Letters

Letters 08-31-2015

Inalienable Rights This is a response to the “No More State Theatre” in your August 24th edition. I think I will not be the only response to this pathetic and narrow-minded letter that seems rather out of place in the northern Michigan that I know. To think we will not be getting your 25 cents for the movie you refused to see, but more importantly we will be without your “two cents” on your thoughts of a marriage at the State Theatre...

Enthusiastically Democratic Since I was one of the approximately 160 people present at when Senator Debbie Stabenow spoke on August 14 in Charlevoix, I was surprised to read in a letter to Northern Express that there was a “rather muted” response to Debbie’s announcement that she has endorsed Hillary Clinton for president...

Not Hurting I surely think the State Theatre will survive not having the homophobic presence of Colleen Smith and her family attend any matinees. I think “Ms.” Smith might also want to make sure that any medical personnel, bank staff, grocery store staff, waiters and/or waitress, etc. are not homosexual before accepting any service or product from them...

Stay Home I did not know whether to laugh or cry when I read the letter of the extremely homophobic, “disgusted” writer. She now refuses to patronize the State Theatre because she evidently feels that its confines have been poisoned by the gay wedding ceremony held there...

Keep Away In response to Colleen Smith of Cadillac who refused to bring her family to the State Theatre because there was a gay wedding there: Keep your 25 cents and your family out of Traverse City...

Celebrating Moore And A Theatre I was 10 years old when I had the privilege to see my first film at the State Theatre. I will never forget that experience. The screen was almost the size of my bedroom I shared with my older sister. The bursting sounds made me believe I was part of the film...

Outdated Thinking This letter is in response to Colleen Smith. She made public her choice to no longer go to the State Theater due to the fact that “some homosexuals” got married there. I’m not outraged by her choice; we don’t need any more hateful, self-righteous bigots in our town. She can keep her 25 cents...

Mackinac Pipeline Must Be Shut Down Crude oil flowing through Enbridge’s 60-yearold pipeline beneath the Mackinac Straits and the largest collection of fresh water on the planet should be a serious concern for every resident of the USA and Canada. Enbridge has a very “accident” prone track record...

Your Rights To Colleen, who wrote about the State Theatre: Let me thank you for sharing your views; I think most of us are well in support of the first amendment, because as you know- it gives everyone the opportunity to express their opinions. I also wanted to thank Northern Express for not shutting down these types of letters right at the source but rather giving the community a platform for education...

No Role Model [Fascinating Person from last week’s issue] Jada quoted: “I want to be a role model for girls who are interested in being in the outdoors.” I enjoy being in the outdoors, but I don’t want to kill animals for trophy...

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Relatively speaking/It?s All Relative By Wade Rouse

Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli - February 28th, 2011
Relatively Speaking memoir is a family affair
By Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli
It’s All Relative
By Wade Rouse
Crown Publishers
$23.99

The thing about Wade Rouse’s new memoir “It’s All Relative,” is that you shouldn’t expect a clown show. Maybe his last memoir, “At Least in the City Someone Would Hear Me Scream,” began with a raccoon on his head but don’t expect this one to be all snickers and titters, though, of course, they’re in here too.
The ‘relatives’ of the title are his mother, father, extended Ozark family, friends, and his lover, Gary. The encounters with all of them are viewed not with a jaundiced eye, poking fun, but with loving honesty about the people of his life and about himself.
The book takes a look at a year of celebrations — not from any one year but celebrations from all the years of his life beginning with past New Year’s Eves, to Oscar Parties, Ash Wednesdays, Valentine’s Day, birthdays, Easter, Secretary’s Day, Barbie’s Birthday, Halloween and, of course, Thanksgiving and Christmas. All those holidays we dread and look forward to and keep in our memories for the sweetness of them and for the disappointments (well, maybe not Barbie’s Birthday).
So, let’s jump into this swift-flowing river of memory, starting with some of my favorites, both funny and poignant. There is the Oscar party when Gary dressed up as Oscar himself, draped in gold lamé, only to find that gold lamé “Is highly chaffing.”

PLASTIC PEEPS
There is the childhood Christmas when an X-rated Santa Claus made an appearance. And there is “My Plastic Peeps” which seems to celebrate the Pez Collectors National Convention during which Wade learns some hard lessons in collecting, chief among them that you can’t love what you collect, too much, or you destroy their value.
“Pretty Pink Peonies” takes the reader out on an Ozark Memorial Day devoted to visiting simple graveyards. Wade visits with his mother and grandmother, bringing small American flags and his grandmother’s special peonies to each grave of a cousin, an uncle, a war veteran, a friend. Then they would stand beside the grave and share stories about the dead person. Those peonies always stayed in his mind. Years later, with his grandmother and her peony beds long gone, he is shattered when his mother comes to Michigan; Gary, an avid gardener, has taken starts from those original peonies, nurtured the plants, and can put those same peonies into Wade’s mother’s hands. Garysexplained what he did:
“The earth is what grounds us and connects us all for a very short time. That’s why I like to grow and share starts of plants with others — like your grandmother’s peonies — because it’s like sharing a memory with the world.”

DIRTY DOG
In “The Wonder Years” a stray dog finds its way to their Michigan home. “The dog was a dirty, dingy, pee yellow, and there were burrs and cuts and dried blood strewn throughout its fur. Its nails were so long, they had curled and bent and grown into his pads, which were infected and raw.” This dog couldn’t be saved. But what a wonderful last few hours they were able to share with him. I guess a lesson in quality versus quantity.
My favorite here is the last; my own personal pet peeve: the Christmas letter. Those impersonally copied lists of a year’s achievements that leave out Uncle Pete’s incarceration, Jessica’s unfortunate and inopportune pregnancy, Aunt Matilda’s short stay in rehab, and all the little interesting warts and mishaps that make up a life I could actually believe in. Rouse calls these things “the most vile of holiday traditions” and cured me of ever seeking revenge by writing one.
“I was especially surprised,” he writes, “to receive an eerie form letter from a woman whom I’d always deemed a true friend, a funny, smart, creative, hip woman with whom I’d stayed in touch...” Since the letter was “so crass, so impersonal, so devoid of human emotion that it shook me to the core of my soul” he is driven to craft a hilarious letter of his own, including: “March brought some very EXCITING news for Gary. He was promoted to junior assistant director to the associate vice president for marketing, who is a DIRECT report to the Company’s junior VP for branding. WOW!!!!”
OUCH!
And then a Christmas he goes back to the Ozarks to be with his mother who is dying of lung cancer. Her dream is to visit the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, though they aren’t Jews, and place her prayer in a crack in that historic wall. He writes “As my mother gently rocks me, like she did forty-three years ago when I was a baby, I realize I must do this one thing for her—after everything she’s done for me . . . I have no other choice but to fulfill her final prayer and get her to Jerusalem.” But he can’t. She is too sick to travel. Instead he finds another way, another wall, and learns that her prayer, all along, was for him.
Oh, and Barbie’s Birthday — a kind of freedom day for two boys who wanted a Barbie doll all their lives and received Daisy BB guns or train sets instead. They are grown now, in love, dedicated to each other, and off to buy a Barbie, only to be confronted with rows and rows of Barbie choices. They made a choice, took her home, let her share their lives, but then shelved her. After many moves she was found, “Her clothes were a bit flattened, her hair a touch more ratted, and one leg looked as though it might have been truncated after being wedged under a concrete garden gnome for years.” They celebrated her 50th birthday with her, only to discover Barbie doesn’t easily forgive the treachery of being forgotten.
With some writers, their books are sometimes barometers of how they’re doing and feeling during a particular year of their life. I suspect this latest memoir from Rouse was written that way, governed by emotions including sadness, joy, retrospection, pleasure, and gratitude. Which pretty much covers a year in anyone’s life, if they’re lucky enough to live it full tilt, which Wade and Gary do.

Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli’s next mystery from Midnight Ink, “Dead Dogs and Englishmen,” will be published in July, 2011.
 
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