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whew !!!

IN THIS ISSUE

• Dick Monaghan makes his yearly pilgrimage to a Shakespearean festival
• Dixie Augustein is off again on her travels
• Carolyn Harris contemplates writing a book about the logging camp
• My Aunt Katie celebrates her 102nd birthday
• Gerrit de Leeuw contributes this one about a senior bus tour
• Elana forwards a story of a contrite thief
• Bruce Galway sends a story about a very clever lawyer
• Burke Dykes and Marilyn Magid forward blonde jokes
• Miriam Ockenden and Jack Peaker suggest interesting websites
• Carolyn Harris forwards a site showing old logging pictures

Dick Monaghan reports on this year´s plays at

ASHLAND, OREGON

We saw six plays in three days, which will make a critic out of your backside.

Three were Shakespeare: "Two Gentlemen of Verona," "King John," and "Winter´s Tale." Not precisely an A-material lineup: "King John" is very rarely done, "Two Gentlemen" is rarely done, and "Winter´s Tale" requires considerable "willing suspension of disbelief" (Coleridge). It´s good to see these lesser efforts (at least in the case of the first two).

"King John" seems to me a poor play, principally because Shakespeare couldn´t make up his mind whose play it is. Ah, you say, look at the title - but John is the least interesting of the major characters. He´s weak, vacillating, blustering, sentimental and cruel. The best scene, emotionaly, is the one between Arthur and Hubert, who has sworn to burn the boy´s eyes out with a hot iron. Arthur talks him out of it, and, properly done, the scene would cause the people in the orchestra seats to storm the stage in outrage. Here, it was merely recited. Of course, if you do heat it up, then you´ve climaxed the play at about mid-point, emotionally.

Harold Bloom thinks Faulconbridge, "the bastard," is the first character Shakespeare wrote that took the playwright out from under the influence of Marlowe. Otherwise, Bloom doesn´t think a lot of the play. It´s a "history" play, meaning it somewhat resembles today´s documentaries. You´re not supposed to look for plot or resolution. (It differs from a documentary, though, in that Shakespeare had no difficulty inventing fictional characters, shifting time, and fiddling with the facts to make a play.) I thought the production was barely up to Ashland´s standards.

"Two Gentlemen" benefitted from mini-ballets inserted throughout - a tennis game (with an imaginary ball), a croquet game, and other amusing folderol. The purists roll their eyes at this kind of thing, but I approve. It´s good to keep the play rolling and the audience amused. This production, for no given reason, had the players costumed as Amish.

The play itself is one of the Bard´s early attempts, and I find it hardly credible, even in comic terms: Proteus sells out his friend Valentine, getting the latter banished, tries to steal Valentine´s girl (Silvia), and dumps his own girl (Julia). When all this duplicity is brought to his attention, he merely says he´s sorry, and Valentine welcomes him back into the fold, even offering to give up his interest in Silvia (if I heard correctly). In the end, of course, they each end up with the proper girl, but I would have thought the logical outcome would have been for Valentine to put out a contract on Proteus. Anyway, the director and cast made it entertaining. One of the better characters is Crab, the dog belonging to the clown/servant Launce. Well acted by what looked a Jack Russell terrier.

"Winter´s Tale" is a better play than the above two, but it has its own problems. The first half is a bang-up examination of jealousy, and the second half is the redemption of the jealous king. The first half seems "real," the second half fantasy. Well directed and acted.

We saw "King John" in the New Theater (3/4 round); "Winter´s Tale" in the indoor Bowmer (proscenium stage), and "Two Gentlemen" in the outdoor Elizabethan Theater.

The three non-Shakespeare plays were "The Importance of Being Earnest," "Cyrano de Bergerac," and "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."

I´m finicky about "Earnest," and I would judge this production to be acceptable, but not great. I couldn´t hear Algernon. I admit my hearing is shot to hell, but I could hear the others. Enjoyed it as a workmanlike job.

"Cyrano" and "Dr. Jekyll" are both vehicles for bravura performances by their eponymous leads, and both did well. "Cyrano" is a well-written excursion to the farthest reaches of sentimentality, but it´s a quality piece. Pretty much a war-horse by now, but I liked the lead.

"Dr. Jekyll," I thought, was by far the best production we saw. This was in the Bowmer. The set was Victorian, gas-lit London at its spookiest and Sherlock Holmesian. Counter-rotating stages made for seamless transitions between Dr. Jekyll´s flat, the London streets, and other locations. I had never seen this play before, and I´m not familiar with the book. The movie versions, of which there have been at least three of note - Spencer Tracy, Lon Chaney and Frederic March - relied on special effects and makeup for the change from Jekyll to Hyde. Here, the actor simply (?) changed personalities.

In both "Cyrano" and "Dr. Jekyll," the tempation to "eat the scenery" must be avoided at all costs, while maintaining the required energy. Both actors were pros and managed to avoid the pitfall, although it was a close thing with Dr. Jekyll writhing about on the floor. The only difference I can see between Dr. Jekyll´s potion and gin is that it is harder to sober up after drinking gin. Otherwise, the two mind-altering substances produce exactly the same effect.

In sum, an enjoyable trip, although we´re looking forward to the better Shakespeare plays next season - we hope. I think the thing to remember is that we don´t revere Shakespeare for his play construction, we stand in awe of his poetry and psychology. Harold Bloom says he invented the human, as we know him in the West, and it´s hard to disagree.

CORRESPONDENCE

Dixie Augusteijn writes a long and interesting letter:

I have been promising to write for such a long time and produced no results. But I have been busy. We are making a trip to the Yukon and Alaska leaving next week and I wanted to know how to use my new digital camera before leaving - so that does take time. It is going to be a new experience - a change from beaches and palm trees. I am going with my daughter and her husband; we fly to Whitehorse where we get a van and then cross Alaska in one direction, coming back in the other. There should be some spectacular scenery and I only hope I can do justice to it. It was a toss-up between Alaska and Newfoundland, where I have also not been, but Alaska won.

I hope I can put it together for some sort of presentation when finished and make use of some of the computer courses I have been taking.

I have also been busy going through old photos - and what a sneezing job that is! - copying into the computer the ones I want to keep and getting rid of the others. It is a pleasant job and brings back so many memories of friends who are no longer living or living at a great distance.

I have been reasonably well through the summer, escaping the virus which was going around - there always seems to be some sort of virus. I had thought to have a party on my birthday but going over the list I found so many of the first cousins are either no longer living, or not well enough to make a trip, that I gave up. And the girls [granddaughters] are away too.

And talking of the girls - Laura was doing some work in Alberta and Saskatchewan checking on birds which nest in hollow trees - something to do with clear cutting - and had an experience with a bear. She was sitting doing her notes and looking up saw a bear making his way towards her. She waited a bit but he kept on coming, so she decided to get in the truck, only to find the door locked. She edged her way around the back, and something at the front of the truck took the bear´s attention, letting her get around to the driver´s side, where luckily the door was unlocked. She was just in when the bear came up, stood on his hind legs and put his face up against the window. She was glad she was behind glass but radioed the other girl to be careful. Later she heard they had been putting out bait to estimate the number of bears in the area and apparently they may have been near the bait. Anyway, she had an experience to tell her grandchildren and is now back hiking the west coast of Vancouver island before school starts again.

Sarah, off in Uganda, has been very busy. On her own, she raised considerable money to help kids who have been victims - and escaped - from the LRA and are traumatized by the experience. She also has helped with AID orphans. She comes back at Christmas and then I hope she will be here for a time. She says she has been kept so busy there she has had little time to do her notes.

Interesting girls - but I am biased.

It is my bedtime but shall go to bed with a clearer conscience now that I have at least written something.

~~~~~

LIVING IN AN EARLY CALIFORNIAN LOGGING CAMP

I asked Carolyn Harris if she is going to write a book about her experiences in the logging camp, including those recently published in the Tale Spinner. This is her reply:

I wrote those stories for you when I was RVing in St Anthony Dunes in Idaho. They weren´t too polished, but I didn´t think you´d mind.

I met the Editor of UC Press at a writing conference in Portland. We talked about the logging camps of Siskiyou County and he said he´d be interested in a regional book. I have to take in enough area to make it marketable. Always money with publishers, even University Presses.

I´ve been talking to people who lived in the three camps east of McCloud: Hambone, White Horse and Pondosa. Really finding some interesting information. Still not sure if I can do it, but I´m collecting information. Some of these people are getting older. If I wait much longer, the information might be gone.

I don´t remember if I told you, but I e-mailed a man named Ben Hiatt. He lived in Pondosa, Oregon. I wasn´t even aware there was a Pondosa, Oregon. I found his poetry reviewed on thundersandwich.com. He writes beautiful, often sad, poetry. There were two poems on Thunder Sandwich reviewed about life as a boy in that logging camp. His web is www.benhiatt.com

MY AUNT KATIE

My mother´s only sister, Kathleen, celebrated her 102nd birthday on August 24. A sturdy farm woman who worked hard all her life, my Aunt Katie is finding her enforced idleness a strain, and it is hard for her to fill in her time, having lost both sight and hearing. She has lived in a retirement home in northern Saskatchewan for many years, and until recently she was still doing her own housework in her little apartment.

The youngest of three children, Katie moved with her family from Kemble, Ontario, to Saskatchewan in 1911. Her father and Grandma´s stepson homesteaded on two sections of land. The men built a log house on each place, and in December they moved from Melfort to their homesteads at Pleasantdale. My grandfather worked as a carpenter while proving up his homestead.

Grandfather died in 1914, leaving my grandmother with three young children. Mary, my mother, was only 12, and she went to work as a hired girl at a neighbouring farm, where she earned the only cash money the family had. My Uncle Charlie was 11, and Katie, 10. With good friends and neighbours and lots of hard work, they managed to keep the homestead.

Charlie raised and broke a team of oxen when he was a young boy. Grain had to be hauled from Melfort, 25 miles away, which took two days with the oxen. After a cold night, the water and bread would have to be thawed before breakfast. Nearly every home had a can of Roger´s golden syrup on the table. In winter, the neighbours would get together in someone´s home and play cards and other games, sing, or tell stories. In summer, there were picnics and ball games.

Katie married Charlie Stewart of Pleasantdale, and they farmed in the Chagoness district for 12 years before moving back to Pleasantdale to farm. They had two children, who each had four more children. Katie has a sizeable family of grandchildren and great-grandchildren to help her celebrate her birthdays.

After the death of my grandmother at the age of 94, and of Katie´s husband in 1964, my Uncle Charlie and Katie moved to Caskey Place in Melfort, where she still lives. Charlie died in 1975, and Mother in 1977.

Katie has seen many changes in her long life. From travelling by oxen to space ships, from heating with coal and wood to central heating, from party-line phones to computers, from growing all one´s own food to superstores - it has been a rapidly changing world. She has lived through two world wars and innumerable small ones, a great depression and many smaller ones. She has seen radical changes in the status of women (though farm women have always worked as hard as the men), clothing styles, entertainment, and transportation.

My aunt Katie, 17 years older than I, has been a fixture throughout my life. Though we didn´t see her often, my family having moved to B.C. when I was two, she has written faithfully all these years, first to my mother, and after her death, to us "girls". She can no longer see what she is writing, but she sends us a letter about every four months, telling us about her life and that of her multitudinous family. She is a wonderful example of the sturdy pioneer women who opened up this country.

Much of the information in this article was gleaned from a story Katie contributed to "Memories of the Past - History of Pleasantdale, Silver Park, Chagoness and Kinistino Indian Band #91" published by Pleasantdale and District History Book Committee in 1981.

Gerrit de Leeuw sends us this one:

TOUR BUS

A group of Canadians was traveling by tour bus through Holland.

As they stopped at a cheese farm, a young guide led them through a process of cheese making, explaining that goat´s milk was used.

She showed the group a lovely hillside where many goats were grazing. These, she explained, were the older goats put out to pasture when they no longer produced.

She then asked, "What do you do in Canada with your old goats that aren´t producing?"

A spry old gentleman answered: "They send us on bus tours."

SOMETIMES IT PAYS TO BE A LITTLE DEAF

Morris, an 82-year-old man, went to the doctor to get a physical. A few days later the doctor saw Morris walking down the street with a gorgeous young woman on his arm.

The next time he saw him, the doctor spoke to Morris and said, "You´re really doing great, aren´t you?"

Morris replied, "Just doing what you said, Doc. ´Get a hot mamma and be cheerful.´"

The doctor said, "I didn´t say that. I said, ´You´ve got a heart murmur. Be careful.´"

Elana forwards this story:

CONFESSION

A man with a nagging secret couldn´t keep it any longer. In the confessional, he admitted that for years he had been stealing building supplies from the lumberyard where he worked.

"What did you take?" his priest asked.

"Enough to build my own house and enough for my son´s house. And houses for our two daughters and our cottage at the lake."

"This is very serious," the priest said. "I shall have to think of a far-reaching penance. Have you ever done a retreat?"

"No, Father, I haven´t," the man replied. "but if you can get the plans, I can get the lumber."

Bruce Galway forwards another lawyer joke:

LEGAL EXPERT

A lawyer defending a man accused of burglary tried this creative defense: "My client merely inserted his arm into the window and removed a few trifling articles. His arm is not himself, and I fail to see how you can punish the whole individual for an offence committed by his limb."

"Well put," the judge replied. "Using your logic, I sentence the defendant´s arm to one year´s imprisonment. He can accompany it or not, as he chooses."

The defendant smiled. With his lawyer´s assistance he detached his artificial limb, laid it on the bench, and walked out.

Burke Dykes story shows why you should never

UNDERESTIMATE A BLONDE

Last year I replaced all the windows in my house with those expensive double-pane energy-efficient kind.

Yesterday, I got a call from the contractor who installed them. He was complaining that the windows had been installed a whole year ago and I hadn´t paid for them yet.

Hellloooo? Now just because I´m blonde doesn´t mean that I am automatically stupid. So I told him just exactly what his fast-talking sales guy had told ME last year - namely, that in just ONE YEAR these windows would pay for themselves!

Helllooooo"? (I told him). "It´s been a year!"

There was only silence at the other end of the line, so I finally just hung up. He hasn´t called back, probably too embarrassed about forgetting the guarantee they made me. Bet he won´t underestimate a blonde anymore.

Marilyn Magid forwards yet another blonde joke:

RAPID RESPONSE TEAM

Returning home from work, a blonde was shocked to find her house ransacked and burglarized. She telephoned the police at once and reported the crime.

The police dispatcher broadcast the call on the radio, and a K-9 unit, patrolling nearby, was the first to respond. As the K-9 officer approached the house with his dog on a leash, the blonde ran out on the porch, shuddered at the sight of the cop and his dog, then sat down on the steps.

Putting her face in her hands, she moaned, "I come home to find all my possessions stolen. I call the police for help, and what do they do?

"They send me a BLIND policeman."

THIS WEEK´S RECOMMENDED WEBSITES

Miriam Ockenden forwards a site that tells of another man´s trip to Oshkosh in a small plane:

http://silvairehair2.home.comcast.net/072806/

~~~~~

Jack Peaker suggests

Kids: http://kidscraftweekly.com/current_issue.html

Time: http://www.timeanddate.com/worldclock/

Tangram game: http://www.gieson.com/Library/projects/games/matter/

History: http://www.yogawithamey.com/worldleaders/

~~~~~

Carolyn Harris sends this website for pictures of her logging company:

http://www.trainweb.org/mccloudrails/LumberCompany.html

~~~~~

If you have ever wondered what a liger is, look at this interesting site:

http://www.greenapple.com/~jorp/amzanim/crossesa.htm

The modern conservative is engaged in one of man´s oldest exercises in moral philosophy, that is the search for a superior moral justification for selfishness.