Some summer re-reading

About ten years ago, I read Ursula Le Guin's novel The Left Hand of Darkness for the first time and really enjoyed it. When I really enjoy a book, I try to get around to re-reading it. The LHOD is set on the planet Gethen, also known as Winter since the planet is in the midst of a period of glacial expansion. And what better time to pick the book up again than in the middle of one of the hottest Julys on record?

The Left Hand of Darkness is the story of Genly Ai, a representative of the Ekumen, a galactic federation of planets. He is an Envoy whose solo mission is to bring Gethen into the Ekumen.

The Left Hand of Darkness is also the story of Estraven, the prime minister of Karhide, one of the major kingdoms on Gethen. Estraven is one of the few people in power to accept Genly Ai's mission and attempts to help Ai.

Ten years ago, I was most struck by the novel's examination of gender: Gethenians are all the same sex, which is to say that they possess both male and female sex organs and everyone on the planet is capable of bearing children. (There's no hot Gethenian-on-Gethenian action in the novel so pervs needn't bother.)

Reading LHOD this time around, what struck me was the political intrigue. Estraven is labeled a traitor and forced into exile by the ambitious Tibe, who preys on the fears of Karhide's insecure king. Tibe becomes prime minister and to confirm his place in power threatens war with the neighboring nation of Orgoreyn. All of this depends upon dramatic appeals for national unity.

The best fiction -- whether it has "science" or any other modifier in front of it -- holds up a truthful mirror to reality. I couldn't help but think of things going on in our own planet when I read the following passage. Genly Ai suggests that Estraven hates Orgoreyn.

"How does one hate a country, or love one? Tibe talks about it; I lack the trick of it. I know people, I know towns, farms hills and rivers and rocks, I know how the sun at sunset in the autumn falls on the side of a certain plowland in the hills; but what is the sense of giving a boundary to all that, of giving it a name and ceasing to love where the name ceases to apply? What is love of one's country; Is it hate of one's uncountry? Then it's not a good thing. Is it simply self-love? That's a good thing, but one mustn't make a virtue of it, or a profession. Insofar as I love life, I love the hills of the Domain of Estre, but that sort of love does not have a boundary line of hate. And beyond that, I am ignorant, I hope."

Ignorant in the Handdara* sense: to ignore the abstraction, to hold fast to the thing. There was in this attitude something feminine, a refusal of the abstract, the ideal, a submissiveness to the given, which rather displeased me.

Yet he added, scrupulous, "A man who doesn't detest a bad government is a fool. And if there were such as thing as a good government on earth, it would be a great joy to serve it."

* a mystical Zen-like order that Estraven trained in as a young man.

Prepare to Meet Thy God

Exit 95, east of Little Sioux, Harrison County, Iowa

And if thy god is not at the off-ramp
When thou makest thine exit,
Fear not: Thy god shall find thee.

Look not for thy god in the abandoned Stucky's.
Thy god may be counting sparrows in the hills
or suckling fox kits in a ditch.
Your god's child is circling high above
and the Spirit rustles through the corn.

No preparation is ever wasted,
even if thy god should smite thee.
No person seeking is ever lost.

Have faith: thy god will surely find thee.
Prepare.

Dreamers

What a week. The heat finally broke, and all souls in Kansas City can breathe a sigh of relief. But it's worth remembering that the past week not only brought us two 100+ days but also KC's first-ever red ozone alert (the alert was red, not the ozone). Considering the fact that the majority of ground level ozone comes from the cars some many of us around here love to drive, we might take advantage of this brief cool spell to consider our transit options.

Early in the week, the Star's Steve Penn wrote a column comparing Smart Moves, a transit plan (or laxative) offered by the MidAmerica Regional Council with a plan backed by Clay Chastain.

Chastain has made news around here recently by returning from self-imposed exile in Tennessee to promote yet another light rail initiative for Kansas City. (He also managed to complicate things for local blogger Heidi recently one last time before she leaves town.)

I haven't read Chastain's plan but apparently in addition to light rail and electric shuttles it features gondolas that run from Penn Valley Park to Union Station. Apart from helpfully adding words like "funicular" to the local vocabulary, I can't see what purpose this would serve. Maybe if the cars were shaped like shuttlecocks...

Penn's take: Smart Moves doable but dull, Chastain crazy but creative (alliteration ladled by Lee). But isn't that always the way?

[By the way, no comparisons intended but seeing as there are wikipedia entries on Walt Bodine, Charles Wheeler and even Tech N9ne, I think it's high time somebody put together one on Chastain. Don't all volunteer at once.]

Transit is a guaranteed snoozer of a topic in Kansas City, but I boldly offer this link to a pre-blog Daytripper column.

It concerns another dreamer from long ago whose bronze backside is pictured above: William B. Strang. You might call him the father of Overland Park and by extension of the Johnson County suburbs where thousands wait everyday to turn left into a enormous parking lot.

Like Chastain, Strang was a man with big plans (and some pretty florid marketing). Back at the turn of the previous century, he built a movie studio, an aviation company and (more to the point) a commuter rail line to lure Kansas City residents out to homes in OP, KS.

That's right: public transit made our 'burbs what they are today. Moreover, when planned right, transit pays a community back with returns much better than an Olympics or a Superbowl or a World Series.

Scat cat

Having just a handful of superstitions myself, mostly in the realm of lucky underwear, I try to be charitable toward those held by other people. Never put a hat on a bed, for example, because some people (particularly stunt performers) think it means that someone will die. Don't whistle in a theater or say "Macbeth" around actors (even though it is fun to see them freak out - they're actors, after all). But even my own superstitions come with the phrase "if you can help it" attached.

Even so, what I saw driving home from work yesterday amazed me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a little black cat with a fancy collar headed for the street. I kept on going since it hadn't even made it to the curb by the time I passed. The car in the oncoming lane slowed to a stop. They're going to let the cat cross, I thought. How thoughtful. When I glanced in my rearview, their reverse lights were on. Then the car backed up half a block and into a driveway, turned around and headed the other direction. Hope they weren't late for the movie or dinner or vespers or whatever.

Now that, my friends, is committment to a superstition. Cue the Stevie Wonder...

A daytrip at last

C and I found ourselves with no commitments on the Fourth of July so we jumped in the car to fulfill our patriot duty to fossil fuel. We made it to Parkville and Excelsior Springs and back by way of Liberty, North Kansas City and the West Bottoms.

More pictures: Here's a link to the Flickr set.

Highlights -

The Power Plant Brewery in Parkville, particularly the Colonel Park's India Pale Ale. However: I ordered a club sandwich that came grilled, resulting in sort of a Club Melt. Not what I expected but I ate it all.

The Elms in Excelsior Springs which was beautiful and, like the rest of ES, felt pretty vacant. The hollow reminder of the town's past as a thriving resort town is sad to see. Still, if there's any money left by then, I plan to check into the Elm's for some pampering.

Paleteria Tropicana on Southwest Blvd. - I can't find a link for this but it's 4 doors down from the corner of Summit. The popcicles (paletas) are so good they make you want to cry (the mango-chile ones really will) and a satidfying end to any meal or daytrip.

We sat outside in the heat and listened to the neighborhood explode. With a cold paleta and a hot wife, it felt good to be an American.

He hates fireworks

Independence, Schmindependence. The Fourth of July is just a lot of racket when you're the little dog.

No image? No problem

Last month, J. Michael Mullis, a business consultant from Memphis spoke to area leaders (of the elected and business variety). Let us now picture the scene: While our civic elite picked at their chicken breast and rice pilaf, Mullis informed them that Kansas City didn't have a national image: "It's not negative. It's not positive. It's neutral." After a round of polite applause everyone went back to work all sullen, and Mullis and his consulting fee flew back to Memphis.

The Star saw this as an opportunity to engage (or pander to, depending onyour point of view) its readers and invited them to come up with a new slogan for Kansas City. Today, the results are in. Judging from the responses the paper chose to publish, none of these nice people will be receiving a call from Madison Avenue anytime soon. The responses also suggest that the locals are as foggy on KC's image as the rest of the country.

"We've come a long way since Lewis and Clark stopped by"
- True, but then the town wasn't actually here when they stopped by.

"Life's Good On The Prairie"
- If you're a well-tended cow, maybe. Most of us live in town now.

"Leave your hat, boots and spurs at home; Kansas City has come of age"
- Unless you're coming for the rodeo or one of our cowboy themed gay bars (or both), in which case you will need your tack (and condoms, for crying out loud).

"Kansas City: Friendly, cool and delicious"
- Especially good for attracting cannibals.

"Kansas City: From Cow Town to WOW! Town"
- A genuine cringer, although it does remind me of something the Albert Brooks character in Lost in America might say.

"Kansas City: The Center of the World" - Tellingly, this was suggested by a native of San Diego. Most southern Californians grow up believing that wherever they are is the center of the world and this seems to suggest that the sentiment travels wherever they go.

"Time to settle down? Better hurry before the rest of America finds us"
- Um, and just whom exactly are we addressing this to?

My (only half kidding) suggestion: "Kansas City: Shut up already and eat."

But seriously, did we really need to pay somebody from Memphis to tell us that we have no national image?

I really don't see Kansas City's lack of a national image as a problem. Companies and families planning to relocate look at statistics about crime and schools when they make their decisions, not marketing slogans. And before we go making KC attractive to tourists from the coasts, we should make sure it stays livable for those of us who already live here. I personally would trade a few rolling stadium roofs for working sewers.

We might take a page from KC history and get back to what made the area such a rip-roaring success back in the late 1800s: ripping off people passing through (gold diggers, settlers, Mormons) rather than being ripped off by suits from out of town on their way to the next consulting gig.