Happy and/or Holy Holidays 2007-2008

This photo is what you may or may not receive in an envelope along with our somewhat annual letter/card for the holidays. It goes like this:

'Twas the year 2007 and with our usual shtick,
Here's our annual letter along with a pick.
(The event was the wedding of Zaid & Amelia.
MJ was the Parson who pronounced them "Zamelia".

You see, Mary Jo was ordained in our house,
On a spiritual website, with a click of the mouse.
So now while she arbitrates , knits, weaves or spins
She just might agree to forgive you your sins.

Tony's here in Med School (he has his white coat),
And Erica's ed. doctorate is not so remote.
Angie's in SF, her life still awhirl,
You can give it a look-see at one of these URLs:
http://www.newprogressivecoalition.com/
http://schiavonifiles.blogspot.com/

In Feb. Jim turned 60 and now's unemployed
But he's a pensioner, baby, and so not annoyed.
This fall he and MJ toured Canada and the U.P.
Went rock pickin' and camping on the shores of Gitch Gumee

So as we all wonder what the New Year portends
Here's to the health and happiness of family and friends
And as we close this epistle with one final rhyme

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL...AND TO ALL, A GOOD TIME.

Jim & Mary Jo

P.S. We hope this ain't cryptic, a drag or a bore,
but email or call us if you want to know more.
sturvoni@tds.net

October 18, 1967: Dow Day

Forty years ago, just about this time, 2 p.m., Ron Hughes and I were in Bascom Hall in a Spanish Literature class. We had been in Madison a little more than a month. Living away from home for the first time. And we were 20 years old (two years at "the Stench"; the University of Wisconsin, Marathon County Center but previously the University "Extension", hence, the Stench). Four guys (incl. Tom Jehn and Bruce Green) from Wausau sharing a two bunkroom apartment at The Regent, a glossily promoted upscale dorm kinda place dangled by our guidance counselor as a cool place to live. And four green guys from the Northwoods bought into it.
So...here we were. In Spanish Lit and listening to considerable noise and commotion in the parking lot three stories below. We know that the Dow company was interviewing and recruiting at the business school next door and students had been picketing that manufacturer of napalm. We also knew one of the picketers, Roland Olson, big brother of another Regent foursome from Wausau, Matt Olson. Roland was unusual because he was carrying an infant (not many little kids on campus back then and he was the first of our generation that we knew wearing wire rim glasses). The prof said that important things were happening and he would let us go early, but he did not. The bell finally rang and we ran outside Bascom Hall and were confronted with a very angry, very loud and very large crowd of students whose focus was a paddy wagon with students visible in the windows and ringed by armed cops with helments and face shields. I had never seen emotions so intense in a group of people although high school football games begged for a silly comparison.
Anyway, after a few minutes of orientation and, mostly, confusion, I heard a pop and then a smoking object landed about six feet to my right near the curb of the drive. Holy shit! It was tear gas and then more pops and more smoking cannisters. Chaos! Hughes went in one direction and I another, northeast, toward the lake, which happened to be upwind, which allowed me to escape the gas after running about ten yards into the trees. People were, of course, screaming in rage as well as pain and I managed to help a few people to their feet.
The crowd generally dispersed, but mainly into small groups talking and arguing about what the hell was going on. I was not particularly politicized about Viet Nam yet but I was now confronted with it. Yes, it was traumatic. My first act of rebellion followed as I made my troubling walk back to the Regent. I bought my first pack of cigarettes, Salems, and, dammit, lit one up.

Up North

So I'm heading out into the woods tomorrow. Finally for a period longer than a 3-day week-end. Got plans to do things like build a funky woodshed, repair stuff, hike around, maybe even fish; although fishing to me is almost as much work as felling trees and splitting firewood, which I really do enjoy. Gotta check out the beaver pond on the back forty and see if the water level as risen enough to give the beavs any problem with their dams. They have two dams now within 20 feet of each other. The lower one captures a small tributary that flows in, very slowly, beneath the much larger structure so they have created a rather sizable body of water. There is a convenient tree to lean back on there and just soak it all in. Total nature immersion. And there are no invasive species (save for me) that I recognize. No buckthorn, honeysuckle, wild grape or locust. Just sugar maple, birch, oak, alder and basswood. And blueberries, wintergreen, lycopodium, mosses, lichen and rocks. And deerflies and mosquitos at certain times, too. Keeps out the riff-raff. But the sandhill crane family, loons, turkeys and bald eagles offset the insects, somewhat. And we have a sizeable black bear hanging around the neighborhood, too.

The moon is waxing and I'll be up there when it's full on the 28th. Won't see as many stars but I'll be able to walk around at night without a flashlight. Of course, its likely to be overcast and, therefore, no night sky to speak of. But I have a lot to read (current novel: Orhan Pamuk's "The Black Book) and a lot to ponder...and hummingbirds to feed.

ट्रांस्लितेरेशन Transliteration

Transliteration...or, how did I acquire the ability to render this in Hindi? Threw me off my game. Changed the title from something about crickets. Finally figured it out. दुह । Crickets are almost constant now here in southern Wisconsin। They ratchet up their sawsound about the time the back-to-school sales begin and football news starts crowding the pennant races। But I am sadly unilingual and am as likely to carry on a conversation in a language other than English as carry on a discourse with crickets. You know the joke ( I heard it in the film The Blue Diner ): You ask "what do you call someone who speaks two languages?"; the answer, of course, is 'bilingual'. Then you ask the same for three languages, answer; trilingual. Many languages? Multilingual. Then you ask "what do you call someone who speaks and understands one language? The answer..."American". There are those "americans" who are so obsessesed with creating a law that would make English the national language. Must be because its the only one we know. Its kinda hard calling someone who speaks or understands more languages than you, ignorant.

Speaking of cultural differences...what's up with americans and anise? Anise, fennel or licorice, that wonderful, universal flavor whether from licorice root or anise/fennel plant, shows up just about everywhere I've traveled or sampled off liquor store shelves but it is getting more difficult to find even a Twizzler licorice in a convenience store or pitstop anymore. And "red licorice" is not licorice, godammit. Italy even had licorice Skittles! And in different flavors. Consider mint licorice. Alcoholwise, Italy has Sambuco; France, Pernod; Turkey, Raki; Greece, Ouzo. What does America have? Anisette. Little more than a flavoring agent. And for what? There seems to be a national aversion to anise flavored anything. At least in the mass market. And why? As a nation of immigrants why hasn't anise stayed with the population. Could it be that immigrants weren't fleeing religious persecution or economic disasters but anise? Sometimes I wonder...

Passages

In the month of June 2007, four of the Schiavoni/Sturm/Johnson/Maxwell clan pictured in a photo of a photo from about 15 years ago celebrated their respective milestones of graduations, a marriage and an enlistment. The photo photo was taken at Nick Schiavoni's high school granduation. In the holiday photo, he's fourth from left on cousin Bri Schiavoni's lap. At his graduation party, June 16, the valedictorian & boxing champ posed with his posse. The bluish guy at far left in the old photo, Zamilia (Zaid Maxwell & Amelia Styer) were married in Chicago on June 30. No contemporary photo of Ohio college grad, Mark Schiavoni was available. He did not have a party. He's on Angie Schiavoni's lap 5th from right. Next to Mark, on Tony Sturm's lap is Gabe Johnson. Young Gabe joined the Navy in June and left his tearful mother, Lisa Schiavoni, shortly after Nick's graduation blowout. Lisa says she cried when he left but would cry harder if Gabe is returned.

Congrats, of course, to all, including everyone else who may not have had so obvious a transition as these four or who did not have the good fortune to stumble in front of my camera during their respective festivities. Those in the "Holidays in Wisconsin" photo photo not mentioned, Joe and Dan Schiavoni and Max Johnson, were huge influences on the level of revelry at each and every event they attend. As did Tony, Angie and Bri who donated their laps to their l'il cousins so long ago. Although Gabe's passage was not shared by the rest of the family in the form of a hall and a DJ, it is understood that he shared his joy in joining the Navy with the rest of north central Florida around his Gainesville home. And, although he did not have a college graduaton party, Mark was give a bash just like his brothers four years earlier.

And how about the Reverend Mary Jo Schiavoni who conducted the Zamelia wedding ceremony? After seconds of rigorous study she was ordained online just days before their Chicago wedding. And a spectacular wedding it was. My photos of both events are on my web album which are open to the public but I cannot, for the moment recall how to link it up. Prosit!

Greensburg, Kansas

June 4, 2007: We left Albuquerque at 9 a.m., passed through the panhandles of Texas and Oklahoma and into Kansas on U.S. 54 and we're getting hungry. All the towns listed in the Atlas are small or virtual ghost towns with no cafes. But Greensburg is listed on most mileage signs and at a crossroads so that's our goal figuring that, if it merits a sign, it must have a place to eat. We're looking for Kansas steaks, by the way. At Bucklin, eight miles before Greensburg, we find an open cafe with meat and potatoes and chow down. I pick up the Hutchinson, KS Leader, the local paper, and the headline has a One Month Ago Today headline with a big photo of a flattened Greensburg. The tornado struck Greensburg on May 4. We drove the eight miles. Highway 54 goes right through Greensburg's north end. The grain elevator (every town in Kansas, seems to have one) on the north end was the only structure to appear to be undamaged. Everything else was mostly flattened with just a few beat-up structures for relief. It was similar to what I saw of Katrina over 90 miles on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, meaning it was total destruction. There's nothing left for a round 2. Greensburg had a high school and a city hall. Just some brick walls remained. The Guard or Army Reserves has trucks and tents on the track and foot ball field. The rest of the photos I took will be on my photo site.

Off to see the Lizards

Hey, I have a photo blog http://picasaweb.google.com/sturvoni/OkefenokeeKayakRide?pli=1but have only one of many albums submitted. For now. And we're off, too, to the Bay Area, to see the wizards and wizardesses of that Ozzie land. After 4 days or so of hanging with the Turners, Tony, Erica, and Angie, its another Road Trip! To the Grand Canyon, Carol in Sedona and Merle in Albuquerque.