The Conviction of Richard Nixon – Book Review

The Conviction of Richard Nixon: The Untold Story of the Frost/Nixon InterviewsThe Conviction of Richard Nixon: The Untold Story of the Frost/Nixon Interviews by James Reston Jr.
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Jon Stewart has made the argument in the past that he shares a legacy of satirist who over the years have had the unique position to ask the question that others can’t.

This is the thought that continued to creep up time and time again while I read this marvelous tale of an event that I knew hardly about but that meant so much to the American people in a time when answers were scarce from their former Commander and Chief.

James Reston Jr.’s recollection of the months prior to this interview of disgraced former President Richard Nixon is ripe with intrigue, drama and a retelling of the perils of underestimating an opponent.

Time and again I wished that today’s best satirist (like Stewart)would take on the challenge that current members of the journalistic community seem unable to take. To ask the hard hitting questions, to draw out truths with wit and seek candor from political figures who make a career from obscuring it.

I marvel at the height from with President Nixon fell but understand that he is not alone in sharing disgrace. The better story is how Frost and his team helped the President realize truths that perhaps he had never seen before.

A terrific read for our time.

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Pi Day 3/14/2014

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Enuff Said

Computer Thoughts

A computer meets a a man for the first time.

He’s regular. With average search habits.

The computer is unexcited for it knows that it can simply perform so much more.

The search are predictable.

Panicked search for jobs.
Panicked search for friends.
Panicked search for past friends.
Panicked search for existentialism.
Panicked search for new connections.
Panicked
Panicked
Panicked search for lust.
Panicked search for answers.
Panicked search for  truth.
Panicked search for Truth.

The computer would be confused but it does not question.

That is man’s lot……

To My Wife Before Valentine’s Day

I remember the first time I saw you walking into that college history class.

Looked forward to our first real date on the beach.
Our first kiss redefined what I would ever want in a pair of lips.
Volts of electricity shot up my back when you first said those “three” words.
Elated when you said yes and agreed to be my wife.

Yelled it from the rooftops each time you told me we’d have our babies.
Only think of our family when the challenges of life manifest.
Unwavering in my belief that there is so much good to come for us.

I LOVE YOU!

A Quick Review – The Story of Earth by Robert M. Hazen

The Story of Earth: The First 4.5 Billion Years, from Stardust to Living PlanetThe Story of Earth: The First 4.5 Billion Years, from Stardust to Living Planet by Robert M. Hazen
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

It is challenging to realize how little time “we” as people have spend on this planet and how “we” as a species take to squander the gifts nature provides. Thought the subject matters delves into the technical aspects of planet creation I found that the author’s passion for the subject make me want to turn to the next page and find out what happens next. The later chapters were the most impacting as they describe a planet where we are not likely to exist (in our present form) and how the cosmos could eventually fall to a darkness. A fantastic read.

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Hands

On a quiet Saturday afternoon at the age of eight I happened to find myself sitting next to my father who was reading the day’s newspaper in peace.

My chores were finished, dinner was minutes away from being served, my sisters were away enjoying the Berenstein Bears and for a moment the house sat still.

I can’t recall studying him so intently ever before but at this one opportunity  I took time to make a mental photograph of my father as a man.

For a few uninterrupted minutes I looked him over.

His mustache was thick and plentifull and each manicured bristle bore a brown sheen that in years later would fade and turn uniformly gray. His gaze was focused and his brown eyes darted back and forth with purpose as he scanned the headlines. Occasionally he sighed and I found it odd how similar his chest heaved in response to no-matter what was on the page.

His profile was stern. Like the clean lines of a hood ornament on a classic car who cut through the incoming wind with grace.  His upper body strong after years of hard work in a variety of jobs and thorough physical conditioning during his time in the Mexican police force.

Some impulse cause me to dart out my hand and take his. I needed to see it in contrast to mine, take note of its weight and feel the roughness of his work-man fingers.

For less than a minute I had my father’s hand in mine and then he gruffly pulled it back to turn the page.

—

My son sits at my side some times.

He enjoys placing my hands on his and brags that one day he’ll be taller than I.

I afford him the time he needs.

It is time I cherish too.

Remembering

I am sitting at a funeral service of a man I did not know well. A person who lived across the street from me for years but who I shared almost no words together.

A few rows in front of me a happy young man is holding up a piece of paper asking us to remember the life of the deceased. There’s a picture of him on this sheet and it would appear to me that this is the image his family has chosen as the best depiction of his person.
I can’t help but think of the future and what a document about me look like. What image would my loved ones choose as showig the essence of who I was?
What if I got to choose my own photo?
Of the hundreds of images that exist and the myriad of photos to come, which is the best example of my life as it was?
It’s inconsequential though and borders on the egotistical.
Still, I hope they choose a good one.