Mark Darrah's Blog - Posts Tagged "mark-darrah"
A Catalogue of Common People Now Available for the Nook, Kindle, and Kobo
I may be a simpleton, but it still amazes me I can tap a few keys on my Kindle (or my laptop with the Nook and Kobo apps) and in a matter of seconds, a book appears. It's even more amazing when I realize it's a book I've written.
A Catalogue of Common People, a collection of personal essays and commentaries, is now available for downloading on Kindle, Nook, and Kobo. My publisher says it will be at iTunes soon. The price is $4.99.
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Catalogue-Commo...
Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-cat...
Kobo: http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/A-Cata...
Did you know you can give an ebook just like you can do a paperback?
My best to you,
Mark Darrah
Author of A Catalogue of Common People
October 22, 2015
A Catalogue of Common People, a collection of personal essays and commentaries, is now available for downloading on Kindle, Nook, and Kobo. My publisher says it will be at iTunes soon. The price is $4.99.
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Catalogue-Commo...
Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-cat...
Kobo: http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/A-Cata...
Did you know you can give an ebook just like you can do a paperback?
My best to you,
Mark Darrah
Author of A Catalogue of Common People
October 22, 2015
Barbara Kingsolver Loves My Hometown
Heaven is Tahlequah.
When I heard Barbara Kingsolver say this during a radio interview, I almost drove my car off the road. As she spoke, she reminded me of all the things I grew to love when my family moved to the Capital of the Cherokee Nation: the beauty of the Ozarks, vivid spring days, the vibrant scents of the woods on summer nights. Most of all, I came treasure the potpourri of people, their commitment to our community, to each other, to strangers. We lived an unspoken commitment to democracy and participation of all regardless of economic status.
It's been years since I've lived in Tahlequah, and memory provides its own rose colored glasses. My family had lived in six very different Oklahoma communities by the time we moved to Tahlequah when I was in high school, but when I got here, I knew I had found home.
Next weekend, I'm going back for a book signing and open house at the Purdy Cabin Guest Retreat on the scenic Illinois River. If you've read or seen Where the Red Fern Grows, you'll be near where the book was set and the 1974 movie filmed. When you visit, you'll get to experience the heaven of Barbara Kingsolver's Pigs in Heaven.
The colors of autumn make it the most amazing season in Tahlequah. I hope you can join Beth Cohenour, the kind hostess and proprietor of the Purdy Cabin, and me on November 14, 2015 at 10:00 am. Copies of A Catalogue of Common People will be available for purchase.
Purdy Cabin Guest Retreat: https://www.facebook.com/purdycabin/
From The Tahlequah Daily Press: http://www.tahlequahdailypress.com/co...
Follow the map found here: http://www.purdycabin.com/map.html
I look forward to seeing you.
Mark Darrah
When I heard Barbara Kingsolver say this during a radio interview, I almost drove my car off the road. As she spoke, she reminded me of all the things I grew to love when my family moved to the Capital of the Cherokee Nation: the beauty of the Ozarks, vivid spring days, the vibrant scents of the woods on summer nights. Most of all, I came treasure the potpourri of people, their commitment to our community, to each other, to strangers. We lived an unspoken commitment to democracy and participation of all regardless of economic status.
It's been years since I've lived in Tahlequah, and memory provides its own rose colored glasses. My family had lived in six very different Oklahoma communities by the time we moved to Tahlequah when I was in high school, but when I got here, I knew I had found home.
Next weekend, I'm going back for a book signing and open house at the Purdy Cabin Guest Retreat on the scenic Illinois River. If you've read or seen Where the Red Fern Grows, you'll be near where the book was set and the 1974 movie filmed. When you visit, you'll get to experience the heaven of Barbara Kingsolver's Pigs in Heaven.
The colors of autumn make it the most amazing season in Tahlequah. I hope you can join Beth Cohenour, the kind hostess and proprietor of the Purdy Cabin, and me on November 14, 2015 at 10:00 am. Copies of A Catalogue of Common People will be available for purchase.
Purdy Cabin Guest Retreat: https://www.facebook.com/purdycabin/
From The Tahlequah Daily Press: http://www.tahlequahdailypress.com/co...
Follow the map found here: http://www.purdycabin.com/map.html
I look forward to seeing you.
Mark Darrah
Don't Give Your Wife a Leaf Blower for Christmas
When I turn my yard into a Zen garden, I will do yard work but not until then.
I don't own a lawn mower and have never mowed the grass at my house despite many years of residence here. One autumn, I raked and bagged one hundred and twenty-five thirty-three gallon black bags of leaves. That was one time and I haven't done any yard work since.
I'm not lazy, but lawn care was a major pastime in two soulless suburban neighborhoods in which I lived growing up. While it is not this way for many people, yard work feels compulsively soulless to me.
"Hon, we ought to get a leaf blower," my wife said to me one fall.
My wife knew my history when she made this statement. She, though, tends to our little gardens and oversees those who actually cut the grass and edge the sidewalks.
I concluded my wife meant she wanted a leaf blower, that "we ought" meant "I want."
Her birthday approached. I was so happy. I knew what I was going to get for her -- a leaf blower. Without her knowing, I went to the Sears down the street and bought a lightweight Kenmore leaf blower. The box was too big to wrap so I covered it in a quilt and put it out for her several days before her big day.
She was curious, very curious. If truth be known, I think she was a little excited, too.
Her birthday arrived. The celebration began. My wife pushed away the quilt. You should have seen the look on my wife's face.
Guess who didn't want a leaf blower for her birthday?
I still don't know why she said we ought to get a leaf blower when she obviously didn't want one. She's never used the device, and it hangs virtually unused on a hook in our garage. I did learn a lesson, though.
If you think your wife wants a leaf blower for Christmas, don't buy her one. Consider getting her a copy of A Catalogue of Common People, a collection of collection of essays and commentaries, instead. Readers of all ages seem to like these stories.
Your wife will think you given her a thoughtful gift.
She doesn't need to know you even considered giving her a leaf blower.
Good luck shopping,
Mark Darrah
Author of A Catalogue of Common
People
November 28, 2015
I don't own a lawn mower and have never mowed the grass at my house despite many years of residence here. One autumn, I raked and bagged one hundred and twenty-five thirty-three gallon black bags of leaves. That was one time and I haven't done any yard work since.
I'm not lazy, but lawn care was a major pastime in two soulless suburban neighborhoods in which I lived growing up. While it is not this way for many people, yard work feels compulsively soulless to me.
"Hon, we ought to get a leaf blower," my wife said to me one fall.
My wife knew my history when she made this statement. She, though, tends to our little gardens and oversees those who actually cut the grass and edge the sidewalks.
I concluded my wife meant she wanted a leaf blower, that "we ought" meant "I want."
Her birthday approached. I was so happy. I knew what I was going to get for her -- a leaf blower. Without her knowing, I went to the Sears down the street and bought a lightweight Kenmore leaf blower. The box was too big to wrap so I covered it in a quilt and put it out for her several days before her big day.
She was curious, very curious. If truth be known, I think she was a little excited, too.
Her birthday arrived. The celebration began. My wife pushed away the quilt. You should have seen the look on my wife's face.
Guess who didn't want a leaf blower for her birthday?
I still don't know why she said we ought to get a leaf blower when she obviously didn't want one. She's never used the device, and it hangs virtually unused on a hook in our garage. I did learn a lesson, though.
If you think your wife wants a leaf blower for Christmas, don't buy her one. Consider getting her a copy of A Catalogue of Common People, a collection of collection of essays and commentaries, instead. Readers of all ages seem to like these stories.
Your wife will think you given her a thoughtful gift.
She doesn't need to know you even considered giving her a leaf blower.
Good luck shopping,
Mark Darrah
Author of A Catalogue of Common
People
November 28, 2015
The Navy Blazer
In 1975, John T. Molloy wrote Dress for Success which advised men how to choose and wear clothes to succeed in their chosen professions and in the corporate world. A book for women followed two years later. Both became best-sellers. When law students started thinking about interviewing for jobs, they read the results of Molloy's studies and followed his suggestions.
When I graduated from law school in 1982, I bought a gray pinstripe suit, a dark blue suit, and a navy blazer with two sets of trousers. I owned an Ivy League tie and several silk ones -- some striped, others conservatively patterned. Mr. Molloy would have approved.
I looked like most other young male attorneys of the day.
The insurance defense law firm where I worked represented a major insulation manufacturer in asbestos litigation in all courts sitting in Oklahoma. Asbestos, that platypus of the mineral world, is a stone but is fibrous like a plant. Durable and resistant to fire and heat, asbestos proved to be a versatile building material, most commonly used as fireproof insulation. In the post-World War II construction boom, the use of asbestos became ubiquitous.
Asbestos turned out to be far less than ideal. It is toxic. Prolonged exposure to its micro-particles can lead to asbestosis, mesothelioma, and lung cancer. Tiny fibers lodge in one's lungs and trigger a chronic inflammatory process that often results in chronic obstructive lung disease, cancer, and death. Years pass before symptoms develop. By the early 1980's, vast numbers of those involved in the building trades had become ill or died.
Mass tort claims were not consolidated for discovery or trial then as they are now. Each party claiming injury or death separately sued the ten or twelve major producers of asbestos and related products. One defense attorney would take a sworn statement -- a deposition -- from each injured party. Young associate lawyers attended for the other defendants and asked few questions. It seemed like everyone had an asbestos claim, and the hard-edged skepticism that well serves attorneys often descended into dark cynicism.
One early summer afternoon, I gathered with other lawyers for the deposition of an asbestos widow in the conference room of an Oklahoma City attorney. Mrs. Jones was in her mid-fifties and had the ash blond hair of a Breck model. Except for the court reporter, she was the only female in the room. The lead defense counsel began his bloodless inquiry. I looked around and realized every attorney there wore a navy blazer or had one hanging on the coat rack in the corner.
Tears began to roll down Mrs. Jones' face when asked the date of her marriage to her late husband. More tears fell when questioned about his children. When asked the date of his death, Mrs. Jones wept with the heartbreak of only those who have truly loved.
The lead attorney stopped his rote questions and took a break. Not one of us gathered lawyers showed this woman any compassion. Not one. When the deposition concluded, I found my navy blazer among the others on the coat rack and drove back to Tulsa.
That jacket was put on a few more times and then set aside.
I haven't worn a navy blazer since.
Mark Darrah
May 21, 2016
Originally published "The Oklahoma Bar Journal" Vol. 87, No. 14 http://www.okbar.org/members/BarJourn...
When I graduated from law school in 1982, I bought a gray pinstripe suit, a dark blue suit, and a navy blazer with two sets of trousers. I owned an Ivy League tie and several silk ones -- some striped, others conservatively patterned. Mr. Molloy would have approved.
I looked like most other young male attorneys of the day.
The insurance defense law firm where I worked represented a major insulation manufacturer in asbestos litigation in all courts sitting in Oklahoma. Asbestos, that platypus of the mineral world, is a stone but is fibrous like a plant. Durable and resistant to fire and heat, asbestos proved to be a versatile building material, most commonly used as fireproof insulation. In the post-World War II construction boom, the use of asbestos became ubiquitous.
Asbestos turned out to be far less than ideal. It is toxic. Prolonged exposure to its micro-particles can lead to asbestosis, mesothelioma, and lung cancer. Tiny fibers lodge in one's lungs and trigger a chronic inflammatory process that often results in chronic obstructive lung disease, cancer, and death. Years pass before symptoms develop. By the early 1980's, vast numbers of those involved in the building trades had become ill or died.
Mass tort claims were not consolidated for discovery or trial then as they are now. Each party claiming injury or death separately sued the ten or twelve major producers of asbestos and related products. One defense attorney would take a sworn statement -- a deposition -- from each injured party. Young associate lawyers attended for the other defendants and asked few questions. It seemed like everyone had an asbestos claim, and the hard-edged skepticism that well serves attorneys often descended into dark cynicism.
One early summer afternoon, I gathered with other lawyers for the deposition of an asbestos widow in the conference room of an Oklahoma City attorney. Mrs. Jones was in her mid-fifties and had the ash blond hair of a Breck model. Except for the court reporter, she was the only female in the room. The lead defense counsel began his bloodless inquiry. I looked around and realized every attorney there wore a navy blazer or had one hanging on the coat rack in the corner.
Tears began to roll down Mrs. Jones' face when asked the date of her marriage to her late husband. More tears fell when questioned about his children. When asked the date of his death, Mrs. Jones wept with the heartbreak of only those who have truly loved.
The lead attorney stopped his rote questions and took a break. Not one of us gathered lawyers showed this woman any compassion. Not one. When the deposition concluded, I found my navy blazer among the others on the coat rack and drove back to Tulsa.
That jacket was put on a few more times and then set aside.
I haven't worn a navy blazer since.
Mark Darrah
May 21, 2016
Originally published "The Oklahoma Bar Journal" Vol. 87, No. 14 http://www.okbar.org/members/BarJourn...
A Bookstore Worthy of Home
Writer and friend Teresa Miller calls Tahlequah "the Athens of Northeastern Oklahoma." My hometown was the inspiration for Barbara Kingsolver's Heaven books. And, of course, David Letterman's home office was Tahlequah.
Tahlequah rests in the woods near the banks of the Illinois River in the Cookson Hills, a junior version of the Ozark Mountains. Red brick buildings barely poke above the tree line and homes built in the Victorian era aren't rare.
The town has gotten bigger in recent years. Wal-Mark #10 is now a Supercenter, and franchised and chain stores line the main roads into town. At night, one notices the pine scents of the forest.
Descendants remain of those forced to these parts by the Trail of Tears exodus in the 1830's. Back up in the hills, Cherokee is spoken by some as a first language. The Cherokee National Capital is in near by Park Hill. A lot of old hippies and nonconformists live here as do entrepreneurs and retirees. People work the land and raise cattle.
Northeastern Oklahoma State University has graduated generations of the best educators in the region. Inquiry, curiosity, and learning are shared values.
Tahlequah now has a bookstore that is worthy of its location. Too Fond of Books opened on North Muskogee in downtown Tahlequah three years ago by Tom Jefferson and Valerie Reese. https://www.tfobooks.com/about-us It carries a wide variety of titles including best sellers and recently published works. It's a colorful store with a friendly staff and helpful staff. It represents the best qualities of its community.
I'm honored my book, A Catalogue of Common People, is available here.
Mark Darrah
May 11, 2024
Tahlequah rests in the woods near the banks of the Illinois River in the Cookson Hills, a junior version of the Ozark Mountains. Red brick buildings barely poke above the tree line and homes built in the Victorian era aren't rare.
The town has gotten bigger in recent years. Wal-Mark #10 is now a Supercenter, and franchised and chain stores line the main roads into town. At night, one notices the pine scents of the forest.
Descendants remain of those forced to these parts by the Trail of Tears exodus in the 1830's. Back up in the hills, Cherokee is spoken by some as a first language. The Cherokee National Capital is in near by Park Hill. A lot of old hippies and nonconformists live here as do entrepreneurs and retirees. People work the land and raise cattle.
Northeastern Oklahoma State University has graduated generations of the best educators in the region. Inquiry, curiosity, and learning are shared values.
Tahlequah now has a bookstore that is worthy of its location. Too Fond of Books opened on North Muskogee in downtown Tahlequah three years ago by Tom Jefferson and Valerie Reese. https://www.tfobooks.com/about-us It carries a wide variety of titles including best sellers and recently published works. It's a colorful store with a friendly staff and helpful staff. It represents the best qualities of its community.
I'm honored my book, A Catalogue of Common People, is available here.
Mark Darrah
May 11, 2024
