A champion humbled

          Good evening, 919 Gang. My father called me one day (from Oregon) to tell me he had entered a cowboy poetry contest. I found that surprising. My father had an eighth-grade education, and cowboy poetry is a lofty art form practiced by some high-performance people.

          He said he had seen an advertisement in a magazine inviting people to enter a cowboy poetry contest, and he was going to do that. He was retired, and I suggested he check out a junior college for a class on poetry. He scoffed at that, saying he already knew how to write poetry.

          A few months later he wrote again to tell me he had entered the contest and the outfit had written back to tell him he was one of their champions and to invite him to a convention and banquet in Las Vegas where the champions would be honored. He said he couldn’t afford to go.

          But he still could enjoy the honor of being a champion poet. He had small booklets containing his poems printed, and he distributed the booklets to all the libraries in the area. He also handled his own publicity, alerting all the small papers around Rogue River that they had a real live poet in the area. One paper was so impressed that the whole front page was a portrait of my father.

          It was a heady time, but at some point a question arose. He called the poetry contest people and he learned that they considered everyone who entered their contest to be a champion. Every single one. No, he was not a national hero, or even a state hero, or a county hero. He was just a guy who had entered a contest advertised in a magazine.

          He made the mistake of letting family members know of his embarrassment. Some were not kind at all.

          He did not stop writing poetry, but no more contests.

 

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          GLENDA WINDERS writes:

          I am grateful to Jack for this forum with which to reach many of my San Diego friends. My second novel, "Sainted in Error," releases today and is available at bookstores and online. On Saturday, Feb. 19, Kathi Diamant, whom many of you know, is hosting a reception where I will be signing books. Adventures by the Book is managing the event, and you can get one of the 60 available tickets for the price of the book by following this link:

adventuresbythebook.com/event/glenda-winders-sainted. 

          Because I can be in San Diego for only the one day, I so hope to see some of you there. 

 

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          REBER: We start a new month by wishing a Happy Birthday on Feb. 1 to Jan Rife and Arline Smith.

 

Jack J. Reber

P.O. Box 2239

Ramona, CA 92065-0938

United States

 

Maternity leave

 

          Good evening, 919 Gang. I was going to

 report that I am taking today off to attend my

 grandmother’s funeral, but Craig Rose 

reminded me I have already buried three 

grandmothers this year.

          Ah, these union rules are tough. Wait, I

 have it. I’m going to take one day of maternity

 leave. Surely that’s legal. I will be back 

tomorrow night – unless it’s twins.

          I don’t want to leave without wishing

 Nancee Lewis a Happy Birthday on Jan. 31.

 

Jack J. Reber

P.O. Box 2239

Ramona, CA 92065-0938

United States

 

An untimely newspaper

 

          Good evening, 919 Gang. You have to wonder: Is the pandemic just another alibi for newspaper companies looking to save money? Read the link David Gaddis Smith provides.

 

          DAVID GADDIS SMITH writes:

          The paper I worked at before coming to San Diego, the (Newport News) Daily Press, printed the front page without a day and date Wednesday, and had the wrong year.

          The paper sold the building I had worked in in 2014 and departed rented quarters in the city in 2020.

https://bit.ly/3s8RW3g

          P.S. Louise and I were going south on the 79 toward Santa Ysabel yesterday afternoon (Friday) and a big trash bag fell off an EDCO garbage truck, hit the road but then luckily bounced onto the shoulder and did not hit us ... Who knows what was in it. Thought of you driving through Ramona.

 

          REBER: So, a bouncing bag of garbage made you think of me. Thanks, I think.

 

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          CARL LARSEN writes:

          That cheering you heard the other day was from the board rooms of rogue banks, health insurers and other corporate ripoff artists celebrating the departure of LA Times consumer affairs columnist David Lazarus, who heads to TV full time. One less newspaper voice sticking up for embattled consumers. Here’s his last column.

https://www.latimes.com/business/story/2022-01-28/column-lazarus-wells-fargo-final-column

 

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          DAVID FARMER writes:

          I read a story in which a nurse said she was "hectored" by anti-vaccine people. She meant they complained at her in a loud, aggressive way. It reminded me that a surprising number of ancient Greek first names have been repurposed for use today. For example:

          Hector was a prince in the Trojan War. His name originally meant one who holds fast, but later came to mean a bully, a domineering person.

          Mentor was a wise, trusted advisor, a friend of Ulysses. It now means someone who guides a person, usually younger, often in the business world.

          Aegis was not a person, but the armor of Greek gods. It now means protection, as in doing something under the aegis of a powerful person or group.

          Ambrosia was the food and drink of the gods. It now means a delectable drink or a fruit dessert.

          Adonis was a shepherd loved by the goddess Aphrodite, but he was killed by a wild boar. His name now means an exceptionally handsome young man.

          Doris was a mythical sea nymph, member of the Dorian tribe in Greece. Her name survives as Doris Day's first name.

          Nike was the Greek goddess of victory, and lately her name has adorned shoes and missiles.

          Melissa meant "honey" and is now the first name of girls and women, including my daughter.

          Achilles was the bravest of the Greek heroes in the war against the Trojans. His name is now applied to tendons and, with the word heel, any serious susceptibility to attack by enemies.

          Atlas, in Greek mythology, was a man who supported the world on his shoulders. Now the name means a very strong man or a collection of maps.

          Calliope meant "beautiful voice" in Greek, but now refers to a noisy circus pipe organ.

          Cassandra was a Trojan princess with the gift of prophecy. But she was cursed so that no one would believe her.

          Meander was (and is) a very winding river in Turkey, and now means to wander casually.

          When we use these names, we're reaching back thousands of years into Greek or other mythologies, usually without knowing it.

 

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          RON HUTCHERSON suggests:

          For David Farmer, check the internet for the Silent Generation, those born from 1925 or thereabouts to 1945. That's our grouping--quiet, industrious and inventive.

 

 

Jack J. Reber

P.O. Box 2239

Ramona, CA 92065-0938

United States