Branch Rickey by Jimmy Breslin

I was very happy to see Branch Rickey by Jimmy Breslin. Breslin is a no-nonsense author who gets quickly to the heart of the matter in his many books, and major league team owner/general manager Rickey is a complicated and important figure in the history of baseball. I am also encouraged to see that it is a new title in the Penguin Lives series. It has been four years since Viking has issued a new hardcover title in this series that asks acclaimed authors to write short biographies of important cultural, political, and historical figures. Among my favorites are Elvis Presley by Bobbie Ann Mason, Charles Dickens by Jane Smiley, and Buddha by Karen Armstrong. These talented authors tell key stories that describe essential characters and reveal why their subject remain important long after their lives. (Only George Herbert Walker Bush still lives.)

Breslin does not disappoint. In his distinctive voice, he first apologizes for only meeting Rickey once and having to rely on other sources for his stories. But he found people who had first-hand knowledge (or close to it) and makes Rickey come to life for the reader.

Of course, a story about Branch Rickey is a story about Jackie Robinson and the breaking of the "gentleman's agreement" to exclude black players from major league baseball. Breslin admires Rickey's great deed without idolizing the man, whose Brooklyn Dodgers did benefit greatly from being the first team to draw from an obvious talent pool. Rickey also made a lot of money as the partial owner of the Dodgers. By pitching the act as just good business instead of good deeds, he was eventually able to sway his banker, manager, players, and competitors to his way of thinking - seven years before Brown vs. the Board of Education and seventeen years before the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Some historians argue that the integration of baseball was a key landmark in progress of race relations, which is not to say that it was an easy and immediately successful experiment. It would be another three decades before a black became a manager.

At only 146 pages, Brancy Rickey can be read in an evening. It is also easy to carry and will pack nicely on a trip. Whatever, it is worth making time to read.

Breslin, Jimmy. Branch Rickey. Lipper/Viking, 2011. ISBN 9780670022496.

Poets & Writers on the State of Book Reviewing:

The September/October 2011 issue of Poets & Writers has an article that should interest any librarian or reader interested in current trends in book reviewing. Back From the Dead: The State of Book Reviewing by Jane Ciabattari does not consider reviews generated by libraries and librarians but does a good job of reporting on the transformation and survival of the book reviewing "establishment," the reviews in industry journals, newspapers, magazines, media, and big-time online. There are numerous links so an interested reader or librarian can revisit review sources that he or she may have neglected of late. (I have neglected many of late.)

Ciabattari mentions in her article that in 2010 there were three million new book titles of which two-thirds were self-published or print-on-demand. I'll bet few from that two-thirds ever get mentioned in the sources the author cites.

Are Compact Discs Disappearing? What Do I Do?

Just about six weeks ago I had the thought "I certainly won't be buying many more music CDs." I was beginning to believe the omens of the compact disc's demise.

• Many new cars no longer come with CD players.
• I had trouble finding a decent portable CD player to purchase recently.
• Many of the stores selling CDs have closed.
• Big box stores still selling CDs have poor collections.
• Internet downloads are said to be taking over.

While I have had iTunes on my computers for about five years, I have still never purchased anything from the iTunes store. It seems like such a bad precedent to set. Instead, I have loaded many of my CDs into iTunes and from there put some of these onto my iPod. As nice as it is, I have never really listened to this music much except during the short, intense spring gardening season or on a trip. I seem to use the iPod more for listening to free podcasts that I download and audiobooks that I borrow from libraries. I still like my CDs in the car or in my portable player. It just seems the right package to me.

Still, I heard the death bells ringing and thought "I have plenty already. I really never need another CD. I can rotate what I have as long as I am still able to get a player." Enough is enough.

Of course, this is not an absolute pledge. I host the Friday at the Ford concerts at my library. We have a great variety of very talented musicians come, and they almost all bring CDs to sell. I have built a nice collection of CDs of musicians that I have not only heard live but have met and like as people. I know that I will continue to get several every year as long as musicians hand sell their CDs.

So I spoke with one of our library's shelvers the other day. When did he last buy a CD. At sixteen years of age, he has never purchased a CD. I hear a deep resonant dong.

So, what have I done since I had my thought?

In mid-July, I attended a free Sunday afternoon concert at Cantigny Gardens in Warrenville with friends. (There was a fee to enter the park.) The attraction was Guitarra Azul, a contemporary flamenco-inspired band with two guitars, a bass, and three percussionists. Their original music was really exciting, and I bought two CDs, Mariposa and Oasis. They sound really great in the car. They'd make a great soundtrack to a road trip.

Early in August, Bonnie and I went with friends to the Bristol Renaissance Fair in Bristol, Wisconsin. I was rather disappointed by the lack of live music. There used to be constant music from various minstrels and consorts on several stages all day.
Now, there are mostly comedy acts. As we headed toward the exit, however, we discovered a shop with Renaissance and Medieval games, DVDs, and music CDs. There was a vast selection of CDs featuring different countries, instruments, and forms of music. I could have spent the whole afternoon looking through them. As it was, I bought two: English Madrigals and Songs from Henry VIII to the 20th Century by the Oxford Camerata and Elizabethan Songs and Consort Music by the Rose Consort of Viols with Catherine King, mezzo-soprano. Both please me much.

Then, a week later, I discovered that our local music resale shop was going out of business and everything was 60 percent off. That made already well-priced CDs even less expensive. I restrained myself and only bought five titles:

Classic Masters by Gordon Lightfoot - really early songs three of which were new to me.
Greatest Hits: Shining Like a National Guitar by Paul Simon - a 2000 title that draws from about 25 years of his career.
In the Wind by Peter Paul & Mary - the photo on the back has them singing in front of the Washington Monument at a civil rights march. All the songs are classic PP&M.
Reasons Why by Nickel Creek - my daughter introduced me to this group.
Songs & More Songs by Tom Lehrer - Everyone should hear these outrageously clever political songs from the 1960s.

So, the CD may be endangered in some habitats but it is thriving at our house. Perhaps I will declare the property as a CD preserve. Maybe I can take in a few more CDs. I know some titles I'd still like to have.

I wonder what my next crazy thought will be?

Bright Wings: An Illustrated Anthology of Poems About Birds

On our trip to Iowa City several weeks ago, we visited Prairie Lights, one of our favorite bookstores. Browsing the long display of recent books on the main floor, I discovered Bright Wings: An Illustrated Anthology of Poems About Birds edited by Billy Collins with paintings by David Allen Sibley. Collins and Sibley are two of my heroes, and I was pleased to find their collaboration. Collins, a former poet laureate of the United States, chose the poems, and Collins contributed paintings of birds doing what birds do - wading, flying, and perching. Collins wrote an introduction, which includes a poem the reader will not want to miss. I am not certain who wrote the captions below the paintings; I suspect Sibley for the most part because they give the kinds of facts that he highlighted in his famous The Sibley Guide to Birds; Collins may have written some that refer to the poems that follow.

The poems come from the historical parade of poets, back to the Roman lyricist Catullus and up to contemporary poets, including Kevin Stein, Dorian Laux, and Collins himself. The book could serve well as a topical introduction to the world of poetry, which includes, John Keats, the Brownings, Emily Dickinson, Thomas Hardy, Sylvia Plath, Mary Oliver, and many other well-known poets. Collins said in his introduction that he purposely avoided overused titles, "The Swans" by Yeats and "The Raven" by Poe, but there is still an excellent representation of the masters.

Collins starts the collection fittingly with a tribute "John James Audubon" by Stephen Vincent Benet.

Of course, collections will always include some poems with which I don't connect, but Bright Wings has plenty of poems I did like and admire. My favorites include the philosophical "Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver, a humorous portion of "Woody's Restaurant, Middlebury" by Greg Delaney, and the nightmarish "A Barred Owl" by Richard Wilbur. I enjoyed the rhyming in Elizabeth Bishop's "Sandpiper" and the story told in Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's "The Emperor's Bird's-Nest." Slogging through a few titles I did not like was worth the effort, for I found much that I did enjoy.

Bright Wings is an attractive book that should be found in many public libraries. It would also make a nice gift to a literate bird-loving friend.

Bright Wings: An Illustrated Anthology of Poems About Birds edited by Billy Collins, paintings by David Allen Sibley. Columbia University Press, 2010. ISBN 9780231150842.

The Crossley ID Guide by Richard Crossley

The Red-bellied Woodpecker is badly named, Richard Crossley admits on page 295 in his new Crossley ID Guide. The red on its belly is "barely noticeable." Such an admission seems rare for a bird expert, but Crossley seems more realistic in his expectations of birders. He also seems willing to try something new to help them, which is apparent looking at his new guide. Right off the bat I noticed that the parade of birds does not start with the Common Loon. Crossley groups birds more by habitats and behaviors, and the loon does not appear until page 84.

The biggest and most obvious radical departure is the way Crossley illustrates the birds. Most bird guides have drawings or paintings of birds isolated from their natural surrounding or close photographs that eliminate most of the background. The birds in these pages are very easy to see, but birds in the wild are rarely so cooperative. To model what he has seen in the wild, Crossley has taken samples from his vast collection of photographs and combined them to create highly-populated illustrations that may have dozens of images of a species in a single picture. The guidebook user finds, for instance, over thirty Red-breasted Mergansers in the picture on page 77. There are a female and male clearly visible on the water in the foreground and others young and mature birds diminishing in perspective back on the water to the distant marsh grasses. There are also birds flying near and far. Some are hardly identifiable, but that's the point. They are how you will really see them.

I notice the word "bird" is not on the title page anywhere, but on the cover are the words "Eastern Birds." I also notice the Pinyon Jay and the Clark's Nutcracker on page 307, both very western birds. 640 species are included. Maybe there is an eastern tilt.

The Crossley ID Guide is flexible and opens easily, but it seems a bit large for carrying into the field. Casual birders may not be willing to lug the guide, but dedicated students will adapt by using a big-enough pack. Its size might also encourage staking out good birding spot and less hiking about. It might be nicely kept at a sheltered blind. Public libraries with local bird enthusiasts will want a copy.

Crossley, Richard. The Crossley ID Guide. Princeton University Press, 2011. ISBN 9780691147789.

The Photographer: Into War-Torn Afghanistan With Doctors Without Borders by Emmanuel Guibert

Back in 1986, the U.S. public was not really paying much attention to Afghanistan. We had already boycotted the 1980 Moscow Olympics, and it had been as long since CBS news anchor Dan Rather had reported from the front where the Afghani Mujahideen were fighting Soviet soldiers. The valleys of Afghanistan were remote, mostly unknown in the West, and very dangerous. Among the few outsiders deep in the country were CIA spies, intrepid reporters, and the French volunteers of Medecins Sans Frontieres, known to the English-speaking world as Doctors Without Borders. Wanting the world to see the desperate need for humanitarian assistance, Medecins Sans Frontieres hired a young photographer, Didier Lefevre, to accompany a mission to Zaragandara in the Valley of Yaftal, in the northeast region of Afghanistan, near Tajikistan. It took more than a month to travel by donkey caravan from Peshawar in Pakistan through many mountain passes, many over 1600 feet. Lefevre took photos all the way.

In 2003, French graphic artist Emmanuel Guibert, his friend Lefevre, and colorist Frederic Lemercier published the first of three installments of Le Photographe, which combine Lefevre's original photographs with Guibert's drawings to tell of Lefevre's nearly-fatal adventure, a story that he had told only to his closest friends for years. It was not a story that he wanted shared as long as he intended to return to Afghanistan, which he often did before September 11, 2001. The English translation The Photographer: Into War-Torn Afghanistan With Doctors Without Borders was published to critical acclaim in 2009.

Now in 2011, after American and other NATO troops have spent nearly ten years in Afghanistan with little prospect of beating Taliban and Al-Qaeda forces, The Photographer is very relevant. Not much other the names of the foreign forces has really changed in the situation. In the book, Lefevre is almost naive in his outlook, committing himself to months of hardship for the sake of his profession. The poverty, prejudice, injustice, and sheer danger of the Afghani countryside only become apparent to him after he passes a point of no return. Through the pages of The Photographer, readers learn as Lefevre learns.

The drawings are easier to comprehend than the photos in some cases. They give the photos context. The photos give the book impact. It is a particularly effective presentation that should move many readers.

Guibert, Emmanuel. The Photographer: Into War-Torn Afghanistan With Doctors Without Borders. First Second, 2009. ISBN 9781596433755.

Long Way Home: On the Trail of Steinbeck's America by Bill Barich

Bill Barich had spent eight years living in Ireland when he came across a used copy of Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck. He remembered how impressed he had been with the book as a youth and how it contributed to his hippy days in California. Being a writer, he soon felt the call for a road trip to rekindle the spirit of his youth and reconnect with his homeland. And, of course, there would be a book, which has turned out to be Long Way Home: On the Trail of Steinbeck's America.

Barich chose, however, not to recreate Steinbeck's trip in detail. He would start from the East Coast and end on the West Coast, but the actual cities and highways would differ. Like Steinbeck, he would try to stick to the backroads and small towns as much as possible, but he did not have the unlimited time that the highly successful Steinbeck had. He could not afford a camper, either. And most importantly, he would not take a dog, despite the protests from friends that it was essential.

In the six weeks that Barich was on the road he did notice many dogs and sometimes in his loneliness wished that he had one. Not everything went well. Food and accommodations were bad. Some rural communities were depressed. He even began to sour a bit on Steinbeck at times, as he realized that Steinbeck did not always really try very hard to talk with the locals. But then he would find a place that he loved, such as Jefferson City, Missouri, where the people were friendly and he could walk in to the state capitol without a security check.

The 2008 presidential election and the bad economy serve as subplots during Barich travels. He talks to many people about their voting plans and even attends a Sarah Palin rally, where he talks to the political button salespeople. He is disturbed by the great number of people who pay more attention to the rumors than the actual facts. Unlike Steinbeck, he does not, however, despair over the political process and future of the country.

Long Way Home may appeal to readers who enjoyed Bill Bryson's I'm a Stranger Here Myself, another story of an expatriate's tour.

Barich, Bill. Long Way Home: On the Trail of Steinbeck's America. Walker & Company, 2010. ISBN 9780802717542.

Silent Visions: Discovering Early Hollywood and New York Through the Films of Harold Lloyd by John Bengtson

Twenty-first century news media seems to relish stories about cities allowing film producers to shoot blockbuster movies on their streets. The stories get feature billing in newspapers, and television news anchors promise on-the-spot reports to keep viewers watching to the end of their news programs. Having Matt Damon or Sandra Bulloch on your streets is a big deal. This does not just happen. Producers have to sign contracts with cities to allow use of the streets. Back in the 1920s, however, Harold Lloyd seems to have had ready access to Los Angeles streets, as can be seen in Silent Visions: Discovering Early Hollywood and New York Through the Films of Harold Lloyd by John Bengtson. First as a star for Hal Roach Studios and then as the head of his own company, Lloyd seems to have shot scenes all over Los Angeles, Hollywood, Beverly Hills, Culver City, and Long Beach in film after film. Then, in one of his most ambitious films Speedy, he took on Manhattan and Brooklyn.

I have never actually seen a Harold Lloyd film, and I have never been to Los Angeles or New York, so I found a lot to discover in Silent Visions. Harold Lloyd's granddaughter Suzanne Lloyd wrote a brief introduction, and film historian Kevin Brownlow added a two-page foreward, but biographical details are at a minimum in Silent Visions. Mostly Bengtson takes readers through a large number of film stills, historical images, and recent photographs to document how and where the films of Harold Lloyd were made. With few pages having less than five photographs, some having as many as ten, there must be far over a thousand illustrations in this 304 page book. With captions and the use of many arrows and circles, the author recreates the making of many key scenes.

While film students will find the work fascinating and instructive, people interested in 1920s Los Angeles and New York may benefit even more. Lloyd just shot the street scenes as they were with very minimal alteration to locations. Viewers of his films and readers of this book can see what buildings stood in the 1920s and even learn what businesses were at specific addresses. Many aerial views are included, showing the development of Los Angeles through the decade, when new numerous buildings were completed. Readers can also learn about social attitudes, occupations, transportation, fashion, and recreation of the time.

Of great interest to people who have seen Lloyd's films will be the sections on his daredevil stunts. There was no digital enhancing of the films in the 1920s. There were specially built sets on tops of buildings to make it appear Lloyd was hanging high over the streets and doubles were used on the actual climbing of walls, but Lloyd (who had already lost a thumb and finger when a fake bomb proved to actually have a charge) did still take considerable risks.

Of course, Lloyd was not the only star in Hollywood at the time. Bengtson also includes photos from films made by Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, the Little Rascals, and others using many of the same locations. There are even shots of Bruce Willis from the TV series Moonlighting with Willis high in the air above some of the same buildings.

With its great amount of detail requiring much looking and comparing, Silent Visions will get only glances from readers with casual interest in its subjects of film history and urban history. Those who are truly interested will see what an achievement the book is. It should be particularly popular in Southern California and in libraries buying film history.

Bengtson, John. Silent Visions: Discovering Early Hollywood and New York Through the Films of Harold Lloyd. Santa Monica Press, 2011. ISBN 9781595800572.

Church People: the Lutherans of Lake Wobegon with Garrison Keillor

The definition of the book is being questioned in these days of evolving electronic formats. What some of the debaters may have missed is the definition has been challenged before with audiobooks, first on cassettes and then on compact discs. Oral performance has allowed publishers some options that the printed page did not. Some texts are read like plays using a variety of voices, and music sets a background for some narratives. And publishers market these performances as books. Librarians have gone along. (We would have had to create a new category if we hadn't.)

While gardening on Friday morning, I listened to Church People: the Lutherans of Lake Wobegon with Garrison Keillor, which is a two disc collection of monologues, radio dramas, and songs from A Prairie Home Companion. I enjoyed it immensely but I hesitate to add it to my books-that-I-have-read list. I could say that it is a book because I found it in a "book" section of the library. It might also be compared with some literary collections, which might throw together theme-related magazine essays, poetry, humorous pieces, and plays. But I would feel like I am just padding my list. At 2.25 hours of listening, it is just over the length of a regular Saturday PHC show.

I guess it would help to settle the question "What is reading?" Some people say that listening to an audiobook is not reading. They would say that the reader's eyes have to fix on the words on a page. (Or fingers on braille characters.) That argument can be countered with the tradition of oral readings. People read stories to their children at bedtime. Lectors read to congregations at churches. Writing is an offshoot of oral narration, and the result of learning the story is the same.

It might also be pointed out that people who enjoy The Prairie Home Companion are for the most part bookish people. Keillor certainly revels in the use of words and often recites poems. So Church People: the Lutherans of Lake Wobegon is certainly in the spirit of a book - one that made me laugh frequently. But still I hesitate to label it so.

What do you think?

Keillor, Garrison. Church People: the Lutherans of Lake Wobegon. HighBridge Audio, 2009. 2 discs. ISBN 9781598879292

Weeding Biographies and Memoirs from the Library to a Tune from the Mikado

As some day it must happen that some books must be withdrawn
I've got a little list - I've got a little list
Of dreary, old, and tattered books that might well cause us to yawn
And that never would be missed - they never would be missed!

There are pestilential memoirs from loud politicos
Their long and suspect narratives will surely make you doze
And tales by business gurus who sail around in yachts
And adolescent rock stars who now have been forgot
And all the friends of friends who say they saw the starlet kissed
Their books would not be missed - they'd none of them be missed

(chorus)
He's got 'em on the list - he's got 'em on the list
And they'll none of 'em be missed - they'll none of 'em be missed

And there are Watergate conspirators who've enjoyed their prison times
And the lawyers who tried O.J. for his assorted crimes
There are television comedians who shows all got the ax
And haute cuisine chefs who now sell frozen snacks
Add long-haired bearded wrestlers to this distinguished list
Their books would not missed - they never would be missed

(chorus)
He's got 'em on the list - he's got 'em on the list
And we don't think they will be missed - we're sure they'll not be missed

And there are unauthorized biographies that now have grown quite stale
Kitty Kelley comes to mind - I've got her on the list
And tales about baseball players who should have gone straight to jail
These books are on the list - and they never will be missed
Annoying people, too - Rosie O'Donnell - Dennis Rodman - Jesse Ventura - and many more
Their times have all flit - now their books just sit - they'll none of 'em be missed

(chorus)
You may put 'em on the list - you may put 'em on the list
And they'll none of 'em be missed - they'll none of 'em be missed!

Librarian's Day at the Bristol Renaissance Faire

Was it Librarian's Day at the Bristol Renaissance Faire on Saturday, August 6? Bonnie and I went with our friends Nancy and Glenn. That's four librarians. We parted for a while, and Glenn later reported seeing three librarians that he knew from the suburbs of Chicago. At home in the evening I verified another wearing a T-shirt stating "librarian" in a photo of the Moonie show. I wonder how many more there were.

So, what draws librarians to a Renaissance fair? My first thought is fantasy. We read lots of books that take us to other worlds and enjoy going beyond the pages for a bit of magic and make-believe. What better place than the BRF? The performers, vendors, and much of the paying public are decked out as lords and ladies, knights, vikings, monks, witches, wizards, minstrels, and peasants from the time of Queen Elizabeth I. You also get a stray Klingon or hobbit, but no one seems to mind the disconnect. People speak like Shakespeare and pledge their loyalty to the queen. They even get up on horses and joust. What librarian would not want to be a part of the fun?

Knowing librarians, they are probably also drawn by the food and drink. Turkey legs, tempura, crepes, calzones, shepherd's pie, garlic mushrooms, fruit ices, and many confections are sale, as are all sorts of wines, beers, teas, and soft drinks. Servings are often good for sharing so you may try several dishes. I never go away hungry.

What I used to go for was the music. There used to be half a dozen stages at which musicians traded places every half hour. Madrigal singers wandered the fair. There was also a long table loaded with all sorts of recorders, crumhorms, lutes, whistles, and such under shady trees; musicians jammed all day. I would often spend most of my day listening to dance music and folk songs. That all seems to be gone, and I attend less regularly.

I was pleasantly surprised to find a shop with a great selection of early music compact discs, many of which were imported from the United Kingdom. There were entire shelves devoted to music of particular countries, periods, and instruments. I purchased discs on madrigals and consort music. The shop also had a big selection of board games based on events from history. Medici anyone? How about Armada?

Summer afternoons at the BRF can be rather hot, but there are many shady trees. Even the stands at the jousting field now have canopies. Cold drinks are readily available. With just the slightest breeze, it is a fine place to be.

La's Orchestra Saves the World by Alexander McCall Smith

Because I always seem to be getting behind, I try to keep a list of the Alexander McCall Smith books that I still want to read. I somehow missed adding La's Orchestra Saves the World in 2009. Because it is not in any of his mystery series nor is it one of his serialized novels, it is set apart in many ways. So I was curious when I found it on our library shelf, and I wanted to read it, of course.

All previous McCall Smith fiction seemed to be set in the present time, but La's Orchestra Saves the World is historical, set mostly in the late 1930s and during the second world war. Its central character La (short for Lavender) is a young woman who is saved from a disastrous marriage by her in-laws who see their son's errors. Given a cottage in rural Suffolk, La moves from London to make a new life. There she meets the local farmers, the policeman, the clergyman, the tradespeople, and eventually pilots who fight the German air invasion. Many of them join her amateur orchestra that pledges to play through the war. It is just the stuff of which many Masterpiece Theater dramas are made.

While many reviewers noted La's Orchestra Saves the World as a departure, many McCall Smith qualities still shine through the narrative, including his thoughtful descriptions of quiet moments and the gentle humor shared by compassionate people. I suspect many readers will enjoy this little gem.

McCall Smith, Alexander. La's Orchestra Saves the World. Pantheon, 2008. ISBN 9780307378385.

The Last Innocent Year: America in 1964 by Jon Margolis

Our country changed in many ways in 1964, according to Jon Margolis in his book The Last Innocent Year: America in 1964. He says there really was no innocence to lose, for there has always been a mean and selfish undercurrent in American culture, but it was the last year that our society could pretend that we were going happily working together to make a better world. Having read the book, I am not certain that he really supports this statement, but his book held my interest. I vaguely remember many of the events of that year - the first year that I remember dating my school papers.

Readers may be surprised to find that Margolis's year is not bound by the standard calendar concept of a year. He poses that 1964 really started on November 22, 1963 when President John Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas. On that day Jacqueline Kennedy became a widow, Robert Kennedy became the head of his clan, Lyndon Johnson was sworn into the office of president, and Barry Goldwater nearly decided to drop the idea of running for president. Nelson Rockefeller, Hubert Humphrey, Martin Luther King, and George Wallace were clueless to the transitions that they were about to make. The stage was set for the decline of the Democratic Party, a shift in the power in the Republican Party, the passing of the Civil Rights Act, a backlash against civil rights, the start of the Women's Movement, the disillusionment of college students, and radicalization of many in all parties. And in winter the Beatles landed at the newly renamed John F. Kennedy Airport in New York.

The central character is Lyndon Johnson. I was surprised to learn that he was only 55 years old when he was sworn in as president. I had always thought he was a really old man. Margolis portrays him sympathetically in the early chapters, but it seems that Johnson's good intentions declined as the months went by. He began to distrust his seemingly very loyal aides and long for approval from everyone he met. Robert Kennedy, on the other hand, seems to start low and improve as the book progresses. Most people profiled seem to have their strengths and weaknesses. The one person who seems to have no redeeming qualities is FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover.

I was also struck by how at the beginning of the presidential primary season, none of the major contenders had actually declared as a candidate. Few of the states had public primaries at the time, as caucuses of party regulars had control and often pledged their votes to "favorite son" candidates, who would later throw their votes to contenders in political deals made at the conventions. Johnson feared that his support would evaporate at the Democratic Convention, while the heavy-handed control exerted by the Goldwater forces to supress discussions during the Republican Convention played badly to the American public. Margolis's year ends with the election in November.

How winners can be losers and losers be eventual winners is the irony that Margolis explores in this fascinating book which will appeal to Baby Boomers and political history readers.

Margolis, Jon. The Last Innocent Year: America in 1964. William Morrow, 1999. ISBN 0688153232.

Gilbert and Sullivan's The Mikado in Iowa

Bonnie and I are just back from a five-day trip to Iowa and Minnesota. We had two reasons for the trip. The first was to see our daughter Laura in the University of Iowa Department of Performing Arts production of Gilbert and Sullivan's The Mikado at the nicely restored Englert Theater in downtown Iowa City. The second was to then move Laura to Minneapolis for her upcoming internship in music therapy. We succeeded in meeting both objectives.

Being proud parents, we did as we did for Laura's high school musicals and saw The Mikado three times. By the third performance, we knew well when Laura, a member of the chorus, was on stage. She was easy to spot in her yellow kimono, singing and dancing through many scenes. She had no lines, but she had moments, such as when she helped braid Yum-Yum's hair and when she danced with a long red ribbon. I was reminded of her years in ballet, tap, and rhythmic gymnastics.

Sitting in the first, second, and third rows, we had a great view of the staging and choreography. I liked the repeated decorative use of colorful fans in the backdrops. The stage was relatively small, but the set designer used what there was well. The company was a whirl of color as it deftly moved about from left to front and back and forth. Most impressive was their snapping of fans along to the music. Laura said there was a lot of fan practice. Making them snap was not hard because of their weight, but holding on with sweaty hands was a trick.

Three days later, I still have the songs running through my brain. The words are often quite silly (as is the plot) but the melodies are great. A highlight was the Lord High Executioner Ko-Ko's "I've got a little list" song, which by tradition is modified to include current and local subjects. There were many people who could be beheaded and not be missed, including the musical director for miscuing some notes, Donald Trump and Michele Bachmann for just being as they are, and anyone who stands behind TV reporters to wave.

We are back in Downers Grove now and returning to our everyday lives, but I think I'll have a little extra bounce as I hum Mikado melodies and recall fine performances.

The Unbearable Lightness of Scones by Alexander McCall Smith

A long time reader of this blog will have noticed that I enjoy books by Alexander McCall Smith. Fan that I am, I still sometimes get behind. I have just now finished listening to The Unbearable Lightness of Scones, the fifth of the 44 Scotland Street series books. As expected, I liked it very much. Six-year-old Bertie is still struggling with his overbearing mother who makes him take yoga, psychotherapy, and Italian lessons. He is still besieged by his annoying classmate Olive who is determined that he will be her boyfriend. The lass (this is a Scottish book) has even decided when they will marry and that she will dictate everything they do together. Bertie longs for escape and hope to find it in the Cub Scouts.

McCall Smith must have a lot of fun writing these books. He lovingly describes his city of Edinburgh and makes places along its streets the settings for much of the action. He gets to comment on many aspects of modern life that to him seem ridiculous - spending way too much for exotic wines, buying modern art, and being politically correct without really examining the reasons why. He even takes the liberty of working his friend, the real mystery writer Ian Rankin, into the plot. The author gives us much to think about while making us laugh.

The one hundred chapters of The Unbearable Lightness of Scones were originally run as a serial in The Scotsman newspaper. Each is short, and our attention is often diverted to other characters as McCall Smith weaves many stories together. The ending is a summation but not an end. The stories will all continue in later books, which I will undoubted read with joy.

McCall Smith, Alexander. The Unbearable Lightness of Scones. Recorded Books, 2009. 12 discs, 14 hours. ISBN 9781440731792.