James M. Redwine

Males

Hang Together Or Separately

by 1 Comment

You may already know Peg and I bought a log cabin in Osage County, Oklahoma. Our home in Posey County, Indiana is a converted barn with 4,000 square feet of finished space and our barn/home also has a barn. Our cabin in Oklahoma is 2,000 square feet and we had to add a barn. Four thousand square feet of stuff does not smoothly fit in 2,000 square feet of space. However, my suggestion to Peg that we simply leave everything but our toothbrushes was not kindly received. Ergo, we are in the process of triage. I have learned the hard way to not suggest which items are disposable. My role is to take down and re-hang not to judge what should be preserved.

Benjamin Franklin and his wife, Deborah, lived much of their married life separated by the Atlantic Ocean as Ben served as Minister to France while Deborah refused to accompany him. But they managed to raise three children and stay married for many years. I suspect their marital success was in large part due to staying put in one house most of their marriage. When Ben’s famous quote, “We must hang together or we will surely hang separately”, is cited most people probably assume Ben was talking about our Revolution from Great Britain. I propose he was giving marital advice. You know Ben was famous and got rich for his advice column Poor Richard’s Almanac. Why not accept that he was an early Ann Landers?

What I think Ben meant was, if you and your spouse wish to avoid all out warfare, you should never engage in moving and especially not in what should be hung and where. For example, when I was sixteen my parents moved one block to a different house. Our family had three pictures on the walls. One was a black and white 8” x 10” photograph of our immediate family and the other two were Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper (not the original) and some European’s creation of a blond-haired Jesus. All three were taken down by my mother and put back up by my father. No argument, no stress.

On the other hand, Peg and I have countless photos of us, of our three kids and their spouses, of our seven grandkids, some of whom already have spouses, and one great-grand kid. We have knickknacks from family vacations, from gifts and from school projects. Every wall in our Indiana home/barn is festooned with something. And Peg demands all of it must be hung in our much smaller Oklahoma cabin. Of course all our furniture has to be carefully placed somewhere too. Well, you see the dilemma.

We are gingerly adjusting to this new strain of “Cabin Fever”, but there is a constant simmering of strife just below the lip-biting surface. My position is usually reasoned and rational, but Peg’s is often influenced by emotion. For example, yesterday we spent over an hour negotiating if a forty-pound mirror should be saved and, if so, where would it go? Peg’s position was it is a family heirloom and my response about it not being from my side of the family was not charitably received. The mirror now hangs in its new location.

Peg and I have now made nine trips to the cabin with items crammed onto a trailer and in a car (SUV) and a pickup. We have about two more trips to go. Each trip takes about twelve hours each way and requires a day to load and another day to unload. The nitty gritty of what goes where will consume the remainder of our lives and marriage.

Now, if you Gentle Reader, wish to be a modern day Ben Franklin marriage saver, feel free to give us a hand and bring a truck!

 

Table Talk

by Leave a Comment

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby is generally regarded as a portrayal of the evils of America’s wealth-driven culture. I suggest it really was about Fitzgerald’s tumultuous marriage to his wife Zelda who constantly drove him crazy. When the book’s narrator, Nick Carraway, says about the wealthy Tom and Daisy Buchanan, “Let me tell you about the very rich. They are different from you and me”, I submit Fitzgerald really has Zelda in mind for Daisy. And he is not referencing Daisy’s money but her infuriating ability to easily manipulate Jay Gatsby and, ergo, Zelda’s penchant to drive Fitzgerald over the edge.

It is the institution of marriage, especially Fitzgerald’s complete inability to keep up with Zelda, that was the impetus for one of America’s great novels. Most married couples can relate to such a theme. For example, let’s you and I consider the dynamics between Peg and me as we negotiate our move from Posey County, Indiana to Osage County, Oklahoma. If there is anything more challenging than paddling a canoe for a couple it is moving.

I do want to be fair in relating both Peg’s and my viewpoints on the matter, but let me point out it was not Adam who first suggested taking a bite of that apple; original sin in-deed! Anyway, let’s start at the beginning when Peg first saw our cabin on the prairie.

“Oh, Jim, it is perfect.” That should have been my clue but then I am a man and female-speak will forever remain a foreign language. I did not comprehend that by perfect Peg meant everything from the yard to the interior absolutely required change. Let me suggest the fact that women generally outlive men by several years disproves Dr. Joseph Brady’s Executive Monkey Theory.

You may recall that in 1958 Brady published the results of his psychology experiment in which two monkeys would both be shocked if one of them did not “correctly” press a lever. One monkey had control, the Executive (or wife), and one monkey (or husband) had no control. The non-executive felt no pressure and lived a normal life. But the Executive died young. So, there, Dr. Brady; why do not us non-executive men live longer? But back to our move to the prairie.

Please allow me to cite just one example of a marital disaster in moving. It involves our “new” antique dining table that Peg saw as perfect until we moved it into the cabin. Then she demanded I modify it so there was more leg room. Not being completely obtuse I referred the problem to an expert, our general contractor in charge of implementing all of Peg’s changes to our once perfect property. Gentle Reader, I assume you agree that tables play a huge role in our lives. There is Leonardo da Vinci’s table of the Last Supper. There is Sir Thomas Malory’s Round Table in Le Morte d’Arthur. There were the endless squabbles over the shape of the “peace” talk tables between South and North Korea and South and North Vietnam. And there is Peg’s once perfect antique dining table.

So, I told Mark, our highly skilled contractor, about my problem and he, also of the male persuasion and also not conversant in female-speak, volunteered to help. You know what they say about good deeds. Mark understood the problem to be not that the sides of the table were too low to allow leg room, but that the whole table was too tall. When Peg saw all four legs had been cut off by four inches, well, somethings cannot be printed in a family newspaper.

All’s well that ends well however as Mark was able to apply his magic and restore Peg’s table including ample leg room. Peg, of course, never blamed Mark anyway. I am the one who had to deal with my own Zelda crisis. Well, Gentle Reader, let’s just table that thought!

I Wannabe A Girl Singer In A Rock Band

by 4 Comments

I am so excited! Our new granddaughter-in-law is already what I have always wanted to be: a girl singer in a touring rock band. Well, maybe not the girl thing, but ever since I spent my Sunday School offering of a dollar to buy my first record, a 45 rpm single of Sonny James’ “Young Love”, I have secretly dreamed of headlining a rock and roll show. I could have done it too if I hadn’t been unfairly held back by the inability to know a musical key from a wash tub.

But before we get to the wedding of our grandson, Alec, and his bride, Arielle, I have a few questions you, Gentle Reader, who may also be a closet rock star, can answer. First, whatever happened to the Roll in Rock and Roll? Remember Bill Haley and the Comets or Jerry Lee Lewis or Little Richard, etc.? We used to have rock and roll stars. Now all we have are rock stars. Have we lost the art of rolling? What is rolling anyway? For that matter, what is rocking? I think I used to know the answers to these fundamental youthful behaviors. Now about all I can dimly recall is loud music, conversations about hair and the vague impression of a concert venue filled with strange smelling smoke.

Well, if you have any thoughts on these issues, as the Tappet Brothers used to say, put them on the back of a $20.00 bill and send them to me. For now, let’s get back to our grandchildren’s wedding which was living proof of how men have allowed their once dominant position in such matters to be cast into the dustbin of ancient history.

For example, I am fairly confident our grandson, who is also a fine heavy metal musician, would have been completely okay with a ceremony that involved a large club and a couple of animal skins. The whole thing would have taken ten minutes and cost only some sweat and maybe a broken bone or two. Au contraire mon ami. When Alec asked for Arielle’s lovely hand in marriage it came with a female retinue of mothers, grandmothers, sisters, aunts and a multitude of feminine wedding enthusiasts. JPeg Ranch, the wedding venue, was transformed from a bucolic backwater to a bastion of bustling estrogen-driven frenzy.

The quiet emptiness of The Ranch was filled with potted plants, satin drapery and netting, twinkling lights of several varieties, enough chairs and tables to accommodate the Light Brigade, fountains, food, cakes, libations mit tender, coolers, a bonfire, a DJ, two large white tents that would have made Lawrence of Arabia proud and even a bishop’s stand for me to stand in as I performed the official duties. This campaign resembled the D-Day Landing. If General Eisenhower had had these women, he could have forgone Omar Bradley. And have I mentioned the pink and blue porta potties?

Well, it was a glorious and happy event and even as a grumpy old Grandpa I loved it, especially when Arielle channeled her inner Janis Joplin and sang Me and Bobby McGee. Maybe there’s hope for me yet. After all, any reasonably competent journeyman can be a judge, but to have grandchildren who are rock (and roll) stars, now that is a real accomplishment!

The Mouse That Roars

by Leave a Comment

Gentle Reader, I ask you, “Is this fair?” Last week I barely escaped a medical catastrophe when I slipped on the ice while attempting to relocate a mouse from our house to a fiery fate. You may recall this whole thing was started by Peg who went ballistic when she found the mouse stuck in a trap. Apparently there is some universal law that mouse disposal is a husband’s job.

After I fell and received zero sympathy from Peg I sought input from my legions of supporters who read Gavel Gamut. Well, forget that! I have heard from nearly everyone who read last week’s column and they divide into three categories: (1) One person who accused me of cruelty to a mouse – even though it escaped as I almost died; (2) Three women who wondered how Peg could abide my whimpering; and, (3) an attorney from Orlando, Florida whose law firm specializes in representing mice. I’ll just relate his letter for you.

“Dear Judge Redwine,

As members of the Bar we are amazed a judge would violate the rights of our client whose only error in judgement was to seek warmth in your converted barn home. Come on! You should expect such visitors as you live right in the middle of their community.

Be that as it may, please be advised that should you not cease and desist from your attempts to harm our client, legal action will ensue.

Respectfully, of course,
Attorney Reyfert Hogart, Esq.

P.S. Peg has also contacted us with a question or two.”

 

 

Feet of Clay

by Leave a Comment

Picture by Peg Redwine

William Shakespeare had Marc Antony preach these words at Julius Caesar’s funeral:

“The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.”

Act III, Scene 2

Antony went on to list Caesar’s accomplishments in addition to his being ambitious. There was some good, some bad. Perhaps the citizens of Rome should have erected a partial statue of Caesar honoring just the good parts.

This could be a solution to our current controversy over monuments to historic figures. A committee could be composed of people who admire the works of a now dead leader and those who find the figure’s behavior flawed. A few examples might be helpful.

George Washington survived Valley Forge, presided over the Constitutional Convention and refused the opportunity to be named an emperor. On the other hand he owned hundreds of slaves and helped enshrine slavery into our legal system. The Committee might consider cutting the Washington Monument in half.

Thomas Jefferson was responsible for the Bill of Rights that guaranteed individual liberty but only to twenty-one year old white males. He also owned slaves and had children by one of them. Today such an employer/subject relationship would result in severe censure. Perhaps the Committee might recommend the Jefferson Memorial be closed every other week.

As we search for unblemished heroes to honor we could consider Abraham Lincoln who issued the Emancipation Proclamation. However, he at first averred slavery would be preferable to the disintegration of the Union and the Proclamation did not free all slaves just those in the states of the Confederacy. The Committee could maybe have a disclaimer added as a placard around his statue’s neck.

Andrew Jackson committed adultery, captured Seminole Indians under a flag of truce and as president created The Trail of Tears. On the other hand, he was a courageous and victorious military leader. A short bronze bust could replace his heroic sized statue.

As for Mount Rushmore the Committee would have to remove at least 3 of the 4 figures. Of course, Teddy Roosevelt had a penchant for shooting animals which might upset the ASPCA; so all 4 might have to be erased.

Right here in Posey County, Indiana we have a dilemma about what to do with our most famous citizen. Alvin Peterson Hovey was once Posey Circuit Court Judge, a Civil War general for the Union and our only governor. Unfortunately, he also was instrumental in helping to cover up the murders of seven Black men in October 1878. One of those Black men was shot and stuffed into a hollow tree on a farm owned by Hovey. Will the Committee have to remove the glowing patina from Hovey’s bronze in the Indiana State House?

One might look to Jesus as the paragon of virtue but even he got angry and threw the moneychangers out of the temple. He, also, voiced his hope that the cup of his great travail might pass from him. On the other hand, apparently no one knows what Jesus looked like unless one believes the Shroud of Turin is a clue. I guess the Committee would not be able to find any statues of Jesus to modify.

It appears that history has not provided us with any perfect examples to honor. Maybe the Committee will have to suggest that all statues be modified by substituting feet of clay.

Picture by Peg Redwine

If Hillary Had Won ….

by Leave a Comment

We have not, yet, had a First Gentleman. However, Hillary did win the popular vote so we almost had Bill elevated to the role Melania now plays. After seeing how the national media psychoanalyzed Melania’s refusal of Donald’s hand last Monday, my thoughts wondered to how almost President Clinton, Hillary that is, and President Clinton, Bill, would have fared as President and First Gentleman.

I remember a time or two when it was reported that Mrs. and Mr. Clinton might have had a slight difference of opinion over Bill’s behavior. I can see how such difficulties might have occasionally worked their way to light.

Unlike the omniscient media I do not know what goes on inside Melania’s mind nor Bill’s. Perhaps Melania’s public behavior around Donald does not mean anything. And if Bill were First Gentleman he might occasionally engage in displays of public behavior towards Hillary that could be misunderstood as a preference to be somewhere else.

Melania speaks five languages but rarely speaks at all in public. It is unlikely Bill would have been so shy. Bill might have offered to play his saxophone while Hillary conducted interviews with world leaders. I can almost hear his rendition of ♪When The Saints Go Marching In♪ while Hillary explained her positions to Pope Francis.

Melania wears designer gowns to such places as the female section of the Western Wall. Bill might have modeled overhauls when Hillary appeared before the coal miners. I remember when Brother Billy Carter brewed and marketed “Billy Beer”. Maybe First Gentleman Bill could have gone on the “Food Network” with Arkansas recipes for fried squirrel. Melania, of course, does not eat anything.

I am not sure why we have a First Person. We give them no pay and a large house to clean. Of course, such First Ladies as Dolly Madison, Abigail Adams and Eleanor Roosevelt played crucial roles in our country’s history. But whether Melania or the mythical Bill will have such impact is still unwritten.