Benjamin Franklin, American

It’s no secret that Benjamin Franklin is my gold standard for quality when it comes to all things American. Lately, I’ve delved into a biography by H.W. Brands titled, The First American. The book starts off with our man Mr. Franklin before King George’s Privy Council. The king’s men give old Ben a wicked dressing down. As Mr. Brands says, a lesser man would have been humiliated. Not Benjamin Franklin. He knew this was the end, as in the end of his loyalty to Britain. It was also the beginning, though the revolution wouldn’t kick off for about two more yeas.

I’ve heard various discussions here in Philadelphia about Ben Franklin, his habits, his lusts, his failings. This is pop culture balderdash that deserves no more than a passing mention in non-permanent media outlets. In this regard I subscribe to the policy of letting the man without sin cast the first stone. Every human is fallible and subject to human weaknesses be they of the flesh, the emotions, or simply errors in judgement. In fact, I’d venture to say Ben Franklin had quite a few less flaws than many other so-called great men.

Thus, there is no shame, and in fact worthy pride, that Ben Franklin is held up as not only a founding father of the United States of America, but also an example of how to conduct one’s life. He was tolerant, ambitious, learned, and wise. What frightens me most is the view of the current crop of leadership held against his silhouette. The damn fools mucking up in government today seem hell bent on the abandonment, if not outright destruction, of the principles Franklin and his band of 19th Century radicals fought to establish. Today’s leadership palls in comparison. The founding father’s had their brawls, feuds, and fights. However most of them were more a matter of how to implement a successful strategy than over what the strategy should be.

And so in this election season, I’ll judge candidates by the Franklin Standard. If they bow to opinions beyond the border, if they see the United States as a cow to be milked by whiners and half-wits, and if they refute the proven principles of limited government over the self-reliant, well, then they’ll get neither my vote nor my sympathy. On the other hand, if they lead with boldness, unafraid to speak well of a nation that has done so much for so many, and put forth a platform that recognizes the necessity of individual solutions to seemingly collective problems, then I will make my mark by their name.

As Benjamin Franklin once said of the newly formed United States of America, “A republic, if you can keep it.”

Published in: on September 12, 2008 at 3:16 pm  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Still The Real Thing

I was in Doylestown, Pennyslvania, USA a couple of nights ago for a book signing. I always arrive early so there’s plenty of time to check out the local scene. I walked around the corner from the bookstore and found this small shop selling snacks. Inside I found Coca-Cola in glass bottles that are reproductions of the first bottles, the ones that came before the distinctive, bodaciously curvy one. Here’s a look:

Yes, that’s the real thing. I popped the top on this and guzzled. It was so good that I drank two.

During my book signing, I met dozens of people interested in my new novel, An Island Away. It’s a real pleasure meeting readers. They have great recommendations for other books and provide insight into stories they’ve read. This helps me become a better writer. After all, the readers are the customers. Talking to them directly gives you the chance to hear their thoughts.

With all the talk these days about how no one reads, you would think we’re headed for the dark ages. Not so. There were hundreds of people through the bookstore that night. There was an 8 year old who had illustrated her grandmother’s book there as well. Good for them! The younger the better when it comes to books and reading.

Reading, like ice-cold Coca Cola, is the real thing.

Published in: on September 7, 2008 at 2:49 pm  Comments (1)  
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Pete Hamill’s North River

North River is not only about the loves of the main character, Dr. Delaney, it is about Pete Hamill’s love of New York City. The book follows Delaney from the time he discovers his grandchild on his front step through a series of hard knocks and helping hands. Set during the Depression, Hamill imbues this book with all the sensitivity of people in need and people willing to help. 

The center piece of the novel is the evolving relationship between Delaney and Rosa, a woman sent to help him raise his grandchild. As they find each other, the people of the neighborhood show themselves to be as human as the two main characters, complete with all the nuances one would expect from a melting pot of immigrants. At times the plot stutters but it’s no bother. The characters carry you through this world that Hamill renders so clearly.

I spoke with Pete Hamill shortly after this book came out. It was a pleasure conversing with someone who not only knows his subject matter, but has great affection for it. I’ve met other writers who seem to be more akin to snipers than loving members of the family. They hit their target and move on. Not Pete Hamill. He’s always been a New Yorker and he makes no bones about it. I’ve read a few of his other novels and each of them shows his understanding of the city and its people.

North River is best read in a couple of sittings, preferably in the winter, when you can gaze out the window and see the characters alive and well.

Published in: on September 5, 2008 at 6:53 pm  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

MacMillan Judge and Fort Zoutman

Going back through my story notes this morning, I stumbled on some scenes for the end of a novel I mentioned earlier, MacMillan Judge, Privateer. Without ruining the story, I can tell you that our man, Captain MacMillan Judge, ends up heading to that favorite island of mine, namely Aruba. (Don’t worry, this story will be a long time coming. It’s third in line right now.) Well, in Oranjestaad there is Fort Zoutman, which today is more or less dwarfed by nearby commercial structures. However, back in the day, it was enough to keep the island under control.

The photo to the right is of the Willem III tower. It served as a general lookout for the soldiers in the fort that sits below and behind it. Judge spots this tower as he cruises the coast in search of a decent anchorage. In case I forgot to mention it, MacMillan Judge, Privateer is set in 1815-1816. I’ve been brushing up on my history of this period, not only of Aruba, but also the Mediterranean area around southern Spain and the so-called Barbary Coast. This was a wild time in the history of the known world. The United States was a new country. Britain and France had been at war (yes, again) for quite a while. Spain, although not a superpower, still had some fangs. Through these tricky times MacMillan Judge and his crew of the privateer-built, topsail schooner Fletcher pick their way to fortune and glory. Actually that makes light of the serious themes in the story, but it sounded like the blurb you might find on the back of a sailing novel and I’m a firm believer in some excitement now and then.

It’s had to imagine a time when the canon pictured below was a key component to military domination.

Nonetheless, they did the job. In the course of the story, MacMillan Judge receives two long guns from Don Francisco, a Spanish aristocrat whose family has been harassed by the Barbary Pirates for generations. Those two long guns figure into MacMillan’s strategy as he beats back an attack by two corsairs. There I go again, telling too much of the story. Well, let’s leave it at that. For now.

Published in: on September 5, 2008 at 11:10 am  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , , , , , ,