Booked to go!

Books to go--Hillerman novels in front

How do you get rid of books? Actually you don't, because once read they're a part of you. But they do tend to accumulate.

Cleaning out shelves

I've tried a book sale, and that didn't work, other than just getting exercise carrying them out of the garage and back in at the end of the day. And yo can't just throw them away.
But I saw my opportunity as daughter Dallas and son-in-law Todd Bell want to open a bookstore in Canyon, Texas, and they're visiting garage sales and more, buying what they can. 
With her visit here this weekend, we started going through our shelves, and the ones under the bed, and in stacks on tables, and those in containers out in the garage, plus some from work. Some I'd collected and couldn't remember, or had never read, and they certainly went. 

So we started pulling them out, opening boxes, piling them up in various places in the house and garage to transfer  to her car. We filled her trunk and part of the back seat.
I think we parted with about 150 of them. Some you can't part with, yet--Heart of Darkness, Whitman, Blue Highways, A Moveable Feast, The Art Spirit, books given by my kids for Christmas, and so on. I still have my John McPhee and Ed Abbey and Ernie Pyle and Grizzly collections, my New Mexico and Larry McMurtry and poetry shelves, along with  my signed first editions. And of course my Dad's and my art books. Susan kept cookbooks and more.

From work

You go though the books, looking at the signed inscriptions on many, and the dates when I bought them. Lots of memories.  You start going through those, and you remember each one, and put a few aside to read again.
But I did give away my Tony Hillerman novels (except the first one, signed by him). I had many antique newspaper books, some writing books,  some 1920s novels, and gobs more, including National Geographic books.

Many of the recently bought and read books were easy to let go of. And I figured if many had been out in the garage for a while, they needed to go too--except for those special ones I don't have shelves for here.
What is amazing is I'm not sure you can tell we parted with any at all.

Teaching geography, and Africa

Did you ever have to take blank map quizzes when in school? I did, including filling in countries and capitals, and states and capitals--in junior high.
That gave me a sense of where I was in the world, and also probably spurred my wanderlust. That, along with the fact that Dad always had maps pinned to the walls and we subscribed to the National Geographic.
When I started teaching International Media a few years ago, I was astounded at the lack world knowledge of my upper level college students. Especially after one student identified England as Germany. So I instituted blank map quizzes--continent by continent and regions. No, they don't have to know all of the countries, but we discuss those that they should know, based on current events, news, and media significance. 
I know, I know, that is old-fashioned rote memory. There is still room for it in "modern" politically correct, buzz-word, acronym dominated trendy education. I'm a geezer who tries to stay current with technology and trends, and pretty much a non-traditional teacher. But there still needs to be some basic memorized stuff.
So far, they've done well this semester, and we've covered the Mideast,  South America, SE Asia, Asia and Europe. Coming up is Africa, and I'm trying to instill in them the size of Africa as well. You can follow all of this on the class blog, Clarkinternational.
And here's the study guide on the blog today. Did you realize the Sahara is bigger than the U.S?

Africa is really, really big

The Sahara is bigger than the U.S.

'I've never had a geography course'

"I've never had a geography course."
So said a senior in my International Media class this week, after I gave them a blank map quiz on Asia, and posted another of Southeast Asia for next week...mistakenly putting it on this blog, instead of the class blog, ClarkInternational.
We started with the Mideast, then South America, Europe and then to Asia. Next on tap will be Africa.
One student said he'd last had geography in eighth grade. I don't understand. I'll admit, with the breakup of the Soviet union and independence of many African Nations, I don't know all the countries, but I sure know most of them, and especially all those who are in the news.
It tells me something about our education and politics that students no longer know basic geography--we are becoming more isolated  and provincial as we are being more affected by the rest of the world.
I'll admit, filling in a map doesn't make you less provincial and ethnocentric. Only travel will do that, but still, howcab to function in this world without some grasp of "Where"?

"How can you function in this world without some grasp of 'Where'?"

One of the students quipped, asking for a map of the United States. I shot back, "Ok, and also name all the capitals." They balked.
I learned all that stuff in seventh or eighth grade when it mattered a whole less than it does now. Come to think of it, I think I'll give the students a blank map of the U.S., without state borders, and make them draw them, label them and name the capitals.
I'll admit, I also grew up in a home with National Geographic maps on the walls, and have been fascinated with maps ever since. They hint of places I can only dream of, of places I want to go, of faraway places and peoples and stories.
You don't get that perspective of a big world with a GPS system or a computer...especially if you don't know where countries are in relation to each other.
I know, I'm a dinosaur, and the students probably get amused and talk about me, when I start telling them about why Korea split, or Vietnam and a brick from the Hanoi Hilton that is in Oklahoma City (few know what the Hanoi Hilton was). But that is precisely why I incorporate these map quizzes in my International Media class. Thus the map of Southeast Asia.

Down a Dark River with TR--September's Pages

Enthralled by Ken Burns' documentary on the Roosevelts, learning so much history I'd never known, we went to the bookstore to find more stories. In the meantime, my friend Joyce Carney, publisher of the Eakly, Oklahoma, Country Connection, recommended a book about TR's 1914 exploratory trip down an unexplored Brazilian river, a tributary of the Amazon.
It's "The River of Doubt--Theodore Roosevelt's Darkest Journey,"(2006) by Candice Millard, a former editor and writer for National Geographic.  I couldn't pass it up, and while Joyce said the book would tire you out, I found it a fascinating narrative and compelling story, my 13th book of the year.

In addition to the story about Roosevelt, Millard packs the book with information about the Amazon jungle, including the origin of the name "Amazon." In addition, there's much about the animal and plant life of the area, including the evolution of trees, insects, fish and more. Did you know that ants make up about 10 percent of the entire Amazon biomass? That's a lot of insects.
The trip almost killed Roosevelt--more than once, and in fact may have weakened him, I think,  so much that it led to his early death. He lost more than 50 pounds on the trip--one fourth of his weight.

Roosevelt writing

I learned more about TR's courage. He was so ill from a wound, infection, malaria and fever that he wanted to be left behind so the rest of the expedition could get out alive. He carried a vial of morphine so strong it would kill him if he took it.  Only the determination of his son Kermit saved him.  And through it all, Roosevelt would sit down most nights, covered with netting and gloves to protect against insects, to write for articles in Scribners.
Everything went wrong on the trip--inadequate and wrong supplies, having to travel in dugouts rather than boats, innumerable rapids, attacks by Indians, drowning,  murder, and near starvation. Of the 19 men on the expedition, only 16 returned. 
The river was later name El Rio Roosevelt.

So ill he couldn't sit up in the dugout, TR suffered under a makeshift tent, weeks from rescue. From caption in the book.

A hemorrhoid day

Got your attention, didn't I?
'Twas a day of moving furniture, and working in the garage, where the Geographics are stored. Susan's cedar chest is out there, and I'd forgotten what was in it. Guess? Geographics. Plus others in plastic tubs that I shouldn't be moving, including one that must have weighed --I'm afraid to guess. I can already feel it in my back and calves, lifting it from the concrete floor to the top of this old chest of drawers. Which means I'll feel it elsewhere in a day or two. At least it proves my heart is healthy for an old fart.

I hauled this long chest of drawers out to garage, after moving stacks of cardboard boxes cluttered along the wall to the floor to make room for it. Why? We bought a day bed for the office (bedroom #2) where Susan's computer sits on a fancy desk that I'm typing on at the moment. To get that in place, we needed to move her grandmother's couch into our bedroom. To do that, I had to lift the heavy analog TV to the floor and move the chest of drawers into the garage. The day bed will be nice, and not expensive, except for my muscles and hemorrhoids. Susan wanted me to get help to move the furniture. Come on, I said, it's not heavy. No, its not. But I'm not too smart either. The TV and Geographics I had to move several times were.

At any rate-or as my uncle Champ used to say, "Anyway,"--I got it done. It included some interesting variations on profanity as I moved the couch through two doorways and a narrow hall. here were the Geographics, which I've written about recently. Looking at all "those nice bright covers," how can I throw them away? I can't.  So they all went back in various containers, up against the wall of the garage.  And the one huge plastic tub. Just more neatly--along with camping gear, paintings, etc. I ended up putting all my stored Harry Potter books, lots of John McPhee (my favorite author other than Conrad and Whitman), into the drawers of the chest.  I brought a bunch of poetry books inside. Poetry deserves a special place in my house. I'll tell you about those books later. I also have more art hanging on the walls of the garage than any garage in America. Why? No place to put the damned stuff, any more than the Geographics. More on that, later too.

Why are you reading this stuff? Don't we all have common emotions and adventures--the more we have in common the closer we are--sometimes in ways we don't even realize until we lose, or almost lose them? And then, there are the hemorrhoids. 

Geographic photographic autographic

That flag was the first color photograph to appear on the front page of the National Geographic, July 1959. That's a far cry from today's full front page color photos, but it shows the photographic influence the magazine had on the world of photojournalism.

I used to teach photography to university students, and I always told them not to buy photography books, just subscribe to the Geographic. It is a constant living textbook on excellence in photography.

In the 50 years since that photo, the magazine has evolved, including its use of photography. Eventually, there were full color photos spread all across the front pages, and the traditional oak leaves gradually disappeared, as did the word "Magazine."

Here's one from my collection. "Old Yeller" as insiders called it, still has the yellow border, but that and the same typography for the name is it.

The Geographic has always pioneered photography, and the ultimate dream job, it seems to me, would be to be a photographer on assignment for that magazine. In our teaching we constantly used Geographic programs and slide shows from their photographers to expose our students (pun intended) to great photography.

That love affair with photography started early with black and white. Then came a monumental step...color photography.

The first color photos in a magazine, ever, came in the summer of 1937 when developing (another pun) technology in both printing and film, made Kodak's Kodachrome film available for the magazine's photographers.

Geographic photographer W. Robert Moore took color photos in Austria, and the world was abuzz. Ironically, Kodak killed Kodachrome in 2009--thanks to digital technology, but one of the last rolls was taken by Geographic photographer Steve McCurry.  He's the one who took the haunting photo of the Afghan refugee that appeared on an 1985 cover. Great magazine, great film, great photographers, great journalism. Anyone telling the story of this magazine and film always quotes Paul Simon's "Kodachrome."



.

Digital changes the world, for sure, for good and not so good. Photos have always been "tampered" with through history in very country, by every government, perhaps by every photographer. The beauty of The Geographic was that we always thought it was as close to the real thing as possible. Photography means "light writing." But digital changed all the possibilities, and today you can't tell what's "real"  and what's been "photoshopped." Such an ugly verb.

The Geographic succumbed once, and never will again, after the international outcry when it "adjusted" the position of a the pyramids behind some camels to fit a vertical format in February, 1982.

It was as though God, Yahweh, Allah,  had sinned.

But digital has been good for the Geographic and her readers as well. The Magazine and Society have evolved into a news service, television shows, books, and more. And now you can buy them on the stands in the book store.

Yes, I sinned and quit subscribing. But I've found I can "appropriate" those I want at UCO, because they arrived  in the student newspaper (shhh).

And all those old issues I have out in my garage, I thought I'd cash in and sell them on ebay. They don't bring much. I thought about giving them to the Oklahoma City library sale, where they bring about $1 a year at the fairgrounds every year. But I'd have to bundle them and tote them down there. And that wouldn't be much of a tax write off. But I can't throw them away. They're part of me, as long as I don't have to lift them again and move them.

Yes, I still prefer to sit down with one and skim through them, marveling at the photography, especially as the Geographic has increasingly broadened the definitions of Geography into social and cultural issues.

I'm also thankful for the digital age that allows me to "Google" stuff for this scree on the magazine I love, so my facts are right. I still prefer the smell of fresh ink on paper when I open the pages. I'm a journalist, and ink is in my blood and soul.

But I don't have to store them any more, if I can get rid  of the ones in the garage. Why? Ten years ago, I bought a collection of them that my Dad would have drooled over. And it was cheap. On CDs, from the beginnings through the 90s.
My collection of the Geographic, plus its maps.

I just wish the poets Simon and Garfunkel had a song about "The Geographic." The Geographic is more than a magazine.  It lives. I emailed it my first post about it, and heard back, from a person, in less than a week. It was personal...not a form letter, and it will be shared with the magazine staff.

This article is longer than most in the magazine where I applied  once long ago, but didn't have enough education. But my "lack of education hasn't hurt me."  My education has been and is always enriched by "Old Yeller."

"You and your damned Geographics."

I cannot remember not having The Geographic to tease my interest and wonder.

I grew up in the home of a one-legged artist who didn't get to travel the world like his brothers did. But because he always subscribed to The Geographic, we traveled the world together and I knew early that I was just a small part of a much bigger, fascinating world.

I grew up in a house with lots of art supplies, paintings and drawings, the yellow trimmed magazine arriving every month full of photos of far away places, and maps of those places. We always had National Geographic maps pinned to the walls...of The United States, of the world and its many blank places and mysterious names and countries I could only imagine. I learned later that those same maps were crucial to Ike and the other Allies in "The War" as they were planning the invasion of Europe only months after I was born.

I've been a lover of maps ever since. I can sit down and unfold a road map, or a map of a country and take a trip, or plan one. I know how small I am, and have never lost a sense of wonder, thanks to The Geographic. I don't need or want GPS and a voice in a car telling me where to turn. People today who rely on that are terribly isolated, as though they are the center of the universe. The Geographic and its maps taught you differently, and instilled a desire to travel and discover.

My Dad collected Geographics and they piled up in the house. He even had a special ash bookcase built to house them, and I spent hours looking at them, and then rearranging them so they would be in order, month after month, year after year.

Oh yes, I enjoyed looking at the photos of the bare-breasted African and other dark-skinned women in the articles from around the world, but they didn't interest me as much as other kids because my Dad's paintings and drawings of nudes were common in my house. But just maybe that accounts for my intense interest in specific female anatomy today?

And I remember Dad starting to search for old Geographics, from its early years in the beginnings of the 20th Century. I remember jokes about collecting the magazine. Dad had one cartoon of a unclothed couple in bed, who obviously been causing quite a bit of vibration--I was too young to catch it at the time. It showed a hole in the ceiling and a bunch of Geographics in the middle of their bed.

"You and your damned Geographics," the wife was saying. Yes, the magazines ended up stored like that around the house, in the attic. I have boxes of them in the garage--but not in the attic.

Eventually, Dad managed to collect a complete set from 1920 on, which continued up until his death in December, 1973 in San Angelo, Texas. I had started collecting them when I got married in 1966. When Dad died, my brother and I went to San Angelo and rented a trailer and carried them back to his home in Lubbock. He has most of them...still stored in a garage or somewhere.

They were sacred...places to travel, to imagine. Looking at the old advertising was an adventure in American history alone. I can remember being shocked by our teachers bringing the Geographic to class, with examples cut out of them to show.

 For many years, it changed little , although we did. It was a constant, an icon, reliability, steadfastness.


It was a sin, a heresy, blasphemy, to cut up a National Geographic. They were part of who we were.

As with the Geographic, this story is not over.