A look at a book...

The Art of Racing in the Rain, Garth Stein
I recently finished this 2008 novel, and it is one of those books that keeps resonating in my brain. Most folks would find it simple-an easy read. Large type, barely 300 pages, it's the kind of book the fast readers I envy would finish in one or two sittings (it took me a week, though).
The book is written in the first person, and the “voice” is Enzo, a dog. He is quick to explain that he is more than a dog in his understanding of the world and the people around him, and he longs to speak with them and reveal the depth of his insight, but, alas, he has a long floppy tongue that makes word formation impossible, and his lack of opposing thumbs limits his motor skills. He points out that if someone would provide him with a “Steven Hawking machine”, and teach him the alphabet, he could marvel people with his intellect.
Enzo's owner and best friend is Denny, who is an amatuer race car driver flirting with the edge of professional greatness. He and Enzo spend many hours studying videos of Denny's races, and Denny's dissection of his strategy on the racetrack, and the mantras he uses to explain his driving skill become metaphors for his handling of his dramas off the track. And the dramas are significant-his wife battles life threatening illness, he fights to beat a very serious, but false, criminal accusation, and he faces losing custody of his little girl. Throughout the book, we are presented with a racing scenario and Denny's counter-intuitive thinking about how to best to handle it, then a real life crisis or battle where that same racing philosophy plays out as a life philosophy. When Denny talks about racing, he says things like '' always be in the corner your in, not the one you just came out of'', or ''you manifest what is before you'', or '' races are never won in the first turn, but they are often lost there.''
The book reminded me, as I read it, of the 1974 classic Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, but is far more accessible (simpler !). They both follow a pattern of presenting a viewpoint, a philosophy, via a metaphor or parable, followed by some seemingly unrelated narrative where that way of thinking plays out. ''Zen'' became, for me, increasingly tedious, deep, and difficult, but this book
never traded away compelling story and attractive characters for depth. The philosophy on display here could correctly be accused of having some root in Eastern mystic stuff, and I'm not advocating adapting Enzoism as a guiding doctrine of life, but there is a lot in Enzo and Denny's approach to life that is attractive. In fact, when I reached the last page I wished for more time with Enzo and Denny-the very definition, says Lori, of a good novel.

Hannah's Gold

The 2010 Winter Olympics has been a smorgasbord of stunning performances, razor thin margins of victory, and unexpected upsets with the spice of controversy, rivalries, and at least one tragedy thrown in. And, as with every Olympics, an interesting assortment of back stories, as told by Bob Costas, has helped us choose individual personalities to root for-or against. Most of these back stories highlight, in some way, the athlete's unwavering, laser-like focus on becoming among the best in the world at their particular discipline. Apolo Ohno's four-a-day two hour workouts; bronze medal winning speed skater J.R. Celski's return from a potentially career ending leg gash in 2009 (with the help of Dr. Eric Heiden); both Hannah Kearney and Bode Miller's redemptive performances in Vancouver after disappointing strike outs in Turin in '06, and many, many more stories of amazing effort, commitment, and resilience.
My favorite of all the back stories is that of snowboarder Hannah Teter and her extensive charity efforts. Hannah is from Belmont, Vermont, the heart of Vermont's ski, snowboard, and maple syrup country. She created a foundation, Hannah's Gold, that sells “Grade A Medium Amber, Pure Vermont Maple Syrup” with the motto “Sweeten the World One Bottle at a Time”. Through a partnership with World Vision, she has “adopted” the town of Kirindon, Kenya. Hannah's Gold has raised over $178,000 for Kirindon. The focus, initially, was on providing clean drinking water and sanitation, but has also addressed AIDS victims, homelessness, farming equipment and methods, recreation for children, and other needs of the town. (visit hannahsgold.com for more info and/or to buy some syrup)
Now she has launched a new effort, “Sweet Cheeks. Panties with a Purpose”. (sweetcheekspanties.com) that donates its proceeds to Doctors Without Borders, her response to the devastation in Haiti. There is a Ben and Jerry's flavor, “Maple Blondie”, that helps fund Hannahs Gold.
In Vancouver, Hannah is sleeping under a quilt donated by Amp Energy Drinks, that is illustrated with images of Hannah snowboarding, and of Kirindon. Amp gave $20,100 to Hannahs Gold, and after the Olympics Hannah is going to auction the quilt. And Hannah gave ALL her prize money in 2009 to the charity.
There are, most definitely, a whole lot of athletes competing in Vancouver that are deserving of our awe. Not just the headliners, the medalists. Every athlete, even those who finish 18th, have reached a rarefied level most of us mortals can't even imagine. But this young lady, this 23 year old, spectacularly talented, hardworking snowboarder has reset the bar. Not, necessarily, for the medals she's won, but for the Gold she gives away.

The Cat Chow Solution

Ranking way up there on the list of the most alarming news of the modern era, along with wars, jihaadism, climate change, and global economic contraction, has been the uncontrolled proliferation of the carnivorous toad in Australia. Why Nancy Grace or Geraldo aren't on this story is beyond me, but it's at least as riveting as Tiger Woods tales. In case you've somehow missed this saga- Australia, in 1935, imported the poisonous, carnivorous Cane Toad from Hawaii to fight insect pests. Once there, though, the cane toads gobbled up smaller, docile native species and predators that fed on the cane toad died from their poison. The population of cane toads, since, has ballooned to 200 million. There have been numerous failed attempts to reduce their numbers, including gassing, running over them with cars, audio blasts intense enough, theoretically, to be fatal, and an annual Toad Out Day in Queensland, the epicenter of the toad crisis, on which locals are encouraged to hunt and destroy cane toads.
In 2009 anti-toad scientists at the University of Sydney stumbled upon a promising, and apparently effective strategy using-I promise this is not made up- cat food. It seems the cane toads do their multiplying in the ponds and “billabongs” of Queensland. Listen to this stat: one cane toad will produce 30,000 eggs in a single clutch!! Scientists discovered that dollops of cat food placed strategically around the ponds and billabongs attracted carnivorous meat ants . If timed to coordinate with the emergence of the millions of little toads, the ants feast on the all-you-can-eat toad buffet, and kill up to 80% of the hatchlings. Australia's Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, is withholding judgment on the catfoodicide method of toad control, concerned it may cause unnecessary “pain or distress”. Pretty safe to conclude I'd think, though I'm no expert in toad psychology, that ants eating 80% of your babies would, in fact, be distressing. But its unlikely there will be much sympathy for the carnivorous toads among Aussies. And some guy from-again, this is not made up-a group called Frogwatch doubts the kitty chow method's effectiveness. But many are encouraged they may finally have a solution to the toad problem. But I have a concern I have not seen mentioned. I'm concerned that encouraging the prosperity of carnivorous meat eating ants could lead to scary unintended consequences. If the ants successfully diminish the carnivorous toad population, Australia will have armies of hungry, meat eating ants, with a newly developed taste for a cat food appetizer followed by an unlimited buffet of....something. Maybe, then, they could bring in some ant eating Aardvarks from Africa.

the innkeeper

Almost unavoidable, over the last 30 days or so, has been encountering a reading or a summary of the events in and around Bethlehem at the time of Jesus' birth. We're familiar with a lot of the key characters in the narrative, and many of us have miniature displays that include them, probably still out on some table or mantle soon to be packed away for eleven months. Over this now concluding holiday season, one member of the ensemble cast, one not typically part of the miniatures, has been stuck in my mind, and become a meaningful metaphor. That's the innkeeper. There actually is no innkeeper mentioned in the Luke 2 account of Jesus' birth, he exists only by inference. He is more a part of tradition than history. We are told, of course, that “...there was no room for them in the inn”, leading to the familiar manger scenario. Tradition, not the Gospel of Luke, has imagined a conversation with an innkeeper who, despite the “No Vacancy” sign, allowed them to stay with the cattle and donkeys out back in the shed. Maybe none of that ever happened. Maybe the hotels were obviously sold out, labor pains began, and they just took advantage of the first box of hay they found. But it's in the traditional story of a sold-out, but sympathetic innkeeper that I see metaphor. He let them stay. He did not turn them away. But he did not put them in the Presidential suite, or even a nice room with a view. The accommodations he allowed them was some unused space in a dark corner of the property. And in that innkeeper, I find a parallel with, particularly in the busy, chaotic period approaching Christmas, where we allow Jesus to stay. The cliché says Jesus is the “reason for the season”, but the reality is the reason for the season is Santa Claus, decorated trees, gifts, shopping, traveling, visiting, eating, social functions, football games, bonuses, time off school, and maybe a couple days off work. But we will allow a small portion of our holiday time and attention to focus on the birth of the Savior, as long as it's mostly just an hour or two Sunday morning. And Christmas Eve, we will typically take another hour or two to catch our breath and light a candle following the crescendo of chaos at the malls. Despite the “No Vacancy sign” on our December calendar, we will allow a little space, where we can, for “the reason”. But not the Presidential suite.