Thursday, Oct. 21 -- Xanadu Day

Poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge was born on this day in 1772. He and his friend, William Wordsworth, began the Romantic movement in poetry, which soon came to popular fruition with Byron, Keats, and Shelley. Coleridge's poetry still penetrates popular culture with the expression "albatross around one's neck" (Rime of the Ancient Mariner) and the place-name Xanadu, from the poem Kubla Khan, which begins:

IN Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree:

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

In those days, every literate person knew how to parse poetry. As editor of the online poetry magazine StrongVerse.org, I constantly ask for poetry that scans and rhymes, but of the small minority who even attempt such once-common achievements, the barest handful can do it at all.

The music of those five lines -- not considered to be the remarkable feature of Coleridge's poem -- rings now like the echo of a long-forgotten song. I believe I was in the last generation that learned to scan and recite and even memorize poetry in school. To us, the childish sloppiness of rap is like a sad imitation of poetry, while most "poets" offer an unstructured, unmusical gush.

Parents of young children, celebrate Xanadu Day, not by taking drugs and writing extravagant speculative poetry, but rather by pulling out a book of Mother Goose or A Child's Garden of Verses and read them aloud to your children. Use your best sing-song voice, stressing the beats so they can learn to hear them.

With "Jack be nimble, Jack be quick / Jack jump over the candlestick" and "Mary, Mary, quite contrary, / how does your garden grow?" imprinted in their minds, your children will grow up able to hear the difference between well-crafted poems and utter slop.

Today in 1879, Thomas Edison demonstrated the first incandescent lightbulb that could be used economically for domestic purposes. This prototype, developed at his Menlo Park, NJ, laboratory, could burn for thirteen-and-a-half hours.

This sounds like a ridiculously short time to us, but remember that the incandescent bulb was a replacement for candles, which generally burned out in even less time, and gave off so little light that it would take dozens of them to light a room half as well as Edison's bulb.

In those ancient days, light bulbs were switched on only after dark, and only as long as they were needed. Though they were cheaper per lumen than candles, they were still expensive. Thus fathers throughout the world acquired the duty of switching off lights left burning in empty rooms, while making snide remarks to their wives and children.

Ursula K. LeGuin, author of the Earthsea Trilogy, turns 81 today. Before this famous and popular children's series, however, she had already wrought an important transformation on science fiction, where her early "Hainish novels" set the standard for using invented worlds and societies to illuminate our present world, without sacrificing even a dram of entertainment value. Most notable: The Left Hand of Darkness.

Friday, Oct. 22 -- Brinkmanship Day

This is the anniversary of the 1962 "Cuban Missile Crisis." President John F. Kennedy, in a nationwide television address on this date, demanded that the Russians remove their nuclear missiles from Cuba. To give teeth to his demand (because in those days Democrats had teeth) he imposed a naval "quarantine" to prevent future weaponry from reaching Cuba. (It was called a quarantine instead of a blockade because, by international law, a blockade is an act of war.)

On Oct. 28, the USSR announced it would remove the weapons in question. In return, the US removed missiles from Turkey that were aimed at the USSR.

The irony is that the entire mess was caused by Kennedy's macho but stupid decision, when he first took office, to rescind Eisenhower's order to remove the outmoded and strategically trivial missiles from Turkey. Since Turkey bordered on the USSR, the Russians figured that American provocation should be answered with Soviet missiles equally close to our borders.

In the dreamy-eyed view of historically-challenged liberals, Kennedy is regarded as a hero -- but all he did was tapdance his way out of a problem resulting from his own shortsightedness (rather like the whole incident with PT-109).

Today marks the grand opening in 1883 of the original New York Metropolitan Opera House, with a performance of Gounod's Faust. In those days, opera was still a popular entertainment rather than an artsy one; you attended in order to be moved, not impressed. (Though a certain percentage went to the opera merely to be seen, so that others would know they were Cultured, or at least Well-Dressed.)

Saturday, Oct. 23 -- Terrorist War Begins

On this day in 1983, a suicide terrorist drove a truck loaded with TNT through the thinly defended entrance of a U.S. Marine compound in Beirut, Lebanon, killing 240 American personnel serving in a "peacekeeping force."

Though we invariably call the bomber a "terrorist," it's worth pointing out that he attacked a military target, not a civilian one, which means it was not terrorism at all, but an act of war. Just because the explosives arrive in a truck rather than in a missile or artillery shell does not change the legal meaning of the act.

It is also worth remembering that this attack was a direct retaliation for the American Navy's shelling of a "terrorist-harboring neighborhood" in Beirut. In contrast with the bombing of the U.S. Marine barracks, our shelling was an attack on a mostly-civilian neighborhood. While our military's frustration with the terrorists' penchant for hiding in civilian neighborhoods was understandable, the best solution was probably not the indiscriminate slaughter of civilians from ships several miles off shore.

President Ronald Reagan was faced with a hard choice: retaliate and escalate; rationalize, legalize, and define the goals of the Lebanese "war"; or simply retreat. He chose retreat, and thus began to demonstrate the pattern of American weakness that Osama bin Laden would eventually count on when he declared his asymmetrical war against the greatest military power on earth.

When Reagan-worshipers absurdly give him credit for "causing" the end of Communism in Europe, I wish they would also remember that every decision he made concerning Muslim terrorists was dreadfully wrong. He rewarded hostage-taking with payoffs; he sold arms to terror-sponsoring Iran so he could, illegally and unconstitutionally, use the profits to fund the Contras in Nicaragua contrary to the law he himself had signed; he authorized the shelling of civilians in Beirut; and, having thus begun a war, he declared defeat and ran away following a single successful military operation by the enemy.

We reap today the reward of Reagan's mindless, erratic, and often unconscionable foreign policy. Far from being "strong," he was, in moral and practical terms, one of the worst Presidents ever in the realm of foreign policy and military action. Obama's foreign policy may turn out to be as bad, but from a rational historical perspective it would be hard, as yet, to justify calling it worse.

Johnny Carson was born today in 1925 in Corning, Iowa. A comedian and magician ("The Great Carsoni"), he worked on various radio and TV shows, most notably a starring gig on Who Do You Trust? He first appeared as a guest on The Tonight Show in 1953, and when Jack Paar resigned in 1962, Carson was named to replace him.

He remained on the show for more than 30 years, and along with sidekick Ed McMahon and bandleader Carl "Doc" Severinsen, brought the talk show form to its peak of quality and entertainment value. No one else has ever come close, before or since. Carson died in 2005, more than a decade after his retirement.

Sunday, Oct. 24 -- Mother-in-Law Day

When I grew up, "mother-in-law jokes" were a staple of comedians. Mothers-in-law got their bad reputation because of the actions of a few who try to control their children by driving wedges between them and their spouses. Most people I know, however, have a splendid relationship with the woman who raised their spouse.

Why not celebrate this day by writing a thank-you note to your mother-in-law for having brought up the person you love most in all the world? Even if you don't have the best relationship with her, such a card (or phone call) might go a long way toward improving things.

The bad behavior of some mothers-in-law is caused by fear of loss and loneliness. By letting various insults and offenses roll off your back and treating her with unfailing kindness ("A soft answer turns away wrath"), you can set an example to your own children of patience with and kindness to the older generation -- a lesson you will benefit from in later years.

And if you're a mother-in-law with a poor relationship with your child's spouse, perhaps you can celebrate this day by making a resolution to never say or imply any negative opinion of the person your child chose to marry. Except in cases of actual abuse, no one will ever thank you for doing anything but trying to help your children's marriages succeed.

World Origami Days begin today and continue to November 11^th. I can't help but wonder why the art of paper-folding needs nineteen days, and how these dates were chosen. Science fiction writing doesn't get any day at all. I'm miffed.

Monday, Oct. 25 -- Magic Week

International Magic Week celebrates the world of magic and the magicians who fake it. The climax of the week is October 31^st, the anniversary of Harry Houdini's death.

While spectacular effects are created by many big-name magicians, my favorite illusions and tricks are those performed close up by sleight-of-hand artists. My friend Gerry Argetsinger, an outstanding theatre director, professor, and translator of Danish plays, is also a wonderful magician and creator of stage effects. I have watched his work for years and never cease to be amazed at his skill and resourcefulness.

Remember, too, that while magicians must practice endlessly by themselves, they need to be able to test themselves in front of a sympathetic audience. If you're the parents of a child afflicted with the desire to do magic tricks, be patient and provide them with sympathetic attention. No matter how awful they are at first, they might get better. Think of it as another branch of theatre, a cure for shyness, a small-scale athletic event -- and remember that your child can still grow up to be a useful human being.

American writer Anne Tyler, one of the best novelists alive, turns 69 today. To sample her work, try my favorite, Back When We Were Grownups, or The Accidental Tourist, Breathing Lessons, Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant, or Noah's Compass. You'll find her characters frustrating to the point of tragedy -- but also noble. Indeed, I think Tyler succeeds in doing what Arthur Miller attempted but failed to do with Death of a Salesman: Make tragic heroes out of ordinary people.

Tuesday, Oct. 26 -- Mule Day

This is the anniversary of the first importation of Spanish jacks to the US, a gift from King Charles III of Spain. Mules, which cannot reproduce directly, are created by the mating of a donkey with a horse, and are said to have been bred first in this country by George Washington, from this pair of jacks delivered at Boston, Oct. 26, 1785.

Celebrate Mule Day by being kind to, and speaking well of, people you know who work hard, bear heavy burdens, but stubbornly refuse to obey stupid orders. Even if the stupid orders come from you.

The Erie Canal opened on this day in 1825, providing a water route from Lake Erie to the Hudson River. These days we forget how transformative canals were, even more in Europe than in America. Roads were hard to build in those days and hard to maintain in good order, whereas the water in canals provided a low-friction, always-level pathway for steam-powered, rowed, or horse-drawn barges. (The horses walked along paths beside the canals, pulling tow-ropes.)

Construction on the Erie Canal started July 4, 1816, and the canal cost $7,602,000 -- a massive expense in that era. But it was worth every penny. Until railroads were built to supplant it, the Erie Canal was the primary means for goods from the midwest to reach the port of New York and the eastern seaboard of the United States. It made the American midwest an economic powerhouse instead of a backwater, and cemented New York City's role as the most important port in the country.

Hillary Rodham Clinton turns 63 today. If you don't believe she's thinking about challenging Obama for the 2012 Democratic nomination for President, you're crazy.

Wednesday, Oct. 27 -- Subway Day

The first New York City subway line, running from City Hall to West 145^th Street, began operation today in 1904. It was privately operated by the Interborough Rapid Transit Company and later became part of the system operated by the New York City Transit Authority.

(Actually, a one-block-long subway "line" was created as a proof-of-concept demo by subway pioneer Alfred Ely Beach in 1870. See http://sn.im/firstsubway .)

Because Manhattan is a high rocky island, an underground railway made sense, putting the noise and crowding of trains and stations out of sight, and using up almost no surface real estate.

In other cities, with higher water tables, subways are simply impossible, and instead urban railways depend on surface trolleys or elevated railways, which either chew up expensive real estate and interfere with road traffic, or cast shadows and spread noise over a wide area.

Because New York has a subway system, it has been able to grow vertically, cramming more and more people into a relatively small island without choking its transportation system. If you live and work in New York, there's simply no reason to own a car.

Contrast this with Los Angeles or Greensboro, where almost everyone -- even the poorest -- has to have a car in order to hold a job or go shopping, and you can see how much impact a far-reaching subway system has on the quality of life.

The first of the 85 essays commonly called The Federalist Papers appeared in print in a New York City newspaper on Oct. 27, 1787. Written by Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay, these papers argued in favor of adoption of the new American Constitution, which provided for a strong federal government to unify the newly independent American states. The last of the essays was complete on April 4, 1788.

While Madison's contribution was important, Alexander Hamilton wrote most of the essays and was the driving spirit behind them. Since Hamilton also invented our financial system and got America out of debt, and was the single most important influence on policy during Washington's time as President, one can argue that if Hamilton isn't the father of our country, he's at least America's wise and generous uncle.

Theodore Roosevelt, born on this day in 1858, became the 26^th President of the United States when, as Vice President, he succeeded to the presidency on the death of William McKinley. He was later elected to a term of his own, so he served from Sept. 14, 1901 to March 3, 1909.

He was the first president to ride in an automobile (1902), submerge in a submarine (1905), and fly in an airplane (1910). A Republican, he was America's most liberal president since Lincoln, doing much to break the economic stranglehold of trusts and monopolies.

Ironically, when his hand-picked successor, Taft, proved too conservative for Roosevelt, he mounted a third-party campaign that led to the election of racist Democrat Woodrow Wilson in 1912, who ended the federal government's hiring of African-Americans for government jobs in the South -- the last nail in the coffin of black civil rights, ushering in the long dark night of Jim Crow.

Welsh poet Dylan Thomas was born on this day in 1914; he died in 1953. His best-known poem begins:

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

It is one of the best poems ever written in English, and its best public performance ever was given by Rodney Dangerfield in Back to School in 1986 (a wonderful comedy that, ironically, gets no respect).

The poem ends:

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.