Search results matching tag 'readers Exchange Round Rock Public Library'

A Texan a day...

Linda Sappenfield — Fri, 29 Mar 2013 15:14:00 GMT

Sam Bass is still causing trouble: the third request from out-of-towners for "the shootout map" (starring Mr. Bass in his final appearance) this week triggered my realization that March is done and I missed Texas Independence Day.

Visitors, bless ‘em, have shown more regard for Texas history than I have lately.

Perhaps if I were a fifth-generation Texas like my husband (I'm only fourth generation) my devotion would surface at less erratic intervals. He checks in daily with the Texas State Historical Association's Texas Day By Day.

I may be subconsciously preventing schedule erosion by visiting this remarkable compendium less often. Though immune to other digital lures--online gaming, serial Facebook updating--I am helpless in the face of so many links to pursue and can't resist roaming beyond TSHA's daily offerings to explore further.

You'd be amazed at the variety of lore chronicled therein. Not a native? All the more reason to acquaint yourself with Three-Legged Willie, The Light Crust DoughBoys, "Ma" Ferguson, Bring ‘Em Back Alive Buck, Blind Lemon Jefferson, and Ima Hogg.

Life in other states may not have promoted knowledge of what transpired when the Chilympiad barred women from competing or when the U.S. War Department shipped camels to Texas.

But you'll encounter frequent references to The Other 49. One can't be faulted for being born elsewhere. We gladly claim "naturalized" Texans who arrived later and notably achieved: Walter Cronkite, Norah Jones, Emmitt Smith, golf guru Harvey Penick, Sandra Bullock, Dr. Phil....

Electric guitar pioneer Charlie Christian was a native, as were Roy Orbison, Van Cliburn, Ornette Coleman, and too many other influential artists to name. Bandleader/Governor/Senator Pappy O'Daniel demonstrated (as have others since) that in Texas politics and entertainment are, if not indistinguishable, definitely intertwined.

TSHA affords juicy gossip: Pennsylvania-born Anna Raguet inspired Sam Houston to (once he'd been elected President of the Republic) expedite the divorce suit against his first wife. Ms. Raguet allegedly found the proceedings off-putting and married Houston's secretary of state instead.

As for adventure: Rebecca Gilleland Fisher, captured by Comanches who killed her parents, was subsequently rescued. She later became a charter member of the DAR and aided in saving the Alamo from destruction.   Medal of Honor recipient John Cary Morgan, whose achievement was fictionalized in the movie Twelve O'Clock High, didn't merely take over his B-17's controls when the pilot was shot; he had to fly with one hand and stave off the "crazed" pilot with the other.

And nowadays, as we contemplate a diminished Post Office presence, the loss of stagecoach mail and passenger service (March 1, 1861; the route was relocated north out of Texas) resonates, doesn't it?

John Steinbeck observed that, "Like most passionate nations, Texas has its own history based on, but not limited by, facts."   TSHA's trove of data in Handbook of Texas Online defies fiction to invent anything so colorful.

But it's still OK to speculate, as Tex Ritter did: "They say that Virginia is the mother of Texas. We never knew who the father was, but we kinda suspected Tennessee."

A glass of wine, a Triscuit, and thou

Linda Sappenfield — Fri, 14 Dec 2012 20:24:00 GMT

Have you seen this: T-shirt with wineglass graphic and text "More book club, please"?

Of all the pairing strategies for this beverage category--course-by-course restaurant scenarios, cheese tastings, digital guidance on what to serve with various things-- wine's trendiest association may be with literary discussions. A good book and a choice bottle don't just enhance one another, they compensate for deficiencies. Didn't care for the book? Well, chances are you'll approve the vintage.

None of my book groups follow the sip-and-share template, but one has evolved from snacks to entire meals, occasionally with wine accompaniment. What does it say about me that I vividly recall several lovely dinners and almost nothing about the texts that inspired them?

But however other reader meet-ups evolve, count on this directive: Do not, under any circumstances, distract or befuddle yourself with a glass of wine before the Great Conversations book group at the Baca Center. You will need to keep your wits about you. It isn't just that these people take the readings seriously; they prepare. Did you pursue additional background about this month's author, Google some of the historical facets, and review additional selections by the writer? Congratulations, you'll be in the lowest third ranked by degree of readiness.

This week's selection, excerpts from Thorstein Veblen's (1899) The Theory of the Leisure Class, typical of GC assignments, has stood the test of time. What's unusual is that the same book was chosen by a member of that dinner group a few months back. (He emailed the group prior to the meeting, apologizing for the selection; we still like him.) I could describe our progress through the entire text of ornate prose, but "slog" is an ugly word. I maintain that most employed what I call the Fruitcake Approach that month--picking through, identifying elements of interest, and consuming those.

That's a perfect segue into the recently reviewed 30-page segment of Theory... in Great Conversations 1. That nicely sized slice of the book addresses (of all things, at this time of year) conspicuous consumption. Discussion included these questions: What is the definition of conspicuous consumption? Why do tasks relegated to women historically rank low in esteem despite their vital nature?

Group convener Helen, asker of incisive questions, is certain to render the very inquiry one feels least secure in addressing. So when she queried, "Are we a leisure class?" I decided to go for it, asserting that everyone in the group qualified: we have discretionary time, can purchase multiple non-essential items, and (most importantly, since it speaks to Veblen's emphasis on force and predation) may utilize social networking opportunities like Yelp to assert power over production of goods and services. Several agreed that Veblen's evolutionary approach to consumerism could adapt to include the blurring of classes now prevalent.

At which point Helen delivered the question nobody wants to answer: How many pairs of shoes are in your closet?

Fortunately, closets have also evolved.

All creatures of habit great and small

Linda Sappenfield — Thu, 12 Apr 2012 15:55:00 GMT

Scene witnessed while I waited in a customer service queue; the venue shall remain nameless: just ahead stood a young woman juggling several items requiring the attention of the person behind the counter--and a cell phone parked between shoulder and ear.

Deep in her narration of personal issues (about which the rest of us would have preferred to remain ignorant), the chatterer glanced up periodically to see when she might expect her turn. Not frequently enough, though; absorbed in conversation, she failed to notice that a clerk had looked meaningfully at her a couple of times--the clerk who currently had no one in front of her and had occupied herself with paperwork, awaiting an opening to invite the customer forward.

In the fleeting moment between ending one conversation and speed-dialing the next one, the customer did achieve eye contact with the staffer. And that was sufficient. "Ah," the employee observed, "If you've finished talking, I can assist you now."

That phone disappeared like magic. Judging from the covert smiles registered on other faces in line, I wasn't the only one who approved.

Resorting to phone chat to fill every spare moment is a habit--an annoying one, in this case--but who doesn't have one or two of those? Coincidentally, I just got my hands on Round Rock Public Library's copy of Charles Duhigg's The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business.

I love a good makeover as much as the next reader, and this book stands out amid transformational titles. It doesn't exhort you to become a different person so much as it promotes awareness of why you've allowed cravings to drive you while underscoring how much change potential you already possess.

Though not far into the book, I've spotted some easily relatable examples that could equip even non-science major types to grasp the mental processes in question. I comprehended the fundamentals of string theory for about five minutes after reading Brian Greene, so clearly anything is possible.

Referencing unique case studies, historical events (Montgomery bus boycott), and popular culture (Febreze marketing, Cinnabons franchise locations, Tony Dungy's coaching), Duhigg's message is loaded with empowerment.

This is a busy week, so I'm relieved to note that the text portion of The Power of Habit is under 300 pages. I can finish it and still avoid the habit of overdue book returns. And besides, small items can still exert tremendous influence for good or ill. Just consider the power of cookies, lottery tickets, and smartphones.

Being royal means never having to share your copy

Linda Sappenfield — Tue, 17 May 2011 17:09:00 GMT

Given William and Kate's recent choices--tasteful wedding, charitable donations instead of lavish gifts--I hope that the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge are readers. Aware of their massive role model potential, the young royals are evidently set on using their powers for good.

What would be better than seeing them demonstrate that reading is as enviable as driving Aston Martins or wearing jewels? We have a visibility issue, though. The newlyweds' royal apartments could be positively littered with e-book readers and print volumes, but I have yet to see either of them photographed while engrossed in a novel.

If only some well-wisher would send the Cambridges a copy of Deborah Harkness' new A Discovery of Witches. Whoever picks it up first would read a few bits aloud, thus prompting the loving partner to run out and splurge on a second copy. I think they can afford it. Once the photogenic couple is enthralled with the story, a media lens could document the copy tucked under William's arm or perhaps the one projecting from Kate's designer tote.

Not that other books couldn't do the job. Discovery runs counter to my preferences, though, and I loved it anyway. Vampires, witches, and daemons generally are barred from my reading, but all three populate this suspenseful yarn. I also appreciated Harkness' ability to intersperse all manner of arcane historical detail.

Harkness' protagonist, Diana, is a feisty, athletic, persevering beauty who encounters a tall, head-turning stranger on a university campus (extra points for the library setting). She's from humble-but-noteworthy origins; he lives in a castle inhabited by his clan for centuries. Because they are two entirely different sorts of creatures, marriage intentions would spark controversy. Both claim relatives who are endearingly flawed and do embarrassing things; there's even a legendary grandmother always prepared to render her judgments. At one point, an extravagantly large ring (formerly belonging to Our Hero's mother) comes into play.

But, as I mentioned before, any new novel boasting an involving plot, oddly sympathetic characters, and a series-worthy premise would be appropriate. Not sure why I thought of this particular one...