Fizzy Thoughts

I swear I say this every year, but it bears repeating: I hate Daylight Saving Time. It’s just wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

For those of us who start work early (7am), driving to work IN THE FREAKIN’ DARK sucks.

And for those of us who like to go to bed early (because I like to be well rested for that 7am start time), knowing that in just a few short months it WILL BE FREAKIN’ LIGHT OUT when I want to go to bed…well, that sucks, too.

And for those of us who live with a surfer, again, life sucks right about now, because said surfer has to wait and wait and wait for it to get light in the morning so he can go surfing.

So. Let’s review. If you get up early and go to bed early, there is no good reason for DST. I have no desire to stay out late playing in the yard and I rarely sleep in, so why would I want it to stay lighter later and darker earlier (or is that darker later?)?

Also, it messes with my mind and makes me a little cranky. As if you couldn’t tell.

I’m already counting the days ’til Novmber 4th:

So I wrote a post on Cloud Atlas for yesterday, and boy was that exhausting. Good thing I haven’t read many books this month…that means there’s nothing waiting for a post!

Except Tucson. And that photography class from last month. *sigh*

But instead of fretting over words, I’ll just offer up some photos from last weekend (iPhone photos, though, so don’t get all excited):

Evidently I have a thing for cacti.

Words to follow…I promise.

After a week of not posting, I’m diving back in with my thoughts on the first half of David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas. My brain just might explode from the effort.

So Care and Melissa organized a readalong of Cloud Atlas, and since the book was sitting on the Shelf of Doom, I figured it was meant to be that I join in (if I was a more poetic person, I might use the word serendipity). We were to read the first half of the book by March 15th (which I did…I’m just a wee bit behind in the posting). And okay, I’ve finished the book already, but you’ll just have to wait until the end of the month for the rest of my thoughts. Hah!

The book: Cloud Atlas is often described as a series of nested stories. In the first half of the book, we’re introduced to five of our six characters and the first half of their stories. The stories are chronological, and fair warning, I’m about to give it all away:

The Pacific Journal of Adam Ewing

Adam Ewing, an American notary, recounts his experiences in the Chatham Islands (near about New Zealand) and his voyage home. This section is godawful boring (Adam is a priggish boor), which explains why I’ve quit this book before. But Care assured me that it gets better, so I soldiered ahead. And found:

Letters from Zedelghem

Robert Frobisher is a bisexual, gambling, scheming young composer cast out from his family and the family money (daddy is a religious man, hence the casting out). Desperate for some money and a place to stay, he flees London for Belgium and talks himself into a position helping a syphilitic composer continue to compose. Robert writes letters home to his former lover (my conclusion based on the Luisa story that comes later), Rufus Sixsmith. After the priggish ramblings of Mr. Ewing, Robert is great fun. He also stumbles across Adam Ewing’s journal. Inexplicably, he finds it entertaining.

Half-Lives: The First Luisa Rey Mystery.

Next up we have Luisa Rey, a young journalist living in Buenas Yerbas (a mythical city somewhere in California). Luisa is trapped in an elevator with Rufus Sixsmith (see above), who sets her on a story of corruption and cover-ups in the nuclear power industry. Luisa also stumbles upon a rare recording of the Cloud Atlas Sextet, composed by, you guessed it, Robert Frobisher. A note on Buenas Yerbas…I got the impression it was big, like LA, but also set between LA and San Francisco, which puts it in the vicinity of San Luis Obispo (my stomping grounds). Did you know we have a nuclear power plant here? Diablo Canyon (seriously, that’s the name). We also have an earthquake fault. Genius, no? Moving on…

The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish

Timothy Cavendish is a broke indie publisher who strikes it rich when his client offs a reviewer who pissed him of. And by offed, I mean chucked him over a balcony at a party, which turns out to be a sure-fire way to have your book make the best-seller list. After his client lands in jail, the client’s brothers come after Cavendish for money. Which he doesn’t have. After he appeals to his brother for help, his brother sends him off on vacation to escape the heat. However, it turns out the brother has him committed to a retirement home. And because we need some connection to Luisa, Cavendish has in his possession the manuscript “Half-Lives: The First Luisa Rey Mystery.” Are you starting to see how this works?

An Orison of Sonmi~451

Suddenly we’re in the future with Sonmi~451, a clone who works as a server in a cafeteria (evidently, it’s meant to be McDonald’s, but I missed that). I did finally figure out that the setting was Korea (aka Nea So Copros). Turns out Sonmi is quite the rebel. Her orison (speech or prayer) is the tale of how she became enlightened and tried to speak out for the rights of clones everywhere. In the midst of her enlightenment and rabble-rousing, she watches part of a movie: “The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish.” It was at this point that I was both 1) enthralled by Sonmi and where the story was going (because the world is in a world of hurt in Sonmi’s future) and 2) disturbed by the possibility that everyone’s story was just a story.

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So that’s the first half of Cloud Atlas. With the exception of the first story, I absolutely loved it. Robert and Luisa were initially my favorites, but Timothy grew on me, and Sonmi was great in a baffling, “what the hell is going on here” kind of way. I ended the first half and had to keep going…I wanted to find out what happened to everyone!

And in true softdrink fashion, I was less concerned with the themes. There are some recurring themes and symbols in the book (birthmarks and reincarnation, clouds, the fate of the planet…you know…serious shit like that), but I was just in it for the story.

Check back in later this month to see how that worked out for me in the end.

I’m pretty sure we’re on week 9 of A People’s Readalong. A (shrinking) group of us are reading one chapter a week from Howard Zinn’s classic history book, A People’s History of the United States. We hope to finish sometime in July. And now that we’ve moved to posting every other week, I’ve discovered that it’s just that much easier to procrastinate.

This may not be a change for the better after all.

This week’s (and last week’s) reading covers chapters 8 and 9. I thought chapter 8 (We Take Nothing By Conquest, Thank God (and if ever there was a chapter title chock full of irony, that’s the one)) was a bit of an odd duck, with it’s focus on the Mexican-American War. Sure, there’s the recurring theme of conquest (but only because people want it), but this chapter focused primarily on one war. One. Something that I was beginning to think Zinn was incapable of doing. Usually, he likes to pack in as much detail and facts and skirmishes and rebellions as he possibly can, so this chapter was almost refreshing in its lack of overwhelming fact (not that I generally consider war to be refreshing). Also, I pretty find military history mind-numbingly boring (I had to take an entire quarter of military history in college, and I still haven’t recovered from the trauma of listening to wanna-be soldier boys discuss and plot troop movements).

Anyhoosie. Chapter 8. Mexican-American War. More westward movement. The rich get richer. Who cares what the little people think about war. Forcible conscription. Senseless death. The US grows by leaps and bounds. Blah blah blah.

And that brings us to Chapter 9: Slavery Without Submission, Emancipation Without Freedom. I’m not really sure, but I think we cruised right by the Civil War (which is weird, since we just had a chapter that focused on another war). Zinn talks about how, for one brief shining moment, things were on track in the South after the Civil War (for example, blacks were voted into public office). And then, whammo. Things got ugly again. And no one of any importance (importance being those in power) cared.

I know, I sound a bit blase about it all. That’s because I’m ready to move on to some new themes. In my opinion, Zinn is a master at beating a dead horse.

I’m flying to Tucson, Tucson, Tucson, Arizona
I’m flying to Tucson…

(to the tune of I’m going to Graceland…)

That reminds me, I haven’t done a song in awhile. Hmmm…why don’t you guys make a few requests so I have something to think on when I get back? Actually, my reading has been a bit slow lately, so if there’s anything else you’d like me to blabber on about in a post (Trish, I promise I will write a post on the photography workshop…someday), I’d welcome any ideas. And yes, you’ll be hearing all about Tucson at some point.

Because I’m off to Tucson today (woo-hoo!), to hang with OJ and Alyce at the Tucson Festival of Books. Don’t hate, people. We’ll be wishing you were there, too.

I told Alyce that my brain is fried, so I’ll probably be especially fizzy this weekend. Either that, or I’ll be totally flat. But OJ has noted that Starbucks is having their treat receipt promotion (or whatever it’s called this go around), so I might just make it through the weekend fueled by caffeine. Could be entertaining…especially since I’m not on caffeine right now, so just think what I’d be like if there was caffeine in my system. I know…scary.

With the exception of my People’s Readalong post for Monday, I’m all out of prescheduled posts, so it’s gonna be mighty quiet around here for the next week. I get home Monday night (unless I get eaten by one of those freaky cacti they’ve got in Tucson) and go straight back to the 4-10s (ten hour work days) on Tuesday, so there won’t be much time for blogging ’til next weekend. And yes, I heard that sigh of relief. After this post, I’m sure you’re all glad that there will be silence.

Have I ever mentioned I love maps? When I was a kid, I used to tack up the National Geographic maps on the walls of my bedroom (what a dork). So I am seriously lusting after this puppy. Isn’t that the coolest thing ever? (Umm, yeah…short attention span. I might be doing a little internet surfing in between paragraphs.)

I’m trying not to take along a bunch of books on this trip because 1) I’ll only be gone for four days and 2) hello, I’m going to a Book Festival…I know I’ll be buying some books there. But I have Cloud Atlas in my bag (I’m bound and determined to put a serious dent in that book this weekend), as well as The Wave (because I’ve been meaning to read it for the past year and also because the author will be at the TFOB). And I just downloaded The Sense of an Ending to my iPad because 1) everyone is reading it and I’m easily influenced  like that and 2) it’s short, so if Cloud Atlas is overwhelming it’ll be a good diversion. Three books isn’t that bad. Right??

Now that I’ve exhausted myself and probably you all with my non-caffeine fueled ramblings, I’m off to finish packing and hit the road (or would that be hit the air?).

Hope you all have a wonderful weekend!

The first time I tried to read Cloud Atlas I got to page 16 and gave up. How do I, with a notoriously bad memory, know this? Because I’m reading Cloud Atlas again and when I got to page 16 I found this:

That’s a photo of Amiens, France, taken sometime during the summer of 1990, when I was backpacking through Europe with my college roommate. Evidently I was looking through old photos a few years back and decided this one would make a good bookmark (in other words, I didn’t want to toss the photo back in the box, but couldn’t figure out what else to do with it).

It’s actually getting kind of crowded in Cloud Atlas, because I’m also using as a bookmark this awesome postcard (although it’s slightly less awesome than the one she sent me of James without a shirt…that one is currently living in A People’s History of the US, which serves to make me smirk every time I open the book) sent to me by Care (who is the reason why I’m reading Cloud Atlas, so it’s only fitting that her postcard hang out in the book as I read it):

And wow, was that a doozy of a run-on sentence.

Every time I open Cloud Atlas I also find an appointment reminder for my next doctor’s appointment, stuck there to remind me to actual put the appointment on my calendar, as well as a letter that I want to reply to, and a regular bookmark that was in the last book I read that needed a new home.

Does anyone else put random things that need to be done inside of their current read? I do when I’m too busy to actually sit down and make a to-do list, because it’s the one place where I know I’ll be looking, which will then remind me to do things I need to do.

Of course, if I stop reading this book again, me and my to-do’s are totally screwed.

Saturday
Ian McEwan
2005
289 pages

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A long time ago (that’s softdrink-speak for I know I read it but damned if I can remember when) I read Atonement. And I didn’t like it (not that I could tell you why).

So it’s a giant mystery as to why (as well as when and how) I even bought this book. But it’s been sitting on the shelf for a really long time (again, softdrink-speak for  damned if I can remember when), so in a desperate attempt to make a final decision as to whether or not I like Ian McEwan, at the beginning of the year I added Saturday to the Shelf of Doom.

And I ended up reading most of Saturday on a Saturday. Mostly because it’s not that long and I just wanted to be done with it.

I can see why people like him. Yet I can honestly say I don’t. For a fairly short book, there are times when McEwan needed to just move on. Honestly, I don’t want to know that much about neurosurgery (if I did I’d be reading a non-fiction book), or a squash game, or even that our main character likes to pee sitting down.

Saturday is a day in the life of book. A day in the life of Henry Perowne, devoted husband and father, neurosurgeon, squash player, and the aforementioned guy who likes to pee sitting down. On this particular Saturday, Henry runs a few errands, gets in a car crash, visits his mum, watches his son play some blues guitar, fixes dinner for his family, and is briefly (SPOILER AHEAD) held hostage in his own home.

Henry’s had a busy day, and McEwan threw in a bunch of heavy shit. There’s the impact of 9/11 and terrorism on how a person views the world and events that would previously have been innocuous. There’s the whole getting older and watching your children grow up thing. There’s professional jealousy (not Henry) and the idea of revenge and even some politics thrown into the mix.

And there were even times when I thought it was beautifully written. But it still left me cold. There was just nothing about Henry that I found interesting.

Am I alone here? What do you think of McEwan’s style?

In Travels With Charley (which was a darn good book), Steinbeck mentions the WPA Guides, a series of guidebooks about the United States written during the Depression. Since he was pretty enamored of them, I was curious as to what they were like, especially since I love me some travel. I was able to track down the WPA Guide to California through my library. Behold:

I love the cover, although she’s seriously under-dressed for San Francisco (that’s the Golden Gate Bridge in the background).

Since this puppy is 683 pages long, there was no way I was about to read it just for kicks (I’ve got other books hounding me to be read). I mean, look at the itty-bitty print! It’s so bitty you can’t even see it (yeah, I know, that’s the photographer’s fault).

But I was curious as to what it had to say about my neck of the woods. Lucky for me, there’s an index. And Morro Bay (actually, it’s just called Morro, which is ummm, how do I say this? Oh yeah…WRONG) has a whopping one paragraph entry:

“On a bluff commanding land-locked Morro Bay are the summer cottages of Morro, 122.4 m (72 alt., 800 pop.) named for immense Morro Rock, sometimes called the ‘Gibraltar of the Pacific,’ which rises 576 feet above a shallow lagoon impounded by sand dunes. From the rock, a great pile of trachyte (volcanic rock) covering 40 acres, thousands of tons of building material have been blasted.” p. 346

Seriously?? We’re on the freakin’ Pacific Ocean, and all you can talk about is the building material blasted from the rock? Also, did I mention we’re on the Pacific Ocean? So how can we be land-locked?? And sure, things change…Morro Rock hasn’t always been connected to the mainline. But I’m pretty damn sure the ocean has always been there and that it’s impossible for a bay to be land-locked.

As Violet would say, “Argh. Just argh.”

So after I recovered from my disappointment over the Morro Bay info, I skimmed through the rest of the book and read what it had to say about some of the other towns in San Luis Obispo County, as well as Salinas (in honor of Steinbeck) and a few other places. It would be an entertaining book to have on a road trip, just to see what writers from the late 1930s had to say about places…even if I’m wondering if they actually visited all the places that were written about.

Dear February,

Since I wrote a letter to January, it seems only fair that I write you as well. Even if you did go by so fast that I can barely remember you! I know you have fewer days than the other guys, but it was Leap Year, so it wasn’t that short of a month. Still, if you could put a word in to March to slow things down a bit I’d appreciate it.

And even if you were a bit crazy, you were still a stellar month. Here’s why:

• That trip to Sacramento (via Salinas to see the National Steinbeck Center) to take a photography workshop that I still need to write a post about.
• That trip to Santa Ana to see the Terracotta Warriors (and the family).
• That trip to Fresno that wasn’t all that stellar (because it was 1) work and 2) Fresno), but that let me finish listening to Wild Thing, which was (stellar).
• The seven books I managed to read (more like 5 read and 2 listened to). I felt like I wasn’t reading at all during the month, so I’ll take that 7 and be happy. And there were some especially good ones among those 7 (Come In and Cover Me, Rez Life). Plus, I read an Austen! And somehow (miraculously) I’m still on track with the chapter a week that I’m reading for A People’s History of the United States. It hasn’t been easy, but I have yet to flake.
• I planned a trip to Tucson for the Tucson Festival of Books (thanks OJ!). I fly out on Friday…can’t wait!

• The Shelf of Doom is being decimated. Yes, decimated. I’ve read 5 of the 14 books on the shelf, and I’ve started Cloud Atlas (and holy crap, is that going to be a struggle). I’ve also read two of my 7 books for A Classic’s Challenge. With ten months still to go, I think I might be able to do this.
• I said adios to the old job. It took an entire month, but I finally made it to a point where old boss is no longer my boss at all and can no longer give me anything to do. Which means I should be less frantic at work trying to finish up one job while learning a new one. That was kind of mentally exhausting. As of March 1st, I am officially part of the Information Reporting Team. Really, it’s way better than it sounds! Plus, new boss welcomed me with tulips, and tulips make me smile:

And so what if I slipped a bit on that vow to quit Starbucks. I blame it entirely on the cute Valentine’s Day cups: