Saturday, September 22, 2012

George's World



By G. E. Shuman

It is difficult for a person to hide a thing like blatant self-promotion.  You can always try, but, somehow, people usually see right through it.  So, I decided to ask myself the question “Why Bother?” and I got the answer “You shouldn’t.”  I now ask you to please tolerate the following example of just such self-promotion.
The thing is, I have recently published a new book, and I’d like to tell you about it here.  Actually, the book is very new, but its contents are anything but.  Those contents consist of a fairly complete compilation of columns that my friend Gary Hass has allowed me to taint this wonderful newspaper of his with for the past eighteen years.  That sentence was a mouthful.  The book is many mouths full.
I think George’s World is a book that you should buy.  That is not because of the glorious contents of the book, but more because the columns are short. At 740 pages and several inches thick, such a book appears to be a ponderous undertaking in publishing, and even more so, in reading.  As such, George’s World is the perfect book for you to read at the beach next summer.  You just cannot avoid having the look of sophisticated intelligence while cracking such a large volume open to the middle and staring intently and wistfully at a page.  None of the beautiful beach passers-by ever need to know that you are only reading a little one or two page story.  It is true that you could attempt the same effect with a copy of War and Peace, but no one would fall for it.  No one reads War and Peace at the beach, and everyone knows that.
This new book of mine can be purchased at The Next Chapter, in downtown Barre, or ordered through any other fine bookstore.  It can also be seen at the publisher’s site, Xlibris.com, and at amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com.  I guess all of these book sellers know how valuable it will be at the beach next summer.
All kidding aside, (Who am I kidding? I can’t put all kidding aside.)  I think you will enjoy owning George’s World.  You might even learn a few things when you read it.  I know I did.  As the cover states, ‘I hope you will buy this book, as I would like to sell it.’



Thursday, September 6, 2012

The First Footprint



By G. E. Shuman

I believe that Friday, August 31st was just a usual day in America, other than for two either very coincidental or, perhaps, ordained events which took place that day. One of those events was a rare but reoccurring one of our natural world. The other event was a very human one.  You see, on that Friday evening there was a blue moon, which is a rare thing, indeed.  August 31st was also the date of the private memorial service held for my childhood and adulthood hero, Mr. Neil Armstrong, who had passed away the weekend before.  Mr. Armstrong was a rare person, indeed.
I was, as a child, one of those boys who wanted with all his heart, to be an astronaut when he grew up.  I followed the Mercury, Gemini and Apollo programs throughout my youth, building scale models of rockets and space capsules, which would adorn my bedroom for years.  I was barely fifteen years old on that night of July 20th 1969, when the lunar module Eagle was skillfully piloted by Mr. Armstrong, to its landing place and resting place in the Sea of Tranquility.  I watched it all on television, and would say that I remember it as if it happened yesterday.  In fact, I probably remember it far better than I remember yesterday.
It is sad that some of you younger people may not really know or care who Neil Armstrong was.  That is an almost unbelievable thing to me.  I would have given much just to have met that man.  It is also sad that, even though many people today may remember Mr. Armstrong as the first man to walk on the moon, some think that he was the only one, or at least that his flight there, Apollo 11, was the only one.  A few people I know actually still doubt that man has gone to the moon at all.  To me that is ignorance of gigantic proportions.  I recently posed the question of how many men had walked on the moon to one of my high school classes.  The answers from those bright and mostly college-bound students ranged from one man, to three or four.  In further discussion I got proud and smiling answers like: “Neil Armstrong?  He was THE man who walked on the moon.” None of them knew that twelve American men have walked there… none of them.
Mr. Armstrong was a true American hero.  He was a quiet, unassuming gentleman, who put country first, and, throughout his entire life, refused to accept acclaim or personal gain from his greatest feat.  He is my hero for that fact, as much as for his courageous landing and walk upon the moon.  In some ways, my keen interest in space has never left me, partially because of the man who was Neil Armstrong.  I just finished my third reading this year, of his authorized biography.  It is entitled First Man, and was written by another great and unassuming individual, Professor James R. Hansen.  It is an extraordinary book that you really should read.
On the evening of that last day of August, as I looked up at that beautiful blue moon, I thought about Mr. Armstrong, but also about those first footprints on the moon.  My earthly hero is gone, but the evidence of his skill and courage never will be.  In the undisturbed, atmosphere-free lunar environment, those fragile footprints on the moon’s dusty surface, along with Eagle’s spindly-legged descent stage, and the American flag and other things that Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin left behind, are nearly immortal.  They have changed very little since July 20th 1969 and will be artifacts of far greater endurance than the Pyramids of Giza, the Great Wall of China, or any other earth-bound monument of mankind.  I take some comfort in that fact, as I remember Mr. Armstrong.
I am grateful to Professor Hansen for helping me get to know Neil Armstrong a bit, through his wonderful book.  I hope you will buy a copy of First Man and preserve the memory of a true American hero.  Share his story with people who may be among America’s future heroes, your own children.