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Minari

The movie Minari is about an American family of Korean heritage that buys some land in Arkansas to get a new start. In an opening scene, the husband shows his wife the "color of the dirt." She says sarcastically, "You bought the land because of the color of the dirt?" Their struggle to save their marriage and make their new farm succeed makes for a terrific movie.

At the Sundance Film Festival it won both the Audience Award and the Grand Jury Prize, a rare feat. It now has six Oscar nominations: best picture, best actor, best supporting actress, best original score, best director, and best original screenplay. Lee Isaac Chung was both the director and the writer. The terrific Steven Yeun played the father and Youn Yuh-Jung played the grandmother. She would be the one most likely to win an award for her wild and yet nuanced performance. She was superb.

When you hear about a movie that's about a Korean family moving to Arkansas, you expect to see a lot of the usual bigotry traditionally associated with that type of movie. One of the reasons I loved the movie so much is there is none of that. Each character is treated with respect for their dignity. The family finds a friend and hard worker in a religious fanatic who celebrates Sunday service by carrying a heavy wooden cross for miles.

The director referred to it as an "American movie." And that is exactly what it is. It does not matter what the heritage of the main characters is. They are just a family looking for a new start, like families around the world often do. They just happened to be Korean.

The movie itself is set in the 1980s. We know that because of one reference to President Reagan. The word "minari" itself is Korean for an edible plant that can grow easily in just about any place. In the after movie discussion, they call it "the second harvest" after the main crop is done. That is the central metaphor for the movie. Here is what the director said about the plant: "The interesting thing about it is that it's a plant that will grow very strongly in its second season, after it has died and come back."

Baseball Stories: Al Kaline's Throw

The most incredible throw I have ever seen in Major League baseball was by the great Detroit Tigers right fielder Al Kaline. You have to understand how baseball works and picture this in your head. The Red Sox have George Scott on third with one out and the Tigers leading by one run in the late innings. Scott is a decent runner for a big first baseman. The batter hits a fly ball toward the right field flag pole, so Scott is ready to tag up and score on a sacrifice fly. Kaline, a right handed thrower, has to run straight to his left to catch the ball which takes his momentum in a perpendicular direction from the plate. It is much easier to be running toward the infield as you catch a ball and throw home. Kaline catches it with his left gloved hand and turns to face home and throws the ball on a straight line to home with no bounces for a double play at home plate. That moment was the stuff that baseball memories are made of for lovers of the game.

"Human Compasses"

My poem "Human Compasses" has been published in the journal Songs of Eretz on the theme of circles. I included in my poem stories about the painter Giotto and the metaphysical poet John Donne.

Giotto (1267-1337) was an Italian painter who impressed Pope Benedict XI with his ability to draw a red circle without the assistance of compasses. When the Benedict sent a messenger to Giotto, asking him to send a drawing to demonstrate his skill, Giotto drew a red circle so perfect that it seemed as though it was drawn using a pair of compasses and instructed the messenger to send it to the Pope. The messenger departed believing that he had been made a fool of. The messenger brought other artists' drawings back to the Pope in addition to Giotto's. When the messenger related how Giotto had made the circle without moving his arm and without the aid of compasses the Pope and his courtiers were amazed at how Giotto's skill greatly surpassed all of his contemporaries.

John Donne (1572-1631) wrote the famous metaphor of love being like a compass maintaining contact in spite of his travel away from his wife to Europe. In Donne's poem "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning," Donne tells his wife that they will still be connected because they are like the two legs of a compass.

As an old man Donne wrapped himself in a shroud and had a statue made of himself. He would stare at it for hours to see what he looked like dead. On a visit to St.Paul's Cathedral, I asked to see the statue, which survived the Great Fire. No one knew what I was talking about until a security guard finally showed me where it was. I felt like I was actually able to see the great metaphysical poet.

Both of those famous people are included in my poem "Human Compasses." It can be found at this link only if you scroll down quite a bit.

"I Buried You on a Bright Red Tricycle" on Dime Show Review

My poem "I Buried You on a Bright Red Tricycle" was published in Dime Show Review in 2017. They always did an excellent job of posting wonderful pictures with all of their poetry. I have just learned that the journal has folded. So for the last time I am posting a link to my poem and celebrating a great journal. Take the time to look the journal over if you wish. It will be there until some time in 2022 when it will disappear forever. Just like those we lose in life.

Here is the link:

"Stopping at a Red Light at 2:00 in the Morning with No One Around"

My poem "Stopping at a Red Light at 2:00 in the Morning with No One Around" was published in the second issue of the Irish journal Beir Bua.

The poem describes a moment waiting at a red light as I obeyed the law and waited for the light to change instead of just going on through. I turned it into a bit of a hallucinatory fantasy.

When it actually happened, I felt good obeying the law when I did not have to. I just wanted to be a good citizen. I appreciate that more as I grow older.

Beir Bua is a journal for experimental writing. The Irish word "Beir" means "bring," and the word "Bua" means Victory, talent, or virtue.

The link is below. First click on the Download button; then scroll down to page 9 for my poem.

Reading More Than One Book

I like to read more than one book at a time. It has its disadvantages, mostly in keeping track of what's going on, but I love the idea of setting myself up to read in any situation. Here is what I am reading at the present time in five different ways.

1. I am reading a hardcover book: Caste by Isabel Wilkerson. I read this book to myself on my own and take notes. My review will have more details.

2. I am reading a hardcover book to my wife out loud: Gwendy's Button Box by Stephen King. I love doing this. It takes longer, but it does bond us together.

3. I am listening to one book on my iphone: The Evolution of Beauty by Richard Prum. Terrific science book. This helps me to fill in time without resorting to a game on my phone when I am sitting around somewhere with nothing to read. Hard to take any notes, just what stays in my brain.

4. I am reading one book on my ipad: This Kind of War: The Classic Military History of the Korean War by T. R. Fehrenbac. Here I take no notes.

5. I read one poetry paperback slowly: Those Who Keep Arriving by Julie Danho. I like to read poetry in small doses if possible.

So there you have it. Five books at once.

Senator Kelly Loeffler of Georgia

I have been a critic of Senator Kelly Loeffler in her short stay in the United States Senate. She was in over her head, just like Donald Trump was. She was not prepared, had no idea what she was doing, accomplished nothing except damage. Just like her President. Why Georgia governor Brian Kemp appointed her to finish the term of Senator Johnny Isakson, I have no idea.

But she had one great moment last night. Under the influence of Donald Trump, she intended to support the ridiculous challenge to the presidential election results. Instead, she backed down and issued a statement of contrition with Reverend Ralph Warnock, the man who defeated her, seated right behind her. When she finished, he applauded her as did many others. I applaud her now. We need these moments of hope that people can change.

She may have had selfish motives for why she made this decision. She is part owner of a Women's National Basketball Association team. Players want her to get out of the league for her racist statements. So this may have been a ploy to protect her future. However, she will also face social media attacks and death threats from the fringes of the Trump movement. So there was courage there. I salute her for that moment of contrition.

A Day of Shame for the Republican Party

January 6, 2021, has been a day of shame for the Republican Party.

There is one image of one Republican that sticks in my mind. It does not include the rotten apples at the bottom of the Republican barrel of apples. I am not talking about Ted Cruz, Matt Gaetz, Louie Gohmert, Jim Jordan, Kevin McCarthy, Devin Nunes, and the like. No, I am talking about Senator James Lankford of Oklahoma. He was at the podium objecting to the certification of Joe Biden as President when the call came to evacuate the hall because a mob had entered. It shows how deep the Republican problems run when a guy like Lankford is speaking out against the vote count.

That image of Lankford will be remembered and shown long after his career is over. What a disgrace. He should have known better. The fact that he was in this pack of cowards shows how deep the Republican shame runs.

It does not matter how many times votes are recounted, the Trump bootlickers will never accept the result.

It is seriously time once again to think about how to handle this President before he does much more damage in the next few weeks.

PUSHCART NOMINATION FROM RATTLE FOR "THE GRAY MAN"

I received a nomination for the Pushcart Prize from the journal Rattle. It was a special thrill because they receive so many poems every year and can only select six poems to nominate. More importantly, it was a chance to share a deeply personal story that resonated with many people who do not even know me. That is always a great feeling for a writer.

The poem is based on my visit to see my father in a nursing home where he was placed because he had Parkinson's Disease, and we did not have enough family members who could take care of him. An important section of this long poem is my effort to say "I love you" to my father. Love was always understood and not something spouted off to each other in our family. Yet there was never any doubt about that love.

In section one, I use the metaphor of trying to read the subtitles on an Ingmar Bergman movie which used to be blocked out when someone on screen was wearing white. Thus, while I was staring at my father's sleeping body on his bed, I was trying to comprehend our life together by staring at the white sheets. I am very proud of that metaphor. There is always the question of whether or not my audience knows what I am talking about. I guess an author cannot worry about that.

Here is a link to the news and the poem itself:

Jeopardy Game in Saigon

Alex Trebek died of cancer today at the age of 80. He was an iconic announcer on the Jeopardy television show and will be difficult to replace. He will be missed by his many fans.

I have loved Jeopardy all of my life. One of my dreams was to be a contestant on the show. My friends all encouraged me to give it a shot because I was so good at it. But it was not to be.

We used to play in my college dormitory room all the time. We often created our own games. The college even had a contest with teams in one of the lecture rooms. I was, of course, the captain of my team.

Eventually I went to South Vietnam to train South Vietnamese soldiers. My family sent me a boxed Jeopardy game to play with my friends. I honestly thought no one would want to play, so I just left it on my bunk. Someone came in my room, saw it, and began shouting, "A jeopardy game! I love Jeopardy!"

The next thing I knew soldiers were flocking to my room to play Jeopardy. We had some great games before we ran out of questions and the excitement died down. But what a wonderful memory.