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*Wednesday, Sep. 21, 2016*
*My Mother Was a Brilliant Cook*
by Maria Mazziotti Gillan
The first time my mother went out
to eat was on her 25th wedding anniversary
at Scordato’s in Paterson, and the second time
was for her 50th anniversary
at the Iron Kettle House in Wyckoff.
My mother said, “I could have cooked
this meal better myself.”
But I knew she was happy,
though she would have never admitted it.
Once my mother came to Paterson
from Italy in steerage,
she was content to stay there.
She was a brilliant cook,
and didn’t need to go to restaurants.
She loved her house, poor as it was,
and never stayed in a motel or took a vacation
or wanted to.
She was content to offer platter after platter
of food to her family gathered
in her basement kitchen, and to watch them
laughing and talking together,
while she stood behind them
"My Mother Was a Brilliant Cook"
*Today is the birthday* of *Girolamo Savonarola* (books by this author),
born in Ferrara, Italy (1452). When he was 22, he left off studying
medicine to join an order of Dominican monks, and he developed a reputation
for his prophetic preaching. He settled in Florence in 1490, where he
became the scourge of the Medici family, who were then in power.
Savonarola's speeches against tyranny made him popular with the people, and
the rule of the Medicis came to an end not long after the death of their
leader, Lorenzo. Savonarola soon filled the void, setting up a republic and
continuing to preach against the corruption of the Catholic Church.
As the head of the Church, the notoriously corrupt Pope Alexander VI was
displeased by Savonarola's influence. Alexander tried first to trap him by
luring him to Rome, but Savonarola saw through the scheme and refused,
claiming illness. The pontiff threatened him with excommunication, and then
tempted him with a Cardinalship, to which the reformer replied, "A red hat?
I want a hat of blood." Eventually, he got his wish: in 1498, he was
arrested, tortured, and executed by hanging and then burning. His ashes
were scattered in the Arno River.
*Today is the birthday* of *H.G. Wells**The Invisible Man* (1897), and *The
War of the Worlds* (1898). He lived until he was 79-much longer than he
expected to-and he continued to produce books at a rate of two or three a
year for the rest of his life; in the end, he'd published more than a
H.G. Wells said, "Every time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer
despair for the future of the human race."
*It's the birthday* of Canadian singer-songwriter, poet, and novelist *Leonard
Cohen* (books by this author), born in Montreal (1934). He started out as a
poet, publishing a few well-received volumes in the 1950s and '60s,
including *Let Us Compare Mythologies* (1956) and *The Spice-Box of
He also wrote a couple of novels:*The Favourite Game* (1963) and *Beautiful
Losers* (1966). But he was disappointed that writing didn't pay better, so
he moved to the United States to become a folk singer and songwriter. He
wasn't happy with the arrangements on his first album, *Songs of Leonard
Cohen* (1967), but it became a cult favorite. His 1984 album, *Various
Positions*, included one of his most popular songs, "Hallelujah." It's been
covered by nearly 200 other singers in a variety of languages.
*It's the birthday* of horror writer *Stephen King* (books by this author),
born in Portland, Maine, on this date in 1947. When he was 10, he was at
the local theater watching a matinee of *Earth vs. the Flying Saucers*, and
the manager interrupted the film to announce that the Soviet Union had
launched Sputnik. Stephen King says that for the first time, he saw "a
useful connection between the world of fantasy and that of what *My Weekly
Reader* used to call Current Events." He decided that the main purpose of
horror was "its ability to form a liaison between our fantasy fears and our
real fears." After coming upon an H.P. Lovecraft paperback in the attic, he
decided to write horror stories himself.
Eventually, he took a job teaching high school, and that inspired him to
write about a troubled and telekinetic teenage girl. But he decided his
story was worthless and threw it out. His wife, Tabitha, took it out of the
trash, read it, and thought it was promising. She told him to keep writing,
so he did, and *Carrie* was published (1974). It didn't get great reviews,
but it went on to sell more than 4 million copies.
*Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.®*
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