Don't Mind My Manners

"It is a mistake that there is no bath that will cure people's manners. But drowning would help." -Mark Twain

We are enjoying National Tom Sawyer Days here on the banks of the mighty Mississippi River.  Once a year the internationally famous boyhood home of Sam Clemens, aka Mark Twain, celebrates the July 4 weekend with an old-fashioned, rip-roaring festival.

The Hannibal-Cannibal Walk Run was off and running early this morning with a boom.  Runners filled the streets and watchers filled the sidewalks.  Over the next two days we will have frog jumping, fence painting, carnival rides, a generous portion of fair food, and, of course, the parade and fireworks on Monday.  Eager citizens descend on the historic district featuring lots of attractions and very few parking spots.  Every nook and cranny of downtown is filled with food carts and carnival rides.  The whole front of my theater is blocked with food carts and pickup trucks. 

National Tom Sawyer Days is an amazing display of human nature.  Like Tom Sawyer in the book, many visitors leave their manners at home.  Since many of our usual tourist crowd stay away during the weekend, our audience always changes.  Yesterday as I walked into the theater getting ready for my show, someone shouted "You're the fake Mark Twain."  I was shocked.  Of course, I am an actor playing a part.  I know and everyone knows that I am not Mark Twain, but most of my guests keep those comments to themselves.  It is also the only time of the year we always have people enter the theater, ask about ticket prices, and leave in a huff.  We try to make sure they understand we are not the Twain Penny Arcade.

Yesterday, one of my American flags made in China and shipped halfway across the world for display on my old theater was stolen.  It is a little like stealing a Gideon Bible from a Motel 6.  Stealing an American flag on Main Street in Hannibal, Missouri, is just bad manners.  What is Main Street coming to?  Don't worry I'm a cynic.  I always keep an extra flag or two on hand during the July 4 festivities.  This is not my first Tom Sawyer rodeo.

Perhaps you are thinking my manners might be in danger.  Don't worry my manners are safe.  When a man offended me today, I picked up a brick and hit him on the head.  Not really, that was on the inside.  I only hit him in my mind.  On the outside I demonstrated restraint and civility.  On the inside I seethed.  On the outside I found a spot to cool off.  It was air-conditioned.  Now that I have calmed down, I can see that the brick was perhaps wrong.  Perhaps, my manners are improving.  I hope so.

Patriotism

"The highest form of patriotism is irreverence." --Mark Twain

As we approach the Independence Day festivities, it might be productive to think a little about patriotism.  For many Americans patriotism is going to Home Depot and purchasing a flag for the front porch.  For others, it is standing in Busch Stadium holding your red Cardinal's cap as you sing "Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light . . ."  Others celebrate their patriotism with a parade, a picnic, or an old-fashioned fireworks display over the Mississippi River.


These are all outward displays of patriotic fervor.  They are valid ways of showing allegiance to the United States, but I think it is important to note that patriotism is also about our thoughts and ideals.  It is about what we individually bring to the patriotic table.  It's about what is inside.


As Americans, one of the most important things we can bring to Independence Day is independence.  Free people have to have to same attitude that led to our independence.  American patriotism has never been to a person or a party.  Americans have always loathed the adulation of Hitler's followers and the followers of other dictators.  Our loyalty has never been to George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Franklin Roosevelt, Ronald Reagan, or Barack Obama.  We pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America.


In this regard Mark Twain is right.  Irreverence is the highest form of patriotism.  Americans should hate political campaigns as they are currently conducted.  We should demand that less attention be placed on what kind of ice cream the candidate prefers and more attention on the candidate's views and policies.  We should value our humorists and comedians who make us laugh at politicians.  Stupid political behavior should always be laughed into oblivion.  No person in American government should be respected any more than the respect he or she has earned.  Laughter makes us all equal in America.


In a government of, by, and for the people, irreverence is absolutely essential.  On this July 4 holiday, let's have more good, old-fashioned American irreverence.  Let's laugh at the political circus coming to town.  Let's laugh at the huge political egos in Washington.  Let's turn our laughter on both the Democrats and Republicans.  Let's laugh next week. It protects us all.

Just the Facts

"First get your facts straight; then you may distort them as much as you please."  -Mark Twain

Yesterday, I started my Mark Twain appearances at the Mark Twain Museum.  I will be there through Labor Day from Monday to Friday at 2:30 pm.  Each day, I say a few words, make myself available for photographs, and answer questions.  This is all in character.  As an actor, off-stage work is the most challenging, but it is also a lot of fun.  I never know what will happen.

Last summer, a lady asked, "Could you tell me about your death Mr. Clemens?"  As Mark Twain, I replied, "You tell me about your death, and I will tell you about mine."  We all laughed.  A man one day asked, "Where are you buried?"  I replied, "I am buried and suffer under a whole world of nonsense.  It is absolutely suffocating." 

In the middle of one Q and A, a man raised his hand and said, "I understand you were a deserter during the Civil War."  I was amazed.  In Twain's own words I explained that Sam Clemens never joined the army but was a member of a local Missouri militia unit called Marion Rangers.  When the unit disbanded, he went west with his brother Orion.  Facts are facts and really not open to rearrangement.

This exchange took me back to Mr. Clemens statement on facts and how we play fast and loose with the facts.  It seems to me that most of us today form our beliefs first, then we search for facts to support our beliefs.  In politics both Democrats and Republicans seem to be on a mission to find any supporting evidence to bolster their politics.  This spring a teenager informed me that to her facts are very confusing.  Perhaps, facts are inconvenient for all of us.

Perhaps all of us should get our facts straight.  At least we should consider the facts because sooner or later we may have to face the facts. 

Waiting for Larry, the Cable Guy

I am sitting here on an early May morning waiting for cable and internet installation.  I am listening to my Eagles CD and enjoying a soft breeze.  This is as good as the wait gets since so much of life is waiting. 

With all its speed modern life often features the wait.  A line is mandatory for driver’s license renewal.  Government offices are always decorated by Larry, the Bureaucrat, who has a penchant for gray or lime green décor devoid of all creature comforts.  Do not sit in the license bureau chairs.  It is much better to stand and take your punishment like a man or woman as the case may be.

Wednesday rolls around, and you have an appointment with the doctor at 10 a.m.  In spite of your appointment Doctor Larry’s office features its own special wait.  The elevator music carefully selected to soothe doesn’t.  I was smart once and took my laptop.  That was nice.  In most cases the doctor office wait is very annoying.

Soon after your appointment time expires, you give in and reach for the magazines.  You may get a little upset at the "new" trouble brewing  in Egypt with all the graphic street violence until you look at the date.  Don’t these people ever put a current magazine in the rack? 

Finally, after many ticks of the clock and several creative interpretations of your name, you finally stumble back to the examination room relieved that your wait is over. Not so fast! This time you must sit up on the examination table with the crinkly paper and no back rest.  Who invented this table?  Then just to tease you, Doctor Larry, MD, comes in with “Good Morning!” and immediately is called away for a life or death crisis.  You are not dying yet so you can wait.

Speaking of waiting, we can’t leave out Larry, the Fast Food Jockey.  Sometimes, you don’t have time to go to a sit down restaurant.  You know better, but you are desperately hungry so you yield to temptation and pull into the drive thru line.  This just might be the biggest mistake of the day.  Once in a fast food line, there will be no turning back.  Who labeled it fast food?  Just ahead of you are two pickup trucks with construction logos.  Each truck picks up about fourteen orders for their hungry work crews.  Finally, you reach the window only to be instructed, “Could you pull forward to the white line?  You ordered something healthy so we will have to bring your order on out to your vehicle. Sorry about the wait.” 

I am sitting here this fine morning developing patience.  At least I think that is what I am developing.  It may be something else.

Dogwood and Redbud Day

"Nature knows no indecencies; man invents them."   - Mark Twain's Notebook

Yesterday was a dogwood and redbud day under a clear Missouri sky, but it was an unexpected surprise.  Thunderstorms rolled in with fireworks about 3 o'clock and continued to blow through until about 8.  Then the morning sky turned gray and the air felt damp and sticky.  All forecasts called for partly cloudy at best, but by noon the sky was clear.  This surprising day became a glorious riot of warmth and color.

For over an hour we enjoyed the solitude of the Little Lost Creek Wildlife Area and soaked it all in--the warm, earthy smells of the woods after rain, the new minted green of spring grass, the sudden appearance of several butterfly species flitting through the stand of oak trees, and the antique foundation of an old homeplace at least fifty years after demolition.  I could see a fifty-year-old oak now towering up where the old kitchen used to create the smells of home.  I wondered who lived there and what happened.

Yesterday was spring baked in a 90-degree oven as I sat on the levee at New Haven watching the Missouri River flow past on its way to the Mississippi River just north of St. Louis.  The water reflected the blue sky.  The north shore trees appeared pale green.  The grass under foot was dark, vibrant green.  The sun felt hot on my pale winter skin.  Finally, after all we have been through for the past months, it was spring in the heartland.

As I sat on the levee bench, I imagined the exotic Mandan village that perched by the river when Meriwether Lewis and William Clark led their expedition here.  Moving upriver then required the hard labor of poling and paddling long before the luxury of steamboats.  I think about what they saw.  I mourn what has been lost forever and celebrate what has been perserved.

I imagine Samuel Clemens coming here on a steamboat in 1861 and stepping off the landing stage at Miller's Landing.  He was on his way out west to Nevada with his older brother Orion.  He was leaving the dangers of Civil War Missouri and heading out into the unknown.  That day he stopped here in July, he was just another passenger.  Years later, Sam returned a famous man.  It was his time on the river.  Yesterday was mine.

Sitting there, I thought about time and how it moves like a river--never stopping, never reversing course, never completely remembered or totally forgotten.  I thought about past, present, and future coming together.  I thought about memory and prophecy and how quickly the river moves, and how it never stands still.

I thought about the glory of April 9 we will carry with us but never see again, but I also thought about the present.  I thought a great deal about the present moment in which all things live.

The Game of Life

"There was never yet an uninteresting life. Such a thing is an impossibility. Inside of the dullest exterior there is a drama, a comedy, and a tragedy."   -Mark Twain, "The Refuge of the Derelicts"

All literature is based on the premise that all human life is interesting.  We keep telling the same stories over and over because they captivate us and hold us in their literary grip.  News stories, novels, biographies, televison shows, and movies are all based on our love of the well-told story. 

We watch the drama of the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear plant in Japan with facination.  The idea that power plant workers would risk their lives in an heroic struggle to tame the nuclear dragon seems mythic to us.  We seem drawn to this life and death struggle like moths to the flame.

Perhaps we are drawn because it is our story too.  We seem to forget from time to time that there are no winners and losers in life.  It's just life.  We often focus on the wrong things.  We often work far too hard on trivial pursuits.  We often worry too much about winning and too little about facing our own dragons.

I met a man recently who has slowly lost everything over the past two years.  He has lost his job, his home, his standing in the world, and his marriage.  His life over the past months has been a slow spiral down.  What amazed me was the fact that he was down but not out.  He looked at me and said, "It's just life."

I have experienced a little life myself.  Ten years ago we lost everything.  It was a terrifying experience, and I would not wish the experience on anyone else, but the good news is that we survived it.  Best of all, the past ten years have been the happiest and most fulfilling years of my life.   

Mark Twain knew that "a drama, a comedy, and a tragedy" is part of every life.  I think deep down inside we all know it too.  After all, it never was about winning and losing; it was always about playing the game well. 

So go ahead and step up to the plate.  What are you afraid of?  Spring training is over, and it's time to play ball.  Anything is possible.  You could get a single, drive a home run into the right field bleachers, get hit by a 95-mile-an-hour fastball, or strike out.  It's April.  It's just time to play. 

April Fools

"This is the day upon which we are reminded of what we are on the other three hundred and sixty-four."   - Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar

April is the month Chaucer's pilgrims started on their medieval journey to Canterbury.  Having survived the cruelty of winter, they set out for the cathedral to give thanks.  This journey seemed to be a religious pilgrimage, but it was much more than that.  The pilgrims also left London for a springtime romp through the greening countryside.  They also got out of town for a good old holiday and a little spring foolishness.  To this day, we follow their fool's trail every spring.

April is one of the best months of the year for fools.  It even seems acceptable and trendy.  It is officially celebrated on April first.  We even toast the most creative of our 2011 fools.  This week I heard about some very clever attempts to break the winter ice in more ways than one.  One young man poured a little vegetable oil on his buddy's exhaust pipe.  This created a billowing cloud of smoke behind his car and heart-wrenching anxiety for a few minutes.  In addition, you really can't go wrong with the old trick of marbles in the hubcaps.  The horrible, grinding noise sounds just like an engine ripping apart.  You will have to admit that the look on your friend's face will be worth all the effort.  The ultimate office foolishness requires the most irresistible cookie known to man.  Oreo cookies are like respectable crack so no one can ever resist an Oreo.  So replacing the white filling with toothpaste is also classic. 

Why do we do it? Why do we go to such lengths for foolishness?  Perhaps life just gets too serious sometimes, and we long for a little relief.  Perhaps we hear far too much bad news.  Maybe we are sick of it all.  It is possible we long for the old days when we were free to play tricks on our friends and enjoy the tricks played on us.  In any case, we seem to need April after January, February, and March.