In Plain Engel-ish

Here’s a jaunty question to start us off this Monday morning. What are your odds of dying today?  Of course, many variables come into play, but overall the odds of your actually dying today are only one in 365,000. I’d say it’s more than safe to assume you’ll be there for any fun plans you might have for April 7th. This peculiar death-day theme has come about because I just gave my How William Became Shakespeare program for the bazillionth time, (rough estimate) and I always begin by pointing out that Shakespeare was born and died on April 23rd, making him...

I have always been a sucker for “Guess what?”. The first time I remember hearing it was in second grade when my teacher began the day by exclaiming “Guess what, class!” My hand shot up. Miss Consodine pointed at me and said “What is it, Elliot?” The rest of the class looked at me curiously. “We’re going to be quizzed on telling time?” I guessed. We’d been told weeks ago that we needed to learn to accurately read a clock. I’d driven my family crazy by glancing at a clock at least hourly and yelling “It’s five of three!” or...

If the people who lived in England between 500-1500 AD were to return today, they would be outraged that we call their period “The Dark Ages.” They would have a point. Any historical period that includes Columbus, Chaucer, and Saint Thomas Aquinas can hardly be labeled “dark”, with so many intellectual giants who still wow us a thousand years later with their brilliant accomplishments. To be fair, we often called it “The Middle Ages.” But this supposed upgrade actually still downgrades it. Exactly what are these “Middle Ages” in the middle of, anyway? They are between the earlier vibrant Classical...

When a former student, who wrote her master’s thesis under my direction, was named Head of the English Department at her community college, we celebrated by having dinner at a fine restaurant. When she excused herself to visit the restroom before our main course arrived, I passed the time by practicing the fine art of eavesdropping on the table next to ours. At my advanced age, eavesdropping has become a bragging-right sport, given how pleased I am that my old ears are still up to the challenge. Seated at the neighboring table was a middle-aged mother and her attractive twenties-something...

My elementary school in Indianapolis during the 1950’s was as homogenized as the milk served in our cafeteria: almost all white, almost all Christian, perhaps four or five Jewish children per class of thirty, but, as far as per grade, not more than two “colored children,” the only term I ever heard for Blacks until at least a decade later. So I was amazed when Aunt Anna, my mom’s oldest sister, told me about her school in the same town forty years earlier. She was born in 1911, less than three years after her parents — my Grandma and Grandpa...