Maybe movies were meant to be seen once

"Independence Day" can go from riveting to rather ridiculous once you've seen it about, oh, four times.
 
"Suspending reality" can be a very important part of appreciating a movie. Movies can be full of snags when it comes to plausibility issues.
Moviegoers are invited into a fantasy realm. The idea is to keep those plausibility issues suppressed in your mind. They must not get in the way of appreciating the story or the characters.
It can be harder today for movie viewers to deal with this. That's because of the opportunity to view a favorite movie multiple times - unlimited times in fact.
As with many aspects of our day-to-day living, this is a fairly new phenomenon. Changes in lifestyle wrought by technology are a regular theme in my writing here.
Today I'm reminding you that it wasn't that long ago, in the scheme of things, when watching a movie was pretty much a one-shot deal. You'd pay to see the movie at our local Morris (MN) Theater, appreciate it, hopefully not throw jawbreakers at the screen, and probably never see it again. It might turn up on network TV but only on rare occasions. Nothing like today, when our myriad channels would liberally replay various movies so you might actually watch it at 2 a.m.
In my youth the local television station, KCMT of Alexandria, would shut down not long after our bedtime. It would shut down with generic military footage (Air Force) and the standard "Star Spangled Banner" (John Philip Sousa style). I don't know why glorifying the military had to be part of ending our day. In my youth our military was getting entangled in the Viet Nam thicket of tragedy.
I could count on one hand the movies I saw more than three times. And hardly anyone would pay to see a movie more than once. I doubt many kids had the money to do a "Titanic" ritual and see a favorite repeatedly. But many people do see movies repeatedly today, thanks to the technology that first brought us VHS tapes, then DVDs and now "Movies on Demand."
Is this a godsend? As with anything we think we desire, when we get an abundance it might not seem as desirable anymore. It's a fundamental principle of marketing as author Harvey Mackay has pointed out so well.
As a kid I would have been disbelieving if someone had told me that someday there would be rows and rows of movies at our local Morris Public Library, movies that I could "check out" and watch at my leisure - once, twice, three times, whatever. It makes paying for a movie ticket somewhat questionable.
I have written excessive background here to what the main point of this post is: Watching a favorite movie repeatedly is not a good thing. The ability to suspend reality crumbles. Whatever emotional effect the movie originally had on you dissipates. Fundamentally, what happens (based on my experience) is that you begin to see the story as a movie in the most cynical sense, i.e. a crafted work of entertainment by professionals who are trying to manipulate you.
My first revelation about this came with the movie "The Natural." I never saw it at our Morris Theater. My first viewing may have actually been through television.
Who knows if it even played at our local big screen. Because our theater can only play one movie at a time, many get passed by. I remember waiting once for the movie "Mr. 3000," a fine baseball movie with Bernie Mac - RIP - and it never came here.
Eventually I told local Morris Theater promoter Warrenn Anderson (the attorney) about this shortcoming of our theater. This was when our old theater was being put on life support. It remains in that state today, operated as a co-op. I told Mr. Anderson that I often saw movies in Alexandria because I wanted to be assured that I could in fact see them, when there was no guarantee here.
"The Natural" was also a baseball movie. It's one of Robert Redford's better efforts. He was a wee too old to play the part at the time, and worked hard to fit a younger mold. But it wasn't as bad as Kevin Spacey playing a young Bobby Darin in "Across the Sea!"
The age issue was never a problem for me in "The Natural." But after I had seen the movie, say, four times, along with snippets on cable movie channels that I would catch incidentally (as we all do when surfing), the appeal of the movie diminished. I began just seeing a bunch of actors, movie sets and a script. And that's sad.
It was a moving experience to see "The Natural" the first time. It's been said that you judge a painting by the emotional reaction of the viewer. If that's true for movies too, "The Natural" ranks way up there. But I no longer have an emotional reaction to it. I found the same thing happening with "The Karate Kid."
And after seeing the Will Smith movie "Independence Day" several times, it went from being an interesting thriller to a joke. I mean, it was so full of implausible things. And it was so cynically crafted to pull at our patriotic heartstrings. My point is this: faults like these can be overlooked the first time you see a movie. Maybe the second.
Moviemakers know this and they work inside a "buffer zone." They probably lie awake at night worrying about whether their customers will in fact be able to suspend reality in order to like a movie.
In the early days of the HBO channel, comedian Rich Hall - where is he now? - had a feature called "sniglets," so popular a book sprouted. Sniglets are terms that aren't in the dictionary but should be.
Maybe there should be a "sniglet" for the phenomenon of de-appreciating a movie by seeing it too many times. Maybe the word is already in the dictionary: "bummer."
Seeing a movie too many times is "too much of a good thing." Seeing a particular movie too often dulls the senses. We might make an exception for "The Wizard of Oz."
-Brian Williams - Morris mn Minnesota - morris theater mn - bwilly73@yahoo.com

Boomers and their less structured youth

Sarah Palin made a playground analogy when commenting on President Obama's foreign policy negotiations Thursday. Obviously she criticized it as surely as the sun rises in the east. She's a Fox News barking dog. But the playground analogy reminded me of the old abandoned school playground here, of which I wrote a few days ago.
The issue in the previous post was: what will become of the old playground and the massive old school complex that overlooks that part of Morris?
Today the topic is plain old reminiscence along with cultural analysis.
The baby boom generation gave our public school a firm base of numbers. I dare say the people who worked in that system took those numbers for granted. They were comfortable in their positions and felt they could shoo away or intimidate critics. And the boomers' parents weren't likely to be critics anyway. They were very gentle and deferential. The term "helicopter parent" hadn't yet been coined.
Parents who had been through the Depression and World War Two weren't very excitable. Parents were more likely to work with teachers on discipline than to protect children from it. The whole system just rolled forward, and I suspect many education professionals felt it would always be like this. They probably looked forward to lower enrollment because they felt it would make their jobs easier and improve the educational environment.
But there has been unrelenting retrenchment. The young parents of today, many of the "helicopter" type, don't blandly accept what happens to their kids in school. They set rigorous standards (for the teachers) and demand answers.
As schools wrestle with the numbers issues, it is incredibly ironic to note all the advantages and programs that have been created for the young people of today, compared to when us boomers flooded that old playground. Many tiers of special education have sprouted. In an earlier time, kids who lagged behind might be branded as stupid but they largely forged ahead anyway. They made do with their limitations and their peers accepted them. Many kids with apparent special needs were "mainstreamed."
Another term is "social promotion" based on the idea that kids need to be kept with their age peers with whom they have bonded. Of course, once you graduate and enter real society, that peer network is gone.
Nowadays the "slow" kids get identified with "learning problems." Many of these kids who are assigned to specialists would have been considered quite normal when I was in school. By the same token, kids with behavior issues when I was in school had to try to just "go with the flow" as best they could. Their peers learned to deal with them and maybe even help them.
Behavior medications weren't handed out like candy as can be the case today, apparently. Those medications weren't available as a crutch for educators to just tranquilize problem kids.
As enrollment has seriously declined, we have this huge irony of resources available to kids that weren't dreamt of when us boomers romped on the playground. Girls sports is a huge one. So is the indoor ice arena. Then there's FFA. In God's name why didn't Morris have an FFA program back then?
We have a jaw-dropping concert hall. It was like pulling teeth to get the high school auditorium built back in the mid-1970s. The superintendent at that time, Fred Switzer, would later tell people "I almost lost my job over that."
What would have happened to him if he had tried to sell that concert hall? Tar and feathering?
Our new school complex is vast and excessive. How did we get here? How did we get sold on a new football field that is slowly being forgotten by the community? People are always groping for something new. A few years ago we got all the toys we could have wanted.
But the school of yesteryear had its charms. The kids were challenged to get along with each other and gained maturation, despite bumps in the road. Those bumps could include teasing and conflict. Behind all that, kids were forced to take a thoughtful look at those around them and sort out how society is put together. There were far fewer "excuses" that would lead to special ed coddling or behavior medications.
Could it be rough? Yes. Today, "conflict resolution" would be quickly imposed on kids who are inclined to roughhouse behavior on the playground. When I was a kid, in the fall in 1964 there was faux gang warfare on the East Elementary playground between the "Johnsons" and the "Goldwaters." This mirrored the presidential election of that year: the incumbent Lyndon Johnson vs. the pure conservative Barry Goldwater. Johnson inherited the JFK legacy but he was destined to be scarred by the Viet Nam War.
The playground conflict ended up a pretty scientific study too because the "Goldwaters" were a decided minority. Johnson indeed won the election going way, paired with Hubert Humphrey of Minnesota, his runningmate whose later timid approach on Viet Nam probably cost him the presidency in 1968.
You could get into trouble on the playground if someone came up to you and asked your opinion on N.F.O. (the National Farmers Organization, at attempt to unionize farmers which was sort of like trying to herd cats). I believe that a few blows were struck in the name of N.F.O.
Is there such a thing as unfettered "recess" time anymore? Or is all playtime strictly governed? In our risk averse culture (with litigation hovering at all times), something like the "Johnsons" vs. "Goldwaters" would probably be discouraged.
Our school in the 1960s was in a friendly neighborhood setting. The biggest issue with our school facilities was available space, because the boomers were filling everything up to the brim. But I don't recall any fundamental criticism of the facilities i.e. their quality.
Our teeming numbers forced "split shifts" until finally a new high school was built with a new gymnasium. The "new" gym built in 1968 was the focus of considerable community pride. Its predecessor was the type of gym that could have been a backdrop in the movie "Hoosiers." It had to be replaced because it was of substandard size and the seating capacity was inadequate.
And it was just, well, antiquated, although it could easily be used for theatrical and music purposes today along with youth basketball. It was an auditorium/gym complex and it seems destined for the wrecking ball now, if the City of Morris can come up with the money. If not, it will just stay cold, empty and haunted - a blight.
And the 1968 gym? It isn't even good enough for varsity basketball anymore. Most of the original bleachers have been taken out. You could say it's forgotten. Another new gym was built in 1991 and it only briefly captured our imagination. Now it too is forgotten, and it never did have enough bleachers to accommodate major varsity competition.
It seems that no matter how much we do for our schools, more is demanded.
Our new varsity gym and concert hall would have boggled minds if shown to parents of the "Wonder Years" 1960s. If Mr. Switzer thought it was risky to push for the very modest high school auditorium, my God, what must he think when looking at all the new stuff?
All these incredible new facilities, along with girls sports that has total parity with boys, are for current generations with substantially smaller numbers than in the "Wonder Years."
But maybe we'll find we can't afford it after all. Maybe we've been doing it with mirrors, sort of like Sarah Palin's ascendance politically. The future can never be predicted.
Maybe future generations of parents will want to push aside all the "extras" like sports and special ed and push for neighborhood schools in intimate, friendly settings where kids can be gently developed, aided by the limitless frontier of information on the Internet.
What does the future hold for Sarah Palin? Politically she has nothing to offer except buzzwords for the political right, but she will surely end up spectacularly rich. No wonder she appreciates John McCain.
Palin is using Fox News to build her fame. Fox News is harassing the Obama administration, which was democratically elected, to the point where it might be considered treasonous. Glenn Beck might as well be in a comic book. They cheerlead for the Tea Party which might just as well don white sheets.
We can only hope that Fox News keeps pushing the envelope until its excesses finally bring it down. In entertainment there is always an urge to "push the envelope." And Fox News and its ilk are clearly entertainment but it's dangerous entertainment.
Palin with Michele Bachmann is a circus of idiots. Bachmann is a very attractive woman and when she's with Palin, she makes Palin look less attractive. And older. There, now if someone in Palin's camp reads this, maybe they won't appear together again.
Maybe what we need is that old "Johnsons" gang from the East Elementary playground to chase the Tea Partiers away.
-Brian Williams - Morris mn Minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com

"Confederate History Month" in retreat

A Civil War flap erupted a day after I wrote an extensive post on the subject. Somewhere Tony Horwitz is smiling like yours truly. Not that we'd smile about the Civil War itself because it was horrible and should have been avoided (as long as the Union's objectives were not compromised).

Compromise? The Civil War is still being fought in non-military ways. Horwitz documented this in sometimes-sobering, sometimes-amusing ways. He traveled the south, specifically in areas where the Civil War was fought (because it was fought almost completely in the south). He took notes exhaustively and wrote "Confederates in the Attic," a must-read tome for history enthusiasts.
Horwitz is the quintessential journalist, author also of "Baghdad Without a Map."
The current flap has to do with Virginia Governor Robert McDonnell's attempt to proclaim April Confederate History Month. How he could do this without foreseeing controversy is beyond me. It's like the politicians who make analogies with the Nazis and World War Two and then have to apologize. Usually these analogies trivialize those earlier tragedies. These politicians repeatedly make the mistake. Southerners trying to commemorate the Civil War by honoring the Confederacy are making the same kind of mistake.
The Confederacy, which could more accurately be described as a rebellion, ceased being real a long time ago. The real Confederacy was nothing but ugly. It had far from universal support in the South. It was a pathetic resistance to change and progress. Since it is no longer real, it must represent different things today. Indeed it does.
Commemoration is usually framed in the issues of today, mostly on a subconscious level. Since the Confederacy never reached fruition or became real, it never had to meet any expectations. Thus it sort of exists in the ether of our collective imagination. There is a feeling tugging at all of us that we ought to admire the gallantry of those outnumbered southern troops and their beloved "battle flag" (the Stars and Bars, not the official flag of the Confederacy, contrary to the belief of many).
We all liked seeing the Butler men's basketball team in the Final 4 of the men's hoops tourney, so we all admire the grit and competitiveness of the underdog.
But the northern states had a huge challenge before them. While the South had only to defend a vast geographic area, the North had to invade and suppress a rebellion that had strong legs. The Union paid a horrible price in the process. The expenditure of blood and treasure was staggering. The point I'm primarily trying to make is that Civil War "nostalgia" is not based on reality. The Myth of the Lost Cause grew up in the ashes of the war, and it too had little to do with reality.
The South obsessed on its war heroes and constantly pondered how a different turn in the war here and there could have led to a different outcome. Their No. 1 question: What if Stonewall Jackson had lived? Losers always talk about "what ifs." General Jackson was killed by friendly fire in the aftermath of the battle of Chancellorsville. What if the military leadership had shown better judgment than to have Jackson out there in a vulnerable position?
What if the Confederates had been better supplied with artillery ordnance for the Gettysburg campaign? What if their artillery had used "triangulation" better for the barrage that preceded Pickett's Charge?
The fact is, the Confederates lacked the resources to win that war. When you lack resources you commit lapses. The Union had redundancies to cover for their mistakes. There is that tempting inclination to admire the valor of the Confederates, men whom we can view as products of their culture and not necessarily bad human beings.
Nearly all Civil War movies show the Confederates as great, deeply feeling human beings whom destiny had placed on the losing side. The movie "Gods and Generals," in which Ted Turner had a guiding hand, was a departure in that it tried to suggest that the South's cause was morally superior. The overblown movie has been judged a failure. It was made as a "prequel" to the movie "Gettysburg," which was a success and made along the traditional lines - no political tweaking of history.
Eventually there was supposed to be a third movie called "The Last Full Measure" to complete a "trilogy" of flicks. No. The failure of "Gods" has doomed those plans. But there would be nothing wrong in seeing some more Civil War movies because the topic is worthy of continuing attention, reminding us of our troubled and conflicted past.
But "Confederate History Month" is a laughable throwback to the "Myth of the Lost Cause." Governor McDonnell, a Republican, had to apologize and amend his proclamation to include the topic of slavery. Southerners always end up on their heels, backpedaling when these topics emerge from the murky depths.
Ironically, part of the push to honor the valor of Confederate warriors came from the North in the wake of the Civil War. This was for the sake of national morale during the very challenging time of Reconstruction and henceforth. The North was happy to put General Robert E. Lee on a pedestal. Why should the North care? The North had in fact prevailed in the only showdown that mattered.
The North allowed its Southern brethren to cling to the pride associated with the scrappy but futile battle with the industrialized North, a foe that represented the irresistible forces of progress. The North allowed the South to embrace some consolation prizes. But they're empty, as empty as "Confederate History Month."
-Brian Williams - Morris mn Minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com

Mr. Dowd might like our "green community"

What's to become of this? It's our old school property in Morris. (B.W. photo)

Elwood P. Dowd had an imaginary giant rabbit friend in the 1950 movie "Harvey." Having an imaginary friend is something we usually associate with children. It can happen with adults too as we are apparently seeing with at least some adults in Morris now.
Their imaginary friend is the "green community" which occupies the old school property.
Think you just see a big grassy expanse of land with some vestigial evidence of school life? If you do, you're like me. The "green community" of enlightened souls in their happy homes of low consumption is so real to some, it's winning awards.
The local print media informed us Saturday that the landscaping feature is in the award spotlight. Specifically this award went to an entity called "The Morris Affordable Green Neighborhood Master Plan."
Jimmy Stewart played the character Elwood P. Dowd, and I can just see our local equivalent accepting this award at the annual banquet of the Minnesota chapter of the American Society of Landscape Architects. This fete is set for April 23 in Minneapolis.
I can't predict the future, but I just can't believe there is a substantial need for new housing in this community! As for the people who really do want to build new, would they really choose this location?
In the last few years, haven't most people chosen to build on the eastern fringes of the community, out near the bypass and the bike path that skirts the Pomme de Terre River in such an aesthetically pleasing way?
What are the aesthetics of the old school property? I don't see any redeeming features, so correct me if I'm wrong. The Summit Cemetery chime music would waft over your home. To the west you'll be treated to the site of the big, totally abandoned old school complex, unless the city can suddenly find the funds to tear it down.
Local government isn't swimming in money these days, is it?
But won't this decaying hulk of a building complex have to be dealt with sometime? Don't people shake their heads as they drive past it?
Friend Glen Helberg has repeatedly told me, while we share breakfast at McDonald's, that the funds for demolishing the old school should have been included in the package for building the new school. I agree, and absent that, there should have been some guarantee of re-use of the old building and property (at least part of it).
It's a tragedy for the art deco auditorium to be crumbling away. That auditorium is attached to the anchor structure of the complex, ironically the oldest part, built in 1914. And certainly this anchor building could have had its interior refurbished for some type of meaningful new use.
I've always suggested it's a shame the Stevens County Museum couldn't have relocated there.
The museum stayed at the old Carnegie building which by itself was worthless in terms of interior space. The Carnegie building was a striking landmark only on the outside. And that wasn't reason enough to preserve it. Much money was poured into constructing an "addition" which for all practical purposes constitutes (or could have constituted) the whole museum.
The museum is in residential west Morris which is an out-of-the-way place. It has no parking provisions so cars are lined up along residential curbs whenever there's a special event.
The old school property in east Morris is one of those open spaces that city planners actually like. Isn't it true that in most cities, parks are mandated at certain intervals in order to promote a healthy overall environment? Eastside Park is a short jog from the old school property and it's less of an open space than when I was a kid, due to that hulk of a bandshell (the Killoran music stage) which sits cold and silent for the vast majority of the year.
It appears that our city leaders aren't comfortable with the old school property as one of those open spaces. The city manager has stated that he wants to see this land "back on the tax rolls." This would seem to require some sort of net increase in population or business activity in Morris. Does that appear to be on the horizon?
Again, no one can predict the future, but one might argue for prudence based on the current realities. One of those realities might be that we were misguided in approving of the new school and football field in the first place.
At least, one could argue that the new school reflected an overly grandiose vision. It was sold to the voters on the basis of "we need a new elementary school." But what we got was so much more than that.
We now have a school that before long might appear dated - one of the generation of schools that in appearance can be likened to a big prison on the outskirts of town. I'm not the one who coined the "prison" comparison. Credit for that goes to a current school board member who was describing the new schools in general, not ours specifically (although he/she might have been).
Meanwhile our old, abandoned school, big enough by itself, just sits there as a suggestion of blight overlooking that expansive empty space which once was a playground, and where the Tiger football team would practice and play its games.
In a conversation I had with a different school board member, he/she told me - I'm keeping them anonymous - we will probably never again see the "town square" atmosphere that marked football games at Coombe Field. That atmosphere cannot be duplicated at Big Cat Field.
Attendance at Big Cat for Tiger football has appeared to drop since its opening. We're supposed to be happy about this? Is this progress?
We were told during the "vote yes" drive that these new facilities were so important for attracting new residents to Morris. Has there been any growth in the population or economy? The prevailing signs have in fact seemed negative.
The residents of a new "green community" would probably just be transplants from other parts of town and not newcomers. Would that add to the tax rolls?
Will our monstrous new school complex end up being an asset at all? We have been through a period in which bigger has been equated with better, and "build new" has been like a mantra with a stigmatizing effect on more conservative people who might like to just renovate what we have.
The advocates of "vote no" were put on the defensive. But time might vindicate them. Saturday's Star Tribune (actually called "Early Sunday") reported "state educators and policymakers say the financial outlook for schools in Minnesota is as bleak as it's been in at least a generation, as a host of budget-busting factors converge."
This might not be just one of those cyclical revenue issues either. Demographics are involved in a big way.
"Voters whose children are grown and whose incomes have shriveled will be less likely to approve requests to hike their property taxes," the article asserted.
It was added that the recession isn't the cause. There is a firm trend of diminishing funds and smaller enrollment. We've seen four-day school weeks in some places.
Some say this move and others like it are nothing more than Band-Aids. Truly innovative thinking is going to have to come into play. The problem might be compounded in Morris because we have two monstrosities: the sprawling new school with its aspects of opulence (e.g. the concert hall) and the haunted old one.
Unless some big new industries start up here, we could be in a world of hurt. Experts are saying that the excrement won't really start hitting the fan until the 2011-12 school year. Federal stimulus dollars will dry up.
"It's scary," says Scott Croonquist, head of the Association of Metropolitan School Districts, quoted in the Star Tribune article.
Look for more headlines about school closings, increased class sizes and tense issues to be resolved with teachers' professional associations. Sports will have to go under a microscope.
Many people are skeptical about shoveling more money at schools. "Money pits" is how they are seen by many, according to the Star Tribune.
That reminds me of a quote attributed (not publicly) to a former Morris Area school board member, someone imbued with that healthy skepticism. Reacting to a plea for more funds, he/she (anonymity again) told someone in an informal conversation that "if you give us the money, we'll just spend it."
That's priceless.
My top suggestion has been to creatively move away from the old education model and have kids learn more online. This continues a primary theme of this website. We've barely seen the start of how the Internet will change our world. Education might actually be enhanced and with a significant cost savings.
But will our old "prison" type schools be rendered as costly dinosaurs? I feel they might be.
The Star Tribune cited a popular suggestion of having "more but smaller schools, which might realize significant savings by partnering with other organizations to offer arts and sports."
The article then took some words right out of my mouth, stating that "smaller schools create a strong sense of community and accountability, which in turn minimizes discipline and learning problems."
The term I have often used in sharing this thought is "neighborhood schools."
Our old school in Morris was nestled in a cozy, friendly neighborhood setting. I think there is much to be said for this as opposed to the "prison" model.
But our old school and old "town square" football field are apparently gone with the wind. Subconsciously a lot of people may share my interpretation of all this, but in their denial they have come up with their "imaginary friend" of the "green community," a la "Harvey" in the Jimmy Stewart movie.
I fear this movie might not have a happy ending.
-Brian Williams - Morris mn Minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com

U.S. Civil War: remote in time but compelling

It seems almost ghoulish that whole libraries can be filled with books on the U.S. Civil War, whereas if war could have been averted, the 1860s would be a yawn in the history books with perhaps one shelf sufficing. I used to be on mailing lists for booksellers with whole extensive sections of Civil War books. Today I have tried to get off mailing lists of all kinds because of our emerging paperless society.

I'm sure if you typed any common term connected to the Civil War into a search engine, you'd get reams. It seems obvious: conflict mesmerizes us. But the Civil War is fading ever more into a very distant past. Why the lure? Author Tony Horwitz has a theory. The Civil War, the intrepid journalist suggests, was the last war to be fought by human beings. This was before massive industrial inroads enabled the killing of human beings "with industrial efficiency," Horwitz writes. (He's the author of "Confederates in the Attic.")
So we had wide sweeping pageantry and drama in this uniquely American "brother vs. brother" conflict. The sheer grisly nature of the war doesn't distract us now. We are too distanced by time. Even people who had ancestors die or get hurt in the conflict aren't touched on an intimate level, such is the gap of time. So today we focus on the tactics and personalities in the way that Americans have always been fascinated by competition.
The battle of Gettysburg is iconic. At the time, its principals never dreamt this conflict would have such status. It was another in a string of horrible battles in which the South was pugnacious and basically trying to get the North weary of the suffering to the point where a peace could be negotiated. This peace, in the South's view, would at least grant the South leverage on certain issues if not outright sovereignty. The word "rebellion" was assailed as Union propaganda at the time. But after considerable reading I feel the term is entirely fair.
If the South were really a would-be autonomous nation, why did it never have a discernible sense of geographic boundaries? The Mason-Dixon line was more of an academic exercise that was like drawing a boundary on a dodgeball court. And to the west? The west was a wholly wide-open proposition.
It was after the Civil War that the Federals decided that Gettysburg would be the symbolic battle. Many of the units put their memorials there. Interestingly even the South didn't shun this. There are memorials all over the place including one to the First Minnesota Regiment. A replica of that memorial is at Summit Cemetery here in Morris. It's perhaps the most overlooked landmark in our community. It's called the "Running Rifleman" statue (or Sam Smith statue) and is one of the most artistically striking memorial designs in connection to that battle.
The First Minnesota, composed of loggers and immigrants attracted to our then-wild state, had an essential role in the Union success at Gettysburg. A horrible sacrifice was required. General Winfield Hancock ordered the First Minnesota to plug an opening in the Union line, essentially buying time for the Federals. It was a successful maneuver but it was accomplished at horrible cost. It wasn't as glamorous as the bayonet charge directed by Joshua Chamberlain on Little Round Top. Those were Maine boys.
The Battle of Gettysburg has been placed under a microscope with authors and artists exploring no end to its twists, pivotal moments and sub-plots. One of the best books I've ever read is "The Killer Angels" by the late Michael Shaara, Pulitzer Prize winner, which is an historical novel on the battle. Celebrated as that book is, it has been predictably picked apart by obsessive Civil War devotees who allege that certain details aren't quite right.
Civil War artists are likewise under tremendous pressure to make their work historically accurate down to the finest details. At least one contrarian in this field suggests, though, that "art" has no such accuracy prerequisite. "Art" can take license on a variety of fronts, while only the sub-specialty of "illustration" might demand flawless accuracy.
So what do I think of all the obsessive analysis and attempts to document? I'm reminded of two things. First, there's the privilege that generals have of writing definitive historical works after-the-fact, even though they have CYA motivations (cover-your-whatever). These august figures who are used to so much deference don't want to admit how chaotic and disorganized most battles are as they develop. Secondly, I'm reminded of Andy Rooney of CBS News, who was an eyewitness to part of World War Two. Rooney said of a certain theater in that war that it was "a mess" from an Allied standpoint, not the methodical march forward as might be suggested in books.
War can never be neatly organized because you're fighting a foe who is trying to use deception as much as you are. In the end, the winning side usually just masses resources to the point that it cannot be stopped. The Union had those resources in the Civil War. The South's only hope was for some type of negotiated peace where concessions could be gained. But no, President Abraham Lincoln hired U.S. Grant to do a job, plain and simple, and that was to wage "Total War" and give no ground.
Grant treated his mission in a wholly businesslike way and had no interest in the pageantry of war or "gentlemanly" traditions. This was a war of attrition in which the North knew it had superior numbers. The battle of Cold Harbor was the epitome of Northern sacrifice. Today we read about such conflicts from a comfortable distance. Back then it was unspeakable horror.
Think of the conflagration that the "Running Rifleman" was running toward. Today it suggests glory more than tragedy as the latter has been suppressed with time. We all ought to focus on the truth.
-Brian Williams - Morris mn Minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com

APBA baseball gave dice rolls special life

Rolling the dice is something I normally associate with a gang that shows up at Don's Cafe most mornings. Bill Dripps is a "regular." I'm not a daily patron anymore but I assume the ritual lives. I would sometimes flinch, such was the force with which these guys slammed the dice cup on the table.
Life can be like a roll of the dice. Craps is the fastest moving game in Las Vegas and it's built around dice. "No dice" is a popular expression. It's hard to duplicate the suspense of a dice roll, so it's no surprise that the old APBA baseball simulation game had such appeal for a generation of young men. It was clearly a male hobby.
The game reconstructed major league baseball, as you could type boxscores and game summaries afterward that would appear totally real. It was clearly an "analog" type of hobby that has been totally shoved aside in our digital, computer-oriented age. Simulations today can be performed in mind-boggling fashion thanks to computers.
APBA was a hobby in my sometimes-wandering youth, and I kept the game pieces around into adult years to occasionally sample this "retro guilty pleasure."
Dave Barry once wrote "there is a fine line between having a hobby and mental illness." His intent was humor but he was pointing out the odd contradiction in being committed to something with no apparent tangible dividends. In my case APBA may have helped shape writing skills and discipline with organizing data in written form. Of course I have previously suggested that comic books had their own dividends. I would suggest we don't know sometimes when we're learning.
I never liked the name "APBA," pronounced as if it were a word and not a series of initials. It was awkward. The creator had a little story behind the name but I didn't care. I always felt I needed to apologize for the awkwardness of this name when telling friends about it. "App-bah." A marketer couldn't have signed off on this.
The APBA game itself was fascinating. I refer to it in the past tense because I gather it only exists in vestigial form today.
APBA came out with a computer version many years ago. But it's sort of like "newspapers going online." Of course they can, but why not forget about the old models completely and create wholly new ones with the new assets at our disposal? The name "APBA," or its rival "Strat-o-matic," might have had some legacy/retro value for a while. Then they become vulnerable to capitalism's "creative destruction." Local public official Charlie Glasrud (attorney) says he was a Strat-o-matic enthusiast.
Our old games moved at a snail's pace but didn't baseball itself? There was a beauty in the simple structure of these games, a structure that allowed you to see their nuts, bolts and probabilities. There had to be a little self-starter in you. Having a card for each player was a charm that cannot be duplicated today on a computer. The data on each card gave that player a firm personality.
My description of the APBA mechanics will be pretty basic: Each card has numbers that correspond to dice rolls, with 36 possibilities presented on each roll. There is a red die and a smaller white die. A roll yields a two-digit number. The best offensive results can be expected when you roll two 6s ("boxcars"). The second best come with two 1s ("snake eyes") and third best with two 3s. Pitchers are divided into four basic categories represented by grades A through D. All phases of the game are represented in one way or another.
There was a magazine tying together APBA enthusiasts: the APBA Journal. The Journal was young when I discovered the hobby and was put together in a primitive way in that pre-desktop publishing time. Its creators were a pair of brothers, last name of Gaydos, in San Mateo, California.
APBA was an extremely niche hobby that could puzzle many people if you attempted to explain it. An APBA Journal contributor once suggested that if you had an unexpected visitor at your home when you had all your APBA stuff lying out, you should make up a story about "working on your taxes." Being honest might prompt the kind of thoughts Dave Barry shared.
The APBA Journal was run in the end by Eric Naftaly, who was nice enough to send a lengthy letter when I contacted him about buying some current issues. This was in about 2000, when I think the Internet and all its ramifications were more than just on the horizon.
Not long after my correspondence with Naftaly, the Journal, like I imagine all niche hobby publications, bit the dust and went online. No more postal expenses. Just a big brimming invitation to all enthusiasts to join the community.
The type of people drawn to APBA in its heyday would be computer "geeks" today.
APBA baseball is like popular music "unplugged" with acoustic guitars. It has beauty in its simplicity. No computer sifting through reams of data and just spitting out results. Each at-bat had significance.
As with real-life baseball, each game was unique like a snowflake. And I loved compiling a boxscore and game summary just like you'd see in the newspaper. I had no computer back then to type it all out and make it look professional. Today I have computer access so I'll share for you the summary of an APBA simulation game involving the 1965 Minnesota Twins (who won the pennant) and Detroit Tigers.
You can almost detect that curious odor of beer and cigarettes wafting through the old Metropolitan Stadium air. Or the airliners occasionally roaring overhead. Or the Registry Hotel in the distance. Or the Howard Johnson's across the street from the outfield parking area. I can imagine the "dollar size" beer i.e. the "large size" sold at concessions. The hot dogs, the infield crew, the organist etc.
The environs of Metropolitan Stadium in Bloomington were different in many ways from the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome. It wasn't all good, to be sure, because the elements could be a problem. But it had its charms. I invite you to remember these charms as you read the following game review, a game played with those fascinating dice rolls of the "unplugged" APBA era:

Bloomington - Jimmie Hall broke a tie score in the most abrupt and decisive way possible, connecting for a grand slam in the bottom of the sixth. This exclamation point of a blast gave the host Twins the key momentum en route to their 8-2 win over the Detroit Tigers on a cool, still evening.
The Minnesota rally in the sixth began with one out. Jerry Kindall singled off Detroit lefty Hank Aguirre, putting the wheels in motion, then Joe Nossek singled which advanced Kindall to third. Nossek sped into second with a steal.
Tony Oliva trotted down to first base with an intentional walk, which set up the force play at all the bases. But there was no force opportunity in the offing, as Jim Kaat, the good hitting pitcher called upon in this instance to pinch hit (for fellow pitcher Al Worthington), went down on strikes.
With two outs, Aguirre sought to put out the fire with Hall waving the bat at the plate. But power merchant Hall found an Aguirre pitch to his liking and made Aguirre pay, sending the ball into the seats. The decisive swing put manager Sam Mele's crew out in front 6-2, and this was a pretty satisfying cushion for the capable Twins pitchers who were available in the bullpen.
A total of five pitchers saw work for Minnesota. Worthington had a stint of one and two-thirds innings and was awarded the win. Dick Stigman, the big lefty from Nimrod, Minnesota, was the final Twins hurler and he worked out of jams in each of the last three innings.
Detroit got the bases loaded with nobody out in the eighth. Stigman got Don Demeter to fly out to center field, and after that a double play polished things off nicely from Zoilo Versalles (shortstop) to Jerry Kindall (second) to Bob Allison (first).
Detroit's only runs came on a two-run triple by Willie Horton in the third.
Fans departed "the Met" with abundant satisfaction. Their team appears to have the magic in '65.

How about that? The Twins of today are headed back outdoors again, ready to play amid the elements but presumably without quite the haze of booze and smoke odors that we picked up in that bygone time.
The new field and environs are engineered to minimize the effects of undesirable weather elements. Games can continue in the rain or so we're told. We'll find out soon whether the new Target Field will live up to its billing and whether the 2010 Minnesota Twins will be anything special.
Some historical footnotes about APBA baseball: This game was developed by the late Dick Seitz of Lancaster, Pennsylvania. He was inspired by being a fan of the Philadelphia Phillies in the 1950s. I write that he "developed" rather than "created" this game because there is some controversy here.
Hobby devotees eventually learned that Seitz found the fundamental concept of his game in a pre-existing simulation called "National Pastime." The revelation brought mixed feelings but I was never upset. Seitz worked strenuously developing innovations that in effect created a whole new game, plus he was a tireless marketer. Reading his life story, in fact, reminds of the fundamental entrepreneurial American spirit (beginning in his basement etc.).
Richard Seitz, RIP.
Seitz groomed a successor, Fritz Light, who was introduced to devotees in a Journal photo in which he sported extreme pork-shop sideburns (in the mid-1970s, just like Lee Swanson in his mayoral campaign poster in Morris at the same time).
Light held on until the onslaught of the tech revolution that changed all the rules and rendered his game an "analog" type of throwback. He eventually departed.
A few "dinosaurs" still roll the dice and they might just claim that it has something to do with taxes!
-Brian Williams - Morris mn Minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com

April Fool's Day lowers its profile

I can remember when the Martin twins, Sharon and Sheila, brought noisemakers to the Met Lounge to celebrate the "eve" of April Fool's Day. Pretty innovative. Pretty consistent with the irreverent inclinations of the Martins, whose patriarch Willie has left us. I'm sure Willie is sharing his trademark "love ya" in heaven.
April Fool's Day is certainly not a holiday. So what is it? One could easily Google the topic or perhaps to to Wikipedia. I don't care so much about the history as I do about assessing its present. April Fool's Day does not seem to get the attention it once did. Google changed its name for a day but it isn't unusual for Google to apply some sort of wrinkle on its home page. It doesn't qualify as a prank because no one was fooled.
Pranks are waning in our culture. Pranks that can be genuinely hurtful are especially on the wane. The trend has developed at the same rate as political correctness. And it has mirrored the growth of our litigious tendencies. An ambitious prank might bring a lawsuit today. People are less inclined to laugh at ambitious pranks or to think them justified by any criteria.
I remember when Keith Kirwin discovered a major winning lottery ticket (called "Megabucks") and thought he had hit the jackpot, only to be deflated when learning (belatedly) it was a prank. It's my understanding that it wasn't taken in stride real well. I was even called as a media person on this, and I was allowed to come and go (at DeToy's Restaurant) and collect the info without anyone tapping me on the shoulder to let me in on the joke. I eventually found out through a phone call from the spouse of one of the perpetrators.
Based on what I learned about that incident, it could be grounds for a lawsuit.
Large companies have "employee manuals" nowadays that have no sense of humor at all. They encourage behavior that would make us into faceless, humorless automatons. Pranks are so contrary to the contemporary corporate ethos. Is it fair to say they're tied to the old chauvinistic male culture?
If in fact pranks recede, that's fine with me. They can be retired along with cigarettes and the "cocktail hour." Perhaps they have been historically tied to the fraternity and sorority culture. I viewed that culture only from a distance when in college. I never cared for it but I've never claimed that my tastes should be universal. I saw that culture as one in which social acceptance was based on so many arbitrary things. It seemed like a culture of tribalism with divisions drawn for no rational reason.
I knew a sorority member once (from Concordia of Moorhead) who evaluated her peers on the silliest of criteria.
"Hazing" is quite consistent with a prankster mindset but there is absolutely nothing funny about that. I have been mystified by hazing and those occasional sensational incidents when someone is seriously hurt. Young people join the frat culture voluntarily so all I can do is continue to shrug my shoulders. As for the far more innocuous April Fool's Day, I'm always "on guard" when that day arrives, lest I come upon some jackpot lottery ticket, so I'm not too fearful of getting hurt.
In a sense I deal with fake lottery tickets every day. This is with those Nigerian email scams, which have such a warm tone with how they befriend me. If only I could receive like communications from "real" people!
As for the Martin twins, I'm sure April Fool's Day remains vibrant and relevant for them.
Love ya!
-Brian Williams - Morris mn Minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com