The Parisian

I realized today that I created a huge, important gap here on my blog. I left out something very important. My wife and I were blessed to spend a week during the summer of 2017 in beautiful Paris France!

This was the first trip overseas for either of us.  No big bells or whistles, no tour or cruise....just 6 days getting a taste of one European city.

What a city!

I loved every inch of it.

We never got into the Louvre, never saw Madame Mona Lisa. We never stepped foot in Versailles. We missed many of the famous attractions.  But I must say, I truly felt the immense charm of this beautiful city.

Our quaint little Hotel was The Apostrophe Hotel  in the 6th arrondisement. This was charming little hotel, very near the Jardins du Luxembourghttps://www.discoverwalks.com/blog/what-to-do-in-luxembourg-gardens-in-paris/.  The charms were many, we loved our desk staff.  The night host was so kind, hooking up with probably the best restaurant Lori and I may have ever eaten at. Our tiny room was charming and romantic.

The Jardins were lovely, we spent many hours in those beautiful lush walkways.   I am not sure what possessed us to center our trip in the 6th arrondisement, but I think it was the perfect decision for us.

Yes, my spouse and I need to get out and see more of Europe. But for my money, I could do Paris countless times.  I think we just barely scratched the surface there....but my heart now resides in the 6th arronisement near the Jardins.

I love this quote by Gertrude Stein: "America is my country and Paris is my hometown."  Those words express exactly how I feel. Even more so in the 6th arronisement.

à tout à l'heure

nca

Ribkins My Brother

Ever since my youth I have found immense pleasure and delight with the random and coincidental unveiling of some new literary treasure. My passion is in novels, and when I find an author I like, I would read everything they ever produced.  Alexander Kent...read one novel, read them all. Tolkien and Stephen King. Cormac McCarthy.  Larry McMurtry.  Henning Mankell.   I could go on an on.

I take great pleasure in the discovery of something new in my literary diet.  I love novels that take me to some new place, or to some new point of view. I like being placed in new shoes and new situations.  A writer who is adept in taking me comfortably to parts unknown is cherished. 

And I love it when something is discovered walking though library or bookstore shelves and some trick of the eye flashes something completely different and fresh. It is a feeling similar to 'love at first site'....that moment of recognition of some beautiful new thing, a virgin novel entering my consciousness.

An literary moment as I describe took place just last week.  I had finished "The Last Ship" and I was looking for an audio book that had a similar apocalyptic plot.  I found several lists in GoodReads and other similar places...I would take rough ideas I found and then search through OverDrive at my library for one of those titles suggested.  Unfortunate, none were available. I put a couple on hold. But I needed something NOW....it is very painful for me to travel those hour long drives to work, or 2 hour flights to Dallas....without one or two audio books to sustain my powerful lust.

During my search, I came across an interesting title....but found that Overdrive had no audio copies available. However, OverDrive did provide me a list of  'You Might Also Like' suggestions. Desperate, I browsed through those suggestions.  The really odd thing, is almost all the suggestions they provided really had nothing whatsoever to do with what I was end of the world type scenarios.

Knowing I needed something for the next days commute, I decided on two of these random suggestions hoping at least one would pay off.  I also knew that onc of the holds I had placed may come through before too long, therefore I figured I was in pretty good shape.

Well, let me tell you friend...I found myself in much better shape than I could ever have imagined. Both turned out to be treasures. I had struck literary gold, and the gods of RANDOM had blessed me greatly.

The First Novel I read was "Tell The Wolves I'm Home", by Carol Rifka Brunt.  This was narrated very well by Amy Rubinate.  Set in the early 80's,  dealing adeptly with both AIDS and homosexual themes, this was a well crafted story about a young teen girl coming of age and having to deal with the AIDS related death of her beloved Uncle, and later again with the death of his lover Toby.  The novel also handled the young hero's own troubled relationship with her family, with her sister n particular. Her uncle was a famous but reclusive artist, and the book explores his past and legacy.  If I can think of any weakness to this novel, it may have been that I felt a bit the odd voyeur into this young teen's life. That feeling may have arisen from the fact that I d may have wandered a bit into YW literature this time around.  I have wandered into these 'shelves' before, much due to the fact that I had three daughters myself, it was not unknown for me to read some of their stuff from time to time.  Still, the author treated me allowing me to visit perspectives and settings that were foreign to me, and my visit was enlightening, warm, and comfortable. If I had wandered into YW land, so be it.   Two thumbs up.

The second 'find' was fantastic!  "The Talented Ribkins" by Ladee Hubard.  This book was wonderfully narrated by Kevin Kenerly.  A quick check in OverDrive revealed no additional books by this Author available. Drat.  But I was able to find a Audio Book narrated by Kenerly on OverDrive and I have already checked it out. That will be for my commute tomorrow.

I loved this book. The Author roughed me up a bit and squeezed me into the shoes of a post middle aged Civil Rights 'Freedom Fighter' with just a touch of  odd SUPERPOWERS.  I can't think of anywhere I would have rather been than driving through the African American neighborhoods of North Western Florida with this gifted author behind the wheel.   I won't give away the plot too much here, but I highly recommend this Audio Book.  The thought occurring to me right now is that this book is a screen play just waiting to happen...are you listening out there Denzil?  There are some wonderful characters filling these chapters just begging to be played by an all star, all black cast. I'd pay to see that. More of hint than a spoiler; look for a reference to Luke Cage about 3/4 of the way through.  Lots of really great detail work by this author, I felt that I was being educated into black culture and civil rights history.

Two thumps up, I suggest you check this one out.

Now, if you happen to do as I do and read both back to back...I'd love to discuss with you the common ground between these two seemingly disparate novels. There are several I noticed. Comments encouraged.

Cheers, nca

Boyz and Their Toyz

I can't help but picture in my mind, some boy, much like me when I was 8 or 9, thinking to himself 'when I grow up I'm going to build a Car Tower just like my Hotwheel's Garage.

Yes, that tower is real. You can see it in North Tempe, Carvana.  From the top of the tower I am sure you can view the artificial lake built in the Salt River bed, which is irrigation runoff backed up against a rubber dam.

Someone will be building the Barbie Dream House somewhere close by for sure.  :)

Cheers, nca

p.s. The rubber dam is gone now, replaced by something more permanent.

Happy Father's Day Dad

On this Father's Day, June 18 2018 a story about my Dad, Oscar Adler popped into my head. 
Back when my older brother was a Boy Scout, Dad was quite active in the leadership of the troop at our Church.  Actually, both parents were active in Scouting, Mom was also a Girl Scout leader.

As I look back on my Dad, being an active leader in Boy Scouts must have been somewhat of a challenge for him. He had had health problems all his life, and his time in the service had left him with only one lung. But I remember Dad was active with scouts, including taking part in Scout Camp up at Geronimo each year.

Geronimo was the local organized Scout Camp up on the beautiful Tonto Rim of Arizona.

I remember one summer my Dad had been part of the leadership in the annual trip to Geronimo, and he had arranged it so that my entire family (including me) got to stay in a Cabin near where our local church troop was camped. Though Dad was with the troop, along with my brother, the rest of us were able to stay in the nearby cabin.

With me pleading and prodding, one night during the stay I was able to convince my Dad to allow me to go and stay in the tents for the night with the 'big boys' of the troop.  I was 7 years younger then my big brother, so I am guessing I was about 5 at this time. Being able to camp with my Dad and the big boys was a dream come true.

That night, around the campfire, the leaders and boys told the typical Ghost Stories.  One story that stood out to me was the a vivid story about the 'Mogollon Monster'.  Camp legend had it that the Mogollon Monster lived nearby by on the Mogollon rim, roamed around late at night dining on unsuspected campers.  Needless to say, at 5 or 6, the story scared the crap out of me.  And it did not help that we had a Arizona Monsoon thunderstorm up on the rim that night, making for a loud boisterous night.

My Dad sent me to our tent early, after a few ghost stories and before we got soaked.  I had never slept in a sleeping bag in a tent, and I was quite unsure how to go about this task. Unsupervised and still a bit frightened from the story and accompanying thunder, I decided to crawl into my sleeping bag head first.

The big boys, coming into the test...seeing me loaded in backwards, all started laughing. They then went and got my Dad who came and helped me get situated a little more naturally for the night.  I don't think I slept a whole lot that night, still trembling every time some thunder broke thinking it was the Mogollon Monster heading my way.

I loved my adventure with the big boys and my Dad that week.  It set the tone for me to love camping, ghost stories, and adventure of any kind. I still love the furious sound of thunderstorms and the smell of rain in the pines to this day.

I look back at those times when Dad was active in my life and the life of my brothers and sisters. I think I learned a lot of my gentleness and activeness with youth from my Dad.  Those years did not last long, Divorce and his health had huge effects on that. My little brother and sister missed out on much of those types of adventures with my Dad, and they did not always see him the same as I did.

I loved my Dad, and I cherish many of those days of youth when he was active in Church, Scouting, Baseball, and family activities. I also liked that my Dad thought enough to take me along with the big boys, or take me to work with him, take me to get my hair chopped off in the summer time. 

Though we were not rich in money, at times we were rich in the blessings of family life. Hopefully, my daughter's can look back at times when I was active in their lives fondly. I know my son-in-laws are very active in the lives of their children.

Happy Father's Day...

Cheers, nca

Hell-Boy Hath Fury

I have mentioned my passion for Audible Books before. Therefore, bringing this up again for you dedicated Netizans of 'Kotkas' won't  arrive a complete surprise. So, why did I feel the topic required rehashing?

I have many reasons for loving Audio versions of books.

• I love books. I have been a pretty avid reader since my early childhood years.  

• Since my Heart Surgery, I have trouble staying awake all night to plow through a good book. I just can't stay awake like I used to.  An unfortunate side effect, but I just am much sleepier than I used to be.  Audio Books have become my 'go to' literature source.

• My drive to work is about 1 hour of stop and go traffic. An Audio Book is perfect for this boring two hour entrapment each way each day. What better way to make the drive go quicker than a literary escape each day.

• Overdrive audio books checked out from my local library are free and the ease of downloading a new book is amazing. A few clicks on my Overdrive App on my I-Phone and I am ready to go.

• There are some terrific narrators out there folks.  A great narrator can add amazing depth to a great yarn.  I have found several favorites I consider top knotch, and I treasure new finds as I come across then.  Occasionally an A-List celebrity will take on the job. And there are some terrific professionals you come across quite often. Some of my favorite narrators include Jim Dale, John McDonough, Judy Kay, , and George Guidall, It is a shame to limit it to these favorites, there are many more. 

Recently I came across a new favorite to join these others narrators I enjoy.  I was quite surprised to discover that "Hell-Boy" Ron Perlman had done some Audio-book narration. Dudes, this guy is an excellent story teller.  I had picked up the David Benioff book "City Of Thieves" from Audible because it was set in Leningrad ('St. Pete') during the Nazi siege. This is a historic time that I am always fascinated to read about.  Within a few pages of Perlman's narration I was hooked.  I had to do a Google search on other books he has narrated and I was disappointed that the pick'ens were so slim.

Perlman did not try to disguise his rich voice nor swap to some funky Russian accent, he stuck to his own tone, accent, and cadence....and it was a real treat. I could not put my headphones down.

I'd like to encourage you my followers that if you are looking for a great story told by a unique celebrity voice, then check out the Audiobook of David Benioff's "City Of Thieves". And I'd like to encourage Mr. Perlman to keep up the 'narrating', I will continue to look for your work.

Cheers, nca

p.s. I'd love to hear some of your favorite audio-book narrators if you have a chance to comment. 

Sometimes I think they sort too early

I believe there is a reason depictions of the Devil often show him carrying a fork. Likely there are a skew of reasons, but the one that occurs to me is how forks in the road we travel can sometimes place us on a path we did not intend.

As a long time fan of the Arizona State Sun Devils, I am familiar with the cheer 'Fork 'em Devils'.  How appropriate for me, I have had a lot of forks in my travels through life, and some of my decisions upon reaching those forks have not always been the best choices.  My brothers were asking me the other day....what year did you graduate from ASU....and I am almost sure they were shocked at my answer....I did not graduate.  What brilliant fork decision could have led me to that status? Was I 'forked' over?

I live with my decisions, I own them...for better or worse.  Any forks I chose which would have led me to any other path besides the one that led me to be husband to my wife or father to my daughters, and later to being a patriarch for my grandchildren could not arrive with any significant regrets, could they?  Upon my honor, I think not.

Yet, it was not, is not, has not been an easy path.  The stress I placed upon my family with some of my decisions could be measured if it was put under a microscope. But this blog entry is not about putting my decisions under a microscope. Not at this point.

I wanted to ask you which decisions in life are irreversible? Certainly, my decisions that led me to not have a University degree are certainly reversible. Indeed, I have the power to overcome that if I choose.  So, which ones are irreversible I ask a second time?  Marriage decisions? The decisions to have children? Lifestyle decisions? Life and death decisions?

I think there are some irreversible decisions that we can make.  But I also think there are traps we can put ourselves in that we might think are irreversible, but perhaps we 'sort too early' sometimes.

I'm still being too general, I know.

So, let me be more specific.  This, from my youth...

I remember a very sad day from my youth.  A hard day at home led me to think my only option was to run away. I had no job, no where to go, no one to turn to. So I thought I would just run away.  I had wanted to know how I could support myself, and one thought I had was to turn to a life of crime. That day, I experimented around with doing some pretty significant shop-lifting to see how good I could support myself through a life of crime.  I turned out to be pretty good.  I was able to successfully lift several items over a day in time, and I felt that perhaps I could get away with this if I needed to. Items included food stuffs, clothes, and other essentials.

After a day in this mode, my temper cooled and my loneliness flared and I ended up going back home. My decision to lead a life of crime to support myself had come to a temporary end.

I had entertained my criminal side for the better part of a day. But, was I now a 'criminal'?  I showed that I was good at it, even though I had also shown I was not too good at living a criminal lifestyle. If that 'crime spree' defined me for a day, did it define me for all of my life?

Believe it or not, I have other examples. I can give some examples of several other vices that I embraced during my difficult youth. You may be surprised.

But which of those vices marked me for life? Which ones define me now?

For any youth reading this blog, today.... I want to ask you the same question.  What single act, or even series of act defines you?  Will you chose to let these acts define you forever. Do your paths converge and become one-way lanes...or can you back up to the fork? Can you hop on another road?

I have another story to tell.

My travelling buddy and I wanted to travel to Utah from San Francisco to see a buddy that lived in Provo.  We decided to hop on a freight train to get us from point A to point B. Asking around, we determined that the Oakland Freight Yard had some trains scheduled to go East.  Checking around the yard, we met a lineman who told us what train was headed toward Salt Lake City. He even offered to let us crash in his camper until the train was ready to depart.  That night, he knocked on the camper door and pointed us to the right freight train.

The trip, though a little grimy, ended up being spectacular. The train traveled through the Sierras and through the Lake Tahoe area. It meandered along the Great Salt lake and we were able to see beautiful country that we otherwise would have missed. Once we arrived in the Ogden, Utah yard...we were caught by yard security and tossed from the yard. We did not quite make it to Provo, but our thumb took us there.

Later on the trip, I happened to stay with some cousins in Ft. Branch Indiana. They asked about my trip and I told them stories, like the story above. They looked at me in awe, and said...you were pretty much a 'bum' then.  I thought about that then, as I do now. Was I a 'bum', a 'hobo', 'homeless'?  I suppose each of those adjectives did describe me. The definition fit.  But did that one label define who I was. 

Does the label you have chosen, or the label that chose you define you? At what point does the label become the truth of who you are? 

Cheers, nca