Dropping in a Tome

I can remember being as young as six and needing books around me constantly, though I wasn't sure I could read well. I liked books, the feel of them especially, but if I had been born a few years later, I would most certainly have been put on medication for attention problems because I had trouble getting through books.

Eventually, I had teachers who insisted on teaching great writing and, through them, I learned to read. For real-- with depth and inquisitiveness. Great books continue to shape and change how we read and, for that, we must partly thank librarians. Although libraries may seem like dinosaurs now, there is nothing quite like sitting, reading, thinking, writing, and researching in one, among rows and rows of tomes and tomes.

For a few years, I served as Copy Editor for The John Whitmer Historical Association Journal. Each year, one member serves as President and, in 2019, my friend-- the librarian and archivist Rachel Killebew-- was chosen. The President honorarily gives a speech at the conference each year and I wrote this poem to introduce Rachel. Our mutual friend, JWHA Executive Director Cheryle Grinter read the poem prior to her remarks.

Dropping in a Tome

For better or for worse,

we are readers, researchers.

Our eyes have weakened

from pouring over tomes.

Yet, we would have it

no other way

for, in a book, there are

worlds opened up to us

And the bringer of those worlds

is the librarian, the archivist.

She allows us to drop into

the paper, spelunk in its ideas.

For her, we are grateful.

For without her, we are left

with a world less adventurous,

less artful, less remarkable.

To the librarian! In an age

where books are often

electronic things with no feeling

of the scratchy paper and hardcovers,

may she always bring

the Gospel of a more

sophisticated time, where our entry

into the real world was through a book.

2022 in Perspective

Greetings as we ring out the old and ring in the new!

I want to thank those of you who have supported the new website and Facebook page this year. All a writer really wants is to be read and so I thank those of you who show up on Friday for content on the blog.

Well, what has happened at the writer’s desk this year…?

In 2022, I decided to read a play a day. First off, the mountains of books I’ve inherited, purchased, and stolen were begging to finally be read, but I also needed a brush-up on the craft of playwriting. It had been eight years since my last play when I completed two new full-length works early this year. Since there had been such a lag in time, I decided to get limber again with the practice of daily reading.

A few of the 365 read.

Now, doing any one thing every day takes discipline and there were many busy days in 2022, so I won’t lie to you—sometimes the plays were as short as Christopher Durang’s One Minute Play, but I also read plays as long as five acts plus musical libretti, opera libretti, and (in one instance) a screenplay. I could not possibly report on all of them (or perhaps even remember them all), but some of the highlights of the reading year were getting to know some of the more recent plays of Neil LaBute, David Mamet, and Austrian Nobel-winner Elfriede Jelinek; lesser-known translations of the great comic French playwright Jean Giraudoux; the meaty middle and later plays of Edward Albee, the gothic late work of Tennessee Williams, the (almost) complete plays of the Midwestern Master Lanford Wilson, the complete short plays of Samuel Beckett, and the lesser known plays of William Inge.

Sometimes these plays were read at lunch in the car (I was taught to read full-length plays in a span of 45-50 minutes to better “see” the overall structure), sometimes in the morning before work, even in hotels during vacations. It is a practice I’m considering keeping on in 2023 because there are thousands more plays in that barn behind the house that deserve reading and/or re-reading.

I’m happy to report the two new plays mentioned previously are getting ready for rewrites this winter. One is the most autobiographical work of my life (Wilson’s Lemon Sky gave me permission to write that one) and the other is a complete 180—a thriller about escaping from religious cults. Excited to see where both go in the new year and to see if another production might be around the corner.

COVID glamor shot from OK Hotel.

I did mention hotels! Yes, there were two mini-vacations in the mix. I was blessed to participate in a friend’s wedding in Oklahoma. That was back in February when those windy plains nearly knocked us all over during the nuptials. I had never visited the state and was fascinated by its built-in protections from tornadoes—the interstate signs were weighted by steel at least the width of two basketballs. Oh, and I was in full-blown Omicron right before the wedding, so I spent most of the trip in the hotel room (reading plays and doing rewrites on the cult play). Nevertheless, to share in the union of those in love was uplifting. Later in the year, a quick jaunt to the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee gave a brief reprieve for what had been a very busy fall (busy living, not so much writing).

As far as the old—approaching forty makes you start watching the minutes on the clock. Having lost my father last year, I find myself around increasingly older/sicker people (and I’m aging as well—help me!!!) and this befalls not just the humans, but the lowlier (to-the-ground) species. My oldest cat Macey is 15 and will be 16 (God willing) in March of 2023. Health problems have started—edging on hyperthyroidism, ravenous eating but little weight gain, a curious aversion to the litter box. She’s slowing down. I try to treasure each moment she still purrs on my lap as I try to write.

Macey Jane, full slumber.

As far as the new—well, there was the car and the phone and the day-job, but this is not one of those awful Christmas letters where I tell you about how Uncle Jed did this year in the hog-tying contest, so we’ll talk about the book instead. Although prepared last year, I was able to release (thought my own imprimatur, Holly Grove Press), both hardcover and paperback versions of the humbly titled Everyone Else is Wrong (And You Know It): Criticism/Humor/Non-Fiction.

The new book.

I had dreamed of this title and book many, many years ago and finally had the opportunity during COVID to assemble most of my prose work from roughly 2008 to 2020 and create a miscellany (literally everything but the kitchen sink). Though I acknowledge the book is no masterpiece, it did give me the opportunity to anthologize the road toward my learning how to wrestle my own prose style to the ground. As an undergraduate, my prose was clunky (I only wrote plays the first five years of my writing life). Most of that found prose voice is shared through critical writing as the largest section in the book are film reviews. Back in ’12-’13, I was hired as a writer for an A/V website called Moon Beach Island, which hosted reviews of movies and television. Being paid to write was the dream and I still giggle at some of the lines of some of the lines in the reviews, though some of those giggles are for embarrassments. Around the same time, I freelanced humor pieces to a website called The Studio Exec. All these pieces, plus many more found their way into the book. Eighty-five pieces in all. It’s fun to see a book that big with your name on it (sorry it’s so expensive, but them’s the breaks in our world).

Musician pretending.

In addition to falling back in love with writing, I also rediscovered my love of playing percussion instruments. I was able to play two gigs this year! As a performer of Afro-Cuban percussion instruments, I got to play for one religious service and one Halloween party with Errick Smith and the Cash Domino Killers. Both experiences left me feeling electrified, though my fingertips were in quite a bit of pain by the end of that weekend as I had not played in many years previous.

Coincidentally, I also got to attend my first few concerts in a while with a night of John Williams music at the Alabama Symphony Orchestra and an EP release from my good friend—rapper Eric Marable, Jr. (performing under the pseudonym Daan Rana). I also got to take in my first Birmingham Barons minor league baseball game in a while (an opportunity to see my godson), experienced another beautiful Easter (after some storms threatened to rend the whole thing in twain), and spent July 4th on a boat cruising Lewis Smith Lake with family friends.

Atop the Smokies.

Rounding out the list, I read a novel for the first time in a while—Mark Z. Danielewski’s House of Leaves—a massive “postmodern” horror novel that failed to deliver much in me but light giggles as it does have some terrific slights toward “academic writing.” I also attended the online, premiere screening of a new short film, Trying to Find Chinatown, adapted from a ten-minute play by David Henry Hwang, my favorite playwright since I started reading plays.

Finally, I got a chance to have a much-needed surgery on my left knee. The whole thing was successful—an old work injury—though the knee will have to be replaced at some point in the future. During my convalescence, I spent an awful lot of the time off watching movies from my beloved Robert Altman, taking care of animals, and experiencing that vulnerable feeling after someone has performed major trauma on you—that vulnerability made a little worse by the (perhaps) too-strong analgesic included.

At any rate, a year with a book, two new plays, and a fresh start at writing is nothing to snurl one’s nose up toward. In perspective, 2022 was going to be better than 2020 or 2021 with almost no competition, but despite its bordering-on-desperation lows, perhaps we will find ourselves slouching toward a more forgiving, less damning society. Any skeptical person has their doubts, but let’s throw a little hope in there for auld lang syne.

This should also be a time to look back on the artists we’ve lost this year that touched my life and perhaps had something to do with who I became. For me, artists are the people who really keep us dreaming, so a little “in memoriam seemed” appropriate. These lists are only as current as the time of the writing. In roughly chronological order, and divided by profession—some artists who meant something to me or, at the very least, left their mark on this old world.

Actors

Film—

William Hurt, a deeply serious and fine actor who left us dozens of strong performances, most notably in Body Heat, The Big Chill, Children of a Lesser God, A History of Violence, and (on television) Goliath.

Ray Liotta, the steely-eyed actor who held his own among the consummate cast of Goodfellas, his breakout role.

Pat Carroll, the inimitable voice of Ursula in The Little Mermaid—in addition to her work as a comedienne.

Paul Sorvino, a staple of New York filmmaking for decades; impressive in movies as disparate as Dick Tracy and Oliver Stone’s Nixon.

David Warner, the slightly-sinister, slightly-dapper English character actor who typically found himself in dumb Hollywood schlock; nevertheless, he’s best remembered by American audiences for a role as a sneaky valet in Titanic.

James Caan, the kinetic bad boy who joined the top film actors in the world in The Godfather and came back with a vengeance in a little movie called Misery.

Leon Vitali, the longtime assistant of Stanley Kubrick who appeared in several of his films, most notably as an antagonist in Barry Lyndon and Red Cloak from Eyes Wide Shut.

Angela Lansbury, as far as I’m concerned, was the grand Dame of the stage on both sides of the Atlantic. On film, she was a brilliant dramatic actress (The Manchurian Candidate), but I suppose my generation knows her best from Disney fare like Bedknobs and Broomsticks and Beauty and the Beast. A warming screen presence.

Robert Altman veterans: Sally Kellerman, the original, husky-voiced “Hot Lips” from M*A*S*H; Fred Ward, a craggy-faced, contemplative actor who did some of his best work in Short Cuts; Philip Baker Hall, the consummate character actor who shined as Nixon in Secret Honor became a favorite of Paul Thomas Anderson in his later career, giving a truly bravura performance in Magnolia; L. Q. Jones, the veteran actor of Westerns who already experienced his own living eulogy in A Prairie Home Companion.

TV—

Howard Hesseman occasionally gave solid performances in films, but he led two very funny sitcoms during the form’s heyday: WKRP in Cincinnati and Head of the Class.

Dwayne Hickman may not be remembered at all today, but in the 1950s, he was the lead in one of the funniest (and most slyly subversive) sitcoms of its day, The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis.

Estelle Harris was a versatile actress of film and TV, but was best known, of course, as George’s long-suffering mother in Seinfeld.

Bernard Cribbins had a very successful British TV career but, of all his roles, he was most well-known for his hysterical appearance as a spoon salesman mistaken for a hotel inspector in a classic episode of John Cleese and Connie Booth’s Fawlty Towers.

You may have known Larry Storch from a few live action series like F Troop, but my generation heard him most often as a prolific voice actor for children’s television.

Leslie Jordan was only a hit in his last few years, entertaining millions on social media. I first knew him as the diminutive but deadly Bernard Ferrion, nemesis to James Spader’s Alan Shore on Boston Legal, but enjoyed him equally in a short-lived series called The Cool Kids, which deserved a longer run.

While Robbie Coltrane is, of course, world-famous as Hagrid (and was well known as a great funny man), it was the gritty, grimy UK series Cracker that showed the layers of his talent.

Kevin Conroy—On Facebook and the blog this year, I analyzed all the live-action Batmans, but hands down, in terms of vocal performances, Conroy’s takes the cake. His death meant a great deal to Bat-fans.

Kirstie Alley—although her occasional dramatic work got little notice, Alley was the replacement cast member on Cheers who shined in a very different way than her forebear. While in later life, she was more associated with controversial social views, she clearly had talent and excellent comic timing.

Twin Peaks Veterans—As a Twin Peaks fanatic, I must also acknowledge the deaths of Kenneth Welsh (season two villain Windham Earle), Lenny von Dohlen (l’ame solitaire Harold Smith), and Al Strobel (the one-armed man).

Theatre—

Ernest Abuba was a noted Filipino American actor who performed in the original cast of Stephen Sondheim’s Pacific Overtures and did much for Asian American theatre, though movie fans might remember him from 12 Monkeys.

Comedians

Louie Anderson killed onstage. Every time. He had a great act that only occasionally poured over into work in film and TV, including an Emmy Award-winning performance in Baskets.

Bob Saget was more a ubiquitous presence for me than a favored one. He was, of course, well known for Full House and known in smaller circles as the bluest of blue comedians. However, I liked him best when he was simply being interviewed, especially by the late, great Norm Macdonald.

Gilbert Gottfried was a unique comic with one of the more unique voices (used to perfection in Disney’s Aladdin). On the cusp of the most cutting-edge offensive comedy, he had few rivals in that department.

Gallagher was everywhere in the 1980s. People loved him. As a prop comic, he was always going to get the short end of the stick. But funny is funny. Gallagher was funny.

Singers

Meat Loaf. Big. Soulful. The Bat Out of Hell albums are all fun, but singles like “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” and videos like “I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)” are highlights for me.

The lead singer of the Ronettes, Ronnie Spector had a voice which was burned in all of our brains if for no other reason that she sang on one of the best recordings of all time—“Be My Baby.”

Part of the mother-daughter act the Judds, Naomi Judd had a rich, lilting harmony that complimented her daughter’s voice beautifully. The ‘80s were not the best time for country music (nor is our present age), but the Judds were on the brighter side of that decade with touching and catchy songs.

The namesake for Grease’s alma mater, Bobby Rydell was a classic singer from the early days of rock’n’roll, perhaps best known for his cover of “Volare.”

C. W. McCall’s biggest hit was “Convoy,” the novelty song inspiration for Sam Peckinpah’s film.

Mickey Gilley was another country singer who found fame mostly in the ‘80s with songs like “Don’t the Girls All Get Prettier at Closing Time.”

Julee Cruise, a pop-art singer from the early ‘90s who sung the haunting words of the Twin Peaks theme “Falling;" her work could be heard in both original seasons and David Lynch’s moving installation Industrial Symphony No. 1.

Olivia Newton-John was a sometime actress, but it was her perfect, belting voice that everyone remembered. Added for the film version of Grease, her “Hopelessly Devoted to You” is my favorite of her recordings.

The Killer himself, Jerry Lee Lewis, was my favorite of the boys from Louisiana and Tennessee who changed the world in the mid-1950s with rock’n’roll music. Cousin to Mr. Gilley. Lewis also had a successful Nashville career with great country tunes and could still rock well into his seventies.

Loretta Lynn might have lived in Hurricane Mills, but she was a hurricane herself—a force not to be reckoned with. A savvy, intelligent businesswoman with songs that spoke to just about everyone who knows what it’s like to do and be without.

Irene Cara’s vocal performances on the themes for Fame and Flashdance are ‘80s pop music in a nutshell. Those songs are always at full volume on my radio.

Directors

Robert Allan Ackerman was a director known for his theatrical work. In the early '80s, he directed some of the first productions of David Henry Hwang’s plays, including the black comedy Family Devotions, which was nominated for a Drama Desk Award.

Peter Bogdanovich was one of the many great directors who ruled motion pictures in the early 1970s. Known for homages to his beloved screwball comedies of the 1930s, some of his best work is in The Last Picture Show and Paper Moon.

John R. Cherry, III was no master director, but any kid who grew up in the early ‘90s saw the Ernest P. Worrell movies. Cherry, along with Jim Varney, created the character of Ernest and it shot off like a rocket, leading to nine movies, all directed with dumb, stupid love by Cherry.

The legendary theatre (and occasional theatre) director Peter Brook, whose productions of The Persecution and Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Charenton Under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade and A Midsummer Night’s Dream were emblematic of the finest and/or most innovative British theatre of the twentieth century.

Wolfgang Peterson was a German director best known for Das Boot, but he was equally adept with epic fantasies, the most nostalgic for me is perhaps his adaptation of the first half of Michael Ende’s novel The NeverEnding Story.

The pioneer of the French New Wave, Jean-Luc Godard was best known as the director of Breathless and for influencing the new generation of Hollywood directors who emerged in the late 1960s.

The collaborator of Arthur Rankin, Jr., Jules Bass co-produced Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and directed Frosty the Snowman and The Little Drummer Boy, classic television specials from the heyday of Christmas specials.

Designers

Visual effects artist Douglas Trumbull largely made 2001: A Space Odyssey and Blade Runner the films they were with breathtaking designs and visionary images, most notably the Stargate sequence in 2001.

The British Production Designer Tony Walton created the looks for some classic Broadway productions, including Pippin and A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum in addition to film work like Mary Poppins.

Producer

Alan Ladd, Jr., as a studio executive, recognized and supported the early work of filmmakers like Robert Altman and George Lucas and was partly responsible for films like Gone Baby Gone and Braveheart.

Composers

Harrison Birtwistle was a British composer of classical music. Known for his operas (such as The Minotaur), he also created the score for Mr. Brook’s legendary production of The Oresteia for the National Theatre.

Vangelis was the Greek composer of Blade Runner and Chariots of Fire, the latter of which is one of the more recognizable scores in film history.

Lucy Simon wrote the score for the Broadway musical The Secret Garden, one of the few perfect musicals to come out of the 1990s.

Ned Rorem was an important composer of the American art song, also creating operas (including an adaptation of Our Town) and works for orchestra and solo piano.

Angelo Badalamenti composed dozens of film scores, but it was his work with David Lynch on Twin Peaks that created one of the most haunting soundscapes in all of television.

Writers

James Rado and Gerome Ragni were the New York actor-lyricists who created Hair, the counterculture musical that brought the downtown theatre scene uptown in the late 1960s and produced fine songs like “Easy to Be Proud,” “Good Morning Starshine,” “Aquarius,” and “Let the Sunshine In.”

Charles Fuller was an important African American playwright, best known for Zooman and the Sign and A Soldier’s Play (which he adapted for film as A Soldier’s Story).

Michael Feingold was a noted and prickly theatre critic, plus a sometime playwright and translator.

Animator

Everett Peck not only worked on my favorite childhood cartoon The Critic, but he created the criminally underrated Duckman: Private Dick/Family Man.

Top 10 Christmas Movies

Just in time for Christmas, I share with you my top 10 Christmas movies. This, and other lists, can be found in the Hardcover or Paperback version of Everyone Else is Wrong (And You Know It): Criticism/Humor/Non-Fiction.)

10. The Family Stone (2005)

The brood assembled.

A dysfunctional family at Christmastime rears its ugly head in this movie, which I think is worth a second look.

9. The Santa Clause (1994)

Tool Man and Boy

For my money, the mythos of Santa Claus was never explained better than in this flick, which is funny and enduring. Those miserable sequels should go to the dogs, but this one is a keeper.

8. The Nightmare before Christmas (1993)

A truly great shot.

Perfect for Christmas and for Halloween!

7. The Lion in Winter (1968)

"Shall we hang the holly, or each other?"

While not a Christmas movie per se, this film is the perfect holiday film about another dysfunctional family. The family, however, happens to be the Plantagenets and their reason for holiday jeer is who will ascend to the throne after King Henry II (Peter O’Toole) dies. Back then, it wasn’t necessarily the first born, though Anthony Hopkins (in an early role) is certainly vying for it. Based on the classic James Goldman play and about as well acted as any movie ever (Katherine Hepburn shared an Oscar for Best Actress), this movie is worth putting in your queue.

6. Home Alone (1990)

We got him, Marv!

This is one of the most successful movies ever made and it’s easy to see why. When I was a kid, what I loved were the sight gags and physical comedy. Over time, what the movie has to say about family and togetherness has become what is really touching. Home Alone 2: Lost in New York, while sillier, can be fun too.

5. Elf (2003)

You can tell Caan wants to punch Ferrell.

This film was almost an instant classic. Will Ferrell’s most accessible movie (for non-believers) creates something quite unusual in movies: pure, unadulterated joy.

4. It’s a Wonderful Life (1946)

Aw.

It may not always feel like the truth, but Frank Capra’s classic film makes you believe it really is a wonderful life. With a strong performance by James Stewart at its center, this movie is a reminder that you matter.

3. The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)

Delight in film form.

I would argue this and Mickey’s Christmas Carol are the best versions of Dickens’ tale. They get right to the heart of the story. Michael Caine is superb and Paul Williams’ song “It Feels like Christmas” deserves to be a holiday standard.

2. National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (1989)

May we blink?

The new holiday tradition for everyone I know: sit around with the family and watch this movie (muting curse words occasionally for the kids) and mutter to each other, “It feels like we just watched this.”

1. Love Actually (2003)

I'm a creeper.

I can hear you groaning already, but this one really does tug at my heartstrings. An epic romantic comedy set at Christmas time, featuring terrific performances by Liam Neeson, Hugh Grant, Keira Knightley, and just about half of the talent in the U. K. The “Juliet, Peter, and Mark” story with Knightley, Chiwetel Ejiofor, and Andrew Lincoln is enough to melt even the iciest heart.

Merry Christmas, Everybody!