An Embarrassment of Riches

"I Reject your Reality and Substitute my Own" - by Tama I'm probably coming late to the party, but are any of you as madly in love with Mythbusters as I am? My 7-year-old and I have been watching them all summer long. I'd tried to get him interested a while back and it didn't take, but I got him with the episode titled Helium Football--what kid wouldn't be overjoyed to hear the helium voice for the first time? He was hooked.

But, I love them too, for loads of reasons: Because I'm a science-y sort, because the people on the show are so smart and cute, because they show a logical progression in their proof process, because they shop at places like that cool aircraft surplus warehouse where they got the vacuum toilet, because they have that giant, highly organized shop full of industrial shelving with boxes and bins of tools and hardware and toys and stuff, and because they have those awesome panel trucks that just say M-5 on the side. Very undercover.

My favorite episodes: Tesla's Earthquake Machine, Mentos/Diet Coke, Hindenburg Disaster, and Killer Whirlpool, all from collection 2.

My son's favorite episodes: Helium Football, Crimes and Mythdemeanors, Killer Whirlpool, and the two different Ninja shows.

There are a few episodes that involve alcohol consumption which may not be appropriate for children, depending on your kiddos age, but are hilarious for adults.

If you love the Mythbusters too, won't you send in a 'Suggestion for Purchase' for the seasons that we do not own yet at MCL? We currently have 1-5, and have ordered 6 and 7, but really we should have them all. C'mon. You know you want them, too.

A Fascination with Isolated Places; the Attraction of a Beautiful Void - by Tama

Atlas of Remote Islands: Fifty Islands I Have Never Set Foot on and Never Will by Judith Schalansky, translated from the German by Christine Lo

What is it about an atlas that I love so much? The colors, the names I've never heard, the ability to turn the page and get to a completely different part of the world. I can get from Portland to Florence, Oregon in a heartbeat, or Florence, Italy in a few seconds. How about a remote island, maybe in the South Pacific? Yes, please.

This sweet book is not your average atlas. It has a lovely size, easy to hold at just 143 pages, and not concussion inducing if you fall asleep while reading in bed. Each island has its own two-page spread, one page devoted to a single paragraph about its history, the facing page a map of the island itself. For those interested, the text is a style called MVB Sirenne which I thought just gorgeous, and I don't often notice that sort of thing.

Again, the key word here is remote. These islands are so far from most continents that they don't usually show up in an atlas, they're too small to bother placing in those wide expanses of blue ocean, I imagine. Some I've not heard of, many I have--not that I could tell you where they are, whether they're north or south of the equator, what ocean they're in, or anything at all about them, whether they're inhabited, whether they have fresh water, if pirates have frequented their jungles, or if cannibals still live there today. But now I've read all about them, and there are islands that meet all these fabulous descriptions.

I don't get many Sundays to myself these days, but this would be the perfect book for a long, casual, Sunday, favorite beverage at your side. For those of us who awake at 3:23 a.m. on a semi-regular basis (and I know you're out there), it is the perfect book to pick up and read at that dark and mysterious hour, and I loved every single minute of reading it.

P.S.  You know, Father's Day is just around the corner, and for a dad who loves to travel, or sail, for a dad who loves atlases or oceans, for a dad who longs for a quiet place--I think he may just love this book, too.

"Art is mute when money talks"* - by Tama In the early 1960s a librarian and a postal worker fell in love and married. They loved art and began to collect what they could afford, living on her salary, buying with his. At the time what they bought was modern and conceptual art. It was cheap and many of the artists were starving. Now the artists are household names and the librarian and the postal worker own one of the largest and most important collections in the world. And they still live in their one-bedroom, rent controlled Manhattan apartment.

"We never realized something was going to become important...we  never thought of that." Dorothy Vogel

Megumi Sasaki tells the inspiring story of this couple in Herb and Dorothy. The film has garnered a number of awards, including winner of the "Audience Award" at the Hamptons Film Festival, and winner of  the "Best Documentary" award at Provincetown Film Festival.

Watching the Detectives - by Tama Inside the Outbreaks: The Elite Medical Detectives of the Epidemic Intelligence Service by Mark PendergrastThe Epidemic Intelligence Service is a rarely-heard-of division of the Centers for Disease Control, and the medical equivalent of the CIA. How cool is that?! These folks, epidemiologists by trade, try to study and prevent virtually every threat to public health that's around--and they've been at it since 1951. They've dealt with smallpox and Ebola, found that people can get rabies from bats without being bitten, started the first surveillance system for birth defects and helped identify folic acid as a preventative for spina bifida. They've investigated mass hysteria in schools, sick-building syndrome, proved that aspirin can cause Reye's syndrome, that toxic shock syndrome was caused by super-absorbent tampons, and that Lyme disease came from ticks. They've investigated lead poisoning, multiple-drug-resistant tuberculosis, parasites, pesticides, and cholera. But they also study things like cancer clusters, obesity, heat waves, binge drinking, violence and suicide.This book is graphic--not for the squeamish. But for those among us who love this kinda thing, it is just the ticket. Plus that cover illustration is the shiz.

Mad Science Made Easy - by Tama The Disappearing Spoon (and Other True Tales of Madness, Love, and the History of the World from the Periodic Table of the Elements by Sam Kean

For those of us who struggled with high school chemistry at the hands of a sadistic middle aged teacher having an affair with the trigonometry instructor (and I know you’re out there) we can now make another attempt at understanding the periodic table, and thank God, I say. Kean’s writing makes the subject matter so wonderfully approachable--he welcomes you in, pours you a cold one, and just starts telling great stories about the elements.

There’s neon rain, gas warfare, ruthless scientists, passion, betrayal, adventure and obsession. What cool prank can you pull with gallium and a cup of tea? Why was cadmium the Godzilla killer? And did you hear about Marie Curie’s sullied reputation? There are some black and white illustrations and photos, and one of them is of an old ceramic urn-like device called a Revigator, a pottery crock lined with nuclear radium. Users, back in the day, filled it with water which turned radioactive overnight. The manual suggested drinking six or more refreshing glasses a day. Yum. Maybe there’s a chance for me to love chemistry after all.

Fractals are Everywhere - by Tama Fractals: Hunting the Hidden Dimension (DVD) NOVA/PBS Home Video; you can also watch the program online.

When flipping channels a few months ago I stopped at PBS which was airing a NOVA production right then. The first two words I heard from the tv were "fractal geometry" which gave me a slight wincing thing in my eye, like I'd gotten a squirt from a grapefruit. There was a brief flashback to Mr. Pawlak's geometry class, circa 1975. Until now all I knew about fractals was two things: that screensaver from about 10 years ago that I could stare at endlessly and the Magic Eye books from the mid 90s (I couldn't see it then, can't see it now). But, my rule is, "If it's done by NOVA, I will watch it." It is, and I did. And it pretty much blew me away.

I was fascinated by the life of Benoit Mandelbrot, the father of fractal geometry, and his pioneering work in mathematics--he was, of course, mocked and ridiculed by his peers of the day and now has won over 20 awards for his work. Born in Poland in 1924, Benoit and his family fled to France in 1936 to avoid Nazi persecution, and young Benoit spent much of his teens avoiding the Nazis in France.

The film itself is stunningly gorgeously wonderfully watchable, on par with Planet Earth but way shorter at just under an hour. The narrator's voice is reminiscent of fourth grade science film strips from the late 1960s, but not overly noticeable as such, and honestly, it adds a certain je ne sais quoi.

So now I know fractals are simply the irregular repeating shapes that are found all around us: cloud formations, broccoli, craggy mountain ranges, growth patterns of a rain forest, and even in our bodies--the branching of normal blood vessels follows a fractal pattern. One way scientists and physicians can determine a cancerous growth is the very abnormal (non fractal) distribution of blood vessels in the tumor.

So now I wonder if the waves of customers at our Hollywood checkout desk conform to Mandelbrot's equation. And what about traffic patterns? Maybe the way the needles will fall off my Christmas tree onto the carpet will make that cool graph shape. The occurrence of red tides on the Oregon Coast--what about that? Sea bird population growth and decrease? I know broccoli florets are a fractal pattern, but what about cauliflower? Fractals are everywhere.

To date I've watched the DVD three times and Benoit Mandelbrot is my new hero--move over Jacques Cousteau and share the throne. Benoit rocks.

Another Short Walk - by Tama A couple weeks ago I was browsing at Powell’s on Hawthorne and a book on that awesome remainder section caught my eye. The Cactus Eaters: How I Almost Lost My Mind—and Almost Found Myself—on the Pacific Crest Trail by Dan White.  I loved Bill Bryson’s book on the Appalachian Trail, A Walk in the Woods, and if this was anything like it, it’d be good, at the very least. I put it on hold the next morning.

Dan White and his girlfriend of several months decide to leave behind their dead end reporting jobs to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. Their hope is that it will deepen their still new relationship, make them stronger people and all that. They spend hundreds of dollars on great equipment and their favorite snack foods, and even though they're getting off to a late start (meaning June) they figure that if they can knock off sixteen mile days for six months they’ll finish before the weather turns—sounds iffy. How many miles will they walk, theoretically? Two thousand six hundred and fifty from Mexico to Canada.

They’re given a one-night short-course by a couple of people who’ve already hiked the PCT. They recommend dividing it into twenty-five segments. At the beginning and end of each segment they’ll leave the trail and resupply at designated towns nearby. They will mail twenty five boxes of dried food to themselves addressed to General Delivery at post offices near the trail heads. They’re given a list of “trail angels” who live in the supply towns--folks who let hikers sleep at their house for free, give rides, even schlep water to the desperate. Sounds doable if you’re organized.

So far it’s the funniest book of my still new summer reading season. I’ve forced friends and loved ones to listen to entire paragraphs. The other day I was laughing so hard it actually made my son pause Lego Star Wars II to ask if I was ok. I couldn’t wait to finish it yet I was sad when I did, and in my world that is the sign of an excellent book.

Without spoiling anything, I’ll say that the ending was not what I expected, but it was real and I give Dan White credit for that. The joy of the book for me was in the trek itself. The lesson for me was the reminder that it’s good to be honest and be yourself, even if it’s hard sometimes.

All In the Family - by Tama

I’ve been in a bit of a book funk lately. Just can’t seem to find a really good one--you know, the kind that makes you excited to get back to it when you’ve had to put it down. The kind where all you want to do it sit and read for a few gloriously uninterrupted hours. The kind that you’re bummed to finish because there’s no way the next one will live up to it and only disappointment lies ahead. I want a book like that.

I can’t recall how the Spellmans came into my life--probably a review in some library journal. It doesn’t matter because they’ve saved me. In The Spellman Files, by Lisa Lutz, we meet Izzy Spellman, age 28. Izzy has a much younger sister, Rae, and a chronically perfect, type-A older brother, David. The kids have been brought up in the family business of private investigation, to either their benefit or detriment, depending on the kid. David is an overachiever who ran far and fast from the family business as soon as he could to become a high-powered attorney. Rae, age 14, is chronically addicted to recreational surveillance and sugary food items. Izzy, the middle child, has attended multiple colleges and universities without completing a degree, can’t seem to hold down a “normal” job, has a past littered with romantic mistakes and slightly excessive drinking, and prefers to enter and exit the family home via windows rather than doors. Mom and Dad just try to maintain some sense of sanity and keep the business afloat as they squeeze in the occasional “disappearance” of their own, family code for a weekend away by themselves.
 
Curse of the Spellmans has been nominated both for an Edgar Award and a Macavity Award, and those of you who read mysteries know what a big deal that is. And honestly, I liked the other two in the series better, so that tells you how good they really are.

One reviewer called the series “Harriet the Spy for grownups” another says “part Columbo, part nightmarish Nancy Drew.” Whatever. It’s always a starred review no matter who's doing the reviewing, which in the book biz means you need to pay attention because people are gonna be asking for it. And for good reason.

There’s talk that a Spellman movie is in the works but we all know that the books are always better.

www.lisalutz.com
 

You Never Get What You Expect - by Tama

Since I was just a wee small library girl, one of my very favorite parts of going on a trip, no matter how far or near, how short or long, has been the ceremonial choosing of the books that will go with me. So for a mid-January trip to the Oregon Coast, what should I take? I pretty much had to take the book for February's book group--the pressure was on and I'd been procrastinating. And then, because resistance is futile, I threw in Strand: An Odyssey of Pacific Ocean Debris by Oregon author Bonnie Henderson. 

We arrived in Manzanita mid-afternoon, settled in, had an early dinner, and revved up the fireplace. There was a brief moment when I contemplated doing the responsible thing and diving into my assigned reading. Then, as I held a book in each hand, I got a delicious whiff of salty air and heard the roar of the ocean just outside. I went with Strand. It is a wonderful thing to have the perfect reading for a trip.

Back in '95 Henderson began volunteering for CoastWatch, a program of the Oregon Shores Conservation Coalition that monitors changes, natural and unnatural, on every inch of Oregon coastline. Volunteers adopt a mile of coast and agree to walk it at least four times a year, briefly reporting on changes they notice. She and a good friend walk their adjacent miles together, one bringing the sandwiches, the other the cookies. They begin to refer to themselves as Forensic CoastWatchers as they talk about what they find as they walk. And what they find is just the beginning of the story. It's Henderson's bloodhound spirit for the answer to "why is it here on the beach?" that makes the book so fascinating.

Some of what I learned from Strand is that:

Those thousands of little purplish-blue jellyfish washing up is something that happens every year.

Dead sea birds are everywhere. If you don't see them, you're just not looking.

The primo time for beachcombing is at high tide on a stormy night.

Japanese glass floats on the beach are an almost unbelievable treasure find here, but in Japan they're nothing special. Even less than nothing special.

Minke whales may be the most common whale off the Oregon Coast. That's right--Minke.

Container ships lose their cargo often, more often than they'd like you to know, and it sometimes washes up on NW beaches.

There is a sickeningly large floating "island" of all kinds of garbage in the North Pacific known as The Patch.

Henderson's writing has been likened to John McPhee, whom I worship. If that gets you to read this book, then that's great. But if you're not a McPhee Phan, please don't let that keep you from reading Strand. I would ask you this: Do you love the Pacific Northwest beaches? Good enough. You'll need to read this book. The chapters are short enough to be totally accessible yet include enough detail that the amateur science/nature geek in you will be totally satisfied. I was. Like a good shipwreck story? There's that too.

"Ultimately," Henderson says, "it was the stories I prized the most. Everything on the beach has one--every discarded bottle, every dead seabird chick. Even when you can't get the whole story, the quest becomes a story in itself. And in the end those are the best stories anyway."

Epilogue: I was at the coast for four days and finished Strand in three, although with no distractions it's definitely possible to do it in one. Did I start that book for the book group? No. Did I have guilt about it? Yes. But in classic English major fashion, I burned through it the day before our meeting. It was good. But Strand was great.

Bonnie Henderson will be reading from Strand at the Hollywood Library on Monday May 18th, at 6 p.m. Learn more about her work at her website www.bonniehendersonwrites.com

McPheeling Groovy - by Tama (read) I've been on a John McPhee jag lately. It started in about 1979 when an English prof handed me a copy of The Survival of the Bark Canoe while I waited for an appointment with my adviser. It wasn't like anything I'd ever read before. I loved the subject, and the writing even more.

Very recently I read Uncommon Carriers for book group. I loved the subject, and the writing even more. And I really get off on materials movement, to coin a library phrase. Moving stuff efficiently--cool. McPhee's chapter on UPS really floated my boat.

On finishing Carriers I wanted another McPhee title right then, didn't want to wait for the material to move, so I grabbed Looking for a Ship (1990) which was right there on the shelf. Even though it's almost twenty years old, and I knew next to nothing about the United States Merchant Marine, it was awesome. Again with the moving stuff around. Love it. Before I finished this one I put The Founding Fish on hold and it came from another branch with perfect timing. I finished the ship book and picked up the fish book. One of my "wish I coulda been a" professions is an ichthyologist, so I loved this also. But it's not about the fish--it's the writing.

Now I have to go back in time and reread The Survival of the Bark Canoe (1975). It's been so long that it'll be like reading it for the first time. How did that English prof, whose name I can't even remember, know I'd like it? We talked for less than five minutes in a dusty half-basement hallway. Was it something I said? Was it a vibe he got from the enthusiastic brown haired girl madly in love the Transcendentalists? Doubtful. I'm pretty sure it was McPhee. The man can't write a bad sentence as far as I can tell. I don't normally make resolutions at the New Year--I feel like I'm setting myself up for failure--but I may make an exception this year. Maybe I'll resolve to read half of the books John McPhee has written to date. Hold on--I think that's something like 27 titles. Maybe I can read one third. How about if I just resolve to read everything he's written with no time-line? Yeah, that sounds good.

If You Are Among the Very Young at Heart - by Tama (watch) I watched Young @ Heart in early December. While raving about it the morning after, a voice in my head said to zip it until I could put together a rational thought. I think I'm ready.

Young @ Heart is essentially the biography and recent history of a chorus of senior citizens. Established in 1982 in Northampton, Massachusetts, all the original members (none are still with us) lived in a senior center. Nowadays the chorus members are in a wide variety of living situations--some in their own homes, alone or with spouses, some in retirement homes or apartments. The choir's music, chosen by their artistic director, Bob Cilman, is not what one might expect--"I Wanna Be Sedated" by The Ramones, for example. Their struggles with "Yes We Can" by Allen Touissant and "I Feel Good" by James Brown are epic, and finally mastered, but, man, they were close ones. Considering the average age of the group members, syncopated vocal rhythms really are the least of their concerns. As a coworker said, "Fix You" by Coldplay takes on a whole new meaning when you see and hear it sung solo by an 80-year-old so weakened by congestive heart failure that he must sit, oxygen canister beside him. And it is perfection.

It is still so difficult to put my feelings about this movie into words. They make it sound trite and "feel good," and that demeans it, somehow. These are real people, forming friendships, rehearsing, traveling and performing together, fighting battles with illness which we see won and lost, and grieving together. They are as different from each other as you and I, but they have that common thread of age. There are moments of pure hilarity, absolute frustration, terrible sorrow, and sheer joy.

These folks master performances that would be difficult for any age, but they're all over than 65, some well past that mark. I can't seem to get a good walk in, but I'll be the first in line to buy tickets if Young @ Heart comes to Portland. Maybe I'll even hoof it to the Max station.

Learn more about the chorus at http://www.youngatheartchorus.com.

Once You Make a Balloon Dog, You Can Do Anything! - by Tama Twisted: A Balloonamentary

Huh. A documentary about balloon twisters. Really? I do love a good documentary but truth is I didn't expect to love this one quite as much as I did, and now I can't stop telling people about it.

Film makers Naomi Greenfield and Sara Taksler met at their freshman orientation a few years ago. It was the classic "Say Something About Yourself" icebreaker, when Sara said "I can make balloon animals." Naomi, next up, said "I was gonna say that!" Bam--instant friends, and now partners in film making.

The charm of their movie lies in the lives of the twisters themselves and their lovely, eccentric, sometimes obsessive personalities. There are Ph.D.s, troubled teens and cancer survivors. They came to twisting for a variety of reasons, and for some, money was a good reason.  And it turns out the money is good, my friends, surprisingly good. We're taken to one of the big twisting conventions, Twist and Shout, where we meet balloon twisters from all over the world who welcome in curious passers-by without reservation, put a piece of latex in their hand, and teach them how to make a doggy.

But there's way more to balloon twisting than doggies. For example, I'd never thought about how easily some balloon shapes lend themselves to representations of the male and female anatomy. There are adult-themed twisters who cater to bachelor and bachelorette parties, as well as gay bars. There are gospel twisters who cater to a different crowd and see twisting as part of their mission. But there's everything in between--a gigantic flying octopus, a Trojan horse, and 100 foot tall soccer players. Literally, the sky's the limit, or not the limit, depending on how you look at it. Is it sculpture? Engineering? Fun and silliness? Yes.

What made my movie-watching experience extra nice was that Naomi Greenfield was there in the theater. She stayed to teach us how to twist a balloon doggy, and then put a movie promo pin on my jacket. She was lovely and sweet to the only two people who were in the theater to see her movie that day and who were mostly thumbs when it came to twisting. I liked her immediately. And next time I meet a twister at the farmers' market, I'll probably strike up a conversation with them as I hand them a donation for that doggy they made for my son.

More at http://www.twistedballoondoc.com/

Come Eat, Y’all! - by Tama

Gumbo Tales: Finding My Place at the New Orleans Table by Sara Roahen

Until recently, what I didn't know about gumbo was pretty much everything. I'd happily eat it if someone else made it, but I'm rarely that lucky. I had no clue about the religious fervor some people feel when it comes to okra in or okra out. And what the heck is filé? Dang, I didn't even know the Hank Williams song.

Now Roahen has pulled me into her world of the amazing food of New Orleans--is it street food? It can be, but is not always. She's made me want to visit every gumbo shack she mentions. And I want a Sno-Bliz from Hansen's if it's hot out--but can I stand the summer steambath that is New Orelans? Doubtful. I want Sazerac in my drink. What is Sazerac? I barely know, I barely care, but I want it. I want to eat boiled crawfish. I want red gravy. I want oysters during the high season. And I want to eat in a culinary speakeasy.

There are heartbreaking stories of businesses wiped out with Katrina, some resurrected afterward, but some lost forever, along with their owners.

This is on my "Best of 2008" list. In fact, I might need to buy it, and I hardly ever do that, being as I work for the library and all.

The Chocolate Underbelly - by Tama

Candyfreak: A Journey Through the Chocolate Underbelly of America By Steve Almond
Here's a good read to relax with while glorying in our post-trick-or-treating rewards. This has to be one of the funniest nonfiction titles ever in the history of funny nonfiction. I read it a few years ago before Steve Almond was so hip and happenin', and reread it a few weeks ago as I was fighting off the April version of The Miserable Cold. I started laughing so hard on page 16 that it was over an hour, and a half box of tissues later that I finally stopped coughing, and got a grip on the hysteria. A few days later I texted a coworker at a library convention in Philly to ask if she'd bring me some Peanut Chews because they're raved about in the book and I thought they were only local to Philly (they're readily available other places now and fabulous). The book's not all fun and games. Almond gets more serious later on, but always with a humorous, self-deprecating undertone that's friendly and lovable. Powell's had the book remaindered a while back and I got it dirt cheap, but you should track it down and read page 16, if nothing else. Off you go.