I had the great pleasure of interviewing Sarah Smiley, a Navy wife, about how she's coping with her husband's 13-month deployment in the Middle East. Knowing that dinner would be the hardest part of the day, with Dustin's chair empty, she decided to invite a new guest once a week to eat with her and their three sons. The "Dinner with the Smileys" project, which began in January, will continue until Dustin returns home in December. Read the full story: Guess who's coming to dinner? Navy family starts unique deployment ritual.
The man you see in the clip above is Werner Herzog. He is a documentary filmmaker often obsessed with ideas that seem too immense to comprehend. Take, for example, his documentary Grizzly Man, which studies the movtivations of a naturalist who believed he could live harmoniously among grizzly bears only to be killed by one in the end. Or Encounters at the End of the World, a stunning film about the otherwordly creatures that swim in the deep below the Antarctic and the researchers who live, and even thrive, in the continent's impossibe conditions.
His latest movie, which came out this spring, is about another improbable subject: the world's oldest known cave paintings.
I've been fascinated by research on ancient cave paintings ever since reading this 2008 New Yorker story on the Chauvet cave in France. The cave's drawings in the cave's deep reaches are at least 32,000 years old. Herzog's film is an unprecendented look inside these caves, which were previously open only to researchers. Now thanks to Herzog's cameras, we can all travel back in time.
The birthplace of Harlan Fiske Stone.Do you know who Harlan Fiske Stone is?
I didn't until I happened upon this marker on what's left of the stone foundation of his birthplace in Chesterfield, N.H.
Finding this marker was one of those lovely moments in travel where you stumble upon something unexpected. In this case, it lent a sense of history, time and provenance to what was otherwise an unremarkable outing.
I found the marker at a remote trail head of New Hampshire's Pisgah State Park, a 13,000-plus acre forest at the southern edge of the state. To get there, I took Rte. 9, which runs east to west between Vermont and New Hampshire. A left on Rte. 63 took me through the Colonial-settled town of Chesterfield (pop. 3,604). The winding Horseshoe Road, a spur off Old Chesterfield Road, brought me to the trailhead clearing.
That brings us to Harlan Fiske Stone, who was born in 1872 and eventually became not only the U.S. Attorney General, but also a Supreme Court chief justice. Finding reliable information about Stone online has been a bit of a challenge, but Columbia University, at which Stone served on the faculty, included him in a round-up of "Columbians Ahead of Their Time."
"A Supreme Court Justice for 20 years, Harlan F. Stone was a New Dealer who defended civil liberties and individual rights against a conservative court majority. A core tenet of his legal philosophy was that the law could adapt to changing societal conditions. President Woodrow Wilson appointed him attorney general in 1924 and to the Supreme Court a year later. When the composition of the court began to change after 1937, Stone saw many of his dissenting opinions become majority decisions. In one otherwise obscure case, United States v. Carolene Products Co. (1938), Stone wrote what a later associate justice, Lewis Powell, called 'the most celebrated footnote in constitutional law.' In it, Stone outlined the circumstances under which the judiciary could interpret the Constitution to displace decisions made by democratic means. The footnote stands as the point of demarcation in the Supreme Court's shift over the next generation toward greater protection of civil rights and liberties. In 1941, President Franklin D. Roosevelt elevated the 69-year-old Stone to chief justice. He died after only four years, nine months, and 19 days in the top spot, making his tenure the second shortest of any chief justice."
All I expected to get out going to that trailhead was a short hike in the hoods. But instead I found the birthplace of a former chief justice, and the marker led me to even more history. If only every day was full of such accidental discoveries.
It has been more than a week since the U.S. women’s national soccer team lost the World Cup to Japan. In the minutes after their defeat, I was stunned. Heartbroken isn’t too strong of a word. I tried to explain to my husband why I had become so invested in the team winning. As a former competitive soccer player, their tournament comeback and dramatic win over Brazil (sorry, Marta) in the quarterfinal was a bright spotlight on the sport. More than a decade had passed since the country was this riveted by women’s soccer. That in itself was inspiring.
But what moved me even more was watching those girls play their hearts out. They played with a passion and determination that the sport in the U.S. hasn’t seen in some time. It was a display of athletic intensity that made me proud to have played soccer for two decades--long before it was remotely cool and long before Brandi Chastain ripped her jersey off to celebrate a penalty kick victory over China in the final 1999 World Cup match.
In fact, when I watched that game 12 years ago, I was coming to terms with the fact that my soccer career had ended as a freshman in college. It was a strange break from the sport and one that I never expected. I was a most devout (and I mean that in the religious sense) player until mono forced me to miss about two months of my senior year (both school and soccer).
I eventually recovered and joined the women’s soccer team at Seattle University. About two weeks in, as I had just begun to overcome my nerves, I suffered a concussion during practice. The injury forced me to red shirt for the season. The sport and I were never the same. When I returned to practice the following winter, I could play aggressively and technically, but something was missing. It was that driving force that makes you want to be on the field at all hours. That makes you think in soccer. Everything is about angles and connections and the movement of the ball. When you’re on the field, slide tackling a ball out of bounds or body checking a threatening forward, it feels like a blessing. It seems like you could never lose that feeling--until you do, and then you understand the arrogance of taking it for granted. You also realize what separates the true competitors in the sport from those who just love it and work to be skilled at it.
So, when I watched those players on the field, I’ll admit: I was living vicariously through the team. My personal history aside, I found myself simply as a female athlete thinking if they were capable of such a performance, well, then so was I. In their matches against Brazil, France and Japan, they defied the expectations of the masses and created new limits to push beyond. They showed this country and others that women can play with passion and heart. That may sound unimportant, perhaps less of a goal than actually winning the Cup. But here’s the thing: it never fails to surprise me the number and type of people who think that women are less capable, less driven athletes than men.
It would have been a perfect ending had they won. And they should have won, but they didn’t. The heartbreak lasted for a few days until I realized that sometimes we just lose. It seems simple enough, but competitive and professional sports is built around the idea that with the right physical and mental training, a team should be able to "finish" notwithstanding balls that bounce against your favor or red cards issued over controversial calls. For the most part, I agree. Champions don't let those moments determine the outcome of their competition. But here's the thing: I didn't once think the U.S. had relaxed gratuituously, taking the game for granted. I think two split-second plays, and perhaps confusion in the back line, changed everything.
So, yes, sometimes we lose. It hurts, especially when your chance comes every four years. But it happens to all of us professionally and personally, even when we've done everything to achieve a different outcome. Even though, as I admitted, I had something personal to gain out of a World Cup win, I didn't feel cheated by the loss as a fan.
In the days following the game, the team and its stars did a tour of U.S. media, showing up on the Today Show (below), the Daily Show,Letterman and more. They talked about their loss with grace and humility. I found it inspiring. Perhaps they were being a given a pass by the media, as some suggested, but I thought something more important was happening. The women demonstrated that losing happens, and though it may very well be heartbreaking, there is a way to compete with heart and lose gracefully. It certainly isn't the prize, but it does offer something arguably as valuable: character.
After years of sporadic updates to a mediocre website, I've decided to get a new host and get serious about being online. I hope to share somewhat regular posts on things that inspire and intrigue me, but I may be absent for days at a time as I spend most of my waking hours as a senior editor at msnbc.com and as a Rosalynn Carter Mental Health Fellow. (Please note: Anything I post here does not reflect the opinions of my employer or any other organization with which I am affiliated.)
I'm most interested in posting reported observations about everyday life and the human experience. That may be too ambitious, but I hope it's the best of what I can offer you.
Saturday, April 28, 2012 at 07:21PM 