Renaissance Hombre – the Kirkus Review

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Renaissance Hombre was just reviewed by Kirkus Reviews – an independent book reviewer based in Texas. Below is the entire review which was released on December 14, 2020 (with permission of Kirkus Reviews). It could’ve been better. But it coulda been worse.

TITLE INFORMATION: RENAISSANCE HOMBRE
Reflections on a Well-Rounded Life
by Scott W. Petersen
AuthorHouse (236 pp.)
$26.99 hardcover, $13.99 paperback
ISBN: 978-1-72837-234-1
September 18, 2020
BOOK REVIEW
A volume of blog posts offers personal anecdotes and addresses serious issues.

Petersen has been running a blog and posting twice a week since 2011. This book is a compilation of his posts over the years. Divided into 17 parts that move thematically rather than chronologically, the collection ranges from humorous childhood memories to book recommendations and is peppered with tidbits of trivia and historical facts. The posts cover both amusing and weighty topics. The author is at his best in the opening pages; the humor is delightful, focusing less on one-line jokes and more on the hilarity of various situations. It’s genuinely funny to learn that Petersen accidentally misdialed a pal’s number when he was a child and then promptly encouraged his friends to make prank phone calls. The author later rhapsodizes about the importance of comedy: “I like jokes. Humor. Comedy. The Three Stooges (are you kidding, Petersen?). The Honeymooners. Seinfeld. I like to laugh. A favorite funny movie? Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Or maybe it’s Airplane! Or Young Frankenstein. Or The Pink Panther. Humor is a great medicine. One of the best.” Petersen also displays sincerity in this well-meaning assemblage. He frequently speaks of tolerance, logic, and rationality when facing the thorny problems of the 21st century. But even when he includes brief quotes or vivid historical moments plucked from his research, his posts, often due to their short length, lack substance, especially for a diverse readership. While he asserts that some of the things he finds “downright icky” include “prejudice” and “intolerance,” he presents a world where, largely, he is not part of the problem. He clearly acknowledges inequality: “Even now there are those who are born into a life of abysmal poverty, suffocating hunger and crippling disease. Raised in countries ravaged by violence, hatred and injustice.” But he shows no interest in fully exploring or questioning why these inequities exist. He simply notes how lucky he is. An amusing but uneven collection.
Kirkus Indie, Kirkus Media LLC, 2600 Via Fortuna Suite 130 Austin, TX 78746

The Berry Washer

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Mark Twain once said that the two most important days in your life are the day you are born. . . . and the day you understand why. . . . . Pretty profound. I have just discovered why I am here. I am the berry washer. . . .

Over the years, Donna will sometimes buy raspberries that sit in the refrigerator for weeks. They turn moldy and then we toss them. I’m a blueberry guy myself so raspberries don’t really attract my attention. But often I will wash all the fruit – stick it back in the fridge – and it’s eaten.

This morning, Donna asked if I would wash a container of raspberries. I said “sure” and went to work. And then it happened. . . . . Donna volunteered “you’re much better at washing raspberries than I am.” I blinked. And then it hit me. The wisdom of the ages sparkled in my brain. And in keeping with the admonition of Mark Twain, it dawned on me why I am “here.” I am the berry washer. And here I thought I was just here to make coffee and clean the coffee pot. To kill spiders. Put bowls on the top shelf. Take out the garbage. And carry bags of mulch to the back yard. It is comforting to know that I have a real purpose in life. . . . .

So this Old Guy. . . .

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[A repeat from July 14, 2014] So this old guy goes to the golf course. “I’d love to play,” he says to the pro. “But my eyes are really bad. I hit the ball pretty well but I can’t see where the ball goes.”  The pro smiled – “I’ve got just the guy to pair you up with. Old Scott isn’t much of a golfer but he has got eyes like a hawk. I’ll put you and Scott together.”

So the old guy and Scott are introduced, shake hands and head for the first tee.  The old guy bangs his drive about 250 yards.  He turns to Scott “did you see where it went?”   Scott looks over “I saw precisely where your ball went.”  They get in their golf cart – and start rumbling down the fairway.  They drove and drove.  The old guy looks over at Scott “so where did my ball go?”  Scott rubbed his chin “gosh, I don’t remember. . . .”

Who Should Get Covid Vaccine First?

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Who should get the Covid vaccine first? How about plaintiff’s lawyers? After all – aren’t they needed to sue doctors, nurses, hospitals, nursing homes, restaurants, first responders, and businesses that try to survive by giving work to their employees? More than a thousand cases and class actions have been filed in a matter of months which claim that Covid-related ills are the fault of the aforementioned entities. And heaven knows – there’s lots more to come! Maybe Dick the Butcher (Henry VI by Shakespeare) was right . . . . .

The PhD of Boyhood

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[A repeat from July 13, 2017]  Do you have a son? Grandson?  Want to improve his chance of succeeding in school and as an adult? Encourage him to join the Boy Scouts of America.

In 2012, Baylor University conducted a study of the impact of Boy Scouts – and Eagle Scouts – on society.  The impact was highly positive.  A synopsis of the study can be found at http://www.baylor.edu/mediacommunications/news.php?action=story&story=113239   

The Boy Scouts is by far the largest youth organization in America (2.6 million Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, Explorers and Venturers) and the best youth organization ever devised.  Eagle Scout service projects constitute the largest youth service initiative in history (150 million hours and counting).  And 3 million souls are alive today because they, their parents or grandparents had their lives saved by a Boy Scout.

On November 17, 2015, Michael Malone penned an article for the Wall Street Journal on Scouting.   Malone calls the path to the Eagle Scout award “the Ph.D. of Boyhood.”  I’m glad – make that lucky – I have my Ph.D. . . . .  

As a parent, you could not wish a better activity for your son or daughter than Scouting.  America desperately needs youth – and adults – who abide by the Scout Law – to be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent. Wouldn’t it be nice if our politicians would abide by these principles (see post of September 12, 2011).   

[And as I offered on February 1, 2018, I do believe girls should have the same opportunity to become Eagle Scouts]

Jumping out of airplanes

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First – it wasn’t me. . . . .

[A high flying repeat of April 17, 2014] Last Saturday, Donna, Lauren, Trent, Eve and I drove out to Rock Island, Illinois, for an Augustana College alumni event.  On Sunday morning, we had brunch with friends and started our 3 hour drive home. One of us got very hungry along the way and we decided to stop at the Flight Deck Restaurant which is attached to the Rochelle Municipal Airport (Koritz Field) just off Interstate 88 at Route 251. Airport restaurants are known for good cuisine since pilots will often fly in for a meal and fly back out. Little did we know what adventure was in store. 

We sat and ordered.  Eve was hungry.  And wanted to move.  My granddaughter has one speed.  Fast forward.  So she and Trent walked outside – into a fenced buffer near the taxiway.  And Eve took off running with Trent speed-walking alongside.  I stayed inside – watching out the big window.  And then it happened.  Things started falling out of the sky.  Mercy!  They were sky divers – parachuting down.  Using rectangular (“square ram”) parachutes.  I dashed outside and watched another half dozen or float from the heavens and land — like they stepped off a curb — a sand wedge distance away.  This was a first for Eve.  And it was a first for me.   

We learned that another “stick” of sky divers would be floating down in 20 minutes or so.  It was easy to wait as our lunch arrived. My sandwich was the size of Rhode Island.  We went back out and watched another dozen or more float down and land with precision in the field.  Some were jumping tandem (2 on the parachute).  In all, it was really an incredible experience.  We learned that the airport is home to the Chicagoland Skydiving Center.  Skydivers jump from 18,000 feet(!) and land with pinpoint precision right outside the window of the restaurant. 

I told Donna it would be great to find a little B&B close by, drive out on a Friday and have dinner at the Flight Deck (recommended by the way) and maybe arrange a “jump” on Saturday morning.   The first part was fine.  The last part didn’t go over at all . . . . .

The Desolate Wilderness

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“. . . .they knew they were pilgrims and strangers . . . and looked not much on these things but lifted up their eyes to Heaven, their dearest country, where God hath prepared for them a city (Heb. 9:16) and therein quieted their spirits.

The next day they were on board, and their friends with them, where truly doleful was the sight of that sad and mournful parting. To hear what sighs and sobs and prayers did sound amongst them; what tears did gush from every eye, and pithy speeches pierced each other’s heart, that sundry of the Dutch strangers that stood as spectators could not refrain from tears. . . . .

Being now passed the vast ocean, and a sea of troubles before them in expectations, they had now no friends to welcome them, no inns to entertain or refresh them, no houses, or much less towns, to repair unto to seek for succor; and for the season it was winter. And they that know the winters of the country know them to be sharp and violent, subject to cruel and fierce storms, dangerous to travel to known places, much more to search unknown coasts.

Besides, what could they see but a hideous and desolate wilderness, full of wild beasts and wild men? And what multitudes of them there were, they knew not; for which whatsoever they turned their eyes (save upward to Heaven) they could have but little solace or content.”

— Recorded by Nathaniel Morton, keeper of records of the Plymouth Colony based on the account of William Bradford.

Best wishes for a wonderful and Blessed Thanksgiving!

The Lottery of Birth

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[A repeat from April 9, 2015] I’m lucky.  You who read this post are probably lucky.  You were born into a relatively stable environment. To decent parents. You have an education.  Job.  Family.   Friends.  A religious tradition.  You can travel. And if you get sick, there are doctors to take care of you. The twinkling spark that suddenly became YOU arrived just in the right place.  At the right time.  It was a lottery.  Of birth. 

What if that spark had come to life a hundred years ago. A thousand. For many in those times, they just endured.  Day by day.  Struggling with the things we take for granted today.  Yet even now there are those who are born into a life of abysmal poverty, suffocating hunger and crippling disease.  Raised in countries ravaged by violence, hatred and injustice.  Where every single day may be an arduous, painful and frightening saga.   Do you ever think — that could’ve been me.   

While I go to church on Sunday, I scratch my head over those faith traditions which deny salvation to those not exactly like them.  Can a little boy help if he is born in Totonicapan, Guatemala?  Or to a Hindu family in Rajahmundry, India?  Can we help that we are born Jewish?  Lutheran?  Buddhist?  And if the little girl in Zimbabwe never hears the message of [pick your faith tradition] what does that mean for her eternity?  Her hope of salvation? Is it a closed door?   I wonder how Gabriel might answer that question (see post of 1/30/12).

The Gutenberg Bible

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[A repeat from October 26, 2017] No book has received the attention or acclaim as the Gutenberg Bible.  The first example of mass-produced printing using “movable type,” the Gutenberg Bible is surely the rarest and most unique example of the printing art.  The Gutenberg Bible was first produced by Johannes Gutenberg in the 1450’s with the financial backing of Johann Fust.  The Bible was completed in an “edition” of approximately 180 two volume sets (Old Testament/New Testament) with perhaps 100 on vellum (no one is quite sure).  The great curiosity is that today only 48 are known.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gutenberg_Bible

I first became interested in the Gutenberg Bible when I acquired the rare book room of the Boca Grande (FL) Library in 1984.  The one rarity they would not sell was a page from an original 42 line Gutenberg Bible (grrrrr).  While it is speculated that the remainder of Gutenberg’s Bibles have been destroyed over the centuries, I have my own theory.  I believe that somewhere – out there – there is a copy or two of the Gutenberg Bible.  Lying undiscovered, layered with dust, laced with cobwebs and swarming with dust mites.  My daughter has suggested that I take a sabbatical to hunt for this treasure much as I did in the ’80’s when I traveled to Spain and Portugal every few months on the hunt for manuscript rarities.  I may still do this. . . . 

The last Gutenberg Bible (Old Testament volume only) sold in 1987  for $5.5 million.  Today, one might fetch $30 million.  Individual leaves sell well into five figures.  If and when I find a Gutenberg Bible, I may then go on a quest – to seek out the yet undiscovered ships’ logs from that 1492 voyage of the Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria. . . . .

America’s Funniest Home Videos

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[A repeat from February 21, 2013] While waiting for a carry out order at a restaurant in Boca Grande Florida a few weeks ago, I sat at the bar, sipped on a glass of cab and relaxed.  There were two televisions on.  Above the bar.  Both were tuned to the same program: “America’s Funniest Home Videos.” I’d never watched the program before, so I began to watch — with a tabula rasa. The tabula rasa quickly became a “what the $%^X!&?”

The setting of the show was a glitzy lounge with elegantly-attired people sitting around cocktail tables sipping on what appeared to be champagne or some pseudo bubbly.  And the host played “home videos” while babbling.  Many of the videos involved men being hit where it really hurts (prompting many laughs).   A lot of the clips involved people falling, tripping, slipping or otherwise embarrassing or even hurting themselves (guffaws and belly laughs).  And the elegantly-dressed people would howl and applaud like world peace had just been declared. 

Three men and two women were sitting at the other end of the bar (and not elegantly dressed) — paying rapt attention to the “videos” (which I suspect were for the most part staged).  They were laughing (one guy snorted as he laughed) and howling and poking each other every time someone tripped, fell, was bitten, smacked or fell into water (I think the beer helped inspire these reactions).  Watching this fivesome was more fun than watching “AFHV.” 

My bag of food arrived and I mercifully left — but not without my concluding that “America’s Funniest Home Videos” has got to be one of America’s dumbest programs as well.