http://blogcritics.org/ A sinister cabal of superior bloggers on music, books, film, popular culture, politics, and technology - updated continuously. en Copyright 2005-2007 by the authors Wed, 22 Jun 2005 22:30:35 EDT http://backend.userland.com/rss Blogcritics.org custom software http://blogcritics.org/ Phillip WinnSunday, August 26, 2007, marks the switch of all Blogcritics.org article feeds from full-content to short-content. This is the result of several converging factors, and is unfortunately a permanent decision (as permanent as any decision can be on the web, that is). We are aware of all of the reasons that this is a Bad Idea, and we are aware that some of you will be quite upset about having to click on something to read the free content, and we're sorry. Unfortunately, despite great effort, full-content feeds are not currently economically viable. Two other factors are involved: full-content feeds have resulted in an unprecedented level of content theft, with BC content appearing on many websites, usually spam sites, without attribution or permission. This duplicate content causes a cascading set of problems, not the least of which is that search engines generally aren't favorable to duplicate content, and don't always guess correctly. Finally, our RSS advertising partner is strongly in favor of short-content feeds. We hope that you'll continue to subscribe to BC via RSS, and when an article grabs your eye, it's only a click away, still free on the BC website. Thank you for your understanding. Administration0@blogcritics.org Sun, 26 Aug 2007 12:00:00 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/06/22/223035.php garrie keymanIn Lieu of Heaven, Kevin Archer's first-person allegory of disenchantment with his spiritual journey, is an ultimately enjoyable tale, drawing in the reader with smooth prose and accessible protagonists. Interest is sustained by thought-filled examinations of biblical precepts, all of which are artfully couched in an entertaining fictionalization of what might be called an atheist's apologetics.A lone drifter, wandering a parched desert, happens upon an oasis occupied by a single inhabitant we soon discover is no other than the original Adam. The ensuing conversations between Adam and our drifter become a veritable deconstruction of biblical teaching, Adam insisting all the while that our drifter's quest to encounter God will never be met, since God is dead. Adam knows; he claims to be the one who killed Him, committing the murder as revenge for His having allowed Eve to die.Exactly why Adam never died is not made clear, but the crux of the tale&#8212aside from pointing out many of the ironies and hypocrisies of biblical teaching&#8212centers around our waiting to have Adam explain precisely how it was he murdered God.Enter the book's main flaw, stage left.Archer's dénouement involves Adam and Judas being one, a resolution that had a difficult time gelling in my brain. Perhaps if Archer's Adam had conspired with Judas and claimed complicity in the death of Jesus I might have found In Lieu of Heaven slightly more cohesive. Of course, reading any manner of speculative fiction requires that the reader apply a hefty dose of what in drama has been dubbed "suspended disbelief." This doesn't mean, however, once the speculative fiction author has established the parameters of her "universe," that she can change them at any turn&#8212or toss them wholesale out the window&#8212without losing the reader's acceptance of said universe. The other problem is, of course, that we all know Jesus died, but His death has never been equated with the death of the triune God. In Archer's work, the concept of the Trinity is not first deconstructed, as is so much else in biblical teaching, and therefore to accept the death of Jesus as equivalent to the annihilation of God requires a leap of, shall we say, faithlessness, that Archer has not wholly prepared us to accept.He has, however, set us up to accept much, and has done it well. As a former missionary, his knowledge of the bible would seem fairly thorough, and he footnotes his references (citing chapter and verse) for the reader's convenience.I first selected In Lieu of Heaven because I mistakenly thought it was going to be a scholarly approach to biblical deconstruction; I didn't realize I had ordered a novel. But if anything, In Lieu of Heaven was better than I anticipated precisely because it was a work of fiction. I say this because, in fictionalizing his thoughts, Archer's appeal becomes accessible on multiple levels and his intellectual acuity proven the keener for his approach. And yet by no means is to characterize In Lieu of Heaven as a scholarly work off the mark. Archer knows his subject well and evokes in the reader frequent and introspective thought-provoking pauses. I suspect this was one of his goals and he achieves it almost poetically.In Lieu of Heaven is a brief 155 pages that will give readers more than 155 pages worth of impact, at least for those valuing well-written prose packing a punch that teeters on profundity. Overall, well done. Earns three out of five possible stars. Books31463@blogcritics.org Wed, 22 Jun 2005 22:30:35 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/06/02/230355.php garrie keyman SIGNS: a review by garrie keyman Six sure signs your husband will fall asleep watching the DVD you just bought1. It's a Sci-fi film set in ... Pennsylvania (now that's scary) 2. The real-life name of the writer/director is better than any of the characters' 3. Featured is a set of poor motherless children* 4. The top performances are given by the supporting cast 5. Your husband can legitimately compare the film to "The X-files meets Little House on the Prairie" 6. The aliens are men in bumpy green bodysuits reminiscent of those shriveled pickles you left in the back of your fridge since that picnic last July That said, Signs is far from the worst Sci-fi movie I've ever seen and, if you liked it, this additional tidbit may come as consolation: I bought this DVD to share with my husband after seeing it in the theater - twice - without him. Unfortunately, he is yet to sit through a viewing without falling asleep.Signs is the tale of Graham Hess, a farmer-preacher (is there a call for a lot of those in eastern PA? -- I dunno; I live there and have yet to meet one) whose faith has fallen following the death of his wife. Hess (Mel Gibson) wakes one day to discover a crop circle stamped in his field. The pets are acting up and his son Morgan (Rory Calkin) has to impale the family German Shepard with a barbeque skewer to save little sister Bo (Abby Breslin). Add one Officer Caroline Paski (Cherry Jones, whose contribution to the film is as believable as it gets), and one Merrill Hess (Joaquin Phoenix, whose contribution isn't) -- Graham's younger brother who has moved-in to help out after his sister-in-law's death -- and we've set the scene.Perhaps we should begin with the three elements that are truly on par in this film, since a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine ball go down. Before I was halfway through with my first viewing, I already had these elements pegged: cinematography, score, supporting cast. Now, if I were a reviewer worth my salt, I'd be telling you what recognition - if any - this film won in the awards circuit (in other words I'd be busy backing up my opinion with somebody else's). As it stands, I don't know. I don't base my movie watching on other people's reviews nor on the issuing of awards and nominations because I often don't agree. But if you want my word on the matter, read on.James Newton Howard's score is one of a trio of elements which help buoy Signs, keeping it from sinking into the murky waters of B-flick also-rans. It is just the kind of music I like to hear: music that I don't -- at first. Good soundtracks don't distract viewers from the story they were designed to compliment. Theater-goers shouldn't be thinking, "Gee, that's great music; think I'll go buy the CD when the movie's over." Instead, what well-crafted and carefully conducted scores should do is help establish mood and draw you into the action. They should echo your feelings as you watch the film or -- for those less emotionally astute -- serve to clue-in the viewer on the intended tone of the scene. Howard's work does all this and more. More than one sf&f movie has been ruined by a poor score (Willow comes to mind), so the success of this leg of the tripod shoring up Signs is a crucial one.The second excellent piece of work in the film is the cinematography...the filming itself. We're talking what's being framed in the shot, the lighting, the pacing and proper juxtaposition of close-up vs. longer view (actually that one's editing), the angles chosen, etc. Cinematography is not just the set -- it's the wardrobe the set is sporting and the ability of the cinematographer to know well enough not to attire the set in grunge when the scene calls clearly for eveningwear. From the opening scene of the Hess's backyard as seen from a second-story bedroom window to the final shot in the film, I can find little fault with this element in Signs. Like the score, the visual interpretation of the story proves keen, compelling and apt.The third leg of the tripod of virtues redeeming this film from its lesser qualities is the work of the supporting cast. Cherry Jones is down-home familiar as Officer Caroline Paski and my view - for those of you who know my former profession -- is not a product of personal bias. In fact, if anything, passing off as believable a woman police officer is a difficult task; it's too frequently abysmally done. Jones makes the grade and winds up one of the three actors I would like to see in another movie. The other two are Merritt Wever as Tracey Abernathy, the teenage drugstore clerk, and -- interestingly enough -- Manoj Nelliyattu Shyamalan. Who you say? That's M. Night Shyamalan: writer, producer & director of Signs (told'ja he had a great name) cast as Ray, the affable fellow who, having fallen asleep at the wheel one night, swerved off a dark road and into Hess's wife who was out on a stroll.So, with all these elements going for it, what, you ask, are the movie's lesser merits? Dismissable, if you don't mind stilted dialog, contrived plot lines and obvious give-aways (like Bo's obsession with water and its guaranteed link to story resolution). This is a movie that would have benefited by a cast of "unknowns," the renown of the leads doing little but getting in the way of the tale's veracity. It doesn't help that Gibson had never portrayed a father well (see - gag - The Patriot) nor that the other three are all riding the wake of their sibling's acting successes (in Hollywood, as in politics, I happen to hate familial dynasties).Nevertheless, a few decent scenes emerge, including one between Graham and Merrill, with the children asleep on their laps, as they discuss the issue of faith in whispered tones. I've never developed a rating system and now, that I've reviewed several works on film, perhaps I should. Let's make it a simple 1 through 10 system with 10 being most meritorious. This will be a rating against all filmed works, not just those within genre. For comparison purposes, let's go back and rank the other pieces I reviewed in the past and see how Signs compares:Planet of the Apes Original TV Series on DVD: 7½ to 8 Galaxy Quest: 10 Signs: 6½ to 7 The Boy Who Could Fly: 10*see past issues of keyman's column, KeyCOMMentary in the monthly speculative fiction webzine, The Illuminata, available at www.TyrannosaurusPress.com Video30496@blogcritics.org Thu, 2 Jun 2005 23:03:55 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/06/01/155359.php garrie keyman Because I Remember Terror, Father, I Remember You by Sue William SilvermanPowerful in its lean simplicity, gripping in its honesty, Sue Silverman's voice rivets the reader with its sensual evocation of imagery and its ability to draw a reluctant audience into the painful world in which she was raised.Written in vignettes&#8212snapshots of memory&#8212Silverman's book, published by the University of Georgia Press, courageously shares the stark terror of growing up a victim of incest. Masterfully alive in her words are the confusion, shame, and overwhelming dissolution of self such experiences engender.Yet for all its unspeakable tragedy, Because I Remember Terror is also a tale of recovery, of a woman's unbreakable inner being and her ability to rise beyond the crushing dust of a shattered childhood.Like many other readers, I read Silverman's 272-page memoir in a single day, unable to set it aside. Still, one could never claim to like Silverman's book any more than one would claim to have loved, say, Shindler's List. Be moved by it, yes. Be forever altered, indeed. But like? Love? No sane person can wade into the pool of another's suffering and enjoy it. Still, Silverman's words and her tale beckon, an immersion we all need if we, as society, are ever to begin cleansing this festering, hidden wound that surrounds us in silent horror.Silverman is to be applauded for her advocacy of others in similar straights, to be respected for not submitting, in the final analysis, to the terror to which her sadistic father subjected her, a terror to which her mother turned a blind eye and hardened heart. Parents, teachers, psychologists, doctors&#8212even teenagers&#8212should read this book. Silverman's is a voice crying out in a veritable wilderness where children are being lost to violence every day. Yes, here. In America. Maybe in the house next door to you. Maybe in your own.Please. Hear her. Books30436@blogcritics.org Wed, 1 Jun 2005 15:53:59 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/05/31/224132.php garrie keymanThis Lair's Draggin' by garrie keymanNovice writer Lisa Guilfoil's debut, The Dragon's Lair, introduces a young bar owner whose traumatic past catches up with her. Confronting her demons is Skye Dakota, the supposedly tough-as-Teflon proprietor of the Dragon's Lair, a well-appointed bar on space station Pettit. Set in a nebulous Earth-referenced future where space stations boast not only bars, but also Olympic-size swimming pools and thoroughly-equipped gyms, The Dragon's Lair reads like an early draft of a promising tale that evaded an editor's pen.Tough, I suppose, because she is a vodka-swilling masochist, Skye Dakota is beaten to a pulp by a couple of bad'uns early in the book. Her recovery is painfully slow, especially for the reader. Skye learns the biggest bad'un of 'em all is the one who had her roughed up and she means to find out why, but her pummeling stirs memories that haunt her dreams.Enduring countless days of self-induced insomnia using something referred to as stim stix, Skye begins pulling away from her small circle of friends. After surviving on alternating doses of vodka and coffee while punishing herself with grueling work-outs, she at last decides she must return to her roots, where her old friends are apparently tougher than her current crew, and can help her re-gain her 'edge' to face down space gangster Viktor.If it's any clue about the book's pace, this set-up takes 174 pages.Guilfoil is a young writer yet to learn what show, don't tell really means. What's more, she tells us over and over and over. Nevertheless, victims of domestic violence harboring revenge fantasies might have spun The Dragon's Lair into a campy cult classic if Kill Bill hadn't come along first.While The Dragon's Lair is not being marketed as any particular genre, it reads like a romance set in space. Tossed in for that groovy sci-fi effect are words like chronometer and vidcom, while sprinkled throughout is the occasional unexplained (and therefore ever annoying) foreign term. With 287 pages of story wearing 421 pages of text, The Dragon's Lair might have fared better if Guilfoil had turned one of her tale's bloody knives on her manuscript; there are entire scenes and characters that should have been nixed.What's more, with a volume this thick you might at least expect a substantial subplot, but don't look for it here. In truth, the most impressive part of this novel is Kandace Wright's richly-drawn, if darkly-rendered, cover art, even if what's lurking beyond the door is anyone's guess. It looks like the framework to the Hindenburg.Get past the heroine's name, the smatterings of Shakespeare (Hey, they did it in Star Trek, right?) and strings of adjectives where one would do, and you might actually read The Dragon's Lair cover to cover. If you do, let me know... and how many stim stix it took to do it. Books30399@blogcritics.org Tue, 31 May 2005 22:41:32 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/05/31/214925.php garrie keymanthoughts on a second honeymoon from the fringe of hellCall us crazy, but our idea of a mid-life crisis is having more children. Okay, I'll be honest; that's my idea of a mid-life crisis. My husband just happens to be good-natured enough to go along with the half-witted notions I embrace as we travel together through life. What can I say except that he's a swell guy? I, on the other hand, go off half-cocked beyond the rubble of what was once the Iron Curtain, dragging my husband behind as we travel on a quest built on the flimsy foundation of a deceitful international adoption agency named Yunona.We now facetiously refer to this company as Yu-(k)no(w)-nathing.Our quest? To retrieve two daughters, ages 8 & 11, from an orphanage in the region of Donetsk. Yunona's repeated promise? That these girls were indeed available, that they had received our letters and were aware we were coming, and that they (Yunona) could provide for their adoption.We had gone the route taken by the majority of parents: spying on a photolisting endearing kids, our hearts and consciences wrenched by the thought of their childhoods being lived out in a dismal impoverished orphanage while we relished the relative materialistic ease of middle class American life. We did not know until we arrived in Kiev that Yunona purchases the photos they place on the Internet. We learned that the photos are taken by the orphanages to update binders filled with child profiles lining the shelves at Ukraine's National Adoption Center (NAC), but for a dip in Yunona's pockets, certain workers at the NAC will instead sell those photos. The effect of this practice leaves the binders filled with grossly out-dated profiles of children waiting to be adopted and fills the Internet with the faces of children about whom Yunona in truth knows nothing.Parents aren't told – at least not until they arrive overseas -- that they must not mention the name "Yunona" and that they must never mention they "pre-selected" the children they have come to adopt. Suddenly, parents become a part of the conspiracy, taken to the NAC to scramble through countless binders (or at least those selected to be shown to them) -- only able to hope they'll come across the face of the child whom they thought had already been arranged to be theirs.It is quite a shock.Putting aside all the bureaucratic hoops and financial strains that precede such a trip for willing parents, it is heinous for Yunona and agencies like them to issue contracts for children over whose fate they in fact have neither knowledge or control. The owner of Yunona, one Ivan Jerdev, fancies himself a sort of Cyrillic Robin Hood, justifying his questionable means by the common end: that of having nevertheless brought about the adoption of orphans.But the primary reason children are still getting adopted through this agency is that once there, parents who can't for one reason or another adopt the children they traveled to adopt (which is the vast majority of parents) are then prodded to select a child from the out-dated profiles in the binders at the NAC and encouraged to adopt them instead. Parents travel to distant regions to meet children they are told are healthy, but frequently aren't. For many parents it is a heartbreaking journey. They may have placed their life savings in Yunona's wallet in the hope of adopting. Doubtless, they have completed countless forms at substantial cost, may have left other children waiting at home, and have traveled thousands of miles to a country where, save for Yunona's paid interpreter, they can communicate effectively with no one. It is a position of high vulnerability. We know. It was a position in which we stood.We know how easy it is for parents in this situation to succumb to this pressure and accept a different child than the one they traveled to adopt. We almost did it ourselves. They tell you that you literally only have minutes to decide or you will have to go home empty-handed. They remind you that you have come this far and gone to all this work and expense and now how could you possibly leave a poor suffering orphan behind? Never mind that Yunona's contract promises specific children for whom you have already prepared your heart and your home. And never mind the contract promises a refund if they can't deliver the specific children you planned to welcome into your lives, because there's also a clause that nullifies this promise if you chose a different child. For Yunona, regardless of the fact that they know little or nothing about the children whose faces they post on the Internet, the odds are still on their side.One common result of Yunona's blind-sided practices is for parents to discover upon their arrival that a child they intended to adopt has a sibling or two or three. This is one of the things that happened to us. The NAC then tells parents that they must adopt all siblings; that, by Ukrainian law, families cannot be split. Lest it sound as though I am opposed to this philosophy let me state clearly that I am not. What I take exception to is Yunona's failure to know the status of children for whom they issue contracts. We were not prepared to learn we were now going to be expected to adopt 14-year-old boy. The NAC couldn't even find a profile on him, just as they couldn't find a profile on the younger of the daughters we went to adopt. Without a profile, the NAC won't issue the necessary permission to meet the child anyway, so our hands were tied.On chat sites for adoptive parents we have been vilified both for speaking out about Yunona and for not having selected alternative children on the spot, under pressure, while still distraught after having learned we'd been deceived. I suppose some parents who have been in our position, yet made a different choice, feel defensive – perhaps because they feel to be otherwise is to implicate themselves as victims or to somehow denigrate their love for the children they nevertheless did wind up adopting. It is a shame they cannot see Yunona for what it is without removing the innocence of their adopted children from the equation, because to defend Yunona is to defend everything that is wrong with international adoption.Yunona could easily abandon their deceptive practices and cease issuing contracts for specific children. They could stop buying photos of kids they know nothing about. So why don't they? I believe it is because there would then be a sharp decline in a call for their services and therefore a sharp decline in their income. The faces are the bait. Bait gathers clients. Pressuring parents to adopt alternative children once in country is the switch.Yunona runs a bait-'n-switch operation because that's where the money is. What, then, about the other type of contract Yunona offers: the open contract? An open contract secures adoptive services in which the client parents are aided in selecting children the way Ukraine expects them to – ridiculous as it is – by choosing in a matter of minutes a child from an out-dated profile book that they can't even read for themselves. But there is no money-back clause in an open contract, and besides, even parents who took the switch readily admit they wouldn't have gone halfway around the world to adopt if they hadn't fallen for a specific photograph in the first place. They're okay with this, mind you, now that they have chosen to adopt a different child; but they don't want to hear their lost dream of a child called bait.Another reason the open contract route is less popular is that this route can be taken for a whole lot less money -- by merely excluding Yunona from the process in the first place. Adopting "independently" is the method sanctioned by the Ukrainian government and there are helpful groups of parents readily available on the Internet (see: www.frua.org) who will help new and interested adoptive parents through the sometimes daunting journey of independent international adoption. Tens of thousands of children living in American homes today testify to the effectiveness of sanctioned routes to adoption. Unfortunately for us and for many other unsuspecting, uninformed parents, falling in love with a face and signing on the dotted line preceded understanding.We learned all we know too late.We did, however, have our share of suspicion before traveling, though not due to any information forthcoming from Yunona. It was because of adoption chat groups I encountered that we began to question our agency. But met with inquiry, Yunona artfully and continually deflects parental worry by wielding a shield of propaganda that's been polished to a high sheen by half-truths and outright lies. If you tell Yunona other parents informed you photolistings are illegal in Ukraine, Yunona says they don't use photolistings in Ukraine – they use them on the Internet. When we asked for details about what would take place at the NAC, such as how long our appointment would be and what would take place there, we were given vague platitudes consisting of statements like, "Don't worry. Your coordinators in Kiev will take care of everything."Now that we are back and voicing our dissent, one indignant parent has accused us of "being willing to go along with Yunona so long as we thought we could get what we want." To an extent she is right. But she, like Yunona, is skirting past several salient points. For one, most of what we now know we didn't know prior to traveling. What we thought we were "going along with" didn't include the realization that money we believed was being spent to make the lives of orphans better was in fact being used to bribe officials such a notaries, judges, and employees of the NAC. For another, suspicions notwithstanding, Yunona held two very important things over our heads: all of our liquid assets and the lives of the daughters we expected to raise. Pretty hefty stakes.To be sure, we would also be less upset if Yunona at least honored its contract in that it returned our funds. Instead they are attempting to extort our complicity in their schemes by trying to force us to sign a gag order -- which includes a waiver of a multitude of our rights -- in order to secure our already-contractually-agreed-upon refund. Well, I may be one stubborn woman because my silence cannot be bought. Not even for the $14,400.00 that Yunona still owes us. Our right to free speech and the rights of other unsuspecting parents to be duly warned is in fact worth a whole lot more, don't you think?Organizations like Yunona that run afoul of international laws and standard codes of ethics in their conduct do more in the long run to harm orphans than they do to help them. If Yunona were sincere in their claims to care about orphans, they would serve them appropriately and further the cause of adoption in an upright and unsullied manner. There would be no need to deceive parents. And if deception isn't at play here, why do parents like us have to wrestle and sue for our refunds?One parent recently told me that she has been reading the adoption chat sites long enough now to see the cycle repeating itself. What cycle you ask? Why, the one of which I and my husband are now a part: that of starry-eyed parents announcing their impending trip overseas to adopt, only to find they must defend Yunona against those in the know, then later returning from their disappointing travels to link elbows with the angry masses. This particular parent justifiably pondered how the cycle would ever end.If you're wondering the same thing, all I can say is ... I'm working as fast as I can. Author's note: For those readers astute enough -- and for those with attention spans rivaling the Verrazano Narrows Bridge, who may actually recall the title of this piece by the time they read to the end -- here's the punch line: our trip wasn't totally a waste. Not only did we learn how to ask for "one large beer" in rather broken Ukrainian, but outlandishly poor flight connections and bureaucratic complications led us to experience life in Kiev while our luggage toured Prague and permitted us an unanticipated night in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower's twinkling golden lights. Life is an adventure. Go live it. But don't forget to ask for your money back from unscrupulous shysters along the way. Culture30397@blogcritics.org Tue, 31 May 2005 21:49:25 EDT http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/05/30/224138.php garrie keyman The Men Who Wear the Tights, The Women Who Wear the PantsAs children, our earliest exposure to the notion of a hero is typically a character in tights. Sporting a bath towel cape and pretending to be imbued with super powers, we dream of measuring up. Soon we are introduced to 'community helpers' -- those kindergarten days celebrating the men and women who keep the cogs of a community going, as well as those who wait in the wings of daily obscurity to launch a rescue when needed. But while I would never denigrate the heroism of those who truly sacrifice to serve -- especially those who have given the ultimate sacrifice in any line of duty -- I have to say I've never been at ease with the status of auto-heroics.Auto-heroics have nothing to do with the Indianapolis 500. It is my own term for the automatic assignment of the title of hero to anyone just because they chose a particular job. Trust me. I've walked in these shoes. Mine is a view from the inside out. Granted, it's true those most often paid homage -- firefighters and police officers -- are in a position to act heroically; more than anyone else they'll get the chance; but pinning on a badge, alone, doesn't put anyone on a pedestal in my mind. It's simply not enough.Altruism is a myth. I say this because even in serving others there is a pay-off. If not a paycheck then a sense of self-worth or the accolades we think we are likely to garner: our personal stairway to heaven. This is, instead, a look at a different kind of hero, at a type of day-to-day heroics to which most of us, save the horribly unfortunate, can relate from one side of the fence or the other. This is a column about parenting.Parents are a quiet kind of hero, an unsung species who are the building contractors of society. They are the build-it-and-they-will-come dreamers who with a funny sort of blind faith cast their souls into the fray to help make tomorrow come true. Most, looking back, would re-think the decision. It's no accident God made the view so different from opposite sides of the fence, for if as children we knew what it was really like to be parents we would never deign to procreate; that, or it's a matter of rampant hormones. Either way, the result is the same: parents are born right along side of their children, as fresh and unmistakably new as the babe in their arms.To Serve and ProtectYes, parenting is a lot like policing and fighting fires. There are times of lull and emergency; times they take pride in what they do and times they curse themselves for the job they've undertaken. It's a strange blend of foolishness and pluck, of soldiering and softness, of small triumphs and sequestered tears.My Pop went to work at what was then Armstrong Cork Company and he went almost every day without fail. It took an act of the Almighty to keep him home. Like many children of the Great Depression he worked hard and left his complaints in the break room. For a time I shared the squalor of his world when as a college work-study student I drove forklift there, and one utterly exhausting day was even assigned to load the hopper by his side. Dyes, I think it was: a humbling experience through which I knew I never would have lasted the more than forty years that he did. But not to go would have been to turn his back on duty. Pop knew duty.As a teen he worked the Civilian Conservation Corps, sending most of the money (what little he made) home. In World War II he was a battlefield lineman in the Army doing tours in Normandy and the Philippines. I came across his discharge papers the other year.As a parent he had a duty to provide, having come by it willingly or not, and he fulfilled that duty nine times over. He went to work at the same dirty, tiring, unrewarding job day after day in order to feed and cloth and shelter his children despite anything else he might have wanted to do with his own life. That's heroism.My Pop didn't plan to have children (not that he was wholly innocent in the matter; though parenthood was thrust upon him he was wont to admit with a smile on his face that he'd done his share of the thrusting). His own preferences were subjugated to the Catholic mentality of the woman he married: a woman apparently determined to bear all that she could bear, giving Pop an awful lot to bear in the bargain. To his credit he stayed and supported the hoard. On a planet where so many fail to meet that bar, it alone can constitute a heroic leap.Now here's where you, the reader, come in. I want to hear from you. I want to hear about the way in which your own parents or parent-models (the guardians, aunts, uncles or grandparents who raised you) met the role of unsung hero in your life. With your permission, I'll highlight some of the stories in a future column. I also want to hear your tales from the Dark Side -- of your own heroic struggles as parent or those of your partner or even of another parent you admire. Send your thoughts to: To Serve & Protect c/o garrie keyman, Box 431, Lititz, PA 17543.If you're a police officer, firefighter, or other public servant, I'd especially like to hear your own comparisons of parenting to what you do on the line. Till then, take courage; it doesn't ever get easier, but you're never alone. Culture30338@blogcritics.org Mon, 30 May 2005 22:41:38 EDT