Eataly

This remarkable place has got to be as much fun as an amusement park. I was wide-eyed with wonder during my entire visit. It really is a must see place in New York City.
by Charlie Leck

On a recent visit to Manhattan, my daughter (now a solid Manhattan resident) took us down to Eataly, a remarkable gourmet Italian grocery store and deli on Fifth and Sixth Avenues between 23rd and 24th Streets. I have never seen anything like it in all my life. If I were a New Yorker, I’d spend a lot of time in Eataly, believe me. It looked to me as if New Yorkers agree. The place was packed with every imaginable age and type of city dweller. You could tell the New Yorkers from the non. The out-of-towners were the opened-mouth ones, like I, with looks of absolute amazement on their faces.

You can make an on-line visit to Eataly, in order to learn more about it, right here.

My goodness, it’s a fun place to visit. I saw more Italian cheeses and meat cuts than I have ever seen in one place in my life. Neither have I ever seen so many different types of olive oils, pastas, pesto and pasta sauces. The butcher shop – one of the largest I’ve ever seen – displayed every imaginable type of meat and cut. It also clearly displayed how meat is perfectly dry aged over a number of days. I’ve never seen better looking lamb cuts anywhere. In a world that makes it difficult to find veal, Eataly displays an array of beautiful cuts. There’s bison, duck and goat!

You would believe the seafood section. My goodness, I’ve never seen such a huge selection of types of fresh seafood. And, there’s a housewares area and a book shop; and also and a huge section set aside for the freshest and prettiest produce I’ve ever seen. Coffee? All kinds of marvelous coffee beans from places around the globe. Vinegar? Maybe a hundred different types from which to choose.

In a remarkable deli restaurant, which seems to be spread all around the store, you can sample some of the most marvelous cheese, salumi and prosciutto you ever dreamed about – along with numerous remarkable sauces and condiments. Or go for a full-fledged Italian meal. There are dozens of beers from which to choose and a remarkable list of wines from dozens of nations. The waiters are remarkably helpful and knowledgable. They can spot a first-time visitor from blocks away and they jump right in to make you stop there comfortable and enjoyable. Go for some Italian ice cream for dessert or any number of delectable pastries.

And, if you want to attend cooking classes, there’s a remarkable school at Eataly that offers dozens of classes in cooking Italian.

If you ever visit Manhattan, one of your stops has got to be Eataly. It will be crowded no matter when you visit, but this is one of the things, I think, that makes it really fun.

This is one of the greatest cities in the world. Everything is available to you here. The greatest art museums and entertainment venues in the world are right there on the island. And what restaurants! There are hundreds and hundreds of them vying for your attention. You want botanical gardens or sheep pastures or outdoor markets? You’ve got them in the city – either on the island or in a close by borough. Yet, Eataly is so remarkable that it should rank right up there with the best tourist stops in town.

When I visit Manhattan again, I’m going to block out a couple of hours just to wander around through Eataly. And, in the mean time, I’m going to give the store’s on-line shopping service a try also.

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Pope Francis on Gay Rights

NY Times article is extremely helpful in understanding what the Pope has said about gays and gay life. Catholic or not, you really ought to read it.
by Charlie Leck

Not much of a blog today…
I’m simply urging you to read something that I really shouldn’t try to rewrite here since it is so clear and helpful in the original. The gay rights question is massive right now. The Roman Catholic Church in Minnesota made a fool out of itself in the 2012 election. It spent far too much of the Church’s money in an attempt to get a constitutional amendment against gay marriage passed by the voters. It lost. It was money that could have been used for other more important (and even vital) services. The Church here simply wasn’t using its head or its heart.

Now speaks the Pope, trying to use both head and heart. He doesn’t necessarily speak for me, but what he says is very important in a world where he has a huge impact. Read the NY Time article by Rachel Donadio about what the Pope said and what it means.

The Pope treaded carefully and still won’t open up the doors on women in the priesthood, but we’ve definitely seen a crack here through which some light may seep.

I’ll return more fully tomorrow.

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Sometimes a Photograph

My daughter, our youngest kid, took some photographs for me last week at my high school class reunion. I never expected such excellence!
by Charlie Leck

I’ve been blown away by some photographs in the last few days. A good friend forwarded an email he received from one of his friends that included an array of wonderful historical photographs that just grabbed my attention and gave me a number of rich, wonderful viewing moments. I spent a considerable time examining nearly every one of them. If I can get permission, I’ll share them here on my blog for you to see also (as of this moment I don’t know what the copyright provisions are).

For this moment, however, I want to share a few very artistic photographs my daughter took at my high school class reunion last week. I had asked her to come out to NJ with me to take photographs of each of the attending classmates and, perhaps, their spouses. She did.

I never expected such startling and beautiful results. Cynthia is a student right now at the International Center of Photography in Manhattan. To this point, she isn’t planning to make this a profession, but just a serious hobby. She’s also working on an advanced degree in the field of education.

I want to share a few of these photographs for your enjoyment. That’s all. You don’t know these former school chums of mine, but I’m betting you’ll still feel a bit of the emotion I felt when I looked at these and others.

Sometimes a photograph can be more than a casual snapshot. We, who too often pull out our iPhones or mini-cameras to casually take little reminders of moments, should remember and appreciate the remarkable power of extraordinary photography – and how it goes far beyond film or video in capturing the power of its subject. Go, for instance, to the web site of the Richard Avedon Foundation and look there at the extraordinary work of one of the masters.

For now, however, enjoy these works of my daughter.

  

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America, Listen Up!

Did you hear what Ben Bernanke, the chairman of the Federal Reserve, said last week – said directly to Congress, by the way? If you didn’t, that’s too bad! That Congress refuses to listen to him is a disaster?
by Charlie Leck

Speaker of the House of Representatives, John Boehner, may just not understand plain English (emphasis on the word plain)!

This is what Ben Bernanke, chair of the Federal Reserve, tried to make Congress hear: Congress itself is the biggest hindrance to full economic growth in this country. It’s refusal to raise the debt ceiling is extremely serious and dangerous. Spending by government is not the problem. The problem is not spending! The government’s new austerity programs are not necessary and do damage to middle class America.

Mr. Bernanke thinks Congress’ tight-fisted fiscal policy will “restrain economic growth!” He also said that the foolish debate over the debt ceiling “will evolve in a way that could hamper the recovery.”

Right after not-hearing Mr. Bernanke, Speaker Boehner began campaigning for more spending cuts, threatening Democrats to send the country into default if he didn’t get those cuts.

America is in a really screwed up situation right now and Mr. Boehner and hard-right-leaning Republicans don’t seem to care. They’d rather win their political points than help the nation. This is the strange situation America is in today.

Listen, friends! The unvarnished truth is this. The Republican Party (because of its radical wing) is doing great damage to the American economy. They refuse to review and reconsider their stated principles – even though they are dead wrong on the issues surrounding the economy.

The Republicans are prepared to send America into one more financial crash and they don’t give a damn.

America, here’s what’s happening in your Congress. Republicans are refusing to govern! They are just flat-out refusing to govern. It’s a game of brinksmanship to them and it will be harmful to our nation. And, Republicans don’t give a flip!

Thousands of Republicans Must Stand Up
Thousands and thousands and thousands of Republicans must stand up and scream at Speaker Boehner to knock it off. Get on with fixing America’s economy and that means approving a new debt ceiling and spending money on needed fixes across the nation.

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MOMA

This was my first visit to MOMA (The Museum of Modern Art in New York City) and I was quite amazed.
by Charlie Leck

We have wonderful art museums here in the Twin Cities and we often begin thinking that they are probably among the best in the nation. On my recent little trip to New York City and New Jersey, we spent a couple of hours in the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) in Manhattan. It’s size and the quality of the art it displays is simply remarkable. This is among the greatest art museums in the world. A couple of hours there gets you into and somewhat through one exhibit.

We spent the bulk of our time looking at the Le Corbusier exhibit – the architectural art and genius of Charles Édouard Jeanneret. He died in 1965, after a remarkable artistic career as an architect and designer of buildings and communities. The display is on loan to MOMA from the Foundation Le Corbusier of Paris.

There are architects, I guess, and then there are the remarkable architects. Jeanneret was both architect and artist. One can add that he was an urban designer who was deeply concerned about cities and how they sprawl – and how they get away from planners and often end up being places of great discomfort for people rather than communities of ease and joy. Jeanneret lobbied for more careful planning that would enable cities to be sustainable.

What an exhibit! It went on and on and on. One could devote enormous amounts of time to studying this vast exhibit alone. I envy New Yorkers who have MOMA to visit regularly. I can’t imagine it has any equal anywhere in the world among modern art museums.

You can visit the MOMA web site here!

You can visit the Le Corbusier Foundation here!

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Obama Seen as Wimp

A wise president has stepped back to examine our military involvement in countless situations since he took office. I think he has been asking the correct questions about our involvement in some rather insane situations!”
by Charlie Leck

Steve Chapman, a columnist for the Chicago Tribune, seems to have said it best this week about President Obama: “His foreign policy appears to reflect an understanding of our limitations.”

Now many who would be President don’t believe our nation has limitations. They think America is able to do whatever it wants and whenever it wants regardless of the cost in money or human life. It just isn’t so.

It’s refreshing to have a President who says no to our involvement in every possible situation of conflict around the world. Chapman says it this way…

“Obama is getting slammed for a lack of aggressiveness by crusading internationalists in both parties – who brought us the Iraq war and the Afghan quagmire. If they think he’s wrong, he must be doing something right.”

“You betcha,” as we say here in Minnesota. That’s why we voted for him. We’ve had enough already with presidents who go storming off to war at every possible opportunity. It pleases and supports the military/industrial complex, but it does little, if anything, for any of the rest of us.

A few of my former high school classmates, to whom I listened in during some of their conversations last week, hardly agree. They called Obama a “chicken-shit” and sometimes things even worse. It’s easy for old men to call for wars that young men must fight. It is difficult, as president, to say no to many such situations; yet, more times than not, that’s what needs to be said. One needs only to look at the long, long lines of injured young men and women returning home from battle to understand what the president is feeling. It is not cowardice. It is courage and wisdom.

Too little do we raise the simple, yet substantive questions: “Why there? Why now?”

We need no more decade-long, useless and unproductive wars that end without definition.

As Chapman says in his column: “If Obama is a wimp, hail to the wimp!”

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Going Home Again

     Lois Flatt and Dick Brown (Roxbury H.S., class of 1958)

     cut a rug at our 2013 reunion.

Can one go home again? Thomas Wolfe says “no” in the title of his 1940 novel, You Can’t Go Home Again. As for me, I’m not so sure.
by Charlie Leck

If I had to put a chapter title on the last 5 days of my life it would be: Going Home Again!

It started with a Thursday night performance of A Trip to Bountiful* at the Stephen Sondheim Theater in Manhattan that starred Cicely Tyson. I don’t mean this to be a review, but I give the play lots of stars and Ms. Tyson all the acclaim I can muster.

Tyson was marvelous – marvelous! She received a standing ovation during the curtain call. The Horton Foote play is quite extraordinary. It appears to be one of those “you can’t go home again” stories that disproves the thesis. Bountiful is our history, our homes, our memories (whether distorted or enlarged or not). Vanessa Williams co-starred and she was also splendid.

I was happy that Jeremy Cohen (of the Minneapolis Playwright Center) had recommended we see the play. Anne, my wife, and I saw it with our youngest child and her boyfriend. After the play, we heard a sad tale from that boyfriend about his grandma. The poor woman, sinking into dementia, had tried to return from her new home in the Bronx, where she lives with one of her daughters, to her former apartment that she obviously dearly missed. In the process, she got lost and confused and ended up in a hospital. The former apartment has long since been rented to someone else. It’s a complicated story and too personal for a blog, but our hearts bled for the poor young man and his grandma – and for his mother as well.

All of this happened while I was on a trip home again to my 55th high school class reunion – and to a little tour for my wife of the town in which I grew up and of the little store that my dad ran for that part of his life in which I played a role. The living area above the store was our home and I always feel strange yearnings and memories every time I see it. It (the store, the town, the school) is not me anymore, however, and I find no strength from visiting there. It does bring back a flood of memories, however, and I shared many of them with my dear, patient wife. She listened again to all tales I've previously told her. I’ve also written about so many of them here on this blog in the past.

I loved seeing so many of my old classmates even though I approached the gathering with both a degree of excitement and quite nervously. There were some old mates who could not be there and still others who have gone to the stars, to dwell in eternity, who I would also have dearly loved to see and with whom I would have loved to talk.

It was a wonderful time. Geez, I’m here to tell you, when I held and hugged and kissed a few of them, it was like it had been only a brief moment since we last touched and talked and laughed. I was stunned how, when I got focused, these school chums looked just as they should have looked and, oh, how I remembered their young faces as well.

I forgot how wonderful my high school class was – how many caring and deeply loving classmates I had at that high school in New Jersey.

I feel lonely this morning, thinking and writing about them. How much I would have liked our conversations to go on and on for a much longer time.

Roxbury High School, Succasunna, New Jersey
It was a wonderful place. I had some incredible teachers there who changed my life. I told one of my classmates that and he looked at me doubtfully. “Name two,” he said in a rather challenging way, testing me!

“Easy,” was my reply. “Mae Call is one. She taught English and drama and speech and debate. She taught me to read intelligently and virtually made me whatever I’ve become. Jean Haven is another. She taught me how to study and to love history and I carry a piece of her in my life even today. Esther Guerin is yet another. She didn’t give up on me even when I gave up on myself. She was so patient and she worked so hard to prove to me I could learn things I’d given up on.”

I could see in his eyes that I’d met his challenge. He nodded approvingly and reviewed a couple of his favorite teachers for me. In fact, I could have named several other teachers who also made a significant difference in my life.

Among the attendees were a couple of the first girls I ever loved. I never had the courage to date either of them or even to approach them about a date (they probably would have turned me down); but here, at this comfortable and friendly reunion, they were wonderfully affectionate and caring and, perhaps, even loving.

I’d gone successfully home and it was a wonderful trip. And now, here, in this home that is everything in the world to me – my castle on a hill, from which I rule over my quiet, gentle kingdom – I think of all those lovely and kind kids and feel renewed, young and hopeful inside. It was a wonderful trip, but I’m glad to be back here where I belong.

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*A Trip to Bountiful by Horton Foote, 18 July 2013, at the Stephen Sondheim Theatre (West 43rd Street, Times Square). The play starred Cicely Tyson, Cuba Gooding Jr., and Vanessa Williams, with Tom Wopat and Adepero Oduye. It was directed by Michael Wilson. Miss Tyson won a 2013 Tony Award for her performance in this play. She also won a Drama Desk Award and the Outer Critic Circle Award.

Ms. Tyson has talked about a permanent retirement when this production closes.

     Nancy Wallace and Charlie Apostolic (Roxbury H.S., class of 1958)

     pose for me and my camera. I was always insanely nuts about Nancy
     but never had the courage or nerve to ask her out. Charlie I admired
     so very much and wish we had been better friends. I've tried to make
     up for it by getting to know him better now. We were in a couple of
     high school plays together and members of the drama club.

     Larry Morgan and Ronny Post (Roxbury H.S., class of 1958)

     pose for me and my camera. Ronny played on our high school
     baseball team with me and was a helluva player. We also played
     some semi-pro baseball together. Larry was a water guy and nuts
     about the big, beautiful lake near our school.

     Marion Smith and John Hopper (Roxbury H.S., class of 1958)

     were class leaders and dated in high school. They remain
     dear friends to each other and to many of their classmates.
     Marion lives in Georgia now and John in California.

     Valerie Chew was a beauty then and remains one now.

     Gene Kline has that same remarkable and devilish smile

     he had in high school. "A fun loving guy," our '58 yearbook
     said of him... "likes to chase girls!" Nothing has changed.

     At an afternoon picnic on July 20, some of those attending
     the reunion gathered along Horseshoe Lake (only 3 or 4
     miles from the old high school).

     That's me on the right, with my arm around Judy O'Brien, with

     whom I attended school from kindergarten through high school.
     With us is Paula, Gretchen and Julia.

     And that is I, on our way to the airport, in Chester and in front
     what was the old general store my father ran when I was but a
     wee boy.

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Your Arts Desire in Minnetonka or Look Local!

Don’t you enjoy doing business with local stores and vendors? It’s one of the main reasons we’re in the farmers market business (at least my wife is). I go out of my way to choose a local shop before descending on the Best Buy Company or Target Stores or Staples. I find I get better and more personal service and I generally become quite good friends with the owners.
by Charlie Leck

If I want to buy simple light bulbs or some kind of extension cord – a small lamp or lighting fixture –some outdoor lighting decorations – I don’t go running to a big electrical store or the Home Depots or Menards of the world. In this case I go to the wonderful little store in Hopkins called Electric Craftsman. The store is at 1424 Main Street in Hopkins. They’ve been giving us great service – repairing lamps, providing lamp shades and specialty light bulbs – for years.

I hope you’ll all think local before getting on line. It seems that Amazon owns tons of on-line shopping sites these days. They’ve become one of the biggest companies in the nation. Though it seems easy to shop that way, there are much more enjoyable experiences waiting for you in the small, privately owned shops in or near your own home town. And, you’ll be helping out local folks who are trying to run successful businesses. When you buy clothing, why go through Amazon or the big department store chains. There are several wonderful and local clothing retailers near my home and probably yours too.

On-line shopping puts zero into your local economy!
A hundred bucks spent in a locally owned and independent business puts about $68 into the local economy (in taxes, payroll and miscellaneous spending). Spend the same on-line and you put zero into your community.

Your Arts Desire
One of my favorite places to do my Christmas shopping is at a little art store and framing shop in Minnetonka, Your Arts Desire. It’s owned by Ken Herren and his wife, Melissa Williamson-Herren. I’ve been doing business with them for a terribly long time. How long? Oh, about 30 years or so. I keep going back because they’re so damned nice and because they always do this “satisfaction guaranteed” thing on their framing – or they’ll “redo” until you’re pleased. Amazingly, I’ve never once asked for anything to be redone. As I write this blog, I can let my eyes roam around my study and see dozens of pieces of art and photographs that they’ve framed so beautifully for me.

At Christmas time, Melissa wanders around the shop with me telling me about some of the wonderful, small pieces of art, art jewelry and useful pottery that they sell for local artists. The price is a bit more than I’d spend in a shop at the mall, but I know I’m supporting a local retail business and local artists when I buy from Milissa and Ken. And, the recipients of these gifts always seem pleased with what they receive.

Right now I’ve begun giving thought to restoring the patina on a bronze sculpture I have outside, along the driveway that approaches our house. It was done by the Minnesota sculptor, Paul Granlund. Anne gave it to me for my 40th birthday – a long, long time ago. It’s

called “Reflection” and I just adore her and often, in the autumn or winter, I’ll stop by to see her and talk to her a bit. Anyway, I gave Ken a call at Your Arts Desire yesterday and asked about restorers. He let me know that he’d be happy to help me find someone and promised to call around for me. I can depend on Ken and I’ll know he’ll get back to me. That comes from years of doing business with him.

On the web site of Your Arts Desire, I saw that they have a little blog, so I read through some of the postings. If you’re interested in getting to know them (Ken and Melissa), taking a look at their blog would be a good way to do it. You must scroll down a little ways on their page to find their most recent postings. From the top it looks as if they haven’t written anything in awhile. Not true. Melissa posts quite regularly and it’s interesting stuff. Nevertheless, I’m going to encourage Melissa to write more often, to reorganize that page, and to give some time to introducing us to some of the artists they represent.

Ken himself is quite an accomplished artist and it is my goal to own and hang something of his here in my home someday.

Well, it’s one small example of making sure you do business locally. Not only am I helping out a small, small business, but I’m making friends at the same time. One of these days I’ll even convince them to stop calling me “Mr. Leck.”

CSA, for instance!
We really recommend that you all think about becoming CSA members, wherever you live. That’s Community Supported Agriculture. I’ll bet there are plenty of them in your community, wherever you live, and you’ll discover wonderful features and benefits by doing business with them. We’re members of a couple of them and get fresh lettuces and a host of wonderful seasonal vegetables each and every week. Here’s a list of CSA vendors in Minnesota. You should be able to find a list for your part of the nation too.

The 3/50 Project
You should also take a look at the 3/50 Project that Ken and Melissa explain on their web site. The project, as I’ve linked to it here, leads you a free app, Look Local, that you can put on your smart phone. The app will help you find local places to shop near you. It’s an app that “helps you locate fabulous ‘mom and pop’ businesses you’ll love and won’t want to miss whether at home or on the road!” Doesn’t that sound great?

When you think of making a purchase, Look Local! You’ll be helping out a neighbor.

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Twins Fans, Cheer Up!

All you Twins fans who are feeling sorry for yourselves, cheer up! Just think, you could live in Chicago and have the White Sox and Cubs as your home teams.
by Charlie Leck

The Twins seem almost hopeless, though no real baseball fan ever completely gives up hope. I remember, while growing up near the New York City metropolitan area, how the Brooklyn Dodgers (we called ‘em the Bums) always left their fans disappointed and glum. The expression around Brooklyn was always: “Wait ‘til next year!” I also remember the 1951 New York Giants who were trailing Brooklyn by 13 games in August of that season. On the last day of the season they pulled into a tie with them and then won the third game of a three game playoff (remember the incredible 9th inning homer by Bobby Thompson?).

How I remember the ecstatic joy we had up here in Twinsland in ’86. The Twins won their first World Series, beating the St. Louis Cardinals in seven games. They did the same thing to the Atlanta Braves in ’91. Boy, “those were the days my friend. We thought they’d never end.”

Now, at Major League Baseball’s all-star break, the Twins are hopelessly mired near the bottom of the standings, 12 games out of first-place. Even Kansas City is ahead of us in the standings. I think we’ve got another stinkin’ year to finish up here, but “wait ‘til next year!”

Here’s a bright spot!
Just think, we could be Chicago baseball fans. They’ve got two Major League teams – one in each of the leagues. The Chicago White Sox are trailing the Twins and are 14 games out of first place. Over in the National League, the Cubs (perennially terrible) are already 15 games back (but 4 games ahead of the lowly Milwaukee Brewers).

Mind you, how would it be to be pulling for one of those Chicago teams or Milwaukee?

Here’s how to make the year interesting!
Tell you what, Twins fans, just make the remainder of this year a race against the Chicago White Sox. That’s all that counts. Beat those stickin, no-good, miserable White Sox. That’s the whole deal – the entire goal! Keep winning more than the White Sox. Do that and it will make going to our beautiful ball park, Target Field, worthwhile. Watch the newspapers each day to see how the Sox did! Check the standings! Place some bets with your Chicago friends.

And this is the fun part!
Take a look at the schedule. We’ve a boat load of games (10) left with the White Sox. With my attitude in mind, those could really be fun and exciting games – especially if you have friends or family in Chicago. You can establish a kind of hate match with them and promise to do their fall-yard clean up if your team loses the final ten game series (or vice versa).

Friday                August 9         Twins at White Sox
Saturday           August 10        Twins at White Sox
Sunday              August 11         Twins at White Sox

Thursday          August 15         White Sox at Twins
Friday                August 16         White Sox at Twins
Saturday           August 17          White Sox at Twins
Sunday              August 18          White Sox at Twins

Monday             Sept 16              Twins at White Sox
Tuesday            Sept 17               Twins at White Sox
Wed                   Sept 18               Twins at White Sox

Plan an out of town trip to Chicago for one of the two series. The Sox stink so bad that tickets will be easy to come by. And, in that September series in Chicago you just might get a chance to see the Twins’ pheeenom and future hope, Byron Buxton, play; for I think the Twins are just going to be forced to call this guy up from the minors by fan demand.

The question is whether I’ll be able to get a room with family or friends down there after the nasty things I’ve written about their ball team.

Let me tell you, if you love baseball, you’ve got to do something to make the season a little bit interesting – even if it’s scorching family!

I can’t wait for the All Star game to get out of the way so the real Twins’ season can get started.

“Go Twins! Beat dem Sox!”

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Not Guilty!

I tell myself to remember that George Zimmerman was not found innocent; rather, he was found not guilty. The prosecution was unable to prove guilt, leaving the jury no choice!
by Charlie Leck

“George Zimmerman, the neighborhood watch volunteer who fatally shot Trayvon Martin, an unarmed black teenager, igniting a national debate on racial profiling and civil rights, was found not guilty late Saturday night of second-degree murder. He was also acquitted of manslaughter, a lesser charge.” [New York Times, 14 July 2013… there is some extraordinary photography at the NY Times site to which I’ve linked!]

The prosecution was unable to prove what really happened on that dark night when George Zimmerman followed Trayvon Martin. We, on the other hand, will forever know that the young man would not have lost his life had Zimmerman not profiled and followed him.

I initially thought the prosecution team made a very poor effort. I’ve come to understand that it was difficult to prove what happened out there in the dark. It is something that only George Zimmerman really knows. I will forever know this, however: the dumb son-of-a-bitch should not have followed the kid; rather he should have done as he was told by the police (that is, to stay away, not follow and wait for the police to arrive).

I am depressed about this verdict, but I saw it coming and it may have been correct. Think about this! What was wrong with the image of that defense attorney sitting over a light-weight dummy, pounding the back of his head into the floor again and again with such ease? I’ll tell you what: George Zimmerman is a big, heavyweight and not a light-as-air little dummy. The prosecution should have pointed that out and made the jury wonder about how difficult that would have been with Mr. Zimmerman himself.

It seems so wrong that Trayvon Martin should have lost his life at the hands of this strange, phobic man.

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Need Conceal & Carry Law for Tampons

Some things can only happen in Texas (one of my least favorite states – a state I probably would never have visited if my sister had not lived there for so many years). Confiscating tampons is one of those things.
by Charlie Leck

Texans have often talked about seceding from the Union. Most of the time, in response, I’ve raised a glass toward the state and sung out loud, “So long, it’s been good to know you!”

One of my favorite columnists – whose columns I rarely miss – is the Washington Post’s Alexandra Petri. She is a satirist with an immense sense of humor. She’s also a marvelous writer. Her column Friday (12 July 2013) was titled: Security at Texas legislature confiscated tampons, let guns go! (The exclamation mark is mine. I thought it was needed.)

Here’s one paragraph from the four paragraph column…

“Among the latest updates from the Unwanted Texas Efforts To Pass Stringent Anti-Abortion Legislation came the gem that the state senate security was confiscating tampons from spectators entering the gallery to watch debate on HB2. Guns, of course, were still allowed in the gallery for those with concealed carry licenses. The difference between guns and tampons is that if you walk into a crowded locker room waving one of them aloft, every man there will run away screaming in fear for his life, and if you walk into that same locker room with the other one, everyone will just shrug and say, 'Oh, hi, Gilbert Arenas.’”

Believe me, you can read the entire column in a minute, so (this time) take my advice and have yourself a chuckle. You might also get hooked on Ms. Petri’s work.

As for the Texas state legislature, they’ve gone and passed a skunky, stupid anti-abortion bill. They are still cave men down there. One of those cave men, Texas Governor Rick Perry, has promised he’ll sign the bill.

Geez, I hope the Cowboys finish last in their division in the NFL this coming season!

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Tamara de Lempicka

It is a remarkable experience to encounter someone new, fresh, vigorous, authentic and enchanting.
by Charlie Leck

I did not know of her. She was a no-one in my mind and life.

I stepped into a little, freshly painted room yesterday (the feint aromas still hovered here and there and caused a scratching in my throat). I saw her standing there. She looked certain about herself, but something shouted at me that she was also frightened that I might not recognize her remarkable beauty. There seemed something so dreadfully insane about the look in her beautiful, sparkling eyes. She had come there just to meet me – just to change my life completely.

Like a star-struck, old farmer who has come in off the plain, specks of hayseed still clinging to this spot and that in his gray hair, I came to a sudden halt and stood, frozen, looking at her.

Her frenzied eyes seemed to challenge me, daring me to dismiss her lightly.

Someone off to the side – it was a woman’s voice – introduced me to her.

“Charles, this is Tamara.”

I stood looking at the woman, knowing my life, in that instant, had changed – progressed, deepened, broadened – and become complicated.

“Tamara de Lempicka,” the same voice said again, very softly – in nearly a whisper.

I tried to speak, but my lips and throat seemed frozen and unable to do what I willed. I kept my eyes fixed on hers and she continued to stare into me – not at me, but deeply into my secretive soul.

“You do not know of me?”

The question came as a whisper, barely audible. Still unable to speak, I shook my head very, very slightly. I knew nothing of her! No one else in the room took notice of my ignorance. She did.

“You are something of an ill-bred bore, then?” It was a question. Clearly! She was challenging me to shake my fear of her and to speak – to say something or anything – to defend myself. I felt a quivering of my jaw and my lips trembled.

“I do not know of you,” I stammered, “but, you are beautiful – stunning –  even overwhelming!”

She smiled, but said nothing. She extended her arm and hand. Her palm was downward and her fingertips curled slightly. She was inviting me to lightly take her fingers into my own and to bend, to kiss her soft, white, remarkable hand.

I had never done such a thing. Uncertain, I took her steady, refined fingers into my own and bent. I softly touched my lips to her knuckles. I wondered if it had been proper or at all graceful. I rose and looked into her face and she was smiling in humor.

It had been awkward – not graceful or suitable. Her eyes told me everything. She recognized that I was a dolt and a dunderhead. It humored her. Those eyes were laughing with a fierce joyousness. My face reddened. She flicked her head sideward only very slightly, as if to say, “Oh, it is nothing!”

“Come, sit with me,” she said aloud, “and let us listen to this music together.”

My feet would barely move as she turned and moved into an aisle, toward two empty seats. I commanded them to go, to loosen their grip on the floor beneath me. They obeyed and moved along gracelessly behind the remarkable woman. I observed her magnificent, green dress carefully. It was fitted perfectly to her body. Nothing was wasted; nor did anything need escape. She slid into the chair so gracefully and looked up at me, apparently happy that I had begun to control my frozen limbs. My head was spinning and my heart quivered. She patted the chair next to her. I was pleased that I could sit down.

“There now,” she said, “this should be very nice. You may now relax and be comfortable. You needn’t be so afraid of me. I will not cause you permanent pain.”

So it went on this past Wednesday, when I encountered Tarmara de Lempicka for the first time. She had been born in 1898 in Warsaw, the same year that my father came into the world. She married Tadeusz Lempicki (Tad, as she called him) in 1914, at the all too young age of 16. They married in the Chapel of the Knights in Petrograd and shortly after they moved to Paris, where Tamara began to study art and painting under Andre Lhote. Tad could not find work, but Tamara imagined that she could make a living with her painting. She sold a few things and it encouraged her. Soon, a number of galleries began showing her work and she began to live in the kind of luxury she knew as a child. She traveled widely and her fame spread as she went. She took up with important lovers. She did paintings of her daughter, Kizette, and they become internationally famous. In 1928, she and Tadeusz divorced. Her work continued to sell, even through the years of the great depression. Tamara, in love this time, married the Hungarian, Baron Kuffner, in 1933. It was at the time the Nazis were gaining strength in Europe and she sensed – nearly scented – the troubles ahead.

She is Jewish. She fled, with Kuffner, to America in 1939. They made Beverly Hills their home. The Reinhart Gallery in Los Angeles exhibited her work. In the early 40s, other American galleries began to show her paintings. Kizette joined her mother and step-father in America and young woman married the Texas geologist, Harold Foxhall.

Tamara and Baron Kuffner moved to New York City in 1943 – as the war raged on in Europe.

Kuffner died in 1962 and Tamara moved to Houston to be near her daughter.

In 1972, in Paris, at the magnificent Gallerie du Luxembourg, Alain Blondel organized a retrospective exhibit of Tamara’s work.

In 1974, age 75, Tamara moved to Cuernavaca, in Mexico. In 1979, Kizette, widowed, followed her mother there so that she might care for the aged woman.

Tamara died in her sleep on a March night in 1980. Her ashes are scattered on the Mount Popocatépetl volcanic crater (made famous by Malcolm Lowry’s extraordinary novel, Under the Volcano).

     Popocatépetl     (I was unable to established photo credits.)

     Popocatépetl is southeast of Mexico City, located in the
     states of Puebla, Mexico and Morelos. The volcano is
     over 17,000 feet tall.

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It was Carson Kreitzer, the American playwright, who introduced us. We were at the remarkable Minneapolis Playwright Center.  I was charmed out of my mind and I was left nearly breathless by the beauty of the woman and the expanse of her work. I fell hard for Lempicka – hard as hell! 

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