Dark Days Ahead

It is election season... still. Things aren't looking good for the energetic, progressive sweep of two years ago. We are a people easily disillusioned, easily swayed. The opinions of the great masses can't stand up to the realization that recovery of such magnitude takes decades, not moments- regardless of who is in charge. There are no magic bullet, just hard work in our future. It just promises to take longer and be more unpleasant when the ones that have taken no responsibility for the mess (for which every one is responsible) have shluffed it off on someone else, wiped their hands on expensive sets of slack and gone about the business of distracting this country into a tizzy. Depressing, but a good reason to read.

Both my mom and I, who share more personality traits than either of us likes to admit, love falling into a good book. Good is a relative term of course. Momma wouldn't know a great novel if it hit her on the head and I try to avoid them unless I want people to see me reading them. We like a book that gets you invested, messes with your sleep, sucks you in and takes over your life. We like those books that gain control over good sense... the ones that make you pick the longest line in the grocery store, so you can steal a few pages while waiting. Sometimes (not often), we agree on these books and talk about the characters as if they are real people at the dinner table, while my sister rolls her eyes and my niece asks questions about fictitious apparitions of the mind like they are cousins she might one day meet.

Fall is already promising a long, dark winter. We have both been relatively unsuccessful in finding "good" books as of late and are depressed by it, constantly asking the other what they have dug up. I want to get lost, stumble around in somebody else's mind for a while. It really is the ultimate form of voyeurism... to plop down in the middle of someone's life, learn their secrets and their fears without having to reveal your own. And then somehow, inexplicably, you tie your worries to them, wonder where they are now, what has happened to them. It is a wonderful trick these writers have. I'm not talking about the F. Scotts and Faulkners of the world, the proud historians of American life, but the trashrag authors in the trenches filling pages with... well, trash, commonness... but have this ability to create worlds that transcend that line between real and make believe. It is a rare gift to create something from nothing.

I look forward to finding it again. I know I will soon. I'll let you know when I do.

Not a book review...

If you are going to criticize me for my job, all I ask is that you have an original thought about organized labor.

I’m not going to even to mention the fact that when you barely know a person, it is considered rude to begin by criticizing an issue to which they have obviously dedicated their life. I don’t mention the inhuman and un-American labor practices of Wal-Mart on our first meeting when you tell me you work as the manager of my least favorite big box retail store. I don’t say that I believe the Catholic Church is misguided in its dogma and has caused more suffering in the name of Jesus Christ that any other institution when you tell me you lead the women’s group at the local Parish on Tuesday nights until we have at least shared a drink together.

But please… have just one original idea about why labor unions should be banished from the Earth and do not regurgitate the same old, lifeless, illiterate arguments that I have heard nearly every day of my life since I was old enough to get tossed in the back of a cruiser for throwing rocks at trucks that crossed the picket line.

For ease of operations, I have broken these “arguments” into three categories:

Labor unions were probably necessary at one time, but we don’t need them today.

This is probably my favorite, simply because the person is attempting to placate me. Hey, if you were doing this work seventy years ago I would have totally supported it… now, you are just irrelevant. Thanks, I appreciate the ‘Atta Boy.

To begin with, here are some things labor unions have done since 1959:

Helped pass the Equal Pay Act of 1963, Civil Rights Act of 1964, Age Discrimination in Employment Act (ADEA) of 1967, Pregnancy Discrimination Act of 1974, Americans with Disability Act (ADA) of 1990

Help pass, spent union dollars advocating for and in some cases helped draft the 1966, 1974, 1977,1985, 1989, 1996 and 2007 amendments (we don’t take any credit for 2004) to the Fair Labor Standards Act (think minimum wage and overtime)

Instrumental to the passage of the Family and Medical Leave Act (FMLA) in 1993 and have advocated in several states, cities and other municipalities for the passage of sick leave coverage for workers

Creation of OSHA in 1974

Took large strains off Medicaid, Medicare, the Social Security Administration, Veteran’s Affairs, local food pantries and charitable organizations from the 1960s to present (though decreasing in recent years with the reduction of union density) due to use of short and long term disability plans, defined benefit plans (both in the private and public sectors), and health insurance coverage for retirees created, enforced and guaranteed in collective bargaining agreements

All prevailing wage laws, unemployment compensation and workers’ compensation laws

Increased the standard of living for all workers, union and non-union alike, creation of the 40 hour work week, the weekend, overtime, break time, lunch breaks, environmental and safety standards, oh.. and a little thing we like to call employer paid health care

Union membership in the U.S. declined by 21.1% during the last decade, giving the US one of the lowest levels of unionization among industrialized countries. You think it is coincidence that employer paid health care and retirement plans are under attack? Wait another decade sitting on your hands and see if you can afford to go to the doctor or stop working before you die.

Labor unions kill the free market.

I love me some capitalism. I am an American after all. But the free market is amoral. It cares for neither good nor bad- it is merely a tool. And news flash- people can manipulate the free market and there are some bad, greedy people out there… making the free market a bad, greedy tool to serve their bad, greedy needs.

Capitalism without a counterbalance, whether that be regulation or united labor, is like a ship without a rudder- sure it will move, but you can’t guarantee a direction or that you won’t run into an iceberg.

Much of the world hasn't yet learned the lesson that labor unions already know- by increasing the wages of employees it not only increases corporate productivity but boost employee purchasing power. Workers spend their pay checks, demand goes up and profit increase and you can pay your workers more… sound somewhat familiar from economics class?

Plus as you anyone who has bought a pair of shoes at Payless can tell you, cheaper isn’t always better- and there is more to the cost of doing business than this race-to-the-bottom, globalism goodness. This is America- the land of the free and the home of the brave- and it should be a place that does not accept the mistreatment of women and children and workers simply so if can save a buck. Nothing is free and that Made in China label on your back probably broke somebody’s back. But if you are fine with that, it probably says more about your morals than mine.

And we have all now know what the deregulated free market tastes like…

I know a union carpenter that makes $450.00 per hour.

Well, I know a union nursing home worker that can barely afford to feed her family and a lot of non-union ones that have to go to the food pantry. I know union janitors that can’t pay for prescription drugs and workers that have been denied a union that haven’t had a raise in fifteen years (except when the minimum wage increases, see above), have no access to health insurance and are fired when they call in sick for the first time in a decade. I also know workers that have been spit on, shot at, run over and/or have been sprayed in the face with bleach for trying to unionize a facility (which, incidentally, they have the legal right to do in this place we call the land of the free).

By the way, I don’t know any union carpenters that make $450.00 per hour or $150.00 per hour, but I know plenty that work hard, make a good living at what they do, own their homes, have health insurance, and can afford to send their kids to college. And I am pretty damn happy about that. I am of the opinion that all people, union and non-union alike, that work hard should be paid a fair wage and support themselves. Go us.

First Fall Post

Elections season is always so crazy... August and September fly by in even numbered years and often times, I miss the fact that fall has even arrived before it is gone. My favorite season rarely spreads itself more than a handful of weeks and I have missed a good portion of them already. On Saturday, I was lucky enough to turn my phone and breathe it in.

I went to Mt. Gilead State Park- a relatively small piece of land that boasts very little besides sadly kept trails. Roots stuck precariously in my path and I managed my way across bridges that either groaned under my weight (which is not that usual) or dipped, unsupported, toward the water. Some leaves were colored around the edges, promising amazing things in the next few weeks. Other trees had already shed their reds or yellows leaving the curled, crunchy mess at my feet. The air smelled liked honeycrisps and rain and the shifting wind that will eventually bring the snow. This time of year always makes me miss home.

I've only read two books worth note in the last few weeks, both of which I had been waiting for most of the summer.

Just minutes ago, I finished Carolyn Crane's sequel Double Cross. As is typical with series, it was not nearly as good as the original book. It took its good time starting up and I found the heroine, Justine, a bit too much to bare this time around. Her neurosis grew on me again, toward the end. The series is about a group of individuals with genetic mutations, known as highcaps- that have powers that range from telekinsis to telepathy to the ability to manipulate earth or memories or understand the physiological mapping of an individual. In the charge of one such highcap, Packard, is a group of minions known as disillusionists that have an overabundance of a particular emotion or neurosis. These disillusionist are able to zap certain individuals in order to disillusion (or emotionally reboot them) so they can be reformed. After the last book, Packard's minions are tasked with rebooting bad highcaps, Mayor Otto (a highcap that manipulates earth) has kept imprisoned. Then you got your Justine, Packard, Otto love triangle, a whole bunch of dirty secrets from the past, a highcap that can wipe your memory, and a conspiracy theorist capable of producing anti-highcap glasses and there you go. I'll give Crane another whirl after this, but I'm not hoping for much.

Also a slight disappointment was the third installment of the Parasol Protectorate series- Blameless by Gail Carriger. After her witty and exceedingly entertaining Changeless with one of the best up-in-the-air-endings I had read in ages, I was a bit underwhelmed. Though this won't be the last novel in the series, it had all of the markings that it perhaps should be. The major tension in the story was released with little less than a sigh and a shrug, which was an unbelievable as it was anticlimactic. The ruckus Lady Maccon pulls her increasing weight to be sure, but the cast of characters pulling her down have turned into a hodgepodge of half-formed cliches and self righteous sense of comedy that never fully forms. I generally don't wander in the Steampunk genre often, but it is a favorite as of late. Hey, I can suspend all sorts of realities in favor of an entertaining romp... but the ludicrous nature this installment has settled for makes me wish I had stopped at two.

August Book Club

Confessions first. I have been a bad reader. I have read a couple inane novels (including the new Janet Evanovich, yes I know... it's never coming back), the updated Ohio Campaign Finance Handbook and a lot political mailers and source materials, but I haven't reviewed anything since well... nothing has been too spectacular. Happily, the best book I have read this month also happened to be the August book selection at our little inbred liberal Book Club. Nathan chose The Mystic Arts of Erasing All Signs of Death this month by Charlie Huston. Alan Ball (of TrueBlood fame) has bought the rights and it seems this little gem might be making an appearance on HBO in the near future... and let's face it, we all knows what happens when a gay man is in charge of casting.

Death introduces us to your everyday asshole slacker, Web, who likes to hang out at his best friend's tattoo shop and whip clever verbal barbs like it was his job (since he doesn't have one). The story eludes to a not so pleasant experience in his past that unravels throughout the story, ending with Web naked in the fetal position under a cot in his boss' office after he has slept with the equally broken and intellectually astute, Soledad.

Through a series of highly unlikely, but entirely plausible events, Web begins to work for the guy that removes the biowaste from the tattoo shop. Po Chin, the owner and operator of a cleaning company that cleans anything and everything no one else will touch, also seems to owe Web for some unknown kindness that is also revealed later in the story.

Sunshine Cleaning for a more jaded and perhaps cleverer soul, the books descriptions are unique, entirely not politically correct, and your basic riot. The crime scenes Web is forced to clean are gruesome and seem true to life, told through the eyes of a man that can't get too upset about anything anymore and has no ability to emotionally connect with anyone. The description of a man committing suicide while holding water in his mouth is especially eye opening.

Death is a big departure from Huston's other works with which I am familiar, including the Joe Pitt Casebooks (I really was a fan of My Dead Body, not that that surprises anyone). I definitely wouldn't consider this part of his normal "pulp" genre, though the noir is clear enough. Overall, I had to say it was tight, well-written, and a quick read. A good book for the inner asshole we all have. I

July Bookclub Read

So this month, Pat suggested Bel Canto by Ann Patchett for our liberal-minded book club. I really enjoy the book club picks simply because I pick up (download) a book I wouldn't normal think of reading. However upon reading, I began to realize that I had read Patchett's first novel several years back- The Patron Saint of Liars. Patchett's voice if very unique and easily recognizable. I like her language so well that I find myself reading her work out loud (or the kindle does it for me)

Bel Canto is about a South American country (that remains unnamed throughout the book) that has the good fortune of attracting a high level Japanese business man, Mr. Hosokawa, to celebrate his birthday in their country with hopes of convincing him to invest money in the poor, backwards nation. However, the only reason Mr. Hosokawa agreed to go the God forsaken place was because they had wrangled his favorite operatic soprano to sing. Unfortunately during the festivities, a guerrilla group commandeers the party and hold everyone hostage. Many of these "terrorists" are barely teenagers and their generals unable to be ruthless enough to get results. Patchett weaves an interesting tapestry of the relationships that enviably form during the several month standoff.

I'll have to say that my experience reading Bel Canto was strange. It was easy to see how this situation would end, so I was reluctant to read a great deal of this book at a time- not because I didn't enjoy it, but more because I invested so quickly in the characters that I did not want to see them harmed. As long as I stopped while everyone was still ok, I felt more at ease somehow. This is not a book you want to devour, but read in bits and pieces. I will actually really miss the characters in this book, wonder where they went and hope they are all right.

Not something I could handle every day, but a nice change of pace.

June Round-up

I'm a little light in my reading this month. Work's been a mess and all I manage to do most days is fall on my face and go to sleep. I have also been catching some bad writing, so I don't have that many books worth mentioning.

The best of the latest would have to be The Scent of Rain and Lightning by Nancy Pickard. The story follows a women, whose parents were killed when she was just a toddler, allegedly be a man who worked on the her families ranch. The story opens with the events that night that everyone already knows and travels the background of the rich, but honest family of the Linders. The man that killed Jody's parents has been released from prison and the entire town is ready to go up in flames. Between the mystery of the murders and the wonderfully-crafted, small town feel, it was a quick, witty and enjoyable read. Jody's relations to her uncles and grandparents, as well as with the son of the man that killed her father are believable and richly written. Though the mystery was of the Scooby Doo variety (which left the reader guessing instead of actually able to make logical leaps to the conclusion), the end was just, if not completely satisfying.

I also read another co-authored novel by Jennifer Cruise and Bob Mayer, authors of Anges and Hitman from my last post, called Don't Look Down. Though this book follows a very similar formulaic plot as the Anges (which I blame on Cruise), it was still enjoyable, well-written and suspenseful- though the ending was muddled. Lucy Armstrong gets roped in finishing up a directing job on an action movie that has really has hit some hard times as a favor to her ex-husband. Unbeknownest to her, the movie is now bankrolled by the Russian mob and is only a cover. Enter J.T. Wilder, Green Beret, CIA babysitter, stunt consultant. Add in a one-eyed alligator, some wonder woman history, some jade sexual implements- and you have an amusing time that is almost completely devoid of logic. Fun nonetheless.

Then, a Proper Pursuit by Lynn Austin. For about the first 40 pages, I was convinced I was going to put this book down. But who am I kidding? I almost never do that. And this story worked on me until I didn't exactly hate of it. Written during the World's Fair in Chicago, it is a coming of age story about Violet Hayes, who leaves her small town to live with her three crazy aunts. She is exposed to the rich and prosperous life she is expected to want, suffragist that she is supposed to abhor and the depths of poverty she is supposed to ignore. A bit a contrived, but the depth of historical context made it well worth reading.

Finally, another Nancy Bartholomew book, Sophie's Last Stand. Nothing extraordinary, but entertaining. Sophie Mazaratti (another Stephenie Plum- like character) and her zany mishaps. Good read in the genre.

So behind...

I've been reading my ass off and been really bad about writing any of it down, so here is my little catch up. May was an exciting time for installments in two of my favorite series. Lover Mine by J.R. Ward was the next book in the Black Dagger Brotherhood series. This was the HER (happily ever after for all you non-romance readers) for Xhex and John Matthew. I had been looking forward to this book, but as many series do after the fifth or sixth book, Ward is loosing steam and maybe some traction. I'm over it and that's disappointing, but it was a great ride.

And of course Charlaine Harris hit us with her tenth Sookie Stackhouse Novel, Dead in the Family. I did not have high expectations and I wasn't disappointed. The last few novels have been clearly filler. Harris finally hit the jackpot (and rightfully so), but I can't help feeling that if TrueBlood hadn't hit the big time, she would have tied Sookie up by now and is just bidding her time. Still it was by far superior to the last installment and when I read these books, it always feels like I'm spending some time with an old friend. It might not be like the good old days, but it's always nice to catch up. On the up side, I got my mother completely hooked on these and she plowed through the first nine in less than six weeks. Hey, I get this reading thing from somewhere.

My husband and I drove to and from New Orleans for vacation last week, so I had an incredible amount of time to read. I finished four books in total. On the way down, I read Beguiled by Deeanne Gist and J. Mark Bertrand and Stella, Get Your Gun by Nancy Bartholomew. I was attempting Gist once again, even though I'm not a fan. Bertrand is a new author that will have his first solo novel out this summer (Back on Murder). I have heard wonderful things about him from my fellow mystery readers who have reviewed the advanced copy. As a disclaimer, both Gist (Romance) and Bertrand (Murder Mysteries) have a slight Christian slight- which I don't typically enjoy. But both authors are progressive about the ideas of faith and sin in a modern age and I find anyone attempting to hold on to non-traditional ideas faith intriguing. Beguiled, though much lauded by fans of the Gist, was slightly disappointing and I think Ms. Gist and I won't be seeing each other further. On the hand, the mystery was compelling though a bit sheer in its layers for my taste. A pleasant romp. I may be compelled to seek out Bertrand's new work.

On the other hand, Stella, Get Your Gun was a pleasant surprise, not to mention an introduction to both a new author and series- which is always exciting for me. I wasn't looking for any heavy lifting during my vacation and this was definitely no literary masterpiece (not that I actually read those), but Bartholomew was witty, clever and smart in this small town, slightly feministy murder mystery. Admittedly, the main character (Stella Valocchi) is a more intelligent, less incompetent Stephanie Plum with better hair. Stella has made her way to FL and become a rather good cop. The night of her big break in a major case, she catches her live-in boyfriend and her partner slapping asses in her bed. She pulls a gun, steals his dog and heads back up north to her aunt and uncle only to find her uncle's been murdered. Add in the CIA, a long lost boyfriend, an uncle reincarnated into a dog and you have a pretty fantastic car read. Janet Evanovich, eat your heart out.

On the way back, I hit Crux by Moira Rogers, which is hardly worth mentioning (and free via my Kindle) and Agnes and the Hitman by Jennifer Cruise and Bob Mayer. I'm not usually a fan of dual author reads, but Agnes and the Hitman was the best mystery I have read in a while- southern mystery genre. Cranky Agnes has just released a mob cookbook revealing recipes of Uncle Joey, who retired in a quiet southern town outside Savannah with two other former mobsters. After appearing in her weekly food critic column with her dog Rhett and buying an old mansion named Two Rivers, Agnes begins to have unpleasant visits from dognappers and hitmen a like. Joey enlists the services of his nephew, Shane, who has a way with a Glock and well, is hot because that's just the kind of story this is. While Shane protects Agnes, she has to plan a wedding, avoid going to jail for bludgeoning men with her frying pan, figure out what is in the hidden bomb shelter in her basement, and contend with mobsters, southern belles, a cheating fiance and the U.S. government. I haven't laughed this often for a book in a while. The characters are well cared for, the mystery tight and cleverly spliced with humor and emotion, and Agne's columns which are quick witted commentaries on life, family and food. I will be digging for the other works Cruise and Mayer have co-authored.

Tada!