Rubber Chicken Soup

Rubber Chicken Soup
"Life is funny . . ."
Showing posts with label player. Show all posts
Showing posts with label player. Show all posts

Friday, November 25, 2011

The Great Vonnegut

by Thomas M. Pender

I have to sing the praises of Kurt Vonnegut Jr. for those who have never read his works!

Vonnegut (November 11, 1922 – April 11, 2007) wrote such amazingly worded novels, he could sway his readers’ emotions and thought processes.  Not everything he wrote is worthy of praise – in fact some is so repetitive and cyclical, you will think you’re trapped in rap lyrics! – but a few gems are well worth crowing about.

Player Piano was his first novel, and it tells the story of man versus machine in a society where machines are replacing humans.  Right out of the box, I have to say I loved the title.  Having nothing to do with the story, the player piano is a simplified image of a contraption that, while normally operated by a human, runs on its own.  Brilliant!  The story immediately grabbed my attention, and held it through every page, so I immediately went on to his next work.

The Sirens of Titan astounded me, plain and simple, for the accomplishment in the writing itself.  Without changing anything about his main character’s actions or motives, Vonnegut manipulates how the reader sees him and changes how we think of him.  You spend the first third of the book thinking the hero is the best guy in the world, the second third wondering what the heck he’s really doing, and the last third thinking he’s the worst guy in the world . . . all through the power of Vonnegut’s wording!  As a writer and aspiring novelist, I see this as superhuman skill and talent.

Slaughterhouse-Five is about a man who becomes “unstuck in Time.”  He is constantly juggled through scenes from his past, present and future.  He experiences World War II Dresden, the planet Trafalmadore (as a human zoo display!), 1950s American married life, and his own murder in 1976 Chicago.  (Published in 1969, this would be in the near future.)  You feel for the character, and you learn from his predicament, as well.

Mother Night had a profound effect on me.  The theme is “You must be careful what you pretend to be, because in the end, you are what you pretend to be!”  This was meant as a cautionary tale, featuring an American who pretends to be a Nazi in World War II Germany.  The character has good reason to do so, but sees himself as a monster because his reason does not change the evil he is doing.  Still, I took this lesson as a positive: If you pretend to be the person you want to be, you become that person!

I was also very affected by a story written in screenplay form, Fortitude.  Published in the short story collection Wampeters, Foma & Granfalloons, it tells the story of a very rich woman who should have died long ago, but is being kept alive by a building full of machines.  Only her head remains in its original form.  She is prevented from committing suicide when she becomes too depressed over her situation, so she exacts some wonderfully poetic revenge.  Here again, I was impressed by how Vonnegut evokes strong emotional reactions from his reader.

While I was incredibly disappointed in one of his most lauded books, Breakfast of Champions, I find Vonnegut’s work to be completely original in tone, and I will miss his writing.   In general, his work makes you want to laugh, but before you can laugh, it makes you think, and in thinking, you realize that what you just read isn’t funny, but kind of sad or infuriating.  I have no idea how he did that, and I’m incredibly jealous.  However, as a reader, his books are a playground for the mind.  If you’ve never read his work, I recommend you start with the first novel, Player Piano.  It’s a fine introduction to his style, and if you like it, you can easily progress from that.  If you love the written word, and the magic that a masterful writer can conjure, give Kurt Vonnegut Jr. a try.  In whatever way you are affected by his words, you will certainly be affected, which is a rare and wonderful thing in the world of literature!

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

The Ridiculous Sport of Baseball . . . Statistics


by Thomas M. Pender

I’m not a big baseball fan.  I can’t really sit and watch an entire game on television.  It’s pretty dang boring.  While I do enjoy watching baseball highlights (because they splice all the actually interesting events together) and a live baseball game is fun (mostly for the things going on in the ballpark between plays), watching baseball on television strikes me as a pretty uninteresting practice.

However, within the sport itself is an ongoing ritual that is sort of an offshoot of interesting.  It’s downright bizarre!

Each time a new player comes up to the bat, and each time the batter is waiting for a pitch, you will undoubtedly hear the most incredible (and head-scratchingly confounded!) statistics spill out of the TV commentators’ mouths.  These faceless experts are loaded to the rafters with figures and columns and histories no one could possibly imagine being important enough to record.  You learn such “fascinating” facts (at least, we assume no one would go out of their way to make up such stuff!) as the percentage of pitches by a left-handed pitcher the batter has hit during the month of August in an outdoor game on the day after it has rained when he is wearing his hat tilted to the left.

Yes, I made that one up.  No, I’m probably not the first person.  The first person probably made it up, then investigated!

The basic stats, while no fascination to me, at least seem to exist for a reason.  The fans can keep track of how many runs, errors and wins a player is responsible for, and this can give the fans a good idea of how well the player plays.  But come on!  Is there a need to know how many Dodgers have deceased mothers who were Aquariuses and went to private schools, then married Navy men and gave birth to triplets?

(I hope I’m the first one to make that stat up.  Still, I wonder. . . .)

Every televised sport can give you stats on a team and on individual players.  It’s part of the home-viewing experience.  Baseball, for some reason or no reason, has turned the science of statistics into a ludicrous cult of numbers, based on twisted imaginations.  Somewhere out there in e-space, I’m sure, there is a constantly updated database on the number of times each major league player has adjusted himself in each and every game.  Fanny pats can’t be far behind (pardon the pun), either.  The topics get so far out of the realm of relevance, they hardly qualify as baseball stats.  They are numbers more in tune with Ripley than Cooperstown.  They may have even given Ripley a headache.

On the other hand, in your more inexplicable moments, when you wonder which baseball team has the most players who were raised in Alaska, went to high school in Florida, and have six toes on their left foot, relax.  There is someone keeping track of that . . . and you’ll probably hear about it next spring while innocently watching a game, too!