if you don’t mind not really knowing what you’re doing.  Now, I say, tell me why this method works.  More steam, more pointing, perhaps, but we talk through the reason, and then we have a method that we both understand.  The next few problems solidify what we’ve learned.

Then the textbook switches to a new kind of problem, and we’re back to the eraser crumbs and smudges. Explain how it works, I say. Explain why. And we pick up speed.  While my offspring learns algebra, I’m constructing an obvious little theory about learning. I see learning as a progression from rote memory to knowing how and onto knowing why, with the real power accumulating fast in the last stage, when you know why.  That’s cool, as we used to say in Nixon’s day, when we weren’t busy questioning authority.

I saw in the New York Times that an ancient Greek technical manuscript was recently translated, and there, scrawled like graffiti in the margin of the text, was the same question young people are still asking today: “Why is this worth learning?” Is there a good answer to that question?  Most people would probably say that you take algebra in order to go to college and get yourself a place in the middle class.  For some people, it’s a step toward a math-oriented career. Some people find mathematics beautiful. Thanks to my recent experience, I have a new answer to the age-old question. Why is algebra worth learning?  So that later on you can help your own kids learn algebra, and eventually they’ll do the same for their kids. It’s the great cycle of life.

Broadcast by Ken Smith on April 18, 2008
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Joe Chaney -- The Chronicles Caper / Diversity and Dialogue / The Call of the Sandhill Cranes / A Confession / Showing Your Goat / Remembering Europe / Working for the Minimum Wage / More essays by Joe

Louise Collins -- Flora vs. Fauna / In Search of Beauty at the Bolshoi Ballet / A Turkey Tale / Where Are You From? / Got Milk? / Geocaching in Spring / Ice-Carving in St. Joseph / More essays by Louise

April Lidinsky -- Going Bananas / Harry Potter’s Coming to Town / Where the Floods Carry Us / Shampooing the Mouse / Mind Games / Digging Dirt / Everyday Olympians / More essays by April

Jonathan Nashel -- Notre Dame Welcomes the Queen of Cool / George W. Bush Comes to South Bend / George W. Bush, the Movie / Life is Beautiful / Why Morphine is Overrated / Hitting the Road / God Bless Indiana / More essays by Jonathan

Jeff Nixa -- Humor in the Hospital / A Green Witch / Bad Neighborhood / Chair Massage / Valentine’s Night / Real Estate Physiology / Inner City Bike Repair / More essays by Jeff

Ken Smith -- Do Not Call / At the Blood Bank / Modern Sex Education / The Morning after Valentine’s Day / Beer, Billboards, and Activism / The Last Morning of Summer / Fossil Park / More essays by Ken

Jeanette Saddler Taylor -- True to Type / Chronicling Michiana / Patrick Henry in the Marching Band /