Michigan historical commission marks this farmhouse

Farmhouse at former city outskirts of Grand Rapids-(click image for full-size view)

Farms operated for 100 years by the same family (3 or 4 generations, in most cases) are marked with plaques, usually not much bigger than a sheet of letter-size paper on a post within sight of the road edge. But this one gives a more detailed recounting of the significance of the location and its residents. In other parts of the world with far longer records of occupation, probably 150 years would not be of special interest or meaning, by comparison.

Immigrant countries like USA, South Africa, Canada, New Zealand, Australia, Brazil, and so on view the connections to the land and history differently to the societies where relationships to the past, to ancestors, and the land worked by those people is long-standing or perhaps taken for granted; not worthy of plaques or other official recognition by the local government. A major theme among immigrants is economic advantage; bettering your economic (and possibly social) status in the new country in exchange for giving up claims, meanings, and connections to the old country. As a result of this strong urge to succeed in material terms, many immigrants move from place to place to seize better work opportunities, rather than to commit to the community and social relations of just one locale. So the number of farms with many generations holding ownership is rare enough to acknowledge the fact with "Centennial Farm" plaques (100 years of ownership and active agricultural production) or this one telling the story of an early resident on this rural land that now has been surrounded by the expanding city boundaries and house-building of WWII and afterward to accommodate the Baby Boom generation.

Update: current owner removed this marker in 2020

Comparing pop vs. commercial culture: holiday lawn decorations during December

commercial versus popular culture (click image for full size view)

Maybe in in 20 or 25 houses put Christmas scenes, accent lights, or ornaments in front of the building for public display that goes beyond hanging a wreath on the front door. Most of the scenes or figures have to be plugged in for operating the lights (occasionally soundtrack, too) and, for inflatables like these, for running the fan or blower to hold the internal pressure steady. There figures from popular (TV the first two, film for the right-hand figure) are from left to right: Frosty the Snowman (c.1969), The Grinch who Stole Christmas (c. 1966), and Chewbacca of Star Wars (c. 1977). At the front door a green bulb has replaced the normal white illumination, since green and its opposite no the color wheel, red, are prominent colors for the dark nights of Christmas season (evergreens betoken life, even in the dead of winter; red for the berries of some wintertime plants). The red painted planks standing next to the door give one of the seasonal greetings.

A few things come to mind when thinking about the overlapping meanings of commercial culture (significance is mostly instrumental, occupying public space and imaginations thanks to mass creation and distribution) and popular culture (things connected to stories in the society or linked to themes of the language/culture). Popular culture has exited long before industrialization and mass production or consumption. Things like folk songs, folk stories, folk costumes and characters of the stories circulate widely among people and form a shared currency or pool of imagery and words. On the other hand, commercial culture only took the place of, or overshadowed and dominated, things made by hand --one's own or another person specializing in making the thing-- with the rise of factories and mass production and selling.

Another difference is that commercial culture extends beyond what the average person recognizes by brand name or product appearances. This culture includes the people, places, and lore concerning the making of the particular product. By contrast the pop culture, too, extends to places that have no connection or correspondence to commercial operations and experiences. As an example, there are customs that are widely know and practiced (like Christmas stockings hung near a fireplace for the convenience of Santa Claus (or St. Nicolas). To the degree that uniformly sold stockings are widely used, there is a commercial culture layer. And to the degree that home-made, making do, or craft-fair, individually distinct stockings are used in a family's Christmas customs, then it is popular culture that is being referenced and expressed.

Symbolism? Old glory in tatters 2018 December 13

Shredded USA flag hanging together by a thread (click image for full-size view)

As a visual representation of the abuses to USA democracy during the campaign, election, and first 23 months of DJ Trump's occupation of the White House, this flag seems to sum up the situation. The red and white are meant to symbolize the initial 13 colonies that joined together to declare independence from the United Kingdom, while the blue field carries one star to symbolize each of the present-day 50 states. Translating the scene into words, it could be read as "distraction and distress are tearing apart the union; what is more this economic and social fabric of the society is only hanging on by a thread."

A recent news story tells about the 44 former US senators who signed an open letter that appeared in the Washington Post in early December 2018 to urge the current national leaders to stand up to the abuses and illegal acts of the disgraceful occupant of the White House. See https://www.npr.org/2018/12/13/676346772/former-sen-william-cohen-among-those-who-urge-current-leaders-to-defend-democrac

Thanks to technology of mass communication and social media, as well as mass participation in public discourse and decision-making, it is increasingly possible, practical, and expected that citizens can scrutinize the words and deeds of elected officials and civil servants, and to hold them accountable for their words and deeds. Perhaps that oversight and pressure will lead to better governance in the future, but for now the fragmentation and chatter of so many people seems to result in the opposite to oversight and accountability; rather, we see divisiveness and distractedness.

see also https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/flag-desecration-laws

Killing the deer, paying the meat processors, claiming the trophies

early December local weekly newspaper: hunters' page

The weekly newspaper is a mix of advertising, sports coverage, public service information and government announcements, legal notices, and feature stories. For many years around the time of the annual firearm deer hunting season there has been a picture section with brief identification of the hunter(s) and the number of antler points on the slain animal.

Partly this public display of wild animals killed by licensed hunters is made possible by digital cameras, Internet transmission of images, and desktop editing the layout of the newspaper. In this electronic way, then, very recent events can be placed into the pages of the small print-run newspapers that are delivered to businesses and households each week.

But more than the technology of rapid reporting and citizen journalism, a more interesting question is why do readers and the newspaper editors put the stories and relatively large images in print for the two weeks starting November 15 in the state of Michigan? Not every household that receives a paper includes a current or former hunter of their own, and not every reader is familiar with the protagonists in the photos, but maybe they will have heard the family name of at least one of them. That same can be said of the editors: maybe one or two hunters will be known in some way by one or two staff at the newspaper. This social acquaintance or personal relationship does not explain the reason why the page reserved for local stories and surrounded by advertisers is devoted to the hunting season results. But as a two week event involving humans against (or in cooperation with) nature, there is an element of drama and ancient struggle implied, even if the technology and creature comforts have advanced a lot from earlier days.

In summary perhaps it is a combination of timely event (the hunting season), visual interest (pictures attract readers and require less effort than text-alone), some personal connection, and the ancient drama suggested in the frozen image that culminates the hunter's training, preparation, and execution of the chase. All these things together help the local paper to keep readers coming back for more, much to the satisfaction of the local businesses whose advertising keeps them in the eye of the community of readers.

Sharing food, conversation, and the company of others

2018 community dinner on Thanksgiving day in Clinton Co., Michigan

The community feast started here in 2010 with the idea of a hot meal and traditional menu (turkey, pies, etc) for one and all, whether a big family, or someone living alone. Some cities feed hundreds of diners and volunteers, but for a rural county seat with 55,000 residents across the entire county, the number of meals is 120 to 200.

The concept of "all together" instead of "can't afford the full production of a traditional Thanksgiving feast" was one obstacle that the steering committee persistently worked on. In their news releases and advertising, word of mouth, and the interactions with donors and diners and volunteers the message was stubbornly expressed: this is not a free lunch for poor people, but rather a shared space for all to mingle and embrace the abundance connected with the feeling of thanksgiving.

There were so many operational details to manage in order to prepare the people, the foods, the venue, and the volunteers and diners. Then all leftovers were expertly packed into sets of 4-person meals to be frozen at the local food pantry and given out in the following weeks. Beyond these descriptive details and the history of the undertaking, though, perhaps most interesting of all is the "why" question. There is the nutritional and social satisfaction of the event for all parties engaged, but there are probably deeper reasons to take on the work of staging the public occasion that come from this moment in history here and in so many other urban centers around the state and the union.

Until ten years ago the trends of increasingly isolated, privatized lives were separating people from each other more and more until people, even ones in the same household or family, were living parallel lives and only intersecting briefly at times of crisis or comfort. Around this same time in the early 2000s the power of the Internet reached a point that mobile devices as possessions, personal accessories, status symbols, and functional communication and recording machines made it possible and practical to fulfill the Internet Religious Principle that "information wants to be free" (not owned, controlled, produced by credentialed experts or specialists). Sadly, the related Principle that Google promotes in its company, "Do No Evil," has been less widely embraced. One of the results of making it easy to find information, easy to add your own information, and easy to create fraud is that the price of expertise sometimes dissolves with the touch of a search button. People self-diagnose health complications, sometimes with success and many other times with failure.

There is a belief that information carefully won and organized can be made flat; that hierarchies can be dispensed with; that with enough bandwidth and processor power the entire known haystack can be searched to find the proverbial needle. While that is magical when it works and the electrical supply is uninterrupted, there is a side-effect of eliminating the structures, sequences, priorities, and principles that ruled expertise pre-Internet. By obliterating distinctions and treating all information and the data it rests upon as equal in value, a false sense of confidence (hubris, perhaps) is spreading, and a feeling that nothing matters; everything is the same importance. A society without boundaries may be liberating, but it also is uprooting. Even facts can be dispensed with since every standpoint is relativistic. Anything that is good and lasting in value can freely float to the surface; but so can wretchedness.

So as the already self-reliant, independent, self-referential lives have spread, this Internet capacity for removing boundaries and hierarchies has amplified the unrooted feelings among increasingly contingent, economically unstable livelihoods of so many people in rural and urban USA. In reaction to this observation or vaguely anxious feeling a few organizers and many donors have responded year by year, offering a chance to begin relationships with others in the community known by face but not by voice or name.

Night-life and small town movie theaters - viewing the outside world

before the Internet, rich audio-visual experiences were formed here

The theater building on main street in Lowell, Michigan 49331 appears on the Wiki-Shoot-Me (photographing your hometown) project. The interactive map can be searched by postal code or place name to view red dots that lack a photo and invite an upload. The green dots indicate the buildings, parks, monuments and so on that already have a photo to represent them. An example of the dots from city center in Grand Rapids, MI 49503 is online at tinyurl.com/wikishootme49503

A certain number of the buildings identified for photo uploads to document the cultural landscape consist of former movie theaters, where people would spend their money before home entertainment of televisions became affordable and the programming attracted buyers of the appliances in the 1960s. Even with a small black and white TV, later color, many people in the 1970s and less so the 1980s still found it worth congregating in front of the big screen for bigger than life adventures, love stories, and historical or fantasy worlds brought to life. Later the proliferation of video cassettes (1980s) and DVDs (1990s), as well as premium programs delivered by cable providers to the privacy of one's home would greatly diminish the movie going habits that reigned supreme from 1920 to 1980.

These days some of the old theaters live on as live stages or have been repurposed for retail sales. Other buildings are vacant or have been razed. But still within living memory of people in their 40s and older, there is the sight of dusk on a summer evening as the marquee lights shine with the title of the feature film, along with its mmpa age-rating (G for general audiences including children, PG-13 for parental guidance or kids 13 and older, R for restricted to age 18 and above, X and XX and XXX for "adult" entertainment). As a subset of those mass entertainment heydays of movie theaters, there was also a time when outdoor screens of drive-in theaters attracted many drivers and their passengers during the warmer weather, perhaps from the 1940s until the middle of the 1970s. Collectively it is hard to gauge the influence of and the importance on viewing culture and the worldviews cultivated in young minds by these big scenes on the silvery screens.

Curating your local history - why does the past call us?

local history museum & marker (state historical commission), 48879

This brick house covered in brick-red paint served the health needs of the people in St. Johns, Michigan with three successive medical practices: Drs. Paine, Gillam, and then Scott. Click the photo for full-size view and legible bronze marker text.

This photo prompts the question of what kind of people recognize value, curiosity, or merit in knowing the past and communicating it to others; or more generally of all the currently living residents, what place does the (local) past occupy in their minds, their self-image, and the plans they make in reference to those earlier generations of residents in the area? For a point of comparison there are parts of the world where relatively little changed in status and possessions and aspirations or imagination from one generation to the next. So the separation of past and present and future was not very clear or necessary. And even when the pace of changes goes faster and one generation's experiences and life chances differ to their parents and grandparents, as well contrasting the generations that follow, then the significance of the past-present relationship might not necessarily be emphasized much. After all, in a land with long history and identities adopted from one's family line rather than of one's single-handed, self-making, then the past serves as a kind of unearned, accumulated cultural capital; something that is background like sunlight or air, available to all and abundant in supply with little need to articulate, package, or label. It just "is."

But in an immigrant country it is your achievements that stand for who you are; not your surname, your original property base, or "your people." So in this county seat in mid-Michigan that dates its establishment to 1856, there were settlers from many places to the east and sometimes across the ocean. Neighbors probably did not know your family history or ethnic achievements, so only the fruits of your working and your appearances could identify you in the eyes of peers and even for your own self-image. When there are relatively few generations, and there are relatively many technological changes and world events that punctuate the 150 timeline, then curating a story about the past takes on meaning to some segments of the population, especially for the mainly retired people volunteering at the museum and the ones bringing donations of artifacts, documents, images, and oral histories. In one's elder years, reflecting on the world and one's lifetime is a natural preoccupation; wondering if one has made a positive difference in others' lives and the local landscape. And so, while it is only a fraction of the overall residents in the area who take interest in participating, visiting the museum, or hunting for clues and answers to the past, for these people at least, the local past is vivid and rich with connections to the present and one's own self.

After death - remembering somebody dearly departed

pin boards with lifetime trajectory at memorial service a week after death

Whether the person is closely related or distantly known, it is hard to articulate the fullness of a life in a few pictures, stories shared with the bereaved family members, and the fellowship of food and drinks with the others after the ceremony is complete.

In the past 10 years the businesses that guide and provide for customers who want to celebrate the life and to mark the death of a loved one publicly, rather than to do so themselves or in a way not open to people outside of the immediate family have begun to offer multi-media life stories to summarize some of the places, people, achievements, and stages of life for the person who has died. It could be a movie or (kiosk, autoplay) slideshow, with or without music. But the effect is not too much different to these boards of family snapshots and a few formal photographs grouped by era or theme. No matter if the visitors see the moments of the person's life in prints or digitally, at the ceremony or online at the funeral company's website, the lingering feeling of "but this is only a shadow of a much fuller and meaning-filled existence."

Those dressed up for the ceremony and following along the scripture readings, sermon of remembrance, and musical interludes may experience moments with private thoughts and reflections of their own. And while the combined experience of the life arc in photos and the publicly recounted words do invoke some of the character and presence of the newly deceased friend or relative, for others who want to know the person's life more than this, long after the ceremony has concluded, the ability to construct a whole personhood and whole living environment of social interchange is very limited. In other words, in the same way that the 1st person experience of living and life and intending the purposes that give one's own life meaning is so very rich, so, too, is the researcher's grasp of that life so very impoverished and even one-dimensional; flat and lacking in aspirations, worries, risks, or expectations.

In the end, what genealogists have to work with is a fraction of the traces left behind by the person; a collection dates for Birth, Marriage(s), and Death. Things like good deeds done or kind words spoken or written seldom leave a ripple or a witness afterwards. Maybe there are details of addresses occupied, along with work performed and avocations. If there are journals or diaries or family stories that can be collected, then a bit more of the texture, flavor, and nuance can be conveyed, too. But even when given the richest documentary resources for a person, the portrait that unfolds across life's stages is far different to the live person in 360 degree active living and learning. Is this absence and simplification something to dismay (so impoverished and incomplete as it is) or something to be glad of (the impracticalities of knowing and holding onto the whole person)? Whether we dismay or sigh in relief, the facts remain of mortal existence and the limited meaning one occupies in the minds of those left behind. The difference between now and a generation ago is that mountains of digital images, text, and other artifacts can sometimes be mined in the effort to paint a portrait of the person across her or his lifespan. But no matter how much there is to mine, the result will necessarily be partial and incomplete.

Good-bye rice fields, hello residential buildings in Echizen city, Fukui prefecture

Adjacent rice paddies have been covered in a gravel suitable to support and drain the poured cement foundations of single-family houses. But this section includes a deep pit and since houses in Japan do not include subsurface storage basements, perhaps this project will mirror the ones on the horizon: multi-story blocks of apartments or condominiums ('manshon').

Watching the operator of this heavy equipment scoop the subsurface mix of water and gravel, then swirl the mix to rinse away the smaller particles, it is easy to see how deftly his touch is. By the end of the clip the mechanical shovel tips the washed gravel into the pile off to the right.

Ringing the temple bell as the bus with mourners arrives for the memorial service at the temple

Some local residents know the temple of Gotanjo-ji as the "cat temple" because strays, abandoned, and unwanted felines are welcome there at any age and in any condition. One briefly comes into view as the camcorder moves from the bell platform across the parking lot to the bus where mourners are stepping off.

Buddhist temples in rural Japan vary in their scope and depth of engagement with parishioners. Some were founded with the labor and money of a core group of families long ago and have grown as the descendants increase. Others, particular Zen temples like this one, came about as a good deed by a single benefactor or a small number of founders who endow it, thus making it independent of ongoing contributions and involvement of parishioners. The case of Gotanjo-ji (literally, 'birthday temple') stands out from many other places of worship created in the most recent generation or two. The name refers to one of Soto-Zen's early leaders many hundred years ago who was born only a short bicycle ride from here. Looking at the memorial markers and family tombstones, there are many that are non-traditional in theme or design; for example, carved with "arigatou" (thanks or grateful) instead of a Buddhist phrase. Many of the markers seem to refer to individuals instead of family units, as is traditional. Furthermore, those one-person markers frequently give a home location of a prefecture other than Fukui. In other words, for people without ties to another place or a family unit, this temple welcomes them to reserve a spot for their cremains, whether they are a member of this temple's congregation or not.

traveling Fukui-ken by rail early Saturday past factories and rice paddies toward the mountains

A minute or so after leaving J.R. Takefu station and heading to Kyoto for the national holiday of Culture Day (bunka-no-hi) the view changes from backs of houses and gardens to more open spaces where land is still farmed and the views to the horizon are not blocked. The morning light casts long shadows that exaggerate the shapes.

In the distance on the mountainside is a lower and darker slope where the large Shinto shrine stands, Oshio Hachiman Jingu. In the festival season it fills with neighborhood residents (ujiko) and visitors from surrounding towns and prefectures.

walking to some Kyoto temples - the hilly Kiyomizu-dera vicinity

This video shows one segment of the steady stream of afternoon visitors to some of the Buddhist temples along the west-facing slope of Higashi-yama, not far from Kyoto's main rail station.

On the horizon is Kodai-ji, with Kiyomizu-dera to the right of the frame and some distance behind the camcorder. At the very end of the clip someone dressed in kimono comes into view. With the fine fall weather every now and then somebody in the colorful traditional clothing could be seen on this day. A shop along a busy road was renting the kimono, perhaps mainly for the foreign visitors to pose for pictures and to have a short experience of walking this way.

Chanting a sutra at the head temple of Pure Land Buddhism of Japan in Kyoto

The strong voice of the priest carries into the air from inside this prayer hall up on the hillside where the temple complex has been for hundreds of years. He punctuates the rhythmic text with a floor bell at first. Then later he uses the hard, clear sound of sticks to accelerate the beat of the text.

This Saturday afternoon in early November is the national holiday called Bunka-no-Hi (Culture Day). In addition to followers of the Pure Land Buddhism from other temples around Japan, there are visitors from other branches of Buddhism in Japan or from overseas, as well as people with no direct connection to Buddhism who wish to walk the grounds and see some of the notable parts of the place.

live theater long ago and today - Kyoto's Kabuki-za

For the past 100 years when artificial dyes and synthetic fabrics, neon, and plastics have made daily life filled with color, and with semi-conductors making battery powered sources of light and color ever more visually stimulating, people's awareness and arousal by color has been dulled. So the fantastical costumes, make-up, and effects of the pre-electronic and pre-plastic period of kabuki theater seems to make less of an impression on the audiences of now.

kabukiza in Kyoto

This clip from the national Culture Day holiday in Kyoto shows the front of the theater with its flashes of the metallic petals flickering in an eye-catching display not normally seen on a building facade; goodness knows what happens during the typhoon season!

With the relentless pace of innovations in consumer electronics, personal transportation, and software apps for mobile phones, it is nice to see that performance art forms like kabuki continue to attract audiences - whether it is first-timers and foreigners, or it is life-long fans who follow the stage careers of their favorite actors. Perhaps there is some element of nostalgia for pre-electronic, pre-telecommunication times. And maybe, too, there is another element of wanting to financially supporting older art forms for its own sake, whether one is deeply involved or is a more distant supporter. Whatever the mix of motivations in the audience, or even within one person, the productions continue to be made and tickets continue to sell.

Train lines running in many directions - downtown Osaka, Japan

Efficiently and economically moving through a big urban landscape is a thing of wonder when everything is work well, as it almost always seems to be: generations of engineering design for materials, safety, signage to minimize user confusion or mistakes, pricing of products, lighting design to direct the foot traffic and to discourage nefarious activity, maintenance of infrastructure, incorporating emerging technology (smartphone apps and notifications), and programs of training for new staff and technical experts all have to figured out and kept up to date. Changing weather (or natural disaster) conditions call for special alterations to normal schedules, and so on.

On this early Sunday morning ride from central Osaka to the KIX international airport in the bay the train meets other ones traveling in the opposite direction on the left side or the right side. Ones that are slowing sometimes are overtaken by this limited express service as it speeds past some of the minor platforms. At other times another train traveling in parallel diverges along its path, leaving this train's route and disappearing into the distance. It is hard to imagine what a time-traveler from 50 or 100 years ago would think of the brightly lit carriages with heated seats in the cold season and air-conditioning in the hot season.

Cutting both ways - life-filled art and death-filled swords

click image for full-size view: one of the old katana blades on display 11/2018

The fall 2018 special exhibit at the National Museum of Kyoto, Japan features more than 100 historical Japanese swords, in conjunction with another exhibit that gathers characters from graphic novels (manga) who carry similar weapons.

The crowds on Saturday, November 3 (Culture Day) were considerable and for safety reasons were only admitted in groups of 12 every 5 or 10 minutes to keep pace with the circuit starting on the 3rd floor and wending down to the ground floor. The museum-ification takes the fearful instruments out of their historical context, being worn by samurai with the authority in defined situations to strike down lower status people and also being treated as treasured wealth or status among the samurai, not to mention the occasional application in a field of battle or for use in ritualized self-embowelment. So the glass cases with beams of spot lighting in the dim gallery, the absence of owner, scabbard, and grip all contributed to the hyper-aestheticized experience of viewing the swordsmiths' work up close.

collaborative to the fall special exhibition of swords (from Kyoto smithies, especially): manga characters toting katana

Reflecting on the artifacts from the point of view of social analysis or commentary, though, these weapons - despite the aesthetic attributes - were ultimately a tool for killing, much like handguns are today. Theoretically they can be used for something other than destroying human life, but that remains the primary application. And yet in the gallery setting, the horror they may have caused, the coercion they may have emanated, or the high-stakes encounters between pairs or groups of armed combatants is all erased. Instead there is the wonder of process and craftsmanship. There is a similar feeling when visiting the permanent exhibit of swords and guns arranged chronologically at the USA's National Museum of the American Indian in order to impress visitors with one of the fatal technologies that mediated the relationships between Native Peoples north and south of the equator and the aliens from across the Atlantic. Here, too, the wavy glass wall that mounts the many artifacts of hundreds of craftsmen, sellers - buyers - traders - scavengers, and collectors presents an aesthetic sensory experience rather than an indictment or set of case histories that record each weapon's curriculum vita, for example.

From a high altitude viewpoint, it is fair to say that economic surplus (usually thanks to the domesticated grains of settled agricultural society) and the technology of death (removing anybody who interferes with the smooth harvest of taxes extracted by high-status power holders), such as the sword makers and users on display here, is what made possible the concentrated cultural centers of learning, wealth accumulation, and technical advances in social organization/management and in drawing more resources from the Earth and its living and unliving things. And so, beyond the historical interest, the march forward in technical improvements of carbon steel, and the artistic curve of killing blades, this collection of regional swordsmithing is an essential part of the Japanese society that grew during the past 1,000 years on the islands.

email junk messages ('spam'), October 2018

In the run-up to USA mid-term elections for governors and other state officials, as well as the races for national legislators (senators and the representatives) false email to lure a person to respond has increased. This baited hook is called "phishing" (to distinguish the deadly catch from water-based 'fishing'). This screenshot gives one small sampling of the lures being used, concentrated on a couple of topics.

Set of phishing attacks with diverse subjects line to attract attention. Email software judged these as spam automatically.

The themes indicated by "sender" or by "subject line" include diet and weight loss offer, health insurance plans, marijuana medicinal derivative, time-share resort property troubles, retirement offers for investment, penis enlargement, and veterans' benefits assistance. In other words, the topics revolve around body improvement (weight loss, pain management, insurance, or sexual betterment) or property and entitlements (veterans' benefits, resort properties, retirement scheme).

Since online shopping data and other traces of a person's demographic and spending habits (locations, amounts, subject matter) are bought and sold, sometimes with accuracy and other times bogus in the types of products or services to pitch to the person, the above illustration does not reflect the full spectrum of bait used in phishing for all email users in the society. But still, it does give a sampling of the sorts of appeals made to one's person or one's (financial) prospects. Perhaps 10 or 100 years from now there will be other topics and methods of digitally deceiving people.

drawing the line between indoors & outdoors, home & wild

House along the lakeshore with living space that merges interior and exterior conditions,

This intermediate, built-space is not common in USA, but among ancient and modern Japanese dwellings and other buildings there is a well-developed interplay of inside and outside. Things like outdoor furniture, walkways, verandas that extend from the side of the building, and carpet-like open spaces of moss all give the impression of being habitable, something like the interior spaces, but without the same control of temperature, humidity, and light. Worldview and the relationships between outdoor creatures and conditions differ in each society. For many generations in USA this was an adversarial relationship: fighting the cold, resisting the humidity, defending against insect infestation or wild animals living in the built space. But this recent house construction shows this more open relationship with the outdoors now.

Tender young age - how will they grow up; what world will they inherit

Late afternoon Wednesday at this small town, suburban (or exurban) park there were a few cars parked. Playing in the fountains and sprinklers and other sources of clean, chlorinated water were a few small children and their parent(s) or perhaps grandparent(s). Posted under the shade-giving overhanging roof of the public toilets was a young representative of the city occupying this summer job and responsible for locking up, turning off the water, calling the city office in case of injury, liability nightmare, or misuse of the equipment, and so on. From one perspective this kind of facility, its operation, and the habits or expectations of the people who come to use the equipment is not remarkable. It is an example of local government and budgets being administered well, rules being followed, and policies adjusted to fit the changing realities of families and other residents. In other words, these scenes are normal, desirable, and possibly something all citizens around the country should be entitled to; it is not something strange, extravagant, or unrealistic to achieve and maintain.

But after hearing news stories of refugees in camps, in transit, or in distress; or the stories of harsh and sometimes violent lives held up in the news media glare, something like little children amusing themselves outdoors seems like some sort of privilege or wished-for dreamland. Perhaps both perspectives are true, in the eyes of the beholder: this scene is normal and not special, but also this scene is statistically not common or conceivable.

Fast-forward 20 years and these small children will probably have grown up without major trauma or serious disease; many will have completed some form of higher education, some will be on leadership tracks to administer, manage, or direct matters of business, public sector, or professional services. Possibly their cohort from places impoverished, relative to this early childhood example, also will rise to opportunities of leadership or creative expression, but the obstacles are many more, and the role models and mentors are many fewer by comparison. Already from this tender young age the differences in life chances - the doors that seem to be open, the number and kinds of impediments and temptations and risks, and the expectations of self and in the eyes of others - all these things already are very different for one segment of this generation compared to another segment, based on postal code (residential location).

memoirs in print, World War II (city library, English language editions)

click image for full file view: Dewey Decimal classification 940.53... (start)

At the Grand Rapids (Michigan) Public Library there are about 42 shelves with books recounting events and experiences of the Second World War. A few are English translations of books whose authors wrote in another language. But most are told by writers whose first language is English. So this large collection, a subset of all English language titles published to date, mostly excludes the point of view and voices of non-anglophone Allies, as well as Axis combatants and others who were neutral or at least not connected directly to either the Allies or Axis leaders. Impressionistically taking a typical shelf of about 20 books, multiplying by 42 shelves, gives a crude estimate of the 840 books available to browse. The ones borrowed by patrons and the ones held in remote storage, thus, fall outside of this simple calculation.
     Thinking of the long process of drafting, editing, and working with a publisher and distributor, it is not an exaggeration to say that for every book that stands on these shelves, perhaps 2 or 3 reached the manuscript (or typescript) draft stage, but never reached the printing press (or maybe vanity press only for private circulation; not public non-fiction shelves of city libraries). And for every book ready for readers to borrow here, maybe there were 10 others that got past the day-dreaming stage and made a start with a chapter or two, but which faced delay or distraction or the author's own demise. Perhaps two or three times the number of "begun, but not completed" books developed in the mind of the potential writer, but never were set to paper - instead left to oral history or recorded in audio notes.
     Speculatively, for every published book that this library purchased, suppose there were 5 others not purchased; 15 others that were complete drafts but which never were printed for sale; 150 others that began to be set on paper but never were completed; and 400 others that took hold in the potential author's mind, but which never were committed to paper. Scaling these numbers up 100 times these speculations would mean for every 100 books of this kind there could be 500 titles to choose from (in print, but not purchased by this city library); 1500 others that were complete drafts that did reach publication; 15,000 that were begun but never completed, and 40,000 that were conceived in the potential author's mind but never took physical form. In other words, each of these approximately 840 physical books is the pinnacle of a large pyramid built of all those potential memoirs that never reached the shelf to circulate among fellow veterans of the War, their relatives and the students of history in succeeding generations.

click image for full file view: Dewey Decimal classification 940.54.. (end)

It would be interesting to know if the rate (per capita) of memoir publication were something similar to this volume of output seen from English language authors, chiefly from the countries of USA, UK, Eire, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and the British Empire's Commonwealth countries, for that matter. And so long as speculation and imagination are let loose, it would also be interesting to analytically discern some of the main purposes and effects among authors in the telling and publishing of personal interpretations of events on the ground, as experienced: is there distinct therapeutic value that results from articulating "vast periods of boredom, punctuated by moments of intense violence," as some writers have described armed conflict. Or is there some sense of reckoning or justice and honor that comes from recounting the names and circumstances of others destroyed in the course of events; recording misdeeds as well as documenting other actions worthy of praise. Or is these, above all, some kind of instructive lesson about the great waste of life, resources, social fabric, and harm to the planet's creatures to be set in ink, "lest we forget." There is built-in drama, both comedy and tragedy, in the telling and reading of these pages. But that seems to be a less important function, compared to the several other purposes that may be intended by facing the details, checking facts, and polishing one's prose and verse to make it presentable for publication.
     The demographic shape of the blood-soaked edge of opposing forces is males between age 18 and 25, with a relatively slight number of 17 year olds joining up, and relatively smaller proportion of those above the age of 35. So if most of the published accounts of events and experiences come from this biggest demographic segment, then the images and words will have stuck during a formative or impressionable point of one's life and continued to shape post-war outlook and approach to problem solving. Of course, the ratio of those facing direct risk of life in combat to those who make possible the operation of uniformed military services on air, land, and sea is another kind of pyramid; not a demographic one, but a similar disproportion: every fighting man was dependent on perhaps 25 or 50 or 100 others who produced, organized, and distributed logistical needs both physical and informational. Caring for those harmed, and repairing what is ruined in the clashes, as well as the thousands of record-keepers also were instrumental to putting a pilot in the air, a sailor on a ship, or a soldier on the march. So, if the memoir writers mainly come from those people directly affected by combat, then the 840 books on these shelves is a testament to the will of those motivated and capable of putting these matters in ink. But for every title that is on the shelf and available for circulation among library card holders in 2018, more than 70 years since armed conflict ended, there must have been so many others that have not been published. And for every veteran of these wars and all others, too, many more finally reached a point in their lives and with the passage of time to be able to tell family or friends of some events and experiences that haunted them forever and ever since they occurred. But even more, perhaps, never did feel able to articulate those things that have stuck with them to the end.
     The seven-part documentary series of 2007 by Ken Burns & Lynn Novick, The War, uses four U.S. cities as intersecting lenses to tell the stories at home and in the field: Sacramento, CA; Waterbury, CT; Luverne, MN; and Mobile, AL. Condensing the global conflict into personal stories is a huge undertaking that reduces "too much information" into terms that an uninformed viewer, several generations removed from the war years, can understand or at least glimpse a little of. But looking at the 840 titles here on the shelves, patiently waiting for new readers to discover the stories told, it seems that there is much more to understand than what documentary film is capable of expressing.

Community Performances (civic theater) as social fabric measurement

balcony view of stage at Grand Rapids Civic Theater (Michigan)

One after another the city of Grand Rapids is venue to locally produced stage productions of high quality and wide range of styles and subjects. Before the announcement about switching digital devices to silent or turning them off and the opening scene unfolding with the curtain's rise, one of the leaders for volunteer services and management spoke briefly about audience members committing to season subscription; in effect pre-paying for 6 performances, thus bankrolling the enterprise up-front to meet costs, rather than paying at the ticket gate, one show at a time. She gave a few numbers to capture the attention of audience members who respond to the persuasive logic of numbers: 700 volunteers operate behind the scenes, at the seating areas, in concessions and ticket counter, and in the costumes as actors, not to mention set construction and movement. Only the administrative staff, (union?) musicians, and cleaners are paid. Other costs are performance rights, venue costs for rehearsal and performances, printing of programs and publicity efforts. In the lobby areas are some frames scenes of past productions, along with donor recognition displays with hundreds of names at the various levels of contribution, including individual and corporate sponsors.

The experience of buying a ticket, searching for seating area and being guided the rest of the way by an usher, then sitting down in comfortable but compact theater seats for 3 hours of live entertainment, relieved for a 15 minute intermission, is very pleasant. Certainly the experience on the stage and backstage or in the orchestra pit will be a little more anxious, since there is so much to coordinate: singing, lighting, musical cue and accompaniment, audio mixing and balancing the individual speaking or singing roles (each one WiFi mic'ed) in proportion to the orchestra; sound effects, costumes changed and sets moved, props accounted for and everything placed on tape marks on the stage according to plan. There is make-up and vocal warm-up, last minute changes, repairs or adjustments. Then the movements of the players on the stage, their direction of gaze, their enunciation, and sense of timing with each other  --all this must fit into the complex and delicate threads that form the drama.

The whole thing begins long before the opening night when the subject or title is selected and rights purchased, then the casting and rehearsing, considerations of costume, set design and lighting and sound design, musicians or audio recorded track, publicity, etc all must be taken into account. At last the performance nights arrive and all must be at-ready for each one. The crew and cast come to the venue from the home or workplace (day-job) and perform the piece, then clean-up and go home to rest. The whole magical dance of materials, text, timing, and audience response exists for a matter of weeks and then is gone forever, remaining only as memories of melody, dramatic tension that resolves, or maybe a character that is brought to life with some of the lines spoken that linger in the ear of the audience.

In the days before recorded entertainment, live music and live theater was the pinnacle of cultural stimulation for mind and heart. New ideas were put into the words of characters or the complications of plot. New fashions were on display. New language and social standards were celebrated or tested or criticized. But in the amplified, supercharged sights and sounds today, the theatrical space seems to pale, even as it trumps recorded art with the face to face presence and authenticity it requires. And so it seems that civic theater is a 'canary in a coal mine' for showing the health of a city or town. It takes a lot of effort and imagination to bring all the elements together in public performance. So a place that can sustain live theater, and to some extent live music, does seem to enjoy social fabric that is living and breathing.