My A- for "Gross Illiteracy." (Alternate title: "Playing to a Tough Crowd")

There follows a Facebook conversation I have had over the past 18 months with my high school classmate author Lois Borkan Morris. [Posted with Lois' permission.]

May 12, 2010

 I hope this note finds you well and still thrilled with life. You can read about mine at the link below.
 
Your admirer and friend,

Duncan

Da Da Da Da Life Goes On*

dcmcd2.blogspot.com

May 14, 2010

Lois Borkan Morris

Hi. Your present and immediate future life sound exciting, speaking of thrilled with life. After your note last year about your brother (at Penn), I was about to counter with a bit of bragging about my outrageous radical activist criminal attorney sister, Susan Jordan...but then she died. Now, nearly a year later, I'm beginning to research a memoir about her, her career, our relationship. Much about the 60s, 70s, decisions made and life courses taken. Like there we were in Chicago August 1968, where she was in law school and I had returned to be married to my future ex-husband. Comes the day of the Democratic Convention and she's in the riot and I'm at a bridal shower.


And going back just a handful of years from that, to 1963, there I am writing you a letter in code, Jack Kennedy gets killed, life changes. And keeps changing.


Be well and enjoy your journeys. May we all. //L

July 19, 2011

Duncan C. McDougall

• Lois wrote: "And more: Duncan, how does the current government of and younger generation in Romania deal with the, uh, unpleasant realities of the past?"
  
  There are clearly visible scars in the demeanor of older Romanians, who are still quite reserved and formal in their modes of behavior and communication. Younger college-age (and just beyond) Romanians seem to me to be enjoying their European-hood, are ultra-modern users of the Internet and social media, and are doing a lot of travel in Western Europe. But still, they are pretty down on their country. They find that Romania, and Romanians are denigrated by their Italian "cousins," and that hurts their self-images. (I heard reports of beaches in Italy that had banned Romanians. The Romanians blame their expatriate "gypsies" for this image, but suffer nevertheless from the discrimination.)
  
  Male Romanians tend to be pessimistic. "Those in power are the former Communists, and until they die, things will never really change," is an oft-heard remark. The young men seem to buy into this thesis. They have not learned to take charge in a representative democracy, which can be done by a small minority that votes as a swing-vote block. (Witness Youth in electing B.O. here, and the Tea Party today in giving him fits.) The bureaucracy is huge and lacks a service attitude. The people exist to serve the government, rather than vice-versa.
  
  Female Romanians in the university town I lived in (Cluj) seem far better-adjusted then do men. They really take care of themselves, and they like to be noticed and appreciated by men. Of course, their beauty and charm are not lost on us auslanders, and many end up marrying foreigners and moving abroad. In general, the women evince self-confidence to a much greater degree than do Romanian men.

Those are my personal observations/opinions. Nothing more.


Thanks for asking!

July 20

Lois Borkan Morris

• So interesting, and so different from the Chinese, who make no comments about their government in public or private, as far as I can tell (when I'm drunk in China I understand every word). The younger generation is SO techno and Western-cool. And they're so into money. The older (our) generation that I've met--mostly in the arts--seem wistful. The bad old days were better for the artist than the profit-makes-perfect era.
  
  I've never traveled in eastern Europe, though when I was ed-in-chief for Arthur Frommer publishing, I wrote a guide to Romania in one of our newsletters, info culled from the tourist office in NY. I got more kudos from readers for that than for guides to countries I've been to. Hmm.
  
  Are you returning to Romania? //L

July 21

Duncan C. McDougall

• Yes, I will go back to Romania every chance I get. I love many people there, and it is a beautiful country, especially in Transylvania. Have you seen my photos from there, both in FB and in my blog?
  
  Doing Utmost, Never Caving, Always Nimble



July 21

Lois Borkan Morris

• Yes, I've seen the great photos. Are you going back to teach next semester? But you are coming to the reunion, right?
  
  Thanks for the book plug, by the way...



July 22

Duncan C. McDougall

• Dear LBM:
  
  No thanks needed. Tian/Morris is a great book. A page-turner about opera, of all things! (I have long loved a good biography, and this one I could not put down.)
  
  Yes, I am planning to come to the reunion, where I will attempt to give you a belated hug. Gay Weake and I are to be co-hosting the nearly blind and still beloved Uncle Joe McCloskey, if, as he puts it, he is "still around come October."
  
  I am to be teaching for my New Hampshire university in the fall, but only online MBA courses, so I will be free to accept my daughter's invitation to accompany her to Buenos Aires in September [a trip we decided to postpone for a year], and to fly to Budapest for an accreditation visitation scheduled for the week before our reunion. I hope to go to Europe a week or so early so that I can visit friends in Cluj, which is only a six-hour bus ride from Budapest [a trip recently completed].

Finally, I hope you saw my "then" in "seem better-adjusted then do men" as a typo. I would have circled it in a student's paper. ;-)

-DcMcD



July 25

Lois Borkan Morris

• So glad you liked the book, Duncan. What an interesting job to write someone's memoir who didn't remember the context of what was going on around him, because he was a child, and whose childhood I researched, finding details that at first he fought me on, such as the specific actions the Red Guard took against named teachers at the middle schools he went to (oh I do love research).
  
  I remember Mr. McCloskey with great respect and affection. I had him for English senior year, I think it was. Were you in class with me?
  
  Buenos Aires (good opera city, btw), Budapest, Cluj, Chicago--eek, but surely advernturous.
  
  I have given you an A- minus for your then/than mixup--or I would have in junior year English at NT, where Mr. Jensen (who also taught German) had a list of Gross Illiteracies. But since the advent of email and texting and all that, your personal suffering will suffice. 
  
  
   

Class of 1961

Reporting today from Northbrook, Illinois, where I am attending the 50th reunion of the New Trier High School Class of 1961.  We graduated 980-strong, and went our separate ways in a time of optimism and prosperity in America, and from today's perspective, in a less complicated world.  Some 150 from the class have returned to this Chicago suburb to share memories.  Those who are here look remarkably good, and seem to have weathered the years rather well.  Many are retired, but some (including Yours, Truly) are still working.

Gay Weake, Your Blogger, and Ann Rheinstrom, all NT '61

Last night we had a "meet & greet" here at the Renaissance Hotel, where the star turned out to be Mr. Joseph McCloskey, 89, a beloved English teacher whom Gay Weake and I invited to attend.  Scores of his former students kept him surrounded for almost four hours, and he seemed to enjoy the experience greatly.  "Uncle Joe," as he used to ask us to call him, was the sort of teacher who demanded that we read good books, and think about them, that we learn new words, and retain them, that we write good English, and that we express ourselves clearly, but he never told us what to think.  He was among my mentors.  I was thrilled to find him in good spirits, and so clear of mind.  He is now legally blind, and suffering from a "touch" of Parkinson's disease, but last night, you would not have known it.

Today we toured NT, where our class had been the first in the "new" tower building, and the first freshman class to see and use the magnificent auditorium.  We visited the balcony of the swimming pool, where a picture of me with "six-pack abs" still graces a wall of champions from the years that I was diving on the NT Swimming team. 

Now, I must pull on my formal duds and get downstairs, for the ride to the dinner dance leaves soon.

The Teacher is Eastbound, Yet Again

Today, I confess to being emotionally and professionally stressed.

Most immediately, I am deeply saddened by the death this week of the 25 year-old son of a beloved colleague.  Tom Perkins was a classmate at Plymouth High School of our youngest son, Alex.  The body of Tom Perkins was found Thursday after a three-day search, following an apparent rock-climbing accident while climbing solo on some cliffs in nearby Rumney, New Hampshire.  His father Dan Perkins is a brilliant professor of music at Plymouth State University, and is my friend.  I can only imagine the pain of Dan's loss, and when I do, I weep for him and his family.

My upcoming departure next Tuesday for a week in Eastern Europe also has me emotional, for I will take a few days to visit Cluj, Romania, before seeing to academic duties for the ACBSP at a business school in Budapest, Hungary.  These emotions are pleasant ones, thank God.  I look forward to renewing many friendships in Cluj, insofar as possible in only three days' time.

Then, there is my teaching.  I am happy to report that my two fall online MBA courses are both full, and that my students have proven thus far to be punctual in their posting to case forums, and remarkably willing to dig into the case data, both quantitatively and managerially.  It will take some juggling of my time to keep both courses current while I travel for the next week, but then, past classes have complimented my tap-dancing in the classroom, so how hard can it be to juggle?

What I did last Summer 3: Still Downeast in Maine in May

Little Toot?

Still alone in Maine:
After remounting, with Chip Skinner's help, the pond dock to its concrete base at Wick's pond, I took a few shots at Treetops, then rode to Spruce Head, and on into Rockland, and took a few more.

The Cove from Treetops' Deck.  The tide was in.

And six hours later it was out.

Treetops

Treetops' Deck

My wheels, as seen from the kitchen.

Lobster boat in Spruce Head Harbor

Self explanatory.

McLoon's of Spruce Head

Coast Guard  Cutter in Rockland Harbor. Semper Paratus.

Victory Chimes: a sailing ship, now used for dinner cruises, etc.

She started life as a coastal freighter, hauling lumber.

What I Did Last Summer At Sunrise

Also last May, I awoke one morning needing a haircut.  Living here in Greater Plymouth, New Hampshire, we are blessed to have locally a semi-retired barber named Peter Minickiello, who works only three days a week, but opens his shop at 5:30 AM.  It was one of Pete's workdays, so before dawn I drove out and got my haircut.  As I left the shop, the following sunrise greeted me in Peter's West Plymouth driveway.

What I Did Last Summer, Part 1

I apologize to all who follow this blog for my long absence.  Tonight I have just completed my first class of the fall MBA term here at Plymouth State University.  I have been sipping black coffee for two hours, and thus have both mind and body well stimulated.  I couldn't go to sleep now if I tried, so I've decided to break my silence and spill stream-of-consciousness memories into the blog in hopes that I can later add illustrations to back up my claims of an absurdly busy summer for a man of 68 years.

Maine Trip 1.  May, 2011

In May I went to Maine to repair the pond dock at the Tenant's Harbor home of my friend Wickham.  We built this dock a few years ago to my design, and while it looked great and served well for awhile, it seems I left a weak spot... screws too small and too short secured the deck boards to the frame, and then the hinges mounting the dock to the concrete base were lagged into the deck boards, and only the deck boards.  So, when a rainy season came, the forces acting on the hinges popped the first couple of deck boards loose, and the floating dock was set adrift.  Fortunately, it is in a small pond on Wick's property, so it did not go out to sea and become a hazard to navigation.  However, a local beaver found it resting in the reeds some 50 yards from its base, and decided that its end, a swimming raft, would make an excellent roof for his lodge.  He proceeded to secure it to the bottom with a maze of small birch and poplar logs.  So, when I rowed over to it, I found the dock/raft assembly almost impossible to dislodge (note the appropriate wording), and to tow back to its proper location.  Wick was in Ireland that week, so I was working alone.

Picture this whole assembly snagged in the reeds on the far right.

.

I thought about the situation awhile, and decided that from the shore I might have sufficient strength to break things loose, so I went into Rockland and visited Spear's Lumber and Hardware.  I bought forty feet of line, a pair of rubber fishing boots, and some mighty fine lag bolts and washers.  Back at the pond, I put on my new boots, rowed back out, tied one end of the line to the dock, then rowed close enough to shore to hurl the rest of the coiled line up onto the shore.  Sure enough, all the rockng and pushing I had earlier done on the raft had loosened things up. and with just a modest effort at the shore end of the rope, I had her broken loose and afloat.  I pulled that sucker back to its home base, and faced the next challenge: how to hold her in place as I drove a first lag bolt down through the hinge and into the frame of the dock.

She's well screwed now, if you ask me.

I have to admit that progress was lagging, before Chip appeared on the scene.  Chip is Wick's grandson, a strapping lad of about twenty, or so.  He was over at Wick's to cut a bit of firewood, and a good thing, too.  With Chip's help, running out onto the raft and securing the line to it so he could hold her steady for me, the job of remounting it to its base proved a snap.  And, now I have new fishin' boots.

Tricorner Weekend

Silvio aboard 1990 750 Sport

From Martellago, Italy, came Silvio.  From Isla Contadora, Panama, came Melinda.  From Campton, New Hampshire, came Duncan, to meet last Friday at Boston's Logan International Airport.  (I had the shorter trip.)

It was great to see Melinda once again, and to meet her fiance, Silvio.  I am happy to report that Meli, my beloved former teaching assistant from my Fulbright Year in Romania, has chosen a fine young businessman as her beau.  We had only two days together, but they were good ones.

We took advantage of perfect weather to ride the Franconia Notch - Bretton Woods - Conway - Sandwich loop around the southern White Mountain Region on Saturday.  Silvio, though less than a week post-crash (off of his Husqvarna 510cc Motard), proved up to riding some 150 miles on my Ducati 750 Sport.  Meli and I took my Suzuki GS1100E (so that we would ride on a matching red motorcycle).  Melinda has posted many pictures in facebook from this day.

Shirl and Piper McD.

Budweiser, Silvio and Melinda

On Sunday we drove with Shirl to Kittery, Maine, for a lobster lunch with our daughter Piper, who was visiting for a few days with friends here in New England from her home in Colorado.

Thank you, Silvio and Melinda, for coming to New Hampshire.  We wish you a long and happy life together!