The Nice Lady On The Postage Stamps

I started a stamp collection when I was nine years old.  At that time, it was clear that most countries had men on their postage stamps. 

The French, however, had Marianne, the national symbol, dressed in classic garb.  Great Britain had the Queen.  The United States had a few historic women on stamps, dressed in unflattering historic costume.

Only one country had a contemporary woman on its postage stamps:  a woman wearing modern clothing with her hair pulled back in a bun.  She looked like a nice lady. 

The stamps were from Argentina.  The nice lady was Eva Peron. She was known as Evita and she died the year I started collecting stamps.

I got to visit Argentina exactly sixty years after Eva Peron’s death.  Except for a Broadway musical and a Madonna film, I expected to find very few traces of her.  Instead, I found that although Evita is dead, she has never left Argentina.

Evita appears on Argentine currency, the 100 peso note.  Her profile appears many stories tall on the top of a building.  The word “Peronista” appears on political campaign posters.  When you walk into the giant Plaza de la Republica, your eyes automatically seek out the balcony where Evita stood to give her speeches.  Or, in my case, the balcony where Madonna stood to sing Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina.

 When we were in Buenos Aires, we asked other tourists what the highlight of the city was.  Everyone said we must visit the Cemetery.

We went.  It was more like a city of the dead than a cemetery.  4,700 grand mausoleums lining narrow lanes, with street signs at the intersections.  Grieving statuary.  Monuments.

Evita is buried there now.  Sixty years after her death people are still putting fresh flowers on her tomb.  

This woman, who I first saw on some postage stamps, had an enormous impact on her country.

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A YouTube video, produced by Ned Nickerson, of newsreel footage while Karen Carpenter sings a stunning version of Don't Cry For Me, Argentina.  Make sure you watch from the 4 min 40 sec mark, where you can see Evita's remarkable funeral procession through Buenos Aires --- at that time the third largest city in the Western Hemisphere (6 minutes):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnufQVpiE70

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com

Big Tex Went Up In Flames

I have been to the Texas State Fair three times, and each time I was greeted by Big Tex: “Hooowwwdddeee!”

He was a grotesque 52-foot-tall talking cowboy statue.  He was badly proportioned and looked like he had been built by a junior high school shop class.  But Texans overlooked all this, and made Big Tex into an icon of the State Fair.  However, last year the poor guy was lost to an electrical fire that started in his jaw.

Of all my visits, one Texas State Fair incident stands out in my mind. It took place in the Livestock Judging Pavilion. 

I sat down in the bleachers to watch cattle judging.  I noticed a guy in his twenties sitting two rows in front of me, wearing jeans and a cowboy hat.  Something about him told me that he was for real.  He was not a city dweller who had just bought a hat at the State Fair Market Place.  He was a real cowboy, someone who worked with cattle for a living.

I followed his gaze.  He was focused on one heifer in the ring. It looked like his younger sister was showing this heifer.

The guy gestured: bring the cow’s chin up.  The girl brought the chin up.  Angle the cow’s head to the right.  The girl angled the head.  Move the cow’s rump a bit.  She moved the rump.

She followed everything her cowboy brother suggested.

The judge appeared.  She walked, impassive and stern, up and down the line of heifers.  When the judge made her final decision, she stood still.  She called out three of the heifers.

The judge did not call out little sister’s heifer.  Little sister stared straight at older brother, in shock, in disbelief.  I recognized this moment.  It is the universal moment that says: “I trusted in you.  I followed your instructions.  You let me down.”

I was transported from the bleachers in the largest state fair in America to a movie theater in my hometown.  I was six years old and my brother John, who was thirteen, had recruited me to help him win the movie theater's Halloween Costume Contest.  He got a bedsheet from Mom, and we were to be a horse.  He would be the front end and little brother, of course, would be the rear end.

Being the rear end of a horse required grace and concentration.  I could not see where I was going, but I had to walk up a set of steps, walk across a stage, and walk down a set of steps, synchronizing my speed to my brother’s speed while not stepping on his feet.

My brother and I got back to our movie theater seats.  I fully expected us to win.  We did not.  This was the moment when I thought: “I trusted in my older brother.  I followed his instructions.  He let me down.”

The Texas State Fair has three million visitors a year. 

If I were to go back to the Fair for the fourth time, I would not miss being greeted by Big Tex and his booming “Hooowwwdddeee!”  I would be in too big a hurry to get to the Judging Pavilion, to see if I can catch some real human drama amidst the livestock.

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R.I.P.  Big Tex  1952-2012 (video is 1 minute long):
YouTube Video - Big Tex Talks

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com

The Africa Moment In The Book Of Mormon

I had doubts as I settled into my seat at the Fox Theater for The Book of Mormon (the play, not the book).  I have never watched an episode of “South Park”; was I really going to enjoy an entire musical written by the South Park guys?

I expected a show filled with raunchy mocking of the Mormon religion.  

The first act delivered plenty of mockery: pointing out that Mormons believe that President Thomas Monson speaks directly to God, they believe that ancient Jews built boats and sailed to America, they believe that the Garden of Eden was in Jackson County, Missouri.  This last belief elicited a lot of guffaws from the St. Louis audience, most of whom have been to Jackson County.

In the play, two young American men are sent to Uganda by the Mormon Church with a mission: to teach about The Book of Mormon.  They are clearly out of their element in Uganda.  More mockery ensues.  Then the curtain falls for intermission.

I was dissatisfied.  I saw that something was missing from the play: the Africa Moment.

I knew what was missing because I was a young American man, sent to Nigeria by the United State Peace Corps, with a mission to teach mathematics and to show Nigeria what America and Americans were like.

I remember my Africa Moment.  I arrived in Nigeria with weeks of training behind me.    But then I stepped into an African classroom for the first time.  I was unsure of what these students needed.  I was unaware of what they knew already. I was overwhelmed by the fact all the students had black skin and wore identical white school uniforms. And I was uncomfortable by the fact that they all had Muslim names and I didn’t know how to pronounce their names correctly.

I stood there in my white skin in front of the blackboard, 36 pairs of eyes looking at me, waiting for me to teach them mathematics.  That was the Moment: I was face-to-face with Africa.

Africa always wins.  I had to adjust, scramble, experiment, until I finally hit my stride.

When I hit my stride, there came another moment.  I began to identify with my students.  We were all part of the same school, working toward a common goal of getting everyone to graduate.  And I knew how to pronounce all the students' names correctly.

The curtain at the Fox Theater rose for the second act.  Those South Park guys must have known what I was waiting for. 

Elder Cunningham is preaching about The Book of Mormon.  This is his Africa Moment: the Ugandans are not interested.  Africa wins --- Elder Cunningham starts making things up and pretending they are in the book to get the interest of the Ugandans.  Elder Price goes to confront a warlord.  This is his Africa moment: his religious teachings have no effect.  Africa wins --- he must find some other way to influence the warlord.

As the second act goes into full swing, the play focuses on how the missionaries adapt and have some success.  The missionaries, to show that they now identify with the Africans, sing a song called “I Am Africa”.

I was amazed.  The South Park guys somehow knew what I went through, and they replicated here on stage. 

Towards the end of the second act, there is no more mockery.  Things become so warm-hearted that the finale is actually a tribute to The Book of Mormon (the book, not the play).

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In this YouTube video you can listen to “I Am Africa” from the Broadway show soundtrack (2 minutes long)

I Am Africa

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com