Yearly Archives: 2008

Spade, Marlowe, Archer, and Spencer

3books.jpgI love the old-time, private detective pulp novels, and so I’m going to bore you with amateur drivel about the most famous ones. Please don’t humor me. Just go away and come back tomorrow, unless you envision the possibility of appreciating my shallow insights. I shall seek to sound officious, but don’t be fooled.

I just finished these detective novels, in this order:

  • The Way Some People Die, one of Ross MacDonald’s 18 Lew Archer novels.
  • Trouble is My Business, a quartet of stories by Raymond Chandler starring P.I. Philip Marlowe.
  • The Maltese Falcon, Dashiell Hammett’s only Sam Spade novel.

The contemporary and highly prolific Robert Parker, with his private investigator Spencer, is usually considered the heir to Raymond Chandler. I’ve read all but the latest Spencer novel (it sits on my shelf, a certain swell read). Chandler, in turn, is regarded as the heir to Dashiell Hammett. Usually getting left out is Ross MacDonald, who came after Chandler and whom Robert Parker adores. MacDonald, rightfully, is Chandler’s heir.

Philip Marlowe appears in nine books, while Same Spade appears only in The Maltese Falcon, plus a few short stories. Humphrey Bogart played Marlowe in “The Big Sleep” and Spade in “The Maltese Falcon.” If I remember right, he played them pretty much the same, which isn’t true to the books. Lew Archer and Philip Marlowe could be twins–smart-alecky, resourceful, contantly vexing the cops. But Spade is different: a strong-built fellow, blonde, quiet, mysterious, an explosive mean streak. Humorless. I absolutely loved The Maltese Falcon. Just wish Hammett had written as much about Spade as he did the unnamed Continental Op (another detective whom I really like, but alas, whom Bogart never portrayed).

Chandler writes with extraordinary wit, and every few pages comes a turn of phrase so clever and unique, you want to call someone up and say, “You’ve got to read this!” You want to write it down so you’ll never forget it, show it to your wife, post it on your blog. There are whole websites devoted to Chandlerisms. Gems like these:

  • “I guess God made Boston on a wet Sunday.”
  • “From thirty feet away she looked like a lot of class.¬† From ten feet away she looked like something made up to be seen from thirty feet away.”
  • “He looked as inconspicuous as a tarantula on a slice of angel food.”
  • “She jerked away from me like a startled fawn might, if I had a startled fawn and it jerked away from me.”
  • “The streets were dark with something more than night.”
  • “The minutes went by on tiptoe, with their fingers to their lips.”
  • “I’m an occasional drinker, the kind of guy who goes out for a beer and wakes up in Singapore with a full beard.”
  • “Dead men are heavier than broken hearts.”
  • “It was a blonde. A blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained glass window.”
  • “The corridor which led to it had a smell of old carpet and furniture oil and the drab anonymity of a thousand shabby lives.”

A Chandler book deserves to be savored. Four Chandler novels remain on my shelf, unread, patiently awaiting their chance to delight me as much as the other five books. And yet, there’s something about MacDonald’s books that I almost prefer. Lew Archer brings practically nothing new to the genre, a rough clone of Marlowe. But the plots seem easier to follow than in Chandler and Hammett. Very accessible, and always fun. Often, his phrasing recalls Chandler.

But Parker is tops. In Spencer, he reinvented the private detective. Not only as a very tough guy, much tougher than Spade, but with an extraodinarily tough sidekick, Hawk. Plus a girlfriend, Susan, and a relationship that evolves over the course of the 30-some novels. A P.I. with an intellectual streak who likes to cook, and can sum up an entire personality by citing three characteristics. Spade, Marlowe, and Archer come from the same DNA, the stock that Hammett invented. But Spencer is a first. As was, for that matter, Sam Spade.

Share Button
1 Comment

Keyless

This morning, the planning committee for the 2009 US National Conference met at a coffeeshop in Bryan, Ohio. It’s been snowing a lot since last evening, and not wanting to drive my truck over there, I hitched a ride with Chris Kuntz. He picked me up about 8:15. I went out through the garage door, hitting the button and ducking before the door came down.

As we headed down the road, I realized I had left the house without any keys. Including no house key. Stupid, stupid me.

And so now, I’m sitting in a public library, killing time. Pam’s leaving work a bit early, around 5 p.m. She’ll swing by here and pick me up in another 90 minutes or so. I’ve never locked myself out of the house before. Pam will enjoy giving me a hard time about that.

Share Button
Comments Off on Keyless

Just One of the Villagers

Before the 9:00 service on Sunday, Jesse came running into the sanctuary and beamed a big smile at me, seeking reaction. Jesse is three years old, the son of a very young single mother, Lee, who attends regularly. The two of them came to the Super Bowl party last week at our house. Standing there in the sanctuary, smiling, he looked a bit wired. Like he’d had too many sugar cookies.

He was still wired after the worship team finished the song package. I sat down in the back pew, and could see Jesse being very fussy, didn’t want to sit still. Lee stood up to take him out, but I rushed over and opened my arms. “I’ll take him,” I told Lee.

I’m certainly no child-raising expert. But I thought I knew what Jesse needed. He needed to run. Burn off energy. So we went down the hall toward the offices and Sunday school rooms, and for the rest of the service, we mostly did the “I’m gonna get you” mock-chase game. He was in high heaven, loving the attention of a guy and someone willing to play with him. Sometimes he screamed in delight, and I had to tell him to be quiet, which never worked.

About a half-hour later, I heard Pastor Tim ask the worship team to come up for the final song. That was my que. I had to get to the keyboard. So Joanna, who was in the hall, said she’d take over with Jesse. And I rushed into the sanctuary.

There really is something to this “it takes a village” stuff.

Share Button
Comments Off on Just One of the Villagers

Shaq a Sun?

On the way to work, I learned that Shaquille O’Neal had been traded to my favorite team, the Phoenix Suns. Who saw that coming? The NBA’s premiere run-and-gun team opts for a hobbler like Shaq? Is this purely a move for the post-season, to combat the mighty Spurs? It’s just doggone interesting and unexpected.

Share Button
Comments Off on Shaq a Sun?

Scenes from Our Really Big Bowl Party

Seventeen people, all rooting for the Giants, attended our party on Sunday night. I took some photos, but only got some of the people. Anyway, here’s some of what I snapped.

group1_450.jpg

group2_450.jpg

Two photos of pretty much the same people.

connor_450.jpg

Here’s Connor. It’s been two months since he and his parents moved from our home into an apartment, after a year at our house. He’s changed so much. Two months, at that age (he’s now 16 months old) make a big difference.

CarolynKids1_450.jpg

Here’s Carolyn with Connor and Dennis, who was born in mid-December. Dennis doesn’t seem very happy at the moment.

Share Button
Comments Off on Scenes from Our Really Big Bowl Party

Whatta Party. Whatta Game. Whatta Spread.

Pam and I hosted a Really Big Bowl Party (need to avoid trademark infringement) last night. Had 17 people, all from Anchor. All rooting for the Giants. So bedlam erupted in the last minute, as you can imagine. We’re all on our feet, fists pumping the air. Loving it.

I’m sure ad agency creatives are going nuts imagining clever campaigns using two brothers/Super Bowl MVPs. Hope this shuts up Tiki Barber, the crybaby.

One of my goals for 2008 is to master the crockpot. Last night I had all three of our crockpots going–meatballs in one, sloppy joes (Pam’s homemade recipe) in another, and cheese dip in the mini-crock. Chopped four onions for the sloppy joes. Man, that’s hard on the eyes!

Favorite commercials: the eTrade baby who barfs at the end; the carrier pigeons; the Rocky-inspired Clydesdale, the Doritos monster mouse, the Pepsi Max ad with the people nodding off (which is exactly how I feel right now, after a late night). And I just love that jumping robot guy, who got beat up a few times by a Terminator.

Share Button
Comments Off on Whatta Party. Whatta Game. Whatta Spread.

The Website Comes Through Again

Met a really nice family yesterday, visiting our church for the first time. Five kids. I usually ask first-timers, “How did you find us?” Because Anchor isn’t exactly located on a thoroughfare. We’re on a secondary street in a residential neighborhood.

“The website,” the mother told me. “I was on for about an hour last night.”

Being the webmaster, comments like that always make me happy.

Share Button
Comments Off on The Website Comes Through Again

What Happens to Unused Gift Cards?

I always assumed that stores and restaurants just pocketed the money when gift cards went unused. You know, like that $5 Starbucks card you got for Christmas but misplaced, probably amidst a bunch of wrapping paper. It’s estimated that of the nearly $100 billion in plastic gift cards issued in 2007 (half of it in November and December), nearly $8 billion will go unused.

But a Businessweek article told what happens in half of the states: unused gift cards are subject to unclaimed-property laws. Shoulda known the government would want a cut. The state must wait 2-5 years to collect, but they’re patient.

I’ve got an Applebees gift card in my wallet. Started at $25, and I’ve got $1.67 left. If I lose that card, it’s just unclaimed property, and in a few years, Applebees will need to write the State of Indiana a check for at least part of that $1.67. Interesting.

Share Button
Comments Off on What Happens to Unused Gift Cards?

My Hessian Heritage

Learned something interesting about my heritage today. We’ve known that on my Mom’s side (the Welkers), we are German and Irish. Some of Mom’s cousins, doing geneology research, discovered that the German part goes back to a Hessian mercenary who fought for the British during the American Revolution, but deserted and settled in southern Ohio. A window into my heritage.

Pam’s heritage include the British Tarletons. Major Banastre Tarleton, the son of a slave trader, was a British officer in the Revolution who fought in the Carolinas. In the movie “The Patriot,” the ruthless Colonel Tavington (Mel Gibson’s counterpart) is based on Tarleton, who was every bit as ruthless as portrayed. So Pam and I both have Revolutionary War roots, and on the British side in both cases. But I doubt that Major Tarleton would have approved of a Hessian deserter.

Share Button
Comments Off on My Hessian Heritage

Anchor Worship Team’s Friday Night Gig

TimTerry_250.jpgThe Anchor worship team has a gig on Friday night. We’re playing for a couple hours at the Grind coffeehouse in Fort Wayne. I’ve not been there before. Interestingly, we’re required to do only our own original music. The Grind doesn’t want to purchase the BMI license needed to legally perform live music written by other people.

Fortunately, Tim (left) and Terry (right), our guitarists, have written gobs of music, most of which we’ve done at Anchor. Some songs are part of the regular song-package rotation, others we’ve done as preludes. We’re also doing a few songs written by Chris Kuntz, our former worship leader. And then you can throw in a few songs using someone else’s tune (like “Who’ll Stop the Rain” and “Mustang Sally”), to which Tim and Terry have written their own lyrics. I even contributed a song in this category, writing new words to Coco Montoya’s “Clean Slate.”

Put it all together, and we’ve got two hours of original music. Pretty impressive. I’ll be there, along with Terry’s son Joe (drums) and Tom, our outstanding bass player.

Tim and Terry are very talented. They recorded several songs. I’ve included them below, along with cord charts. I think you’ll enjoy them. I particularly like “I Don’t Believe in Luck,” perfect to accompany any sermon dealing with gambling or money in general.

I Don’t Believe in Luck
Chord Chart .doc | .rtf
Party in Heaven
Chord Chart .doc | .rtf
I Wanna Be Like You
Chord Chart .doc | .rtf
Share Button
Comments Off on Anchor Worship Team’s Friday Night Gig

Receive Posts by Email

If you subscribe to my Feedburner feed, you'll automatically receive new posts by email. Very convenient.

Categories

Facebook

Monthly Archives