Tickling Catfish

In his art of telling stories, Craven balances timing, rhythm, style, and content. His style is at once elegant and simple, a mixture of up-tempo phrasing and brief story lines that flow naturally to one of three conclusions: punchline, moral, or wish. The stories share observations on customs, language, home, and human nature and serve as a hedge against parochialism, even when focusing on snipe hunts, armadillo grabs, and hog boxing.

Whether sprawled on barstools or preaching from pulpits, people need to make sense of their world, and in Jim Sanderson's world of West Texas, pulpits and barstools are where many of them do so. Sanderson himself stood for many years at a podium, teaching at a community college in Odessa, Texas. There, tired of academic papers and sometimes losing the distinction between fiction and nonfiction, he turned to the world around him to figure out the meaning (or meanings) of education and of culture itself. In a series of autobiographical ruminations, Sanderson develops the theme that frontier wildness is still alive, especially in West Texas, though it may be repressed by fundamentalist religion and conservative politics. West Texans, he finds, have to reconcile the two sides of their contrary natures: the farmer, best represented by the fundamental church, and the frontiersman, best represented by the sleazy bar. Through this theme of internal conflict, Sanderson weaves his experiences of art and censorship, Texas myths in film and fiction, the interaction of Hispanic culture with the culture of West Texas, contradictions posed by academic interests in vocational teaching institutions, intellectual elitism versus the real world, and West Texas women's definition and self-definition. Through the examples of his students, he shows how the quest for the West Texas myth--freedom, liberation, and fulfillment--is always transforming, whether for good or bad. In the end, he recognizes that his insights may tell more about himself than about West Texas, but by trying to make meaning out of his experience, he tells us something about the way all of us learn and think about ourselves.

Speaking Tomorrow’s Truth to Power Sustainability is going mainstream—but where did the story start? For decades, the traditional capitalist business model required growth at all costs. Business-as-usual guaranteed unsustainability. Now, in contrast, we see growing adoption of greener practices, but where did these ideas come from—and where are the linked movements headed? Drawing on a half century of experience since the early seventies, “Godfather of Sustainability” John Elkington explains how a series of societal pressure waves have helped to transform business, markets, and, ultimately, capitalism. He explains how he came to “tickle” the human sharks of the corporate world, encouraging them to embrace once-unthinkable ways of addressing new social, economic, environmental, and governance priorities. John’s candid memoir tracks his colorful journey through youthful misadventures and inspirations to his pioneering work making business sense of sustainability. Written in a knowledgeable, thoughtful, and humorous voice, this witness statement explains—and criticizes—progress to date before sketching a manifesto for those determined to make the global economy more responsible, more resilient, and, crucially, more regenerative.

Although the boy in this book is me, this book is not a true autobiography. It is, instead, a book celebrating nature and a young boy's discoveries in the natural world surrounding him. All the adventures and discoveries described herein happened during a relatively short span of time; the late forties and early fifties of the last century. That last sentence makes this sound like ancient history, doesn't it? Don't worry. The small adventures described within its pages can still be experienced by young people today, if they are open to them. The first chapter briefly describes our family's life of poverty but this and the following chapter mapping out the territory where my adventures took place, are not the main theme of the book. Its theme should be thought of as the natural history of an area in Maine that does not exist today; The Cove, but when it did, was an inspiration to me when I desperately needed it. I hope that instead of getting a depressing "Oh-pity-me" experience from reading my words, you will instead share the joy of discovering the world of nature up close and personal, so to speak, as I did in spite of the obstacles in my way. So, as Tom Hennessey so beautifully said in the foreword, follow my "trail of words" and I'll try to put you in my shoes so you can follow me as I recount my life changing small adventures while growing up along the Penobscot River in the State of Maine. My father first introduced me to fishing by taking me with him one day to a little trout brook in Levant, Maine. His fishing gear was primitive; a pole cut on the spot with a length of line tied to its tip; then a single hook tied to the line and baited with a single earthworm, but it did the intended job. He caught trout that day and in doing so, that little experience changed my life. It introduced me to a natural world I never imagined existed beyond my doors and my back yard. I could never again see a stretch of water without wondering what mysteries lay beneath its surface. I later caught fish with more sophisticated gear and sometimes with even most primitive gear than my father's as I describe in some of these chapters. Poverty can drag you down and even kill you if you let it, but it can also be the greatest learning experience of your life if you let it. If you are inspired enough, you learn to make do with what's at hand if you don't have what you need to do the job "properly." A piece of wire could become a fish hook; a broom handle and a nail could become a fish spear; a snippet of fur from your pet skunk could become a fishing fly, and (under the right conditions) a large flat rock could magically transport you through the sky. I learned how to build rafts that float and a raft that sank. I built a boat from some very ordinary materials I scavenged from around the house and the neighborhood. But, as they say, the best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray. It took longer for me to build that boat than for it to sink. I learned a cold, wet lesson one dark night when I discovered the difference between a sucker and a salmon. I learned that some fish can actually eat a fish larger than itself. I learned the places where the different species of fish preferred to hang out and what they fed on. I learned how to catch fish that were only a couple of inches long to others that were more than three feet long; all from the same area. Immersing yourself in the natural world brings you in contact with its many creatures. Some of them became my pets. White Footed Mice, Muskrats, a crow, a skunk, and even a one-eyed seagull and other creatures came to the Simpson house on North Main Street. Some stayed for a while but others did not. I learned things from all of them, though. There's an old saying that beggars can't be choosers. However, beggars (poor folks) can be opportunists. We ate the fish we caught and the deer we shot, but when my brother and I discovered the town dump across the river in Veazie

Sequel to: Zebra crossings: tales from the shaman's record.

Shy, charming, peculiar, and web-toed, Alice Riley has suffered for years at the hands of her dead mother's self-righteous family, while she hides a bevy of secret abilities. When Alice rescues a drowning child, her amazing talents are exposed. Alice can remain underwater for extraordinary periods of time, and she can locate submerged objects through some type of natural sonar ability. Her new fame/notoriety puts Alice in the national news, amidst allegations that she has somehow faked or manipulated the rescue for her own glory. Alice is trapped and desperate until three amazing older women arrive in her hometown. They are the regal and flamboyant Bonavendier sisters--dignified Lilith, acerbic Mara, and whimsical Pearl--of Sainte's Point Island, their ancestral home off the coast of Georgia. They've read Alice's story in the news and are convinced that she is their long-lost (and much younger) half sister, conceived in a reckless seduction their elderly father confessed to before he died. Like Alice, the Bonavendier sisters have webbed toes and certain amazing abilities, though none of them have Alice's marked talent for finding things underwater. Alice is no oddity to them. They explain that--like them--she is descended from a mermaid.