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The Write Side of 59

~ This is What Happens When You Begin to Age Out of Middle Age

The Write Side of 59

Category Archives: Words

Remembering Mesopotamia

07 Thursday Aug 2014

Posted by WS50 in Concepts, Words

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Cuneiform writing, Iraq, Julie Seyler, Mesopotamia, The Cradle of Civilization, The Fertile Crescent

 

The Tigris and Euphrates Rivers.

The Tigris and Euphrates Rivers.

By JULIE SEYLER

There are many things to be said about Iraq, and the political pundits are weighing in non-stop on MSNBC, CNBC, CNN, FOX, PBS from the left to the right. (This is in-between keeping us abreast of what’s going on in Honduras, Syria, Israel, Gaza, Ukraine and Afghanistan). I am speechless over the terror gripping virtually every continent, but with Iraq, I cannot help but remember sixth grade history when we learned that it sits amid the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers, otherwise known as “The Cradle of Civilization”.

The heritage of Iraq is one of greatness. It descends from the Persian Empire, a civilization once populated by the Sumerians, Assyrians, Babylonians and Akkadians and their sophisticated comprehension of the world should be celebrated, not forgotten. The Sumerians recorded the first written word, (circa 2900 B.C.), figured out that a circle was 360 degrees, and grasped that the planets circled the sun and not the other way around:

Constellations that we still use today, such as Leo, Taurus, Scorpius, Auriga, Gemini, Capricorn, and Sagittarius, were invented by the Sumerians and Babylonians between 2000-3000 B.C. These constellations had mythical origins, the stories of which are common throughout the western world.

From excavations and archaeological digs we know that these earliest urbanites brewed beer, wrote poetry and were savvy commercial traders. We also know that they were craftsmen. Within the ancient tombs and buried cities, archaeologists have discovered golden filigreed crowns, necklaces of delicately chiseled leaves, and beautifully sculpted silver spouted vessels which were used either for libations or cult objects.

Jewelry found at the Royal Tomb of Ur. 2600-2200 B.C. Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Jewelry found at the Royal Tomb of Ur. 2600-2200 B.C. Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Kneeling bull holding spouted vessel. 3100-2900 B.C. Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Kneeling bull holding spouted vessel. 3100-2900 B.C. Metropolitan Museum of Art.

To remember all this and to balance it against the knowledge that the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria, “ISIS”, now known simply as the Islamic State, has not only eclipsed Al Qaeda as the world’s most powerful and active jihadist group, but seeks to monomanically annihilate history is beyond heartbreaking:

In areas that fall under their control, the jihadists work carefully to entrench their rule. They have attracted the most attention with their draconian enforcement of a fundamentalist interpretation of Islamic Shariah law, including the execution of Christians and Muslims deemed kufar, or infidels.

The goal of ISIS is to destroy. It boggles the mind, but perhaps it is not so novel or exceptional, given that it was war and violence that ultimately brought down the Persian Empire.

And yet there is wisdom being spoken and hopefully it will prevail. Ali al-Nashmi, a professor of history at Mustansiriya University in Baghdad, was quoted in The New York Times on July 27, 2014:

The world lost Iraq, but we must fight, you and me and all the friends, to do something, something mysterious and very far off. We must teach history in the primary school and show our kids Iraq’s great civilization.

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The Laundry Room Lending Library

24 Thursday Jul 2014

Posted by WS50 in Words

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Books 1
BY JULIE SEYLER

In my apartment building I take the elevator to the basement to wash my clothes, key card in hand to pay for the machines that scrub out the dirt and dry my clothes. A standard ritual for urban dwellers. To make the experience more pleasant, the Co-op Board installed a book exchange. People can drop off books they have read and others can pick up them up to read.

I have both contributed and retrieved, but what intrigues me is who discarded the books and why. It’s fairly logical why a 1982 edition of Let’s Go Greece shows up, but what about a 1946 edition of The Good Housekeeping Cookbook. This is a gem. It has weight, not just because it’s a heavy hard cover, but because it reflects a piece of social history from 68 years ago.

Why has it been cast to the laundry room bookshelf? Is it a routine cull or has the inhabitant of the apartment passed away? It provokes a string of queries. How old was he or she when they purchased this book? Was it given to a young bride or did the daughter of the once young bride inherit it? It’s a mystery wrapped in an enigma and if I was a screenwriter I could concoct a tale from a cookbook.

My story begins:

It is a rainy afternoon, the heroine decides she is going to make brownies for her children. She opens the cookbook and a photo leaps out of a couple, each wearing a suit and hat. On the back of the photograph there is written: “August 15, 1940. The day we met”.

A yellowed newspaper article flutters to the floor. It is dated August 16, 1951 and the headline blares “Leonine Dafjater Dies. Daughter Inherits Millions”.

The heroine goes back to the brownie recipe. In the margin, barely legible, is the word cyanide.
brownies 1I’ll have to find another old book so I can write the next scene.

In the meantime I have discovered that there is a bookstore in Manhattan that is devoted solely to vintage cookbooks, but I am going to keep my Good Housekeeping Cookbook and try making those brownies one rainy day.

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Another Short, Short

10 Thursday Jul 2014

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Short shorts, The Write Side of 50, Words

It’s hot. We’ll Keep it short:

Sometimes she felt as if small pockets were opening up in her brain and she was draining fluid.

shorts2

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How Finishing a Book Became an Unattainable Goal

09 Wednesday Jul 2014

Posted by WS50 in Words

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Books, Julie Seyler, reading

books1

BY JULIE SEYLER

When I was a young girl, say between 8 and 18, I was a reader. I never didn’t have a book in my hand. I remember sleeping over my best friend’s house. She’d want to play and I’d want to read and I would plead with her “Just let me finish this chapter.” (In retrospect I think I wasn’t that much fun as a friend, except we did laugh alot).

A road trip meant curling up in the back seat of the car with a book. Summer was a string of endless days of devouring books. I opened Black Beauty on Saturday morning and finished it on Sunday afternoon. I gobbled up The Bobbsey Twins and Nancy Drew, and moved on to Valley of the Dolls, Jane Eyre and Crime and Punishment. I went on an F. Scott Fitzgerald kick and threw him over for Hemingway. Books were escape because back then the Internet was a glimmer in the eyes of the super-techies, but nowhere near ready for its close-up by the masses.

Then college happened, then law school, then work, then the computer did become a mainstay of life, and with each passing year the number of books I finished would dwindle. I don’t mean to imply that I don’t read. I do. I am always in the middle of reading a book and am surrounded by books. One of my favorite things to do is to wander into bookstores and peruse the shelves for new discoveries. They end up stacked in my bookshelves and layered on top of one another on my nightstand, patiently waiting to be cracked open.

These days I am more realistic about the prospect of actually finishing a book, I mean within a reasonable time period. So, instead of buying books, I download samples, thousands of them, onto  my iBooks or Kindle.  samples It’s comforting to know they are there at the ready for a rainy day, even though I feel guilty because it makes me one of the countless contributors to the demise of the old-fashioned bookstore.

Still every night I curl up in bed with a book. But, before I can settle down to read, I must check email one more time, look at the latest FB posts, review the blog stats for the day, and tap on the Scrabble app to see if my online foe has made another 66 point Bingo word. Then I snuggle into read. Two pages later my eyes are drooping and the lights are out. So much for reading a book.

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Scrabble Geeks Forever

03 Thursday Jul 2014

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Bob Smith, Scrabble

When the letters suck

When the letters suck

BY BOB SMITH

Long before Words With Friends (WWF), there was its real-world ancestor Scrabble, which we’ve been playing in our family for as long as I can remember. At home we use a set with indentations that keep the letters in place, and a fancy turntable to spin the board to each player. We have one travel set we bring to the beach and another we take with us when we know we’ll be waiting on line at a restaurant for more than a half hour.

photo 3 Our paperback Scrabble Dictionary for the beach is so warped from the humid ocean air, its spine has curled into a sharp u-shape. In fact, we’re on our second beach board because the first one partially melted from years in the hot sun and wouldn’t lay flat any more. Oh yeah; we’re total Scrabble geeks.

WWF is essentially the same game except that with Scrabble, you compete against human beings who are sitting beside you, in person, rather than communicating over the Internet. In WWF the program automatically decides which words are permissible, while in Scrabble the issue is open to discussion. To settle disputes about what words are acceptable, we always use an Official Scrabble Dictionary, which features “aa,” “mu,” “za,” “ae,” and similar obscure – but handy – language fragments.

Two weeks ago Maria and I played a game on the beach to a point where neither of us could build any more words, even though we both had letters left in our racks. I passed on my turn; she passed on hers. We’d never seen it before: the Scrabble stalemate.

What would you do with this board?

What would you do with this board?

We shrugged and showed each other our letters (an interaction impossible in WWF). Mine were pretty crummy (U, R, R, E, and E), and Maria’s weren’t much better except for the high-value Z (accompanied by O, A, and I). Neither of us could come up with any words, so we declared it a tie and put the game away – but we were wrong.

Even though a stalemate is as rare as the elusive ai (a Venezuelan three-toed sloth), the Official Scrabble Rules clearly provide that if all players “pass” twice in a row, the game is over and the points must be tallied. You subtract from each player’s score the value of the tiles remaining in that person’s rack, and whoever has the highest score wins.

That person was Maria – again. She regularly beats me at WWF too, but those games are a lot less fun than our Scrabble matches, where we can squabble about the rules and whether or not a given word is acceptable. We (me, usually) grouse about having six vowels, taunt the other person for taking too much time, and share the excitement (or envy) when one of us gets a seven-letter word.

Despite its name, WWF is an impersonal electronic interaction that’s mostly about words. Scrabble, on the other hand, is all about gathering people together in the same place to match wits and share a few laughs – truly a game of words, with friends.

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A Short Story

19 Thursday Jun 2014

Posted by WS50 in Words

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Shorts, The Write Side of 50, Words

shorts2

Sometimes it felt as if small pockets were opening up in his brain, and his entire reservoir of memories were being drained through a sieve.

For more short shorts, click here.

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Flowers for the Grave … Decoration Day

23 Friday May 2014

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Decoration Day, flowers, Memorial Day

DECORATION DAYBY JULIE SEYLER

Monday is Memorial Day. Pragmatically, this translates into a three day weekend, a four day work week, and the onset of trips to the beach. But where did it come from? I know it is a day of gravitas to honor and remember those who have died fighting for their country, but I had no clue as to its genesis.

According to the Department of Veterans Affairs, during the Civil War, women in the South, commenced a tradition of placing flowers on the graves of soldiers who had died for the Confederancy. Three years after the war ended, the Grand Army Republic, an organization composed of war veterans, proclaimed that May 30 would be the “official” date that the nation would honor soldiers who had died in the Civil War by decorating their graves with flowers. And so commencing in 1868, there has been a Decoration Day celebration at the end of May. (It was believed flowers would be in bloom all over the country.)

But it did not become a federally recognized national holiday until 1971. This was at the height of the Vietnam War while Nixon was in office, and rather than May 30, it was codified that the last Monday in the month of May would be the nation’s day to pay homage to those who had fought for their country.

There are still American soldiers overseas in Afghanistan and Iraq, and the discussion of what to do about Syria is endless. There will always be debates about whether America should enter a conflict that does not directly impact the safety of our country. Personal, political and religious beliefs dictate one’s philosophy on the subject of war. However, honoring those who have, or had, a job that takes them to the front and back lines of armed conflict is not debatable. I raise a toast to them.

And, to the men and women who were members of the United States Armed Forces and died in its service, in my heart I place a flower on their graves, along with a wish for no more graves. May everyone return safely home.

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Farewell Dear Boot

20 Tuesday May 2014

Posted by WS50 in Words

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Toes

toe cyst copy copyBY JULIE SEYLER

It’s been a long six weeks. I had toe cyst surgery on April 8 and for two weeks could not put my foot on the ground. Instead I hopped around, using a walker for support. I took a shower sitting on a plastic chair. I went to work and sat at my desk with my foot elevated and came home and sat on the couch with my foot elevated. It was boring and tedious.

Then I graduated to the boot. It meant movement, but not mobility. It didn’t matter. I was thrilled because I could venture outside. That’s when Steve and I made it to the Orchid Show, albeit with him pushing me around in a wheelchair.

Lois would constantly remind me how fast the time was passing and I would constantly reply “Only if you are not in a boot.” Limitations in mobility slows time down. Patience, which I have none of, is mandated. I counted each day.

But I have said farewell, dear boot. I shall not miss you. My metatarsal head is growing bone. So from there sutures 1to here after sutures, I guess it did go pretty fast.

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Spring Break

12 Monday May 2014

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The Write Side of 50, Words

out fishing

The Write Side of 50 is on vacation – just a respite; a spring break. We’ll be back soon with a fresh look.

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Let’s Put Our Shorts Back On

05 Monday May 2014

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The Write Side of 50, Words

shorts2

More Short, Shorts: four, separate, brief, and self-contained shorts. With summer in the air, our line of thinking is returning to less is best:

*It will be a June divorce. And she will finally be un(bride)led.

*Every night he sharpened his pinking shears to a pointed edge so that he could cut the rosy sweetness that wrapped around his wife. And then, one evening, a thorn pricked his prick, and he fell on his beloved scissors.

*First kiss; second wind.

*He gazed with lust at the vision of beauty standing before him because here was a woman with hair that swung, eyes that danced, and a smile that knew the meaning of merriment.

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