Tom Watson

Down in the Tunnels

My grandfather on my mother's side was a sandhog in New York, literally digging ditches for the new city subway system in the years before World War I to put himself through Manhattan College. He was Irish and poor. His parents were fresh off the boat and lived in a sparse cold-water flat down on Charlton Street on the lower West Side near the docks. After he returned from France, he entered politics and worked for Al Smith and the Democrats - and the working man, the people he came from.

I was reminded of this bit of personal history reading Steve Gilliard's brilliant coverage of the New York transit strike and its aftermath, a battle over the tunnels my grandfather dug with his own hands - he and tens of thousands of other working poor in the days before such municipal work was unionized in this town. Dangerous times, filled with death and injury on the job, no health insurance, and unskilled workers driving trains and working track. The bad old days, at least for immigrants and their minority cousins.

Gilliard was one of the few liberal bloggers to stand up for the union side in the dispute, which shut down the subways and buses for 60 hours and caused formerly populist newspapers to publicly abandon their souls - especially the rag masquerading as the old Daily News under the plutocrat Mortimer Zuckerman. Too many liberals were too quick to take the MTA's side, or to let inconvenience cover up the key issue - which was breaking organized municipal labor. Today, Steve has a great post on the strike's winners and losers and he reserves his most bitter vitriol for fair-weather progressives. Here's a taste:

What also amazes me about the lack of support for the TWU among the blogging set was the lack of realization of their role in preserving the city. Their salaries, which stay in the city, have made New York stable and safe. They are the home and car buyers, the people who fill Target on weekends and Sylvia's on Sunday. They made the revival of Harlem and Central Brooklyn possible.

Without those salaries, Billyburg and the LES would be dangerous dumps you'd avoid at all cost.
Why? Because New York has a viable urban inner city. It isn't Washington or Detroit or someother city which was abandonded for the suburbs.

The New York where you live out your Sex and the City fantasies exists because people doing dangerous, unglamorous jobs keep their salaries in the city. Not that many people want to recognize that. They bought into the nonsense pumped out by the tabs and the TV. They recycled the most odious cheap labor arguments without any real thought behind them. It never occurred to them that New York's economics needs well-paid workers at places like Verizon, Con Ed and for the city.

He's right, of course. Do we really want cheap labor running the subways, repairing the buses, or keeping the tracks clear and safe? I do not. The TWU is at least half-filled with skilled labor you simply could not replace any time soon. Municipal labor unions are vital to the public safety: ask the cops, the firefighters, the teachers, and all the infrastructure workers. Like Steve, I expected the Manhattan Institute to call for replacement workers - to summon the ghost of Ronald Reagan to fire the ungrateful brutes. I expected the politicians to pose and prate. But I didn't expect so many liberals to be so silent.

With one prominent exception: James Wolcott names Roger Toussaint New Yorker of the Year.

Lifting the Veil

My friend Andrea calls the political year of 2005 "The Great Unveiling" and it's a worthy metaphor:

The curtain opened and there it was for all to see: corruption, cronyism, false pretenses, the desire to eradicate the social contract, poverty, the broken promise of the American Dream. But what was also unveiled was Americans' reliance upon their government to lead us effectively, to maintain our infrastructure, to provide insurance so we can grow old in dignity. And what happens when the government fails its side of the bargain.

So true - and given the depths of failure at the national - so sadly obvious. What may not be so obvious are the smaller stories of that failure, policy decisions that we live with, ideas for change that get nowhere, whether in Washington or Albany. We need ideas, desperately, and it doesn't matter whether you're registered as a Democrat, a Republican, or neither to see that dearth of creative thinking and progressive government. (And yes, progressive government can exist within conservative ideas about taxing and spending, my friends).

We're at the start of a crucial political cycle in our recent national history, next year's Congressional elections, when almost certainly the gap between the ruling party (beset by corruption) and the minority party (beset by stasis) will narrow significantly. To get an idea of where we're going and what the issues are (besides Iraq) I recommend reading DMI's annual report, which Andrea and her staff produced - I guarantee you'll find some nugget, some idea you missed in all the personality-based tumult of '05, some item notably blogworthy. You'll find it here.

As many of you know, I sit on the board of DMI and I value its non-partisan, independent - but relentlessly progressive - policy work extremely. If you're looking for a blog that takes policy seriously, and goes beyond the talking heads and poll numbers (and who isn't?), I urge you to add the DMIBlog to your feed reader, blogroll, or start page. The bloggers there are the folks whose ideas will fuel our politics for years to come.

Picture of the Year

Normally, I don't go in for these year-in-review packages - the biggest stories, the hottest starlets, the usual phony summing up based solely on the flipping of a single calendar page. Makes us feel important, I suppose. Then too, they fill space when much of the news staff is whooping it up in holiday reverie. Then I saw the photograph of the year on CNN.com, just a thumbnail really. Followed the link to Time's Best Photos of the Year - and there it was: the brilliant wrenching phtograph of passengers on an American Airlines flight looking on as the flag-draped coffin of U.S. Marine Lt. Jim Cathey is unloaded from the belly of the jet plane on the tarmac in Remo.

The image brings the war home. We fly around the country, generally safe and in comfort, on business or on vacation. We snarl at TSA screeners, take off our shoes, remove the laptops from the carry-on bags. Then we settle in with our iPods and a book, order up a Heineken, and watch the the United States of America slip by peacefully in the jetstream. And we don't realize that a Marine rides in the cargo hold.

The photograph was taken by Todd Heisler of the Rocky Mountain News, part of a large portfolio of images that is among the best of Stateside photojournalism of this long, discouraging war. The photographs accompanied a wonderfully-written series by Jim Sheeler; the two journalists spent the past year with the Marines stationed at Aurora's Buckley Air Force Base who have found themselves called upon to notify families of the deaths of their sons in Iraq.

Read the full package - nothing captures the year that was, the sadness and waste of 2005, better than this Pulitzer-worthy wonder of sacrifice and grit ... and faithful service.

Holmes for Christmas

Now I am myself a branded thief, without ever having touched the wealth for which I sold my character. God help me! God help me!" He burst into convulsive sobbing, with his face buried in his hands.

There was a long silence, broken only by his heavy breathing and by the measured tapping of Sherlock Holmes's finger-tips upon the edge of the table. Then my friend rose and threw open the door.

"Get out!" said he.

"What, sir! Oh, Heaven bless you!"

"No more words. Get out!"

And no more words were needed. There was a rush, a clatter upon the stairs, the bang of a door, and the crisp rattle of running footfalls from the street.

"After all, Watson," said Holmes, reaching up his hand for his clay pipe, "I am not retained by the police to supply their deficiencies. If Horner were in danger it would be another thing; but this fellow will not appear against him, and the case must collapse. I suppose that I am commuting a felony. but it is just possible that I am saving a soul. This fellow will not go wrong again; he is too terribly frightened. Send him to jail now, and you make him a jail-bird for life. Besides, it is the season of forgiveness. Chance has put in our way a most singular and whimsical problem, and its solution is its own reward. If you will have the goodness to touch the bell, Doctor, we will begin another investigation, in which, also a bird will be the chief feature."

- Arthur Conan Doyle, The Blue Carbuncle

Arise, Noble Scots!

The virtual equivalent of band of screaming highlanders, faces painted for battle, waving war clubs and wearing clan tartans, has descended upon one unhappy high school principal from Missouri. The AP reports the whole sad episode:

Nathan Warmack wanted to honor his heritage by wearing a Scottish kilt to his high school dance. Then a principal told him to change into a pair of pants.

What began with a few yards of tartan has sparked an international debate about freedom, symbols and cultural dress. More than 1,600 people have signed an Internet petition seeking an apology for the high school senior.

Scots in the United States are assembling a traditional ensemble they hope the student will wear to the prom, and his family is trying to change the school’s dress code policy.

[snip]

Warmack, a defensive lineman on the football team, lives in Jackson, a growing, largely middle-class city of about 14,000 people about 110 miles from St. Louis.

He got interested in his family’s Scottish ties after seeing Mel Gibson’s 1995 movie “Braveheart,” about William Wallace’s battle to overthrow English rule in 13th century Scotland. Warmack reads books about Scotland and visits Web sites to learn more about his family’s genealogy.

He bought a kilt off the Internet to wear to his school’s formal “Silver Arrow” dance in November. Warmack said he showed it to a vice principal before the dance, who joked he’d better wear something underneath it, and Warmack assured him he would.

[snip]

After Nathan Warmack and his date posed for pictures, principal Rick McClard, who had not previously seen the kilt, told the student he had to go change. Warmack refused a few times and said the outfit was recognizing his heritage.

Warmack alleges McClard told him: “Well, this is my dance, and I’m not going to have students coming into it looking like clowns.”

What a humorless geek! To deny anyone their traditional heritage, especially for a young man who clearly learned a lot from his own research - yeah, that's good education, Principal Skinner. Luckily, the clans are rising in the hills against this unwholesome tyranny.

I too have worn the kilt - proudly, indeed - my great-grandfather emigrated from Scotland in the late 19th century. The photo above (amusing, ain't it?) provides the proof. It was actually a Scots-Texas wedding outside of Houston, a terrific affair to celebrate the nuptials of this blogger. (I lost a bet to her, hence the kilt - her Scottish wager paid off big-time: incredibly cute kid pics here). That "Texan" to my right? That's this blogger. Verdict? A bit drafty, but quite comfy. And the artist dug it.

Ralph Kramden On Strike

Michael Bloomberg lives in a gorgeous townhouse a token flip from the Fifth Avenue on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Yet for the past couple of days, our so-called press in New York has covered his brave "commute" across the Brooklyn Bridge to City Hall like the Mayor is storming the beaches of Normandy under fire, the stroll from America's Fourth Largest City [thinning hair askew in hatless Kennedy imitation] taking on the moral air of the Boys of Pointe du Hoc as the maneuver is reported live on NewsRadio 88.

It ain't working. Nor is the Mayor's particularly jarring "thugs" reference in describing the men and women of the TWU, many of whom actually live in Brooklyn, like their symbolic spiritual forebear - one Ralph Kramden of Chauncey Street, occupation: bus driver.

I was thinking of Kramden (and his municpal working stiff pal Ed Norton) as I hoofed it from Gramercy Park back up to midtown after a meeting this afternoon. It was cold, dusk was falling, and the streets were teeming with people - people who seemed, on Day Two, moderately cheerful. As I waited to cross 34th Street, I chatted briefly with a cop at the barricade, heading up what was some kind of command post. He was an older guy, in his 50s, beefy, a lieutenent.

Short, polite conversation went something like this: Pretty crazy. Not so bad. They coming back soon? Hope so, but I don't know. It's cold. Could be worse. Is it bad today? Better than yesterday. They gonna get this done? That's up to the Governor, the Mayor and the fucking MTA.

See, the cops are with the union, not the politicians or the Peter Kalikows of the world. And I suspect the majority of New Yorkers are as well, the tipping point found roughly around yearly take-home pay and class background. [Incidentally, this NYPD looie said he was a detective pressed into uniform duty directing traffic - yet he was pretty damned upbeat].

I think Steve Gilliard - something of a lone voice in the generally anti-union blogosphere - has this thing nailed. I think the politicians (the ever-absent Pataki, especially) and the billion-dollar surplus-bragging MTA screwed this thing up. They could have settled. They could have afforded to settle. Eventually, they will settle. Roger Toussaint (who has some Gleason in him) and his union - ill-advised to walk out, I must admit, when more talking would have clearly have sufficed - will probably win. 'Cos Bloomberg will eventually stop his posturing and act like the CEO Mayor he purports to be.

When he realizes he can never beat Ralph Kramden in New York.

UPDATE: No shock to me - polls favor the union over the MTA. Reason? Most people work in New York, and many work very hard over long hours and in multiple jobs, often for difficult, unacountable bosses. Just to live here. This resonates. Also, Gilliard continues his incredible roll. And he's far from alone. Sadly, only Jarvis seems isolated with his union-busting big media gatekeeper pals Pinch, and Mort Zuckerman, and Rupe. Funnily enough, a comment left on Jeff's site (where he bashes he union and pokes fun at Jim Wolcott) gives Gilliard the praise his yeoman's work is due: "I’m not really a fan of Steve, but his articles on the strike beat everything I’ve found at other bloggers so far, not to speak of the lousy MSM. And I’ve been checking infos for two hours now. Other bloggers may not share his opinion, but then they should substantiate their columns instead of tossing around slogans copied from the MSM. Steve’s fact based comments on the issue are what good blogging looks like!" Hear him.

UPDATE II: The strike is over. Negotiations (despite the posturing of Pataki and others) began last night.

UPDATE III: The contract is settled. Despite every newspaper in town lining up against them - and despite some comments on this blog - it appears the union won. Biggest increases in a decade, more modest contributions to the health care, and total victory on the pension issue. So how high is Toussaint's stock now? [Oh yeah, here's Gilliard - bard of the TWU].

UPDATE IV: More from Gilliard here. It's amazing how Steve's blog became the center of rational thought about this strike, the union and its workers, and the failure of the politicians. Now Steve calls it for Toussaint, and he's right. He is also correct when he says this: "The Daily News and Post so miscovered the strike as to be rendered useless to the majority of New Yorkers." What a disaster for the so-called working class tabs!

The Bush Embolism II

The injection of machismo from the Karen Hughes emergency political medicine bag is not working. The President talks tough at a news conference, grimaces from the Oval, and whisks Vice President Cheney back from his Iraq photo opps to snarl. But the rip in the primary blood vessel of the Bush Administration - the one that traces American fear after 9/11 to make its infectious course through our body politic - is growing wider, and the killer stroke is taking its inevitable and tragic course.

The more the crooked and corrupt heart beats, the faster it pumps, the more oxygen it drains from the dying brain of this worst of American presidencies, the more blood spills uselessly upon the remains of justification, and decency, and legitimacy. Signs that, although it began with just a slight paralysis, a hitch in the step, the Bush Embolism grows (I'll note silence from the conservative libertarians who normally post comments on this blog) and this scandal of spying on Americans without the benefit of law or court is a death sentence:

- George Will tightens the strangling, bowtie noose on the leader of the party he loves.

- Noted lefty soft-shoe specialist Bob Barr hurls his worst at the leader of his own party: "The American people are going to have to say, 'Enough of this business of justifying everything as necessary for the war on terror.'"

- The more moderate Republicans are united. Here's Arlen Specter of Pennsylvania via Reuters today: "I have grave doubts as to its applicability ... they raise very fundamental questions ... about privacy and the Bill of Rights."

There will be hearings. This tear in the artery wall is growing rapidly, and I don't think there's a chance of closing it now. Especially as it begins to leak the names of the groups the Bush Administration considered threats capable of "another September the 11th." So far, that enemies list includes PETA, a Catholic workers group, and some rabid environmentalists. Finally, Bush has lost even security jock Jonathan Alter - go read his jagged Newsweek stab-wound and see if you can't see the gathering pool of blood on the snow.

UPDATE: Hell knows no fury like a justice scorned, or so my lawyer friends tell me anyway. So now the secret court that administers FISA is incensed over Bush's illegal end-run, and it seems like these judges ain't a gonna take it lying down.

Generosity Is a Lucky Charm

During the whole of this time, Scrooge had acted like a man out of his wits. His heart and soul were in the scene, and with his former self. He corroborated everything, remembered everything, enjoyed everything, and underwent the strangest agitation. It was not until now, when the bright faces of his former self and Dick were turned from them, that he remembered the Ghost, and became conscious that it was looking full upon him, while the light upon its head burnt very clear.

"A small matter," said the Ghost, "to make these silly folks so full of gratitude."

"Small!" echoed Scrooge.

The Spirit signed to him to listen to the two apprentices, who were pouring out their hearts in praise of Fezziwig: and when he had done so, said, "Why! Is it not! He has spent but a few pounds of your mortal money: three or four perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves this praise?"

"It isn't that," said Scrooge, heated by the remark, and speaking unconsciously like his former, not his latter, self. "It isn't that, Spirit. He has the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome; a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks; in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to add and count them up: what then? The happiness he gives, is quite as great as if it cost a fortune."

- Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

The Bush Embolism

The press still isn't on to this in a big way. Tomorrow's talking head shows will not give this story its full due. But the revelation that President Bush directed the NSA to spy on American citizens without availing himself of the courts - an admission of some 500-plus counts of a direct and clear violation of Federal law - was the cerebral embolism that will drain the Administration of its last twitches of legitimacy. The NSA stroke [held onto for a year by the disgustingly complicit New York Times editor Bill Keller] removes any pretense of policy without the sneering, greedy dry-humping of government for mere power, for the groping mastery of the weak by the strong, of the minor by the arrogant, of the citizen by the despot. Bush is now grievously wounded, and Congress - Republican or not - will not rescue him this time. The bleeding will grow, the stain will spread, and no one in the Administration (including the soon-to-be-indicted Karl Rove) will be able to close the artery. And that is terrible, because what is hemorraghing away in the dark night of this criminal administration is precious American freedom.

On the Nightstand

Some people love lists, especially at this time of year. I am not one of them. But because it's the season of giving and getting, and because I enjoy sharing recommendations with friends, this post is a list of books consumed over the past year that I give my whole-hearted "thumbs up" to.

As an aside, when I started this blog, I expected book reviews to be part of a steady diet of postings. Hasn't worked out that way and I'm not sure why, really. Perhaps it's my restless reading habit and frequent detours from the best-sellers; perhaps it's laziness. In any case, a yearly omnibus of (only positive) reviews seems useful (and easy).

Now, a few caveats. This is hardly a "Best of 2005" queue. Many of these books were not actually published this year; indeed some were not published this century. My nightstand is more of a neighborhood than a functional piece of furniture. Sure, it has a few books upon, competing with the lamp, the water glass, the radio, and the pills. But what I think of as "the nightstand" is really a region of stacked, printed material - and not even organized by genre, paperback or non, serious or pulp, etc. The stacks are purely random - to use the fave descriptor of the teen set these days - and my reading, while steady in consumption, is hit and miss. I read constantly, but often several books at once and I accumulate more quickly than I consume. I imagine many of you suffer from the same pleasant malady (the bain of spouses and significant others who appreciate the tiniest crumb of order).

And so, in no particular order, here is The List - you may buy (for Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanzaa, Solstice, Wild Card Saturday, Boxing Day, or the Feast of St. Thomas Becket) with my personal guarantee, though this carries no monetary or return value whatsoever. [I do not include the many clunkers I waded through, at least partly]. Note the lack of current political books; no accident - can't stand 'em, in most cases. Please, your own reviews and/or recommendations in comments please....And awaaaay we go:

Alexander Hamilton - Ron Chernow
The most important Founding Father (not including Franklin) never to be President, richly captured in this very serious, deft and thick one-volume biography. Best parts for me: Hamilton's incredible influence in the creation of the New York we know today.

The Bad Guys Won - Jeff Pearlman
The wild stories behind the 1986 New York Mets championship - Straw, Doc, Mookie, Davey, Carter, Backman, Dykstra and the rest. It's sloppy and all over the place, but a winning tale - much like that team itself.

Berlin Noir: March Violets/the Pale Criminal/a German Requiem - Phillip Kerr
The omnibus version of Kerr's three detective novels set in Germany before, during, and after the Second World War. Goes down real easy.

Carry Me Home: Birmingham, Alabama and the Climactic Battle of the Civil Rights Revolution - Diane McWhorter
An incredible story of a rapidly thrown-up Industrial Age city that never really relied on pre-Civil War slavery, but adopted all the worst of post-war racism. Written by a woman who grew up there in a sheltered, white middle class family and only came to understand what had happened - and her family's own role in the story - years later. I read this after visiting the Birmingham Civil Rights Museum and in the process learned about one of the figures of the civil rights movement whose name doesn't appear in many textbooks - Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth, a true hero.

The Catsitters - James Wolcott
A clever tale of modern love that told me more about the inner life of thousands of lonely New York apartments than about relationships.

A Coffin for Dmitrios - Eric Ambler
Actually picked this up on whim in "Tom's Store" on Amazon, and rediscovered a mystery master from the 30s and 40s.

The Complete Aubrey/Maturin Novels - Patrick O'Brian
Ah yes, the third time through - for the writing and for the philosophy; meeting O'Brian before he died was like meeting Dickens for me. (The complete hard-cover set of all 20 novels and the fragment of the 21st is both a bargain and a pleasure).

The Conquerors: Roosevelt, Truman and the Destruction of Hitler's Germany, 1941-1945 - Michael Beschloss
Great pulp history on the drive toward unconditional surrender for Germany, and the moral crusade behind it that has largely been forgotten. The hidden hero: Treasury Secretary Henry Morgenthau.

Darknet - J.D. Lasica
Easily the best book on citizen's media, written with an open mind - not crazy, misguided, libertarian fervor - by a long-time analyst. A realistic account of how big media needs control to assure profits, at least in the minds of technology-challenged executives anyway. If you read one book on Web 2.0, Darknet is the one.

Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America - Erik Larson
Incredible Chicago world's fair scandal, who knew?

Eisenhower's Lieutenants: The Campaign of France and Germany 1944-1945 - Russell F. Weigley
Dense, detailed history of the men who made the invasion of Europe the largest undertaking of arms in history, recommended by my good friend Eric.

Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72 - Hunter S. Thompson
Kerry should have read this one, which I picked up as a requiem read. Hilarious, sure. Truthful (in the whole, anyway) certainly.

Flyboys: A True Story of Courage - James Bradley
Torture and murder of American prisoners of war in the Pacific, a little-known story that's chilling and real.

Flykiller - Robert Janes
Another in the wonderfully dark detective series set in occupied France.

The Heart Knows Something Different: Teenage Voices from the Foster Care System - Al Desetta
These stories will break your heart, impress you with the inner strength of the young, and make you want to do something.

Hard Times - Charles Dickens
Thie fellow Dickens is on to something here - this combo of societal misery leavened with real human kindness may have a future on the best-seller lists.

Here is New York - E.B. White
Again to the masterwork from a fellow Mount Vernon man.

His Excellency: George Washington - Joseph Ellis
Washington the politician, written from letters, with real insight into the sphinx.

Intelligence in War: Knowledge of the Enemy from Napoleon to Al-Qaeda - John Keegan
No one writes military history better than Keegan, and this book doesn't let the side down; moreover, it's a tough book for very tough times - would that Americans at the highest points of government had read this book first.

Jefferson's War - Joseph Wheelan
Adventures of an American president who sent an invasion force to the Middle East.

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell - Susanna Clarke
I did not expect to like this massive, epic, rambling tale of magicians and politicians set in the London of Holmes and Watson. But damn if I never put it down. What fun it is creating an alternative world.

Lincoln's War: The Untold Story of America's Greatest President as Commander in Chief - Geoffrey Perret
Abraham Lincoln the stone-cold killer among hesitant, over-trained generals.

Live from New York - James Miller and Tom Shales
Belushi and the rest, a dazzling oral history tossed my way by Steve-o.

Lords of the Horizons: A History of the Ottoman Empire - Jason Goodwin
And we think we understand the Persia of today - what fools we westerners be. A lush and complex history that shows just how strange the pathways to modernity can be.

Luckiest Man: The Life and Death of Lou Gehrig - Jonathan Eig
Strength at the end, humility at the beginning, brilliance in between.

The March -  E.L. Doctorow
Master of the historical novel, Doctorow admitted making up Sherman's diary entries and letters to serve his own cinematic purposes. Good on him; it's his world, related to the truth, but deriving more truth from portraying human nature than from documents.

No Country for Old Men - Cormac Mccarthy
Begins with death in the heartland, and tracks death throughout. A brilliant, violent turn with no romanticism whatsoever for the heartland.

On the Road With Bob Dylan - Larry "Ratso" Sloman
Hilarious, rambling first-person account of Ratso's (successful) attempt to infiltrate Dylan's inner circle during the wild and brillant Rolling Thunder Revue.

Pennant Race - Jim Brosnan
Baseball in the 60s, all nicknames and tobacco juice and beer, written by a Reds pitcher.

A Piece of My Heart - Richard Ford
His first novel from the mid-80s about a violent episode in Mississippi hunting grounds - cinematic, spare, stark like a song off of Springsteen's Nebraska.

The Plot Against America - Phillip Roth
Alternative history imagined by Roth. A reach, but a brilliant, engrossing reach that succeeds - just barely - in the required suspension of disbelief.

Press Box: Red Smith's Favorite Sport Stories - Red Smith
Of Cobb and Rockne and Louis - you know this stuff, and you want more. Put in your commuter backpack and carry it for those dead moments when the subway gets stuck and you need some reading as sweet and smoothe as caramel.

Persuasion - Jane Austen
The one I hadn't read, but as tasty as a strawberry Fribble from Friendly's.

1759: The Year Britain Became Master of the World - Frank McLyn
I read this for the French and Indian Wars, but I hadn't understood the importance of this moment in every corner of the world until this book - a fascinating and serious read.

1776 - David McCullough
Washington, what a stud. Even when nothing went right.

To Rule the Waves: How the British Navy Shaped the Modern World - Arthur Herman
What stands out is the failures, even for the proudest navy in world history. Failures, piracy, loss of empire - but also the incredible cost in treasure, lives, and effort that went into creating the world's first and foremost mobile extender of power.

Where I Was From - Joan Didion
Years, she sadly rules the best-seller list but this one from a few years ago tells the story of California - which in turn tells us so much more. Engrossing, real, powerful.