Hardwared

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by the Night Writer

I am not a particularly handy man when it comes to fixing things. In fact, I’ve often said of myself that I can do in half-a-day what it takes two men working all-day to undo. Nevertheless, I love going into old-timey hardware stores. There’s something about the faded floors, jumbled shelves and the scent of grease, oil, wood, copper and sweat that is hard-wired (or hard-wared) into my soul and stirs my imagination. The sight of rows of tools and implements made to fit the hand just make me feel useful and like I want to start some kind of project, even though I may only be able to tell you the true function of a mere fraction of these tools. For some reason I never feel this way when I go to Lowe’s or Home Depot, even though most of my “home improvement” shopping is done at these big box stores. Perhaps it’s because somewhere along the line “home improvement centers” replaced “hardware stores”.

I thought about this yesterday after reading that my local hardware store, Langula’s, is closing after 96 years and three-generations of being in business. I first wandered into Langula’s some 10 years or so ago because I needed my mower blades sharpened and they were the only place around that still did that on site, while you waited. The owner of the shop, Gary, usually did the sharpening himself, ensconced in his grungy workshop at the back of the store where you had to step down into an area  delineated by the original foundations of his grandparent’s store. Gary’s a phlegmatic guy, not much of a talker, but he can find parts and tell you how to use them. Sometimes I’d watch as he’d run the blades along the grinder in a shower of yellow sparks but usually I’d wander around the main part of the store, hefting this tool or running my hands over that piece of equipment. Somehow it all reminded me of when I was a boy and my grandfather would take me around with him when he’d go to visit his many friends who were fuel oil jobbers and mechanics. I remember their twill work pants, Eisenhower jackets and their billed caps with the ear-flaps on the side … and always the smell of petroleum. Okay, it wasn’t frankincense, but these men with their look and jargon seemed to me to be part of some esoteric priesthood of arcane knowledge.

If not a priesthood, it was certainly at least a club. My grandfather would tell me stories of a hardware store in his home town that was run by a couple of friends, one of whom had some talent as an artist. The men in town would congregate at the hardware store and drink coffee from mugs hand-painted for each man by the owner, usually in a risque manner. The men always left their cups in the back of the store, never to be seen by the casual public and definitely never by the wives or women-folk.

Another old hardware store that did things its own way was on Payne Avenue when I lived on the east side of St. Paul. It looked as if it could have been the model for a Norman Rockwell calendar. Hell, I think it probably still had a Norman Rockwell calendar on the wall from 1957. The aisles were narrow and things stacked on the upper shelves seemed to lean over my head like tree branches in an arbor, while the hardwood floor running down each aisle was worn into a smooth trench by generations of work-boots shuffling along, making it all feel as if I was in a tunnel. The haphazard clutter of odds and ends led me to suggest to the clerk helping me that it must be fun to do the annual inventory. “Never happens,” he replied. “When the old man dies, they’re just going to burn the place down and start over.”

Langula’s doesn’t have quite as much “character” as that place, and Gary never offered me a customized coffee mug, but the store is still a true, funky, living artifact of another time, complete with a shop cat that lounges about the place and often naps on the counter next to the cash register. Whenever I’d take a deep breath it seemed as if I could still smell the ghosts in their work-clothes. My grandfather and his friends all passed on long ago and the hardware stores they would have felt at home in are dying out, too. After nearly 100 years in the same location, this coming weekend will likely be the last for Langula’s.

I plan to drop in, browse the aisles, breathe deeply. I’m sure they’ve got something there I need.

Christmas Movie Review!

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by Mall Diva

In yesterday’s post a movie was briefly mentioned, in reference to Casii having a song on the soundtrack. This movie is called A Christmas Snow; it was written by Candace Lee and Tracy Trost (who also directed it). More about Tracy and Trost Moving Pictures in a later post.

Christmas SnowA Christmas Snow is the story of a woman who… well…. Ok. I’m not going to beat around the bush. This is an inspirational story of loss and heartbreak, and of love and forgiveness. It’s heart-wearming, touching, and all those adjectives they use to advertise the “feel-good-family-film-of-the-year”. Is it sappy? A bit. Did it make me cry? Like a baby.

The main character is a woman who owns a restaurant. The critics call her the “gourmet grinch”. She is rather a scrooge. She had a tough childhood, and she’s pretty bitter as a result of unforgiveness on her part. All of these painful secrets she has are promptly brought out and aired one Christmas, though, when she finds herself snowed in with her boyfriend’s 10 year-old daughter and a perfect stranger- an older gentleman who came to her rescue during a midnight altercation in a parking lot. What is there to do for two days with a couple strangers and without power  besides talk? So three generations tell their stories, and find they’re not so different.

I really enjoyed A Christmas Snow, and I encourage you to watch it. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, it’ll move you, Bob.

UPDATE

The DVD of the movie is available at WalMart (when it isn’t sold out) but you can also watch it on TV. Several cable channels will be broadcasting the movie later this week; go here to see the schedule.

For Your Christmas List: Your Chance to “Let Love In”

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by the Night Writer

About 16 years ago this month two little girls stood on stage with their Sunday-school classmates and sang “A Whale in the Manger” and other Christmas carols for an adoring public. One of those little girls was my daughter, the Mall Diva, and the other was her best friend, Casii (pronounced “Casey”) Stephan. The two of them would eventually partner as singers and songwriters and do a handful of public performances before little things like the Diva’s married life got in the way. Casii continued to hone her skills as a singer, a lyricist and composer however and even contributed a song to the soundtrack of the recently released movie “A Christmas Snow” (more about this movie in a later post). She also attracted the attention of a local music producer who helped her create a four-song EP that was released last week.

casii-stephan-cd-let-love-in-storeThe EP, Let Love In, features a mix of up-tempo pop songs and soulful ballads that showcase Casii’s luminous talents in the hopes of garnering wider attention in the industry. You don’t have to wait for Casii to be “discovered”, however, in order to discover her yourself. As of today all four songs from the EP — as well as her song “My Sweetest Dream” from the movie soundtrack — are available on both iTunes and Amazon to sample and to download, or you can contact her through her website to get the EP itself on CD.

Casii has always blown us away, even in her younger days when her big, big voice in a little body hardly required a microphone to fill the room when she sang. Maturity has brought depth and control to her voice as she sings with passion and nuance while also showing that she’s a top-notch songwriter and musician. It has been so much fun to watch her bloom over the years and I’m looking forward to her further development and success in the future. Be sure to take advantage of this early opportunity to witness the emergence of an exciting new talent!

For your Christmas list: a book about life, death, kittens and blue angels

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by the Night Writer

It turns out that I have a number of very talented friends who have, in the last few months, demonstrated their skills and creativity by publishing books, making award-winning movies and releasing EPs. With Christmas approaching I thought that over the next several days  I’d feature these efforts here with the thought they might make it onto your shopping list.

First up is a book written by best bud from high school. He later went on to become a marine and a motorcycle cop. So, what kind of two-fisted book do you think he wrote?  Would you believe…

kittensplay Turns out my friend Nick and his late wife were very involved with cat rescue organizations for the last several years and he has collected his thoughts, experiences and even some visions into a book that is both an moving account of their experiences and a touching tribute to his wife while offering an interesting vision of what happens to our pets after they die. The book, In Heaven Kittens Play: the Blue Angel and Her Garden of Pets is available from Amazon (including a Kindle version)  and from Nick’s own website.

It’s a very nice read for anyone who’s lost a loved one or a beloved pet, and especially for those who are cat lovers (I’m looking at you, Gino). Nick’s been criss-crossing the country on book tours, signing books and doing radio and TV interviews but we both found ourselves back in our old hometown last summer where we were also able to catch up with our former Creative Writing instructor:

Miz Reed, me and Nick

Miz Reed, me and Nick

If you’re an animal lover, or know one, this book makes a great stocking-stuffer for the holidays.

The Revolution has begun

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by the Night Writer

“When just one man says, ‘No, I won’t,’ Rome began to fall.”

— Spartacus

I think just about everyone is aware by now that Homeland Security and the T&A — I mean, TSA — has decided that it can look at you naked or aggressively grope you as a prerequisite of flying from one place to another in the land of the free. With the new, so-called “Naked Scanners” TSA agents tell you to “assume the position” with your hands over your head as if you are already guilty of something. Then they irradiate your body from the front and back so they can see under your clothes to determine if you’re packing weapons, explosives or just a little too much of Grandma’s fruitcake.

Sure, you can “opt out” of sharing X-ray-ted imagesof yourself but if you do then  the snap of a rubber glove signals that you are now subject to what Big Sister Janet Napolitano calls an “enhanced pat-down”, or what we used to call a “feeling up”.  TSA agents used to do these with the backs of their hands but now they get to palm your inner thighs, crotch, butt-crack and breasts because that will really show the terrorists.  Seriously, just think about it: we’ve had to go along with taking off our shoes, our belts, chucking our shampoo and deodorant, and now we have to submit to being molested just to fly. No wonder that all the would-be airline suicide bombers since 9/11 have been stopped not by the TSA but by pissed-off passengers. As Napolitano says, “the system works.”

The Christmas Day Knicker-bomber incident (where the nut-job’s father tried to alert the U.S. government of his son’s radical affiliations but was ignored) proved that Homeland Security can’t handle information, so they’ve decided to “handle” everything else, and they’d sure appreciate your cooperation. As Napolitano wrote in an open letter to the people who pay her salary,  “We ask the American people to play an important part of our layered defense. We ask for cooperation, patience and a commitment to vigilance in the face of a determined enemy. We also ask that you turn your head and cough.” (Ok, I added a few words at the end.)

Signs are, however, that after years of progressively greater indignities the public is starting to push back. The airline pilots and flight attendants unions are protesting and now passengers are saying “you touch my junk and I’ll have you arrested.” That’s what ticketed passenger John Tyner said in San Diego the other day after “opting-out” of the Nude Scanner and being faced with a government “grip and grin”. He demurred, and also happened to record his experience with his cell-phone:

A supervisor is heard re-explaining the groin check process to Tyner then adding “If you’re not comfortable with that we can escort you back out and you don’t have to fly today.”

Tyner responded “OK, I don’t understand how a sexual assault can be made a condition of my flying.”

“This is not considered a sexual assault,” replied the supervisor, calmly.

“It would be if you were not the government,” said Tyner.

“By buying your ticket you gave up a lot of rights,” countered the TSA supervisor.

“I think the government took them away after 9/11,’ said Tyner.

“OK,” came the reply.

Mr. Tyner didn’t get to make his flight to South Dakota but he was able to upload the 30-minute audio of his encounter to YouTube.

httpv://johnnyedge.blogspot.com/2010/11/these-events-took-place-roughly-between.html

Mr. Tyner’s decision to opt-out of the scanner treatment was based on concerns about radiation exposure. Big Sister assures us, however, that these concerns are unfounded. After all, the government has had  hours to test these machines and are confident that there are no short-term or long-term effects. Hey, if you can’t trust your government, who can you trust? Big Sister even says that Johns Hopkins has signed off on the safety of these scanners. Apparently, not everyone at John Hopkins got that memo, as described in this article, Naked Scanners At US Airports May be Dangerous: Scientists:

“They say the risk is minimal, but statistically someone is going to get skin cancer from these X-rays,” Dr Michael Love, who runs an X-ray lab at the department of biophysics and biophysical chemistry at Johns Hopkins University school of medicine, told AFP.

“No exposure to X-ray is considered beneficial. We know X-rays are hazardous but we have a situation at the airports where people are so eager to fly that they will risk their lives in this manner,” he said.

…

A group of scientists at the University of California, San Francisco (UCSF) raised concerns about the “potential serious health risks” from the scanners in a letter sent to the White House Office of Science and Technology in April.

Biochemist John Sedat and his colleagues said in the letter that most of the energy from the scanners is delivered to the skin and underlying tissue.

“While the dose would be safe if it were distributed throughout the volume of the entire body, the dose to the skin may be dangerously high,” they wrote.

The scientists say the X-rays could pose a risk to everyone from travelers over the age of 65 to pregnant women and their unborn babies, to HIV-positive travelers, cancer patients and men.

“Men’s sexual organs are exposed to the X-rays. The skin is very thin there,” Love explained.

The Office of Science and Technology responded this week to the scientists’ letter, saying the scanners have been “tested extensively” by US government agencies and were found to meet safety standards.

But Sedat told AFP Friday: “We still don’t know the beam intensity or other details of their classified system.”

The high-handed actions of Homeland Security and the TSA have even led to calls by some for a National Opt-Out Day on Wednesday, November 24 where travelers are asked to “opt-out” of the scanner treatment and accept a public groping in order to demonstrate opposition to these unreasonable searches. As the Opt-Out Day website says:

It’s the day ordinary citizens stand up for their rights, stand up for liberty, and protest the federal government’s desire to virtually strip us naked or submit to an “enhanced pat down” that touches people’s breasts and genitals in an aggressive manner.  You should never have to explain to your children, “Remember that no stranger can touch or see your private area, unless it’s a government employee, then it’s OK.”

The goal of National Opt Out Day is to send a message to our lawmakers that we demand change.  We have a right to privacy and buying a plane ticket should not mean that we’re guilty until proven innocent.

If you can’t avoid flying on the 24th or  some other time, you might find this video helpful when someone comes up to you and says “I’m from the government and I’m here to grope you.”

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WXDLQPfqc04&feature=share

Spend ’em if you’ve got ’em

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by the Night Writer

The FDA will soon be mandating graphic anti-smoking warnings on packages of cigarettes, the result of a law passed last year giving the Feds authority to regulate marketing and labeling of tobacco products.
Cigarette graphic

Apparently the current anti-smoking efforts and warnings have only been able to reduce the number of smokers in the U.S. population to around 20%, a level that has held steady for the past several years. The thinking now is that gruesome, graphic images taking up half of the packaging on a pack of death sticks will gross the die-hards out. I already don’t have a desire to smoke so I don’t know how effective this might be, but apparently those pushing this measure think this will help until they’re able to pass a law requiring smokers to wear distinctive patches sewn on their clothes in order to make it that much easier to shun them.

If graphic photos are effective, though, then I’m excited about future possibilities. What if we were to put gruesome images on the front of everything dangerous? What if, for example, we were to require the cover page of every trillion-dollar deficit budget submitted to Congress to have a picture of, say, gutted Detroit or the Greek riots?

Abandoned Detroit

Greek riots

WARNING. UNCHECKED SPENDING WILL KILL YOUR ECONOMY.

They may not take time to read the bill itself, but they’d at least see the cover. Do you think it might work?