More than a comedy

          Good evening, 919 Gang. Mary and I took time out during our thrill-a-minute vacation to see the movie “Hello, My Name Is Doris.” I don’t think this film has received the attention it deserves, and I recommend it. Everyone is calling it a comedy, and certainly there are laughs and a lot of warmth, but see if you agree with me that about three-fourths through the movie one decides this is a very sad story.

          Sally Field is simply outstanding as a woman who was dedicated to caring for her mother, and while she was doing that, life passed her by. Tyne Daly doesn’t have a big role, but I enjoyed her performance.

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          CECIL SCAGLIONE writes:

          Thank you Michael Grant and Don Bauder for heads-upping everyone about my system being hacked. Whoever wanted me to be in the Philippines walked off with my address book. Don’t know how they work it but they stole all but a dozen or so addresses from the several hundred that were in my address book. Those remaining did not receive the urgent-send-money message. So I have to rebuilt my address book.

          Complicating my end was being on the road when the message was sent out Thursday morning to the hacked list and I couldn’t get back to anyone until returning home late Monday. My son called my wife’s cell phone to alert us, and I managed to change my password within hours of the hack but, of course, it was hours too late. The only good thing to come out of this was that I’ve heard from several friends I hadn’t heard from for decades, including one from a city room long ago in a daily in another country.

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          DAVID FARMER writes:

          I took a P.E. class in archery in college. I learned enough to know there are several things Jennifer Lawrence is doing wrong in this movie poster:

  

          For one thing, her fingers on the bowstring are not tensed enough to really be pulling the string back. This has to be a Photoshop creation. Okay, you say, artistic license. But something that would actually be dangerous is the way she's holding the arrow with her left hand. If she lets fly that way, the feathers on the arrow will lacerate her index finger. If she moves the finger just before firing, she'll alter her grip and change the arrow's direction, even if minutely.

          Mainly, though, I urge her to avoid standing next to birds that are on fire. A spark could easily ignite her very snug clothing.

          Now, a purely artistic comment. Note how the arch of the bowstring and the line of the arrow lead the eye to her pectoralis major. Millions of adolescent boys must find that to be so. I would be surprised if Jennifer has not taken the place of an earlier poster girl, Farah Fawcett, on the bedroom walls of America's youth.

          That, at least, is probably the hope of the merchandising department of Lionsgate. Notice, as I was forced to do in my role as poster critic, how subtle highlights and shadows emphasize the location concerned.

          In my case, of course, I care only about the dynamic relationship between body, bow, and bosom--I mean arrow.

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          LESLIE WOLF BRANSCOMB writes:

          Re: Michael Grant's comment about the bird landing on Bernie Sanders' podium while he was giving a speech in Portland, Oregon -- I too saw the video, and it was cute, but I couldn't quite understand why the crowd went so crazy about this. It took my youngest daughter (age 18 and a Bernie fan) to explain it to me ... in the TV show Portlandia, which is all about Portland hipsters, there is a recurring theme about "put a bird on it" in which Portland dwellers go around putting bird stickers, paintings, whatever, on things, objects, cars, buildings, etc. I don't know why. It is one of those hipster millennial things that I have to admit I don't quite get. (And that's the point, of course; if your 55-year-old mom gets it, then it's not cool.) Anyway, that's why people in the audience (i.e. people younger than me) loved it so much. Contact me if you need any additional translations from English into Millennial-speak, as I have two consultants on site, aged 18 and 20.

          Also, Bob Hawkins, I always thought it was pronounced Amber-gree Kay. But what do I know. (Apparently, not much.) But your descriptions of life in Belize make me want to join the ex-pats.

          REBER: Perhaps the people younger than you can explain to me, Leslie, the meaning of “;P” at the end of an email message. This is from the son who holds our family’s record for the shortest email message. I had asked him to do something, and his email reply was “k”.

          KENT FREELAND writes:

          This is purely in the interest of journalistic accuracy:

          A 919 contributor reported a few days ago that a small bird had landed on Bernie Sanders' podium, causing a stir at a rally in Seattle.

          The news reports I saw said the rally was in Portland, not Seattle.

          But I don't expect, Jack, that you will get corrections from birds in either city...

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          STEVE OAKEY writes:

          Jack: Called up the CNN site a day after the Brussells bombings and the first foto showed a guy standing and staring at the airport carnage, and he could have been Bob Laurence’s twin. Was Bob passing through the airport in Brussells that day?

          REBER: I hope Bob answers this one.

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          JULIE PENDRAY forwards:

          Here's episode 3 in my impressionistic travelogue of a motor home trip across the U.S. & Canada with my American former husband in 1989. In this piece, we drive under a double rainbow, hike the Narrows in Zion and bake scones for a hiker who turned out to be an Indiana surgeon who had worked in a New Zealand hospital. Oh, and I included my mother's scone recipe. Thankfully, my family saved my postcards and I'm able to draw on them for recollections.

http://wp.me/p4K54k-1te

          GENE CIECHANOWSKI forwards:

          The MozART Group Polish string quartet shares their version of music of the Wild Wild West in this entertaining video.

Wild Wild West Music

          GENE CIECHANOWSKI forwards:

          Jonathan Winters and Robin Williams create some funny memories on Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show in this classic clip.

Jonathan Winters & Robin Williams

          JULIE PENDRAY forwards:

          Ortega Highway - A Sweet Day Trip A story in which I check out a rustic eatery that is celebrating its 60th anniversary this year.

http://wp.me/p4K54k-1tc

          GENE CIECHANOWSKI forwards:

          Amazing Aerial Hoop Performance

http://biggeekdad.com/2016/03/amazing-aerial-hoop-performance/

Jack J. Reber

P.O. Box 2239

Ramona, CA 92065

U.S.A.

2reberjack@gmail.com

Time out

          Good evening, 919 Gang. Mary and I are slipping away for a few days. We plan to return Thursday, March 31, and I figure to file that night.

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          ROBERT J. HAWKINS writes:

          David Farmer has tapped into one of this Belize island’s perennial conundrums, how to pronounce its name, Ambergris Caye.     The second part of the name is easy. All of Belize pronounces “caye” as “key.” All 200-plus islands within the 190-mile long barrier reef are cayes. Why, I can not tell you. But at least there is universal agreement.

          The pronunciation of Ambergris is as varied as the peoples who make up this country. Off the top of my head, we are Mayan, Mestizos, Mexican, Guatemalan, Honduran, Garifuna (Afro-Carib), Caribbean, German Mennonites (farming and home construction), Lebanese (shop owners), Chinese (“fast food” and supermarkets), Middle-Eastern (hardware stores), and Belizeans (hospitality, tourism, real estate). Then there are the large populations of expats -- mostly U.K, American and Canadian.

          Each brings its own twist to the pronunciation.

          As a leftover from the colonial days, English is the official language of government, law, education and commerce but most Belizeans can and do also speak Spanish and Creole. The Garifuna have their own language and a very distinct and colorful culture to which they have clung through times of horrible mistreatment at the hands of the English who didn’t like their very dark skin and African features.

          There is an official pronunciation of Ambergris but I don’t think anyone is quite sure what that is anymore.

          The first part, “amber” is almost universally pronounced the British way, “ahm-ber.” Americans with their flat “a” have popularized “amber.”

          So, there is a lot of Ahmber-GREASE (Spanish and English) and Am-ber-GRISS (Creole and American).

          Lately, I’m hearing an awful lot of Am-ber-GEESE. I kid you not.

          I favor “Ahm-ber-GRISS key.”

          Whatever the pronunciation, ambergris is aged sperm whale shit.

          Yes, big hardened clumps of the stuff once washed up on the island where it fetched a nice price. Perfumiers prized the ambergris for some reason or other. I do know that the older the secretions get, the sweeter they smell.

          Ambergris is a rarity these days. Though as the sperm whales come back from near extinction, perhaps we’ll find a new market for the stuff.

          Ambergris is secreted far out beyond the barrier reef and is brought to shore (well-aged) by the near constant east-to-west winds that wash over this island. Whales have been spotted recently in the southern part of the country, in the depths just beyond the reef. And coming up in June, during the full moon, the gigantic but gentle whale sharks will surface at night and let people rub their bodies. I hear they grow to more than 40 feet.

          But back to the whale secretions.

          Another form of scum seems to wash up on this island with regularity. These are people either fleeing or flouting the law.

          The most prominent is one-time security software giant John McAfee, a former resident who is wanted for questioning here in the murder of his next-door neighbor. They had a dispute over barking dogs. He is not officially a suspect, however. McAfee fled the country and I believe he is now living in Kentucky and running for president of the U.S. Most people who knew him here say he’s not a nice man.

          Most recently we had an ex-dentist from North Carolina try to set up a practice in San Pedro Town under a fake name. He is an “ex” because he was convicted of injecting his sperm into the mouths of female patients, claiming it was something to dull the pain. North Carolina revoked his license for life. That didn’t stop him from getting a license in Belize in record time, something that raised our suspicions. He, too, has fled the country in the face of an upcoming trial.

          Also fleeing the country recently was the former Mexico City chief of the Stanford Financial Group. After the billion-dollar scam collapsed, he fled to Ambergris Caye and lived here under another name for several years, investing $10 million into local real estate and government pockets. When he was arrested a judge released him on a $10,000 bail (that’s $5,000 USD) just ahead of extradition to Mexico. He disappeared.

          It goes on and on. Fugitives from justice seem to be arrested every couple of months.

          It can be very entertaining.

          As for David’s inquiry about my writing, I stay mostly with my blog “Bound for Belize.” I write when the spirit moves me. No deadlines. No editors (and it probably shows). And no advertising. The only two other bloggers of note sell ads and kiss way too much ass for free trips, hotels, meals and adventure tours.

          I have recently taken on the tiny staff of the island’s only newspaper as a personal project. I’m their Tuesday morning writing coach. They are bright and ambitious but have zero newspaper skills. The publisher is so happy she is slipping me $50 BZD ($25 USD) a week under the table, plus free coffee and muffins.

          As soon as I finish with them I hook up with a photographer and an aspiring novelist for a weekly meeting of the Royally (Bleeped) Up Writing Club, which mostly results in more coffee being consumed.

          And that is enough for one day.

          Thanks for the kind words David Farmer and Paul Omundson.

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          DAVID FARMER writes:

          This item contains literary and culinary elements--much like alphabet soup:

          Alphabet soup is the most articulate of our foodstuffs, as demonstrated above. That is, unless you are snacking on a mynah or dining in that obscure specialty restaurant at Donner Lake.

          To follow the complexities of my subject, you'll need to know something about the classics: Marc Antony pronounced Brutus's stabbing of Julius Caesar "the unkindest cut of all." Here he is in an early daguerreotype:

          Actually, it was Marlon Brando playing Antony who made the remark, and he got it slightly wrong. Marlon called the stab "the most unkindest cut of all." We all know that "unkindest" cannot be modified. Something that is the "--est" already can't get any more "--est", no matter how many lame modifiers you stick on the front.

          However, let's leave the late Marlon and his verbal flubs in peace. We are concerned here with a more recent matter. We took our little dog, Gracie, to see her veterinarian. The vet told us that Gracie is overweight. This is Gracie, appearing stunned after looking up "obese."

          The vet suggested that we feed Gracie green beans along with her regular food. So my wife, Hinda, instructed me to buy beans at Ralphs. However, Hinda made a mistake on the magnitude of Marlon Brando's. She told me not to buy full-length beans, but ones that were cut. Unfortunately, Gracie turned her very short nose up at them. So then my wife told me to go back and buy normal beans.

          I reacted in high dudgeon (dudgeon is always high, never low or mid-range). I demanded: "You want me to buy the un-cuttest kind of all?" Actually, something closely resembling that really happened in Chez Fermier. But the remark was not entirely original. I had seen a version before.

          At this point, you need some more literary history. In the early days of printing, books sometimes were produced with their pages joined not only at the spine, but at the outer edge. This required a reader to slice the pages apart. (Unless you wanted to skip every second page, which would not be a bad plan with some books I've read.)

          So one day long ago, an author is visiting a friend to whom he's given a novel. The friend effusively praises the book, says how much he enjoyed it. (You may see a punchline coming.) The author asks to examine the book and sees that the pages have not been sliced. He declares, "This, my friend, is the un-cuttest kind of all."

          Or maybe he said the most un-cuttest kind of all. Not all novelists are fully literate.

          Oh, and Gracie is losing weight on the green bean diet. She eats either long or short ones, as long as they're still frozen when we give them to her.

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          LESLIE WOLF BRANSCOMB writes:

          Ah yes, the Marshal South family. Quite a story. I wrote a little bit about them, only borrowing from past clips. But I believe J. Harry Jones and Irene McCormack know more, should they choose to share ...

          REBER: I hope they do write. The video I referred you to last night includes numerous quotes by two of the South children. The other child, however, wants nothing to do with the Ghost Mountain story, according to the fellow who made the video. He reported that the son changed his name and threatened his own son with being disinherited if he ever mentioned the Shadow Mountain years. This son took care of his mother in her last years (I think she lived past 90), so obviously it’s not her whom he was unhappy with. I read somewhere that the mother refused to do interviews for the last 50 years of her life.

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          MICHAEL GRANT writes:

          More birds: At a political rally in Seattle yesterday, a small bird – looked like a finch to me – landed on the speaker’s podium, to the great delight of the speaker and of the crowd.

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          DAVID FARMER writes:

          I read a commentary online by two students at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. The young man and woman were writing about social media on campus:

          "When social media first gained popularity, it was branded as a tool for bringing people together—and, as college students, it permeates every aspect of our lives."

          Where do I start? Best not.

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          DON BAUDER writes:

          In re Cecil Scaglione, from Mike Grant: Yesterday (Thursday) I left messages at both of Scag's phone numbers and also transferred the scam message to his email address, to let him know he has been hacked. I have not heard from him. If anybody hears from Scag, let him know he has been hacked.

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          MICHAEL GRANT writes:

          Frank Sinatra, and a few other singers (including my father), had 200-watt voices. He didn’t sing at 200 watts, but it was there. He sang at 75-100 watts, and all that power made it sound effortless.

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          REBER: I know of only two birthdays in the next few days. Happy Birthday, March 29, to Bob Laurence and Doug Williams.

Jack J. Reber

P.O. Box 2239

Ramona, CA 92065

U.S.A.

2reberjack@gmail.com