A tiny piece of glitter on my basement floor
I am running on my treadmill in my basement. I would much more like to be outside in nature running on a beautiful trail with a light breeze and the feel of the earth and its energy below me and the sun warming my heart and mind.
But here I am mile after mile going nowhere on a machine that beeps, clicks, and blinks at me in predictable and boring ways. Boring, boring, boring.
Sun rays are beaming through the bay window, illuminating a tiny piece of ruby glitter just a few feet in front of me. The glitter is probably a left over from one of our parties. It is so small it could have even escaped a good vacuuming or two.
I notice that the sun is hitting the tiny glitter just perfectly that I can only see it on the treadmill. I step off and it disappears. I step back on, and it shines so radiating right at me. It has an audience of one: me.
It seems to be calling to me; signally me a generous, gorgeous tiny glistening star. As I run, bouncing up and down, the tiny ruby glitter seems to be glowing, and it outshines everything else in my basement.
I know it’s just a random left-over piece of trash…. used up party décor…. But to me it is more like a shining beacon of hope. It survived at least two cleanings and it is still there shining back to me making me feel more resilient….more important…more alive
FIRST LINES
By Dave Berger
I’m at home. I’ve been at home for over 5 days recovering from surgery. It’s starting to become tiresome being tired and lying around so much. I know it is good for healing, but it is still driving me a bit batty.
I think of another writer that had been homebound for extended periods and how he became incredibly productive and creative as a result. L. Frank Baum, who wrote 14 Wizard of Oz books, developed a heart condition when he was a child that made him spend more time at home and very little time playing with other children. Turning inward during this time, Baum created many plays and songs and stories that he later used writing his Oz books and 41 other novels.
As I lie down looking at my bookcase, I spy Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz on the third shelf from the top. First published in 1900, I read this book as a child probably about 50 years ago, but I still remember its very simple and direct first line, “Dorothy LIVED IN the midst of the great Kansas prairies, with Uncle Henry, who was a farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer’s wife.”
I always loved that opening line. It introduces the reader to Dorothy and her family, where they live, and the occupation that is the center of their worlds. It makes the reader want to know more.
It got me to thinking about the other books in our large, dark, Amish made hardwood bookcase. My wife, Berdette, and I have over 200 novels in our collection, including about 100 hardcover works. I have only read about half of those.
I have wondered about the first line of the novels I have not read. Are they as good as Baum’s Wizard of Oz opening?
I started by stacking up the books in piles on our pub table in our library. This wooden table, complete with four high top chairs, is very heavy and with a dark stain that matches the bookcase quite well. Stepping back a moment, I realized how challenging it might be to read and record even just the first line of the 100 or so novels I have not read.
Why have so many books that I have not read? During COVID my wife and I were married and we moved into a new suburban house together. The house has a giant vaulted front room that we decided could only become a library or a parlor to greet guests. We made it into a combination of both.
We bought a handmade Amish bookcase that was created just for us with specifications that we submitted. It took over six months for this center piece of our new library to be completed. Before it arrived, we bought the pub table and chairs, matching comfy leather looking chairs, a globe, library lights, and even a hand stitched ottoman.
When the bookcase finally arrived, we had a library that looked like a real library! As we stood there admiring our newly created grand bibliotheca, we realized that our well read and worn mostly soft cover collection of books with a few nicks and tears here and there would look a little rag tag in such resplendent knowledge receptacle.
Given it was COVID, we had some time on our hands to search the internet for leather bound hardcover books that would look lovely in our monumental bookcase. It took months, but we assembled a hardcover library of classic and other novels that really fit this new splendid room nicely. It looks picture perfect, like a photo spread in a magazine or a law library at a distinguished law firm.
While our new library looks majestic, neither one of us have read most of these works!
We have works from Zora Neale Hurston to Charles Dickens to Willa Cather to Victor Hugo to Toni Morrison to William Goldman. But what about opening lines in these unread novels of ours?
The parameters of my mission became clear. To read each opening line, record it, and reflect on it’s meaning. Only then will I have a true view of the gorgeous books in our collection.
As I opened each book, almost all of them pushed back on my action. It was clear that these books had almost never been opened before. Their binders straining and cracking as I opened their covers.
It was neat, like opening Christmas presents but a lot easier and a bit more intellectual and academic.
I started with a few novels I had already read to get my footing. I selected two that I knew had great openings, both published in the 19th century. In 1851, Herman Melville published Moby Dick with the classic and memorable opening, “Call me Ishmael.” Is the author or character he writes an outcast or a wanderer or has he a passion for biblical or Quranic verse?
While Melville’s writing style is quite thick and wordy, that first line was perfectly simple and intriguing, just like Baum’s Oz lead line.
The other familiar novel that helped me get my bearings was Pearl S. Buck’s The Good Earth. Her opening salvo is quite apropos as well. “It was WANG LUNG’S marriage day.” Such an opening sets up the entire novel by introducing Wang Lung and his marriage to O-Lan. It is a hook because his wife is not mentioned by name and that we enter their lives on their marriage day.
Getting the hang of these first lines of novels, I now expanded to unfamiliar waters that did not include white sperm whales or wedding days. (Special super side note: I published an article inspired by Melville and Buck in 2022 entitled “From whales to weddings, fictions make life fun”).
But where to start? I thought of my good friend Dave who loves the film version of the cult classic, The Princess Bride (1987). We happen to have that hardcover book written by William Goldman in 1973 in our unread collection. This became my beginning point.
Oooops! This turned out not to be the easiest launch point since there are two first lines in this book! The first opening like is the introduction by Goldman that reads, “This is my favorite book in all the world, though I have never read it.”
What a fabulous start. What book is the author talking about? The book we are reading or another book and why would he have not read it?
The answer lies in the second opening line of the book when Goldman introduces a tale written by S. Morgenstern. That tale begins, “The year that Buttercup was born, the most beautiful woman in the world was a French scullery maid named Annette.”
The Princess Bride is a book within a book. In the 1987 film version, the grandfather, played by Peter Faulk, reads the book to his sick grandson, played by Fred Savage. Hence the grandfather is the narrator of the film.
Of course, Goldman is the author of both books. Having two opening lines makes The Princess Bride more intriguing. It gets the reader to wind through the openings to get a clear view of where they are being taken, on a “classic tale of true love and high adventure.”
As I pushed forward, I discovered several first lines that hold equally captivating nuances. “I write this sitting in the kitchen sink,” is the opening of Dodie Smith’s unconventional book I Capture the Castle. This sounds like the book will be domestic in nature and it appears to be about familiar relations surrounding a writer father who fails to reproduce his early success of his first book.
Imagining someone in a kitchen sink reminds me of a cat I once had. Oz was a large, long-haired tabby. He loved to take naps in my kitchen sink. I recall one time my mother tried to remove him, and he growled at her quite loudly.
I’m getting a bit tired again, time for a bit of a nap. Just one more opening line for today, “All children except one grow up.” That might be my new favorite opening line.
Sir James Matthew Barrie wrote Peter Pan in 1911. He put that classic opening line in the first chapter he entitled, “Peter Breaks Through.”
All of us, no matter our age, have something of Peter Pan within us.
Dave Berger of Maple Grove, Minnesota, is a retired sociology professor, a freelance writer, and author.
Bringing the juice
Recently, I purchased apple and orange juices online from my local grocery store. Since I am recovering from surgery, I had these items delivered to my door. While online shopping and delivery is wonderful, it does miss that extra touch one gets in the store by being able to compare products and their labels.
As I put away the juices in my pantry, I checked the expiration dates on the bottles. They all looked good, but I noticed something very curious on my Old Orchard 100% Apple Juice. Near the top very lightly stamped into the plastic (almost undetectable without my reading glasses), it read, “Concentrate of Turkey Ctry.”
I found this quite a surprise. I never knew that Turkey exported apple juice. Nowhere else on the bottle did it indicate this was a product of the nation of Turkey. In fact, the writing on the label implies that this is a product created in Sparta, Michigan.
Under the section “Raise a Glass to Family” there is a paragraph that reads:
“Old Orchard put down roots in Sparta, Michigan in 1985. We now offer over 100 bottled and frozen fruit juice varieties, bringing you and your family the highest quality fruit juice and innovative blends. We’ve still got that fresh-from-the-orchard taste, and we’re still proud to be part of your family meals. Cheers!”
This statement seems a little misleading not only as to the origin of this product but also how fresh it is. Saying it has “that fresh-from-the-orchard taste” when it is from concentrate and shipped from a nation over 5,000 miles away from Michigan seems disingenuous at best.
The Old Orchard website does not help clear up this confusion (https://oldorchard.com/about). On the home page it proudly announces: “We go to the ends of the earth to make the best juice in the U.S.A.” and “Our long-standing relationship with trusted farmers around the globe has given us the opportunity to provide an outstanding variety of innovative juice blends — all lovingly made in the USA.”
This seems like a linguistic and political tightrope act. Old Orchard wants its customers to believe the juice is made in the USA. It may indeed be mixed in the United States, but the concentrate is a product of Turkey. There’s nothing wrong with a product from Turkey per se, unless of course you are a person trying to buy American made products or you dislike the politics of Turkey.
In any event, it would be nice to know more clearly where Old Orchard juices originate. There is a flippant line on their website that is quite unhelpful with specifics: “…we set out to source the finest juices wherever they may be found, whether that’s right here in Michigan or Timbuktu.” A list of “source” countries for their juices would be much more helpful.
Additionally, Old Orchard on its product and website implies it is a family-owned American business even picturing and celebrating its original founders. It does not openly indicate that it is, in fact, a fully owned subsidiary of a Canadian company. Indeed, it is owned by the large agri-food company Lassonde Industries headquartered in Rougemont, Quebec, Canada with 23 plants and offices and 35 different recognizable brands.
Simply Orange, the company I bought my orange juice from, does a better job indicating the country of origin of its product and that it is owned by a large corporation. On the product it clearly states, “Contains orange juice from countries identified on the bottle neck.” On the bottle neck it states that the countries of origin are “USA/Brazil/Mexico” in black print, which makes it easier to read
It is important to note that Simply Orange is from juices from all over the world and not concentrates. While it is a little strange to be blending juices from so many countries, at least the consumer is directly informed on the origin of the product on two spots on the labeling.
Unfortunately, like Old Orchard, Simply Orange does not place its parent company on its product. It’s like they are both trying to represent themselves as smaller companies to sell more products. However, to its credit, Simply Orange does clearly state on the top of its website that it is owned by the American based (Atlanta, Georgia) Coca-Cola Company, https://www.coca-cola.com/us/en/brands/simply?redirect=true. That fact is even embedded in its website URL.
Companies need to do a better when it comes to being transparent on their ownership and the sources of their products. Costco with its Kirkland Signature brand seems to do both quite well. In my pantry, for example, I found a can of their solid white albacore tuna. It is clearly stated on the can that it is a “product of Vietnam.”
Last night, I watched one of the NFL playoff games with my wife, Berdette. At one point, one of the announcers gave one of the defenses credit by stating they were “bringing the juice” against the opposing offense. It was indeed a big play by that defense. Comparing Old Orchard to Simply Orange, I would have to say the former brings the juice in a much weaker manner than does the latter.
Dave Berger of Maple Grove, Minnesota, is a retired sociology professor, a freelance writer, and author.