The Impeachment Trial

The Washington Post Print Facility

Newspapers. The presses are big. They're noisy. And when they roll, you can feel them through the floor. That's why they're usually somewhere off in the hinterlands instead of in the big, busy office buildings where reporters write 'em.

The Post  prides itself on its dependable home delivery time of 6 a.m. or earlier. Hah!

I bet it was in subscribers' driveways alright. And maybe by 6 a.m., but I bet it didn't have the full rundown of D.C.'s Main Event. The paper has to be at the distribution center by 2:15 a.m. to make the 6 o'clock delivery. The Impeachment Trial went until about 2 a.m. D.C. time (Midnight Colorado time.)
Ain't no way the Washington Post, or any other print newspaper, could even report the actual time Supreme Court Chief Justice John Roberts finally graveled the proceedings into recess. Guess folks are just going to have to join the 21st Century and get their news online.

I watched it live on TV. (Thank you PBS.) It certainly went past my bedtime and I bet past the bedtimes of many of the Senators. Lord, some of them are even older than me.

What I saw and heard:
    The Senate Chamber was full of Senators. (Pretty much Senators, only. It's not usually full unless they're taking a vote. You normally see one Senator or another at the lectern reading their speech to a virtually empty room.
     And it was quiet. The Senators weren't allowed to talk except during recesses. They are known to visit with each other, normally. You know, discuss, persuade, tell jokes, gossip -- even, or maybe especially, during a vote when at least a quorum is presumed to be there. (That's 51 of the 100 Senators.)
      It was all very formal and decorous. Representative Jerry Nadler was the only one who came right out and called Trump's lawyers liars. I don't know that that was what drew the reprimand from Chief Justice Roberts. He directed the reprimand at both parties. The Trump lawyers didn't call anybody out with the term lie. They just lied, but I'm not sure that's an infraction of courtesy in the Senate.
      Really different than what I've seen of the British Parliament. I don't know that I've ever heard any of them call each other liars, but they are certainly noisy and disruptive. But, now that I think about it, I think I've only seen video of the House of Commons. And mostly during Brexit at that. Maybe the House of Lords is different.
   
The Democrats entered umpteen amendments to the rules the Republicans have established for the proceedings. Each amendment was duly read out. Each side was allotted two hours to argue for or against the amendment. Then Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell, a Republican, would move that the amendment be "tabled." (Meaning that whatever the requested change could be considered at some future time. Or not, as Representative Adam Schiff pointed out.) They would have a roll call vote, meaning that each Senator's name was called out and they responded verbally.
Most of the amendments were requests that subpoenas be issued for various and sundry documents and witnesses.
There were no surprises. With one exception, the votes to table were 53 yeas and 47 nays. Hmmm. How many Republicans are in the Senate? Oh, yeah. 53. There are 45 Democrats and 2 Independents who caucus with the Dems.
Formalized deniability! Keeping in mind, one-third of these folks are up for reelection this year. Their jobs are on the line. They didn't vote against having witnesses or documents. They just voted to table the requirement to have witnesses or documents.
The one exception? Senator Susan Collins of Maine. She voted with the Democrats to increase the amount of time for responses to written motions from two hours to twenty-four hours. Written motions are due Wednesday morning. Gosh, I think the deadline for motions was 8 a.m. D.C. time, two and a half hours before my time right now.
Two hours to respond! Senate staffers have their work cut out for them. And on little or no sleep, at that.

Besides not being allowed to talk while the trial is in session, the Senators can't have any kind of electronic device -- no cell phones, iPads. Nada. They're only allowed to drink water or milk. (I don't know that the kind of milk is specified. Cow's milk? Goat's milk? Almond milk? Oat milk?)

They started at 1 p.m. Tuesday afternoon and went until almost 2 a.m. Wednesday morning. They were allowed a 30-minute dinner break and periodic 15-minute breaks. If they need a potty-break, they must use the cloak room. (I assume there are facilities in the cloak room.) The point is, they're not to be leaving the chamber and wandering in the halls or falling asleep in some out-of-the-way corner.

And those English Royals think they've got it bad!

Am I going to watch the rest in real time? Don't think so. Think I'll just read about it in the newspapers. Online.

N. Scott Momaday, The Bear -- A Review of Beauty

N. Scott Momaday: Words from a Bear

Sometimes something absolutely beautiful comes on TV when you most need to see it. Last night PBS's American Masters series was N. Scott Momaday: Words From a Bear. You can stream it online at https://www.pbs.org/video/n-scott-momaday-word-from-a-bear-odljy7/. If you do, please watch it on the largest screen you have available. The views of Scott's world are the American West and his imagination. 

Momaday is Kiowa. He was born in Oklahoma's red earth country and raised in the red rock canyons of Arizona and the Jemez Pueblo in mesa country of New Mexico.  Momaday grew up immersed in his father’s Kiowa traditions and those of the Navajo, Apache, and Pueblo. His was a world of vast spaces and timelessness.

PBS describes Scott as a "Pulitzer Prize-winning author and poet, best known for House Made of Dawn and a formative voice of the Native American Renaissance in art and literature." (You can read my review of the book at https://bit.ly/37kI3UM.)

House Made of Dawn was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for fiction fifty years ago and I had the great good fortune of meeting him almost that long ago.

I was a single mom working full time and taking night classes at Central State University in Edmond, Oklahoma. I took two and, some semesters, three classes to meet a degree requirement. But always one night a week I spent a bit of time outside my daily pressure cooker life -- in Dr. Norman Russell's poetry class. He very kindly arranged for me to continue taking his class after I took it that first semester, changing its title and number to side-step academia's practical order.

In his class we talked poetry. We read poetry. We shared the poetry we had written during the week. We discussed and argued, though always civilly, what made poetry speak to us. Rhymed, free verse, traditional, experimental. How to say what we meant to say. Which words were strong enough to touch our reader, strong enough to touch the universe. The universe both inside and outside of ourselves.

Dr. Russell was an eminent scientist in the world of botany. His day job was teaching science classes to college students. Don't get me wrong. He enjoyed teaching. He loved botany. And he loved our night class of would-be poets. We were not all working toward a degree. We were a mix of generations and professions and life experiences and goals.

He was a Native American, a Cherokee. And, most-importantly to me, Dr. Russell was a poet. A kind and generous poet. Red Shuttleworth (a much awarded Western Poet in his own right) said of Dr. Russell in a 2011 tribute, "Norman H. Russell bushwhacked a trail for many Native American poets.  He was the first Indian to publish poetry widely."

Sometimes Dr. Russell had a poet friend come and read to us. One of those poet friends was N. Scott Momaday. I doubt Momaday remembers me at all, but I remember him. I remember him as a big guy with a wonderful reading voice. I don't think I realized that he was famous. That wasn't important anyway. I just liked that he talked poetry to us as one of us.

Now I'm really glad he was famous, because that got us this beautiful film, N. Scott Momaday: Words From a Bear. This film gives us Momaday's world in his own voice. 

Again, here's the link https://www.pbs.org/video/n-scott-momaday-word-from-a-bear-odljy7/ 

Enjoy.

Downton Abbey -- Spoiler alertssssss

image from vanityfair.com

This photo is the first spoiler -- Lady Mary's riding astride!

I'd done reasonably well, waiting. But last night I was ready to strangle the PBS folk. At 7 p.m. my husband distracted me with Nova's Making North America: Human complete with geology, paleontology, anthropology -- all liberally sprinkled with scenes from my adopted home-state of Colorado. There was no way I could sit through 'Secrets of Chatsworth' when Downton was the only big English house I wanted to see.

And then, and then . . . there was an hour of anguish as some famous actress I'd never seen before showed clips from all the seasons of Downton and literally counted down the minutes to the first episode of the last season.

I've had TV series before that I could hardly wait for the next episode -- 'Upstairs, Downstairs,' 'Northern Exposure,' 'Boston Legal.'

And book series that sometimes required years of waiting for the next one -- Harry Potter and The Wheel of Time. (The latter involved my making threats against Brandon Sanderson's car tires. Though, to be fair, any poor soul who started reading Wheel at the beginning had to wait more than 22 years for the final volume to be published. Still, I did have to wait almost three years for A Memory of Light, the final volume in that 14-volume fantasy series.)

But I digress.

Two Hershey candy bars and countless complaints got me through that last hour. And we were away! A hunt with lots of dogs and horses coursing through the English countryside, after which my husband took his book and went to bed. He does like dogs and horses, but has little interest in the manners and mores of the English aristocracy.

Was it worth the wait?

This First Episode set the stage for the rest of Season Six. The cloud of Green's death was banished from Anna and Bates and now they can get on about their family plans. Carson and Mrs. Hughes, with a little help from our ever-practical Mrs. Patmore, can now get on with their plans. Edith is set on her future road. Earl Grantham saves Mary and proves himself more than just a man completely disassociated from reality.

And best of all, The Dowager Countess takes care of the trouble-making Miss Danker.

If you missed last night's First Episode of the Last Season, you can watch it online, just click here. And enjoy. It's all here -- the characters, the clothes, the posh houses, and lush English countryside all wrapped around intrigues and conflicts enough to make us forget this ridiculous American presidential campaign cycle. At least for one hour and seven minutes.

That's right, it started at 9:00 and lasted until seven minutes after 10:00. Had the news been on the same channel, it would have been delayed. How on earth did anyone come up with a TV episode time like that? Thank goodness for PBS. Only football gets to go over the hour.

Janis: Little Girl Blue

Janis: Little Girl Blue, Official Trailer

Instead of a still pic of Janis, I'm putting up the Official Trailer. Give it a watch. I think you'll enjoy it.  For Janis, you need sound and color and motion. The Amy Berg documentary has it all and more.

I heard about Janis: Little Girl Blue on NPR December 1. I wanted to see it, but where was it showing? It supposedly aired on PBS's American Masters on November 25 which should mean that I could stream it on my TV at home. Easy-peasy, no driving. Wear what I'm wearing. Have a nice whatever I want to eat and drink. Sounded lovely. But it was not meant to be. Janis: Little Girl Blue doesn't show up on PBS's American Experience website.

Surely it'd be showing somewhere in Denver. Yup. December 4, 7:30, The Sie FilmCenter. Of which I'd never heard. Located on East Colfax which was somewhere downtown.

The Sie FilmCenter is separated from The Tattered Cover by a sort of alleyway re-purposed for outdoor dining. I've been to the bookstore several times, but had never noticed the theater. You get me near a bookstore or library and I can't see anything else.

Colfax is Denver's primary east/west surface street. I knew how to get there. Except, it was December 4, the first of two holiday Parade of Lights. The parade would cross Colfax west of the theater -- that was between me and my destination. An alternative route would be necessary.

No problem. I'd just go the way I go to the Denver Museum of Nature and Science, my favorite place in Colorado. Cut north to Colfax and voila, I'm there.

Thank goodness, my daughter was with me, navigating. Who'd a thought the traffic would be so bad?! Guess it was Friday night in the big town with a parade that traditionally brought people into downtown by the hundreds, maybe thousands, from what I was seeing. And, like me, those folks weren't used to driving downtown in the dark with roads closed for a parade.

We got to the theater in plenty of time, took the elevated down from the parking garage to a subterranean theater lobby complete with bar and snack bar. And me, I thought I was so grown up at my regular movie theater where I can get a nice cappuccino and popcorn. Here I could get a nice margarita and popcorn.

We got to the window and Janis was sold out. BUT, we could take a number and see if anyone who'd bought a ticket online then cancelled or whatever, didn't show up, in which case we could buy those tickets, but we'd probably have to sit in the front row and may not be able to sit together. They'd let us know in about ten minutes.

I'd just driven through that traffic. The parade hadn't started yet and getting home would still be through that mess. The next showings of Janis: Little Girl Blue were sold out. My bad attitude was ignited and I wasn't about to come back downtown again anytime soon.

It worked out that we got two seats together and the front row seats have high backs so it was surprisingly comfortable to lean back and watch the show. And with the audience all behind me, it was as if they didn't exist. It was just Grace and I, our entire field of vision filled with the sights and sounds of my youth.

The documentary is very well-done. Lots of footage of Janis performing. It's matter-of-fact about the difficulties of being Janis Joplin, but not dreary. She did everything, be happy or be sad, full-tilt, just like she performed. And the film shows that.

Janis also has snippets from her letters to her family and interviews with her brother and sister that were enlightening and comforting. You get the idea that her family loved her and cared about her, kinda like the rest of us.

Janis: Little Girl Blue with its sights and sounds from an intense and turbulent time in our nation and lives brings back Janis's own passionate exhibition of that longing and laughter.

It was more than worth driving home in Downtown Denver traffic. All the lights and noise and people on the street just extended the experience.

P.S. I misread when Janis: Little Girl Blue will air on PBS's American Masters. It's next year some time. So we can all watch it again without the traffic.

P.P.S. Still glad I got to see it on the big screen.

Death Comes to Pemberley and Unnatural Causes -- Conjoined Reviews

image from bbcshop.com

  Kudos to the BBC production of “Death Comes to Pemberley” adapted by Juliette Towhidi from P.D. James’s novel of the same name. Which was an homage to Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.  

I watched the first of the two episodes of the television production, then read Ms. James’s novel before the second episode aired. As it turns out, I much preferred the TV production to the book.

  I don’t think anyone has ever heard me say that before. Well, there was Gone with the Wind. The movie was reissued and I saw it while I was in high school. Then I read the book. My teenaged and early adult self liked the movie better than Ms. Mitchell’s novel. Why? Because watching the movie I could believe that Scarlet was merely a victim of her times, doing what she had to to keep Tara going. And, of course, there was Rhett Butler/Clark Gable. And I wanted to believe he would come back. In the book, it was pretty obvious that Scarlet did what she wanted to to get what she wanted when she wanted it. And I thought she deserved to lose him. So, still being a romantic, I liked the movie version better.

  My mature self prefers the novel because I understand that what she did was amoral, but effective. She made sure that both she and Tara survived. And I admire her determination. She would come out on top, no matter what.

  But that’s not what I come here to talk about. This is about Jane Austen’s characters through the mind of P.D. James remolded by the BBC.

  The TV production follows James’s plot very closely with a few changes of who does what when and where. It makes wonderful use of Lizzie’s parents and sister Lydia, bringing humor to what could easily have been a dreary drama. Mrs. Bennet is the shallow, status-seeking, hypochondriacal woman we remember from Austen. And Lydia is her mother’s daughter (Bless her heart.) – a shamelessly self-centered drama queen. And dear Mr. Bennet is a sensible, tolerant man who hides in the library.

  Lizzie and Darcy are devoted to each other within the limits of their natures. Conflict. Conflict. And there’s even a sex scene which neither Ms. Austen nor Ms. James ever wrote for these characters.

  If the novel had not been written by the P.D. James, it would never have been picked up by any of the major publishers. Written from the point of view of an omniscient narrator who has no part in the story, it breaks the primary rule of current writing fashion by telling us rather than showing us.

  A good 85% of it is expository writing – another no-no in modern fiction. However, this I actually liked. It told me about the times. The modes of travel, dress, class distinctions, architecture, and manners. All things for me to think about.

  The novel hardly played the Bennets at all. And the romance between Darcy and Elizabeth is maudlin at best. Darcy is portrayed as having lost not only his arrogance but his independence because he is so overcome with love of Lizzie. Give me a break! A man like that could not hold the interest of Elizabeth Bennet – the Elizabeth Benet we all know and love from Ms. Austen would not love a besotted Darcy even for all the wealth and status which Ms. James keeps reminding us of.

  I’ve enjoyed James's stories on Masterpiece Mysteries all these years. Were they rewritten to make them exciting and suspenseful? I’d never read James before and I wondered how she could have received all the awards and recognition she has if Pemberley is an example.

  So I read Unnatural Causes, her third book. I like traditional murder mysteries. And I liked this one. Published in 1967, it precedes Death Comes to Pemberley published in 2011. In Unnatural Causes all the characters had motive, opportunity, and access to the means of murder. The climax is exciting and satisfying. In the tradition of her countrywoman Agatha Christy, Ms. James summarizes the plot and dastardly deed in the dénouement.

  In one scene James describes Adam Dalgliesh, her Scotland Yard detective, opening his bedroom window during the beginning of a storm coming in from the sea:

          “The wind rushed into the room swirling the bed cover into folds,
           sweeping the papers from his desk and rustling the pages of his
           bedside Jane Austen like a giant hand.”

Just so, she connected her genre to Ms. Austen forty-four years prior to publishing Pemberley.

  She marked Dalgliesh, as a writer of poetry as well as an Austen aficionado. She even includes an example of his poetry. (Creditable, but it would never make it on a slam stage.) I do not know whether she gave him those attributes as an inside joke or to give him some distinctive characteristic like the fastidious Poirot or the fiddle-playing opium user Holmes. Whichever, it works for me.

  I will read more of her mysteries but no more of her Austen. And I will continue to watch PBS's Masterpiece Mystery!

Editors! Who Needs 'em?

 

   I do. That's who. Everyone who writes for public consumption does. And we need editors for lots of reasons.

   This is a picture of a page from Murder on Ceres, my science fiction murder mystery. Please note all the red ink. That's from my editor. The green is mine.

   I use Spell Check, Google, The American Heritage Dictionary, and Microsoft's Synonyms. I read Isaac Asimov and John Lescroat. I watch Neil deGrasse Tyson and Masterpiece Mystery! on PBS. I am prepared to write (and rewrite) this book.

   Still my manuscript comes back from the editor with blood all over it.

   I read and watch lots of other things, all of which increase my vocabulary. A large vocabulary, unfortunately, does not guarantee clear communication. The picture above is an excellent example.

   In this scene my protagonist is verbally assaulted by his aunt as she takes him in to talk to his uncle. I wrote, "Unaware of his wife's broadside, Dmitri stood and extended his hand."

   My editor wrote in red,  "of her what? It sounds like you're talking about her butt."

   Obviously my editor was crazy. Where did she get THAT?

   Did I mention that I have a long history of reading naval war books?

   So, enter a twenty-something man. I read to him the passage as I had written it, assuming his reading background was sufficient to make familiar to him the term "broadside." And he blurted, "What did he do to her butt?"

   Definitely a laugh-out-loud moment.

   I think my choices are to change the word or send a copy of Patrick O'Brian's Master and Commander to all who buy my book with the requirement that they read it first so they will be properly prepared to read my book.