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Moore than words... Too Many Choices

By Gary Moore

    I was told the other day that we needed sweetener for our coffee.  As I pretended not to hear, I was looking straight at a full gallon of sweet milk sitting on the refrigerator door. The “pretending not to hear” must have worked because within seconds the request was made again. “We need sweetener for our coffee,” I was told with a little more emphatic tone. “No, we need sweetener like a Pottery Barn needs a men’s restroom. We don’t need sweetener and I am not going to get it,” I said to myself. I’m digging in.

            When I got to the store I couldn’t believe how many different brands and flavors of sweetener were there. I counted at least 34 different varieties. There was butter pecan and sweet cream and Irish cream and French vanilla and a couple of other European concoctions. I could have sworn I was smack dab in the middle of Georgia. Then there was something that looked like mud and tell me this, would you ever ruin a good cup of coffee with something called “pumpkin spice”?

            After I made my selection of the sweetener that we didn’t need I thought I might as well get some coffee while I was there. It was as bad as the sweet stuff. There was Jamaica blend and jamoca blend and trying to cure a hangover blend and what’s the difference in breakfast blend and bed and breakfast blend? Does it really matter where you drink it? I got to thinking, Ernie Vaughn at the Tasty Shoppe serves the best cup of coffee in town and I bet his is just coffee blend….with sweet milk.

            Before I left the store I eased over to the ice cream section which is now bigger than a box car. What happened to vanilla, chocolate and strawberry? I couldn’t even pronounce some of the flavors and take it from a fat boy. I ain’t eatin’ gingerbread ice cream. 

            As I started home I noticed a sign on one of the local chicken wing places proudly advertising 12 different flavors of wings. Ok, for the life of me I can’t come up with more than three or four so I’m pretty sure if you get down to choice number nine or ten you’re talking about road kill. I’ll stick with lemon pepper and call it a day.

            Everywhere I look I see more choices for stuff than we could possibly need. Have you gotten a new cell phone lately? There’s iPhones and smart phones and 3g and 4g and golly-gee. Aren’t they all pretty much all the same after you say, “hello”?

            Speaking of cell phones, I saw this gadget on TV the other day that you can stick your cell phone in while you are on the beach and it protects it from sand and water. Here’s a suggestion, leave the dang thing at home when you go to the beach.    

            While we’re talking about TV, we now have like 700 channels from which to choose. If you can name one show that is on the Bravo Channel I’ll give you a full gallon of mud slide ice cream.

            It gets better. One of the golf club manufacturers is now pushing a club that can be adjusted to 148 different angles, lofts and lies. I’ve played some bad golf in my day but I don’t think I’ve ever needed 148 different ways to hit a golf club. Most days I struggle to hit one club one way.

            In this world of “everyone’s a winner” and “let’s give’em all a trophy” we’ve created this train that can’t be stopped. Where it ends up nobody knows. There are too many choices.

 

Miscellany... Murder, She Wrote

By Rick Thurman

 

It’s not news to anyone who enjoys detective and mystery fiction that most of the really good novels have been written by women.  I’m not quite sure why women would be the ones whose minds seem to dwell upon complex plot twists, improbable perpetrators, and fiendishly clever methods of doing in a human being, but they have certainly garnered the lion’s share of awards for mystery writing.

            Very likely the name of Agatha Christie comes to mind first when one thinks of murder mysteries.  Indeed, she was perhaps the most prolific of all mystery writers, and she remains among the most popular even today.  Her books—whether about Hercule Poirot, Jane Marple, or Tommy and Tuppence Beresford—have never gone out of print.  They are also the basis of countless movies and television dramas.

            Another name that comes to mind is P. D. James.  She created the police inspector named Adam Dalgliesh, who appears in 14 novels that James wrote between 1962 and 2008.  She is 92 now, but less than two years ago she wrote yet another novel; this one is entitled “Death Comes to Pemberley,” in which Elizabeth Bennett Darcy, the heroine of Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice,” solves a murder at the estate she now shares with her husband, Mr. Darcy.

            But I set out to write about two other women novelists who have lately impressed me.  One of these is Donna Leon, an American who lives in Venice, where she taught for many years.  All of her novels are set in that ancient city, and they all reflect her extensive knowledge of the streets and canals of Venice.  Her detective, Commissario Guido Brunetti, of the Venice police force, appears in 22 novels she has written about his career in bringing Venetian criminals to justice.  This series began with “Death at La Fenice,” which is set in the principal opera house of Venice.  The German conductor dies a painful death from cyanide in his coffee during an intermission in a performance of Verdi’s “La Traviata.”  It is up to Brunetti to make his way through the murky world of opera singers and their egos to find the killer.  Another of Leon’s novels that I have enjoyed is “Through a Glass Darkly,” which is set in a glass factory and offers, as a clue, an annotated copy of Dante’s “Inferno.”  I’ve also read with pleasure “Blood from a Stone,” which involves the death of an immigrant working in Venice’s underworld of fake fashion retailing.  It would appear at first that the man was killed by some jealous rival tradesman, but as Brunetti probes further, he uncovers sinister forces at work.  I’ve already ordered a copy of her most recent book, and I’m looking forward to reading it, as well as her 18 other novels that lie ahead of me!

            And then most recently I’ve discovered the Canadian novelist Louise Penny.  A former journalist for the Canadian Broadcasting Company, she now devotes full time to writing novels about Chief Inspector Armand Gamache, of the Homicide Division of the Criminal Investigation Department of Quebec.  So far, she has written eight novels about Inspector Gamache, and many of these have won some of the most prestigious awards for mystery writing.  I have read only one of these (the fact that I just finished reading it may explain why I’m writing on this topic), a novel entitled “The Brutal Telling,” about an old man found murdered in an idyllic village in the forest south of Montreal.  I can say with enthusiasm that if this one is typical of her novels, she writes in the classic vein of “cozy” murder mysteries, and I am looking forward to reading more of her works.

            If you are a mystery novel fan and are not yet acquainted with either Donna Leon or Louise Penny, I warmly recommend their novels to you.

 

DA’s Corner...Courthouses Inspire Reverence

By Scott Ballard

Do you remember when everybody stood at attention whenever they heard the National Anthem?  Now, while most of us stand with our hands over our hearts and tears in our eyes, many others seem perturbed that they are expected to stand at all.  It’s just one example of the erosion of reverence in our country.

            Dictionary.com defines “reverence” as “a feeling or attitude of deep respect tinged with awe.”  It’s not as common a commodity as it used to be.  People burn the flag of the United States of America as if it were a worn out rag.  Nothing seems to be off limits for jokes on late-night television.  Even the Pope has become a punchline.

            Don’t get me wrong.  Irreverence is, and should be, protected by the First Amendment to which we should also pay reverence.

            Still, it is refreshing to me when communities display old-fashioned reverence. 

            A shining example is the courthouse.

            In many communities it serves as the center of town.  All roads lead to it and circle around it.  The lawns surrounding the courthouse often have statues of heroes the town has honored for decades.  Green historical markers boast of highlights from the past that cause pride to well up within the hearts of citizens.  Memorials surround many courthouses as tributes to veterans who sacrificed their lives in combat.

            When I was a child and I told somebody that I was from Fayetteville, I always followed that by saying, “We have the oldest active courthouse in Georgia.”  We all did.  And the listener would at least feign interest.  Reverence for the courthouse was expected.

            Many counties include an image of the courthouse in their logo.  Spalding County does.  So does Fayette.  And Upson.

            Viewed from the road, no courthouse is more beautiful than the one in Pike County.  Built in 1895, it has a long and colorful history.  Did you ever see the movie “Murder in Coweta County”?  It was filmed in the Pike County Courthouse.

            Now that refurbishing is complete, it is as beautiful on the inside.  It is ready for many more decades of service to the citizens.  Citizens who have every reason to be proud.  Citizens who need no lessons from anyone regarding time-honored virtues.

            Like reverence.