Susan's Scribblings the Blog

A writer from the Philadelphia area shares the week online.
Susan's Scribblings the Blog
  • Who the Heck is Kayewer?
  • Author Archives: kayewer

    • Yet More Random Thoughts

      Posted at 5:28 pm by kayewer, on July 2, 2022

      It’s the Fourth of July weekend in the US. We have a three-day weekend, or some folks took Friday off to make it a four-day weekend. The Fourth falls on a Monday, making it perfect for people who want a long weekend, and if you’re in a job in which the first of the month is a pain in the keister, simply ask for Friday off and it won’t be a problem (at least not until you return to work on the fifth and find out how much backlog you have).

      This is a weekend for cookouts, parades, and fireworks. Our modern technology, however, has also made a new option available for public enjoyment: drone shows. Drones can be computer coordinated to present a post-dusk light show in the sky. It’s a new idea and still in its early stages, but there are some great videos out there demonstrating the grandeur of such shows. They may well be the new fireworks for the new age.

      Drone shows have a few benefits: no emissions from exploding powders, no loud bangs to damage hearing and frighten pets (which increase the number of runaway and lost animals every year), and a near zero chance of injury, as in no lost limbs or eyesight from premature ignition of what are small bombs placed in John Q. Public’s inexperienced hands.

      The cost is steep right now, but as the popularity grows, drones become more common and their users more experienced, prices will go down to levels the local municipalities will be able to manage.

      I’m all for these shows. There appear to be no downsides to them, except possibly a disabled drone heading earthward and bonking somebody on the head. At least it’s not blown-off limbs.

      We did the “bombs bursting in air” during the battle at Fort McHenry. Maybe it’s time to just let our lights shine on and move to drone shows.

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    • In Hiding

      Posted at 4:48 pm by kayewer, on June 25, 2022

      Even though we are human beings and have populated this planet for countless ages, we still seem to misunderstand ourselves. Sometimes we do so at our peril, when we make or break rules that are trying to keep us all safe.

      At the moment of birth, we begin the process of setting our lives in stone by designating names, or titles, or conditions. A boy born too early and too pudgy, or a girl born past her scheduled due date and too skinny. We put the newborn in a blue blanket or a pink one; we clothe them in cute outfits with patterns on them of animals, constellations or the local sports team.

      We take endless photos of them passively surrounded by baseball-themed toys or princess tiaras. Recently a woman had her infant’s ears pierced prior to discharge from the maternity ward. Perhaps infant tattooing will be next?

      We raise our children on our beliefs, or let them make their way blindly with no sense of order. Sometimes they are well-rounded, but at other times our children develop autism, anxiety, depression or behavioral issues. Still we plod on with the program of setting up who the kids are going to be. Our rules; their pain.

      At a certain age, we start establishing that the human body needs some parts to be hidden, particularly in the lower torso region. Females have the added burden of concealing their chest areas. And so the divide in the genders begins in earnest, at least for the children. Nobody reviews a thing with the adults, which is a separate problem we won’t discuss here.

      Schools receive mixed messages about what to teach children about their bodies. In my time, the girls were huddled into the auditorium, the windows blocked with paper shields, and we saw a few special films geared toward exposing us to the wonders of female maturity. As far as I know, the boys never received such an initiation about themselves. Women enter into a world of monthly scheduling, hiding and controlling body regions which must be kept hidden, and how to suddenly adapt to when boys enter into it all. And this happens in a vacuum, when puberty does not.

      Some parents are so against sex education, they send their children to schools in which it isn’t taught. And some people are so set against letting women learn anything, some never attend school at all. A body of water can separate the free from the oppressed in many parts of the world: in the United States, it’s sometimes just a state border. It is a tragedy that human ignorance is set by a wooden gavel hitting a wooden slab after robed, designated individuals decide an argument is settled one way or another.

      Throughout history, women have been given freedoms and had them taken away; we have been lesser citizens and then revered in cycles. It used to be women were offered courtesy; men would stand when we entered a room, or doors were held for us. Now it’s everybody (formerly man) for themselves.

      We were allowed to own property in some early cultures, but shunned from public view in others. We covered our faces with scarves or full-on hoods and robes. We did “let it all hang out” for a short while, which wasn’t such a good idea, but we did gain the right to vote.

      Knowledge is a vital part of what makes us human, regardless of gender. The freedom to become who we are meant to be is often stifled by the blind routines under which some people conduct their lives and raise their children, and it can differ from household to household. What is a crime in the house on the corner may not be in the prettiest home on the block. You are sharing your daily lives with both of them.

      Eventually, all the people take sides on what they want the world to be like. Sometimes the decisions we make are detrimental to certain groups. What we don’t need is to set up one gender or the other to be less than what they are the moment they enter this world; that is when the real damage begins.

      If a human being is now considered less because of being female, we’re all in big trouble.

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    • Ego Blasted

      Posted at 6:40 pm by kayewer, on June 18, 2022

      As a writer, I have worked for years to stay on top of my projects. My biggest one is my WIP (work in progress), which is likely to grow into a series. With the help of a supportive critique group, my writing is getting along well, and I decided to go on a writing retreat to focus on it outside the demands of work, paying bills, shopping, and trying to have a social life. I selected a vacation spot for a few days of nothing but writing. That way it didn’t matter if the weather was bad or not: I’d be sequestered in a little corner just writing away.

      Before getting to the vacation, however, I participated in a writer’s group meeting featuring two people in the publishing industry. They planned to discuss some basics and tips. That’s in the future for me, but it never hurts to get some advance advice.

      Imagine my shock when the publishers started talking about what doesn’t work in the industry, and I realized, to my horror, that they were describing me! I fit many of the descriptive caveats they were talking about, and then some. I had too few followers. My first installment was too long.

      I had to make sure my mouth didn’t drop open, or I didn’t start crying. Fortunately, I was on mute. But there I was, my face a neutral mask on the Zoom meeting screen, feeling like I was the writer formally known as. . . . a melted snowball in the seventh sub-basement of Hell. Hopeless.

      I never felt so depressed in my life. What was I writing a novel for, if it won’t make it out of the starting gate? Why should I continue risking arthritis in my hands typing away for no reason?

      Then I remembered that our founding fathers said we were given the right to pursue happiness, but it isn’t guaranteed. Besides, these were two people from an indie press, small and exclusive, so maybe my story would not apply anyway, at least not to them.

      My critique chapters have been written (more like revising right now) one set of 3,500 words at a time (that’s our group limit), so maybe I must dissect the story a bit shorter than I originally planned.

      It’s quite a shock to the system to hear some negative news a few days before you’re planning to do the very thing they said you shouldn’t bother doing. I don’t care.

      Some of the best works have come from the strangest of circumstances. Publishing a novel involves a bit of serendipity. Luck. Being in the right place, with the right manuscript, at the right time.

      I brushed away the detritus of criticism, and I have decided to continue.

      I’ve never been one to give up.

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    • The Walking Tour

      Posted at 2:50 pm by kayewer, on June 12, 2022

      The experienced walker can take on the length of a marathon–26.2 miles–in less than eight hours. I took on an estimated six-plus miles in New York City the other day, and my feet are killing me.

      I guess you could say 6.2 miles down and 26 to go.

      Don’t invite me to a marathon, unless you want me to cheer from the stands.

      Walking in the city is commonplace, and I’ve done it for years, but not that much. Normally my route circles a ten-block radius if I’m going to the theater, or a straight stroll if I am going to Lincoln Center.

      Naturally not all streets in New York City are in a straight line. Some are circles or meander off to one side or another, which I learned while trying to go to First Avenue. I passed through the normal countdown of designated hot spots, including Park Avenue and Avenue of the Americas. Then I would take a right turn down a street or two and move down another avenue again.

      I was dressed for Lincoln Center, so that meant “sensible” shoes instead of sneakers. My old faithful shoes, which had provided painless comfort forever, decided to rebel a quarter of the way to First Avenue, and I started feeling the telltale pains of a flayed blister. As I walked, I reminded myself that, to remedy the situation, I had to find something rare in the city: a place to sit down that didn’t involve buying anything. Not that I don’t want to support businesses, but it was between breakfast and lunch, and most places were not open yet, and the idea of tending my foot in a public building was rather icky.

      As I limped along, I passed a fellow sucking on a joint and blowing fragrant clouds, which made their way past me. So I was gimping along and smelled of weed. Not a great start to a day out.

      I finally found seating around a tree, within minutes of my destination, and applied a bandage. Fortunately I’m one of those pedestrians whose purse contains emergency everything. A park full of benches turned up two blocks later.

      My plan was to visit a small shop in the thirties somewhere, and I found it. It wasn’t going to open for two more hours, and I couldn’t wait that long, because I had to return to familiar territory before my show was scheduled. So much for making a small stop for a small shop. Maybe next time, in the fall, after I’ve bought some comfy sneakers that can pass for sensible shoes to the untrained eye. One must try to be fashionable at Lincoln Center, even if your feet kill you. Otherwise I would need a taxi ride, where it doesn’t matter if you wear sensible shoes. Just shoes that protect you from a cab floor.

      By the time I got home, after 14 1/2 hours, I felt as if I had used up my lifetime allotment of walking privileges, and feared I would never walk again. Fortunately my blister is healing, the legs are holding their own, and a thorough night’s sleep seems to have alleviated most of the physical damage from trying to navigate over six miles of the city.

      It’s estimated that, when a person is urged to walk 10,000 steps daily, I walked under 13,000 steps, so I carried over 3,000 to today. I’m going to need them if I’m going to get those fashionable sneakers.

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    • Suppose They Gave a Blog?

      Posted at 5:48 pm by kayewer, on June 4, 2022

      Keeping a blog is a responsibility, and I gladly take it on every week. Being a blogger in a world full of bloggers has one large problem in the way: making it worthwhile. Some people get no followers of their blog, while others have followers off the charts. I’m somewhere in the range that has no true meaning, because nobody looks at the people in eleventh place. Sometimes people are curious to find out who is at the very bottom of the popularity list, and it may not be that a blogger sitting in last place is a bad blogger, but they may have no wherewithal to obtain a massive following.

      Some people are natural people magnets; they blink double and hordes of people notice. Others could stand naked on a street corner and nobody would bat an eye. There is no true explanation for this phenomenon, but when you take on a task that requires recognition, like keeping a blog, the how and why do matter a great deal.

      My biggest issue right now is with Facebook (or should I say Meta). It appears I have been permanently banned from boosting my blog on my Facebook page. The first time it happened, I tried to determine the cause, and I figured out that, even though our world was dealing with a disease, I could not use terminology about it in my posts without being flagged. Let me give an example: let’s say the word “tingle” is associated with a global crisis, and I wrote something that ended with “while we’re dealing with this tingle.” Facebook put me in “jail” for a month just for using the word “tingle.” I didn’t give an opinion on “tingle,” and I didn’t post any false information about “tingle.” Still, mentioning it was apparently a naughty thing to do. Suddenly I found myself permanently banned from post boosts, so other than standing in a public place with a sandwich board with my page info on it, my ability to obtain more followers is a bust.

      A blogger without publicity at their fingertips is blogging for their own amusement, and that’s not what I originally set out to do. However, as anybody on the platform knows, trying to communicate with Meta is like standing on a soapbox and giving a speech; you’re lucky if anybody pays attention to you at all, unless you pay the audience. And I can’t even do that.

      So it looks like Meta doesn’t care about me or my money. Fortunately my readers care enough to view my posts every week, and I am grateful for all of you.

      The month of June will be more challenging than normal, so you may see a post on a Friday or Sunday on occasion, but I do intend to post as I’ve resolved to do, and I will be happy if three people read them. Or 30. Or 300 if I’m lucky.

      The thought of more zeros added to my viewership numbers is always a possibility. The anticipation of that possibility makes me tingle all over.

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    • Gradual Decline

      Posted at 4:50 pm by kayewer, on May 28, 2022

      First of all, I want to congratulate all the high school and college students who have completed their studies and are on their way to meet the world. Whether you worked hard or not, the diplomas will be in your hands, and you will now set out to prove yourselves worthy of recognition.

      If social media is any indicator of what you have learned, I’m wondering about the future.

      A popular post from an individual stated that their preferred partner should be rich enough to take them both on a trip to “Due By.” There are a few things wrong with what is obviously a grammatical gaffe. First, it’s apparent that students aren’t learning geography. In my day, Social Studies was beginning to suffer, as evidenced by my teacher asking us to point out Vietnam on a map (this was back in the 1970s when the conflict there was still a topic) and getting no responses. This particular misspelled place is Dubai in the United Arab Emirates, and has become symbolic of that region’s overabundance of wealth because of its luxury tourist attractions and living standards. It’s been in the news, so the correct spelling is out there. Second, if you are marrying just for luxury trips, your own living standards may be a bit skewed. Third, once you’ve spent the money for that Dubai excursion, you still come home to, well, a home. It requires taxes to be paid, interiors and exteriors to be up-kept, and you need money for food, clothing, and all the basics of life outside sipping cocktails in a place you haven’t even learned to spell.

      Another post was captioned, “Selfie with the Statue of Liberty.” The woman in the shot is looking cute as her phone is pointed up at Lady Liberty, which has apparently morphed into a lattice structure in Paris: she was in front of the Eiffel Tower. Another post mentioned a negative aspect of America and added that they were glad they were in the United States. So we’re not in the same country anymore.

      Let’s check the temperature. One social media post read, “It’s like ten the grease outside.” I don’t know when grease temperature became a weather thing, but he probably meant “degrees.”

      Somebody wanted to double their cookie recipe, but could not figure out how to set the oven temperature from 400 to 800 degrees. Or should I say the grease? If you recall an earlier column, maybe this is the perfect candidate for the Tovala oven. This boo-boo ties in with the person who tried to imagine what it would be like to be pregnant with twins for eighteen months (nine months per baby).

      Finally, to end this torment, let’s look at a suggestion from another person who apparently missed out on an important facet of the school experience: they were wondering if there was a kind of book subscription service to allow you to borrow and then return books. Folks, this person never visited a LIBRARY!?!?

      But yes, you have the diploma. Now go out there and see what life is like in Due By.

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    • Holiday Tummies

      Posted at 4:57 pm by kayewer, on May 21, 2022

      A three-day holiday weekend is coming up, which means that anybody who is on a diet will break it to enjoy cookouts with other like-minded people. If you are not one of the millions of people on a diet, you will eat more than usual, and if you’ve broken a diet, what the heck: pretend it’s December.

      Those people who go away for the weekend are the most intrepid of all, because after such an excursion, their lives are never the same.

      The general routine of a three-day holiday weekend goes something like this:

      Since nobody at work got Friday off, except for somebody you think should not ever get a day off because they bum around all day anyway, you can’t start loading the car until you get home. At 7:00. Because of traffic jams on all the freeways starting two hours before your shift ends.

      Your car becomes a moving van filled with everything a family needs to pretend they are not on vacation. The kids have outgrown the beachwear you bought a month ago, your tan lines don’t match any outfit you chose for the trip, and the dog has to go to grandma’s because the pet boarders won’t accept him since he managed to hunt down a metropolis of fleas and welcome them onto his torso yesterday (of course you had to lie to grandma about this, or she wouldn’t take him). The vet office is closed.

      The kids whine because the gaming console can’t come with you, and because you chose to vacation in a dry beach community, the beer and spritzers have to stay home. The adults pack for six days, and the kids pack as if they’re only leaving home for two hours (besides, they hate the clothes you got them, and they don’t fit), but neither knows this when you finally claw through the piles of stuff in the cabin of your vehicle and head out.

      After spending two days’ worth of funds on snacks for the children en route, you reach the destination. The kids immediately want to hit the fun parts of town; you want to flop on the bed and sleep, but first somebody has to prepare the place for the stay, meaning the wife sets up and then drops dead asleep an hour later. She then awakens and finds that the bed won’t support her; neither will the husband, who is missing the cell fiber cushioned deluxe mattress at home with the TV within range.

      Meanwhile, grandma calls and says she and the dog are scratching like crazy.

      Next morning, continental breakfast doesn’t agree with your vegan daughter or your gluten-free son, and the husband has fully realized that they need to leave town just to grab a beer. The wife forgot her nail file, and an acrylic popped off while she was sleeping. The son wears the same colorless shirt from yesterday and says he forgot to pack anything to replace it. The family ends up having breakfast at a chain that, fortunately, is the same as the one at home, but more expensive.

      The wife visits the chain drug store for glue to reattach her acrylic nail, then they go to the local fashion store and nab the best bargain shirt for the son so they can visit a nice restaurant. The daughter runs into some friends from school and goes off to have a vegan barbecue with other, cooler parents.

      By the time the weekend is over, the parents are over their spending limit, the kids are distraught because nobody remembered phone chargers, and grandma isn’t on speaking terms with anybody.

      Break the diet at home, people. Vacations away from home are for the professionals only.

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    • A Little Humor Collection

      Posted at 5:03 pm by kayewer, on May 14, 2022

      The world has had enough to rant about these past few weeks, but I was fortunate enough to actually receive two compliments from customers this week. It’s never happened before! Really. When the “Contact Us” department is really the complaint department, it’s tough to plow through so much negativity for what seems like forever. Finally it paid off.

      To celebrate, here are some amusing snippets, bits of advice and old favorite anecdotes:

      • Back in the old days of photo developing, a brother and sister visited the local shop and presented the owner with a picture; in it was a cow, viewed from the left side, which was apparently being milked, for out of sight by her hidden right flank were the legs of a stool, a bucket underneath her udders, and two booted feet. “This is the only picture we have of our Uncle Carl,” the brother said. “Can you edit out the cow so we can see him?”
      • A social media post commented on historical recordings: “Beethoven has been dead for centuries, but there are streaming recordings of his music. How did they do that?”
      • A man went to his doctor and complained, “Every time I pass gas, I make a noise that sounds like ‘Honda.'” The doctor replied, “You need a dentist for that; it’s caused by an abscess in your tooth.” The man was astonished, “Gee doctor, how could you tell?” The reply: “Everybody knows that abscess makes the fart go Honda.”
      • A man was at the side of the road after an automobile accident crying, “My Porsche, my lovely new Porsche!” The first officer on scene shook his head, “You’re so materialistic, haven’t you noticed that your whole left arm has been severed?” The man looked and screamed in horror, “My Rolex!”
      • If you really want to spend some interesting time with the younger (under 20) folks in your life, gather them around a rotary phone and ask them to make a call.
      • Don’t look like a tourist when you rent a vehicle on vacation; first thing, check the dash’s icons for the little gas pump and note the arrow next to it on one side or the other, as that will tell you what side you should pull up to at the gas station to fill up.
      • If you get a pull in a sweater, the simplest way to pull the intrusive yarn to the inside is to ask the local kid with braces for a dental floss threader, preferably the loop type, which will easily help you slide the pull through without complicated maneuvers.
      • I cut a paper cup to the dimensions of my morning measurement of steel-cut oats, and note the weight of my cereal bowl so I can measure to the gram my portion of boxed cereal (you add the weight of the cereal serving to the weight of the bowl).
      • Want to cut more sugar out of your life? Substitute either a mandarin or clementine for orange juice, which is concentrated and packs a load of sweetness per glass. The fruit will add fiber to your diet, too. Another alternate may be vitamin water, which often has over a full day’s vitamin C.
      • Last one: the principal interrupted the class Zoom meeting for attendance figures from the teacher, but she forgot to separate them by gender. “I have thirty in attendance and one scheduled absent,” she told him. “Ms. Delatroix, I need sex,” he replied.

      Are you groaning? Contact us.

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    • Don’t Be a Karen

      Posted at 5:10 pm by kayewer, on May 7, 2022

      When you work in customer service, especially as long as I have, the amount of abuse can be staggering. It wasn’t always that way. In the good old days, customers were as polite as those behind the counter or on the phone, but now there is also email, and over the years people seem to be coming unhinged.

      Here are some examples of Karen behavior–a term applied to those people who overreact to issues, negative or not–that I have encountered, so you can see how not to become just like them and have a better experience.

      When starting to register a complaint, people have a habit of beginning with what I call the “break out the violins moment,” in which one opens with a sentence such as, “I have been with you for so-many-years.” Naturally most businesses value long-time customers, but our experience often is that you only contact us with a problem, so this sentence immediately prepares us for something unpleasant. If you want to mention your years of loyalty, save it until closer to the end of the tirade, when you are looking for a certain type of resolution. If the experience was really that bad as a loyal customer, you may get a better outcome this way.

      The offshoot of this is the person who tells us that “every time I use you, it goes wrong.” Most places don’t stay in business if they consistently do things improperly, so you may want to consider that something else is happening to cause that outcome; or maybe you’re just torturing yourself.

      Using what was termed in a Star Trek movie as “colorful metaphors” will also cause mental defensive maneuvers to be put in place. I have seen emails with the F bomb dropped, but also rather laughable terminology such as “pointless program” and “idiotic instructions” (note the use of the same letter in both words for maximum effect). If you complain with a thesaurus at hand, you’re just wasting time. Be succinct and simple (see, I can do it, too), and you may fare better.

      Accusations about websites via email can be irksome. I wish I could watch a person actually navigate a screen before registering a complaint, because if a company’s website flubbed as often as they get comments about how awful it is, incoming business would shut down almost instantly, and the responsible site builders would be the laughingstock of the industry. Often people just don’t use the scrolling properly, enter data incorrectly or skip something that needs not to be skipped. Take your time; don’t try to do a process on your ten-minute break or lunch half hour.

      Accusations are a real hoot, because often the charges have nothing to do with anything. Somebody this past week said the online staff were being “predatory” by not placing a specific option as a button on our webpage. That was a head scratcher if ever I saw one. If there were predatory behavior, it would be in the form of seeking out information, which often comes in button form. These types of negative comments usually lead to a back-and-forth conversation in which the complainer is determined to bully the staff into submission. It never works. Companies have terms and conditions, and they’re readily available. If you don’t like the terms, discuss and decide how you want to proceed, but seeking exceptions just because you are you don’t normally fly.

      Mentioning one’s credentials to bolster a comment can also be hilarious. Emails with second grade spelling from somebody with a supposed four-year degree cancel each other out.

      Another big complaint that has come down the line recently is the one about treating new customers better than the current ones. If I could respond to those jabs, I would tell them the story about a freebie I received for a magazine subscription, when a few months later the same magazine offered a different premium, and I wanted that one as well. That first premium was a cassette tape which has since been consigned to a used record store, and I’m glad I didn’t get a new one, because I enjoyed the first one, and it’s one per customer. If you didn’t get your one, that’s a different story.

      Anyway, anybody who would cheat a new customer out of the same experience they had when they were a new customer is a bit of a boor if you ask me. Some experiences in life are designed to be had once.

      I will now end this one experience you were kind enough to sit through, with a short tale; for the first time in ages, an email came from a customer who began by saying thanks for the services provided over the years, went on to say that he felt he may have done something to cause the problem he brought to our attention, and asked if we could help. Which was done easily.

      Such interactions should not be the rarity. Just as Karens should not exist as a grumpy type of customer.

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    • May Day, May I?

      Posted at 4:51 pm by kayewer, on April 30, 2022

      Some movies have traditional viewing dates: Star Wars fans like to watch their favorite episode(s) on May 4th (a pun on “May the Force be With You”), and a few weeks ago near Easter time ABC television aired The Ten Commandments. One year they didn’t run it, and the public protest was so great, they agreed to run it annually from then on.

      I picked up a tradition for May Day which has a multi-layered purpose. On May Day, I view a movie called The Wicker Man (1973). There is a newer version starring Nicholas Cage, and I do like the actor, but the original has an atmosphere which can’t be replicated.

      The film, directed by Robin Hardy, deals with religion, ritual, traditions, law, and is a combination horror and mystery. A police sergeant named Neil Howie (Edward Woodward, the original Equalizer before Queen Latifah and Denzel Washington) receives an anonymous letter asking him to investigate the remote island of Summerisle, where it’s claimed a young girl has gone missing without a care from her family or the island’s residents. He flies there by small aircraft and meets with ignorance at every turn; most people deny such a girl has ever lived on the island. When they do concede that she may be a resident, they don’t appear moved to aid him.

      Howie is a conservative, stalwart Christian, and finds his investigation on the island trying, as it is populated solely by pagans, and he witnesses several ancient rituals and topical songs at the local inn/tavern. He makes an appointment to meet with Lord Summerisle (Christopher Lee), who openly tells Howie of the island’s history and of the religious clerics having left because of paganism and the unnatural cultivating of the famous apples imported to the mainland. He invites Howie to continue hunting down clues, which begin to form a horrific truth from which Howie may not escape.

      The film contains sexuality, nudity and some interesting dichotomies as Howie navigates the search; he is warned and encouraged in various ways to lay off, but he is determined to solve what happened to young Rowan Morrison, culminating in the island’s celebration of May Day, including frivolity and sacrifices to assure their continuing livelihood amidst failing apple production, and Howie is a witness to it all.

      The story is disturbing, but I won’t give key points away. What does matter in watching an “art” film of this type is keeping an open mind to differing points of view; while Howie tries to get everybody to obey the law when they have other ideas, he stubbornly refuses to see the danger in front of him.

      It’s a coincidence that May Day falls on a Sunday this year. My watching this movie may seem rather out of place due to its content, but it has a strong message about faith on both sides. So it seems fitting.

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