Neither Last Nor Least

Painted Ladies may not be the very last Spenser book from the late Robert B. Parker, who died in January. A Facebook page set up by his family and Amazon.com list a May 2011 date for Sixkill, another Spenser mystery, and commenters on the Facebook page suggest yet one more Jesse Stone book. Because Parker hit the word processor with a pretty solid work ethic (and because, like it or not, for the last decade or so he's been coasting so much that most of his recent work could have been done in his sleep), there may very well be other stories in his files at various stages of completion. How the family will process those for publication, or whether they may even do as some other author estates have done and hire a ghostwriter to continue the series, is still an open question.

In the meantime, there is Painted Ladies, which doesn't really come very close to the Spenser franchise's glory days of the 1970s and 1980s but which does a better job of echoing them than just about anything Parker had published since the Clinton administration. Thieves have stolen a painting and want a certain professor to deliver the ransom money. He hires Spenser as a bodyguard during the transaction, but things don't go well. Nobody holds Spenser responsible for the problems except for Spenser himself, so he goes digging for answers. Those answers will involve Nazi art thefts and cast a jaundiced eye on the silliness that pervades so much of university life, described with Parker's usual arid wit.

Along the way, we get some classic Spenser touches that Parker seemed to have forgotten or overlooked in recent novels. The events of the case give him several chances for self-reflection on who he is and why he does what he does, both in soliloquy and with his longtime paramour Susan Silverman.  Even though this failure wasn't his fault, Spenser's belief it was means he takes the consequences of it seriously, something Parker had more or less glossed over recently, like in the awful Hundred-Dollar Baby or the limp Rough Weather. Although nothing like the four-volume arc of change and growth that Spenser's failure put him and Susan on starting in A Savage Place, Ladies offers a refreshing return of a Spenser who didn't just glide through all the wrongs he had to confront without being affected by them.

A fan of the way Spenser used to describe in recipe-level detail a dish he cooks for himself and Susan? It's in there. Like the punch-by-punch recap of a top-quality scuffle, the kind of touch that used to marry Parker's literary gift and obvious intellect to a violent and sometimes scary world that's just as real? It's in there. Like the way that Spenser the tactician used his own mind and resources to outwit as well as outfight his opponents? It's in there too.

At 78, Parker would have known that his last Spenser couldn't be very many years off, even if he had no idea when it would be or that it would come so soon. Perhaps he started to write with that in mind; that each book might be his last. Perhaps he thought about how he wanted Spenser and company to step off the stage, and those thoughts brought effort and life into his writing that he'd mostly been missing for many a year. It's hard to say, and I guess Sixkill and other "final" books will show us if that's true or not. I really hope it is, because despite its own fuzzy edges and definite déjà vu shading, Painted Ladies makes a fine capstone to a couple of top-level careers: the knight-errancy of Spenser and the writing of Robert B. Parker. It'd be a shame if Sixkill and whatever else is left don't measure up to it.

Only in Someplace Somewhere

In November, Oklahoma voters will select our state's first woman governor. Both of the major party candidates are women; U.S. Rep Mary Fallin is the GOP nominee and current Lieutenant Governor Jari Askins is the Democratic candidate.

Fallin leads by wide margins in most polls, although some political watchers suggest the race could wind up being close. Askins, after all, was thought to be a longshot against Drew Edmondson during the primaries but basically worked her hind end off and defeated him. Over the last month or so, several ads have been run by a national group, the Republican Governors Association, which attempt to tie Askins' beliefs and policies to President Barack Obama's, suggesting that Askins is "too liberal" for Oklahoma. Newspapers, including the conservative-minded Daily Oklahoman, editorialized against the RGA ads, saying in essence, "Y'all butt out."

Askins herself as well as others have highlighted what they say are distorted statements in the ads, which is really no surprise, since they are political ads. If you want a one-word substitute for political ads, you may use "blatherskite" instead, so that's probably as much of that as needs be said.

I do believe that the election of more conservative, fiscally responsible governors and legislators is a must, but it always is, especially when it comes time to replace those fiscally responsible souls who turned into money spigots when Washington, D.C. or their respective state capitols began rotting their brains. And I believe that a significant spanking from the ballot box might wake up my former party (I'm now an independent) and open the door to a return of Democrats who didn't open their own checkbook for every nutjob with a grievance and try to write laws that made you open yours, too. Also Democrats who want to improve our nation -- not because they thought it sucked, but because it's the best doggone place on the planet and it only gets better when it tries to make sure everyone plays on the same field. Those Democrats exist, but they're rare, getting rarer, and mostly ignored.

Now, it's probably true that Jari Askins isn't as conservative on a lot of issues as is Mary Fallin, so a person's decision is clear if they are simply looking for who ranks higher or lower on a particular scorecard. But a few years of watching Fallin gives a strong impression that her positions are less reflective than reflexive. She doesn't give much indication of the thought process that brought her to particular beliefs and positions and seems more likely to have arrived at them because they are what conservatives think or are supposed to think. A reflective 2nd Amendment supporter, for example, has considered that handgun proliferation could prove dangerous and tries to figure out the safest way for U.S. citizens to exercise this constitutional right. A reflexive 2nd Amendment supporter, on the other hand, may be more likely to simply oppose any an all handgun regulation as someone "trying to take away our guns." I use that example without intending to attribute either position to either candidate, by the way. For one, both have "A" or "A-" ratings from the National Rifle Association, and for another, state governors don't write federal law.

I'd originally thought I'd be writing an "only in Oklahoma" piece, about how only in our state could a woman who's earned that kind of rating from the NRA and staked out some pretty conservative positions on many issues be thought of as too liberal. But then I realized that the ad which said Ms. Askins was "too liberal for Oklahomans" wasn't made by Oklahomans at all, so it's not really a matter of "only in Oklahoma" after all, but a case of an interest group trying to hornswoggle me and other Okies into doing something we may -- or may not -- want to do. That kind of folderol already got us a wacky state question to have to deal with, and we don't need any more help, thanks a lot.

So y'all butt out. And remember. According to the Republican Governors Association, even our liberals get an A- rating from the NRA, so you might want to listen.

Reporting for Prayer and Visitation, Sir!

This week I visited a man who's been coming to our church for a few weeks who's in the Veterans Administration hospital here in Oklahoma City. I've done many many hospital visits, but this is the first time I've ever visited the VA. It's a little bit different experience than visiting other hospitals.

At most hospitals, the patients are mixed male and female, although it seems like there are usually a few more women than men. At the VA hospital, there are very few female patients. Little old guys shrunk to the size of middle-schoolers who once stormed Normandy and Sicily and Okinawa or sweated in the diesel stench of a submarine diving below a depth-charge or deafened themselves pounding one-ton shells into enemy ships. Guys a little older than my dad who froze while storming Inchon or huddled together wondering what might happen to them if a hundred million Chinese soldiers really did cross the Yalu River. Guys with gray ponytails and recently-acquired bifocals who woke up one morning ducking VC bullets and went to bed a day later wiping protester spittle from their country's uniform. Guys my age and younger who are probably thinking all kinds of things that the rest of us may not know for some time, if ever. There are plenty of lively, engaged guys who are just sick or hurt for now, but there are plenty who have that thousand-yard stare as well.

Signs warn the visitor that he or she is entering federal property and is subject to search while there. Groups of patients who are waiting on treatment or for their rides home seem to be readier to talk to each other than at some hospitals. Perhaps they've shared enough similar things in the past that they don't feel so much like strangers now. And since many sport unit patches or hats or T-shirts identifying their branch and area of service, striking up a conversation may be a lot simpler than it is when it's with someone about whom you know nothing.

Although there have been scandals in the recent past about substandard facilities and care at different VA hospitals around the country, the Oklahoma City facility seems clean and well-lit. No dingy corridors or flickering lights, but bright paint, modern equipment and properly-sized televisions in each room.

Asking for directions is different. Ordinarily, hospital information desks are staffed by volunteers, who have in my experience tended to be ladies in their sixties and seventies who are healthy and able and would rather do something than sit and listen to Oprah. They are almost always cheerful and pleasant and though they are sometimes challenged by accessing information on the computer, they have little or no trouble locating a printout that shows them what they need to know, even if not at quite the same speed as the electronic version. They will write down the room number on a card in well-formed if sometimes a little shaky and large-sized numbers, smile, and courteously point out the direction to the elevators.

The information desk at the VA hospital is also staffed by volunteers. The day I visited, those volunteers were two members of the Disabled American Veterans. I introduced myself as a pastor and asked for the man I was intending to visit. The printout was consulted and his name and location were found. Directions could now be given:

"YOU WILL GO 200 FEET DOWN THIS CORRIDOR AND TURN LEFT TO THE ELEVATORS. YOU WILL TAKE THE ELEVATOR TO THE SEVENTH FLOOR, AND AFTER EXITING THE ELEVATOR YOU WILL TURN RIGHT. YOUR CHURCH MEMBER IS IN THE TWO EAST TOWER, THAT IS TWO EAST. YOUR CHURCH MEMBER'S ROOM WILL BE HALFWAY DOWN THE CORRIDOR ON YOUR RIGHT."

Possibly, the gentleman helping me simply wanted to make sure that anyone I might encounter along the way also knew where I was going, in case I got lost. I'm not sure, although I will say that even in spite of my lack of military service, I felt a strong urge to salute the man and then drop and give him 20. An order which I suspect he had given on at least one occasion. I contented myself with shaking his hand, thanking him (for his directions and his service, although I mentioned only the former out loud) and very self-consciously not doing an about-face turn when I went back towards the elevators.

It's a different world in the military, to be sure. But, as I noticed when I walked back to the parking lot past a row of some 20 American flags on tall poles, it's still very much my country, and maybe largely because of some of the men in the building I'd just left.

Thanks again, guys.

Varmints Vanquished!

For cat despisers, one of the least attractive feline characteristics is how the animals tend to play with their prey, sometimes prolonging the death struggles of a vastly inferior animal for some time.

The Minnesota Golden Gophers hate it for certain, as the mighty Purple and White Reign allowed them a lead in today's contest until two minutes and seven seconds remained before casually kicking a go-ahead field goal and leaving them in their refrigerated wilderness with a 29-28 loss. The 'Cats even permitted Minnesota a tantalizing glimpse of a last-minute drive to win the game before linebacker Ben Johnson, knowing that care'll kill a 'Cat,  gambled and intercepted a pass to make Gopher heads hang in sorrow.

Knowing that their prowess might well upstage the Red River Hissy Fit being contested to the south, the humble Wildcats graciously consented to an 11 AM game time. Next week's consignment of Purdue to perdition, however, will occur at 6:30 PM at the High Holy Place, Ryan Field.

The Last Page From the Typewriter...

You can still leave a message at the tone, but unfortunately no one will be getting back to you, as Rockford Files, A-Team, Wiseguy and 21 Jump Street (among others) creator Stephen J. Cannell passed away at 69.

Cannell dealt with dyslexia through school but overcame it to write literally hundreds of television episodes and 17 thriller novels. Shows he produced would end with a scene of Cannell writing, finishing a script with a flourish as he plucked the page from the typewriter and flipped it into the air, where it faded into the logo of his company -- a stylized "C" made by pages curling up from a ream of paper.

His influence on television ran from selling a story idea to Mission: Impossible in 1966 to helping shepherd the careers of people like The Sopranos creator David Chase. Even though he created absolute gems like Rockford, he could also throw some serious schlock on the screen, like Riptide and the Lorenzo Lamas vehicle Renegade (in which he also acted), but such is television. Cannell had a shelf of awards, but I suspect that were he to have been asked, he might tag his 46-year marriage, three children and three grandchildren as one of his prouder achievements (a fourth child preceded him in death).

Hyperbolic Curve

During the press conference announcing that White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emmanuel was leaving (probably to run for mayor of Chicago), Emmanuel thanked his boss, President Obama, and lauded his work as "the toughest leader any country could ask for, in the toughest times any president has ever faced."

That "thud" sound you heard was Abraham Lincoln kicking Emmanuel's brain back up between his ears while Franklin Roosevelt rolled his chair over Emmanuel's foot to hold him steady.

Some Ocean-Front Property on Gliese 581g

Gliese 581 is a red-dwarf star about 20 light-years from us, around which orbit a few planets. The most recently discovered one is in the right spot to support life and is enough like Earth that life there could indeed exist.

Most other planets found orbiting other stars have either been too close or too far away from their own stars or have been gas giants more like Jupiter than our own rocky world. Life could potentially exist in some of those circumstances, but it would be very weird compared to us. We, of course, would be very weird to it, and I don't just mean Lady Gaga or Justin Bieber. Although I suppose it's possible that these other life forms would find those two normal and the rest of us weird, which would also prove they lacked a sense of hearing and communicated by signs, strange clothing and silly gestures like publishing your autobiography at 16.

Anyway, the planet is named Gliese 581g, or it will be unless there are indeed folks living there who tell us what they call it (Look out for the copyright infringement lawsuit of the galaxy if they call it "Earth"). Conditions on Gliese 581g are kind of extreme. The planet is tidally locked with its star, meaning one side faces towards it and one faces away from it all the time. The side facing towards it is probably plenty hot, and the side facing away is probably plenty cold. There should be a tolerable zone at the border, where all of the (literally) cool people will hang out, if they exist.

If there is life on Gliese 581g, it may have been around for a very long time. Because of their small size, red dwarf stars burn quite a bit longer than stars like our sun. There is as yet no way to determine whether the radiation of a yellow sun like our own would give that life powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men, such as leaping tall buildings in single bound, outracing bullets or telling locomotives where to get off and making them like it.

Although nearby in astronomical terms, the 20 light-year distance between our own sun and Gliese 581 means that we are actually seeing it and its planets not the way they look today, but the way they looked in 1990. And it means that whoever may be living on Gliese 581g is seeing us not as we are today, but as we were in 1990. So unless we swiftly develop faster-than-light travel to visit them, warn them and explain ourselves, they will one day see us watching From Justin to Kelly and paying attention to Keith Olbermann as a political commentor, after which they will have no choice but to decide that our planet is home to no intelligent life.