ON ALPHABETIZING ONE'S LIFE

Dear George, 

 When I turned 61 I decided it was time to write a memoir to pass along to the younger generation. The task, however, proved overwhelming. There was so much stuff. I didn’t know where to start, what to include, how to organize it. I got dizzy just thinking about it, and I didn’t complete a single word.. Then I was in the thrift store one day and I ran across a battered old dictionary with tons of illustrations in it. It was a eureka moment. I could use the illustrated items in the dictionary to write a memoir in alphabetical order, adding a personal anecdote with the picture and definition for each dictionary item. This still proved to be a big task, but selecting and organizing content became much easier. I finished half the alphabet back then and set it aside, but recently I decided I should complete the task. Here are selected entries for the letter A to give you a sense of what an alphabetical memoir looks like (though I haven’t included the illustrations here). The first half took three years. I hope to be quicker (and around) for the second half. 

 Love, 

Dave 

Abreast.  Walking or marching side by side. When my dad was scoutmaster of our troop, he recruited a former army drill sergeant to train us for three months to march in Menominee’s annual Memorial Day parade. While my father was sure that the rigorous discipline would have wholesome effects upon his attention-deficit charges, we scouts were less enthusiastic and grumbled a lot among ourselves. 

Addams, Jane.  A graduate of Rockford (Ill.) Seminary, Jane Addams was an American social worker who founded Hull House in Chicago. After working for years as an adjunct French instructor, my wife Katja followed her sister’s advice and completed her MSW at the university, then taking a full-time social work position at the Cincinnati Association for the Blind. She and her classmate Terry joked that they were cut out to be social workers for the wealthy. Katja was particularly successful in working with seniors, one of whom proclaimed, “I never knew it was so much fun to be blind.” 

Airplane Hostess.  Airplane hostesses render a variety of personal services to passengers of an airliner in order to make their trip as pleasant as possible. On one of Katja’s and my flights to Green Bay on North Central Airlines, she had a head cold and complained of pain in her ears. The hostess returned a few minutes later, asked if she felt better, and explained that the pilot had lowered the plane by 10,000 feet. 

Alaskan malamute.  The oldest known Alaskan breed originally bred by an Alaskan tribe known as Mahlemute and often crossed with the wolf. After graduating from college, our son J moved to San Francisco for the summer. When visiting an acquaintance and trying to pet his hybrid dog-wolf, the creature slashed J’s right eyelid in two. At the emergency room he was so impressed with his experience that he decided to become a doctor. Despite his father’ voiced skepticism, J persisted and carried out his dream. 

American literature.  Originating in the 17th century as a branch of English literature, American literature has become one of the most exciting national literatures the world has known. When I discovered in my freshman year of college that I was ill-suited to be an Engineering major, I switched to Literature, but then, when my lit professor explained that this was a gravely under-rewarded career choice, I followed his advice and switched once more to Psychology. 

Amoeba.  Any of a genus of unicellular, naked protozoans found in stagnant water. As a freshman biology student I bred amoeba and other protozoa in a dozen or so Mason jars filled with swamp water and yeast. Unfortunately my roommate became offended by the increasing swamp odor in our room and insisted that I move my collection to the fire escape. When I came out to check one day, they had mysteriously disappeared. 

Anchovy.  A small fish resembling herring in appearance, possessing very rich pungent flavor. One of the various conflicts Katja and I coped with in our early courtship was her strong preference for anchovies on the pizzas we ate at Com’s Hilltop Tavern. 

Animal intelligence.  The capacity of animals for learning new behaviors, memory, and other forms of adaptive behavior. Our sheepdogs Mike and Duffy pretty much failed every task set for them at dog obedience school, though everyone admired their cuteness and funny antics. We decided that sheepdogs are too intelligent to be engaged with the boring tasks of dog school. 

Antioch College.  Yellow Springs, Ohio; founded in 1853; about 600 students. An Antioch alumnus interested my parents in the college, but he became annoyed with my mother’s obsession with Greek houses and formal balls and sarcastically said that a tuxedo was an absolute must for Antioch students. When admitted, I managed to convince my mother that I should check out the campus before they buy me a tuxedo. 

Aquarium.  A vessel constructed of glass and containing fresh or salt water in which freshwater animals are kept. When Katja and I went on a weeklong trip, we asked our elderly upstairs neighbors if they would keep and take care of our aquarium. Though speaking little English and initially reluctant, they finally agreed. Unfortunately the air hose stopped working, and all the fish died. Our neighbors kept the little bodies in their freezer, riddled with guilt and not knowing what we might want to do. 

Armor.  Covering worn to protect the body against weapons; any defensive or protective covering. In grad school I participated in one of the professor’s pre-testing of a new projective measure of defense mechanisms he was developing. Later he took me aside and said I was the most defensive subject he had ever encountered. While he cautioned me about the negative effects of prolonged total inhibition, I’ve only experienced positive effects to date. 

Atomic bomb.  The atomic bomb, or more accurately the Nuclear Fission Bomb, relies upon a fast chain reaction in a sample of relatively pure uranium and produces an explosion greater than 40,000 tons of TNT. In the mid-1950’s when fears of a nuclear holocaust were reaching their peak, my father, my uncle Ralph, and my grandfather decided to build a nuclear fallout shelter in a small room in the basement of our family drugstore. There was a lengthy discussion of whether to stock it with guns to prevent neighbors from trying to break in, but they finally decided not to do so.