Monthly Archives: May 2018

A Trip to Patience and Fortitude

by Woody

Is your Club or Group looking for an inspiring guest speaker or do you want to host a book signing? . . . Contact Woody today!

* * *

1StrawberriesCoverWooden-&-Me-cover-mock-upFor a Personalized Autographed copy of “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME” or “WOODEN & ME” mail a check for $25 to:

Woody Woodburn

400 Roosevelt Court

Ventura, CA 93003

* * *

A Trip to Patience and Fortitude

Second in a series of columns chronicling my recent travels from Paul Revere’s gravesite in Boston to John Steinbeck’s writing cabin in Long Island, and more.

*   *   *

Patience and Fortitude are the nicknames of the two grand marble lions regally standing guard before the New York Public Library’s entrance on Fifth Avenue.

Fortitude and patience, lower case, were also part of my maiden visit to our nation’s largest public library. I had intended to go the previous spring, but en route on the subway my right index finger was filleted by the train’s doors. An urgent detour for 16 stitches derailed my plans.

Eleven months later, my patience was rewarded. Again visiting my son in Manhattan, I again headed to the lion sentries. This time, I avoided mishap on the subway.

Exiting the station, however, was a different matter. In the shadows of skyscrapers, I had no idea which direction was my intended west. The fourth person I asked for help, a young woman, pointed me off with the assuredness of a compass.

Moments later, I flinched at a tapping on my shoulder. It was the young woman. Realizing she had erred, and defying the rude New Yorker stereotype, she had hustled two blocks out of her way – in heels! – to catch up and turn me around.1lionsNYPL.com

Days earlier, the Boston Athenaeum, that city’s original library dating back to 1805, had taken my breath away. The New York Public Library, founded in 1895, knocked me out. It is not a library so much as a museum.

Patience and Fortitude out front are complimented inside by a collection of masterful bronze statues and marble busts. Too, priceless paintings and monumental murals abound.

Even the ceilings are artworks. The dome of the McGraw Rotunda, for example, brings to mind the Sistine Chapel. The Rose Main Reading Room, meanwhile, surpasses the rotunda roof. Nearly the length of a football field, its ceiling features exquisite wood carving and gilded tiling forming an elegant frame around a painted blue sky filled with clouds.

It is my experience that travels take on themes and have common threads, some intentional and others serendipitous. Occasionally these threads weave together past trips with present ones. So it was this time.

Just as the Boston Athenaeum has on prominent display a statue of George Washington, the New York Public Library features two oil-on-canvas portraits of our first president by Rembrandt Peale. This shared thread appeared front and center in the Salomon Room: to the left, Washington in his general’s uniform; beside it on the right, in dress attire.1GWasington

Another interwoven strand surprisingly appeared: Henry David Thoreau. Two summers past, I visited the writer’s revered cabin site in Concord, Mass. Now, on exhibit in the New York Public Library, I saw an 1854 first edition of “Walden; or, Life In the Woods.”

Other artifacts on display from Thoreau’s life included two pages from his voluminous journal that became the manuscript of his most famous book; a letter to his friend, Ralph Waldo Emerson; a daguerreotype portrait, taken in 1856, of a bearded Thoreau in a suit jacket and bowtie.

Many of these items – plus a pencil actually made by Thoreau – I had not seen on my previous pilgrimage to Walden Pond. The best travels have such surprises.

Around the corner from Thoreau’s pencil was a temporary exhibit titled “Peace, Love, and Revolution” about the 1960s. Among the memorabilia was novelist and screenwriter Terry Southern’s typewriter.

The bulky Olympia unexpectedly proved to be a sentence that connected past pages of my travels with the next paragraph on this road trip.

* * *

Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden & Me Kickstarter Front PhotoCheck out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

Lined Up Like Abandoned Books

by Woody

Is your Club or Group looking for an inspiring guest speaker or do you want to host a book signing? . . . Contact Woody today!

* * *

1StrawberriesCoverWooden-&-Me-cover-mock-upFor a Personalized Autographed copy of “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME” or “WOODEN & ME” mail a check for $25 to:

Woody Woodburn

400 Roosevelt Court

Ventura, CA 93003

* * *

Lined Up Like Abandoned Books

The juxtaposition was unexpected and poignant.

I was inside the Boston Athenaeum, the city’s original library dating back to 1805 and located atop famous Beacon Hill. In the grand atrium stands a larger-than-life statue of George Washington before a tall wall of windows overlooking a cemetery below.

And therein lies the juxtaposition: the headstones, lined up in row after row adding up to 2,300 markers in all, come into focus like books on the library’s myriad of shelves.

Founded in 1660, Granary Burial Ground is the third oldest cemetery in Boston. Too, it is one of the most eminent as evidenced by a bronze plaque at the iron-fenced entrance: “Within This Ground Are Buried John Hancock, Samuel Adams And Robert Treat Paine, Signers Of The Declaration Of Independence.”1washington

A map and signposts guide visitors to these noteworthy gravesites, but the balance of tombstones remain as overlooked as old volumes forgotten on library shelves.

Initially, I was drawn to the popular books, so to speak.

First up, to the right after entering the gates, was an unpolished stone the size of a couch cushion with a plaque: “Here Lies Samuel Adams / Signer of the Declaration of Independence / Governor of the Commonwealth / A Leader of Men and an Ardent Patriot / Born 1722 Died 1803.”

Furthest, in the back and directly below the Boston Athenaeum’s statue of Washington, stands a lovely chest-high white pedestal inscribed: “Paul Revere / Born In Boston January 1734 / Died May 1818.” A small American stick flag of the sort a child might wave on the Fourth of July was stuck in the ground on this April day.

I had traveled to Boston to watch our nation’s oldest marathon. As I stood in the cold rain at Mile 22, waiting for a brief glimpse of my son running by, a similarity struck me with Granary Burial Grounds: While the spectators all cheered loudly for the race leaders, much like all the cemetery visitors flocked to pay respects to Revere and Adams and Hancock, the rest of the runners went largely unacknowledged individually except by family and friends.

This is too bad, for each of the 26,948 runners surely had an inspiring story to tell in reaching the venerable 2018 Boston Marathon. Likewise, each now-forgotten grave marker surely has a life story worth telling buried beneath it.

After cheering extra for marathoners who “hit the wall,” I was inspired to return to Granary Burial Ground. This time, I paused at tombstones that were falling over or chipped or had inscriptions erased by summer’s rains and winter’s snows.1graves

Venturing this time off the brick walkway, I came upon a headstone with an ornate loving cup and ferns carved into it as well as this inscription: “To the Memory of John Hurd . . . Obit 20 Aug. 1784.” My thought: does anyone remember him now?

In a far corner were bookended headstones, neither larger than a novel, lonesome by a 10-yard circumference except for each other, surrounded by dirt instead of grass, their surfaces worn illegibly smooth. My thought: a wife and husband, I hope.

A larger headstone, this one featuring an elaborate carving of angel wings: “Here Lyeth Buried Ye Body Of Mrs. Elizabeth Cush (the veneer is chipped away, taking with it “ion”) / Late Wife to Cap Jermemiah Cushion / Aged 60 Years November 1689.” My thought: born just nine years after the Mayflower arrived, what was your life story Elizabeth?

One more thought: on and on these forgotten gravestones go, like anonymous runners in a marathon, like musty books on library shelves.

* * *

Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden & Me Kickstarter Front PhotoCheck out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

Healer’s Own Healing Takes Time

by Woody

Is your Club or Group looking for an inspiring guest speaker or do you want to host a book signing? . . . Contact Woody today!

* * *

1StrawberriesCoverWooden-&-Me-cover-mock-upFor a Personalized Autographed copy of “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME” or “WOODEN & ME” mail a check for $25 to:

Woody Woodburn

400 Roosevelt Court

Ventura, CA 93003

* * *

Healer Finds His Own Healing Takes Time

“I think you’re further along than you realize.”

Those were the encouraging words Dr. Moustapha Abou-Samra, a neurosurgeon in Ventura, offered when I bemoaned my slow recovery from disc fusion surgery after I was rear-ended by a speeding drunk driver.

Fifteen years later, I returned the sentiment to “Dr. Moose” after he wrote me in response to my column “Rose Rises From Thomas Fire’s Ashes.” He confessed he was not yet feeling what I termed “the gravitation pull of healing” after losing his ocean-view hillside home of 34 years.

1homeIndeed, a handful of essays he also shared made me believe his healing over the loss of his home at address “557” was further along than he realized. Too, I believe excerpts may serve as a salve for others.

*

“Yesterday morning was a typically beautiful Ventura day with some storm clouds that reflected the calm before the actual storm. I decided to watch the sunrise at 557 for the first time since our home burned. I had not been there for more than three weeks. The debris has not yet been removed and the neighborhood as it stands is, to put simply, depressing.

“I am glad I decided to go!

“There is no denying that our beautiful home is still gone. And there is no denying that my treasured jasmine that usually covers the backyard this time of the year is still missing. Gone is the heavenly smell that reminds me of Damascus.

“But I was in for a treat. The sunrise was as beautiful as it has always been. I could visualize the many, many times I stood on our front porch to take pictures and send them to my family.

“You had to have lived at 557 to appreciate the changing hues and colors, from light pink to almost purple, and to enjoy the sun peeking through various cloud formations. I always felt as if it is giving me my own personal ‘good morning.’ ”

*

“One might say that the Grace of God is evident all around us, but I’d like to concentrate here on the Grace of God as manifested by people who act in a Godly way; people who are kind, generous, empathetic and loving. People who are simply ‘good.’

“Since our house burned down on December 5, 2017, we have been the recipients of such kindness and generosity many, many times; family members, friends, acquaintances and perfect strangers have taken the time to show us that they care, and in doing so, they made us feel that we are special to them and that they feel for us.”

*

“Losing 557 was like losing a member of our family.

“A dear friend trying to soften the blow, very early after the fire, told me: ‘Remember, you didn’t lose your home – you lost your house.”

“Is there a difference between a house and a home? Someone said it best: ‘A house is made by hands, but a home is made by hearts.’ ”

*

“I caught myself saying good riddance to 2017. December brought us fire and destruction.”

After stinging together a memory necklace of pearls from 2017, including the birth of three grandchildren, Dr. Moose concluded: “I look back at all the wonderment and I smile!”

*

“Since December 5, 2017, my wife and I have experienced impromptu trips down memory lane as we remember fondly a particular object, a painting, a photo or a knick-knack.

“There is no debating the fact that we lost a lot of material possessions, but we did not lose our precious memories. They will always sustain us.”

* * *

Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden & Me Kickstarter Front PhotoCheck out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

An ‘Uncommon Type’ Love Story

by Woody

An ‘Uncommon Type’ Love Story

On the back of his 1950s Hermes Baby portable typewriter, which he took along on his “Travels with Charley” road trip around America, author John Steinbeck etched: “The Beast Within.”

Michael Mariani, a Venturan I wrote about here last week, has his own Beast Within – a newfound typewriter addiction. In addition to a vintage Hermes Baby, he owns nine other portables. His collection dates to 1926 and has at last one representative model from each ensuing decade through the ’70s.

Reading Tom Hanks’ book “Uncommon Type,” a collection of wonderful short stories featuring typewriters, Michael was inspired to get one of his own. In February, in Oxnard off Craigslist, he bought a handsome black-and-gold 1936 L.C. Smith & Corona Standard for about the cost of a tank of gas.

MichaelM_Typewriters

Three of Michael Mariani’s restored vintage typewriters.

Michael wasted no time adding No. 2 the next day, a 1948 Royal Arrow, again locally off Craigslist, and again for a price he considered a song. In the bargain, he learned of an old pro who repairs and cleans these mechanical dinosaurs.

After perusing websites on the subject and reading more books, including “The Typewriter Revolution,” Michael joined the analog insurgency with enthusiasm. More than once, he went to check out one typewriter and returned home with two. By April, he reached double digits.

“I got hooked on the chase,” Michael explains. “These machines are cool. And I can’t believe how inexpensive they are – only two of my typewriters were more than a hundred bucks.

“It actually wasn’t love at first type,” Michael adds, smiling. “After using a computer for 35 years, I quickly learned you really have to push the keys HARD!”

The added effort soon charmed him.

“A typewriter is the opposite of a computer,” Michael allows. “It’s slower. It slows you slow. There’s no delete key. I like that concept – slow down. I’m not a writer, but I use them to write letters and thank-you notes.”

Michael’s home has become a typewriter museum of sorts. Entering the living room, guests are greeted by three beautifully restored portables on display side by side by side: 1936 L.C. Smith & Corona Standard, 1948 Royal Arrow, 1926 Remington No. 1.

In a bedroom now empty of his and Kay’s two grown sons, a table is filled with more portable typewriters: 1958 Smith-Corona Clipper, a favored model by Tom Hanks by the way; 1951 Royal Quiet De Luxe; 1965 Olympia SM8; 1971 Brother Echelon; 1955 Remington Quiet-Riter; 1971 Smith-Corona Super Sterling; and, Michael’s most costly machine at $110, a Steinbeck-favored 1943 Hermes Baby.

“Typing-wise, feel-wise, my favorite so far is the 1965 Olympia,” Michael notes. “I also find it interesting that it was made in Western Germany, not that long after the Berlin Wall went up (in 1961). Typing on it just feels goooood.

“Typewriters, I’ve found, are a bit like dating,” Michael continues. “It’s different for everyone and you just have to see what you like, what you love.”

This is a QWERTY love story, so it is only fittingly that the very first thing Michael typed on his first old-school acquisition was to his wife of 32 years.

“I left it in the typewriter on the counter,” Michael shares. Included in that sweet note was the fact that he could not find the exclamation point – in fact, the 1926 Corona Standard does not have such a key.

Kay typed back: “I love you!” She also added an exclamation explanation – that she used the apostrophe, backspace, and period to make the mark.

Unlike mythological Hermes, the speedy messenger of the Greek gods, Kay had wonderfully slowed down to deliver her message.

* * *

1StrawberriesCoverWooden-&-Me-cover-mock-upFor a Personalized Autographed copy of “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME” or “WOODEN & ME” mail a check for $25 to:

Woody Woodburn

400 Roosevelt Court

Ventura, CA 93003

* * *

Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.