ODE TO HUCKLEBERRY FINN

Posted on March 20, 2023 by Sally Handley

Yesterday I had the great pleasure of seeing the Tony-award winning musical Big River performed at the Greenville Theater. It was absolutely wonderful. I had seen it on Broadway many years ago and I never forgot how fabulous the music is.

Do you remember the late Roger Miller, composer of the pop hit King of the Road? Well, Miller wrote the music and lyrics for Big River, which is based on The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, one of my all-time favorite American novels.

Among the many delights of this musical are the moments when Huck steps out of the story he is narrating, faces the audience and tells us exactly how he was feeling at the moment, just the way he does in the book.

I can remember the exact moment I fell in love with Huck Finn. It was the pivotal scene when Huck is torn about helping Jim escape. After he weighs the pros and cons, he decides he’s doing the wrong thing helping Jim, and he makes up his mind to write a letter telling Mrs. Watson where she can find her runaway slave.

But then Huck starts thinking about what a good friend Jim was to him. That’s when he decides he can’t go through with it and says, ‘All right, then I’ll go to hell’.” He made the honorable choice even though it was against the law, and he was willing to suffer eternal damnation rather than betray a friend. How could you not love Huck Finn?

In listening to Roger Miller’s King of the Road, I realized the character speaking in that song is very much akin to Huck Finn. So I share it with you here.

A Salute to American Diversity This Labor Day

Posted on September 5, 2022 by Sally Handley

When I opened my newspaper last month, I came across an article entitled Navajo Code Talker Marks Anniversary. I learned that in 1982, President Ronald Reagan established Navajo Code Talkers Day. The August 14^th date honors all of the tribes associated with the war effort. The date is also an Arizona State Holiday and a Navajo Nation Holiday.

I did not know that. But I vaguely remember a teacher once mentioning in class that the Navajo language was used as code to transmit messages during World War II. The Japanese were never able to break the code and translate the messages. In the article I read, I learned that the Marines recruited hundreds of Navajos as Code Talkers who participated in all the assaults the Marines led in the Pacific from 1942 to 1945.

Recently I read a book called The Seed Keeper by Diane Wilson. This novel is the story of a Dakota family’s struggle to preserve their way of life. Many of the tribe’s children were forcibly taken from their homes and placed in government run schools where they were forbidden to practice their religion or speak their language.

I am struck by the contrast of these two stories. One demonstrates what is admirable about our country – how the diversity of our people makes us better and stronger. The other depicts what is less than admirable about our country – how we sometimes commit atrocities fighting against, and even trying to erase, the very diversity that makes us great.

This weekend as we celebrate Labor Day, a federal holiday that honors and recognizes the works and contributions of laborers to the development and achievements of the United States, I will be thinking about the many diverse Americans who labor everyday to achieve their dreams and, in so doing, make this country great. Happy Labor Day!

Guest Blogger: Trixie, the Dog

Posted on April 6, 2021 by Sally Handley

Hi! My name is Trixie Handley. During my brief stay at the Greenville County Animal Shelter, they called me Chica, and I was called something else before that, but I really can’t remember that far back anymore. Actually, I prefer to forget the people who dumped me at the shelter. Don’t like to dwell on unpleasantness.

Anyway, I jumped at the chance to do this guest blog. You know, my predecessor, Lucky, has been immortalized in three of my adopted Mom’s Holly and Ivy cozy mysteries. I haven’t read them, but I heard her talking to someone about how Lucky saved the day in Full Bloom, book 3 of the series.

Not that I’m jealous or anything, but c’mon! Look at my face. Don’t you think I’d make a great character in a book? I even think I’d make a great actor if the book was ever made into a movie. I mean, people are always telling Mom how beautiful I am. I kinda think she’s a little jealous of me.

Lately, I see Mom tapping on a little machine every morning, so she must be working on a new book. At least, that’s what I think she’s doing. What else could make her say “I can’t play with you now”? So I was thinking this is the perfect opportunity to introduce me as a new character in the series. I hear her telling people what a character I am all the time.

There’s only one complication. I heard Mom talking to somebody about how you can’t kill off a dog in a book series, and I’m not sure if I want to be in the same story with “wonder dog” Lucky. Sorry, I know it’s not nice to speak ill of the dead, even though I do think not being able to kill a dog off in a story is probably the greatest of all writing rules.

So I have an even better idea. I was thinking maybe Mom could start a new series with me as the lead. I mean, what else has she got to do? I heard her talking about a book she read where the dog told the whole story. I think the title is Dog on It. I could do that. We could call it something like Trixie and Me or Trixie Saves the Day.

Seriously. Look at my face. Why that face on a book cover would sell loads of books, don’t ya think? Imagine the biscuits and chew toys we could buy. I’d own Petco. I’m just sayin…

Well, enough about what I think. What do you think? Maybe you could convince Mom?

Inspiration

Posted on January 22, 2021 by Sally Handley

On January 21, 2017 I participated in the Women’s March in Washington, DC. It was exhilarating, and I was very aware of that day being historically significant. Here we are four years later with our first woman vice president. Accidental coincidence? I think not.

As I approach my 70th birthday in a few months, I find myself frequently thinking about how the influence of my baby boomer generation, while still significant, is waning. I yearn for younger people to take charge, for emboldened minds with fresh ideas and undaunted spirits to lead the way.

As I watched the inauguration ceremonies on Wednesday, I was inspired. Again, I was especially invigorated by the optimism and energy of the women and their uplifting performances. Lady Gaga’s arm sweep pointing to the flag as she sang “And our flag was still there!” stirred my heart. This Land is Your Land took on special meaning as it was sung by Jennifer Lopez, the daughter of Puerto Rican parents.

But I have to say the one who inspired me most of all was 22-year old Amanda Gorman as she recited her exquisite poem, The Hill We Climb. With poise and amazing grace, she lifted us up with her word craft.

For there is always light
If we’re brave enough to see it
If we’re brave enough to be it.

Brava, Amanda! May your words continue to light our way and make us brave.

Bad Blogger and Wicked Witches

Posted on April 23, 2020 by Sally Handley

I admittedly am the worst blogger in cyberspace. When I started blogging in 2015, I was so enthusiastic. I set myself a goal of writing a blog weekly. Well, that lasted about a month and a half, when I realized I was spending more time on writing, formatting and publicizing my blog than I was writing Second Bloom, my first Holly and Ivy mystery. I knew if I ever wanted to finish the book, I had to spend less time blogging, so I went to a once-a-month schedule.

That was working fine for a year or so, but somehow last year, the wheels seemed to have completely come off the cart, and I found myself blogging sporadically. I posted a lame blog on Thesaurus Day in January, honestly believing I was off to a great start. Here it is April and I haven’t blogged since that first post in spite of all the free time resulting from the Covid-19 quarantine.

So, what? Am I now just a quarterly blogger? I understand from all those blogging advice articles that’s the kiss of death. I might not be blogging even now if my friend, Lois, hadn’t emailed me recently. She said she’d been checking the blog and was worried about me since I hadn’t written in so long. Very sad.

And it’s not for lack of things to write about. I have lists of blog topics. I’m very good about jotting ideas down based on things I read or see on TV, or even ideas that just pop into my head when I’m walking the dog. Pathetic really. That Catholic school discipline that pushed me through the most difficult challenges my entire life seems to be completely depleted.

Which brings me to my secondary topic today – wicked witches. Last week I came across an article about Margaret Hamilton, the actress who played the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz. The poor woman was relegated to playing witches and spinsters forever after that movie. She had a guest appearance on The Muppet show that had to never be shown after the first airing because parents wrote that it was just too scary for their children.

I totally get that. I was terrified of witches after seeing that movie. The fact you could dissolve her with water didn’t comfort me. I mean what if a bucket of water wasn’t handy when you just happened to run into a witch?

Ah, but what’s the connection to Catholic school discipline, you ask. Well, I attended St. Hedwig’s Grade School in Kingston, Pennsylvania run by the Bernardine nuns. I vaguely remember my first grade teacher, Sister Tolentine. She was quite nice. But in second and third grade I had two much older nuns, Sister Eugene and Sister Timothy. Sister Timothy so terrified me that I had a nightmare one night that I have never forgotten.

Sister Mary Leonelle. Another Bernardine nun who scared me senseless.

I was in my grandfather’s bedroom, arguing with my sister, Jane, as we often did. Sister Timothy appeared in the closet. The flattened headpiece of her Bernardine habit was transformed into a witch’s hat. She warned me I’d pay. As in all good nightmares, the dream sequence shifted and I found myself swinging on a child’s swing we had in the backyard – one that had a little bar to rest your feet on. I was soaring up into the clouds when suddenly, Sister Timothy, in full witchy regalia, was standing on the swing footrest and she began stabbing me. I never went into my grandfather’s closet again .

And then there was the lunchroom lady, Mrs. Marshall – Leocadia Marshall. Just saying her name still gives me the shivers. She wouldn’t even let us talk during lunch. Now there was a bonafide wicked witch.

Well, I’m not entirely sure if those early experiences scared me straight and kept me dutifully fulfilling all my responsibilities my whole life. But I do find it telling that after the memories triggered by that article about Margaret Hamilton I actually sat down and wrote this blog.
How about you? Any wicked witch remembrances in your memory bank?

Until next time – hope it’s not a year from now – I wish you sweet, witch-free, dreams!

That’s What It’s All About

Posted on May 27, 2019 by Sally Handley

Happy Memorial Day! Hope you are enjoying a great kick-off to the summer season. In spite of the fact that I am hosting the family cook-out today, I wanted to take a moment to share with you a reflection that makes me smile and hope it does the same for you.

I’m sure by now you’ve seen the Apple Watch commercial set to the tune of a childhood favorite of mine — the Hokey Pokey. From the first time I saw it, I was hooked and no matter how many times I see it again, I’m always filled with glee.

Remember Robert Fulgham’s book, All I Really Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten? The older I get the more profound I find the simple things we learned as children. The other day at our mailbox kiosk, someone posted a sign that read: “Take the outgoing mail. Whoever delivered mail yesterday didn’t take it.” Seriously? What happened to “please” and “thank you”? Clearly, the writer who penned that note missed school that day.

But back to the Hokey Pokey commercial. When I see those people dancing, jumping, playing to the tune, I’m exhilarated. And what could be more profound than the simple words “You put your whole self in…That’s what it’s all about.”

This summer, I hope you do nothing half-heartedly and that you put your whole self into everything you do. What chance do you have to be truly happy if you don’t? I mean, why bother doing anything, if your whole self isn’t in it? I’m especially talking to my fellow retirees out there. We have less in front of us than we have behind us. Why waste a single minute?

Just in case you need a little more inspiration, click below.

Happy Summer!

The Definition of “Tough”

Posted on December 6, 2016 by Sally Handley

My friend, Nina Augello, shared with me something she wrote while at Elmhurst General Hospital with her father last month. I’m pleased to be able to share it with you.

What does it mean to be tough? Archetypes like the 6 foot 4 inch cowboy battling the elements in a lawless landscape come quickly to mind, but they’re probably a bit simplistic. I am sitting besides my 90 yr. old father in his hospital bed where he has been wrestled into submission by 4 injections of sleep medication and a powerful tranquilizer. He doesn’t want to be here and he is periodically still yelling orders in his sleep. Yesterday when it finally hit him that he was in a hospital, he looked me in the eye and in the most lucid tone told me that I had no brains for bringing him to a place like this.

In many ways he was right on point because the ER was a noisy beeping madhouse of the screaming unwashed with no Mother Theresa in sight and I was supposed to be the smart one—so there was no greater insult he could hurl that would hit me where I live. He has always been a take no prisoners tough cookie.

To say that my father is strong willed is a laughable understatement. Even as his dementia has progressed he has maintained a strict schedule of grooming and exercising and hasn’t relented in his demand for home-cooked meals prepared to his specifications. I am strong-willed too and as the first born and the “son” he never had my childhood is littered with many a clenched jaw confrontation that I am surprised to say didn’t cause us to pulverize our back molars—apparently our teeth are strong-willed too.

Notwithstanding the breathing problems that sent him to the ER, he is at once whistling in his sleep and then asking for coffee in Italian. Last night (his first day in the ER} he asked me if I had prepared dinner and do we have enough to feed all these people–a perfect coda to my running joke that when I was growing up, my family cooked enough food to feed Nebraska if it dropped by unexpectedly.

The electrical system of my father’s heart is winding down and there is a circling the drain effect on his lungs and kidneys. Being old is not for sissies but being “old” old is a whole other deal that no amount of jaw clenching is going to ameliorate. At some point soon I will be faced with difficult choices and will have to decide in proxy when it’s time for him to stop fighting the good fight.

In the coming days I’ll get to see just how tough I really am.

In Memory of Angelo Augello

1926-2016

Angelo Augello passed away Thanksgiving Day, November 24, 2016

Book Review: Avenue of Mysteries by John Irving

Posted on November 28, 2016 by Sally Handley

The main character of John Irving’s novel, Avenue of Mysteries, is a writer named Juan Diego Guerrero. Irving says this about his protaganist’s writing:

“In a Juan Diego Guerrero novel everyone is a kind of outsider; Juan Diego’s characters feel they are foreigners, even when they’re home.”

The same can be said about John Irving’s novels in general, but this is especially the case in Avenue of Mysteries. Born in Oaxaca, Mexico, Juan Diego and his sister, Lupe, are los ninos de la basura or dump kids. Their mother was a prostitute and they were raised by el jefe, the dump boss, who had a relationship with her at one time. Whether or not el jefe was Juan’s biological father is one of the book’s many mysteries.

What is extraordinary about Juan Diego is that he has taught himself to read, scavenging books that have been tossed in the garbage. Even more remarkable, he has taught himself to read both Spanish and English. Lupe, on the other hand, speaks her own language that only Juan Diego can understand. He is her translator. Some people think she’s retarded, but she often surprises them because she can read their minds and sometimes she can even foresee the future.

We learn the story of Juan Diego’s life in Mexico and later in Iowa, mostly through his dreams and memories. After the luggage carrying his medication is delayed on the first leg of his flight to the Phillipines, Juan Diego’s “thoughts, his memories—what he imagined, what he dreamed were jumbled up.” And thus begins a masterfully crafted story that moves seamlessly from the present to the past and back again.

On the back jacket of Avenue of Mysteries is a blurb lifted from a TIME magazine review. It says:

“…unlike so many writers in the contemporary canon, he [John Irving] manages to write books that are both critically acclaimed and beloved for their sheer readability.”

I have to tell you I laughed out loud when I read that. So, was the reviewer acknowledging that critics like books that are unreadable? I have read my share of critically acclaimed, prize winning novels that experiment with time…no boring, formulaic beginning, middle and end for them. Quite frankly, they make my head hurt. Half the time I’m not sure who’s speaking or what century we’re in. I do believe those writers should read and study Avenue of Mysteries. This is how you do it so that your reader is with you every minute, enjoying the journey, spending time reflecting on the ideas you’re writing about, not struggling to figure out who’s who and what time period we’re in..

“The books which help you most are the books that make you think the most.” Theodore Parker, American Transcendentalist and reforming minister of the Unitarian church.

There is so much more to say about this book. Irving expounds on various topics —writing, life’s mysteries, Shakespeare and the Catholic Church (anyone who went to Catholic school will most certainly recognize Sister Gloria) to name just a few. There’s also one wonderful episode in which Juan Diego views a book store bulletin board in Lithuania and mistakenly thinks he’s stumbled on a dating service that matches people based on the novels they read. He thinks it’s a wonderful idea. My question is why hasn’t anyone thought of this before?

I look forward to writing future blogs inspired by Mr. Irving’s reflections. I’d love to share some of his thoughts on writing and I especially can’t wait to write my answer to the question “Who wrote Shakespeare?”

Just a word of caution. In previous blogs, I have expressed my love of cozy mysteries and happy endings. The word cozy is not one that could be applied to John Irving’s work, and satisfying might more aptly describe his endings than happy. If you’ve never read John Irving before, you might prefer to start with his all-time, best-selling novel , A Prayer for Owen Meany. However, if you are looking for a masterful piece of writing that gives you much to think about, Avenue of Mysteries is the book for you.

Spring Fantasies

Posted on March 18, 2016 by Sally Handley

According to the Book of Genesis human life began in a garden…the Garden of Eden. Any wonder why so many of us love to cultivate the soil and grow things? I have so much I want to say on this topic that I’m sure I can’t get it all into one blog. I also don’t know where to begin or how to organize my thoughts, so let me just jump in at the point where I got the idea for this blog.

Purple and Gold Pansies, March 18, 2016

On February 28th, I think it was, I marveled at the display of pansies at either end of a planting island on my street. The picture you see here was taken today, March 18th, but I have to tell you the plants looked almost as good a month ago. We have had an unusually warm winter, even for the South, so the pansies that normally survive the winter here, are thriving. What a delight to see them every day! (I smile whenever I look at the rich purple and gold hues…Garfield High School colors.)

One of the many reasons I chose the condo I live in is that I have my very own patio surrounded by mulched flower beds. The same way I pictured my furniture inside, I envisioned lush plantings of flowers and

June 2015

vegetables in those empty beds. That brings me to another thing that triggered today’s topic — a quote from Marian St. Clair, a Master Gardener who writes a blog and a column for The Greenville News. In a column a few months ago, Ms. Sinclair wrote: “Despite challenges and constant setbacks, or perhaps because of them, gardeners are stubborn folks who nurture a dynamic fantasy life. In our minds, perfection is always within reach and next year’s garden is bound to be the best yet.”

I just love that quote. Until I read it, I never thought about gardening as fantasy fulfillment, but that really is an accurate description. When you put daffodil, tulip, and hyacinth bulbs in the ground in the Fall, you are planting based on some fantasy you’ve conjured up in your head about what they will look like when they come up in the Spring. You’ve imagined it all first. (I do believe the rich fantasy life that drives gardeners is the same one that drives fiction writers…but that’s a topic for another blog, of course.)

I still remember the first time I planted red tulips and purple grape hyacinths in my yard in New Jersey. When they bloomed in the Spring, the shock of color nearly made me giddy. And, yes, as Marion St. Clair stated, I began imagining what I would add to my garden the next year to make it even better. Every year I added not just bulbs and perennials, but whole garden beds to my yard. One of the hardest parts of leaving my home in New Jersey, was saying goodbye to the many plants I’d nurtured over 25 years.

Snap peas, March 18, 2016

Not to worry, though… I’ve already begun anew. Just last week, I got out my basket of saved seed envelopes and planted what was left in a packet of snap-pea seeds. When the green leaves started to poke their heads through the dirt after the rain last week, I was ecstatic. Yes, we gardeners are not just stubborn; we’re resilient and ever optimistic.

Oh, I have so much more to say about gardening, but I’ll save it for another day. I must, however, end with a appreciative nod to the Simpsonville Garden Club which my sister and I joined last month. At this month’s meeting, we elected new officers. This is how it went:
1. Eileen Hofmeister from the nominating committee presented the slate of nominees: Judy Rogers, President, Judy McGinty, Vice President, Sylvia Lockaby, Treasurer and Christine Barnett, Secretary.
2. Current President Christine Barnett asked if there were any other nominees from the floor. There were none.
3. Eileen made a motion that we accept the proposed slate of nominees by acclamation.
4. Someone seconded the motion. All were in favor, and no one opposed the motion.
5. The slate of nominees was elected by acclamation.

I do believe our nation would do well to look to the Simpsonville Garden Club as a model for how to run an election. Congratulations, ladies!

Until next blog, whether you’re a gardener, a writer, or both, I wish you boundless optimism, limitless imagination and an abundance of rich fantasies to carry you into Spring.

Good Reads and Happy Endings

Posted on February 27, 2016 by Sally Handley

Well, it’s the end of February and this is my first post. Tsk! Tsk! But it’s been a really good month because I’ve accomplished a lot and, most importantly, I found an editor for my cozy mystery, Second Bloom. I’ve only got a few more chapters to revise before I send it off to her. That means I can start writing Book Two of my planned series in March. Finishing something, however big or little, is always satisfying. The end of one thing allows for new beginnings and that’s always exciting.

Emma Watson as Hermione Granger

That brings me to my topic for today…good reads and happy endings. This month I discovered that Emma Watson has created a book club group called Our Shared Shelf on the website GoodReads.com. (I know. Can you believe our little Hermione Granger from the Harry Potter movies is all grown up and the Goodwill Ambassador for UN Women?) Of course, I joined Goodreads.com and also Emma’s group…I’m one of 115,569 members.

If you find yourself searching for “good reads”, I think you’ll really like GoodReads.com. What I love about the site is that you get to see what your friends are reading. You can also read reviews they’ve written and decide whether or not you want to try a book. When you sign in, you link through your Facebook account, and your Facebook friends who are also members of GoodReads.com, automatically become your Good Reads friends. It’s simple, uncomplicated and it’s free.

As a result, I’ve been reading a bit this past month…of course, I’m always reading. I’m a member of a book club for over thirty years. Since I moved to South Carolina, I “skype” in. (Skype is just the most wonderful communication technology…but that’s a topic for a whole other blog.) This month we read How to Be Both by Ali Smith. Does the title make you scratch your head? Well, the whole book left me scratching mine. Here’s my Good Reads review:

“Not a fan of this style of writing. From the title to the very end of the book, I longed for a simple declarative sentence to dispel the murkiness of the convoluted dual narratives. I know this was a prize winner lauded by critics, but I was neither enlightened, inspired nor entertained.”

So there you have my criteria for a “good read”. I want to finish a book feeling enlightened, inspired or entertained. Otherwise, I feel cheated. I admit that, left to my own devices, I’d read nothing but murder mysteries. Clearly, they fall under the entertainment category, and, after all, that is one of the reasons I belong to a book club. I want to be pushed out of my comfort zone. Most of the time, I am rewarded with the enlightenment or inspiration, if not always entertainment, that result from reading books I wouldn’t ordinarily choose myself. All the Light We Cannot See by A. Doerrs and State of Wonder by Anna Patchett are two that come to mind.

Ironically, I think my tendency to read mysteries is that they tend to have satisfying, if not entirely happy, endings. The puzzle is solved, the murderer is caught and everyone can go on and live happily ever after. In spite of that general rule, I was recently horrified by the ending of Anne Cleeves’ murder mystery, Blue Lightening. I won’t give it away, but I felt quite blindsided and heartbroken by a murder that occurs near the end of the book.

Okay, I confess. I love happy endings. I mean, who doesn’t? If I want to feel hopeless and depressed, I can read the newspaper or watch the news on television. If I want to feel baffled and confused, I can watch the political debates. When I invest my time reading fiction, I want to conclude feeling something positive. No matter what awful things happen to the characters I read about, I want them to triumph in the end. If fail they must in order to move forward, at the very least, I don’t want their spirits crushed, because my spirit will be crushed as well. Remember Old Yeller? I cried my eyes out when they had to shoot him, but he died a hero, and the movie ends with Yeller’s puppies running around, making us smile as only puppies can. That’s what I’m talking about.

Right now, I’m reading Carl T. Smith’s Low Country Boil, set in a small fictional town on the coast of South Carolina. When I met Carl at a Creative Writers of Greenville Meetup, he told me he writes stories about “strong women and enigmatic men”. How could I not want to read one of his books? I just started, but here’s what I wrote on GoodReads.com:
“I’m on page 27 of 395 of Lowcountry Boil: After reading Ali Smith’s How to Be Both, this book is like a tall, cold glass of water following a walk in the desert. Beautiful, crystalline prose: “There was no moon to speak of — a slender cut that chiseled shafts of light through the limbs of the live oaks and created quiet shadows and sequined reflections on the surface of the water.” Can you ask for a better opening line? —

Another book I’m reading at the moment is Ray Bradbury’s Zen in the Art of Writing. How I love this man and his enthusiasm for writing! But that, too, is a topic for another blog. Nevertheless, I want to end by sharing with you a quote from his essay, “How to Keep and Feed a Muse”, in which Mr. Bradbury contends that we must surround ourselves with experiences that “feed” our inner spirit if we’re going to be creative:

“Look at yourself then. Consider everything you have fed yourself over the years. Was it a banquet or a starvation diet?
Who are your friends? Do they believe in you? Or do they stunt your growth with ridicule and disbelief? If the latter, you haven’t friends. Go find some.”

Gosh, I just love that. No starvation diet for me, thank you. Books, like good friends, must nourish us. Go find some good reads and have a feast. Till next time, Happy Reading!

****************************

You may be hearing from me in the form of quotes or book reviews posted on GoodReads.com and shared via Facebook. If you’d like to share what you’re reading with a community of readers, I encourage you to check out GoodReads.com. Alternatively, feel free to share your book recommendations by adding a comment to this blog. And, don’t forget that by adding your email to this blog’s subscribe list to the right, you’ll receive an email when new blogs are posted. At the rate I’m posting, you clearly don’t have to worry about being overwhelmed by too many emails. LOL