Who are you, really?

Being a teenager had its ups and downs, but now I look back in envy at how thin I was, how much energy I had, and how little responsibility I actually had for anything.  Still, I'm not sure I'd go back even if it were possible.  I remember worrying too much about what others thought of me and how I dressed, or what they'd think if I changed the way I combed my hair – not that I ever had enough guts to do anything that would have made me stand out.  Of course, you eventually realize nobody was thinking much about you at all – they were thinking about themselves and probably worrying about the same things.  But as a teenager you're affected greatly by others, and if you're lucky you've got a supportive family and good friends, because at that age that's about the extent of your world.  And it's why family and friends are so often an important part in "coming of age" novels (which aren't always as bad as that label sounds).

In Out of Reach by V. M. Jones, thirteen year-old "Pip" McLeod hates going to his soccer games.  He's not a bad player, but he's not as good as his older brother.  But what makes it unbearable is his dad, who's one of those obnoxious parents who yells and complains about every call.  But when Pip accidentally sneaks into the brand new sports center down the street before it opens, he finds a room with climbing walls and – before he realizes what he's doing – climbs to the top without any ropes and finds a sport where he's a natural.  He even starts going by "Phil" at the gym, but his friends and family don't know about this other person he's becoming.

This is a book that really speaks to the teenager inside and some of the teenage challenges.  Pip/Phil is especially likeable and you really feel for him, whether it's the discomfort with soccer and his dad or the awkward one-sided romance with the girl next door.  In some ways the story is a bit cliché with only slight variations on the hero, the girl, and the bully.  I couldn't help but think of "The Karate Kid," but it's still a well-written and easy read with a satisfying ending.  The New Zealand setting added interest, too.

In Twerp by Mark Goldblatt, Julian Twerski did something that got him suspended from school for a week. His teacher, Mr. Selkirk, allows him to keep a weekly journal (of sorts) in place of writing a report on Shakespeare's Julius Caesar with the caveat that he eventually has to address the incident. And so we read of his friends, including the clever and oft-manipulative Lonnie, and his worries of remaining the fastest kid in school. He writes a love letter for a friend, but it doesn't quite work as planned and causes problems neither of them saw coming. He makes some new friends and learns to appreciate the advice of an older sister. And even though it's set in 1969 Queens, New York, it isn't heavy on nostalgia or so out of place that contemporary readers won't be able to relate.

This absorbing read seems to be about the stupid mistakes we make growing up, but there's an undercurrent of bullying as well.  Not the heavy-handed kind that usually comes to mind, but the subtle and more typical influence of a peer.  In this case, peer pressure combined with passive personalities results in an ugly incident we eventually learn about.  The ending, however, fell flat for me – leaving me feeling a bit... I guess "troubled," might be the most appropriate word. It's not an unhappy ending, but it's not very satisfying, either.  I didn't find Julian as likeable as Phil/Pip, but it's still a well-written book and I found myself compelled to finish it in just a couple of days.

Both books have a small amount of profanity and some juvenile crassness but are otherwise pretty clean, and are an interesting look at what sometimes makes us who we are.  (I received advance copies from Amazon Vine.)

'Inspiration for a grubby world'

I have vague memories of seeing the Air Force Thunderbirds perform once when I was a kid – I think it might have been for the Utah State Fair.  And while it was thrilling to watch, I didn't think much about it again until several years ago when I was offered tickets to sit in the Oracle booth at the Miramar Air Show near San Diego.  It was awesome!  Not only did the Thunderbirds (F-16s) perform but lots of other cool jets as well.  If you've never seen (and heard!) a Harrier jet take off and land vertically, you've missed something truly amazing.  I've gone to Miramar again and the air show at Edwards AFB and seen the Navy's Blue Angels, F-18s and F-22s, the B-2 Stealth Bomber, old WWI era bi-planes, P-51 Mustangs, and lots of others, but my favorites are still the Thunderbirds.  I just think the F-16 is the coolest (although the P-51 Mustang comes a very close second).

We probably take it for granted that we can fly across the country in a few hours or halfway around the world in the better part of a day.  Travel by air is commonplace now, but it wasn't always so.  In the early days of aviation, airplanes were for daredevils to entertain in barnstorming shows.  Even after the First World War, few in America thought the airplane had much use, even in the military.  But one who saw its great potential was Eddie Rickenbacker, America's most successful "flying ace" from WWI with 26 enemies shot down.  He later went on to influential roles in developing America's air industry, and even used his fame to inspire pilots in WWII during which he crashed in the Pacific Ocean with a group of others and spent 24 days drifting in lifeboats until they were rescued.

The Aviators: Eddie Rickenbacker, Jimmy Doolittle, Charles Lindbergh, and the Epic Age of Flight by Winston Groom profiles three of the most influential aviators in history.  Doolittle saw that airplanes could never become truly effective as long as pilots had to fly by their own observations, especially when limited by fog and clouds.  He was the first to take off and land blind in a canvas-covered cockpit, using only rudimentary instruments.  He later led America's response to the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor with the "Doolittle Raid," where American planes bombed Japan in April 1942 – a raid that had very far-reaching implications and was the beginning of turning the tide in the war.  And Charles Lindbergh is famous for being the first person to fly from New York to Paris in his plane "The Spirit of St. Louis," but his contributions during WWII are seldom known or remembered.

Winston Groom has written a fascinating and superbly readable triple biography of these inspirational men.  His accounts of Rickenbacker's exploits in WWI dogfights and the crashes he endured and especially Doolittle's Raid put you on the edge of your seat and are hard to put down.  Lindbergh's historic flight is every bit as exciting, and the kidnapping of Lindbergh's child is emotionally wrenching to say nothing of the trials he faced with the paparazzi of his day.  My only complaint is that by alternating among the three men they easily blended together (being so similar to begin with) and I found it hard to mentally keep track of and remember their individual accomplishments.  Also, the book is so highly praising and inspiring that I couldn't help feel that part of the story was being glossed over.  Groom addresses this in the final pages by saying "I don't know why it is these days that this dirty linen has to be aired... about otherwise decent and interesting people, but the public seems to demand it."  I agree with him but it doesn't make for a very balanced read (also some might simply reject it as hagiography); nonetheless, he briefly mentions some of the shortcomings of these otherwise inspiring heroes (and his explanation of some of Lindbergh's less inspiring behavior and comments prior to WWII was entirely reasonable).  But I still found it a fun and exciting read.

Unfortunately for me, I'm the only one here who still likes to go to an airshow.  The boys went to a few with me but have kind of moved past that, and the girls have no interest whatsoever.  And it would be kind of lame to go by myself.  Oh well...

My wife's in love with another man

In marriage there are different standards for the husband than there are for the wife.  For instance, if I were ever so foolish as to say I thought an actress or other woman was beautiful, I would soon hear a lengthy list of all that woman's defects and faults (followed by my own, of course).

In contrast, I have long had to endure my wife's infatuation with Ben Affleck. But the latest crush is Brandon Flowers, the singer for The Killers. Even worse, he's actually a really nice guy, not just some shallow Hollywood meathead dating a bunch of shallow Hollywood bimbos. For the past couple of weeks we've had to listen to repeated playings and kitchen performances of the song "Runaways" – and when you watch that music video pay attention to the way he grabs his jacket because he's especially cute then, or so I've been told a few dozen times.

Unfortunately, it's not as cute to grab your jacket like that when you're not wearing leather and singing in a music video. But at least my daughters have come to my defense a few times.

"I have to defend him. There's no one else."

Franz Ferdinand is one of those footnotes of history; the guy whose assassination sparked World War One.  If you scratch a little deeper you find that his wife was also killed by the gunman and you might read that he wasn't especially popular.  And yet the deeper truth behind those bland facts is infinitely more interesting than you might imagine.

His uncle, Franz Josef, was emperor of Austria Hungary and the latest in a long line of Habsburgs to rule, stretching back hundreds of years.  His own sons died after short lives of riotous living, and Franz Ferdinand became next in line when his father (brother to Franz Josef) died.  Franz Ferdinand was different, however; deeply religious in word and deed and suspected of harboring liberal ideas.  Suspicions against him only increased when he chose Sophie Chotek, a beautiful Bohemian princess, as his wife.  It was decided by those in authority that she was not from a sufficiently elevated background as he (“don’t let her think she’s one of us”) and when he insisted upon marrying her, his enemies (including Franz Josef) forced concessions upon him.  It was a "morganatic" marriage and neither Sophie nor her children would have any claim to succession of the crown.  

The pettiness of the royal court knew no bounds, however, and many took it upon themselves to continually heap humiliations upon the couple, such as forbidding her to sit with him at official gatherings and making her enter a room last and without an escort.  By all accounts, Sophie bore it quietly even while gossips painted her as a scheming and vengeful woman.  Franz Ferdinand took the insults harder but found refuge in home life and the couple doted lovingly on their three children, finding solace from the imperial court in family and each other.

Greg King and Sue Woolmans paint a very sympathetic portrait of Franz and Sophie, detailing the shameful and petty snobbery of the Habsburgs in The Assassination of the Archduke: Sarajevo 1914 and the Romance That Changed the World.  And they explain in exciting detail the events leading up to that fateful day in Sarajevo.  They discuss the official ineptitude that enabled the assassination to occur, but do not give undue attention to the conspiracy theories that it was more than a terrorist plot – there's just not enough evidence to draw any solid conclusions.  In spite of the knowledge of what happened in 1914, I found myself wishing for a different outcome and almost shouting "don't go!"  The account of the assassination is almost painful to read!  King and Woolmans follow up with the children's lives, including the continuing insults and both sons spending many brutal years in Nazi concentration camps.

I'm certainly no expert in the history of the time, but I felt King and Woolmans did an excellent (and heavily documented) job of making their case that Franz and Sophie have been unfairly treated by history.  If nothing else, the peaceful home life they established and the dignified way they raised their children stands in sharp contrast to the commonly accepted opinion.  It must count for something that the man who might have been king married for love in the face of severe persecution.  Who knows what might have happened if he'd lived, but I enthusiastically recommend this book. (I received an advance copy of this book from Amazon Vine.)

We're still listening to the monster's story

I've probably already mentioned this but when I was around 8 or 9 years old I got interested in movie monsters. This was back in the mid to late 70s before VCRs and "On Demand" when we were limited to a few channels on TV.  If you wanted to see those old movies you had to stay up late on Friday nights to watch "Nightmare Theater" (because it took all the fun out of it to show them during the day).  The problem was that I was too afraid to stay up alone and my parents were too tired to stay up late.  But now I think those old movies are kind of fun to watch with the kids because they're not overly scary.  Unfortunately, my kids have turned into teenagers (which is even scarier!), and now my family thinks those movies are outdated and boring and lame – and I get persecuted if I want to watch them.

When I was a teenager I read some of the books that inspired those old movies and I recall being disappointed with Mary Shelley's Frankenstein because it wasn't much like the movie's story as I understood it.  So with my nostalgic fondness for those old movies I thought Frankenstein: A Cultural History by Susan Tyler Hitchcock (doesn't she have a great name for a book like this?) was interesting because she presents all the different iterations of the story and how it changed over the years.

Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin came from a very liberal background and was only 18 years old and pregnant with her second child by writer Percy Shelley when she got the idea for the story late one night when a bunch of literati challenged each other to come up with a horror story.  (Bram Stoker's Dracula came from that same challenge.)  Percy Shelley (which is a pretty wimpy name for a guy) was a regular cad, who had abandoned his wife and 2 children for the teenage vixen Mary (he finally married her after his first wife killed herself).  Mrs. Hitchcock explains the background of the story and the influences that shaped it: Milton's Paradise Lost, a growing knowledge of anatomy, the popular experiments using electricity to animate dead bodies, etc.  She goes on to describe the various stage productions that soon followed and how they modified the story by adding the creepy assistant and the idea of lightning bringing the creature to life. Before long politicians started using the name, and it didn't take long before "Frankenstein" had become blurred in the public consciousness: was Frankenstein the doctor or the monster?  But it was actor Boris Karloff who gave us the most enduring image in Universal's tremendously successful 1931 film (and Hollywood discovered that sequels could be very profitable).  Incidentally, Mrs. Hitchcock says that Bela Lugosi – who became a huge star after his performance in Dracula – turned down the role of the monster because it was largely a non-speaking part.  (Lugosi learned his lesson and said yes when offered the role in the 5th sequel in 1943, Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man.)

When I read this a few years ago I was looking for something "different," and this was perfect.  It's a very interesting book filled with photos and illustrations that discuss the many ways Frankenstein became a part of our culture.  Even today, the name is used in scientific issues such as cloning and genetically-modified  "Frankenfoods."  So, whether you're interested in literature (the book finally gained literary respect in the 1970s and 80s), modern culture, or just the monster himself, it's pretty entertaining. 

If you need anything, just scream

When the school day was done – back when I was a kid, of course – I was outta there as fast as possible.  It wasn't so much that I didn't like school but more that I didn't like being at school after hours.  Once the hallways and playgrounds emptied and the noisy chatter died away, I found the whole place to be downright creepy – in a 'not good' sort of way.  But I do have some 'good creepy' memories of my elementary school.  I remember we always had a pre-Halloween carnival with games and costumes and food (it was probably a PTA fundraiser and the only time you'd have found me there after hours).  I also remember my cool 6th grade teacher, Mr. Spjute, absolutely loved Disney's "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow," and we must have watched it a dozen times that year.  I also remember, as a much younger kid, reading the Georgie books about the shy little ghost who creaked the stairs and squeaked the front door so Mr. and Mrs. Whittaker knew it was time to go to bed.  But if your kids are too old for Georgie maybe I can offer some other recommendations (all of which I received from Amazon Vine).

The R. L. Stine books came after my time but I've seen some of the "Goosebumps" shows and decided to give The Creatures from Beyond Beyond a try.  It's about twins Randi and Tyler who find their summer vacation home to be boring – except for an off-limits closet and a life-like doll that grows and running for their lives from aliens!  The writing was worse than I expected and the plot was thin and the dialog cheesy, so maybe I didn't miss much.  But the author seems to have lots of fans and it was rather creepy.

A much better choice turned out to be Home Sweet Horror (Scary Tales) by James Preller.  The first in this new series features a retelling of the "Bloody Mary" story.  Liam Finn moves to a new town with his sister and dad after his mother's death. The old house they buy needs of a lot of repairs but no repairman in town is willing to come out. In fact, the only advice they get is that the house is evil. And before long, the house itself seems to be telling them to 'get out.'  It's written in a way to keep ratcheting up the scariness with each short chapter, and can be read aloud to great effect. The stark black and white illustrations help to enhance the atmosphere.  I'm a little concerned that the online recommendations include 2nd graders – I think kids that young might easily end up with nightmares – but the older end of the range would certainly enjoy it.  (I did.)

And I've already mentioned the first book in the Tales from Lovecraft Middle School series by Charles Gilman, but I've since received the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th books, and I think they're getting better as the series progresses.  In #2: The Slither Sisters, Robert Arthur runs for student body president to block Sarah Price, one of the popular girls, from winning because he knows what she really is.  And in #3: Teacher's Pest, the school has an insect problem.  But it's not just Howard Mergler who's "bugging" Robert – his best friend Glenn is, too.  And in #4: Substitute Creature, Robert and his friends get stuck in the school overnight (yeah, that would have been my nightmare) with the substitute librarian when a "nor'easter" covers Dunwich in several feet of snow.  Yes, kids will be attracted by the changing 3–D covers, but the story is actually pretty good.

So, have a Happy Halloween and find something fun to read with the kids (or by yourself). 

Something under the bed is drooling

Quite simply, a bogle is a monster.  There are many different kinds, but they generally live in dark places like drain pipes, fireplaces, caves, and cellars.  I had one under my bed when I was a kid, and although I was never harmed they generally eat children.  But Birdie McAdam is an apprentice to a bogler, which is someone who gets rid of bogles.  She's only 10 years old and has the most beautiful singing voice.  All she has to do is stand in a circle of salt and sing to lure the bogle out.  She keeps watch in a small mirror for Mr. Bunce to give her the signal to move - quickly! - then he kills the bogle.  Yes, it's dangerous work, but at least it's honest, and a whole lot better than mudlarking.

I hope the author of How to Catch a Bogle (which I received from Amazon Vine) will forgive me but I thought this book was simply trying to ride Harry Potter's coattails and jump ahead of Ms. Rowling's anticipated 'Care of Magical Creatures' book.  "Bogle" sounds a little like "boggart" and it even mentioned "grindylows" early on, and Birdie is - of course - an orphan.  But despite those similarities, it's actually a very well-written and exciting story with shades of Charles Dickens' London, where children are exploited and the poor have few options.  Birdie and Mr. Bunce are engaging characters, and with each job the reader is drawn in and the suspense increases.  There are villains, too, and they're pretty mean and nasty, but there's just enough heroes to offset them.  Catherine Jinks writes with the appropriate accents and uses a lot of old slang from the Victorian (or is it 'Dickensian?') era which I found fairly confusing until I realized there's a glossary at the end of the book.  And the songs Birdie sings - while rather morbid - had such an air of authenticity I had to wonder if the author made them up or not as I rushed and neglected other things to finish this book.

So maybe there's a bit of Harry Potter with an Oliver Twist in the story, but it's a story well worth reading (especially if you've got kids to read it to).  I'm looking forward to the next one.

I'll go where you want me to go

We just got a second set of missionaries in our ward – sister missionaries.  We had them over for dinner last week and they shared this with us.  It's from the special broadcast fireside earlier this year.  It's too good not to share again.

Watch me pull a rabbit...

I'm not sure why but there were certain names that loomed large when I was a kid. Unfortunately, many of them were "bad guys" like the Red Baron, Billy the Kid, or Jesse James. It wasn't that I admired any of them (remember the episode of "The Brady Bunch" where Bobby has an unhealthy obsession with Jesse James?), but there was a strange fascination associated with such notorious characters. But I'm somewhat mystified as to why one particular name loomed equally large: Harry Houdini. I was never very interested in magic or magicians and yet my mind always associated him as "legendary" in a similar way. (On further reflection, I think my friend Aaron talked about him a lot.)

The Secret Life of Houdini: The Making of America's First Superhero by William Kalush and Larry Sloman details his humble beginnings as Ehrich Weiss, the son of a rabbi, to his life as an international celebrity. He is best remembered as a famous escape artist (and his name is still associated with getting out of a tight situation), but even as a child he displayed an unusual talent for magic and picking locks. Early on he struggled to make a living with magic, however, and found a more receptive audience for tricks like mind-reading and ‘speaking with the dead’ in a traveling show. The authors tell how he'd visit local bars and cemeteries when he first entered a new town and gather information about people who might have recently died – information which he could use in his show that evening. Later in life he earnestly regretted that, and he worked to expose such charlatans.

Spiritualism was very popular at the time and enjoyed prominent supporters like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, author of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries. Doyle and Houdini were actually quite good friends, and Doyle (among MANY others) actually believed Houdini had extraordinary or special powers. Houdini insisted that it was only sleight-of-hand, but Doyle thought Houdini was simply unaware of the true source of his power. Houdini's initial interest in Spiritualism was sincere because he desperately wanted to contact his deceased mother, but when he concluded it was all fake he made it a personal crusade to expose the Spiritualists, and some of his exploits were very funny. Apparently people visiting a spirit medium would usually sit in the dark holding hands while the spirits would communicate through a small trumpet (kind of like what a cheerleader might use, I think). Houdini would sneakily smear "lampblack" (which sounds like black shoe polish) on the mouthpiece of the trumpet, so that when they turned the lights back on the medium would have a black circle around his mouth. You can see why that might make the Spiritualists angry, and not only did it ruin his friendship with Sir Arthur but the authors speculate the Spiritualists had a hand in his death.

But Houdini was more than just a magician. He was an early devotee of flying, becoming the first person to achieve sustained flight in Australia, and he acted in motion pictures. The authors also offer evidence that Houdini may have been a spy for the American government while traveling in Europe. I first heard of this book in a radio interview with the author several years ago, although the possible spying activities weren't as prominent in the book as the interview might suggest. This claim has turned out to be rather controversial for some people, but to me it sounded plausible enough since I knew so little about him to begin with. But this has become one of those "favorite books” that I still think about now and then – especially when I see signs around my neighborhood for psychics and fortune tellers. (And just for the record: I do not think the Red Baron was a "bad guy" – he was actually a very decent guy who was just on the side of the enemy. Someday I’ll review the biography I read about him.)

The moon is as big as a basketball

The "space race" was actually a byproduct of the "arms race" between the USA and USSR and had its beginnings in Nazi Germany. In September 1944, Hitler's army began launching V-2 rockets, the world's first ballistic missiles, against Britain. And when the war ended the Americans and Soviets quickly spirited away any bit of this new technology they could find, including the scientists and engineers who had developed it.

But while America subsequently pursued a strategy of long-range bombers to deliver nuclear weapons, the USSR began a missile program which couldn't be defended against like a squadron of flying planes could be. The genius behind their program was a Soviet engineer named Sergey Korolev (or Korolyov) but known outside a very small circle only as the "Chief Designer." After getting the rockets to work he convinced Nikita Khruschev to pursue the launch of the world's first artificial satellite, and on October 4, 1957 Sputnik was launched. But while most leaders in both countries dismissed it as a ridiculous waste of resources, the public was fascinated and terrified by this newly demonstrated capability of the Russians. It quickly turned into a public relations coup.

But Red Moon Rising: Sputnik and the Hidden Rivalries that Ignited the Space Age isn't just a history of the beginnings of the space program. Matthew Brzezinski delves into the internal politics of both the Soviet Union and the United States, and that is perhaps the strongest part of the book. From Khruschev and the Kremlin to Eisenhower, Johnson and Nixon, the politics of the space race are discussed in detail which never became boring. He also mixes in relevant side stories, such as the U-2 spy planes which so infuriated Khruschev, as well as Korolev's rivalry with Valentin Glushko, another brilliant Soviet rocket scientist. Wernher von Braun, the former Nazi developer of the V-2 who later helped Walt Disney pitch Disneyland's Tomorrowland on ABC television, became the head of America's missile program, and is a central part of the American story.

Brzezinski's story-telling skills are superb, and although news from NASA has became fairly mundane, he takes the political intrigue and technological setbacks behind the scenes and turns it into a gripping narrative. You could feel the exhilaration at the successful launch of Sputnik, and the disappointment when the American Vanguard rocket exploded on the launch pad. Alternating back and forth between the Soviets and the Americans, he keeps the information and action flowing fast. If you liked Annie Jacobsen's Area 51 or just enjoy Cold War history this book will become one of your "all-time most favorite books ever," too.