Ramblin' with Roger

Let’s party like it’s 1812!

Interestingly, both Canada and the United States “emerged from the War of 1812 with a heightened sense of national feeling and solidarity, having repelled multiple…invasions.”

In 1976, there was this big bicentennial celebration of the United States Declaration of Independence from Great Britain. Currently, the country is in the midst of the sesquicentennial of various events during the American Civil War.

But what is being planned for the bicentennial of the War of 1812, which started on June 18? I’ve heard nothing, quite possibly because almost no American understands exactly what the heck it was all about.

The Americans declared war in 1812 for several reasons, including “trade restrictions brought about by Britain’s ongoing war with France, the impressment of American merchant sailors into the Royal Navy, British support of American Indian tribes against American expansion, outrage over insults to national honour after humiliations on the high seas and possible American desire to annex Canada.” The British first engaged in military rope-a-dope, which allowed the US to gain “control over Lake Erie in 1813, seize parts of western Ontario, and end the prospect of an Indian confederacy and an independent Indian state in the Midwest under British sponsorship.”

But once the British dealt with Napoleon in 1814, the British adopted a more aggressive strategy, sending in three large invasion armies.” And if Americans know ANYTHING about the war, it is from this latter period. “The British victory at the Battle of Bladensburg in August 1814 allowed them to capture and burn Washington, D.C.” The image we have is of First Lady Dolley Madison saving the picture of George Washington from a burning White House.

“American victories in September 1814 and January 1815 repulsed all three British invasions in New York, Baltimore, and New Orleans.” Baltimore, of course, is where Francis Scott Key wrote the words to the Star-Spangled Banner, inspired by seeing the flag shown above. And New Orleans was codified in an old Johnny Horton song called The Battle of New Orleans [LISTEN!].

Interestingly, both Canada and the United States “emerged from the war with a heightened sense of national feeling and solidarity, having repelled multiple…invasions,” Canada from the US, and the US from Britain. This led, in the US, “a sense of euphoria over a ‘second war of independence’ against Britain. It ushered in an ‘Era of Good Feelings’ in which partisan animosity nearly vanished.” It also seemed to codify the “manifest destiny” drive to go “from sea to shining sea,” to quote a different American anthem.

At some level, it is this war that made a squawking bunch of states into a nation, back in the days when Congress actually declared war.
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The Year 1812, Festival Overture in E flat major, Op. 49, popularly known as the 1812 Overture…[was] written by Russian composer Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky in 1880 to commemorate Russia’s defense of Moscow against Napoleon’s advancing Grande Armée at the Battle of Borodino in 1812. Interesting that music [LISTEN!] associated with the defeat of the erstwhile ally of the US has become a staple of US 4th of July celebrations.

40 Years Ago – June 14, 1972: Purgatory

For several seconds, I believe that I have died, and that the people around me are part of the Judgment.

After I was arrested and convicted of trespassing at the IBM Poughkeepsie (NY) plant, one or both of the Okie’s parents decided that it was either them or me; the fact was that the Okie’s dad worked at the nearby IBM Kingston plant. The particulars are now fuzzy, but somehow, my parents agreed to have my girlfriend stay at their house in Johnson City, NY that summer, where they had just moved from neighboring Binghamton. she was staying in the room of one of my sisters. (More on that eventually.)

The thing was that the only job I could find was at IBM Endicott, and while I don’t believe it was involved in the same war program as IBM Poughkeepsie, it was the same multinational. Nagged by one of my father’s friends, and perhaps the Okie, I went to work there about June 5. Unlike the previous summer, where I had three different tasks to do, I had this one job ALL night involving putting clips on circuit boards – boring doesn’t begin to describe it.

I don’t recall how I got to work every day, but at least on Wednesday, June 14, I hitchhiked. I got picked up by a guy named Charlie. I didn’t know him but he knew my father and recognized me in him. He drops me off at a corner, and I open the door then…

As I learned later, this woman who had some arthritic condition in her leg, and had high-risk insurance, as a result, plowed into the rear of Charlie’s car at 35 mph because her leg could not reach the brake. Charlie’s car was pushed forward into the car in front of his, but since the car in front was much heavier than Charlie’s, it threw us back. Charlie was of course in the driver’s seat, but I was halfway out of the car and was knocked unconscious.

Some period later, I am lying on the sidewalk and there are a bunch of people standing around me in a circle. For several seconds, I believe that I have died and that the people around me are part of the Judgment. But is it heaven or hell? Then I hear an ambulance in the background, and I realize that I am still in Endicott, which is more like purgatory.

We get transported to a nearby hospital. At some point, one or both of my parents arrive, as does the Okie, who burst into tears. She’s crying because she is glad I’m OK. I THINK she’s crying because my face was a ghastly, swollen mess, which, IMO, it was.

I was in the hospital a day and a half. I remember one night, my pillow fell off the bed, and I had to ring a nurse because my shoulder was too sore to pick it up.

Friday, my father picked me up and took us home. What I remember most was the Union-Endicott High School football field filling up because of all the rain we had received from Hurricane Agnes. I spent a week home, and then a week at work.

Friday, June 30, my mom, the Okie, and my sisters picked me up from work. Usually, I worked from 5:12 p.m. until 4 a.m. – 10 hour-days were the norm – but we were getting a long weekend, so I got out at 2 a.m. We went grocery shopping. I was carrying a fairly light bag with my left arm when suddenly, it just gave out. Fortunately, I was able to catch it with my right arm.

For the next six weeks, I ended up doing physical therapy and probably worked a couple more weeks in the end.

The thing is: it was wrong, FOR ME, to have worked at IBM that summer. I don’t want to say I was punished by God in the accident, but metaphysically/spiritually/whatever, it was just bad karma. And it only would get worse.

V is for a Virginia Slave Law

Based on the age of Blair Underwood’s ancestor, and the age of the slaves, it was believed that the slaves were likely his parents or other relatives.

The one television program the Daughter and I watch together is an NBC show called Who Do You Think You Are? It involves stars looking back at their genealogy. An episode we saw recently featured actor Blair Underwood, which I hope you can find here or here or here at the third notch 21 minutes in, with him walking down the steps.

What Underwood discovers is that one of his ancestors at the end of the 18th century, Samuel Scott, actually owns property in Virginia. He is distressed, though, to discover that Scott also owns two slaves! Well, until the researcher he is with explains to him the Virginia Slave Law of 1806 [Shepherd, Statutes at Large, III, 252; passed January 25, 1806]: “The General Assembly moved to remove the free Negro population from Virginia with a law that stated that all emancipated slaves, freed after May 1, 1806, who remained in the Commonwealth more than a year, would forfeit his right to freedom and be sold by the Overseers of the Poor for the benefit of the parish. Families wishing to stay were to petition the legislature through the local county court.”

This was known as a manumission law by which someone who was a free black could be enslaved, or re-enslaved. Based on the age of Scott, the ancestor, and the age of the slaves, it was believed that the slaves were likely his parents or other relatives, protected by the “peculiar institution” rather than being forced to leave the state, or worse.
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It appears that modern-day Virginia is now involved with a new Jim Crow attitude:

Virginia knows it has DNA evidence that may prove the innocence of dozens of men convicted of crimes they didn’t commit. Men just like [Bennett] Barbour. So why won’t the state say who they are?

“Bennett Barbour was convicted in 1978 of a rape he didn’t commit…The Commonwealth of Virginia learned that Bennett Barbour was innocent nearly two years ago when DNA testing cleared him of the crime. Virginia authorities, however, never informed Barbour of his innocence.” An irritating story.

ABC Wednesday – Round 10

Descent into Madness Meme

If I slept well, I almost never remember my dreams. If I had off-and-on sleep, I remember my dreams.

There was a two-part Madness meme on Sunday Stealing: Part 1 and Part 2. I’ve eliminated questions I didn’t feel like answering, such as “Have you ever licked the back of a CD to try to get it to work?”

2. What’s the largest age difference between yourself and someone you’ve dated?

16.5 years.

3. Ever been in a car wreck?

Two, one that sent me to the hospital.

4. Were you popular in high school?

Not initially. I was in a group of outsiders that opposed the war in Vietnam in 1968. But by 1970, I was student government president, my friend Carol was VP, and the mood of the school, the community, and the country had changed.

5. Have you ever been on a blind date?

No.

7. Do you have any friends that you’ve known for 10 years or more?

I have friends I have known for 50 years, including the aforementioned Carol.

13. Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?

12th grade English.

17. What would your last meal be before getting executed?

Lobster and steak.

20. Beer, wine or hard liquor?

Hardly any at all these days. That said, not beer, because I never acquired a taste for it. White wine over red, because the red gives me wicked headaches. A number of hard liquor items, but NOT Scotch or vermouth.

21. Do you have any phobias?

Yes.

28. What do you do as soon as you walk in the house?

Take off my shoes.

29. Do you like horror or comedy?

There’s enough horror in the world.

31. Where do you want to live when you are old?

In a walkable community, with a grocery store, drug store, and movie theater nearby. Someplace with good mass transit to the educational facilities in the region.

34. What did you dream of last night?

If I slept well, I almost never remember my dreams. If I had off-and-on sleep, I remember my dreams, but it gets so mixed up with my awake consciousness, I quickly forget.

35. What is your favorite sport to watch?

I like watching football, and especially baseball because I can read the newspaper at the same time. Whereas basketball requires far more concentration than I have time for.

36. Are you named after anyone?

No.

40. Do you sing in the shower?

Not consciously. Which is to say: probably.

43. Would you ever get plastic surgery?

Only if I had had a terrible scarring accident or illness. Not for general aging.

Obviously, I need a couple of Madness songs:
Our House
It Must Be Love
One Step Beyond

Everyone else has a great Ray Bradbury story

My wife decided to re-read Fahrenheit 451 because she thought it was getting to be too close to prophecy.

Someone who knew Ray Bradbury, the writer who died last week, noted in Salon magazine: “Ray was the last living member of a “BACH” quartet — writers who transformed science fiction from a pulp magazine ghetto into a genre for hardcover bestsellers[, along with] Isaac Asimov, Arthur Clarke, and Robert Heinlein…”

My buddy Steve Bissette “heard the news of his passing as I drove… Instantly, a flood of memories—entire passages of Bradbury short stories I first read when I was 11 and 12, his novels, the movies from his tales—rushed through, and I had to turn off the radio to let them come. Ray made us all one of his ‘book people’ from FAHRENHEIT 451, I reckon… all I know is he changed my life, and (along with Lovecraft) instilled the desire to write, which I do every single day of my life.” He shared a link: Ray Bradbury- Story of a Writer (1963); “Bradbury in his prime—and when all the world, it seemed, was his oyster. The man until his death, and that is something more for all of us to aspire to.”

Here’s a story of Ray Bradbury spending three hours slathering the 15-year-old Mark Evanier with advice about writing. Neil Gaiman shares the story of an aspiring writer of age 11 or 12, getting the same kind of time and advice from Ray.

You can watch an hour of Bradbury addressing (mostly) new writers at the Sixth Annual Writer’s Symposium by the Sea in February of 2001. Or read tweets by celebrities.

And what do I have? Just a bunch of Bradbury-penned old episodes of Alfred Hitchcock, plus a classic Twilight Zone episode, which I saw before I even knew his name, and reading a bunch of his short stories, often seeing them adapted into other media.

Plus this: my wife decided to re-read Fahrenheit 451 because she thought it was getting to be too close to prophesy. She borrowed a book from a teaching colleague. But just before she finished it, she dropped the book into a mud puddle. So, separately, she and I bought replacement copies. We kept the one; seems like a book we ought to have on the shelf.