Paralysis From Fear And A Dancing Animal

By Pat Browning


Rabbi Ilene Schneider got my attention with her Nov. 11th DorothyL post on writer’s block. I think it describes perfectly what some mistakenly call “writer’s block” when they really mean “fear” – fear of failure, even fear of success.


Ilene really is a rabbi and she really has written a mystery – CHANUKAH GUILT, featuring – who else – a rabbi.

Her bio is fascinating. From a Google search:
QUOTE
Rabbi Ilene Schneider, Ed.D. hasn't decided yet what (or who) she wants to be when she grows up. (She lives by the t-shirt logo: "I may grow older, but I'll never grow up.") In her current incarnation, she is Coordinator of Jewish Hospice for Samaritan Hospice in Marlton, NJ, near Philadelphia. (She was one of the first 6 women ordained as a rabbi in the US, back in 1976.) Interested in nature and conservation, she also is active in the New Jersey Audubon Society at the Rancocas Nature Center.


In addition to ordination, she has earned a few degrees over the years, all in different disciplines and none worth much in the market place. (BA in Publication from Simmons; M.Ed. in Psychoeducational Processes from Temple; Ed.D. in Foundations of Ed. from Temple; honorary D.D. from the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College for surviving 25 years in the rabbinate). She also began piano lessons for the first time in her life when she was in her 50's -- a total disaster (especially for the teacher), but fun.


In her spare time (which she finds by never cleaning the house), she's a birder and gardener, although her garden's almost as much of a mess as her house. (She believes in benign neglect: she plants it; if it comes up, great; if it doesn't, she tries something else. She lets nature do the watering, which is why everything in the flower boxes is dead, and refers to the weeds as "wild flowers and decorative grasses." When the weather's nice enough to garden, she's more apt to be birding.


She's been married for over 30 years, and has two teen-aged boys, making her part of the trendy group of "older" parents.
END QUOTE


Ilene speaks for many writers when she describes “paralysis from fear.” I asked her for permission to reprint her DorothyL piece. Permission was graciously granted. Herewith:


QUOTE:
What I have right now isn't writer's block so much as paralysis from fear. I got good reviews for my first novel and I'm worried the second in the series won't measure up. I know I just need to put tuches aufn tisch (Yiddish equivalent of the "Button Chair" -- great phrase, btw), because whenever I do, I'm able to produce quite a bit. But I'm always coming up with excuses as to why I don't have the time (or energy).


As for deadlines, I have very little self-discipline without external time limits, but I always meet deadlines. It took me 10 years to write my doctoral dissertation, but once the university told me it was now or never, I finished it in 4 months, 2 weeks before the deadline I had set myself for scheduling the defense, and 2 months before the university's deadline. Adams Media gave me a target date for Talk Dirty Yiddish, and even though I needed a couple of short extensions, I had that book written within a couple of months.


I did try to set myself goals - done by Malice Domestic, by Bouchercon, by Crime Bake, now by Sleuthfest - but so far haven't met them. Will I be done before February? Well, I did the dissertation and the Yiddish book in that time period, so, if I can convince myself it's an absolute deadline, maybe I'll find the motivation I need. (A contract from a publisher would be a major incentive ... any offers?)


Rabbi Ilene Schneider, Ed.D.
rabbi.author@yahoo.com
www.rabbiavivacohenmysteries.com
www.facebook.com/rabbi.author
Chanukah Guilt, Swimming Kangaroo Books, 2007
Nominated for Deadly Ink David Award for Best Mystery of 2007
One of 2007's Top Ten Reads, www.myshelf.com
Reviewers Choice Book, December, 2007, Reviewers Bookwatch, www.midwestbookreview.com
Talk Dirty Yiddish: Beyond Drek, Adams Media, 2008
"Such a breezy, engaging book, I should be so lucky to write." -- The Forward, February 20, 2009
END QUOTE
***

Along those lines …


While cleaning up My Documents files, I came across a quote from the late Kurt Vonnegut (author of SLAUGHTERHOUSE FIVE). In 2005 he was interviewed on the PBS program NOW.


Among other things, he said that “when we've destroyed the last living thing on earth, it would be poetic justice if the earth sent up a message: ‘It's done. People didn't like it here.’ And then he said, “We are here on earth to fart around. What the computer people don't realize is that we are dancing animals.”


I love the image of dancing animals. Maybe he's right. Maybe we should spend less time at the computer, and more time dancing and farting around. What do you think?

Writing Fears

by Jean Henry Mead

The single most important drawback to a writer’s success is fear. Fear of criticism from one’s peers or condemnation from the general public. Fear of negative reviews or of spending a year or more writing a book that doesn’t sell. Fear of hiring an agent who won’t send your book to the right publishers. The list is endless.

Fear is a natural human response, especially when you step off into unknown territory such as a new genre, new publisher, new editor. Even bestselling authors fear losing their readers. So how does a writer overcome those fears?

By believing in your abilities and talents. Persistence or staying power must be a tool in every writer’s bag. Marcel Proust couldn’t finish his epic Remembrance of Things Past until his mother died because he feared hurting her feelings. How many other books have been set aside or never published because writers feared repercussions?

The writing profession kindles fear and involves taking risks but writers have to come to grips with their fears and channel them into their work such as thriller novelists who produce chilling stories for their readers. Writer Greg Lavoy advises fellow scribblers not to ignore fear. “Whatever is suppressed not only has power over you, but will help create obstacles to continually remind you of what you’re hiding from, where you feel you don’t measure up, and whether you don’t have faith in yourself. Success often has as much to do with finding what is standing in your way as with talent or persistence.”

Just as plugging in a night light for those who fear the dark doesn’t eliminate fear of the dark, only the darkness, not sending out submissions to new publishers only eliminates fear of rejection. It also eliminates the ladder to success.

The poet W.H. Auden said, “Believe in your pain. Take it seriously, know that it has meaning and utility, and that it grows a powerful kind of writing.” Unfortunately, most of us will do everything in our power to avoid fear and rejection, so we don’t actually learn from it.

One Writer's Place

By Beth Terrell

Last week, I told you I was going to be spending this past weekend at a writer's workshop near Cape Cod, Massachusetts. It was really a workshop/retreat at One Writer's Place, founded by bestselling author Jacquelyn Mitchard. You've probably heard of Jackie. Her first adult novel, The Deep End of the Ocean, released in 1996, was the first Oprah selection. It was made into a movie starring Michelle Pfeiffer. Since then, she's written seven other acclaimed novels for adults, as well as a number of YA and children's books. She wrote the first chapters of that first novel at the Ragdale Foundation retreat, and it was that experience that led her to create a retreat of her own. She credits Ragdale with helping her achieve her dream and wanted to do the same for other writers.

One Writer's Place offers workshops, residencies, and manuscript critiques. The workshops, like the one I attended this past weekend, bring three to four writers together to discuss their work with Jackie and with each other. The master's workshop (the one I attended) was for writers who have a completed manuscript. Before the retreat, I sent a copy of my manuscript to each of the two other participants and another to Jackie. I read the other two manuscripts before I left for the retreat. Then, when we got there, we discussed each person's manuscript in depth. Jackie offers encouragement, but also has a gift for diagnosing a story's weaknesses and seeing what needs to be done to improve it. I went home with pages of notes and three copies of my manuscript complete with notes from Jackie and the other two participants. Jackie has said that most authors submit their manuscripts one edit too soon. Thanks to my weekend at One Writer's Place, I know mine is close to ready. According to the website, One Writer's Place offers six workshops a year, some of which are masters' classes and some of which are for writers whose manuscripts are not complete. There is no way to go through a One Writer's Place workshop and not come out of it a better writer.

One Writer's Place is also available for residencies of from one to three weeks. Residencies are free, except for a $150 cleaning fee for a one week stay ($250 for three weeks). Residencies are open to published and begining writers, but three letters of character reference are required. Application deadlines are June 1 for fall residencies and December 1 for spring residencies.

No time for a three-week jaunt to Cape Cod? No budget for the intensive weekend workshop? Jackie also offers critiques for a limited number of partial and full manuscripts. Each critique includes marked pages, written suggestions and observations, and a 40-minute phone consultation.

Thanks to Jackie Mitchard and her wonderful assistant, Pam English, my weekend at One Writer's Place included three ultra-healthy meals a day, a trip to the bay and another to the Brewster tidal flats, and some of the best writing advice I could have asked for.

Close Doesn't Cut It

By Mark W. Danielson

Airline travel can be interesting. At times, I have to ride in the back to start a trip away from my home base. Recently, I met an interesting man I’ll call Ray on such a flight out of Denver. His story reiterates that everyone has at least one story to tell, and this one’s a doozy. It begins with him flying aboard United Express from Denver to Durango. Unfortunately, his plane never arrived.
Before I delve into his story, I should present two sides of the much debated issue on pilot qualifications. Ray’s incident occurred over thirty years ago, but little has changed within the industry since then. The fact remains that the most experienced pilots fly for the major airlines while the lesser experienced pilots fly commuters, hoping to one day fly for the majors. Co-pilot/first officers with minimal experience must still pass the same check rides as those with the major airlines. Having said that, not all pilots are created equal.

Now, back to the story. At the time, United Express was flying a twin-engine propeller airplane called the Convair 580, which was a solid design and carried approximately sixty people. There were approximately forty people aboard Ray’s flight. En route, the plane developed a fuel problem that affected one of the engines. For whatever reason, the co-pilot never looked up the procedure. Instead, she and the captain winged it, but guessed wrong, which resulted in an engine fire. During the process of mishandling their emergency, the crew shut down the good engine. Soon after, the plane crash-landed in a corn field. Remarkably, no one was killed. Even more remarkable was the flight crew deserted their passengers and escaped through the cockpit windows.

Ray and a fellow co-worker were seated in the very back of the plane, so when the plane came to rest, they opened the rear doors to escape. However, since the nose wheel broke off, the tail was too high to evacuate through these exits. When Ray turned around, he was astonished to see all of the passengers still strapped in their seats as though in a trance. Seeing fuel leaking from the aircraft and fearing the plane would soon burst in flames, Ray and his co-worker took it upon themselves to evacuate everyone from the aircraft. Neither Ray nor his co-worker received any recognition for their efforts. Instead, Ray endured years of pain before he received word that he had broken his back in the crash. It took five years for the airline to reimburse Ray’s company for his injuries. Ironically, the airline’s most damning evidence that won Ray’s law suit was the partial refund he received for his flight. You see, it was pro-rated from Denver to the point short of the original destination, AKA, the cornfield.

Compare this to US Airways Captain “Sully” Sullenberger and his crew who did everything right when they ditched their Airbus in then Hudson River. I’d like to think that every crew would handle an emergency as well. The bottom line is the captain is always responsible for the safety of his/her passengers and crew, regardless of the circumstances. That responsibility comes with wearing four stripes.

Some might want to compare Ray’s experience to the recent commuter crash in Buffalo. In this case, the first officer was relatively new and the captain made some poor decisions. While it is easy to draw parallels between these crashes, every emergency is unique. Following the Buffalo crash, the FAA has been considering numerous rule changes that would reduce pilot fatigue. While I would like to think Ray’s United Express crew did some jail time, the reality is they probably just lost their jobs. It’s also important to realize that millions of people fly every year without incident, thus mishaps such as those I’ve described are extremely rare. These days, pilot jobs are so competitive that weak performance is not tolerated. I wouldn’t hesitate to fly on any commercial airliner, regardless of its size. Having said that, getting people close to their destination doesn’t count as an on-time arrival. Fly safe.

What's Up, Let's Argue About It

By Chester Campbell

Last week my colleague Beth Terrell mentioned the challenges involved in the care and feeding of mystery writers. No one knows that better than my wife, Sarah. We always travel together. At our age, you never know how many trips remain in your life's itinerary. But it does make for interesting travels.

Last weekend we drove to Frankfort, KY for the annual Kentucky Book Fair. We alternate driving about 100 miles at a time. Sarah decided to take the first turn, which was a good thing, since that avoided an early argument. I had set up the destination in our Magellan GPS, but it required a few screen taps to get what I wanted it to show--miles to destination. She objects when I start tapping while I'm driving. Really! It's not like I'm texting.

We usually start a trip with a large cup of our favorite beverage, cappuccino. Not the noisy machine-made stuff you get at a coffee shop but the powder and hot water variety that comes from pushing a button at a convenience market. We make it at home using a large container from Sam's. At any rate, we found a Love's up in southern Kentucky and took a pit stop/cappuccino break. I've had a tooth that's been giving me a fit lately (and is scheduled for a root canal tomorrow), so she had to find me a straw, which I used to keep the hot stuff directed away from the recalcitrant molar. I'm not much of a talker normally, even less with dental dynamite going off in my mouth.

I took the wheel at a rest stop shortly before we turned off I-65 on a segment of the Kentucky Turnpike. When we got back on the interstate, Miss Floosie, the GPS lady, didn't come on so I started punching the screen.

"You drive, I'll do that," Sarah said with her best frown.

We probably have more arguments about my driving than anything. Since I have macular degeneration in my right eye, she thinks I can't see well. I had just been to the ophthalmologist, who said I was doing marvelous, that I was one of two or three patients she had where the AMD apparently was slowed by the effects of severe nearsightedness. So some bad things are good.

But that doesn't give me any free passes with my wife. When I turn too sharply and bump a curb, she says, "Didn't you see that?" Of course, I saw it. I just like to jostle her around a bit.

Eventually we made it to the Frankfort Convention Center and dropped off the books I had brought. I got lots of directions for where I should be turning but didn't.

We stayed at the Capital Plaza Hotel just across from the Convention Center. It was a nice room, and we crashed for a couple of hours before time for the Author Reception at Frankfort Country Club. At this event, we sat at a large round table where more folks gathered. Sarah talked to her neighbor and passed around my promo folders. I mostly nursed my food in an attempt to keep the tooth gremlin at bay. I did talk to a mother-daughter combination on my left, learning the younger one had once lived in Nashville and knew about the Marathon Motor works (subject of The Marathon Murders). Both of them bought books on Saturday.

With my chronic cough affecting my voice and the tooth affecting everything, Sarah came to my rescue during the signing, greeting people who passed the table. When she sold a book, I autographed it with a painted on smile. We wound up selling 33 books, which wasn't bad but under different economic conditions surely would have been better.

The trip back home brought more driving discussions, but we made it safely. I'll have to say my wife is a real trooper. She saves the day when I'm selling books, and she does her best to keep me on my toes. We do a lot of arguing, but it always ends with a laugh. As long as we find our disagreements amusing, I guess we'll be okay. I feel that for a much-traveled mystery writer, I'm well fed and cared for.

Fort Hood Shootings Weaponry

by Ben Small

Pat Browning asked some good questions via email about the Fort Hood shootings: How could so many bullets be fired by one person, and how many bullet hits can a body withstand without perishing?

The reports I've seen indicate that Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan was carrying an FN Five-Seven pistol and a .357 revolver. All rounds he fired came from the FN, a semi-automatic pistol which fires a 5.7x28mm cartridge, often called "the cop killer," because some forms of the round have been known to pierce a bulletproof vest.

Lee Lofland hit the nail on the head when he said Hasan intended suicide-by-cop. It's a phenomenon we're seeing quite often these days, where someone is too cowardly to pull the trigger on himself, or maybe is hopes to avoid a life insurance suicide exception, so he decides to let someone else do the job for him, and wants to make a public statement at the same time.

I'm sure there will be further investigation as to Hasan's motives, and I'll let the professionals handle that aspect. But I'd like to make a few comments about the cartridge and the gun Hasan used. I don't own one, but know the former CEO of FNH USA, have discussed the pistol with him, and I have friends who own FN Five-Sevens. I've shot them, and plan eventually to own one. This shooting will not deter me. It's an outstanding weapon.

The cartridge fired by the FN Five-Seven is the 5.7x28mm, a cartridge developed originally in the late 1980s for a personal defense weapon, FN's P-90. The cartridge is really more like a rifle cartridge than a pistol cartridge, much like the .22 Hornet. Here are pictures of the 5.7X28 mm cartridge and the standard 9x19mm Parabellum ("9mm) cartridge. The differences are self-evident.



The 5.7x28mm cartridge weighs roughly half as much as a typical 9mm cartridge, allowing extra ammunition to be carried easily. It also produces roughly 30% less recoil, improving control. It's a high velocity cartridge and features a high ballistic co-efficient, which means it's not only fast but accurate. And the lack of recoil means the gun stays on target, allowing for faster follow-up shots. It's a small, very pointed bullet, which means it will sometimes, in some forms, pass through a so-called "bulletproof" vest. That's why some versions are called "the cop-killer. In fairness, however, it should be noted that the armor-piercing version is only offered to the military and law enforcement, not commercial users. The ATF classifies the commercial versions of this round as "not-armor-piercing."

The FN Five-Seven pistol was designed to take advantage of this cartridge's favorable ballistic characteristics, primarily for military and police work, but it's also available commercially. The FN Five-Seven carries twenty rounds in its magazine, conceals well, and eleven round extensions are available, so it's possible to have thirty-one rounds available -- one in the chamber -- with just one magazine. Assume Hasan had extra magazines available and one can understand how some witnesses estimated a hundred rounds were shot in total. Hasan could have had ninety-one rounds available with just three magazines. Add in the shots fired by police, and the total approximates the round estimates from witness statements.

The FN Five-Seven has found more acceptance internationally than in the U.S. Cops and the U.S military don't like the round because of concerns for excess penetration, given the bullet's high speed and small size. One bullet can hit numerous targets. And the pistol has not been popular commercially because of high cost, both for the pistol and the ammunition. Plus, local gun stores don't usually carry the ammo; you'll probably have to order the round over the internet from large ammo dealers like Cabelas, Cheaper Than Dirt or Midway USA.

But to shoot one of these guns is to want one. The combination of low weight, accuracy and magazine count makes this pistol fun at the range. You won't believe how good your target looks. If you're shooting a beer round, make sure you choose this pistol for your turn.

So Hasan was able to put a lot of rounds downrange in a hurry, and with the penetration capabilities of the round, it's very possible numerous targets were hit with just one bullet. On the other hand, since the bullet itself is very small (only forty grains), its lethality is not assured unless a major organ is struck.

Hasan himself was struck several times but lived. How is this possible? Pat asked. Well, it depends on where he was hit and by what. The usual police carry gun is the 9mm or .40 S&W. The standard U.S. military gun is the Beretta, a 9mm pistol. Its adoption in the 80s was controversial, as the 9mm too is a small bullet. A famous shootout in the 80s in Miami between some bank robbers and the FBI left a number of Febs dead or wounded, as their 9mm weapons and some tactical mistakes allowed the wounded bad guys to keep shooting their much higher powered weapons. This event led to the development of the 10mm cartridge, now used almost exclusively by hunters. The 10mm cartridge proved to be too powerful, i.e. too much penetration, so the cartridge was cut down to a smaller size: the .40 S&W cartridge. A 10mm pistol will shoot the .40 S&W cartridge, but a .40 S&W cannot shoot the 10mm cartridge. A 10mm cartridge will not fit in the cylinder of a .40 S&W gun.

I suspect the shooting officer was firing a 9mm Beretta. If she had used a .40 S&W or the even larger .45 acp, it's more likely Hasan would have been incapacitated sooner. A .45 acp round will cause massive damage. It's about mass. Get hit with a .45, and more than likely, your involvement in the shooting is over. Get hit in the arm, and you'll likely lose that arm. The leg, and you'll likely bleed to death. The same cannot be said of the 9mm cartridge. With that cartridge, it's all about placement. No wonder our military don't like the 9mm cartridge; no wonder officers often opt for a .45 acp 1911.

I also don't know if our heroine, Sergeant Munley, was using a fully jacketed round or a hollow point. I'd guess a fully jacketed round, because that's the standard military round, whereas police generally prefer a hollow point bullet because of the risk of collateral damage with a fully jacketed round, which will pass through a human body. But I don't know this, and I could be wrong. Regardless, the lethality of what she was shooting would depend both on the bullet and where Hasan was hit. And those are facts I do not know.

It's interesting to note that Hasan did not shoot his .357 magnum revolver. That's because it only holds five, six or seven rounds, depending on model, and reloading would take awhile even with a speed loader. With the Five-Seven, however, Hasan just drops the mag, slaps in another, racks the slide, and he's back to shooting again. A new mag might take as little as a second-and-a-half to load.

Regardless, please don't forget: Guns don't shoot people; people shoot people. This guy was intent on killing people and having the cops kill him, and he could have chosen any number of means to achieve his purpose. He probably had access to shotguns, flame throwers and other weaponry, and he targeted a place where he could access a number of folks in a short period where they had no ability to escape. I believe I read Hasan also had available a number of Improvised Explosive Devices ("IEDs). He just happened to choose the FN Five-Seven pistol for his malevolence.

Meatballs and Terra Cotta Soldiers

The Great Wall. My husband and I roamed through China in 1989.

By Pat Browning


Making meatballs, thinking about Xi’an. Not that there’s a connection, although the old Silk Road traders probably roasted bits of yak over open fires. They didn’t have grinders to make yak meatballs. Or maybe they did. People were surprisingly clever 2,000 years ago.


National Geographic will exhibit several of Xi’an’s terra cotta soldiers in Washington, D. C. from November through March 31. They’re worth seeing. Aside from their historical value, they are simply beautiful. From The Washington Post:


QUOTE
The discovery of the Terra Cotta Warriors sent thrills through the archaeology community and the complex where they were found is a World Heritage Site, protected forever.


It was in 1974 that a group of farmers, digging a well outside the town of Xi'an in central China, discovered the tomb of Qin Shihuangdi, who ruled the country from 221 to 210 B.C. It had been underground for more than 2,000 years. As they excavated, Chinese archaeologists discovered a vault with thousands of figures, including 2,000 soldiers, 100 chariots, 400 horses and 300 cavalry horses. It is estimated that 700,000 workers participated in building the underground complex, an effort that lasted more than 36 years. The warrior sculptures were lined up in formation, arranged to protect the emperor in the afterlife.
END QUOTE


You can read the story and watch a video of the soldiers being unpacked at
http://tinyurl.com/ylje2rx.

This was no dinky project. There’s also the story that those thousands of life-sized soldiers and horses were to fool and discourage any spies who might be snooping from a distance. Probably both stories are true – protection in this world and the next.

Xi'an's terra cotta soldiers, on guard for more than 2,000 years.

So, farmers digging a well in 1974 discovered them. I came along with a tour group 25 years later and saw them in the excavation pits. I was the only one of my tour group to visit the pits. Everyone else was back at the hotel, sick in bed. China is a tough trip.


My husband didn’t stir from bed all day. That night, the front desk sent up two doctors who didn’t speak English. When body language couldn’t make them understand that the patient needed a laxative and was allergic to penicillin, the hotel manager was called to translate. He was from Hong Kong, so he had no problem with English. The tab for consultation and medication was about $26.


By the time we got to Wuxi three days later, several group members went straight to bed. An English-speaking doctor made the rounds, giving injections about every six hours at $5 a pop. According to the doctor, the medicine was “western” for younger patients, and “eastern,” meaning herbs, for older ones.


Whatever it was, it got everyone up and about for three days in Shanghai and the flight home, but just barely. Some of our people were sick for weeks afterward. My only problem was that I smelled that wretched red Chinese sauce all the way from Shanghai to Los Angeles. Other than its famous, or infamous, red sauce, I loved Shanghai.


But Xi’an was the place that captured my imagination. I had a few déjà vu moments. I like to think in another life, Xi’an was my jumping off place for a trip on the old Silk Road. I’m the wandering type. The old Silk Road would have been just my cup of tea. Or yak milk.

Old city wall of Xi'an


As if reading my mind, Google took me to the American Museum of Natural History web site. AMNH recently announced a “Traveling the Silk Road” exhibition Nov. 14-Aug.15, 2010. From the press release:


“This intriguing exhibition brings to life one of the greatest trading routes in human history, showcasing the goods, cultures, and technologies from four representative cities: Xi’an, China’s Tang Dynasty capital; Turfan, a verdant oasis and trading outpost; Samarkand, home of prosperous merchants who thrived on the caravan trade; and Baghdad, a fertile hub of commerce and scholarship that became the intellectual center of the era.”


Ah, Xi’an. I could write a book just on the Jianguo Hotel in Xi’an. It’s doing beautifully now. Its listing on the Internet says:


“Each of the 800 rooms at this 4-star hotel have all the comforts and conveniences of home. Hair dryer, air conditioning, in-room movies, tea/coffeemaker, minibar are among the amenities guests will find in every room. In addition, this property in Xian has cocktail lounge, dry cleaning and laundry, conference rooms, business center, restaurants. For the enjoyment of guests interested in sports or leisure, there are sauna, massage, indoor pool, fitness center on the grounds. Guests seeking that perfect blend of attentive care and modern convenience will find it at this lovely hotel.”


I don’t doubt a word of it, but when we checked in that Easter Sunday of 1989 we waited in the lobby for four hours while they finished our rooms. I use the word “finished” loosely. Upstairs, we found hot water but no electricity. Some toilets didn’t flush. In one room the window had no pane. During our 2-night stay the hammering in our wing seldom stopped. Even so, we loved the hotel because the service was superb. Translation: they waited on us hand and foot.


China is so old, so historic, and so cultured, it sometimes seems as if everything began there. I’ve always wondered about the origin of the American Indian. I lean toward the theory that they came from China, across an ice bridge to the American continent.


But then there’s a language study that has early East Coast Indians speaking with a Portuguese accent. Well, why not? The Portuguese were formidable wayfarers once upon a time. And there are those who believe American Indians are descended from the Lost Tribe of Israel. Will we ever know?


Closer to home tonight, the baked meatballs are delicious. I ate a couple for a bedtime snack, and put the rest in the freezer.