Keillor brings Lake Wobegon's Fourth of July to hilarious life

"Liberty,"

by Garrison Keillor

Before another Fourth of July comes around, give Garrison Keillor permission to tickle your funny bone.

"Liberty" will test your housemates' willingness to allow you to laugh aloud for extended periods without calling for the men in the white jackets.

It's the story of an Independence Day celebration -- and the preparation for the big event -- in Lake Wobegon, the fictional Minnesota hamlet Keillor has made famous on public radio's "A Prairie Home Companion" show.

Those familiar with Keillor's weekly monologue will recognize many of the characters.

The hero of this fun read is mechanic Clint Bunsen. He's the architect of one of the most successful Fourth of July parades in the nation, but he's bruised a few egos along the way, and some of the townsfolk are out to depose him.

Some don't like, for example, that he's thrown out the cavalcade of farmers driving their John Deeres down Main Street and replaced them with more exciting acts -- the St. Cloud Shriners Precision Rider Mower Unit, for example -- and they are out to get Clint even though he's made Lake Wobegon's Fourth so spectacular that CNN is sending a crew to cover it for the second straight year.

No good deed goes unpunished

In typical Lake Wobegon fashion the culture of the town won't allow room for an individual to enjoy too much success, and no idea is ever allowed to be presented without its downside casting a dark shadow over any potential good outcome.

Keillor has the naysayers down pat.

In a lovely passage that describes those who accuse Bunsen of being a tyrant as he chairs the parade committee, Keillor's familiarity with Scripture and his insight into human frailty burst off the page:

"If they had been at the Sermon on the Mount when Jesus brought forth the miracle of the loaves and fishes, they would've thought, 'Did he wash his hands. Where are the napkins? How long was that fish cooked?'"

Sound familiar?

Fair warning: Keillor's imaginative libido has his hero stumbling off the marital-fidelity track, and some readers may be offended by some of the frank and explicit language in this Viking book.

On the whole, though, "Liberty" offers a commentary on humanity that points society in the right direction by shining a spotlight on those times when we and our neighbors fail to be all that the creator gave us the potential to be.

And it's hilarious. -- bz

Golf book offers chance to sharpen your short game with God

"And God Said Tee It Up!",

by Gary Graf

Gary Graf is not a theologian, nor does he pretend to be.

But he's done a whale of a job of research about both great memories in professional golf history and down-to-earth spirituality that move readers painlessly from the the fairway to reflecting on their own relationship with God.

The stories about golf's great moments and the detail that describes the particular holes at great golf courses like St. Andrew's, Winged Foot, Troon, Oakmont and Pebble Beach are likely to be gobbled up by sports fans.

When it comes to connecting those moment to faith, Graf takes more of a regular-guy, meat-and-potatoes approach. A scholar might take exception to linking which club to use to appreciating all the gifts God gives us, but you know, it's really not all that much of a stretch. And Greg Norman's dying -- in the Masters -- and rising to terrific success in several businesses is a good reminder of not only Jesus' dying and rising but our own.

As Graf writes, "Granted, Norman's fall and subsequent rise are but poor human analogies to something divine and mysterious. But each and every day we must die to something old and rise to something new. . . . Life presents us with the opportunity for rebirth, if we are open to it. As for Jesus, paradoxically his most devastating moment -- his crucifixion -- was the catalyst for his crowning glory."

Take a hole at a time

Each chapter heading is a hole on a golf course -- including the 19th, the post-match session in the clubhouse to congratulate and commiserate -- and that makes for 19 short reading sessions if you read a chapter at a time.

That would be a good way to play -- I mean, read -- "And God Said Tee It Up!"

You can only absorb so many golf facts and so much golf history in one setting before they become a blur, and that will give you time to reflect on the spiritual points that Graf offers for pondering in each chapter.

The stories of Lee Trevino, Payne Stewart, Arnold Palmer and more are good copy, as are the background anecdotes about the naming of holes called "The Pulpit" and "The Valley of Sin," the berms called "Church Pews," and the course called "The Sistine Chapel of Golf" -- Cypress Point Club at Pebble Beach, where "every hole is a work of art."

Thanks to Acta Publications for being willing to get "Tee It Up" into print. -- bz

What was it like to be pioneering man in the West?

"As Big as the West:

The Pioneer Life of Granville Stuart,"

by Clyde A. Milner II & Carol A. O'Connor

Granville Stuart, like thousands of others in the mid-1800s, dreamed of making it big in that great expanse of the western territory of the United States.

Stuart had yet a bigger dream than most; he wanted to be important, not just rich.

When mining for precious metals didn't earn as much of a fortune as he thought it should, he sought wealth and esteem in cattle ranching. Hobnobbing with the likes of Teddy Roosevelt as a founding member of the Montana Stockgrowers Association, Stuart did well for himself -- but just for a while.

An ego as big as the West?

This meticulously researched account of Stuart's life story could double as an early history of the state of Montana. Stuart felt he had played a huge role in that history -- and it might be a recognition he deserved, too -- but his reach never quite realized his ambition, either in wealth or fame.

Rather than Stuart's life being "as big as the West," as this Oxford University Press title suggests, maybe it was Stuart's ego that was that size.

Along the way Milner and O'Connor's history bears important information about the land-grabbing practices and the abuse of native peoples, the assumed racial superiority of Caucasians of the time -- and ours? -- over Indians, vigilante justice, and the rise and fall of fortunes thanks to the boom and bust of the industries that were supposed to make millions for investors back down the Missouri and points east.

Stuart's ego surfaced in politics, too. Always feeling he deserved government jobs because of his work for the Democratic Party, Stuart wasn't shy about asking for positions in government at any level, and he was sometimes rewarded and other times ignored in his quests.

Who can explain how this failed rancher from the middle of Montana is, in the 1890s, appointed the U.S. minister to Uruguay and Paraguay!

Is this a great country, or what? -- bz

What are people thinking? McNabb's short stories offer insight into others - and ourselves

"the body of this,"
by Andrew McNabb


Andrew McNabb penetrated the heads of dozens of characters, discovered their thoughts, and reports his findings in “the body of this.”

Often, it’s brilliant.

It’s writing filled both with humanity and a sense of place, descriptive in a way that refuses to ignore who and what we pass by everyday but fail to see.

Especially who.

The setting for most of the often very brief short stories in McNabb’s collection (published in paperback by Warren Machine Company) is Portland, Maine – and the old portion of Portland. The people whose minds McNabb has invaded are God’s people – church-going, Catholic people – and for the most part believable and real.

Meet some faith-filled folk

Take Terry, the central character of one short story who takes the approach to customer service that “could only, only be provided by loving your neighbor with all your might.”

Meet Lydia, the immigrant trying to dress well and fit in at high school.

There's Frank, the lonely senior citizen serving food to the needy in the church basement who feels misunderstood.

And that young couple who decorated the baby’s room in anticipation of their first child only to…no, you’d better read that one yourself.

Lots of winners, but not all

McNabb writes some pretty weird stuff, too. When someone can bring together both reality and a sense of imagination the way he can, a reader has to wonder why he stoops to vulgarity at times.

It’s offensive. And unnecessary.

I say unnecessary because the empathy McNabb has for what some might call the least of God’s people is truly eye-opening, a blessing for his readers.

His insight into America’s obsession with losing weight is gorgeously brought out in the little more than four pages of the tightly written “Habeas Corpus.”

And the first-person story about a lottery winner – “It’s What It Feels Like” – is a marvelously-told piece of work that’s more about marriage – and the sometimes one-sideness of marriage – than about winning millions.

Is it what it looks like?

Or is it what it feels like?

And how about us?

What are all those people thinking, the ones we live with, the ones we work with and study with and volunteer with – and love?

What's really on their minds?– bz

Power of the presidency comes alive in history of Andrew Jackson

"American Lion,"
by Jon Meacham

As a new American president takes the stage, reading a history of an American president some 180 years prior is an enlightening joy.
Watching Barack Obama utilize his mandate from the 2008 election has been the perfect backdrop for going back in time to learn how -- in 1828 and during the eight years of two terms Andrew Jackson showed many U.S. presidents how the power of the presidency might be used to lead.
A youth during the War of Independence, a hero of the War of 1812 and a renown Indian fighter, the man those close to him called "the General" won the popular vote as well as the electoral vote in two elections, and he never let it be forgotten by those who disagreed with his reasoning.
Meacham paints a thorough portrait of Old Hickory -- warts and all -- yet his loving brush strokes are obvious. Readers, too, will find much to admire in Andrew Jackson, yet much for which to find fault with him as well, and that's to the historian Meacham's credit: He lets Jackson be human, not all good, not all bad, but multi-dimensional.

One way: Jackson's
Jackson was the break-through candidate, the one who saw the president as the representative of the people against entrenched interests. He took that mandate from his election as a voucher giving him the right to make changes -- and that he did.
Coming from his Tennessee home (the Hermitage) to a Washington that was just decades old but already seemingly set in its ways -- particularly with regard to who had a "right" to government jobs -- Jackson made it plain that he do things differently -- and his way. Hundreds of long-time government staff found they were replaced by Jackson appointees, for one thing. That was new.
When it came to Congress, Jackson initiated greater use of the veto, enhancing presidential power: In 40 years no more than four or five Acts of Congress had been vetoed by six presidents; Jackson vetoed four in three days.

A man of firsts
Jackson was the first Democrat, and might be credited -- for good or ill -- as the one who started party-line voting, and a president who offered favors for votes in Congress.
During the election year of 1832, when he sought a second term, Jackson broke with tradition and initiated the first presidential campaign tour. Not willing to let others do his bidding, Jackson made the barbecue circuit, shaking hands and being seen as he made his way from his home in Tennessee to Washington and elsewhere. In New York City, one observer likened a Jackson torchlight parade to Catholic processions.
The campaign of 1832 may be where image first played a major role in how Americans voted. Jackson's men repeated the message that "a vote for Jackson was a vote for the people while a vote for (Henry) Clay was a vote for the privileged," Meacham noted.
Jackson understood the power of his personality and how the power of personality gave a president power.

Pro-slavery, anti-Indian
Along the way, though, President Andrew Jackson made what today society would say were serious errors -- even immoral ones.
For one thing, Jackson was a slave owner and upheld the practice of slavery. He moved to curb the forces of abolition, even suppressing with presidential orders the right of printed material to be delivered from abolitionist writers.
He also saw Native Americans as just in the way of the progress of white U.S. citizens, and his policies and practices led to cruel resettlement of Indian tribes. The "Trail of Tears" -- the forced removal of the Cherokee to the west -- was a shameful result of Jackson's Indian policy though it took place a year after he left office. An estimated 4,000 of the 16,000 Cherokees forced out of Georgia died along the way due to brutal treatment by the U.S. military.
Reading of his life now, though, is a good reminder, Meacham points out, "that evil can appear perfectly normal to even the best men and women of a given time."
Ironically, despite his own participation in slavery, Jackson is also credited with preventing the southern states from seceding from the Union. When South Carolina felt compelled to reject Acts of Congress, Jackson stamped down and denied that any state had the right to do that.
When the tariff on southern cotton proved to be a divisive issue that could lead to succession, Jackson worked out a compromise that cooled tempers.

He is still with us
For my taste, too much of Meacham's work pays attention to the pettiness of Washington society and how it impacted Jackson's cabinet and household.
But Meacham shines in showing how Jackson has influenced and continues to influence the presidents of the United States:
-- Running at the head of a national party;
-- Fighting for a mandate from the people to govern in a particular way on particular issues;
-- Depending on a circle of insiders and advisers;
-- Mastering the media of the age to transmit a consistent message at a constant pace;
-- Using the veto as a political weapon.
"He gave his most imaginative successors the means to do things they thought right," Meacham noted, citing examples of Theodore Roosevelt, Franklin Roosevelt, and Harry Truman as evidence.

A man of prayer
Readers interested in Jackson's spirituality will find consistent references in "American Lion" that show the seventh president to have been a man of prayer.
Jackson's rhetoric regularly includes mention of the Almighty, he is seen in prayer and frequently a nearby church, though he didn't join a particular denomination -- Baptist -- until after he left office. His reasoning? He didn't want it to look like he was joining just to improve his image.
One wonderful anecdote that captures a whiff of Jackson's spirituality and a large bite of his sense of power is told upon his death near the end of the 360 pages of prose in this Random House book. Meacham writes:
"In Nashville, according to legend, a visitor to the Hermitage asked a slave on the place whether he thought Jackson had gone to heaven. 'If the General wants to go,' the slave replied, 'who's going to stop him?'" -- bz