Author: Jane Greer (Jane Greer)

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Save the Children

Suddenly, we may receive a son—a six-year-old, our first child—and we may get him in weeks. My small worries grow immense. Some background on one of them: My husband and I have what has been called a “mixed marriage” (sort of a hot dish, like franks and beans). He is firmly Catholic; I, by upbringing,...

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Will They Still Love Us Tomorrow?

L. and M. and their two blond preschool sons have escaped, after years of stealthy planning and saving and months of waiting. Not the gaunt East European urchins we expect, they step off the plane as if from the pages of Family Circle, self-conscious in our applause, the little boys in Velcro sneakers, M. movie-star...

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Price Supports & Poetic Justice

Next winter it’s Phoenix or Honolulu for me, courtesy of the Writers’ Set-Aside payment I’ll be getting from my Uncle Sam. The program—a brilliant idea, if you ask me—started with farmers, of course, getting paid to let certain fields lie fallow or to give up certain crops for a time because the market couldn’t support...

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Snow Job

Around here, folks are awfully worried. It’s strange, though—we’re not worried about what the nightly news says we’re worried about. Contrary to (seemingly) popular opinion, we don’t spend every waking moment in a nuclear catatonia. Our children—at least the children I know—don’t have nightmares of “the fire next time.” They don’t even think about nuclear...

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The Bismarck Bypass

In their own quiet way, arts activities are as vigorous in the Midwest as anywhere else, a fact that few seem to realize—including Midwesterners. A year ago I was privileged to escort an emigre lecturer around my state for a week. At one evening’s talk he impetuously introduced me as “not one of your long-haired...

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Letter From the Heartland

Some of us come later in life than others to . . . well, to adulthood. I was nearly in my 30’s before I had even an inkling of the realities of civic responsibility or how to be a friend or why I should fasten my seat belt or how to keep my temper. I...

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Things We Ought Not to Have Done

In the capital city of a state more conservative than many, in its midsized newspaper more conservative than not, runs a weekly feature called “Single File,” of presumed interest to, yes, area singles (people, not cheese slices). This week’s article, “first in a series,” was “Sex and Love Intermingle in the 80’s.” Titillated by the...

Naming the Bard
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Naming the Bard

“Vera nihil verius” —Legend on the coat-of-arms of Edward de Vere It’s not the same as saying that God is dead, or the world is flat, or the check is in the mail. Yet one would think that Charlton Ogburn had committed that kind of atrocity, judging by the reaction of most orthodox Shakespearian scholars...

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Letter From the Heartland

You can tell Midwesterners from other folks by the way they poke public fun at the Midwest. Iowa recently held a contest to find a state license-plate slogan, and the entry generating the most attention was “Iowa: Gateway to Nebraska.” North Dakota has erected a series of billboards along its highways, among them “Stay in...

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A Vibrant Voice

Voice, it is called: that quality of certain poets’ accumulated poems which stamps their singular metrics or syntax or vocabulary onto our personal sound system. Voice makes us unconsciously imitate the music of a good poet we’ve been studying. Voice lets us recognize the author without peeking at the cover. Now, it’s true that every...